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blues824 · 7 months ago

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Here's something a bit weird.

Could I request Headcanons of Azul, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia with a cute female vampire squid mermaid? But here's a twist, she's a half-vampire and half-vampire squid mermaid, making her a vampire-vampire squid mermaid. Does that make sense?

ColorMyTree is open! Feel free to leave a message on my Christmas tree. It’s free, so no money required. I also set it so that you don’t have to log in.

Fem! Reader who is half-vampire, half-vampire squid. Got it. Also, I kind of made Reader goth…? Or at least vampire-goth-esque, if that makes sense. Reader is not Yuu.

Azul Ashengrotto

It was a school exchange program where some girls were coming to NRC in exchange for some boys going to your school. Being a mermaid, you were put into Octavinelle, and Azul promised that he would show you around.

You both were chilling in the water tank that is Octavinelle when he finally saw what your tail looked like… tentacles? Whatever they are. It looked like a gothic skirt, to be honest… and Azul is very much into goth girls (please help him. He’s a virgin and doesn’t know what he’s doing. The only other girl he’s talked to was his mom).

That all aside, he noticed the fangs you had, as well as your aversion to daylight and the way that you constantly ate red meat and called yourself ‘vegetarian’. So… he asked the big question… are you a vampire? You smiled and nodded… and Azul nearly folded when he saw your fangs exposed.

As time went on, you both grew closer. The days turns into weeks, and you were both attached at the hip. The tweels noticed that their boss was on his phone a lot… especially considering you were a year below him so you had different class schedules than each other and you liked to text during class when you finished your work.

One day… mysteriously… Azul was using a larger scarf than normal. The tweels immediately clocked this and Floyd pulled the scarf off to reveal that he had what looked like snakebites on his neck. They immediately knew that the bitemarks were from you, and they teased him relentlessly for it.

Vil Schoenheit

What originally caught his attention was your unique sense of style. You were very gothic in style, and he has only really had the opportunity to interact with gothic stars while on press-tours for films he was in… or for music videos he volunteered for.

That being said, he was a bit upset that you were housed in Octavinelle. Luckily for him, though, you were interested in joining the Film Research Club. Unfortunately, he had an overload of actors, so he asked if you would be fine with being backstage somehow. You accepted, and you actually ran the cameras instead. Look at you, Ms. Lydia Deetz!

This led to you both growing closer as he went up to talk to you about… well… you. You told him that you were a vampire as well as a mermaid… and a rather unique one like Azul. You showed him a picture you took with your waterproof phone of your form, and he was very intrigued.

Rook and Epel noticed that the Housewarden focused his attention on you. Nearly everyone at NRC as well as around Twisted Wonderland saw that he posted a new reel, and you both were at his vanity, switching your aesthetics. Vil put you in some clothes that matched him, and then you raided his wardrobe so you could dress him up as a goth doll.

There was a close-up of you both doing each other’s makeup… and Vil has a lot of makeup skills. However, his fans noticed that there were two dots on his neck underneath all of the foundation, concealer, and powder he used to cover it. They also noticed your fangs, and the crowd went absolutely wild for it. Needless to say, you both had a ship name five minutes after the video was posted.

Malleus Draconia

When he heard that NRC was doing a collaboration with an all-girls college, he was intrigued about how this would go. How did Headmaster Crowley come up with all these ideas? However, as he was watching the girls in the mirror room introduce themselves… there was one that stood out from the crowd: you. You were dressed in a very… medieval goth way.

You actually talked to him about joining his club while you were at NRC, as you found gargoyles and medieval architecture very intriguing. When I tell you that this man was so happy… he was very willing to accept your request, and you went on your first walk that day.

That was the start of something very interesting. You both preferred the nighttime, and you told him it was because you were half-vampire as well as half-vampire squid, so you were used to living in darker waters at deeper levels. He was just fascinated by you… and the fact that you dressed like someone from Briar Valley.

The rest of the Diasomnia squad noticed how their beloved Crowned Prince was spending time with this mermaid a lot, which caused you to go through a thorough interrogation by Sebek, a normal greeting by Silver, and a plead to carry Malleus’s offspring by Lilia. Needless to say, you passed all of their tests… especially since Malleus had a visible bitemark from you that he proudly displayed on his neck.

When you had to return back to your school, you left Malleus with a bunch of black lipstick marks all over his face. Since you knew he wasn’t very tech-savvy, you often either sent letters via a raven or a crow, or you texted Lilia to tell Malleus something. The bat-fae was more than happy to be your messenger, especially since he was reporting back to Queen Maleficia about the progress in her grandson’s love life.

Lilia Vanrouge

All of Diasomnia joined the other dorms as they made their way to the mirror room to welcome the temporary female exchange students. Of course, he was originally there to make sure that Malleus was in-attendance. However, you caught the former general’s attention. You were dressed in a way that people back in Briar Valley dressed… how interesting.

Over the next few days, he has kind of stalked you a bit. However, due to your enhanced senses as a vampire, you could hear the blood running through his veins. That was when he realized you were a vampire… if the fangs weren’t already a dead giveaway. However, as you refilled your water bottle, you informed him that you were ‘vampire vegetarian’, meaning you only ate animal meat. Also, you informed him that you were staying in Octavinelle since you were a vampire squid mermaid.

This intrigued him, and you were intrigued by him as well. After all, it’s not everyday that you meet a 700-year-old former general from Briar Valley. So… this led to a few hangouts both in-town and on-campus at the Mostro Lounge… until dorm visits grew common. Of course, you would have to visit his dorm, since that’s where you would get the most privacy.

Silver nearly threw up when he saw that his father ‘mysteriously’ had a bitemark on his neck. He didn’t want to know what Lilia was up to in his spare time… nor did he want to imagine the implications that came with you dating his father. However, he soon settled down when he saw that you knew how to cook. Maybe you weren’t so bad after all?

That all aside, you were sad to leave your boyfriend and your newfound son behind at NRC as you went back to your own school. However, you left some leftovers for Silver as well as a few recipes for the rest of the dorm, and pleaded with Lilia to just follow the recipe you gave him.

