#I DID IT. I'M POSTING A LINK TO MY FIC

[tomatoteddy]

Pairing: Jedediah/Octavius ( Night at the Museum )

Word Count: 8,799

Summary:

It wasn't uncommon for the exhibits of the museum to have dreams while they were still during the day. Whether this was magic granted by the tablet or just natural for them was up in the air.

Whether these dreams had actual meanings though, was also up in the air.

Jedediah and Octavius have strange dreams about eachother during the day. Dreams full of sunsets, dates and kissing eachother. And neither of them know what to do after these dreams.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm gettin' real sick of my need to explain why the blorbos are exactly where they are in any fic i write

i can't just start in on a little ficlet or anything w/o putting in the specific backstory of why they got to where they are in w/e hypothetical situation i put them in or exactly what kind of things they'd actually be looking at irl

like, even in that little bit i added to this post; i HAD to look up and see what the June 1985 issue of vogue looked like and what part steve could've been hypothetically been reading in it. i even added a line for the watch ad on that page like ????

did the same thing with looking up what new barbie set one of the kids could've possibly asked santa steve for in my steddiemas fic!!

why?? what am i trying to prove?? who am i trying to impress??

idk i'm just realizing that my spicy six winter fic (which is already late) had a bunch of set up in the beginning of why they are where they are and ??? who cares?? i couldn't have just written a (much smaller) oneshot and started with "they're here because of ____" and just gotten on with it 🙄🙄🙄

[daddyplasmius]

okay, so, I've collected a bunch of DP fandom stuff that I remember off the top of my head, specifically in chronological order & colour coded here in this post (fics/comics, tumblr posts, important imo) for no reason other than I saw a post asking for Phandom history & it triggered my biggest, most long-running hyperfixation & now I'm curious if anyone else remembers stuff.

this link is going to be the permanent version I will be updating, but I'm posting what I currently have (gonna go through my old laptop later for more) just to let people know. you can also find the link on my blog, but only on desktop. It isn't colour coded there, sorry.

please share more if you got anything else cuz I'm 100% sure I'm missing a lot of stuff & am too interested now. the biggest reason a lot of stuff isn't here is that I simply can't find it. second biggest reason is i forgor. things not included here aren't "unimportant," this is just the first stuff that comes to mind.

putting it under a cut 'cause it got kinda long

Mars by JadeRabbyt (2005)

Checkmate by pearl84 (2006)

Conversations of a Ghost Gabber by Cordria (2006)

The Foley Maneuver by bluemoonalto (2007)

One Thousand Years by Nylah (2008)

Lab Rat by AnneriaWings (2009)

Lost by Cordria (2010?) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Phantom of Truth by Haiju (2011)

Ghost Deaths (2012)

Through Coals and Rain by Kakawot (2012)

Shadow of a Doubt by Haiju (2013)

Pink Pants (2013?)

Wes (2014) [original] [1] [2] [3] [4]

this "I'm Inevitable" gif (2014)

Space AU (2014)

Treading Water by The Full Catastrophe (2014)

Danny, you dead IDIOT!! comic (2014)

wash away the darkest days by anthrop (2014)

Reverse Trio (2014)

Inverse Trio (2014-2016) ALT

Halfas are "feral children" (2015)

Burn the Streets, Burn the Cars by anthrop (2015)

It's Not Gay if He's Dead by phantomrose96 (2015)

You Smell Like Death by starfleetrambo (2015)

Ghost Bird AU by @rest-in-peachs (2016?)

Things I Can(not) Do In Amity Park by RedHeadsRock1010 (2016)

KEtTLE by Cordria (2016)

Deeper, Darker by Silvermoonphantom (2016)

Danny Phantom Punches Butch Hartman In The Face by MistressVintage (2017)

Dannypocalypse (2017)

Ghost Train (2017?)

Ghost Physics by jayrockin (2017)

Ghost Infographics (2018)

The Taxonomy of Ghost Cores: An Observational Study (2018) Communicating with Ghosts Professionally: A Study (2018)

Species in Danny Phantom (2018?)

