#mister and miss rabbit

[that-theaven]

Which couple should I draw?

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

so the winnie the pooh au is going great

[askfacultystaff]

Note: Never underestimate Miss Black Rabbit

*Miss Black Rabbit glaring at Rama's enemies*

Rama's enemies be like:

(Looks like Rama's enemies got scared by her, especially her scary look -v-)

[parme-san]

calling this one "everything in my drawing app that would otherwise never see the light of day" 👍

[i-like-polls]

[babyfoxflower]

The Hunter and the Hunted

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader

*Disclaimer: This story is an AU and does not follow Hellaverse canon. Alastor is pretty much just a hetero, if this offends you in anyway, then I suggest you block me and go on your way.*

Synopsis: This the story of Alastor and the love of his life, his huntress, the charming Y/n Rosier. A rare beauty out on the bayou, his heart is instantly stolen by her. He’ll do anything for his beloved, even if that includes murder.

Story Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Violence, Blood, Hunting, Murder, Mentions of Child Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, 1920s Attitudes Towards Women

Chapter One Next

Alastor looked up at the now darkening sky. It was getting late and the only thing he managed to find on his hunt were a few measly rabbits that he stuffed into his hunting sack to make carrying multiple of them easier.

“At least we can make a stew out of these,” the disappointment clear in his voice.

He was hoping he’d find a nice big stag to bring home. His mother was quite fond of venison, and even had a special jambalaya recipe that included it. But he knew what ever she made would be delicious.

He took off his glasses and gave them a quick cleaning, he forgot his cleaning cloth at home and had to use his shirt. A bad habit he knew, but it was better than nothing.

He straightened them back onto his face, “Alright, time to go home.”

He started his way back, humming to distract himself from the lousy feeling in his chest.

“GOD DAMNIT!!!” A voice yelled from deeper in the forest.

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks.

That sounds like a lady. I wonder if she needs help.

His gentleman nature would not allow him to ignore a damsel in distress, so he set off in the direction of the voice.

“FOR HEAVENS SAKE! MOVE YOU DAMN STAG!”

Alastor was taken aback when he finally found the source of the noise. It was a woman alright, but a woman who did not match the voice that was coming from her mouth.

She was so beautiful, that Alastor almost couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never seen such a lovely creature in all of his twenty-three years of living. He blinked his eyes a few times to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Please, move,” a little whimper escaped from the lady, which snapped him back to reality.

She seemed to be trying to pull a stag with what looked like a makeshift pulling device made out of rope and twigs.

“Excuse me, Miss. Do you need some help with that?” Alastor asked her, while approaching slowly as to not frighten her.

She jumped at the sudden noise before quickly turning her head around to see who was there.

“Oh, thank god! Yes please, Mister. Could you please help me if it’s not too much trouble?” A look of relief on her pretty face.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’m always willing to help out a lady,” he smiled kindly.

“You’re too kind, Mister! I was scared that I would never be able to get this thing back, haha.”

“May I ask how you ended up in this predicament? Did you find this stag dead?” He queried.

“I shot this stag myself,” she motioned her head to the rifle in her hand that he somehow managed to not notice until she pointed it out.

Hmm, must have been too distracted by her beauty.

“Ah I see. Please forgive me, Sweetheart. I didn’t notice your gun. And might I also ask about this contraption?” He pointed to the device.

“Oh! I just threw it together, I thought it would make it easier for me to move this damn thing, but it did nothing,” she glared at it.

Alastor shook his head, “You ladies are quite clever, far more clever than men. But sometimes, however, you need a man’s strength,” he said while easily lifting the large animal over his shoulder.

She blushed, marveling at him, at how strong he was, “I can’t argue with that.”

She led the way to her house, making small talk.

“So, what’s your name, Mister?” She asked, smiling softly.

He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten to introduce himself, his mother would scold him if she was here.

“Alastor. Alastor Hartfelt. And what might your name be, my dear?”

“Y/n Rosier. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alastor!”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. I assure you that the pleasure is all mine,” he replied.

Y/n blushed, she had rarely been called beautiful by anyone outside of her family.

“You’re quite beautiful, yourself! I’ve never seen anyone with such a pretty complexion before, and your eyes, they’re such a lovely light brown, not to mention your chestnut hair…did I just say that out loud?”

Nice going, Y/n! You probably freaked the gorgeous man out!

Alastor was the blushing mess now, his heart pounded inside his chest. He even nearly dropped the deer.

Me? She thinks I’m beautiful? Why does that make me feel both so happy and shy at the same time? Pull yourself together, Alastor!

But he quickly regained his composure, “You did, haha! Thank you, my dear, most people don’t compliment my appearance.”

“Well, they should! Such a handsome man deserves to know it.”

They continued to converse. He told her about his mother and her cooking, how there was no one who could make better food. She told him how she had to do all the cooking and housework, because of how frail her mother was.

She talked about her three little sisters, how much of angels they were. Though she admits that it’s hard having to act almost like their mother.

“I’m their big sister, not their mother. I just sometimes wish that Mama would feel better enough one day to actually be our mother again. That’s a terrible thing to say, isn’t it? I’m sorry for going on about my problems.”

“No, your feelings are valid. And you’re correct, you’re not their mother. I understand your frustration. My mother sometimes treats me like I’m still seven years old.”

“Are you her only child?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s it then. You’re her baby! Of course she doesn’t want to let go of your childhood. But I also understand your frustration.”

He knew that. But it was nice hearing out of her mouth, she made it sound all the sweeter. He loved his mother. She was a kind soul, not a gentle soul by any means, but a kind one. Y/n seemed to be both kind and gentle.

“I want to be my Mama’s baby again, but I haven’t been that since the first of my little sisters were born,” she looked thoughtfully out into the distance.

“Well, one day you’ll have a husband to take care of you.”

“Yes, until I have a baby and then this whole thing will just repeat itself.”

“You don’t have to have a baby.”

“Hmm, what do you mean?”

“You can be married without having to have children. I know if I ever get married, unless my wife really wants children, we’ll probably never have them. Not that I don’t like children or anything like that but I can’t see myself as a father.”

Y/n stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. But then she smiled, “I don’t want children either! I wish more men thought like you, Sugar. But I know once I get married, I’ll be expected to birth many children and keep my husband’s blood line going.”

Alastor looked at the tops of the trees, “That’s the thing, I couldn’t care less about ‘continuing my blood line.’ In fact, I think it should just die with me.”

“Why?”

“I hate my father.”

“Oh. I didn’t care for mine either.”

Y/n then changed to more lighthearted topics. Going on about her hobbies outside of doing housework. It turned out she played the piano and sang just like he did. Of course, her piano was an old hand-me-down going back generations. But it played just fine.

His heart wouldn’t stop pounding as walked beside her. He was so charmed by her. Her looks, her kindness, the way her nose wrinkled up when she laughed. It was actually kind of overwhelming. Sure, he interacted with beautiful women before, but something was different about her.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was almost like she had bewitched him in the best possible way.

Little did he know that she was equally as charmed by him as he was by her. She loved the formal way he spoke, how much of gentleman he was, how bright his smile was. It gave her butterflies in her stomach.

Finally, they reached her house. It was a one-story cabin with a little picket fence surrounding it. Suddenly, three adorable little girls came running to Y/n. She got on her knees and embraced them.

“Why were you gone so long, Y/n?”

“We were worried.”

“We missed you.”

“I know, I know I was gone for far too long! I missed you little ones too,” a motherly tone in her voice.

Alastor smiled, “What cute little girls.”

They looked up at him and then back to their older sister, their eyes asking if it was okay to talk to him.

“My little darlings, this is Mister Alastor. He helped me bring home that big stag,” she pointed to the dead animal.

They turned to him and smiled, “Thank you, Mister Alastor!”

“It was my pleasure, dears.”

Y/n got up, “Come on, I’ll show you where to put the deer,” she turned to him.

She led him to a shack behind the house, it was full of tools for gutting and skinning. In the middle was a table, she told him to place it on there.

“I cannot thank you enough! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to feed my family. Thank you so much, Alastor!”

“Please, Sweetheart, again it was no trouble at all! I’m glad I could be of assistance to you and your family.”

The tallest of the little girls came up to him, “Excuse me, Mister Alastor. Will you be joining us for dinner?” Her eyes full of sweet innocence.

Y/n’s face lit up, “Yes, why don’t you join us! It’s the least we can do to repay you.”