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lnbeep-art · 1 month ago

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On Duty time! It’s so dumb but I love the little waterproof bandana that mermaids wear when they’re on the clock working too alongside the divers/aquarium staff ashsksnsk

Have to have those educational sessions for those who visit the Aquarium—lots of collaborative teaching and activity sessions. I like to imagine this replaces whatever areas that were setups for dolphin or orca shows of the past. Great field trip time for classes of all ages tho~

As always: Ougi is my bf’s OC!

#lnbeep art #giant and tiny #g/t #giant tiny #giant/tiny #sfw gt #size difference #oc: mii #oc: mii and ougi #aquarium!au #i really do love her with pink hair sm god

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mo-mode · 1 year ago

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Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.

(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)

(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.

What if there were oil diffusers?

So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.

Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)

Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.

Onto Thursday.

Consider: A watch.

What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?

Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.

It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.

(It’s so easy. I promise.)

While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)

And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.

“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”

That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!

Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.

It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!

The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???

There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.

Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.

It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.

But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING

Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.

Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please

#THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #I swear I can be so helpful Rick #hire me #i’m a screenwriter i promise i’m legit #btw this is NOT an opportunity to say you hate the show in the notes I will find you #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #percy jackson tv show #pjo spoilers #percy jackson the lightning thief #pjo series #screenwriting #grover underwood #annabeth chase #hermes

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bagofshinyrocks · 2 years ago

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Snow Angels... Kinda

Prompt: Simon is sent outside to shovel the snow from the driveway, and the little one joins him. Whether or not he's of help to his dad is another matter entirely. [Requested by @ertepla]

Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Spouse!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: expletives

Simon was usually the monument of speed and efficiency. Grocery store runs were completed in less than ten minutes, didn’t even need to call you for clarification. Could get dressed in all his winter attire in about 2 minutes, starting in pajamas and ending in what you called a tactical marshmallow. And the snow in the driveway stood no chance once he whipped out the shovel.

Except when it came to your son.

He had to set a timer when it was time for the boy’s baths, otherwise he and the one-and-a-half-year-old would spend an hour splashing and dunking toys.

Making dinner was still speedy, but if your son was strapped to his chest, both of them would get distracted. The boy would try to stick his hands in everything, and Simon would let him.

“He’ll be pissed off if I don’t let him eat plain flour, and he’ll be pissed off if I do let him. In one of these cases, he’ll learn that he doesn’t like plain flour.”

The little shit kept eating plain flour.

And even if Simon did everything wrong when distracted by your baby (not that he ever did, the perfect bastard), you’d never wish it any different. The gentle side of him was one of your favorite parts of him, and your son had never seen any other.

The pediatrician noted that your baby knew a good many more words than the average kid his age, and you (to Simon’s embarrassment) chalked it up to how much Simon spoke to him.

You heard the rustling of Simon’s winter gear, and immediately your son perked up.

“Dada?” he shouted.

More rustling and Simon looked in the doorway.

“Wassit, munchkin?”

You watched as the boy scrambled towards him, giggling.

“Do you want to help Dada with the snow?” you cooed, beaming.

Simon scooped him up and plastered his face in kisses. “Aw, little man’s always so helpful.” He glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. “But it’s almost his bedtime, innit? Alright if he comes with me?”

“Please. Tire him out so he’ll go to sleep.”

Simon chuckled and gave the boy a little toss in the air. “Let’s get you all bundled up, yeah?”

Simon took his time to bundle the boy up, with a sweater, a waterproof snowsuit, boots, a hat, a scarf, and mittens. The boy could barely walk in shoes, and you imagined there would be a lot of snow piles with a baby-shaped belly flop.

Simon would get two or three shovelfuls worth of snow into a pile, and then pause to see what the baby was doing. Putting snow in his mouth, and then spitting it out and whining at the temperature. Climbing up or sitting down in the piles. Trying to take the shovel from his dad.

Your husband sat the boy on the blade of the shovel and skidded him along the driveway. You could hear both of them laughing from inside.

Simon was about halfway through when your son tried walking again. Leaning onto furniture worked, but leaning into piles of unpacked snow was not helpful. With a squawk, he fell sideways into a pile.

Your husband turned at the squawk and belly laughed at the scene. Two kicking legs and nothing else.

He walked over and grabbed one of the flailing limbs. The boy’s snowy face came into view as Simon lifted him out of the pile with one hand, dusting him off a bit with the other.

Normally, a baby would cry. But his dad was laughing and asking his son cheerfully about what he was doing. And so the boy laughed and squealed and clapped his mittened hands.

“Simon Riley,” you hollered from the kitchen window.

He turned with a grin and gave the boy a little swing.

“Don’t you dare drop my damn baby.”

Simon pretended to do so, lowering the boy, and then pulling him back up. Then lowering him, then pulling him back up. Both of them laughed and laughed, and you pretended to gasp each time.

An hour later, the boy was fast asleep in his crib.

“Aw, he snores just like you,” teased Simon.

You swatted him. “Piss off. Good thing it’s not like yours, or the whole neighborhood would hate us.”

The two of you left the nursery and went to your own bedroom, where two heating pads lay in your respective spots.

You crawled into bed with a quiet sigh, and Simon did so with a loud series of groans and grumbles. You kicked his thigh.

“You’ve been a dad for a year and a half and you already sound like one.”

“Hell you talkin’ about?”

You imitated the noises he made earlier right in his face, and he covered your face with a pillow.

“My fuckin’ back hurts.”

“The baby’s that heavy that you hurt your back?”

“What? Nah, he’s easy to carry. Could throw him 50 meters. No, the snow is heavy.” He sighed and settled on his back, letting you curl up around him. “And I’m an old man, now, lovie.”

You hummed and closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest through his shirt and the steady beat of his heart. Then his chest jerked up and down rapidly with a chuckle, and you opened an eye in faux annoyance.

“Sorry, lovie, just remembering how he ate shit in the driveway.”

