#if anyone wants me to expand

[toshidou]

not to be very on brand but i am very much thinking about chubby chaser logan.

i just KNOW he goes absolutely fucking feral for plush curves, practically obsessed with the way fattened flesh spills between his fingers when he fucks you, how your stomach ripples with every sharp cant of his hips against your ass; it sets a wildfire of pure unadulterated lust through his veins, teeth clenched as he desperately tries to keep his claws in the confines of his skin-

... i need to stop.

[monkesupreme]

ref

a satisfactory answer for Selina

[dammjamboy]

I LOVE AU'S!!! i might have gotten a little carried away though ;;;

alt versions under the cut! including a version with the translated ciphers ^^

[astronnova]

proposition: danny's hair turns white in random patches when he's used too much power, he just dyes it back to all black when he gets home

[zillychu]

On their way to Bambouche, the party stops by a restaurant. A nice meal is had, the sun is setting, the day is winding down.

Until Siffrin sees the couples' deluxe dessert special on the menu.

"Quick, someone pretend to be bonded with me!" Siffrin slaps the menu down with a sweaty palm, fire in his eye and maybe a little drool on his chin.

Odile's hand is on Isabeau's shoulder with the speed and expertise of a handler whose dog was just offered bacon.

"Isabeau," She speaks calm and quiet, as Mirabelle and Bonnie scoot in close to Siffrin, oo-ing and aa-ing at the lavishly illustrated confectionary. "Wait just a moment."

"Madame..." Isa whines with such a shake to both voice and legs (had he really already been on his feet?), that Odile returns to the dog metaphor. She nods her head towards the three at the other end of the table.

They all look as desperate as Isa does right now, starry-eyed and giddy as they point out the obscene number of strawberries, the generous portion of vanilla-bean ice cream, and ooh is that lava cake? It's huge, but they can afford it at 50% off!

"I know you need this like a drowning man needs air," Odile doesn't even keep her tone down this time, she's hardly the only one with at least one eye. "but consider:"

Siffrin, Mirabelle, and Bonnie look up at them, curious.

"It would be hilarious to see Siffrin and Mirabelle fail at this spectacularly."

Silence falls across the table. Hands shake. A dry throat tries to swallow.

Isa quietly sits back down in his chair.

"S-sorry, Sif..." Isa scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

"HAH!!!"

"Madame you traitor!!"

"Wait wait wait Isa hold on, we could still--"

"Ah-ah, Isabeau made his decision. Don't be a sore loser now."

"Oh Change--okay, okay I can do this. We can do this, Siffrin!"

"Belle, Belle! Give Frin one of your earrings!"

"... Oh no my ears aren't pierced, why did I never pierce my ears??"

"Just, uh... stick it on your cloak? That might be obvious enough! I think!"

"Okay, yeah--w-wait, what's our story?"

"Story? We need a--oh Change of course we need a backstory! What if they ask us how long we've been bonded?"

"We'll just, we can, um--"

"The waiter's coming back, quick hurry up!!"

-----

A waitress stands next to a portly man in a fine dress shirt, the two of them watching the commotion as the new guy (oh, poor Oliver) tries his best to handle delivering a final dessert order to Vaugarde's Saviors--and finding out Housemaiden Mirabelle is, apparently, betrothed.

He's handling it about as well as his previous interactions, having been ordered not to call attention to the heroes' identity or fame, give them some space to breathe. Things certainly would go a lot smoother if he had any semblance of a poker face, but at least three of them seem to trust his feigned ignorance.

The Housemaiden and her companion with the cloak look like they're about to melt off the table by the time Oliver starts walking off with an empty tray. The kid with them is already digging in, picking off strawberries and laughing uproariously while the tall gentleman across from them vibrates in fits of giggles.

"... Do they know... we would have given them the cake for free...?"

[miriaocs]

GET TO KNOW YOUR TWST OCs (and their relationships)

(Or how I make up excuses to blabber about my OC lol. Most of the "who" questions are aimed at the twst cast, but feel free to include other twst OCs as well!)

