#idea brain going brrrrrrr

[ratchets-old-hands]

I have no free time rn but I really wanna write about disability in Transformers more. Yes I’m absolutely projecting but it genuinely interests me. Considering writing a series of analyses where each one’s how a character’s disability physically works and how they’ve adapted their life around it.

[seeminglyseph]

Eurylochus: Damn, you kiss your wife with that mouth, Captain?

Odysseus: Yeah, and you kiss my sister with yours, so you better watch it. Understood?

[dxrktopaz]

date concept we go out without me wearing underwear and at any point of our date you get to fill me up as much as possible whenever the fuck you want

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

ideas you wanted ideas I deliver

that heart event where Lance is like, "wanna accompany me while I work in the Badlands?" But instead of the farmer, he asks Isaac because he needs someone to "watch his back", he really doesn't, he just wants Isaac to spend a day off work but the man refuses to take any vacation

I think Lance was talking about it in Highlands, not Crimson Baldlans. On the other hand, why not describe Badlands too?

Thank you for this fluff idea and enjoy!☺️🫰

"Right behind you"

________________________________________

"Such amazing landscapes... put me in a dreamy thoughts."

Isaac didn't understand what kind of "dreamy thoughts" could be set by the crimson horizon and endless sandstorm, where monsters from the darkest depths were swarming. Maybe, for example, mighty snow-capped mountains, or a calm peaceful green meadow covered with flowers of different shapes and colors - he can see the beauty and greatness in something like this. But here? This view at the Crimson Baldlans post is just sad and depressing. But Lance apparently knew better.

"And what do you dream about? About busty women and where to get drunk?"

The scarred adventurer's comment made Lance chuckle a little. But it wasn't mostly because of Isaac's rather peculiar sense of humor, but the fact that, having been a couple for about a year now, he hadn't stopped hiding his soft spot behind a crude mask of indifference and cold-bloodedness even in front of Lance.

"My oh my," Lance hummed, turning his violet eyes straight into a pair of Isaac's dark, anthracite eyes. "I don't recall you being the jealous type."

In the past, Isaac would have furrowed his eyebrows at his pink-haired lover's attempt to tease him, but it had become such a routine for them that now Isaac just rolled his eyes. In another exchange of barbs, it was a draw for these two.

"While such a view may, and deservedly so, be repulsive, I find Crimson Baldlans mesmerising in its own way." Lance once again directed his gaze to the horizon, watching the infernal sun slowly fade into the sunset.

"I've seen enough of that already. And..." Isaac's voice became half a tone quieter and his dark eyes filled with sadness, "when I look at the Badlands, all I see are their faces..."

Lance looked at him sympathetically. Seeing Isaac so vulnerable and grief stricken was painful. The ghosts of his fallen comrades still haunted him, and he still berated himself for failing to protect them. Well, Lance can't afford for his partner to go back to being in pain, can he? And it's better to start with a change of scenery.

"Well, then I suggest you enjoy some other, equally breathtaking view. Besides, I was going to ask for your help on my patrol anyway."

"How is it that the great second-in-command of the First Slash Clan and hero of noble bloods can't handle a couple of slimes in the woods?" Anything to take his mind off the intrusive thoughts and faces of dead adventurers, anything, get him out of here, this is unbearable, anything...

"I wouldn't call them an inconsequential problem. The monsters there are quite a threat, they are stronger and more ferocious than their counterparts in the Mines. There's a one particular monster at the top of Highlands that we've called 'The Bully'. And if you're interested, you can come with me and find out why."

Both men stood silent for half a minute before Isaac finally said: "Alright. Let's go." Lance smiled softly.

"Take my hand. And no need to make that face, dear," the gallant adventurer laughed slightly as his dark-haired lover rolled his eyes again.

It was one thing to teleport yourself to the right place with a totem, and quite another to feel the threads of someone else's magic surrounding you for a moment.

Lance was right - the forest area in the Highlands was truly mesmerising and alive.

"Ah, now that's a view..." Lance took a deep breath of fresh air, enjoying the light breeze of the spring wind.

"...Yeah, really beautiful." Isaac's gaze, though, was directed at Lance himself, who was distracted by considering the terrain.

"I meant the scenery, my dear."

Or not so distracted.

Isaac immediately decided to change the subject, feeling his cheeks flush slightly at the realisation that Lance had caught his gaze. "So are we going after your 'Bully' or not?"

"This way," the pink-haired man's smile grew even bigger, and he strode forward down the familiar path while Isaac walked behind him.

Whoever this Bully is, he wouldn't dare touch Lance, Isaac thought, keeping up with his lover and occasionally grumbling at the thick bushes that were always snagging his already battered cloak.

[qourmet]

a part of me is Really tempted to just start rounding up any of the related pieces & posts to this & just put them on one post, , ,, maybe eventually

anyways more modern!cultivator au that won't stop swarming around my head like an angry hornet

don't get me wrong i Love forlorn & pining lan wangji, but my favorite iteration of him is still Angry and I Don't Understand Why I'm Attracted to That. That is the version that fuels the cat & dog fighting/chase that leads itself with flirting taunts & "look at me" "you don't give me a choice to look anywhere else" push pull that claws my brain real good

so all i can think of is What's the Quickest Way to Make lwj Mad & the answer is flirting, girls, wanton behavior, an overall life of debauchery On Top Of Dealing frivolously with the Dead. they dont officially meet until they're well into their 20s & by then its bcos there's too much fierce-corpse activity going on that Someone needs to find & deal with the source

[otaku-dragon-lover]

Borrowers, Greeed, and A Chance Encounter

Tldr: A pair of cursed siblings run into a monster hunter, one who isn't as human as he lets on.

Why yes this is inspired by that one Supernatural g/t fic series.

Okay, so this wasn't how Jonas expected his day to go.

Now! Before anyone judges him, he hadn't thought his actions through! He'd just seen… something and reacted!

Ugh… maybe he should start from the beginning.

------------

It all started right when he checked in, funnily enough. The moment he'd entered the dingy motel room, his senses picked up on… something. Well, multiple somethings was more accurate.

Tiny lights shone from within the walls of the Phoenix Roost motel, like little beacons resting behind the dull red wallpaper. He'd blinked a couple times, shaking his head to rid himself of the sight.

That was his sixth sense; it didn't really have a name, but his was basically empathy, so he's been sticking with that. It lets him sense the feelings and desires of any (living) thing around him. At least, within about a twenty foot radius? He'd never really tested it. But, he'd mused as he set his bag on the bed, it's probably just mice or something.

Yeah… "or something" alright.

----------------

The second time he hadn't seen anything - he'd heard it.

It was two days later. He'd been sitting on the bed, gray sheets that he's pretty sure used to be white pooling on his lap. Sitting on top of this was his (borrowed) laptop, opened and glowing as he'd begun his research. A black trenchcoat had been resting beside him, placed in such a way that any passing glances couldn't spot the scabbard holding his weapon of choice.

…Okay saying that makes him sound paranoid, but after everything he's been through it's warranted!

After several hours, he'd stretched back and yawned. Several points in his arms and back popped as the stiffness had been worked out. One particularly loud pop from his wrist made his knuckles knock against the wall behind him.

Now, this in and of itself wasn't unusual. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't have even been noteworthy.