You both snickered at the Loony Tunes-type scene from earlier.

“The driveway is clear, but all the ground around it has his belly-flops and face-plants.”

“They’re snow angels, honey.”

A fresh bout of laughter at the comparison.

Posted: 2023 Dec 11

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 fluff

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theroundbartable · 3 months ago

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Still doing fucked up tropes? …I realized I don’t actually know what a trope is. Can you fuck up “my sister asked me to get a date for her wedding so I don’t look like a loser” is that a trope

Yes :) if I can.

So, a trope is originally a term of literature studies. In fandom circles it basically refers to a standard story line. Or, if you so will, summing up a story in one sentence. It's more placative than 'genre' tho.

If that isn't helping, you're doing it exactly right:) my brain cannot, however, follow simple instructions, so let's go ^^

"And then we went hiking in the mountain -" She was talking animately, her hands flying wildly around her smiling face. She was pretty, Arthur mused, his chin propped up on his hand in a faint attempt to seem interested. Brown hair, tied to a fancy bun, cheeks flushed from the wine they had been drinking and lips red from some magically waterproof lipstick. However, Arthur had lost the red string of this conversation about an hour ago. And to be honest, he wasn't quite sure he remembered her name correctly.

Couldn't they hand him the bill already?

The thing was, Arthur hadn't been interested in a date to begin with. He'd said as much in the chat when she texted him on tinder, but apparently, she had some sort of illusion that she had a chance with him anyway. She'd mentioned something of 'roommates' and 'fake relationship' with a loaded voice. Loaded with anticipation and a strange excitement that Arthur simply did not share.

'You have to have a date,' Morgana had insisted. 'I can't have my first man come without a date! I'd look like my brother was a loser!' Since Gwen had proposed to Morgana, she'd been insufferable, pulling him from cake testing to dress shopping and back because she'd changed her mind about the flower arrangements. She was a monster. And Arthur was her victim. And apparently, her tyranny extended to his personal love life. Which is how he ended up here, wasting a perfect Thursday afternoon with expensive food and wine for a stranger who did not intend to pay their share.

"Are you even listening?" The woman's smile had dropped to disappointment.

Arthur blinked, half in trance. "What? No, sorry. Are you alright with the plan?" He'd asked her that about - his eyes glanced to the clock right above the fancy aquarium - gods above - two hours ago. She'd started answering, going on a tangent and somehow landed on her hiking trip where she found an ocean fossile.

She stared at him, brows drawn in anger. Without giving him her final answer, she scoffed, grabbed her purse and yapped something about politeness and stalked off, leaving Arthur behind with the feeling that that reaction was entirely deserved.

Arthur rubbed his face with a sigh and raised his hand to pay the bill. What was supposed to have been a small exchange about what to do and expect on a wedding, ended in the 27th failed attempt to score a date in the past 43 days. Arthur rubbed his eyes once more after he'd paid and ventured out into the cold London air.

"I'm never going to score a date." He said to himself, sighing desperately. He only had two more weeks to set everything up. In the beginning, it had sounded so simple. Just make a match, or ask a friend and show up with a platonic date or something of the sort. Morgana didn't ask for much more than that. She didn't expect him to be perfectly in love and half on his way to his own marriage. Just a date, that's all she'd asked.

Unfortunately, they all had the same friends, most of them were in a relationship, which were their dates to the same wedding, and those who weren't were apparently too busy to make it... or worse, were related to him. Arthur shuddered at the thought of asking aunt Tracy for a dance. (Which was obligatory, no matter what who he showed up with.)

A loud clattering sound interrupted his thoughts, drawing his eyes to a supposedly empty alley behind the restaurant. Curious, and not too fond of his life (he was a white cis man, why would he be afraid of dark alleys in the middle of the night?) Arthur stepped towards the sound. "Hello?" Every critic, every stupid comment he'd thrown at horror movie characters summed up in his head, asking him if he was completely fucking stupid.

There, were the restaurant kept containers full of food waste, was a man. By the looks of it, he was likely homeless. He was wearing a thick heavy looking jacket that hid most of his frame. His hair, curly and black was hidden underneath a beanie and his dirty fingers clutched around a half eaten chicken wing that he ate over a ragged looking scarf around his neck. The man swirled around at the sound, looking like a startled stoat, revealing a slightly crooked nose and nearly black looking eyes that reflected golden in the sensory activated light near the door.

"Ts not what it looks like." Said the man casually through a bite. Arthur's eyes fell to the giant bag on the floor next to the man, which likely contained everything he owned. It was exactly what it looked like.

"You look like you're stealing food." Arthur commented, feeling a little irritated at the odd introduction.

"Ts not stealing if they threw it away." He bit into another piece of cold meat. '-sides, stealin' food when you're hungry is legal.'

"Only in war times." Arthur commented, his half semester of law studies ringing awkwardly in his head.

"Oh?" The man raised a brow, ignoring him. "You gonna call the police now?" The man cackled. "'m not on drugs, ya know? Not drunk either. Can't hold me for very long.' A normal homeless man would have long run from him, Arthur mused.

This could be interesting.

Arthur's eyes fell on the high cheekbones, reflecting the smudge on it in the light. Showered and dressed properly, this man could look really good, Arthur thought by himself. Maybe...

"Are you interested in a deal?"

The man raised his brow in quite suspicion. "Depends on what the deal is."

Arthur took a look at the cold food in the man's arm. "How about we discuss this inside?" He pointed back at the restaurant where he'd come from. "I'm sure it tastes much better inside."

"I don't think it's allowed to take food inside." the man frowned, making Arthur laugh a little.

"What's your name?" Arthur asked, genuinely interested now.

"Who wants to know?"

"If you agree, your date for my sister's wedding." Arthur explained slowly. "My name is Arthur." He stretched out his hand.

"Will there be cake?" The man asked, eyes widening slightly, not sounding like this proposal was the oddest thing he'd heard all day.

"You won't have time for the cake with all the other stuff you can eat." Arthur responded, hoping to lure him in. "And you can take lunch bags." He added, knowing this would see the idea further.

