#sometimes the job is just Dealing With Animals

[hbyrde36]

For my beloved @penny00dreadful 💜🖤

My fandom bestie, writing soulmate, and one of my absolute favorite people in the entire world.

Happy (early) Birthday 🌈👠💖

Huge thanks to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help in making this story come to life!

WC: 3483 | Ch 1/4 | AO3 <-

Chapter 1: Over the Rainbow

To be perfectly honest, Steve always felt a little unsafe riding around in the van with Eddie. It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se, but he was definitely a distracted one, constantly needing to be reminded to keep his eyes on the road instead of the tape deck. He also tended to treat speed limits as more of a suggestion than something enforceable by law.

Tonight was no exception, the feeling of unease even worse than usual because of the storm raging outside. They shouldn’t have even been on the road in these conditions, a fact Steve had tried in vain to convince Eddie of. Hawkins was under a tornado warning for fuck’s sake! But the other boy wouldn’t hear it, their errand was too important.

They had plenty of beer, but they needed snacks. 

According to Eddie there was absolutely no way they could enjoy Friday the 13th part 27, or whatever ridiculous number sequel it was that he wanted to watch, properly without the three basic food groups: Pringles, Twizzlers, and some form of chocolate.

They were having a movie night, just him and Eddie. It was no big deal, really. Steve wasn’t nervous about it at all. They’d been getting along fine since Vecna had been defeated, better than fine! They just… hadn’t spent a lot of one-on-one time together. 

Typically, at least Robin, and some-or-all of the kids, would join them on a night like this, but the kids were set on going to the arcade, and Robin—who’d finally gotten over her fear of driving and managed to get her license on the first try—was taking Vickie out for what may or may not be a date, and borrowing Steve’s car to do it.

Therein lay the source of the problem, actually. It was usually Robin’s job to procure movie night snacks, and in her absence neither of them had thought to pick up the slack.

Which is what had led them to this moment. 

Flying down the road at 15 miles per hour over the posted speed limit, minimum, in a fucking downpour, at night. They were just asking for a deer or some shit to come bounding across the road and then—BAM!

As if on cue, just as Steve had the thought, something did indeed dart out from the side of the road to cross in front of them. Fortunately, for once, Eddie was actually paying attention. He slammed on the brakes, simultaneously jerking the wheel, allowing them to narrowly miss hitting the poor wild animal. 

Unfortunately, that combination of evasive maneuvers caused them to spin out, and sent the van careening into a ditch on the side of the road. The vehicle flipped, and Steve had just enough time to think how glad he was that they’d both been wearing their seatbelts, before something from the rear came flying up to smack him hard in the back of the head. 

-

Steve came to slowly, blinking awake, wincing as the bright light of day attacked his retinas. 

Day?

But it’d been night, hadn’t it? It was dark, and it was raining, and…

The evening before came back to him in a sudden rush. The van sliding across the road, the sickening crunch of metal as it rolled, gravity doing what gravity does. He didn't remember anything after that, but it looked like somehow they’d managed to land upright in the end at least.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck, pleasantly surprised to find no lumps, bumps, or blood, nor did he feel the telltale nausea that sometimes came with a really bad blow to the head. He wondered if Eddie– 

Oh my god, Eddie!

Steve looked to the left, finding the driver's seat empty and was instantly gripped by panic. He scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his ass in his hurry.

“Eddie?” He called out, fear churning in his gut. “Eddie?!”

He spun a circle, relief washing over him as he found the other boy only a few feet away. 

Eddie was sitting on a large tree trunk, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as he stared at the backside of the van.

“There you are! Dude, you scared the shit out of–” Steve trailed off as he rushed to Eddie’s side to see what he was looking at, and swallowed hard. It was a pair of legs in striped stockings wearing a killer pair of red heels, sticking out from under the rear tires. The shoes glittered cheerfully in the sunlight. “Oh, fuck.”

Eddie dropped his head into his hands. “I thought I swerved in time. I thought we missed it.”

“I thought it was a deer.” Steve mumbled.

Eddie cut him an annoyed glare. “Clearly not, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve said softly. He knew Eddie well enough by now to tell when he was scared—when he felt guilty, even if he was trying to act otherwise. “This isn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Tell that to the cops! They thought I was a murderer once already. It’s only been a few months where I can actually be seen in public without someone calling me a devil worshiper, or worse. Now they’ll think they have proof that I really am a killer!”

“You know Hop will go to bat for you again, and I’m here. I can be a witness.”

“That’s not all.” 

“It somehow gets worse than us accidentally killing some lady?”

Eddie sighed, raking a hand over his face as he rose from the stump. He turned, gesturing to something behind them, but Steve was still stuck on those legs. He couldn’t look away. 

“Why the hell was someone out in shoes like that in the middle of the night anyway?” Steve mused. “It was pouring.” 

“Steve, look.”

“What if we just said I was driving? Then we– “

“Steve!” Eddie gripped his upper arms, forcibly turning him around. 

Steve’s eyes went wide. They were standing right on the edge of a little town. Little, not only in the way that the town itself was small in, like, area, though it was that—about the size of one city block—but for the fact that all the colorful little buildings and bungalows were miniature. The whole thing was surrounded by gardens laden with all sorts of beautiful plants, shrubs, and trees, with flowers of every shade in bloom.

“What the fuck,” Steve breathed, taking a few tentative steps into the vivid village.

“Yeah.”

“Eddie, what the fuck?! Where are we? And why is everything in technicolor?”

Eddie stepped up from behind to clap him on the back. 

“I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, big boy.”

Steve shot him a look over his shoulder. “What was your first clue?”

“I see where Dustin gets his tone from.” Eddie mumbled.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you… do you think it’s like the Upside Down?” 

“In the sense that it’s another dimension? Maybe, but I don't get the feeling this one has any terrifying monsters. It’s too clean. It even smells nice, like roses and shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. Eddie had a point, nothing about this place screamed danger. “The Upside Down always smelled like mold and rotting flesh.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“What do we do? How do we get back?” Steve asked, not really expecting Eddie to have all the answers, but he did his best thinking out loud with company. 

“No idea.”

“Should we start walking? Maybe try and find a payphone?”

Eddie scoffed. “A payphone?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

The other boy was quiet for a moment, a rare occurrence, but eventually threw his hands up in defeat. “No, actually. So, I guess walking it is.”

Steve turned back, intending on pilfering the van for things that might be useful, like water, weapons, or one of the many lighters that littered the floor, when something in the distance caught his eye.  

“What the hell is that?” He asked aloud, pointing up to the sky at a giant pink bubble that was headed straight for them. 

Eddie squinted up at it. “I think there's something inside.”

“Should we run?”

“Maybe we should pop it.”

“You just said there was something inside! Wouldn’t that let it out?”

Eddie shrugged.

In no time, the bubblegum colored sphere settled near them and faded away, leaving behind a woman with long dark wavy hair. She held a long scepter, and wore a tall crown and a poofy ball gown, of all things. There was also something very familiar about her face. 

“Wait.”

“No.”

“Is that?”

“It can’t be.”

“Joyce?!” They both said, in tandem.

The woman in the ballgown tilted her head. “Who’s Joyce?”

“You are.” Steve said. 

She shook her head, offering him a kind smile. “I’m afraid not. I’m Glinda, the Witch of the North, and who might you be?”

Eddie leaned in, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she serious?”

Steve snorted a laugh, quickly trying to hide it with a cough.

“What’s so funny?” Not-Joyce asked. 

“Nothing, uh, I’m Steve, and this is Eddie.”

She stepped carefully around them, pointing her sparkly stick at the half-a-dead-body that jutted out from under Eddie’s van. “What do you boys have to say for yourselves?”

“I’m sorry?” Eddie said, sobering quickly. At the same time Steve insisted, “It was an accident!”

“Stop giving them a hard time, Glinda. They did us a favor!” A strangely familiar voice called out from behind a nearby bush, and a moment later 6 small-ish figures came popping out of the surrounding foliage.

“They killed The Wicked Witch of the East!” The one with curly hair shouted, as the others cheered.

Eddie jumped. “Jesus H. Christ, where did all you little fuckers come from?!”

“Oh my god.” Steve muttered under his breath.

It was the kids, except they were actually kids. The 11-year-old versions of Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Max, and El pushed and shoved their way past each other, all trying to be the first to approach.

“Who you calling little?” Baby-Lucas said.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here guys? Why are you so young, and what’s with the outfits?” Steve asked, completely dumbfounded.

