The Stonewall Inn
Sade Olutola
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Love Begins
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
gracie abrams
h
One Nice Bug Per Day
#extradirty
ellievsbear
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Not today Justin
Fai_Ryy
Cosmic Funnies
noise dept.
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
we're not kids anymore.
Sweet Seals For You, Always
titsay
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Colombia
seen from Uzbekistan
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@wuekka
i was seeing all these little blue flowers everywhere and kept thinking "dang what are these bitches, i can't remember..." well guess what. they were fuckin forget-me-nots. can't believe i failed step fucking 1, the hot girls on iNaturalist are going to laugh at me and i'm gonna flunk out of hobby botany school.
!!! Learn From My Humiliation!!! THESE ARE THE BITCHES!!!! DO NOT FORGET THEM !!!!
ID: same image with the text "I forgor." End ID
Thank you for calming my anxiety/cheering up with cute moogle art/being a moogle! (wark)
I'm glad, if it helps! I hope whatever is going on at your Chocobo farm smooths out, kupo.
a random assortment of krih
don't know a thing about 3d printing!! but one day i'll make a whale skeleton that's small enough to hang from my ceiling like they have at museums and it's going to be sick as hell
my vision btw
HEY
Endless cycle
some pikas between bigger illus and work
This scene is SO good! Kris staring at Susie when asked do they like anyone is one of my favourite tropes...Pictures focusing on Kris's unrequited feelings for Susie but Susie talking about Noelle is so sweet too! I like Kris/Susie but only as one-sided.
It sounds like someone's playing a song on the other side
WAIT A MINUTE
Kris blushing when Susie mentions their flirting skills...
Krisp i love you so much please stop trying to beat me to death
Sooooo many silly sprites to draw I'm gonna explode
I FORGOT TO PUT THESE IN MY LAST POST!! They are so. Dumb
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” the exorcist said with a shake of her head. (She personally preferred the term incorporeal entities removal specialist, but it was impossible to advertise with.) “It was common knowledge your place was infested by the time you bought it.”
“Haunted,” the tired young man corrected. “I have ghosts, not bedbugs.”
“Good thing too,” she winked. “I wouldn’t know how to get rid of the latter for you.” She gave him a reassuring nod. “But your problem I can solve. Give my team twenty-four hours, or twelve if you’re willing to wait until the next full moon, and we’ll have your house cleansed top to bottom. Tell you what. If it turns out there’s more than four in there, I’ll give you the bulk discount too.”
“There’s six,” the young man replied. “But I do not want the whole house cleansed. I only want you to remove three of them.”
The medium-turned-businesswoman looked up from the form she had wanted to hand him. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t want the whole house cleansed, I don’t want it to be spiritually uninhabitable.”
“You-” She gaped. “Why on earth wouldn’t you want to sweep the hole house?”
Even through the fatigue on his face the young man looked indignant. “Because there’s kids in there!”
Her lips moved silently around unspoken words. “There’s…”
“Kids in there!” he repeated. “Children! Three of them. Two little ones and their older sibling, I think. They haven’t talked to me yet.”
“Sir, you’re talking about ghosts,” she emphasized.
“I’m talking about children,” he said stubbornly. “And I’m not throwing them out. They’re more scared of the others than I am!” He shook his head. “No, the wailing one in the attic and the two who keep scratching at the windows and leaving wet footprints on the carpet definitely need to go, there’s no reasoning with them. But the kids stay. If you can’t guarantee their safety during your procedure I will find someone else to help me.”
Never in her twelve years on the job— “Well,” she said hesitantly, looking at her potential client rather more nervously than before. “I suppose I could call in a colleague to…I presume some sort of personalized ward would do it.” She crossed her arms. “But this is highly irregular! It means a custom job. I won’t be able to give you a reliable estimate of the price, and it’s certainly going to cost you!”
The young man smiled the smile of a man who had very recently bought a twice cursed, triple haunted house both willingly and gladly. “We all live under the spectre of capitalism,” he said wryly. He dragged the form towards him and began to fill in his address. “The kids stay. Whatever the costs.”
Four months earlier…
“The place is fucking haunted. I knew it was too good to be true.”
It was the first time in a year and a half that he could confidently say he looked and felt just as tired as his sister. He shouldn’t have bought the stupid house. He should have questioned the price, shouldn’t have been taken in by the woodshop in the basement and the French windows.
“Maybe it’s not quite haunted,” his sister suggested hopefully. “Maybe it’s just cursed. You could get a witch in. I’m sure I could find you one, trans kids love growing up witchy.”
“No it’s definitely haunted,” he grunted, rubbing his face with his hands. “There’s some thing that wails in the attic whenever I go near it and whenever it rains there’s this awful scratching at the downstairs windows and four sets of footprints appearing on the carpet.”
His sister opened and shut her mouth, her optimism flagging.
“There’s hardly a whole mug left in the house, the keys to the attic just went missing, and then there’s the screaming every night and the sobbing every morning and my damn books being dragged around and stacked in front of my desk.
His sister took in a singing breath. “Sounds like kids.”
He lifted his head out of his hands, staring at her. “What?”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be that mom. I’m listening, I swear. It sounds horrible, I’m sorry.”
“No, what did you just say?” he pressed.
She gave him a tired, wry smile. “I don’t know about the attic and the windows, but, screams of terror in the night, crying in the early morning, things breaking and getting lost and being set out for you to find… Sounds like just like kids.”
He was still staring, almost frozen, at the lines of fatigue and determination etched into his sister’s face.
“You… You’d be able to tell a child’s cry apart from any other wouldn’t you?”
She snorted. “From five miles away with my ears plugged. ‘Only the birthing parent gets superhuman hearing’ my ass.”
“If I find someone to help Millie with the kids for an evening, will you come to my house to…listen to ghosts?”
It was now her turn to stare. “You think you’re haunted by children? By child ghosts??”
“I mean…” His mind passed frantically through every sensation of crowded panic he had ever felt in that blasted house. But it was his house now. His responsibility. What if there were kids in there? “Maybe!”
There was a single beat of silent, parental horror.
“Let me call Mill to sort something out.”
Book references in avatar fighting game! 👏
