#and no lint rollers on hand

[canisalbus]

Modern AU Machete keeps the local corner store afloat by buying their entire stock of lint rollers every so often.

Have you tried those white rabbit candies, by the way? Creamy, with rice paper wrapped around?

Hah, YES.

I have, in fact! They aren't widely sold here but some Asian grocery shops import them. The taste is delicious but it always kind of shocks me at first how hard they are, you just want to bite into them right away but you can't. Eating them is a very texturous experience.

The wrappers are gorgeous by the way, top tier packaging design.

[lale-txt]

deadlines and to-do’s so bad, my flat has never been cleaner

[ravenfeet222]

Thinking about Pitou stealing Pouf’s clothes to wear as pajamas and now Pouf is sitting there with all of his dark shirts covered in white cat hair, he’s gone through like 5 lint rollers and it’s not getting all of it off

[queenpiranhadon]

Okay so we all know Katsuki would absolutely be adorable with cats - like pretends to hate them but secretly loves them - but I need to see more of Katsuki with a big ass DOG

I imagine he and you start dating a little after he becomes a pro hero; he has a nice apartment - and he takes you to his place after going out for a few dates together.

You expect to just snuggle up on the couch and watch a nice movie, you know, the standard Netflix and chill.

What you don't expect however is to basically be tackled to the floor the moment Katsuki unlocks the door to his apartment, a huge mass of black fur crashing into you immediately.

You yelp, caught off guard, only to start laughing hysterically as a pink tongue darts out to lick at your face.

Katsuki groans, staring at his dog happily trying to lick your face off, running a palm down his face as his large callused hand tugs at the dog's collar, pulling him off of you.

He frowns and uses his other hand to help you up, sighing.

"Sorry about him. Damn mutt doesn't know how t'keep his hands to himself. Are ya okay?"

You giggle, wiping the slobber off your face before leaning down to scratch the happy dog behind his ear, his tail swishing as you do.

"Awww...it's okay!" You coo. "I'm fine, I promise. Does this handsome boy have a name?"

Katsuki can't help but feel his heart warm at the sight of you getting along with his dog so well - you handle him so naturally, he can't help but fall you for just a little bit more.

"Mmm...yeah. His name is Cerberus."

You grin at that. "Like the one who lives in the Underworld? That's awesome."

Katsuki gives you a grin of his own - before glances and your clothes and groaning again.

"Damn it...his fur got all over ya. Lemme go grab the lint roller."

Needless to say - your clothes ended up getting way more fur later on with the way the dog insisted to be lying on your lap at every waking second. Katsuki's pretty sure Cerberus got more of your attention than he did that night.

A/N: can you tell I'm a dog owner...lmao

this is what I picture Cerberus to look like 🥰 he's huge and intimidating but is the most affectionate thing ever. similar to someone else we all know...

[charliemwrites]

Part 7 is finally here! I only gave this a quick look over so if there are any glaring issues (like a random cut off sentence) please let me know! I was just so excited to get this one out.

Content: Brandon.

For all the power and influence it has amassed, SpecGru is a notoriously discreet and secretive operation. Mind, no one’s ever strolling down the street shouting their criminal affiliations for God and everyone to hear, but even by criminal standards, SpecGru is like a collective boogeyman. By the time most anyone knows they’re there, it’s already too late – and the rare (verbal) survivors only ever see masks and guns.

Granted, no small part of SpecGru’s prestige comes from whispered stories and unconfirmed rumors. Criminals are locker room gossips, the lot of them. Not that it’s completely unfounded. An execution is an execution, whether someone died with all their teeth and nails or not. (Usually not)

Few people know Price as more than a shadowy theoretical. (Someone must be in charge, that’s how the mafia works.) Even fewer know his face, never mind his name. It’s just good business that way.

In fact, SpecGru’s entire inner circle is shrouded in mystery. There’s not just the gray silhouette of the Don looming over their enemies’ heads. There are the lieutenants to contend with as well, acting on his direct authority, speaking on his behalf (with permission, of course) in his absence.

And then there’s Price’s right hand, the de facto boss should something happen. His heir, for all intents and purposes.

For those that have met Price in person, and by extension his few but devoted confidants, there’s always debate.

Is it Soap, loud and brash, but sharp as a whip? A decisive man, affable with a hidden mean streak?

Or is it Ghost, the quiet and calculating figure always at his side? A deadly and brutal enemy, shrewd and observant?

Kyle lets them stew in their assumptions and reminds himself that they’ll learn eventually – or they’ll be dead. He’s not fussed either way. It would suit SpecGru just fine if a few of those knobs keeled over sooner rather than later.

If only they knew that the hand that would one day grip their leashes was currently holding your purse so that you could pet a cute dog.

Not that Kyle minds; you have good taste. In purses, that is – though the dog isn’t half bad. A fluffy white and grey thing with a stumpy tail, practically crawling onto your pretty blue skirt as you coo and fawn. He started recording the minute you handed him your bag. (Price owes him for this.)

“His name is Mister Beans,” the uni girl enthuses to you.

You practically sob. “Mister Beans!”

He’s loath to hurry you along, but he’s supposed to meet up with Price for a Business meeting in only a half hour. Thankfully, you’re a considerate sort and don’t linger for long.

“Thank you so much, have a great day!” you cheer to the young woman. Then you turn back to Kyle, smiling huge. “Wasn’t he so cute?”

He chuckles. “It was. Wish I could have pet him, but white hair on this suit…”

You hum sympathetically. “I have a lint roller in my apartment.”

“I’ll scratch the next one,” he promises, offering your purse back.

You take it with your far hand and another mumbled “thank you,” then loop your closer arm through his. Don’t even seem to think about it, just accept the escort automatically. Kyle tries not to beam with pride. He used to have to prompt you, holding his elbow out at an awkward angle for you to get the hint. Now, you reach for the arm of whoever you’re with on instinct – as you should. (Another thing Price owes him for.)

“Do you like little dogs?” you ask, strolling with him for your apartment.

In the office, you’re a speedy little thing. Zooming from your desk to Price’s and back at velocity deserving of a ticket. Soap calls you a busy bee and it’s apt. Fluttering to and fro with stacks of papers or your tablet (“Reginald” you call it) everyone knows to make way at the click-click of your smart heels.

Outside, though, your purposeful stride slows to something less awe-inspiringly machinelike. Little Miss at work is a much different creature from Little Miss off the clock – but Kyle quite likes both.