Once he’d gotten over the initial shock of their appearance, Steve realized they were all wearing costumes or something. The girls wore pink frilly dresses and tall pointed bonnets, something he knew for a fact Max would never have agreed to, and the boys had these funny little shorts with long socks and matching tops—except for Dustin, who donned long pants and an even longer coat, along with a striped bow tie and a giant pocket watch hanging from his side. 

Eddie looked similarly stunned. “How did you get us here? And how did you get Joyce in on it?”

“Who’s Joyce?” Mini-Mike-Wheeler asked.

“I think they mean me.” Not-Joyce said.

Tiny Dustin’s face twisted up in confusion. “But that’s not your name.”

She shrugged. “I tried telling them that.”

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Okay fine, she’s Glinda. Who are you?”

“Oh! I'm the mayor of Munchkinland.” A wide, gummy smile spread across tiny-Dustin’s face as he stuck his arm out, er, up, for a handshake. 

Steve stared down at him, unimpressed. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I'm done playing whatever game this is. How do we–”

A sudden explosion went off in the middle of the town square only a few yards away, creating a thick cloud of red smoke. On instinct Steve and Eddie both moved to place themselves between the oncoming threat and the Munchkins. 

The air cleared quickly, revealing a woman in a long black dress and matching cloak, carrying a broom and wearing a hard scowl.

Steve blinked at her, then looked at Eddie for confirmation that they were seeing the same thing. 

“Mrs. Click?”

Eddie nodded.

Her complexion was all wrong but the resemblance was uncanny.

Steve leaned in, whispering, “If that’s Click, who do you think the one we hit was?” 

Eddie grinned. “O’Donnel.”

“I am the Wicked Witch of the West. You killed my sister. Prepare to die.” The newcomer declared loudly, sneering at the two of them.

Eddie rounded on her, pointing a finger right in her face. “Look lady, we’ve had just about enough–”

Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “What my friend here means to say is, it was an accident and we’re very sorry.”

“I’ll show you an accident, young man,” The Wicked Witch said, raising her green hands and long pointy nails threateningly in their direction.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Glinda raised her voice, as she too moved to protect the little ones.

“The ruby slippers! Yes!” The Wicked Witch smiled gleefully and made a beeline for Eddie’s van. 

When her back was to them, Glinda winked at Steve and did some kind of wavy-woo with her stick, which, in hindsight he realized was a wand, and the red shoes disappeared from the dead body’s feet right before their eyes, reappearing in Steve’s hand a second later.

“They’re gone!” The Wicked Witch gasped, whirling on the spot and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Why is it always me?” Steve grumbled, resigned to the fight, only to find Eddie taking a protective step in front of him as she approached. 

“You! Give them back. I’m the only one who knows how to use them. They’re of no use to you!”

She wasn’t wrong, but Steve felt like maybe it wasn’t the best idea to give what he suspected was a powerful magical object to a woman whose sister they’d just murdered. All those months of spectating while the party played D&D were finally paying off. 

“Put them on and stay tight inside of them, Steve.” Glinda said, her tone grave. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly.”

Nailed it.

“You stay out of this, Glinda, or I'll fix you as well!”

The Good Witch waved her off. “You have no power here. Now be gone before someone drops a… a… a…” She stuttered, waffling as if searching for the right word.

“A van?” Eddie supplied.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Eddie dear.” She cleared her throat, pausing for what Steve could only assume was dramatic effect. “Now, be gone before someone drops a van on you, too!”

“Very well, but I'll be watching.” The Wicked Witch hissed, zeroing in on Steve once again. “I’ll get you my pretty-boy, and your little dog too!”

“Hey! Who are you calling a dog? You looked in the mirror lately?! Witch.” Eddie spat. 

She huffed, raising her broomstick high above her head and bringing it down hard against the road at her feet, sending more red smoke billowing up from the spot to quickly engulf her form. When it was gone, so was she.

“Little dog. Pfft.” Eddie muttered.

“It’s the hair.” Little-Max said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Tiny-Dustin agreed, nodding as he rubbed stubby fingers against his small chin. “The word scruffy does come to mind, to be fair.” 

“Watch it, Mayor.” Eddie warned.

“That, and the way you were guarding your friend there.” Little-Max spoke again.

Eddie glowered as she dissolved into giggles that quickly spread through the small crowd. Soon all the Munchkins, as well as Glinda, were clutching their sides with laughter.

Steve didn’t get what was so funny. 

“Don’t listen to them, Munson. I like your hair. It’s very… metal.” 

Eddie put on a show of rolling his eyes, but under it all was a shy pleased smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

“That’s rough, boys. You’ve made quite the enemy. The sooner you get out of Oz the better I think.” Glinda said, when the laughter had finally faded. 

“And how do we do that exactly?” Eddie asked. “The van’s broken down, and even if it wasn't, I have no idea where the hell we are or how we even got here! Let alone how to get back to Hawkins.”

“The only person who might be able to help you would be The Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Okay, I'll bite. How do we find this Great Wizard?” It took all his strength not to put those last two words in air quotes.

“He lives in the Emerald city.” She said.

“And how do we get there?”

“Follow the yellow brick road, of course.”

Eddie shook his head. “Of course, she says.”

“Do you not have yellow brick roads where you come from?”

“No.” Steve snapped. He was already so tired of this shit, and somehow he knew that the end of, whatever this was, was nowhere in sight. 

“My, my, you two are grumpy.” Glinda muttered. Without another word she took a few steps away from them and waved her wand, conjuring a new pink bubble around herself. 

“Wait, you can’t just leave us here with these kids!” Steve shouted, but it was too late, The Good Witch had already started to float away. 

“We’re not kids, y’know.” Tiny-Dustin said.

“You look like kids.”

“Whatever.” The boy shrugged, taking one of their hands in each of his. “Come on, we’ll walk you to the edge of town.”

-

The edge of town turned out to be roughly 10 feet away from where the van had landed, which wasn’t a surprise given the compact nature of Munchkinland as a whole, but it did have Steve wondering why they even bothered. 

At least the kids—sorry, the Munchkins, had been helpful enough to point out the yellow brick road. 

As if they could have missed it.

Eddie let out a long whistle. “Wow, that is YELL-ow. Like, I know they said it, but I guess I expected it to be dull or dirty or something, not this bright sunshine color. Kinda reminds me of that sweater you used to wear.”

Steve tucked the pair of heels awkwardly under his arm and started down the path, wishing he had a bag or something to put them in. Holding onto them like this was going to get annoying fast. 

“Aren't you going to put those on first?” Eddie asked.

“Are you serious, Munson?” Steve slowed his pace, turning to gape at him.

Eddie grinned, bumping their elbows together when he caught up. “What, afraid you can’t walk in ‘em?”

“I wear a size 13 men’s shoe, they’re never gonna fit me!”

For a fraction of a second Eddie’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Jesus, guess I was onto something with that nickname, big boy.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shoving the shoes in Eddie’s direction. “Why don’t you put them on?”

“No, that Glinda lady gave them to you, expressly.”

“I'm telling you they’re not gonna fit.”

“Magic shoes, Steve.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “Magic shoes! Just try, I'm sure it’ll be fine.”

Steve glared as he toed his sneakers off, tying the laces together before throwing them over Eddie’s shoulder, and finally slipped his feet into the sequin adorned pumps. 

They fit like a glove.

He twisted at the waist, glancing behind his own back, sticking first one leg out, and then the other, as he looked down at himself. “Hmm, they do make my ass look nice, I guess.” 

He also just so happened to be wearing his date night jeans, the ones that hugged him in all the right places, and with the addition of the shoes? It was a good look, if he did say so himself. 

A high pitched noise escaped Eddie’s throat. “As if you needed any more help in that department.” He mumbled under his breath.

Steve swallowed hard. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie was always doing that—flirting, making little comments and then pretending he hadn’t. It drove Steve crazy, never sure if Eddie actually meant it, or if he just liked to tease—not quite sure which answer he hoped was the truth.

Steve turned on his heel, literally, and strode away, tired of wasting time. His first few steps were a bit wobbly, a little like a newborn calf learning to walk, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly. He wasn’t, like, swaying his hips side-to-side confident or anything—yet—but he was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to randomly fall over. It was good enough for now. 

“What are we looking for again?” He asked without turning around. 

“The Emerald city.” Eddie replied, falling into step beside him again, cheeks a little pink. “The little guy who looked like Will said we’d know it when we saw it.”

“Nicely vague, figures.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. They seem to take everything very literally around here, so my guess is if we see a place with a lot of big bright green buildings, that’ll be the one.”

Ch 2: Yellow Brick Road

Ch 3 (coming 4/27)

Ch 4 ( coming 4/28)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)!