Buuuuut then his ears picked up a yelp from the wall behind him, the noise so sudden and close that he'd flinched back in shock. It wasn't even very loud, most people probably wouldn't have heard it.

Of course, he wasn't exactly "most people". His heightened sense of hearing made it child's play to pick up the noise.

He'd blinked a few times, not quite processing what he'd heard. That… that had to've been some tennant nextdoor, right? But- No, he knew for a fact that the room hadn't been rented out. He would've heard someone long before this incident. Plus, him hitting the wall like that wasn't nearly loud enough to be heard from the other room.

Then there was what his empathy picked up. The burst of, fear-panic-don'tgetcaught-wasIcaught? Was all the more unusual.

His first thought had been, 'What, is this guy on the run or something?' Which… oh boy had he hoped that wasn't the case.

Either way, he'd just scared the daylights out of someone. The least he could do was apologize.

Shifting to his knees, he'd crawled over and leaned close to the wall. With his ear pressed against it, he began speaking, tone loud enough to be heard from the room over.

"U-Um, hello? I-If you can hear me, I-I'm sorry for scaring y-you."

He'd waited a few seconds for a response, but after hearing nothing he sighed and returned to his research.

He had a monster to catch, after all.

------------------

Which leads him to today. When his already weird life took a turn for the batshit.

It was about… 7:30 in the evening, and he'd been at a desk placed near the room's window. Spread out on it was a large map of the town and surrounding desert. In his right hand had been a pen, which he'd been mindlessly tapping against a small notebook. His left hand - wrapped tightly in black fabric - was resting in his lap, occasionally twitching.

The day… hadn't been great, from the start a storm had rolled in the night before. Which forced him to ride around town in the rain (the motorcycle wasn't such a good idea, in hindsight), searching for any leads on the monster. This mostly boiled down to… well, asking if anyone noticed anything strange recently.

The questioning was a total bust. For starters, there weren't many people out due to the weather, and those that were weren't any help! No substantial leads jumped out to him, and it made him feel like he was going in circles-!

The feeling of uselessness had nearly drowned him, knowing that this thing was out there - that people could be attacked or killed at any moment - while he was here chasing his own tail. It was infuriating.

Getting back on track, he'd been trying to narrow down possible places where the thing could be hiding. It had to be somewhere relatively close to town, but not close enough for anyone to spot it. Unfortunately, being an old desert town in Arizona made this harder. Not to mention all the old buildings from around the time of the gold rush, and don't even get him started on the mine-!

It was then that he'd seen it out of the corner of his eye, a flash of movement accompanied by the patter of small feet.

By the time he'd processed this, his left hand had already shot forward and snagged the thing. His body was dragged along, scrambling for purchase as his hand closed around… whatever that this was.

His grip was probably too tight, but that wasn't his main concern.

It had reared it's ugly head.

It had a name, but he didn't think it really… fit anymore. It's original consciousness was long gone, what he was currently stuck with was just the lingering remains. So… they weren't technically the same. If that made sense?

Even if It was just a husk, it still terrified him.

Ĉ̸̮͕̹̪̖̀͘͜r̸̻̽̈́̌̈͘u̸̡̝̦̟̙͛͆̏͒̌̈̅̈́͆͊̐͊ş̷̤̙̙̯͍̜̩̼͉̜̞̬̝̱̽h̷͈̲̒͌͆́͘͘ ̴̡̨͔͇͈̲̘̼̻̗̫͙̻͖̼̅̏̀̇̌̀̇͑͒̋͑͝ͅͅḯ̴̹͇̦̙̜͈̝̹͎̳̭͙t̶̡̢̞̗͎̩̦̱̺̠̜̦̪̤̜̑̈́̈́͑́̉͂͐͂͛͂̉͒͠͠.

'Nonononono!' He'd panicked, fighting for control of his own body, 'Not now! Why now?!'

Ş̷̡̺̯͔̣̞̮̬̩͍̝̫̪̖̰͐̇̽̐̋̅͘͝ư̶̜̫͕̤͕͋̎c̷̰̮͎̀͛͂͐̽͌͐͋͐̂̚h̵̢̙̫̺̺̲̱̦̻̦͇̜̤̓͛ ̷̢̨̨̧͔̫̰̲̣͈̙͇̙̭͓̣͂͗̅̒͋̔͆a̶̟̒̅̆̓̈́͑̂̈́̒͐͑̂ ̸̧̛̬͈̪́̚͝f̷̨̡̨͇̯̲̪̰̦̺̣̖̝̥̭̲͆̊̀̓̂̎̍̆͛̏̋͘͜͝ȩ̷̡̢̢̧̛̱̜̥̝͕͉̗͓̯̯̩̅͆̌͗̾ȩ̸̩͖̳̠͖̮̘̝̺͈͎̱̤͖͐͋̄͜ͅb̵̨̹̥̖̰̮̯͔̦̟͓͉͚̝̈́̀̎̋̈͂̍͊́̈́́͆͗̌̚͜͝ĺ̴̢͍̫̩͔̪͈͚̥̖̝̺̦͇̈̕ͅę̸̼̣̹͒̆̓̽̋̐̄̌̕ ̴͓̺͔̱͖̥͚̤͖̟̗͆͋͘͜͜ĉ̵̢̢̟͉̻̘̮̼̤̜̣̟̼̙̙̹͐͐͛̿͊́̈̕r̵̛͔̬̺̖̮͕͋͌̄̾é̴̢̨̛̱͉̼͇̞̄̏̅̌̈͛̅͗͂͘͝͝â̶̢̡̗̝̘ẗ̴̙̹͐́̏̋̈́̒̈́̌̍͠ṵ̴̡̰͓̙͍̹̼̺͕͇̳̯͔̗̖͐̚r̷̼̈́̅̈́̂͛ê̶̢̼͍͇͎̗̳̝̞͕̟̗̜̙̜̈́͜ͅ.̶̢̠̰͚̲͍̹͇̥̥̣͎͛͆̑̎͑͌̍̀̋̆

He'd felt his hold grow tighter, he gritted his teeth as he tried to pry the out-of-control limb open, 'Fuck off.'

D̵͈̞̟̣̺̹̤̺͉̬̞̮̱̲̩̭͐͋́̀̿̏̈́̀̍̍̔̄̚e̸̖̞͔̮͚̞̖͈̰͋̊̐s̸̳͍̐̅t̷̜̖̤̬̮͍̫̱̩̹͖̞͉͉̝̖̻̚ŗ̷̣̲͇̩̥̼͇̩͎̗̘̿̅̂̓̀͐̐̈́̈́̓̈́͊͘̚͝͝ͅö̸̢͈͚̰̂̄͆͒͆̇͊̏̋̃͛̔͘y̶̔̾̈̆̄̆̏̋ͅ ̵̧̧̧̬̦̜̣͖̯͚̦̣̼̻̰̮͊͌̂͒͐͆͑͛͜i̸̛̩̤͉̖̳͍̖̪͖͓̤̩̠͚͛͛͆̓̇̇̈́̏̚̚t̷̟̺̯͙͕͙̳̟͖̼̫̒̾́̎́̑͘͜��̧͓̹.̷̱̱͕͔̰̘̤͖̼̦̜̖̫͉̟̒̀̈́͌́͊̓̃̆͒

'No,' He'd growled at It, slowly wrestling his hand into relaxing, 'you don't get to control what I do! So. Back. Off!'

