#stubborn raccoon

[lunaetis]

@shining-gem34 replied to your post :

Dan Feng? Crosses arms and gives her The Look. Like look, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. There's one choice and only one that is correct for Eden to make.

​​─「エデン」─  " you're going to have to tell me what's on your mind, it's not like i can read the look you gave me and translate it into words, you know ? " was she being stubborn ? yes. but was she being honest ? also yes. she really couldn't tell what he wanted, though she could at least venture a guess or two that he was not happy. " there are better ways to convince someone than intimidation, though. rewards, maybe. "

[eccentricmoonlight]

So while playing Mischievous Party Time!! I realized. I hate the changing note speed in Neo Sanctuary and I avoid the song at all costs. But I LOVE it so so much in Mischievous Party Time!! it’s so silly and fun and interesting. Anyway I made this—

(All of this is ofc lovingly lighthearted. I have nothing against StarPro or fine except Yuzuru)

[bramblequeer]

It’s really frustrating that my grandmother is trying to guilt me into shaving my slight moustache for the family reunion, considering I am already wearing a dress and heels. What more does she want? I’m not a doll to be dressed up and paraded around. Yes I bought that dress and those heels because I like them, but I want to wear them the way a drag queen does. As performance, as a show, not because it’s expected of me.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Master list 2

Gravity Falls (more to add soon)

Reader trying to confess to Ford w/ Mabel’s help - part two

Kissing Ford/ Stanley

Stan/ford reaction to reader smoking weed as a form of destress

Reader and Ford laying in bed together (not sexual)

Being Ford’s controversially younger s/o in their 20’s

Demon reader who use to work for bill becomes good

Ford gets sick/injured and is stubborn about it

Stealing mullet!stan’s jacket and Ford’s trench coat

Ford w/ a partner who acts like they’re still crushing on him no matter what he does

Bill chiper sick fic

Stan/Ford and why they love to call you their wife/husband/ spouse

Ford w/ a crush who’s obsessed with his hands

Bill cipher’s current obsession being in a love triangle with Ford and Stanley

Reader who’s sick/ injured w/ Ford

Bill cipher w/ a kaidou! Reader

Stanley’s s/o gets stuck in the portal instead of Ford - part two where reader comes home

Demon reader who visits bill in theraprism

Ford kissing reader after coming back from the portal

More kissing Ford cuz I wanna kiss that senior citizen

Reader goes into the portal with Ford

Fellas grab your ladies, if your lady fine trend w/ Ford by Mabel

Teaching Ford to kiss/ being his first kiss drab

God! Reader who’s seen timelines where the kids die, and protects them, only to break down in front of Ford and Stan about it

Ford comes back, only to be told that reader is dead

Ford missing his s/o while in the multiverse

They’re my boyfriend/ husband actually w/ Ford/ Stan

Bill/ Stanford with a clumsy s/o

Reader comforting bill

Reader being Ford’s assistant and being fake married to Stanley, only to find out that they actually like him romantically - part two

Reader being Stan and Ford’s childhood friend who they fall for when older

Reader being Ford’s s/o and their relationship with Stan, dipper and Mabel

Domestic Ford hdc

Stan/ Ford being told by bill that reader dies in every universe including theirs

Platonic Stan and Reader

Ford in dimension 52 missing reader

‘What are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?’ W/ Stan/ Ford

Being sort of friends w: bill cipher

Bill doing readers makeup

Baby bill

Dad! Stanford

Stanford and reader taking a nap

Dad! Stanley

Ford drab

Bill and reader and then destroying the portal

Bill getting princess treatment

Bill bakes w/ reader

Ford protecting reader, even if it means pushing them away and cutting contact due to threats from bill about harming them while possessing him

Ford fluff drab

Ford reacting to reader wearing his turtleneck for the first time (aka me going feral over a senior citizen by insinuating that reader isn’t wearing anything underneath the turtleneck cuz I wish it was me)

Controversial young s/o things w/Ford and Stanley

Reader reacting to Stanley loosing his memories after Weirdmagedon

Stanley looses his spouse again

Rainy day cuddles w/ Ford/Stanley

Stan and Ford being saved by reader

The pines family meeting reader who pops out of a portal in the middle of their living room.

Ford drop kicks a gnome (not clickbait)

Reader possessed by bill pushed Ford into the portal, but is told by Ford to get out of his house upon his return.

Part two; bill tells all

Ghost! Reader

Reader who knows the equation offers themselves to Bill, asking him to leave the twins and people of gravity falls alone while condemning Stan and Ford to whatever punishment he could think of

Alternative: reader joins Bill after reader is kicked out of the shack by Ford

Reader erases their memory of the pines family after getting kicked out/ Weirdmagedon and can’t recall their memories because they didn’t have enough to help jog them

Reader tells Stan that without them, he’d be a lonely old man

Stan and reader try to domesticate a raccoon and call him bandit

Ghost reader during Halloween

Stanford tried to read but reader is feeling affectionate

Percy Jackson

Luke fluff

Percy and reader who is the child of the god of dreams

Luke and reader sneaking out of the cabins to cuddle and kiss

Percy being a bro

Luke Drabble

It’s rotten work/ not to me w/ Luke

DC (Batfam) (more to add soon)

Jason/ dick with a reader who distance themselves from them upon realising they have feelings due to abandonment issues

Batfam w/ reader who hides their hurt from them

Damian fluff

Jason wanting his s/o’s attention cuz they’re being less affectionate as of late

Batboys forgetting to kiss their s/o after patrol

Ignoring batboys as a prank

‘My boyfriend doesn’t love me anymore’ w/ Jason and dick

Jason/ dick chilling with their s/o, only for their brothers to come in and see them for the first time

Batboys w/ shy s/o trying to hold their hand first but getting flustered

Batboys reaction to their s/o saying their full name

Dick/ Jason getting jealous over shirtless Hugh jackman scene in dp & wolverine

Jason gets stuffed animals as gifts from his s/o

Dick and Jason’s crush telling them that they know their vigilantes when healing their wounds

Batboys reacting to reader being in hospital

Jason w/ an author! S/o

Jason meeting his s/o who died with him again after so long

Jason/ dick reaction to their crush asking them while they’re in vigilante form if they’ve seen them (Jason/dick) and being worried.

Dick called reader a good girl (fem reader coded)

Another Damian scenario

Damian meeting his brothers s/o

Jason w/ a s/o who loves to compliment him, even in their sleep

Jason head cannons

Bat fam nightmare comfort

Batfam w/ a reader who zones out but doesn’t tell them why they’re smiling and or frowning

Batfam w/ a reader who loves to give them spontaneous hugs

Dick being dramatic cuz reader called him rich and not dick or Dickie bird or boy wonder

[hcneymooners]

⋆ heart on a sleeve.

(lowkey toxic!)bsf!vi x bsf!reader. men & minors dni.

pt. i ( you are here. ) / pt. ii.

synopsis: vi is handling her breakup badly, but you refuse to give up on her. it's part of the deal when you're irrevocably in love with your best friend.

cw: vi exhibits toxic behavior but is more complex than toxic, this part is sfw but part ii is going to be explicit, pit fighter!vi, implied alcoholism, emotional hurt/comfort, second chances, implied friend breakups, not actually unrequited love, vi is trying her best and so are you, blk-coded reader but all are welcome to read.

notes: inspired by the beautiful @avonnimimi. adore her. also the raccoon thing actually happened to me, lol. love you.

you've always loved winter in the city. winter is your season. the world grows unnaturally quiet underneath the suffocation of snowfall; you can finally hear yourself think. the heat is cranked up as high as it can go without bothering you and you sit on the floor, hips groaning as you stretch them out.

tonight, the snow falls soft and quiet, less fervent than the day before, catching in the glow of streetlights. you’re in a navy blue sleep set, your silk shorts clinging to your cocoa-buttered thighs. the fabric is covered with detailed illustrations of eopards, their mouths open and demanding. despite it not being your preference, you have your best friend on the phone as you contort yourself into different shapes. she keeps shooting you looks as your joints pop, your bones waking up from their slumber.

“baby, i don’t think you’re supposed to be sounding like this at twenty-one.”

