#TAS!au

[bugdatabase]

Nocia

Segment 2 of Chapter 4 is out now ^^ [ Chapter 4: Rewired ]

[farceurcole]

[littlemoonflowr]

who is this ugly ass

[feelingbat-ty]

This is inspired by @aflamboyanceofflamingos post about Tim choosing to publicly hate Robin as Tim Drake, cause to love or hate someone is the best way to hide a secret identity.

I started thinking about Tim coming into contact with his teammates as a civilian and Tim using this as an opportunity to take out all the grievances he has for his team in a way, that 1) Won't cause tension and fights. And 2) let him get away with being a petty arsehole, cause it's not like superheros can just go and beat up random civilians.

And well... my hand slipped.

--- You Can't Spell Spite Without Timothy Jackson Drake ---

The amount of times YJ comes across Tim Drake in the wild would be concerning if Tim didn't stalk them as often as his busy schedule allows (which turns out to be quite often). The Beta tube in the Batcave and another secret Beta tube in the bowls of Wayne enterprise's Francisco building allows Tim easy and direct access whenever he so desires.

And well, Tim never did grow out of his stalking phase.

It would be comical - if it wasn't maddening - how often they don't realise he's there. Most of the time he's stalking trailing a member of the team he's not trying to hide his presence, it wouldn't make sense for him to, not as Tim Drake.

The team have a tally board that sits in the common room, it's at 85.

85.

His team's situational awareness is absolutely appalling. 85, they've noticed him only 85 of the hundreds of times he's followed them around?

He complains to Dick about it, a lot. He's hoping Dick will give him some tips on how to beat situational awareness into his teammates thick skulls. He was the leader of the Titans, so he has to have something!

Dick - like the asshole he secretly is - just laughs at him.

He asks Cassie about it once. Why they don't find it concerning that they encounter Tim Drake: famous for being the civilian who 'beat Robin in a fight' every other week?

"I mean, You're usually right about these sorts of things, Rob. If you don't think Drakes an issue, then we trust you."

Tim can't figure out whether to feel warm and giddy at the fact that they apparently trust him, or to be annoyed at the fact that they follow after him like sheep. Not even doing their own research and recon (Cassie probably did. Kon and Bart? Yeah, hell would have a better chance at freezing over).

The first time was a coincidence. Tim had needed some space (from Bruce. From his deadlines. From his own mind...) and ended up wondering the streets of San Francisco with no real destination in mind.

An impulse turn led him onto the boardwalk and from there right to Superboy.

It was a bright and sunny day in Fran and Kon was glowing. Literally, because of the sun and figuratively from pride after he stopped a would-be pick pocket-er from pick pocketing an elderly lady.

He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't, not when the team know of Tim Drake, know his face and all about how he hates Robin and makes it his whole personality. Not when the only thing that stops them putting Tim Drake on Baby Super villain watch is Tims general blasé attitude about, well... himself.

But is it oh, so tempting.

Especially because the month before, Kon had accidentally smashed Tim's favourite coffee mug in a series of event's (involving a yoga ball, shearing scissors, laser vision and a will from God himself) so convoluted that Tim was convinced it had been orchestrated for a solid week.

Was it a cheap mug from Kmart? Yes, but it's the principle of the matter!

As Tim’s left shoe impacts the side of Superboys face, a sense of manic glee overtakes him. Tim takes special care to seer this memory of Superboy getting hit in the head with Tim's shoe and the stupid face he makes as the ratty converse collides with his cheek, into his brain.

It's not much, but it's justice all the same for his once beloved mug.

Tim... might just be a tad sleep-deprived.

Superboy startles and lets out a frantic “Shit!” Assuming he’s being attacked by a surprise enemy (the kind that isn’t just civilians throwing shoes) he looks around, taking stock of his surroundings and looking for any immediate threats before glancing down at the shoe and visibly doing a double take.

His face is blank as he stares - undoubtably confused - at the shoe. A second later he's lifting his gaze, following the direction the show came from and staring right at Tim.

Tim, who (like an idiot) is still, for some reason, positioned how he was when he threw the shoe - arm outstretched and leg back to brace himself.

There is absolutely no way he wasn't the one who threw the shoe. If the stance didn't give it away, then him having one shoe (that shoe being a near identical ratty rad converse) probably did.

“What?” Superboy asks. He looks befuddled. A little amused, but mostly just confused. He's got a small, polite smile on his face that just reeks of Clark Kent's influence. Kon is obviously trying to model himself off of Superman - specifically Superman's polite and approachable "Grandma pinching worthy" vibe and not his fashion choices, since he's still got the leather jacket and sunglasses.

Tim makes a mental note to tell Kon that he has a really expressive face. Tim is literally reading all his emotions in 4K. They should probably work on that, it could be a liability in the field.

Tim briefly considers playing dumb and acting like it wasn’t him that threw the shoe, before dismissing that idea, Kon can be clueless at times, but he’s not a complete idiot.

