#arrested for being a silly goose

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny gets arrested at Five nights at Freddy’s

#myart #chloesimagination #doodles #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton #fnaf vanny #fnaf #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #security breach #Vanny if killing was illegal #arrested for being a silly goose #if anyone says ‘can someone draw x?’ I’ll be there

[calissarowan]

(The wizards have just been defeated by the Winx and are being taken into custody)

(In their thoughts)

{Ogron}: I can’t believe my plan failed. I bet everyone’s thinking what a failure I am as a leader.

{Bloom}: What if Sky is still in love with Diaspro? I mean, he saved me from Darkar and dropped everything to travel across the universe and be with me, but he was unwillingly engaged to her three years ago, so…

{Stella}: Am I overreacting to this whole Brandon/Mitzi thing? No, that’s silly. I never overreact. Oh my dragon! My hair is slightly askew! This is an emergency!

{Aisha}: I hope Musa and Riven finally figure their relationship out. I know they could fix it if they would only talk things out like adults.

{Musa}: Maybe Riven and I should talk things out like adults. Or I could develop a rebound crush on Jason, even though I barely know him…

{Gantlos}: Great. We’re being arrested. By a group of teenagers. With an excessive amount of glitter. This is a new low.

{Roxy}: I hope my dad doesn’t find that goose I’ve been hiding in my room…

{Tecna}: Do we actually have the legal authority to arrest people?

{Anagan}: I wonder whether, if I smile at Flora when she handcuffs me, she’ll smile back.

{Flora}: Anagan’s smiling at me. Should I smile back? I want to smile back. Damn, what does one usually do in this scenario?

{Duman}: I’m kinda hungry.

{Artù}: (rolls eyes) Humans.

#winx club #wizards of the black circle #winx ogron #winx bloom #winx stella #winx aisha #winx musa #winx gantlos #winx roxy #winx anagan #winx flora #winx duman #Winx Artù #winx tecna

[hopusthebrainlessfloof]

The Koopalings!!

Below the cut is info about these silly gooses.

General items regarding the Koopalings:

Ludwig is the oldest, Larry is the youngest. The order of birth goes Ludwig, Wendy, Roy, Morton, Lemmy, Iggy, Larry.

They're all distant relatives of the Koopa Kids. The Koopaling's birth mother is the cousin and law to King Koopa's step father's cousin. They meet up on holidays, but not often between September and May since that's when school is in session.

They have two deceased parents. Their mother died of an illness and their father died in prison after being convicted and losing custody of the children.

Bowser and Bowser Jr aren't blood related, but Bowser adopted them because he knew from personal experience the pain of being orphaned and having only Kamek to care him.

They attend private school in the Koopa Kingdom. Larry, Iggy and Lemmy are in middle school and the rest are in high school.

They're all very close since they relied primarily on each other for survival.

Ludwig

The oldest of the crew, Ludwig is very protective and tends to be a helicopter parent to his younger siblings. He wants the best for them and tends to be unable to separate brother duties from father duties. He often takes over as the parent to his siblings, no matter how often Bowser tries to assure him that he doesn't have to. His birthday is August 25th. He's in the drama club and school orchestra as a first chair violinist. He excels in his grades and is one of the heads of student body. He can be cocky at times, but often only uses it in a joking manner to his siblings. His favourite curricular school subject is English. He wants to be a psychologist for his kingdom.

Wendy

Wendy is the second oldest and has a love for shiny valuables and fashion. She has a crush on Rango, one of her father's many business contacts. She tries to act as the mom of the group to assist Ludwig, but Roy gives her a hard time about it. She roughhouses with Roy, and though it seems malicious, it's actually very therapeutic for him. Her birthday is April 17th. She's in the drama club and she's on the swim team. Her favourite curricular class is World History. She also excels many in her class, but she's constantly reminded that she lives in Ludwig's shadow.

Roy

Roy was heavily traumatised by his father, and what his father did would eventually lead to him being arrested and jailed. Roy had a psychic break when the Koopalings first got adopted and had to stay at the mental hospital for two weeks. He was diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety. His grades aren't terrific, but he isn't in danger of failing either. It's hard for him to stay focused in school. He has no favourite subject, but does a bit better in mathematics than anything else. He likes working out and roughhousing since it gives him a chance to indulge himself in the physical action of fighting against what happened to him. His birthday is August 8th. He got a piercing from sneaking out and hanging out with friends.

Morton

Morton is a foodie and can be hyperactive. His grades are a bit higher than Roy's, but he doesn't aim to excel like his other older siblings. He's usually a love bug, but can develop a sense of sarcasm when he feels it's necessary. His birthday is May 17th. He's a part of the newspaper club, and is in charge of the photography in the articles. He's into World Language class, but claims his favourite subject is lunch. Despite the seems, he likes sports as well. He acts as a mediator between his older and younger siblings due to being the middle child.

Lemmy

Lemmy is the older twin by twenty minutes and twenty-nine seconds (19:89). He's a kid at heart and loves to play with childhood toys. He acts as a translator for Iggy and the world. He's part of the junior drama club and gymnastics team. He loves English, specifically Shakespearean plays. He's considered childish by his siblings and tends to annoy them playfully every now and then. He's close friends with Rango, and was the one that introduced him to Wendy.