“don’t worry about it, lia. that’s why we stretch.”

dalia rolls her eyes from where she looms across the screen, her skin dark and gleaming post-shower. 

eventually, you settle, loose and limber, and begin scrolling through old photos on your phone. your gold rings catch the light as you swipe past memories – vi teaching you to throw a proper punch, both of you sprawled on the quad during finals week, the night she got that bartending job. you’d celebrated with cheap champagne and a close call (read: climbed right into her lap and almost kissed her.)

your shared apartment feels hollow tonight. vi's combat boots aren’t kicked off by the door, her jacket isn’t thrown over the kitchen chair. her location is turned off and it eats at your stomach, but you try to self-soothe.

traces of her are everywhere – the worn boxing gloves hanging by the entry, the pile of mechanics textbooks on the coffee table, the polaroids magnetted to the fridge. your favorite was from last summer: vi half-asleep on the couch, head in your lap, while you read your sociology textbook. 

dalia took that one, said something about capturing moments that matter.

you remember the night vi moved in, both of you drunk on cheap wine and possibility, sprawled on the empty living room floor.

"mama," she'd said, grinning up at the ceiling, "we're gonna make this place ours." and you did – vi's fight posters next to your framed family photos, her protein shakes beside your san pellegrino, your shared vinyl collection taking over the windowsill.

it was your most desired dream: to have a beautiful life. with her, if you could have everything you truly wanted.

your mom's daily check-in text slides gently over your screen: how's my baby doing? vi still being stubborn?

before you can reply, your phone buzzes with another call.

( three months ago )

vi's sitting on your bathroom floor, knuckles bloody from another underground fight. she's been taking more of those since caitlyn left, each one more reckless than the last. you don't say anything, just kneel beside her with the first aid kit you've kept stocked since freshman year.

"you don't have to keep doing this," she mumbles as you clean her wounds.

"i know." you focus on wrapping her hand, trying not to let your fingers shake. "i want to."

she watches you work, something unreadable on her face. "why?"

you don't answer at first. just keep wrapping, gentle as you can. some questions are too dangerous to answer honestly. still, you try.

“you’re never going to stop doing this to yourself,” you say finally. “this ache, this punishment—it’s going to live inside you for a while.”

you can feel her looking at you, blue eyes following the bend of your neck as you slick the splits of her skin with paste. her gaze is heavy. you refuse to look up.

“when i was younger, i found a racoon in my backyard. it was so sick, but i was so little and tried to save it. i called animal control, because i didn’t understand how they “handled” situations.” you flip her hand over, thumb grazing her palm. “i asked them to come pick it up, to rehabilitate it. he told me to look away, but i still held out hope. he shot it right in front of me. i cried, i think. still think about it.”

you’re still holding her hand, and she takes over the grip. she exerts pressure and tilts your chin up, bringing you back to her. your eyes are wide and luminous, two planets.

“when i see you, it’s like that,” you tell her. “except i know better now. i take care of it, of you, myself. it makes me feel like there’s a better chance at survival.”

you shuffle onto your knees, body tensing as you push yourself up. vi catches you by the ankle, tugs until you stumble against her bandaged chest. she presses a weak kiss to your calf. 

“thank you.”

“mmhmm,” is all you answer, thumbing at her brow before leaving. 

(one month ago)

the party's too loud, too crowded. bass thrums through the floor like a second heartbeat. you're watching vi across the room, watching her drink too much, watching her laugh too sharp when someone mentions caitlyn's name.

when she starts another fight – with who? does it even matter anymore? – and ends it with kissing someone else, something in you breaks. you slip away to the bathroom, sink to the floor in your party dress, press your hands against cool tile. you hate crying. hates how it makes you feel exposed, vulnerable. but the tears come anyway.

the door opens. dalia's there, sinking down beside you. she doesn't say anything, just pulls you close, lets you hide your face in her shoulder.

"baby girl," she whispers, but you cut her off.

“lia, later. please,” you rasp.

the bass keeps thumping outside. you can’t hear your heart, but you can feel it. you’re always fucking feeling it. you keep crying.

( now )

for years to come, you will always remember this moment. how you paused before hanging up on dalia and picking up for vi.

“violet?” your voice is low, tired.

across the line, somewhere cold and devoid of you, vi shivers. she loves when you say her full name, wants to eat you whole when you let it rasp across your tongue and teeth until it falls free.

“hey, angel. look, i swear m'fine to drive," she slurs before you can continue asking after her. your heart drops. “i just wanted to tell you ‘m on my way home.”

"violet, where are you?" you're already grabbing your keys, oversized park half-falling off of you.

"just... just leaving jinx's. cait was there with her new fucking—“ her voice cracks. "doesn't matter. i got this."

"stay put. i'm coming to get you."

“what? no—“ there’s a sound suspiciously like her dropping her keys. “fuck, ‘m dizzy.”

“violet,” you’re beginning to panic, your voice rising. “vi, listen to me. are you in the car?”

the door slams across the line. you have your answer.

“vi, please listen to me. i’m coming, okay? i’ll be right there. please don’t start the fucking car.” nothing. “violet! i know you can fucking hear me.”

it’s about five minutes of silence, before she speaks again. you’re borderline hyperventilating, hands shaking as you try to locate jinx’s number to get her to go outside and stop her sister.

"nah, you don't gotta—" 

the sound of screeching metal cuts her off. then it’s dead air. you're running to your car before the call ends.

ᥫ᭡.

the accident scene is a nightmare made real. you find her car wrapped around a lamppost, driver's side crumpled like paper. your heart nearly stops until you see her stumbling away from the wreck, that familiar shock of pink hair catching the streetlight. she's swaying dangerously on the icy sidewalk. your hands shake as you guide her into your passenger seat, trying not to think about how close—

she reeks of whiskey and wears that same leather jacket she's had since her fighting days. The one with the worn elbows and faded patches. the one you helped pick out years ago, before university, before caitlyn, before everything got so complicated.

"you should've minded your own business," vi mutters, breaking the tense silence. her words have edges, sharp ones meant to cut.

you grip the wheel tighter. "you could have died tonight."

"yeah? maybe that would've been better than—" she cuts herself off, but you both know what she means. better than feeling like this. better than watching caitlyn walk away.

"don't." your voice cracks. "don't you dare. what the actual fuck is wrong with you, violet? why do you say shit like that? you have to stop.”

vi turns to you, eyes blazing with that familiar fight-night fury. "or what? you'll lecture me again? tell me how i'm throwing my life away? save it. i don't need another person telling me how to live my life."

the car comes to a stop at a red light. your layered necklaces catch the glow, throwing golden shadows across the dashboard.

"you think this is about lectures?" the words come out quieter than you meant them to. "vi, i found you in a crashed car. do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"oh, here we go. make it all about you, why don't—"

"yes! for once, let me make it about how i feel!" your voice rises, surprising both of you. you never yell. never let the mask slip. but tonight is different. tonight you almost lost her. "because i love you too much to watch you destroy yourself!"

“you don’t even fucking know me, [name].”

you can feel the heat rising. your throat is growing tight, and you know how this will end. 

“we’re best friends, vi.”

her eyes flicker over the side of your face, and you’re just such an easy target and her mouth is opening and—

“i’m only yours.”

the light turns green. neither of you moves. no one’s behind you, both on the road and in real life.

“you,” you whisper, “are so fucking mean to me sometimes.”

embarrassment rushes through you. your face feels hot, and the ball in your throat is so large you’re struggling to breathe. you’re going to cry. maybe she can tell, because she lurches upward and jerks toward you. you jerk back, staring a hole through your windshield.

“[name]—“

you run the red light.

ᥫ᭡.

a week later, dalia corners vi outside the campus coffee shop. you're not there to see it, but the story spreads fast. the city feeds on scandal and t thrives on the misguided.

"you know what?" dalia gets right in vi's face, fury radiating off her small frame. she looks like a wind-up doll, braids freshly done and her hands balled into fists. “i’m sick of watching you treat her like this. she's been there for every fight, every breakdown, every time you needed someone. and what does she get? you taking her for granted, acting like she's disposable."

vi's jaw tightens. "you don't know what you're talking about."

dalia is yelling now, drawing attention. vi’s pretty sure jinx is observing, bright blue teetering in her peripheral vision. her sister had ripped her a new one after receiving your belated messages.

"don't i? because while you're out here playing self-destruct, she's at home crying over you. she'll never say anything because that's just who she is – she loves too damn much and asks for too damn little. she ain’t one of those weak-ass little bitches you keep messing with, but she was never good at establishing boundaries with you. i don’t know what the fuck she's on, but i'm off it. i'll say it."

something in vi's expression shifts, breaks open.

"she... she cries over me?"

