#croissant’s writings

[croissantatwaitrose]

After escaping prison dream somehow gets shrunk. He gets found by tommy who decides to be a better person.

Tommy keeps dream(And try to help him) and dream Is having a stressfull and confusing time.

(Not sure whether this is a prompt or asking for an opinion… but I’ll take it as a prompt!!)

Dream was not having the best time of his life. Sure, he’d finally managed to escape prison. Feeling free for the first time in… however long it had been, was a blissful feeling he wished he could’ve held onto for longer. However, fate was not so kind to him, and he’d been hit with a shrinking potion from a witch.

To say the very least, to be reduced to such a small size was nothing short of humiliating; the only emotion he could feel whilst staring at his tiny limbs was frustration. Was this the karma that every other player had been waiting for him to finally receive?

He kicked a glass shard from the potion bottle, whatever good that did him. When his anger didn’t cease or fade, he settled on walking. Where to, he had to idea. He just wanted to walk in an attempt to at least forget the situation he was in, just for a moment.

And it was odd as hell.

Walking through tall blades of grass and sidestepping pebbles that were twice Dream’s own width and length felt like nothing short of a fever dream. It felt impossible, yet here he was. Jarring as it was, there was some fascination to the way he viewed his current surroundings - this felt like an entirely new view on life - a powerless one yet one that was oddly pretty. Was this how everyone else felt - powerless and weak, and so resorted to appreciating that which was natural? It sounded pathetic.

Something suddenly snapped dream out of his thoughts. No, someone. Someone who, evidently, had already spotted him. That someone squatted down in front of him and- oh. Of course. Bright blue eyes stared back at him, an expression nothing short of bewildered on his face.

“Go away, Tommy.” The teen did not obey Dream’s words, but, to be fair, Dream wasn’t in much of a position to make threats. He had no advantages over Tommy this time.

“Man, you really look like shit.” Dream raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t need your assessment to know that.”

“What the fuck even happened to you, man?” It seemed like Tommy was more taking the piss out of Dream than being genuinely curious. Dream simply glared back, choosing not to answer; he didn’t need to be mocked more than he already was.

Seeing Dream’s reluctant answer, Tommy paused, seemingly debating on whether he should ask something.

“…do you need help?”

The words took the smaller completely aback. He looked up at Tommy’s face, yet there wasn’t even a hint of insincerity or mockery. The teen genuinely wanted to help him.

“Why… why are you offering?” Slowly, Dream sceptically asked. He didn’t believe that this offer was malicious-intent-free, not for a single second. However, Tommy simply shrugged.

“One of us has gotta be the bigger man, yknow.” And he had a point, which made a first. Metaphorically and literally, Tommy was being the bigger person, and Dream wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. Confused, mainly. He always took Tommy to be quite an immature person, yet here he was, offering help to his biggest enemy. It didn’t make sense to Dream, and he was still unsure if he should take this offer.

But what other choice did he have? It was much too dangerous out there for someone his size, and since he’d just escaped prison, he was sure that none of the other server members would be quite this merciful with him. The idea of staying with Tommy didn’t sit right with him in the slightest, but he’d rather that than die out in the open.

“Sure, then.” He grumbled, still not keen on this whole ordeal. Then, without warning, Tommy had scooped him up onto his palm, leaving the smaller incredibly disoriented.

“Wh- what the fuck-?!” Dream sputtered out, glaring up at the teen.

“My bad, big- i mean, little man.” Tommy grinned down at him, clearly resisting the laugh. Dream didn’t retort, not wanting to give Tommy the satisfaction of knowing how much the comment had annoyed him.

Whilst Dream was still having begrudging feelings, there was a twinge of gratitude towards the teen. Being saved by an enemy was better than dying out in the open.

Anything was better than dying out in the open.

(I think i might make this into an au; im calling it on the run au 🔥🔥🔥)

[entwnii]

it was supposed to be a short trip.