"If there is a cake, then there is a Merlin." Finally, the man grabbed Arthur's hand and shook it, eyes brighter now that they were eye to eye.

This was going to be very interesting indeed.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #arthur #concept #my writing #drabble

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officialaemondtargaryen · 1 year ago

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Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it.

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something.

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?”

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down.

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs.

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen?

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides.

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes.

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?”

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table.

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about.

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question.

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand.

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway.

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family.

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back.

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging.

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose.

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit.

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.”

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre.

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’.

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway.

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college.

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.”

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile.

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly.

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

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iron-rose-art · 9 months ago

Text

Monty thoughts haunting me at 2am

God I love this gator (reupload bc last one was posted by accident)

Monty with a plus size y/n

Where both of you aren't accepted by people around you because of how you look. Where there are already predisposition thoughts about you from things you have no say in.

Where you've been hurt by people in the past. Where there's a gnawing thought in the back of your head that people are judging you, even at your best.

But you won't let that stop you from enjoying living in your body.

When you're off the clock, you wear what you want to wear and fuck anyone that tries to police you on how to live your life. You wear clothes you know you look good in and if someone doesn't like it, that's a them problem.

Listen I just love the idea of you being known as a "good employee" because of your professionalism and how you've perfected the customer service voice

But as soon as you've stepped out of the Plex, you have a "take no shit" attitude

And holy shit if that doesn't get him hooked on you 🐊

Monty with a YN with tattoos

He saw them by accident.

You've been cleaning up Gator Golf and been told to retrieve the golf balls that had gotten lost in the water. He can easily get them, but he wasn't the type to offer help and you didn't know he was waterproof.

So he lazily watched you scoop up the golf balls with a nest where he knew you couldn't see him. It's the most entertainment he'll get around here anyways.

You huff when a few stubborn golf balls refuse to get in the net. So you scoop what you have, put them to the side, kneel down and roll up the sleeves to your uniform.

Giving him a view of your tattoos. Ink decorating halfway up your forearm (where the sleeves of your uniform usually rested) and no doubt trailing up the rest of your arms.

Suddenly he is much more interested in you, the worker that keeps to yourself.. and if you're asked to do more tasks in Gator Golf after yard day, you just consider yourself lucky since it's one of your favorite places in the Plex

Monty with a YN that wears glasses

This one is a little silly but think about it, he's the only animatronic that wears glasses and his glasses are a key part of his design

There's a certain.. respect some could say, you have to his things. Especially his glasses.

If they get lost because some kid thought they were a toy, you bring them back to him. And it's cute when he helps the kids gain more confidence whenever they're feeling self conscious about wearing glasses

Feel free to add on because I love talking about him <3

#montgomery gator #monty x y/n #monty gator x reader #glamrock monty #montgomery gator x y/n #fnaf x reader #fnafsb x reader #plus size reader #monty fnaf #fnaf monty #monty gator #THIS IS SELF INDULGENT AS FUCK

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asilentguardian · 6 months ago

Text

Rituals

also on ao3

Gotham isn’t quiet when it rains.

Most cities slow down, become near empty, when rain is pouring from the sky. But Gotham continues, despite the rain mixing with the rot of the city and bathing the streets in the smell of mildew and seafood. Despite the streets that always flood, roads built on old rivers and inlets. People have jobs to do, families to protect. It becomes easier to hide, to exchange money and drugs and guns in the cover of rain clouds and the water rushing towards the sewers.

Gotham isn’t quiet, so neither are the Bats.

They’re built for this. All of them live and breathe with the city, they’ve grown up here and the city has grown around them. Rain doesn’t deter them, and waterproof and insulated armor shields them against the rest of it.

The feeling of raindrops pelting his cowl keeps Bruce grounded as he stands over the city. The others–just Damian and Cass tonight–are already steadily making their way home, swinging across rooftops and dipping down to the streets when they spot someone in need. But Bruce stays here, standing and watching as the night creeps into dawn and the night shifts give way to the morning shifts. It’s become a ritual, of sorts.

Down on the streets, the city becomes a jagged, haphazard array of the various shades of horrible things people are capable of. Every block can feel like a new, solitary ecosystem of politics and gangs and survival. But up here, on a tall roof in the outer edges of Gotham, the city becomes the living, breathing thing that Bruce knows it to be. Sometimes, if he’s still enough, Bruce swears he can feel the pulse of it. He can feel the cars speeding down Murphy Avenue, he can feel the quick steps of morning runners in the Diamond District, the shuffling through Park Row, the fear, the anger, the sadness, the hope.

He tries not to examine this too closely.

The rain drowns out any hope of feeling it tonight, anyways. Street lights in the distance begin to flicker off, and Bruce takes that as his queue to follow his kids home. He slides down the ladder on the side of the building, down the stairs, and off the shortest ledge into the alley where he left his bike. The rain has begun to let up, but he still fits his goggles over his eyes.

The ride back to the manor is always quiet at this hour, no one braving the empty roads before the sun peeks over the horizon. Bruce doesn’t pass Damian or Cass on the way there, quiet check-ins on the comms telling him they’re already home, probably eagerly peeling off their armor and racing towards Alfred’s hot chocolate. On nights like tonight, where the rain is constant and cold, even Bruce doesn’t bother with proper reports or storing his gear. Sweating in the cold rain of Gotham is a different kind of hell, and a warm bed is all that’s on all of their minds.

Bruce rumbles into a predictably empty cave, quickly parking his bike next to Cass’ and shutting it off. He pushes back his cowl and sits for a moment. This, too, is a ritual. The cave is never really quiet. The hum of computers and machines, the roar of a waterfall, the chittering of bats. The background noise never changes. It’s too far underground for the sound of rain or thunder or footsteps to reach. There could be a full house upstairs, and you’d never know.

There’s no one around to hear the way Bruce grunts as he pushes himself off the bike. His bones creak, his muscles protest, and his back reminds him just how cold it was tonight. He’s getting old. Here, where there’s a myriad of evidence of his children, the thought doesn’t scare him as much as it used to.