"god, you're dense," dalia spits. "she's been in love with you since sophomore year."

vi stumbles into your empty apartment at 1 am—early for her—, still reeling from dalia's words.

“hey, angel?” she calls out, more habit than hope. only ghosts answer.

she finds your room too neat, closet half-empty. your parka's gone. your heavy jewelry box has left a perfect dust-free silhouette on the top of your vanity. she rummages through your desk and finds your monogrammed passport holder gone. she sinks onto your bed, head in her hands.

her phone's in her hand before she realizes, your number dialing. voicemail. again.

“[name], i... i fucked up. i know i fucked up. i’m sorry. please... please pick up. please." her voice breaks. “please, mama.”

seventeen calls. seventeen voicemails. silence.

finally, desperate, she calls dalia.

“look,” she begs, voice raw. "i need to fix this."

dalia's quiet for a long moment. "you're lucky i love that girl so much," she says finally. “she’s going to see her parents. her flight leaves at 4. terminal c. don't fuck this up again."

ᥫ᭡.

vi misses the flight.

ᥫ᭡.

your parents' house hasn't changed. same bright warm kitchen, same family photos lining the walls, same smell of your mom's cooking. it’s been two weeks post-fight. you’re recentering, need space to breathe, to remember who you are without vi's gravity pulling at you.

your dad keeps giving you those knowing looks over breakfast. you’re his daughter emotionally, your mom’s physically. they always joke that your mama said copy-paste, that you stole her entire face.

"sometimes," your dad says one night, his voice carefully light, "loving someone means letting them figure things out on their own."

you re-adjust one of your rings, a nervous habit. it was a gift from vi—two angel wings set on a thin diamond-speckled bar spread across two of your fingers. she’d fought for it. you were pissed. you never took it off, even though you rarely mixed metals.

“mmm. yeah, i know, daddy."

your dad finds you again in the kitchen at midnight, making tea you won't drink. you look so small in your grief, eyes blinking owlishly at the draft of your introduction to ethics paper. you’re wearing your glasses, the frames thick, and he smiles at the sight. you only used them when your eyes became too dry for contacts. 

"you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head, then nod, then laugh wetly. your screen blurs into a smear of white and blue. 

“i don't know how to stop loving her, daddy." your head drops. “why is this shit always happening to me?”

he pulls you close, kisses your forehead like when you were small. he chooses to let the language slide this one time.

"maybe you're not supposed to, baby. maybe it's not about stopping."

“i know,” you sniff, wiping your face. “i just wish i could pause it when things get bad, take a minute.”

“and that’s fair, baby. nothing wrong with that.”

“love is hard, baby girl.” your head whips up, finds your mother sitting in front of your computer. “you don’t have to pretend otherwise. no one here is going to shame you.”

your heart quakes with so much love that you start blubbering again. your parents only smile, pressing twin kisses to your oil-wet scalp. 

“i’ll finish the draft for you, honey. get some sleep,” your mom says and you try to protest, only to get served with her “keep talking” look.

“‘kay,” you tell her. “thank you.”“mmhmm,” she tugs you into another hug. “finish your tea, baby.”

ᥫ᭡.

at the airport, you're going through security when your phone buzzes again. this time it's dalia.

d. <3: girl, you're not gonna believe this.

you hear her before you see her. vi's voice cuts through the airport chaos: "[name!] wait!"

you turn, lower the volume on your playlist. she's there, pink hair wild, still wearing her leather jacket despite the cold. she's holding a ticket.

“i missed the first flight, so i was gonna go to your parents. i couldn’t get a plane out ’til yesterday but then,” she says, breathless. "dalia told me when you were leaving. i... i couldn't let you go without—" she runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. 

"i'm shit at this. but mama, please listen to me. i need you to know i'm sorry. not just for that night. for everything. for not seeing what was right in front of me."

you hold yourself very still, careful. hope is a dangerous thing, and she’s starting to rumble within you.

"violet…”

her eyes light up at the sound of her full name, and she rocks onto the balls of her feet. 

"i miss you," she says simply. "and not just as my best friend.”

your eyes widen, and vi steps closer. her face is soft and open. somehow, you know she’s aware of your biggest secret. you’re gonna whip dalia’s ass.

“ i think... i think maybe i've been missing you for a long time without knowing it."

the airport bustles around you, but all you can hear is your heart beating too fast. vi takes another step, careful, like you might spook. 

you look so beautiful to her, face bare and glazed with what she knows is a mixture of skincare and vaseline to combat the dry air of the plane. you’re being swallowed by your oversized sweatsuit, the hoodie absolutely massive and bubblegum pink. she focuses on your hands, finds the ring she gifted you. you flex your fingers, and her eyes fall on the small “vi” inked between your thumb and pointer. it’s stylized to look like roman numerals but it’s her name.

yours is tatted on her too, just behind her ear.

“look, vi. i—“ your top teeth worry at your bottom lip, plush and pink like a tulip.

"i know i don't deserve another chance," she says softly. "but if you're willing to give me one i swear to god, i’ll take what i can fucking get.”

you look at her – really look at her. she's a mess, clearly hasn't slept, probably bought the first ticket she could find which meant the airlines had robbed her blind. but her eyes are clear. present. seeing you maybe for the first time.

“i think you still have some things to deal with. like cait.”

“who?” she says, and you know she’s posturing, but it makes you laugh. vi grins, pleased with herself.

“don’t piss me off, violet,” you tell her and she closes the distance, threads her hands along your hips.

your body conforms to the comfort, to the familiarity. you close your eyes, lean your forehead against her chest. she’s so thick, so broad, that she shelters you. the world is so quiet here.

"slow," you say finally. "we’re taking this slow."

her smile breaks like sunrise. "slow," she agrees. "i can do slow."

above, your gate is called over the speaker. vi adjusts your necklace, takes your suitcase and bag. her fingers linger as you transfer them to her hands, sending a pulse down to your stomach. it’ll be hard to be careful. gentle. new.

“c’mon, mama,” she murmurs.

her hand is held out. you take a minute, maybe two, but you still hold it.

bonus:

d <3: so y’all kiss yet, or what?

you: you got one more time.

© hcneymooners.

[shukraastro]

Planets, Animals and their association with your spouse

In this post I will show you a fun technique on how to find out which animals your spouse could be associated with in terms of their pets or other ways like symbolisms or nicknames they could be linked with, with certain type of animals.

Firstly, for this method we look at the 7th house in the D1 chart. We look if there are any planets located inside the 7th house. If there are any planets placed in the 7th house, those planets can tell you with what type of animals your spouse could be personally associated with, because the 7th house represents the physical being of your spouse, especially the face. Planets inside the 7th house can manifest on the appearance of the spouse and according to the animal that is represented by that planet it can give similar features in the appearance of your spouse.

Next, if no planets are placed inside the 7th house we then look at the 7th lord, the planet which rules over the 7th house will tell us with what kind of an animal they will be generally associated with, in this case this does not have to do with their appearance since that 7th lord will be placed somewhere else in the chart and leaves the 7th house empty. But it can manifest in other ways, like as a pet or their favorite animal or something they are symbolically associated with or even their nationality (as some nations have a spirit animal). We also include the Darakaraka planet into this method, we apply the same thing to the Darakaraka planet as well, just like we did with the 7th lord planet.

Lastly, what we also include are the planets which are placed with the 7th lord and the Darakaraka planet in the same house, they can also play a role (it might not be too closely linked with them but there could be some rare circumstances in which they could be related or linked with it.

Btw you can never categorize one type of animal to only one planet, there are many cases in which certain types of animals will be attributed by two or more planets.

Now to the planets and the animals...