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie wizard of oz #post season 4 #eddie lives #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #gift fic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #the party

[skeletoninthemelonland]

Sometimes I look into Behind The Code's early development and feel both embarrassed and relieved that I won't be working on it for a while.

It really isn't much of a deal, but I know how I posted updates without really showing any progress. I'd write two paragraphs for the script, give up on it, come back two weeks later and start from scratch. And the period between each gap got larger with time.

Majority of the time I 1. worried about people's opinions on the storytelling 2. worried about not being experienced enough as a writer and as an animator to work on an animated series and 3. failed to realize I shouldn't work on an ambitious project like BTC by myself at a young age, while studying and working every day.

And boy, it was quite ambitious.

"The story should be impeccable, none of it should be even SLIGHTLY problematic or overly challenging. All characters should appear at some point (there are over 50 of them). The soundtrack must be perfectly fitting for the situation. It's fine if the animation seems flawed, but it has to be fluid 70% of the time. I must add secret characters and hidden easter eggs in every episode. There will be a total of 7 episodes, 20-45 minutes each. It must have voice acting..." and the list goes on.

A year ago I'd be very disappointed in myself for interrupting the project (or even accepting the fact I wouldn't do most of the things listed), but now I realize I was just a kid, doing kid things and having fun. I regret nothing, and at the moment, I truly wish to get back to BTC after graduating as a biologist and getting a job.

#hope not to get into any other ambitious projects for the time being lmfao #starbstalks #announcements #behind the codes

[marlynnofmany]

Accidental Training

The animal cargo of the day was large and honking, but it seemed well-mannered enough. Picture a sea lion with tiny scales instead of fur, dark gray on top and speckled pale underneath. Bobbing its head in curiosity at the cargo bay and the people in it. The squid-shaped clients maneuvering the cage into place didn’t rate a second look, but they were probably familiar and boring.

Captain Sunlight, with her lemon-yellow scales and dignified lizardperson demeanor, got a lot of attention. She ignored the honks as she finished business with the clients.

Then I stepped up to see what kind of creature I’d be in charge of for this trip, and it exploded in excitement like a 500-pound puppy, dancing in place on its flippers and honking up a storm.

One of the clients said, “It does that sometimes. Have a good flight,” then waved a tentacle and left.

Captain Sunlight squinted at the cage like she would have liked to cover her earholes but wanted to put on a strong front. Instead she looked up at me and said, “Good thing this is a short journey. It seems to like you, though.”

“I see that,” I said, waggling my fingers at it, which just made it honk louder. “Did they tell us a name for it?”

She consulted the information on her tablet while the excitable creature continued to hop around. “Looks like his name is Freckles.”

“That’s adorable,” I said. “Hi, Freckles! Are you a good boy? Yes? Are you so excited that you could break a weaker travel cage than this? Yes you are!” I pressed my hands to my knees in classic talking-to-puppy fashion, which did nothing for the noise levels in the room.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Captain Sunlight told me. “The hover setting for the cage is turned off; it’s clamped in place; the food and supplies are here; we’ll take off shortly.”

“Got it,” I said with a wave as she left. There was a chance that Freckles would calm down if I left too, but he seemed equally likely to make lonely wails if left alone, and anyways this was the reason I’d been hired in the first place. Nobody else on the courier ship knew the first thing about animals. “All right, Freckles, are you ready to travel through space? Is that new for you? You look like you’re in good shape. Let’s aim for no medical emergencies on this trip.”

Freckles honked once, which I took for a yes. He bobbed up and down like a dog inviting another to play.

I copied the move, and he did it again. I lifted one foot, and he did the same, honking happily.

“Good boy! I’ll bet you make your people proud by holding still for tooth-brushing, don’t you? Lemme see your teeth. Ahhh.” I opened my mouth as an example.

With a similar noise, the clever animal copied the motion. His teeth looked clean enough, with none discolored or missing, and he even stuck his tongue out for a good look when prompted. I found a nearly-empty container of treats among the supplies, and rewarded him for good behavior.

“Good job. What else should we check? Can you show me your flipper? And turn like this? Very good. And like that?”

He could and did, visibly happy with the praise and treats. He was a little calmer now that there was something specific to do.

The engines started up with a quiet rumble, which caused him a moment of anxiety, but he was happily distracted when I started echoing his honks back at him.

If this had been an inanimate cargo, I would have left the cargo bay already, but I had nothing more important to do. My job today was to keep an eye on this guy. So I prompted him to do more beneficial tricks, then when the treats ran out, I decided the container made a fine toy.

“Hey look, a hat,” I told him as I put the lid on my head. The container was a mostly-round thing that twisted apart into two equal halves. That meant Freckles got a hat too. And he was so happy about it when I stuck it between the bars.

Only one coworker walked past the door while I was entertaining the cargo: Mur the Strongarm, who looked much like the people who’d brought Freckles onboard. Mur paused, saying nothing. Freckles ignored him, dancing from side to side while wearing his jaunty new hat.

I held my own pose, one foot in the air, arms spread. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” Mur said. “Nothing at all.” He continued on his way.

“You’re welcome to join us!” I called after him.

“No thanks. I’m good.”

The short trip was pretty fun. Freckles was particularly taken by the discovery that his honks echoed when the container covered his snout. He could even balance it on his flipper like a hand, taking it on and off to test the difference in sounds. When I did the same and then gave him another treat from a fresh container, he pranced in place and slapped his flippers together.

As it turned out, he was good at repeating patterns too. We did some clapping games of the sort that human toddlers love, then I found a ball among the supplies and we were all set for the rest of the trip. It was even the squishy kind that glorped between the bars instead of bouncing off, which was perfect. We played an entertaining game of catch until the engine noises changed into landing sounds.

I was honestly surprised the trip was over. The captain came back in to meet the clients who were here for pickup, and I made sure to pack away everything into the supplies. Freckles made a sad honk when I took the container back, but I gave him one last treat, and that made up for it.

These two clients looked much like the last, though one was carrying a bag from the shopping trip they’d done on the way here. They were also more talkative than the other ones.

“…Had to stop by the battery shop for three different kinds of chargers, then the feed store for more of the special diet that our oldest animal takes, and there was so much traffic!” The one typing information into the payment screen didn’t stop for breath, waving several tentacles as she talked.

“I’m just glad there was a mask attachment of the right size in stock,” said the one with the bag. “Getting Freckles his air vitamins is going to be hard enough as it is.” He pulled something from the bag: a long tube with a concave shape at one end. “What do you think, Freckles? Can this be easy for once?”

Freckles honked, which could have meant anything.

I looked at the mask. “What does he usually do when you have to give him air vitamins?”

The Strongarm sighed like a deflating balloon. “He just doesn’t want it anywhere near his face. He seems to think it’s a game to avoid it, which is fun for him but incredibly tiresome for everyone else.”

“Have you tried making it a different game?” I asked, starting to smile.

“Like what?”

“Can I see that for a moment?” When he passed it over, I got the container of treats and rattled it for Freckles’ attention, then took a position in front of the cage. I held the mask in front of my own face. “Hey Freckles. Honk honk.”

He of course honked happily and shoved his nose through the bars, eager for his turn. I settled it against his snout — perfect fit — and he honked away. I pulled the mask back and gave him a treat, then turned to beam at the clients.

“What! He’s never done that!” said the one.

“How did you train him to do that?” demanded the other.

“Honestly, I wasn’t trying to,” I admitted. “But he’s very smart. He seems to like copying motions, and he’s definitely food-motivated.”

“Oh yes, those are the good treats,” said the client with the bag. “The new kind that my cousin’s book club host recommended.”

I handed back the mask. “Then you might keep these in reserve for important things, like rewarding him for taking his air vitamins. Though given how much he’s enjoying the new game, you might not even need to.”

The clients were overjoyed. They thanked me, thanked Captain Sunlight, and showered Freckles with praise as they unclamped the cage and started up its hover function. We helped them down the ramp, then they waved off any further assistance on the way to a flatbed skimmer with a loading arm. The guy with the bag of shopping struggled just a bit managing all the supplies too, but neither Captain Sunlight nor I were about to insult a Strongarm by suggesting they needed help carrying something. So we just waved our goodbyes and made sure they got everything loaded onto the skimmer before we closed the cargo bay door.

“Bye, Freckles!” I called as it closed. I heard one last honk, which I decided sounded excited about the skimmer ride to come.

“Well,” said Captain Sunlight. “That was fortunate. Good job.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think they’ll all enjoy the vitamin process more now, especially Freckles.”

We walked through the empty cargo bay to the hall, where Paint met us, with confusion on her scaly orange face and a jar lid in her hands.

“Mur said to give this to you?” she said, holding it out to me.