Name: What does your twst OC's name mean? Why does Rook/Floyd call them [insert nickname]?

Inspiration: Is your twst OC inspired by any villains? Concepts? Anything Disney-related?

Age/Birthday: How old is your twst OC? When is their birthday? Whose birthday (among the cast) is closest to your twst OC's? Does the horoscope lie or do they get along well?

Dorm: Which dorm is your twst OC in? Why? Which qualities they have make them suitable for said dorm? Do they have a roommate and how is their relationship?

Class: Who is your twst OC's classmate(s)? How would you describe their relationship? Did they have different classmates in previous year and did they get along?

Height: How tall is your twst OC? Are they conscious about their height? Are they close to someone with similar leg length?

Hair/Eye color: What are your twst OC's hair and eye colors? Who got the closest/opposite palette to them?

Homeland: Where is your twst OC from? Do they know anyone from the same hometown prior to NRC?

Club: Which club does your twst OC join and why? Is there anything memorable about the club fair day/their first day at the club? Which clubmate is their favorite?

Subject: What is your twst OC's best subject? Worst? Do they study with another whom excels at the same subject? Do they ask anyone for help with the subject they are bad at?

Hobby: What are your twst OC's hobbies? Who among the cast will they possibly ask to join in their pastime?

Pet peeves: What are your twst OC's pet peeves and which one in the cast accidentally (or not) commit the "crimes"? How will your twst OC deal with that person?

Food: What is your twst OC's favorite and least favorite food? Why (optional)? Is there anyone they can share their favorite food? Is there anyone they can count on to take over the food they dislike?

Talent: What is your twst OC's talent(s) and who can properly appreciate that?

Unique Magic/Signature spell: What is your twst OC's UM (if applicable)? What can they do? What is the incantation? Is there any weaknesses/loopholes and who can exploit those?

Quote: Give me something your twst OC will say. Either something they always say or something iconic they said. Something that helps solve the problems or something that is a catalyst to even more issues.

(Ok I'm kinda running out of ideas here) Personality: Give me 3 adjectives to describe your twst OC. Or an essay. Whichever works. Whose personality among the cast is closest to your twst OC and do they get along?

Backstory: Tell me anything about your twst OC's backstory. Their childhood, their parents, their siblings etc. Does their backstory affect how they are as a character now and how they interact with the cast?

Pick only one: Let your twst OC pick only one and explain the reasons: only one favorite from each dorm, only one favorite housewarden/vice housewarden, only one favorite first/second/third year etc.

(For my beloved yume shippers) Partner: Who do you ship your twst OC with? Are they in a relationship? If yes, how did it start/end? If no, why?

[black-and-yellow]

Grump doodles for your viewing pleasure

[bbuzz28]

Memories

Old man Fiddlestan, my beloved-and what's this? It could be semi-canon compliant :O ?!?! Woof- this is one of the saddest things I have ever written. I know some of you gremlins (affectionate) love that sort of thing, but I don't. I like really really don't. This is my comfort ship, so I don't even know where this came from other than trying to figure out how they *could* work in canon. Truthfully though, I prefer my Fiddlestan heavy on the comfort when it comes to the "hurt/comfort" genre. This is my only “angsty” (i.e. no immediate happy ending) Notes-app fics, so don't get used to this level of sad from me lol.

“Stan?” an oddly familiar voice called. Mr. Mystery, Stan Pines, glanced up from the flyers he was organizing and found that Old Man McGucket stood in the doorway of his front door. The last tour of the day had just left, it was dinnertime, and he was exhausted. Stan rolled his eyes as he unfurled his tie, wishing Soos was still there to escort the crazy old man off his property. No matter what he did, the old hillbilly always managed to find his way back to the Shack. “Sweet Moses McSuckit, what are you doing in here? Shoo, scat, or whateva will get rid of ya.” Hearing no movement, he looked at the man again and found he was standing erect. His blue eyes were the clearest he had seen them in no less than a decade.

