#he’d probably make a dinosaur or like a shark

[yourfavreggie]

I cannot get over the fact that Pandora and Barty would totally have pottery sessions that they’d do together. Like they would just sit there together listening to music making silly little figures and vase’s and stuff

Pandora: *peacefully sitting there humming to the music while she makes a vase for her flowers*

Barty: *violently squishes his own vase he was making* mwahahaha

[asher-agere]

;0c mm,, ftm akiwto hcz..? Dwoll kwinz him adn nu kno if anywne dne thiz ywet

I LOVE TRANS AKITO. He is like the golden example of a dysphoria jacket… Also I asked Ren specifically and this is a request for Flip Akito! Even though it wasn’t mentioned in the request hehe. Just to clear up confusion!

Flip Transmasc Akito

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⋆ We’ll start with caregiver Akito! Since I literally just posted little headcanons for him hehe. I think Akito would be a really protective caregiver! He’s always trying to have contact with his little one in some way, holding their hand, carrying them, having them sit in his lap. He just wants a point of contact to help him keep an eye on them!

⋆ Being transgender can teach you rejection really really well, it’s not a fun feeling. So he always tries extra hard to make sure his baby never has to feel that way! He always tries to make sure they regress in private to avoid judgment, and when telling anyone new about their regression Akito will volunteer himself to be thrown under the bus at any point to avoid his baby feeling rejected

⋆ Sometimes caregivers can have bad days too! There’s days where Akito feels so gross and feminine. But that doesn’t always mean he wants to regress! He usually avoids hugs due to chest dysphoria, or just in general holding his baby to his chest, but he’ll happily lay their head on his lap or let them rest on his shoulder! He’ll play with their hair and rub their scalp, or he’ll massage their palms and shoulders. Still giving affection! Just not in all the ways he usually does

⋆ He loves any kind of masculine nicknames! Any form of “Dada” or “Big Bro” it has definitely made him cry before! He obviously reassured his little one that they were good tears! Just being referred to in a masculine way with something so fragile and domestic like age regression… He gets a little emotional sometimes ok? It’s not a big deal!

⋆ He always has hoodies and jackets to give his little one! He has plenty of dysphoria hoodies, and he’s happy to share the ones he’s not using! I think he’d have one he like always wears, whatever one is best for hiding his chest, that he rarely lets the baby wear. But if he does let them wear it they have to be prepared for him to ask for it back at a moments notice! When it comes to his hoodie, he’s the priority. But that doesn’t mean no sharing it at all!

⋆ Time for baby Akito! When he’s regressed all his emotions feel so much more overwhelming. So some mild dysphoria can suddenly feel like it’s devouring him whole. He’ll bury himself under blankets to hide his body. It can be over 100 degrees outside and he’ll bury under blankets. This also definitely leads to him hating summer, and his caregiver is definitely expected to know that and should have the AC running at all times! It’s the only way to avoid him overheating

⋆ I will never stop talking about regressed Akito playing soccer! If he’s trans then probably it was rough as a kid with gendered teams, so he’d love playing with a caregiver where he’s accepted as a boy and able to play! Sports are stereotypically seen as a boy thing, so it can actually help with dysphoria to go outside and kick around the ball! If he’s falls he wants a cool ‘boy’ bandaid! Something with like, dinosaurs! Or sharks! He’ll get so happy and giggly looking at them!

⋆ Usually Akito is a pretty mouthy kiddo! He loves to babble or talk back to his caregiver, but if he’s feeling dysphoric for any reason that definitely won’t be happening. His voice will always sound too feminine to him, he’s trained it for hours each day, for years at this point. People recognize his voice as masculine, but he’ll always hear it as feminine. Gentle praise is appreciated! But his caregiver should never ever push him to talk, he doesn’t want to so don’t make him, or it will end in a meltdown. And the crying just makes him hate his voice even more

⋆ Speaking of crying, Akito thinks he’s got the tough guy act mastered! (His caregiver is well aware that he does not) Akito will cry over a lot of stuff, for example if he sees a dog outside? He’s a bawling mess. They’re so scary ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა But he’ll constantly claim he’s a tough guy! He never cries! Boys don’t cry! The boys don’t cry reasoning is so not healthy, but he doesn’t mention it in the moment of crying, and he’d never make fun of anyone else for crying, so that’s something that’s sort of better to just let go…

⋆ Akito isn’t very clingy when he’s regressed I don’t think? He wants to run around! And play! But usually he’s okay with being picked up, especially as he gets sleepy (Even though he claims to never get tired). However dysphoria turns being held into a big glowing TANTRUM button. He feels gross! And if his caregiver picks him up then they’d feel his gross girl body! Options are to either hold his hand and let him walk, or maybe even to put him in some kind of stroller! (An office chair with wheels works great too)

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I’m back at it guys! (Hopefully) Idk why I haven’t been posting as much- I’ve been busy? Home life is chaos. But soon my aunt will be visiting and teaching me to make a dessert from my childhood! Super wonderhoy yay!

[blessyourhondahurley]

Five Time Cas Was the Most, and One Time Dean Was

Destiel Month prompts: 5+1 / Halo Random word: monstrous 

(Read on AO3)

Dean is six. It's his first day of first grade – his first full day of real school. “No more half days like the kindergarten babies,” he'd told his little brother Sammy last night while he was excitedly packing his backpack, like he wasn't a kindergarten baby himself three months ago.

The morning has been a lot.  Special first-day pancakes and a noisy bus ride, finding his new classroom and the desk with his name on it, meeting the other kids and learning all the class rules. Dean has been on his best behavior just like he'd promised Mommy he would be, but he's not used to being on his best behavior for such a long time. So he's super happy when Mrs. Mills lines them up and leads them outside for recess.

The playground is full of noise and color and about a million other kids. Some of the sixth graders are  almost as tall as his Daddy. Everybody's running around and yelling and throwing balls and chasing each other, and all of a sudden Dean wants to go home, where Mommy is probably making a PB&J with the crusts cut off for Sammy and getting ready to watch her stories.

He feels his eyes start to sting, but he's not gonna cry like a kindergarten baby, at least not where anyone can see him. He looks around for somewhere to go where no one's gonna smash into him, and he notices a small figure standing alone in the grass by the tetherball poles.

When he gets closer, he recognizes his classmate Cas. Cas has the desk next to Dean's, and Dean likes the cool dinosaur shirt he's wearing today.

“Hi, Cas,” he says with a wave.

“Hello, Dean,” comes the reply. Cas has a nice smile. It makes Dean want to smile too, when he sees it. It's nicer over here, off to the side, on the grass. Quieter. Dean feels a lot better over here with Cas.

“Whatcha doin'?”

“Watching the bees. Did you know bees have five eyes?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and they dance to tell each other where the flowers are!”

Thinking about dancing bees makes Dean giggle. They take turns making up funny bee dances, and Cas tells Dean a lot of cool stuff about bees and cats and dinosaurs and fish and all kinds of things.

Cas is the smartest kid Dean's ever met.

~~~~~~~~~

Today for show and tell Dean lets everyone see inside his mouth, where one of his grown-up teeth is poking up behind a baby tooth, “like a shark's tooth!” He tells them that he's leaving school early today to go to the dentist, because the baby tooth isn't getting loose like it should. “So Dr. Garth is gonna take the baby tooth out so the grown-up tooth has more room!” he explains proudly.

Dr. Garth had made the whole thing sound so simple when Dean went in to see him last week. He's excited for his appointment today, and for the special ice cream sundae he's gonna go get with his Mommy and Sammy afterwards. He stops being excited and starts feeling like he's gonna throw up after stupid Cole raises his hand and tells everyone how his brother had to get a tooth pulled out and it hurt real bad and Dr. Garth yelled at him and there was blood everywhere and he cried after he got home even though he's a big boy cuz it hurt so much.

Mrs. Mills tells Cole that maybe that story's something he can save for another day, but it's too late. Dean doesn't wanna go to the dentist any more. He wants to keep his shark tooth, and he doesn't even want a special ice cream sundae, not if he's gonna be crying and bleeding all over the place while he's trying to eat it. All of a sudden friendly Dr. Garth seems monstrous, like a dangerous beast lying in wait for him. Dean is for sure gonna throw up.

At the desk next to him, Cas raises his hand. When Mrs. Mills calls on him, he levels a glare at Cole.

“I got a baby tooth pulled out last summer and it didn't hurt at all. Dr. Garth is really nice and really careful, and maybe Cole is just making up a story to be scary for no reason like a big dumb assbutt.”

Cas gets in trouble for calling Cole a rude word and has to stay inside for recess that day, but later they sit together at lunch and Cas tells Dean not to be scared, and just like that Dean isn't scared any more. It's like some of Cas's courage comes out of him and goes right into Dean, and it's okay because Dean knows there's still a lot of courage left in his friend.

Cas is the bravest boy in the whole world.

~~~~~~~~~

Dean never has anything in his lunchbox except a sandwich. Other kids bring in stuff like cookies and little bags of chips and big shiny apples and cups of pudding and sometimes even candy bars, but Mommy says they can't afford to buy all that stuff right now. She says she's really sorry and Dean knows she means it and he knows she's trying her best, so he always tells her he loves her and that it's okay, he doesn't mind. He doesn't tell her how his tummy growls after lunch sometimes, how a sandwich isn't enough to keep him full all day.

He never tells Cas any of that, either. But a few days after they start eating lunch together Cas's lunchbox is all of a sudden full of snacks and treats and fruit – enough for both of them. They share everything, and they even trade halves of their sandwiches to mix and match. Dean's tummy doesn't growl after lunch any more.

Cas is the nicest person Dean knows.

~~~~~~~~~

Dean isn't bothered by all the noise on the playground any more like he was on his first day, but those big sixth graders are still kind of scary. One day a couple of them start teasing Dean for wearing a purple shirt, telling him he must be a girl because purple's a girl's color. Dean knows that's dumb and wrong. Colors are just colors, and he likes his purple shirt, and anyway who cares if he's a girl? Girls are cool. But the big kids are so big and so loud, he can't get any of his words out. It's like his mouth is stuck shut. He stands there, wishing for the recess bell to hurry up and ring so they'll go away.

Then there's a body between him and his tormentors. It's Cas, hands on his hips, and Cas has no problem getting his words out. He tells those big boys to leave his friend alone. He says Dean can wear any color he wants. He yells at those boys for being mean and then he kicks them both in the shins so hard even Dean winces.

Cas gets in trouble for fighting and has to stay inside for recess the next three days. The sixth graders don't bother Dean again, even when he wears his purple shirt. Dean gets his Mommy to help him make Cas a thank you card with glitter on it and a picture of a bee (but he doesn't tell his Mommy why because she might not like knowing that Dean was getting picked on). When Dean gives it to him Cas hugs him so hard all the breath whooshes out of his chest.

Cas is the strongest kid in their class.

~~~~~~~~~

For Valentine's Day the whole class spends the morning cutting lopsided hearts out of pink construction paper. There's a list on the board of every name in the class and they each have to make a heart for each name. In the afternoon they hang big envelopes from the front of their desks and everyone walks around playing post office, matching the names scrawled on their creations to the names on the folders. When nobody's watching, Dean puts an extra heart in Cas's folder. He got his Mommy to help him make it last night, and it's got a sticker of a kitty on it and lots and lots of glitter. It says I LUV YOU on it in sparkly letters. It's real pretty, but not as pretty as Cas.

Cas is the prettiest boy Dean's ever met.

~~~~~~~~~

The night they graduate from high school, after commencement is over and their families are done hugging them and kissing them and fussing over them, Dean and Cas get in Dean's car and drive out to their special spot. They hit a drive-thru on the way there, and they sit side by side on the hood of the Impala in their good suits, sharing their fries and watching the stars come out. Dean puts his arm around Cas, and Cas snuggles up against him like he belongs there, because he does. They talk about school, about all the years they've known each other, and they talk about the future. Dean goes to full time at the garage next week. Cas is taking a full load of summer classes at the community college. They're both going to KU in the fall.

With the moon hanging over them like a penny in the sky, Dean kisses his boyfriend and asks him if he's ready for this, for everything to change. Cas replies that the most important things are staying the same. Then he pulls a ring out of his pocket.

“It's just a promise for now,” he says. “We're too young to get married yet. But I know I will marry you someday. I've loved you since I was six years old, and I will love you until the day I die.”

The ring fits perfectly.

Dean is the luckiest guy in the world.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hello. What about a villain SO who adores animals for Captain Hook, Hades, Dr. Facilier, Bill Cipher, Beetlejuice, and Jafar? Thank you hun😊🍯

Hope you like these ^^

~~~

Beetlejuice:

·         I wouldn’t put it past him to make one or two beastiality jokes…

·         But apart from that, he doesn’t half mind animals either! (And he finds it endearing to see you playing with them, not that he cares to identify at all the warm, soothing feeling in his chest when he sees you boop your nose against a tortoise’s.) He’d love a dog, or… a tiger. A dinosaur would be ideal.

·         But actually, its animals that tend to have a problem with him.

·         Cuz of course animals are a lot more sensitive than humans tend to be to ghosts, and demons, and souls. And his soul is pretty damn mucky. BJ has met exactly zero animal’s so far (Since his death) that haven’t taken an immediate dislike of him. They hiss at him, or growl, or try to wriggle away even if they aren’t being held by him; Just nearby to him.

·         He scares them because they can feel his evil and want nothing to do with it.

·         So your dreams of adopting a dog with your new ghostie bf will need to be put on a back burner. Maybe he can lasso a sandworm and y’all can name her Rose and she can be your pet? He absolutely does not want you to be sad because of him!!

Bill Cipher:

·         “ooOOH, what kind? Anglerfish? Clown fish? Sharks? Lobsters? Giant Squid? Wolffish? The Textile Cone Snail’s native to the Red Sea, Indian Ocean and Oceania waters? Octopus? Lock Ness Monster? Mermaids? Shrimp? Koi? M E G A L A D O N S? OH OH- THE KRAKEN?”

·         “Wow, that was a lotta underwater stuff. I mean, yeah, they’re all great but also land animals and birds… And I don’t think all those are actually real?”