I laughed. “Mur thinks he’s very funny.” I dutifully set it on my head. “Yes, the height of fashion. But I think it would look better on him. You can tell him I said so.”

“Okay,” Paint said, taking the lid back. “Why?”

Captain Sunlight huffed a laugh and headed off to the cockpit while I began the explanation of how I’d spent the recent flight.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#simple one this time #sometimes the job is just Dealing With Animals #and all that that may entail #my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs

[covertblizzard]

jaykyle au where they're theatre kids in the same school but they're not the actors jason's the scriptwriter/director and kyle is the prop manager (i don't know the official terms sorry) and they'd probably do an amazing job on the backstage setting if they could stop arguing for 5 whole seconds about their artistic visions and ideas and how "this would obviously work better this way"

#jason todd #kyle rayner #jaykyle #mypost #dc thoughts #vp of the club: maybe we should find some other people to do the job if they can't get along? #pres of the club: no they're both talented af and i want this to be raving success just knock their heads tgt and tell them to play nice or #i'll make them wear the get along shirt again #WAIT ONE SEC DONNA'S THE PRES and overseer she's pissed bcos kyle played the same role last year and he was chill then #wally's vp no 1 and backstage manager and he's thinking of kicking kyle out #dick's vp no 2 and main lead and he's thinking of kicking jason out bcos it's embarrassing and annoying to work with your younger siblings #kon helps kyle with props and bart is one of the actors and kon is jealous af about it he grumbles a little #roy is the fight scene choreographer #i'm trying to think of something for garth but the only thing that comes to mind i'm not sure are fitting enough #actor manager? weapon manager? oooh maybe pet manager if they have animals... human and pet manager???? hr department but including animals #ooooh maybe pet manager if they have animals #raven can play bart's love interest (in play) maybe (wally doesn't like it and neither does gar for very different reasons) #eddie deals with the contraptions they build for this bubble machines smoke machines lowering and raising anything mechanical #rose and cass helps with the weapons stuff they keep fighting too and roy is TIRED #connor plays the villain he didn't mean to or want to but he got dragged into it and he's really hot and gunned in for next years main lead #he doesnt want this #steph and mia are hair makeup costume department but bart and kon love to hangout and help too #jennie-lynn and bart are in-charge of socials #tim pops up a lot because so many of his friends (and brothers) are here and when he does he helps steph and mia #damian too pops up to help with pet management and sometimes prop art #this is much to dicks annoyance jason is already here can his little brothers LEAVE HIM ALONE SOMETIMES UGH #damian (taking cues from talia and bruce loverenemies dynamic and wanting an artist in-law): we should set jason and kyle up #dick: no / tim: hmm / dick: NO #i want to add the yj girls (cassie cissie greta anita) but i know too little about them right now but imagine they're there and the roles #are to be determined

[whirld-of-color]

do we think stick city has its own laws? are there stick lawyers? is there a stick right to remain silent?

#animation vs minecraft #animator vs animation #ava #avm #alan becker #you gotta wonder sometimes #im talking about the fanon extended universe really #so ig sfar would probably have the ability to enforce those sorts of things #but like i feel like itsssss…difficult #like how do you charge people like dark and chosen with crimes #‘you have to show up to your court case or we’ll send you to jail’ like they wouldn’t BREAK OUT? #maybe the stick equivalent of jail is like. exile. firewalls ya know? #then again i feel like the laws are a little laxer for sticks just bc they get away w/ whack shit all the time #murder violence physical altercation property damage etc probably aren’t a super big deal unless the murder is like. permanent #idk #maybe it’s like bnha #like im just saying this bc of oc hero-villain dynamics but maybe that’s how they keep the peace #legally heros as a job yk? #anyway i digress this whole thing started bc i was thinking of getting a sfar oc #lawyer! legal counsel! etc etc!! #michael talks

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )

<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>

Relationship: Fluff

Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader

Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.

A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.

A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.

These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.

"I guess that's all of it"

"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"

You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.

You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.

"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"

" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"

You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.

The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.

"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"

It was the third time this week.

Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.

"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.

You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.

You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.

To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.

So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.

For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.

You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.

You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.

It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.

You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.

Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.

"How's your day at the play care today?"

"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"

"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"

"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"

"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"

"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"

"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"

"I—"

"Ha! Gotcha!"

You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.

Just don't get himself dirty all the time.

"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."

"And why is that?"

"They said you stole their work...."

"....."

Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.

It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.

You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.

You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.

"It is our fault wasn't it?"

"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"

You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.

You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.

You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.

You did the same thing with his ears and chests.

Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.

You treat them like a real person.

Like they used to be.

Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....

You care for him, so he will do the same to you.

You are his angel, after all....

"Alright, everything's done!"

You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.

"Is this for me, angel?"

"Yeah, it suits you well"

Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.

I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!

"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"

"You're welcome, bud"

A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!

I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.

Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime #dogday #dogday x reader #catnap x reader #various x reader #fluff relationship #platonic relationship #Reader is a parental figure #catnap #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #picky piggy

[gallusrostromegalus]

Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.

In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.

I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.

But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.

I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.

He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.

But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.

And last week, he had a breakthrough.

Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.

Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.

Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.

This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.

I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.

___

If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.

#Family Lore #Dogs #Herschel the Haunkkah Goblin #Charleston Chew

[happy74827]

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x female!reader #fnaf #fnaf games #fnaf fic #fanfic #reader #x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys movie #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael schmidt x reader #fanfiction #abby schmidt #fnaf fandom #fnaf fanfic #william afton #mike afton #michael afton #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #michael afton x reader #mike schmidt x y/n #fnaf x female reader #fluff #female! reader

[undreaming-fanfiction]

As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...

Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.

He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.

Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.

Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."

Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."

"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."

Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."

Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."

But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."

Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.

And unsurprisingly, he's right.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eleven stranger things #jane hopper #steddie au #cat cafe au #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE PARAGRAPH FFS

[hana-no-seiiki]

Omg the dog shapeshifter ask is amazing but like- cat. i can already imagine Tim being all over you and being one of those guys where half his personality is just that he has a cat. Dick would 120% invest in those hoodies with the pouch to carry their cats, and Jason just carries you everywhere (wiggles be danmed).

The only person who has any qualms about it is Alfred because everything is covered in cat hair lmao.

meow. more pawtastic cat villain! reader w/ batfam

@sophiethewitch1 👅

You tended to take the lead when it came to your relationships with the Robins

They were just too busy with duty and heroism that they rarely ever took the time to be or get into relationships. So you would help them, cover them in that area per se.

Though there were times, like an actual cat, that you suddenly hate their asses or be indifferent. You didn’t notice it yourself really. Sometimes you were just stressed from real life problems and whatnot

or dealing with Bruce’s constant sermons about how you were a bad influence on Jason. Blaming you for all these strung up bodies across the streets of Gotham that had been tied up with yarn and catnip.

sometimes you just wanted to reel back the persona you’ve built up as a villain and just chill out

but you see, if there’s anyone who would notice the slightest change in your demeanor it would be the batboys

Tim and Jason would be the first. They spend the most time with you.

Instead of giving them a kiss or a quick fuck after a job well done, you’d just say goodbye and leave.

Not even in your signature cat joke filled way of saying goodbye

Hell you would even just teleport out of there without a word

Tim would have most likely observed you more, but Jason? Jason would be on your ass in seconds

“Hey, kitty? We need to talk.“

Did I mention that the boys love to use various cat related nicknames for you? The cringier the better.

(Damian just calls you pussy at times)

In anycase, Jason knocks on your door. But you do not respond. Like, for a long fucken time.

Ofc, he smashed the door open.

And what does he see?

Well first it was nothing. I mean his eyes weren’t directly on the floor immediately . But then he move his gaze down,

You, in your cat form.

He just about screams. Shrieks. Like I could maintain his sense of dignity for you dear reader but nah. It started as a shout of surprise before it turned into a high pitched cry, and lastly cooing.

He’s confused at first and is worried about your sudden disappearance til you cleared things up.

Something about a curse that turns you into an actual cat at random moments.

You said it interrupted a lot of your civilian business (school, work, etc.) and so your mental health and well being took a decline.

And boy did Jason go mom mode.

He’s more on the practical side. He makes sure you’re comfortable and guarded especially when in dangerous situations.

Will never let you go on a heist with this curse on going. What if you get shot by a guard? What if you get kidnapped by those horrid animal pounds? Not to mention those perverts that would… no he shook his head.

Definitely keeps you within arms reach at all if not most times.

Tim finds out soon after. You tried to ask him to respect your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself. He was scared to death that he did something wrong or exposed something he did that breached your trust.

He immediately buys a ton of cat related products for you.