“Thank you kindly for the offer, but I have to get home to my Mother. She’s also counting on me to get dinner home,” he motioned to the sack tied to his belt, “Perhaps another time though?” He looked from the little girl over to Y/n.

“Of course! Stop by anytime! You’re always welcome here now,” her smile couldn’t possibly be any sweeter.

Alastor tipped his cap, “Adieu, my dear. And adieu to you, little dears.”

“Adieu, Alastor!” Y/n waved to him.

“Adieu, Mister Alastor!” The little girls said in unison, waving their little arms.

I hope I see him again soon.

“He was handsome, are you going to marry him, Y/n?” Her littlest sister asked.

“She’s not going to marry someone she just met, Louise!” The middle one said.

“Now, Marie don’t shout at Louise. But no, I’m not going to marry him.”

“Awww. You two would be so cute together!”

Y/n pinched the girl’s cheek.

“Annalise, come help me prepare for supper.”

“Yes, Y/n!” The oldest came running to her big sister’s side.

Alastor got home just before sunset, much to the chagrin of his mother.

“Boy, you better have a good reason for being home so late! I was getting worried,” she looked at him sharply from her rocker.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I brought home some rabbits for dinner,” he kissed her cheek.

“It took that long to catch some rabbits?” She said teasingly, taking the sack from her son.

“I met a girl,” was all he said before going upstairs to wash up.

———————————————————————

Alastor lay awake in his bed that night. He stared at the ceiling, counting the wooden panels. He often had insomnia that caused him only to get three to five hours of sleep.

“Y/n,” he whispered.

I wonder if she has trouble sleeping. Or is she someone who sleeps like a baby? I wonder if she snores, I bet it’s cute if she does.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? He had just met her that day but already she was causing him to lose sleep.

Is she a side sleeper? Would she mind if wrapped my arms around her waist and hold her close? What if I stole a kiss or two? Would she wake up with an adorable annoyed face?

Alastor grinned just thinking about what it would be like….

What if I kept kissing her all the way down from her lips to her neck? Would she moan at the sensation? What if I nibbled and sucked at her neck? Would she like it? I bet she would. I bet she would beg for more.

What a sight that would be. But he had to stop such thoughts, since did not feel like cleaning his sheets the next day.

He turned to more wholesome thoughts. Like what kind of food did she like? Would she like it if he cooked for her? Did she like venison or did she just hunt it out of necessity? Does she like jambalaya?

What a silly question, everyone in Louisiana likes jambalaya.

He thought about what it would be like coming home to her everyday. Her sweet smile, her warmth. Her wonderful laughter.

“Alright, I have to see her again soon. Or else I’m going to go mad.”

He decided to visit her next week, he figured it would be enough time in between. He didn’t want to come off desperate.

Finally, he rolled over on his side and managed to get a few hours of shuteye. In the morning, his mother would shake him awake and tell him to get ready for church. Then he’d tell her that he’s a grown man and doesn’t have to go to church. She would then do the sign of the cross, and cry out to the Holy Mother to please bring her sweet little boy back.

He loved his mother a lot, however the devoted Catholic side of her was something he could do without. But of course he would go to church with her, because again he loves her. And would do anything for the people he loves.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3

Part 2

Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!

The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”

“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”

“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”

Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”

Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”

“Ah.”

Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.

“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.

Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.

“Your Dad?”

Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.

“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”

Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”

“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”

“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.

“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”

Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”

Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.

“So, con artists or mad scientists?”

“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.

“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.

“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”

“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.

“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.

“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.

“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”

“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”

“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”

Part 4

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 2: CHARLES SMITH, THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 

synopsis: charles makes sure you're getting on okay as you continue to try to evade arthur (poorly, might i add).

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: i almost leaked this to my classmate when sending her a link. nearly shat myself but we're all good this is all still under wraps

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

Charles was right. Even though you want to help, there’s really nothing to do besides hunt – and the good Lord knows you’re useless when it comes to that.

For the last day or so, you’ve just been hanging around the garage-made-kitchen. Even though Javier told you you weren’t intruding (and that “everyone needs shelter”), you feel like you are. It’s not a good feeling. So you stayed outside, in the company of a man who introduced himself as Simon Pearson and the camp cook, Charles, and occasionally Javier when he found the time to swing by. 

A fair few people have introduced themselves as well – Hosea Matthews, Bill Williamson, Lenny Summers, Reverend Orville Swanson, Leopold Strauss (who just oozed sleaze), Miss Karen Jones, Miss Tilly Jackson, Miss Mary-Beth Gaskill, and little Jack alongside his mother, Miss Abigail Roberts. Those who didn’t directly introduce themselves to you were pointed out by Karen and you were given a run-down on them.

So far, these are the people as you know them: Missus Sadie Adler is a grieving, skittish widow. Uncle is a lazy sack of shit. John Marston is better at being wolf food than being a father. Miss Susan Grimshaw is stubborn (but caring – somewhat like how neighborhood mamas care). Miss Molly O’Shea has a stick so far up her ass she spits splinters when she talks. The man tied up in the barn, Kieran Duffy, is an O’Driscoll (or ex-O’Driscoll, if what he insists is true is really true). Oh – and the blond man that punched Bill? That’s Micah Bell: a man with the eye of a viper tasting the air and the nose of a shark waiting for blood in the water. From what you’ve deduced, his general vibe is “I would take sexual relationship advice from Bill Cosby if given the chance.”

All in all, a healthily diverse group of people – even if the traits that make them diverse aren’t all that desirable. (Mostly Micah’s. Especially Micah’s.)

But Charles is nice enough. So you’ve stuck with Charles. Even if you need to hang around Pearson to hang out with him. Pearson isn’t an intrinsically bad guy, just… a little off-putting.

Right now, you’re able to put your hands to use by opening canned vegetables and putting them in the cauldron-looking pot Pearson has for rabbit stew. Across the table, Charles is butchering and deboning a rabbit as best he can with his injured hand. You try your best to keep your eyes on the cans of carrots and celery you’re opening. 

There’s footsteps. You glance up. It’s Arthur. You look back down. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Pearson gripes to no one in particular. 

You watch Arthur approach the fire and he holds his hands out towards the coals in your peripheral vision. He shakes his head. “Ah, we’re okay.”

“We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For, what – ten, twelve people?” Pearson gestures over to where you and Charles are working. “Even more with them and that widow.”

Despite yourself, you can feel the tips of your ears start to burn. What do you have to be embarrassed about? Needing to eat? If anything, Pearson should be the one feeling embarrassed for talking about you in front of you. Yeah… that’s it. 

Pearson continues. “When I was in the Navy…”

Arthur immediately interrupts him. “I – I do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the Navy, Mister Pearson.”

And yet, he keeps going despite Arthur’s protest. “We were stranded at sea… for fifty days.”

“And you, unfortunately, survived,” Arthur drawls. 

You glance up at him from underneath your eyelashes and smile. His eye catches yours, and your gaze drops, as does your smile. Instead, you work on getting your finger under the tab of a can of chopped onions – which is hard, considering the thickness of your gloves.

You feel Arthur’s eyes leave you and let out a soft sigh of relief that clouds in front of your face. Charles holds out his knife to you. You tip the top of the can towards him, and he wedges the (bloody – ew) blade of his knife underneath the tab and opens it. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You clench your jaw when you feel Arthur’s eyes on you again – yes, very briefly, but still. You can count the number of times you’ve made eye contact with him on one hand, and you don’t want to add to that total. 

Thankfully, Pearson seems ignorant to your plight and continues complaining. “When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn’t able to get supplies in!”

“Well, when government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short,” Arthur snaps. “We’ll survive. We always have. And if needs be, we can eat you – you’re the fattest.”

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh and clear your throat to mask any noise you might’ve made. You pour the onions in the pot and glance at the rabbit carcass, now carved up and stripped of meat.

“Damn, there’s nothing left on that thing,” you say. “You’re good at that.”

Charles nods in response. “If you’re done, you can put it on the fire.”

You lift the pot with a grunt – it’s heavier than you expected, but nothing you can’t handle. You move over to the coals and hang the pot on a hook over the fire while Pearson and Arthur continue talking. 

“I sent Lenny and Bill hunting, and they found nothing,” Pearson says. 