So instead, he says, “that was a very open-ended question.”

And well, it was.

At the look Superboy gives him, he elaborates, “What, when said in that context, could mean literally anything! Like, ‘what was the purpose of that?’ ‘What’s your name, so I can in-prison you’ ‘What shoe size was that?’ Seriously, dude, be more specific!”

Superboy’s befuddlement takes a sudden nosedive to incredulity. “Okay, fine. Why did you throw a shoe at me?”

“Cause you work with Robin.” He says simply. He'd say 'justice' but then he'd sound like batman and like, thanks but no thanks.

“Cause I- what? You physically assaulted me with a shoe because I work on the same team as Robin?”

Tim, personally, thinks assault is a strong word to use for this situation, but he’s glad that at least some of his lessons on the proper terms and vocabulary are paying off.

He nods, cause that is indeed what he just did, he crosses his arms across his chest, and stares Superboy down.

Superboy who, looks like he’s regretting everything that led him to this moment. Tim relishes in that for just a little too long to be healthy. Probably.

Tim doesn’t really care. He told Kon (as Robin) that he’d regret breaking Tim’s favourite mug (accident or not, he's still not over it.) yeah, this might not be how either of them envisioned it, but Tim thinks this might just be better than beating Kon up as Robin in their next team training session. What better way to get someone back than to publicly humiliate them in front of all their peers? Shame he can't do that anymore.

Eh, who is he kidding? He’s still going to do that anyway.

“You’re only gonna throw one?” Superboy has a look on his face that’s similar to the one Bruce gets when he’s decided to give up and play along with the crazy. The one where he'll smile and nod, slowly inching out of the room, as Duke and Damian (There has truly never been a more terrifying duo) explain to him in vivid detail how they're going to use psychological warfare to make a shitty teacher at their school resign.

“Yes.” Why’d he throw both his shoes? He’d have no shoes!

“… Right. Why did you throw this one?”

All these questions!

“I like that one the least,” he shrugs, and it's true, the converse on his right foot has a little bi flag that Steph sewed into it back when they were dating. A throw pillow was the closest thing in reach at the time, so he sewed a little pan flag on it for her (he later did one on the breast pocket of one of her denim jackets).

“You are so freakin’ weird, dude! You throw a shoe at me! Because I work with Robin!”

Uh, yeah, we've already established that.

“How did you even get it off that fast!”

To be Honest, Tim is also surprised at how fast he was able to get his shoe off. One second he’s looking at Superboy the next he’s lobbing a shoe at his thick head.

Instead of saying any of that, Tim channels his inner Janet Drake, sticking his nose into the air and scoffing like Kon is the literal gum stuck on the sole of his shoe.

Kon, - because he’s no longer Superboy, he’s too fired up to hold onto the mask - shakes his head. It’s mocking, when he says, “You must be really shitty at throwing a punch if you had to resort to throwing shoes.”

Tim shrugs, “Well, I woulda thrown a fist, but you’re not worth a fist.”

Kon is silent and doing an amazing impression of a blobfish.

Tim turns and struts away before Kon has the chance to come up with a rebuttal, or just decides to punch him in the face.

He’ll grab his shoe later, after Kon leaves.

The basted incinerated his shoe.

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

❥ college/uni au - teaching assistant Geto Suguru x Reader

ft: philosophy Geto, mutual crush, office hrs // wc: 2k // [ao3]

Your TA was absurdly hot. It really shouldn’t be allowed.

You were embarrassingly down bad for Geto Suguru. Bad enough that you were pretending to be fascinated by philosophy, sitting at the front of the room for his study sessions as if you were a model student and not soaked just from the way his arm flexed as he wrote on the chalkboard.

He had apologized for his hoarse voice as he began today’s session, blaming seasonal allergies. Suguru was muffled in a fuzzy sweater, strong hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. You wished they were wrapped around you instead, holding you close, or holding you open…

“Everything okay?”

You flinched and snapped out of your daydream, blushing to the tips of your ears. “I-I’m sorry, I got distracted…”

He smiled reassuringly at you, achingly pretty with the wink of a dimple on his right cheek. “No problem, just checking!”

He paced around the room, answering questions and reading over essay drafts as he sipped his tea.

He leaned innocently over your shoulder to critique a few lines of your writing. The man smelled like vanilla and parchment, and a few strands of his soft hair brushed your cheek where they’d escaped from his bun.

Your stomach flipped, your blush back with a vengeance. You absorbed exactly none of what he was saying, but nodded anyway. “Of course, that makes sense.”

He stayed bent behind you for a few more seconds, enough for you to wonder if it was intentional and if your hair smelled nice too, and if he could stay there forever- “Okay great. Keep it up!”

He turned to address the whole room. “Great work today, everyone! I know you’ll be ready for the final on Friday. If you need anything, my office hours are tomorrow from four to six.”