“My mum had a little white dog while I was growing up. Crusty old thing,” he explains. “Prefer medium sized myself. Like a corgi.”

You giggle. “Like the royal family?”

“Oi, I liked ‘em before that.”

You just laugh harder at his defensive tone, patting his arm. He’s always impressed by how fearlessly you joke and tease him and the others. Have taken everything in stride from the beginning, didn’t even flinch when you first met Simon. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think you had no idea just who you arched your eyebrows at this morning because of a “scheduling disagreement.”

“Speaking of dogs…” you mutter, mirth disappearing.

He follows your gaze through the clear glass of the building’s entry vestibule. Your ex is standing inside, already spotted you and fluffing up like the cock he is.

“Mind keeping back, doll?” Kyle murmurs.

You make a noise of protest even as you hand him your keys. “He’s not going to do anything after what Soap did.”

There’s an ugly black cast around his hand and up his wrist. Kyle smirks at him through the door.

“Rather not take any chances,” he replies.

You huff a bit, but quietly slip your arm from his, letting him take the lead into the building. (He still holds the door for you of course – he’s not a numpty.)

“Get the fuck out, mate,” Kyle says as soon as the door opens.

Brandon looks downright taken aback. “And who the fuck are you?”

“None of your business,” you interrupt, stepping up beside Kyle.

“The hell it’s not!” Brandon replies, taking an angry (stupid) step forward. Kyle mirrors him, making a point of loosening up his shoulders. In a surprising display of good sense, Brandon stops there. “Look, bunny, a high-value man needs a high-value woman.”

Your voice comes out flat and unimpressed. “And that’s you, is it? A high-value man?

Brandon rolls his eyes but sighs, as if he’s trying to be patient with you. Kyle’s fingers twitch. His piece is burning a hole against his back.

“Obviously. I have a degree, a six-figure salary, and two properties – all under forty. I’m objectively attractive, work out regularly, don’t smoke. I’m a good catch, don’t kid yourself that you can do better.”

At Kyle’s elbow, you go very still. The type of still that precedes blood and screaming. He’s seen it in Ghost before.

“Then why are you here?” you ask, tongue dripping acid. “Since you’re such a catch.”

Brandon sighs and shakes his head, trying for fond exasperation and only achieving constipated.

“I’m not willing to just throw away two years. I’ve invested a lot in this relationship, and we can still make it work.” It actually starts to make Kyle nauseous, the way he talks about you like a business decision. “I mean, you have some things to make up for but eventually, we can go back to the way we were.”

“And what,” you say through gritted teeth, consonants sharp enough to pierce skin, “do I have to make up for?”

Kyle listens, flabbers absolutely gasted, as Brandon answers.

“You ran off to play desk bunny for a man I don’t know. God only knows what ‘favor’ you did to land that job. You’ve lowered your value as a marriable woman but there are ways to make it up to me—”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

Kyle’s ears ring like the first time he heard his mum curse.

Brandon looks taken aback too. You don’t give either of them a chance to respond.

“I know it’s not fucking me. Because if you were talking to me, you’d be stupider than you look.”

Brandon’s face flushes with anger. He takes another step forward. Kyle takes two in return, shaking his head in warning. Unfortunately, Brandon doesn’t know how to read his face any better than yours.

“C’mon, mate, it’s common sense. A lock that opens for any key and all that.”

Kyle’s heard it before. “Women ain’t locks, mate.”

“If you don’t get out of this building right fucking now, I will ruin your life,” you snarl.

Brandon does a double take. “Is that a threat? You can’t—"

“You bet your pasty ass it is,” you reply without missing a beat. You raise your voice every time he tries to interrupt, barreling through his weak protest like a train. “Fifteen fucking minutes. That’s all it would take to destroy you, your stupid sister, your bitchy mother, your pervert father, and that fucking slag you got pregnant twice.”

Kyle’s eyebrows rise with each word until he’s fairly certain they’ve floated up to the ceiling somewhere.

Brandon, though… Brandon’s face is ashen.

“How… how did you…?”

“Get. The fuck. Out.”

Kyle doesn’t give him the option to refuse. He scruffs Brandon by the back of his bland suit and shoves him out the first door of the vestibule. It closes and locks just as he turns around, a rebuttal finally juddering to his bloodless lips. You haven’t even turned to watch him go.

Kyle approaches you feeling a bit like he does coming to Price with shit news when he’s already pissed.

He almost says, you sure know how to pick ‘em – but thinks better of it. There’s practically frost forming beneath your feet, the air around you is icy.

“Walk you up, little miss?” he asks, offering his arm.

You gently take his arm and exhale heavily. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

You invite him in at your door. Your hands are shaking a bit. He politely accepts, shooting Price the others a text that he’ll be a bit late. He’s not about to leave you in a state.

As usual, you step out of your shoes at the door, leaving you in your shimmery stockings, then pad to the kitchen.

“Tea?” you ask as he follows.

“I haven’t the time, doll, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re alright before heading out.”

You turn, expression softening. Just like that, you’re back to your usual self, sweet as honey.

“I’ll be alright, I think,” you reply, sighing. “That was a long time coming.”

He leans his shoulder in the doorway, unable to help chuckling at the memory of your ex’s gobsmacked expression. The corners of your mouth curl up in shy amusement.

“Seemed like it,” he replies. “We should weaponize those f-bombs you dropped.”

That coaxes a giggle out. “Graves would be first on my list.”

“The boss’s too.” And oh, Kyle can’t wait to tell Price about this. (As if he needed another reason to hate Brandon and adore you.)

“Christ,” you groan, “you’re going to tell him about this, aren’t you?”

He’s at least able to muster an apologetic grimace. “You know I have to, sweets.”

“Suppose I’ll get the really good tea tomorrow,” you muse.

“He liked those pistachio scones from the corner café, too.”

You light up. It just so happens that they bake your favorite muffins too. “Good idea.”

“I’m full of ‘em.”

You snort, but there’s a fond smile on your face. Regretfully, he notes the time on the stove clock behind you.

“You’re sure you’re alright here by yourself?” he asks.

“I’m sure,” you promise, crossing to give him a warm hug. “I lock the door and windows like Simon told me.”

“Atta girl,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“Seven sharp!” you chirp.

He pauses at the door, “You call if there’s any trouble.”

You poke your head around the corner. “You don’t sign my paychecks; you can’t tell me what to do.”

He points right back at you. “That’s from the bossman direct.”

“Then he can tell me himself.”

He arches his brows. You blink.