With that final command, the hand suddenly went limp, the poor creature held within dropping like a stone. Jonas panicked, and quickly swooped his other hand under them.

He felt the glamour he'd set up upon entering town flicker, fading after a few feeble attempts to stabilize. The more… unusual aspects of his appearance becoming easily seen.

The very human gasp he heard upon it's landing nearly made him jump out of his skin. His eyes locked on the tiny figure, shock and horror filling him as he took it's - no his - features in.

The humanoid figure was on his hands and knees in Jonas' palm, gasps for air that wouldn't have broken a faint whisper emanating from him. The little guy's skin was deathly pale - but Jonas couldn't tell if it was from fear, or lack of sun exposure. A curtain of dark brown hair obscured his face, and there was no way Jonas was moving the guy.

The guy was wearing home-made clothes - not to say they were bad or anything! Actually, if Jonas didn't know any better he'd say they were professionally made! The blue long-sleeved shirt looked like something he'd find in a clothing store, and… were those jeans? The tiny bag looks good too. Heck, even the "shoes" looked nice.

Speaking of, there's a good reason he called them "shoes".

Outside of the bipedalism, clothes, and hair… that was where the similarities ended. For starters, the tiny man's legs were bent like a dog's, ending in four-toed feet decked out with sharp claws.

'Digitigrade. Helps them move around quicker.' He could help noting, this in spite of his still very present horror at - y'know, nearly crushing someone.

Thin (at least from his prospective) strips of leather were fashioned into shoes, wrapping around his feet snugly like a tiny snake. Thinking about it now, yeah it made sense. Normal shoes probably wouldnt've worked with this guy's anatomy.

Moving on, the guy also had a tail. It wasn't some thin little thing like a rat or mouse, it looked like it had some decent muscle on it (at least for it's size). There was a line of… fur? hair? running down the top of it as well (extra warmth, maybe?). Jonas could also feel several pinpricks around where the guy's fingers were, claws?

'Could help with balance and climbing…'

Eventually the guy's breathing sounded less… bad, it still sounded way too shallow but considering the circumstances… yeah Jonas wasn't gonna rag on him.

He felt him shift and - wow did that feel weird. Like - holy shit, he was holding an entire person right now whatthefuck-!

A person that he'd nearly killed, because he couldn't control It. Couldn't keep It from taking over his own damn body!

God he was pathetic; and he thought he could save them? That he could handle this all by himself? Hah, what a joke. He couldn't even control the parasite that he was stuck with!

Pain-fear-confused-howamIalive?

His self-deprecating thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as light blue met brown.

-----------------

Sam was confident that he (and to a lesser extent his brother) had the worst luck ever.

Before today, the most obvious evidence for this was their curse. Him and his brother Dean were shrunken and turned into… whatever you wanted to call them (Dean often joked about them being Borrowers, but Sam didn't see the resemblance). It had happened a decade ago, and the duo had been forced to survive in the motel on their own ever since. They didn't know what'd happened to their dad, the man was long gone when they'd woken up, and there was no way they could've gone after him. Not at their current size.

It wasn't all bad, as Dean had pointed out numerous times, they still had each other at least. Plus, they'd met a few people sharing their stature (but they didn't look as… unique as the Winchesters; their appearance resembling a human, just… smaller) who'd taught them a few tricks to help them survive. Even then though, they were pretty much left on their own.

That was probably because of their height amongst… other reasons. Himself especially was taller than the other tiny people, they guessed he was a little over half a foot tall. The others they'd met, by contrast, were around… four inches tall at most? Dean was shorter than him, being just under six inches, but even he was taller than the average wall person.

The past few days had been… weird. The new tenant had nearly scared the daylights out of him several times, the kid always seeming to know his general location. He still hadn't told Dean about the knocking incident - about the teenager apologizing for scaring him. He hadn't responded, standing motionless until he heard the kid move.

Under normal circumstances, he would've stayed far away from the teen's room after that. Sadly, the motel was in the middle of a dry spell. Almost no people had visited in the past few weeks, meaning their food supply was getting dangerously low. On top of that, Dean had gotten injured fighting off a rat, preventing him from going on supply runs.

Sam knew his brother was beating himself up about it, he'd had to stop him from sneaking out numerous times before. It had taken many promises ("Of course I'll be careful." "I won't get caught don't worry.") and more than a couple bribes, but he'd finally persuaded Dean to stay in their room until he'd healed.

Now though? Sitting on his knees in the palm of a giant, the two of them staring at each other with wide eyes? Some small part of him definitely wished his brother was here.

But, looking at him now, he noticed that the kid looked… different? From the few times Sam had seen him, the younger Winchester knew generally what he looked like: messy short blond hair, light blue eyes, a young face, and tan skin. His clothing choices were… interesting for a place like this; a black trenchcoat with white trimming that looked several sizes too big, a white turtle neck, jeans, and black hiking boots.

Then he saw the guy's appearance… flicker? a few times, before settling on something different.

Now the guy's hair looked white, almost seeming to glow under the waning sunlight. He watched the kid open his mouth like he was about to speak, only to close it a second later, but it was more than long enough to catch sight of several abnormally sharp teeth. There were also faint scars on his face, the most obvious one being on the bridge of his nose.

He felt the kid's pulse pounding erratically beneath him, as if the teen's panic wasn't obvious enough just from looking at him. The skin beneath him was now several shades paler; Sam could hear quick and shallow breaths, the breeze caused by them ruffling his hair.

He was also shaking, which made the younger Winchester really grateful for his tail. Said appendage twitched, curling around his legs under the human's scrutiny.

The human who - not even ten minutes ago- nearly crushed him, nearly killed him with an ease that made Sam's skin crawl. The helplessness of his situation was made horrendously clear in an instant. The kid's hand had snatched him up quicker than he'd expected, moving so fast that he hadn't been able to react.

Now he was sore, bruised, and his fate was in the literal hands of a giant.

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like ages, the kid - Sam assumed - sizing him up as much as he was.

"I-I'm-"

"Uh-"

Sam and the kid blinked, both of them looking at each other in surprise.

The teen blushed, seeming embarrassed as his voice rippled through the Winchester's body, "O-Oh, g-go ahead."

The smaller man winced at the volume, making the kid duck his head in shame.

Well, this was an interesting turn of things. He rolled his eyes, fear abating the longer he went without being hurt. The kid's awkward stuttering helped, that and his expression made Sam think of a puppy… or maybe a baby mouse.

"For starters, don't talk so loud, okay?" He replied, raising his voice so the teen could hear him. He was a little surprised by how quickly he found his voice, slowly standing as the kid's shaking steadied a bit. He adjusted his duffel bag as he balanced, gripping the strap for some form of support.

The kid nodded slightly, voice much quieter now, "R-Right. I-I could hear y-you fine b-by the way."

The tiny man nodded, glancing around before repeating himself, "Can you put me down?"

"O-Oh, s-sure!" He blinked before looking hesitant, "…A-Are… A-Are you g-going to r-run away?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked the kid in the eye, "That depends on what you'll do. Are you gonna try trapping me? Or killing me?"

A cross between disgust and horror appeared, twisting the teen's massive face as he replied, "N-No! I-I wouldn't-! I-If I hadn't-!"