His bed is just a few hundred feet away, but he’s still careful to put his armor in a vaguely neat pile, still starts uploading the night's footage before he makes his way to the elevator. Bruce pushes the grandfather clock aside to an empty, but warm, sitting room. The warmth of the house slowly begins to chase away the chill in his body, and Bruce gently replaces the clock and heads to his first stop of this third ritual; the kitchen.

The light is brighter in here, but still warm and easy on eyes that have spent hours in the shadows. Cass and Damian sit at the counter, their mugs in front of them. Damian is half asleep against Cass’s shoulder, and, despite the concern Bruce feels, there’s a burst of pride that makes its way through his chest. Damian has had a rough time adjusting, but he’s come so far with all of them.

Cass’ eyes snap to Bruce as he enters, still alert and fully awake. Bruce knows that she usually doesn’t sleep after she patrols, that she can’t, most times. He used to worry about it, but she insists that the time to herself is helpful, that she uses it to recharge. He tries to trust her on that.

Bruce nods towards Damian. Is he okay?

Cass gives him a sheepish smile and nods.

“Raced to the bike,” she whispers. Bruce sighs. He has long since given up the battle of preventing his children from making a competition or game out of patrol. It always exhausts them, always causes squabbles. But it keeps them young, keeps laughter ringing through the comms, and brings smiles to their faces. It was never a battle he would win.

He still snatches a sip from Cass’ mug in retaliation. She glares at him after he returns it, wrapping a protective arm around her mug and Damian’s. Bruce chuckles, ruffles her hair and lightly touches Damian’s shoulder before moving to the next stop. Damian lets out a vague mumble. Cass will deposit him in his bed eventually, after their own post-patrol rituals. Present and accounted for.

The stairs to the second floor have always creaked and groaned, even when Bruce was young. The only difference now is the loose third step, evidence of a young and energetic Dick Grayson and a Bruce who didn’t know how to handle all of that energy. He carefully skips that step, making a note to fix it, which he will forget to do as always. He makes his way down an equally old hallway, deftly avoiding the noisy floorboards. He has less stops to make than usual tonight, the manor a little emptier, a little quieter. Closer and closer to an empty nest, as Alfred would say.

Dick’s room is empty, and so is Jason’s. He still places his hand on their door frames, marking his progress. Tim’s door is cracked, his lights off–thank god–and his sheets a chaotic mess around him. He never stops moving, even in his sleep. Cass’ door is open, light spilling into the hallway. Her closet door flung aside and the Black Bat uniform on the floor amongst various other clothes. Bruce rolls his eyes and collects the pieces, tucking them away from view. Its displacement will be reprimand enough. He can never properly scold her for feeling comfortable enough to do it, anyways.

Duke’s door is firmly closed, and he’s a light sleeper, so Bruce settles with pressing his ear against the door, waiting until he hears Duke’s light snores before he moves on. He’ll lay eyes on him in the afternoon, he reminds himself. Damian’s door is open, too, revealing a much neater chaos than Cass’ room. There are piles everywhere, books and sketch pads and games all in places that only make sense to Damian. Titus lifts his massive head and wags his tail as he spots Bruce, but remains curled up on Damian’s bed. Bruce gives him a scratch behind his ears before moving on to his last stop.

He passes the door to his room—still firmly closed—towards Alfred’s door. It’s wide open, as it usually is. Alfred is sitting upright in his bed, book open in his lap and glasses perched on his nose. The sheets are still the same ones from Bruce’s childhood, though they’ve since faded. Bruce still remembers how it feels to be cocooned within them, to have them and Alfred be the last and strongest defenses against the rest of the world. Alfred looks up, still able to sense the barest bit of movement in a way that eludes Bruce, and quietly shuts his novel. They’re both silent for a moment, taking the other in.

“Go to bed, Bruce,” Alfred says, as he always does.

“Only after you do,” Bruce always replies. It used to be a longer conversation, and before that it was a heated argument. It used to grate on his nerves, the way Alfred would sit and wait for him in those first few years. He took it as silent judgement, or worse, distrust. Bruce would demand he just go to bed, would snap at him in a way that made him feel 16 years old again. Alfred never budged. And then Bruce became a father, and he understood. Still, in the back of his mind, a distant worry. If Bruce is getting old, what does that make Alfred? Alfred would not approve of that line of thinking, so he’s never voiced it aloud.

Bruce’s father smiles at him and Bruce nods back, softly shutting the door behind himself as he leaves. He retraces his steps to his own door and stops in front of it. Breathes in, and breathes out, tries to shed the worry and anxiety of empty rooms. It gets easier every night. It gets harder every year.

Bruce pushes his door open and stops. Shifts a few things around in his head. Takes a moment to rearrange his routine.

Hal Jordan, ever present wrench in his plans, is asleep in his bed. Home early, which could be a good thing or a bad thing, and curled up on the side furthest from the door. He came in through the window, if the trail of clothes is anything to go off of. Bruce picks them up and tosses them in the hamper, trying not to be overly annoyed about it.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of Hal, safe here in his bed, before he slips into the bathroom. His clothes are shed quickly, pointedly tossed into a hamper. The walls are thick enough that the shower shouldn’t wake Hal, but Bruce still moves through the motions with brutal efficiency, scrubbing away mud and sweat and the last of the cold Gotham air clinging to his body.

The steady pelting of the shower grounds him in a way that the cold rain doesn’t. Here, it’s soft and warm. If Bruce stays here long enough, he’ll feel a different pulse underneath his feet and in his chest. Steady breathing in and out, the pitter-patter of four-legged creatures, the settling of a centuries-old house. This, too, Bruce doesn’t examine too closely.

Bruce shuts the water off and dries himself with a towel, continuing to move through the familiar rhythm of his routine. He exits the bathroom and blindly grabs a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, a lifetime of children at his door dissuading him from jumping straight under the sheets.

