very shoes

9

Please papa SEGA, let Sonic have more than 2 pairs of slick kicks.

Peep is a hearing aid. It is still getting used to this, because it used to be a regular dragon. And now it is a full-time employed hearing aid dragon, all two inches of it, perched on its sorcerer’s ear.

The sorcerer is named Vigil, which is short for Vigilante. Peep tried to point out to its hapless human that being named after their secret identity is a terrible way of keeping it a secret, but Vigil continues to be named Vigil. (It is ridiculous, in Peep’s eyes, how often its good advice goes ignored.) Vigil’s often-changing gender was another surprise to get used to, since dragons don’t tend to have genders.

“What’s a gender for?” Peep had questioned Vigil on its first day of work as it tried to find the best position to stay hidden behind her ear, while holding onto her piercings for balance.

Vigil hummed thoughtfully before answering, “Decoration, I suppose.”

That might have been a joke, but Peep wasn’t sure.

But being genderfluid was a feature of Vigil, not a problem. No, it was the vigilante thing that was the problem. Every night after the labs had been shut up for the day the other apprentice sorcerers would head off to eat dinner together, or watch some shark jousting at the Oceania, or do other normal activities like flying. Meanwhile, Vigil would murmur a few words under their breath to shield their face with a spell, tuck the lab’s resident firekeeping dragon into their sleeve, and go out to foil evil.

It was a terrible hobby, which Vigil would know if they ever took Peep’s advice.

The root of the problem, Peep had decided, was that Vigil was so caught up with how they could that they never considered whether they should. Yes, Peep’s human was remarkably clever, anyone could see that. Vigil didn’t let the fact that they were only an apprentice sorcerer get in their way— they dyed their hair to look like it had been turned blue by frequent exposure to magic, had Peep sit behind their ear to make the quiet world more understandable, and coaxed the lab’s firekeeping dragon to stay in their sleeve and breathe fire on command. With their face hidden, Vigil passed admirably for a fully grown sorcerer.

But they weren’t one, and that was going to get them in trouble one day if Peep didn’t figure out a way to help them.

“You’re going to get hurt,” Peep informed Vigil as he piled boxes into his arms.

“What are you talking about?” Vigil muttered, balancing the pile with precision. “Nothing in the back room is dangerous.” He sidestepped another apprentice coming into the storage room and emerged behind the counter.

“Not in the back room. You’re going to get hurt while out foiling evil if you keep it up. This woman says thank you and keep the change, and the rude guy next to her is trying to get your attention by snapping.”

Vigil dropped the change into the floating tip jar and turned to the man.

Shifts at the lab’s storefront, where anyone could purchase potion ingredients and charms prepared by the apprentices in the labs, were Peep’s busiest times as a hearing aid. Vigil could hear well enough if it was one well-enunciated person alone speaking, but the chaos of the labs, with everyone talking at once, meant he relied on Peep the most.

“He wants one mud-repelling charm,” Peep reported as the man talked, “and make it quick because he’s an asshole, or because he got mud on his very expensive shoes, something like that.”

Vigil made his thoughtful face while listening, one of the many ways he filled the pauses before he could respond in situations like these. “Sorry, we’re out of those. Can I get you anything else?”

The man did not want anything else.

“He said a bad word at you,” Peep said virtuously, because it considered cursing very terrible unless it was done by someone it approved of.

“I could tell,” Vigil muttered, watching the man storm out.

Peep itself was watching someone else enter the store— a rather short knight-in-training in a very unfashionable cap. Peep considered itself an expert on fashion, as well as on poetry and Vigil’s safety. It was because of its expertise on that latter subject that it noticed the knight-in-training. It watched them go right to the shelves of magical candy on the other side of the room, and approved.

“This little kid at the counter wants ingrediants for a stink potion,” Peep repeated absentmindedly as it mulled over the newcomer, and Vigil went back into the storeroom.

He mumbled the ingredients to himself as he found them on the shelves. “Glass eggs, spider eyes—”

“Gross,” Peep commented. “You need friends.”

“—black-spotted mushrooms. Friends would make this less gross how?”

“They wouldn’t. But they might keep you out of trouble.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t need any. I like trouble.” Vigil went back to the counter and put the ingredients in the girl’s basket.

Peep took the opportunity to notice the knight-in-training again (they were still examining the candies) before turning back to its duties as a hearing aid.“She says thanks, and also that you need friends.”