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔 keeps telling himself those eight words as he steps out of his convertible car, making his way towards your shared house’s front porch, arms filled with a bunch of vegetables, fruits and argentinan food.

what is he gonna tell you ?

tooru sighs, ruffling a hand through his chestnut locks, looking over at the large wooden crates sitting on the back seat. he lifts two of the crates, placing them under his left arm and grabbing the last crate with his right hand, making his way to the house’s front door.

the brunet manages to find his keys in the back pocket of his pants, opening the front door and stepping inside of your shared residence. tooru place his keys inside of the light-pink, ceramic, hibiscus-shaped trinket bowl you made at very start of your pregnancy, a few months ago. the chestnut-haired man smiles as he remembers the day you came up to him, a bright smile on your plump lips as you showed off the small object you had just made.

tooru kicks his shoes off, sweeping them somewhere towards the front door, before walking over to the kitchen.

he places the three crates on the soapstone countertop of the kitchen island, the white gold metal of his engagement ring tapping against the counter. he sighs, putting his hand on the side of his neck, cracking his neck, a breath escaping his slightly chapped lips. he places his arms behind his back, cracking the bones of his arms and back.

he grabs a large wooden bowl, placing it next to the sink. he takes the lemons off the fruit crate, rinsing them under the sink’s water and drying them before placing them into the wooden bowl. he does the same with the apples, limes, mangos, passion fruits and the other citrus before onto the vegetables : avocados, carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, tomatoes and spinash. he grabs the freshly washed vegetables, opening the fidge to stock them into one the fridge’s drawer.

tooru turns on the water, washing his hands in the kitchen sink when his ears perk up at the sound of bare footsteps against the laminate floor of your shared house, which makes a smile appears on his slightly chapped lips.

“g’morning, princess.” your fiancé greets you when he feels your arms wrap his torso, turning off the water, drying his hands with a towel. you mutter a small ‘morning’, snuggling your head deeper against tooru’s back, which makes him laugh.

he loosens your grip from his muscular torso, earning a whine of protest from you — which makes him chuckle. he turns his body around, now facing you, gently resting his arms on each side of your neck, his hands resting on the back of your shoulders — fingertips drawing random patterns against your skin.

“how did ya sleep ?” he asks you softly, watching as you tilt your head upwards, your eyelashes fluttering open as you look up at him, slightly scrunching your nose as he places a kiss on the tip of it.

“good until i woke up to a cold bed.” you answer your fiancé’s question, a subtle pout on your plump lips, still annoyed with the fact that he left you, his five months pregnant fiancée, all alone in your king-sized bed.

the chestnut-haired man laughs at your words, muttering a small ‘sorry about that’ as he presses a small peck on your forehead. “ya smell s’ nice. . . ” he mutters, closing his eyes as he snuggles his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent. “ya took a shower ?”

you nod your head ‘yes’, opening your mouth in order to answer him when you spot the large wooden bowl placed next to the sink, the fruits almost falling on the countertop. “tooru.” your fiancé cringes at the tone of your voice, knowing damn well that he’s in trouble. “what the hell is all this ?”

“just— listen to me, ‘kay ?” he sighs, placing his left hand on the soapstone countertop, watching as you let go of him, taking a red apple in one of your hands. he tubs the back of his neck with his right hand. “i went to the market downtown this morning, y’know the small local market that ya love.” he starts, glancing a you. “the locals were sweet, as always, and kept asking me pictures about ya, how ya were nd all. when i told ‘em that there was only four months left before our little girl comes they shoved a bunch of products in my arms.”

you can’t help but smile as tooru explains the whole story, your heart swelling with deep fondness at the thought of the locals’ sweet actions.

the chestnut-haired man chuckles as he watches a timid smile appearing on your plump lips, noticing how the red apple is still in your hand. “want me to cut it for ya ?” he suggests, moving closer to you. “so that ya can have it for breakfast.”

“i want. . .” you think out loud, glacing downwards at the large apple in your hand. “. . .cheesy apple swaddles.”

a weird silence settles between the two of you right after those words left your lips. a stunned expression appears on tooru’s face, visibly at a loss for words. “cheesy apple swa— baby, the hell is that ?!” he asks, not believing your words, which makes a subtle pout appearing on your lips.

“cheesy apple swaddles.” you repeat, insisting on each syllables of the three words before sighing. “canned croissant dough, apple slice, brie cheese slice, honey. you swaddle it up, like a baby, butter, cinnamon sugar and bake it.”

“bake it ?” tooru repeats, one of his eyebrows raised as he rubs his chin with his right hand, glancing down at you. “then eat it.” you add, nodding your head as you speak.