Not only that he does an extensive amount of research on cat health and diets.

His rooms gets covered by different studies on cat cellular makeup before he realizes that

Oh crap, he kinda enjoyed this.

And he hasn’t looked up how to actually cure this curse of yours.

Damian soon follows. He’s got it the worst out of all members.

Prides himself with his wide experience and knowledge with animals.

He uses visits to the vet as a threat when you misbehave.

But you’re a villain, you don’t get scared easily right? What’s the worse that could happen at the vet’s?

… yeah he almost got you neutered/spayed.

Safe to say that you were much more obedient after that.

Bruce isn’t that available or good with pets, so he mostly just funds whatever the boys do hoping that it’d lead to them not destroying stuff or killing people for you any more than before the curse.

Dick is the last to find out, and that was because Tim dropped a whole thesis about why the latter should definitely have more [Y/N]-cat-duty hours!

I mean just look at those charts! Your happiness is definitely at its highest when you’re with him

(ignoring the fact that he showers you with catnip)

Dick is definitely the

Cuteness aggression that borders on abuse type of cat owner

Very touchy with you.

And yes he invests a lot of money to get have pouches on his suits for you to be in. If not you’d be like that one cat from Spiderman Miles Morales just hanging out from a backpack of sorts, designed so you’ll never fall out.

Collars.

These men have collectively spent around hundreds of thousands of dollars on cat related shit

And you’re still wondering how tf this curse came to be

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #batfam #dc #batfam x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere robin #yandere robin x reader #robin

[hotpinkstars]

same bitch who requested the last wrio pregnancy stuffs but I need more and I'm like kinda in love with your writing so I want to request MOREEEEEEE anyways how he deals with reader third trimester (WRIO DOTING ON U CUS UR SO ROUND AND CUTE AWEEHFUREILFRUEIWHFCIR) anyeyss thanks for listening ily nova

-> third trimester

synopsis -> wriothesley during ur third trimester of pregnancy. self explanatory

a/n -> anon ur my spirit animal i love ur energy (and u 😉) but anyways i could write so much more lmk if anyone wants a part 2

warnings -> pregnancy, lactation and vomiting mentions, besides that pure fluff

w/c -> 1.6k

he doesn’t know how to feel the moment you tell him you’re officially in the third trimester of your pregnancy. it all went by so fast, he thinks it was just yesterday you called him into the bathroom to look at the small test that changed your lives in the greatest way possible.

and now, you were almost finished growing your daughter. anyone who even took a glance your way could certainly tell that you were having a child, and it’s certainly the dukes. 

the women of the fortress have been keeping tabs on you and your pregnancy, awaiting the day you walk with your baby in your arms instead of in your stomach. they’re so nice to you, so wriothesley allows you to wander sometimes because of it. they’re always willing to make you comfortable and give you some of the nicest labor-inducing teas they can find.

now, this is around the time he’s likely going to take a work leave, or just not work as often. his job requires his undivided attention, and he has to be flexible and able to be there in case a tragedy, like the seal breaking, were to occur. (hopefully not, because he still thinks about how he’d get you out of the fortress in time. you’re unable to run and you can barely walk at a quick pace, leaving him nervous and clueless a lot, considering your living quarters were connected to a door in his office). 

besides that, your life is pretty good, despite how uncomfortable you feel all the time. you ache everywhere, and sleep is simply not a thing that comes by often anymore. so, these are the moments wriothesley is able to step in and make sure that you’re content and as comfortable as you possibly can be. 

the main thing he needs to do for you is help you stand, considering that it’s incredibly hard for you now. you can do it of course, but it’s too much effort and you always either stand and immediately sit back down due to how winded you feel, or you just don’t try at all. wriothesleys strength comes into hand in these moments, almost making you fall forward due to how quick he pulls you up (the first time he did it, it actually happened. he caught you in time, but it left you laughing and him just there like “i almost just killed you sweetheart” and worried). 

he’s so the type of husband to barely wake up when you scoot yourself out of bed to use the restroom, and him behind you giving you a little boost to get up before going right back to sleep. he’ll try to keep consciousness while you’re out of bed, in case you fall or something happens, but as soon as he sees you re-enter the room he’s out once more. 

the only times he genuinely wakes up at night is when you frantically shake/tap him or you’re crying. if you’re crying, he’ll sit up and turn on a light (if you want) and try to ask you what the problem is. if it’s just a cramp or if you’re just achy/not in the right position, he’ll massage you or help you reposition the pillows to ensure your comfort. 

and when it comes to you walking up his offices’ stairs? he’s incredibly paranoid about it, but he’ll try to not make it known. you had to tell him multiple times to settle, that the railing was enough to keep you on your balance, and that you were just pregnant, not paralyzed. he’ll still try to meet you down at the door to help you up the stairs, especially when you’re at your biggest point. he’d be anything but calm and composed if you were to take a tumble down them (he would have a heart attack on the spot). 

and oh, would that man dote on your belly. you’re just so adorable, how could he not? especially when you’re curled up on the couch in his office with a luxurious sherpa blanket and the roundness of your tummy under the cover is very evident. usually, he won’t be able to help himself and would lay down next to you, his head lightly propped up on your stomach or on the side of your body. on the occasions he falls asleep, you stroke his hair, reading whatever book in his office that has piqued your interest this time. 

he’s also a tease. sometimes. he’ll walk past you and gently brush a part of his body against your belly, usually his hip or his hand. but back to the point, he’ll rub it, massage it, hold it up to take off pressure from your back and pelvis, and cuddle it! you’re not gonna be pregnant forever, so he sees this as a chance he can’t waste. only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. if not, then he wont proceed. 

this man loves tea, so there's no surprise when he brings in a tea that he’d read induces labor, or at least makes for a smoother one. he honestly probably has so many of those types, presenting you the box and allowing you to choose which one you’d like this time. seeing your eyes sparkle and your fingers wiggle as you choose your tea of choice always makes his heart soar in adoration. 

and back on the tea thing, he’s on all of the times said book told you to have it. he’s always giving it to you right on the dot of the hour unless something else more important has taken his attention (which isn’t much, unless he’s in a meeting or something really bad has happened in fontaine/the fortress). 

he’s also one of those husbands who secretly makes an important note in his brain whenever you have an ultrasound or any sort of baby appointment coming up. he wouldn’t miss one for the world- even though it's one of the little things, it means a lot to the both of you when he shows up alongside you, and shows the world how devoted of a husband he is to you. cue clorinde in the corner taking care of his work for him during the hour that he’s away. 

like i said in my last post, his massages are incredible! usually, he’ll get the memo, and right when he gets home, he’ll set you in between his legs before rubbing the soreness out of your back, hips, shoulders, neck, foot, and calf. 

he likes to make those moments last longer, and makes him feel good if you feel good. sometimes he’ll add a little kiss to the top of your foot or along your shoulders when he’s done, making you giggle a little before going on about how he has no need to be so formal (in which he counteracts by saying something cheesy about his love for you to make you laugh once more). 

he hates seeing you in pain, and especially hates it when he hears you cry about how exhausted you are. no, not that he hates when you cry, he just hates that you have to do this all alone. obviously, he is there to give all of his support and more, and would carry the baby for you if he could, but he can't. and he knows you’re exhausted, but his issue is that there is nothing for him to do to help you feel at least a little better. he understands that it’ll come when the baby is born, and he’s already told you how for the first few weeks he’ll do anything and everything to care for the baby while you catch up on your hard-earned rest. 

another great thing about him is that he pays no mind to things such as lactation, vomiting, etc (i have genuinely seen men who make fun of their wives for things such as that out of their control). he recognizes that its just something that happens, and its normal in pregnancy, and he won't get mad at you if any of these things happen while you’re wearing his clothing, either. considering you dislike maternity clothes, you’ve been wearing his shirts lately, resulting in milk stains in some of them. you’re over here apologizing profusely while he gives you a soft lecture on how he understands that it's not your fault, that it's out of your control. because he also knows for certain that if this was something you could control, you’d choose to not have it happen. 

this guy is clingy at night, so when he realizes that cuddling you is kind of out of the options, either due to your absolutely obnoxious, in his words pregnancy pillow, or your belly is in the way, he’s certainly not thrilled. but he finds a way, which is usually just spooning you from behind or bringing your head to his chest. the first time you two did the second method, you felt embarrassed, due to your tummy barely even being able to fit the gap between you and his hip, but as time went on, you just didn’t care anymore, literally laying like half on top of him. not like he cares either. thats what he wanted you to do in the first place. 

and in the times your so so clingy, wanting to just lay flat on top of him and forget about everything and just be in the warm, strong embrace of your husband, he’s even more crafty! usually uses the side method once again unless you quite literally find a position that’ll make you as close as you possibly could be to him. sometimes it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but if it makes you happy and safe and content, he won’t fight it. just know that this might be the only time you get to do that very position with him. 

overall, mans is a great fucking husband during your pregnancy, always super patient with you and would never shame you for things out of your control. you know he’s so so soft for you and you love him so so so so much.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact fluff #cw pregnancy

[seeminglyseph]

The whole point of Scott Pilgrim is that at the beginning of Scott Pilgrim vs The World he’s like a big freeloading manchild who strings along a teenage girl because he doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to have a real relationship or end one properly and ends up devastating her and causing her serious emotional harm because he’s a deeply selfish individual who takes advantage of his friends and anyone who will let him because he’s an avoidant and whiny loser who hasn’t grown up or learned to how to be decent person.