The vehemence of his words surprised Sam; if that was the case, then why did he…?

The Winchester shook his head, holding his hand up in mock surrender, "Easy, easy. I didn't mean any-"

"N-No i-it's fine!" The kid cut him off, holding his free hand up before glaring at it, "Y-You have every r-right to n-not trust me."

An awkward silence filled the room, the teen refusing to meet Sam's eyes. He watched the kid's free hand reach up; the Winchester flinched and tensed up, expecting the worst. But his fears were unfounded, as the hand stopped near the teen's collarbone and began fiddling with something under his shirt.

"…U-Um," The human still refused to meet his gaze, staring at the cluttered desk instead, "c-can I p-put you o-on the d-desk?"

"Oh, yeah that works. Thanks." Sam shuffled awkwardly, blanching as the "ground" moved with him.

He flinched when the kid's fingers curled up, the digits freezing as he backed away.

The kid wilted as he looked at him, "U-Um… I-I don't w-want you t-to- N-Nevermind. I-I'm sorry."

He was about to respond, but the teen suddenly turned. Sam stumbled, grabbing the kid's thumb for balance as his entire world swayed.

"S-Sorry!" The giant teen whimpered, Sam waved him off as he calmed his nerves. Of course, that was hard to do when every step vibrated through his body and stent him tumbling.

Thankfully, the desk wasn't far away. After a few moments of awkward shuffling, the teen's hand slowly lowered onto the desktop. Sam waited until the fingers were flattened against the cheap wood before bolting off, feeling a massive wave of relief when his feet met solid ground.

This was short-lived when he turned around, watching as an arm over triple his size retreated. The hand attached to it beginning to fiddle with whatever was under his shirt, the kid's left hand dropping to his side.

The teen stared at him for a second, frowning in contemplation before glancing at the abandoned chair he'd been sitting in. He hummed quietly (for him) before looking around the room.

Sam tilted his head, "Uh-?"

The kid suddenly moved, coat trailing behind him as he headed for the bed. Sam raised an eyebrow, about to speak up when the human grabbed one of the pillows.

Object in hand, the white-haired giant returned to the desk. He set it down on the floor about a foot or two away from Sam's perch, scooting it a bit before sitting on it with his knees.

The Winchester was impressed; like this the kid was at about eye level with him, which made talking feel a lot more easy.

"I-I… I um…" The teen fumbled for the right words, looking him over as he spoke, "I-I'm so so sorry a-about… y-y'know."

Sam stayed quiet, tail flicking as he watched the kid closely. He looked like he had more to say.

"C-Can I- Y-You're not… h-hurt or a-anything, a-are you?"

He shrugged, rolling his shoulders to test them, "A little sore, but otherwise I'm fine."

The kid's expression brightened, looking both happy and relieved, "T-That's great! I-I mean, I-I'm glad y-you're okay!"

Sam let out an amused huff, "Thanks, kid."

His brow furrowed as he thought of something, crossing his arms as he spoke, "So, what was up with nearly crushing me? Because something isn't adding up here."

The teen flinched, rubbing the back of his head, "A-Ah. W-Well… it's a l-long story."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

The kid wilted almost instantly, "I-I… can't c-control it sometimes, it j-just kinda…" He gestured vaguely with his left hand, glaring at it, "lashes o-out."

Yikes… no wonder he was so apologetic, "What causes it? Is it a medical condition or…?"

He winced, putting his hands in his lap, "L-Like I said: it's a l-long story."

'Or something you don't want to talk about.' Sam added mentally, but let the subject drop.

"O-Oh, by the way," The kid mimed snapping his fingers, looking like he'd just remembered something, "w-what's your name? M-Mine's Jonas Ryusuké."

He debated telling the teen - Jonas; on one hand, the guy had offered his name up first. On the other… well, Dean would be pissed for one. There was also the problem of secrecy, he didn't want the other wall people to get hurt because of his stupidity.

But… if he was careful, then it should be fine?

"…Sam. Sam Winchester." He finally answered, staring defiantly at the giant.

Jonas beamed, his massive shoulders shifting like he was about to lift his arms. But as quickly as Sam saw this, the veritable cliffs relaxed, the teenager attached to them giving him a sheepish look.

"I-It's nice to meet you, Sam. I-I'd shake your hand, b-but…" He gestured between the two of them with his head, keeping his hands in his lap, "P-Plus I d-don't think you w-want to be near me after… t-that."

"…Not right now, no." He couldn't help agreeing. Despite knowing the teen didn't mean any harm, Sam still watched his movements carefully.

Another bout of silence descended, though it wasn't as tense nor as awkward. It was… oddly pleasant, in spite of everything.

He looked at the items scattered on the desktop, zeroing in on the giant map taking up most of the space. It was an… oddly familiar sight. Not exactly the map itself, but the general set-up instead. The feeling nagged at him as he stared at the items, digging at his mind with a nostalgia that he just… couldn't place for the life of him.

It took several more seconds of staring before it hit him, his brain finally reminding him where he'd seen this before:

Back before their curse, Sam could remember seeing his dad hunched over different maps or books, his journal opened at his side.

This lead to an obvious conclusion, one that made his anxiety skyrocket.

'Shit… is this kid a Hunter?!'

It'd explain how the kid moved so fast - and how he'd even spotted Sam in the first place. Hunters had to be on-edge almost 24/7, unless they wanted to get killed by a vampire or something.

But then… why hadn't he killed him? He'd never heard of a Hunter sparing a "monster" before, they just shot first and asked questions never.

"I-Is everything alright?" Jonas was staring at him, curiosity obvious.

Deciding to fish for info, he responded with his own question: "What's with the map?"

The teen blinked, eyes flicking to the paper for a second, "O-Oh, um, w-well…"

He rubbed the back of his head, sighing as he continued, "I-I… dunno if y-you'd believe me if I told you."

Sam snorted despite himself, gesturing to himself before raising an eyebrow.

"F-Fair enough." The kid huffed, amusement clear as he slowly stood up, "G-Gimme a sec…"

He carefully sat down at the desk, the chair creaking as his weight settled on it. He glanced at Sam before flattening the map out, the noise making his ears hurt a bit.

Once Jonas gave him the okay, he stepped cautiously onto it. The vague smell of ink permeated the thing, and he didn't have to look far for an answer.

Long black pen strokes spread out beneath him, forming large X's over parts of town. He saw a few question marks next to some spots, and circle encompassing others.

…His Hunter theory was getting more credible by the minute.

He got confirmation about two seconds later.

"I-I'm trying to t-track down something," Jonas admitted as he scooted closer to the table, trying to lean on his crossed arms without looming over Sam, "s-something that could e-easily wipe this town o-off the map if it wanted to."

Off the map? What the hell was he after?!

"…Do you know what it is?" He asked after finding his voice, "That might help narrow down locations."

"T-That's the problem!" The teen groaned in admittance, leaning back and throwing his hands up, "I-I know what it is, b-but these t-things vary so much that I can't pin them down!"

He sounded distraught, hiding his face in his hands. His elbows were resting on the table still; despite his fears, Sam walked forward and patted the teen's massive sleeve.

"Hey, it's okay." He couldn't help saying, before leaning into the "oblivious bystander" act some more, "If you're so hung up on this - and if it's as dangerous as you say - then why not go to the police?"