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

He chokes back a chuckle. “Sweet dreams, little miss.”

“Get home safe, Kyle!”

As far as business meetings go, one with Los Vaqueros is almost pleasant. Sure, they always try to overprice their products, but haggling them down is practically a game between Price and Vargas by now. The shipping agreement between them and SpecGru is long established by now, a major link in the international arms market.

“Negotiations” are relaxed enough that Rudy and Valeria are playing cards with Ghost and Soap at the sitting table, whiskey glasses at their elbows. The plan for the next six months is all but set when Price suddenly jerks. In an instant, his face goes dark, shoulders tense.

“Something wrong, hermano?” Vargas asks.

“I’m getting a call.”

Soap and Ghost snap to attention.

There are only a handful of people that can reach Price during a meeting. All but one is in this room.

As he brings the phone to his ear, Kyle sees your name on the screen.

“Yes, love?” he answers.

Even from a couple feet away, Kyle can hear your voice through the receiver – high and panicked. Kyle’s already reaching for his keys.

“He fucking what?” Price barks.

Soap and Ghost jump to their feet, cards and drinks forgotten.

“Barricade the door, get a knife. We’ll be right there.”

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Masterlist

[nanamis-princess]

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Your their passenger princess

Synopsis: just head canons about being their passenger princess:)

Genre: fluff

T/w: mentions of shoko smoking, bad driving lol, possibly oc geto? And misspellings

Nanami, gojo, geto, shoko, megumi, yuji & nobara (separately) X reader

Nanami

-he always has his free hand on your thigh or holding your hand. His thumb brushes over your thigh/thumb gently but if it annoys you he stops.

-steals glances at you while at red lights, giving you a soft smile as the light turns green

-he cant help but laugh if you guys miss an exit because you thought it was a bit further down.

-he doesn’t mind listening to what you pick, he’s kinda the type to listen to a podcast while driving tho. Or an audiobook.

-when you type in the location in his maps you see his favorite places saved. Your favorite stores & restaurants are saved, along with his favorite bakery ofc.

-he’s a very safe driver but you can’t tell me his not putting across you if the car has to come to a abrupt stop.

-he has beach scented air fresheners in his car.

-has a photo of you at the beach holding up a seashell, clipped to a photo of Haibara in his visor.

-keeps mints/ gum in his car at all times along with a lint roller (he’s a cat dad)

Gojo

-his free hand is always on your thigh

-asks you to feed him while he’s driving, he accidentally bit your finger before and offered to kiss it to make it feel better.

-he’s a safe driver for the most part but he has his moments. He’s like a 100% positive there was never a stop sign there.

-he misses his exits a lot. Like a lot, a lot.

-his car smells like his cologne.

-has an extra pair of his iconic glasses on his visor along with a photo of you and Megumi sitting at his favorite ice cream spot.

-likes driving to beautiful nature areas with you after making a snack run.

-needs music on at all times, he requests song but then just ends up making a bunch of playlist for you guys. But don’t worry you are still his DJ.

-always has a hoodie or jacket in his backseat that you probably end up stealing.

Geto

-always holds your hand while driving, he also brings your hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss.

-his car smells like black cherry and his windows are tinted.

-a decent driver but does speed, not always while your in the car tho. Unless you like that kinda thing;)

-has a necklace of yours around his rear view mirror that you gave him

-loves doing those cute fast food date ideas where you pick the appetizer, he picks the main meal and you pick the dessert.

-likes to make out with you at red lights until it turns green and gets honked at.

-while he lets you pick the music you find a playlist with your name as the title its songs that remind him of you. He has another one of music you’ve played before.

-has a case of water on the floor in the backseat along with a blanket.

Yuji

-he most likely keeps his hands on the wheel or tweaking with something as he drives but likes holding your hand while driving. Sometimes puts his hand on your thigh.

-always has your favorite candy or gum in his glove compartment.

-requests like two different songs at once but tells you which order to play them in. “They just pair together well” he laughs as you type all that in.

-like Gojo always has a hoodie in his backseat along with a pair of sneakers and a water bottle he forgets about.

-also has random papers in the backseat that he keeps forgetting to look at

-he’s also a decent driver, but when your in the car he’s more aware. Not that he’s less likely to be careful but the last thing he wants his to hurt you or someone else.

-has a group photo of you, him, Nobara and Megumi in his visor.

-his car keys have a matching keychain that he shares with you.

Megumi

-it’s a small gesture but he loves holding your hand while he’s driving. Gives it a gentle little squeeze from time to time along with a kiss on the back of your hand.

-has LED lights at the bottom of the car that he keeps red for most of the time but lets you change the color.

-before dating you he didn’t really use air fresheners but he found one that reminded him of your perfume/cologne.

-gives you full control of the music

-relies on your directions more than the map because up he always misses the exit.

-there is a little dog hair in his backseat that he tries his best to get out lol, he didn’t keep a hoodie or blanket back there until he started dating you.

-has a car charm with your first initial around his rear view mirror.

-doesn’t mind if you eat from his food as he drives, he will give you his last fry, or chicken nuggets.

Nobara

-holds your hand while driving but doesn’t mind if you put your hand on her thigh.

-loves driving around listening to music with you if you don’t have a set destination. If you have a set destination (and she hasn’t been there before) she needs the music on low to focus.

-you guys have a playlist you add songs together

-has one of those mini trash cans that’s hooked to the backseat

-also has leather seat covers that matches her steering wheel

-going shopping with you and then getting a sweet treat after is her favorite thing to do on her day off, she’ll spoil you and herself until her backseat is full of shopping bags.

-she’s a good driver, no accidents and no tickets. But that curb is her enemy.

-her glove compartment has an extra hairbrush and lip gloss. She keeps things you use on the go too.

-keeps two hoodies in her backseat if you both get cold

Shoko

-she prefers having her hand on your thigh when she drives if she isn’t smoking

- likes to tease you by rubbing her hand up your thigh and gives it a little squeeze. She chuckles with a small smile at the effect that it has on you.

-has hair ties around her shifter and in the middle compartment she keeps a pack of cigarettes

-her car smells like caramel with a hint of nicotine

-she also wont smoke in the car if it bothers you or as a matter of fact around you in general

-she’s a very good driver but has parking tickets

-got you a head rest pillow in your favorite color to put on your seat

-also keeps a blanket that’s your favorite color in her backseat along with a bag hook if hanging on the pack of your seat A/N: hello cuties:3 it’s been a minute. This took me two weeks to write lolll, I’m in a bit of a rut & lacking motivation. More stuff is on the way tho 💕🌸

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Feral Ghouls HCs

(hunting season pt. 5)

Copia baby talks all of his ghouls when they're feral

If any of them come up to him (and doesn't look too aggressive) he squeals "my baby!!", or "oh! a lil ghoul!!", or "look at that lil creature!!"

