#and we'll be here a while

[reginalusus]

Ah yes. When the protective dad-figure beats up the son-figure's past tormentor only for said tormentor to make a point(?), because the tormentor is the catalyst of Gotham's chaos, and seeing two pieces of the debris from said chaos come together to try and be less broken is amusing. The butt of Gotham's joke, if you will.

I just felt like illustrating a scene from a possible future Harvey-Jason-centered fic...

[tricoufamily]

just some ivy league kids trying to figure out necromancy

[izuke-the-zombie]

This is a little head cannon/What if Macaque had more original powers, a little more Starry Night dreamlike powers leaning into the more nurturing kind, you know, the moon and sun kind of powers? 🌙☀️

 

Maybe in the past, he was like a therapy friend to Wukong, someone he could really be himself with, vent, and tell his secrets without being judged in the safety of his own dreams. Someone he can truly trust, and that was Macaque.

Skip to Redemption Ark for Mac

Now he's a therapy friend to the whole MK team! (Against his will) They cuddle, pet, and vent to him with their problems. He's like one of Sandy's therapy cats, just bigger and grumpier.😾💕✨ he just has this way with people I guess

Okay, this is how it starts: Macaque and Wukong's first encounter was in a dream.

Wukong would not shut up about the pretty demon in his crazy dreams, often to his sworn brothers; he talked about all the fun and crazy adventures he'd have, the long meaningful conversations and jokes, and the occasionally moving pictures of otherworldly strong magical humans with sparkly eyes and spiky hair who wield giant weapons that shoots Fire called anime, and that this had been going on for a few months now.

This annoyed and concerned them; they think it's a demon trying to take over the Monkey King's mind or trying to brainwash him somehow, so Azure Lion and the Sworn Brothers all brainstormed together to devise a plan to somehow confront this tricky dream demon. Wukong doesn't want the fun dreams to end or scare off this other celestial monkey, so he decides to talk to his friend in his dreams. Wukong casually brings up the idea that the macaque should visit Flower Fruit and meet his sworn brothers! Macaque of course hesitates, not sure of the idea of traveling to an unknown island and meeting The Monkey King's questionable choice of sworn brothers, but of course, Wukong, sad and a bit offended, but he doesn't give up.

He decides to bring upon the Ultimate Weapon, begging and whining until Macaque crumbles and gives in, which eventually does. Mac reluctantly agrees to travel over to FFM in disguise, just to be safe he tells Wukong he'll be there. Within a month, Wukong couldn't be more excited; he was like a little kid waiting for Christmas day!

So this is what kinds of powers I think he should have.

😴 the first pic is crossing over to other people's dreams and making their experience life-like he has illusion magic so this makes sense to me. Wukong and macaque would prank the Brotherhood or play tags and hide and seek in their brother's dreams. 🌸The second pic is the soothing ability to calm one's nerves if they pet or cuddle him like a therapy cat,🐈 Wukong would groom him for hours to calm his nerves. now come copes with food🍑🍔🍭

🌸🎶I saved the best one for last the cute/sad little head Cannon I have

At the end of every dream Mac visits they would end it by dancing to music Mac would bring from the future laughing and stumbling while wukong slowly wakes up, wukong has always gone to bed early But now he goes even earlier to bed. Wukong always thought he was the luckiest monkey in the world he gets to have two Adventure and one of them is with his prettiest best friend Macaque 😚✨the monkey of his dreams.

🌸 Wukong couldn't truly dream of a world without his bestest friend🥰✨

[nedeii]

[rushinintolove]

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[blu-ish]

It hurts more when your not allowed to cry.

[rexscanonwife]

Save me Lazytown....Lazytown save me

[revenantghost]

I do wish we got a little more of Vash and his sisters and what he did about his brethren in the manga. It's obvious that they're fond of him from what little we see from their perspective at the end, but what kind of relationship they had... who knows.

[myrmica]

its so funny that all minute—the guy who once upon a time hoped to redeem zam—'s team has accomplished is getting him to consider giving up his remaining honor in order to match the level they're playing on ?

[cerealmonster15]

cheneige moment aka me trying to learn how 2 draw rsa students

[thelaurenshippen]

the way that silver said "I will stand here with you an hour, a day, a year" to flint and "I will wait a day, a month, a year, forever" to madi....I'm sick to my stomach. who is doing unhinged devotion like this man

[amethystina]

Turns out things can get even shittier

Who knew?

