#ecks barks back

[stunt-lads]

do the fic about carl being rawdogged we beg

Well I mean I can certainly try for you Anon ♡

Here's some of what I have so far ♡♡

“Know what, Rick? I've decided to go easy on ya. In exchange for me not killing a couple of your men, I'm gonna let you be the first to fuck your boy.”

"What?" Rick feels his throat close, and he looks up at Negan in disgust and fear, refusing to believe he's serious.

“We're gonna run a train on his ass.” Negan grins, baring his teeth in a false smile, “And like I said, I'm gonna let you be first because I'm such a stand up fucking guy.”

He laughs as he looks down at Rick, “You get to pop your boy's cherry.” He looks over at Carl then, and Rick's stomach twists in disgust and unease. He can't look in Carl's direction. He's afraid if he does, he'll actually break down and beg Negan to kill him instead.

“Shit, I mean, maybe. Or maybe this kid is a slut.”

He leers then and Rick feels his breath coming out in shallow pants, “He looks like a little slut.”

“I can't.” Rick whispers, voice hoarse and choked.

“You can't?” Negan mocks, looking back down at him, “Rick, I'm not giving you a goddamn choice.”

#ecks barks back #hey tumblr app fucking sucks for this #the formatting is terrible and i have such a Time of it #tumblr app is an app isnt it #anon #iidk how to tag this im so sorry #ask to tag #i guess thats the best way to do this

[antivanruffles]

💜Kanej with a side of Wysper

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss (huehuehue)

________________________________

It would be a lie to say he hadn't thought of it. He had, on multiple occasions, in multiple iterations. He might even admit to that, too, if he were asked outright by certain people. Or person, rather.

The truth was that the thought was never far from his mind.

Kaz would wake up and think about kissing Inej. He would go over reports and pieces of intel and think about kissing Inej. He would meet with his crew, his employees, other bosses of The Barrel, and he would think about kissing Inej.

In his mind it was appealing, something he practically yearned for, if he were being honest. Although he might not admit to it, no matter who it was that was asking.

In reality it was... daunting.

Kaz had never wanted these types of things before, and yet here he was, pining away like a silly school girl and too damaged to do anything about it.

It was at times like this Kaz was truly jealous of Jesper; who was always so easy and free with his affection. Who could--and would--happily fawn over Wylan, professing and displaying his love. Jesper never worried about holding Wylan's hand, or offering up a comforting hug. And Jesper certainly never worried about kissing Wylan. It was easy for them.

For Kaz and Inej it was more... difficult.

That didn't stop him from thinking about it though. Eventually he would have to do more than think, however.

He was at the Van Eck estate one evening, pretending to ignore Jesper and Wylan as they played footsie under the dinner table, when Kaz realized he'd had quite enough of pining.

Across the table Jesper, quick as you like, grabbed Wylan's hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. It was a simple gesture, and rather innocent, but it gave Kaz an idea. And that was all he needed to form a plan.

***

It was a week later when The Wraith sailed into the harbor, taking its spot in berth twenty-two, and Kaz went to greet its captain. Kaz would never say he rushed to fifth harbor, he merely went there with the utmost efficiency. 

The dawn had barely broken when he arrived, and the crew was already in the process of unloading the ship and preparing it for some much needed maintenance, the dock a flurry of action. Even so it was easy enough to spot Inej in the chaos and barking orders, her long braid streaming behind her in the salty breeze, her shoulders back and feet braced as she adjusted to being on dry land once again.

The early morning sun glinted off her until she looked like she was gilded in gold; a saintly statue come to life.

"Inej," he called and if he sounded a little breathless, well, nothing for it now.

She turned and started moving toward him in one fluid motion, her face lighting up with a smile as soon as she saw him. And not for the first time Kaz wondered what he had done in his twice damned life to have earned her affection.

Regardless, he would not be ungrateful. Kaz Brekker knew a treasure when he saw one, and Inej Ghafa was the most precious of treasures.

"You came," she said as she stopped before him. If she sounded a little breathless, he wasn't going to say anything.

"I said I would." At her last visit he had all but promised to always greet her at the docks when she arrived, after she commented on how much she looked forward to it.

"I know, but we're a day early."

"And you could be a week early or a week late, I would still come," he vowed. 

Inej didn't say anything, just beamed at him instead. They stood there for a long while, her crew working diligently behind them as the sun slowly rose on the horizon and the world started to come to life around them.

Eventually Kaz back to himself and remembered his plan. He stepped a little closer to Inej, enough to hear her slight intake of breath at his proximity. 

"I had a thought," he said. "If I may try something?"

"Of course." She nodded, tilting her head back to look up at him, eyes curious and full of trust. 

This was a game they had played many times before, learning what was permitted, what wasn't, and what might need to be revisited again later. Kaz lifted his bare hand slowly, his gloves tucked away in his pocket, as they always were when he welcomed her to Ketterdam and when he saw her off.

Inej watched as he moved it slowly toward her face. He paused, and she met his gaze. Kaz lifted his brows in question. Inej looked torn between amusement and bewilderment, but nodded nonetheless. Permission granted he gently laid his hand over her mouth, almost as if he were trying to shush her. Her eyes were amused and he could feel her lips twitching.

Kaz was happy to learn that this type of contact wasn't a problem.

Then, before he could lose his nerve, he ducked his head toward hers. His hand acted as a barrier, stopping any contact between their lips, but the motion was the same. The intent, he hoped, was clear.

They were so close that Kaz could see each individual eyelash framing her eyes, could count them if he were so inclined. Instead he watched as her eyes widened in surprise, and then softened considerably once she realized what he was doing.

After a moment she pressed a matching kiss against the palm of his hand.

Kaz felt his breath hitch, and pulled back slowly. He dropped his hand from her mouth, fingers opening and closing against the tingling of his palm. Inej was simply grinning at him.

He cleared his throat, and tried to ignore the fact that his cheeks felt overly warm.

"Welcome home, Inej," he said at length.

"It's good to be home." She stuck out her hand, offering it to him. He obliged her, lacing their fingers together before Inej started to tug him up the dock by their joined hands.

They would go find breakfast, and discuss whatever news she brought from the sea. They would trade information and secrets, as was their routine when she returned to Ketterdam, and Kaz would think about kissing her--as he always did.

Only now he would follow through on the thought, and next time... maybe next time they wouldn't need the barrier. 

#rainbow kisses meme #prompt fills #six of crows #kanej #LISTEN wesper is the PDA couple I don't care #and this turned into a Thing #help

[jiubilant]

Pilus-Prior Bassus of the Ninth Cohort is, above all, a practical man. When a footsoldier reports that the boy heaving up his guts in the Hviti isn’t a victim of bad beans, that he only killed a man on third watch last night, he laughs.

“If there were a problem with our provisions,” he says, waving the messenger off, “that would be something to worry about, auxilary. Dismissed.”

So the footsoldier thumps her mailed chest in salute, rattling the rusty links of her shirt, and ducks out of the officer’s tent. She feels eyes on her at once. They’ve been staring at her since she reported back from Eastmarch, the conscripts dicing around their fires, the tesserary frowning over his ledger, even the barking dogs; pretending nobly to ignore them all, she strides across the encampment with her chin aloft, curling her tail like a battle-standard.

It’s a bene day, she thinks. The birds are scolding each other, chirr-chirrup-chirr. The wheat is nodding in the wind, filling the fields with a summery, hot-oven smell. Bivvies and barricades cluster around Whiterun’s skirts, waiting for war.

And the boy, some distance from the tattered sea of tents, is still leaning over the river.

“Quit losing your legumes,” the footsoldier says, and hooks the collar of his vápntreyja with a punctilious claw. She’s afraid he might fall in. “Bassus”—she opens and closes her mouth like a fish, an old joke about the man’s namesake—“wants you on the wall.”

The boy, his hair crawling sweaty into his face, gives her a wretched look. Then he doubles over again.

She gathers back his hair, a Haafing tangle of bleached braids, and lets him dangle by it until he’s done. He makes an ungracious noise, then, still greenish, and wobbles off to collapse under a tree with roots gnarling out of the grass every which way. The footsoldier, after an amused pause, sits down with him. She waits. She eavesdrops on the river, foaming on the flat rocks, babbling with the wind in the trees.

“Sicked everywhere, meself,” she offers, once he looks like the mention of it won’t turn the tap again. “First time I stuck someone.”

The boy glowers at her. “Sure you did.”

“Did so.” The footsoldier squints her eyes in a smile; showing her teeth, which are sharper than most, tends to frighten folks. “Stops twisting your insides after a bit, though, and that’s the holey truth. Or my name en’t Shiv-In-Your-Side Scapegrace.”

That wins a horrified smile from the boy, like she’d hoped. She’s not sure why she keeps thinking boy—he looks her own age, or thereabouts. Eighteen. Nineteen.

“I’m Jorik,” he says, still smiling. It makes him look younger. “Jorik Oaken-Crook. Um. Really?”

“Alas, poor Jorik,” says the footsoldier, pulling a mock-mournful face, “really. Barely crammed it on the enlistment form.”

“No, I—I meant—”

“Hold on,” says the footsoldier, only half-listening. Fainting from hunger, she reasons, is best done on the ground, not on a battlement. She rummages in her pack. “Best eat something before you report back.”

The smile falls off the boy’s face. “Eck.”

The footsoldier snorts and resurfaces with a wrinkled apple. She moves to pass it to the boy.

Then she stares at it, remembering, of all things—

—ugh, she thinks, no—

—yes, remembering how her da, whenever she eyed an apple from a fruit-seller’s stall, would never hand it to her. He’d peel it with his penknife first, paring the tart skin from the fruit in one perfect, patient curl, and pass it to her slice by slice—until one day she’d snapped at him for it, not understanding what a slice of apple meant.

Now she feels queasy, too. Maybe it is the beans.

“You’ll not like it,” she says to the boy, because she’d better say something reassuring. He looks like he knows what a slice of apple means. She digs her claws—all she’s got—into the fruit. “Not with a sword. Not with a bow. Not with your teeth.” She wrenches the apple in half. It’s a mangled mess, now, bleeding juice all over her hands. “But it needs doing. Name like that—you’re a shepherd’s son, en’t you?”

Jorik, she notes, is turning greenish again. Alas. “Aye—”

The footsoldier, still busy with the apple, forestalls him with a claw. Then she holds out a dripping slice of fruit, scored all over, despite her best efforts, with oozy scars.

“Well,” she says. “Them marching here, poor Jorik”—she smiles with her teeth, now—“they’re only sheep.” 

The boy, pale as the inside of an apple, stares at her. He swallows.

Then he nods, as if she’s imparted some great wisdom, and takes the butchered slice from her hand.

* * *

“Rano,” calls Pilus-Prior Bassus across the encampment. “Or—Scapegrace, or whatever you call yourself. Third watch tonight.”

The footsoldier from earlier, who had abandoned the stewpot-line to duck quickly behind one of the tents, reappears.

“Yes, sir,” she croaks—looking a bit, thinks Bassus, like a sick cat. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then straightens into a crisp salute. “Bene day, sir.”

“That it is,” says Bassus, and watches her go. When he loses sight of her among the tents, he raises his eyebrows and turns to his tesserary.

“That one will go far,” he says with satisfaction. “She has the stomach for it.”

#skyrim #microfic #tesfest22 #prompt: confession #oc tag #shurri

[ringchollyandfriends]

Puppy's journey

June 6, 2022

-

I haven't updated yesterday because it feels like it's just me keeping track of Puppy getting scared and it feels weird.

-

I have to go back inside every time one of the neighbors is out, every time the puppy is out, etc. We can only enjoy time in the yard if nobody else is out.

-

Yesterday, he panicked because I played a video of someone talking and was stiff, barking, hackles and looking for someone even after I stopped the video.

-

Today, he saw the kid that talked to us again. First time, he panicked. Second time, he was curious, but nothing more. Third time, he got scared again. Not panicking, but still scared.

My parents are visiting soon and I'm hurt that I'm not going to be able to gush about how friendly my dog is. Instead, I'm going to stress and worry because they're staying for a few days and Puppy... is scared of people.

I want to enjoy their time here and I wanted to be able to enjoy them with my dog as happy as me. Eck, I was hoping my dog would be happier than me meeting people.

#puppys journey

[themerchliing]

"You need to stop," His mother's voice was pleading at the end of the hall. Pleading, and yet resolute in her words. "All these attempts are simply ruining his confidence! How could he run your Empire if he doesn't believe in himself? Jan, he could hire people to read for him if he really must--"

"And put his faith in any crafty fool who could delude him into signing away my businesses? Don't be daft, Marya!" His father barked. "That boy will learn. He must. What kind of man will he grow up to be if he cannot read!? A layabout! A bloody beggar! My blood will not run through the veins of a beggar."

"Jan--"

"That is enough, Marya. If you're so worried about him, then you teach him properly! That's all he needs of you." A door slammed. His father had left the house.

Hidden in a hallway alcove near the kitchen; seven-year-old Wylan sat with his back pressed against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. If words could be used as a weapon, then every cruel remark from his father would have easily carved through his flesh and shredded his heart until there was nothing left. They brought tears to his eyes that he aggressively rubbed away, ashamed to be crying like a baby. He knew everything that was spoken was nothing but the truth — how could he ever take over the Van Eck empire if he couldn’t read?

His mother always stuck up for him, putting herself in the firing line of his father’s ire despite knowing that it wouldn’t change a thing. Wylan often wondered if his parents would be happier if he wasn’t here. If something were to happen to him or if he ran away — an action he was too scared to go through with — would they move on? Would they raise an heir that was better than him in every way? His mother would be sad, wouldn’t she? Wylan didn’t doubt her love for him, but wasn’t he being selfish by making her go through this every day? His existence within the household was affecting her in ways she didn’t deserve. His inability to read and write was his own fault and it wasn’t fair she was being dragged down with him.