“Well, Lenny’s more into book learnin’ than huntin’,” Arthur says. You perk up at that. “Bill’s a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read, ain’t no wonder they haven’t found –”

“Enough of this,” Charles interrupts. Even though his voice is relatively quiet and deep, it still cuts through whatever Arthur was planning on prattling on about. “We’ll go find something. Come on, Arthur.”

“Well, take them.” Arthur gestures vaguely in your direction. “Since they seem so keen on helpin’ out, and all.”

“I, um…” You shake your head. “No, thanks.”

“They don’t even know how to hold a rifle correctly,” Charles says. (His bluntness stings a little, but it’s true. You know how to hold a handgun, but not these old-timey types.) “If they knew how to hunt, we would’ve gone already.”

Arthur sighs and shrugs. “If you insist.”

“Wait a second, hold on.” Pearson hurries over to the table you and Charles had been working at earlier. He pulls out a can from the small pile you had organized and tosses it to Arthur. “You’re gonna need something to eat out there.”

“Hm… “assorted, salted offal”,” Arthur reads off the label. He levels Pearson with a dead stare. “Starving would be preferable.”

You stifle a laugh and, again, clear your throat.

“Come on, let’s go,” Charles says, adjusting the bandage on his hand. 

“You can’t go huntin’,” Arthur says. “Look at your hand.”

“I can’t stay here listening to you two,” Charles says. He gestures to you without looking at you. “The conversation they make is tolerable, but, again, they can’t hunt. Look, if there’s game in those hills, I’ll find it – and you can kill it.”

“You need to rest, Charles,” Arthur insists.

“You think this is rest?” Charles’ face twists into a scowl, then he turns and walks towards his horse with a “Come along.”

Arthur scoffs under his breath and his eyes flick to you. You do your best to suppress the temptation to duck away from his gaze, as piercing as it is. You win, and he looks away, following Charles to the hitching post. They quickly mount up and ride out.

You draw your shoulders up to your ears and shudder. When Pearson shoots you a questioning glance, you excuse it with “What? It’s cold.”

When a few seconds have passed, you roll your shoulders back. You settle down on the chair that’s inside the kitchen, just watching a few late, fat snowflakes fall outside.

After a good ten minutes of watching Pearson and playing with your hands, you figure he’ll be fine on his own and wander out along the footpaths in the snow. You find who you’re looking for quickly. 

Lenny gives you a polite nod as you stand across from him, the fire on the ground separating you two. He has a rifle – the sight of which doesn’t surprise you as much as it first did – and he settles the butt of the gun in the inner corner of his elbow. 

“You’re Lenny, right?” You try. 

“Yeah. And you’re…” Lenny gives your name. You nod in response.

“I just…” You clear your throat and bat away the embarrassment and anxiety that’s creeping up on you – something that always comes with approaching strangers. “Arthur mentioned that you like books. I, uh… I read, too. Sometimes.”

“Really?” Lenny says. “What kinda books have they got out in the Mojave?”

You look down at the fire and think, trying to come up with some excuse and build your backstory. “We don’t have a lot of books – I live in a pretty isolated part of the desert. But there’s traders, and they bring medical books, and a few storybooks. I like the medicine books they bring. You?”

Lenny seems to hesitate for a moment. “Poetry.”

“Poetry?” You hum. “Huh. Poems are nice.”

There’s a lapse in conversation. You don’t know how to fill it. You say the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Micah’s kinda a prick, right?” You blurt out. 

Your eyes snap up to Lenny’s face. He’s surprised, but his face quickly melts into a smile and he laughs. You feel the coil of anxiety in your stomach loosen. 

“Why, I didn’t expect you to come out and say it,” he says. “But your assessment is correct.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You laugh nervously, your eyes falling to the fire again. “I just get bad vibes from the guy.”

“Bad vibes?” Lenny echoes. 

The coil is tight again. You think for a moment. “Uh, yeah. One of the tribes I live with believes in, um… vibrational energy, that kinda thing. When you look at someone and you get a bad feeling without knowing them that well, they give you bad vibes.”

“Hold on,” Lenny says. “Vibrational energy?”

You nod and continue to pull things out of your ass and curse Lenny for being scholarly. “Yeah. Life… um, well. I don’t remember the explanation too well. But I remember White Bird – the Sorrows’ shaman – saying…”

You tilt your head and look to the side and think for a moment.  “He said, “All life is music – all music is rhythmic – all rhythm is life.” And that somehow relates to vibrations. I don’t know, you seem smart. Maybe you can understand what he was talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know what it means, but it sure sounds pretty,” Lenny says. 

“They’re good people,” you say. “Maybe you’d like to meet them someday – if you’re ever so far west you’re in the desert, I mean.”

Why the fuck did I say that?! You curse yourself in your head. They’re not real! The Dead Horses and the Sorrows and Joshua Graham and Daniel are all made up! They’re fictional characters –

“I don’t know, maybe,” Lenny says. “For now, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be goin’ that far.”

You hum and pretend to act disappointed while you fight the urge to crumple in on yourself in relief. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you’d like them. They’re interesting people, especially the Sorrows. Though, Joshua…”

You trail off as you check over your shoulder. Hoofbeats, you’re pretty sure. And you’re right – Arthur and Charles are riding back into camp, a dead, snow-dappled doe on the back of each horse.

“Brought some food back, boys,” Arthur calls.

They both hitch their horses at the post and hoist the limp does onto their shoulders, carrying them over to the kitchen. 

You look back at Lenny and jab a thumb over your shoulder at them. “Should we…?”

“I don’t think so,” Lenny says. “From what I seen, Arthur’s a butcher – a mean one, at that. I don’t think he’ll like it if his work’s disturbed.”

“That’s fair,” you hum. (Secretly, you want to thank Lenny profusely. You already know that Arthur’s a mean man – you don’t want to see him even meaner.)

You check over your shoulder again. From where you’re standing, you can see an old man has taken your seat in the kitchen, and you can hear Arthur giving him hell for whatever reason. What was his name again… Uncle, maybe?

Unfortunately, your staring caught Uncle’s eye. He beckons you over with a wave of his hand. You give Lenny a quiet, polite “See you later,” and head over, trudging through the thick layer of snow that’s settled on the ground.

“Yeah?” You nod at Uncle as soon as you step into the kitchen. You sidle up to the fire, warming yourself with the smoldering embers. 

“Thought it’d do Arthur some good to see the…” – Uncle waves you up-and-down – “…wonders some modernity will do you.”

“What? Modernity?” You repeat back. You tell yourself to calm down – you haven’t been found out. (Not yet.) “I’m far from modern.”

“Why, you’re perfectly modern!” Uncle says. 

“You don’t even know me.” You scoff and turn away. 

Your eyes catch Arthur wrapping wire around the back ankles of one of the doe corpses. He pulls it taut, then hooks both legs to the deer hoist. He lifts it with a grunt and puts the hoist on the hook sticking out of the wall. You avert your eyes before he turns around. 

“Well, I mean…” You shrug. “I guess I’m… sort of modern? But I don’t see any issue with what Arthur’s doing. He’s just hunting.”

Arthur’s eyes fly to you again when you say his name. You wish that the Spanish Flu had come sooner so you could wear a facemask to hide your pursed lips and clenched jaw. After a moment, he looks away.

“What a surprise,” Arthur drawls, “to find the camp rat loiterin’ around in the kitchen, chargin’ dimes for his thoughts.”

He pulls away from the deer hoist and walks over to the fire. He keeps a healthy distance, but you can still feel some sort of heat coming from him when he stands next to you. You guess a man that tall and broad would be a furnace in cold like this. 

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Uncle asks. “I feel we haven’t spoken for days.”

“I do my utmost to avoid you,” Arthur retorts.

Charles approaches the fire, standing on your other side. He gives you a small look that says “Ignore them. They can, and will, go on for hours like this.”

Uncle looks over at you and laughs. “He loves me, really. It’s his… sad way of showing affection.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, it isn’t.”

You and Arthur turn to look at each other. You hadn’t meant to speak over him, and from the kind of-surprised look he’s sending your way, you think he didn’t mean to speak over you, either. You nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“It isn’t.” He turns back to face Uncle and waves a hand. “Now shoot, get lost.”

“Well…” Uncle shrugs and stands. “See y’all later.”

Pearson swipes a bottle from Uncle as he steps out. He then looks over at one of the deer. “See you got on just fine.”

Arthur nods toward Charles’ direction. “Charles is a wonder.”