Sun: animals which represent bravery and loyalty, which are loud and bold, have to be tamed and get lots of praises and attention and are majestic - lion, tiger, dog, wolf, peacock, eagle

Moon: animals which represent innocence, intuition, fertility, nurturing, timidness/shyness, quite and delicate animals - deer, cat, rabbit, dove, butterfly (winged animals)

Mercury: animals which are small, make too much noises (even speak), restless/move too much/can't stay still, are handy - parrot, chicken (birds in general), fish, turtle (for their size), mouse, hamster, bunny

Venus: animals which are feminine, elegant, beautiful, even seductive, which represent extravagance, and creativity, are very colorful - swan, snake, peacock, bigger and more colorful breeds of parrots/birds, butterfly, cow

Mars: animals which are fast and strong, stubborn, protective, aggressive/dangerous even, need to be disciplined and trained - dog, leopard/puma/panther/cheetah (basically all sprinting big cats), bear, wolf, horse, ram, shark

Jupiter: animals which are very big in size and represent freedom/expansion and wildlife, jungles, forrests, mountains, seas, symbolizing optimizm - horse, eagle, bear, elephant, dolphin, whale, koala, panda, raccoon, squirrel, lama

Saturn: animals which represent humilty, service, hardships, burdens (load animals), suffering, endurance and longevity - donkey, camel, ox, horse, elephant, goat, turtoise, crocodile

Rahu: animals which represent worldly desires, enchantment, ambition, obsession, attachment, illusion, exoticness - dog, snake/serpent/dragon, spider, eye catching reptiles

Ketu: animals which represent the underworld, soul realm, detachment, isolation, intuition, transformation, darkness - cat, snake/serpent/dragon, scorpion (dark colored reptiles), owl, deer, raven

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

As you can see some animals can be categorized into 2~3 planets archetypes. But these are the themes and animals for each planet. I really tried to include as many kinds of animals as I could. I personally have lots of fun looking into this method when I analyse peoples charts, because I have seen this play out with their spouses a lot. I hope this was helpful and can give you some more clues about your future spouse.

Thanks for reading. 🌺

[storiesbyrhi]

Part One: A building gets torched

Eddie Munson x Reader Series Masterlist 1710 Words

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

Warnings: canon typical violence, references to sexual assault, swearing, drug and alcohol use, sexual references, child neglect, death/grief, references to organised crime

Note: A majority of the characters from The Crow have been replaced with Stranger Things counterparts. However, a few remain in their original form (e.g. Gideon, Grange). Some major characters have been written out, as they don’t work within the context of this story (e.g. Myca – who is one of my favourite characters). I have taken material, including direct quotes, from the film and comics/graphic novel.

After Sunset, October 30, 1994

Jim Hopper stood next to the broken window. He’d been there before. He recalled how he felt when he first saw that window. How its grand scale and clean glasswork made the rest of the ratty apartment seem worth it. The window framed the city in a way that made it seem almost beautiful. Almost.

That had been a couple months before Devil’s Night. There had been whispers that the building was going to be sold off. Hopper hoped it was true. Maybe a new developer would demolish the place. He didn’t want to think about how many ghosts haunted those walls. Between the overdoses and the organised crime related violence, a lot of trips to the morgue began there.

Unfortunately, the buyer was not the up and up real estate type. Hopper heard it was more of the top of the bad guy hierarchy type. Martin Brenner owned half the city and not by any legal or ethical means. In the police files, intel on him was filed under the codename Top Dollar, like even the cops were too scared to put their name to anything that could be used against him.

 When Hopper caught wind of that, he’d paid the apartment a visit – paid you a visit.

“You gotta cool it with this stuff,” he’d warned, gesturing to where you’d been working on a new petition for everyone to sign.

“You’ve never told me to cool it before. Never shown up at my home before,”

“Before when you were feeding the homeless? Helping little old ladies cross the road? This is different. Come on, kid. Don’t play dumb.”

You sighed, but it sounded more like a huff. It hadn’t been feeding the homeless. You’d fundraised to keep the local community kitchen from shutting its doors. And, there had never been little old ladies. Maybe little old raccoons and opossums you’d built little wooden houses for…

Hopper shifted on the spot. “Look… I know you’re tryin’ to the right thing… I know you don’t want to have to move-”

“It’s not about moving. It’s about-”

“The principle, I know,” Hopper interrupted you right back. “I know. But the guy who’s eyeing the place, you don’t wanna mess around with him.”

Even then, you knew Hopper was right. You knew what you were doing was potentially dangerous. Brenner’s name had been mentioned to you before Hopper came knocking. But you were stubborn.

“How’s he even doing this? It can’t be legal. Probably paid off Kline, right?”

Hopper cringed at the name Kline. Larry Kline was the elected official who should have been fighting for the city. Instead, he was lining his pockets with Brenner-shaped coins.

“Eddie know you’re doing this?” Hopper changed tactics. There were three giveaways that Eddie was probably on tour. The first was how quiet the apartment was. The second was the lack of guitars on the wall hooks. The third was that Gabriel, a fluffy white cat, was asleep on the couch. Gabriel only sought the company of others when Eddie wasn’t an option, even though he was technically a birthday present for you.

You bit down on your tongue. “I don’t keep secrets from Eddie,”

“Right, but… Might you have conveniently forgotten to mention who wants to buy the building? Who you’re starting a fight with?”

The conversation had ended with a vague promise that you’d maybe consider ‘cooling it.’ Hopper had left that night uneasy. He never got around to tracking a phone number for Eddie out on the road. Knowing Eddie, which he only kind of did anyway, he’d never tell you to stop doing anything. That man worshipped the ground you walked on.

Hopper stood at the broken window and held a cigarette between his teeth. He looked down to the street below, Eddie’s body being covered with a crime scene sheet while onlookers scrambled to see the carnage.

Behind him, crime scene techs and cops buzzed about the apartment. He turned to survey the scene. The photos on the wall told a story of love. His brain tried to reconcile how you looked in them, compared to how you looked lying on the apartment floor covered in blood. The paramedics were still working on stabilising you, you clinging to life by your fingernails.

Hopper gave the okay to move you while he picked up a thick piece of card off the floor. A wedding invitation for the following day – a sunset event.

“Who the fuck gets married on Halloween anyhow?” one of the cops asked, staring at the mannequin keeping your wedding dress company.

Hopper didn’t answer. He listened to their commentary.

“What’s the count so far?” a rookie questioned.

“143 fires so far… They’re slacking off from last year,”

“Three hours to go; maybe they’re just slow starters.”

Hopper followed the paramedics as they took you downstairs and out to the ambulance. Another detective was there. Detective being a very generous title, as most of the work Phil Callahan was capable of was not of the sleuthing variety.

“This the victim?” he asked.

 “No, it’s Amelia Earhart. We found her, Detective, and you missed it,” Hopper deadpanned.

Before Callahan could come up with something witty to say, Hopper was back at your side. A girl on a skateboard had appeared, pulling at your sleeve.

“Stand back, kid,” he said.

It was Max’s voice that dragged you somewhere close to Earth. “Where’s Eddie?” you croaked.

“Ah… Don’t worry about him,” Hopper told you.

“Tell him to take care of Max.”

Paramedics had you loaded up, closing the back of the ambulance. Hopper stood next to Max for a moment before putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You Max?”

“Yeah,”

“Okay, look… Your sister… She’s gonna be okay,”

“She’s not my sister. She just takes care of me… She’s my friend. Her and Eddie… You lied to her about Eddie.” Max sounded more sad than accusatory.

“I had to,”

“And you’re lying to me about her. She’s gonna die, isn’t she?”

Hopper could deal with a lot of things. A grief-stricken teenage girl was not one of them. He clasped both of her shoulders and held her, looking around the scene with a growing understanding that the misery had only just begun.  

One Year Later After Sunset, October 29, 1995

Max visited the cemetery often. She’d walk along the rows, taking one flower from each bouquet she passed. By the time she was standing in front of the matching graves, she had an offering. One white rose for Eddie, the rest for you.

Losing you and Eddie was bad, but the months since had been worse. Her mother had all but resigned from that role, spending more and more time wherever Neil and Billy Hargrove went. Max hardly saw Susan anymore. The Hargroves, and the people like them, were terrifying.

Max sat down facing the headstones. “I found another one,” she said. “It says that people used to believe that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead.”

In the weeks after that Halloween, Max obsessed over the science of death. She wanted to know how you and Eddie had felt. What would happen to your bodies, buried under all that dirt? Then, once she knew everything there was to know, she moved on to folklore. What stories had been told about dying? What existed beyond the veil?

“The thing though, is that if the person dies unfairly, if something so bad happens, then that is carried with the soul. The sadness. And the soul can’t rest.”

Max had contemplated magic. She saw a Ouija board put out by the trash cans outside her apartment building and seriously considered taking it inside. Her research had slowly veered into the direction of revenge-driven resurrection, for which many cultures had legends and fables of.

“Sometimes the crow can bring that soul back, to put the wrong things right.”  She paused, looking down and pushing the dirt around with a stick. Max shrugged to herself. “I know it’s a fairytale… But it would be nice…”

Thunder rumbled above Max. After gathering her things, she began to walk away. A crow swooped down, landing on Eddie’s headstone. She was sure it was the same one that always hung around the cemetery; she’d named him The Night Watchman.