I'm getting very tired of making posts like these so I'll keep it brief. Someone very important to me within my chosen family — who I have known since I was 16 — passed away a little over a week ago and I'm not doing the greatest.

Grief is by no means new to me but this was a little too sudden and hit a little too close to home and it's taken me days to even just work up the energy to write this. I've spent the past week pretending everything is fine and normal but, in all honesty, they're not. I'm just so goddamn tired.

But I'll be fine. I always am in the end.

But if anyone is wondering why replies or chapters are taking longer than usual, it's because I'm dealing with this on top of the burnout and long Covid bullshit.

Chapter 43 of Who Holds the Devil is on the way but it's another 14k monstrosity so it's taking a lot of time and energy to edit. But, as usual, I'll post it as soon as I'm able. The same goes for the two remaining chapters of The Right Set of Circumstances. I'm working on it but my emotions and focus are kind of all over the place, so it's taking longer than I want it to.

So yeah. I just wanted you all to know, in case you're wondering why things are (yet again) taking so long.

Life just sucks sometimes, doesn't it?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin

this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies

~

BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!

FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what? 

BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!

FRANK: You mean caramel?

BARNABY: That’s what I said.

FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.

BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.

FRANK: We absolutely are not!

JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.

BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!

FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?

JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!

FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?

WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.

FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?

BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!

FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!

BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!

FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-

[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen] 

FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!

EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time? 

BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?

EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?

FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!

SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?

FRANK: AGH!

BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!

SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!

FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!

BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.

JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies! 

SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.

FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny. 

EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s… 

[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]

EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!

[Frank makes an affronted noise]

FRANK: Poppy will see sense.

-

POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-

FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.

EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you. 

POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?

BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!

SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!  

POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -

SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy. 

POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.

[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]

WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…

POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.

FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!

JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!

BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they! 

POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?

[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]

JULIE: Oop, there he goes!

POPPY:  Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.

BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.

WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…

POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes. 

SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.

POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-

BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.

-

FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.

BARNABY: Talk about a bias…

[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]

FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-

[Home slowly shuts their curtains]

FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.

WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.

BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.

JULIE: They did not!

BARNABY: Looked like it to me!

SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!

JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!

FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-

JULIE: Us!

FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up. 

BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.

-

[store bell chimes]

HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?

BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!

FRANK: We have important business.

HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical. 

FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?

EDDIE: If I would what?

SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?

EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.

[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop] 

HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.

BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?

[Frank mutters something inaudible]

BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!

FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere! 

EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…

JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank! 

[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]

HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?

BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.

HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-

[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]

FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?

BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…

SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.

EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.

JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh? 

HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.

FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.

HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.

[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]

HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched! 

WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.

[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]

[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]

[goatunderthebridge]

Pride & Hysterics || aka, what if Fukunaga saw Yamamoto fall?

I have fukutora on the brain and I've gotta sleep. So, enjoy this short (~1700 words) fic idea that is barely edited and has not been read through more than once. bon appetit ‼

Inspired by this post by @anoant-haikyuu-dump .

Quick tags/info: some fukutora, slight kuroken, mostly yamamoto getting into a stupid situation because of pride, fukunaga finding this hilarious, kenma is done with both of them, and kuroo is in love with kenma.

------

The three of them were standing outside the school gates, having finished their evening volleyball practice. Kenma was sitting on the half-wall, hunched over to block the sunlight from obscuring his phone screen as he flicked through a random game. He was waiting for Kuroo to walk home with him, the boy having been caught in a conversation with Nekomata. Kenma didn’t mind. It gave him time to text Hinata about how he had found the new game in their mutually liked series. However, there was one thing that he disliked about waiting for Kuroo after school and the thing manifested itself in the form of his, sigh. Friends.

“I bet I could jump to that cola can,” Kenma hears Yamamoto say to Fukunaga, a tinge of pride in his voice. Already Kenma could tell that this wasn’t going to end well, not when ‘bet’ and Yamamoto’s pride were ever involved.

Unfortunately for both of them, Fukunaga loved hearing those things put together.

Kenma discreetly glances up through his hair just as Fukunaga turns to Yamamoto, eyes shining. The excitement was practically vibrating off of him as he stared at Yamamoto, as if daring him to do it. Kenma shifts slightly in his seat to see what Yamamoto was talking about, leaning forwards past their backs to see a discarded coca cola can on the pavement around 20 feet away from them. Kenma immediately groans but mentally berates himself for it when two pairs of shining eyes look at him.