As the door slammed, signalling that his father had stormed out, Wylan waited for several minutes before he slowly uncurled himself. It was childish of him to want to rush to his mother’s side, to seek comfort in her embrace and the hand that so gently brushed through his hair. If his father witnessed such behavior, he would scold Wylan for acting that way. He would say that he had to grow up and that his mother wouldn’t always be there to save him. However, the thought didn’t stop Wylan’s legs from carrying him down the hallway, his fingers twisting together; a nervous habit. Upon finding Marya where Jan had left her, he felt the well of tears once more. He didn’t immediately rush to her, figuring it might be better to hold back in case she needed some distance.

“I’m sorry, Mother.” He swallowed. “Mr. Verhoeven will be here soon and I promise I’ll work extra hard today.” He’d do everything he could to get through the reading assignments, even when it reached that point during his sessions where he could feel his tutor losing patience with him.

“I’ll find a way.” Because what other choice did he have?

#lannamused #&; ( in character ) #&; ( answered ) #&; verse ( childhood ) #//uwu #//torture & death to jan van eck

[sailorwritesstuff]

Prophet

Mirabel fluff. based on one of my headcanon posts, I think it's the first one.

In which Mirabel brings home a new member of the Madrigal family. fluff

warnings: none, unless you don't want Mira to be fucking happy.

"Bye mamá I'll be right back! I'm going to go get a new journal from the store." Mirabel informed her mother, waving over her shoulder as she passed the kitchen and headed out the front door.

It was sunny out and she took a moment to pause in the wonderful feeling, before starting her journey. She bounced down the stairs, passed the villa gate, and continued down the path towards town.

she hummed some old song from when her mamá was young. She didn't know the words but her tio liked it and that was more than reason enough for it to make her grin. She paused her humming to spin herself like a princess, accompanied by a small squeal and followed by a giggle. Her lovely mood lasted even as she ended her journey to the bookbinders shop.

The door opened with an all too familiar 'ring ring'. Her Attention attracted the attention of Mr. Castillo who was working on a custom leather piece and his daughter Alicia who sat behind the counter. "Ay! Hola Mirabel. In for a new journal?" Mr. Castillo smiled from his desk. she laughed at his goofy smile and waved, holding up her now full to the brim journal she'd purchased just a month and a half ago.

"si, you know me so well Senor!" She made eye contact with Alicia who looked like she was searching for a way to escape. "I'm thinking maybe a one with blue details on the front this time." she rushed out of her mouth as she turned her head. Castillo looked at her knowingly

"Well you know where to look," he nodded.

"that i do." she muttered already looking through the shelves of Journals, Diaries, planners, and sketchbooks all hand bound with leather covers. she ran her fingers along the spines before finding exactly what she was looking for.

Black leather, blue details, with a ribbon attached. just like always. she grabbed it and a random sketchbook excitedly. "perfecta!" she smiled to herself.

"hola Alicia." she spoke politely as she approached the counter.

"Buenos uh… Buenos días Mirabel." she looked nervous to be speaking at all but it only made Mira's smile wider. she reminded her of her tio, awkward and anxious. "how'd you sleep?"

"Asombrosa! you wouldn't believe how good i feel today because of it. nothing a good night's sleep can't fix i guess."

"Except maybe like world hunger." Alicia seemed to say without thinking. "oh Dios mío lo siento mucho! I didn't mean that I was trying to make a joke-."

Mirabel slid her money across the counter. "I get it." she grabbed her things. "Que tengas un buen dia hermosa!" She shouted over her shoulder as she left and she heard Mr. Castillo's roaring laughter nearly over-shadowed the small "Eck-" his oldest daughter let out.

Just like that she headed back the way she came so she could make it home in time to join her mamá in the kitchen while she made Arepas for the townspeople, maybe even empanadas if she felt like shaking things up today. She held books close, preventing her mind from wandering by avoiding the cracks in the stone pathway wobbling until she heard a bark. un perro? she looked up in confusion. Dogs weren't very common in Encanto. Actually pets in general that weren't livestock weren't often seen. she clicked her teeth together to call for it so she could look for a tag.

"tch' tch' tch here perrito." her eyebrows furrowed as nothing came forward. She was going to try again but she was cut off by a whimper and a growl. two perros?

"Here, perrito!" she called setting her books down and straying from the path, to follow the whimpers and snarls through a small grove of trees. there in the center stood a much bigger Brown dog snarling and snapping at a small white puppy who looked hurt. her hand flew to her mouth and her body flooded with anger. face lit with determination she reached down and grabbed a good solid stick. "AY! Scram you heathen!" She was careful not to hit it even if it was violent. it snarled and she frowned "Vamos!" She Demanded getting closer. her closing the distance seemed to scare him off. she watched him leave completely before tossing away the stick with a huff. "...poor perrito." She slowly approached the white puppy reaching out to pet its small head. "you're hurt…" she muttered. picking up the small creature careful of its injured leg. She found her way back to the path almost forgetting her three books on the ground in her hurry.

She all but ran back to la casa de Madrigal. "Hola Casita" she addressed the door as she approached. it seemed to realize her arms were full because Casita opened its door for her to come in.

"Mija, is that you? you're back quick. you usually stop and talk to the kids." her mom called from the kitchen making Mirabel jump.

"uh- yeAh-" her voice cracked nervously. "I just remembered I had a sewing project I told Isabela I'd work on for her?"

silence.

Mirabel began creeping slowly towards her room.

"really…?" her mom sounded amused. "alright then." just as the words left her mouth Mirabel Booked it down the hallway and into her room she closed the door tight and leaned against the wood. "dios mio…" she whispered. "you would have gotten me in so much trouble perrito." She put her armful of books to the side and laid the little puppy down.

"lets see…" she checked its underside for clues on what to call it. "ah, it's a chico."

she smiled scratching his stomach eager to watch his little tail wag.

"we should fix that leg huh? stay…" She was about to say stay here but then she realized. 'where would he even go, estúpida?' She stood up and left her room, closing the door behind her only to be face to face with her oldest sister.

"Hola, hermana." Isabela smiled widely. uh oh. "You would not believe the funny little thing I heard today!"

"mmhm? really?" She leaned nervously in her door frame using her body as a barrier so it couldn't be opened. "What was it?

"Well I was in the kitchen with Mamá when I heard apparently I had asked you to sew something for me. But I can't seem to remember what it was. Can I see?"

"NO." She panicked. "I uh...I mean no you can't see it because I'm going to the kitchen to see if mamá Will fix me some soup. I'm not feeling well. you know the one i like with the chunks of pork."

"are you hiding something from me?"

"no?" Isabella's eyebrow rose in suspicion "Okay yes."

"AHA! I knew it."

It's a gift for the family for 6 months of good communication and change. Okay admittedly that part wasn't a lie. She had been working on a gift for the family and if we get Isabela off her back.

"...fine. but I don't feel like you're telling me the whole truth. I'm watching you, Mirabel." She walked off back in the direction of the kitchen and Mirabel let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Casita. don't let anyone else in here ok?" The tiles beneath her feet shook and what she took as a "yes ma'am"

"Thank you!" she bounced off towards the kitchen. "Mamá! Do we have any soup left? I'm not feeling well."

"We should have a little leftover. You have to warm it up on the stove. Do you want to go lay down and I'll bring it up to you?

"no. I can do it myself. I'm just a little cold, yah know? I think Tia Pepa is A little upset." she spoke while finding what was left of lunch, a few days prior.

"I suppose you're right, it is a little chilly inside today." Julieta reached for a small pot and put it on the stove next to her work space. "How was your walk?"

"good! Alicia was in today."

"Did you play nice? you know she's rather sweet on you?" Julieta smiled. "you could have yourself a sweet Novia."

Mirabel wrinkled her nose. "Mmm, I did play nice. I called her beautiful."

"That's not what I meant. flirting only makes the poor girl more flustered." Julieta frowned. "There's talk of her getting engaged, ya know?"

"really? So soon? She's only 16."

"Dolores says it's a business deal." her mom frowned and beside her Isabela's mood soured. flowers growing through the tiles. Mirabel got too distracted by her sister's aura to notice her soup began to boil. "Querida. your soup."

"oh! right sorry… i think I actually might just go eat them in bed she smiled apologetically as she poured the soup into a old bowl. One of those ones that don't really match the other main scheme but the family kept it anyway because It was still a working bowl. This one was a God awful blue with yellow polka dots and if she remembered correctly her tio had made it in school when he was much younger. Julieta smiled at the ugly bowl in her daughter's hands. "alright. Don't break that bowl going up the stairs. It's one of my favorites."

"I won't." she called out disappearing from her mother's sight back up to her room. opening the door and sliding in she almost dropped her bowl at the sight of her Tio Bruno sitting on her bed. "JESUS CHIST-" She slammed her hand over her mouth "what are you doing in here?" she whispered loudly.

"oh me? I'm here for this little guy."

"what? did...did you have a vision about us?!"

"AH- knock knock knock. knock on wood."

"you did!"

"What did you see? Can I keep him?" she asks, placing the bowl of soup on the floor. and crossing the room to pick up the puppy so he could eat.

"I don't know, I didn't see that far." her Tio shrugged. "You should give him a name though. We can't refer to him as the dog." She pets his head softly as he eats beside her.

"How about, Prophet. because you saw her in a vision." she watched him tossed salt over his shoulder at the 'v word', getting it all on her blanket.

"TIO- '' she started to start scolding him for getting salt on her pillow but stopped when they heard a 'eek-' from the door.

Dolores.

"well... They were going to find out eventually." she sighed. "come on Prophet, let's go meet la familia!"

#disney encanto #encanto #encanto headcanons #encanto fluff #mirabel madrigal #get Mirabel a dog 2021 #tio bruno #bruno madrigal #Isabela is onto everything #encanto 2021 #camilo madrigal #bruno and Mirabel

[wordsthatresonate]

Introducing Wylan Van Eck

pampered prince or disappointing son?

a hunted cub, on the run

there is weakness, 

and there is helplessness 

and then there is shame

all the privilege in the world and still no legacy to claim

I tried as best as I could, at the end, it didn’t matter either way

the bravest day of my life was the day I ran away

the second I felt those cold hands around my throat

and fought and sputtered and struggled to stay afloat

I vowed that would be the last time I’d ever be open to attack

I vowed in that moment that I was never, ever, going back

I spent way too much time on what I couldn’t, instead of what I could do

and now I promise I’ll get my revenge 

I’ll blow up the whole goddamn world if I have to

you left me to die

not a tear in your eye

but to be fair I have to thank you in the end

I owned all I needed to survive and didn’t even know I had it

you expected me to die but like with everything else I failed miserably at it

look at me now

I am every lie that I have ever faked

and ever fire I’ve ever made

you thought I was useless? you thought I was weak?

a literate but stupid, defected freak?

well, who could really say, maybe you’re right

turns out it doesn’t matter if you can bark when you can bite

and bite I do

I bite till I’m through

I learned to survive, no thanks to you

remember, remember, don’t be unafraid, I’m coming for you

don’t be surprised when you’re ultimately offed

its your own goddamn fault, should’ve let me stay soft

//click to check out my favourite Wylan quotes, because he's a sweetheart and can blow me up whenever he wants

#crooked kingdom #helnik #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #leigh bardugo #nina zenik #six of crows #wylan van eck #wesper #jesper fahey #Instagram

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Golden Apples and Lead Consequences"

*the Apollo, Artimes, Dionysus, Hermes, Heracles, and Ares all marvel at another golden apple that had been found hiding itself like a cursed Easter Egg*

Hermes: wooooow.....I wonder how Eris came in and hid this?

Ares: Nah, according to her, these things just appear out of nowhere sometimes. Even she doesn't know when or where they appear.

Apollo: .....yes but why though?

Artimes: bro, thats a stupid question, they're called "Apples of Discourse" for a reason.

Apollo: *unamused but he knows she's right* well....one appearing here years after the battle of Troy really doesn't seem like a good sign.

Dionysus: I wonder what they taste like.....

Heracles: hmf. Probably bitter. I've heard rumors that eating these can do terrible things to you.

Dionysus: like what?

Ares: Make you shit from your mouth, bleed from your pores, give you a mild case of gas or something.

Heracles: I heard it can make you grow more arms and legs and a whole new organ. Truly unsavory stuff.

Hermes: *sort of plays with the apple* .....well...all that has happened with mortals.....maybe it doesn't do anything to gods?

Artimes: .....well....I don't know....I'm not eating something that grows like THAT and just appears out of buttfuk nowhere.

Apollo: Than again, maybe this is what ambrosia is made out of?

Dionysus: or nectar *licks his lips*

Ares: *kinda wants to eat it but he knows Eres has an obvious trick up her sleeve* ....fuck it *gets his sword, cuts it in 6 pieces* If anything happens....we all have a GREAT reason and the perfect person to blame.

Dionysus: *takes a slice*

Apollo and Artimes: *takes a slice each*

Hermes: *takes a slice as well*

Heracles: hmm........I'm going to stand by my decision and not take a slice.....

Ares: *takes a slice* why? Too much of a pussy?

Heracles: no. In case you all may need assistance.

Dionysus: "Designated Demi-god", I like the sound of that. Can't party without safety net.

Heracles: *sits back and watches the gods each take a small bite*

Artimes: *takes a few seconds and spits her piece right out* ECK! Da fuk? It takes like Soaked wool! *Her brown hair now turns pink* AH! GREAT MY CAMO IS FUCKING RUINED!

Apollo: *chews his a little* funny, mine tastes like a regular apple. *He suddenly grows donkey ears and notices everyone stares at him* ..... What?

Dionysus: ugh, it's got a hint o-*gags a little and pukes what looks like tiny flowers* !