Diddles Piddles by diddly-darn-ghost (2018)

Broken Ectoplasm by ghostanimal (2019)

Ghost of Heroes by Enigmaris & ScarletNightFury (2019-2020)

do not stand at my grave and cry (i am not there, i did not die) by blueh (2020)

Undercover Phantom by artistfingers (2021)

Corruption is a Two Way Street by datawyrms (2021)

Things That Bleed by artistfingers, kkachis, & Perfectly_Inconspicuous (2022)

10,000 works on AO3 (2022)

Ghost Speak:

Danny's handwriting (2015?)

Cordria (2015)

Fiver-Rivers [1] [2] [3] (2019)

Rubber Chicken Sounds (2019)

[teatitty]

You wanna read my Mic fic soooo bad you wanna see my deranged thoughts about him you absolutely want to consume 30K of [completed!] character deep dive you want SO BAD to see the lead up to this

“You’re sick, Hizashi.” His voice is gentle. Kind, one could say. It somehow makes everything worse. “Your Quirk has hurt your mind.” His stance shifts. Hizashi braces himself for what’s to come. “I just need to make you better again. I just need to make you see --” Chisaki darts forward and in one whip quick movement, Hizashi finds himself laid out on his back, Chisaki straddling him with a wild look in his eyes, one hand pressed tight over Hizashi’s throat, fingers squeezing at the soft skin beneath his jaw, the threat of cutting off air a heavy layer around them.  Hizashi stays utterly still beneath him, forcibly calm. If Chisaki actually wanted to harm him, he would’ve done so the moment his hand connected. Of this much, he is certain.

[destinywillowleaf]

how to go from a one-shot/conversation spawned from thinking too much about an unseen father to more than a dozen fic ideas and an overarching narrative about family heritage (and the generational trauma that comes with it), the importance of communication, and how all lives touch other lives to create something anew and alive in one easy step

[alivingfire]

Yesterday is Ashes 

a sokka/zuko story | 90k words | mature rating | complete

Sokka takes a strategic step back, but he also smiles: triumphant, like he baited Zuko into exactly what he wanted. Like it’s a challenge. It’s the same way he looked when they sized each other up at the prison, with Sokka in chains that left red marks around his wrist, in tattered prison garb, malnourished and angry. Back then, that was Sokka saying: I see your power. I see you. Now, see me.

Zuko saw him then. And he sees him now; different, but the same. I see you.

Zuko lights his daos in flame. Sokka grins, back to gravel and heat. “Come on, Fire Lord. Impress me.”

Zuko burns. His vision flickers with fire. His heart races. His blood sings. His body is like a magnet, pulling ever onward to meet Sokka’s. He advances.

He pins Sokka to the wall, blades against his throat.

Or, Zuko found Aang first, Sokka and Katara were imprisoned in Boiling Rock for trying to rescue their dad, and all Sokka knows is he's pretty sure he's not supposed to think the Fire Lord is attractive but he's never let things like rules stop him before.

chapter one: the only thing sokka hit harder than puberty is the fire lord chapter two: in which zuko discovers that sometimes friends are terrible, actually  chapter three: is this feeling love, or is it anxiety?: the fire lord zuko story  chapter four: incident report: ambassador sokka gets his groove back 

[hotcinnamonsunset]

the cost of doing business

5.4k | buck/eddie | outsider POV

Ravi figures he has to be the last one to find out, especially since he’s finding out like this. He supposes that’s what he gets for bouncing around between the A shift and the B shift so much since he’s been back at the 118, but still. It happens like this: he had been this close! like, minutes away from printing out a new tenant lease! when the prospective renter in question calls the leasing office and mentions that she won’t be needing the 1 bed, 1 bath walk up in Faircrest Heights any more because she snagged a 2 bath loft downtown that seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity. He’s willing to let it slide - after all, the rental landscape is cutthroat as both a buyer and seller these days - but the specs of the place give him pause. Because really. Two bathrooms for a loft? Who signed off on a unit design like that? So in the spirit of checking out the competition that swooped in and swindled his renter he looks up the space and finds to his surprise a very familiar looking loft in the staging photos. Ravi’s only been to Buck’s apartment a handful of times but he’d recognize that stupid bike of his anywhere.