———————

Your heart raced as you knocked. What were you doing? This was such a stupid idea, he’d never-

The office door swung open, and Geto stood blinking at you, his tired eyes framed by dark shadows. He was pale, a thick scarf now draped over the fluffy sweater. “Here for office hours, yeah?” His rasp had devolved into a croak.

“If you’re not feeling well, I can come back another time!”

He shook his head, waving you inside. “It's not contagious, just allergies kicking my ass…and finals aren’t going anywhere.”

You followed him into his office, taking in the sea of abandoned mugs and teetering stacks of books and papers. You steeled yourself to follow the plan, and pulled a thermos of soup out of your bag.

“This is for you.” You held out the thermos awkwardly. “Since you’re sick. It’s soup.”

He took the thermos you were brandishing, eyes crinkling over the edge of the scarf. “You got me soup?”

“Made you soup,” you clarified, rocking a little on your heels. “It’s just chicken noodle, something I always had when I was sick as a kid- it’s basically a cure-all.”

“You’re very kind.” He shook his head. “But if this is an attempt at a grading bribe, you know I can’t accept.”

Unable to read his expression from behind the scarf, you reassured him a little frantically, “Of course not! I didn’t even think of that. I just thought it might help you feel better…” You trailed off, realizing that your TA was laughing, his broad shoulders shaking.

“I’m kidding. But really, this is too kind.” He tilted his head, loosening the scarf a little to flash a grin. “Did you just come bearing soup, or are there philosophy questions to go with it?”

You shook your head, trying to recover from dazzle of his perfect smile. “Ah, not exactly…but I can think of some!”

Geto laughed again, and you wanted to listen to it forever. “Don’t worry, my brain is a bit stuffy at the moment anyways. Just makes your gesture all the more selfless.” He leaned forward with a soft smile. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Anything to stay a little longer, you didn't say.

He was so graceful. Watching him make tea is like watching a dancer, or a master calligrapher- an act delicate and perfected. It didn't help that his long fingers curled around the mug so easily, his body heat still warming the ceramic when he passed it to you.

It tasted floral, a hint of smoke at the back of your throat. “Mmm, this is amazing.”

Geto stretched casually, pulling his scarf off fully to sip his own brew. "I'm glad." A quiet fell between the two of you, not altogether uncomfortable.

You wanted to say something brilliant, ask some profound question that would make him think of you as a kindred intellectual, and hopefully sexy to boot. What you came up with was, "Why philosophy?"

A faraway look settled on his face as he looked down, lost in thought. You hadn't expected him to take you so seriously. "I...used to have a lot of questions. Still do, but- I had more when I was younger, let's say." He was barely older than you, but you didn't dare laugh as he described himself that way. There was a weight on his shoulders as he spoke, drawn into himself.

"I've never been satisfied with the answers that I was given by authorities, or the structures that they operate in. How can you hope to change a system if you refuse to interrogate it, or to fix something without admitting it's broken?" His gentle voice had taken on a steely edge, eyes narrowed as he stared at the carpet. "I wanted to think for myself, to teach others to think for themselves- keep them from being taken advantage of."

He glanced up at you, quickly softened back into the charming TA you knew. "At least I hope that's what I'm doing now. That's 'why philosophy', I suppose." He leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees with a disarming smile.

You squirmed under his attention, suddenly embarrassed by how distracted you were during his study sessions. But you had been motivated to try harder, had spent a record number of hours in the library this semester. Concepts that put you to sleep when laboriously explained by the ancient professor came to life on Suguru's lips, and not just because you couldn't help staring at them, imagining how soft they'd be against yours...

"Everything okay?" It was becoming a frequent question with you, he noted to himself.

"Yes, of course," you said shakily. He wasn't convinced, became steadily less so as he crossed the room to you, leaning down with a hand on the couch behind your head.

"Are you sure? You're looking a bit flushed." He was being nice, was just showing concern for a student...and was far too close to your face. Deep brown, nearly violet eyes lingered too long on the way you bit your lip, struggling to regain composure.

"I'm fine. Just- moved by your answer, that's all." This time his answering smile wasn't just solicitous, it was hungry. He moved closer, enough that you could feel his warm breath on your cheek.

"That means a lot to me, you know. To have such a...passionate student."

You couldn't breathe. Had to be dreaming, couldn't possibly be feeling his warm palm on your cheek, his thumb hovering over your parted lips. You reached out, tried to pull him closer, but he smoothly laced his fingers with yours and pinned your hand beside your head.

"Office hours are almost over," he murmured into your neck, lips ghosting over your thrumming pulse. "Do you have any burning questions for me?" You felt his smirk against your skin, felt a brief flash of shame that he had seen through you so easily, could tell how badly you wanted him- but quickly forgot it in the heat of his body against yours.

A sigh fell from your mouth instead of the witty comeback you hoped for, and he laughed. This close, it felt like thunder in the hollow of your chest. With great effort, you caught your breath enough to whisper, "What do you taste like?"

"Hm?"