Hermes: *hasn't even taken a bite yet a decides to put his down* .....of so that's what it does...*turns to Ares only to find a baboon with wings wearing his aromor* .....

Ares: ......to be fair....I ate Heracles's slice too. *Scratches himself with his foot*

Heracles: *not even sitting comfortably for more than 5 seconds everything goes to shit* .....should I fetch father?

Apollo: *feels his new ears* AH!

Dionysus: *coughing up flowers* Fuk! Yeah go get hi-*pukes out more grass flowers*

Hermes: Already did. *Now Zeus is next to him*

Zeus: ....oh dear.

Dionysus: *coughs up the last few flowers from under the table, stands up and now he has a bull's head* ah, finally...*rubs his head and feels his new face* ...oh...fuk....This is going to make sleeping with Ariadne very awkward.

Apollo: *only has donkey ears and nothing else* YOU THINK THATS AWKWARD! LOOK AT ME! I'm hideous!

Artimes: At least you can hide those ears! I can't hide anywhere! I stand out like a sore thumb!

Ares: *actually not minding his new monkey existence and now currently is thinking of the Donkey Kong theme* .....so dad....can you fix this?

Zeus: Now now, there is no cure.... however since all of you have only eaten a part of the golden apple, it's effects are temporary. Just keep to yourselves, and wait for the effects to wear off....and I hope ALL of you learned a valuable lesson.

Dionysus: so Hermes why didn't you take a bite? *Scratching behind his ear* ooh that feels good ~°.

Hermes: I was.... until Artimes mentioned it's taste.

Dionysus: mine tastes like a rotten cabbage.

Ares: brussel sprouts.

Apollo: mine just tasted like a regular apple.

Zeus: figures. Golden Apples accomodate to the consumer's least desired palette.

Dionysus: *turns to apollo* dude you hate apples?

Apollo: no. It's just that out of all the things I've eaten-

Artimes: which isn't much.

Apollo: *light glare* Apples aren't something I find incredibly delicious, I just find them underwhelming.

Hermes: I see you've eaten a Red Delicious.

Apollo: is it big, extremely red and bulky?

Hermes: yes.

Apollo: ok, what's the matter with a red delicious?

Hermes: if you ever want to consume tree bark and sand than it's the right apple for you.

Apollo: ....you mean...there's.... OTHER apples?

Heracles: No offense dear brother but I believe after this ordeal you wouldn't want to even remember the existence of apples.

Apollo: *pulls down his ears*....I guess you're right.

Zeus: Don't worry, everything will be fine....but if you feel a little impatient.... *Casually takes out a pair of scissors* *snip snip*

Apollo, Artimes and Dionysus: *looks to each other, screams and all three run off*

Hermes: .......*turns to Ares* and what about you?

Ares: *on Heracles picking and grooming little things from his lion pelt* nah I'm fine.

#greek mythology #greek bros #greek gods #hellenistic #greek myth memes #dionysus #apollo #hermes #artimes #ares #Zeus #heracles

[stunt-lads]

𓍊𓋼𓍊 You aren't annoying your friends with your interests. They love you and it's a reassuring gage of your mental state when you rant and rave about your obsessions. The silence of obsessions abandoned is terrifying. 𓍊𓋼𓍊

I'm going to eat u

#i know who this is and ily ♡ #ecks barks back #anon

[popculturebuffet]

Porky Pig Black and White Birthday Special!

H-h-hello you happy people! And it’s time for my first birthday special for  Looney Tune! While I covered some with Tex’s birthday last week, this is the first of these specials i’ve done to cover one of their stars.. and it’s apporirate it starts with their first big one: Porky Pig! 

Yes for those of you who didn’t know, and until a few months ago that included me turns out Porky wasn’t always a second banana who still had an iconic habit of closing out shorts with his signature “T-t-that’s all folks!’. He was Warner Bros first big star and mascot. Like Daffy would do in Porky’s own shorts he started out  as a sidekick in shorts for Beans the Cat

No one Brak, that’s why eventually Beans, who was a diet Mickey outside of his first short, which we’ll get to in a moment, got the boot while the stuttering adorable pig got the starring role instead. Porky was the studio’s big headliner for years and years.. but most wouldn’t know it. Outside of Porky in Wackyland, none of his shorts without Daffy or Sylvester really got a lot of play on Cartoon Network or other repackages, likely because most were black and white and for whatever reason they didn’t mix them in. But after seeing oh so many in the menu for Looney Tunes on max I was super curious, and thus super excited for this day to come so I could take a look and see how they held up, holding off watching them so they’d be fresh. And outside of three shorts: his first appearance, one suggested by my friend Blah and one picked by my Patreon Emma, as one of the perks for my patreons is getting to pick a cartoon when I do one of these 10 cartoon specials, I just went with my gut, what sounded interesting or what have you, avoidnig the ones where he was Daffy’s sidekick and what not to focus soley on porky hamself to see how he stacked up alone. 

How’d it turn out? Well join me after the cut for a nice pile of ham, bacon, sausage and other pork products as we dig into everyone’s favorite pig. Well almost everyone I have my own favorites. 

Yes yes you are sweetie. Reviews of 10 Porky Shorts, all but one in black and white, under the cut.  Trigger warning: One of these shorts involves attempted suicide Yes really. So if that’s a trigger for you, please avoid this review entirely or if you want to just avoid that specific entry, the one on Porky’s romance. Thank you. 

1. I Haven’t Got A Hat (1935): Bope A Dope A Dope Dope

As I mentioned Pre-Porky, Warner didn’t have a star to compete with Disney, and given Disney was so character based, and a lot of these shorts were coming out at the same time Disney was spinning Donald off into his own series giving them TWO huge stars, it was clear Warner needed at least one to complete. So they came up with a plan: a knock off of Our Gang, aka what would later be dubbed The Little Rascals, starring a bunch of animal kids to see if one or all caught on. As you can tell one did but as the intro made clear it took them a few shorts to realize it. 

The short is about a school recital to raise money for the teachers, just in case you thought them being underpayed was a new thing. So it’s really an excuse for four diffrent segments of hyjinks following a diffrent kid or kids each. Our first is the reason this one is here, porky’s introductoin where he stutters, and struggles throught he midnight ride of paul revere. It’s alright mostly do to his animated actions like the above seen simulating hi mriding his horse. Not bad but like a lot of Porky jokes it relies on his stutter which wasn’t funny to me as a kid or now as an adult, and comes off pretty inesnitive in hindsight, especially as the stutter was a medical condition of his voice actor that forced him to retire and be replaced by Mel Blanc after “Porky’s Romance”, which we’ll get to.

The other three bits are likewise decent: Kitty, a small cat, nervously makes her way through mary had a little lamb next, whic is fine enough. My faviorite is after here, Ham and Ecks, two puppies performing the title number, which is mostly funny because they sing like normal kidddies.. except after saying the title name with Ecks suddenly going in very low. it’s not bad. 

Finally we have Beans and Oliver Owl. Beans wants to get back at Oliver for not sharing Candy so he puts a dog and cat in his piano. It’s colossal, it’ stupendous.. it’s mediocre! As is the whole short, not bad bits, but only the title track is super memorable. It is easy to see why Porky stuck out the most though with his stutter and neat design. As mentioned it would take warner a few shorts to realize his appeal but once he did he was off to the raises and the next three shorts are all from the very next year. 

2. The Blow Out (1936): Insert Silly Jig Music Here

This one is simple but it works: A mad bomber, what bombs in broad daylight, is setting up time bombs and being hammy. Meanwhile Porky, whose still a kid in this one, wants a big old soda float and only has half the money, but after helping a guy pick up his cane on relflex, starts helping people pick up their items. You can see where this is going and the climax is damn fun as you’d expect from Tex Avery. The runner of Porky doing a silly little dance with a catchy musical sting as he trops the pennies he gets in his pocket is also pretty neat. Not the best he’s done, given I did a whole birthday special last week he’d get much better, but still some fun silly stuff. 

3. Plane Dippy (1936): Spin It! Even better, with a simple premise: Porky joins the army, we get some hyjinks as he does the tests and then he’s assigned to dust a remote plane that Kitty ends up accidently directing when talking to her dog. There’s some really fun screwball stuff here, though the ending is a bit weak, everything else is pretty strong. The pattern for the last three holds: not the best thing i’ve seen from Disney, Warner or MGM, but pretty neat. 

4. Porky In The North Woods (1936): Turtle Paddlin

This one’s a disney style picture as Porky sets up an animal refuge, only for an egotistical hunter to outright ignore his signs and presumed legal right and set up traps then try and kill Porky for daring to. undo his traps.. in an area outright labeled as an animal sanctuary. I’d say just hunt somewhere else but as the modern republican party has proven Stubborn assholes afraid of change won’t just go away or obey the law. The animals return Porky’s kindness by kicking hte guys ass, the best bit being some turtles grabbing some paddles and giving him what for, to the point I screencapped that bit specically.

But other than the Climax it’s just alright, but the hammy villian does help elevate this one. 

5. Porky’s Romance: I made a Huge Mistake

This one was one I picked out I knew wasn’t on Max but curious about Petunia’s first apperance, I added it to the rotation anyway. 

I’m not sugarcoating it because this short dosen’t deserve it: This is the worst of the shorts i’m covering here today. It is pure awful distlend into 7 LONG minutes. 

As some of you may recall, back when I did my first shortravaganza for Donald Ducks birthdy, I reviewed Donald’s Diary, the last Daisy short and one with some pretty cute Donsy stuff but ends with him reconsidering proposal like a jackass because he asasumes marriage will be terrible and she’ll turn abusive and “GASP” make him do chores like a responsible partner. It’s one half a good short, and one half a really bad short. 

You want to see the truly terrible version of that done years earlier, on less of a budget and only satisfying at hte very end? No. Well I didn’t either but that’s what I got. The short starts okay, with a bit introducing Petunia in am eta way. But the short itself after that little meta bit?

The short has Porky lovingly picking out choclates and a ring for Petunia. Petunia in this short.. is a horrible monster who dismisses him out of hand and only lets him court her to get his choclate, her dog barks at him trying to get some, so their all assholes, and she outright laughs at his proposal. 

It’s here where I needed a trigger warning, as Porky tries to kill himself over it. So we have a woman using a prospective partner for finacials and her real intentions driving him to suicide. I.. why would you put this in here. How is this funny? or entertaining? Or anything I want to watch in a looney tune? I don’t want to watch Porky get depressed and try and hang himself. No one wants that and if you do, please get some help. 

He hten has a dream, hence the comparison, of an awful wedded life with Petunia where he does everything, and she GASPS puts on weight.. even though...

He wakes up, finds Petunia likes him now but leaves, takes the choclates and kicks the dog. Haha he’s sitll not a good person. 

As you can tell, this short is throughly miserable. It’s not funny, it’s not tearjerking, it uses sucicide for some reason and takes a dark tone, and is VERY sexist saying “Well women be like this you know” it feels like. It also makes VERY light of domestic abuse, and while that was the style at the time it dosen’t make it any better. Tackling either suicide or domestic abuse is fine, their very important issues.. but don’t put them in your looney tune, for god’s sake. I do not get the tone they were going for but I hate it. I HATE THIS ONE. Do not watch it it bad. Let’s please move on. 

6. Porky’s Garden (1937): It’s A Me! An Itallian Sterotype!

My good friend Emma, whose now one of my patreons, picked this one mostly because it popped up on youtube when she did a youtube search. ironically she herself is itallian and i’m 100% convinced she had no idea what this cartoon contained: Porky versus an itallian sterotype for a county fair prize. Now is this the worst thing Looney Tunes has done? Nope the censored eleven exist, Porky’s Romance exists and Loontics unleashed exists, so i’ts not the worst but it’s still just very cringe inducing that the only joke the guy has is “laugh at the evil foreigners funny accent” It’s not very good, not worht your time, and has weird popeye joke for some reason. 

7. The Case of the Stuttering Pig (1937): The Creampuff in the Third Row This one could’ve been done for Halloween, as Porky deals with a lawyer turned into a monster stalking him and Petunia.. whose possibly his sister here which somehow makes Porky’s romance even worse but given the unviersal adaptor cast of the looney tunes, i’m assuming it wasn’t. That short is horrible enough own without that little chesnut. The short is dripping with atmosphere but on the whole is just okay, though the runner about the villain insulting a guy in row three only for that guy to get even at the end and save the pigs is pretty great not going to lie. 

8. What Price, Porky? (1938): Daffy!

I purposefully chose not to have as little of other looney tunes as possible, in order to make this Porky’s day. As you can tell for the most part that’s been a mistake but even the one with Daffy is just okay, but at least has a creative premise. Porky is a farmer, a surprisingly common theme, and some local ducks are stealing his Chicken’s corn. So while he tries to ask them nicely not to, the general, played by daffy, attacks. Sadly he’s barely in it but we do get some neat gags and it’s far more of a ride than the last few. The ending is bad, the ducks win despite being the antagonists, but still pretty fun. Thankfully we’ll be getting more Daffy in April. 

9. Porky’s Hare Hunt: Halfway To Bugs

As you can tell this day ended up being kind of a disapointment: Porky just isn’t the most intresting leading man and ended up working better as a straight man.  I still genuinely love the character, but it’s clear there was only so much you could do with him in the lead and by the end here, he was either being sidelined so Chuck Jones could do something else like the last one or made the foil to someone goofier often daffy but our last two, and today’s two best, this one being secon dbest, prove whyt hey’ve stuck to that since. 

This one has him hunting a Rabbit whose a bit nuts and utterly delightful, a prottype for bugs.. and for woody woodpecker, whose va he shared, and Screwball Squirreel. THANKS...FOR...THAT... but unlike screwy, this rabbit at least is being hunted, so we get a fun breezy short with some goofy antics and a loveable protgangsit going up against Porky as the antagonist. Good stuff. 