“Keep an eye on them for me,” she told him, dropping her skateboard and riding off into the drizzling rain.

It was fear first. Terror. Darkness.

He tried to draw a breath in but it didn’t provide any relief. Something told him to get up. Get out. A voice. A voice in his head. Get up. Get out. But get up and get out of what? He thrashed but all his limbs hit solid wall.

Punching, punching, punching. When he finally broke through the coffin’s lid, his knuckles were raw and bleeding. He dug, splitting nails and swallowing dirt. He reached the surface, pulling himself from his grave.

His body couldn’t decide between curling up or being splayed out on his back. It couldn’t decide between screaming or sobbing. He was twitchy and achy. His knuckles had scabbed and scarred. He’d healed but the healing hurt.

At first, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who he was.

A crow landed on an overhead branch. It called to the man, a deep and piercing caw. It was there to guide him. It was there to bear witness. It was there to share the burden of the second life of Eddie Munson.

Eddie knew to follow the crow. He knew the crow would take him to where he wanted to go. It would take him to you.

He stumbled, pulling himself through the cemetery and out into the city. Nobody noticed him weaving through alleyways and stalking shadows. He pulled at his burial clothes, hands running over the bullet hole scars on his body.

Eddie’s bare feet walked through filthy puddles and over crumbling asphalt. He only stopped when the crow landed on a dumpster, squawking.  Something dark was sitting on top of the trash. Old worker’s boots, too small for Eddie, but he put them on anyway. He stomped onwards.

End Note:

Thank you to the love of my life @jo-harrington for brainstorming and editing help, and for general support and hype girl shit.

The process of writing this series has been a bit of an isolated one, compared to past work. So, I don't know how it will be received. I am more unsure about it than I have been about my other stuff too. Any feedback would be immensely appreciated.

Happy New Year, xo Rhi

Fic Taglist (open): @mrsjellymunson @princesssunderworld @qweencrimson @b-irock @writinginthetwilight @bornslippys @ali-r3n @lexr86

All Eddie Taglist (open):solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner @em0220

[suckerforcate]

Larissa Weems

My Cure ♡♧

No Dating-Rule ♡♧

New Year ♡♧

Headcanons pregnant Reader♡

Nervous Mess ♡

Promise me ◇

Dance Floor (☆)

Vanilla Latte ♡

Insecurities ♡☆

Good girl ☆

Darling? ♡♧

Stubbornness ◇♧♡

Raccoon ♡

You're safe now ♧♡

Airhead / Rusty (xdaughter) ♡

I'll take care of you ♡

Punishment ☆

Snow Storm

College Sweetheart ♡

My beautiful Angel ♡☆

Old habits die hard ♧

What'd you take? ♧

You're not a burden (xdaughter) ♡

I'm leaving ♧◇

Gym Clothes ♡

Crush ♡

You are worth it ◇♡

Domestic Fluff Headcanons ♡

Numbness ♧

Little Brat ☆

One Bed ☆

Poe Cup ♡

Ride or Die ♡

Beg ☆

Professor Weems (☆)

Bad Girl ♡

Polaroid

Bottled up ◇♧

She's not there ♧♡

[elsaqueenofstress]

thinking about how quill used music as his only reminder of his mother, to the point that he would risk his own life to save it and keep part of her alive, and how we're introduced to him as the one who dances while everyone around him rolls their eyes, and how he raises baby groot to be the first of the team to dance as openly and joyfully as him, and how this groot is the first one to dance during the last scene, and how rocket – who hums tunelessly while he works until he's building stereos to play tunes while fighting until his favorite song is "come and get your love" – joins him without any self-consciousness, and how quill left rocket his zune and team leadership but the first gift he ever gave him was a name for what he was: raccoon, and how drax overcomes his stubborn adherence to never dancing because what matters more to him than being a stoic destroyer is being a father, who makes the hundreds of children that look up to him laugh with delight, and who gets to watch mantis (whose innocence reminded him of his daughter) set off into the world with her own purpose the way his own child never got to, and how nebula dances along with them, no longer holding herself to the second-best status that thanos forced on her, instead at home as a leader who can fight with her family without having to compete with them, and how she stills talks to gamora, who is able to accept that she once meant the world to the guardians, once spoke their language and joined in their hugs and was part of their fun, but that she doesn't owe it to them to join in the dance and be that same person, and returns to the adoptive family that she feels at home with, and the lyric "leave all your love and your longing behind / you can't carry it with you if you want to survive," and how in order to go forward the guardians can't all stay together, but how that doesn't mean they aren't still a team and a family because how do you truly leave the people who have dragged you, doubting and kicking and screaming, toward comfort and security and happiness? for the hottest, slowest, laziest days to end, the ones where you lost best friends and spouses and children and siblings and years of your life and memories with someone, the ones where you run from your past and pretend you were never in pain, never loved anyone, you have to let that hope catch up with you (“happiness hit her / like a bullet in the back”). anyway i think this was a pretty good series like this post if you also had a laugh or two over cosmo the space dog's telekinetic hijinks!!

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

Wayne comes home one day to Eddie behaving unusually - loudly narrating everything every time he leaves his room, playing his music quieter than usual but making abrupt loud noises when he’s in his room, checking on Wayne every ten minutes or so to make sure he’s enjoying his shows and asking if he wants tea, and generally bearing his biggest, wettest puppy dog eyes.

Now Wayne’s done this song and dance a few times, so after a few hours he gets up and makes his way to his nephew’s door, takes a moment to stop and listen-

And sure enough, he can hear the hushed whispers and giggles. Heaving a sigh, Wayne raps his knuckles against the flimsy wood. It’s immediately met with a flurry of scrambling from the other side.

To Eddie’s credit, it doesn’t even take until Wayne’s count of 10 before the door swings open, revealing his very ruffled nephew sporting a sunny grin and doing his best to look like he’s not taking up the entirety of the doorway on purpose.

“Alright, what’re you hidin’ in here this time?” Wayne asks, glancing at the bed. It’s a favourite hiding place of Eddie’s - where he’d hidden the stray cat, the raccoon, and any number of other strays he’s picked up.

“Hiding? I -uh - what are you talking about?” Eddie says it smoothly enough, but he’s eyes dart to the left briefly before he catches himself and looks back at Wayne, pulling his hair in front of his face in a display of nerves. Wayne glances over. The closet this time then.

“I ain’t born yesterday kiddo,” he says, shaking his head. “Now why don’t you quit bullshittin’ and open up that there door”

Eddie’s gaze follows his gesture to the closet, and then he turns back to Wayne, giving an indignant huff and puffing up like he’s gearing for a fight.

Wayne meets his gaze with an even one of his own and, after a moment, Eddie deflates. "Fine," he huffs and makes his way to the closet, shooting Wayne betrayed wounded-bird looks over his shoulder. Wayne just crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

He's prepared for a lot of things, but what he's not expecting is for Eddie to swing the cupboard door open to reveal some fancy-looking lad, looking sheepish as all get out.

"Ed-" he says, slightly lost for words. Eddie and closet-boy exchange a glance, and Wayne feels shock go through him as he suddenly places that face. "Is that... is that the Harrington boy?"

Immediately, a guilty look crosses Eddie's face and Wayne groans. "Jesus H. Christ," he groans, putting his hand over his face.

When he looks up again, Eddie is giving him that wide-eyed pleading face of his that always comes with the strays. "Eddie, he ain't some stray you can just take in!" He protests.

Eddies face hardens just a little with that stubbornness he got from his mother. "C'mon Uncle Wayne. His parents are terrible when they even bother to be around!” he argues. "And I mean it’s probably for the best that they’re not there because they’re the worst kind of people but it's almost Christmas and he can’t just be there alone on Christmas! Did you raise me like that Wayne? Did you?"

Harrington seems to get past his surprise at Eddie’s sudden rant and he frowns, opens his mouth to protest. Eddie, apparently sensing this, claps a hand over his mouth and turns to Wayne , his righteous indignation switching right back to his best puppy-dog eyes cranked to full effect at Wayne.

And Wayne... well, he's never been able to say no to any of the strays Eddie's brought home yet.

[moonstruckme]

hi! i love ur work! i was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders or just remus taking care of r when they're stressed abt school. like maybe reader doesn't sleep bc they're studying and they're just trying to get r to sleep or to take a rest but they're stubborn like "i have to learn this, i'll go to sleep as soon as i finish studying"

Thanks so much sweetheart!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 623 words

When Remus wakes in the early hours of the morning, you’re still not in bed. He forces himself up, padding down the hall to where a light is still on over the kitchen table.