          Wait, what did he call- oh. Oh no.

“Stan…ley? Did I…did I do somethin’ wrong?” the other man asked, his hands twisted in knots in front of him. Memories flashed through Stan’s mind; Ford falling through the portal, Fiddleford finding him passed out in the lab, working together to bring Ford home again…being together. Being happy. They had been happy, if just for a little while, hadn’t they?

Then there was the cult, and his discovery of the damn memory gun that had finally ruined everything they ever built. He took a hesitant step forward, a thousand thoughts roaring in his mind at once. “Fidds? Wha-what do you remember?” A bandaged hand snaked up and rubbed over the faded scar on the side of his head “I…don’t rightly know. Did we…I think we had a fight? I just woke up in the…in the dump. N’ I don’t have any shoes. Do ya know why my arm is in a cast?” Fiddleford looked so lost.

Stan knew in his heart that all of this was fleeting- “clarity” would hit Fiddleford every few years after he had finally wiped his mind of himself. Almost like his brain was trying to jumpstart itself back together. The first time they thought it was a miracle but…it didn’t last. It just started a trend that would follow them both for the next almost thirty years. Fiddleford would seemingly “wake up” and be lucid for a few weeks in the beginning, then eventually only a matter of days. It had been so long since the last time that Stan would wager, they only had maybe a few hours together if he was lucky.

The last time Fiddleford was himself…they had fought. Stanley thought he had figured the only way Fiddleford could stay; he needed to remember. Remember everything he had ever forgotten. At the time, Fiddleford had been unwilling to try. He didn’t think he could handle it; he knew he had forgotten what he had for a reason.

Stanley had gotten as close to begging as he ever had in his life since surviving Tijuanna, and when it had no effect…Stanley had told Fiddleford to leave and never come back. He had left that night, and by the next day he had faded away again. After a while, Stan thought his last words had been the final nail in the coffin that was Fiddleford’s mind. He carried that weight along with every other mistake he had ever made. But here he was. Fiddleford. His Fiddleford.

He took a deep breath before he opened his arms up. “Hey, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter. I’m right here.” Fiddleford rushed through the doorway, melting into Stanley’s open arms. “I went away again, didn’t I?” Stan could feel Fiddleford’s tears soaking into his chest, his own whispering at the edges of his eyes. Yes, and you will leave again. You will leave me and I will be alone all over again, you fucking asshole. “Hey cowboy, didn’t I just say not t’ worry about any a’ that? You’re here now, n' that’s what matters. You’re…you’re home.” A haggard laugh vibrated through the smaller man’s chest into Stanley’s own. “I know I keep tellin’ ya, tellin’ me not t’ worry is like” “…tellin’ a fish t’ stop swimmin’; I know Fidds, I know.” Fuck was really the only conscious thought that went through his head as he held his one-time lover. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, again.

Fiddleford looked up, eyes wide and searching Stan’s face. “How long do ya think we have?” Stan shook his head, unwilling to lie even if it eventually wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t remember. You’ve always been the only person I couldn’t lie to. “I dunno, it’s been…a while. Probably not very long.” Fiddleford closed his eyes before he said “I need ya t’ know somethin’, Stanley.” Stan started to shake his head. “Fidds, you don’t have t-” The look on the other man’s face shut Stan right up-he had always had that ability. Stan wished he didn’t miss it as much as he did. “I need ya to know that even when I’m not here…I miss you. The part of me that’s somewhere in here-” A weathered hand tapped the side of his head to emphasize his point “ misses you. I’m just so sorry, Stanley. Sorry that I’m a coward. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to be here all the time…but I’ll never stop tryin’. I’ll always try n’ come home to ya.”

Stan thought of the thousands of times he had chased Old Man McGucket, the neat little character that Stan had to compartmentalize his Fiddleford into when he wasn’t himself, out of the Shack. How many times he had found him curled up like a cat on the back porch. How every time they “met”, McGucket would say how nice Stan was or how good he felt to be around him “for some reason.” How many odds and ends McGucket would gift Stan from the dump for exhibits at the Mystery Shack with a large smile and nothing substantial behind his eyes.

