#mostly cause it's funny

[legolasghosty]

your one shot with willie and the sticky notes was so lovely, one of the first thing popped in my tl :)) especially the part where Willie says it began with Caleb sending him notes.

can i ask for a story of that? Willie and Caleb getting along and Caleb sending him notes inside his lunch to school, fancy handwriting and all? tysm it doesn't have to be short :)

Absolutely you may!!! I have had many thoughts about that since I wrote it! Here's the story being referenced if folks are curious! One note, Willie is in like 7th grade at the time of this story, and it's January. Willie came to live with Caleb in mid-December.

Willie bolted down the stairs, scared out of his mind. He'd overslept, and it was his first day of school since coming to Caleb's house. And while the man had seemed kind and understanding so far, Willie had seen his fair share of nice people who got less nice when they had to deal with Willie's inability to keep track of time.

He slid into the kitchen on his socks and almost ran into the kitchen island. The polished, hardwood floors that covered the downstairs area of Caleb's home were a lot slicker than he was used to. He stumbled and caught himself against a tall stool. At least no one had seen that little-

"Oh good, I was afraid I'd have to leave for work before you got up."

Whoops.

Willie looked up sheepishly to see Caleb leaning against the counter beside the sink, a cup of coffee in his hand and an amused smile pulling at his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled, standing up straight.

But Caleb only waved a hand, as if to dismiss even the thought of an apology. "Please, I did the same thing when I was your age," he chuckled. "The only reason I stopped was because my hips started protesting at how often I ran into things."

Willie's mouth fell open in surprise for a moment before the voice of one of his old foster moms popped into his head, ordering him to close his mouth before he swallowed a bug. He wondered how long it would be before Caleb stopped dropping random bits of personal history and blowing his mind like that.

"-not an expert, but you did say waffles are your favorite," Caleb said, placing a plate on the counter in front of Willie and startling him from his thoughts. "Syrup?"

"Uh, yeah, thank you," Willie stammered, not sure whether to look at the plate of slightly burnt waffles or at Caleb. He'd overslept and he still got a special breakfast?

"Of course, William," Caleb responded lightly, smiling. "It's your first day at a new school, cereal would be a crime."

Willie opened his mouth to say... something else, though he wasn't sure what, but was cut off by a buzz from Caleb's phone. The man glanced down at the screen and sighed.

"Duty calls," he remarked dryly, slipping the device into the pocket of his slacks and reaching for his jacket. "You have your key still, right?"

Willie nodded around a mouthful of waffle and tugged the silver chain out from under his shirt to show him. Caleb nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Your lunch is in the fridge, and I should be home around the same time as you. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

Willie nodded again, scared to trust the warm feeling in his chest but wanting so badly to let it travel through his entire being. To let it chase away the cold of forgotten birthdays and rushed PB&Js and angry words. Maybe this time would be different.

"Have a good first day," Caleb finished, pausing near the front door to grin back at Willie. "I'm looking forward to hearing all about it when I get home."

"Have a good day at work!" Willie responded, giving the man a thumbs up.

Willie finished his food quickly after Caleb left. He still had to get out in time to catch the bus to his new middle school. Once the dishes were in the sink, he grabbed a sweatshirt to shield him from the January chills and opened the fridge. There, on the middle shelf, was a big lunchbox with his name on the top in big, fancy letters.

He grinned, grabbed the box, and bolted out the door.

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

It wasn't till two weeks later that Caleb wasn't in the kitchen when Willie got up for school. There was a text on his phone when he managed to turn off his alarm, explaining that Caleb had an early meeting and had to be in the office over an hour before he usually did. Willie sent him back a thumbs up and a smiley face, ignoring the voice of his old foster dad in his head, complaining that emojis were tacky and shouldn't be an entire message.

He found his lunch waiting in the fridge and hurried through his breakfast to be on time for the bus. It wasn't until he was entering the library at lunch time that he opened the little green cooler to see what Caleb had packed him. He found a BLT sandwich (with a sparkly gold toothpick stuck through it, cause that was the kind of person Caleb was), carrot sticks, a package each of mini pretzels and corn chips, a bottle of orange juice, and a folded slip of paper.

Willie laid out his paper napkin over the table, just like his third grade librarian had taught him, and unfolded the paper. It was a note, written in Caleb's flowy, steady hand. Willie felt that warm feeling in his chest again. He didn't fight it as hard this time.

But then he tried to read it. And it was clearly English, but all the letters were connected and some of them didn't really look like letters. He could get his name at the top, and words here and there in the middle, but the overall message... Willie had no clue.

He sighed, feeling cold. Did rich people have another lettering system they used or something? One more thing to look up online later, he supposed. Willie set the note aside and started eating. He tried to focus on the nice flavors of the sandwich and the sweet tang of the juice, but the note kept pulling his attention anyways.

"Um, are you okay?"

Willie jumped in his seat, almost dropping his food as he spun to see a blond boy, probably about his own age, standing behind him.

"You've been staring at that paper like it kicked your cat for like ten minutes," the blond boy added, shifting from foot to foot when Willie didn't say anything.