“Have a drink, my friends.” Pearson holds out the bottle across the fire. “Ya earned it.”

Arthur takes the bottle after you wave it away. He takes a swig and sputters, coughing. “Jesus!” His voice cracks. “What is that?”

He passes the bottle to Charles, who sniffs the rim and takes a tentative sip. 

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing – the only thing!” Pearson laughs as Charles hands the bottle back. “Keeps you sane, it does.”

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur glances at Charles and waves a hand in his general direction. “You go rest that hand, Charles.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days,” Charles says. 

He makes eye contact with you and nods towards the cabins, indicating for you to follow. You do so while listening to Arthur and Pearson talk about skinning the deer. (And you hide a smile when Arthur asks Pearson if he gets to skin him, too. He’s mean, but at least he’s funny with it.)

“You settling in okay?” Charles asks when you’re in a somewhat secluded area. It’s not all that isolated, but it’s out of earshot for most people.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks. For… y’know. Not being a massive asshole about everything.”

“You’re lost,” he says. (You notice he leaves out the very obvious “and scared” he could’ve tacked on the end.) “And you need help. It would be cruel not to give it to you.”

Yeah, totally! You think to yourself. You’re literally one of the kindest people alive and I’m… what? A scumbag that’s taking advantage of you? Oh, it’s so sweet that you’re ignoring the blatant lies I’m throwing in your face! Thank you, Charles! Thanks a fucking million.

“Still. Thank you,” you say instead. “You could’ve easily kicked me out in the snow and left me to freeze.” 

“We could’ve.” Charles looks out at the horizon. The way he pauses almost makes you think he’s considering it. “But we didn’t.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

Apparently, he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you or continue the conversation at all. After a few moments, you awkwardly hook your thumb over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna, uh…” You nod. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later?”

Charles is still looking out at the treeline, looking at the way the snow weighs down the leafless trees and the way even the smallest sound could disrupt everything. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

[alientee]

Alastor x Jessica Rabbit reader part 3

I lied there will be a fourth part 🤣 sorry I’ve been gone for so long. By the way this amazing art was drawn by @klaudia96art it’s based on this story I just had to have me and my demon drawn lol

Alastor and you made it back to the hotel without any more problems, you both headed towards the kitchen the kitchen. “Alright darling I’ll get the ingredients out, I can’t wait to taste your cooking once more.” You set your gift down on the table pulling your hair back. “Well considering I’ve spent so much time with your mom I bet it’ll taste just as good as hers.”

You start to wash your hands and hear something crash to the ground. As you turn around Alastor is looking at you with a thin smile his eyes as wide as they can get. “H-how is my ma….I’m sure she has her doubts that id ever show up in heaven seeing as it’s been so long” You walk towards him bringing your hand up to caress his face. He leans into your touch his eyes looking more gentle than crazed as usual. When it came to his mother Alastor wanted nothing more than to make sure she was happy, her opinion is what mattered most in the world. "She always say’s she just hopes your alright and happy wherever you are. And that she misses you.”

Alastor rest his head into your neck, inhaling your scent. It had been so long since he’s been able to hold you, to feel content again. Usually he hates being touched by others, it feels like a disgusting burn he can’t get rid of. He was never a fan of touch unless he initiated it, unless it was from his mother and you were soon added to the equation. A thought hit him and once again he was tense pulling back looking at you frantically like an actual deer caught in headlights.

“Please don’t tell her why I’m down here. It would break her heart, and I can’t stand the thought of knowing I disappointed her.” You could feel his fingers tighten on your shoulder, any harder and he would break skin. As you tried to calm him down you realized just how much your husband was still there. Yes he was a killer and a cannibal who had no problem taking in the joy in the suffering of others. But he was still a mamas boy through and through.

“Alastor I have to tell your mom I saw you she misses you so much. She just wants to know you’re doing ok. But I won’t tell her…. Why you’re down here, it’s not my story to tell anyway.” He paused for a moment sighing “I suppose that’s good enough for me….. should we start cooking?”

“Oh no mister I’m cooking. Your gonna sit down and relax” you push alastor to the table pulling out a chair for him “But dear-“ “No buts! It’s been so long since I cooked for you. I missed spoiling my husband hehe.” Alastor could only sigh and lean both arms on the table his hand resting in his hands looking at you with that large goofy smile. “If you insist sugar”

As you began to cook more of the residents started to show up much to alastor an annoyance. Angel was the first one to walk through. “Wow toots you got it smelling great in here! Watcha cooking?” You giggled, you were kinda embaressed to say you went overboard with the cooking. “Well I made jambalaya, shrimp and grits, fried chicken, corn bread and a peach cobbler. Husk almost spits out his drink at the spread your making.

“I know I went to overboard, it’s just been so long since I’ve cooked for alastor I wanted to make all his favorites minus the cobbler. Feel free to join us I know we won’t eat it all.” You hear alastor muttering under his breath that the others could leave. You went back to cooking as the rest of the residents filled in but you stare at Charlie when she entered with a man who looked just like her. When both your eyes lock he looks at Charlie happily. “Charlie is this the angel you were telling me about?”

You leave the stove and walk towards him “hello I’m ____,It’s nice to meet you.” Lucifer pulls your hand up to his lips kissing it. “Charmed, it’s a pleasure to meet you” the room is filled with a sound of large static making everyone cringe. Lucifer is the only one who looks bored, rolling his eyes. “Problem bell hop?” Alastor is by your side in an instant.

“Keep your mouth away from my wife” Lucifer looks at you and alastor back and forth until his eyes land on Charlie. “So you weren’t kidding, he’s actually married….. to them…..and you agreed to marry him willingly not by force?” He looks back at you and seeing you nod in confirmation is all he needs for him to put a deadpan look on his face. “…….But you’re way out of his league like waaaaaay out of his league. Plus I don’t think Bell hop boy here knows how to…..satisfy needs that’s arnt cananalistic?” “I beg your pardon? Why the fuck does everyone keep bringing that up?”

You shake your head as you hear angel dust laughing in the back ground. Saying how he had said the same thing earlier, in between laughs. “Yes so I’ve been told, and I think he’s in my league just fine, I can’t wait to show y’all the pictures after dinner, alastor was so handsome hehe.” Alastor looks caught off guard for a second before grabbing your shoulder. “Now dear I’m sure no one wants to see that-“

“He’s lying”

“We all want to see it”

“My rival in hissss youth? Excellent ammunition for later batlesssss”

Alastor just looks more annoyed but seeing your big doe eyes looking at him reminding him so much of why he couldn’t resist your wims when you were both alive. “Very well but you will only see the pictures of my choosing and there will be no more than 3” Everyone groaned but accepted it knowing alastor shouldn’t be pushed over the edge. “Foods ready! I hope y’all like it” Everyone starts to make a plate except for alastor, you make him two plates with all the food you made on them except for the dessert.

While you serve him his plate kissing his cheek everyone can’t seem to stop staring,even nifty. Seeing the very independent radio demon getting served with a goofy smile on his face was so domestic and strange. But what no one else expected was for you to make a plate for Lucifer. He started thanking you profusely looking really shy about it. Everyone else was trying to scoot away from alastor who was starting to let his shadow tendrils rise. “Thank you! So much but I’m… you didn’t have too. Not that I’m not grateful! It’s very sweet of you”

“It’s my pleasure you are the king after all.” “Oh NO no no no no no. Please treat me like any other guest. I hate all the kingly stuff haha. How bout I make you a plate full of pancakes tomorrow?” You shrug stating you’re only here for today but you appreciated the offer.” Cherri bomb looked at you giving you a crooked smile. “So tell us about you and smiley, any good stories?” You tried to think of the least embarrassing but most entertaining memory you can think of.

“Well now that I know Al’s past this story makes much more sense now. Me and him went camping with some of my friends. Mind you I’ve known these people for over 10 years. One of my friends got really drunk and ended up falling off a cliff but he swear he was pushed, but none of us believed him because he was waisted. Then a bear ended up chasing him because he had leftover food in his pocket. He just had terrible luck the whole trip and guess who was near him that whole time.”

Everyone turned to look at alastor who continues to eat with a thin smile. “What? He talked over everyone, made crude jokes to my wife, and thought he could play jokes on ME of all people. The trip was more enjoyable with him unconscious. He should consider himself lucky he’s not dead, had he not been my wife’s good friend he wouldn’t have left the camp grounds.”

