#platonic ships
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dumbdolphin333 · 2 days ago
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um eah platonic ships + headcanons bcuz why not
Maddie and apple
-they are literally co presidents (is that what they're called? Idk I forgot)
-apple has an interest in wonderland and Maddie clearly loves wonderland
-maddie is raven's best friend, so she would prolly cross paths w/ Apple a fair bit considering that apple and raven are roommates
-apple just needs Maddie in her life
2. Darling and Chase
-basic but for a reason
-training sessions where they would act like they're fighting to the death even tho if either actually hurt the other they would cry and bring them chocolate and flowers
-constantly gets mistaken as a couple. They are both gay
-smth abt the red/black versus the white/blue combo just gives life long friendship to me idk
3. Daring and Apple
-platonic daring and Apple for life
-they felt awkward around each other at first, but quickly started to hang out more
-very strong friendship, after literally being in an arranged marriage together for years and knowing each other since childhood it's kinda hard not to know each other super well
-movie nights every Friday. Apple makes popcorn and daring brings a new candy every week (he tries his hardest not to repeat any, so this leads to some very odd choices)
4. (Frenemies) duchess and blondie
-they love gossipping together in theory, but not in practice. Blondie thinks that duchess is too mean (Blondie is also mean but in a "I'm just giving you honest opinions and advice" way) and duchess hates how Blondie is always trying to film her
-blondie is super judgemental so whenever she sees Duchess with sparrow she's always like "him? Really? He is not just right"
-whenever she's mad at Blondie duchess will slightly damage her filming equipment (denting her microphone, cracking a camera lense, etc.). It's never enough to really impair anything, but Blondie does often wonder why her microphone that should be good for a couple years declines within a few months
-despite petty arguments, they are always casually talking shit in the hallways. This makes them think that they can have a friendship outside of the hallways. They cannot and the above is the result of that ignorance
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mikiib · 2 months ago
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If you don’t see one you like, please feel free to comment below, and I’ll do my best to make sure to add it to the stream!
Feel free to give me prompts as well!
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Me excited to see what ship you all like the most ^
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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 year ago
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Bloody Pardon
Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader ~ Despite your feelings towards Anthony Lockwood, you're starting to think that nightmare you had about locking him in a trunk chest might have actually been a dream.
Disclaimer: no idea on legally binding marriages but we'll ignore that for this fic. Quill Kipps platonic relationship with the reader (frenemies + his crush on Lucy)
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You laughed nervously. “What?”
Lucy stood up from her corner of the sofa to look at the wide-eyed George. “George? Please, please tell me this is an April Fools.”
“Given that it’s the middle of November, this is definitely not an April Fools.” George replied. 
“George!” 
You hadn’t meant to call his name so loudly, but the information he’d just given you pardoned your reaction. 
“What if you just ask him about it? Maybe he’ll have an explanation.”
“An explanation?” you questioned before laughing. “Oh, he better. Or else, I’ll kill him.”
Lucy jumped in front of you and pulled you back. “Wait, no. Don’t. Not yet. Look, we don’t even know if he knows yet.”
“How can he not know?”
“You didn’t.”
“He’s the one who probably signed the papers in the first place, Lucy!”
“Look, why doesn’t one of us just go and ask him?”
“Great!” you forced a smile. “I’ll go.”
“Absolutely not.” Lucy pulled you back again. “George, you go.”
“But-”
“George.”
“Fine.”
George disappeared from the doorway and made his way upstairs towards Lockwood’s room. He’d been up there most of the day running through multiple papers on the business and the cases that had come through in the past couple of days. 
“Lucy?”
Lucy turned around and found you slumped against the arm of the sofa. 
“Hey,”
Pulling your hands from your face, Lucy held onto your wrists and knelt down. “Look at me.”
“How could this have happened?”
“I don’t know. But I do know Lockwood.”
Lucy paused for a moment. “I don’t think he will even know what this is about.”
“But if he has…”
“Then we’ll deal with it and I’ll help you bury his body in the back garden. You’ll get through this. We all will.”
“I don’t even know how this could have happened.”
Lucy pulled you in for a hug, tightly. “How about I pop the kettle on? Make us some tea? Two sugars?”
You nodded. “Thanks.”
“Come on.”
However, before either of you could get out of the living room, Lockwood came running down the stairs, George quick on his tail. “Lockwood?”
Lucy called his name but there was no breaking his concentration from the paper in his hand that had both his own handwriting on and somebody else’s. He rushed around the place before making his way into the kitchen. 
Luckily, you managed to catch the door before it slammed behind him and you made your way inside. 
“Lockwood?”
“Something’s not right.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Saint’s would have said something. Surely, he would have-” 
He was talking about the case. 
“Lockwood? Did you not hear anything George told you?” Lucy asked before turning to her left. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”
“Yes! Whether he listened or not, I don’t really know.”