He already knew the answer, it'd been drilled into him for as long as he could remember:

The police couldn't handle the things that go bump in the night, not like Hunters could. They weren't trained to deal with ghosts, demons, or werewolves (and to quote his father directly, "would only get in the way.").

He was only really asking because it'd help gauge the kid's character - help let Sam know if he was trustworthy. Because Hunters (any human really) were dangerous to people like him, no matter how "harmless" they looked.

It took the kid a second to respond, his voice muffled by his hands, "T-They wouldn't b-be able to help, n-not against this thing."

One of his hands moved, fingers combing through his hair, "These t-things… normal w-weapons don't do a-anything to them, they only m-make them more mad. B-Besides, even if I did a-and they believed me…"

He looked at him suddenly, eyes filled with a steely determination that took Sam aback, "there n-no way in hell I'd j-just leave it there. Not w-when people are in d-danger - when I could d-do something to s-stop it."

The tone he used surprised him too; it wasn't the meek one he was slowly getting used to, this was one that held confidence. Despite not knowing if Jonas could back up his big talk, Sam couldn't help but believe him.

"…Alright," He sighed dipping his head slightly, "if you say so."

The teen fidgeted, bitting his lip before suddenly speaking, "U-Um… i-it feels l-like I'm missing s-something here," he gestured to the mess with a massive sweep of his hand, "l-like I'm r-running in circles. I-If you w-want… I-I could use a s-second o-opinion."

Sam's eyes widened at the implication; he… the kid couldn't be asking him for help, right? That- that was just impossible-!

Granted, this entire encounter's been nothing but improbable, but that's beside the point!

After a beat of shocked silence he found his voice, "You… you want my help?"

The teen nodded emphatically, bangs flopping down in front of his eyes slightly, "Y-Yeah! A fresh s-set of eyes c-could find something t-that I missed."

"Are… A-Are you sure?" Sam winced as his voice cracked, "I don't think I'd be much help considering… y'know,"

He pointed at the both of them, watching the kid's eyes follow his every miniscule move.

Jonas scoffed at the motion, "O-Oh c'mon! J-Just because you're s-small doesn't mean y-you can't help!"

Sam looked at the teen in disbelief, "You- I- What?!"

The giant flinched back, head tilting innocently, "I-Is… is that a-a no?"

"No! That's not-!" He groaned, shaking his head as he calmed his breathing, "That's not what I meant. I just- I'm surprised you'd want my help."

"Surprised that you're not freaking out more, too." He added under his breath, because even if this guy was a Hunter (and a new one at that), something like Sam would probably freak anyone out.

He wasn't expecting the sympathetic smile that the teen gave him, nor the reply said in a kind and soft voice, "I've m-met a few inhuman people in the p-past, some g-good, a-a lot b-bad. Y-You'd need to do a l-lot to s-scare me; a-are you a little weird? S-Sure, b-but you s-seem nice enough. P-Plus…"

"Plus…?" The question slipped from the cursed man's lips, his mind stuck on the teen's other words. He'd never expect anyone - much less a human - would say such things about him, or anyone like him.

It was… unbelievable would be an understatement.

Jonas seemed to - he almost seemed to know; his massive face softening before he began moving. Slowly and carefully - more carefully than he ever thought a human could move - he slipped out of his chair, sitting on his knees as he bent down to Sam's eye level.

"…Y-You know more than you're l-letting on, I c-can s-sense it."

His thoughts screeched to a halt, because… what?! More importantly, how?!

The teen squirmed, drawing back a smidge as he fidgeted, "I-It's not… it's not s-something I'm u-used to explaining…"

That… doesn't answer his questions, but alright then.

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His tail flicked this way and that in irritation; he'd never been good at controlling the thing, not as good as Dean anyway.

It's just - this kid, who's so drenched in the supernatural -so obviously a Hunter - that it's not even funny, but somehow so… so ignorant of it at the same time, like a living paradox that shouldn't exist.

Huh, guess they had something in common there.

Yet despite that, here he was! Asking him - someone who's barely taller than his ankle - for help on a case! No matter how many times he repeated it in his mind, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. It was such an unbelievable - unfathomable - idea that his subconscious outright rejected it.

What was even worse was despite all of the warning signs, all of the red flags, all of his instincts screaming at him that it was a trap… he wanted to say yes.

Ever since the curse - ever since they'd found out that they were different, even amongst the wall people - Sam had fought to prove himself. Whether it be to his brother, the other residents of the walls, or hell even to himself - he needed to prove that him and his weren't just… just useless freaks!

With a stray thought of 'fuck it', he threw caution to the wind.

"Sure, I'll help you."

It was like Sam had just told him Christmas had come early; Jonas' posture brightened as a massive grin spread across his face. This one was all teeth, the serrated dentitions looking like a cross between a dog's and… some other animal that Sam couldn't quite place.

Oh yeah, he definitely wasn't human - at least not entirely.

The teen was about to speak when Sam beat him to it, voice shaking slightly at the sight of those fangs, "B-But! Not tonight, I've stayed out way longer than I should've already."

"…And Dean's probably worried sick." He muttered to himself, guilt filling him at the thought of his injured brother.

"Dean…?" A near-whisper answered him, a chill running down his spine as the giant kid's face grew confused, "I-Is that a f-friend of yours?"

Shit, "Y-You ah - You heard that?"

Jonas nodded before tapping one of his ears, "I-I - my h-hearing's a lot b-better than y-you'd expect, s-sorry."

Great. Sam sighed, waving the apology off with a roll of his eyes, "If you can't help it then it's fine. Just - You can't tell anyone about this, okay?"

A relieved huff answered him, the kid shrugging before gesturing to himself and the desk, "L-Like I'm have a-any room to complain? You're s-secret's safe with m-me."

"…Alright. Then… I'll see you tomorrow?" It felt weird trusting a… whatever Jonas was, no matter how uneasy it was.

It took him longer than he'd liked to respond, reaffirming his decision, "Yeah… see you tomorrow."

He made his way over to the edge of the desk, uncertainty swirling within as he readied his decent, before Jonas spoke up again.

"U-Um… d-do you want m-me to h-help you d-down?" He sounded about as unsure as Sam felt, scooting towards him preemptively.

This time, he replied with confidence, "Nah, I've climbed down higher stuff before."

He felt wide eyes on him as he slipped his hook (a simple bit of thread tied to a bent paperclip) from his bag, latching it to the edge of the desk before throwing the line off. After a practiced tug to make sure it was secure, he was off. Climbing down impossibly tall furniture was second nature at this point, as easy to him as breathing.

He planted his feet on the carpeted floor with a near-imperceptible thwump, turning back to retrieve his hook only to meet the amazed gaze of Jonas.

"So cool…!" The teen's whisper roiled overhead, stars practically in his eyes.

Sam felt a bit pride swell up within him, basking in the feeling of amazing someone so large with relative east.

He was about to grab his line when Jonas began moving, hand snatching his hook before he could even blink. Gently the appendage lowered, thread line trailing behind as it descended. Pinched carefully between the teen's fingers, his hook was presented to him.

It took Sam an embarrassing amount of time to break out of his shocked stupor, shaking himself before quickly grabbing one of his most important possessions.

Jonas looked bashful as his hand retreated, "S-Sorry, i-it looked like g-grabbing that thing w-would've been a p-pain."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, of course the kid would apologize for being nice, "You're fine, saves me the headache."