You’re lying there like a puppet that’s had its strings cut, one hand still on the trackpad of your laptop and a tiny puddle of drool spreading on the table from where your face rests against the wood. 

You look like you’re deep in slumber, but as soon as Remus’s fingertips brush your shoulder you jolt awake. 

“I’m up,” you say, seemingly to yourself or perhaps some omniscient judge of your work ethic. 

Remus flattens his palm on your upper back. He thinks he can actually feel the strained muscles around your neck from being slumped over the way you had. “This isn’t a very comfortable place to doze off, dove.” 

“I just—” You blink forcefully, giving your head a little shake as if to reinvigorate yourself. It doesn’t look like it makes your eyelids weigh any less. “Just took a power nap. I’m good now.” 

Remus takes your hand, moving it out of the way so he can close your laptop. You seem hardly able to track his movements, eyebrows pinching when you hear the click of it shutting. 

“It’s late,” he says. “Time for bed.” 

“Not yet.” You’re shaking your head again. “I will soon, I just have to finish studying first.” 

“You’ve studied all you can.” Remus tugs your hand gently, trying to encourage you to your feet. “You won’t be able to retain anything more when you’re this tired.” 

You stay stubbornly in your chair. “I just need some more coffee.” 

“The only thing you need right now,” he says firmly, pulling you up and away from the kitchen table, “is your pillow.” 

He starts leading you toward the bedroom, and you’re not resisting him anymore but Remus can see the uncertainty on your face. You’ve been worrying about this test for weeks; Remus doubts you’ll ever feel like you’ve studied enough for it, but he feels bad worsening your nerves by making you stop. 

“Darling, you’ve got circles under your eyes so dark I could mistake you for a raccoon,” he says softly, smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand. “You’ll do much better on your exam if you’re well rested, trust me.” 

You sigh, too exhausted even for anxiety, and lean your head on his shoulder. “Okay,” you say dully. “Thanks, Rem.” 

He kisses your head in response. It’s lucky that you’d changed into your pajamas before beginning your study session, because all you have to do is get right into bed. You set your phone on your nightstand, and Remus reaches across you to take it. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask, voice already soft and slightly slurred as you let your head sink into your pillow. 

Remus taps at your screen, squinting in the blue light. “Shh, go to sleep.” 

“Remus.” You sound more alert, and he holds up a hand to fend you off as you reach for the device. “Stop it.” 

“No, I’m turning off your alarms so you can get some real rest.” You whine as he finishes, shutting your phone off with a click and setting it on his nightstand where you can’t tamper with it. “No more power naps, dove. I won’t let you miss your class, alright? Go to sleep.” 

You make a huffing sound, but fatigue softens it into a sigh. “Fine.” You shuffle closer to him under the covers, seeking his warmth. “G’night.” 

Remus wraps a hand around your middle, tugging you the rest of the way to him and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[spiderrmax]

raccoon & friends x sidekick reader

synopsis: headcanons about how i imagine the raccoon & friends would react to having a sidekick! author's note: freedom pals will eventually get their own post :) also, like all my other works this isn't proof read if you see any mistakes no you didn't.

The Raccoon

The way you become his sidekick is probably out of your hands. Since he sees himself as the leader and you as the new kid (which, to be fair, you are), he feels like he has to take you under his wing.

He acts as if it’s a chore, but it is mostly a front. He’s excited to train you, and he genuinely cares about your powers.

Following the events of the game, The Raccoon shows an obvious soft spot for the new kid, and this amplifies when he is “forced” to protect you

The Raccoon doesn’t go on a lot of solo missions that require fighting, he is mostly looking for intel. You are mostly left on guard duty while he steals whatever he was looking for.

He doesn’t like telling you things, but he always caves and tells you anyway. He feels like you listen to him more than the other members, and it’s very obvious he likes you the most. (Similar to how the New Kid gets new classes in the game.)

When, however, the two of you are in battle, he is extremely overprotective. It’s not like you can’t hold your own, he just hates watching you take a punch, which is inevitable. 

You know how in the games characters can be enraged by certain attacks? The Raccoon will hyper focus on the enemy who leaves you bleeding. He doesn’t stop until the enemy is down, so when making battle plans you have to count for his rage.

After battle he will complain about you getting hurt, (“Jeez, if you’re going to stay my sidekick, you need to get better in battle.”) but he won’t let you leave his base without him bandaging you or at least giving you some sort of healing item

Gets jealous if you have to go on a mission without him. Always puts up a fight, that you shouldn’t be without him. Will threaten the superhero you are pairing with for the mission, making them promise to keep a good watch on you. Then will make sure your next mission is with him

Human Kite

Unlike The Raccoon, Human Kite doesn’t even propose the idea of having a sidekick. It’s you who proposes the idea, admitting you think you two make a pretty good team as he is a range fighter where you tend to fight close up.

He’s so flustered that he says yes and then flies off. (He’s so used to people mocking his power/superhero identity that you admitting to admiring him was surprising.)

When Cartman finds out that you asked specifically for Human Kite he tries to persuade you to join him instead; you decline, and Human Kite can’t help but smile at your dedication to being with him.

He takes the role of mentor so seriously. When on missions, you are always in Human Kite’s field of sight. He is always prepared to fly off if the fight is too large for the both of you, but you are too stubborn and will fight anyone who plans to attack.

Constantly is having to heal you on the field. He knows that you aren’t going to die from a few hits, but the guilt of your injuries is heavier now that you are under his protection.

Although, he does agree you two make a good team. You do most of the damage due to the close combat, which allows for Kyle to keep you standing with his healing powers.

He isn’t as dramatic about attacking the enemies that hit you as Cartman is, but will shoot his laser eyes at them at the next opportunity. 

Human Kite is also great for morale. He constantly is motivating you on the battlefield, supporting you as you attack, with small words of encouragement. 

Doesn’t mind if you have to go on missions without him, with your guys’ different skill set and all, but worries so much. Will meet you outside the base to check for any major injuries when you return, scolding you for being so reckless as he wasn’t there to take care of you. 

The Flash

The Flash, similar to Human Kite, has never really desired a sidekick. He always works alone, due to others tending to slow him down. He only really asks for help when it’s dire.

Presuming you are a speedster class hero, he is down to have you on his team! His missions are gaining intel, similar to Cartman’s, and he appreciates sending you on smaller quests that he knows you can tackle due to your similar powers.

Not to say, he wouldn’t accept you if you had selected another class, but there are some downfalls for his main missions. The two of you are a killer duo on the field though, balancing each other's strength and weaknesses 

The Flash always double checks areas before you go in because he knows he can go undetected

After you guys have been working together, anytime he goes on a solo mission he is very aware of how lonely it is. Will go and crack a joke, and only then remembers you aren't there. He gets solo missions done faster, but that doesn't mean he enjoys them

Will race you around for fun! Loves showing off his speed (especially if you aren't a speedster). 

When you're injured and he's forced to carry you back, he speeds up; adrenaline rushing. He hates seeing you injured, and he most likely doesn't carry healing items due to them slowing him down. 

The biggest perk of being his side kick is you are not bound by the limits of the Fastpass. He will take you anywhere (if he isn't busy). The Raccoon complained about this once, but The Flash did not care enough to stop the special treatment. 

Super Craig

Considering he is a brutalist, he'd benefit most from a sidekick who isn't in that class.

However! He did not want a sidekick at first. Unlike Human Kite and The Flash, he saw it as a waste of time. He despised working with people, and would flip the Raccoon off when he tried partnering him up. (Of course, he works with the other heroes. It is also begrudgingly)

So, the first time you ask, he says no. He’s blunt, and doesn’t try to humor you. He has no reason to think you following him around would benefit him in the slightest.

It’s not until he’s in true battle with you – not a small squabble with criminals easily defeated – does he realize how beneficial it is to have you. Where he is often unprepared, you carry items that change the course of the battle, and you willingly share them with him too! You shoot from afar while he’s close-up, and it’s the first time he was thankful someone was there in battle with him.

He has to suck up his pride to reapproach you with the offer, but luckily for him, you don’t torment him with how his backtracking on what he previous said.