“Lockwood!” you called his name again, but still nothing. 
“Tony!”
Oh, boy. 
You took the paper from his hand and slammed it onto the counter top.
“My- what? Am I in trouble?”
“Trouble? Have you not listened to a word George told you?”
“When? Oh, no. But I think I’ve almost solved-”
“We’re married, Tony!”
Lockwood’s face went from a smile to a confused and nervous look of curiosity. “What?”
“Surely, you would have known? After all, you were the one who was left alone in the courthouse three months ago.”
“Courthouse? What are you talking about?”
Sighing, you made your way to George who handed you the three pieces of paper he’d found when down at the CourtHouse himself. 
“Mr and Mrs Lockwood.” you read the first letter. “Congratulations on your marriage, enclosed you will find another copy of your marriage certificate…” you continued to read the rest of the letter before shoving it into his chest and reading aloud the next two. 
“A letter, sent to me by your Great-Aunt. Welcome to the Family. Now, as much as I love all of you as my family, I would have liked to at least be made aware that I was suddenly in need of changing my last name.”
The final piece of paper was a letter from Mark Smith-Kensington. 
“We have recently been made aware of your nuptials. In this case, you are in need of updating all of your personal information for the Post Office, as well as medical forms and driving license.”
You pushed the final letter against his chest. “What did you do Lockwood?”
Lockwood’s head was spinning. How could this have- oh. 
“Lockwood?”
Lockwood turned to both Lucy and George. He knew something. Maybe not what they suspected he knew, but he definitely knew something. 
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad? Ooh, Lockwood.” you had to laugh, or else you might have cried. “I am so far past mad. We are married and you didn’t even bother to, I don’t know, ask me? Tell me, even, that you’d decided to use my name for a marriage certificate.”
“It was meant to be fake-”
“I beg your bloody pardon?”
“It was meant to be fake. Remember how I told you I managed to get into Jameson’s Club so we could prove Harold was the murderer. Well, they didn’t exactly let single people in.”
“Oh, my god.”
“I swear, I thought it was fake.”
“Well, it’s very, very real Lockwood. Very real.”
“Where are you going?” Lockwood called after you as you made your way out of the kitchen, grabbing your jacket that lay on the back of the kitchen chair. 
“Out. Don’t follow me.”
You didn’t know how far you had travelled but eventually you came to a stop at a small, quiet park. You sat down on an old wooden bench that was donated by Harriet Smith - some wealthy heiress from New York who had spent her childhood in the park. 
After a while, you heard a voice. And it definitely wasn’t the voice you were expecting. 
“Hello.”
You sat up straight for a moment and looked around you before you found Quill Kipps standing behind you in a pair of jeans, a shirt and a grey woollen coat. 
“Oh, hi.”
“Mind if I-”
“Sure.” you smiled before he made his way around and sat next to you, leaving enough of a space between the both of you. 
“What are you doing this far away from the house?”
“I needed a break.”
“From…”
“Look, if you want me to shit-talk Lockwood, you can go and find someone else to do that with.” 
Quill studied your face for a short moment as you looked at him before turning back to look at the trees in the park. 
“What’s happened?”
“What?”
“No offence, but you’re not the best at hiding your emotions when it comes to Lockwood. What’s happened between the both of you?”
“Nothing.”
Kipps called your name in a soft tone. Despite your feelings towards him, you’d each found yourself in each other’s company in the time of need. And from that, a small friendship blossomed - despite the fact that both of you disliked it greatly. 
After all, you were both still rivals. 
You sighed. “Fine. You are looking at the new Mrs Anthony Lockwood.”
“What?”
You turned to look at him, “Lockwood and I are married. Apparently, the form he made me sign to get into Jameson’s was a marriage certificate.”
Kipps didn’t know where to put himself. He knew Lockwood could be reckless and stupid at times, but he didn’t think he would be that reckless and stupid. 
“I’d offer to kill him but I’d wager you already have that planned.”
“Death certificate is signed, sealed and delivered to the Grim Reaper.”
“Need a clean up crew?” Kipps offered. 
You laughed, “Thanks.”
“So that’s why you’re out here? Escaping your husband? I have to hand it to you, it’s a good alibi.”
You smiled again, keeping your arms folded across your middle. “Honestly, I…I don’t know whether to be mad and kill him or just…”
“Sit here forever?”
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I stick with you, for a while?”
“You don’t have your own surprise marriage, do you?”
Kipps laughed. “No. I just…I-I’m thinking about asking out a girl.”
“Is she cute?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you like her?”
“A lot.”
“Is she kind?”
“Yeah.”
“She Lucy?”
Kipps half answered you before turning his head to you where he found you with a smug smile on your face. 