10. Porky in Wackyland: Ending on a High

As I said this ended up being kind of a slog. I wanted to honor Porky by showing his solo career and instead found it dated with a few good shorts.. but only a few really held a candle to the disney stuff going on at the time or the warner stuff to come later like Porky’s Hare Hunt and the Blow Out. Otherwise it’s pretty standard outside of the previous entry.. and there’s only one true masterpiece. This one. Porky in Wackland. 

Porky in Wackland is just Bob Clampett going nuts for 7 minutes and it’s glorious to watch. Porky is hutning for the last Dodo and ends up in the utterly deranged and wonderous wacky land. The only bit that does not work in this entire 7 minute orgy of weirdness is a refrence to the jazz singer with a creature screaming mammy that’s a slight caracture of a black person. I’ve seen much worse but i’ts still eesh. But unlike some shorts, that dosen’t slow it down for long and it’s almost etnirely just fun, utterly batshit stuff and a great chase with the dodo himself at the end and one hell of a warner brothers logo gag. Check this one out, it’s admired for a reason. Tremendous stuff. Should be on max with.. that bit.. edited out. 

So that was a look into Porky’s solo career and yeah, I can see why he’s better as a straight man. I still love the guy though and he has lasted as long as his brothers while others from this time were forgotten> He’s still a good character.. he’s just better paired with Daffy or someone else, part of a team. As a solo act.. he’s just okay but as part of a group.. he’s sensational. 

If you liked this review, reblog it, follow me for more and join my patreon. Until then...

#looney tunes #porky pig #porky pig's birthday #petunia pig #daffy duck #what price porky #the blow out #haven't got a hat #plane drippy #the case of the stuttering pig #porky's romance #porky's hare hunt #porky in wackyland #porky's garden #porky in the north woods

[tamatoashiny123]

The Paris Pilfered Identity Case

This is a story I wrote a few months ago. I hope you like it!!!   :)

Boasting an annual 9.6 million viewers, the Louvre is the world’s largest art museum, located in Paris, France. Not only did the museum hold 38,000 historic artifacts and art pieces, its glass pyramid exterior was considered to be a work of art all by itself. 

One of the pieces of art located in the museum was the Seated Scribe sculpture. An ancient Egyptian work of art discovered in 1850 by Auguste Marriete, it depicted a scribe at work while in a seated position. And tonight, it was the target of Carmen Sandiego’s latest caper. 

Using her wrist-mounted grappling hook, the thief zipped up to the pyramid’s top point. “I’m in position,” she told Player (her hacker accomplice) through the communicators in her earrings. “Are the security systems and cameras deactivated yet?”

“They’re offline,” Player reported. “Considering how many valuables are in there, you’d figure their security systems would be a bit harder to turn off.”

“But I’m only after one thing: the Seated Scribe,” she reminded him. 

“Yep. Steal it and replace it with the phony sculpture before V.I.L.E. can get their hands on it and add it to Countess Cleo’s collection. Then, after V.I.L.E. takes the bait, you stealthily give back the real one to the proper authorities.”

As Carmen leaped to the section of the roof under the museum’s Egyptian Department, a car pulled up. It wasn’t a getaway car operated by Zack and Ivy, however (Carmen decided to take this as a solo mission while the pair stayed behind to fix up their base in San Diego along with Shadowsan). It was the car piloted by A.C.M.E agents Chase Devineaux and Julia Argent.

“If La Femme Rouge thinks zat she can waltz into my home territory of France and steal ANYTHING, she has another thing coming,” Chase told his partner as he popped a mint into his mouth. “Tonight is ze night zat Carmen Sandiego's career as a no-good thief comes to a decisive end!” 

“Well, maybe she’s acting preemptively in order to protect the object she’s stealing. There’s been a rash of Egyptian artifacts from museums all over the world recently,” Julia reminded her partner. “And it appears Carmen Sandiego is heading towards the Egyptian section of the museum right now.”

“No doubt Miss Sandiego was ze mastermind of zose other objects' disappearances as well.”

“But the few eyewitnesses we’ve gotten have all reported seeing men speeding away from the crime scenes. No girls.”

“Have you forgotten? Our little thief is a master of disguise. No doubt she posed as a man during zese crimes to throw us off her scent. But it'll take far more zan such acts of cross-dressing to shake ME off her trail. Now, let’s catch ourselves a thief!” he shouted, exiting the car and running towards the entrance.

“But shouldn’t we wait for backup?” Julia shouted to deaf ears. Frustrated, Julia looked up towards the roof, where she saw the thief cut a hole in the roof and slipped inside. Thinking, she grabbed her own A.C.M.E.-issued grappling hook and ran towards the roof. 

oOo

Removing the glass case off of the statue, Carmen removed the decoy statue from her coat’s inside pocket. With precision (as to not activate the pressure plate the artifact was no doubt placed on top of), she took the real Seated Scribe and immediately replaced it with the sham sculpture. As she deposited it into her coat pocket, Chase entered, his gas gun deployed.

"Hands where I can see zem, Miss Sandiego," he ordered.

She did as instructed. “As you wish, Inspector,” she sarcastically responded before lunging forwards and kicking the gas gun out of his hands, causing a small cloud of knockout gas to puff out. 

As Chase covered his mouth and nose with his jacket to avoid inhaling the gas, Carmen used her grappling hook to zip up through the hole she had come through. But waiting a foot away from the hole when she came up was Agent Argent, pointing her stun-laser pistol at the thief (Chief only gave Julia the laser pistol out of the pair as to minimize the damage Chase caused).

“Agent Argent,” Carmen casually greeted Julia, seemingly unfazed at the weapon being pointed at her. 

“Miss Sandiego, I trust you have a valid reason for your thievery of this artifact.”

“Of course I do: steal it before V.I.L.E can, then return it when their attention moves elsewhere.”

Julia smiled. “As I suspected. And I can confirm that you weren’t behind the recent global robberies of Egyptian artifacts?”

“Couldn’t stop them in time,” she explained. “So I decided to stop here to make sure V.I.L.E. couldn’t add this one to their list. So, now that I’ve fully explained my actions, I can take off now, right?”

“Miss Sandiego, you know I want to let you run off into the night, but...my job.”

“I get it. Your ‘job’: to catch thieves like me, per order of the Chief.”

“Well, yes-”

“But I’m a thief who works for the force of good! Doesn't the Chief know that?”

“I’ve tried to convince her of that so many times, but-”

“She doesn’t believe you.”

“It’s just given all the evidence-”

“I get it. Really, Julia, I do. But I won’t let you, your snooty partner, or any other A.C.M.E. agent get me-AUGH!”

Neither girls had noticed Chase climbing up onto the rooftop with his own grappling hook, sneak behind the thief, and jab her in the spine with his taser, causing her to collapse.

“Excellent work, Agent Argent,” he congratulated his partner as he ingested a celebratory mint. "Distracting her while I sneak up from behind and finish her off once and for all!"

“But sir,” Julia argued with her, “I was just talking to her. She was explaining to me that-”

“All lies she was spouting, I'm sure,” Chase cut her off. “Now zen, let's strip her of all her gadgets and get her into ze car. Ze Chief is going to get a little surprise tonight...

oOo

As luck (or quite the opposite of luck for Carmen) would have it, the Chief was in town to review evidence for a separate crime V.I.L.E. had committed. In his infinite wisdom (which drowned out Julia’s legitimate wisdom), instead of calling her to pick up Carmen from the museum, he decided to drive the thief to the police station the Chief was at the time, which was a few miles away.    

 Carmen was disarmed of all her tech (grappling hook, earring communicators, all the small gadgets that lined her coat pockets) as well as the Seated Scribe (nestled safely in the car’s glove box). Her arms were handcuffed behind her back and (on the orders of Chase) she was gagged with a white handkerchief between her teeth. 

“I will not let ziss thief try to use her charming words to get out of ziss one,” Chase bragged. “You are getting brought to A.C.M.E. custody whether you want to go or not.”   

“Nuh-guh oww-zee ee-eck-ib,” the thief muttered into the cloth gag.

Chase sat up front while Julia sat in the back next to Carmen in order to keep an eye on her. As the car sped off towards the police station, Julia gave Carmen a sympathetic look. 

“I’m so sorry it had to come to this,” Julia told the thief. “I hope Chase’s taser didn’t sting you too badly.”

“Do not apologize to ze criminal!” Chase chastised her. “She deserved ze voltage of my taser after all of the ze times she humiliated me! And no one humiliates Chase Deni Devineaux without suffering ze consequences!”

In response, Carmen delivered a hard kick to the back of his seat. Chase gave a dirty look to Julia, who reluctantly drew her taser and held out in an act of warning to the prisoner. 

“So sorry,” Julia whispered.

“‘t’s ah-kah,” Carmen whispered back.

Chase then drove in silence for a bit, humming La Marseillaise under his breath. As he did, Carmen looked for a way out of her predicament. Spotting the remote for the electronic handcuffs in Julia’s suit pocket, Carmen slowly leaned in towards the agent to try to get it. Seeing it in time, Julia grabbed the thief’s wandering fingers, stretched them out (hard enough for it to hurt in the moment, but no further than that), and shoved Carmen back upright. The red coat-wearer let out a soft growl into her gag while Julia flashed a tiny smile. 

“Yur ood,” the thief softly admitted.

Julia beamed at the mumbled compliment. “I know,” she jokingly bragged.

Carmen kept thinking about ways to escape. She had come up with a few ideas, but all of them risked harming Julia. As much as she wanted to rough Chase up, she couldn’t say the same thing about his partner, one of the only people in the world who truly understood her life’s goal: to steal with only good intentions in mind. As much as she hated to admit it, it looked like she’d have to find some way to escape from A.C.M.E. custody…

But suddenly, a miracle (of sorts) occurred: when Chase went to pop another mint into his mouth, he found the container to be empty. Grunting, he pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store, a mere mile away from the police.

“Sir, can’t you just wait until after Carmen has been handed over to the proper authorities to get more breath mints?” an incredulous Julia asked.

“And risk having a smelly breath while gifting La Femme Rouge over to ze Chief? No way!” he barked back, stepping out of the car. “I'll be just two minutes. Keep an eye on our little thief while I'm gone!”

Chase ran inside the store. As soon as he was gone, Julia took the gag out of Carmen's mouth. “I apologize about the gag, Miss Sandiego. It was Chase’s idea, not mine.”

“I know. How unfair it is, though, considering he’s the most deserving one in this car deserving of a gag.”

Julia giggled in agreement. “I just can’t believe that man stopped for breath mints in the middle of transporting a master thief. He’s practically addicted to those things.”

“You think I’m a ‘master’?” Carmen smirked. “Thanks for such a glowing compliment, Agent Argent.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, waiting for Chase’s return. Right before Julia was about to say something else to her prisoner when both ladies could hear the French agent shout from inside the store, “I DEMAND YOU LET ME IN FRONT OF ZE LINE! ZISS IS A MATTER OF POLICE URGENCY!”

Startled, Julia turned her body, causing the remote to fall out of her pocket. Seizing her moment, Carmen grabbed the remote and pressed the button, releasing her from the cuffs. Realizing what happened, Julia grabbed her taser, but Carmen grabbed her wrist and used her other hand to pry Julia’s fingers from the weapon, causing it to fall onto the ground. 

Realizing that she wouldn’t be winning this conflict, Julia tried exiting the car to contact Chase or any other A.C.M.E. agent, but it was too late; Carmen now had the taser. She grabbed the agent by her suit jacket and dragged her as far away from the car door as possible while pointing the taser at Julia’s spine. 

“Looks like the shoe is on the other foot now,” Carmen said with a warm smirk.

“N-now now, M-miss Sandieg-go,” a fearful Julia stammered out. “Let’s not do anything hasty.”

“Well, your partner thinks I am a ‘no-good creeminahl’. Maybe I should help to bolster his claims by giving you a nice little shock,” the thief half-joked.

“But I know your style: you never hurt the innocent; only the criminals.”

“100% right again, Agent Argent. But I would still not try to wrestle this taser out of my hands. After all, it might accidentally slip from my hands and nick you.”

Looking back towards the convenience store, both ladies could still hear Chase creating a ruckus inside. 

“How much longer do you think it’ll take for him to come back from his breath mint run?” Carmen asked. 

“I really shouldn’t be giving away such information-”

‘Remind me again: who has the taser here?”

Julia sighed. “Forty seconds until he realizes in his haste that he picked up fruit mints...which he hates, thirty seconds to find the peppermint-flavored mints he prefers, and two more minutes to shout his way back to the front of the line and come back here.”

“Excellent. I think that gives me enough time to make a little switch.”

“What type of ‘switch’?”

Not answering Julia’s question, Carmen gently grabbed the sleeve of the agent’s suit jacket and ran her fingers against it.

“Do you know my favorite thing about you, Julia, besides your brains? Even though I’m a whole five inches taller than you, your clothes should still be able to fit me just fine.”

oOo

Exactly three minutes and ten seconds later (just as Julia has predicted), Chase returned, three new containers of mints in hand. As he stepped back into the car, he briefly looked over his shoulder to make sure everything was as he had left it: both his pantsuit-wearing partner and the red coat and fedora-wearing thief bound and gagged next to her were both still sitting in the backseat. Satisfied, Chase started the car back up and sped off to the police station. As he drove, he noticed that Carmen was making far more noise into her gag than she had been before. 

“Save your voice, Carmen,” the French agent advised his prisoner. “I'm sure ze Chief will have a lot of questions for you to answer once she gets a hold of you.”

“I completely agree with you, Chase,” Julia said. “You need to stop, Carmen, before I whip out the taser again.”

Chase furrowed his brow as he cracked open one of the new containers. “Miss Argent, are you ok? You sound a bit different. And even more peculiar, you are AGREEING with me for once!”