Iggy

Iggy was born twenty minutes and twenty-nine seconds after Lemmy, but he wasn't supposed to be born for another two months. The reason he was conceived early was because he would otherwise die if he wasn't born during Lemmy's birth. He has a lot of development disabilities due to this, so he was placed in special education. He likes hands-on activities, and because of this, has a love of science. His service Chomp, Chompletta, helps him with daily tasks such as walking and using the bathroom. Should something happen to him, she's in charge of alerting someone to help. Lemmy helps him express his needs and wants to other people due to their twin telepathy. His and Lemmy's birthday is on November 22nd.

Larry

Larry HATES to be babied, but many people do so anyway because he's the youngest. He DJ's after school at the Electrodrome to make extra bucks so he can buy the coolest shoes and whatever is "in" at the time. He's addicted to social media and trends. He also likes playing videogames, though he's only allowed to play E or E10 games. He's failing a lot of his classes because his peers think he's cool when he acts out in school and doesn't do any schoolwork. He won't let anyone help him though because it feels like "babying".

#my art #super mario #koopalings #headcanon #long post #ludwig von koopa #wendy o koopa #roy koopa #morton koopa jr #lemmy koopa #iggy koopa #larry koopa #ask the koopalings

[goobiestar]

Random anthro hcs

Hcs mainly about Bluestar, Snowfur, Goosefeather, Tallstar, Crookedstar, Oakheart.. etc etc

I got rid of their suffixes because these cats are in a society now with last names lol.

Blue and Snow are twins.

Misty and stone are ALSO twins, then moss came along, she was a preemiebaby.

Blue is still trans in this au, an oc has the kits, shes in a poly with Crooked too.

Speaking of which, Blue and Goose are not trusted drivers, Goose was arrested for drinking and driving, hes awful. ❤️

More down here

The clans are split into states/countries/wtv and usually most citizens are soldiers in their armies, with the leaders being the head of it all (idk i need more fixing up with this shit).

Goose is the WORST cat to room with at a sleepover/his partner, he snores loud, moves around a lot, kicks, and has awful night terrors and gets out of bed frequently.

Pine has gotten used to this.

And so as Sage.

Featherwhisker really enjoys mixing up their wardrobe at times, they can look either very sharp or have a very lazy style + a cardigan/vest, they also have silly socks. :)

Snow loves swimming and usually paddles around doggystyle in a pool, meanwhile Blue is too afraid to even touch the water, she much rather sit under the shade drinking a smoothie.

Thistle promised he knew how to skate, he owned a skateboard for god’s sake.. um… whats an ollie again? And yes mom,,, im wearing my helmet..

Goose usually stinks of weed in all honestly or salty water, but sometimes, after a nice shower, he smells a LOT like coconut, they enjoy the beach smell.

Not to mention, he enjoys going there with Snow and sometimes surfboarding when she was younger, now he sits and watched her in the sand as she takes on the waves on his old surfboard.

Thrush is allergic to peanuts, deathly allergic. He once ate something without realizing it had peanuts in it and was sent to the hospital.

Goose grew a beard faster than storm, his transitioning HRT helped him grow it faster than him.

Storm(tail) wasn’t actually married to Wisteria(moonflower), he just made her his fiancé and just… never planned on marrying her, just so the probing questions of “when are you gonna marry her?” Go away.

Just to get goose’s ‘powers’ out of the way, hes a superstition that speaks to god, and has heavy gut feeling about most things, taking it as a sign to back off or do it. He becomes ‘weird’ and crazy as his superstitions become worse as he deteriorates mentally.

Goose doesn’t like going to church, but he budges eventually. No innocence nor purity in that man sorry.

Goose taught Snow how to swim/surf, he taught Blue how to play the electric guitar and drums, seeing that she was into heavy music in her youth

Oak and Crooked enjoyed playing school sports, both would get very competitive of eachother but the second one looses or is bad mouthed by someone else all hell goes on that guy!!!

Oak was passed down his father’s motorcycle, a family heritage—after Oak died, Crooked stored it in the garage safe and hidden.

Oak is 2 years older than Crooked, (by the time Storm) Storm was pampered and spoiled by his mother, but after a few months of getting his injury by ‘playing too rough’ by the river, Rain(flower) stopped visiting

Oak is more of a dad’s boy, Shell was just your normal cool, loving dad to both his boys, Oak just always preferred him more.

I renamed Tallstar to Nightingale/Gale here

Nightingale enjoyed taking things at a quick pace, he never liked how his father took things piece by piece and explained everything, he was more visual and quick.

Nightingale also really enjoyed cross-country.. lol, he wanted to race in a car too when he was older so he looked into cars.

His father, Sand, an construction worker, told him that dream is impossible and working in construction is ‘easy’ money. It isn’t.

Nightingale met Jake when his car started to have a leakage and the smell of gasoline filled his nose, his car broke down and Gale ended up fainting in it, Jake—and engineer, decided it was Gale’s lucky day and helped him.