It would be so much easier if he would stop trying to come back. Maybe the hole in Stan’s heart the size of the sweet, certifiably insane man would scab over. How many times had Stanley mourned him? How many times was he willing to hurt himself? They were now nearing their sixties, how long was he really willing to do this song and dance?

What’s one more time? he softly thought, his hand coming up to tenderly cup the grizzled face of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Mad scientist, friend, and unfortunately for them both…the love of his life.

“I miss you too, Fidds.”

[awaywithself]

thoughts on “fell first” sanji and “fell harder” zoro? “fell harder” sanji and “fell first” zoro seems more typical for their characters so it’s seen more in fanfic, but i think a reversal would be just as fitting.

sanji, who’s been in love since they were in east blue waters, learning to temper his affections so it simmers just beneath his skin, his expressions, his actions. undeniably constant, but subtle, controlled, and nonetheless warm- like the flame of a lighter. when he hands zoro something he prepared with extra thought and care and is gifted a small, pleased smile after the mosshead takes a brutish bite, he tucks the vision away into his pocket like a handkerchief. something to retrieve and treasure later.

then there’s zoro, who had always acknowledged sanji as an equal- his other half in battle. he knew sanji was important to him, that they had a bond that differed from those he shared with his other crewmates. it wasn’t until the events of zou and whole cake island did he realize it was love. and since then, he’s been in a constant war with his feelings- a kind of battle that made him plant his feet, grit his teeth, and clutch his heart like he did his swords. everytime he saw sanji, he was engulfed in rampant thoughts, loud and wild like the bonfire that illuminates a chaotic celebration.

and sanji, who’s been there and done that, easily shoots a glare, already long accepted it would never happen.

[lunellum]

I've seen some folks criticise the Decameron (the Netflix show) for not being "authentic" and "accurate" enough for

being too colourful

being too horny

being too silly and not serious enough when it comes to the subject of death and pandemic...

To which I would like to say they've clearly never looked into actual medieval history, culture and literature.

[padfootastic]

oooh i have thoughts about codependent golden trio, stay with me for a second:

- ron and hermione slowly training harry out of his touch aversion by consistently showering him with small, gentle, touches. they never make it a Thing, it’s so casual harry himself forgets it’s happening a bit, but it’s crucial for him to become comfortable with being touched by anyone

- slowly, as years go by and harry’s nightmares become worse, ron progressively moves from calling his name, to waking him up, to putting a hand on his shoulder(s), to practically moving into his bed to wrap himself around harry. the first time it happened, ron’s face was fire truck red and harry was baffled to the point of incoherence (and for a second, it seemed like all their progress so far would be undone) but as before, they slowly chipped away at harry’s defences with steady support

- hermione, who was able to tweak the protean charm for the DA, created a more specific one more her and ron. if the nightmares were particularly bad, he would ping for her and she would immediately bustle up to the boys dorms. this is rly how she became so comfortable up there and after a bit, the other boys realised why she was there and let her go about the golden trio business in peace.

- and so you have harry waking up with ron and hermione in his bed pretty regularly. they were able to figure out how to expand it pretty early on (combination of some theorising and dobby’s magic) so now all that’s left is figuring out nightly configurations. more often than not, it’s either hermione or ron in the middle bc harry cannot abide being boxed in both ends. but both of them always have an arm of leg on some part of harry, as if to reassure him, even in sleep, that they will never let go.

- some point on fifth year, when he’s so fucked by the voldy visions, the only way he gets any sleep is when ron’s tucked him under his arm and on his lap, or hermione has her hands carding through his hair and head on her thigh, turned towards her stomach as if protecting him from the world. he falls asleep in the common room armchair in front of the fire with ron’s hand around his calf, massaging lightly, and hermione perched on one side of it, arm around his shoulders.