“sometimes i wonder what’s happening in that silly head of yer.” he says before sighing, a small smile appearing on his slightly chapped lips. “but i’ll make that for ya.”

the subtle pout on your lips disappears as the last words leves his lips, the corner of your lips turning into a bright smile. you place your hands on each side of his face, the white gold metal of your engagement cold against his warm skin, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, muttering a small ‘thanks, you’re the best !’ before moving over to the large couch in the living room.

tooru lets out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances down at the red apple you placed on the soapstone countertop. He moves over to the fridge, opening it with his free hand. he grabs a can of pre-made croissant dough, a stick of butter along with some brie cheese. he closes the fridge, opening one of the kitchen’s drawers, taking the small jar of cinnamon sugar and the pot of honey.

the chestnut-haired man opens the canned croissant, unfolding the pre-made dough and cutting it in five small triangles. he cuts the red apple in ten slices, along with the brie cheese. he places a slice on apple on one of the dough triangles, followed with one of the cheese slices and a trail of honey before rolling the swaddle up. he does that for more times, putting a bit of butter in the microwave, just enough time for it to melt, before covering the five swaddles in melted butter and cinnamon sugar and placing the in the oven.

while waiting for your craving to bake tooru decides to make the both of your your favorite morning drinks : a lungo for him and a mocha for you. right after adding some whipped cream on top of your drink, the chestnu-haired man walks towards you, placing his drink on the coffee table and handing you the mocha, smiling as he sees the home decor mag on your lap, your new obsession of the moment.

“thanks, tooru.” you say as you grab the mug he’s handing you.

just as your fiancé leans down to sit next to you, the time alarm rings, making him groan in annoyance. you chuckle as you watch tooru make his way to the kitchen, opening the oven and placing the five swaddles on a plate, cutting the rest of the apple for him. he then walks back to you, a plate in each of his hands.

the chestnut-haired man places the two plates on the coffe table, grabbing the television’s remote, turning it on to watch the news. as he leans back into the couch, tooru wraps an arm around your shoulders, watching as you take a small bite out of one of the swaddles, a pleased hum leaving your lips as you nod your head.

“it’s good ?” tooru asks you as he turns his head towards you. “so good !” you exclaim, licking the tip of your fingers. suddenly, he leans down, taking a large bite out of the snack in your hands, to which you shout a protest, hitting his chest with your fist.

“it’s kinda weird but not bad.” your fiancé declares, shrugging his shoulders, unfazed by the light hit on his chest. “guess that‘s cuz i’m the one who made it.”

you slap the back of his head at his cocky words. “shut up.”

[a2zillustration]

Buddy we literally JUST read a scroll about hubris AND you were just inspired about something called "Don't let history repeat itself," that 10 wis stat is really coming through.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

alrite

I just KNOW this bitch had an extra croissant for lunch today to celebrate the ultimate demise of all mages (knowing full well what would go down later that night) 🤡 You know, as a treat for the special occasion…

[zolanort]

Hyrule is a fine cook, you guys are just mean.

I will start by pointing out that Wild says the ham water is really tasty. Who is going to be a better judge of the ham water? The one who has eaten nothing but pastries and croissants his whole life?

The lord of pumpkin spice? The army guy who probably lived off of MRE equivalents? The rancher who chugs literal grubs?

Or the one person who is so good with food that he is universally recognized as the cook?

Kudos to you if you chose the grub chugger, nothing wrong with eating bugs, but the correct answer was Wild; Wild is the best choice for judge. Partially because he has 1000x more experience with food variety than the others (statistics taken from my own save files), but mostly because no one else in the group has any significant experience with cooking their own food. Twi did his best helping with that stinky fish for Yeto's soup but it doesn't count.

As the croissant eater points out, the meat looks old.

For it to be old but not have started rotting, it would have to be cured meat (we’ll say ham because what better way to spite Ganon than by eating pig for lunch). Hyrule has probably even upgraded since his first adventure and it’s not just your basic salted ham food (which already costs about the same as a magic shield in game), it’s probably the Hyrulian equivalent of Jamón Ibérico de Bellota from his buddy pal Zelda(s) at the castle. I know I’d give someone a fancy ham for saving my kingdom twice. Hyrule is basically a gourmet at this point. You need quality nutrients to grow healthy hair, as our traveler pointed out, and who has the bestest most fluffiest hair? Hyrule does. Look at the fluffy:

It is absolutely possible to make tasty soup from the most basic 100 rupee cured ham. That’s a real thing that real people do in real life. You can even do it with 50 rupee ham in a can if you’re desperate (I say 50 rupee instead of 25 because of inflation). Hyrule put the bone in too so not only is there the salty flavor from the cured meat, he very well could have been making a nice bone broth for his injured colleague (he could have put other ingredients in off screen too but that’s beside the point). Ever heard of broth based soup? Probably not if you are a croissant eater who never had to cook ham water for yourself on the road. Croissants aren’t even that good unless they have chocolate in the middle, and that’s just because of the chocolate. If you’re going through the effort of laminating all that dough you should just go all the way and make something actually good like pastéis de nata.