"That's my burning question. What do you-"

He cut you off with a searing kiss, slipped his tongue into your mouth to make sure you had your answer. He tasted like the tea, of course, but also cinnamon, and something sharp and harsh that sent sparks down your spine.

His hands were everywhere, roaming across your ribs, lifting your chin, pulling your body closer in a helpless gravity. Geto broke away with a gasp, his forehead pressed against yours. "I shouldn't be doing this, fuck, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-"

Your eyes met. "I know what I was thinking," you protested softly. "I know what I've been thinking since the moment I first saw you. After all," you mustered all your courage to run a hand through his hair, "you're in the year above me, aren't you? A teaching assistant, not the professor-"

He grinned, nudged his nose against your cheek. "Don't act like you don't enjoy being my student. I've seen you too, starry-eyed in the front row of my review sessions..." He was high off your embarrassed little protests, pushed his advantage.

“I thought about you so many times- imagined having you under the podium on your knees, sucking me off while I lectured…” You whimpered, clung to him as he whispered filth. “Bouncing in my lap while I graded papers..." He lightly kissed the corner of your mouth, achingly close to where you wanted him.

"You have no idea how hard it was to focus on my damn lessons with you right there in front of me. And then," he huffed a laugh. "and then here you are, coming to my office hours with homemade soup and looking so goddamn beautiful..."

"Suguru, kiss me again. Please, kiss me-"

Suguru kissed you. He kissed you like he was drowning, like you were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, awed and demanding in the same shared breath. He laid you down on the couch, caged you in with his strong body. His silky hair fell across your cheek, framed his sharp features like an inky halo.

His fingers trailed down your neck, to the buttons on your blouse- and a clock began to chime in the recesses of his office. He sat up with a curse. "I have a 6:30 class, I'm so sorry-" he flurried around his office, throwing papers and books into his backpack. "Damn it, my scarf-" You reached for it on the back of the couch and held it out to him with a shy smile.

"You're an angel, thank you." You glowed at the praise, though he was too preoccupied to notice. Geto shrugged into his jacket, tossed back the dregs of his cold tea, and smoothed his hair back into a neat bun. He was halfway to the door when he turned back to you with a crooked smile on his face.

"Can we...continue this another time? Please. I'd really like to."

You nodded, stood up to follow him out, heart still racing at everything that had just happened. "Your next office hours?"

He laughed and waved you ahead, holding the door. "I think I could find the time for some one-on-one tutoring." He locked his office, and you stood facing each other outside it for an awkward moment.

"Well." He looked down the hallway, then back at you. All you could think was that he looked like a painting, a sculpture- Suguru was somehow a work of art under the dingy fluorescent lights. He debated hugging you goodbye, shaking your hand, kissing you senseless, and settled on a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck on that exam." He was halfway gone already, long legs carrying him out of sight when he turned back with a wave and called, "and thank you for the soup!"

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Something simple but TA Ash~

[13thfairytale]

nrc staff bonding trip is going great

[downbaddetective]

So... I'll just leave these here...

!!!!!!

I haven't posted any of my art anywhere in years, I don't know how to feel.

(Howl's Moving Castle AU)

[tangledinink]

Right. So. To recap... Donnie and Leo live as the Gemini with Big Mama. Raphael lives as Oblation amongst the Foot Clan. Michelangelo was raised by Draxum... So Splinter didn't keep any kids in the divorce? :(

( incorrect! this man is a dad whether he likes it or not-- and it doesn't even have to be his kid. )

enter -> hamato yoshi, former champion, current hermit.

after yoshi was mutated, his physical appearance altered so drastically that he could never dream of returning to his previous life on the surface, he was understandably devastated. even worse, into the world came a gaggle of little turtle children bearing his DNA...! only to be immediately torn from his grasp, lost and presumably killed in the lab explosion. yoshi isolated himself in the sewers after this, not only because he had no desire to seek out the company of others... but because he had no where else to go.

he lived as a recluse and hermit for several years in the sewers until, through some ungodly twist of fate and he presumes some amount of child negligence, he investigated an odd noise in the tunnels only to find a small, sobbing girl in his sewers. he had kept himself from the prying eyes of others for this long, and he considered leaving her and trusting that someone would find her eventually, but...

enter -> april o'neil, tamer of grouchy rats

she was a child. he couldn't just leave her, could he? banking on the fact that she couldn't be more than five or six, and therefore any tales she recounted of a rat man in the sewers would hopefully be dismissed as a 'wild imagination,' he revealed himself to her, calmed her down, and helped her out of the sewers so she could find her parents again. april was equal parts thrilled and fascinated by her rescuer-- this was easily the most interesting person she had ever met in her life. and she lived in new york city!

and after that, well...

yoshi just couldn't quite seem to get rid of her? she just kept showing back up, no matter how many times he brought her back home. he did everything he could to discourage her, refusing to entertain her questions or even give his name, (that's okay, she picked out her own name for him-- splinter.) but this did little to dissuade april o'neil. she's grown up frequently visiting the rat down in the sewers, despite his protests. he's still the most interesting person she knows-- and besides, she can't leave that pitiful old rat alone at this point! he loves her and she knows it, he just won't admit it. and she knows he's still got fascinating secrets for her to tease out of him. there's definitely more to his story... and she'll uncover it eventually. after all... she's april o'neil!