“What?” Yamamoto roars, puffing out his chest to Kenma as he stands squarely in front of him, “You don’t think I can do it?”

Kenma rolls his eyes as he looks up at him, hair falling away from his face. “I didn’t say that…”

“But you were thinking it!” Yamamoto says, crossing his arms in front of him.

“No…”

“Well, I’m going to prove you wrong!” Yamamoto announces triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips as he nods to himself, as if affirming the belief that he could somehow jump as far as to that red, crumpled can and all he needed was one disbeliever to motivate him to do it.

Kenma sighs. He hated always being the disbeliever that Yamamoto goaded into motivating him.

Fukunaga rests his head on Yamamoto’s shoulder, peering over him to Kenma. Yamamoto freezes slightly at the touch. It’s almost interesting to Kenma, the way he didn’t even seem to be breathing, if not for the distracting fact that Fukunaga was smiling widely.

“Tigers can leap when pigs fly.” He teases, earning a surprised snort from Kenma.

Yamamoto starts at that, rocking Fukunaga off of his shoulder and spinning to face him with a pointed finger, exclaiming loudly, “I’ll show both of you!”

Fukunaga toes a line in the dust between them – a starting line, it dawned on Yamamoto and Kenma – before he drops into a seat next to Kenma on the wall, folding his hands in his lap. He looks up at Yamamoto expectantly with his wide eyes.

Kenma sighs. This was not going to end well. They’d gotten his pride too involved.

Yamamoto grunts at both of them sitting down and awaiting his spectacular jump. He turns to face his rival – the red can ahead – and judges the distance by eye more thoroughly now. He blinked. It was a long distance to jump, very long, and it almost made his self-confidence falter. But the pride coiling within his chest tightened around his heart and it was then his resolve was fortified. He could make that jump. He was Yamamoto Taketora, for fuck’s sake!

With that, he takes a few step behind him from the starting line, keeping his eyes locked on the red can ahead. All he had to do was gain enough momentum and jump. He could do that, he had the guts. Truly, how hard could it be to do something as simple as jumping?!

Yamamoto takes a deep breath, clenches his hands into fists, and yells as he runs, passing the wide-eyed Fukunaga and disappointed Kenma who watched him with turning heads like spectators to a tennis match. Yamamoto jumps from the starting line, his feet making a loud ‘thud’ as he sprang off of it. And to his credit, he does actually leap, spreading his legs far in the air as he soared. Fukunaga’s mouth opens slightly as Kenma’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. Yamamoto was actually going to do it. He was using his pride to dismantle the very laws of gravity.

Yamamoto felt weightless. Time seemed to slow down since he had jumped, his legs stretched as far as they would go in perpendicular directions to his body, his arms locked in to his sides like a Super Mario character jumping in those games Kenma liked and beat his ass at every time. He turned his head slightly, catching the surprise on Fukunaga’s face as he flew through the air nearer and nearer to the red can. He felt his ears twinge red as he grinned, slowly.

But then time sped back up and he was dropping to the ground. Yamamoto braced himself for his right foot to hit the ground first, leaning his weight forward. But he noticed his foot continuing to soar past the red can and instantly cheered for himself, yelling so excitedly that he hardly noticed where his foot was landing.

Fukunaga stood up as Yamamoto dropped to the ground and immediately slipped on a banana peel.

His foot slid on it, making him screech like some deranged beast as his body pelters backwards at the momentum with which his body came crashing down to the ground. He falls down, hitting his head on the red can and his back on the pavement loudly, instantly groaning at the fall. Kenma stands up with his phone gripped tightly in his hands, unsure whether to check if Yamamoto was okay or if they should call someone. He looks to Fukunaga to see what they should do and he stills in movements.

Fukunaga’s face was red and contorted in silent laughter. He was gripping his sides with his mouth wide open and his body shaking with his laughing fit. Kenma almost took a step back in shock if it wasn’t for the high-pitched peals of laughter that managed to escape Fukunaga that knocked him back down onto the wall instead. The laughter stole Yamamoto’s attention as he sat up with a groan and looked to the duo, rubbing the back of his head. He froze again when he saw Fukunaga howling with laughter, doubled over now, the laughter filling the air. It struck Yamamoto as he watched in silent shock that he had never heard Fukunaga laugh like that before. He had never seen how Fukunaga’s entire face relaxed as he laughed, nor how pink his cheeks got or how he threw his head back to the sky as if he couldn’t help but let everything within him be entirely moved by the hilarity before him.