“I’m perfectly fine, Agent Devineaux. I was just thinking: maybe you were right this whole time. Maybe Carmen Sandiego IS a no-good hoodlum that deserves to be brought to A.C.M.E. in cuffs.”

Over Carmen’s growls of anger, Chase smirked. “Miss Argent, I'm so happy you are starting to see things my way.”

Carmen could only roll her eyes at this point. 

oOo

Minutes later, the car pulled up to the police station. Julia was the first to step out of the car.

“I’ll alert the Chief of our arrival,” she told her partner, whose mind was on all of the praise that’d surely be coming his way in the near future. “Why don’t you take hold of the prisoner? That way, you can be the one to present her.”

“A fine idea, Miss Argent,” Chase said with a smile as he opened the car door. As he did, the Chief walked out of the police station with several other A.C.M.E. agents in tow. 

“Agent Devineaux,” she greeted him. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Chief, Agent Argent and I were called in on a robbery to ze Louvre-”

He looked around to find his partner, only for her to have seemingly vanished into thin air. 

“Huh, she just went out looking for you,” he mused. “Oh well. I'm sure she'll be back any second. Anyways, we responded to ze robbery call and you'll never guess who we captured while we were zere.”

Proudly, he pulled the thief out by her coat and presented her to his boss. The Chief’s look of interest quickly turned into a scowl. 

“Agent Devineaux,” she addressed him sharply, “is this some kind of joke?”

"What do you mean ‘joke’?" he asked. “It is she, ze one who we've been trying to capture for months: Carmen Sand-what ze?"

Upon actually looking at the person he had brought in, he realized that this wasn’t Carmen Sandiego; it was his partner, Julia, who was dressed in the thief’s signature red coat and fedora while also wearing the handcuffs and gag. 

“Zat's impossible! I tasered her, placed her in ze car, and I checked zat she was still zere after I stopped for zose mints-"

“Let me get this straight,” the Chief questioned him. “You were transporting our most wanted target, and you stopped for BREATH MINTS?!”

As Chase continued to sputter out an excuse and while the Chief mentally questioned her decision to hire him in the first place, both didn’t Julia blush through all of this, as well as the note that fell from the red coat’s pocket. 

oOo

From a nearby rooftop, Carmen (still wearing her Julia ‘cosplay’) watched the scene unfold with a smirk, gently tossing the Seated Scribe (stolen back during the switch) between her hands.

“I gotta say, Red,” Player complimented her, “you look pretty fly in a pantsuit.”

“It’s a pretty snug fit, though,” Carmen noted, tugging at the sleeves. “Why couldn’t Chase partner with a girl my height?”

“Well, all’s right with the world again: the Seated Scribe is back in your possession, and Chase is in ‘le doghouse’ with the Chief. But I do feel a little bad for Julia, having to do her dirty like that.”

“Both of us girls won,” the thief assured her. “She didn’t have to catch me and I got away. And I think the note I left with her will make her day a bit brighter.”

“What note?”

“I scribbled it a block before we got to the station. It reads, You can keep this jacket too. I hope we can do this again sometime...but maybe without Chase.”

“What a cute love letter,” Player teased.

Carmen scoffed. “It wasn’t a love letter…”

“Well, I think you should know that I ship you with Julia. ‘Jules-Thief’, I call the ship.”

“Send me the fanfiction I’m sure you have featuring us girls later. Anyways, you have the hotel room ready for me?”

“A five star suite, courtesy of V.I.L.E.’s funds, is waiting for you, Red. Sending the coordinates now.”

As Carmen shot her grappling hook out and swung away, she could hear the familiar cry of “LA FEMME ROUGE!” echo through the streets of Paris. 

#carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen x jules #julesthief #chase devineaux #juletheif #julia argent #acme

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.III

Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.

AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!

ch.II - ch.IV

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello? Monsieur Soos? Monsieur Stan told us to find you.” Mabel called out nicely on the stairs. Dipper watched as his sister optimistically roamed the stairs for the keeper of the key and grounds of the castle. There were so many times he wished he was more like her. Mabel was super strong and kind and just outright amazing; no matter what the world threw at her, she was happy and cheerful. Through losing their parents and then their Grandpa Shermie, through being lost in the woods and nearly eaten, through meeting a beast, Mabel was still joyful and out-going. Dipper wished he could be more like that, but sometimes it felt like a dark cloud forever hung over his head; he was the realistic twin, the Debby-downer of the two; someone had to be, and he never wanted it to be Mabel. “Maybe we misheard him.” Mabel pondered when no one was responding to her calls. “Did Monsieur Stan say Soos or Zeus?”

Dipper shrugged. “Or maybe we were sent on a wild goose chase.” “Eck! A goose?!” Mabel gasped with sparkling eyes. “Sup, dawgs!” A voice called from the top of the second flight of stairs. “I’m Soos! Sorry, just wanted to make sure your room was clean. So dusty… anyways, welcome!” Dipper and Mabel peered to where the voice was coming from and saw a hammer standing up on it’s handle. It was smiling with long buck teeth and kind eyes. Split from the handle, like big splinters, were the arms, but it had no legs. Mabel smiled while Dipper just stared. “Hi! I’m Mabel! So you’re Soos?” “Sure am!” The hammer gestured to follow him. “C’mon, dudes, I’ll show you to your room.” Mabel followed with Dipper right behind her. Past expensive, dusty objects and paintings, the hammer led them to another set of double-doors. The hammer pushed them open and the kids awed at the living quarters. Beautiful twin-sized bunk beds stood proudly with the finest silks and pillows stuffed with feathers. A giant window with a balcony displayed the calm fall rain and a huge chest filled with toys and a wardrobe occupied the room, but the space was so vast that it somehow felt empty. The walls were painted gold with knights and kings and glorious battles telling stories on the ceiling. Mabel squealed with delight and ran to the bottom bed and plopped down. “Wowie, zowie! Is this all ours?” “Sure is, dude.” Soos said. “The boss wanted you kids to be safe and comfortable.” “You mean that big scary beast downstairs?” Dipper asked. “That’s the one!” Dipper couldn’t keep his smile at bay any longer. “I have always wanted bunk beds.” “I think he’s nice.” Mabel said from the bottom bunk. “Oh, the dude’s a nice guy.” Soos insisted. “Once you get to know him. He saved me and Abuelita from the streets a long time ago, gave us jobs and a home.” A cart came in, carrying a beautiful china pot that smiled at the guests. “Welcome!” She said with an Asian accent. “My name is Candy. So good to have company with us. Dinner will be ready shortly. Oh, no! You two look cold. Grenda! Grenda, wake up!” She barked. The wardrobe burst open and the eyes on top of the piece of furniture popped open. “I’m up, I’m up! SWEET LORD! Finally, new muses! You two need some new clothes!” Grenda opened her drawers, but moths flew out and she closed up immediately. “Oops. That’s… that happens sometimes.” Grenda opened her drawers again and whistled. “Okay, ladies, let's get to work, up, up, up!” Sewing needles, measuring tape, and thread sprang up from a drawer and began to work, pulling rolls of cloth out from the other drawers and sewing around the twins as they stood still. Mabel giggled and lightly touched the needles in greeting, treating them like butterflies, while Dipper stood rigid and still, afraid of being hurt. “Aw, don’t be so tense, boy.” Grenda giggled. “You like blue?” Dipper took in a deep breath, trying to relax, and he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I like blue.” Soon the kids were changed into nicer clothes; not formal, but not made from itchy material and much more comfortable than their soak garments. Mabel twirled in her pink petticoat and jacket with golden buttons and she grinned at her brother, who wore a navy-blue jacket over an orange top. He kept his blue cap on proudly and he seemed comfortable. “Tuck your shirt in, scruffy.” The mirror on the wall spoke, spooking the kids. “Be nice, Pacifica.” Candy warned. Dipper had a million questions. He looked at Soos the hammer, Candy the teapot, Pacifica the mirror, and Grenda the wardrobe, and said quietly, “This is impossible. Objects can’t talk or move on their own.” Grenda shrugged, her golden arms free from being folded on top of a drawer. “Well, here we are.” “Abuelita used to say the world’s more full of magic than we know, dudes.” Soos said. “You’re magic?!” Mabel gasped happily, squishing her cheeks with her hands as her eyes shined like stars. “Duh,” Pacifica said as a reflection of her human form shined on the mirror, a pretty girl with long blonde hair. “This castle’s full of weird secrets and magic and mystery and whatever.” “We LOVE mystery, don’t we, Dipper?” Mabel asked, gripping his hand. “This guy is really good at solving them! He figured out who was stealing Manly Dan’s jerky.” “Everyone wanted to blame it on the kids, but no one with a shoe size of five could have made such a deep footprint in the mud unless they were heavier than an adolescent.” Dipper explained and shrugged with a sheepish smile. “And Mabel’s really smart, too. She discovered who was eating all our garbage and leaving smelly trails.” “All signs pointed to the goat.” Mabel said, puffing her chest out proudly. “Then you’ll fit right in, dudes!” Soos exclaimed excitedly. A harsh cough came from the door and an axe hopped in, with a beautiful girl carved into the handle. She dipped the heavy head of the axe and said, “Dinner’s ready.” The kids thanked the axe, at this point used to inanimate objects suddenly being animate, and left for the dining hall. Wendy gave Soos, Candy, Grenda, and Pacifica death glares and followed them out. Pacifica scoffed and her reflection faded away. Soos felt his face turn warm as he hopped on the cart and caught a ride with Candy; Grenda fell back asleep. Mabel and Dipper followed the axe into the dining hall and admired the scene before them. A huge table that could fit thirty stood polish with mahogany, filled with bread water, the best china and dishes the kids had ever dreamed of, and silverware made out of real silver. The axe hopped in front of them and said, “Alright, guys, my name’s Wendy. Basically I’m in charge when the boss isn’t here, and since he’s not here, I’m in charge right now. Follow me?” The kids nodded; Dipper really didn’t want to argue with an axe, in case if turned into an axe-murderer. They sat next to each other at the right hand of the head of the table, where the host would normally sit. Mabel laid her napkin on her lap and Dipper waited for something to happen. Just as Mabel opened her mouth to talk to Wendy, the axe hopped away and Candy the teapot hopped at the center of the table, a surprise spotlight on her. “Lady and gentleman! It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you here tonight! Now, we invite you to relax and get comfortable, as the dining room proudly presents: your dinner.” And magical dishes and trays filled with food hopped out from the kitchen and onto the table. Mabel leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin resting on her knuckles, while Dipper smiled unsure of what to make of this, but enjoying it nonetheless. “Be our guest…” ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan paced on all fours back and forth, his mind racing. He occasionally spoke, trying to think better by thinking out loud, but there was just so much to tackle at once. Stan stood on his back legs and his eyes rested on the journal. Decorated with a golden six-fingered hand, the journal was safe inside a glass case, never allowed to be touched. Still, it was so tempting, but too risky. That book was fragile and Stan was dangerous. The beast growled in his throat and resumed his pacing. What was he thinking, letting those kids stay here, allowing Soos to open the door, even meeting the kids. He should have stayed hidden and let them leave. But he couldn’t just let those kids go out into the woods and die; not even a monster like himself would do that. But Stan needed confirmation that he had made the right choice. Once again his gaze fell on the journal. He ceased his pacing again and stared at the journal. He sighed through his nose and approached it. He slowly, carefully, sat on the floor before the small table that occupied the book, staring at it, lost in thoughts and memories. A few minutes later, Stan found his claw on the glass cover, yearning to touch the journal, but he dared not to. Not yet. Not right now. It was too risky. A page fell out a few days ago. But then his cruel mind made him remember his brother’s pleading words. Stanley, I’m fine. You know I’m still here, right? I’m not just some book you can place on a shelf and walk away. Stanley, I can’t breathe in here. It’s maddening. I am not afraid of you. Stan tenderly lifted the glass case from over the journal and placed it on the ground. His gentle paws, the beast picked up the book and opened it. He smiled tiredly at a blank page. “Hey, Sixer.” Hello, Stanley. A knock came at the door, the one at the entrance of the West Wing; Stan’s advanced hearing could pick it up. He quickly shut the journal, put it on the table, and protected it with the glass cover. “What?” He called when he went to the door, but he didn’t open it. “Hi, Monsieur Stan!” A girl’s voice called. What did she say her name was? Maple? “Are you gonna come down to dinner? Madame Wendy said you didn’t want to. Are you okay? Does your tummy hurt?” Stan raised an eyebrow at the door. “Mabel, leave him alone.” The boy said. “He’ll come when he wants to.” “But Dipper, he should eat.” Stan had thought of hunting for a deer after the little pains in his side went to bed so he wouldn’t scare them or bother them when they were trying to recover and eat. He was surprised and apprehensive when they seemed to not only expect but desire his attendance. “You want to eat dinner with freak-show over here?” He asked suspiciously, not believing it. “Sure! Why not?” The girl called. Her name was Mabel, Stan recalled. “I don’t think you want that.” He warned. “What?! I totally want that! It’ll be fun, now come on! There’s delicious gray stuff!” She added, hoping it would tempt her host to join them for dinner. Stan snorted. He opened the door and looked down at the tiny humans. One could stand on the other’s shoulders and they wouldn’t reach his height. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” “Yay!” Mabel punched the air and laughed at Dipper’s face. “Hah! I win, sucka!” Dipper punched her shoulder and they started back to the dining hall. Stan followed them, giving them plenty of space. When they sat to eat, Mabel and Dipper chatted among themselves about how they loved the musical performance the servants had given. Mabel was careful to thank every single object individually, while Dipper settled for thanking them as a combined team. Stan smiled teasingly at the foolish kids, gushing over a stupid show. “Monsieur Stan, are you sure you’re not sick?” Mabel asked gently over her goblet of water. Stan gave her a skeptical look, expecting a jab at his monstrous appearance. “I’m fine, kid.” He growled. Mabel blinked, unsure as to why he was so stoic and strict. “Really? You’re not eating. Do you not like it?” Dipper also noticed it, privately predicting that the beast would tear into his meal, but he had not even touched his meat or picked up his drink. “Had a big lunch pretty late in the day.” Stan said, waving the question away. “Now quit pestering me about it!” “Oh. Okay. By the way, you never answered my questions.” “Huh?” “What’s your favorite color? Do you have a sweet tooth? Do you like sweet or sour things? Do you have a favorite song?” Mabel asked all in one breath, so quickly that it took the host a minute to gather his answers. “Oh. Um… red, yes, sweet, and no.” Mabel grinned, excited to elaborate on Stan’s answers, and she and Stan gradually had a conversation. It was an odd conversation, with Mabel doing most of the talking and the two knowing so little about the other and having next to nothing in common that it might have been tricky to talk pleasantly, but soon Stan found himself flapping up water with his scratchy tongue as he listened to the girl’s twenty-first story. Mabel smiled and covered her mouth with her hand at the sight, finding it endearing. Dipper would occasionally inject and join in, but mostly he observed. Stan hadn’t realized how quiet the castle had become until it was filled with noise. A grandfather clock out in the hall screamed, “NINE O’CLOCK!”, making Dipper jump and splash water on his face, and Mabel laughed at the little scare. “Right, time for bed, gremlins.” Stan said and pointed to the door. “You’ve got your work cut out for you in the morning. No more softening you up. I want you wide-eyed and bushy-tailed by sunrise.” “But, we don’t have tails.” Dipper sneered with a smile. “Not my problem, runt, now go before you get nightmares from looking at this face for too long.” Mabel didn’t like that last comment, but she decided to let it pass. “G’night, Monsieur Stan!” She said cheerfully and waved to him as she walked out of the dining hall with Dipper right beside her. When the door was closed behind them, Stan sighed with relief; he was starving. Acting on instinct alone, he tore into his food like an animal and spewed it all over his face and clothes. He later huffed in shame and humiliation, and with as much pride as he could muster, he left the table and ventured to bed. Meanwhile, Mabel slipped on her white nightgown and climbed up to the top bunk bed; Dipper had a habit of falling out of bed already, he didn’t need to be six feet up. She snuggled under the cozy covers and was pleasantly surprised to find warm pans between the blankets. “I like it here.” Mabel said sleepily, rubbing an eye. “It’s like we’re in a story of our own.” Dipper smiled up at the bottom of Mabel’s bed, his head resting on his folded arms. “Yeah… I guess so.” There was a long pause. Despite Mabel’s optimism and cheerful attitude, now that there was nothing to distract her, a sudden worry made a knot in her stomach. “Dipper? Do you really think Fiddleford is okay?” Dipper took too long to answer for her sister's comfort, but when he spoke she felt much better. “He’s fought in two wars, survived crazy invention-attacks, and raised you. He can handle anything.” Mabel giggled at the jab he made at her and said, “More like he survived raising you, Dumb-Dumb.” Dipper chuckled, “Goodnight, Stupid.” “G’night, Stupid.” Dipper blew out the candle, but it would be a long time before Mabel finally closed her eyes and fell asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~ The rain had finally stopped, but the cold was even worse now. Even so, it could not he felt inside Gleeful’s Glee-Filled Tavern, where hard-working men and women were relaxing in the comfort of fires and warm beer. Gideon had just finished a musical number that left the policemen crying with happiness and the other girls cheering. His mother shakingly filled drinks and his father collected some money for the performance by the piano. Gideon sat on the instrument to be eye-level with Ghost Eyes. He sighed tiredly. “I don’t understand it, my hench-angel. Why won’t Mabel admit that she loves me?” “Maybe because she doesn’t?” Ghost Eyes suggested into his beer. “I bet it’s cuz she keeps herself so busy.” Gideon speculated. “Think about it, with only old Man McGucket taking care of things she and Dipper have to… wait. What if she’s afraid to love me?” The white-haired boy gasped. “Wait, what?” “It all makes sense now!” Gideon proclaimed. “She’s lost almost all of her family! For someone so young, she’s lost so much! What if she’s afraid to only gain something to lose?! What if she’s afraid one day I’ll be gone, too?!” Gideon stood up proudly on the piano, with his fists on his hips. “Well, I swear by all this is holy and unholy that that will never happen! I will always be there for her, no matter what!” “YEAH!” Ghost Eyes cheered and had the boy sit on his muscular shoulder. “We love you, Lil’ Gideon!” Durland yelled. “Sing more of those funny songs!” “You got it! Ahem, ahem… nooooo oooooone…” The doors burst open, letting in some cold air, as Old Man McGucket came running in. the townsfolk gasped at him. He was dirty and his hair was frazzled and his glasses were cracked, but worst of all his arm was bruised and cradled by his chest protectively, as if it was broken. This man had obviously been through something horrible, his eyes wide and his jaw tight. “HELP!” He cried out. “HELP ME, PLEASE!” “McGucket, what happened?” Blubs asked. “It’s the children!” Old Man McGucket yelled and scrambled around the tavern, informing all of the tragedy. “We were attacked by wolves out in the woods n’ separated! They’re out there somewhere, lost n’ cold n’ possibly hurt! Please! We have t’find ‘em!” The townsfolk muttered among themselves. It was dangerous in those woods, filled with wolves and horrible animals. They were unsure if the children were alive. What was the point of risking their lives for dead bodies, especially the dead bodies of the troublesome Pines twins. “Aren’t these the same kids that built that wretched sound box?” Old Man McGucket paled a shade. “Y-Yes, b-b-but they were only tryin’...” “And are always reading? What’s that boy doing, teaching a girl to read? It’s unnatural.” “It’s beautiful!” Old Man McGucket snapped. “Dipper’s only tryin’ t’help his sister…” “I thought his name was Mason…” “It’s Dipper!” Old Man McGucket’s energy was failing him as he appeared alone in the world. “I… I know they seem different, but… but, please. They’re still only children. My children. Will no one help me find ‘em?” Gideon leaned towards Ghost Eyes’ ear and whispered excitedly, “This is perfect! Mabel needs my help; she’ll see how I’m willing to do anything for her and she’ll finally realize she loves me!” Gideon stood on Ghost Eyes’ shoulder and declared, “I’ll help!” Old Man McGucket turned and stared at the boy. “Ya will?” “Sure I will!” Gideon said and hopped off to walk on a long table. “Folks, I know we’ve had our fair share of whoopsie-daisies in the past, but Mabel and Dipper are still part of our fair town. They need our help, so I say no one should rest until they’re safe at home!” “YEAH!” Manly Dan yelled and punched a whole in the stone wall. “Let’s find the Pines!” Blubs said and the whole town cheered for Lil’ Gideon. Old Man McGucket approached the boy shakingly and smiled. “Th-Thanks ya so much. Ya’ve always been a… a loyal friend t’em.” “Don’t thank me yet.” Gideon said with a smile. “Let’s just get my queen and future brother-in-law back.” And he went off to gather the volunteers. Fiddleford watched the boy leave and he winced. “Aw, banjo polish.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: I know it seems like I’m a hater of BatB songs since only one is in here, two songs are not from BatB at all, and I teased two BatB songs in this chapter but never delivered, but I promise that more are on the way (or at least obscure gestures to the songs since this isn’t a musical).