The teen nodded, Sam feeling his eyes follow him as he walked towards a hole in the wall. It was disguised using the surrounding wallpaper, pulled over it juuuust enough to avoid human attention.

As the Winchester pulled the paper away, he turned and took one last look at the kid. He fought back a snort when he waved at him, returning the gesture before slipping back into the safety of the walls.

[histoires-en-bouteille]

OMG okay okay look listen I have been watching a lot of horror gameplays lately ("you? horror?" yeah me, horror, i know i know) and now i'm thinking.

An open-world horror survival (kinda) RPG game. Where you start by choosing a character to play from a list of characters - you have very basic infos on them, like an archive file kind of thing with a picture of them and like name + some of their faculties, and a lot of censored text.

You select one of the character, and you play as that character throughout the game. And you have like this open world and you have like. At first it seems like there isn't a "big goal" or anything, it's just you surviving and doing like missions and exploration but completely unrelated to each other, and you just kind of learn to survive within that world.

Or so you think.

Because you don't notice at first, but things are odd. I mean. Really, it's subtle. It takes you more or less time to really figure out that Soemthing Isn't Right. And I'm not talking about the fucked up creatures living Outside or the mean humans who try to rip off anything you own in exchange of shelter or food.

No, I mean odd as in that creature which has been following you for three days straight yet never once attacked or approached you. You only noticed its presence a few days ago, but really, how long has it been following you?

Odd as in, why do all of these people behave as if they were expecting you? Why are they acting so nice and charming, or so exaggerately mean, rude even? Why does it feel like everything you do in this town has been expected...scripted...?

Odd, as in these missions feel more and more related, but you can't exactly pinpoint how or why, you just have a feeling that they are. You just have that feeling and it's making you pay more and more attention to your surrounding, and as you become more aware, you develop new skills and suddenly you are able to notice things you couldn't before.

Like the engraving on these ruins. Which weren't there when you came here for your first mission. The noises outside, and the glitches that sometime interrupt the screeching and chirping. Abandonned structures that shouldn't even be here, because how? Because why?

The fact that, whenever you ask about what happened, everyone gives you the same answer.

Almost word for word.

And the more you become aware, the more these incoherence become obvious to you, and the more dangerous your expeditions and missions become as well. Slowly, the dots connect, the links become visible, the real purpose of the game unfolds before your eyes.

And given which character you pick at the beginning, you get a different ending. Because you could pick the character who will never know the truth. Or you could pick the character who does.

You could even pick the character who knew all along, yet never told you anything.

Even as a player, your fate had been written down. No matter which character you pick at the beginning, and no matter how the story unfolds, one truth remains the same, always.

You, "player", were the one being played all along.

@chaoticvampirejedi @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

[bakatenshii]

now that we got canon ‘cest lore dropped— uncle!geten breeding niece! reader à la himuracest xoxo

[obviouslyshy]

BRO what about a Naruto omegaverse au but instead of normal omegaverse you throw out the part where it's a secondary gender and the part where they all have a 'wolf' part of them, and instead what it follows the theory/au/ whatever it was where animal-based clans, like the Hatake and the Inuzuka and the Aburame, naturally have animal-based tendencies and instincts because of their close association with animals?

And the classification of alpha beta and omega aren't secondary genders but instead are classification levels warning people of how dangerous that shinobi is!! So if someone is an alpha level warning, it's because they have very strong animal instincts and behaviors and need to watched carefully because of how dangerous it can make them if provoked the wrong way? Or how Useful it can make someone when provoked the right way against an enemy??? And omega would be someone who is low on the scale of animal instincts, but of course that doesn't make them any less dangerous it could just mean they are in more control and duped the test??

And like also for people who sign summoning contracts too! Like you sign a summoning contract and then BAM! you got animal tendencies now too buddy cause you just tied your soul to ours haha! SO then they have to get tested and there's this whole literal test and such made just for this!

To be extra spicy, why not just throw the Uchiha in there too! Cause like they are Literally crazy a lot of the times and there's that whole Uchiha Madness that may or may not be real, but either way they get classifications too because why not! Konoha loves making the Uchiha outliers anyways!!

And so now there's this whole new aspect of worldbuilding and class discrimination and new avenues to explore in angst and also fluff! There's just so much POTENTIAL bro and just what!!!! if!!! someone!!!! wrote that!!!!!!

[artekai]

I don't know how the Death Note musical does it (or if I'm just twisting songs to fit my blorbos as usual) but They're Only Human and Mortals & Fools both fit like a glove as Fross & Tilda songs. And then of course Borrowed Time is about the tentative Fross & Nemesis confrontation.

But why leave it at that? There Are Lines is a Fross & Lis song now (lol. lmao). We All Need a Hero is about... *checks notes* Fross & Stanley! Other than the parts that are specific to Light, of course, Kira is totally Fross about Far Zenith, but if you stretch a little you could even make those sections about Kai. I'll Only Love You More is clearly about Frosskai.

In fact let's just cut the middle man and make a Death Note AU, since Fross wants Death Note to be about him so bad, apparently. That could be fun. I'd have to change basically everything around but. I'm considering it.

[spielzeugkaiser]

Oh, also unrelated, but I always went by that choice too! And same, for me it was mercy to take the rose - I'm with you on that one, I think it is cruel to let her suffer like that. But on the other hand Iris seems to be so afraid of vanishing once and for all and kinda holds on to the rose? I thought it could lead them to feel differnt about this scenario. With Jaskier wanting to offer immediate comfort (not taking it, not making her even sadder, not scaring her) and Geralt wanting to help her in the long run (letting her rest).

[MASTERPOST] Oh boy, I am still obsessed with that dlc... I think this is something they potentially could disagree on, taking the rose or letting Iris go back to sleep again? Also bear!Jaskier loves cats

[a-bright-comet]

Miku frame Miku frame Mi- saw @/ritasanderson's orokin miku and got hit with the idea of a Miku warframe, *really* happy with how this came out and might draw it more if my brain allows- happy chemicals go brrrrrrr

[dxrktopaz]

us driving together always leads to me teasing you constantly just so you can pull us over. throw me on the hood of the car so i can have you cum in me.

[hungharrington]

jayy!! lately i’ve been thinking that steve really really likes it when you ride him. like yeah, he loves to see you on top but i feel like he loves the idea of you using him to get off yknow?? like he just wants to be your boy toy. doesn’t even care if he doesn’t cum, but gets SO WHINY and blushy when he does cause he just feels so so lucky to have you jump his bones🙌

UGH i need him like i need to BREATHE. need him to whine in my ears 24/7

-🍒

oh lawd. this one…. brain goes BRRRRRRR what did you PUT in this ask cherry…. does this fit the prompt? maybe 🤪 but it was written at work so have mercy on me

Of all the things Steve loves in the world, making you feel good? Top of the list.

That much is a given— with the fervor in which he’ll bury his face between your thighs, moans that vibrate against your cunt just right, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips rut against the bed.

When he’s determined to pull an orgasm out of you with his hands, his darkened hazel eyes drinking in every moan, desperately flicking between your blissed out expression and his fingers pumping into your cunt, covered in your slick— all of it shows in the ache in his pants, in the breathy noises he makes when you tip over the edge.