He leaves out food for all of them every night, it's usually a selection of their favourite snacks and whatever was left over from dinner

Copia likes to eat his lunch outside as well

He usually ends up sharing it with Dew or Swiss

Dew in particular is very vocal when he's 'found' food and ends up attracting at least seven other ghouls

By the time Primo's or Secondo's ghouls have come to see what's going on, Copia's already dropped his lunch and has ran back inside

Occasionally, Copia will spot Terzo's ghouls

They're very rarely seen but will sprint over to Copia if they see him

Alpha is usually the only one to come over

He likes being around Dew, and since Dew is usually with Copia, he'll run over to Copia

He's a pretty big ghoul, certainly bigger than Aether, so having a giant, unglamoured, feral hell beast running full speed at him always scares the shit out of Copia

Sometimes, he gets circled by Terzo's ghouls if they haven't seen him in a while

They'll all pace round him and sniff as they decide whether to maul him or not

Copia is, by this point, screaming for Terzo to do something

His brother will lean out of his window, complain that he woke him up, and tell his ghouls to leave Copia alone

They usually all go scampering back into the woods

The ghoulettes are also very rarely spotted

Cumulus is very trusting of Copia when she's feral and likes to find him on her third or fourth day of the season to have her hair brushed and plaited to keep it tidy

She'll purr the whole time and Copia pulls her curls out of her face and ties them back neatly

By the time, she's usually fallen asleep in his lap

Copia doesn't dare move in case he wakes her and has been stuck for hours before

Once Lus lets him go, he has to go and get his lint roller and roll all the hair and fluff off of him (Lus sheds like mad when she's feral)

If Rain goes to Copia, he likes to greet him by shaking pond water onto him

Everyone knows that Copia was with Rain when he comes back inside soaking wet

Rain also likes to bring him fish he's caught and tries to get him to eat it

Copia will then pull the good old "look over there!" trick and throw the fish back into the pond while Rain isn't looking

Copia's been bitten by Rain a lot too and had tiny scars on his hands because of it

Rain never bites him out of malice, it's usually when Copia's trying to get some algae or fish scales out of Rain's hair

Rain thinks it's a game and will nip at Copia's hand when it goes past his mouth

To Rain, he's only biting softly, but he forgets he has serrated teeth which hook into flesh so they'll catch and tear Copia's hand when he bites

Copia's brothers and most of the siblings of sin criticise him for still visiting his ghouls during hunting season but he pays them no mind

He did try to keep away from them once, but they all managed to break into his room and destroy the place while he was out because he wasn't giving them any attention

Copia learned his lesson that day.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Office Essentials Every Woman Should Own

A sturdy, sleek tote that fits your laptop but isn't too bulky (with at least one closable interior pocket)

Laptop, AirPods/earbuds, portable charging system for phone/laptop

Laptop stand (changes the game, tbh)

Protective laptop case/sleeve

A planner and a black pen/another color pen for marking up your notes

Another notebook/pad for random notes or a running to-do list

A pen cup holder

A ziplock of hair-ties

Disposable toothbrush, Listerine strips, and travel-sized container of floss picks

A discreet feminine hygiene pouch or two with at least 2 products in it (you can use the additional pouch for extra underwear to be safe, honestly)

A simple, easy to zip and clean makeup bag

Lip balm

Hand cream

Vaseline/Aquaphor/Homeoplasmine

Mini stick antiperspirant or deodorant wipes

Travel-sized tweezers

Lint roller

Hand sanitizers

Disposable Shout wipes/stain remover stick

Travel-sized container of antibacterial and baby wipes

Band-aids

A pair of nail scissors

A mini nail file

Small sunscreen that doesn't leave a white cast

Travel-sized hair brush

A pigmented lip color (or two)

Compact powder

Portable stick cream blush/brusher

Eyeliner/mini mascara

Eyebrow pencil

A snack pack or two of a protein-rich, plant-based snack (roasted edamame, roasted chickpeas, lupini beans, almonds, or Feel Protein bars are great options because they're portable and keep you full in a pinch without forcing you to reach for something unhealthy/not filling when you need to eat – you can also carry some freeze-dried fruit to pair alongside it if desired)

Pouch for keys, wallet, IDs, etc.

Blue-light glasses (for long days in front of a screen)

[writingjourney]

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

!!! this fic contains spoilers for RHRN, do not read on if you wish to remain spoiler-free!!!

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Or: Copia is taking up his new position. It’s not an easy feat.

content: 1.8k words, gn!reader, angst, grief, hurt/comfort, some fluff and kisses, post!rhrn so spoilers, established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 – White dust sheets cover the furniture like ghosts of a life left behind. The path forward is hidden underneath layers of insecurity and grief but as he packs up years of work in pre-used cardboard boxes it almost feels as though he cannot see the path at all.

His new office is just down the hall. It is a fast job. Two trips and his desk has become another ghost. One more trip and he has emptied out all personal belongings from the dusty shelves. The rest stays, not useful to him anymore in his new function.

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Unlike his brothers he had no way to prepare who follows his footsteps and perhaps that is where the ache in his belly comes from – the uncertainty.

He cannot quite bring himself to unpack the boxes in his new office yet. But it is not his office anyway, Copia thinks. No, it is his mother’s office and he feels like an intruder placing his things on her desk. Her smell clings to the old fabrics, clings to him, a strong perfume that Copia has not been able to get out of his nose ever since he covered her body with yet another white sheet.

Yet another ghost.

It has not been long, he tells himself, a weak comfort. As he stands here with an old card she wrote him – Welcome Home, C! – he can hear the clicking of his mother’s shoes on the tiled floors like a faint echo that haunts the hallways of the Ministry. Everyone is busy preparing for this transitional period, mourning their Mother Superior, but now it is Copia who has to guide them, navigate them through this darkness.

He realises that he himself has footsteps to follow and that he is just as unprepared. A new era, for all of them.

“Love?”

He turns and his world lights up for a brief moment. You occupy the doorframe in a black mourning habit, the one all Siblings chose to wear in honour of his mother. Of course he finds that it suits you better than anyone else. But perhaps that is because he has felt the sturdy fabric against his wet cheeks so many times now that it means comfort, home.