“Quit it,” Vigil hissed, and greeted a regular customer who signed their request for a fever-reducing charm.

Peep quitted it for all of ten seconds before Vigil was searching the dusty back corners where the healing charms were stored. “You’re only a baby sorcerer, you can’t go around foiling evil all by yourself. Eventually evil will foil back.”

Vigil objected strongly to being called a baby sorcerer. “I hired a hearing aid, not a babysitter.”

“Wrong,” shouted Peep, who loved being right. “You hired a dragon, and a dragon always knows best.”

“Dragons also always live with several nest-mates, which you don’t have, so you’re one to talk about needing friends.” Vigil snatched a fever charm from where it had fallen on the floor with more violence than necessary and straightened up. There was a guilty pause. Dragons are excellent at telling when pauses are guilty. “I mean…” Vigil said quietly.

“Everyone needs friends,” Peep said, trying not to sound like it was going to cry. Unfortunately, dragons are as terrible at not sounding emotional as they are excellent at discerning guilty pauses.

Vigil stroked the tiny ridges of Peep’s back with one finger. “Hey, I didn’t mean that.” His voice was soft.

“I could have nest-mates if I wanted,” Peep said, still sniffling. Dragons’ lying abilities fall squarely between their skills at recognizing guilty pauses and not sounding emotional.

“Of course you could,” Vigil soothed. “You’re the best dragon I know.”

“Including Crackle?” Peep asked, wanting to be sure. “Crackle isn’t even that great of a firekeeper. I’m much better at being a hearing aid than it is at making fire.” Crackle had three nest-mates and its very own nesting hallow in the chimney over the lab’s fireplace, and was very conceited about it in Peep’s opinion.

Vigil abstained from passing judgement on Crackle. “You’re the best hearing aid a sorcerer could have. I’m sorry for what I said.”

Peep blew its nose on a lock of blue hair. “Ok.”

Vigil winced but didn’t comment on that. At the counter he gave the customer the fever charm and they exchanged a few words in sign language that Peep didn’t need to aid in, giving it time to search the room again for the knight-in-training, who was now carrying over a jar of blue candies to purchase. They looked at the apprentices behind the counter, all busy— and their eyes slid right over Vigil’s face without recognition.

Peep frowned to itself. They would never recognize Vigil as the hero who had saved them the other night on their own, not when Vigil had hid his face so well. Clearly, Peep had to intervene, for Vigil’s own good.

Pushing Vigil’s hair aside, Peep stretched itself out as far as it could without falling off his ear, and flapped its green wings urgently. The knight-in-training, not looking, didn’t notice. Humans were oblivious.

Peep flapped its wings some more, and puffed out some violet smoke. On the other side of the counter, the knight-in-training’s eyes flicked to the fading puff of violet in surprise, and followed it down to the tiny green dragon preening with victory, and then to the sorcerer it was perched on.

“You!” Kit shouted.

Peep quickly returned to its hearing aid position. “That knight person over there says ‘you!’ very loudly,” it told Vigil.

“Fuck,” Vigil whispered, trying to avoid the knight’s glare. “That’s the squire I helped the other night! How did they recognize me?”

“Big mystery,” Peep said unhelpfully.

The knight-in-training pushed their way closer to Vigil’s section of the counter, not to be ignored. “You’re that vigilante!”

“They say you’re a vigilante, and probably good friend material.” Peep gave the knight-in-training a wave. They waved back.

Vigil batted at his ear. “Stop that, stop being friendly! I’m a masked vigilante, people aren’t supposed to know who I am.”

The knight-in-training raised an eyebrow, looking at Vigil’s name tag. “In that case, why is your name literally the first half of the word vigilante? Doesn’t seem very masked to me.”

Peep crowed victoriously. “New friend! Can we keep them?”

the other stories about these characters can be found in my tag here. thanks for reading!

Reblogging this gem because it’s one of my favourite Seb pics and I replaced the original pic with a slightly bigger/better version. Here’s the other pic, because you want them both, trust me.

La Douleur Exquise Pt 1 | Incubus!Yoongi AU

summary: in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for.

warnings: demon summonings, lots of swearing, and a grumpy min yoongi (what’s new?)

genre: fluff, angst, humor, eventual smut (none in this chapter!)

words: 6.2K (FUCK!)

a/n: the preview got such good responses that I had to finish this right away! hope it stands up to your expectations! enjoy~ (pls ignore some grammatical mistakes; i still need to edit it a bit)

➵  part 1 (you’re here!) // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 (coming soon!)