[kakusu-shipping]

👉👈 can we have the link to the fic? i would also love some soft leshy brain rot hours

--lovelunarships

@lovelunarshipships

HELLO??? HELLO???? I CAN DO YOU ONE BETTER, CAPTAIN

Did you know I was top Leshy simp for the first three months of 2022? What did I do with that title you ask? Why, I wrote All of This Shit:

The OG Trilogy: Story Telling Break, Bonfire, and Resting Place

Cleaning Up

Tiny Hands

Shadowy Figure

~Rain Rain~

The Rule of Beasts

Winter Weather (implied part of a larger Scrybe Polycule series)

Pocket Monsters

Just Say the Word and I'll Lasso the Moon (the one you actually asked for)

Kissing Leshy Headcanons from Before the Above Fic

Leshy Yandere Headcanons (+the other scrybes)

Thought dumps that make you feel emotions One, Two, Three, and Four

General Leshy Headcanons One, Two, and Three

I did a smaller handful of Magnificus X Readers, two P03 X readers, and one general Grimora headcanon post as well, and I still have more thoughts, more prompts, and more requests to post.

I hope if you like what you see you'll stick around, or shoot a request of your own some time! Thankyou for being patient with me.

[sunfoxfic]

Are you okay abt Felix fathom.

I feel so strongly about felix fathom and I know that the version of him that exists in my head exists nowhere else. I don't strictly think my interpretation is wrong, but I tend to give the benefit of the doubt where I can and also supplement with headcanon where canon does not fill in all the gaps, and this leads to a character who resembles canon in a way that no other version of Felix resembles canon. This, combined with the fact that I'm specifically seeking out Feligami content, and that I've been drawn to AU (specifically no powers AU) means that how I feel toward Felix is just. Not something that can be satiated with content that is not created by me. And trust me, I wrote a 30k word Feligami fic, I have been trying to satiate my own needs, but I can't keep up with myself.

Anyway in my head Felix is the specialest boy in the world but I know to other people he's Just Some Guy and that makes me sad because it means that people aren't creating content specifically catered to me.

[captainbogwitch]

Excerpt: Hands of a Healer

He’s stalling and he knows it. The map on the Sheikah Slate is looking more and more complete by the week, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be making his way to any one of the Divine Beasts by now. But he hesitates, he spends his days with his beloved horse, Sungold, dutifully documenting the flora and fauna of the land in the compendium, telling himself that he’ll start after one more shrine, after just one more tower, just one more, one more.

They’d scarcely made it out of the ordeal that was the tower in Central Hyrule where the Guardians roamed the fields ruthlessly. Sungold whinnies beneath him, still upset that he left her so far behind when he knows she can run faster than he can, but he can’t chance losing her. She is his best (and only) friend. He strokes her mane gently and says quietly, “I know, girl, I know.” It was always so easy to use his voice around her. He leans down and whispers in her ear, “I’ll try not to do it again, okay? At least not on the road.” she grumbles her disbelief but seems content enough for the moment. He keeps himself from wincing with each step she takes, he hadn’t gotten hit directly by any of the Guardians, but with those beasts, near misses could be just as fatal.

It takes them a few slow hours to get to the Wetland Stable where Link resigns himself to sleeping in a bed for the night. He hears whispers around him, the travelers telling each other about the increase in Zora sightings lately, ever since that tower turned from orange to blue. Link pulled up his hood, sipped his drink, and focused in on the single conversation happening amidst many.

“What could it mean? Seeing a Zora all the way down here.”

“Nothing good, I think. The Zora have been holed up in their place for decades. Could be the monsters riling themselves up, could have something to do with that awful screeching that started up a few months ago.”