[ooowyn]

return of the starwars disease

[bugdatabase]

new chapter !!

LINK <-- 

This is what happens when I get too dedicated, i turn into picasso

[avonne-writes]

Gale’s oral fixation + John’s big thighs 😍❤️‍🔥

Criminally hot 🔥 I had to write a drabble. This is set in my modern AU where they're postgrad students and best friends with benefits already in love with each other but scared to confess it.

Exam papers flutter on the desk of Gale's supervisor as the fragrant spring breeze swirls in through the open window. The Astrophysics department's small office smells like old bookshelves, leather and coffee, more comforting than the Business School's sterile ultramodern building. But John isn't here to examine the decor - he came to entertain Gale because he thought it was unfair that he had to be holed up inside, grading papers when the weather was so nice.

That, and because John wanted to kiss him.

It's all he can think about lately. His best friend's lips, their plump cushion under his own, the taste of them, soft skin between John's teeth. Given their amazing, perfect, completely causal agreement that they'd help each other out quick and easy if needed, he didn’t have any hangups about it. But he did think it would be weird to just ask to make out without an end goal, so he pretended to be horny as an excuse, even though he wasn't.

He just didn't count on Gale being the one who'd be too turned on to resist a quickie right where they could be caught anytime.

"Jesus Christ, Buck." John hisses in the rolling chair of Gale's supervisor, his hips twitching to thrust into Gale's hand. In the grip of Gale's pale fingers, he throbs with hot need, Gale's spit slicking his length to make the friction just right as Gale strokes him. "Warn a guy next time."

"Warn?" Gale asks, lust low in his voice. He’s kneeling between John's spread legs, halfway under the desk. With his free hand, he tugs John's trousers and boxers down to bare his thighs completely.

"We started this whole thing because you said it would be convenient. That we could have each other anytime, no strings attached." He presses his lips to John's right thigh and bites down gently, his teeth digging into John's muscle. "I want you now."

"Fuck." John breathes out, gripping the armrests. He needs to swallow the moans already pressing at his throat, the guttural, helpless noises he tends to make in Gale's bedroom, because they're one curious professor away from scandal. "Can we close the window at least?"

"Nah." Gale nuzzles his thigh again, the corner of his lips curling into a smile. "I know you'll be a good boy, John."

John throws his head back against the headrest. "I'm really not."

He feels the huff of Gale's laugh on his leg. "Yes, you are." Gale sucks on a strip of John's skin noisily until it colours pink, sensitive. His expression is pure bliss. "My good boy."

A surprised whimper escapes John's throat. "What?"

Gale freezes for a moment, as if caught, but he goes back to rubbing and kissing John's thigh a second later. "Nothing."

"I don’t know what came over you." John mumbles breathlessly, slouching in the chair to give Gale better access to his cock, to chase Gale's teasing hand. His own fingers find their way to Gale's blond hair and tug as Gale leaves a hard bite on the meat of his thigh to mirror his work on the other side.

When Gale bats his right hand away, he puts the left on Gale's head instead. Gale gives him an exasperated look, then sits back on his haunches to get away from his demanding touch. His eyes roam over John's body lazily, his fist still moving up and down.

"You didn't sit like that on purpose?"

"Hm." John hums, pushing into Gale's hand. The chair rolls back a little, so he tightens the cradle of his legs around Gale's torso to stay in place. "Like what?"

"Like you wanted your dick sucked."

John closes his eyes as a wave of heat rolls down from the top of his head to his toes. "You have an oral fixation, I swear."

"Uh-huh." Gale just hums, his entire focus on John's cock now. He strokes his left hand over the bruises he sucked into the meat of John's right thigh, then he cups John's balls.

"Ah, fuck. You don’t even deny it."

Gale looks up at him from under his lashes as he leans forward. His body warm between John's thighs, his lips glistening.

"Why deny it?" He shrugs and kisses the tip of John's cock. Closing his eyes, he runs his pink tongue up the underside of it to the head, catching the drops of moisture beading there slowly from the torturous pleasure he inflicts on John's body. When John grunts, Gale looks at him again. There’s a playful glint in his eyes. "Be a good boy now, Bucky."

John puts his right hand back on Gale's head and presses his left fist to his mouth as hot, warm suction slides down his length and pulls his pleasure right out of his soul. Shadows pass behind the opaque glass of the door opposite him, people walking down the corridor. The star charts on the walls mirror the stars he sees behind his eyes as Gale sucks him leisurely, without a care in the world. No one walks into Astrophysics at four p.m. on a Friday, right? John prays, and squeezes his eyes shut against the pleasure as he thrusts into Gale's mouth.