"Oh, yeah, I'm good," Willie said quickly, clapping a hand over Caleb's note. "It's nothing. Who are you?"

He wanted to groan, talk about being the awkward, suspicious foster kid. But there's nothing to be done about it now.

"I'm Alex," the other boy responded, not seeming put off at all by Willie's abruptness. "I think we're in the same English class?"

Willie nodded slowly, now connecting the boy in front of him to the quiet, curious kid who sat a couple of rows over from him. "I'm Willie," he offered, setting down his sandwich to offer a hand to shake like all the adults did.

Alex smiled when he shook his hand and Willie felt warm again. Not quite the same kind of warm, but warm all the same. People hadn't really been mean at this school, but well... there was a reason Willie was eating lunch alone in the library. It was nice to talk to someone who maybe could be a friend.

"Okay can I ask about the paper?" Alex questioned, his eyes straying from Willie's face to where his hand was still covering the note. "You can totally say no, but now I'm hooked and it's driving me crazy."

"I mean you kinda just did," Willie pointed out, surprised by the giggle that bubbled out of his mouth along with the words. "But um, yeah, it's just a note from my foster...dad." It felt funny to call Caleb that. Not bad, just weird. He didn't think he'd called him that out loud before.

"And that's... a bad thing?" Alex said slowly, brows drawing together.

"No, it's cool, it's sweet," Willie insisted. "I just... I can't really..." He bites his lip, not wanting to reveal the truth. But also, he was already weird. And Alex seemed nice. "I can't read it," he admitted quietly.

A short huff of laughter escaped from Alex's lips and Willie felt his face turning red. But then Alex dropped down into the chair beside him.

"You want me to try?" the blond boy offered. "My dad has lousy handwriting too so I'm used to deciphering."

Willie stared at him for a second, trying to comprehend the words he was saying. Was he really trying to help? Just cause? What did he want in return?

"I don't have to," Alex said in a rush when Willie didn't respond. "I just wanted to help but I get it if it's personal and stuff, you just seem really cool and I kinda wanted an excuse to talk to you and it looked like it was really bugging you so-" he said without seeming to breathe before cutting himself off. "Sorry."

"No you're good," Willie responded, feeling a smile forming on his face. "And... yeah, worth a shot." Steadying himself internally, he handed Alex the paper.

Alex returned his grin and took the note. He stared at it for a long moment, then laughed again. Willie hadn't noticed before that he had a really nice laugh.

"It's cursive," Alex said, looking up from the paper. "No wonder you couldn't read it."

Dang, had Willie been right about Rich People Alphabet?! "What's cursive?" he asked, confused.

"It's basically fancy handwriting," Alex explained, leaning his elbows on the table. "Nobody uses it anymore really except random adults. My mom made me and my sisters learn it though."

"Rich people are weird," Willie sighed, chuckling and shaking his head. "So does that mean you can read Caleb's note then?"

"Yeah, his handwriting is a bit slanty, but I think..." Alex mused. "Okay. It says, 'Hello William, I hope your day is going well. Sorry I had to leave so early this morning, I'm going to trust that you still ate breakfast. I can't wait to hear all about your day when you get home. Best wishes, Caleb."

Willie laughed and nodded as Alex read it out slowly. That sounded like Caleb.

"P.S.," Alex continued, holding up a finger before Willie could say anything, "Your horoscope this morning said people will surprise you today. I hope it's a good surprise."

Willie glanced up from the paper to the face of the boy holding it. "I think it's a good surprise," he said slowly.

Alex looked up and his ears turned pink when he caught Willie's gaze. "You should probably have him teach you cursive if he's gonna keep leaving you notes like this," he said quickly, handing the paper back. "I mean I can't always be around to translate. What if I get the flu?"

Willie giggled. "Nope, you're never allowed to get sick anymore," he declared. "I need you to read Caleb's fancy person handwriting for me."

"Wow, I see how it is," Alex remarked dryly, smirking. "I'm nothing but my skills to you."

Willie started to protest, to clarify that he'd been joking, but Alex burst out laughing before he could speak.

"Sorry," Alex said once he got his breath back. "I was just messing with you. I know you didn't mean it like that."

"Whew, I was worried there for a second," Willie admitted. Then, hesitantly, he added, "Friends?"

"Friends," Alex agreed.

Willie grinned, feeling all warm inside again. He couldn't wait to get home and tell Caleb all about how people had surprised him today.

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

ok but i've heard that WAX STAN 3: THE THREEQUEL: THIS TIME IT'S IMPERSONAL is the best out of the franchise

[bet-on-me-13]

Ghostly Host AU

So! Ghosts need a physical Anchor in the living world, or they are liable to fall apart and fade away if they stay for too long.

In Amity Park, this usually isn't too much of a problem. Sure most Ghosts can't stay for a week without a Host, but the ambient Ecto-Levels in Amity Park are enough that they can stay for a few days or so at a time with little worry.

This changes however, during Reign Storm.

When Pariah Dark awakens, Tens of Thousands of Ghosts use the Fenton Portal to escape the Rule of Pariah Dark, running away into the Human Realm.