He is very silent when you are working together. If you come up with a plan he will follow it, and may even help modify it so it works more efficiently, but he is very quiet on missions. This helps them run smoother; however, after, he is willing to entertain any questions or small talk you have. It may be short responses, but he does enjoy how you fill the once empty night.

Super Craig carried healing items before, due to his close combat nature. However, with working with you, he carries even more. Or, he’ll give you some before you leave on missions so he isn’t weighed down by them. Either way, your health comes before his, and he would not hesitate to give you aid even if he also requires bandaging. 

The Raccoon hates how he has a sidekick. Believes that Craig is the lamest superhero due to his lack of care in concealing his identity. Craig just flips him off anytime he complains, saying that it’s not his fault you didn’t want to work with him.

Mosquito

Mosquito, like the Raccoon, approaches you about it first!

The two of you have been in battle before – especially due to his kryptonite. Despite being charmed and fighting poorly, he can recognize your strength. You have nothing to lose when you are approached with this offer, so luckily for his pride, you say yes.

Despite how he is meant to be making most of the decisions, as comes with the Superhero title, he is always looking for your guidance.

He never makes a choice unless he has thought it out with you. A plan will not be enacted unless he has run it by you and you have done all of the changes you think are necessary.

He also gets extremely nervous when you become injured. He isn’t the strongest hero, and often feels like your sidekick, so seeing you bleeding or limping creates a lot of panic for him.

Mosquito is prone to emotional outbursts – if a mission becomes too stressful, he’s hurt, you’re hurt, it’s late, anything can set him off, really. He needs you to be level-headed, and he would work best with someone who isn’t quick to react emotionally. New Kid in game is often practical, and a similar personality would mesh well for Mosquito.

The Raccoon often sends Mosquito on simpler missions (due to knowing how Mosquito cracks under pressure) but will send you on more complex missions. Mosquito cries so much when you are gone, nervous about what you are doing, if you’re okay. When you return home – after being gone no longer than a day, at the most – he is blubbering in your shoulder that he missed you. He’s very dramatic.

Captain Diabetes

Following along with the game, you are paired up with Captain Diabetes after he is assigned a complex mission.

This isn’t to say he is disappointed! Captain Diabetes is so excited to have you on his team, and takes pride in guiding you along the way.

He is so protective – even if you are technically stronger than he is. He won’t let you into a room without him entering it first and scouting the area out.

Is also really prepared, in comparison to the heroes who had to shift their behavior to count for you. He has snacks and drinks due to his diabetes, and has no problem sharing his extras with you if a mission drags on longer.

Tends to take control on missions, but is willing to listen if the situation isn’t dire. He respects you as his side kick, but he is mostly used to doing things alone. Your input is respected, he just often forgets to ask for it.

Similar to Craig, he would work best, for balance, with a blaster or speedster (or anyone with range.) He takes a lot of the hits, so strong damage from afar helps shift the course of battles.

Panics the first time you are injured and ends up forgetting to hand you a potion until you reach up to grab it from him. He gets really flustered after that, not used to being so frazzled in a mission.

Captain Diabetes is one of the better superheroes to sidekick with! He is a good balance of strong and capable but also respectful.

When your mission is done, and you aren’t technically assigned to him anymore, he approaches you and asks if you two can still work together anyways. He stutters a bit, and blushes when you nod your head ecstatically. 

Bonus! Call Girl

Call Girl isn’t seen as a superhero by most, so you have even less respect as her “sidekick”

Realistically, Call Girl doesn’t let you or others call you by that. She finds it a bit demeaning, and doesn’t keep you as her equal. You two are partners in her eyes.

The two of you don’t often do missions together either. Call Girl prefers to stay behind the scenes to pull the strings. It’s you who is often fighting when it is necessary.

However, you aren’t alone on the streets. Call Girl has you carry a phone she can track at all times, and she occasionally (when not extremely busy) will check the traffic cameras near your location.

Since she can’t always be there with you, she constantly is reminding you to take food, medicine, and water since she can’t carry extras.

Will scold you if you return to her injured, but will never not be the one to bandage your wounds. She is delicate as she covers them, and although her words might come off as mean, her eyes tell a whole different story.

When she begins gaining credibility, and is in fights with you more often, she is always there to protect you. Similar to Cartman, she gets angry with those who attack you, but it doesn’t cloud her judgement (she just hits harder, or leaks more embarrassing information.)

She has the best strategies! Always makes them with your strengths and weaknesses in mind. Occasionally, she forgets to ask for your input, mostly due to being excited or deeply invested in what she is planning. She won’t be upset if you interject with what you think, especially if it is something she may not have thought of.

If she sees you in danger on the cameras, or she is with you and a small battle becomes much larger, she will always jump in. Although she always tries to have a plan, she cannot account for anything and will be there whenever you call her.

[anonymous-dentist]

So here’s what happened:

It’s late November, and Roier has finally managed to find his husband’s location on Purgatory using his computer. He gets Pac and Mike to help him fix up the boat (that looks a lot like Cellbit’s shoes.) They adore Roier, so they don’t want him to go alone. They tell Richarlyson to stay with Bagi while they go help Roier, and, of course, Richarlyson tells Bagi, and she follows them onto the boat because she is NOT letting all of them go and get killed without her! Her brother is on that island! Richarlyson comes, too, because he’s a stubborn little fucker. And Felps is asleep on the ship already, anyway: in the ship’s walk-in freezer.

But who else is on the island? That’s right, Baghera. And so Pomme says she’s going, too. Not wanting her to go alone, and not wanting his bro to get killed, Etoiles comes along. With him comes Antoine, who’s sick of Cucurucho’s bullshit. And Pierre comes, too, because he actually liked Purgatory.

They all get to the island and pick up Cellbit and Baghera… quite literally, because they’re in disbelief that people came to save them.

Once everybody’s safe and on the ship, Pierre, who’s driving, realizes that they can just. Go now. They’re on a boat! They can just go!

So they do.

And that’s how the Brazilians (and their honorary Brazilian) and the French leave Quesadilla Island and make it home safe and sound.

(Later, there’s a prison break. The remaining islanders are running towards the beach, including Fit and Tina, and the guards are right behind them, and who shows up but Brazil’s most famous prison escape artists: Tazer e Craft and the silly little raccoon steering their boat.)

The End.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi!! could you maybe write for being the younger sibling of dipper and mabel? maybe the reader is like, 9/10 y.o i wonder what they're sibling relationships would be as well as they're relationship with stan and ford

They say a bond between twins is a bond unlike any other, but didn’t mean that dipper or Mabel cared about you any less then they did each other, you were their baby sibling and they were always going to have your back no matter what.

Dipper would be the protective older brother who’s sometimes come across as strict and would often forbid you from joining him and Mabel on monster hunts, stating that you were too young to be doing something as dangerous as hunting monsters.

You’d naturally respond with the fact that technically he and Mabel were also too young to be going head on into monster hunting too, so thereby making the statement redundant and him look like a hypocrite. To which Dipper would agree with you on but still would tell you it was too dangerous for you, he only wants to keep you safe but you had too much of a stubborn spirit to be easily swayed into staying put.

Mabel on the other hand was the chill sibling who’d let you join in the monster hunting any day because she didn’t want you feeling left out. After all it was kinda a family thing to hunt the unknown of gravity falls at this point, so she didn’t see why you shouldn’t come along with her and Dipper because as long as you had the journal with you, you were fine.

You tend to argue with dipper more than Mabel but that’s because dipper tended to take himself too seriously as your older brother while Mabel doesn’t take herself seriously enough. So whenever you and dipper did argue, Mabel tended to be the peace keeper between the two of you or use Waddles as a distraction from your arguing to come together.

Despite all this you, Dipper and Mabel were loyal and faithful to one another that there wasn’t anything any of you wouldn’t do for the other.

Dipper would give up everything to keep you and Mabel safe as he knew you and her would do the same and you did on multiple occasions, saving each other’s lives and so on. You all headed into the unknown together, never once thinking of leaving the other behind because if one of you were to go down, the other two would rush to your side and pick you back up.

You helped dipper decode stuff and listen to him drone on about Wendy from time to time while playing dungeons, dungeons and emore dungeons with him and Grunkle Ford.

You’d help Mabel bedazzle everything in sight and spend time with her, Candy and Grenda on the odd occasion of doing karaoke with her and grunkle Stan whenever the occasion calls for a bit of fun.

You were best friends with Dipper and Mabel as much as you were siblings and that was the best kind of relationship you had.

Also if Mabel had waddles then you have a pet raccoon or maybe an axolotl like Ford once did.