“How did you-”
“Oh, please. I see you when you’re around her. You’re either blushing like an embarrassed toddler or you’re as speechless as a toddler.”
“Do you think she knows?”
“No. Or, if she has, she hasn't said anything.”
“Oh.”
Kipps seemed a little defeated at first. “But you should ask her out for a coffee at least. I have a feeling she’ll say yes.”
He smiled. “Great.”
“At least someone in that house will feel good about their love life.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” you shrugged. “But once he reads that letter, he’ll realise that his Great-Aunt Violet is coming for a visit to officially meet her new great-niece. So, that’ll be fun.”
“Well, I’m here if you need any back-up.”
“Thank you, Quill.”
“Anytime.”
Eventually, Quill helped you up from the bench and you both made your way back to Portland Row. On the way, you both stopped inside a small cafe for some food and a tea, making sure to pick Lucy up a loaf of bread and some doughnuts for George. 
Unlocking the door, Lucy met you at the bottom of the stairs where Quill called for her to talk. 
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.”
Making your way into the kitchen, you placed the packet of doughnuts onto the table for George. 
“Oh, thank you.”
“Where’s Lockwood?”
“In his room. He’s been on the phone to the marriage people since you left.”
You nodded your head and popped the kettle on, managing to make two cups of tea before Lockwood even thought to leave his room. 
Knocking on the door, you entered and found him with the phone and the back of his hand pressed to his head, his eyes shut closed. 
“Thought you might fancy a cup.”
Lockwood jumped at your voice but quickly tried to recover. 
“T-Thanks. Thank you.”
Pulling up a chair, you sat beside his desk, crossing one leg over the other. 
“I’m really sorry,” Lockwood began. “I - I know it was stupid. A completely stupid idea. And, I don’t want to just make an excuse.”
“But it was for the case.”
“I should have still thought. But, I swear. I swear to you, I really thought it was fake. If I’d have known-”
You nodded. “I know. I know you would have done. But…Tony, what are we going to do?”
“I’ve been trying to find out how to get a divorce but they keep sending me round the houses.”
“Did you read your Aunt’s letter?”
“Not fully.”
“She’s coming up to visit us in a week. Apparently wants to officially meet her niece.”
“That’ll be something.”
You nodded and the pair of you sat in a quiet silence for a few moments. “I’ll figure it out. I promise.”
“Thank you, Tony.”
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loganslowdown4 · 1 year ago
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Virgil: Hey Jan, can I have a Pepsi?
Janus: What did Logan say?
Virgil: He said no.
Janus: Then why are you asking me?
Virgil: ‘Cause he’s not the boss of you.
Janus: *whispering* It’s a trap it’s a trap it’s a trap....
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curiouslymyown · 19 days ago
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When will I find the Pandora to my Regulus
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infanttoes · 2 months ago
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The Closet Was Tinted Glass
Trans Katsuki AU! (Requested by a friend :D)
CW: unsafe binding, mention of dysphoria(very brief)
Locker rooms have always been a challenge to Katsuki. He's known he was a guy since the day he could understand the concept of gender at all, there was absolutely no changing his mind about it. If you told him otherwise, you'd either get blatantly ignored or screamed at. The only people he needed to accept him (his parents and Izuku), accepted him, and so he couldn't care less about the opinions of anyone else.
But ever since he got into high school, he decided he wanted a fresh start. Being a hero means that his public image mattered a whole lot more than it did in middle school, and being transgender in Japan isn't a great look. Best case scenario, he'll receive a lot of backlash. He doesn't even wanna think about the worst case scenario. Yikes.
So before the school year began, he made sure to visit Izuku at his house over their break and inform him that he is not, in fact, transgender but rather that he has always been a guy. Izuku, in his pijamas after a long day on the beach with All Might, tiredly grumbled that if he doesn't want him to tell anyone he's transgender, he won't. Katsuki bopped him on the head and left with a huff. At least he got his point across.
Everything went fairly well for the next two years concerning his identity. There was no speculation on social media, Izuku kept his word and didn't make a peep about it towards anyone, and his teachers were all pretty supportive since the start. He did have to lie to his classmates a few times concerning why he stays behind on the training grounds until everyone leave the locker rooms, but besides that, things were going smoothly.
That was until stupid, idiot Deku was too busy tying his signature red shoes to notice literally everyone else had gone out of the locker room. Katsuki unsuspectingly comes in, not bothering to check for any signs of life as he's been doing this routine for years and assumed it wouldn't change any time soon. To his surprise, when he begins tearing his sweaty costume off and setting each part down on the bench behind him, he hears a faint gasp.
"What the fuck?" He immediately yelps, turning his head so fast he gets whiplash. To his dismay, Izuku's standing across from him with an incredibly concerned pout and wide eyes.