- during the horcrux hunt, this only became more common. there were very few nights they did not sleep in the same bed. privacy was almost nonexistent. they often had to bathe one another when they couldn’t get out of bed due to the grief, or went catatonic with shock etc etc.

- after the war is when people slowly started realising their tendency to be so close. until then, no one really paid attention to these three kids, atleast not so closely. but now all eyes are on them. and so the adults, the order and the weasleys and remus and sirius, see how they go into the same room at the end of the day, come out of it together in the morning. how harry using the bathroom doesn’t stop hermione from going in to brush her teeth, or ron walks around in just a towel without any hesitation when it’s the two of them but yelps and covers up when anyone else walks in.

- they see how hermione hates having her hair touched but will happily fall into a light doze when one of the boys is playing with it, and harry, who will go stiff as a board when someone so much as brushes against his side, will literally melt into a puddle when ron or hermione hug him tight. they’ve never seen ron as calm, or as settled, as when he’s around the other two—he has a purpose, and it’s never been more clearer than in those moments.

[oscahpitlane]

i do × landoscar

[raccoonbraingobrr]

Accidental Cannibalism AU

so while the fenton parents aren’t known for their world class parenting skills, they can usually keep food in the fridge (the local grocery store gives them a 76% discount so they don’t blow it up)

however, on one memorable occasion they spend almost a week in the lab, only coming up to put samples in the fridge (this will definitely have no lasting effects on the other food in it) (the hotdogs have started another uprising)

now danny has been managing with cheap takeout and cafeteria food, and thankfully jazz is on a weeklong class trip- probably eating non-potentially poisoned food- but he’s running out of cash, and the cafeteria has been serving increasingly more dubious refried beans that danny is pretty sure expired in 1956.

needless to say, when he sees unlabeled but notably not sentient meat in the fridge, he sprints to get a frying pan as fast as possible before it changes its mind, and then wolfs it down as quick as he can without choking.

He feels sort of funky afterwards, but he chalks it up to the meat being in the fridge for more than five minutes.

When jack and maddie fenton emerge from the basement to put more samples in the fridge, they notice something odd.

“Jack, did you move the flesh sample they gave us from the morgue? I could’ve sworn it was in here.”

[ailithnight]

Imagine some desperate parent in Gotham taking a gooning job for one of the big rogues explicitly so that when the Bats catch the rogue, cause the Bats always catch the rogue, they can beg the Bats to find their missing kid.

[crime-wives]

when emma’s hurt by something, she pushes it down and away and pretends until she can’t anymore. she bends and bends and sometimes she can steady herself, pull herself back from the precipice. until she breaks, and all the hurt springs back and she’s an open wound. a lost girl who’s always running, always afraid. emma fears her pain will make her unlovable. that the people she loves will leave if they realize the breadth of the wounds she carries. emma is bruised knuckles and hard, lonely eyes and an indescribable ache.

regina is more obvious in her hurt. she’s angry. a storm. she wields her pain as a weapon. she is not afraid to be seen in her intensity. often, it’s a mask to cover to the grief she feels. her life has been a series of losses strung together with only her as a constant. love is often the source of her pain. she feels so much hurt because she has the capacity for so much love. beyond the anger is so much self loathing and hatred. anger is the easier of the two. she is rage and she is destruction, and if she can’t find someone to destroy, she destroys herself.

emma grew up angry, regina grew up sad. they both became what they needed to survive.

[prosperdemeter2]

I know everyone is all "I hate that they're pushing the everyone forgives the Buckley parents" agenda, including me, but also I think we're just accepting something at face value that doesn't need to be accepted and missing what could be really good character nuance (and something so much more miserable and realistic in some parent-child relationships): Buck hasn't forgiven them, he's just stopped expecting more than they'll give. Maybe expecting isn't the right word, maybe I mean hoping for.

He's stopped hoping for his parents to be anything more than what they will always be... and that in itself is such a hard, heartbreaking, detail if you stop to think about it.