“Do you still need help with the boxes?” you ask.

All he can do is shake his head. You approach and he wants to close the card, hide it away, not even sure why. You have seen the fallout, you have held him through the worst of it. Perhaps he is ashamed, in a way, that he cannot move on as fast as his new role demands of him.

“Was this from her?” you ask, nestling up to his side.

“Mhm.”

His hand is trembling lightly as you lay yours to rest on top of his. The swipe of your thumb against his bare wrist sends goosebumps down his spine and when you wrap the other arm around his waist his eyes are watering.

“Perhaps you can frame it, together with some photos,” you suggest.

He nods, leaning into your embrace as a solid rock forms in his throat. You hold him and he lets the silent tears run down his cheeks, gathering at the dip of his chin. Your thumb continues to draw slow crescents over his pulse. He can’t speak. He does not have to.

✦ ✧ ✦

2 – He is glued to the mirror.

You try not to fuss, he is nervous as is. It is first official day, after all.

“I didn’t know you had a new uniform,” you say with a lint roller in hand, joining him in the bedroom. The jacket is brand new, all black but unusual in its ornamentation, satin lapels that run from his neck towards his armpits. A clerical collar underneath sparkles against his Adam’s apple.

“I eh… splurged,” he says, cheeks dusted a bashful red.

He says it like he is wasteful, does it whenever he treats himself to something, but you also know he is wearing the same black winklepickers he wore as a Cardinal ten years ago, never replaces any pieces of clothing until he finds holes in the fabric, that he only bought new jackets when he could use them on stage to look his best for the audience. The suit is no different, it is as much a boost to his confidence as it is a display of his new status. A performance.

“It is a rather nice suit,” you note, running the lint roller down his back.

“Mhm.” He pauses, looks down at himself and tugs at the sleeves. “It is… unfamiliar.”

“You wear it well, Copia.”

He smiles and his confidence resurfaces. You find that he looks handsome in a completely new way. You have seen so many facets of him that you can tell he is beginning to mold himself into this role, even if he might not see it himself yet. In the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him through black-rimmed eyes but in time he will see himself again, a grown version.

“It is not all,” he says. “I… found something. In the desk drawer.”

He points to a velvety black box on the dresser. Inside, you find a beautiful ornament, two ruby brooches holding a bejewelled black grucifix, another ruby at the bottom. It is one of the most beautiful, elaborate pieces you have ever seen.

“A gift, I think.”

He looks uncertain when you glance up. But you have no doubt that it was meant for him, meant for today. You carefully take it out of the box, delicate as it looks it feels sturdy and well-crafted. One brooch to each lapel and the grucifix dangles over his heart. Light from the window catches in the gemstones, a prism splitting the ray into sparkles that reflect in the mirror, a spectacle of multicoloured beams flickering across the walls.

Copia watches the dancing lights, mesmerised, until the sun hides behind a cloud and the room is gloomy yet again. When you focus back on him a tear pearls from his left eye, running down his cheek and leaving a black streak in its wake. The piece is more than jewels – it is a memory, a promise, a token of trust.

“It is beautiful,” you say. “As are you, Copia. So beautiful.”

His smile is tinged with sadness but there is hope, now, too. You smooth out his jacket, admiring him for a moment, unconcealed, and he must see it in your eyes because the smile shifts until one corner of his mouth pulls into a lighthearted smirk.

“Do I get a kiss?” he asks.

You grab the satin and pull him close. One day you are going to peel him out of this jacket and it won’t feel heavy anymore.

✦ ✧ ✦

3 – You gently wipe at his under-eye. The black smudge is persistent and you stop when the skin turns red. Copia’s eyes are closed even as he holds you. Wrapped around you he feels hot to the touch, almost feverish. He has gone non-verbal since he came home and you give him the space he needs, soft touches, rest and quiet.

The tension of the day still sits in his muscles, you can feel the knots when you run your hands over his back. The hot shower did not help, nor did the pasta he barely touched for dinner. He did well, everyone said this to you today. Whether he feels it you are not so certain.

You lean in and press a kiss to the round tip of his freckled nose. He blinks at you through tired, reddened eyes, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. His hand tightens at your waist, slides underneath your shirt to feel your skin. He’s your whole world molded into the shape of a man. Love, stored in the crinkles of his crow’s feet, every line on his face, in the brushstrokes of grey at his temples, an endless supply.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, trailing the curve of his spine.

His eyes open and you feel guilty for disrupting his peace. But then he pulls you ever closer, squishing, the softness of your bodies mingling with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t…” He stops, brows pulled together. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I have no doubt that you can.” You study his features, move your hand to trace the lines of tension and smooth them out. He lets you, eyelids fluttering at the soft touch. “Every day from now on will be easier, Copia. My baby, I have such confidence in you. Unshakable.”

The words stir something in him. Some wetness gathers in his odd eyes but he blinks it away. You have to fight your own tears, good tears, for how far he has come. Then Copia nods, nods again but with more conviction. A deep exhale through his nose and he swallows the doubts away.

“You are right, always,” he says. “I was Papa Emeritus IV, eh? I did that.”

“You did.” A smile, proud and amused. “And now you are Frater Imperator.”

“Mhm, I am.”

“You are the head of this church, they are still your flock, adoring you, admiring you, trusting you. None of this has changed.” You cradle his face in both hands, a firm press of your thumbs to his cheekbones. “And you are still the man I love.”

“I am?”

“Forever.”

He closes the gap himself, a grateful kiss, seeking. You try to give him what he needs, firm and soft kisses, hands roaming, legs entangles. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, deeper still until all air escapes you and a dizzy fog fills your head. He is all you know, all you want for the rest of this life you live together.

The kisses slow down, not any less deep, and he cradles your head, keeping you pressed together. There is some need building, a languid wave that fades out in ripples. You feel him stir against your leg but he is not quite here with you, not entirely, and it subsides after a moment.

He breaks away with a heavy sigh, keeps his eyes closed.

“Perhaps not tonight,” you say, stroking his hair.

He nods and rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose, the embrace tighter than before. It feels easier now, somehow, and you can picture it so clearly. The future, him, and even in your head the world is quiet as you hold him close.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

[lacunazai]

Do you have any fluffy Dazai in love headcanons you'd like to share?