He carefully pulls on the pants, distantly registering the Ferris Air logo down the sides, before turning towards his bed. Hal is now facing him, brown eyes silently watching Bruce. Bruce doesn’t bother suppressing a soft smile as he makes his way over and crawls under the covers as Hal lifts them up. Bruce settles in, and Hal drops the covers.

“Hi,” Hal whispers. Bruce clings onto that single word, already picking it apart from every angle, trying to determine how Hal’s feeling, where his head is.

“Hi,” Bruce whispers back, still watching Hal’s face, still searching for any changes. Hal reaches out and rests his hand on Bruce’s face, his thumb tracing his brow, his cheekbone, his lips. Bruce catches his hand, presses a kiss to his palm, and intertwines their fingers.

“Okay?” Bruce asks. A single word, a compromise between silence and a veritable interrogation. Another product of well worn arguments. Hal’s answering smile is soft. Fond.

“Yeah. You?” Hal asks. An admission of the same fears. A lot can happen in just a few days.

“Yeah,” Bruce responds. Hal tugs on their joined hands, and Bruce shuffles closer, bodies slotting together. Their lips meet, and the last piece of Bruce shifts into place. His muscles relax, starting at every point of contact between him and Hal. Hal’s lips shift to his jaw, his cheek, his forehead, and Bruce’s eyes drift shut.

“Sleep, baby,” Hal whispers into his hair. Bruce hums an acknowledgement and lets the warmth of Hal pull him under, lets the hand caressing his neck lull him towards sleep.

-----

Awareness comes quicker than sleep, a habit Bruce doesn’t think he can ever get away from. It’s a trait that he foolishly hopes his children didn’t pick up. He knows better.

His mind is quick to catalog his surroundings. The bed beside him is empty, but warm, recently vacated. The light streaming through the window means it’s at least 11, six hours of sleep more than Bruce had expected. The rain has passed. The door is slightly ajar, and the laundry hamper is missing. Bruce huffs a laugh. Message received and heard.

Bruce lets himself be sluggish in his movements. He slides to the edge of the bed and checks his phone. No urgent notifications or alerts about the end of the world, so Bruce braves a glance at the perpetually-muted family group chat. A slew of incomprehensible jokes and minor arguments. A good morning dweebs from Dick, sent two hours ago. A middle finger emoji from Jason in response. Accounted for.

The most recent text is a picture from Tim of Alfred the Cat sitting on his laptop, captioned come get your spy dami. He taps out a quick reply.

Bruce: Good cat.

There's an onslaught of reactions and responses, and Bruce is quick to shut off his phone.

He finally gets up, finds a sweatshirt that he’s pretty sure is his, and exits his room. A glance at Alfred’s door, open and room empty as anticipated.

Damian’s room, empty of the boy and the dog. Duke’s room, also empty, but with a perfectly made bed. Cass’ room, empty with a closet door pointedly closed. Tim’s room, occupied.

Bruce pauses and taps on the door frame. Tim glances up from his desk, free of its feline occupant, who has made himself comfortable in Tim’s lap. Tim, present and accounted for, healthy and not obviously injured.

“Good morning,” Bruce says, his voice still gravely from sleep. Tim grunts in acknowledgement, turning back to whatever more interesting thing he’s working on. Bruce shakes his head. Teenagers.

Jason’s room, empty. Dick’s room, empty. The floor creaks. The third stair is loose. The kitchen lights are brighter, there’s soft voices in the dining room. Bruce follows the noise.

Hal sits with his back to the doorway, facing Cass. He has Cass’ full attention as he tells a–likely exaggerated–version of his recent stint in space. He’s always been a wonderful storyteller, complete with impressions and sound effects. Bruce makes a conscious effort to make his steps audible and deliberate, not wanting to interrupt the story and stop the wonderful sound of Hal’s voice.

He drops a kiss on top of Hal’s head, rolling his eyes at Cass as she scrunches her nose and sticks her tongue out at them. Hal barely pauses the story, reaching up and squeezing Bruce’s hand.

Bruce sees the coffee on the far end of the table and gently flicks Cass’ forehead as he passes by. He lets the rhythm of Hal’s voice and Cass’ answering questions wash over him as he pours his coffee and takes his spot next to Hal, shifting so their knees rest against each other.

“But you made it? Everything is okay?” Cass is asking, voice serious despite Hal’s smile.

“As always, Miss Wayne,” Hal responds in an exaggerated voice vaguely reminiscent of Alfred’s accent.

“Hm,” Bruce responds. Hal sighs dramatically.

“I can’t catch a break with this guy,” Hal says to Cass, gesturing to Bruce. Cass giggles, a noise that will never fail to warm Bruce’s chest.

“I didn’t say anything,” Bruce responds, desperately hiding a smile behind a sip of coffee.

“You did though. That was your I disagree with you noise. I should know, I hear it often,” Hal insists. Bruce raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? And what other noises are you familiar with?” Bruce asks. Cass lets out a quiet ew, and Hal’s answering grin is wicked.

“This conversation is over now,” Duke says loudly as he enters from the kitchen, carrying a plate stacked with pancakes. Duke, present and accounted for, healthy and not obviously injured. Maybe a little bit stiff, but otherwise moving normally.

“Babies,” Hal says gleefully. Duke just flips him off and sits down to start eating. Bruce’s stomach rumbles loudly. Hal laughs softly and presses his knee a bit more firmly against Bruce’s.

“Go get food, Sleeping Beauty. Cass and I already got some,” Hal says, turning to look at Bruce.

“Damian?” Bruce asks. Hal doesn’t laugh, or poke fun at him, but his smile does turn slightly amused.

“Yeah, baby, he ate before us. Went to take Titus for a walk. Tim already ate, too,” Hal says. Bruce is a little startled at the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet, but nods jerkily anyways. He sets his coffee down and gives Duke another once over. Is he leaning more to his left? Hal nudges his knee harder, so Bruce gets up and heads for the kitchen.

“How’d the test go, Duke?” He hears Hal ask as he pushes through the door. He wasn’t aware Duke had a test, but his response seems positive so he lets it go.