"Did you seriously have your binder on that whole time? You're gonna get really hurt doing that," Izuku confronts, marching over to Katsuki and flicking him on the forehead. He winces at the sting but ultimately rolls his eyes.
"You don't have the room to talk, nerd. All I do is see your shithead will your life away on the daily. Besides, if I train without a binder, someone's bound to notice. Tits aren't exactly the most easy things to hide." He cringes internally at the memory of his classmates agreeing that he has a really feminine body type. That single handedly fueled his dysphoria for the following weeks.
"I can see the bruising, Kacchan! It's no wonder you've been taking so many breaks during training. When have you ever cared about people knowing anyway?" The shorter argues, seeming genuinely adamant about the topic, albeit a little embarrassed at the nature of it. Katsuki sighs, partly because he knows Izuku's right and also because he's annoyed at his hero complex.
"I fucking don't, dipshit. Those idiots just don't know how to keep their mouths shut and I'd be revolutionarily fucked if the press found out I was trans. It doesn't even hurt; we've been through worse and you should know that of all people."
Izuku's eyes soften. Now it’s his turn to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a moment to gather his words and put them in a way Katsuki will take into consideration.
"Okay, I get it. Coming out is really dangerous to your career. But letting yourself get injured like this is holding you back from your true potential; weren't you the one that got upset with Todoroki during the Sports Festival because he wasn't putting his all into the fight? You're disabling yourself just like he did."
At that, Katsuki stares at him blankly, unmoving and silent. To him, the world stopped spinning for a moment. He feels like the biggest hypocrite ever. Izuku's just about to accuse him of zoning out while he was rambling when he finally speaks up.
"Damn, you're such a hassle to deal with. Do you have an extra shirt I can wear then? A looser one?" Katsuki grumbles, uncharacteristically sheepish. Izuku's face lights up in an instant, letting out a relieved exhale and nodding. He slides his bag off his shoulders and places it on the bench, digging through for a couple seconds before pulling out a black tee that reads 'extra shirt' in small, bold lettering. Katsuki offers an unimpressed glance, snatching the shirt away and doing a 'shoo' motion.
Once Izuku leaves the locker room, Katsuki steps in front of the mirror. Seeing himself so up close is unsettling. The former was right; the bruising is super obvious. He slowly undoes each clip starting from the top, relief filling his lungs as their constraints are removed. His ribs are dotted harsh purple spots, a sickly yellow ring surrounding each of the dark marks. He stares at himself uneasily for another moment before forcefully tearing his gaze away, reaching for the borrowed shirt and pulling it over his head as quickly as possible. It fits nicely; more snug than it would've been on Izuku since he has a smaller form, but it's much less apparent than a tank top. He does regret not bringing a bra, but to be fair, he wasn't expecting to be given a (metaphorical) slap in the face for being a professional dumbass.
He isn't sure why he's nervous. He collects his miscellaneous belongings, shoving them in his tote bag and swinging it over his shoulder. It takes a significant amount of effort to trudge himself towards the door, trying to keep his nausea to a bare minimum as he pushes it open. He subconsciously has his arms crossed and body slouched when he walks out, as if trying to go unseen.
By the time he catches up with the rest of the class, they're seated at some outdoor table on campus, sharing the granola bars Eijirou packed in his sports bag. Training had been particularly rough today so a snack would do well by them. Katsuki inconspicuously slides onto the bench next to Eijirou and promptly tunes into the conversation. They're discussing the best horror movies and ranking them out of ten; nothing particularly interesting but enough to distract him from the pit in his stomach.
It's when Katsuki goes to stretch his arms that hell begins to raise. He groans lightly, the day leaving his body with each pop of his joints. The noise draws the attention of Denki, who would normally go right back to conversation, but his eyes caught something out of the ordinary.
"Woah dude, did your chest grow two inches in the past hour?" He teases unsuspectingly, a small snicker coating the question. Despite the obviously playful manner, Katsuki's face pales. Suddenly, any sense of relaxation he felt did a total 180 and he's back in panic mode. Just that simple sentence made his hands go clammy and his mouth dry as the Sahara Desert.
"The fuck? No, you dunce. Go back to talking about Annabelle or whatever," he growls, kicking Denki's leg under the table. He whines pitifully, mumbling a 'what was that for!'
"No, he's right! Did you get implants while you were gone? I mean, damn! Your tits are bigger than mine. It's almost like they're real," Mina comments, giggling. In hindsight, that probably isn't the best thing to say about someone, but she honestly didn't think anything was going to come of it.
Katsuki, on the contrary, was having a war inside his mind. On one hand, he knows his friends will accept him no matter what gender he was born as or conforms with. Everyone's already acutely aware that Eijirou is a little more interested in other men than he lets on so he has nothing to worry about. But on the other hand, he's actually really scared. Scared that he'll be treated with less respect or assholes will underestimate the extent of his abilities just because he happened to be born with different genitals.
Thinking back to what Izuku said, though, he's completely right. He's desperately trying to keep up his pride while simultaneously holding himself back. He'll never be able to fight properly if he's constantly hiding, and if you know Katsuki, you know that he's not satisfied with a half-assed fight. Finally, he decides he's pushed through pain for far too long.
"Probably because they are."
The table goes silent. Even Jirou looks up from her phone long enough to gape at the revelation. Katsuki's skin is burning under the intensity of all their shocked stares.
"Geez, don't make this more awkward than it has to be."
At the uncomfortable plead, Eijirou immediately goes to Katsuki's rescue.
"Bakubro, that's so fucking awesome! I had no idea, congrats on telling us!" He praises, wrapping his arms around Katsuki with tears pricking his eyes. Katsuki stiffens at the display of affection, half-heartedly trying to push him away.
"Shut the fuck up, that wasn't an invitation. And I did it for myself, not for you goons," he hisses, inevitably accepting the hug when Eijirou uses his quirk to stop his struggling. It takes barely a second for the rest of the group to begin fussing over him, sharing their congrats and how, 'wow, you passed really well.' Not like he doesn't know that. What shocked him the most, however, was Hanta silently pointing to himself and then holding up two fingers.
From the corner of his eye, he can see Izuku sitting at the table beside him with his own nerd club. Izuku smiles at him proudly. Katsuki smiles back.
positive feedback/kind criticism only please! <3
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votingonrandmthings · 1 month ago
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Vote On...
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disciple-of-frost · 3 months ago
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.:Auraugust2024 - Companion:.
 .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚           I'm here for you when you're in need... Know you can count on me...     ˚ .˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .        
Auraugust Prompt List
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productofaritual · 6 months ago
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Me when I try to get into any fandom that isn't the dsmp
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the-unlucky-trevor · 1 month ago
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Why am I craving Daniel+Esme content all of a sudden? Like, I need to have fanart or SOMETHING about it, as long as it isn’t Alabama, because 1. It's disgusting, and 2. Esme's already taken.
I can't draw it myself because I'm not very skilled at pose drawing, but I'm too scared to ask my m8s, so help me!
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jastopher-iii · 1 month ago
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I don't ship many characters from media I like, and when I do, it's mostly platonic ships and some romantic ships.
With that being said, here is a list of all my Danganronpa and Fanganronpa ships.
Platonic Ships:
DR 1:
Aoi & Chihiro & Sakura
Makoto & Yasuhiro
Leon & Sakura
Leon & Mondo
Makoto & Mukuro
DR 2:
Chiaki & Fuyuhiko & Ultimate Impostor
Chiaki & Gundham
Chiaki & Nekomaru & Akane
Chiaki & Hajime & Ibuki
Gundham & Sonia
Fuyuhiko & Peko (IDC if you think they should be a couple, I see them better as friends.)
Nekomaru & Gundham
Hiyoko & Ibuki
Teruteru & Nagito
Hiyoko & Mahiru
DR 3:
Shuichi & Kaede & Kaito & Maki (Shut up. no I do not ship Shuichi x anybody or Maki x any guy, nor will I ever)
Miu & Gonta (would be really funny)
Gonta & everybody (besides Kokichi)
Kokichi & Kirumi (would be a great dynamic)
Kokichi & Korekiyo
Keebo & Miu (Also as a FWB situation)
SDRA 2:
Iroha & Emma
Syobai & Sora
Sora & Yuki
Iroha & Kanade
Iroha & Hibiki
Hibiki & Setsuka & Iroha & Yoruko
Shinji & Yuki
P:EG
Eloise & Grace
Eloise & Desmond
Jett & Mark & Grace
Grace & Wolfgang
Jean & Ingrid
Toshiko & Grace
Cassidy & Jett
Kai & Jean
DRDT
Nico & Rose
Whit & Literally everybody
Eden & Teruko
Levi & Eden
J & Nico
J & Eden
J & Teruko
Min & Eden & Hu
Arei & Eden
Arei & David & Xander
Crossovers:
Gundham & Nico
Romantic Ships:
DR 1:
Mondo x Ishimaru
Sakura x Aoi
DR 2:
Gundham x Kazuichi
Teruteru x Nekomaru
Ibuki x Mahiru
DR 3:
Miu x Kaede
Miu x Keebo
Miu x Korekiyo
Himiko x Tenko
Tenko x Kaede
Kaede x Maki
Kaito x Kokichi
SDRA2:
Emma x Kanade
Sora x Yoruko
Emma x Hajime
P:EG:
None
DRDT
Levi x Ace
Veronika x Arturo
Crossovers:
Ibuki x Kaede
Ibuki x Miu
Ibuki x Tenko
Ibuki x Maki
Thank you for putting up with me for this long
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zoot-marimba · 9 days ago
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While it's a bit late, I finally have my one shot for @spstyleweek 2024 with a story of Stan and Kyle going camping in Uncle Jimbo and Ned's backyard before they're due to start high school.