He's gonna cancel his plans of going out and take Gale home again tonight.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

au where vaggie has another little secret she didn't even know was a secret still (spoiler it's Mortality) (spoiler charlie Isn't Happy) and when she sits down with charlie for a hotel talk it goees like (TRAUMATIC EMOTIONAL SPEED RUN AAAAHAHAHA)

Vaggie: "Alright sweetie, the hotel's going good so far, one soul redeemed, minimal fire damage this week, so we should probably start planning for the next hundred years of operations."

Charlie: "YAY!!! Planning planning planning~ What's first on the list??"

Vaggie: "Start looking for a replacement manager."

Charlie: "You don't wanna keep being manager? OH- we can be CO-FOUNDERS together! WE COULD HAVE A PARTY FOR IT! And plan for the next one too- Charlie and Vaggie's centennial wow the hotel is still here celebration...!"

Vaggie: "That's sweet, but I'll be dead by then either way, so we still need to deal with the staffing shortage before then."

Charlie: "....dead... tired?"

Vaggie: "Dead as in dead. Doornail style."

Charlie: "What?"

Vaggie: "Expired. Shit, when did we last check the hotel fridge..."

Charlie: "Vaggie wait, I'm, I'm not hearing you right, what are you saying?"

Vaggie: "Heaven born don't live forever? Especially not down in hell, turns out."

Charlie: "I don't understand."

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Sweetie, thanks for ignoring my eyebags and zombie groans while getting out of bed in the morning- but my wings are already GREY, for fuck's sake."

Charlie: "Yes they're, grey. Beautiful and- aren't they supposed to be-?"

Vaggie: "And I'm pretty sure it's not just from the stress of running a business for a few months. Being hotel manager isn't that hard."

Vaggie: "....Mostly. Compared to, some things...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Think anyone would believe that if we put it in the want ad?"

Charlie: "But-"

Vaggie: "No buts. We really need to get a head start on this."

Charlie: "....but you're a winner."

Vaggie: (SNORTS) "In my dating life, yeah. Anyway-"

Charlie: "But none of the other exorcists' wings are grey! So, so THEY aren't aging- so YOU aren't aging!!"

Vaggie: "They've got halos to protect them from the whole physically getting old thing-"

Charlie: "Halos???"

Vaggie: "-so we- they- can keep fit and ready for fighting our- THEIR whole lives, but duh we don't live forever. Lute and Adam left me here to die, not chill for all eternity."

Charlie: "Wh.. but-"

Vaggie: "Can you imagine how much heaven would've freaked if one of their actually immortal souls had gotten killed down here in hell...? But it was just one of us Adam's girls, and it was up to him to deal with it. With more murder. Bastard."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh.... Charlie?"

Charlie: "....your mortal?"

Vaggie: "I'm, yeah.... wait, Charlie..."

Vaggie: "...people know that about exorcists, right? You didn't... think heaven would risk putting winners in their rank and file army and send them down to hell?"

Charlie: "I thought you were a sinner."

Vaggie: "Hostia- right. I keep forgetting, they don't get old do they?"

Charlie: "Sinners don't. They get killed but they don't just. Die."

Vaggie: "I'm sorry. I thought- I really should've told you-"

Charlie: "Angels aren't supposed to die either."

Vaggie: "We did a good job proving that wrong. Exhibit A, Adam's corpse."

Charlie: "He was KILLED- it's not the same!"

Vaggie: "And angels aren't the same either. There's a lot of different kinds in creation- most of us aren't in the higher orders, there's waaaay more exorcists than seraphim."

Charlie: "But heaven is still supposed to be HEAVEN! People don't DIE in heaven! That wouldn't be Heaven! How could- how could it ever be HAPPY up there if, if- if people still left!?"

Vaggie: "Oh, sweetie... the only people who've earned a heaven like that are the winners. The rest of us are just-"

Charlie: "Just what? JUST, WHAT???"

Vaggie: "We're there to make heaven a good place for them. Keep it running smooth and safe. Mostly it's the higher ups who deal with winners personally, the rest of us stay back and stick to our jobs, try to keep some distance so no one... gets too attached... shit that sounded a lot less fucked up before I said it out loud-"

Vaggie: "Look- it's like that with hellborn too isn't it? The imps and hellhounds and-"

Charlie: "NO! YES? But this is HELL! Of course it hurts and isn't fair! You're not FROM hell it's not supposed to BE like that for you!"

Vaggie: "Or for my girlfriend."

Charlie: "I'm not the one who's dying!"

Vaggie: "You're kinda freaking-"

Charlie: "IM NOT FREAKING OUT!!"

Vaggie: "Right. I meant, you should've had more warning. I'm sorry I didn't say... I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Charlie: "WELL I WAS! And I'm not- we're not losing that."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "We're getting you your halo back."

