#(i love two idiot best friends)

[robot-carl]

I want what they have. Where can I find my platonic soulmate.

Also the 2023 specials have reawaken my doctor who hyperfixation from 2011 and I’m perfectly fine with that.

[sequentialprophet]

LET'S WIN THE BIG ONE, BOYS

[killerfrostisme]

THIS IS SO LOCKLYLE CODED!!!!!!!

[tunatunatunas]

There was a man at the bar that wouldn’t shut up, babbling about something or another.

When the Emperor of the Sea: Red Haired Shanks entered, everyone thought the world would be down by one clown.

Except that’s not really how it went…

Read it here!

[murdleandmarot]

AYYYYYY STARLIGHT EXPRESS OC TIME!!!!!!

Meet Mable and Marley, the abandoned train car twins!! They live with Belle and Poppa in the freight yard :)))

More about them under the cut!!

….so I don’t know trains. I know net zero about trains. I knew I wanted to do something vague and fun with them, so I just looked up “place I live” + “abandoned train” and found a blog from a couple years ago about an abandoned train someone found in the woods!!!!

That’s why their names don’t match their title, no one knows what their original make or model was.

-Mable is definitely the more serious twin of the two, as she really wants to get back on the tracks. She hates not knowing much about herself, but has resolved herself to be the best that she can despite this

-Marley is definitely more easygoing, more cheerful, and overall more content to chill in the freight yard with Belle. He’s made peace with his mysteriousness.

-Both of them barely leave the yard, because when they do train (HA) they do it closer to home, so they get their gossip from Rusty. Marley is probably a bitttt of a Greaseball fanboy at heart, and Mable thinks she could beat GB in a race and vows to do so whenever he’s brought up

[walkman-cat]

kinda gay to be a detective etc. etc. you know how it is

[crimeronan]

there's ALSO hilarity potential in the princess luz AU w amity being like "okay. so he's your cousin on a technicality but like barely acts like your cousin and is basically your brother but you don't call him your brother and you guys are a lot weirder and clingier than i've ever been with my siblings but you're also definitely not lovers so what..... what DO you call him" and luz being like "he's just hunter :) he's my special little guy :)" while hunter, who's been listening to and watching this entire exchange bc he's around luz All The Fucking Time, is like [inb4 amity can say it herself] "i'm her pet dog. woof."

[brutal-nemesis]

Goretober III: Hematemesis (Written By Nemesis)

This one funny to me haha Castys so miserable he super loves the @coyotehusk goretober

←Previous - Castys Masterlist - Goretober Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: chocolate, emeto (blood!), poison, gore, noncon touching that is a little bit more intimate than normal but still unsexy

Today’s restraint of choice was a metal collar around his neck that was chained to the floor, and Castys wasn’t really a fan. Sure, it gave him more freedom of movement than the table or dangling on a hook, but it didn’t really matter when Kuro could pin all of his limbs down and still have her hands free, which was super unfair. And the chain attached to his collar was long enough to allow him to sit up, but he couldn’t stand at all, which he supposed was better than being forced to stand and not able to sit, but still. 

Right now, though, Kuro was sitting across from him, holding out what appeared to be a piece of chocolate. “Here, Castys. You deserve a little treat for being a good boy so far.”

“You know I’m, like, way older than you, right?”

“You’d be surprised,” she laughed. And hey, maybe she was pretty old, too, considering that he didn’t even know what exactly she even was.

He kind of wanted to refuse the chocolate on principle, but he was also not one to turn down a little treat, especially if it was candy. Warily, he took it, watching Kuro as he put it in his mouth, but she just watched him right back, unreadable as ever. The chocolate was good, and it’d been a long time since he’d had something sweet, or any food at all, really, so he tried to savor it, but the longer he kept it in his mouth, the more he started to taste something…odd.