Alfred is moving around the kitchen, cleaning and putting things away. A single, warm plate sits on the counter, pancakes made exactly like Bruce has always liked. Alfred glances over at him.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the finally is implied, “Eat your breakfast, Master Bruce,” Alfred says. Bruce’s lips twitch.

“Only after you do,” he responds. Alfred nods in acknowledgement, smiling. He finishes the tidying, grabbing his own plate from the oven. Bruce grabs his plate, but doesn’t head for the door yet. Alfred raises an eyebrow at him.

“Duke?” Bruce asks.

“Pulled a muscle, is all. Now quit worrying and go sit,” Alfred commands, no room for the follow up questions burning to get out. Bruce nods, resigned, and heads back to the dining room. He holds the door for Alfred and watches as he carefully lowers himself into his seat. Alfred notices his watching and glares at him.

“Sit,” Alfred says. It’s Bruce’s turn to sigh dramatically as he returns to his spot beside Hal, who smirks at him but wisely keeps the comment to himself. Their knees brush together again, and Hal rests a hand against his leg. A steady, grounding presence.

Bruce looks at Hal again, notes his relaxed posture, the laugh lines next to his eyes. He’s okay. He’s here. Present and accounted for, healthy and not obviously injured. Bruce nods to himself, reaches for his food.

“Plans for the day?” He asks Hal.

“Not a thing,” Hal responds. Bruce smiles.

#my stuff #my writing #batlantern #batfam #batdad #love a sentient gotham and a bruce who probably has powers but refuses to acknowledge it #also its a little bit implied but just in case #cw ptsd #cw ocd #bruce's rituals are compulsive #he's dealing

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oglobalmart · 2 years ago

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#Smart Watches 4G #Kids School Location #GPS-Tracker #Smart Video Camera #KT24S #Sim-Card #SOS #Clock #Baby #Waterproof #GPS Watch

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ronanceautistic · 2 months ago

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im ngl i had a friend once when i was like 14 who’s parents barely knew me but clearly clocked some kind of gender-bending in me because they had a pool but i was like “oh i don’t have a swimming costume” so they went out and bought me a costume that was essentially just waterproof t-shirt and shorts

they really said hey we’ve known you for an hour but we see you king no fem clothes for you

#AND WE LOVE THEM FOR IT #they also got me a really nice pair of pants

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ratsoh-writes · 23 days ago

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Even more crops and livestock!

Plants:

Jearbies: a prickly pink fruit growing on a magic cacti variety from Underwest! Jearbies are practically little pockets of sugar. They’re incredibly sweet and delicious having a sort of candy like taste to them. When eaten, they do make the very top layer of your skin peel off. So not too many can be eaten in one day. But they’re great for those with dry flaky skin!

Clown noses: a magical tomato found in the flavor factory and fallout AUs. The tomato’s are about fist sized and honk when you squeeze them lmao. Other than that they operate as normal tomatoes. They’re seedless however and can only be grown through clippings from another clown nose plant.

Clocksworth: this handsome dark umber pine tree boasts beige pine needles that have the tiniest tips of sage green. The tree has a strange wood pattern when chopped with geometric appearing rings inside the wood. Sort of like a clocks cogs. The wood is dense and sturdy making wonderful furniture, and the tree grows rapidly. Many loggers will replant this tree to replace the ones they chop down.

Straw-cherries: a magical cheery tree variety. The tree produces a straw yellow fruit that’s rather bland with a sort of oatmeal like taste. However it’s extremely nutritious and considered a wonderful super food for those fighting off infections as it naturally boosts the immune system, especially in humans. Straw cherries in ebott are mainly exported outside the country for a nice profit to human pharmaceuticals.

Waterfall emeralds: a magical vegetable similar to Brussel sprouts in appearance, but the plant is completely unrelated. The green sprouts are metallic looking and glow faintly when ripe. They are delicious grilled and pair well with savory dishes providing a wonderful crunchy texture. They are also a good source of iron and magnesium

Ice spice: a lichen found deep in the colder parts of the underground, and grows all over snowdin. This lichen is Snow White and difficult to differentiate from actual snow as it’s chilly and crunchy to the touch. It has a taste similar to habanero peppers and will make the skin steam slightly when eaten. It’s often used in itch relieving creams and salves but can be eaten in dishes as well.

Candle wicks: a type of reddish grass native to lamiatale. This plant when seeding will burst into harmless little orange flames. The fire is part of the process needed to melt the wax lining off of the seeds the grass produces. It never seems to spread to the surrounding vegetation. The grasses themselves aren’t eaten but are woven into waterproof baskets. The seeds can be ground into a sort of meal that is soaked and eaten like porridge.

Paisley maize: a tall crop native to all farm aus and similar looking to corn with a bumpy cob. The colors of the cob comes mostly in mismatched shades of red, but purple and wine colored varieties exist as well. The vegetable seems pretty normal until one takes a bite. Your vision becomes filled with the color of the cobs causing temporary blindness until the body fights off the weak chemical in the plant. Then your eye color matches the cob until its completely digested. Yes, the whites of the eyes as well. Kids have historically used paisley maize to try and fake pink eye to get out of chores and school lmao. Other than the color thing, it can be cooked and used in the same way as normal corn.

Roadkill plum: a large tree with sickly green grey wood and speckled pale green leaves, the roadkill plum tree is native to the sea aus and was one of the few dry land plants left on the old au. They were found speckled all over the few islands left and the treetops would be peeking out in the shallow parts of the ocean. The trees attract sick animals with a comforting scent, then feed off the inevitable corpses that pile up near its roots. The wood is very dense and water resistant making it perfect for boats or homes near the ocean. When well fed, the tree produces small yellow plums that provide a great source of iron. Monsters can eat the plums at any stage, but ripened ones are incredibly toxic to humans, like eating decayed meat.

Vinoliynes: a tan vine native to theatretale with soft orange and green leaves. it grows in bended curling shapes and when dried is quite stretchy and bendy. It's traditionally used to make string instruments and provides them with a unique tinkling trait to their sound. The vines are edible as well and when ingested make the eaters voice raise an octive for the day lol. They're commonly used in prank potions for this reason.