Throughout the comic series he faces various conflicts and challenges that force him to grow as a person and deal with the consequences of his actions and this makes him have to learn that he is technically a pretty shitty person who has done a lot of really shitty things to people, and as such it kinda makes him grow up and become a better person. He makes amends and is still not *great* but he like… has to get a job, has to realize his behaviour hurts people and has to take responsibility.

The new cartoon makes him face a version of that person who didn’t take those lessons as deeply to heart as he should have and just decided to blame everyone else and run away and lash out and it makes him realize what a deeply unpleasant and unlikeable person he is to be around hopefully helping him to grow too.

Scott is not supposed to be a good person at the beginning of his character arc. He’s pretty reprehensible. Honestly most of the characters in the series don’t like him save for the teenager who is too young to know better and the girl who has just met him and isn’t all that great herself. Because as the new series shows, Ramona has her own issues to work through. She treated her “league of evil exes” like trash and dumped them for some pretty shit reasons.

Part of the reason Ramona and Scott end up working out is that neither of them were particularly great people. She’s flaky and judgemental and hurts people, she’s bad at communication and she plays people against each other if it works out for her sometimes. She doesn’t like it when relationships get hard, and that’s how she can have 7 exes with such hard feelings they formed a league over it.

But judging people at the beginning of their character arc isn’t really fair because like. You don’t take your final exam on the first day of class. They do manage to learn and grow and get better at stuff. They make amends and learn and become better people over time. And that’s part of the human experience.

And that’s something I really like about the new anime because on top of everything all the characters get that chance, I love seeing the Evil Exes getting a chance to grow and get closure and development. Matthew Patel’s character development is maybe my favourite thing to watch. Look at him become a Beautiful Theatre Kid Butterfly. I love him.

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgram vs the world #scott pilgram takes off

[puripurin]

— Recently, well, with in the past 10 years, the government has been trying to integrate humanoid monsters into society. This was because many of these monsters had unique traits that ended up being very beneficial to many people in power, and by integrating them into society, more of these specimens would appear and join government jobs.

So they tried pushing out incentives to integrate into society, such as paying people to live in an apartment building with them. That's where you come in. You have a stable job, but guess who was a pain in your ass?

Your crazy and unprofessional landlord.

She had tried all sorts of stunts to you and the other tenants. On several occasions, she would lock all the tenants out of the building. If any of the bins were overflowing or litter was on the ground, she would raise the bills by random amounts every two weeks, then get mad if you were to call out her bullshit. Nobody wanted to say anything because the last tenants were slapped with an NDA and got threatened by here with a chainsaw.

You couldn't even leave before due to how ridiculously expensive she made it if you were to break the leasing contract. So you had to save up for the past 2 years. Sometimes, you felt like a cartoon character living there with the amount of antics that happened there.

So that's why you immediately took the offer to live with monsters in the building. Plus, it was a really good deal because there were several accommodations and incentives to live there, so you broke off your lease and paid the stupid fees. So finally, you could leave that insane woman's place.

Now you live in Terico Hights, a stress and mad woman free apartment where you live with monstrous neighbors who are literally more humane than your ex-landlord.

And now that you've been here for a couple of months now, you can officially say, you think that your harpy neighbor likes you.

He was one of the original monsters who was assigned to live here and has been living here ever since. His name was Nirico, and his 4 year old disabled daughter, Nira, lives with him. The reason why the mother isn't in the picture is because she literally nearly mauled the poor girl because, apparently, the mother thought that by having a female child, Nirico wouldn't love her anymore and took drastic measures.

You were well acquainted with his child after you were the only one the building who could take care of his child when he was going to get inspected. At first, both him and his daughter were weary of you, but his daughter quickly warmed up once you gave her some mixed nuts.

Nira was absolutely cute, and her scars just made her unique. Over time, you were able to give her kisses on her forehead and brush her hair, which slowly turned into feathers, just like most harpy species, and gently brushing her wing feathers with a toothbrush. Nira absolutely loved doing these things with you and constantly asked her father to join in because it felt really nice.

Nirico was extremely distrustful at first, and when you were alone, threatened you. So you didn't get on the right foot, to say the least. You and him would constantly argue with each other when Nira was around, and the tension between you two was enormous.

That was until one day when you came out of Nira's room after she fell asleep and saw Nirico drinking so much. He was heavily intoxicated and was babbling to you before it once again spiraled into an argument that turned into a heated make-out session, which turned into you both going into his room and fucking like animals.

This turned a switch on in him and started being near your side constantly. It was so obvious that his daughter and neighbors called him out on it, but he didn't care. And he, just like his daughter, wanted to brush your hair and brush his hair and feathers.

When you mention it to your neighbors, they only look at each other with a knowing look before saying congratulations, which left you confused.

Soon enough, those days when Nira wasn't there turned into the times when you'd both go at it like rabbits. After those sessions, he'd give you kisses, clean you up, and brush your hair.

When you try to bring a male co-worker, he'd get aggressive, and you'd have to apologize to him for Nirico's behavior when he eventually leaves. Every time he does this, you'd try to scold him, but he'd always corner you with his arms saying,

"Well, who are you to scold me when you brought a man in my territory. I should be the one scolding and punishing you, my dove."

You really want to know how to get out of this situation, but too bad he'd already marked you as his mate and made your apartment his territory.

And they didn't say that humans and monsters having relationships are illegal, so there should be no fuss, dove.

Idk what to say. 213 followers. I am flabbergasted. I don't know what to say. Oh mah gawd. I have no idea what to do for a special, so give a reccs and i have so much stuff i need to write. I am so grateful that yall enjoy my shit. Thank you! (Ps, nit proofread, also i js wanted a dilf harpy, sorry if the beginning doesn't make any sense mb)

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere harpy

[phoenixblaze1412]

hawoo i like your writings soooooo much!!! can i request something like dottore as our father? like we're his child, literally. can be biological or adopted, up to u!!

His Legacy

Dottore doesn't have the time nor energy to find a lover and create a child with them. He doesn't even want to adopt one, there's a lot of processes that needs to be done before he can officially adopt said child.

If he wants a child, he prefers them to have his genes, a child that can follow in his footsteps and have the same knowledge as he does but from a different perspective of theirs.

What better way to make a child than in the laboratory.

After a month of finding the perfect resources and killing countless women to obtain the proper egg cells, he was able to create an infant, you.

He welcomed you into the world with a grin, his eyes staring back at yours, just the same color as his. He noticed your hair was blue as well, with the tips being a different color, possibly from the unknown mother's genes but he doesn't mind.

The segments all stood on one side of the room while staring at you, currently being held by Dottore himself as he held you out to the segments.

"What is that tiny thing?" "It looks like us but the tips of their hair is a different color." "Are they a failed segment?"

"This child you see before you is mine. I created them in the laboratory using a random woman's egg cell and adding my sperm cell to it. I expect the rest of you to take care of them as well. As for the name... let's call it (Y/n)."

You weren't much of a talker through the years of growing up but Dottore did found out your teeth were sharp like his, he was proud of himself to be able to create you that got most of his characteristics.

He personally taught you everything he knows, from the concept of science itself all the way to the medical field. You're already an expert at opening up a corpse at the fine age of nine without even vomiting or even disgusted at the sight and scent of blood.

Sometimes, the other harbingers would forcefully carry you out of the laboratory just to be able to enjoy the outside world and explore more, much to Dottore's annoyance.

Without the others knowing, Dottore would call a segment and order them to follow you and make sure that you're okay without being caught by his fellow harbingers.

You were given the nickname 'Mini Dottore' by Childe.

Whenever the eleventh harbinger called you that nickname, he would end up in your father's laboratory with a large bloody bite wound on either his arms or legs, courtesy of you.

On special experiments that requires a living test subject, Dottore wouldn't allow you to join in on the experiment, you would be taking the job of an assistant if an occasion arises.