He was a fucking idiot this wasn’t just chocolate of course it was laced with something-But as soon as he tried to spit it out, Kuro pounced on him, pinning his wrists next to his head, her hand covering his mouth. “Swallow, Castys. You deserve it, remember?” Castys tried to squirm free and spit what was left of the chocolate in her face, but Kuro didn’t budge, so he was forced to chew the rest of the chocolate and swallow, since it would just melt in his mouth if he kept it there. “There you go,” Kuro said, stroking his face and causing him to flinch, which of course just made her laugh. It was always so funny to everyone how much Castys hated being touched!

Finally, she got off of him, allowing Castys to sit up and scoot as far away from her as his short chain would allow. “What the fuck was in that?”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Castys sighed in annoyance and crossed his arms, waiting for whatever stupid drug or poison she’d fed him to take effect. He felt fine at the moment, maybe a little chest pain, but…okay, it was starting to get worse. As time went on, the pain only got sharper, and he started to get nauseous, which wasn’t really unexpected but still not fun. 

Soon enough he really, really had to puke, but Kuro was still sitting there, just staring at him, and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. However, his stomach didn’t give a shit about Kuro, forcing him to lurch forward on his hands and knees and vomit. It sounded more…solid than he was expecting, like there were little bits of something in it, but it was hard to tell by looking at the dark puddle between his hands.

Having a Suspicion, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and…yep, that was blood. “What’d you do to me?” he groaned, feeling even worse now that he’d thrown up, like the worst heartburn ever combined with an awful stomachache.

“It’s a special poison that sort of…destroys your stomach lining,” Kuro said lightly. “So your stomach acid is digesting you from the inside right now. I want to see if it’ll get fixed when you die.”

“It won’t.” Castys gave up and laid down on the cold stone floor, already feeling nauseous again. Well, this sucked ass. The acid was gonna eat through him no matter how many times he died until it…ran out? Did acid run out? Probably. Didn’t matter right now, he was gonna puke again, and he was barely able to get upright before even more blood spewed out of his mouth, splattering all over his arms and hands. 

Kuro laughed and picked up a little red chunk of something. “Ooh, I think this is part of your stomach. Looks like little pieces of you are coming up now instead of just blood clots.” Castys didn’t have the energy to reply, just lying curled up on his side as he coughed blood out of his nose and mouth, waiting for the next delivery of corroded bits from inside himself as the world spun out of focus.

He could hardly tell when he’d died or come back to life, the pain never really went away despite him having a stomach lining again since the rogue acid was no longer in his stomach. At some point Kuro tackled him so she could wrench his shirt up and look at the fun shade of purple his stomach area had turned, poking at it with interest. He’d stopped puking now and was just stuck lying there and groaning as his insides turned into soup.

It would stop eventually.

Right?

Next→

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump​ @painsandconfusion​ @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​ @whumpedydump​

[imjulia-andilikecats]

Lesson on How to Snag a Hot Prince: Mare Barrow Edition

Mare: The plan kinda changed, so we're just gonna take you with us

Cal: Am I being kidnapped?

Mare: No no no

Cal: Can I leave?

Mare:

Reference: dimension20show

[nerosdayinanime]

cant stop thinking of sabito-mitsuri interactions

[ronsenburg]

This WIP Wednesday is brought to you by that one poll blog that always asks: would polyamory have saved them? (The answer here is no, not really, but it might not hurt to try.)

“Why me, Sylvain?” Dorothea asked on the night of his twelth and final proposal.

The war had been over for nearly eighteen months, by then, but the streets of Enbarr still resembled the crumbling remains of the battlefield they’d been ultimately reduced to. Memories of violence and death had been hastily plastered over the backdrop of her previous life; after everything that had happened, after everything she’d done, it was far too painful to stay. So Dorothea had made a new home in Fhirdiad, teaching all the freshly orphaned little girls to sing and shivering through even the most mild of those first autumn days. It was Sylvain who had given her the first winter cloak she would wear in the kingdom, a gift on the day of his fourth proposal. The thick wool was dyed an indigo blue so deep that it was nearly purple, the inside fully trimmed in fine black ermine. She sat with it pulled close around her that night, still cold despite the fire and the thick stone walls that separated them from the late winter chill. This little library was one of Sylvain’s favorites, a glorified storeroom filled to the brim with dusty accounts of war that no one ever bothered to open. She’d spent more evenings in this room, in this chair, than she could count, now.