If Amity Park had stayed where it was, this would have been fine. They could have stayed in the Living Realm for a few days, and maybe the Weaker ones would need to find a temporary Host, but that was fine since Amity was filled with thousands of Liminals.

Unfortunately, Pariah Darks first move was to suck Amity Park into the Ghost Zone, alongside all of the Ecto-Energy that had accumulated there.

Now left trapped in the Living Realm with no way back to the Zone, thousands of Ghosts suddenly needed Hosts or they would start dying off by the Hundreds. In a Panic, they spread out across the Planet in search of viable Hosts.

Any normal Person wouldn't do, they needed a Living Being that could actually handle their Power, or someone who matched their Soul. Preferably both. Liminals were the best since they had a durable Body and a Malleable Soul, so any Ghost could use any of them as a Host.

But outside of Amity Liminals were very rare, and finding someone who matched their Soul was time-consuming and hard. Thankfully, in recent years the population of Aliens, Metahumans, Enhanced Soldiers, and even extra durable baseline Humans had spiked across the world.

All across the planet, People suddenly found themselves stuck with a new Passenger in their Bodies.

Those new passengers thankfully weren't malicious, for the most part, but it was still annoying. The only good thing was that they now had new Powers, which neat.

They could summon the Ghosts in their Body outwardly, and then command the Ghost to use their Powers in whatever way they wanted. Only other Hosts could see another person's Ghost, which meant they looked very awkward to normal people when they fought. Generally, Hosts seemed to act more strangely after getting a Ghost, as if they lost a few of their Inhibitions.

Why did they feel the sudden need to strike a flamboyant Pose? Or over dramatically scream?

[heartorbit]

the star you've longed for

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[shinedoitsulikeabright]

If you really think about it, Tiresias suffered the most out of any other character from Epic: the musical/the Odyssey

First he was forced to live as a woman for 7 years, during which he married and had children. The reason for being forcefemmed? He saw two copulating snakes and struck them, thus pissing off Hera who turned him into a woman as punishment.

Of course, this isn't so bad. Still bad luck imo. Like imagine hitting two random snakes and boom! You're a woman.

Next, he got blinded by Athena because he saw her bathing. Athena, the virgin goddess, naturally didn't like this and took away his sight. Feeling bad for cursing him, she gave him the gift of prophecy.

Another myth, however, tells a differeny story. According to it, Tiresias was called by Zeus and Hera, who were in the middle of an argument. They were trying to decide who felt more pleasure during sex: the man (Hera's claim) or the woman (Zeus's claim).

Since Tiresias had lived as both, they decided to ask him to settle the debate. Tiresias answered the woman and that, of course, made Hera mad so she blinded him. Zeus could do nothing but compensate by giving him the gift of prophecy.

He died from being impaled by Apollo's arrow. As if that wasn't enough, he couldn't catch a break even after death. Our favourite captain just had to come and pester him for more prophecies (which he didn't even follow btw so thanks for making this dead man do extra work for nothing, you royal dipshit).

[moeblob]

So does he, Gallagher.

[angelpuns]

This is what I look like waiting for Tylenol to kick on FYI

[animemenrock]

[turbo-tsundere]

Chibi Gonta for the soul <3

[entryn17]

i'm gonna be honest i think my least favorite type of post on this site is "person in the reblogs who doesn't understand the op was joking and the op then insisting they are being entirely serious just to fuck with said person" and then it gets reblogged 5000 times

[shallowseeker]

I love when Sam is dumb, Dean is lazy, Cas is mean, or Jack is ruthless. It’s like getting your favorite skittle from a bag.

[theladart]

Rapidash/Rainbow Dash ponymon fusion: Firestorm!

Inspired by @pinxpony‘s Pinkie Pie/Flaffy fusion, Flaffy Taffy (hope you don’t mind the tag :P)

Edit: Found out that the rapidash pic I got for reference is a fakemon mega evo designed by CaseyDeanFakemon on Deviantart

[writer-room]

Obsessed with Lloyd never mentioning his grandfather is the First Spinjitsu Master, apparently to the point even Arin didn't seem to know, because "eh, it never came up". Cause like, yeah, sure, my grandfather is God, what of it? Normal day for me. Shit happens. My dad is also evil, you wanna talk about that? I sure don't.

It's also funny from a character arc perspective. Here's itty bitty baby first season Lloyd, loudly proclaiming he's the son of Garmadon, and probably also making sure everyone knows he's God part 3 electric boogaloo. And then one Tomorrow's Tea and a few more years later and he's doing everything physically possible to NOT care about his heritage. In fact he'd probably rather his parentage was literally anyone else. Dude could care so less he forgets about it most of the time. King behavior.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

your fridge-build , original-red-and-purple-oufit magneto showed up in my dream yesterday and i was so unprepared it woke me up

reading this made me cackle for like a solid minute gjAELKGJAK he just wanted to say hi ....

leaving you with a fridge-magnet-sized magneto. so hopefully he can say hi again but less intimidatingly