Yes he taught you how to hold a scalpel and how to open up a body but he did it with a dead one. He didn't want you to kill a living organism yet, he may be crazy but he's not crazy enough to let his child watch a person screaming to death.

The segments would use you as a secret weapon if they were told to ask Pantalone for more fundings for their projects. They knew how the regrator couldn't say no to you. You may be a mini version of your father but you're way more adorable than him is what Pantalone stated.

We know Dottore's hair is usually around shoulder length but he doesn't know how to style it. With you in the picture, he had to deal with your hair because it would be everywhere and it is a big problem. It's either he cuts it short with scissors or style it.

He doesn't style it. He just grabs the nearest sharp object he could use and cut it short. He did thought of styling your hair like his but the idea was quickly thrown to the trash when you pouted at him. Luckily he knows how to do a ponytail, although quite messy but he makes sure it doesn't get in the way of your tasks.

Dottore would often be puzzled whenever he would see you caring for animals that were supposed to be used for his experiments. He concluded that this kind personality of yours could have belonged to the woman he killed back then, whoever she was. At least he didn't have to tell you who your mother was if you ever asked him, you were made in a pod chamber in his laboratory after all.

It may not seem like it but Dottore is proud to have you as his child. Aside from the new opinion and perspective he benefited from you, you grew on him and made him care for you.

'Father's little helper' is the nickname Dottore would coo at you whenever you assisted him with his experiments.

The segments treated you as their little sibling, making sure you're safe from harm. Doesn't matter if they get injured themselves because they can handle it but you on the other hand, are more fragile than them.

Dottore promised himself that he would never make you experience the things he went through in his past. He would never make you feel like a monster like he had endured back then.

Some would call you the second harbinger's apprentice, others would call you his pet.

The harbingers however, calls you Dottore's legacy.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #female reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore x reader #child reader

[heliads]

Hello <3 I was wondering if maybe you could write a charles leclerc fic?? Reader could be in charge of social media and fans start to realise that charles flirts with whoever is behind the camera? Sorry if its too vague, but I love your writing and had to send something in

i cheered audibly when i saw this, please let me write more f1 fics

masterlist

When you were just getting started with your career, someone once asked you if you’d ever consider running a social media campaign for something cute, like a zoo or rescue company. You answered them with a firm no; everyone knows animals never work on camera the way you want them to, and you didn’t want that sort of stress in your life. 

You think the universe must be laughing at you, because funnily enough, what you’re doing right now is exactly like herding cats, but you don’t even get adorable animals for your troubles. No, the Formula One media circus is a nightmare, but it’s a well televised nightmare, and that means your job as head of social media for the Scuderia Ferrari F1 team entails a great deal more metaphorical manhandling of the drivers than you’d ever envisioned.

It’s not even metaphorical all the time, the manhandling. Sometimes it’s just you sending out a great deal of mass emails when someone says something they probably shouldn’t or the Ferrari TikTok page is going through a content drought, but sometimes it’s more. Sometimes it’s like today, when you’re forcing the two drivers to go through yet another competition so the YouTube channel can get another push of subscribers.

You’ve done a lot of careful research over the months that you’ve been here, all dedicated to finding out just what sells the best, so to speak. As of late, you’ve learned that the viewers at home really like competitions and challenge videos. Apparently seeing two men who are obviously great friends go head to head over something as pointless as music trivia or Ping Pong is the pinnacle of motorsport content.

It’s not like you’re complaining. More views means a better paycheck for you at the end of the year. The fans like what you’re producing, and Ferrari likes the fans. It all works out in the end, and who are you to deny the Tifosi their favorite entertainment?

Of course, if you were to actually tell the two red-suited drivers that you refer to them as content and entertainment in the private recesses of your own mind, they probably wouldn’t be too happy. That’s why you keep that to yourself. Besides, they’re your friends. Charles and Carlos may make a lot of problems in your life, but who doesn’t? You’re not exactly perfect either. 

You don’t have to be perfect, though, you just have to come up with good ideas and let the boys be funny on their own. Charles said he liked that best about you, actually, that you let them do their own thing most of the time. The previous social media managers had tried to get them to fit this specific picture of what a Ferrari driver should be, but you never did that. You just wanted them to be them. 

You’re perfectly willing to brush that off as a compliment to a coworker, though. In truth, you’re working constantly to paint these two in the best possible light. It gets stressful sometimes, constantly wracking your brain to make each video work, each post take off. You are affecting how millions of people see Charles and Carlos. Hell, you’re practically filtering their legacy all by yourself. 

It’s not a task you take lightly, to say the least. Maybe that’s why Ferrari is content to keep you around. This is a job that you’d like to extend as long as you can. Just like Charles has worked with overly pushy social media handlers, you’ve worked with total diva clients. Neither of the Ferrari drivers are like that in the slightest, which you appreciate more than anything. 

That isn’t to say that they only ever make your life easy. Right now, for instance, you’ve been begging them to focus for the better part of ten minutes. It’s like working with elementary schoolers. You put anything in front of them and they’re totally distracted before you’ve so much as told them what they’re supposed to be doing. 

Today’s video of choice is a long-anticipated cooking video. Charles versus Carlos, the drivers have been given a mystery basket of ingredients à la Chopped. They’ll have half an hour to come up with a dish of choice, and if the time crunch weren’t enough to stress them out, you’ll be judging their culinary creations when time is called. It’s the perfect setup for a hit video, so if all goes well, you’ll see this on the trending page soon enough. 

That is, if you manage to survive this encounter long enough to post the results. By the time you manage to wrangle the drivers’ attention back to you, Charles has attempted to learn the contents of the bag through interpretive dance and hand gestures with the cameramen and Carlos has accidentally turned his stove on thrice. The third time the fires clicked on, he almost set a napkin ablaze. Both drivers are red faced from trying not to break into mad laughter again. 

You clap your hands once. “Alright, are we finally ready to get started?”

Carlos nudges Charles in the side. “Look, she’s disappointed in you already and she hasn’t even tasted your cooking. This means I am going to win by a lot.”

Charles scoffs, but you swear his barely suppressed smile drops in a second when Carlos mentions your disappointment. “Y/N would never be disappointed in me,” he protests, “I am her favorite, obviously.”

He turns to you, raising his hands in your direction as if asking you to prove his point. You shake your head. “I don’t have favorites, Charles. That would not promote a fun workplace environment.”

“Of course,” Charles nods sagely. “If you had a favorite, though, it would be me.”

Carlos snickers, and in an effort to keep their focus with you before you lose them again, you clear your throat and read out the rules of the cooking contest. The drivers say their dutiful bits about how they’re each going to win this by a landslide, and then time begins and they’re off to the culinary races. 

The covers on the baskets go flying. Charles holds up each object in turn, announcing them in tones of increasing panic. “Butter. Flour. Eggs. Green olives? Three strawberries? A box of spaghetti? Pepperoni?”

“You forgot the chocolate and red onion,” Carlos points out helpfully. 

Charles tosses his teammate a withering glare, then turns the full force of his vexation back to you. “Y/N, you are trying to kill me.”

“Charles,” you say, “we talked about that.”

Charles’ brow furrows as he tries to remember what you mean. It hits him as last and he groans, slapping a hand to his forehead in mock desolation. You’ve noticed that Charles has been mentioning you by name a lot in videos, leading to general confusion among fans. As you’ve reminded him many times before, you’re not supposed to be the focus, he is, so he needs to stop bringing you up all the time. Viewers don’t care about who’s filming the content, after all, just who’s in front of the camera. It’s a tip handed down directly from your boss to you.

Charles still grins at you even as he continues unpacking his ingredients. “I can’t help it, you know that. You’re too good, I want to mention you all the time.”

You scoff. “Good at what? Keeping you in line?”

“Everything,” he says, and raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

You roll your eyes and tell him to focus, but even this instruction doesn’t last long. Barely five minutes later, Charles is bringing up the fact that he’s going to totally win this thing because cooking is, like, a love language, right? And he’s the best at love, he declares, winking conspicuously in your direction. Carlos launches an oven mitt at his head and mutters something that the microphones don’t pick up, something that conveniently has the same number of syllables as stop flirting. 

Charles is steadily making jokes the entire duration of the video, actually, and usually you wouldn’t mind this but they’re all spoken with the intention of getting you to laugh. Not the camera, as he’s been told to do before. You. 

You do your best to keep it off your mind. Both drivers have gotten better about opening up on camera since they started, and this is probably just Charles trying something new in an effort to improve his on-screen personality. After all, it can be hard to direct all your charisma towards a camera, why not aim all your smiles at the person filming instead?