“There are plenty of women out there who would gladly overlook the occasional dalliance in exchange for a title.”

“You know I’m not that person anymore,” Sylvain replied, voice pained. The light from the dying fire beside them caught the shine of his eyes as he spoke. She watched as he dragged a hand roughly across them before burying his fingers back into the strands of his already disheveled hair. It was the most distraught Dorothea had ever seen him—and it was also the most honest. This was exactly the candor she’d been asking for since the night of his third proposal, when she’d realized that under all the flirting and the banter he used to dull the actual meaning of his words, Sylvain was actually sincere. She hadn’t anticipated just how difficult it would be for him to arrive here… or the guilt she would feel watching him struggle this way. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It isn’t a dalliance. It’s Felix.”

Dorothea shook her head softly. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”

Only, she thought she might. Maybe it was because she was an outsider, one of the few members of their little group not woven tightly among the others with years of family acquaintance or political affiliation. Maybe she was simply better at reading people. But she’d seen all the little looks and lingering touches as though they were stage directions written in the margins of a script. A love story in three acts. It was absurd to imagine she was the only one to notice. The quiet murmurs traded just beyond the circle of the party’s campfire. The look on Sylvain’s face the first time he’d come galloping out of some magically charged cloud of smoke with Felix’s unconscious body draped across the saddle.

The Sylvain of the present reminded her a bit of the man she’d seen, then. Pale and so, so desperate for her understanding. This wasn’t the poet attempting to immortalize the splendor of a great love; this was the face of someone truly haunted.

“I don’t think I can live without him, Thea,” he murmured, stricken. “Goddess knows I’ve tried to.”

And there it was, in all its gore and agony. The final bits of gossamer and tulle unwound, the evening’s makeup all washed away. Gone was the character from their academy days; all that was left before her, now, was Sylvain.

Dorothea sighed, reaching out to clasp his larger hands between her own. “Have you considered that marrying Felix might solve—“

“I can’t marry Felix,” Sylvain interrupted with a shake of his head. “Not for the reasons you’re thinking, either. It… it doesn’t work, between us. Not really. Not for long.”

[flowerflamestars]

Contretemps snippet

“You deny the sentience of the children of House Amidala, the firstborn of Padme Naberrie Amidala, and very well the future regnal Queen of Naboo, because you would rather that than acknowledge the hearts and minds and souls of millions who have fought and died for you?” Maul hated the fucking Senate.   Laced in misery and lies, even without the active taint of Sith intervention, everything on this damned planet was stained. Shadowed. Just because he’d found the trickle that led to sanity in this place, gained the rank of Knight in this warm, loving temple, it didn’t mean that he had to like it.   “Sir,” Fizz murmured, slightest push of questioning suggestion, his Lieutenant’s Force presence bubbling with phantom sunlight.   Maul turned back his attention to the broadcast.   Naboo.   Sithfucking, wretched, beautiful, cursed, Naboo. He couldn’t escape it.    It was not common knowledge where Maul had spent his childhood. Not among the Order and not at all in his files- the facts of Maul’s reality- Maul’s capture- had been entirely obscured for his own tenuous safety at the time he’d been dragged in. That he’d told his troopers, fellow child-slaves that they had been, was a mark of deeper Jedi sentiment that he liked to admit to himself.   “My children exist,” Senator Amidala’s ceremonial face paint was shattered through in scarlet lines. The high art of Naboo, where each phrase, every gesture, might seek to reach forward in meaning and backward in sentiment, reference and poetry and systemic, artful poise.   Nothing subtle about her now.   Red, for war.   Red, to remember.   “My children,” the broadcast shifted focus as her voice ironed out into ferocity, two round-faced human infants, wide-eyed, calm in the arms of the clone commander very exactly her left, Fox, where royal consorts stood, “Live and breathe and grow. If this august body suddenly believes it has the ability to deny the most basic realities and their intrinsic, inalienably rights as guaranteed by the Charter of the Republic co-written and sealed by my most holy predecessor, the first Amidala, than it may be time indeed, for the end of this union.”   Runi, stretched out on Maul’s living room floor, reassembling her riffle, snorted. “So much for peace.”