ABSOLUTELY I DO !!! ( some of these are obviously x reader others are just. general hcs )

dazai obviously absolutely adores cuddling. it can't be a headcanon post without mentioning how he clings to you whenever he can get his grubby hands on you. he's a little like a big dog if you squint - you can sit anywhere and even if he's not supposed to fit in your lap , damn we'll hes crawling into it and nestling himself into your chest regardless.

he likes sharing meals with you too. he's always had problems with eating, everyone knows that. but with you? something about the joint effort gives him that extra push. maybe it's the excitement behind preparing the meal, maybe its how he enjoys reading your expression on what restaurants you want when you're ordering takeout. or maybe it's the quiet praise you give him when he's eaten more then usual. whatever it is, it's a good motivator to get him to eat anything.

he figets with anything. any necklaces or jewellery you're wearing are basically toys to him. dazai adores listening to you ramble while he plays with the loose threads of your shirt, fiddling with your hand while you talk about whatever hell you'd been dealing with lately. he adores your voice, and something about the closeness and how he can keep his hands busy makes it all so much better. it helps him focus on anything other then his mind.

he likes going on walks, this might seem pretty basic. but sometimes hearing the birdsong and feeling the breeze on his cheeks sways him away from finding any new suicide methods to attempt while out there. the scent in the air as he passes a bakery, when he decides to give himself a little treat. seeing things in the window he knows his coworkers would like. things like that .

on the subject of coworkers, dazai likes to leave little gifts around for you and members of the agency. he doesn't credit himself for them at all - but sometimes there's a new pen on kunikidas desk that dazai doesn't annoy him into snapping as fast. sometimes there's a lint roller on atsushis desk , because he knows how bad white cat hair is on black trousers. sometimes there's stacks of candy on ranpos desk, ones he'd been rambling about wanting to try for months. little things like that.

whenever its cold outside he has a habit to share pockets with you. gently taking your hand in his and pulling it into the pocket of his trenchcoat, chuckling when you ask him what he's doing and simply kissing the top of your head as an answer. proximity is everything to him - if you couldn't tell already.

dazai gets really sleepy around you easily. he feels a LOT safer around you , and as a result he doesn't mind it as much when he finds himself drifting to sleep when he's laying in your lap after a long day. he knows you won't hurt him, he knows nothing bad will happen to him when hes unconcious. so he allows himself to close his eyes and snuggle that little bit closer.

[fuctacles]

<<😺😺😺😺

if i didn't respond to your comment it's bc desktop tumblr didn't let me, I still love and appreciate y'all

Maybe tomorrow he'd bring his book here, and keep the cats company while he reads. Would they like it if he read it out loud?

Oh lord, the crazy cat lady energy must be rubbing off on him already.

The cats certainly are. He looks down at his black attire now speckled with cat hair, and sighs. He should have asked Steph where the lint roller was before she left. With great effort, he stands up from the comfy couch, vowing to himself to only do a cursory search with no unnecessary peeking. 

The entrance seems like an obvious start since people like to de-hair themselves before leaving the house. The dresser next to the door is cluttered with typical things - sunglasses, hand lotion, chapstick, some loose change, and jewelry. No roller in sight. So he goes to the kitchen instead, because kitchen is where everything goes. The cats are watching him curiously from their chosen perches around the house.

"Stop it. This is all your fault."

He finally finds what he's looking for on a windowsill next to a dead fly. He starts cleaning his clothes there, next to the fridge, and its colorful display catches his attention. 

There's an Ewok magnet that looks handmade, holding up a birthday card, and a few holiday photos, capturing smiling people in swimming costumes. Some of them look older, like the photo of a kid in a wizard robe, or a pair of bloodied-up teenagers in sailor costumes, which must be a very obscure reference because Eddie hasn't seen it at any costume party before. 

The caption under the photo reads BFF but someone added a circle of smaller F's all around the photo, turning them into a frame. Which, if Eddie's connecting the dots correctly, would imply that it's Robin and Steph. The quality isn't the best, but at first glance, he's assumed it must be a family member, maybe a brother, but he remembers her saying she's an only child. 

He tracks the other photos, but most of them are new, of the Steph he already knows. There might be more around the apartment, though. 

But he's already rolled his shirt and he'll be back tomorrow morning anyway, so he quickly works on his pants' legs, gives the cats a wave, and leaves. 

While walking back, he's apparently so lost in his thoughts, he gets startled by his own uncle.

"The cats still alive?"

"Do you want?! Me?! To die?!" Eddie screeches, eyes wide and a hand on his heart, the other holding him upright against the wall. "Why the fuck are you sitting there in the dark?!"

Wayne looks pointedly at the lamp next to him, then to his nephew. Aside from his reading nook in the corner though, the living room has no other light sources right now, but Eddie just throws his hands in defeat, deciding not to argue. Especially not when his uncle finally folded and was reading Blade Runner. 

"Must have been thinking some guilty thoughts, huh?" 

"Excuse me?" Eddie takes a step back from his course towards the kitchen. His uncle was flipping a page in his book, clearly not reading but not looking up from it either. 

"To get scared like that. Did you do something bad, son?" He finally looks up, and Eddie doesn't like it. He looks exactly like his friends just before teasing him about something. "Saw something you shouldn't have?"

Eddie folds his arms and sticks his nose up, hoping the evening darkness hides his warming cheeks. 

"I don't know what kind of panty raiding you do up there, but I'm not a pervert."

"Panty riding, huh?" Wayne raises his eyebrows in interest. "That what you boys do in college these days?"

"Do you want a sandwich? Some tea maybe?" Eddie has already turned his back to him and is switching the light on in the kitchen. "And the cats are fine, thanks for asking!"

"Yes and yes. Thank you!" 

Eddie prepares them sandwiches and teas and grabs his own book so they can read in silence waiting for the evening news. It's nice to have this, a break from busy and loud college life, just sharing silence and love for books with his uncle. 

That is, of course, until Wayne looks at his watch and puts the book down to exchange it for a remote. Eddie likes to keep his nose in the book until the news become too distracting or he catches something interesting being reported on. His uncle has other plans for him this time. 

"You know it's alright to like her, right?"

Eddie lowers his book, slightly incredulous that Wayne is still talking about it. He looks at him with wide eyes.

"You really want me to fuck your neighbor, huh?"

Finally, his uncle gets a taste of his own medicine, almost choking on the tea that he unfortunately decided to sip on at that moment. Eddie: one, Wayne: zero.

But later, the score evened out again, as all Eddie could think of while trying to sleep were the pictures on the fridge, and plowing his uncle's neighbor into her mattress until she screamed. 