“I heard they’re looking for a Hylian. Won’t say why though.”

“Can’t be nothing but trouble.”

The word Zora sounded familiar, from something Impa said, or from a storyteller in a different inn, or maybe from Link’s own foggy, empty mind. He looked at the map on the slate again. Any other towers were too far or too hot to reach, and he’s already activated the one for this region. There was no reason to stall anymore, not when he wasn’t even a couple hours ride from the tower itself. In the morning he and Sungold packed themselves up again and headed out, looking for a Zora.

[queenangst]

im not gonna reblog it a third time but if. you know. if anyone wants to send me more. taps the ask box

[riseninsaturn]

idea i had while i was walking home from school today was to write a fic that’s a “case study” (wordplay incoming) about a character, either apollo or phoenix or klavier i haven’t decided’s, experience with dissociation. and the concept was that the fic was an OC case (there you go) where it goes from news release to the trial’s conclusion, with events in between, but the entire telling of the process was largely disjointed and details kind of came in and out of “focus” because it’s intending to display the strange surreal nature of being on the fringes of reality and something decidedly different. 

i think the idea is interesting but ultimately would take a lot to execute-- for one, writing an entire case myself, which isn’t something i’m particularly good at as i’m not very good at concocting entirely original ideas. but at some point if i want to try out that kind of experimental writing style i may give it a go! 

[hychlorions]

...may I ask what the controversial klapollo take is? You got me kinda curious 👀👀👀

ok well it's not really a take, but i did write something where apollo said a bunch of hurtful things to klavier at some point. i just thought he was allowed to be really mean for fifteen seconds. as a treat (as misguided as that anger was). and i figured, hey he'll spend the next twenty-something thousand words trying to make up for it, anyway. i've been told people think it was ooc for apollo, though, and now whenever i see people leaving kudos on it i think... oh no... please don't read that...... please don't think that i think what he said was excusable without some attempt at redemption on apollo's part.... i'm not trying to brush it off at all oughghhh

[kakusu-shipping]

Finally decided to jump in AO3′s Mariocest collection, which is really good btw I recommend Priorities Rewritten by Karatecake, easily my favorite one I read all night

Anyway I accidentally ended off on an Angst/Unrequited Love/Dark fic because I apparently cannot read warning tags so now I’m sad and it’s 5am so I have to go to bed sad

[catboii]

← Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 → Full Thread

[Day ####]

In the morning, despite not falling asleep at all, at the sound of her alarm Agent 23 gets up and follows her normal routine, getting up and making coffee while she drops two slices of bread into her toaster. She feeds her dog, Goldie, and ruffles her head fluff while telling her how much better she’s looking. 

When she gets into work, she’s almost dreading going into the chamber with her charge, as she feels like they made so much progress, but it was all dashed in one shocked gasp. 

However, once she’s in the first chamber, the little creature perks its head up, hopping over to the final doorway ready to greet her. She can physically feel the relief flooding her body like adrenaline, from her chest out to her fingers. Every muscle relaxes by the time she’s through the final door, and she reaches her hand out to pet the crow’s head, but instead it flaps its huge wings and jumps onto her forearm. She isn’t expecting it, and it’s a lot heavier than any parrot she’s ever held at the zoo as a teenager, and her arm droops. The creature flaps to stay steady, and she pulls her arm up and out, supporting its weight fully. “Oh. Hi there.” The creature trills and headbutts her in the chin, its fluffy feathers tickling her nose. She feels silly for worrying about anything now, and she starts instead to worry if the creature felt similarly, like maybe while she was gone it had worried that she wouldn’t return. With her other hand, she pets the back of the creature's head, and it butts her chin again, this time keeping it there while she pets it. They stay like that for a while. 