Goose’s dream job was either to be an Mechanic or something in the building field—his godmother Sheep(cloudberry), begged him to work with her and see how the medical fields work out since she wants a good lineage in the family.

Goose and Pine enemies to lovers, they started meeting up when Pine made his career in business with the government of their state/town (leave me alone), he was a wealthy well-known man and they met when Goose didn’t have enough money in the store to buy his baby some food.

I’ll make more later just lmk what characters u wanna see if u actually read these, lmao

#rb later #im seeing some ppl do it with random characters + their faves and timeline soooo why not lol #i doubt anyone is reading these but theyre just fun to have #warrior cats #goobie bites #wc anthro au

[dr-n-dustrielle]

Hypothetically if we ever got arrested, do you think that “I was just being a silly goose, your honor” would be a valid defense?

#no the cops aren’t coming #at least yet #…I think

[imaginarymen]

I am trying to sum it up without being too complicated I'm sorry for the paragraphs of explanation

So basically the series starts with Hench.co, it's the main one and most of the rest are supplemental/what happens next to the cast

Hench.co is split into three different "pieces" of the world. One follows Hench.co's Science Division of Dr. Evalyn, Daniel "Bullet" Truth, Dr. Finley Appar, and Cocaine Goose, who work under the Chess King who is the head of Hench.co and he pretends to be a hero

The second is following the Alliance Heroes, which is a hero group funded by the government. They train new heroes and make sure the news keeps the hero's images looking good. This system is very corrupt and is filled with horrible people pretending to be heroes. One of the main ones being Lady Justice who we hate as she is horrible and abusive and we don't like her

The third following Cobra and Kitsune's chaos as they have to hide that they're a hero/villain lesbian relationship and they have 3 kids, as well as Cobra looking into Hench.co and Kitsune trying to unravel her past

There's recurring minor characters that are in the other series like the Elementals Celine, Samson, Trixie, and Gabriel who are Alyssa's close friends, and The Leader who is the main antagonist of ABTE, and a few more minor characters who get a lot of love

The Forgotten Realm is a closed mini series heavily based on OTGW, it's about Stephanie who falls into the titular realm and has to find a way to escape. Along the way we find out more about how the realm has affected the world in particular, and about the Pantheon as well. We also learn about how the realm slowly turns any human who falls there into something... Different, which plays a big part in the series

A Bite to Eat is about the characters Ethan and Olivia, a newly wed t4t couple when Ethan is turned into a vampire. Mainly just fluff and crack in this angsty world. Except of course this is where we learn more about The Leader of the Monster Hunters and how he's connected to the realm. Overall just a silly little queer show that's very much "Chaos of the week" with occasional but absolutely destroying angst

Elementals is a bit of a "What's next?" as it takes place during/after the main events of Hench.co, however in another town. It follows Celine, Samson, Trixie, and Gabriel as they take on a "villain of the week" trying to be the chosen ones they are. They have an immortal mentor named Alexander who lives on coffee and arson and has been arrested more times than he can count. He is playing bad mobile games on God's company time however his job is to make sure these kids don't die so... Basically this series answers some of the questions left like "Whatever happened to Ford Abbot?" and "What kind of damage did the Realm do?" Also fun fact Celine's sister is Stephanie and a minor plot point is trying to find her

Sorry for the ramble I just love talking about these guys sm

Never apologize for rambling! Feel free to badger all u like. I love all these concepts! Heroes, villains, chaos, fluff, angst, a whole pantheon! What’s not to love?

#➢ imaginary creators #➢ imaginary asks

[transexuality]

local goose has been prosecuted and arrested for being "too silly." more news at 11.

[dylanadreams]

Had a dream last night that I killed somebody. It was an accident. I decided to cover it up and got rid of some evidence that would condemn me. The whole dream, the death was being investigated and I was acting SO innocent and morose about the whole thing. At the end of the dream, I was standing in a desert with a group of people. Somebody picked up an item out of the sand - it was the piece of evidence I had gotten rid of. Now, there were two versions of how this dream ended. It was weird - one ending played, and then my dream rewound itself and played out the second alternate ending. In the first, the cop or detective or whatever examined the item and he immediately knew it implicated me. He seemed sad and disappointed. I was arrested.

In the second ending, the detective also immediately recognized that the item implicated me, but he pretended he didn't. He got rid of it. Played dumb and let me go.

What dream me should have done from the get go is reported the accidental death I caused and faced the consequences. But no, I had to go the silly goose route.

#dream

[thebitchbehindtheslaughter]

BREAKING NEWS: Any and All Manchineel Trees Are Going to Prison

Following the incident(s) of [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED], and of course, The Fall of Man, Manchineel Trees are being arrested one after the other for the following crimes: 

- Attempted strangulation  - Mass genocide  - Attempted assault  - Successful assault  - Consumption of human tears  - Self necromancy  - Being apple  - H  - Living in Florida  - Not living in Florida  - Berry?  - Poisoning  - Violating the Geneva Convention 

If you see a Manchineel tree in your area be warned, it is a violent and aggressive criminal that will make you stand beside it for two minutes. Do not fall for its tricks, you silly goose, unless a snake offers you a fruit. