#this is surprisingly fun to write

[neo30deck]

Okay so this is a fic I'm currently working on. It was birthed from an idea that I came up with in the comments of the work this one was inspired by.

Go check out 'here with me', it's a pretty good fic.

I will be taking a lot of canon material from both the shows and comics, and mash them together to create a plot.

I'm choosing what to keep and what to get rid of basically.

[sabos-husband]

Hi! was hoping for a request (this might get really specific) reader as a strawhat member who grew up with luffy (by extension also ace and sabo) back in foosha village, but actually used to be a slave for the celestial dragons before she arrived there, maybe never told luffy because in her mind, luffy was the epitome of freedom and she was ashamed of her past. The scenario I had in mind for the reveal was maybe in the middle of battle, her clothes gets torn and her mark is seen, maybe some strawhats have an idea of that mark is (maybe jinbei, robin and alike) while others don't (ussop? maybe?), while making the enemies ridicule her and how the strawhats react, but you can choose another scene that you think are more fitting! i just wanted to see how you'd write luffy because i love your writing style! the way you write flows perfectly and it's never out of character, you're my current fav writer on tumblr! so thank you!

★ Around the World

Monkey D. Luffy and Reader ★

Fishman Island Spoilers!! ~ Straw Hat!Reader ~ Feminine Reader (she/her) ~ Hurt/Comfort

a/n: Aww, that's so sweet of you! I appreciate that so much! Specific asks are wonderful, it makes it easier to write something as close as possible to what you want. Thank you for the request <3 I put the majority of this between Fishman Island and Punk Hazard, but there aren't major spoilers. Sorry this took a while!

As well, there's description of the reader's history with slavery and the trauma that came from that. I left it vague for the most part, though.

For so much of your life, Luffy's been a constant. Even when you ran around Gray Terminal with Sabo and Ace, terrorizing all the people you could find for all the money you could grab, Luffy wasn't far behind for most of it. It took the Bluejam Pirates torturing Luffy for hours before his loyalty dawned on the three of you.

It then took Bluejam setting fire to Gray Terminal for you to truly consider Luffy special.

When Sabo took to the sea, swallowed by flame, you held Luffy tight as he wailed. When Ace left for the sea, aided by nothing but a burlap sack on his shoulder and the wind in his sails, Luffy had promised he would follow. When Luffy left for the sea, you were there, standing by his side. His very own first mate, meant to weather the Grand Line by his side.

You hoped with all your heart it'd stay that way. You hoped that it was all he'd know about you—you, his first mate, with nothing else of her past beyond the Grey Terminal's walls and Foosha Village's people.

Of course, nothing you want ever comes so simply.

You can still remember the shrieks of laughter that burst from Luffy as you both clambered into barrels—it made sense that he would wind up into trouble on the sea, but the first day takes the cake!

Your life has been non-stop ever since. From the very moment you both step foot on Shells Town with Koby in tow, the crew grew and grew to numbers that made your pride in Luffy bloom.

Zoro was tough with a sword and reliable when you need him, but his difficulty with directions always made your head spin. Nami was quick with her hands and quicker with her mind, just like how she could never stand to let a Berri slip by. Usopp was sharp as a tack with his constant innovations and steady sharpshooting, even when he ran at ten knots an hour away from danger. Sanji was nothing short of a first-rate chef and one of the strongest men you knew, despite how often he lost himself in the wild pursuit of women.

Then there came the Grand Line. It brought Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbei; thinking about the people Luffy drew to himself never failed to bring a smile to your lips. It's not like you could ever speak against them for their affection towards the captain—it's what brought you away from the safety of Foosha Village as well, skirting past the World Government you hated and feared for all your life.

It's like second nature, how much you love Luffy. Every single one of you would give anything for your captain.

"Anything" changes for you sometimes, though. Late into the night, long after the moon took its place in the sky, you wrestled with the dark. Could you keep this secret from your captain? From Luffy, the person you've known all your life?

(No, you'd remind yourself, not all your life.)

You think of the little boy you grew up alongside with, with a smile so bright you had to shield your eyes. The wind whipping his hair and threatening to carry away his straw hat as he lights up with laughter. You think of how your captain looks at you with the stars in his eyes, declaring that he will be the next King of the Pirates, and you believe him with all your heart.

Even after Ace died, his flames swallowed up in magma, you were there two years later. Luffy had gone through hell and back with you—couldn't that be enough?

It was thoughts like those that kept your secrets to yourself.

It was some foolish, childish part of you that thought you could have kept it up forever.

~

The day was as usual. It was nice, even. You had just finished helping Sanji with the groceries—to his chagrin, of course.

As much as he adores your company, he detests making such a sweet lady do manual labor for him, and he lets you know. Often. It was charming for the first while, but by the time you help Sanji put away the groceries, you're just glad it's over with.

The snack he rewards you after with, though, makes you sure that you'll help him next time. After he waves you off to begin lunch prep, you're quick to escape back to the docks.

You have some time to kill, you think. It's the last stretch until the log pose is finished setting and you've sort of lost track of the group... Thinking back, Zoro and Usopp got tied together, so you don't have to worry about searching for the poor swordsman. Nami stole Chopper to carry the clothes she was planning to get with Robin, while Brook and Franky were the ones assigned to watch the ship. That just leaves you with... Oh, seas.

There's a burst of screams that tear through the town's square, punctuated by a shriek of excited, almost maniacal laughter.

You're missing Luffy.

You're off like a shot towards the commotion before you can even think, weaving and pushing your way past the people. The crowd thickens as civilians shove past you. It's like swimming up river, but with every step you take, that familiar laughter gets closer.

When you finally burst from the mob, your feet catch on an unconscious marine. You stumble forward.

It's like breaking through a shield into a bubble—a ring of civilians gather to enclose Luffy as he's circled by marines, too duty-bound to flee but too cautious to fight.

Your captain hasn't put nearly as much thought into his approach. He barrels fists-first into the nearest hoard; the soldiers go flying like playing cards against a cannon. Sure it's charming, but he was supposed to be on board the Sunny, like, a hour ago.

So, Luffy deciding to gather the marines?

It sure isn't ideal.

Gathering your courage and tossing aside your exhaustion, you steel your nerves to storm the castle and extract your captain. And speak of the devil; Luffy whips his head around to stare at you.

"Oh! Hey!!" Luffy yells, with just a bit of manic glee. Great. You step forward—

—And a marine steps in your way. Really great.

As you fall into your fighting stance, you watch your captain dart from view. Well, whatever. You'll find him after you kick this guy's ass.

The marine wielded an odd weapon, like brass knuckles with claws soldered onto the palm. He hadn't bothered to clean the last victim's blood from it, and if the rust near the joints were to tell you anything, it was clear that he neglected to clean the blood of anyone from the weapon.

It feels like a warning.

It feels like a trophy.

Your captain rockets past him without a second thought (it's unlikely there was ever a first thought) to explode into another group of soldiers. It's like dynamite dropped in a haystack, the way navy officers go flying here and there.

The marine's eyes fall on you.

You can barely remember the fight afterwards, shamefully. You remember how it starts though.

He lunges at you with the speed of an animal, his clawed hands outstretched to sink into your flesh.

You dodge, he pivots, you aim to strike before he finds his footing—every move you make is to drive you closer to Luffy so you can cut and run.

Your mindlessness makes you sloppy. You don't even notice the way you're babying your secret, cradling it away from the fight. Of course that fucking marine notices.

Seas, you don't even know this marine's name, and yet he could still read you like a fucking book.

It's your last mistake.

When he slips to the side, too close for comfort, you jump back. His hand raises to tear out your eyes.

You raise your arms to guard, falling for the feint—the marine weaves past you, bearing his claws, and digs into your flesh.

It's over before you can even feel the pain.

You barely hold back a yell as you leap back, clutching your body. Warm blood trickles down the strike until it stained your clothes, sending panic shooting up your spine.

Like a curse from whatever gods left, that damn marine had struck you where you were weakest. There wasn't any time—by the time you whip around to clutch the wound, to hide your shame, it was too late.

"That pirate! She's... branded!"

A chorus of gasps tear through the crowd like a terrible symphony. You cling to the ribbons of your ruined attire like it could still save you.

Shadows claw at your vision as you struggle to breathe. Warm blood trickles down your limbs and your mark aches with a fresh, searing pain—it's grown with you, stretching over your skin in a reminder you can only try to forget.

You hear Robin gasp like she was struck herself. Oh seas, when did she arrive? You want to tuck yourself into a ball and hide from the prying eyes boring into your skin. You're sure she understands, if only because she shares your terror of who gave you this cross to bear, but it scares you. Somewhere, Usopp murmurs to her, "what is that?"

They know. They know.

The marine barks out in a fit of laughter, teeth bared and fingers curled around his claws. "What the hell is Straw Hat doing with government property?"

You think of Foosha Village, dodging your family and bathing in the river at night. You think of the clothes you had to give Makino back, too ridden by fear to wear them.

You think of your crew, sleeping soundly while you were working up the nerve to change your clothes in the dark. You think of Nami, with her skin graft and her new tattoo and the jealousy so strong you choke on it every time you see it. You think of how no one knows what was before that pinwheel tattoo except for the people she wants to know.

You think of your captain. You think of Luffy.

Oh seas, Luffy.

Tears cloud your eyes as you struggle to breathe. When you turn to your captain, you can barely see him—your vision swims, revealing splotches of color you'd recognize anywhere.

His haki rolls off in waves, so suffocating you can taste his rage on the back of your tongue. You see soldiers buckle and civilians collapse.

Your words escape before you can even think.

"Luffy, help...!"

A fist rockets past you. The sound of crunching bone hits you as air whips your cheeks. A mangled yell of pain is the last thing you hear from the marine.

"She doesn't," your captain growls, "belong to anybody."

~

You're brought into the medbay as soon as the Sunny left the docks. The silence is suffocating. You could barely look at Chopper as you shed your clothes, letting it slip until your shame was bare.

If you could guess, you'd bet it was nothing but professional courtesy that's keeping Chopper from reacting. That fucking mark takes up almost the entirety of the flesh, like a wound that can never heal.

The young doctor is kind when he cleans the blood. His touch hovers above your laceration when you hiss and tense. He's patient too, only continuing his work when you allow him to.

You hate this. Seas, you fucking hate this. You slump forward when Chopper continues his work.

You both pretend to not notice the tears that fall.

When he backs away, wound cleaned and bandaged, you don't turn to look him in the eye. You just turn your head and nod at Chopper.

The doctor straightens up like he always does after he works, but there's a new nervousness to him. His hooves are pressed together, like he's trying to quell the shaking. It makes you grit your teeth.

"The wound isn't bad," he says quickly, "but you'll need to rest. As for t-the rest, I couldn't..."

You nod. "Thanks, Chopper. You don't have to worry about... that. You're the best."

You watch the tension evaporate as he grins at you, leaning side to side. "That doesn't make me happy, you bastard!" He giggles, spinning. He sways a bit longer before he tamps it down, clearing his throat.

"But," he says clearly, "you can talk about it—"

"—Chopper—" you try to say.

"—Listen! It's important!" Chopper stands straighter like it'll give him the confidence his next words demand. "I-If you don't want to talk about it to me, it's okay. But... you should talk to someone. Nami, or Robin, or maybe- maybe if we call Jinbei, he would understand—"

"Chopper," you cut through. It hurts your heart to see the young doctor wilt. "It's okay. Thank you, but I'm alright."

"Okay... But- consider it? Please?"

You look away. "I will," you murmur.

Even though you don't see his face, you know Chopper knows you're lying. You know he won't push you farther, though. He hops down off his stool, shucks off his doctor's coat, and offers you the spare clothes Nami had lent you. She was kind enough to waive the fee this time too. You can't find it in you to appreciate it.

Chopper turns away as you get dressed again, which makes you smile. It makes you feel like you have some control again.

(You can't help but study your bandages. They're wrapped snug around you, but the edges of the brand sticks out like a hand print seared into your skin. You can still see the three pointed claws under the stark white of gauze.

It's the first time in a while you've really observed it. Every other time you forced yourself to look, all you could see was the red-hot brand and the wicked smiles of the demons who held it.

It's just as ugly as you remember.

You wish you had killed that marine, even if it wouldn't have changed anything.)

When you finish getting dressed, you signal to Chopper. He turns around, offers you a smile too bittersweet for someone of his youth, and reaches for the door.

"Oh, Luffy," Chopper comments idly. You can't stop how you flinch at the sound of his name.

You were dreading seeing him. It makes you want to cry again; how long has it been since you've dreaded being near Luffy?

The ringing in your ears swallow up the gentle words Chopper offers. Your bandages crush your ribs as you try to breathe—there isn't enough air, like that fucking marine took it all when he- when he—

The hands on your face smell like sun-warmed rubber. It's hard to say they're cradling your face, when Luffy just smacked his palms against your cheeks and squished them together until you were looking at him. When you blink, he blinks back at you.

"Are you there?" Luffy asks simply.

"Um, y-yes Captain," you force out. He nods thoughtfully.

Though, Captain isn't the right moniker. You aren't talking to isn't Captain Monkey D. Luffy, world-renowned Worst Generation pirate, capable of toppling kingdoms and challenging the World Government, feared by the powerful and adored by the powerless.

No, the boy in front of you is simply Luffy. The Luffy you've cherished since you were small, with a smile so bright and a heart so full—for all your life, you've never known how you got so lucky to have him.

Luffy pushes you to sit before he flops down next to you, bobbing with the mattress springing under his weight. You avoid his eye.

"You have something," Luffy states simply. It isn't a question, nor an accusation. It makes you flinch regardless—through all your tears, you can barely see the way your hands ball into fists in your lap.

He waits until you can find your words once again. It's kinder than you deserve.

"D-Do you- want to see it?"

"I don't care." Luffy just sort of... tilts his head at you. "I want to see you."

It's such a simple sentiment. It makes you feel like you've swallowed a thousand blades.

"I'm-... I didn't- I'm sorry, Luffy," you force out. The nails you dig into the stark white gauze don't put any pressure into the skin below it. Luffy frowns anyways.

"You can't apologize," he states simply. "You don't have to."

"But I- I lied—"

"It's okay." Luffy kicks his feet out. "I know you. I don't care about the rest."

All your words slip from your mind. If Luffy minds the silence, he doesn't show it.

Shame floods your chest. All these years hiding your past, unraveled just like that. You stare at your lap.

"They," you admit softly, "had me for so long. I- I never thought I'd be free."

He doesn't respond. You don't need him to—the words rush out before you can think. You stare into your open hands.

"W-When I escaped, I promised myself something. I said, they'll never control me ever again. But- I just... I've always been so scared! It's like- It's like I never even left—"

"Sabo is dead," Luffy says suddenly. "Ace is dead."

When Luffy looks forward, it isn't at Chopper's desk. It isn't at the medicine scattered along its surface, nor is it the kit the doctor had used to patch up your wounds. No—Luffy's gaze pierces farther, looking past the desk and the ship and the sea.

When Luffy looks forward, it's into the fire he left behind.

"But you aren't. You escaped. You're here with me."

Even without words, you understand. You can see the fire, too. "I am."

"You're not theirs anymore. You're mine," Luffy says just as suddenly, "but you aren't mine."

You don't respond. You wouldn't know how even if you tried.

Luffy turns to you with the same inferno that swallowed up your shared home. "You're my crew. You're my first mate. But I don't own you. No one does. That brand doesn't mean anything."

Before you can gather your thoughts, you feel Luffy's hand press his straw hat into your lap. It feels as warm as the sun he had been standing in just moments before. Luffy grabs at your hands to wrap them around its brim.

"You don't belong to anybody."

You could cry.

Luffy shakes your shared hold. "Say it."

"I-I..." You sniffle, "I don't..."

Luffy's eyes don't look away from you. They aren't mean, nor are they worried—they're fierce, just as sure of your power as they were the day he met you.

"I don't," you say finally, "belong to anybody."

When you collapse into his arms, shaking with every sob that wracks through your body, there is no shame when his hands brush over your mark. All you feel is warmth as he pulls you tighter.

You're not property. You're free.

You're a pirate—and no one is freer than a pirate.

[casterisks]

I wanted to get together some characterization + references for my semi cured au (This is the best drawing of the batch imo ^^^)

A lot of it is pretty varied and I had fun making it! Some of this also just serves as Infected headcanons- i don't think if he was "cured" it'd be a full shot cure. That shit's deadass embedded into his psyche (and bloodstream) LMAOOO

[rainbowlack]

[hybridshadowz]

been tryin to sketch my dear boi Casper. think im getting the hang of drawin his pretty lil face~ (´∀｀)♡

[edgeray]

Arlecchino is a cold person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

It's no suprise to anyone. It is simply an objective fact of the matter. She is aware of this. The House of the Hearth is aware of this. The Fatui are aware of this. It's ironic given the nature of her vision, but it nonetheless rings true despite the fire she possesses on her blackened fingertips. She is callous and curt, and underneath her skin there is nothing except frigid ice that envelopes her being like a fitted coat. She speaks with no warmth, acts with the absence of heat, exists in a constant state of cold emptiness--a state in which there is a void inside of her, as if sucking all that is human of her.

Years ago, when she was just a child of the same orphanage she headed, she had naive thoughts of finding companionship, someone who would provide the warmth she sought on lonesome nights. She was barely just an adolescent who dreamed of lying in someone's arms, feel the heartbeat of another so surely, it would remind her that she was indeed alive. For even the briefest of moments, she yearned for someone who would, if not shield, then distract her from the cruelties of this world. She had shed those foolish wishes aside. In the House of the Heart that she was raised in, such notions were admonished, in fact, the wishful thinking was one of the reasons she had nearly lost her life. Never again, she had promised to herself, when she mercilessly beat the backstabber. It was then that she believed when the time came, her tale would end the same way as it began for her: alone. As the years of being a Fatui, then becoming a Fatui Harbinger, hardened her, there was comfort in that view.

That is what she believed in. Until you came.

Iciness wraps her being. It is present in her expression, in her words, in her touch. But that is exactly why she finds solace in your being. Her vision could only grant her a synthetic flame, but, you, you're an everlasting hearth. She melts in your embrace every time she slots herself in your arms, as it feels like a kindling ignited in her heart. It is only with you, that she learns how warmth can be found in.

Arlecchino is a cold person.

It is why you, as a warm one, is perfect for her. You whisk away the most depraved thoughts, ease her of any emotional and mental turmoil, and you do not treat her with the same coldness as the world seems so fond of doing to her. You are her flame, the one that sparks her being and reminds her that she is alive because her heart beats with you, beats for you.

Except you are cold now. It is unfathomable to her how you can be this way when your entire being exists to warm her, but when she touches your skin, you are unbearably frozen. Your body does not tremble like it does when her clawed fingers ever so gently trace your skin. The corner of your lips doesn't quirk up into the usual small smile of yours when she appears in your sight, but they remain ever rigid like the rest of you. Uncharacteristically, your expression doesn't soften with her presence.

You are cold, just like her. And that makes her afraid. Her hand searches for it, prodding your skin for a familiar thumping that is nowhere to be found. You continue to stare at her, unblinking. Here would be the moment where you give her a beaming smirk and you'd cup her face tenderly as if she was glass. And she would let you, because you are her beloved, who has watched her shatter so many times before and wordlessly each shard back together, and it is for that reason that she would lean closer towards your touch.

Because you lie broken in her arms and her hands are stained again with the familiar color of red. Your eyes are glossy and gaze unblinkingly at her. Frozen. Even when you are covered in your blood, you are beautiful, she notes, but oh, so cold that it makes her doubt if you were warm to begin with.

She misses your warmth. Where has it gone? Or has it died along with you?

Her hearth is gone. And as she clings onto your form, her body wracking with a fear and desperation she's never known before, two revelations come to her: that there is no such thing as an everlasting fire, and even after so many years ago, she was right along.

Arlecchino is a cold person. And she will remain always cold.

[bekolxeram]

Human remains as props — the Billy Boils of old horror movies

In this week's Halloween themed 9-1-1 episode, Buck rented a mummy replica from a Hollywood prop shop which turned out to be a real human body. This set off a series of misfortunate events for the firefighter, that might or might not be the result of a curse. Once again, the writers have surpassed themselves in terms of over-the-top silliness that has become the trademark of our beloved weewoo show. There's no way someone can accidentally get their hands on a real corpse... right?

Oh, you'll be surprised. You too may have seen a real cadaver or two on the silver screen.

The Economics of prop dead bodies

Using real human remains as movie props was such a common practice back in the days that prop masters working on the 1979 Vietnam war epic Apocalypse Now were totally unfazed when body broker (later revealed to be a grave robber) brought several dead bodies to the set. The plan to use those bodies as props for maximum authenticity was only scrapped after a producer ruled against it.

Source: The Independent

Interestingly, films that ended up actually featuring real bodies were the low-budget, fake looking ones. In the age before 3D printing, creating a set of realistic human skeleton was a very labor intensive process. That combining with the cost of the material used, the price of a plastic replica was in fact more expensive than a real skeleton.

A special effect make-up artist who worked on the 1982 Spielberg classic Poltergeist explained the film's decision to use actual human remains on a podcast:

Source: Snopes

Eerily, two young actresses who worked on the Poltergeist trilogy passed away unexpectedly shortly afterwards, leading to the urban legend of a curse on set.

The story of Elmer J. McCurdy

In late 1976, the production crew of the TV show The Six Million Dollar Man was filming scenes at the Pike, a then amusement zone in Long Beach, California. While shooting a scene at a thrill ride, a member of the prop department spotted a wax mannequin covered in fluorescent paint dangling from a noose. Worrying it would get in the way of the camera, they gave the dummy's arm a tug in an attempt to remove it, but instead of the whole thing coming off, only the arm broke off, exposing a human bone and muscle tissues.

A penny from 1924 and ticket stubs to the "Museum of Crime" were found in the body's mouth. Investigators contacted the museum owner's son, who identified the body as Elmer McCurdy, an outlaw killed in 1911 in the middle of a shootout with police following a botched train robbery in Oklahoma.

Unlike the fictional McCurdy in 8x05, the real McCurdy was a simple petty criminal looking for some extra cash to support his alcohol habit. Utilizing the skills he learned from the army, his robbery method of choice was explosives, but he was very terrible at it.

Source: KCRW

His body was subsequently taken to a funeral home, where he laid unclaimed for the rest of his stay. The undertaker embalmed the body, shaved his face, dressed him in a suit, but refused bury him until someone come forward to claim it and pay for the service. As time went by, the owner of the funeral home decided to dress the body as a gunslinging cowboy and allow visitors to see "the Bandit Who Wouldn't Give Up" for the price of a nickel, in order to fund his burial.

5 years later, two men claiming to be McCurdy's long lost brothers came forward to take custody of the body for a proper burial. End of the story, right? Well, of course they were travelling carnival owners lying to acquire the body for their shows. In 1922, the body was sold to yet another travelling exhibit called "Museum of Crime", which featured wax figures of other famous outlaws in history.

For the next 3 decades, McCurdy's body travelled all around the country as an attraction. He even had a brief film career. He was once used to promote the 1933 film Narcotic!, then he had a small cameo in the 1967 B-movie She Freak. In 1968, the Museum of Crime owner's son decided to sell his father's exhibits to the Hollywood Wax Museum. There, McCurdy's body started getting mixed up with other wax figure, and his origin story long forgotten.

Following over half a century of voyage, McCurdy eventually became fully mummified. The wax museum believed that the body was too gruesome and unlifelike to be showcased anymore, so he was finally sold to The Pike, an amusement zone in Long Beach, where he began his new life as a thrill ride decoration dummy.

After the shocking revelation by TV crew in 1976, McCurdy was transported back to Oklahoma, where he took his last breath 66 years ago, and finally laid to rest after a graveside service attended by 300 people. (Under 2 feet of concrete, to prevent grave robbing)

Source: Atlas Obscura

[star--anon]

Minho, who moved into Gally's childhood house

unknowingly also moving into an active War Zone™

it's Gally VS Thomas

they're both ghosts

they're fighting over who gets to haunt the place

both of them have attached themselves to the house already and are trying to convince the other to un-attach themselves

attaching oneself to a place is a simple procedure

In fact, it's so simple it can happen on accident for a lot of ghosts

like Thomas, who thought the house was cute and spent so long there that he just woke up attached one day

meanwhile, Gally grew up in the house as a living human and has haunted the place for three years

So he's not about to let some silly accidental ghost take it away from him

any number of ghosts can be attached to a property, but traditionally, only one ghost haunts it

the others just kind of... meander

most ghosts lose interest in staying connected to the physical world

and enjoy floating mindlessly in some forgotten corner of an establishment, wandering in their waking dreams

but Thomas and Gally aren't those kinds of ghosts

Minho isn't even aware of the fight between the two at first

Thomas and Gally don't really pay attention to Minho either

He's not really a "human being with feelings"

he's just another part of the house

that the haunting ghost gets the right to mess with

until Minho starts tearing down the old wallpaper, renovating the showers, replacing the mirrors, etc.

the two ghosts quickly set their rivalry aside to drive away the parasite that's demolishing their precious haunting place

they start off small

Minho can't find his keys, his TV remote is always missing, why is his toothbrush in the toilet, where did all the windows go, was this area of the house always this dark, why is it so cold, why are his blankets trying to strangle him

(okay Gally went too far with that one)

Step 2: ants start stealing his food, faces appear behind Minho in the mirror, rats drown themselves in his morning coffee, the doors open and close loudly at night, the basement stairs try to chew off Minho's feet

(okay Gally went too far again)

before they can get to Step 3, Minho catches on

he guessed that there was a ghost in the house at Step 1

Step 2 made him realize the ghost might be more malicious than he thought

he starts tossing food into the campfire as offerings for whatever spirit is messing with him

a ghost is kind of like a vampire. They need permission to do certain things

such as eating physical food

Thomas, who died last week and is unused to no longer being able to eat, eagerly accepts whatever Minho throws out of the flames

he stops messing with Minho

Minho notices the decline in ghostly antics and increases the food offerings

Gally is offended that Thomas is so easily swayed

"This is why you would've never made a good haunting ghost"

"Okay but you haven't tasted his pasta. He makes really good pasta."

as respectful and knowledgeable as Minho is, he's wrong on one thing: He thinks there's only one ghost

He buys a larger bed and another pillow, inviting the ghost (just one) to sleep. He puts out a second toothbrush (just one). He makes a second dinner (just one) and buys a second kitchen chair (just one)

for all his kindness, Minho only ever invites one ghost

so of course, Thomas and Gally fight over who gets to be Minho's ghost

(at some point you have to wonder if maybe they just like fighting)

"Just haunt the house. You love this house. You've haunted it for three years or something."

"You're just saying that because you want to haunt Minho"

"You want to haunt Minho too!"

"He's in my house! He's mine!"

"I literally died last week! I deserve some sympathy! I'm vulnerable and sad right now! You have no sympathy!!"

"You can get the pasta that he throws into the fire"

they draw hearts in the mirror (Thomas erases Gally's)

they helpfully write grocery lists for him (Gally tears up Thomas')

they drive away pests from his garden (both try to take credit for what's technically a team effort)

Thomas coaxes a stray cat into the house and is heartbroken when Minho tosses the cat back outside, not knowing it's a gift

Gally offers his old childhood toys (memories are the most precious thing a ghost can give) by putting them on Minho's bed and then sulks when Minho doesn't touch them

(he's afraid of angering whatever put them there by messing up the toys)

Thomas irons out Minho's clothes

Gally steals clothes from random passerby's and gifts them to Minho

(definitely Gally going too far again)

(Minho is frazzled by the increase of naked people outside his house)

they TOTALLY fall in love with him during the process

this is important and 100% normal

they start worrying when Minho takes too long to come home from work

Gally and Thomas even detach themselves from their beloved house to go looking for Minho

(who fell asleep at work 'cause his boss overworked him)

(picture that scene from Ratatouille)

Gally drapes a blanket over Minho's exhausted body while Thomas angrily goes to find his boss

he spends the rest of the night terrorizing him

(Gally is impressed by Thomas' ferocity. He doesn't tell him that, of course)

Minho is losing his mind

because he is the receiver (the victim, really) of a ghost's affection

unbeknownst to him, he is in fact the victim of TWO ghosts' affection

and how is he supposed to maintain his reputation as a normal person... if he's starting to feel affection for a ghost

it ends with all three of them kissing btw

[illarian-rambling]

Gonna be a shit day at work today, so if y'all would like to reblog this with something sweet that happens in your stories or a fun fact about your ocs, that'd just make my day <3

[box-dwelling]

Imagine if Astarion made one joke about virgin blood while he and Wyll are still courting and wyll gets a weird thing in his head that he's going to want to stop feeding on him as much after they have sex. Which shouldn't be a problem, he can just get live animals but also, you know the monster fucker in him is very much into that and he'd be very upset to lose it.

Then when it finally gets raised astarion basically recites the wwdits "imagine if you had a sandwich, you'd feel much better if someone hadn't fucked it" bit but then adds on "but if you fucked it then it's just kinky"

[miss0atae]

BL Fashion in The Heart Killers (EP 1 - 3): Bison’s fashion style.

Kant's fashion style: Here

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

me: okay i’m gonna sit down to work on my omegaverse fic bc i can’t stop thinking about it

me: buys a book about writing fiction

(a few days later)

me: okay i’m gonna sit down to work on my omegaverse fic bc i can’t stop thinking about it

me: buys a book about writing fiction

…i have like 5 new books about writing fiction and no progress made on my fic. pls. it’s just fanfiction it’s okay if it’s bad

[aldisobey]

🕳️ WIP Wednesday (on Thurs) 🕳️

edit: full release on AO3

Tagged by @heylittleriotact

WELL this one was supposed to be released by now but I have had the absolute delight of needing to write confronting truths to the worst sorts of people. Menace is a way of life. I bring you this. I don’t know what to title it. Weeping Lizards? Sodden Hole? Muddy Salt? Help. I blame @emmg for its creation this is your fault. We’re in Hossberg and Emmrich is crying over a muddy hole that reminds him of Worne (Rook).

———-——-

“Now, please, I have to see to Emmrich, shoo. Everyone’s off.” Rook motioned it with a flick of his hands this time; well aware he might have better luck physically urging the ground below to trot on before budging the Qunari. Thankfully Taash needed no further encouragement and long strides were soon taking them past Emmrich. They paused at a shout from behind.

Rook, calling like a concerned parent, “And get something nice for Lace first!” Taash waved back, looked over their shoulder, regretted that once the Warden started mouthing further instructions, what was he saying? “Floooowers.” And he was pointing at himself, and at Emmrich and. Taash rolled their eyes. Took a moment to turn and mouth back an exaggerated but silent, “Nooooo.”

Rook flipped them off, they sent two back. Rook’s eyes went wide, and he pointed a stiff finger at them. Taash groaned and rolled their head full round. Mouthed a “Fiiiiine.” And finally disappeared down the path back to Lavendell.

The Warden quickened his step. Emmrich hadn’t moved in the time it took to send Taash away for errands. The mage remained locked in place, red and wet faced, staring long at a muddy hole.

Rook didn’t question it, did his best to not startle him, that hazel gaze was far, far away. “Emmrich.”The hushed tone was followed by a soft touch. Fingers entered at waist, trailed up the spine until they went up to hold that opposite shoulder steady, gave a firm grip, a gentle pull towards the rogue. The necromancer was trembling, Rook eased into a shape that fit close, that first touch a needle of first stitch, and like thread he pulled them flush together.