Anyway, Hyrule is implied to be a terrible cook and I love that for him. Mostly I just wanted to take this chance to complain about croissants.

[uhhlifeig]

Giving - Dec. 12th - word count: 729 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus Lupin sat down near the hearth of Potter Manor, holding a plate of pastries and a mug of hot chocolate.

Sirius Black was sitting right next to him in the little circle that his friends had made. Remus smiled at his boyfriend and passed him a Muggle store-bought croissant, grinning when Sirius wrinkled his nose.

“Moony, are you trying to poison me? What is this- this abomination?” Sirius asked, dropping the pastry on the floor. “How dare you hand that to me?”

“Well, Sirius, you were the one who suggested we get some Muggle foods to try over Christmas hols. It’s not my fault,” Remus shrugged.

“How dare you, Moony,” Sirius said, putting a hand on his heart and pretending to faint like a Victorian-Era lady. “That is pure lies and slander, and you know it.”

“Shut up, Sirius. We want to start the gift opening,” grumbled Lily from where she was nestled into James’s side. “Save the dramatics for later.”

“Fine,” Sirius pouted, righting himself. “Who’s up first?”

“Sirius,” Peter sighed, “If you had been listening then you would have realized that it was you first. But noooo, you had to go and faint over a croissant.”

“Hey! It was an utter travesty to all French food, stop defending that atrocity,” Sirius protested, getting up and walking over to the tree to get his gift. 

Lily had insisted on doing something different this year, so she had chosen some sort of Muggle tradition called “Secret Santa” or something like that. It involved slips of paper and also a lot of secrecy, but Sirius was great at secrecy.

Oh, and his gift was for Remus. It may or may not have been a stack of books, but that didn’t matter.

Sirius grabbed the bright red present with his name on it from under the tree and made his way back over to the group.

“Unwrap it!” cheered James, which caused Lily to smack him in the arm. 

Sirius did as told, and was surprised to see a bright red and gold scarf. He picked it up, trying to figure out who had given it to him. 

It must have been Lily, he figured, as she was able to knit and she also liked to make her friends gifts.

“Lily, was this from you?” Sirius asked.

“No, it wasn’t, actually.” She smirked and glanced at Peter, who sighed at her devious smirk. 

“It’s from me, Sirius,” Peter said. “I also charmed it to be durable and also to be warm no matter what, so that Padfoot has something to play tug with that’s harder to break.”

“Thanks, Pete,” Sirius said, pretending to blow him a kiss. “Such a thoughtful lad, you are.”

“Well yeah. It’s the season of giving, after all. Now,” Peter clapped his hands together. “Remus, you’re up.”

Remus made his way over to the tree as well, picking out a deep blue box and going back to the little circle that his friends had made. 

Upon unwrapping it, his eyes widened when he saw first editions of all of his favorite books. Who the fuck would have this much money- Oh. Wait. Sirius and James would.

Remus made a guess at who the gift-giver was. He did have a fifty-fifty chance, after all. 

“Sirius, fess up. Why’d you do this for me?” 

Sirius’s eyes widened, obviously not expecting his boyfriend to guess him first try. “I mean, you said you liked those books?” he said weakly.

“No, no. Well, yes, I do, but these are first editions, Sirius. I expect you know how rare and valuable these are, no? Why?” Remus asked, already doing mental calculations for how much he owed.

“Because I love you? You mean so much to me, and also that was, like, barely a dent in Alphard’s money. I’d totally do it again. When Wally and Onion die then I’ll buy you all the books you want., actually. Make them roll in their graves a bit, you know?”

Remus sat there, shocked, before regaining his senses and pulling his boyfriend into a kiss.