So, you’re not at all surprised at what he says to you that night — take what you want.

You’re both tangled together, haphazardly draped across the bed— too entranced in the hot press of each others mouth to think about letting go, even as you had both staggered up the stairs and into the bedroom. It had been one charged dinner date, with one hand far too comfortable sneaking up your skirt go tease you.

Now, Steve lies beneath you and when you break away, panting, to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, he’s a fucking sight to behold. Chest heaving, face flushed so much it crawls down his neck, his eyes fix on you with such an intenseness that it makes you shiver.

His shirt has been driving you crazy all dinner, undone just enough to show a flash of chest hair. Now you work it open quickly, each button revealing a little more of his glorious tanned chest, sprinkled with hair. Lust drools through you. You rake one hand down it, fingernails pressing into his skin lightly and Steve groans.

“Okay, you need to get naked, like, right now,” His hands pair with his words, finding the edge of your shirt. He’s tugging it up and your arms go up to let him pull it from your frame. His insistance makes your grin.

“Funny how you can say that when you’re still wearing pants.” You bicker back, using your now free hands to work on his belt buckle.

Steve watches you for a moment, his tummy clenches when you palm at his bulge for a moment and his head rolling back onto the duvet. He makes a pained noise. His hands form fists at his sides — just for a moment, before he’s sliding them up your thighs.

They creep beneath your skirt, finding the elastic of your panties — then one of his hands shift forward, cupping your heat tightly. You moan at the same time Steve does, his hand pressing up against your clit perfectly. He shakes his head on the bed, his hair messing up against the sheets.

“I take it back,” He whines. His hands shoot down to overtake yours, shucking his pants down his thighs as best he can. Just the thin material of his boxers remains. “I don’t think I can wait, honey, I need— you can just- please,”

“Hey, hey, I got it, I got you,” You push his hands away and Steve melts. He grows still, only his hands twitching and his neck craned up to watch as you tug his boxers down.

His cock must be aching with the way it looks, all pretty and flushed in the head, crying just for you. You can’t help yourself, giving it a quick pump, rubbing the head with your thumb.

Steve keens loudly, his body growing taut, his head thrown back. A strangled whimper tears from his throat. “Ngh- please, oh fuck, pleasepleaseplease—“

You release his cock and Steve deflates a bit, panting loudly. Your skirt takes only a second to remove and it takes another to push your panties to the side, your knees straddling across his hips. Your core burns hotly, clenching in anticipation of being filled.

You make sure Steve is watching as you hold his cock, prepped to sink down — and he is. His face, still flushed with his eyes bright, is intent on watch your own.

It makes the heat in your gut flare hotter. Hot lust sparks beneath your skin as he keeps his gaze on you for as long as he can — your hot, wet cunt sinking down on him finally forcing his eyes closed.

“Fuck, fuck— shit, don’t move just yet,” The words pour from Steve’s mouth, his eyes screwed up and head thrown back. Your hands shift forward, planting on his chest and you give him a minute— revelling in the delicious stretch his cock gives you. Fuck, it never gets old.

You lean down and kiss the closest skin you can find, his collarbone. Steve smiles, eyes still closed. His hands shift off the sheets, trailing from your thighs, your hips, up your ticklish sides, until he finds your face. His thumbs stroke over your cheeks delicately and when he pulls you closer, you follow without hesitance.

He kisses your lips, soft and sweet, and then murmurs against them. “Take what you want, baby.”

A little whine creeps out your mouth at his words and your hips follow without thinking, beginning to rock gently. A dose of lust licks up your spine and you sigh prettily.

Steve’s face shudders, pleasure rippling across his features and his eyes slip shut. His mouth drops open a little bit, the smallest noise escaping, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. His eyes crinkle open, watching you closely.

“Ye- yeah, that’s it.” Steve manages to murmur. His hands haven’t left your face, still gently holding either side as you roll your hips back, slow and sensual. “Good girl.”

A gasp pushes past your lips and this time when you rock back, it’s a little more desperate. Steve moans, voice drenched in desire, and his hands fall from your face to grip the sheets. You lean on his chest further, your thighs aching deliciously as you fuck yourself on his cock— up and down, faster and faster.

“Steve,” you mewl out. It’s instinct to reach for him, to call out for him and in response, you feel the buck of his hips, pressing him deeper within you. Steve whimpers.

“You got it, honey,” He assures, voice more and more breathy. “Doing so good.”

There’s a soft squelch as you work yourself down on him, a coil of pleasure beginning to tighten up in your tummy. You feel a fiery warmth beneath your skin that spikes with every movement you make.

One of Steve’s hands comes up to cover your own, holding it tight to his chest — right over his heart and he lets the other nudge your face back to facing him. You hadn’t realised how it had begun to tilt forward, lost in your own pleasure.

“Mhm, fu- fuck, that’s my girl,” Steve whispers. You shift up to change the angle and when you fuck back down, you moan loudly — Steve writhing beneath you to contain himself from fucking up into you. You, however, show him no mercy.

“God,” Steve whines loudly. His breathes are coming out with little whimpers now. “That’s—that’s it— just fuckin’ take what you need. Take it, take it from me, baby.”

Your cunt gushes and you whimper — and you do just that.

[whereonceiwasfire]

If you're game to write a cheese melt (Vlad & Dani father-daughter dynamic) ficlet, I'd love to read one. If not, that's cool :)

*vibrating with excitement* My friend. Your cheese melt art has been living rent free in my head for WEEKS. It's my sincerest pleasure to write a ficlet for this. I hope it's okay that it's an outsider POV, I just had an idea and my brain went brrrrrrr LOL

May I offer you a dysfunctional parent-teacher interview?

Parent-teacher interviews are always a nightmare, but there's one in particular that’s making Amity Middle School’s beloved Ms. Burnell sweat through her shirt. As the time slot nears, her gaze keeps flickering to the clock, her classroom door, back to her nervously interlaced fingers on the desktop.

It’s going to be fine. Perfectly fine.

“This one! Over here! Dad! This is my class!” The excited words, shouted in the syrupy sweet voice of a little girl, sets every nerve on edge, Ms. Burnell’s heart plummeting straight into the pit of her stomach.

Oh lord. Maybe it’s not going to be fine. 

Her student comes bounding into the classroom, eyes bright and excited, oversized blue sweater sleeves slipping over her hands, even as she gestures emphatically for her father to follow. Black hair spills out of her ponytail, whipping across her face as she throws herself into a desk across from Ms. Burnell’s with a bright smile. 

Her father, on the other hand… 

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers strike against the linoleum as the man stops at the threshold of the classroom, cool gaze doing an assessing sweep of the space, expression crinkling in distaste as it does. He doesn’t say a single word, doesn’t make any move to actually step inside the classroom. 

Ms. Burnell is the one who clears her throat, pushing to an awkward stand as she extends a hand out to the man. 

“Hello, Mr. Masters. Thank you for making the time to come discuss your daughter’s education. I know you’re very busy.” 

The man’s eyes slip to her outstretched palm, and for a motifying second, she doesn’t think he’s going to take it. When he finally does, he just gives a brief, cursory shake before swiping his palm off on his suit jacket and striding past her toward his daughter. 