Vaggie: "Pretty sure it's already been recycled-"

Charlie: "THEN WE'RE FINDING ONE FROM ONE OF THE DEAD EXORCISTS and you are WEARING IT until we FIX THIS."

Vaggie: "Sweetie- heaven collected all the halos from our battle-"

Charlie: "They didn't pick up all the spears and stuff, maybe they also missed-"

Vaggie: "No they wouldn't have. Halos aren't, they're not like the weapons. Heaven doesn't care if sinners kill each other with some left behind divine steel, but a halo? They store and conduct heavenly power or whatever. No one's gonna leave one of them lying around."

Charlie: "Fine. FINE- let me think-"

Vaggie: "Can we think less and focus more on you not shaking like a damn leaf first? C'mon, sit down-"

Charlie: "-the angel Carmilla killed. We'll use that one."

Vaggie: "We could use a deep breath right now."

Charlie: "It's head was missing when heaven picked up the body."

Vaggie: "Yeah? An Overlord probably has it hanging on their wall, big whoop, Charlie please slow down-"

Charlie: "If it's head was left behind then maybe it's halo was too! If we find the Overlord-"

Vaggie: "No. No more deals with Overlords."

Charlie: "I'll make as many damn deals with them as I want!"

Vaggie: "But not for ME, alright! If it's about me then you don't get to sell your fucking soul! Or bind it or whatever! You can't make me be the reason for that!"

Charlie: "Vaggie- we NEED that halo."

Vaggie: "No we don't. I don't."

Charlie: "You're dying without it!"

Vaggie: "I KNOW I am. But that's just, life!"

Charlie: "LIFE? Dying so soon isn't-!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, you're half seraphim. You mom was the original demon, your view on life expectancies is kinda skewed."

Charlie: "You said the halos let you live longer!"

Vaggie: "I said they keep us young. It's not the same thing."

Charlie: "It's still SOMETHING!"

Vaggie: "We don't even know that would help at this point, I've been in hell for years-"

Charlie: "Oh so we shouldn't even try!? Just, sit back and go 'well we haven't don't anything to stop this but I guess it was just completely unavoidable'-"

Vaggie: "It probably WON'T help. No, listen- It worked up in heaven and for short runs down here- that doesn't mean it'd have any power to draw on in hell. It's probably just a fancy looking hoop down here."

Charlie: "Then we'll get you back to heaven until we can make it work."

Vaggie: "I'm not going back to fucking heaven!"

Charlie: "AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU STAY HERE AND DIE!"

Vaggie: "You can't kick me out- this is OUR hotel, not just yours."

Charlie: "YOU- you-"

Vaggie: "We need. To calm down."

Charlie: "CALM DOWN! Every second you spend down here your body is-"

Vaggie: "Not dying anytime soon, okay? I'm fine. This whole talk has gone way too far way, way to fast. That's my fault for not thinking about all this sooner, but. Just. Take a breath. Let's just take a breath, take a break, and come back to this when we're both had a moment."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "Did you plan all this."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Owning the hotel together. Making sure you couldn't be forced out of hell."

Vaggie: "That's not why we started the hotel-"

Charlie: "No, that's not what I was thinking when we started it. But were you?"

Vaggie: "Charlie... you're connecting dots that aren't there..."

Charlie: "You're here. You're here and dying and don't want to leave."

Vaggie: "I'd be dying up in heaven too."

Charlie: "But your wings wouldn't already be GREY, would they?"

Vaggie: "They'd still be an exorcist's wings, if I'd never left-"

Charlie: "Well they're not anymore and going back wouldn't change that. All it would do is help you stay alive."

Vaggie: "I don't want that life."

Charlie: "It's that or die."

Vaggie: "You're being dramatic-"

Charlie: "You've always said you liked that about me. Was that a lie too?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "Do you want to die, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Of course I don't- I could've just let Lute-"

Charlie: "Die, not be killed. Does it make you feel better about all the people you've killed? You'll die and join them, sooner rather than later?"

Vaggie: "......."

Vaggie: "... I want. To spend my life. With you."

Charlie: "No you don't." (voice cracking) "You can't do that when you're dead."

Vaggie: "That's not my fault."

Charlie: "Your choice though, right?"

Vaggie: "It’s not same thing-"

Charlie: "Yes it is. You want to be one who leaves."

Vaggie: "....... wouldn't you?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I don't.... want it to b- be like this."

Vaggie: "I know."

Charlie: "I want US! Not like this."

Vaggie: "I know, sweetie, I know... I'm so sorry-"

Charlie: "Stop it." (muffled in vaggie's hair) "You don't want this either, stop apologizing for it!"

Vaggie: "... I shouldn't have let you think, it could be different."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "It will be."

Vaggie: "Okay. Denial, that's a, normal step in-"

Charlie: "No- It WILL BE. I- We going to- we'll MAKE it different."

Vaggie: "I don't think we can..."

Charlie: "We will."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "Damnit just trust me! If we can save a sinner's soul, then we can f-fucking save you."