Emmrich didn’t startle, seemed to expect him, subtle movements meeting Rook as he settled into the Warden’s hands finding their way to their places. Still, he kept a bit tense, hands tight together in front. White knuckled as he spoke sniffing,

“Rook. Darling, it’s…look, I…” and then Emmrich laughed, piercingly loud, a wincing crack that made Rook flinch to a confused smile. But the noise was manic prelude, and it was swallowed in the sob that drove it free. The mage’s eyes welled, wet trails provided easy paths for fresh tears as flood resumed. He turned his head down and into Rook, lips quivering to recall words. Shine on his face wrenching the rogue’s gut, Rook listened, attentive as possible, but the necromancer’s trembling smile stretched the sounds.

Emmrich’s hands unclenched from each other and dove round Rook in a desperate clinging embrace. The Warden answered with whispered soft ‘shhhh’s’ and diligently caressed the tall man’s back. They held there for long moments, Rook bearing their weight as the quivering necromancer eased into fewer wails and more whimpers.

Blubbering, mumbling, further shuddering chuckles, but eventually, helped by Rook’s firm embrace, calming touch, and steady pace of lungs, the breaths came even enough for thoughts. Emmrich squeaked out, “...it reminded me of you.”

He gestured towards the filthy hole. And then a lizard popped its head out. Mud obscured its sight, some kind of weed stuck to its chin, and its big dumb face was wide, letting nary a thought bother its whim. Emmrich snorted. Then started weeping again.

—————

tagging: @caffeinatedmunchkin @thepalehorsevictoria @ollypopwrites (look I know you’ve likely been tagged but this is me saying tag me on all your writing updates because imma miss it if you don’t I’m staying away from this place as much as possible to write. Sincerely haha I’ll catch up on commenting when I caaaaan because holy shit all the writing is so good. I’m forgetting people TAG ME I need to post or imma edit the whole thing again.)

[bug-hearted]

Agnus Dei: 1 - Decano

“Well, Dean,” called Bazzi. Crowley looked up at him, watching as he exhaled another generous puff of smoke. That must have been the same smoke people saw come out of the chimney—only, this plume had been grey. Would they have rejoiced, Crowley wondered, or wept with grief?

Penance, he had called the feeling in his head earlier. He wasn’t so sure now. “The responsibility for the conclave falls upon you.”

or,

After The Holy Father's passing, it falls on Cardinal Crowley, Dean of the College of Cardinals, to take hold of one of the most elusive events in the world—the conclave. Surrounded by powerful religious leaders in the halls of the Vatican, he finds that, perhaps power falls in the hands of those who have spent their lives running away from it. That is, until the arrival of a cardinal made in pectore that throws everything off course.

(Drumroll plays) The Conclave Omens AU is here!

After a few days of speedrunning 15k+ worth of chapters, I'll be speedrunning even more in the coming week. Some art may very well be on its way, too...

[amethystina]

Pole Dancing

Fandom/Pairing: X-Men: First Class - Cherik

Length: ~ 5 000 words

Rating/Warnings: T / None

Additional Tags: No Powers, Modern AU, Flirting, Pining, Meet-Cute

Summary: If anyone had told Charles a week ago that he would find himself taking pole dancing lessons, he would have called them mad.

It's not his choice, of course — it's Raven's, selected as punishment for a lost bet — but that doesn't change just how mortifying the whole ordeal is. Charles is under no illusions as to his own physical prowess — or lack thereof — and knows that there is no way for him to emerge from that class with his dignity intact. But no amount of protests or wheedling can make Raven change her mind.

What's worse, she insists on telling the very handsome stranger that Charles bumps into in the gym lobby about it, too. As if Charles isn't mortified enough.

But, to Charles's surprise, the man seems more amused than judgemental. Maybe even a little intrigued.

Charles can definitely work with that. GO HERE TO READ

[derangedanomaly]

How would the boys react to a reader who's low key stalking them, They never do anything to them, they're just always nearby

THE BOYS REACTION TO A STALKER READER

NIGHTMARE:

He's gonna feel somewhat flattered

You mean you're spending your time following him around?

As you should. He's your king 🙄✋

Nightmare would probably get SO quickly annoyed though 💀

Long story short-

You're dead by the end of this.

CHAOS:

CHAOS WOULD FREAK OUT SO BADLY 😭

He literally doesn't know how to deal with this

So he does the first thing that came to his mind-

He's gonna approach you, and talk with you about your.... stalking. 💀

Good luck lol

ACE:

He dipped.

BLADE:

He's gonna immediately assume you're in love with him-

Yeah- now you're stalking each other.

It's a weird situation tbh. 💀

You're gonna have to talk to him to somehow resolve it.

TED:

Ted would know about you. Instantly.

He knows you like to watch him when he's taking care of the little ducks he found all alone, injured in the rain :(

He knows you like to watch while he's chopping the wood. Trust me- he knows.

But he doesn't do anything about it. I mean- you're not posing a danger- so for now... he's just gonna let you be.