“I still can’t believe all of that really was you” You made your way back to the sink to clean the dishes, you could hear all the complements on your food and while you thanked them you could feel something pulling at your side. It’s nifty, and it looks like she’s trying to reach for your face. “A mess! Don’t worry I’ll get it miss.” You didn’t know what on earth she was taking about untill you felt someone come behind you and a wet sensation on your cheek.

It didn’t dawn on you what happened until you saw Alastor behind you. You blush in embarrassment realizing that he licked your cheek. “You had a little sauce on your face dear, now come sit and eat” you were about to comment until angel muttered. “I can’t believe I got that” you turned to see him holding his phone up, he must’ve wanted to take pictures of you and alastor. Speaking of alastor you don’t think you could move fast enough to stop him from pouncing at angel dust.

Speaking of alastor you don’t think you could move fast enough to stop him from pouncing at angel dust. “Alastor No!” Lucky enough Lucifer had been enough to restrain him. But if looks could kill both Lucifer and Angel would be dead by now. Seeing as the “big dick in charge” had a hold on Alastor, Angel Dust decided to get one final jab in. “Can you tell us a story now of why Ole freak face is sad in the sack?”

Too bad for him Lucifer’s grip couldn’t hold shadows though.

This was not proof read much~

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim @thereeallink @sakuraluna2468 @fandomfan-102 @crystal-freak24

[1lenii]

Is that my Hair Tie?

42/1610!Miles x F!Reader

basically everytime miles is over, he take something to remember you by when he’s on prowler duties (more often then not a hair tie)

Not really angst(?) but definitely fluff

Reader knows Miles is the Prowler ‼️

Translate the Spanish line Might do another part to this

Enjoy⭐️

****************************************************

“Miles!! Hey baby, why you over so late?”

(Y/N) was wrapped in a towel seemingly ready to shower as she greeted Miles who was coming in through her window

“Just wanted to spend some time with you before I left for…”

Miles trails off averting your eyes, looking at the feet of your bed frame, while leaning on the window pain in the process.

(Y/N) clicks her tongue in acknowledgement shuffling from her previous spot

“Oh.. lemme shower first, yea?”

“Oh yea go for it” Miles mumbles

Giving Miles a light kiss, she made her way to the bathroom closing the door behind her, few seconds later hearing the water hit the bathtub floor, going down the drain

Miles is left with his thoughts as he scans (Y/N) room, noticing the rhinestone covered headboard

The boxes of Jordan which he bought a while back so they could match

The pile of folded clothes ready to be put away

The way the stuffed animals sit organized on her bed from biggest to smallest

And the jewelry pieces on their respected hangers on her vanity

Out of all of these extravagant things Miles takes particular interest in a hair tie.

A spiral hair tie, the colors of purple and pink melting into 1 with a detachable heart charm

Pushing off the window pane, Miles makes his way to the desk with the Hair tie, carefully grabbing it and slipping it on his wrist which is now dangling in front of his face admiring it

Only breaking out of this trance when he heard the running water shut off, he quickly took a seat on (Y/N) bed

Not long after she comes out of the bathroom refreshed and her nightwear now making her way over to Miles

Taking a seat next Miles, embracing in a tight warm and heartfelt hug

“How long”

“What?”

“How long are you gonna be gone for?”

“..3 days max”

“I’ll miss you oka?”

“Y yo mucho más”

“Estoy enserio Miles, quiero que te cuides”

“I will ma, when have I ever not came back”

“Not presently”

“And never will”

Miles ended the conversation by pressing a kiss to (Y/N) lips, urging her to take comfort in her bed, slipping in with her.

(Y/N) wraps her arms around his torso pressing her forehead against his chest making sure to not let go.

Holding him till the morning.

Till he had to leave.

Till…

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

*3 days later, Miles came back from his duties as vigilante, and here we have Him and (Y/N) cuddling as soon as she cooked him to eat, now they are in each other embrace on the verge on sleeping*

“Hey Miles”

“Yea..?”

“Is that my hair tie?”

“No…”

“It totally is isn’t it, so you had it the whole time I was looking for it”

“…��

“No fake sleeping you faker” (Y/N) said poking at his face

“Not as fake as that stuffed rabbit you got there” he’s says opening one eye

“Your gotta be nice to mister hopps”

“You named it…”

“Duhh”

****************************************************

[angiechia]

"Little Brother"

John joins the gang

No ship intended, just a short random thing i wrote instead of sleeping :P

☆☆☆

Some random day in 1885

The day had been awful for Arthur.

It started with some promise, as Hosea suggested a job robbing a dressmaker in Saint Denis. Arthur agreed without realizing he'd end up running from three huge dogs guarding the lady’s house like loyal bodyguards, ready to bite and tear anyone who got too close. Meanwhile, Hosea was "distracting" the lady—if you could even call it that. It looked more like he was courting her.

After all that, Arthur’s cut was only 10 dollars. Not much, he thought, but he had no choice but to take it. He decided to blow off some steam at a saloon, where some fellow tried to pull a fast one on him and picked a fight. With his ego far too big for a man of just 22, Arthur accepted the challenge, even though the drunk was twice his size.

After getting beaten up, Arthur was in a foul mood. The only thing that might calm him down was a ride out in the open, so that’s what he did.

For some reason, he chose to ride through the Bayou, a place known for its giant gators and treacherous swamps. Lucky for him, Boadicea was a brave mare—brave against gunfire, hunters, and even ferocious wolves. But gators? They scared the hell out of her, which Arthur learned when a sleeping gator spooked her. She threw him off, sending him tumbling into the mud, and he had to scramble away from the reptile, who had just been trying to get some sleep.

After that, Arthur figured he’d distract himself by picking up a newspaper from a kid selling them in Rhodes. Maybe there’d be something interesting going on. But his heart sank when he read the newlyweds section and saw a name he knew too well.

Mary Gillis had gotten married.

Or rather, Mary Linton now.

He let out a deep sigh and threw the paper in the trash, anger boiling inside him. That’s it, he thought, I’m heading back to camp. I need some sleep.

Luckily, nothing much happened on his ride back to camp. If he was fortunate, he’d get to feast on Pearson’s stew tonight, and Miss Grimshaw would probably make him take a good soak in the nearest river.

When he arrived, he left Boadicea with the other horses and tried to sneak over to his tent, hoping to avoid Hosea, Dutch, Grimshaw, or Pearson. They were always asking favors, and being the youngest in the gang, that burden often fell on him.

“There you are, Mister Morgan!” Miss Grimshaw’s voice called out. He sighed. “I was just about to ask if you could fetch me a—My word! What in the world happened to you?” the woman exclaimed, seeing him covered in mud.

“…I fell” Telling her his horse threw him off seemed a bit embarrassing, right?

“Sure looks like it… Let me see—” She moved in quick to grab his hat, probably planning to clean it up and send him off to wash, but Arthur stepped back, gently pushing her hands away. Nobody touched his hat.

“Whoa there! I reckon I’m just fine, Miss Grimshaw. Just need a little sleep.”

“You smell like you’ve been rollin’ in a cesspool, young man! I ain’t havin’ you stinkin’ up the camp. Get yourself cleaned up, you hear?” Her voice took on a sharper edge, and Arthur rolled his eyes, heading toward the river.

“Just what I needed,” he muttered, tossing his jacket on the ground. Miss Grimshaw snatched it up with a huff, planning to wash it later.

His bath was quick but did the trick, and once he was cleaned up, he headed back to camp.

“Much better, Arthur!” she said with a clap of approval as he walked past her, making him feel a bit sheepish. Once again, he made for his tent, but before he could enter, another voice stopped him.

“Mr. Morgan!” It was Pearson, the camp cook.

Arthur let out another weary sigh and made his way over to the “kitchen,” if you could call it that. “Mr. Pearson,” he greeted, his tone dry.

“I’ve had a hankerin’ for some rabbit lately,” Pearson said as he skillfully chopped vegetables. Dinner was close, the sun sinking fast.

“Rabbit?”

“Yep! Them big ones you find out on the prairies. Think you could hunt me some for tomorrow?”

At least he didn’t need it now. “Sure,” Arthur agreed, giving a nod before turning once more toward his tent. Just as he was about to step inside, he was intercepted by...

“There ya are, Arthur!” Dutch Van Der Linde.

"Now what, Dutch?" Years of trust between them allowed for a more relaxed exchange.

"Son, I heard about Mary..."