I will share that I ALMOST opened the entire story with a Hercules-like intro, with Dipper and Mabel destroying the town with an invention and being rejected by the village, making the scene of Fiddleford trying to convince people to help look for them more compelling, but I backed away since I couldn’t think of a good destructive invention that could be built by two twelve-year-olds in the early 1800s. I’d love to hear some of your ideas, guys!

Pacifica is kinda a reference to the Magic Mirror from Snow White, and while Lazy Susan would’ve made a great Mrs. Potts, I decided to make Candy head of the kitchen and the tea pot and have Lazy Susan be a friend of Fiddleford and Shermie’s and give hand in raising Dipper and Mabel sometimes, one of the few people in town that actually liked them. I will warn you that this story does not focus much on the side characters, rather the development of the main characters.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

#GF #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #batb au #fanfiction #beauty within the fallen

[bee-kathony]

FOUR YEARS - YEAR TWO - “November 2nd, 2015″

The First Year | January 5th, 2015 | February 9th, 2015 | March 24th, 2015 | April 17th, 2015 | May 7th, 2015 | June 16th, 2015 | June 21st, 2015 | August 18th, 2015 | August 26th, 2015 |  September 8th, 2015 | October 12th, 2015

November 2nd, 2015

“Jamie, I’m pregnant!”

After I spoke those words aloud, it hit me — the truth of it all. I was pregnant. I am pregnant. Jamie and I would finally have a child that was made containing equal parts of our DNA. Red hair with blue eyes, or maybe dull brown with amber eyes like mine. A mix of both our genes into one small perfect creation.

I still had a few hours left at work and after Jamie asked me how I had found out, he told me he would come to the hospital.

An hour went by and I checked my phone, but was disappointed when no messages popped up.

“Jamie…” I muttered under my breath and focused my attention back on the charts in my hands.

Another thirty minutes passed and finally my red headed scot marched through the doors of the hospital carrying a bouquet of flowers. He had the biggest grin on his face and when he reached me at my station, he wrapped his arms around me and spun me around.

A few claps and whistles sounded around us and my cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as Jamie kissed me deeply in front of my colleagues and patients.

“Our wee bairn,” Jamie kissed me and simply held me to his body, the flowers still in his hand.

“Yes, Jamie,” I sniffled, now feeling the tears on my face. “Our child.”

“I brought ye these,” Jamie released me and offered my a lovely bouquet of red roses. “I had to go to a few shops to get the perfect ones so it took me a wee longer to get here.”

Leaning my head down, I sniffed the flowers, breathing in the wild scent of the earth. “They’re lovely, but you didn’t have to get me any flowers.” I smiled and pressed my lips against his.

“Aye,” his eyebrows rose. “To mark this day, Sassenach. The day we found out that we created life!” He slid his hand over my belly and I wanted to weep at the happiness in his eyes. My God… I loved this man.

Joe walked by and threw his arms around the both of us, “I love you guys, so happy for you!”

“Thank ye, Joe.” Jamie squeezed his shoulder, “I’m thankful that ye made Claire do an ultrasound… even if I woulda loved to be there for it,” he squinted his eyes at him.

Joe raised his hands in defense, “Hey, don’t look at me big fella. I asked Lady J, but she wanted to give you only good news.”

I chucked Joe a ‘back off’ look and he congratulated us again and left to make his rounds.

Jamie took my hand in his, now a solemn expression on his face. “Sassenach, if ye hadna been pregnant, I would still want to be there for ye.”

Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, I set the flowers on the desk nearby and wrapped my hands around his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you to come sooner, I wasn’t expecting to of course.” I ran my fingers through the curls at the back of his neck, “You’ll be at all the appointments from here on out.”

His lips curved up on one side, “Aye. I’ll be there for ye and the bairn. I want to be there for everythin’, mo ghraidh. I dinna want to miss a second of our wee bairn’s life!” He planted a kiss on my lips and then looked down at my belly between us, “If only I worked here at the hospital, then I could keep an eye on ye and the bairn.”

“We’ll be fine, Jamie. I’m sure I can manage to grow a human inside of me,” I laughed and leaned my forehead against his chest. “Did you ever think we would get pregnant, Jamie?”

He was silent for a moment and I knew what he was thinking; about the ten percent chance that I would ever be able to conceive… about all the pain my body had been through and still had to come.

“I hoped, Sassenach. And I prayed everyday that we would have our own child and now God has given us this child.” He held me tight and I felt the urgency in his grip, to hold me and to protect me from everything he could not control.

“He has, Jamie,” I looked up at him and kissed him again.

“I should let ye get back to work,” he pushed the curls back from my face. “I’ll go home and cook us a celebratory meal, how does that sound?”

“Delicious,” I grinned and licked my lips. Thankfully, Jamie was the better cook in our marriage. Where I could whip up some eggs with mild success, Jamie excelled in the kitchen. I blamed my lack of cooking skills on my parents and their love for dining out and I knew that with Jamie being raised at Lallybroch he had been taught the art of cooking by his mother and sister.

“I’ll see ye two,” he gave my belly a gentle pat, “at home then.”

“See you at home, daddy.”

“Daddy?” His eyebrows rose, “That kind of talk will get ye nowhere but the bedroom, ye ken.”

“Oh don’t be like that!” I laughed and pushed him away, reaching for the flowers. “Can you take these home and put them in water?”

“Aye, I’ll do just that Mam,” he attempted a wink and then left, flowers in hand and a slight skip in his step.

++++++

It had been 22 days since Jamie and I found out about our growing baby and exactly one day — yesterday — that we found out that there was a child that we could adopt.

A two year old boy who had lost both of his parents in a plane crash. Just like me.

He was French and his name was Fergus which made Jamie laugh at the Scottish-ness of it.

“How does a wee lad in France get a name like Fergus?” Jamie looked over the adoption papers once again, his left hand still firmly holding the picture they had sent.

A few weeks ago, we had been informed that there was a possibility that they had found a child that would be a good match with us. I had completely forgotten about it since finding out about the pregnancy and hadn’t thought anything of it until the agency called and said they would send over the information as soon as possible.

“It’s rather fitting though, don’t you think?” I smiled and reached for the picture of the little boy. He had brown curls on top of his head and a sweet smile. It was probably ridiculous to be thinking about adopting now that we were pregnant. Taking on one baby was plenty, but to bring in a two year old to the mix — insane.

“Aye, it’s a braw name for the lad. We willna have to be changing it,” Jamie smirked and then looked at me. I saw the worry etched on his face, but also the joy.