·         “Heheh, that’s what you think… “His body loses its colour and becomes like a Bill Shaped screen, like he does sometimes when he’s brainstorming, and you just catch a picture of somewhere under the ocean and a beautiful, purple tale flapping out of the picture and a flash of soft, human skin just above it. Your eyes blow wide open. “Y/N, remember 80 percent of the ocean is unexplored.”

·         SO, yeah. Bill’s really into underwater creatures. It is the most mysterious part of earth and in it lives some of the world’s freakiest creatures.

·         He’ll install a whole aquarium in your house out of excitement, and inside? Nothing but angler fish, giant squids to watch you while you sleep and beautifully coloured sea snails climbing up the glass walls.

·         Land animals though and birds? Very little interest. Birds get points only for being close to dinosaurs (You ask about reptiles in that case and his eye inverts in its colouring. His ‘skin’ goes red. “Those jerks know what they did.”), but still he’d much rather talk about star fish! Get ready to be more educated about the ocean’s weirdest creatures and mysterious happenings then you ever wanted to be.

Captain Hook:

·         He has very confused feelings about this- especially when you act so chummy with Tik Tok who, naturally, loves you and your T-Bone steak snacks.

·         On one hand, if you’re feeding Tik Tok then Tik Tok probably won’t feel the need or be able, to eat him.

·         But on the other- bEtrAyER! How could you feed and love that monster, that has plagued his life for years and made his existence a living hell?

·         But then again, the fact that Tik Tok is now often too full to bother with him rears its head again and he calms down.

·         Because of this, its typical that he says nothing when you have animals around (Any animal. They all remind him of Tik Tok. Scales, fur, or feather). He’ll want to. Gosh, the need to speak will overflow in his throat and he’ll take a deep breath- … but then no words come out. He forces it down. Because he can’t mention his dislike without mentioning his relief also, so speaking at all would really just make you confused and feel bad and leave him frustrated because he doesn’t know how either of you could change to make this better for anyone, so its just not worth it.  

·         So then he just walks away.

·         Its pretty humorous to see, actually. Because he’s just all grumpy and slouching off, maybe shaking his head and muttering, and you’re all wide eyed and confused. Holding, like, a budgie or a snake or something.

·         The other pirates are keeping a tally.

·         Bonus point: He’s not scared (Or allergic) of any other animals apart from Tik Tok, so you don’t have to worry about him being skittish or anything.

Dr Facilier:

·         Frogs are a difficult subject for him so enjoy amphibian cuties somewhere that he is not, please. Also rabbits- there was an incident before you came along that he does not speak of.

·         Other then that, Facilier is basically a normal person about animals. He can appreciate a nice zoo visit every now and then and pet the odd dog or cat but with you in his life he never wants to go to a zoo again. And he’s bored as hell by everyday pets.

·         But he won’t tell you he’s sick of all the animals. Nay, nay. Its one of those things where you love the person, so you put up with the crazy/annoying shit they love. Like ‘Yes, yes. Very interesting, cher… ‘ when you talk about it, while he’s actually reading the newspaper and he hasn’t heard anything you said. After all, you stay quiet when he’s plotting or cackling over something he did to a victim that day. Its only fair.

·         He is fascinated, though, when he’s just watching you (Sometimes he just sits back and observes you doing your thing. Its relaxing for him) and he notices little quirks you’ve picked up from various creatures. Like the way you curl up when you’re lying down on the couch and how you shrink back from things that happened to surprise you, similar to a big cat. Your eyes are focused like a wild animal, too. Very cute.

·         Lots of animal-themed nicknames.

Hades:

·         “You know, some tell me I’m a kinda animal, babe… “He wiggles his eyebrows at you over his mug of whatever-he-drinks (You fear asking, after watching him eat a bowl of worms), offering his best (And funniest) bedroom eyes to you.

·         “Yes, but are you as cute as this snake Hades?? Are you?? Look into these eyes and tell me this snek is not as cute as you are.” You lift the little grass snake gently from the table and onto your arm, letting him wrap its body around you and lift his head to look around; Checking out what’s up. He was getting his scales stroked good; Why has it stopped?  

·         “Pfft,” Hades rolls his eyes, returning to the chess board in front of him (He likes to play both sides and challenge himself).

·         Okay so, Hades can take or leave most animals. But it’s so cute that you love them, so he lets you keep them around. Whatever animals you like (Don’t worry, you also have the proper equipment and enclosures for them, and Hades makes another God, who is an expert on all things animals, come by whenever you have a question), and however many you like. I mean, what’s the good of being a God if you can’t spoil yourself and your preciously excited, human significant other?

·         So you have, like, Reptiles at the west end of his underworld castle, nocturnal animals on the east, more pet-type animals like dogs and cats and rabbits in the living area part of the castle, etc.

·         The animals give Pain and Panic a hugely hard time, which Hades thinks is a great bonus to doing this for you.

·         He really loves it when you call him and yourself the animal’s parents. Yes, call me Daddy, babes. Its fine by me!

Jafar:

·         Oh my god, the disdain in his voice when he looks from you, practically bouncing on the heels of your feet and to the fluffy white kitty you’ve gently shoved in his hands- which he holds at nearly a full arm’s length away from him. “Eugh. Really?”

·         “What’s wrong! ? Isn’t she the cutest?”

·         “She’ll get fur everywhere.”

·         “Oh, that’s rich… “You say, side eye-ing Iago, who’s making a face at the cat from Jafar’s other shoulder. “Iago stress moults- and you stress him out all the time!”

·         A dramatic, offended gasp erupts from one of the two males (Not gonna tell you who). “It is aesthetically pleasing mess!”

·         So basically if the animal doesn’t speak a language he understands, he doesn’t care for it. You’re going to be fighting him on this for the rest of your life, Y/N. (Or his. I mean, I heard evil double crossing sorcerer vizier’s are dying at an accelerated rate these days. Hm, mysterious.).

[witchygirl99]

finding a photo of your enemy as a toddler, inukag

Ask, and you shall receive.

1800 words under the cut. Not edited. Written at work so it was a shoddy rush job and everything is very vague and you'll just have to accept this.

I'll write a proper, better video gamer AU one day. For now though...

Won't You Say (You Love Me, Too)

The thing is—

The thing is that Inuyasha isn’t meant to be here. Sure, he’s a little drunk. And sure, Koga’s stupid face dared him, because Koga is both stupid, has a face, and that face is stupid. Inuyasha didn’t have to listen, though. Inuyasha could have done a billion other things, like walk away, or laugh the dare off, or – or – could have even gotten himself another drink.

That… That would have been the smarter plan.

Inuyasha hiccups, flinching at the noise. He is so not supposed to be here.

“Inuyasha,” stupid Koga hisses from below. It’s probably supposed to be a whisper. It’s not. It’s like…quieter yelling, but yelling nonetheless.

Haughtily, Inuyasha glares down at his teammate. The window that he’s jimmied open to break into the Priestess House is still open. It’s unseasonably warm for an autumn night, but it’s strangely comforting. At least, Inuyasha thinks so. That could just be the alcohol talking, though.

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, “what do you see?”

He blinks, frowns, and then squints into the dark room. There’s not a ton of illumination from either the moon, or the streetlights. He thinks, dimly, that this is a…bedroom? A bedroom. This is not, in fact, the office that they thought they were breaking into.

[Read the rest below the cut.]

He takes in a deep breath, brain pinging at him worriedly. He knows this scent. It’s familiar. Too familiar. Inuyasha should know whose room he’s in and it’s on the tip of his tongue – his nose? No, that’s not a saying – when Koga makes another hissing sound.

Ugh.

“What?” Inuyasha snarls, so desperate to glare out the window at his stupid teammate and at said stupid teammate’s face that he nearly stumbles. Bracing himself on the little table underneath, he makes a point to roll his eyes when the wolf demon waves alarmingly at him. “What is so urgent that you need to—”

“I hear them,” Koga whisper-yells, because he’s stupid. “They’re just down the street.”

“What?” he exclaims, but this time it’s desperate rather than irritated. “I thought Miroku said the girls would be gone for at least an hour.”

“Well, his intel is shit,” Koga replies. “Now get out!”

So much for sneaking into their offices to find out if any of their playing strategies would be visible. The regional gaming tournament is only two days away, and every single member of the six-person Priestess team has been dominating the competition. Their battle strategies have taken weaker characters and turned them into something surprisingly efficient. It should be impossible. Character stats don’t lie.

And yet. And yet. The women of the Priestess House have made a mockery of nearly everyone there. And the worst of them?

Kagome Higurashi. The absolute bane of his existence. She came onto the scene about three years ago, rising up the ranks. Inuyasha hadn’t even given her a second thought until The Incident last year.

The Incident, in which she—

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, like an angry cat. A cat. Not a wolf. Inuyasha should tell him this. Inuyasha is desperate to tell him this. “You need to jump out the window, you fuck.”

Right. The Priestess girls were coming back. Kagome would be with them and that would be— That would be bad. Not just because of the breaking and entering, or the trespassing. It would be bad because Inuyasha would have to be around her for likely more than a minute, which would mean that he’d have to stare into those dark eyes and that too-kind smile – like they’re friends, which they are not – and then—

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to leave you,” Koga states, and that finally drills through Inuyasha’s pretty drunk skull. Can skulls be drunk?

No?

Maybe.

“I’m coming,” Inuyasha replies, pushing upwards, but he’s an idiot. The table underneath him isn’t that sturdy, and so his pressure on it to climb back out the window from which he entered sends a picture frame crashing to the ground.

“Inuyasha!”

“Oh my god, say my name one more time and I will murder you!” Inuyasha snaps. Koga is not helping, that fucking fuck. “Hold the fuck on, we can’t let them know—” And he bends down to grab the frame and put it back. Hopefully whoever’s room this is won’t notice.

And then he sees the picture in the frame, practically mocking him. It’s fucking Kagome Higurashi, no more than four years old and clinging to a small baby who looks distinctly unhappy by the entire experience. It’s undoubtedly her. While there’s more chub to her cheeks, those are the same sparkling eyes and that’s the same beaming smile. He would know that smile anywhere because it always makes him feel off-balance, confused. No one just smiles at people, at strangers. No one just smiles at you while they’re getting destroyed in one-on-one battle, and then shakes your hand with that same happy smile when they’ve lost. They don’t use that exact same smile when they see you again later in the year, at another tournament, and only stop smiling when they beat you so badly—

Oh god.

Oh fucking god.

This is Kagome’s bedroom. This is Kagome’s bedroom and he’s in her room and—

Kagome Higurashi at four years old smiles the exact same way, and she’s clinging to a little boy and that’s a big purple dinosaur right beside her on the couch. A dinosaur. She likes dinosaurs, oh god this is the worst—

“Godspeed, fucker,” Koga whispers-yells. “We hardly knew ye!” There’s the distinct sound of bushes rustling. His own teammate has abandoned him. Inuyasha is going to commit murder.

Firmly putting down the picture frame, Inuyasha starts the careful climb back out the window. He’s got one leg out, half of his body strained to reach the little lip in the brickwork he climbed up earlier. His hands grab at the sill, twisting him, and then he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

It’s on her bed, perfectly placed and disgustingly cute.

“Oh no,” Inuyasha groans, and then promptly shoves himself out the window. It takes him ten precious seconds to balance, and then another ten seconds to close the window and hide the fact he ever broke in in the first place. At the first sound of voices, Inuyasha freezes against the brick, propped up in a little corner and distinctly not looking down. It’s not a far drop, but the last thing Inuyasha needs is to lose his balance, topple into the garden, and then have the Priestess women come running to see what the fuck happened.

He waits, breath nearly held, until they start opening the door. There’s enough fuss and discussion that Inuyasha feels safe in making his escape, running away like the hounds of hell are chasing him. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look back.

When he finds Koga, lounging on the couch and drinking yet another beer at their shared gaming house, it takes a solid ten seconds of very slow counting to remind himself that murder is bad.

Besides, they have a tournament to win on Saturday.

X+X

The next day, Inuyasha finds himself looking for purple dinosaurs on Amazon.

This is, well, not ideal.

“What are you doing?” Hachi asks, eyes narrowed in confusion and then widening in concern when Inuyasha flinches to hide this embarrassing lack of restraint. “Wow, okay.”

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha replies, but he’s too mortified to even make it mean-sounding. He just comes off as pathetic.

There’s a snort in the doorway, and Miroku comes bumbling in with a clipboard. He takes his duties as team manager far too seriously. “What did Hachi do wrong now?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hachi replies, eyeing Inuyasha again. “He’s the one that went all crazy when I asked him what he was doing.”

“And what was he doing?” Miroku presses. He’s grinning like a fool because he’s the worst. The worst best friend a guy could ask for. Inuyasha doesn’t know why he’s teammates with these idiots. It’s bad enough he’s got to deal with Koga.

“I wasn’t do anything,” he tries, but Hachi’s just shaking his head.

“Looking at his phone. I don’t know.”

Miroku turns to him, a shark that smells blood in the water. “Your phone? Who are you texting?”

“No one,” Inuyasha scoffs. “Fuck off.”

This gets a nod, and he has one moment of hope that Miroku won’t push the issue when his best friend hums. “You’re right. You have no friends outside of this team.”

“I’m not his friend!” Koga yells from somewhere else in the house.

Inuyasha sighs.

“So you must have been watching something.”

“No,” Hachi argues, “he was holding his phone like this. He was reading something, or maybe scrolling?”

“Inuyasha can’t read!” comes Koga’s voice again. They all ignore him.

“You’re not on Instagram,” Miroku hums, playing fucking Sherlock Holmes. “And you’re definitely not on TikTok. Discord is just another form of talking to people, so that’s out.”

Growling, he shoves his phone in the pocket of hoodie and gets up. “I am leaving.”

“Ooh, he’s leaving,” his friend continues, blue eyes alight with something dangerously close to glee. “Fuck, it has to be about Kagome then. That’s the only time you get this pissy.”

“Ha!” Hachi laughs because he, too, is the worst.