"No."

"I know, I know, Arthur. You probably don’t wanna talk about her, but… well, I remember how much you cared."

"Dutch," Arthur grumbled, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

"What I’m tryin’ to say is there’s plenty of women out there, son, plenty! You can find another."

Arthur got angry, pushing open the tent flaps without stepping inside yet. "Mary’s in the past!" he lied. "It doesn’t hurt 'cause I’m over it, and I don’t want another woman, thank you!" His tone betrayed him.

Arthur entered his tent and let the canvas flaps fall behind him, shutting Dutch out. He ran his hands over his face in frustration, cursing silently while quickly untying the bandana from his neck and shrugging off his suspenders. That’s when he heard something coming from his bed—a snore.

Arthur fumbled around his desk until he found the gas lamp and lit it. As the tent filled with light, his eyes landed on a kid with dark hair sprawled out awkwardly on his bed, uncovered, mouth open, drooling on his pillow with crooked teeth.

"And why in the hell is there a damn kid in my bed?!" Arthur bellowed from inside the tent, waking the boy with a start.

"Ah, that’s John," Dutch replied from outside. "Hosea and I rescued him today; they were gonna hang him."

"Wha... what’s goin' on?" the boy, around twelve years old, mumbled, his face barely masking the confusion as he looked up at the man before him.

"And you gave him my bed?!" Arthur got out from his tent, incredulity etched across his face, while Dutch beamed like he’d done the best deed of the day.

"Well, we didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You took your time."

"Well, here I am. But who’da thought we’d turn into a damn orphanage and start adoptin’ brats?"

"What’d you call me, old man?!" the kid hollered from behind him.

Arthur, surprised, turned slowly to face John, repeating what he’d just heard. "Old man? Old man?! I’m twenty-two!"

"Yeah, twenty-two in each foot. You’re older than a barrel of aged whiskey."

Arthur resisted the urge to pounce on the quick-tongued kid. "Who do you think you are, you little...?"

"But ain't this a heart-warmin’ sight?" Dutch chimed in with a smile. "He’s just like you were when we found you."

"At least I respected my elders," Arthur shot back, glaring at the kid sprawled in his bed. "Outta my bed, now!"

"I ain’t movin’ nowhere, old man!" John retorted.

"Oh, come on, Arthur, the boy’s exhausted. You know what it’s like to be nearly hanged? First, they tighten that noose 'round your neck so hard you can barely breathe, and when they hang you, crack, your neck snaps. Poor little John must’ve been scared outta his wits."

Arthur glanced at the kid again, who now put on a pitiful face, nodding along.

"This is a joke, right?" Arthur said, exasperated.

"You wouldn’t mind sleepin’ under the stars tonight, would ya?" Dutch asked.

Arthur looked at the man, then at the kid, sighed, and said, "Just… don’t touch my stuff," with a stern voice.

"Relax, I won’t touch your junk," little John said innocently as he settled back into bed.

"Little shit..." Arthur muttered under his breath as he walked out of the tent. He looked at Dutch. "He ain’t gonna be in my tent long, is he?"

"Well… you wouldn’t mind sharin’ it, would ya?"

"DUTCH!"

"Oh, quit your whinin’, Arthur! The boy can’t sleep alone. We don’t know if he’ll try to rob us or slit our throats in our sleep."

"And you’re makin’ me watch him?"

"You’re the youngest of the gang, ain’t you? Or, well… you were." Arthur gave him a hard look. "Look on the bright side; it’s like you got yourself a little brother."

[thefrogman]

I hate that when I write posts like these I can either do them in a fun, creative way that grabs people's attention or write them with extreme information density, explaining every varible and citing every example—making sure that I preemptively avoid comments like this.

I like using metaphors and subtext. I don't think people always want things explained down to every technical detail. And I choose not to insult people's intelligence.

But when I do that and people miss the subtext or don't completely understand the metaphorical approach I used, I get comments like these.

No, the shallow depth of field is not the only variable and Mister Rogers is not the only example.

I thought that was fairly clear.

I do not have the time or energy to list every single factor and every possible show, movie, commercial, etc. that helped train people's brains. That post would be a lot more technical and a lot less fun.

But I really hate getting these comments. Because I feel like people are accusing me of not knowing what I'm talking about or that I'm lying or bullshitting.

I'm giving you a 101 explanation and inviting you to jump into the rabbit hole if you want to gain a deeper understanding.

Can I just ask that people approach this with curiosity instead of skepticism?

Instead of the snarky "that seems like a stretch", maybe ask a question.

Like, "What if someone never saw Mister Rogers and still sees the photos as miniature?"

And then myself or someone in the replies can give a more detailed explanation. It turns into a fun discussion. And I don't curl up into a ball of despair.

[couch-house]

Fleebay Beepo playlist! [youtube link] [zip link]

it's been foreverrr since i finished a character playlist--i missed doing this! tracklist and director's commentary under the cut teehee :)

if you disagree with any of my choices, just remember: 1) this is my playlist for me to listen to made of songs I like for me 2) you just don't see my vision 3) you don't know him like i do 4) make your own so i can disagree with yours too.

WDKYWMYAK -- Rabbit junk

This is a Killing Game After All -- Gadgetor

chance bought this cd from the comic store. i think the album is Doom-inspired? pretty cool! check it out! anyway this first section is pretty obviously all violence killing and maiming etc

3. All Futures -- The Armed

4. Bears -- Mass of the Fermenting Dregs

5. You Know What You Are -- Ministry

6. 1969 -- Boards of Canada

we're coming down out of the chaotic songs into some confusion for the amnesia arc, starting with ministry and boards of canada. 7 references an unwilling change of the self, and just fits the vibe right now. 8... should be obvious lol.

7. Long Road Home -- Oneohtrix Point Never

8. I Don't Remember -- Peter Gabriel

9. Come Back June -- Pussy

sorry i heard a psychedelic rock song that starts with a big cat meow and blacked out. EBONY MOMENT!!! this and the next couple songs are again more about contributing to the Feeling of the groovy train than a direct relation to the lyrics. though 10 can be justified by the fact he's british.

10. Hey, Mister Sun -- Bobby Sherman

11. Baby All the Time -- Julien Love (NOTE: NOT IN YT PLAYLIST)

12. Handlebars -- Flobots

i didn't think i would end up keeping this song when i threw it on here but it just... works really well structurally. sigh... okay well it kind of works thematically. we're moving into some merger au territory at this point, which is my way as a fan to give fleet more of a self-actualization arc. establish his own identity, make friends, accept his existence a bit more. 13 is again more focused on the caring environment of groovy train (and the idea that this won't last forever) but we'll come back around to merger in a second.

13. Cursis Melodías -- Natalia Lafourcade

14. Flagiolletes -- Billy Mahonie

15. Wake Up To Be You -- The Aesthetics

i'm so obsessed with this as a song from fleet to sonic. esp focused on the idea of fleet being the trauma dump that everyone wants dead and sonic being the one who gets to keep their friends. another lucky cd find--this time thrifted. this band still has their old website up--you can contact them if you'd like to get ahold of your own copy!

16. Every Home a Prison ft. Jello Biafra -- DJ Coldcut (Inevitable Alien Nation mix)

i'm in love with this song. we're back in merger au btw. fleet is now a goddamn hooligan in the street (teenager socializing outside with his friends).

17. Default -- Django Django

we're getting to the end of his life! canon, not au. once again on the idea of fleet (dying, cringe) being a comparative failure. the next two songs are our big explosive end! 18 is another band i found from a thrifted cd. lucky!

18. Werewolf -- Progger

19. light speed drift ft Kasane Teto + Adachi Rei -- frog96

the end! thanks for listening! ^_^ as a treat, YOU get to see the special bonus track: The Adventures of Little White Baby -- No Soap, Radio.

[fakeagatha]

A/N: So, the idea of an Agatha/Mrs Fletcher Crossover had crossed my mind before, but when I heard Kathryn saying that she would like the idea of Agatha being in Mrs Fletcher, it was the confirmation I needed to write for it.

Wrong Reality | Agatha Harkness & Eve Fletcher | Chapter 1: The Accident

Summary: Agatha has an accident, and ends up in the wrong reality, when Eve comes to her aid.

Warnings: Injury, Swearing

Word Count: 1063

Agatha groaned, wandering into her kitchen that morning, her hair a mess and the bags under her eyes very visible. She made herself some tea before making her way to her front porch, to silently judge people passing by.