“Should we do this, Jamie? We were both on board with adopting a child when we thought we would never get pregnant, but it all just feel like a lot.” I laid the picture down on the table and scooted over towards Jamie on the couch.

“It may be foolish of us to think we can handle it all, Sassenach.” He kissed the top of my head, bringing both his arms around me. “But ye ken we would be sayin’ yes right away had ye not gotten wi’ child.”

“I know,” I sighed and leaned against his chest. “I feel that we should, Jamie. When I saw his face I-“

“Aye,” Jamie looked down at me and I saw the tears in his eyes, “I felt it too, mo cridhe. Like he was already ours.” He slid his hand over my small belly, “Like this bairn is ours.”

“Fergus Fraser,” I tested the name out on my lips and felt giddy at the sound. “He’ll already be a big brother then.”

“He’ll be a fine brother, Sassenach. And weel… hopefully since he’s only a wee lad of two, he willna have that nasally French accent.”

“Jamie!” I hit him on the back of the head, “Be nice.” Laughing, Jamie rolled his eyes and rubbed at his head.

“Ye ken it to be true, Claire! He’ll have a mix I suppose. Wi’ a Scottish father and an English lassie for a Mam,” Jamie cupped my chin in his hand and brought my lips to his.

“And besides, Jenny and Ian ken a thing or two about bairns. I’m sure they’ll be a great resource when the lad comes home,” Jamie gave my hip a gentle pat. Annie barked at the both of us, more of a yelp than a bark, but then climbed up and settled on my lap.

“We’ve had Annie for nearly a year,” I smiled and pet her soft fur. “And Adso of course. I know they’re not nearly as complicated as raising a child, but pets can often be training wheels, do you think?”

“Aye, they can.” Jamie scratched Annie behind the ear, making her roll over onto her back, she was a glutton for belly rubs.

“So I’ll call the agency and tell them that it’s a yes… that we want to bring Fergus home,” I felt tears spring up in my eyes.

“He’ll be here before ye know it, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed my lips. “And then we’ll have a new wee one come summer.”

“Oh God,” I groaned, leaning my head back on Jamie’s arm. “I’ll be heavily pregnant in the hottest months of the year.”

Jamie laughed, “Tis Scotland, love. Ye ken it never truly gets too hot.”

“Still,” I rolled my eyes. “I would prefer to not be sweaty and feel like an elephant.”

“Ye’ll be a beautiful elephant though,” Jamie grinned and I pinched the skin on the back of his neck.

“Don’t you start with that,” I pressed my lips firmly together to keep from laughing.

“Start wi’ what, mo ghraidh…” he looked at me innocently. “Ye willna be small, ye’ll be hu—“

I clapped my hand over his mouth, “I don’t think you want to finish that sentence Mr. Fraser.”

His eyebrows rose and then he licked my palm, making me pull it back in disgust. “Eck! Jamie, what the hell!”

“Oh, so ye dinna mind my tongue between yer wee legs, but ye think it’s gross on yer hand?” He chuckled, a deep sound vibrating in his chest and then he pulled me onto his lap, making Annie bark and jump off to find a more stable resting spot.

“What about if my tongue is here?” His hands pulled my legs around his waist and I sat facing him. Pulling the hair off my neck, Jamie leaned down and pressed his tongue flat against my skin, swiping up from the base.

I shivered, arching my body against him and a soft moan left my lips.

“Ye like it, don’t ye, Sassenach?” His tongue swiped along my jaw and then my lips before flicking against the tip of my nose.

“Jamie Fraser…” I sighed and opened my eyes, hooking my arms around his neck and grinding my hips on his crotch. “That kind of tongue play will only lead towards you on your stomach and your head between my thighs.” I didn’t usually talk like this, but there was something about suggesting this and watching his eyes burn with the promise to fulfill it that made me keep going.

His hands slid down my back, cupping my arse and I rolled my hips against him, my belly pressing against him.

“I mean to make ye fall apart, mo nighean donn…” Jamie smiled softly and kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue. “To spread yer thighs and touch ye,” his hand slid between my legs over my tights and I nearly convulsed.

“To have ye beggin’ me for more as I take ye, because yer mine.” He kissed my lips, my jaw, my neck. “And this wee bairn is mine,” he nuzzled his head into my shoulder and moved his hand slowly in between our bodies and I moaned when his hand slipped in the front of my leggings.

“Jamie, Jesus H. Christ,” I muttered and bit down gently on his shoulder as he moved his middle finger against my slit.

“Dinna be quiet, my love.” He hissed and slowly inserted his finger inside of me. He felt so close, and I wanted to surround him with my body, to possess him and never let him go. Knowing that our love was growing inside of me made my head swim and my heart pound. I held on to his body as he continued to make me fall apart with the touch of his hand.

++++++

Hours later after a dinner of Chinese take-in and too many egg rolls, I laid in bed with Jamie’s arm around my stomach. Ever since he found out that we were pregnant, he had gotten into the habit of falling asleep with his hand over my belly; he was always protecting us.

I’d dozed off, but found I was restless; my limbs twitching and eyes scanning the dark room around me. To ease myself, I ran my fingers lightly over the back of Jamie’s arm, watching the hairs rise on his skin. He moved a bit, but didn’t wake — he only held me tighter, reaching out and pulling me to him in his sleep.

“Jamie,” I said as softly as I could, my fingers lightly touching his cheek. His eyelids fluttered but I knew by his breathing he was still asleep.

Turning on my side, I nuzzled against him, tucking my head into his chest. So many times his body had shielded me from harm, whether physical, mental or emotional. My rock and my protector.

“I love you,” I whispered, my lips pressing softly to his chest.

A moment later, when I felt sleep just on the horizon I heard him whisper against my hair, “Tha gaol agam ort, mo ghràidh.”

#four years #year two #mclairefras #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #november 2 2015 #jamie x claire #one more chapter for the second year

[beauty-proof]

Joey's

Takes place before Bare Skin.

She left the stale coolness of the bowling alley for the warm dampness of the spring evening.  The scent of the year’s first blooms hung heavy in the air as she started her trekk to the bus stop, her shoulders hunched.  The light wind whispered past her. And then it did so again.

And then it sighed.

She whipped around to see a brightly suited figure standing at the edge of the alley across the street.  It was him; for real this time. She’d mistaken others for him several times in the year since they’d last met, only to be disappointed when they turned around and weren't a grown man in clown makeup.

"About time you heard me," he said as she slipped into the alley and crossed her arms before squaring up to face him.

"Sorry.  Do I know you?"

The Joker chuckled, "Come on.  Don't be mad, doll. I've had to lay low for awhile, especially since my last run-in with Gotham's finest flying rodent -"

"It's been a whole year!" she protested.

Why was he arguing with this little brat?  "I was flung in the air -"  

"- and then Batman stopped the runaway bus using an empty tram car."  She rolled her eyes, "Don't worry, I heard it all. Girls at school were losing their panties over it.”

He'd had his finger raised and mouth open, ready to remind her not to ever dare interrupt him while he was speaking.  His mouth snapped shut in puzzlement.

"Teenage girls like the Batman?" he found himself asking aloud.  Images of the Bat on the cover of Teen Beat entered his mind, and he almost laughed.  Almost.

She shrugged, getting an inkling that this new information was grinding his gears. "Sure, I mean lots of girls think he's great.  A bad boy type, ya know?"

An odd heat crept up the back of his neck at her words, although he was loathe to acknowledge it.  "What do you think?" he asked.

She shrugged again.  "I think...he has a real strong jaw.  Hard to tell what he looks like. That's the whole point of a disguise right?"  The girl lifted her eyes from the ground to look at him pointedly.

Unsure of what to say to that statement, he reached out and patted her on the back.  "How about some pizza? My guy Joey's got a place around the corner."

She smiled shyly and nodded.  So easy to please.

They left the alley and began the short walk toward the pizzeria.

"By the way, are you alright?  Sounds like you got flung pretty far."

The Joker just sniffed in response, ignoring her question and trying not to think about his very-probably-broken toe.

Joey's was empty save for the two employees behind the counter, neither of which seemed alarmed or surprised by the appearance of one of the city's most wanted men.  While the Joker looked at the slices on display, she leaned idly against the counter.

"I wouldn't lean against that," he advised, still inspecting the pizzas.

She pulled back and looked down to find an oily stain on her light blue dress.  Right across her left boob. Panicked over not letting the stain set in, she grabbed some napkins and tried in vain to scrub away the grime.  She glanced up to see Joker glance over at her. Turning crimson, she spun around so her back was to him as she continued to scrub. The Joker chuckled and shook his head as the young waitress came to the counter.

"Sorry for the wait.  What can I get ya?"

"Just two slices," he said and slapped his palm on the counter as a way of finality.

She spun around, "Oh, I want a Coke, too!"

The Joker's eyebrows raised and he licked his lips and she knew she was in trouble. "Is that how we ask?"  

"S-sorry Mr. J."

He could have pushed her buttons further and play the "can you or may you" game, but he decided against it.  They seated themselves at one of the rickety booths, the furthest from the serving counter and sat in silence for a moment.  He could tell she was practically bursting with questions, and watching her struggle with which to ask first was quite entertaining.

"Are you gonna let me come with you?"  Of course she chose that to ask.

He dodged her question.  "I'm sure there's things you wouldn't wanna miss out on, right?"

The slices arrived then and she blew on hers while she thought for a moment.  "Well…I guess prom might be fun. I hope." Her eyes lit up then and she sat up, looking as if she'd just had the best idea ever.

"Mr. J, you should come with me to prom.  Make a real splash!"

He laughed out loud and her face fell.  She'd known it was a dumb idea, but a girl could dream, right?

"Sweetie," he reasoned with her, "I'm a wanted criminal.  I can't go to prom with you." The idea made him feel slightly sick, to be honest.  All those greasy teens rubbing against one another, falling over from spiked punch. No.

She huffed, conceding and picking at the cheese on her paper plate.  "Fine. I'll probably just get stuck going with Darren."

The Joker ripped half of his pizza crust off like a wild dog.  "Who's Darren?"

He barked like one too, she thought.

The Joker, of course, knew perfectly well who Darren was, because he'd had his men find out everything about the boy the first time the teen had walked her home from school.  

Unsure of what to make of the Joker's reaction, she answered carefully, "He's just a friend."

"A…boy friend?" He raised one eyebrow at her.

"Eck, no!" She shook her head. "I'm just not into him like that."

The Joker placed his arms on the table, folded, and leaned forward a bit, his voice unusually quiet.  "But he likes you?"

She didn't answer, not wanting to lie.

"Looks at you just a second too long?" he continued, and started looking her up and down as a hungry dog would a steak. "Like this?"

Her collarbone felt hot.  Her neck and ears felt hot.  She felt faint and it was everything she could do to not cover her face in her hands in order to escape the situation.

He chuckled again and leaned back, checking his watch.  "It's late. Let's get you home before your mom starts asking questions."

"She's not my mom," she corrected as she scrambled out of the booth, eager for a change of topic.

"Fine, let's get you home before Francine starts asking questions.”  He rolled his eyes, thinking of the easiest way to...monitor prom night.

Perhaps a visit to Darren might be in order.

#arthur fleck #joker #joker 2019 #fanfic #mine #joey's #bare skin

[welcometoyournewhell]

His Laughter

A/N: A fic I woke up inspired to wright at three in the morning, also inspired by an rp with @kwaiipootato

____

Shoto Midoriya jumped slightly as a ticklish sensation ran up his spine. He closed his eyes with slight annoyance as he tried to finish cooking dinner. “Honey, stop it.”

Like most children would, both the Midroiya home’s fur babies had learned from one parent (aka Izuku) that.... when they want something to sniff and prod certain areas to make the other parent (aka Shoto) a giggling mess.

This often lead to the dropping of food to being let into the backyard. He giggled once more, getting close to leaning into the hot surface before him.

"Girls, knock it.... Izuku?” The still shorter male looked up with a tired smile. “I.... I didn’t even here the door open, or the dogs bark.” There was a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

The other hummed a bit before tweaking at his love’s waist. “Don’t worry about it, you were probably focused on your work.”

It wasn’t uncommon for the dou haired male to get sucked into what he was doing, so much that the dogs often did need to use their new learned tactic to get outside and use the bathroom. 

“My apologies,” he says softly as he turns back to his work, pushing the tickling hands away. All Might Jr. frowned a bit before a smirk appeared once more on his face. 

“Are you.... wearing the apron my mom got us as a joke?” It was small, pink, and oval shaped. It didn’t protect much, and the surnamed Todoroki was wearing a white sweater under it. 

“Oh, yeah. I saw it pointless to keep unless we actually use it.” Ah yes, his serious husband. “It looks good on you. Your skin tone, eyes, and hair compliment it nicely.” Deku himself clashed with it due to the green and his outfits. “Oh.... um, thank you. I guess I never noticed.” 

The newer Midoriya was stirring something within a pot as fingers found his tummy, digging into it slightly. “I-Izuku, not when I’m by the stove!” He had developed a slight fear of heat from childhood memory, not that it ever stopped him in battle or his daily life from doing things.

It wasn’t all heat, just.... being tickled this close to boiling water and fire? It wasn’t the safest things ever. 

The other sighed before walking over to the bar stool (that was an “eye sore” according to Shoto). Their home was as close to traditional as the Todoroki home as they could afford. However, Izuku asked for some modernized things, such as a counter top and stools and a few other things. “So, how was your day?” He could smell dumplings cooking, along with various other things. 

“Um.... rather uneventful. I cleaned, got a new route to patrol from the old man, helped mother with her room, and started cooking.” Oh? “Where are you supposed to patrol now?” Normally he’d doo a few blocks around his father’s agency. Deku was still so proud of his husband for signing under his father. 

It wasn’t for the paycheck, it was due to how Todoroki thought. He wanted to study under the second greatest hero, now the first. That and his father had simmered down some after his injuries.