[luandti]

Museum AU (snippet)

Lucy Chen was angry. At HIM. Again.

“Is this really necessary?” she crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at Tim Bradford, Head of Security.

He gave her an annoyed look in response.

“Listen, Chen. I do an important job here. Not all of us can make a living out of painting pictures of naked men.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. He knew damn well that wasn’t what her job was (she was actually an art teacher who worked in museum education). But ever since he had confiscated her flyers, looking for nude models for an art class, he made fun of her. Her co-worker Rachel had commented that it was a shame Tim Bradford didn’t volunteer because he was quote “fine as hell”. Lucy did absolutely not think about him naked after that, ever.

“What’s going on?” that was Angela Lopez who worked with Tim in security and from Lucy’s experience so far she was actually nice. Although, she looked pretty intimidating right now.

“I couldn’t get into the museum because my access card doesn’t work. Mr. super cop over there”, Lucy made an annoyed pointing gesture with her head in Tim’s direction, “pretends he doesn’t know who I am and sticks to protocol.”

Angela looked between them for a second. And Lucy could swear there was a gleam in her eye. “He called the cops on you?”

“I did not call the cops!”, Tim sounded exasperated. “I simply have to manually check her ID to make sure she actually works here”.

“You KNOW I work here”, Lucy said through gritted teeth.

Angela definitely had a gleam in her eye.

“Bradford”, Nyla Harper’s voice, laced with authority, came from accross the entrance hall. “You had your fun, now let her through”. Nyla was the co-head of security and Lucy loved her because she usually treated Tim like an annoying little brother.

Tim ignored Nyla. But after making a show out of looking closely at Lucy’s face and afterwards at her ID photo, he gave it back to her and let her pass. Angela promised she would be in touch as soon as they found out what was going on with her card.

“Ugh, he is the WORST”, Lucy was still angry when she entered the office which she shared with Rachel and Tamara, her roommate and intern.

“Tim again?”, Rachel asked and exchanged a meaningful glance with Tamara which Lucy choose to ignore.

“Why does he have to annoy me all of the time?”

“Are you sure that is what he does?” Tamara sounded amused.

“What are you implying?”

“I don’t know... I always thought he is kinda flirting with you?”

Lucy tried not to blush but failed. “He is not!”

She heard Tamara whisper “sure” under her breath and choose to ignore that, too.

The truth was Lucy had no idea what exactly she and Tim had going on. Sometimes she thought there might be something flirty there - especially after Nyla’s wedding last year when he had asked her to dance with him and actually smiled at her.

From the start she had not been intimidated by his tough exterior but seen it as a challenge. Sometimes she was extra cheerful whenever she intercated with him and in return he pretended to be annoyed by that. They had played pranks on each other, starting with Lucy stealing his money from him after he had lectured her about keeping her backpack in an “unsecure place” while she led a group of kindergartners through the museum (she had left her backpack in the break room like everyone else).

Sometimes they do share intimate stuff with each other, too. For example when Lucy had found out about Tim’s wife, Isabel, a former employee at the service desk who had been fired when she, repeatedly, came to work high. After not seeing her for over a year, Tim caught her stealing money from the museum. He had tried to cover up for her. But Lucy had seen him and decided to talk him out of it. She told him that he would regret helping Isabel. He had been angry with her at the time. But the next day she saw him entering Grey’s office. The museum director was generally a kind employer but he had reported Isabel to the police after that.

In the almost two years that had passed since then, Lucy had absolutely not asked Angela about Isabel at one point and had totally not felt a fluttery feeling in her chest when Angela had told her that after Isabel’s return from rehab, she and Tim had decided to get divorced.