“That’s my future wife!” Koga yells from the other room, but that’s just because he’s delusional. As if someone like Koga could fucking rub two braincells together enough to impress her. Inuyasha’s face does a thing at the very thought.

“Oh my god, it is!” Miroku cackles.

“No,” Inuyasha answers, and he thinks he does a pretty good job of remaining calm. “But fuck you, anyways.”

“Are you reading her Wikitubia again?” his friend asks and that is it—

“One time!” Inuyasha yells, storming away from the main room. “That was one time!”

His teammates’ laughter follows him all the way back to his bedroom. Shippo, rubbing at his eyes after his nap – because he acts like a literal child, it’s embarrassing – just stares at him confusedly. “What did I miss?”

Inuyasha doesn’t stop walking. “Absolutely fucking nothing.” He gets into his room, shuts the door with a disturbing amount of care, and then leaps onto his bed to try and suffocate himself with a pillow. The walls of their gaming house aren’t that thick. If he tries hard enough, Inuyasha could hear the shit they’re undoubtedly still talking about him.

One time, Inuyasha pathetically whines in his head. He was only caught staring at her Wikitubia page one time. He was sizing up the enemy. Looking for weaknesses to exploit. That’s the only reason he did it. Just like that’s the only reason he watches her YouTube videos religiously, at least once a day, and always at night once everyone else has fallen asleep.

It’s not because of anything weird. It’s because she’s the enemy. She’s the competition. Inuyasha must figure out a way to destroy her.

Later that night, when he goes back to re-watching an old YouTube video of hers – one Kagome had posted within the first month of her rise to so-called fame – that he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

Sitting propped up on some pillows, like a prized treasure.

“Motherfucker,” Inuyasha snaps. He doesn’t stop the video, though. There could be secrets. Weaknesses to exploit. Yadda yadda yadda, he’s not in denial, this is only his third time watching it, blah blah—

Kagome smiles in the video and his chest does the thing.

Inuyasha sighs. Miroku can never, ever see his browsing history.

X+X

Tagging: @ideasthatbuildcities​ @wolfcry77​ @alerialblu​ @misspepperpottss​ @sailorbabydoll92​ @willowandfog​ @amethystablaze​ @fawn-eyed-girl​ @noyourenotreal​ @hnn-wnchstr​ @liz8080​ @nsr0716​ @superpixie42​ @itzatakahashi​ @mandirox89​ @inussunflower​ @cstormsinukagblog​ @nartista​ @hopidoodle​ @princessinume​ @lavendertwilight89​ @anxietyaardvark​ @omgitscharlie​ @theinuyashareader​ @ruddcatha​ @umacaking​ @kagometaishostory​ @cammysansstuff​ @sacred-arrow-writes @sacred-arrow @gicu2 @neutronstarchild @kalcia

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

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Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

[snakebites-22]

Heylo! I saw that you were asking for requests, and I have one if you want to write it! What if the reader is always drawing on the boards after school, and students don’t know who does it, and one day Peter catches her drawing? Idk, I kinda liked the idea! I love your writing hun!!🥰💕❤️

Peter Parker and The Dry Erase Board Artist

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A/N: And here it is! Almost a whole month after I said I would have it done! I am so so so sorry for how long this took and also sorry for how shitty it also is. I hope you enjoy this trash fire that I just spent almost 4 hours on and finished at 1 am. Oh, I also made this gender neutral using they/them pronouns. 

Warnings: uh language, slight death threat?, stupid teachers, numbers, fluff ig, idrk 

Word Count: 2279

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: There’s a new mystery in Midtown, and it’s the creator of the dry erase board drawings. Peter is desperate to find out who it is even if it means losing sleep and missing assignments. What will it take to find out who this secret artist is?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter knew all about mysteries. He used to stay up too late reading those mystery novels by flashlight when he should have been sleeping. He grew up loving them. The amount of times May would walk into the living room to see him once again binge watching Scooby Doo was uncountable. Even now, he prided himself on being one of the biggest mysteries in New York: Spider-Man. He had to hold back a grin whenever he heard people discuss who the masked hero could possibly be. The craziest one so far was that Spider-Man was actually an alien being used by the government. He wasn’t sure who came up with that one, but props to them for their creativity.

He just absolutely loved mysteries of all shapes and sizes, and now, he had a new one to solve: the drawings. He called it Operation Dry Erase Board, and yes, the name did need improvement. Both MJ and Ned made sure to tell him that every single time he brought it up. Ned had suggested The Search for the Hidden Artist, which MJ just said sounded even worse. 

It had started a couple weeks ago. He had walked into his first period calculus class to see everyone whispering and taking pictures of the board. His first reaction was panic － his teacher was prone to surprise pop quizzes － but it soon turned to awe as he stared at the array of color across the board. It was a beautifully detailed portrait of the sea. He gazed upon the scene of manta rays and fish and even the silhouette of a shark. There was coral and shells of every color, and the lines and swirls of blue captivated him.There was no signature. Nobody knew who had done it. 

At first, Peter just tried to brush it off. There was somebody in the school who was skilled with dry erase board markers and was very artistically gifted. Not the biggest deal, but good for them. It became a bigger deal when the next day a gorgeous rendition of Starry Night was covering the board of the biology classroom. Once again, no signature. That’s when Peter started to become invested. 

He questioned MJ first. She was one of the only artists he knew, but she just scoffed. “I’m good, but dry erase markers are shit for me to work with.” 

He started paying more attention in art class, looking for anyone with a similar style. Nothing. Everyone was your typical high school artist who was just there for the credits, meaning people like him. Don’t ask about how designing the first spidey suit went.

 The drawings just kept coming. He soon saw space, dinosaurs, a jungle, The Mona Lisa, even each of the Avengers all spread across the dry erase boards. Each one of these was so beautiful and so alluring that it made his eyes sting and shouts of protest to erupt from the students when the teachers had to erase them. Even if they didn’t erase them, they were gone the next day. Whether it was the Hidden Artist or the janitor, Peter didn’t know. It was just another part in the mystery.

A lot of the drawings weren’t done in any classrooms that Peter had, meaning he would have to take field trips during his lunch period to go and find them. Most of the time he already knew where he was going. There was now a whole Instagram page dedicated to the art. It was run by Daphne, who was in both Yearbook and the Art Club. He had asked her if it was her, but she had just giggled and said she was a fan. Honestly, Peter was too. 

He would stare at the art for as long as he could each time he saw it, and he stared at the pictures he took of them even longer. He was consumed by the art, by his love for it. He needed to find out who the artist was, but unfortunately for him it would have to wait. He was so preoccupied with being Spider-Man and now also being a shitty detective that he was falling behind on both his work and his sleep. He had now fallen asleep a total of five times over the course of a week and a half, and he was close to failing both AP Government and Spanish, simply because he wasn’t catching up on his workload. 

Now, he was passed out in AP Lang, the one class that everyone knew not to fall asleep in. He couldn’t help it. He was running on a total of 4 hours for the week, and it was a Thursday. Not even his spidey sense could have prepared him for the crash of a ruler against a metal trash can right next to his ear. After nearly falling out of his chair and almost decking his teacher, Peter was given two weeks’ worth of detentions. 

“Hopefully that’ll teach young Mr. Parker here to pay attention instead of dozing off in the middle of class. Maybe he’ll catch up on his missing assignments, too. Speaking of, would you like to tell the class which rhetorical devices you’ll be utilizing in your essay, Mr. Parker?” All Peter could do is stare back at his teacher, horror written over his face. 

————————

It was 3:30 on a Wednesday, and Peter was losing his mind. Each of his detentions were an hour and a half long, lasting from 3:15 to 4:45. He had managed to catch himself up on his work and raise his grades a bit, but that didn’t change his predicament. He couldn’t go home or skip detention, meaning he was stuck at school for another hour and fifteen minutes. When he asked if he could do something, he was told he could go help the janitor. With a sigh, he got up and went in search of the janitor’s closet. 

During the time spanning over his punishment, he had nearly forgotten about his obsession with the Hidden Artist. Of course he still saw and heard about the drawings and he would still stare when he saw them, but now with the need to focus on his assignments being drilled into his brain every day on top of trying to stop bad guys each night, he was forced to move on. He didn’t want to. God, if he had the chance he’d stare at those drawings for hours on end, but he didn’t have that chance. It fucking sucked. 

After a couple minutes of searching, he finally found the closet. He grabbed a broom and looked around, and to his left, there was a classroom with the door slightly open. With a heavy sigh, he walked towards the room and pushed the door open, only to stop dead. There, across the room, was a brand new drawing, and it was a drawing of him. Not him him, of course, but a drawing of Spider-Man. It was a drawing of an event he recognized from yesterday when he had walked a lost kid back to their parents. The drawing showed him crouched down in front of the kid who was crying, and he had his hand out as an offer for the child to take it. 

Upon closer inspection, the drawing seemed incomplete. There were too many white spaces which wasn’t the artist's style. As he stepped closer to it, he heard the door creak and a gasp behind him. He spun around, nearly falling over in the process, and looked up wildly. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw Y/n L/n, a student in his grade. They stared back at him with wide eyes. 

“Did...did you do this?” Peter asked slowly. Y/n hesitantly nodded. 

“If you tell anyone about this, Parker, you’re dead.” 

He was slightly taken aback by this. Not the death threat, necessarily, he got those all the time, but it was a bit of a surprise coming from Y/n.

“I won’t. I promise,” he said softly. 

Y/n nodded slightly before striding towards the board and taking out a marker, beginning to fill in all of the white spaces Peter had noticed earlier. 

After a moment, Peter asked, “How do you do it?”

Y/n turned towards him, black marker clutched in their hand. “What?”

“The drawings. They’re so beautiful...I didn’t even know you could draw like that.”

“Everyone has their secrets, Parker. I’m sure you have yours.” 

Peter almost laughed at that, because yeah, he did, and Y/n was drawing it across the Physics dry erase board. But he didn’t laugh. He just smiled a little and kept watching, forgetting all about the broom that was now leaning against a desk.

“So...Spider-Man huh?” 

Y/n sighed and turned to him. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be sweeping or something?” 

Peter shrugged. “Or something. Look, this is probably gonna sound super weird, but I’ve been trying to figure out who you were for weeks. Your art is super amazing and cool and I just wanted to know so badly who was talented enough to pull it off. And now I know.”

“Are you disappointed?” It wasn’t a question out of fear, but more out of curiosity. Y/n sat themselves on a desk and waited for the answer. 

“I don’t think so,” Peter said. “This was just unexpected, I guess. I didn’t even consider you for a suspect.” Y/n chuckled at this. 

“Nobody suspects me. That’s the fun part of all of this, actually. Did you know people actually thought that it was Ms. Rosemary for a while?”

“The crazy teacher’s aid?”

“Yup. The theory, I think, was that she was so crazy that art became like her therapy or escape or whatever. I mean, it can be like therapy, but I think Rosemary needs a little more than some doodles in order to help her.”

“These aren’t just ‘some doodles,’ Y/n. They’re-”

“Beautiful. Yeah, you’ve said.” They shrugged. “It’s just scribbles on a board, Parker. Scribbles that, for whatever reason, make our brains happy.”

Peter didn’t really have a response to that, so instead he just watched as Y/n went back to work. 

————————

That was how he would spend his detentions. He would offer to go help the janitor, and then he would run around the school trying to find Y/n. Eventually, on the days where the drawings took less time to create, Y/n started to try to teach him how to draw. Basic things at first, like flowers or trying to break things down into their simpler shapes. He could barely do either of those things, but he enjoyed trying anyways. On other days, Peter would just sit and watch in silence as they drew. It was mesmerizing, and only he got to witness it. 

It became their thing. Even after detentions ended, Peter would stay after school for an hour or so just to go hang out with Y/n. They would have snacks and play music and have a good time. Peter learned that Y/n stayed after school since their parents were never home until the late evenings, so they stayed back just for the hell of it. He also learned that they were good friends with the janitor and that his name was Roger. He was the reason that they were even able to stay for as long as they did. It was pretty cool. 

It was a Friday, and Peter was spinning around in the teacher’s chair while Y/n drew a forest scene. Peter watched them for a while, a small smile on his face. They were also so concentrated when they worked, their eyes narrowing and jaw tightening as they drew the different lines and curves that made up the masterpiece. Unbeknownst to Y/n, Peter had a surprise for them. 

“Hey, N/n?” Peter asked. All he got was a hum in response. He rolled his eyes. “Come here.”

Y/n sighed and got off of the stool that they had been sitting on. “What do you want, Pete?” they asked as they strolled over, leaning over the desk when they got close enough. In response, Peter held up a small, wrapped up bundle. Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as they picked it up. 

“What-”

“Shhhh!” Peter said with a soft giggle. “Just open it.”

Y/n narrowed their eyes at him before slowly tearing the paper away. They smiled softly as they stared at the multipack of dry erase markers, enough colors to make practically any drawing that happened to cross their mind. 

“Why?”

“A simple thank you would have sufficed. It’s an appreciation gift for all of your art. I figured by now you’ve probably killed most of the markers in the school, so I got you some new ones.”

Y/n chuckled a little and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You deserve it.”

“I literally just make colored lines one a board.”

“And I appreciate those colored lines! They give me serotonin as do you.”

“I give you serotonin?”

“Yes.”

Y/n blinked in surprise. “Alright then...you also give me serotonin.”

“Really? Awesome.”

They both laughed for a moment, Y/n glancing back down at the markers as Peter continued to look at them.  

“Hey, Pete?” Y/n asked as they looked back up at him. “What?”

“Would you...would you like to continue to provide me with serotonin and go out with me?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, but soon it was his smile that was widening instead. 

“Absolutely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging:  @tommysparker @bebbeb @stixnstripesworld @orowit @dreamerinthesun @ididntseeurbag @bruhelpimgay @yikes-n-bikes @becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot @thespydersargon @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @th0ttie4tommy

[halequeenjas]

Welcome to Chili’s || Harsh, Nell, & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @nelllraiser @notsoharsh @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Okay, maybe sometimes you do have to perform an impromptu exorcism in a Chili’s. 