The next morning, with not enough sleep under his belt, Eddie skips two sets at a time, because he totally absolutely royally forgot about the fucking plant. 

He fumbles with the keys, can hear the inquisitive meows on the other side of the door, and once he's in he takes a beeline to the kitchen, ignoring the little creatures following him like they have been starving on the streets and he was a fresh batch of tuna factory waste.

The plant looks normal, the same as it did 24 hours ago, and he waters it as per instructions while trying not to even brush its leaves because he truly believes his touch might kill it. His track record with plants indicates so. Only then does he turn to the meowing bunch at his feet. 

"Hello, little demons. Time to feast."

The cats are fed, their mouths making unpleasant wet noises against the equally wet food, and Eddie has a moment to take a curious walk around the place, in search of more photos.

He finds a wedding photo, with Steph in a pink dress and stunning make up dancing with a man with curly hair. There's one from a barbecue, where Steph is being hugged by a tall man with a mustache. She's wearing jean shorts and a sweater in this one, and somehow, looks a bit off. It looks older than the wedding one. 

But a true treasure chest is the huge frame he finds above a small bookcase.

It's a collage titled 'The fucking journey' that seems to be a collection of Polaroids from a multitude of workplaces, with the same two people present. Year after year, one job after another, until they got where they are today. 

It starts with a 1983 and the sailor costumes he's already seen. They are less bruised and more tired in this one. Knowing where to start, Eddie's eyes track from one photo to another, observing Stephanie's features, her wardrobe, and her hair change until she becomes the woman she is today. 

There was no boy in that photo on the fridge. It's always been her. Growing into herself. 

Is this what his uncle was talking about? Well, not talking, but being annoyingly vague about it, like he wasn't sure what he was talking about himself. 

Fear not, Uncle Wayne. Eddie's going to pick up every pamphlet and every zine he can put his hands on, to educate them both about who their neighbor is, how to navigate the topic and respect her the way she deserves.

[purinflora]

school girl schedules 👧🏻

how to upkeep academia

𐙚 iNTRODUCTiON

with the new school year starting, a lot of new challenges pose themselves. keeping track of assignments, flourishing both socially and academically, as well as keeping organized. making time for ourselves outside of school can also be a little complicated. i've made some pretty big upgrades, since last year, and i wanted to share what i've been doing! these are my personal routines, feel free to alter anything as you see fit for your benefit. starting with:

— ✦ O1. : morning routine

wake up at 5:OO-5:3O a.m

brush teeth

moisturize, apply sunscreen, put on miracle balm / color corrector

make bed, pick up room

change into uniform, put on perfume and jewelry

make sure my bag is packed

have breakfast

apply chapstick, lipgloss, and mascara

— ✦ O2. : afternoon routine

unpack extra items, charge ipad

shower / take a bath

do homework

check e-mail and school page for updates

set out uniform

𐙚 TiPS & TRiCKS

organize & decorate your locker

try to get involved in clubs and other school activities

budget your lunch money for the week

memorize your schedule, get to know your teachers

make friends / acquaintances in every class, it really does help make you feel more at ease and if there's group work you have potential partners!

keep track of your class averages at all time

𐙚 STUFF 2 PACK

— ✦ O1. : self care bag

pocket deodorant

pocket hairbush

spare hair tie

chapstick

nail file

hand lotion

— ✦ O2. : emergency bag

pocket mouthwash / breath freshening brushes

bandaids

pocket lint roller

cough drops

blotting paper

if needed: pads, tampons, and a spare pair of underwear

— ✦ O3. : miscellaneous

a water bottle

pocket pack of tissues

a pack of gum / breath mints

✷ heαder creds @ unknown

[werecreature-addicted]

I RAISE YOU THIS

werewolf bf who’s all rugged, burly and scarred up, and then his gremlin gf, who is a little neat freak and does not, under no circumstances, allow him to be dirty or bring dirt into their home. also, how do u feel abt like…. werewolf bf and his werecat gf?👀👀 this is purely self indulgent but i have lots of ideassss

How could you do this? how could you take from me, my gross dirty werewolf man? uhm. It would take a lot of work to get him to stay clean. but he'll try for you, he'll take off his shoes at the front door and shower when he comes home but I mean... he's a wolf. it's inevitable that he comes home from a long night under the full moon covered in blood and dirt and sweat and crashes exhausted on your clean white carpet. He'll apologize sheepishly and try to clean it up but god you at the very least need to invest in some heavy-duty cleaning supplies. that's not even mentioning the furr. and the shedding. Summer is a war and you and your lint roller are the only soldiers.

As for the werecat thing. it's mostly more relaxed. the main reason cats and dogs don't get along is because they communicate stress and affection in different ways. But with the ability to be human and talk about their wants and needs a lot of that tension dissipates. The werecat typically prefers to show affection in the form of quality time/ parallel play. it's enough to just be in the same room doing different things together, the werewolf demands at least hand holding if not full-blown snuggling and making out. There is a funny moment when they both gift each other a dead animal on the same night as a hunting trophy.

[meazalykov]

the family friend

sydney lohmann x reader

summary: bottled up emotions explode

warnings: it gets a little spicy.

you stand in front of your clean bathroom mirror, adjusting your dark-washed straight-leg jeans and smoothing down your black tube top with a lint roller. 

the outfit hugs your figure perfectly, and you feel a mix of excitement and nerves as you prepare for the family dinner.

it's not just your family tonight; the lohmann family will be joining you, too. 

well, not everyone in the families. only the two mothers in both families and some of the children are attending. 

you hope that a certain girl in the lohmann family will make an appearance in your space.

as the doorbell rings, signaling the lohmanns' arrival, you take a deep breath, turn off the bathroom light, and step into your room. 

you spray a few spritzes of your favorite perfume around your pulse points before heading downstairs. 

your heart races as you walk to the living room, seeing your mother greet the german family walking inside.

your eyes immediately find sydney, your crush who’s two years older than you. 

sydney looks stunning in an ivory-colored sweater vest and black trousers. the blonde always looks stunning, but your eyes shimmer at the sight of her.

you've had a crush on syd for as long as you can remember, ever since you were children playing at the neighborhood park together. 

you've never found the courage to confess your feelings throughout the years, unsure of how sydney would react. especially since you’re both women too, you never had a hint on if she “went your way”.

dinner starts smoothly, with laughter and conversations filling the room. your mom served tacos along with salad– just in case someone didn’t want tacos. 

despite everyone being in their own conversations, you can't shake off the feeling of sydney's eyes on you. 