And the laughter, Yamamoto had never heard anything like it. It sounded like a mixture of shrieks and gasps and an endless stream of barking laughter as Fukunaga dropped to his knees before shoving a hand to his mouth, desperately stopping his laughter from escaping him as he bowed his head, his body still wracking with silent giggles. Kenma met Yamamoto’s eyes over Fukunaga’s head and it was easy for them to communicate in that moment the single thought passing through both of them:

What the fuck was that?

As Yamamoto stepped towards them, Fukunaga wiped at his eyes and stood back up, mostly composed once Yamamoto was closer to them.

“Are you alright?” Kenma asked, noticing the way it seemed to take actual effort for Yamamoto to drag his eyes off of Fukunaga to look at him.

Yamamoto nodded, rubbing the back of his head still, “Y-yeah. I’m… fine.”

Kenma arched an eyebrow at the redness creeping on to Yamamoto’s face as Fukunaga turned to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr Banana Peel, huh?” Fukunaga barely managed to squeak out before laughing again, body shuddering under it as he laughed into his shoulder, hand squeezing Yamamoto’s shoulder.

It was infectious, then. Kenma snorted, instantly turning his head away from the glare Yamamoto sent him. That seemed to shake Yamamoto out from whatever spell Fukunaga’s laughter had on him because he was suddenly roaring.

“HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN IT WAS THERE!? I STILL WON! STOP LAUGHING AT ME!”

It just made Fukunaga laugh harder, dropping back down to his knees and dragging his hand down Yamamoto weakly as he goes, barely able to breathe. Kenma can’t help the laughter that escapes him as Yamamoto goes fully red and practically slams his own face into his hands, yelling incoherently.

“Whoa, what the hell is going on here?” A curious yet amused voice calls out to them.

Kenma turns to see Kuroo strolling towards them, his satchel slung around his shoulder. Kuroo glances at Kenma’s glistening eyes, Fukunaga bent over with laughter on the floor, and a Yamamoto who refused to look at him, instead choosing to cross his arms over his chest and turn his head away from the rest of them.

Kuroo slings an arm over Kenma’s shoulder as he plops down next to him on the wall.

“So?” He asks, looking between the three of them.

It’s Fukunaga who glances up at Kuroo with tears in his eyes, still clutching his sides.

“Tora- Tora is going to quit volleyball,” he says, gasping it out as he slows his laughter.

This makes Kuroo a bit more serious as he furrows his eyebrows at Fukunaga. Kenma bites his lip and turns his face into Kuroo’s chest, preparing himself. But Yamamoto turns to Fukunaga, confusion crossing his face.

“What?” They both say, glancing at each other before back at Fukunaga.

Fukunaga takes a breath, and risks a look up at Yamamoto. A snort escapes him.

“He’s studying to be a clown.”

And then he’s stifling his laughter again into his own hands as Yamamoto reddens and kneels next to Fukunaga, balling his shirt within his fists as he jostles him, half out of anger and half because Fukunaga’s laughter made his intestines curl inside of him and it felt weird because he wanted more of it.

Kuroo watches this display with a raised eyebrow, knowing he’s missing something but equally certain he’d be getting no answers out of the duo before him. He lets Kenma take his attention instead, feeling Kenma curl in closer under his arm, his body shaking with laughter. Kuroo smiles at that and rests his head on Kenma’s, turning to watch Yamamoto shake Fukunaga before him.

God, who knew when the three of them had gotten so close?

[girlbossblackbeard]

what if in the lead up to the reconciliation in s2 we get flashbacks of moments in s1 the audience never got to see, like ed crashing on stede's couch and smiling gently as he listens to stede's soft snoring, or stede blushing profusely as ed lines his body up behind stede's as he corrects his dueling form, or ed AND stede having a soft, intimate moment together, looking into each other's eyes and just appreciating the exciting, insane, incredible person standing before one another as stede finishes tying the little purple bows into ed's beard for the french party. maybe they both steal a quick glance down at each other's lips and the moment suddenly becomes charged but gets immediately broken by Frenchie and Olu interrupting them to let them know they're approaching the french vessel, and ed and stede share one final look before leaving the captain's quarters with an ocean of unspoken potential having been planted. idk I guess that would be nice or whatever. like i even care