She sipped on her tea, casually eyeing down the couples hand in hand, her neighbors heading to work and children walking to the local school of Westview. Since being broken out of Wanda's spell, she has found herself more at peace, in her own weird way.

As she lounged, she noticed her Rabbit, Señor Scratchy, chasing a rather large lizard across the road. She caught him before he could cross, sighing, "Mister, you're not supposed to chase reptiles." She said as she placed him down on her chair, and made her way across the street to inspect the bush which the lizard had ran into.

Before she could realize what had happened, a large impact knocked her to the ground. Her vision darkened, the last thing she could see being a car's number plate.

...

Agatha stirred, open her eyes and whining groggily. A middle aged woman was sitting next to her, her blue eyes lighting up as she awoke.

"Nurse!" She heard the woman call, and Agatha grunted as a couple doctors and nurses examined her.

"She's stable. That was quite a hard hit, but not hard enough for any damage." She heard a doctor say. Agatha winced, sitting up. "What the fuck happened?"

The woman next to her spoke up, "I was driving, and suddenly you were just there, I didn't even see you step into the road, I'm so sorry!" She sobbed, and Agatha raised an eyebrow. "I was hit by a damn car?" She rolled her eyes.

Their conversation was interrupted by one of the doctors, "Ma'am, we couldn't find any records of you at all. What is your name?"

"Agatha Harkness." She replied bluntly.

The doctor hummed, taking one final look at the examination results. "Well, Miss Harkness, you're free to go. Surprisingly, you are completely stable. Just make sure to rest, and check both ways before crossing a street." The doctors exited the room, leaving her and the mysterious woman alone.

Agatha scoffed, mimicking the doctor. She looked up at the figure above her, raising an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled, "My name's Eve, again, I'm so, so sorry Agatha, I feel terrible." She sighed, and Agatha shook her off. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine." She cleared her throat, getting out of the hospital bed and looking out of the window, her eyes widening as she saw the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Uh, Rachel-"

"It's Eve,"

"Whatever. Where are we, exactly?" Agatha asked.

"Haddington, Massachusetts. I'm assuming your memory is quite foggy-" She spoke, before Agatha raised her hand, signalling for her to stop talking.

"I live in New Jersey..." She said to herself, and Eve gave her a concerned look.

"I think you need some time to recover. How about you come back to mine? It's the least I could do for you, Agatha, unless you'd rather me take you home, or have someone else to look after you?" Eve offered, and the witch shrugged, knowing that there wasn't much of an option. "Sure, okay... We can go to yours," She sighed.

The two women checked out of the hospital, and the drive back to Eve's home was silent. Agatha looked out the window, feeling at a complete loss as she didn't recognize anything around her. This wasn't the place she lived, and she doesn't understand how she could have ended up in the state she was born in, yet moved away from years ago after the incident with her coven.

Eventually, Eve pulled up to a suburban home, and opened the passenger's side door for Agatha. She stepped out of the car, and followed the younger woman into her house. The witch looked around, taking in the cozy atmosphere of her living room. Eve lead Agatha to her couch, and sat her down.

"Would you like me to make you something to drink?" Eve asked, and Agatha simply nodded. Eve knew that the woman in front of her clearly wasn't right, whether she was simply tired and not fully recovered, or if it was something deeper. All she knew was that she had to repay the woman she hit with her car, with some temporary accommodation as she most likely did not have any family.

Agatha, on the other hand, stared into the distance, occasionally taking in her surroundings and looking at the details of the house. She was still feeling dazed from the whole situation, but still felt extremely confused, and she needed to know what the hell was happening to her.

As Eve set down a cup of tea in front of her, Agatha asked, "What happened, exactly? Where was I when you hit me?" She asked, and Eve sat down next to her.

"Well, I was driving down the street of a nearby block, and it was almost as if you had appeared out of nowhere..." Eve said calmly, "I looked away for a split second, and there you were in front of the car."

Agatha simply stared at her, blinking, "Ra- I mean, Eve, I live in a town in New Jersey. I was simply crossing the road by my house, this quite literally isn't possible."

Eve furrowed her brows, shaking her head, "Look, I think you should just rest, and we can get you sorted in the morning, alright?" She smiled, "You can sleep in my son's room, but we use it as a guest room. He's at college now-" Agatha cut her off.

"Can you just tell me tomorrow morning?" She rubbed her forehead, "I need to rest." Eve quickly nodded, apologizing and taking Agatha into the bedroom. "Just... call me if you need anything, alright?" She smiled, and Agatha nodded in response.

"Thanks..." She muttered, and the younger woman closed the door behind her as she left.

As soon as she heard the door close, Agatha quickly opened her palm, only to see there was no essence of power at all. "I got my powers back from the Witches' Road last year..." She thought to herself, her face filling with horror at the realization that there was no sign of life in her magic.

She slumped down onto the bed, running her hands over her face, feeling too exhausted to do anything else. She closed her eyes, and sleep overtook her at the same time.

[cave-monkey]

I ran out of tags on the last post, but I think all that's missing is laughing about Six Ears just popping up out of nowhere in the middle of the episode like the writers just straight up forgot about him the entire first half and had to scramble to stick him back in when they were reminded, and the fact that I'm preeeetty sure he couldn't actually see [the old lady]? You're telling me Six Ears, who generally has functional social skills, wouldn't have at least acknowledged an elderly woman after he ran right up next to her and interrupted her conversation with Stone Monkey? Not even a glance or nod? I don't believe it. That's a Stone Monkey move.

So, if that's the case, from Six Ears's perspective, he runs up to his friend who's been missing all day (after a battle!), who was sobbing not long ago and just fell out of a tree so he probably looks somewhat wrecked, filthy and unkempt, gets a mushroom (which might be the impossible-to-find hyper-magical miracle mushroom???) thrown at him while Stone Monkey babbles about needing to help this old lady (???) out, and by the time he glances back up it's to find Stone Monkey hobbling off at full speed like thin air now suddenly weighs as much as the whole mountain before he can ask 'what the fuck?'

Honestly, even if he could see [the old lady] and just ranked a random old human woman waaaay lower in priority than checking on his best friend/member of his actual troop, this situation is wild.

No wonder he scolded Stone Monkey later.

Actually, thinking about it, he probably made his way back to the cave from wherever he was at the beginning of the episode only to simultaneously hear the news that not only was Old Monkey King in serious condition, but Stone Monkey was gone and had maybe headed toward the Forbidden Forest on a suicide mission quick little errand.

Which makes me think, since Six Ears ran into Stone Monkey on his way back from the Forbidden Forest, going the exact opposite direction, that Six Ears was actually trying to go after Stone Monkey even if it meant going straight into the the maw of the death place. Aww.

Also laughing about Jade Rabbit being so mean (she made him cry for funsies) but also that Stone Monkey apparently likes his friends a little mean so I guess it works out.

Monkey King 2009 Episode 5

NO.

GENERALS!!!

I JUST STARTED TO BELIEVE IN YOU

a lot - and I mean a lot - happened this episode. but I'm mad about THIS.

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A: Sun will R1ze!> 001-A05 First Strategy Meeting

A translation of 18TRIP's CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

Kafka: Mhm, all the founding employees being assembled really makes you feel like the reality of it all has kicked in.

Kafka: However, what we’re doing here isn’t some get together for friends. Bringing proper results is our goal. For the time being I want to explain the restoration plan I came up with though, is that okay?

Yachiyo: …Um, uhm…

Yachiyo: That special tourism ward thingie mentioned in the documents… What uh, is …it?

Kafka: ………

Sakujiro: I cannot believe we have to start from there.

Yachiyo: Sosososososorry!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kaede: (Living in JPN in this day and age, and not knowing about special tourism wards… Maybe Yachiyo-kun is some sheltered boy?)

Kafka: Sakujiro, you know what to do.

Sakujiro: Of course, President. Fuefuki-kun, please look this way. It’s an educational video aimed at children titled “Tourism For Beginners”. 

Kaede: (That video…! It’s the one I saw while I was in preschool…!)

Mister Rabbit: “Hello all good boys and girls! Today Mister Rabbit and-”

Little Miss Lion: “Little Miss Lion~!”

Mister Rabbit & Little Miss Lion: “-Will be learning all about the tourism industry~!”

Little Miss Lion: “Hey hey Mister, why do people call JPN the nashion of toorism?”