Ms. Burnell’s face is all kinds of warm, chest tight with embarassment as she fumbles back to her desk, trying to wrestle herself back into some kind of composure. Still, she barely looks up as she pulls out a folder with Danielle Masters scrawled across the tab.

“Dad! Dad! That one’s mine! Do you see it? Do you like it?” Danielle calls proudly, tugging on her father’s suit sleeve and pointing toward the paintings that are spread out beneath the windows to dry, paper wavy and crinkled.

“Oh, er. That’s actually a good place for us to start,” Ms. Burnell cuts in apologetically. 

Mr. Masters gaze snaps from where he’d been examining his daughter’s project, over to her, brows dropped low. 

“Why? Is there a problem with my daughter’s work?” The question is sharp, accusatory, and she’s pretty sure her soul shrivels up a little bit at the unguarded disdain in the man’s eyes.

Swallowing hard, sweat beading against the back of her neck, Ms. Burnell resists the urge to immediately take it back. Surely he can see the problem with the piece—isn’t going to make her say it? 

It's too scary.

When his challenging gaze doesn’t waver, she forces the words out. 

“Uhm. Well. It’s just. Not quite. Appropriate for a sixth grade class?” It pitches up into a question as she gestures vaguely toward Dani’s painting. 

It’s a bit sloppy, the layers of paint caked upon each other, the lines hasty and uneven, but the scene itself is clear enough—a little, smiling, white-haired girl in the shadow of some kind of hulking creature, its skin blue, eyes red, sharp fangs bared as its cape flares out to take up the rest of the page. 

Ms. Burnell almost set up an appointment for Danielle with the school counselor when she saw it, wondering if Dani felt like she was the little girl, trapped amongst nightmares and “monsters.” She decided against it for the time being, until she could speak with the girl’s father, but that’s proving rather unhelpful so far if the contemptuous way the man is looking at her is any indication.

“Did Danielle complete the assignment?” he asks finally. 

“Uhm. Yes.” 

“And adhere to the grading criteria?” 

“Sh-she did,” Ms. Burnell answers reluctantly.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” he answers, finality in the words as his gaze turns to his daughter. He takes a much softer tone with her, brushing the disorderly strands of hair off her face, an absent domesticity in the way he straightens the ponytail gone lopsided. “I think you did a lovely job, dear.” 

“Thank you! I used Alizarin Crimson,” she answers proudly, hair flopping right back into her eyes.

“Excellent choice.” 

“Uhm. Well, there’s also the matter of Danielle’s conduct,” Ms. Burnell cuts in.    

The man lets out an irritated sigh, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against one of the desks, one ankle crossed over the other, unimpressed gaze finding Ms. Burnell once more. 

“What?” he says, like it’s an inconvenience.

She swallows hard. “She’s been…uhm. Not getting along with some of the other girls.” 

“That is so unfair, Mackenzie started it!” Danielle shouts abruptly, popping up to her knees on her chair, palms slapping down against the desktop. 

“Well that’s not what Mack—” 

The girl keeps going, cutting Ms. Burnell off. 

“She said the only reason Eli agreed to play with me at recess was because Joshua dared him too, and I said nuh unh and she said yuh hunh, and I asked how she knew that, and she couldn’t even prove it, it was so obvious she was making it up!” 

“Mackenzie told me that you said some pretty unkind words to her, Danielle.” 

“Barely! I just said it was a bad look for her to be so jealous of me and just because she looks like she fished her outfit from the same trash bin she got her personality from isn’t any reason to be a jerk.”

Her father’s expression twists into a sharp smirk, amusement lighting his blue eyes, and Ms. Burnell thinks she’s starting to get a better sense of why Danielle is proving to be one of the most challenging students in her class this year. 

“We treat people with kindness and respect in this classroom, Dani. Do you think what you said to Mackenzie was kind and respectful?” 

“Well…” Dani’s gaze drops, expression pinching in thought, and Ms. Burnell thinks she might actually be getting through to her.

“It doesn’t sound as though this other girl was treating Danielle with kindness and respect,” Mr. Masters answers, the words coming out with a mocking turn, like he finds the concepts incidental at best.

“That’s true. She did start it,” Dani reasserts, turning her gaze up to her dad.  

“I’ve spoken to Mackenzie about her part in everything,” Ms. Burnell answers tightly. “But we’re here to talk about Danielle’s conduct. That’s not the only incident of its kind that’s occurred this year and—” 

“You know, it sounds to me as though Danielle’s doing just fine,” Mr. Masters says, pushing up to a proper stand, tugging the bottom of his sleeves and smoothing the dark, wrinkleless fabric.

“But—” 

“Did she make this girl cry?” 

“Well. No, but—” 

“And how are my daughter’s academics?” he asks, gaze fixed on hers, sending a chill creeping down her spine. 

“Fine, but—” 

“Has she gotten into a physical altercation with anyone?” 

“Not exactly, but—” 

“Started any fires?” he asks, sarcasm and derision dripping from the words. 

“No, she hasn’t started any fires.” 

“Then I believe this meeting is finished. Thank you for your time, Ms…”

“Burnell,” she answers weakly.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Burnell. Danielle, are you ready to go?”

“Yup!” She pops up to an enthusiastic stand, rushing over to the windows to snatch up her painting, twisting it toward Ms. Burnell. “Can I take this home?”

She gives a heavy sigh, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “Sure, Dani. That's fine.” 

“Thanks, Ms. B!” As the girl traipses after her dad, a bounce in her step, horrifying painting swinging at her side, Ms. Burnell can hear the girl still chattering away, even as they pass out of her classroom, voices growing distant. “Do you think I should have made Mackenzie cry?” she asks.

Ms. Burnell is glad she can’t hear the man’s response—she doesn’t even want to know his answer.

[that-wizard-oki]

Autism brain go brrrrrrr: In the way that the game play in Wizard101 functions so that when a Wizard/creature/thing "dies" or is defeated upon their health being depleted, I like the idea that, in a "real world" Spiral Universe, what determines the "defeat" of an opponent in a duel is when an opponents Mana drops too low OR is completely exhausted of it.

Obviously Mana is needed to cast spells in a duel, but I also like the idea that a Wizard or most living things/creatures in the Spiral would need like, a "baseline" amount of Mana within themselves to properly thrive- so, when a Wizard runs their Mana Low in battle, they are unable to conjure more spells, but they can be at risk physically. Hence how dueling CAN be lethal, but does not have to be.

Part of this idea comes from how the player character, upon defeat, will appear unconscious, but is not truly "dead" by any means.

Also, in terms of "dueling etiquette" I think that either a set amount of "rounds" or like, respecting that reaching a certain mana threshold equates to you loosing is what the "modern standard" would be across the Spiral. Think this helps explain why The Wizard usually "wins" against enemies in some battles, but then can "kill" other enemies during other fights.

Additionally, I like to think that for some creatures (or maybe even some Wizards, too) they cannot fully "run out" of Mana- that their existence/essence is what helps mana & magic "flow" in and around the Spiral, producing magic/mana/wips around them, etc. In my mind, this might apply to the Titans, Bartlebey/Rave/Spider, and the like. They can still experience the woes of being critically low on Mana, but their biology/essence is functionally a SOURCE of mana/energy, so cannot "burn out".

Mana/Magic is ever flowing throughout the Spiral, and will feed and react to the living things that feed & energize it- MUCH like the root system in an ecosystem.