If dipper was similar to Ford

And if Mabel was similar to Stanley

Then you were the perfect balance of both of them. Stubborn and sometimes silly like Stan but curious and observant like Ford.

Stan and Ford could clearly see bits and pieces of themselves in you like they could with Dipper and Mabel, with the only difference being that you weren’t a twin nor had a twin but that didn’t stop either Grunkle from wanting to spend time with you.

They had to play rock, paper, scissors against one another to see who’d get to spend time with you first, only for Stan to come out the victor.

Stan would teach you how to box first and foremost so that if anyone tried anything with you, they’d get decked in the face from a vicious right hook. He just wants you to be able to protect yourself even if you were only 9/10 it didn’t make a difference to him really.

Teaches you on how to con people out of their money, lie effortlessly and make quick get aways or even how to get out of handcuffs without trying. Did he once give you a fishing hat with your name stitched on it for the soul purpose of taking you fishing with him when Dipper was with Ford and Mabel was with Candy and Grenda? Yes, he wanted something only you and him could do together that was just yours and his.

Cuz it was either that or commit arson and or property damage to other competitors.

Now with Ford he’ll probably have you be outside with him and documenting strange looking mushrooms and or flowers that you’d come across. It sounds boring but it’s quite fun if you came across fairies and the like, however the moment Ford sees that you were about to fall into a Fae trap, he’s picking you up and getting you as far away from it as he could.

Just like Stan, Ford wanted something that was just for you and him, sure he and Dipper go monster hunting, and he and Mabel dressed up as witches once, but he wanted something he could do with just you.

You’d bond over the fact that you both had/have a pet axolotl.

You and Ford probably took a break from your joint documenting to make flower crowns for one another while having a small picnic in the woods. It was peaceful and relaxing to you but Ford was keeping an eye out to make sure nothing would disturb your little picnic, while looking as menacingly as he could with a cute flower crown on his head.

If you both found a flower that was never seen before, you can bet your ass that Ford is naming it after you, no questions asked.

Stan and Ford are just as protective of you as they are the twins and they can and will step in between you and whoever is making you uncomfortable, all the while keeping you safely behind them as Stan whips out his brass knuckles and Ford shows off the gun on his hip in a silent threat.

Nobody messes with their family and they’ll make sure that message is loud and clear.

Bonus; Bill would probably try to manipulate you into thinking that neither dipper, Mabel, Stan or Ford cared about you cuz twins will look out for each other always but you were the spare sibling that gets forgotten, Insisting Stan and Ford’s brother as reason as to why but you knew your family better then a sentient one eyed triangle did and know that your family would always come through for you time and time again.

And they have and they always will no matter what.

[sapphire240400]

Oh yeah, stubborn dragon🐉x clueless stelar-raccoon ✨🦝 a classic

Original

-----

Interested in a commission?

[memorabxlia]

Wrapping Disaster ━ 기호

genre: fluff summary: “If that’s your best job at wrapping, I’d say Santa needs to hire some new elves.” warnings: est. relationship, mild teasing/banter, defintely holiday themed, slight reference to traditions pairing: nonidol!keeho x fem!reader wc: 1.1k a/n: DAY 9!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

You’ve always prided yourself on being prepared for special occasions, but somehow, this year, time slipped through your fingers. The gathering with your friends is only a few hours away, and the floor of your living room is already a war zone of wrapping paper, tape, and half-finished presents. You sit cross-legged in the middle of it all, a half-empty roll of candy cane-striped paper in your hands, and a deep sense of inadequacy growing in your chest as you stare at the unevenly folded box in front of you.

Wrapping isn’t your forte, and it shows.

You’re mid-struggle, holding down a stubborn piece of tape with one hand while trying to keep the paper from crinkling too much with the other, when you hear the front door open.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” Keeho’s familiar voice calls out from the entryway.

A small surge of relief courses through you—at least you’re not alone in this chaos anymore. You glance toward the door as he steps into the room, his black hoodie slightly dusted with snowflakes from outside, his face lighting up when he sees you. That smile of his never fails to make your heart do a little flip.

But the smile quickly turns into something else, something closer to barely-contained amusement as he takes in the scene in front of him. His dark eyes widen as he slowly sets his bag down.

“Uh…” Keeho clears his throat and gestures broadly to the mess around you. “What exactly am I walking into?”

You groan, tossing the useless piece of tape to the side. “It’s supposed to be a gift-wrapping session. It’s turned into a disaster zone.”

Keeho steps further into the room, hands on his hips, and surveys your handiwork—or lack thereof. There’s a lumpy attempt at a bow on one box, a tear down the side of another, and one particularly tragic-looking present that seems to have more tape than paper holding it together.

He snorts. “If that’s your best job at wrapping, I’d say Santa needs to hire some new elves.”

You glare at him, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Don’t mock me. I’m trying my best.”

Keeho plops down on the floor across from you, grabbing the nearest box and turning it over in his hands like it’s some sort of scientific specimen. “Trying your best? Babe, this looks like it got into a fight with a raccoon. And lost.”

“Okay, rude.” You snatch the box back, your cheeks heating. “If you’re so great at wrapping, why don’t you help?”

“I will,” he says, smirking. “But only because I can’t bear to watch you butcher any more of these poor, innocent gifts.”

“Wow, thanks for the support,” you say dryly.

Keeho grins, leaning forward to grab a fresh roll of wrapping paper. “Step aside. Watch and learn, amateur.”

You scoff but sit back, crossing your arms as he gets to work. Keeho moves with the kind of confidence that makes you both impressed and mildly annoyed. Within minutes, he’s folded the paper neatly around the gift, taped it in place, and added a ribbon for good measure.

“Ta-da,” he says, holding up the perfectly wrapped box like it’s a trophy.

“Okay, show-off,” you mutter, though you can’t help but smile. “Where did you learn to wrap like that, anyway?”

Keeho shrugs, grabbing another box. “Years of practice. My mom made me help her every Christmas when I was a kid. She said if I was going to be Santa’s helper, I had to do it right.”

You laugh, picturing a tiny Keeho diligently wrapping presents under his mom’s watchful eye. “Well, aren’t you the holiday prodigy?”

“Someone has to be,” he teases. “Clearly, it’s not you.”

You reach over and playfully smack his arm. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you wrap all of them by yourself.”

“Honestly, that might be for the best,” he says, winking at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll teach you. Consider it a bonding activity.”

“Oh, lucky me,” you say, rolling your eyes. But secretly, you’re grateful.

The two of you settle into a rhythm after that. Keeho demonstrates his wrapping technique—measuring the paper before cutting it, folding the edges just so—and you do your best to replicate it. It’s slow going at first, but with his guidance (and a lot of teasing), you start to get the hang of it.

“This isn’t so bad,” you admit after successfully wrapping your first present without any glaring mistakes.

“See?” Keeho says, flashing you a proud smile. “You’re a natural—well, sort of.”

“Don’t push it,” you warn, but you’re smiling too.

The hours pass in a blur of wrapping, chatting, and bursts of laughter. Keeho keeps up a steady stream of commentary, from critiquing your technique to sharing stories about his family’s holiday traditions. You tell him about your own memories of chaotic gift exchanges with friends and family, and he listens with genuine interest, occasionally chiming in with his own thoughts.

By the time you’re down to the last few gifts, the initial stress you felt has completely melted away. The floor is still a mess, but the pile of beautifully wrapped presents is proof of your joint effort.

“See? We make a good team,” Keeho says, leaning back on his hands and surveying your work with satisfaction.

“We do,” you agree, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Thanks for saving the day.”

“Anytime,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “But seriously, next year, let’s start earlier. My wrapping skills are great, but even I have my limits.”

You laugh, snuggling closer to him. “Deal. But you’re still doing the ribbons. I’m officially delegating that to you.”

“Fair enough,” he says with a chuckle.

The two of you sit there for a moment, surrounded by the remnants of your wrapping marathon, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. It’s not just about the gifts or the party—it’s about moments like this, where everything feels right simply because Keeho is by your side.

“By the way,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence, “you owe me a reward for all my hard work.”

“Oh, do I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

Keeho grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Cookies. Lots of cookies. And maybe a kiss, if you’re feeling generous.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Deal. But only because you’re the best gift-wrapper I know.”

“I’ll take it,” he says, wrapping an arm around you. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Merry Christmas, Keeho.”

❥﹒ p1harmony taglist: @minkilicious @amarecerasus