Mister Rabbit: “Good question, Little Lion! You see, JPN isn’t the only “nation of tourism” out there, since many countries all over the world are the same as JPN!”

Mister Rabbit: “People from the past worked very hard and made many machines. Thanks to the power of science, everyone’s got lots and lots of free time! Which is why traveling became a very popular way of playing!”

Little Miss Lion: “People from all over the woreld are trafeling!?”

Mister Rabbit: “Yes they are! A lot of effort was put into creating a “Ministry of Tourism” so everyone can have lots of fun, even in JPN!

Mister Rabbit: “In particular, the places where lots of tourists go to play are called “special tourism wards”, and support is provided in all sorts of ways throughout the whole country so everyone can have fun!”

Little Miss Lion: “Waaah~! Does that mean taxes becoming cheaper too~!?”

Mister Rabbit: “Yes, you bet! Among other things, in a “special tourism ward”, there’s the official position of “0th Ward Mayor”, someone with a loooot of powerful authority!

Little Miss Lion: Little Lion love love loves authoreety~! What can I do if I become the 0th Ward Mayor? Can I destroy the entire neighborhood~?”

Mister Rabbit: “Ahaha! Little Miss Lion makes some funny jokes! But, maybe you can? wink”

Mister Rabbit: “The 0th Ward Mayor can advertise tourism, choose who gets to be a Ward Mayor and decide on what the local tourism should be about!”

Mister Rabbit: “Whether it's killing or reviving the neighborhood, that all depends on the 0th Ward Mayor and the other mayors!”

Little Miss Lion: “Waaauw, when I grow up Little Miss Lion will definitely become the 0th ward mayor and obtain all the authoreety in the world~!”

Kaede: (... Did this video always have such a dark twist to it…?)

Yachiyo: Tremble tremble tremble… The 0th Ward Mayor is an authoritarian figure……………!

Daniel: Hweh~ I see now, uh-huh~ That’s what special tourism wards and 0th Ward Mayors were all about, huh.

Kaede: (Hold on, what do you mean Daniel-san didn’t know about this!? The previous company he worked at WAS a travel agency…!)

Kafka: So, the mentioned 0th Ward Mayor is what I am, basically…

Yachiyo: Hieh, you’re gonna destroy the neighborhood…!?

Kafka: Well, whether the ward sinks or swims all depends on the Ward Mayor themself. In fact, my own father is the one who almost killed HAMA, so…

Kaede: (Kafka, your smile is creepy…)

Kafka: It wasn’t mentioned in the video, but special tourism wards also have their disadvantages.

Kafka: Instead of receiving support from the country, they’re put under surveillance by the 23 wards of Tokyo connected to the government. Our own supervisory authority is in the hands of Tokyo’s 8th Ward Mayor.

Kaede: Shigematsu Hakkei-san who was at the inauguration… right?

Kafka: Yes. Ward Mayors like him frequently come sightseeing without prior notice. So if the hospitality level is low, a negative review will be drafted up immediately—think of them like some kind of menace of a sister-in-law. 

Nayuki: However, you cut all financial support from the capital, right? Then in that case, the 8th Ward of Tokyo must not have the right to interfere with tourism policies anymore. 

Kafka: Exactly that♪ I’ll be taking bold, drastic measures with our tourism policies this year.

Kafka: If we don’t reach the quota of required tourists in a year, HAMA will lose its status as a special tourism ward and my role will disappear too. 

Kaede: We just gotta get over that hurdle of drawing in tourists, right…

Kafka: So that’s all to say, in order to revive HAMA I put a plan together under the name of “NEO18Wards”.

Nayuki: According to the documents… the benchmark is the 9 wards of KOBE? 

Yachiyo: Marking benches?

Sakujiro: A blueprint, an example, the goal we’re aiming for. That’s the meaning of it, Fuefuki-kun.

Yachiyo: Muh! Memo, memo…!

Kaede: Why KOBE-9 though, if you don’t mind telling us?

Kafka: The reason is simple. KOBE and HAMA are both port cities, making them rivals that've been getting compared for as long as they've existed. Though, KOBE is crushing the competition at the moment.

Nayuki: If I remember correctly, KOBE did a large-scale reformation on their approach to tourism a few years back, and established a plan for the Ward Mayors to be directly involved with hospitality.

Kafka: Exactly. To begin with, what people are trying to find by traveling is a fresh, personal human connection that they cannot experience on a daily basis due to the mechanization and automation of the modern age. 

Kafka: Such an element cannot be easily replicated by technology.

Kaede: (That’s true…)

Kafka: HAMA’s failure is attributed to the surplus of tourism policies attracting way too many tourists for its own good, and in turn this lowered the quality of hospitality to each individual as a whole.

Kafka: To get us out of this situation, it’s necessary to give tourists the experience of courteous hospitality just like in KOBE. 

Nayuki: A simple but a very reliable method, if I had to say. Nonetheless, what do we do about the policies to increase tourism?

Kafka: That’s the Nayuki I know, always quick on the uptake♪

Kafka: First, we’ll narrow it down to domestic affairs… When thinking about the population of JPN, there are only so many people that travel on a regular basis, after all.

Kafka: It’s a situation where every city wants a piece of the pie. Keeping that in mind, the only way to increase tourism is by increasing the amount of repeat tourists. 

Kafka: Not just touring all the famous spots as people have been until now, but transforming all of HAMA into a tourist attraction and establishing a fanbase is what’s essential here. Which is why… I intend to increase the number of Ward Mayors for exactly this reason. 

Kaede: More Ward Mayors…?

Kafka: Currently, there are three Ward Mayors left in HAMA. The plan is to appoint a Ward Mayor to all 18 wards in due time.

Nayuki: It’s the 0th Ward Mayor’s job to lead the other mayors, right. Wouldn’t management be a heavy burden with such a large number of people?

Kafka: It’s me, remember? Think I can’t pull it off?

Nayuki: … You have a point.

Kafka: Though, first we start bolstering what we have with the current Ward Mayors. Sakujiro, you know what to do.

Sakujiro: Yes, President. Click click, as you asked.

Kaede: …Splitting up the 18 wards into four areas? By morning, noon, evening and night…?

Kafka: That’s right. By the way, the intention behind the name is along the lines of “Enjoy your trip to HAMA from morning till night”♪

Kafka: Which leads us to the following. Yachiyo, Sakujiro, Nayuki and Daniel. All of you will be providing full-time support to each squad respectively. As for the role itself—I’ll simply call you “conductors”.

Yachiyo: Eh, eeeh…!? Such, such an important task, me!?

Kaede: (For Yachiyo-kun this is definitely too much… W-wonder if this is okay.)

Kafka: No worries. Yachiyo is in charge of Morning Squad, which includes me. Chief-chan, you’ll be keeping an eye on all squads, okay?

Kaede: G-got it.

Kaede: (I feel the pressure, but… I said I’ll face anything that comes at me. Gonna give it my all…!)

Nayuki: Dividing into groups and establishing squads, I can understand. However, what is the meaning behind going through the trouble of dividing?

Kafka: The fact that we’ll get the Ward Mayors of each squad to coordinate and create a superior touring plan. There's a limit on how much our tourism resources can be fortified when our time is restricted to one year. 

Kaede: (That’s true… Right now we’re unable to sit down and create new facilities, and increasing what sights to see isn’t an easy task.) 

Kafka: But, we do have something we can use immediately. What do you think that is?

Yachiyo: Eh……, eh………

Kaede: Can use immediately…?

Daniel: Our amazing Bossman’s money? Gahah, just joshing!

Nayuki: …I see, that’s what it is.

Kafka: It’s none other than human resources. 

Kaede: (Ah…!)

Kafka: I’ve said it before, right? What people look for on travels is something that cannot be replicated by technology. 

Kafka: Extremely hard to quantify that the numbers may as well be random. An existence whose pattern is indecipherable to the whole word. That’s what “humans” are.

Kafka: I’m wagering on the “human” potential of Ward Mayors. A meeting between people—there’s no personal experience more intense than that. 

Nayuki: If this is the President’s plan of action, I will provide my support.

Nayuki: Though, will the current Ward Mayors give their endorsements? All wards had been operating independently up until now. 

Kafka: I’m the 0th Ward Mayor, remember?

Kafka: Just sit back and watch how I’ll make them say yes.

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chapter 001 side A directory: TBA upon completion