A good few seconds into the kiss, Remus heard James gag. “Get a room, you two. Please. You’re dirtying the pastries’ innocent dough.” 

They broke apart, shooting him a dirty look in unison before bursting into laughter. 

“The pastries? Seriously?” Lily said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, love. Siriusly.”

[merakiui]

So when are you dropping yandere Rollo stuff to celebrate getting the Catholic guilt Croissant, Mera? XD /j

October. >:D I plan to finish two Rollo fics around that time and post them for the spooky season. One is the dead dove Rollo fic, and the other one is about (sacrificial) goat-boy Rollo. <3 Malleus appears in both of them (much to Rollo's dismay).

[booksandglitter]

✨finished essay 1 of 4 today✨

also loved this café because they gave me hot water with my espresso so I got to choose how strong my americano is ☕️

[maldupay]

fuck i need to replay isat because i cant remember anything but um something something siffrin's increasingly concerning comments through the acts on losing his appetite -> getting violently hungry -> having tear induced nightmares about cannibalizing his friends

[croissantmusain]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: Getting Together, First Kiss, Making Out, Pre-Season/Series 08, Love Confessions, no beta we die like eddie's stache Summary:

Because it’s Buck. Buck who has been unknowingly loves him for God know how long. Buck who has been family long before Eddie decides that he should stop looking for a replacement of Shannon in Christopher’s life. He never has to. Buck has always been there, the line between Buck-the-best-friend and Buck-the-parent has been blurred and erased, and Christopher’s awared when he runs off to Texas, but his parents do not.

[croissantatwaitrose]

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of this blog, so to celebrate, for the first time in AGES… HERE’S A FIC!

Nothin too special or original.. just some giant!slime happening to find a tiny!quackity and uh… yeah y’all know the drill ☺️

C/Ws: vore, sorta fearplay, mouthplay blah blah blah all of that

Great. Just fantastic. Of course he managed to piss off all the wrong people, and get himself shrunk down. Quackity sighed. It wasn’t the first time it’d happened, and knowing his luck? It sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. He hoped, even with his shit luck, that he wouldn’t run into any of the wrong people, ones he’d pissed off or not. In fact, he had just decided that he did not want to see anybody until he had returned to his normal height, which was convenient timing to hear that familiar enthusiastic voice behind him.

“Hello Quackity from Las Nevadas! …you are Quackity from Las Nevadas, right?” The one time he did not want to see Slime. Again. Just fantastic. Quackity turned around to see the goopy man kneeling down to get a good look at him.

“Oh good! I knew it was you!” Quackity did admire how, no matter the circumstances, Slime always had that bright sparkle of life in his eye, even behind glasses. It never faded away, and it was the one thing that made him look remotely human. Still, as much as he admired the good spirits the slime hybrid possessed, he’d have to crush them here and now.

The thing was, Quackity had, in the little time and privacy that he got, researched on Slime’s species after the last time he’d been shrunk, and Slime had been acting oddly around him. He’d found out that slime hybrids were prone to experiencing intense predatory instincts, especially towards those of smaller species. What that essentially meant was Slime could and would eat him then and there, mercilessly. Slime wouldn’t have any idea what he was doing either, and slime hybrids, when they spot a vulnerable prey, intentionally or not, could very easily persuade that prey into doing exactly what they want. He didn’t exactly fear Slime, but he knew he needed to stay away from him.

“Look, Slime. I need to be away from people until this stupid fucking potion wears off. No offence, but that still most definitely includes you, and I hate to say it ‘n all, but especially you.” Slime frowned, not really understanding.

“But… you need me to take you back to Las Nevadas, don’t you? I mean, it’d take ages for you to get anywhere at that height!”

There it was, Quackity noted. The subtle persuasion. And although he hated to say it, Slime was right. Where they were currently? Ages away from anywhere, and that problem would be quintupled for Quackity.

“I… suppose you’re right. Take me back with you then.” Quackity tried to ignore his own instincts screaming to run away as he climbed onto the slime hybrid’s hand. To his slight surprise though, Slime didn’t act upon any instinct he may or may not have been having either, and instead walked at a leisurely pace while babbling about god-knows-what.

Quackity took that as an opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts. Well, he was certainly having thoughts of jumping off Slime’s palm, but that would even more certainly break every bone in his body if he did so. So he ruled that possibility out. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get all the way back to Las Nevadas without being eaten - or better yet - until he was back to his normal height. Quackity didn’t want to just wait to see how things played out, but it was pretty much the only thing he could do.