Last May, when Lucy’s abusive ex-boyfriend Caleb had tried to contact her again and Lucy had been scared, Tim had noticed and walked her home from work for a month after that.

When her best friend Jackson, a fashion model, had been in a car accident and Lucy couldn’t find out what was going on, it was Tim who called one of his cop friends for information and later drove her to the hospital.

So, Lucy knew that Tim was actually a good peson. He was generally liked among his co-workers, too. Angela and him seemed to be best friends even.

But still there were a lot of times when Lucy and Tim were at each others throats. Like when she had tried to recruit naked models for her adult art class: Tim had taken all of her flyers away and said they were against museum policy. Lucy knew he had made that up.

Or the time when Lucy was so angry at him because he thought about marrying his then girlfriend Ashley, although, she didn’t like his dog, Kojo? What was he thinking?

------

Tim Bradford watched as Lucy Chen finally walked towards the elevators. Maybe he had been a bit over the top this morning, of course he knew who she was and there actually wasn’t any protocol which forced him to double check her ID. But he always enjoyed ruffling her feathers a bit.

“Timothy, you do know that you are beeing pretty obvious, right?”

Tim spun around, giving Angela what he hoped was an outraged look.

Angela couldn’t stop a teasing smile from appearing on her lips. “Ohhh... you really do like her then.”

Tim closed his eyes and shook his head gathering all of his patience.

“Ang... please not this again, he started walking back towards their office next to the Museum’s gigantic wooden entrance doors.

Angela followed him. “Tim is in looove”

“Angela! Stop it.” He opened the door to the small room full of monitors showing surveillance footage.

Entering behind him Angela was about to say something when Tim let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t want to talk about her, ok? Besides, she would never consider dating me.”

“Why are you so sure about that?”

“She knows about Isabel, ok? About what I almost did for her? How I couldn’t stop my wife from becoming a drug addict. How I was so bad at marriage that she choose to live on the street...”.

Angela stared at him for a moment. “So that is why you don’t ask her out? because you are ashamed of your divorce?”

Tim ignored her and sat down to go through his paperwork.

“Tim, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard”, Angela announced. “I am pretty sure Lucy is into you..”.

That caught Tim’s interest “Why would you say that?”

Angela rolled her eyes at him “I have told you this before you idiot: she asks me stuff about you sometimes.” Laughing quietly she added “she probbaly thinks she is low-key about it but she is really not.”

Tim thought about that for a minute. “Doesn’t matter she is dating that Chris guy from PR”. Tim said “Chris” with obvious distaste.

“No, they actually broke up a month ago”, none of them had realized that Smitty, the janitor, had stepped into the office.

“Smitty, do I wanna know how you found that out?” Angela asked carefully.

“I overheard her talking to Rachel”, Smitty revealed innocently.

“He still hasn’t ask her out, then?” Nyla appeared behind Smitty and Tim covered his face with his hands. Why was everyone involved in this?

“Oh, Timmy, don’t be sad”, Nyla gave him a playful clap on the shoulder.

“When you don’t ask her, I will...” Smitty couldn’t even finish his sentence before Angela and Nyla said in unison “No! Not again”.

Tim had enough. He walked past them, out of the building and took a deep breath on the sidewalk in front of Thorsen Art Museum.

---

I had the idea for this AU in my head for a while but I don’t have the patience or the time to write full fics (sorry ;)). But I wanted to bring it to life somehow. So here is a fraction of a Chenford Museum AU. I hope you enjoy this. Also I am sorry for any language mistakes.

Btw this is what I envision AU Lucy’s apartement to look like.

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Gripping the sink tightly and looking into the mirror and repeating to myself that martrydom is overrated and that mortification of the flesh isn't as sexy as the media makes it look.

[ezrassillysauce]

get yourself friends like this

Sully fucker is FaceTiming me during james marriott gig and los campesinos RAHHH i love them sm

[glorious-spoon]

trying to find the right balance of eddie diaz head over heels for his best friend that he's currently sleeping with, without actually noticing that he's head over heels until long after they've stopped sleeping together