In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea trying to recreate an ancient demon-summoning circle in the middle of your living room. If anyone asked you what had possessed you to do so regardless, you’d point fingers at your history professor for assigning the task in the first place. Although, you might concede that he didn’t technically ask you to assemble the summoning circle; all you were assigned to do was do some research about ancient summoning techniques with five to ten sources maximum. The problem with the assignment lied with the latter part of the requirements: the motherfucking references.

No matter how hard you tried to search for reliable photographs of professionally reenacted summoning circles, none of significant quality had popped up anywhere. You were seriously starting to consider attaching some DeviantArt fanart by the time you had reached page 67 on the Google search page.

In short, you were desperate—and desperation meant that you didn’t really think things through.

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Spoiled

REQUEST: A one shot where it’s your birthday and Harry wakes you up for breakfast in bed and spoils the hell out of you with loads of gifts and kisses and cuddles?

REQUEST: Can you do a fluffy fluff blurb or one-shot with Harry?

REQUEST: Can I pretty please request a fluffy Harry one shot? Love you Yeli

REQUEST: A fluffy blurb or something because I am craving your writings


Mushed all these together. Love you all! xx



You woke up to the feeling of Harry’s nose nuzzling into your cheek, humming a particular tune while his arms wound around your waist.

The two of you had been dating for a couple of years now, long enough that you spent at least fifty percent of the time at Harry’s place. And if you’d learned one thing about Harry, it was that he absolutely loved birthdays. He loved celebrating them, counting down to them, and he enjoyed other people’s more than he did his own. 

So when your birthday rolled around, you weren’t surprised that he was waking you up at the crack of dawn (or eleven a.m., if we’re being realistic).

Despite your best efforts to not smile you found yourself crinkling your nose, corners of your lips tilting upwards as you squirmed in his embrace. Now that you had given away that you were awake you turned your body so that your back was facing him, reaching to grab his pillow from across the bed and hug it to your chest with a soft grunt.

“Hey, m’right here, I’m more comfy than the pillow,” he complained, his fingertips digging into the soft pudginess of your belly. You squirmed once more, eyes still closed.

“Pillow doesn’t wake me up,” you teased, worming closer against the soft fabric. Harry audibly sighed, his voice at your ear.

“Alright, I’ll just put away all these presents, then…” Harry replied a bit melodramatically, starting to unravel his arms from around your body.

You suddenly opened one eye and turned your head to look back at him, your hands immediately trapping his against your belly so that he couldn’t escape.

“Presents?” You repeated, both eyes now wide open. You were like a little kid at Christmas.

“Tha’s what I said, innit?” he snickers, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against your lips. You puckered them to press a kiss against it, grinning. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before hopping off of you.

When you shifted around to sit up properly on the bed, he was holding a tray of what breakfast foods accompanied by a glass of apple juice. There was also a cup of water that held a single yellow rose in it, causing an elated grin to appear on your features.

“First thing’s first,” he said, setting the tray in your lap and reaching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Happy birthday, princess.”

“Thank you,” you grinned, feeling like the luckiest girl alive.

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Clowns are probably one of the most mistreated creatures people keep as domestic pets. So many parents buy clowns for their children’s birthdays without doing any research on how to properly care for their clown, and therefore, so many clowns live cramped, uncomfortable, and stressed lives! This is an easy to follow guide on how to properly care for your clown, to make sure they live the best life possible.

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It doesn’t take courage to kill someone. It takes a severe lack of moral stamina.

ASOUE week day 1: Favourite Episode/Book

The Hostile Hospital

I recently re-read it for the first time in many years (that makes me sound old lol) and it’s quickly become my favourite. It’s probably one of the creepiest books, if not the creepiest. 

“Why not wear mismatching shoes? Who says we can’t? I was just having fun. For me, fashion is all about fantasy and putting unlikely things together. That’s what I love. I genuinely love dressing up.”

Helena Bonham Carter on wearing mismatched shoes at The Golden Globes (2011)

4

Riggs emptying his waterlogged boots mid-interrogation (requested by @ohgressfuriosa)

anonymous asked:

Okay I gotta ask, what the heck is frisk's footwear. At first I didn't notice it, but now that I see it they look like combat boots.

They are combat boots! Or rather, combat boot style, since true combat boots don’t come that small. Frisk didn’t have mountain boots, so those are the best they could do.