Normally, Jasmine wouldn’t be quite so inclined to the “cheap” part mentioned in Nell’s text, but hell, she did love margaritas and Chili’s delivered on that front. She’d gone there for plenty of girls’ nights and happy hours in the past, so she’d been inclined to agree to the outing. Especially since she looked forward to some quality time with the youngest Vural. They’d opted to sit at the bar as they were primarily here for the drinks. It was a nice, relaxing evening and she found it easy to just goof around with Nell. She’d always been so free-spirited and funny. Hell, after a few rounds of margaritas, Jasmine found herself going along with Nell’s attempts to troll the bartender instead of nudging her to stop. “She’s really not messing with you, Josh. The cream in Bailey’s only comes from a very specific kind of cow. You’re a bartender, you really should know this!” She took another sip from her margarita and had a devious look in her eyes. She glanced around the bar and saw a familiar face approaching the bar. “Harsh,” she practically yelled in a voice that definitely sounded a little tipsy. She waved enthusiastically and patted the seat next to her. Thankfully, her enchanted red heels kept her from slipping as she lept up to greet her hunter friend. “You know Nell, right? You should join us. I do still owe you that drink,” she said with a small nudge. 

After looking at the amount of medical bills and debt she still owed the hospital, a long day of checking in on the family’s of those killed in the demon-shark attack, and after the weekend Jasmine had gone through, Nell could think of no better idea than getting cheaply and absolutely sloshed at a Chili’s. “It’s true!” she exclaimed a little too loudly, leaning towards the bartender that continued to consider her and the exorcist with careful skepticism. “First you gotta be named Bailey. Then you gotta name the cow Bailey. And then you have to have a- what’s it called, Jasmine? The guys who are in the courtroom with the baton and the ‘All rise for the honorable judge!’ “ Nell’s nose scrunched as she thought, finding her answer a full and long five seconds later. “The Bailiff! He has to be the one to milk it. Then it’s Bailey’s. It’s like champagne coming from that one place in France!” But then Jasmine was yelling a familiar name, and Nell’s head whipped to find the bearer of said name. “Harsh!” Nell yelled in an equally inebriated tone. “Harsh, come here right now! Park your little butt right here,” she said as she too patted the seat. “He knows me! You know Jasmine?” Nell questioned the man before looking back towards her drinking buddy. “You know Harsh?” Another flicker of thought later, Nell squinted her eyes, asking Jasmine in a far too loud whisper, “Are you flirting with him?”

It wasn’t exactly Harsh’s usual haunt, but hey, he had a coupon. Couldn’t let that go to waste. The plan had been to cruise around, maybe pick out an easy meal as they were heading out the door, but that quickly got scrapped when a familiar voice called his name. Easy grin spreading on his face, Harsh sidled his way through the small crowd of irritable customers and exhausted looking wait staff to the bar. “Well, look who it is, my two favorite ladies. Funny running into you here. Is this where all the cool people hang out now? I must’ve missed the memo.” He gave Jasmine a one armed hug and shot Nell a wink before sinking into the seat beside them. Alright new plan. They both already seemed a little sloshed, someone would have to get them home safe. When did he become such a lame ass babysitter? “I’ll take a drink, looks like I’m going to need a few to catch up with you two.” His grin only grew with Nell’s too loud question. “I like to think everyone is always flirting with me, it makes things more fun.”

Maybe Jasmine should have taken pity on the poor bartender, but she was starting to understand why Nell found this to be so fun as she held back drunken giggles as Nell insisted all these ridiculous steps for Bailey’s to be Bailey’s. The description was making her want a Bailey’s and coffee though she didn’t want to be up all night or mix liquors with the… however many margaritas she’d drank at this point. Before they could further mess with the bartender, they were greeting Harsh. She laughed as Nell seemed confused that she and Harsh knew each other. “Yes,” she said with a nod, “He’s helped me out with some properties in the past. Really multi-talented man this one.” She gave Harsh’s arm a clumsy nudge that would have perhaps lined up with Nell’s next question had she been a little more graceful. She rolled her eyes, “Nell, please. I’m thirty, not thirteen. But I’ve probably flirted with him which I’m hardly embarrassed by. We’re all attractive adults here.” She smiled brightly and took her seat back at the bar as Harsh sat with the pair of them. With a wave, she told the bartender to add whatever Harsh was having to her tab. “Have as many drinks as you’d like… we definitely have you beat. And you know what, I like your way of thinking. It is more fun to just believe the attractive people in your life are flirting with you.” At least right now it felt that way. A margarita or two ago she would have likely scoffed at most who tried to flirt with her, but hell, who really cared. 

The poor bartender was spared from more well-meaning torture as Nell’s attention was sufficiently drawn away by Harsh and Jasmine...and the fresh margarita that had appeared in front of her. Leaning forward to take a quick and messy sip, she wiggled a little as the alcohol slipped down her throat, pleased by the tickle it made. “That’s true- he does have lots of talents. Have you asked him about all the dinosaurs he knows?” she asked, wondering if Jasmine knew of the vampire talents that Harsh possessed. Or was she one of the ones he’d tried to trick into thinking he was a hunter? “I didn’t say it was embarrassing!” she defended loudly. “I was just wondering! Is it illegal to ask?” Then she turned back to the bartender who seemed to look her over with a wary glance. “He’ll have two- no three! Three margaritas for him!” she said while jabbing her thumb in Harsh’s direction. The alcohol might not work all that well, but she didn’t actually care at a moment like this. Maybe if he drank twenty of them, then something would happen. 

This could go a couple of ways. There probably wasn’t any way to tell Nell not to drop any little vampire hints without giving himself away. Shit. Harsh really needed to keep better track of who knew what and whether they were any good at keeping secrets. “Aw c’mon, it’s not like I know them personally. But if a dinosaur showed up, I’d definitely introduce myself at least,” he said, with a light laugh. Maybe Nell would get the hint… if he was ever going to be that lucky. Three margaritas probably wouldn’t do much for him, but hell, he wasn’t going to turn them down. He was sipping at the first as he cast an idle glance around the restaurant. Pretty normal. Loud, crowded… except. Huh. He frowned, squinting for a moment. There was this weird little guy just standing there, looking right at Jasmine as people passed him by. He gave Jasmine a slight nudge. “Uh, hey. Is it just me, or is that guy giving you eyes right now?”

Jasmine found herself characteristically shaking her head at Nell. That girl really did say the wildest things. She nudged Nell and chastised, “Be polite, Nellie. You’re not that far behind us. Keep talking like that and I’m getting you a walker and hard candies for your next birthday.” She found herself laughing and added, “You whispered it loudly like it’d be some sort of secret.” Her eyes lit up when the bartender brought over another round of margaritas. It didn’t take her long to get a large gulp in. She got a bit of a chill, but didn’t think much of it. They weren’t too far from the door and Maine in winter was frigid at best. The nudge Harsh gave her made her a little more alert of the familiar feeling. She turned to look where Harsh was directing her and immediately dropped the glass in her hand. The clang of breaking glass was hardly heard over the crowd in Chili’s. Her hand reached for Harsh’s momentarily as she steeled herself to face Larry Bob here and now. Then it hit her, she dropped the hand and looked at him incredulously, “Wait, you can see Larry Bob, too? How- Okay, not the point right now. Nell, I need you to leave. Now.” She clumsily grabbed the salt shaker and fished underneath the bar for her purse. The ghost approached with a satisfied grin on his face. “Come on, Jas, you don’t want your favorite colleague joining you for happy hour?” The wind around them picked up and Jasmine immediately swore under her breath. Calling him a tacky little man probably wouldn’t help the situation right now. There were far too many people here for him to throw a ghostly temper tantrum, but the flying barstool crashing into the shelf of liquor said otherwise. 

Hm. Maybe Jasmine didn’t know about Harsh being a vampire. Or maybe he was just acting coy about the dinosaur thing. Either way, Nell didn’t particularly care all that much when she was as many margaritas deep as she was. “It’d be rude not to introduce yourself,” was the only comment she made on that as she took another sip of the drink in front of her. Her lips parted to answer Jasmine as well, but as soon as the words ‘Larry Bob’ were out of the exorcist’s mouth, Nell was frowning, brows drawn almost comically close together. “Larry Bob? Fuck that middle-aged, suburban wannabe NASCAR barbecue dad name having piece of shit- where is he?” Perhaps being drunk at a chili’s had left Nell wanting when it came to good judgment and the name calling of ghosts. But...then again she’d never been one to mince words. As the wind began to pick up, her fists clenched at her sides, paying no attention to Jasmine’s demands she leave. “Fuck that ghost! Fuck ghosts! I’m tired of ghosts! They had their lives, and now they wanna ruin everyone else’s! Step the fuck up, Larry Bob!” As barstools began to fly, Nell groaned, knowing this was about to get very ugly very quickly. “Alright! Everybody out!” she yelled over the din of the erupting chaos, trying to usher the normies out of the bar. “Move your asses, or I’ll move them for you!” At least she was coherent enough to make sure people didn’t get hurt.

Eyes widening with the breaking of the glass, Harsh looked between Jasmine and the creep. Wait. What did she mean how could he--oh. Oh shit. Fucking ghosts. At least the asshole had the decency to give Harsh a bit more time to think of an explanation. As the barstool went flying, Harsh moved, wedging himself between Jasmine and the remains of the bottles flying from the shelf. Glass caught his back as panic spread. Nell’s calls seemed to get almost as much attention as the destruction Larry Bob or whatever it was Jasmine had called him was. Harsh grabbed Jasmine by the arm, keeping her behind him as the ghost advanced. “I’ll explain later. Jasmine, tell me what to do. Nell, stay close.” Seeing Jasmine grab for a salt shaker, he did the same, ripping the top off to spread a clumsy line before the three of them. It wasn’t much. This wasn’t his area, it wasn’t even his fake area. Ghosts usually didn’t bother him and he did the same. He should’ve tried harder to keep it that way. 

Normally, Jasmine enjoyed Nell’s colorful antics. However, even in her drunken state, she knew tormenting a poltergeist was a dumb idea. There was no time to tell Nell to can it though. At least she shifted her focus to getting people out of here. That left her here realizing she needed to perform an impromptu exorcism in a Chili’s. At least she didn’t need to direct Nell further. “God damn it, Larry,” she grumbled as she raised her arms and closed her eyes to shield herself from the incoming glass. It caught her by surprise when none hit her. She cautiously opened her eyes and realized Harsh had blocked her from the flying glass. “Thanks,” she said, already a little out of breath. He was asking for direction and she pondered it for a moment, keeping the salt in her hand at the ready. “Try to make sure no one gets impaled. I’m going to try and exorcise this bastard right now.” There was a taunting laugh and another gust of wind that ripped the booths out of the wall. “Like hell you are,” Larry Bob cackled maniacally, “You’re the one who should be the ghost. You’ve always taken what should have been mine.” Jasmine scoffed and fished some salt out of her bag, “Oh, please. I was the best in the office because I actually worked, you snivelling little daddy’s boy.” So much for not taunting ghosts, but she was drunk and she was livid. She haphazardly created a circle of salt on the floor and began chanting the familiar Latin phrases, but found she couldn’t feel a pull on him. Everything just kept flying around her and she could barely keep her balance as the wind whipped all around them. 

Why was everyone trying to baby her? Nell squinted defiantly in Harsh’s direction as he mentioned staying close. Honestly, it was as if they didn’t even remember she’d killed more than her fair share of things. Actually, had she mentioned that to Harsh? She couldn’t really recall while there was a poltergeist tearing up a chili’s, and she was multiple margaritas deep. At least the people had mostly vacated the restaurant now, most of them unwilling to be a part of a freak tornado after reading the paper and seeing that the last two had caused deaths. “You tell ‘im, Jasmine! You’re gonna end his whole career! Oh wait! You already did!” The witch egged the woman on, all for trash talk in the heat of a battle- especially after a few shots of tequila. Nell knew she should stay behind the salt line, but she also knew that Larry Bob needed to be stopped despite her being unable to see him, and the metal legs of the table closest to them were looking awfully tempting. With any luck, they’d be made of iron. “Just cover me!” she yelled as her only warning before darting over the salt line, ducking as a barstool went flying past. It was times like these she was grateful for being small, and easily able to get in and out of tight situations. As she neared the table she slurred out a spell, and in the next instant the wood had shattered into pieces, leaving the legs free for the taking. Grabbing one from the floor, she eagerly hefted the trophy in her hands. “Alright! Where is the fucker?!” She directed her question towards Jasmine and Harsh, ready to smack this ghost bastard into oblivion. 

So this is what exorcisms were like. Harsh had seen one or two in his time, but he usually hadn’t been caught in the middle of them. He was going to have to go back to that after this. Being on the human side of things sucked. Cursing he batted away flying bits of bottles and dishes, keeping the debris from Jasmine as much as possible. She could do her thing, all he had to do was make sure she and Nell were--fuck, and there went Nell. Jasmine had the salt circle, so he rushed after Nell, ducking under another flying barstool as he skidded to the table. Iron, right. That was a good idea. He snatched up a hefty iron rod, turning just in time to smack a chair out of the air, sending it clattering across the room. “You can’t see him?” Ghost rules were stupid. He pointed. “There, he’s right in front of that booth. Help Jasmine, I’ll get him.” Harsh charged, swinging the iron right through the shrimpy little asshole’s spectral form. That wouldn’t get rid of him, he knew enough about ghosts to be sure of that, so he turned, frantic, searching for where the bastard might pop up next.

Any other time, Jasmine would have appreciated Nell gassing her up. This was not one of those times and she did her best to ignore it. Her hand was clasped around her necklace to help her find the focus and strength she needed to get through this ritual. Thankfully, the crowd seemed eager to get out of there quickly which just left her, Nell, and Harsh. That was… better. The last thing she needed was some random person to be standing by because some pathetic poltergeist held a grudge against her. Everything kept whipping around her and she kept going with the familiar Latin phrases that were admittedly much more difficult to annunciate after… how many margaritas had she had? Way too many to be performing an exorcism in the middle of a god damn Chili’s of all places. Her fists were clenched at her side and her voice was shouting over the howling wind. The longer she went, the weaker she could feel her body becoming. Her legs felt wobbly as if she was on rough waters and her voice was no longer carrying the same strong tone. Black was beginning to pinch around the edges of her eyes and she knew they had to finish this soon, but despite her efforts, Larry Bob wasn’t even being pulled into the circle. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nell rip a table apart. God, she hoped those table legs were iron. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up.