The only thing he would throw “tantrums” about now was Todoroki’s life choices: Marrying All Might’s “love child”, taking on the Midroiya name, moving out to a new home with his husband, and moving his mother in from the hospital. 

“They were rare flares though and he still allowed his son to work under him. It wasn’t his dream for Shoto, but he realized it was as close as he would get to it. So how was work?” The shorter shrugged. “I only really patrolled today. There was a robbery but I didn’t really have to use One for All to take care of it.”

He jumped when he saw the other looking directly at him. There eyes met and Deku could sense concern. “I’m fine though! Don’t worry about it,” he laughed awkwardly. 

His husband nodded before making up a plate to take up to his mother. She’d come down from time to time, but she was still adjusting to living with her son. As he finished one plate, he went to start another. He was stopped by a scarred hand before it moved to turn the flames off. “Hey, I was hoping we could relax before dinner?”

To this the “former” Todoroki frowned. “Are you not hungry? It’ll be cold by the time we eat.” He worked hard on this damn it! Why let a meal go to waste (as it never tastes the same reheated), and consume half of what it could have been? Izuku smiled softly. “No it won’t.” He covered the pots and pans to keep their heat in before kissing his husband’s cheek. “I can run that up to your mother if you’d like.” 

Ignoring his soft blush, Shoto shook his head. “I’ve got it, but you never answered me if you were hungry or not.” A stomach growl from Deku answered his question. “I just want to unwind first,” the green bean giggled. “If you say so.” He picked up the dish and some utensils before heading up stairs. As he did, Midoriya let the dogs out back. 

‘He’s so odd sometimes,’ the taller thought as he made his way back down stairs. ‘But.... I can never bring myself to disagree with that face.’ He sighed softly as he put the apron back on the hook. It was then he realized what the other meant. Todoroki leaned forward giggling as Midoriya pulled him close, tickling his tummy. “I-Izuku,” he gasped. 

“Who is Izuku? I am... um.... Not Deku, an evil villain who needs some information from you Shoto.” Oh not this again. “Izuku, y-yhahaou knhahaow I'm bahahad at thehehse games!” He wasn’t good at playing “helpless” or anything like that and his instincts tried to kick in when the interrogation started. 

But nevertheless, Midoriya seemed to love these games. Maybe it was just earning cute giggles from Shoto that made him happy? Whatever it was, the other appreciated it to an extent. He’d been feeling so touch starved lately and.... it helped a lot to just feel the closeness and fingers moving around him. 

“Aw come on Shoto, your good at this. Besides, your laugh is so cute!” That was something he’d been hearing since U.A. A small yelp escaped the dou haired man’s mouth as he was lifted like a bride and walked to the living area. The couch was soft under his back as he was pinned down. Giggles of anticipation were already leaving his mouth as a soft pink blush took over once more. 

Midoriya had to look away and let his own giggles out before getting back into character. “So, Shoto Midoriya.” Wow, did he sound dorky. “I heard you know the secret to One for All. Being married to Deku, we assume he’s told you a lot.” Okay, this was a new role play, something the taller was also not so good at. 

“You sound so dumb,” he snorted before earning a scoff and some tickles to his sides. “You know, I’m trying here,” Deku laughed as he really drew attention to just before the ribs. His husband cracked a bit as he arms moved into kind of shield himself and his head pushed into the throw pillow. “It’s thahahrue!”

Lips found the cooler part of Shoto’s neck, earning squeakier giggles and a hug of sorts. “Sthahahaop it, Izuku!” Fingers were pinching up his ribs now. His arms clamed as shut as they could while he hugged his husband’s head down more. He’d only been tickled by his mother until entering U.A., and even then he still hasn’t built up that great of a tolerance. 

He could never strategize how to defend himself if there was no routine, and sometimes it wasn’t even Deku who tickled him! Yaoyorozu had gotten in on the action a few times, as had Urakara.

Sure, some of the others had tired but he’d normally get away in time, especially when it came to Bakugou. He’d heard from Kirishima and Midoriya the guy could be ruthless, whether he was being playful or hurtful with the action. 

“So, about your dear husband?” The cheesy voce brought him back to reality as he shook his head. “N-Never!” Okay, didn’t make too much sense but it was an improvement. “Never huh? How about if I,” Not Deku smirked as he moved his fingers as close as he could to the underarms. “Ah! Izuku, s-sthahhaahop it! That thahahickles!” 

“Sorry cutie, only Not Deku is here, and he’s determined to break you,” Midoriya sang out softly. He could feel his eck becoming colder and his head becoming warmer. Shoto was going to need a break soon.... but not before he broke him. Sure, there was the risk of being couch bound for activating the quirks and ruining furniture.... but it was well worth it for that beautiful laugh!

“You know.... I’ve heard rumors that your hands are more ticklish than anything else on your body. Is that ture?” He wouldn’t! Todoroki pulled his arms away the best he could before trying to scramble off the couch. He made it half way before something else was picked up. “N-No! Izuku, don’t you dare!” He could feel himself getting closer to loosing control. It happened when he was flustered. 

“Guess I’ll have to speed up the process then, huh cutie?” Rather than leaving his husband half way on the floor and taking advantage as any normal human would, Deku heaved him up back onto the couch and sat on the floor himself. A true gentleman. He then took the kicking feet back and started to trace over the white material on them. The reaction was instant.

The warmer hand wrapped around to the colder side so Shoto could hold himself, as the cooler hand rose up to cover the giggles slightly. “Sthahahop that!” His toes vurled slightly as he tired to kick out. His face was becoming a deeper red as butterflies continued to swarm in his stomach. His hand was getting a bit chilled now, ice starting to appear. “Izuku, nahhao mhahaore!” 

He didn’t want to ruin anything or hurt his husband. Not Deku sighed as he saw he was running out of time. Turning, he sat on the other’s lap and took the cold hand. He slowly rubbed It between his own until his husband relaxed enough to control it again. 

But Shoto should have known that was not the end of the “interrogation”. He shrieked when fingers raced over the center of his palm. What Deku wouldn’t give to have more hands at the moment.

He just wanted to tickle the other everywhere all at once! His laugh so so cute, his smile was so beautiful, his strange little noises were amazing! 

He tried to control himself from going nuts and tickling everywhere at random, he’d save that for the finale. His attention went back to the hand before him, earning high pitched squeals and hysterical giggles and pure laughs. 

“Oh stop! Nhahahahao, I dhahaon’t know!” It seemed Todoroki realized that they were still playing the game. “Surely you’d know, you’ve been married for a few years. He’s had to tell you something.”

Both hands were taken into a head lock, well fore arms. His palms were both then tickled silly, earning insane reactions from behind Izuku. “Sthahahaop, sthahahahaop! I dhahaon’t k-know! Izuku I’m lhahahaoising control!”

Play time was over, he was getting nervous about torching and freezing everything. The green bean sighed before giving mercy. he small pout he earned in response, earned an even better reaction. Cuddles. 

Soft breathing soon insued as the smaller of the two righted his wrong, orggering finger coming and neck kisses. “Your such a child sometimes,” Todoroki hummed. His husband shrugged. “No, just playful. How boring would life be if we were serious all the time?” He had a point. 

“I hope we weren’t too loud.” Deku shrugged. “I’m sure your mother won’t mind to hear your laughter. I know I don’t.” He giggled sleepily before tickling the other’s tummy from behind once more. 

“Thahat���s it,” Shoto huffed before turning the tables. Poor mama Todoroki was blaring her television trying to hear it over her son and son-in-laws laughter for about an hour after that, even letting the dogs into her room for peace.

But it was nice, nice to hear her baby laugh and giggle as he used to when he was younger. The guilt still stayed with her from her actions, but she was glad he forgave her. Things were going to be okay in the new Midroiya home. 

#tododeku #domestic #shoto todoroki #midoriya izuku #tickling #tickle #ticklish #bnha #my hero acadamia

[itsjesperfahey]

The wedding planer AU for Inej and Kaz or camper counseler AU for wesper would be fantastic

i sided for the wesper camp counselour au (ps i might do the kanej wedding planner later, im still coming up with some stuff for it. if i ever post it i’ll tag u!). hope u enjoy! @cornerforward13

(send me an au + a soc ship)

when wylan volunteered his summers to waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to take care of children at a summer camp, he wasn’t expecting to see him

him being jesper fahey, the loudest, most un-caring student at their local high school. dubbed the ‘class clown’ in their first year of high school, jesper was known for his quick mouth and even quicker detention acquisition. while the two had never officially spoken with each other, they had been in plenty of classes together

wylan simply wanted to learn, and jesper simply wanted to rile up the teacher in any way he could. while the class laughed along, wylan would roll his eyes and suppress any hint of amusement.

in fact, he even rolled his eyes when he first spotted jesper at the first camp counselor meeting

his heart rolled too, but no one needed to know

they bumped into each other, quite literally, as they were helping set up the camp’s main building

“shoot, i’m sorry- wylan van eck? what on earth were you doing here?”

“you know my name?” was the only thing wylan managed to squeak out as he bent down to pick up the toy cash register he had been carrying moments before

jesper let out a bark of laughter, and wylan felt his heart leap again. “of course I know your name. what kind of silly question is that? aren’t you supposed to be a genius?”

“aren’t you supposed to be, i don’t know, not working here?”

a signature smirk broke out onto jesper’s face. “in previous summers, perhaps i’d be at home sleeping at this time. but, my advisor suggested i work here this summer to get some volunteer hours. it’d make my future college application ‘stand out’ or whatever. why are you here?”

“i work here every summer. this one’s no different.”

“right. well, we’d better get back to work before we get yelled at. wouldn’t want to get fired on the first day. see you in a bit-”, jesper eyed the cash register in wylan’s hands, “- merchling.” and with that, jesper gave wylan a pat on the shoulder, and left to finish sweep the floors.

the burning of wylan’s cheeks indicated this would be a long long summer

and it was

because every weekday, from 8 to 5pm, wylan would have to see that stupid face and hear that stupid nickname. and oh, jesper just loved to tease. and wylan loved to pretend like the things jesper did had absolutely no effect on him. nope. none whatsoever.

for example, when it was swimming lessons day at the lake, wylan definitely didn’t come close to collapsing when jesper took his shirt off and tossed it wylan’s way, the everpresent smirk on his face gleaming a bit wider that morning

or when they were roasting marshmallows, and wylan was too busy making sure the kids weren’t near the fire to make his own s’more, he surely didn’t almost burst into tears when jesper walked up and handed wylan one he had made for him

also when there was kickball tournament, and it was counselor vs kids, wylan didn’t even come close to exploding when he kicked the winning home run and jesper hoisted him up and spun him around like a damn princess. absolutely not.

or maybe when they took a field trip to the science museum, and jesper picked out a crystal from the gift shop and pretended to get down on one knee and propose, wylan didn’t feel his heart stutter as much as his mouth did. the kids, innocent as ever, cheered and believed they’d actually get married. wylan had to break a few hearts that day, including jesper’s.

and lets not remember the time when it was show and tell, and while the campers brought their favorite seashells they found or their pet frogs, wylan showed off his flute skills and artwork. he didn’t melt to jelly when jesper pulled him aside afterward and whispered “hey, you’re really talented” (he also added “maybe you should draw me sometime, i’m a wonderful model, as you can see”, but wylan ignored that part)

the other counselors noticed, and would try and talk to wylan about it. he’d just shoo kaz, inej, nina and matthias away, denying everything. they’d just smile, shake their heads, and chase after the next kid who was running much too fast with a pair of scissors

the kids noticed eventually, too. “mr.wylan,” they’d say, “why are your cheeks always red?”

“because it’s too hot out here” he’d reply

and jesper would add the usual “oh, i’m sorry! it’s cause i’m here. i’ll go inside”

wylan would shake his head and grumble to himself, and the kids would run off to finish coloring. 

one time, a little girl came up to jesper, a drawing in her hand. when jesper took it, it was a drawing of him and wylan, holding hands, a heart in between them.

“now, why’d you draw this?” jesper asked, heart warm. 

“well, momma and papa like each other and they do this lots! ms.nina said you and mr.wylan like each other too! do you like him, mr.jes?” the child, hanna, replied

jesper let out a sigh. “perhaps i might. don’t figure he feels the same though, little one. hardly speaks to me, always has that cute nose of his in some music or math sheets. think i might have annoyed him one too many times.”

the child huffed, crossing her arms. “everyone likes you, mr.jes. you just gotta show mr.wylan that he can like you, too”

an idea dawned upon jesper, just then. “you’re a smart little girl, aren’t you? aye, go round up your friends. I’ve got a task for you all.”

the next morning, when the summer was drawing to a close, wylan was the last to arrive to work that day. when he flicked the lights on, he wasn’t expecting all the campers holding up poorly cut-out red paper hearts, all yelling “surprise!”

he wasn’t expecting jesper in the middle of it all, holding a bouquet of roses, while the other counselors filmed with their phones

when little hanna walked up to wylan and handed him her drawing, with jesper’s god-awful handwriting at the top spelling out ‘sorry for being an arse all the time, can i make it up with dinner tonight?’, wylan wasn't expecting to say “yes”. it just sort of slipped out, really. so did the “i never hated you, jesper. maybe some of your jokes and teases, but never you”

and when him and jesper hugged as the campers squealed in delight, he wasn’t expecting jesper to kiss him then and there

but he didn’t mind it. nope. not at all. absolutely not.

#god this was LONG #it WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE I SWEAR #i got way too carried away #i almost stopped and made this a full on oneshot #but i didn't #might come back to this AU and rework it though #no angst bc i wanted this to be fluffy and happy #soc #six of crows #the dregs #wylan #jesper #wesper #leigh bardugo #mine #mine.doc #cornerforward13 #answered