each glance from sydney makes your heart skip a beat. at first, you wonder if there’s something on your face. you checked the camera on your phone and realized that you looked good. 

soon, syd’s looks become too much.

overwhelmed by the intensity of sydney's stares, you excuse yourself from the table, muttering something to your mom about needing a moment to use the restroom. 

you retreat to your bedroom, which is on the other side of the house, hoping to calm your racing heart as you pace around the pink-colored space.

now, you felt bad. how can someone be so scared to confess their feelings to someone? 

you knew it had to do with insecurity. 

sydney is older than you, has a successful football career with bayern munich, had many friends, etc. 

you had many friends too, in fact– most people call you a beautiful person. you’re a student at a university in munich and you’re set to have your own apartment in a month. you were successful in your own way too.

the thought of sydney rejecting you would send you into a spiral, which is why you’ve never confessed your feelings to your old childhood best friend-- afraid that she would cut you off. 

five minutes later, a soft knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. you pull your hands out of your jean pocket as you stare at the door.

before you can respond, the door creaks open, and sydney steps inside, shutting the door behind her. 

your heart almost pounds out of your chest, a mix of fear and anticipation surging through you.

the room suddenly feels much smaller with that small action. the tension is palpable since nobody speaks up to say something. 

sydney takes a step closer to you, away from the door, her eyes never leaving you.

“hey, is everything alright?” sydney says. 

your eyes widen as she continues to walk toward you, you step back– but your legs hit your bed frame. you sit down on the bed as you look up at the german girl with an unreadable expression. 

“yeah, i think i just got overwhelmed with something.” you mumble. 

sydney sits down beside you on the bed, very close. your breath would’ve been stuck in your chest if she was any closer. 

she places her hand on your thigh, just right above your knee. 

at this moment, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

"fuck! i can't keep this to myself anymore" you say, your voice trembling slightly. "syd, i'm in love with you. i have been for a long time. you're so beautiful–fuck–i can't stop thinking about you and this is driving me crazy."

sydney’s mouth widens as she searches your eyes for any sign that this might be a joke, but all she sees is sincerity. gathering her courage, she scoots you on top of her lap.

"i love you too, y/n," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. "i have for so long, since before i started playing at bayern full time– but i was too scared to tell you verbally."

relief washes over your face, and you close the distance between the both of you, pulling her lips to yours with your hands gently on her neck. 

your bedroom seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own world, finally free to express the love you've kept hidden for so long.

after a minute sydney pulls back slightly, looking at you as you adjusted yourself onto her lap. you’re facing her front and she leans back laying on the bed

she brings her lips to yours– initiating the second kiss. 

the cherry colored lips of yours trails down sydney’s face and neck as she started to grip parts of your body. it started with your waist, then she got bolder as she gripped onto your right butt-cheek. 

“fuck!” you mumbled as you went back up and kissed her lips again. 

“y/n? sydney?” you heard a knock on your door. 

you would’ve shot up away from sydney’s body if you weren't off such an adrenaline high, plus sydney locked your bedroom door when she came in.

“what do you want?” you asked your older sister as your hands played with sydney’s blonde hair. 

“are you guys okay? you guys haven’t been downstairs in a while.” 

“we are! we are just talking about something.” you changed your tone for the last word, hoping to signal your sister to go away. 

“yeah.. something.” sydney giggles under her breath as she starts to kiss at your neck from below. 

“okay, well just come downstairs soon.” your sister's voice sounded distant from the door, you figured that she left to go back into the dining room. 

“we won’t take long at all.” you mumbled, smirking as sydney flipped you over so she was on top of you now. 

<3

[critterbitter]

Do you think you'll draw the nimbasa trio catching their first Pokemon that's not their starter on their journey?

Definitely! It’s just a matter of getting there, haha. I am but one vaguely man shaped blob with a hyperfixation. Mortal needs like sleep and hand pains stop me from vomiting every brain idea I have.

I actually got this question multiple times, so to answer! I am not going to be drawing the nimbasa trio getting another pokemon until their late teens unless a brainworm strikes. (So no new pokemon during the current snapshot series haha.)

Why?

From a canon perspective, well:

Most npc trainers you meet on route have 2-4 pokemon, so I’m gonna try to keep within that amount until the trio settles in Nimbasa and have the revenue/space to upkeep a full pokemon team.

From a meta perspective, wellllll:

Another caught pokemon means character development, and I, ah... right now, I just wanna draw a candle, a zebra, and an eel. I love painting. But fitting seven or more characters on a canvas is, er… Make me draw more guys and I’ll melt like a vanniluxe on a summer day.

If people are curious for some pokemon headcannons though (note that this is not canon— pokemon gave me a puddle of information, so I’m taking the shovel to dig an ocean.)

- ingo saw a colony of dwebble collecting rocks while in the desert, and he’s been enamored ever since. He’s been trying to convince a dwebble to join his team for a while. Unfortunately, Ingo’s very excited and dwebble are naturally shy. (It doesn’t help that litwick can get mean when jealous.)

- emmet loves double battles and teams up with a lot of wild pokemon— but he doesn’t click with anybody until much further in the future. Me thinks his expectations are a tad too high from having such a good start with tynamo. He’s worked with multiple growlithes and thinks Helping Hand is the coolest shit ever.

- emmet’s first “caught” pokemon would be archen. More like “lab grown” and “lovingly hatched”, but it’s the thought that counts. Thinking once again about squab archen…

- elesa found her two emolga in the trash. She was going to release them after fostering, but got attached.

For future plans:

(The pokemon the twins live with and are officially part of the team (named at what stage the twins meet them! Note that everybody becomes fully evolved at somepoint.)

Ingo— litwick, dwebble, drillbur, and axew.

Emmet— tynamo, archen(lint roller), joltik, and durant.

They also have pokemon coworkers that don’t live with them, but agree to help in battles for exp and wages— kliklank twins, garbadore, shelmet and karablast, boldore (atlas), and gurdur)

And for our favorite electric gym leader:

Elesa— blitzle, the emolga twins (em and molga), stunfisk, mareep

(She has pokemon coworkers Eelektross (eela), zebrastrika (motorbreak), and Galvulanta (Lanta) who have a similar set up to the twins— the pokemon agree to work with Elesa for exp and wages, but otherwise have their own lives.)

(Fun headcanon: pokemon who are raised by humans tend to keep human nicknames. It’s not always the case, but it’s a common enough trend for research studies.)

[officialaemondtargaryen]

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! ;)