Nell wasn’t sure how exactly she was meant to help Jasmine as Harsh has asked. After all, she wasn’t an exorcist in any sense of the word. Sure- Jasmine could probably sap some strength from her if needed as both their practices were centered in magic, but wouldn’t the quicker option be to just get rid of the ghost? Nevertheless, she momentarily made her way to Jasmine, recognizing the signs of fatigue taking hold of the woman. Squinting her eyes against the wind, Nell reached out to place a hand on the exorcist’s back, siphoning her power into the woman so that Jasmine might stand taller. “Is it working?” she yelled over the din of the Chili’s unable to gauge where things were when she couldn’t even see Larry Bob. Once she was satisfied that Jasmine wasn’t going to collapse, the witch hefted her table leg once again- simply itching to run through some uppity trust fund ghost. Spotting Harsh, she made her way back towards him, jamming her hand into his so that he might guide her. “Just take me with you, and I’ll swing where you swing!” Why hadn’t she brought along those ghost seeing goggles she’d won in the arts and crafts contest? Hindsight was truly 20/20. But hopefully the combined effort of their iron would be enough to dispel Larry Bob if Jasmine didn’t get there first.

“Got it.” Gripping Nell’s hand tight, Harsh turned in a quick circle, looking for that little asshole. There. He gave Nell a pull forward. “There, in front of the stupid chili painting with the purple hat,” he said, voice low, though it was unlikely the ghost could have even hard him over the rush of wind and smashing of furniture. “Charge on three. I’ll hit him high, you hit him low. One, two, three--” Did it matter where you hit a ghost? Harsh wasn’t sure. But if they could just disrupt the bastard enough, maybe it would give Jasmine a break, or at least drive him out of this stupid restaurant. On his mark, Harsh lunged forward, pulling Nell along with him. He probably could have just carried her, that might have been more coordinated than their awkward rush forward. With a great swing, he brought his iron rod straight through Larry Bob’s smug face.

Even with Nell’s hand on her back, Jasmine couldn’t seem to banish Larry Bob no matter how hard she tried. Was her slurred speech impacting the Latin? There had to be something, but she had to keep going. There was no other option. That was, until she saw Harsh and Nell charging from the corner of her eye. A protective instinct rose in her despite knowing Nell was more than capable, but it seemed to be for not. As their table legs collided with Larry Bob, he dissipated. He was far from gone for good, but she could breathe again. She let herself fall back against the bar as fatigue overcame her. God, exorcisms and margaritas were not a good combination. She weakly looked between the two before taking in the mess around her. “Thanks,” she croaked, “We need…” They needed to leave. Make sure he didn’t come back. But should they check for people? Everyone had shuffled out pretty quickly and the bar took the brunt of the damage. And she was tired. So freaking tired. “Go,” she finally said though she found herself unable to meet either of their eyes. 

Nell had slashed her iron table leg in tandem with Harsh, and judging by his and Jasmine’s reactions— their attack had been successful, momentarily banishing Larry Bob back to wherever it was he went when he dissipated. Dropping her makeshift weapon where she stood, Nell instinctively went over to Jasmine, leaning herself against the exorcist in an attempt to provide some support in the wake of spending so much energy. Funneling her magic towards Jasmine, she tried to lend the woman more of her strength, knowing she still had more to give, and wanting to have Jasmine steady on her feet. “Yes- we should get out of here,” Nell agreed, looking around the wreckage of the Chili’s. With the spoken words of a spell, and a stomp of her foot, Nell magically scanned the rest of the restaurant for any other life signatures, but the only one’s present seemed to be her and Jasmine. And Harsh, of course— though it was notable that he didn’t show up with the spell. Generally, the magic was still able to sense the presence of the undead, and she wondered if it was Harsh’s lack of soul that was making him undetectable. “No one else is here- let’s ditch this popsicle stand. No good fucking ghost,” she mumbled as she tried to herd Jasmine towards the exit, waving Harsh over as well. “You’re both okay, right?”

The asshole was gone, for now. Stupid ghosts. Harsh really needed to learn more about them, maybe Jasmine had books he could borrow… if she wasn’t about to have a whole lot of questions for him. Maybe she would forget the whole bit about how hunters couldn’t see ghosts. Regrouping with her and Nell, Harsh glanced about the restaurant. No heart beats he could hear, there were some panicked ones outside, but most were moving away quickly, and beyond that… sirens. Fuck. “Yeah, we should go, the cops will be here soon and I don’t really want to try to explain an exorcism to them.” He followed along after Nell, a few quick steps bringing him to Jasmine’s other side as he offered his arm. “I’m good, what about you two? That was rough.” His eyes flitted about as they made for the exit, looking for any sign of that smug ghostly piece of shit. “I’m guessing that was a friend of yours, Jasmine?”

Tomorrow was going to be a hangover from hell, that much Jasmine was sure of though she felt steadier on her feet with Nell’s support. Something about it made her feel a little stronger, too. “Yeah, a little shaken up, but nothing some takeout and water can’t fix.” With the confirmation no one was still lingering around, she followed her friends out and quickly realized she was going to need to take care of Larry Bob sooner rather than later. “An old colleague who blames me for the fact he was in an accident like I was supposed to know the deck he was walking on would just collapse.” She had felt bad he died, even if she had never liked him all that much, but he was certainly making it harder and harder to sympathize. She took slow and careful steps towards her car before throwing the keys to Harsh. “You mind driving,” she asked before adding, “I’ll order everyone dinner once we get back to my place.” As she’d also be hitting the books and hitting up every contact she knew in order to get rid of Larry Bob once and for all.

[senttotheshadowrealm]

The entire Pixar!

Oh wow, that’s a lot xD I’ll try my best! (I’m gonna send you one when I’m out of class and able to send an ask, I didn’t just steal this I promise :’D)

Top 5 favourite characters: HECTOR, Ernesto, Miguel, Woody, and EVE

 Other characters you like: Slinky Dog!, Barley Lightfoot, Wall-E, Randall Boggs, Ellie Fredrickson, Bruce the Shark (and a bunch of others!) 

Least favourite characters: SPOT, Imelda *prepares for the flaming pitchforks*, Russell, Arlo 

 Otps: Wall-E/ EVE, Carl/ Ellie, Bob and Helen Parr, Ernector (fun to play with in AUs and such, but I don’t think they were actually romantic in the canon)

Notps: Imector *prepares for the stones*

Favourite friendships: Ernesto and Hector (pre-betrayal of course) ,Miguel and Dante, Buzz and Woody, Marlin and Dory, The Circus Bugs  

Favourite family: The Riveras

Favourite episodes: ????

 Favourite season/book/movie: COCO, but the first three Toy Story films hold a special place too. 

Favourite quotes: “I would move Heaven and Earth for you, mi amigo! Salud!”, “Dumb flower bridge!”, “YOU. ARE. A. TOYYYYYY!”, “I am MISSES! NESBIT!”, “To Infinity and Beyond!”, “I don’t know....but whatever I do.... I’m going to live every minute of it!”

Best musical moment: Anything in Coco, honestly. But Remember Me (lullaby) overall, Llorona for sound.

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: The first time seeing HECTOR‘S PHOTO~ <3

When it really disappointed you: The entirety of The Good Dinosaur. I really don’t know what they were smoking...

Saddest moment: Uuuuuughhh there are so mannnyyyy..... Probably either the Remember Me lullaby or the legendary first 10 mins of UP

Most well done character death: Hector’s lol That flashback scene is cinematic GOLD  

Favourite guest star: Lee in Coco. “What did I miss?”

Favourite cast member: Gael Garcia Bernal <3

Character you wish was still alive: Ellie. Omg. (I was gonna say Hector but he’d probably have died of natural causes by now anyway lol)

One thing you hope really happens: Coco sequel!!!

Most shocking twist: Ernesto’s a baddie. I was genuinely shocked.

When did you start watching/reading?: Lol oh God. I had Toy Story sheets on my first bed when I was 3 so.... young.

Best animal/creature: Pepita! She’s rad!

Favourite location: Land of the Dead <3

Trope you wish they would stop using: Honestly, I couldn’t say. I think Pixar avoids a good amount of tropes.

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: Emotions. Pixar films know how to build worlds and characters and know how to make people care about them.

Funniest moments: All of Finding Nemo is hysterical. But my favorite moment of all time is the bug zapper scene from Bug’s Life. That KILLS me every time! The one skeleton dancing to the accordion music cracks me up, too!

Couple you would like to see: None that I can think of???

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: No one in particular.

Favourite outfit:I may not like her very much, but Imelda’s outfit is👌  

Favourite item: Ummm....Hector’s guitar???

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: lmao oh yeah! Shirts, figures, bedding, a bunch of stuff!

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: Riveras. They’re honestly so supportive and wonderful <3

Most boring plotline:Cars. Like holy crap its a snooze fest.

Most laughably bad moment: Cars 2. All of it. It is so delightfully insane from start to finish that I kinda love it. 

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Again, Hector’s death scene. Such incredible story-telling, so much history about the characters, so much emotion packed into what is only a couple minute sequence. It’s wonderful.

Most layered character: Oooofff....I gotta say Ernesto. There’s a lot going on in that deranged mind of his. And they’re so fun to ponder about.

Most one dimensional character: Bing bong. He’s there to die. The end.

Scariest moment: Toy Story 3′s incinerator scene. They just...accept death... Having fun, kids?

Grossest moment: Syndrome getting sucked into the plane engine at the end of Incredibles. What a way to go xP

Best looking male: Living Hectorrrr~ <3

Best looking female: Luisa Rivera. She a cutie pie :3

Who you’re crushing on (if any): HECTOR <3 <3 <3  

Favourite cast moment: I like when they used to do those blooper reels at the end of their movies. Does that count?

Favourite transportation: Pizza Planet truck. It can apparently go anywhere.

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): Miguel seeing the LotD for the first time. Ooof <3

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: None that I can think of.

Best promo: I liked the media spots they did for Coco. A lot of them are on YouTube if anyone hasn’t seen them.

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: Again, quite young xD

Whew, that was a LOT! But it was a lot of funnn~

[steves-on-a-plane]

Halloween PJs

For @thefanficfaerie​‘s OTP Challenge (2020) Words: 847 Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader     Prompt: Spooktacular Halloween: Day 2 - Halloween PJs Summary: Reader’s first big Amazon order of the holiday season has arrived and she needs Tony’s help to bring everything inside. While they’re unpacking, she finds the box full of matching PJs she ordered for them. One outfit in particular makes Tony incredibly excited.

“Tony! bAbY?” You called for your husband through the house. There was a large package on the front door, but you needed his help to being it inside. “Hey J, where’s Tony?” You asked JARVIS.

“It seems he’s upstairs sleeping, Mrs. Stark.” JARVIS told you. You opened the front door and looked down at the large pile of Amazon packages that currently littered your porch. You wondered if it was worth trying to wake Tony or if you should just bring the packages in yourself. Tony was probably napping because he’d been up late playing in his lab the night before.  You decided you needed his help after all. He could go back to napping later.

“Hey there, Beautiful!” Tony smiled when he awoke to you sitting next to him. “Come to join me?” He tugged at your waist trying to get you to lay down with him.

“Actually, I came up because I need help.” You laughed. “Some of that stuff I ordered came in and I need help carrying the packages inside.”

“Can we just stay here and snuggle instead?” He complained, kissing your neck.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow,” You giggled as his lips brushed your skin. “I don’t want to leave the stuff out there overnight.”

“Alright, alright.” He complained, letting go of you. Tony tossed the covers off himself and got out of bed. “Did you order me any snacks at least?”

“You’ll just have to see once we open up the boxes, won’t you?” You said as you followed him out of the bedroom. The two of you made your way downstairs and to the front door.

“Sweetheart,” Tony called over his shoulder to you when he saw the small mountain of packages out on the porch. “Did you leave anything at the Amazon Warehouse for anyone else to order?”

“Oh please, it’s not that much.” You laughed. “Start carrying, Baby. I’m the architect of this whole thing, that makes you the muscle.”

“This is the first time in my life I’ve been the brawn instead of the brains.” He pointed out, already reaching for one of the biggest boxes.

Once everything was inside the front hall, you sat down on the floor and invited Tony to do the same. Generally, Tony considered himself a man above sitting on the floor. I mean who was he, Clint or Bucky? But he always wanted to see what you were spending your exorbitant Halloween budget on, so he pilfered a cushion from the couch and placed it between himself and the floor.

Armed with the sharpest steak knife from the kitchen, you started cutting into the packages like a kid at Christmas. The first box you opened was a pair of skeleton lawn flamingos. The second was a three-foot-tall animated spider that tapped its toes when it sensed motion. There was an ample supply of faux spiderwebs and rubber bats. (You had a lot of house to cover.)

“Uh, where are you planning on putting this?” Tony held up a decorative rug that he’d just removed from a box near him. It was brown and designed to look like the Handbook for the Deceased from Beetlejuice.

“Oh, right here in this room. Right when people walk in the front door. Isn’t it neat?” You asked.

“You know?” Tony took another look at the rug in his hands. “I kind of like it.” He nodded. “It will fit better in here without all these boxes though.”

“Ha, ha.” You laughed sarcastically. “This is the box I was looking for!”

It was no secret that you and Tony with the Queen and King of the socializing. You always threw big bashes during all the major holidays, and in between you were known to host smaller gathering here and there. So, in preparation for the inevitable movie nights and pumpkin carvings, you ordered a few sets of festive pajamas for you and Tony.

There was a matching set of onesies that looked like Skeletons. A pair of white pants with black bats printed on them. These pants had a coordinating top with a larger bat and the words “Let’s Hang” Printed on the front. The Box had a costume onesie in Tony’s size that looked like a dinosaur and a costume onesie in your size that looked like a shark.