He had been lost in his thoughts for so long that he hadn’t even noticed his slimy companion going silent. His walking had slowed a little, too.

“You okay-”

Slime quickly cut him off.

“Have you ever wondered what it’s like to have someone inside of you, Quackity?” No use of full name. Definitely suspicious. He scoffed nervously.

“Depends uh… what type you mean.”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

There was a long pause.

“I suppose not.. not really. No.”

“I think about it a lot, Quackity.” His expression was unreadable. Blank.

“Was there a point in asking me this?”

Slime suddenly tightened and readjusted his grip, holding Quackity tightly in his fist. The duck man had the air knocked out of him, now he could barely breathe at all.

“S-slime please let me go- you have no idea what you’re doing!”

“Sure. I can let you go.”

Slime held Quackity over his mouth. It was then that the winged man noticed that the slime hybrid was drooling. Panic swept over him in that moment. How long had he been suppressing this??

“Oh shit- not like that!” Quackity yelled out, but it was already too late. Slime had already dropped him in his mouth. And it was a lot more… wet than he had expected - but then again - he wasn’t sure what he had expected anyway.

He didn’t have time to ask himself that, though, as the even wetter tongue immediately assaulted him: spinning him around, licking him all over, pinning him to the roof of his mouth - Slime was clearly enjoying himself. The loud rumbling of the slime hybrid’s stomach made him even more nervous. He couldn’t taste that good… could he?

Things were going quite fast though. Before he knew it, he was being swallowed to the growling depths below. He tried to squirm frantically, but it made no difference, other than making Slime purr. Was Slime walking now? Maybe. Quackity couldn’t really tell. All he knew was that he wanted to get out of there. He didn’t even know how safe he was, but based off of the situation at hand, he assumed that he wasn’t safe at all.

He chose to fight back rather than wait to find out. He shoved at a stomach wall, but all that happened was his hand going into the stomach wall. Quackity hadn’t even considered that was possible. He would’ve thought that was cool, if it weren’t for the fact he was incredibly scared for his life.

What wasn’t cool was that he could feel Slime patting at him. The fuck? Did he really have to rub it in (punintended 😛)?

So he was trapped in here and he couldn’t struggle? Fantastic.

~~~woo timeskip of 2 hours my bestie~~~

After what seemed like decades later, the walking stopped, then a slight gravity shift occurred. Quackity hadn’t even noticed or cared, he was just so bored of being trapped in this little space. Around ten minutes passed with nothing happening. Then, a hand plunged into Slime’s stomach, and poked around until it found the duck man. This, Quackity did notice. The hand grabbed him, and it was then that Quackity realised it wasn’t a hand at all, but a paw. A fox paw. Fundy had come to save him? How did he even know Quackity was there?

Fundy not-so-gently yanked Quackity out of there. Fundy’s paw and the whole of the duck man were coated in green slime. He patted Fundy’s paw as a non-verbal thanks, before looking around for Slime. He was asleep on a chair. Bastard.

(We are NOT going to talk about how I didn’t proofread this… okay)

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[a2zillustration]

Well done, Gale.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[ryctone]

it was money I swear-

[movie-plush-baby]

mildly interesting form for Ruler of the Ephemeral Flow in my Director’s Rift AU.

other forms for these other dumbasses /aff will come soon.

[butchered-icarian]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro, Monkey D. Luffy & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Roronoa Zoro, Portgas D. Ace (brief), Silvers Rayleigh (brief) Additional Tags: Canonical Character Death, Canon Compliant, Reunions, Touch-Starved, Touching, Character Study, Post-Time Skip, No beta we die like Gol D. Roger, References to Depression, Separation Anxiety Series: Part 5 of all the words that came out wrong (and him) Summary:

"Zoro has been handsome before, Luffy thinks, but not quite like this, while runs his meandering touches through the swordsman's harsh lines, linger until the other’s face softens. He even managed to draw out a small smile tucks away at the edge of Zoro's lips, at that moment, he feels as if someone really throw a punch at his chest - Zoro looks at him with this indescribable gentleness that absolutely does not help with the craving fire nested inside his belly.

For a moment, Luffy almost feels angry at himself."

or,

Luffy and Zoro relearns the features of their loves after two years apart.