Happy Birthday Richard Ayoade (*23 May 1977) - “a filmmaker, writer and amateur dentist. He lives in London with his wife, her wife and their two husbands. They have children. For his cinema, Ayoade has won no major awards. He has also won no minor awards. He has, however, watched several award shows and especially enjoys seeing other people receive awards. Good for them, he thinks to himself in his small house that he doesn’t own.”
take that title loosely cause they arent all technically monsters
Jeremy: Werewolf - first things first he is a VERY scrawny werewolf even when he is transformed. I know its kind of unfitting but i honestly couldnt think of anything other than just making him human but that would be weird so im just gonna use his furry kink as an explanation for this one folks
EDIT:. Jeremy is a satyr now
Michael: Half dragon hybrid - i dont know what to call it but think wings, tail, fangs, and a fire breath exclusively used for lighting joints. hes a music obsessed stoner dragon with anxiety what more do i say
Christine: Angel - you heard it here first folks shes a literal angel.
Rich: Halfling dwarf - think lord farquaad. thats it. literally his only powers are being short and buff (also if i remember from DnD they can kind of see in the dark but i havent reviewed the handbook in a while)
Jake: Demon - his parents stole money from some important dudes in hell so he’s just chillin while they flee. He’s actually a pretty high class demon so he naturally excels at a lot of things, hence the all of the extracurriculars he does
Brooke: Siren (the mermaid kind not the freaky bird kind) - you know those mermaid movies where they only have tails in the water? think of it like that. she has a beautiful voice (obviously) but shes insecure about it because it can kind of straight up lure people to her (and occasionally kill them)
Chloe: Just a really sexy witch - think hogwarts student but she doesnt need a wand. Lowkey jealous of other people at school because all she can do is cast spells while there are some that can straight up murder people
Jenna: I cant think of anything - i actually cant think of anything feel free to help me out. please EDIT:. Shes a psychic and can see peoples futures/do very basic mind readings! Thats how she knows the dirt on everyone
The SQUIPS: the squips are a species of spirit-like shapeshifters capable of minor possessions that convince you that they can help you get whatever you want before using you, your status or even just straight up taking over your body to get what they need
also this is just extra and unnecessary but Madeline is a succubus and thats why she always manages to have sex with dudes
Yuuri barely has time to grab his jacket when he runs out the door, much less brush his hair or find a hat. Unfortunately, he’s sure that that means that his hair is an absolute mess. It’s been getting long again, but in between classes and helping Yura out with his routine on the weekends, he hasn’t had much time for things like haircuts. Besides, Victor doesn’t seem to mind it, and Yura likes to experiment hairstyles on Yuuri “so that if it looks stupid, I don’t have to see it on myself.”
It’s not that big a deal, except on days like this, when he sleeps in (thanks a lot Vitya) and doesn’t have the time to really get it under control. He usually meets up with his friends before class, and he doesn’t doubt that they’ll notice, and probably tease him about it.
“Yuuri!” Estephania gasps, sounding too scandalized for her words to be anything but teasing. “What on earth happened to your hair?”
Yuuri flushes. “I was running late,” he mumbles.
Richard snorts. “You sure? Because that looks more like sex hair to me, man.”
“Ooh, he’s right,” Estephania coos before Yuuri can protest.
He wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment (especially since they’re not entirely wrong). “No, really I–”
“We know, sweetie.” She reaches up and moves his hair around a bit, trying to make it look presentable. “You’re just too easy to tease.”
“You sure you’re really twenty seven?” Richard raises an eyebrow.
Yuuri just smiles at the ground in fond humiliation (apparently it’s not a common emotion, but it’s a little hard not to be used to the feeling when he’s married to the world’s biggest drama queen) and nods. “I am.”
His friends are too much sometimes, he admits. Richard is the embodiment of America in a lot of ways: loud, completely lacking a sense of social norms, a walking personification of testosterone. Estephania is less… everything… than Richard, but she’s very touchy and affectionate in an entirely platonic way that reminds Yuuri a lot of Christophe, only without all of the innuendo. But they’re both loyal down to their very core, and they’re not bad people.
His phone starts ringing, Stammi Vicino playing loudly. Yuuri picks up, keeping his phone away from Estephania’s hands. “Да, Vitya?”
“Dude! You speak Russian too?” Richard looks like Yuuri just smacked him in the face. The school year just started, so they’re all still learning about each other.
Yuuri just smiles, since Victor is in the middle of one of his usual mid-morning crises. “Vitya, calm down,” he says in Russian. “Makkachin is probably out with Yura. You know he takes her for walks sometimes. Have you seen him today?”
He manages to get Victor off the phone just before class starts, flipping his phone to airplane mode since he’s sure that this isn’t the last he’ll be hearing from his lovable trainwreck of a husband.
Summary: Bruce gets caught talking to himself by a curious Dick Grayson
Bruce Wayne had learned to ignore many things in the few years since he’d become Batman. Initial irrigations had even turned to comforting reminders. The chill of the cave was a welcome shock that helped his brain transition from Bruce to vigilante. The long drive from the manor to Gotham proper had turned into a time to plan instead of wasted minutes. And the bats. Chattering. Flapping. Swooping when he was least expecting them. They’d become a welcome presence alongside him. Their noise the background to his work. Their rare visible presence a constant reminder of vigilance.
He had never considered them as companions to speak to. They were only bats, after all.
They had never answered his muttered musings to himself or offered up answers to questions not sent their way. His hushed tone had grown over time to conversational, as he worked out plans, walked mentally through crime scenes, and picked apart toxins. They were much like walls in the way that they soaked up his words and kept them tightly as their own.
He was sure that things would have gone along that way for years longer if a small, ever-curious boy had not entered his life. Dick was always asking questions. Most of which Bruce had ready answers for. Their subjects those that (most of the time) were enriching to his young ward’s mind.
It had been years since Bruce had to curtail his habits to anyone other than Alfred. He’d developed a public persona with strict rules and guidelines for when he was at Wayne Enterprises or public events, and the hours he put in as Batman were done as a man far removed from the man he was in the sun. His home self, the man who was neither smile nor mask was free of those restrictions. Free to frown, and rub his forehead, to be frustrated or pleasantly amused by the misplacing of his favorite book, and yes he was free to talk to himself.
“If I clip that wire, and solder it here the whole thing will run a lot faster.” He said, his hands already angling the wire clipper towards the blue line. “Then if I just–”