“Did you order us matching halloween pajamas?”  Tony asked when you showed him the contents of the box.

“Yes, I know it’s not exactly your thing, I mean it’s really domestic and…” You began to apologize.

“And I love it!” He interrupted you. “I want to wear that dinosaur outfit like yesterday! Give it here!” He insisted impatiently. You handed it over, enjoying how joyful he looked. “It’s so soft!” he exclaimed. “How soon can we have someone over, so I have an excuse to use this?”

“We could set up a movie night on Friday.” You suggested.

“Great idea! I’ll start texting the team right now!” Tony jumped up from his seat on the floor and bolted from the room to look for his phone.

[haikyuuphilia]

Hey could I get a HQ match up please! I’m 5’9 curvy girl with split dyed hair (currently black and green) and 3 tattoos (shark tooth, lightning bolt & a dinosaur). I’m currently studying to become a geologist and science has always been an interest of mine. Music is also a big part of my life and I play bass, guitar & I sing. I’m a Libra but I don’t look much into horoscope stuff so I don’t know much about that. I’m not entirely outgoing but I do make friends easily. Also I sleep A LOT haha

hi of course! you sound so cool jasdklfjd thanks for requesting a matchup <3

(assuming you wanted a romantic matchup with a male but lmk if not~)

i match you with...

→ suna rintarou

an aquarius who would get along really well with you as libra

astrology aside, suna fits your vibe so well

also very smart! he’d be great with someone like you who’s so passionate about geology

loves to sleep (especially if you were with him)

suna enjoys chilling with you in his room, drowsily falling asleep 

thinks your hair is beautiful because you look kinda remind him of his childhood crush lmao (shego from kimpossible anyone?)

kisses your tattoos! 

if they’re somewhere nsfw, even better for him

he’d help you redye your hair if you wanted to do it at home

or he’d accompany you to the hair salon while you get it done

loves to listen to you play guitar and bass while singing

suna probably plays a few musical instruments too so he’d be so happy listening to you

hot + wonderful + loves you very much <3

→ tsukishima kei

i can’t NOT match you with tsukishima after reading the description of your interests

he’s a libra, too, which is very compatible and means you two get along super well!

and he’s more into paleontology, sure, but you’ve both got a love for science

probably how you two met and why he found himself so interested in you

tsukishima’s glad you make friends easily because it let him easily get to know you :D

appreciates how you’re a musician

he’d secretly love if you sang for him, even if it were just humming in the car or something

and if you had any gigs or concerts you played at, he’d be in the front row seat

probably gets a matching shark tooth tattoo after you’ve been together for a while

makes fun of you for being short... tsukki, you’re just a giant

after he gets to know how amazing you are, you’re literally the most important person in his life <333

[authorialarcanist]

Gracidea Blossom

Pokémon Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum X Little Busters!

Summary: Riki Naoe doesn't ask much from life; ever since his parents died, he only wants to stay with the friends who pulled him out of depression: Masato, Kengo, Kyousuke, and Rin. Kyousuke, however, has other plans: there's a beautiful world out there, and he wants Riki to see it. And so Riki and Rin set out on their own Pokémon journey through the wonders of the Sinnoh region, both natural and man-made. They will face challenges and meet new friends, and see all the awesome things the world of Pokémon has to offer. After all, even when it comes with tears, isn't that what life is about?

This story is being written with the assumption that a reader may not be familiar with Little Busters canon.

Rating: T

Pairings: None

---

Mirror Links: AO3, Pokécommunity, Spacebattles

- Next Chapter

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Prologue: Kyousuke's Back

The wind howls, flinging torrents of sand every which way. A narrow path cuts through pockmarked cliffs of dark rock, winding up and down the sandy canyon floor. If a flying observer thought the storm was bad above ground level, they would realize how wrong they were upon diving between the walls; where the gale above split this way and that, sometimes blowing a flurry upwards to hang a moment in the air, here the canyon forms a channel for a river of air and sand to cut through like so many minuscule blades. Even the small oases of Route 228, normally offering respite from the desert’s harshness, find their trees struggling as the sandstorm strips leaves from their branches.

Two figures trudge through the sand, pushing forward even as the wind fights to deny them. The first, towering over its companion, is a bipedal dinosaur covered in bulky purple spikes. Its tail drags through the sand, leaving a trail behind it for only moments before the sandstorm covers it up.

Behind the Nidoking, relying on its bulk for cover from the storm, is a human wrapped up so tightly that not an inch of skin is visible. A damp cloth is wrapped around his nose and mouth, and heavy goggles cover his eyes. He pokes a gloved hand experimentally out from his Pokémon’s wind shadow, and snatches it back from the sudden force. He mutters to himself, voice confident though muffled by the cloth.

“This is definitely no ordinary storm.” Although Route 228 is known for its sandstorms, normally trainers can prepare for the weather and gather here as a training spot. The current winds, however, brook no argument in their rejection of any human foolish enough to trespass. Of course, that’s why he’s here; to get to the bottom of whatever’s been rendering the area uninhabitable. In front of him, his Pokémon lumbers to a stop; when he peeks around its side, he sees that a rock slide has blocked off the path. “Louis, down.” The Nidoking obediently crouches, allowing its trainer to clamber up onto its back. He pulls himself up by its spiked ridges.

That’s one advantage of the sandstorm, he muses. He doesn’t have to be as careful of his Pokémon’s poisonous spines when he’s already wearing gloves.

“Rock Climb!” He shouts the command to be heard over the wind, and holds on tight as Louis grabs onto a boulder above and begins the process of hauling itself up the obstruction. Its weight shifts back and forth as it climbs, and its passenger winces as his body occasionally swings out to catch a burst of stinging sand. Finally, the wind seems to let up a little as the Pokémon pulls itself to the top of the cliff and lets its trainer off. The two look down at the northern half of the route, and find it utterly buried in sand dunes. The northern oasis has totally vanished under heaps of sand, and as their gazes turn further north they find the source - a massive twister spewing sand from a wide pit near the route’s northern gate. The gate building itself, of course, is utterly sanded in (sanded in? Sandlogged? The trainer makes a mental note to check); it’s been unusable since the storm began. He pauses for a moment, considering. No, he’d better stick to his guns. ‘Sanded in’, it is.

Trainer and Pokémon trek on, staying atop the cliff with Louis bearing the brunt of the storm. It, at least, seems to enjoy the sandblasting. Finally they reach the nearest location to the source, a point where the cliff juts out in a wide overlook. Even with his Pokémon’s protection, the trainer can feel the twister tearing at his clothes, straining to pick him up and fling him away. He grimaces. This next part isn’t going to be fun.

He runs out from his Pokémon’s shelter to duck behind a pair of large, pitted boulders. For a moment he’s exposed to the full brunt of the sandstorm, and the damp cloth is ripped from his face, forcing him to cover it with one arm. He coughs in the dry air, but still manages to splutter out a command.

“Louis! Use Avalanche!” The Nidoking roars in reply, and stomps one huge leg with tremendous strength. A wave of ice spews forth from its mouth, and the cliff face gives way under the force, sending tonnes of ice and rock tumbling down into the twister’s heart. The sand sputters and pauses for a moment, and the trainer chooses then to dive out from his hiding spot and leap on top of the avalanche, desperately fighting to keep his balance as he plunges to the ground. As he nears his destination the tumbling rocks grow even more treacherous, and when an impact seems about to jar him off he leaps away, coming to a rolling stop in the sand some feet from ground zero. He sways to his feet, wincing. That probably would have given Riki a heart attack if he was here.

Still, he grins. He needs to work on the landing, but that was cool. He snaps back to earth as a tremor runs through the pile of rock and ice where the avalanche has finally stopped. Louis was far too heavy to make the same trip without being injured, so he’s going to have to play this suboptimally. That’s fine. The rocky tomb bursts apart, and an angry Pokémon emerges with a roar. It’s a huge hippo, taller than he is, with a leathery gray hide. Sand pours from holes on its darker snout and back, although thankfully it doesn’t seem capable of starting the twister back up immediately after his Nidoking’s painful attack. The Hippowdon - he hasn’t needed his Pokédex to recognize native Sinnoh species in a long time - glares at him, one eye red and the other a faded, milky blue. After a moment’s standoff, it leaps at him.

“Irwin! I choose you!” He flings a pokéball without missing a beat, and with a flash of red the Hippowdon find its charge interrupted by a vicious slashing claw. It backs away and examines this new opponent with its good eye. The claw attaches to a thin arm, sporting a pair of small spikes and a deep blue vestigial flipper. Red scales stretch up the newcomer’s belly and to its jaw, on a sharklike head flanked with two organs like jet engines. The snout is painted with yellow scales in the shape of a star. The Garchomp crouches, flicking its tail out behind it, and goes on the offensive. It’s unable to take full advantage of its speed in these narrow conditions, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still pack a punch.

At its trainer’s shouted “Dragon Claw,” the land-shark launches itself at the Hippowdon, slashing out with wicked claws. The hippo lumbers back, shifting to take only glancing blows until it finds an opening to lunge and latch onto the land-shark with its massive teeth. Its maw flashes white for a moment, and Irwin roars in pain as ice blooms where the Hippowdon’s teeth connect. It thrashes back and forth, trying to throw its opponent off, but the hippo is too heavy to budge.

“Wh—shit! That’s not a move Hippowdon can learn in the wild!” The trainer swears. Garchomp are incredibly vulnerable to the cold, and his Pokémon could be in danger if he doesn’t do something quickly. “Use Substitute! Get out of there!” Irwin glows bright white, and a moment later it’s slipping away as the Hippowdon munches on a glowing decoy. Back in the ball it goes, and — the trainer swears again, diving out of the way as the hippo barrels towards him, the substitute finally bursting beneath its legs. The rampaging Pokémon tries to stop as its target escapes it, but one of its back legs shudders as it tries to dig in, and it slams into a rock wall with a bellow. The trainer scrambles back to his feet, another Pokéball already flying from his hand. “It’s up to you, Maeda! Use Mach Punch!” A large ape, brown with a white torso and yellow swirls adorning its body, shoots like a bullet at the Hippowdon and beans it in the snout just as it turns around. The ape cartwheels out of the way of its opponent’s retaliation, flames billowing from its head in interesting patterns as it flips backwards. With another bellow, the Hippowdon gives chase.

“You’ve been competitively trained, that’s for sure.” The trainer narrows his eyes behind his goggles, watching as his Infernape keeps its opponent busy. “Why would a trainer abandon a Pokémon they’ve put this much investment into? And if they were going to just dump you off somewhere, then why go through the effort to make sure it’s in your natural habitat? Unless…” He watches as the Hippowdon works itself up into more and more of a rage, until it finally rears up onto its hind legs, preparing to slam down and trigger an earthquake to bury these irritants in one fell swoop. “Maeda, now!” The Infernape catches the hippo’s forelegs as it begins its descent, straining to push against the force. The Hippowdon roars, trying to crush its foe, but even as it pushes the ape back, its bad leg falters and gives in. Maeda gives one final push, and the Hippowdon slams down on its side. Dazed and weakened, it still tries to push itself to its feet.

The trainer approaches slowly, hands in front of him. “Your trainer felt responsible for getting you hurt, didn’t they? They thought staying here would be better for you. You were just trying to cause a disturbance so that they’d come back.” The Hippowdon’s roar sounds less angry, now, and more sad. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not your trainer. But… You can come with me, if you want to.” The hippo raises its head, its one red eye meeting the trainer’s gaze. Finally, it slumps to the ground, no longer struggling.

“I understand. And… I’m sorry.” The trainer pulls an Ultra Ball from a pocket of his coat, and with a press of the button on front it expands to full size. He palms the sturdy metal sphere, and with perfect form sends it sailing at the Hippowdon’s center mass. In a flash of red, the Pokémon vanishes, and the Ultra Ball falls to the ground. It doesn’t shake.

The trainer walks over and picks it up. Next to it is a strange rock, smooth but for translucent brown crystals jutting out at angles. “Was she holding this?” He murmurs to himself, and pockets the stone. May as well show it to the Professor, in case it had anything to do with the strength of the Hippowdon’s sandstorm.

“Now, then…” He looks around.

The pit is covered in rubble and sand. Finding where his Pokémon’s balls had flown after releasing them is going to be a hassle.

——

“…And that’s what happened.”

Sinnoh’s Resort Area could hardly be any more different from the harsh desert of Route 228. Nestled between lush forests on every side, the settlement is a study in blues and greens. Aside from a small Pokémon Center catering to trainers who came from the other Areas of the Battle Zone, the few buildings in the clearing gleam white in the sun, with rich vacationers lounging on lawn-chairs or swimming in pools beside them. Despite their luxury, all of these villas remain at one story in height; the only building to climb higher is the combination Ribbon Syndicate and Spa at the northern edge of town, a social hub for those staying in the area.

A young man lies on the cool grass next to a small pond. Around him are scattered several layers of protective clothing. The trainer finally pulls off his thick goggles and splashes some water on his face. Now that he’s no longer bundled up against the sandstorm, he’s wearing a black T-shirt with a light red dress shirt worn open over it. Auburn hair falls to the length of his nose, cut shorter just above each eye to keep it from blinding him. He straightens up and stretches before opening his eyes, refreshed. They’re a deep, intense red. This is Kyousuke Natsume, the Champion of the Sinnoh region’s Pokémon League.

“Route 228 is officially open for travel again, and I’ll be taking this Hippowdon with me. Who knows, maybe we’ll even find her trainer. How about you, Professor?”

His companion looks up from finishing a donut. “Hmm, yes. My research while waiting here was more than satisfactory.” This is an older man, sporting white hair and an impressive mustache. He’s wearing a brown coat over a blue vest. His face appears severe, but the effect is rather ruined when he licks frosting off of his fingers and smiles. “…And I must say, the amenities were quite fascinating as well!” This is Professor Rowan, the region’s foremost Pokémon Professor. “Anyhow, you really didn’t have to accompany me to Unova. Surely you’re eager to get back to your friends?”