Candypop: a round podded bean plant growing on twisting vines, the candypop was cultivated in flavortale only before the crash. When ripe, the bean pods turn from a cute spring green to a bright bubblegum pink. The beans inside can be any color as long as its a pastel shade. They have a delicious vanilla like and fruity flavor but need sugar to sweeten them. They're a popular ingredient in sweets of course and are featured the most in in jelly/gummy candies.

Yggdrasil: a massive magical variety of the ash tree, the Yggdrasil was only found in the drake aus. These beautiful trees were symbols of many popular human religions and were seen as plants cultivated by lady magic herself to her devoted monster followers. The trees are absolutely ginormous with the largest one in ebott throwing away the world record for tallest tree by the California redwood. The trees in ebott are all connected through deep set roots undergound that search for then intwine with their "brothers". The wood of the trees is beautiful and sturdy but highly protected. The seeds of the tree can be eaten and are bitter and herby tasting. They are commonly used as sacrifices during holidays for lady magic and are dried and put on strings to be used as decor or jewelry.

Swamp-crawlers: large gnarled wooded bushes from grimmtale. The swamp crawlers will get up and walk around on their roots when their patch of ground isn't to their liking. They scavenge as well and often plant themselves near rotting wood or animal corpses. In the late summer, the swamp crawler grows tight clusters of lime green berries that taste a bit like pickled vegetables and have a rather high natural salt content for a plant. Covens that grow the plants often have a few members who’s full time job is chasing and lassoing escape artist swamp crawlers.

Rodwish: a magical turnip root plant only found in templetale. The rodwish has a tall brown stalk growing up to seven feet. On the tip is a cluster of earthy green leaves, all edible with a spinach taste. The root is the real prize though. The large bulbous turnip is a bright salmon pink and oozes an orange liquid when cut open. Its juicy, flavorful and unlike any other crop flavor. It tastes a bit strange to first timers, but most report that the aftertaste is very pleasant. Eating the turnip induces good dreams and is a key ingredient in mood stabilizers and sleep aid potions as well as a cooking ingredient thats steadily growing in popularity.

Holy Moly: a root found in all aus. Its beige in color and has an oval smooth shape. The leaves on top are lighter green and resemble grass. The holy moly dramatically increases the DF and AT stats right after consumption. Effects only last a minute or so. Its use is banned in any official dueling match, being caught with them can easily ruin someone's career. They have a carroty taste but don't do well with heat so are only eaten raw.

Milkfeed: a magical white grain from the farm aus. This plant is a cross between a magical reed and a standard wheat plant. Milkfeed needs lots of water to grow and is often planted alongside streams or ponds. Farms with lines of white milkfeed always means there's a stream or river on the property. Milkfeed when eaten replicates the milk of the eaters species when digested. Human mothers who cant breastfeed will blend the grain with formula to give their babies a boost, and the grain is also used in animal feed for baby animals.

Livestock:

Jelly bears: it’s actually not a bear but a rather large squishy looking grub. The pale grey grubs grow to be the size of goats when properly fed. They must be fed a diet of fruits and straw. They’re raised primarily for meat and are known to have a soft and sweet flesh. They’re a common ingredient in sausages, patties, ground meats, anything really that involves shaping.

Bug-a-Rolls: a two headed millipede from grimmtale and templetale! the bug is only 8 inches long and has a deadly venomous bite. They're a huge nuisance and will prey on smaller livestock, mice, rabbits, squirrels and even infants. Size doesn't scare them. Monsters will kill them when spotted. The bugs breed in the fall and lay their eggs in the millions in underground burrows protected by the hibernating parents. In spring, the babies feed on their parents then set out to sow evil lol. If a nest is found, the eggs sell for a high price to resturants. They're deliciously savory. The millipedes can also be cooked if you remove the venom sac first. They taste like pork when fried.

Mimics: a shapeshifting magical beetle, the mimic is a shy animal. They grow rapidly but tend to reach their limit when they get to the size of a coffee table. In order to feel secure, a mimic will find an object closest to its own size, then shapeshift into it, mimicking the texture color and shape. However carefully hidden in its disguise is a mouth full of teeth and a dozen small black eyes somewhere on the body. Mimics come from all aus and historically were kept and trained as prized pets, working animals and decor lol. They can be trained to copy an object the owner chooses. Farmers have used mimics to replicate tools, or designers to replicate a piece in a color or pattern of their choosing. They are skittish, so only recommended for experienced owners in low energy homes.

Sandlich: a magical variety of lobster with a grey shell. One piece of its natural armor over its head resembles a hood. The lobster is blind and gets around by feeling the currents of the ocean against its shell. When it feels threatened, it makes a horrid howling noise that is somehow even worse on land. It sounds like a tortured soul according to those who work with the animals. Anyways they taste absolutely delicious!

Zanders Mountain Cattle: a cow breed coined by the zander coven of farmgold. The cows have droopy ears and curled forward facing horns. They're huge, the size of rhinos and have thick armor like hides as well. The cows move slowly but are rather athletic able to climb up steep hills and rocks with ease. They are prized for meat milk and leather. While not the best in any category, they're certainly high quality in all three! While the cows aren't magical, they have a taste for magic and tend to unearth and eat any magic plants on the property if left to their own devices. Rancher has one of these cows in his mixed herd. Her name is bemouth.

Pineapple Crabs: found in all sea aus, there are wild and domesticated versions of this massive crab. The wild ones are insane, the size of boulders with ginormous claws that can crush fish, sharks stone and monsters with ease. The domesticated varieties are much more manageable. They only grow as big as pineapples and their shells are a cheery yellow hue hence how they got their name. These crabs are farmed for their roe. The females lay eggs year round in clusters reaching thousands in number. The males have to have their claws clipped off when young as they will try to pull off the ladies legs during the act. The crabs can also be eaten like a normal crab.

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #worldbuilding

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