The contest ends soon enough. You end up awarding Charles with the win, mainly due to the fact that Carlos’ hand accidentally slipped as he was attempting to strain his pasta and he ended up losing all of his spaghetti down the sink. His plate consisted of sauce and decorative strawberry slices, which, although tasty, did not contain several key ingredients and resulted in an automatic disqualification. 

Despite the rather shaky grounds on which his cooking victory stands, from the way Charles is acting, you’d think he’d won the WDC. He’s beaming at you, talking about how he’d called this from the very start and was proud that you liked his stuff the best. He even offers to wash the dishes, which is very un-driverlike. 

The video ends up a success by all accounts. Even days later, it’s still trending in Tifosi circles, and the view counts are way higher than expected. Curious as to why, you decide to do the unthinkable and check the comments section of the cooking video.

What you find is– unexpected, to say the least. Usually, comments on any post, whether it be Instagram, TikTok, or YouTube, will range from fans lamenting race outcomes to people mentioning their favorite driver to random spam accounts offering thousands of dollars to the lucky person to message them first.

On this video, though? Most all of the comments are about you. This makes no sense, because not only were you on camera for about one minute, you didn’t do anything other than give instructions and judge food. Antonio Giovinazzi did the same job on a video last year, and no one cared at all. Antonio’s actually well-known in the world of motorsports, so why is it that you, someone who largely operates behind the scenes, would be the cause of so much fuss?

Curious, you start scrolling in depth, but find yourself more confused with every reply you see.

He’s totally flirting with her, right?

Is anyone else seeing the fact that Charles is freaking out over trying to impress this girl?

His face when she declared him the winner… I can’t even with him!!

Charles trying to protect Y/N by refusing to let Carlos salvage his sink pasta– they’re dating, right???

You find yourself laughing over it. This can’t be real. Surely nobody in the world actually thinks that Charles Leclerc– F1 driver, Ferrari superhero, Il Predestinato and supporter of all Tifosi hopes and dreams, multi-millionaire– would ever have a crush on you. It’s absurd. It’s so absurd that you find yourself racing to the office of another one of your friends in social media to get her opinion on it.

Your friend looks up at you, startled, when you burst into her office. “Has someone died?”

“No,” you gasp out, “worse.”

Her eyebrows raise. “One of the drivers had a scandal? We can fix this. Get me B-roll of them volunteering or something. We can turn this around in no time.”

“No,” you say weakly, “the Internet thinks I’m dating Charles Leclerc.”

Your friend freezes in her seat, finger still hovering over the call icon on Fred Vasseur’s contact in her phone, then slowly sinks back again. “Well, yeah, I can see why.”

You gape at her. “What?”

Your friend spreads her hands. “He follows you around everywhere you go. He’s always asking about you, you know. I kind of thought you two had a thing as well, it’s not just the Tifosi.”

You break out into somewhat crazed laughter. “Charles? You think Charles likes me? No, that’s ridiculous.”

Your friend, however, looks less skeptical of this news. “Is it really? I mean, he spent the entirety of shooting just cracking stupid jokes so he could make you laugh. You should have seen the way he stared at you whenever you so much as smiled. Man was transfixed.”

You shoot her a disbelieving look. “No– transfixed? Are you kidding? He wasn’t transfixed. He wanted to win a contest because he’s a racing driver and they like to be the best at everything. I’ll tell you what it was, he was trying to win me over so I’d decide the competition in favor of his cooking.”

Your friend chuckles. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

You take a careful seat opposite her desk. “You’d better explain to me what you mean by that right now, or I swear, I’ll make you brainstorm TikTok ideas for the next month.”

Your friend shudders. “Anything but that, please. Those trends are so bad. Anyway, look, Charles has been obsessed with you since, like, the day you joined. I remember introducing you that day, actually, he was practically stammering over his words. Imagine that, someone who’s always so controlled with what he says whenever he talks to the press, and he can’t even say his name properly because a pretty girl is smiling at him.”

This whole situation feels insane. “Maybe you’re remembering it wrong or something. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t like me like that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Your friend asks slowly, and, well, it makes you think.

It makes you think about all of the videos you’ve shot with him, every discussion after a press conference. How taking candids for the Instagram of Charles always takes ten times longer than it should because he never looks at the camera, only at you. How you greeted him earlier this year at the first race of the season and he said what he missed most of all over winter break was you. How he wasn’t even kidding when he said it, just smiling, smiling like he’d never meant something more in his life.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, “Charles likes me.”

Your friend slaps her hand on the desk, startling you. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What do I do, then?” You ask.

Your friend looks like she’s about to scream. “You tell him how you feel, obviously!”

“I do?” You repeat haltingly.

“You do,” she says, “And he’s right across the hall now. Go talk.”

She all but pushes you out of her office, and then you’re alone in the corridor with Charles, who has just spotted you and is heading your way with the brightest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N!” He says, clearly pleased, “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t think our paths would cross until the next race.”

“Yeah?” You eke out, “Me neither, actually. Strange how things happen like that.”

Strange like friends with overly aggressive relationship advice. You’re certain that if you turned around now, you’d see her peering through the window in her door like some kind of stalker.

Charles nods. “I’m glad to see you, though. Did you notice that the last video did really well? I think that means you have to come around more often. You know, it’s what the fans want.”

“Speaking of the fans,” you say, “I happened to read through the comments and a lot of them seemed to think that you were flirting with me.”

You swear you can see Charles’ confidence fall in a flash. “What?” He protests a little too quickly, “that’s crazy. That’s, uh, really crazy.”

You nod. “That’s what I thought, but, on the off chance that you were flirting, I wouldn’t mind it.”

A small spark of hope forms in his eyes. “You wouldn’t?”

“I wouldn’t,” you decide at last, “because I like you too. If you like me, that is, and it wasn’t too crazy of me to say that.”

He’s laughing now, and you– well, you really do like him, you do, and something about seeing the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle up when he smiles makes you think at last about how long you have liked him, all the ways you realized you loved him but never admitted it to yourself.

“Alright,” he says, “Maybe it wasn’t too crazy after all.”

A pause, then:  “This does mean that you’ll be coming around more often, right?”

You smile. “Yes, Charles, I think it does.”

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 charles #f1 charles imagines #f1 charles x reader #f1 charles oneshot

[martian-astro]

Solar return observations

(the panda in the back is me)

Aries ascendant is a very strong indicator of getting into sports that year, and I don't mean gym, I mean sports. (the year I had this, I started fencing and muay Thai, one of my friend had this in 2022 and she joined a basketball club)

So I have moon in pisces in 1st this year, and sometimes things get really overwhelming and swimming helps a lot. Just trust me on this one, if you have moon in cancer, pisces or scorpio, go for a swim.

I just saw that the year my sister got a dog, she had saturn in 6th house, it shows that you'll have to be responsible for an animal, may adopt a pet, and she had to take the dog on walks so even her health got a lot better.

Mars conjunct or in the same house as Venus Is another placement that I've been seeing in a lot of solar return charts this year. (the house that it's in tells you the area in which you are very passionate and loving, my sister has this in her 10th this year, and she's very focused on her career and is spending a lot of time in making a good portfolio)

Moon in 8th is a really good placement if you wanna pursue a career as a Psychologist, researcher, detective, etc. (if you've been studying it, and are looking for a job then you're more likely to get hired)

Uranus in 2nd is a strong sign of starting to earn money unconventionally, my tarot reader friends all had this placement the year they started doing paid readings and tarot/astrology is not really considered to be a good career, so kind of taboo.

Jupiter in 5th is a good year to invest in the stock market (Jupiter shouldn't be in retrograde), one of my mother's friend had it this year and she gained a lot of money. (Just because you have it doesn't mean you should be irresponsible with your money, be smart)

Sun in 3rd is a good year to participate in clubs and if there's a leadership position open in school, college, or workplace, then sign up for it, and don't hesitate to express your opinions, if you're in college/school, then speak up in class, share your thoughts with your classmates, you won't regret it

Pluto in 8th is a painful placement, one of my very close friend has it this year and.... She's going through it. (She is unable to focus in class, her roommate is unhygienic, her boyfriend stole €600 from her and ran away, her parents asked her for her savings so they could keep it safe, she had €11,000 and they spent it all to send her brother to Canada.... Yeah) if you have this, I'm sorry, just take this 🫂, and DON'T TRUST ANYONE when you have it in your SR

Moon conjunct saturn can be the year when you become more mature, you learn how to control your emotions and deal with your problems like an adult. Many people start a new phase of their life when they have it, like moving out of your house, starting to live alone, earning money, entering the workforce, getting married and other life changing things can happen that year

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

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