Kyousuke nods. “I can’t say you’re wrong. Still, I did have business that was closer to Unova than Sinnoh.” He fingers a Pokéball on his belt, kept separate from those of his team and the recent acquisition. “And helping out on the way was the least I could do, with what I’m asking of you.”

“Nonsense, young man!” Rowan waves the comment off. “I’d never ask for compensation to help nurture another generation of Trainers. Getting to see youngsters set out and discover the world together with Pokémon would be reward enough, even if we weren’t talking about…” He trails off, shooting Kyousuke a sheepish look.

Kyousuke takes pity on him. “Of course. I shouldn’t have implied otherwise.”

“Err-hem. Speaking of which, here - now’s as good a time as any to hand them over.” Professor Rowan turns to the briefcase sitting on the grass beside him, and pulls out a slim black bag with something rectangular inside, along with two Pokéballs. Kyousuke takes them, inclining his head in thanks. “I must say, having your assistance was quite nice! If you’re ever looking for a job as a full-time lab assistant, my door is always open!”

“Well, I might be hunting for a job one day and have to take you up on that.” Kyousuke chuckles. “For now, though, Champion duties keep me more than busy enough.”

“Hah! Well, you can’t blame me for trying.” Rowan snaps his briefcase closed and takes one last wistful look at the large building overlooking the resort. “You know, the lady at the Syndicate said they’d be getting in Lava Cookies tomorrow. Ah well, I suppose time waits for no man…”

Kyousuke shakes his head. “I guess not. I wouldn’t want to miss our boat and have to Surf all the way.”

With some good-natured grumbling, the Professor picks up his briefcase, and the two set off.

——

The sun is setting over Mt. Coronet by the time Kyousuke finally makes it to Hearthome City. Stepping out of the gate building and onto the city’s patterned brick paths, he marvels at how, no matter how long he’s been away, Hearthome always seems to welcome him back. From the widely spaced brick houses and apartment buildings, flanked by bushes growing from cutouts in the streat, to the parents out with strollers, waving casually not at the Champion but at the leader of those kids who were always making a racket, the city emits a palpable sense of warmth. Kyousuke is looking forward to seeing his friends, but he stops at a bench to rest his feet and watch twilight play over the city. Streamers of orange light seem to sink into the bricks around him, and paint the city’s fountains with their glow. Above the mountain to the west, the sky fades from blue to orange to a quiet pink. The breeze is pleasantly cool, and Kyousuke’s eyes slowly drift closed.

When he opens them again, dusk has well and truly fallen. In lieu of the sun, street-lights have illuminated themselves, casting the city in a strange liminal tone. He checks his Pokétch, and sees the clock app mark the time as 10 PM. With a yawn, Kyousuke pushes himself to his feet; his friends shouldn’t be sleeping just yet, and he does want to see them tonight.

“Oh, if it isn’t Kyousuke!” A woman stops him before he can begin his search; he remembers her babysitting him and his sister when they were younger. “I see you’re back from your trip.”

He nods. “I would have been here yesterday, but they needed my help at the Battle Zone.”

“Ah, of course. A champion’s duty calls, eh? I don’t suppose you checked in on Rin and the others before deciding to take a nap?”

“Hmph.” Kyousuke chuckles. “What can I say? Our fair city’s beauty couldn’t be ignored.”

“Sure, sure. If you’re looking, I think they’ve been in Amity Square all day.”

“Much obliged.” With a casual wave, Kyousuke sets off in the direction of the park. He could have guessed; any time she wasn’t otherwise occupied, Rin could be found playing with the cat Pokémon who lived there. Riki would go wherever his friends did, and Masato and Kengo liked to keep an eye on them when he wasn’t around, so more often than not they could be found in the park whenever he returned from a long trip. He slips past the Pokémon Contest Hall, ignoring the colorful lights and boisterous sounds that can be heard from the dome, and finally the city’s ubiquitous brick gives way to grass as he approaches Amity Square’s entranceway.

Although the design is somewhat reminiscent of Sinnoh’s gate buildings, the entranceway is much more open, with open-air windows that only get covered in cases of inclement weather, and a cheery sign depicting a Drifloon, a Psyduck, and a Torchic hanging over it. He passes through with a nod to the attendant, and steps out into the park. Despite the dark sky the park is still illuminated by a smattering of street lamps; Amity Square is first and foremost a place for children to play with tame Pokémon, so safety is their first concern. It’s a shame that you can’t see the stars from here, but it’s worth it for the smiles the park brings to children and adults alike.

Catching a glimpse of one of his friends, Kyousuke cuts across a bridge to the manmade island in the center of the large pond that occupies pride of place in the square. Sat on a raised outcropping of rock next to the Bonsly that follows him everywhere, Riki Naoe is quietly gazing at the water. Although he’s only a year younger than Kyousuke, Riki is still more a boy than a man, with a slight build clad in a simple blue coat. He has brown hair and greyish-brown eyes, set in a soft face. Right now, however, those eyes seem to be looking someplace far away.

Even now, years after they first met, Kyousuke still catches Riki making that expression from time to time. He wishes he could drive the clouds from his friend’s face for good. He clears his throat, and raises his hand in a lazy wave. “Yo, Riki.”

Riki looks around, and his face lights up like the sun upon seeing Kyousuke.

“Kyousuke! Your trip is over? Oh, wait, I need to go get the others!” He turns and runs deeper into the park. “Hey! Masato! Kengo! Rin! Come on, Kyousuke’s back!”

Kyousuke watches fondly as his friends gather. One more day, he decides. They’ll spend one more day in Hearthome, playing together like nothing has changed. But after that…

He toys absentmindedly with the Pokéball he picked up in Unova, and meets the eyes of two of his friends as they approach. Masato and Kengo nod back, the message received.

It’s time.

Soon, Riki and Rin’s own journey will have to begin.

------

A brief note about spoilers: in this fic, some spoilers for Little Busters! will be inevitable. However, I'm going to leave a note at the start of any chapter where spoilers about a character's route pop up for the first time, so that people who haven't read the VN or watched the anime can still follow along and pause if they decide they want to see a character's original context before getting spoiled on anything. That said, even then I'm going to keep spoilers to backstory content only as best I can; I'm going to be leaving as much of the routes as possible to be the original work's domain and taking my own path with the characters, just as I'm hoping to do something original with Sinnoh rather than just retelling Pokémon Diamond and Pearl. Ultimately, my goal is for somebody who hasn't read Little Busters to be able to read this fic, and still go on to enjoy Little Busters afterwards and have things left to be surprised by.

[halfbloodallbitch]

Closets Full of Monsters

‘Mommy, mommy!’ Sally woke with a jolt and leapt out of bed. Nearly colliding with the door frame, she raced to Percy’s room her heart pounding like it was a prisoner inside her chest. Opening his bedroom door she quickly looked around to see if there was anyone or anything there. The room was lit up by the nightlight she kept plugged in by the door so she could see everything clearly; the old laundry basket where they kept Percy’s toys, the shelf of stuffed animals, the old closet with its broken shelf inside and Percy’s toddler bed. Percy was sat up in bed clutching his toy shark to his chest eyes wide with fear. ‘It’s okay baby mommy’s here,’ Sally reassured him sitting down on the floor next to him and petting his hair. Percy just kept staring at the closet.

‘What’s wrong baby?’

‘Monster,’ Percy replied pointing to the wardrobe. Sally felt her heart suddenly drop to the bottom of her stomach.

‘Well I’d better have a word with this monster,’ she said forcing her voice to keep steady. She stood up and started making her way towards the closet. It was probably nothing, every kid thinks there’s a monster in their closet, or under their bed. But Percy wasn’t every kid, she had always known that, and she still had nightmares after finding a dead snake in his crib. When she reached the closet she stopped. She wanted to stall but she didn’t want Percy to see she was afraid, so she turned round and gave him a reassuring smile, before turning back to the closet. Trying but failing to stop her hands from shaking she reached for the handle and began to pry the door open. Nothing. Apart from Percy’s clothes it was completely empty. Sally breathed a sigh of relief; it was all in his head. But then again it might not be, she thought.

‘Well Percy it seems your screaming must have scared the monster off. Still I think you should sleep with me tonight, just to be safe.’ She picked him up and carried him, and Sharky, to her room before tucking him into her bed before climbing in herself and holding him close. It took a while for her to settle him down. He kept pointing at the dinosaurs on his pyjamas and asking her ‘What’s that?’, a game they often played before bed, and making Sharky swim on the bed covers. Eventually though Sally got him to lie down lay next to him humming a folk song until she was certain he was asleep. She sat there watching his chest rise and fall, stroking his hand which he’d thrown over his head. He looked so peaceful it broke her heart knowing it could never last.

‘One day you’ll have to be brave enough to face the monsters on your own,’ she whispered to him.

‘One day, but not tonight, not just yet. For now I’ll be brave for you.’

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Coffee Date

Number Twenty-Six can be read here. 

Rated: G

Coffee Date

Gold stood outside the coffee shop, nervously drumming his fingers against his other arm. Although he’d been feeling very confident when he’d asked Belle if she’d like to get coffee today – he had, after all, been riding on the coat tails of her asking him if he wanted to get a drink – he was now feeling a lot less confident.

What if she’d only made her initial overture out of politeness and gratitude at his having saved her from being stranded at the bus stop? Now that time had passed, would she still be so willing?

He shook himself crossly and tried not to be so pessimistic. She wouldn’t have given him her phone number if she didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and when he had texted her last night to check if they were still on for today, she wouldn’t have replied telling him that she was looking forward to it.

He shouldn’t have come out so early; all it had served to do was give him more worrying time, but he had been so antsy waiting around in the house that Aunt Elvira had practically shooed him out of the door with a broom so that he wouldn’t keep annoying her with his constant pacing and what-ifs.

At last, he saw Belle coming down the street towards him, right on time. She waved when she caught sight of him, and by the time she arrived by his side, he could see that she was smiling widely.

“Hello. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, not at all.” It was probably best not to tell her the exact truth. “Shall we go in?”

Coffee and pastries procured, they found a table by the window and sat down. Gold wished he knew what to say. Small talk had never been his strong suit even when he wasn’t talking to very pretty ladies that he’d had a crush on ever since they first got on his bus.

“How’s your son?” Belle asked presently. “I hope he wasn’t scandalised by the idea of his father having a date on his day off.”

Hearing her calling it a date made Gold’s heart want to leap into the air and perform a triple somersault, but thankfully it refrained, and he was able to answer without too much of an obvious gaping pause whilst he recovered his senses. It was a date! Belle saw it as a date, and that meant that he could too. Ursula and Aunt Elvira were going to tease him mercilessly about his paranoia for weeks, but it was worth it. He was on a date, for the first time in years.

“He’s only five, so he’s not really interested in my dating life. If I’d said I was coming out for coffee with a stegosaurus then his ears might have pricked up a bit.”

“I’m not sure what it is about that age and dinosaurs. My godson’s four and he’s obsessed with them too.” Belle smiled. “Maybe they ought to get together for the epic dinosaur battle of the century. What’s his name?”

“Baden. Bae.”

“And his, erm, mother? Sorry, this is horribly inappropriate for a first date. I should be talking about the weather or something.”

“No, no, it’s ok. She left when Bae was a baby, we haven’t seen her since.” Milah leaving had hurt terribly at the time, but, deep down, Gold had always known that they were not suited to each other, and Milah knew that she was not suited to motherhood. Now he’d made his peace with it, and he and Bae were resolved to be a dynamic duo. “My aunt lives nearby; she looks after him whilst I’m at work. And now. Unlike Bae, she was ecstatic when she heard about the date. I was half-expecting her to tag along to make sure I’m not making a fool of myself and ruining my chances. She’s probably hiding out in the shop opposite with binoculars.”

Belle made a show of peering out of the window. “No, I think we’re safe. And for the record, you’re definitely not making a fool of yourself or ruining your chances.”

She leaned in a little closer, and her lips were so lovely and pink and kissable and Gold had to drag his thoughts firmly off that tangent and back to the matter at hand.

“So, what do you do all day at the business park?” he asked, trying to distract himself from what she’d just said.

“I answer phone calls from people who’ve managed to break their bespoke cybersecurity systems, and I stare at spreadsheets until my eyes bleed. Honestly, some days I go home, and I just see little squares superimposed onto everything.”

Gold had to laugh at the image. “Do you enjoy it?”

Belle wrinkled her nose. “It’s ok, I guess. I mean, it pays the rent and the bills so I can’t complain too much. I just never thought I’d end up in a nine-to-five office job. I always dreamed of adventure when I was younger, going out and seeing the world. I really liked the idea of being a National Geographic photographer.”

“What stopped you?”

“Lack of money and a severe lack of photography skills. What about you? Do you enjoy what you do?”

Gold nodded. “Yes. I may not get to see a lot of the world, but I see a lot of society. It’s a good job for people watching. All sorts of things happen on buses, you’d be surprised. And then, of course, there are the regulars.” He felt himself begin to redden in the cheeks and he had to look away from her disarming smile. “And it’s nice to know that I’m helping people, you know. Getting them from A to B.”

He’d never been the most outgoing of people, and this conversation he was having with Belle now was probably the longest he’d ever talked to someone who wasn’t an old friend or relative, but Gold still liked to be helpful if he could.

“Maybe you’ll inspire Bae to follow in your footsteps,” Belle suggested. Gold laughed.

“If you ask Bae right now what he wants to be when he grows up, it varies between T-rex, shark and tiger. Aunt Elvira’s determined that he’s going to be Prime Minister, but I think all his policies would be about the abolition of bedtimes.”

It felt good to be talking about Bae, especially with someone who seemed to be genuinely interested. Talking about his son was far easier than talking about himself, but now that thread of the conversation had come to a natural conclusion and he didn’t know where to go from there.

He pushed cake crumbs around his plate awkwardly, wishing that he knew what to say next. He enjoyed Belle’s company so much, her simple presence as well as her conversation, and he wanted this little moment to last forever.