Vaggie: "....."

Charlie: "Please, Vaggie. Can we try?"

Vaggie: "...it'll be a waste of time."

Charlie: "No it won't."

Vaggie: "We're already not gonna have forever together, sweetie. Why not just. Enjoy what we do have?"

Charlie: "I will! We will."

Charlie: "But we're going to have longer than one century for it."

Vaggie: "Half that, maybe..."

Charlie: "That's not the sound of trying. Vaggie. Please."

Vaggie: "...well... if you're gonna look at me like that about it..."

Charlie: "Don't joke about this."

Vaggie: "I'm not." (smile) "I just know better than to doubt Charlie Morningstar when she gets an idea into her cute, stubborn head."

Charlie: "All my head needs right now is an answer. One word. Clear. Honest."

Vaggie: "... alright. Yes. We can try."

Charlie: "Thank you." (kiss) "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vaggie: "But you have to promise me. No deals. No selling souls- not for my sake, not even a little bit. Got it?"

Charlie: "Why are you so strict about this-"

Vaggie: "Because it's your soul."

Charlie: "-people make deals all the time! YOU made one with-"

Vaggie: "And it creeped me out even though it wasn't with my soul. Do you promise?"

Charlie: "This is a heaven thing isn't it?"

Vaggie: "Do you promise."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "I won't make, deals with anyone in hell, to save you."

Vaggie: (breathes out) "Then... we'll start by talking to Carmilla tomorrow."

Charlie: "TOMORROW!? But that-"

Vaggie: "Will give us time to figure out what we actually wanna SAY to Carmilla. She's still an Overlord, Charlie. Any info we give her she'll want to sure to keep her family safe first."

Charlie: "I know the fucking feeling..."

Vaggie: "So we're slowing this down and doing things carefully, so we do them right. Right?"

Charlie: "Right." (grumbling) "Fools rush in- blah blah BLAH."

Vaggie: "That's my girl."

Vaggie: (hesitates) (tentative smooch)

Vaggie: "Feeling better?"

Charlie: "Fine. I wish you'd stop asking ME that."

Vaggie: "Just glad you're not shaking so much anymore. Kinda scared me for a second."

Charlie: "I'm fine." (sighs) (hugs vaggie) "I didn't mean..."

Vaggie: "I didn't mean to scare you, too."

Charlie: "It's fine. You'll be okay."

Vaggie: "Mm. Already am."

Charlie: "And we're NOT looking for a replacement hotel manager."

Vaggie: "We're gonna need-"

Charlie: "NO."

Vaggie: "-okay. We'll hold off on it. We've got time."

Charlie: (holds her closer) (glares at distant light of heaven)

[jtl-fics]

I just keep thinking about a silly little like one-shot scenario of sometime during the course of Neil and Andrew being at Palmetto there being a graduation requirement where Neil has to be a TA for one of the like lower level math courses, or a teacher asks him to be a TA since he had such an excellent grasp on the subject material.

And per most colleges in the United States of America there are a lot of classes you have to take just for your General Education.

Guess who had been putting off taking his Gen-Ed for Math?

Andrew Minyard.

Guess who is signed up for Neil's class since he just let his advisor pick it for him?

Andrew Minyard.

Guess who hears his classmates giggling about his boyfriend and talking about going to Neil's office hours to try and get a date with one of their schools campus hotties?

Andrew Minyard.

Andrew never misses a class and certainly never an office hour. He doesn't need to ask Neil anything but he is always there. He has no doubt that Neil would fail to recognize any attempt to flirt with him and that Neil only has eyes for him. It is more that Neil is so unaware of people's attraction to him that he sometimes doesn't realize when people are going too far.

It was already bad enough that he had to give his phone number out to everyone in the class in case they had questions. Plenty of people reaching out with questions that DID NOT PERTAIN TO STATS 1000.

Andrew walks out of the Stats class with an A+ with extra credit and his own offer to be a TA but declines.

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Now that I think so, how would the relationship between ta!Ash and N be? They both can understand pokemons but also have different points of view.

It’s a little different, during the time in Unova, Ash has barely been getting a proper grasp with his aura, so it’s a hit or miss sometimes with the different dialect, but he’s trying!

And while Ash isn’t actually a TA during this time, he’s just a foreign trainer with quite a bit of Life experience. More than N, himself.

It helps that Ash is patient with N when explaining things, and even when he gets frustrated, he lets Pikachu take over. Ash is pretty decent with letting N have his opinions, and is really firm with N about how he won’t change his own views to appease N.

It’s a lot of N trying to figure Ash out, but he’s slowly being sucked in and eventually he’ll be seeing Ash’s views a little more positively

[incorrect-dungeon-meshi]

Laois: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Falin: Prettiest Smile.

Marcille: Nicest Personality.

Chilchuck: Most likely to start a bar fight.

Senshi: Least likely to start a bar fight but most likely to win one.