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marvelwitchergilmore · 11 months ago
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The Look Of Terror
Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You joined Shield and when you're placed under a certain Team Leader, Peter can't help but worry about you.
Disclaimer: This is more platonic co-worker vibes, I think? Rather than romance? But there is romance in it? Fluff, angst, Peter takes care of the reader. Description of a panic attack, kidnapping, bombs and an asshole of a Team Leader. I'm a little unsure about this one. Comment if you'd like a Part 2???
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You were new to the team. 
It was no surprise since you joined a week late into the program that your Team Leader pushed you harder than the rest of them. But you were okay with it, most of the time. In the times where you weren’t, you’d spend a couple hours in the library reading of worlds that didn’t exist - or at least, you hoped didn’t exist. Because, for as much as seeing a fire-breathing dragon would be cool, it could also destroy most of the population of New York in one breath. 
It was six months into the program that Peter finally saw you. 
Not that you had noticed. 
He saw you on your first day of arrival. He heard your name mentioned in passing and that was as far as it went. Until the training rooms had to be pushed into one due to a leak in the women’s bathroom. It was then that you caught Peter’s eye. 
But not because of your looks, although he didn’t fail to notice your beauty. But because of the familiar look in your eyes. 
It took him a while to figure it out; what exactly the look was in the beginning, he couldn’t be too sure. 
For over a month, he studied you. 
You weren’t a part of his team. In fact, you were with a whole other training division. But in the days when he saw you, he studied you as best as he could before it could become border-line creepy. 
He saw you talk to people, but they never became friends with you. You were happy to help out people when they were struggling but most times, you were left on your own. Whilst other groups studied the Shield Handbook together, cutting the 500 page manual into respectable chunks, you sat on your own in the corner. A few people would look over to you and snigger or sneer. One trainee had said aloud about asking you to join them but everyone else shut the idea down right away. You were the rookie. 
What baffled Peter was the fact that the group of trainees, who refused to collaborate with you, were rookie’s too. 
Then, one day, he pulled your file. 
You had the highest test score out of your group. You were intelligent and smart. You had enough strength training to be transferred into a higher level but due to your qualifying status, you would only move up when the rest of the rookie’s did, too. 
So, after all of this, when he found you in the library alone one night, he decided to talk to you. 
“You must know that thing like the back of your hand.” 
Peter saw you jump a little and instantly regretted not making himself known to you sooner. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh, no. That’s fine. I-I should be heading home now, anyway.”
“You’ve finished that book three times this week alone. Shouldn’t you be out with the others having a…drink or something?”
“Maybe, but…I kind of prefer my solitude.”
“Ah, the mysterious lonesome type?”
“Some may beg to differ.”
“I’m Peter, by the way.”
“Y/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“You’re a part of Abbot's team, aren’t you?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I’ve seen your file.”
“You pulled my file?”
“That and I’ve seen him train you twice a week when all agents share the training room.”
A look of realisation crossed over your face. “Oh, shit. Sorry, you’re Agent Parker.”
“Please, call me Peter. Everyone else does.”
“By the handbook says-”
“That all employees refer to their Team Leaders by their working title.” Peter sounded off. “That was something written by Fury to keep HR happy. To be honest, I’ve never really liked it. You’re meant to be a team, and how can that happen if agents are too busy worrying about calling their team leader by their official title.”
“You have a point, but Abbot-”
“Drill it into you.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Well, if you ever need anyone to vent to, you can talk to me.”
“Thank you.” Then after a moment of consideration you asked; “Why you?”
Peter nodded. “I worked with Abbot before Barton came back. I’ve seen how he can train those in his team. I’ve also seen that your group doesn’t exactly seem to strive for trust. It can be hard, working alone. Believe me, I would know.”
“Well, thank you.”
The next day, as you sat alone in the cafeteria, you were slightly startled to find Peter place his food tray down in front of you. “May I?”
“G-Go ahead.”
It shocked you a little; how much Peter was trying to talk to you. By this point, you had been in the program almost six months and no one, other than Abbot when he was barking orders, bothered to try and interact with you - on any scale of capacity. 
And, for the following two weeks, it continued to happen. 
Peter would sit down with you in the cafeteria whenever you had a break from training together. He would join you in the library on late nights when he had to make test scores and you were going over the handbook once more. 
But it wasn’t until one evening when Peter noticed you had been a bit off for a couple of days, that he finally asked you what he’d been dying to ask you for weeks. 
There was a distant look in your eyes. Like as if something had crept its way out of the locked box you kept it sealed in, and was slowly making its way to the front of your brain. 