Belle saved him, turning the talk to more neutral topics – books, films, music. Of course, the last book Gold had read was The Tiger Who Came To Tea, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched a film that wasn’t animated, but they soon discovered that they had very similar tastes in entertainment more suited to their own age group.

“Do you want to see a film next week, maybe?” Belle suggested tentatively. “If your aunt’s available to babysit, of course.”

“Oh, trust me, that won’t be a problem.” Aunt Elvira would quite happily drop everything to look after Bae if it meant that Gold was going out and getting himself a social life.

Gold just couldn’t believe that he’d managed to give a good enough impression on the first date that he was being asked on a second one already.  He surreptitiously pinched himself to check he wasn’t dreaming.

Belle was already looking up cinema listings on her phone. “The new adaptation of Sense and Sensibility is supposed to be very good, and it’s been out a couple of weeks already so it should be pretty quiet.”

Gold nodded. “That sounds perfect.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date to the cinema, and he wondered if he’d be able to get away with holding Belle’s hand in the dark without the excuse of it being a scary movie. They worked out the details and continued to talk for a little while, until Belle looked out of the window at the darkening sky.

“It looks like it’s going to pour down soon. We’d better leave, or we’ll be rained in here. Not that that would be a bad thing,” she added hastily.

“It’s ok, I know what you mean.” They left the coffee shop and Belle gave him her wonderful smile once more.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday, then.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering just a little too long for it to be a simple peck of greeting. Gold could only stand there, stunned whilst she giggled at his gobsmacked expression, dancing away into the oncoming rain.

He wasn’t as bad at this whole dating malarkey as he thought he was.

[lefaystrent]

LeFay’s Masterlist

Here’s a list of all of my Sanders Sides stories. There’s a lot down there. Lots of pairings, lots of genres. Don’t get lost.

ONE-SHOTS 

20biteen??? – Patton’s really confused and Logan’s just trying to make a sandwich.

A demon? In my attic? More likely than you think --  “Well that’s what happens when your dad asks you to clean the attic and it’s filled with a bunch of junk from his wiccan days,” Virgil explained, though from the demon’s pinched expression the explanation left a lot to be desired.

A Dire Situation -  Logan tries not to make a single move or sound. His whole body coils tight with tension, knowing that the animal can strike at any moment. (additional parts can be found here)

A Storm Rolled into Town -  It’s not like Virgil meant to become famous anyway. It just sorta happened. And now he’s shopping in some small-town mom-and-pop store on a weekday morning. Despite wearing the hood of his jacket up and perhaps looking the more conspicuous for it, he can sense that someone somewhere in this store is watching him.

Ashes –Three months ago, Roman returned home to find the house that he shared with his younger brothers up in flames.

Baby you’re a Firework - “Patton is MY best friend!” you screamed, and then you looked to me with those eyes. How else was I supposed to react other than to tell you that we would be together forever? Logicality

Beneath the Boughs –The feeling of tender fingertips tracing from his jaw to his temple made him want to run through fields, but he wouldn’t move an inch away from this spot for anything in the world. Royality

Curiosity – Deceit’s mission to annoy Logan somehow involves sharing a bed with him and refusing to leave. Logan doesn’t really mind. Loceit

Death of a Bachelor - Virgil invites a bunch of billionaires to his fake wedding with his roommate, Logan. He doesn’t expect one of them to actually agree to go. 

Dino – Patton visits his local library one day and meets the librarian Logan, a man who loves dinosaurs.

Down by the Pier – Patton lives by the ocean. He likes to go sit out on the pier because the view is sweet but the company is even sweeter. Moxiety

Every Friday Night – “There’s a cat? In the sink?” Virgil said. platonic LAMP

Existentialism – Patton is a demon and really bad at it.

Five Times – There were five times that Virgil’s path crossed with Logan Sanders. Each time memorable, each time helping to shape Virgil into the kind of person he wants to be. platonic Analogical

Flutter and Fall – Virgil doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he wonders if you can fall in love with a moment. Prinxiety

Happy Birthday, Virgil – Logan tends to take things literally.

Heartbeat – Roman’s out on the hunt for prey. He gets more than he bargained for.

Heartbeat AU – More info on the story.

Hello Mr. Spider -  He’s heard the screams of people whenever they lay eyes on him. They take one look at him, this monstrous being with too many limbs and eyes, and they quiver in fear and tears. He doesn’t blame them. He hides himself away, hoping to never hear those horrified screams. Moxiety

Hello Again -  Humans trespassed into the church occasionally. Some during the day, most of them at night. Never did humans come two nights in a row. Moxiety (Sequel to “Hello Mr. Spider”)

Hold On -  He felt someone grip the sleeve of his shirt. Logan looked to his side where Deceit stood, holding onto him. platonic Loceit

How to be a Good Person - “There’s an unconscious man in my flowerbed. What should I do with him?” Dee should be used to getting phone calls from his brother needing help. brotherly Moceit

I got to pet the dog -  Patton gets distracted easily. Virgil doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s supposed to be working.

I met God last night - Predictably, Patton looked up to stare at Virgil. He set aside his scrapbook, clasped his hands together, and said, “Okay, I’m listening.” platonic Moxiety

I wanna intimi(date) you — Virgil teaches Patton to be more intimidating. It doesn’t go very well.

In a magical kingdom far away… —  The evil Lord Of Logic descends on the land, forcing all it touches to obey the laws of physics.

It’s hot – Virgil won’t take off the jacket.

Love Isn’t Blind – Patton notices a lot more than what people think he does.

Never Too Old – Patton worked as a manager at a toy store in the mall. Lately, the employees were noticing a reoccurring customer. Well, if you could call him a customer. He never actually bought anything. platonic Moxiety

Picture That –  “What are you doing?” Patton says between a flurry of giggles. He lifts the book he’d been reading to half hide his face. Roman dances around him snapping pictures as if Patton is a model. Royality

Piggyback – It’s late, and Patton’s falling asleep on the couch. Virgil’s not used to being the responsible one. Moxiety

Potatoes – Virgil has worries for days, but there’s only one thing that truly scares him. Moxiety

Rewrite – So here Roman is, lying by the sidewalk, very much not okay. Not because the local squirrels ostracized him, and not because he’d tripped or some such unfortunate mishap. No, he just has a lot on his mind. Prinxiety

Ribbit – Two lab partners and one dead frog do not make for the most romantic atmosphere but Roman tries. Logince

Roamin’ Nights -  Not that anyone’s looking right now, but Virgil’s glad that it’s dark in the kitchen, lest the color in his cheeks show. Roman’s not usually this affectionate with Virgil. Makes him wonder if he even realizes that this is Virgil he’s basically trying to use as a pillow. Prinxiety

Round and round we go – Logan stood there long after the commotion began outside, the one where everyone realized what had happened and were running to help and call an ambulance.

Sacrificial rituals and other fun activities – Virgil was a mage—one of the best. He’d seen a lot of things, but a handsome man chained up in the middle of a field? Even he had to take a moment. Prinxiety

Shark Attack! -  “I could be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure sharks don’t attack their victims with hugs.” platonic Moxiety

Sicky Icky – Most people assumed Roman would eat up all the attention he could get even when sick. They’d expect loud dramatics and Roman acting like he was dying every minute of it. That’s not how he was at all. Logince

Side-by-side – Virgil’s tired. Moxiety

So help me, I’m not moving from this spot – Virgil has the day off from work and chooses to spend it in true Virgil style. Queer platonic LAMP

Soft Prinxiety – Literally just a softy prinxiety scene. Prinxiety

Some Days – Some days are better than others, and some aren’t. These are Virgil’s days in the mindscape.

Someday I’ll find my way home -  Love cut deep and left scars on the heart. The heart never quite beat the same way again afterward. Analogical

Supposed to be – People get locked into a certain kind of perspective and decide what kind of person you’re supposed to be. Patton is frustrated.

Take Over the World - There’s not much else to do in the Mindscape for Deceit and the Duke.

That one time Deceit played hero in the mindscape – Deceit goes to the common rooms to find that everyone…is acting too much like themselves.

The Hug Booth -  In Patton’s free time, he had a booth set up somewhere on campus and he’d go sit there. The booth advertised ‘free hugs’.

The Ties that Bind – Everyone has a soulmate. Even the ones who probably shouldn’t. Logicality

This is the police! – “This is the police! Open up! Tell me something about yourself, don’t be afraid.” Prinxiety

Ties - Roman and Patton try to persuade Logan to wear a bow tie. Logan is uncooperative. romantic LAMP

Trances – The sides go into trance-like states sometimes.

Trouble in Tiny Town -  Logan is six inches tall. And somehow the human is the one cowering in fear.

Useless gays are useless – Patton is shirtless and Roman and Virgil are very, very gay. Roman/Patton/Virgil

Stil Gay -  Roman and Virgil are still thirsty gays, and Patton is a tall drink of water. One night of tv watching with his roommates leads to none of them paying attention to the tv. Roman/Patton/Virgil (Sequel to “Useless gays are useless”)

Wake up call -  There’s a muffled siren blaring from outside somewhere. He can feel the time slipping between his fingers.

We are family~ - “Patton,” Logan called. He stood in the doorway, stern-faced for a moment before slumping forward with a pout. “I require physical affection.” platonic LAMP

MULTI-CHAPS

Analogince - What started as a list of headcanons became a story of how three men fell together. part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Dog Days – In the midst of grieving for his beloved pet, comfort comes to Thomas in a curiously small form. platonic LAMP/Thomas, borrower!sides 

If you have nightmares, we’ll dance on the bed - Fae thrived on chaos and the fear that came with it. Well, most of them anyway. Virgil never really shared that sentiment. (Or alternatively, the story of how Virgil loves humans so much that he makes stupid decisions because of it, like save princes from attempted assassinations.)

Kid!Logan AU – Logan somehow finds himself back in time, waking up in his eleven-year old body.

Reverse Kid!Logan AU –  Roman just wanted a normal babysitting job. Now he’s caught up in debunking why he sees five-year-old Logan Sanders as if he were a grown man. part one , part two

Lifeline – Long ago, when his sides first started showing up, Thomas had pondered long and hard about reality versus imagination. But this? It became more apparent that Patton was carding his hand through Thomas’s hair. It was as if any of his friends were doing it, so tangible it was. Tangible in a way that shouldn’t be possible. platonic LAMP/Thomas

Nursing Home AU -  Patton had seen Virgil during the hiring process, and his personality didn’t seem like a … good fit. Too closed-off and kinda gruff, and probably not a good bedside manner, right? Plus there was that criminal record to consider… But he’s hired anyway, and Virgil joins the staff.

Psychic Therapist Virgil – Virgil’s not your run-of-the-mill therapist. part one, part two

Roses – The humans steer clear from the forest, warning their children with every generation, “Do not stray into those woods. They will devour you.” But it’s modern times now, fairy tales aren’t real, and Virgil and his friends have just moved into town and want to investigate the ‘haunted’ forest.

Variants – Patton was surprised by the mutant breaking into the jewelry store one night. And by break in, he meant that they seeped into shadows and appeared on the other side of the windows without breaking anything at all.

Weclome to the Neighborhood –Virgil’s really bad at peopling, or so his new neighbors find out. Prinxiety

Witch Way -  Virgil just wants to live a quiet life with his familiar, Logan. But we can’t always get what we want.

[mothman-is-my-girlfriend]

one thing i miss about being a kid is just. the VHS players and the old brick of a TV my family had. The cassette deck in my mom's old corolla. the massive computer on the cheap little pressed wood desk from ikea, with the curved screen, and space pinball, and playing zoo tycoon crammed onto one computer chair with my brother. the sounds the motem would make while it dialed on - my mom downloaded this little cursor (and probably 1 million viruses, because she still didn't quite understand the internet in 2004) that looked like a clam, and it would make bubbles while you scrolled. the playstation 2 in my brother's room. (He'd hand me the second controller and then Not Plug It In to "let me play" with him. He had all these dumb games... like some spongebob game... but he also had really cool ones, like medal of honor, and I remember the level with D Day. my favorite game to watch him play was Battle Front 2.)

Sometimew I miss the simpler times - the hazy images on the old TV from the VHS player. the little jumps the screen would sometimes make. rewinding the tape to return it to the shelf or to blockbuster. (my mom getting mad at my brother when he didn't rewind the tape). my brother used to let me watch him play games on the computer sometimes. I was so little that I'd perch on the arm of the computer chair and watch him add dinosaurs to a zoo... and then delete a wall in the cage so they chased the people. or he'd add a lion to the zebra cage. (He wasn't very good at it) my dad would play a game on a floppy disk sometimes that I didn't understand, but I liked to watch the little battle animations of the planes going down that would pop up in the corners. the floppy disk is long since obsolete, but I showed him how to play that same game online recently. he's up in the office almost every night playing it. it almost reminds me of being 5 again.

i remember when myspace was in it's infancy, and I experienced the site through my mom's eyes. she would log on and chat with her friends about jimmy buffett. her bio was in comic sans. her profile picture was the fin of a shark. i would get bored watching her scroll and check emails and would request that she load a webpage that had farting dogs. I'm not entirely sure why I was so amused by it. i remember my mom's corolla, and daydreaming to the radio or whatever tape she had in. i remember the time her car got a flat tire and my side of the car would thunk every few seconds.

i remember when my family would sit at one table. and the bird would get out and steal my dad's food. i remember when we would sit on one couch, all crammed together to watch reruns of M*A*S*H on the square TV. that thing weighed more than i did. i remember the times we posed for family photos. i remember the way they hung in the stairwell. i remember...

i remember so much of my childhood. i miss so much of my childhood. i miss the simple days, when things made sense, and my family was in one place. i miss not having to worry about being enough, or being a burden, or not knowing what i wanted to do in life.

no one ever talks about these things, that i miss. the VHS tapes are all in a box in the upstairs closet. the pictures from the old computer are all stored somewhere new. the family photo hangs above my bed instead of the stairwell. the old TV was thrown out 3 years ago when my mom just got tired of having it. my family eats at two different tables. in two different houses. my parents live with two different people. and no one ever talks about these things. so they just sit in the back of my mind. collecting dust.