“Crowvid,” she starts, while sitting with her legs outstretched, the creature perched on the tip of one of her shoes. “Is there anything I can bring you? Like the chess set. If I’m allowed to bring you something to play with, so you’re not bored…” The creature has already hopped down onto the floor, and is now holding out one of its feet, as if clutching something and swirling it. “Are you miming something?” She watches it do this a little longer and tries to guess what it’s trying to say. “Are you stirring something?” It shakes its head and instead of the smooth round swirling motion, it instead swishes its foot around more randomly. “Are you- drawing something?” The creature drops the pose and nods vehemently, hopping up and down with its wings outstretched. “Oh! What are you drawing?” The creature stops and shakes its head again. “You’re… not drawing anything?” She thinks for a moment longer, the crow just looking up at her with its head tilted. “Are you asking me… for something to draw with?” Again it hops up and down nodding. “Ahh! That makes sense. Alright. Wait right here.” As she gets to her feet, the crow hops over to her feet and puts one clawed foot on her shoe, as if to grab her. “What’s wrong? I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?” The crow slowly takes its foot back, and hops back one step. “Alright. Wait here.” She avoids adding ‘like you could go anywhere if you wanted.’ 

In less than twenty minutes, she returns with a sealed packet of printer paper and some marker pens. She had to sign off for each pen individually, but if somehow this creature can draw something recognisable, it would be a big step in the research, and if she can make enough progress with this job, she could even start thinking about putting in for a promotion. The year before she had started thinking about applying to become a researcher, but there was a lot of work you need to do beforehand, and you need to ultimately be referred by your department’s overseer, and they aren’t likely to do that unless you’ve made some waves, and gotten a name for yourself. Before this, she was just another Agent, sat around writing notes about objects that didn’t do anything beyond give some people the creeps. 

She places everything on the floor as she kneels down, still not having the authorisation to bring in a chair. Something about it being too large to account for. The pens roll around on top as she puts it down, and once it’s down and she starts to undo the bottom of the packet, Crowvid tries to pick up one of the markers with its beak, but it can’t quite do it, they’re too round and slippery for it to hold. “Just hold on. I’ll help you in a second, okay?” Once the packet is open, she pulls out a few sheets in one pull, and puts them down between herself and the bird. Crowvid straightens the papers with one foot as it looks at the pens. Agent 23 takes one, pulling off the cap and holding it out at the end so it can take it with its foot like it showed when miming. 

It takes the marker and awkwardly starts trying to draw something. It’s just a bunch of squiggles the best she can tell, and she turns her head from one side to the other, trying to see anything recognisable in it. Eventually the crow drops the marker and digs at the paper, throwing it away as it uncovers the next piece. 23 reaches for the discarded piece and looks it over. She still can’t quite tell if anything is here, but as she looks back to crowvid, it looks like its very carefully marking out shapes. Possibly letters. 

It makes short marks on the paper, dashes, over and over, joining them together to make a shape. It keeps hopping back on one foot, not dropping the marker as it reviews its work from a distance, then going back to it. There’s a recognisable P and R, then a triangle. 23 watches, astonished, as the creature continues to very attentively write out P R A C T in very large letters on the paper. With no more room, it pulls that piece away and gets another ready, although slightly marked from the leak-through, and it finishes the final letters, reading I C E. It drops the marker and pulls that piece away, lining it up with the other, spelling out “PRACTICE”. The animal looks up at Agent 23, whose mouth is open slightly, and it looks proud of itself, if a crow could look proud of itself. 

“You… You just wrote that. ‘Practice’?” She looks on, still stunned. Not only can the creature understand her, but it can write… “Okay. How did you learn to do that?” As far as the paperwork suggests, the creature wasn’t picked up in this country, it was picked somewhere that primarily spoke a form of chinese. If that’s where it was from, how could it write in english? 

The creature hops back over to the pile of papers, picking up the pen and again and with great effort and concentration, dashes out something on the page. This time it doesn’t look like letters at all, just a jumble of curved lines. Eventually it stops, puts the pen down and looks up at Agent 23. She falters as if she’s missing something obvious. “Um. It’s um.”