“What happened?”
It took you a moment to adjust back to reality before you could finally hear Peter’s question. 
“What?”
“What happened?”
“When?”
“Before you joined the programme.”
Peter could see you studying him before he saw a wall go up in front of your eyes. “Nothing.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing happened. I already told you why I joined Shield.”
Peter said your name, “I know the look of a horrible memory when I see it. What-”
“Nothing. Nothing happened, Peter. So, can you please just drop it?”
“Yes, sorry.”
You pulled the handbook back in front of you and began to skim through it again and again and again. 
Except, that wall that your build would soon crumble, even as you fought for it to stay standing. 
Three weeks later, and not saying a word to Peter, you found yourself in a training day that Abbot had set up without telling anyone. 
“You’re gonna have to stay on your toes. It’s not easy out there, so, first up!” 
Your name was called. 
Others were called after you and you were given five minutes to understand your mission. And it took everything in you not to stop breathing. 
As Peter made his way down to the training room, he found a “friendly” competition. The other Team Leaders had decided to get involved this time round and people were cheering and chanting and others were completely silent. 
And only then did he understand why. 
In the centre of the crowd, knelt three people and in the middle of them was you. 
No one else noticed, but Peter did. 
Your hands, despite the composure you were holding, were beginning to shake. Your eyes seemed glossier than the last time he had seen you and your breathing wasn’t like anyone else's. It was shattered. 
And, as much as he wanted to stop what was happening, he knew if he did, it would probably make it worse. 
Less than 30 seconds later, you were finished on the task in front of you and you stood back. 
“Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds!” Abbot called out your time. 
Peter watched as you turned your back and removed some of the equipment from your body before pushing your way to the back of the crowd. He rounded the corner of the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. 
A few minutes later, he watched as Abbot awarded one of the Rookie’s a gift-card of some kind and a medal. 
“Okay, that’s it for today! See you tomorrow!”
But you were the only one to leave. 
And Peter was hot on your train. 
From the moment you were given your task, your breathing was hitched in your chest and you couldn’t just quite fill your lungs with enough air to stop them from beating against your heart rapidly. 
Throughout the seven and a half minutes it took you to complete the task Abbot had given to you, you had been slowly losing clear vision due to the tears of old memories ripping their way into your mind. 
And once time had finally been called, you just had to force yourself to hold out a little bit longer. 
But, when your legs began to give out on you, you rushed to find a wall to support you. 
And, you did, for a moment. 
Your breathing was unsteady and out of control. Your head felt like it was spinning and you were going to throw up, all the while you could feel every single particle of blood in your body trying to fight its way into and through your heart. 
In a hazy distance, you heard someone call your name and you tried your best to focus and remain in control, but it didn’t work. 
It wasn’t until you heard a door click open behind you and a steady hand lead you inside that you sank to the floor in a weak attempt to try and ground your emotions. 
“Hey, look at me.”
You looked up and recognised the person who had helped you into the room. 
Peter.
You couldn’t speak. So Peter tried his best to calm you. 
“Just focus on my voice. Can you do that? It’s going to be okay. No one can hurt you here. You’re safe. I need you to keep looking at me. Here, pass me your hand.”
Peter took your trembling hand in his and held it against his heart. 
“I need you to try and focus on the beats. Can you do that for me?”
It took you a moment, but when Peter pressed his hand over yours so it pushed further into his chest, you finally felt his heartbeat against your palm. 
You tried your best to keep track of them, counting each one as they came. 
“Okay, good. Now, can you follow my breaths?”
You tried your best to follow his breaths. Breathing in with him, and breathing out just the same. 
It took a while but eventually your breathing returned, though it pained your chest a little when you did take in a deep breath. 
At some point, Peter had moved to sit beside you, placing an arm around you, yet still holding your hand against his chest. 
You didn’t know how long had passed before Peter spoke. It both felt instant and as if forever had passed. 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not yet.”
You didn’t want to recount, just yet. You didn’t want to remember, just yet. 
Eventually the light in the room dimmed and you found yourself standing. Peter had taken off his jumper before placing it on you. He had felt you shivering for the last hour but every time he went to move and give you his zip-neck jumper, he felt your hand hold him tighter not wishing him to move. 
At some point, you found yourself inside of your home with Peter by your side, switching the kettle on without having to ask which is your favourite mug. 
Peter didn’t say anything. He just let you sit by your kitchen island and stare at your hands for as long as you needed. 
“It all started about two years ago.” you started, without even meaning to. “I, uh, I had been working the night shift. I worked in an emergency vet surgery. Anyway, one night, two guys came in. They said they had a horse outside that was giving birth but they couldn’t deliver the foul. It wasn’t rare that we got cases like this, so I grabbed my bag and rushed outside. But, instead of a horse trailer with a labouring mare, I found myself being carted off to a farm ten miles out of town.”
Peter slid the freshly made tea across to you before sitting down on one of the stools allowing the corner of the island to come between the both of you. 
“I had…”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me everything. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
You gave Peter a small nod, too emotionally exhausted to try and fight. 
You took a breath. “I had…found myself on a farm and all I remembered was getting hit over the head and when I woke up I was strapped into a ticking bomb.”
You recounted everything to Peter, from the moment when you woke up and what was going through your head, to managing to find your medical bag which they hadn’t hid well, if at all. And, how, from that, you had tried your best to get out and stop the bomb from going off whilst it was still attached to you. 
The fact that you had, by some miracle, managed to get away before it went off and blew up the barn was beyond you. But once Barton had found out, he wanted you in Shield. You had most of the medical training and with some training, you could become a major asset within Shield, helping eventually train medics in the organisation - even if you had started out as a Vet. 
It was safe to say Peter was pissed about Abbot's actions. 
Hell, it was even in the handbook and probably within the file that Abbot would have full access to since he was your Team Leader. 
You, under no circumstance, were to be put into a situation like you had been put in just hours earlier until you had clearance from a licensed medical therapist. And, after a few questions, Peter found that you hadn’t. 
Yes, you had clearance to train. You had clearance to practise. But when it came to something you had been so close with facing yourself? No. 
Again, time passed and before you knew it, you had come back around and your wall had slowly started to build back up. 
“I should probably go to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” You tried to assure him. 
Eventually, Peter got up to leave but looking down at your top, you called out to him. 
“Sorry, here’s your top.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.” Peter turned to leave once again but then turned back. “Oh, here…just in case.”
You looked down and found Peter’s card. It contained his name, office address and his phone number. 
“If Abbot tries something like today again…”
“I’ll be sure to call.” you nodded, though Peter feared that what you were saying had no meaning. That you would continue through it, pushing your emotions against your brick wall as hard as you could before you broke again. 
“I mean it, Y/N. He shouldn’t have done that today.”
“I’ll be okay, Peter. I promise.”
AS the door closed behind him, Peter feared that you had made a promise you couldn’t keep, despite how much he knew you would try to.
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loganslowdown4 · 1 year ago
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Logan: I’ve been conducting a study to see what Remus will and will not eat—
Remus: Yeah it was fun!
Logan: Grass, yes. Motor oil, yes. Broom bristles, oh yes. Shoelaces, strange but true. Worms, yes. Rocks, sometimes. Twigs, yes. Roman’s cooking, inconclusive.
Patton: Ookay, how did you test this?
Logan: Just handing him random things and saying ‘eat this’, and usually it worked.
Patton: Well I don’t know how to feel about that but I have something nicer to eat. A cake for Remus’ birthday!
Remus: OOH! Thank ya pop tart!
Roman: Wait, is tHAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT?!
Happy birthday trash rat man 🎂🗑️🐀💚🖤
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dolls-self-ships · 2 years ago
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I think they would be besties
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sharkdenwrites · 1 year ago
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INTRO • RULES
Hey there ! My name is Carden, welcome to my writing blog ! I'm a trans man and my pronouns are he/him. I have autism and get way too indulgent in media
Keep reading for some rules~
ℝ𝕌𝕃𝔼𝕊 𝔸ℕ𝔻 ℝ𝔼𝔾𝕌𝕃𝔸𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊
1. General Rules and Stuff
• Most of my works will have the "T" rating on AO3. Please note that an "M" rating will denote violence and the like, not sexual content.
• If you request smut, please be over 18. I won't say minors dni with my blog entirely but please be conscious of my comfort with interacting with minors
• My masterlist will update whenever possible and will include chapter counts, AO3 links, and other useful info
• I mostly write character/character, and mostly write ships I enjoy, but on occasion I might post something platonic or something besides fanfiction
• I would love to talk with you guys about anything currently listed under "current fixations" and hear theories and other things about my work ! I have anon on for my inbox so feel free to blabber away without judgement <3
2. Requests
• I can do character/reader oneshots, but I'm gonna need pronouns and a plot from you
• When I do prompt lists, please follow the specific guidelines for that particular post
• Please don't flood my inbox asking when your request will be done, I'm a perfectionist and want to make sure I put out the best quality work ! Therefore, it will take time.
• I'll do my best to write characters I'm not as familiar with, but please don't send hate because I make a character OOC. I promise I'm trying !
3. Fandom List
• Bungo Stray Dogs
• Jujutsu Kaisen
• Honkai Star Rail
• Yuri!!! on Ice
• Sasaki and Miyano
• Pokemon X/Y
• Blue Lock
That's all I have for now ! Be sure to check this post every so often to see if anything changes because, let's be real, they'll probably update randomly. I hope you have a good time and I'll see you soon !
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