The creature looks down at the drawing, circling the paper to look at it from her angle. After a moment it goes back to the other side, and starts drawing something else, smaller. It doesn’t pick the pen up so far this time, and seems to be putting more effort into drawing straight lines. After a while, an image starts to appear. “Oh. is it a bed? Do you want a bed?” The crow shakes its head and carries on drawing something else. A small arrow. The arrow is pointing from the bed to the squiggly mess of shapes. “Is it a blanket?” The creature drops the pen and jumps up and down excitedly, letting out a small caw. “Oh, and those are cushions!” It hops up onto her knee and headbutts her in the chin again. “Alright. I’m sorry. It’s a very good picture! I’m just not used to talking to someone like this. I’ll get used to it!” After she finishes saying this, she realises she said ‘someone’, implying that she thinks Crowvid isn’t just ‘something’, but she doesn’t correct herself now. 

Again, she leaves the chamber to go and fetch a blanket, or a sheet of some kind, and some cushions, which is something they definitely have. Some of the Anomalies have certain comfort needs, and so cushions and the like are easy enough to obtain and sign off. Although she does have to sign different kinds of waivers than for the chess set and papers, as cushions and sheets can be dangerous with the risk of smothering or choking. This usually feels condescending, as some of the inanimate objects use cushions because if they’re in contact with certain hard surfaces, they have certain effects, but usually this can be negated with cushions of different materials. Having to sign to say ‘I understand the receiver of this object could smother me or someone with this object and I take responsibility for the consequences’ feels stupid when you’re using it with something like a little wooden box that can’t physically move, and therefore cannot smother you in any way. 

When 23 returns, Crowvid has drawn some other things, some papers strewn about the floor, some apparently ripped up by its claws. She places the blanket and cushions on the floor beside the wall where it normally sits to relax or seemingly sleep, and she wanders around, looking over the doodles. One of the pieces is almost a shape she feels she should recognise, and she notices that its redrawing it, looking back and forth between the two. It’s a rectangle about half the size of the piece of A4, and there are some squiggles around the edges. On the discarded piece there’s another rectangle drawn just inside this, and there are some squares drawn in the middle, with wiggly lines that may indicate words. As she watches it draw the second version, she exclaims, “is that a phone?” 

The bird drops the marker and squeaks in surprise, as if it wasn’t finished and it didn’t think she would figure out what it is. She pets it on the head, thinking. “I’m not sure that I can do that… But I can see what I can negotiate.” At that, the creature pulls away from her hand, looking up at her with wide eyes. At first she thinks it’s thankful, but there’s something in the way it’s stiffened that makes her think something’s wrong, maybe it thinks this is impossible and she’ll get in trouble? So she keeps talking. “I’ll have to get the Overseer to sign off on something like that. Normally it’s only a case of filling out some forms and getting the… Well, someone higher than myself, to approve it. But a phone?” The crow has settled again, and is back within reaching distance, so she returns to petting its head, and it lets her, its feather’s fluffing as it nestles down onto the ground. “I’m sure I can think something up though. I’ll ask when I leave in a bit. My shift is nearly over.” The crow is now half leaning against one of her legs, and she runs her fingertips over the small, soft feathers of its forehead. It closes its eyes under her touch. “Is there something you want it for? Is it for writing on?” The creature shuffles, pulling out one of its legs from under its fluffy body, making the looping gestures that earlier meant ‘drawing’, rather than writing. “Drawing?” It drops its foot and nods slowly, settling again. 

At the end of today’s shift, she scoops the bird up, who flaps uncertainly at the new movement, and she gently places it down on top of the blanket and pillow pile. She pulls at the free side and folds the blanket over the creature’s body, tucking it in crudely. It trills and she smiles down at it. She almost wants to kiss it on the head like she does for her dog when she puts her into bed. But she resists. They’re not quite that close yet.

[ansicred]

a reminder that you can subject me to complaints (joking, send me whatever you want -- within reason, ofc) via my askbox !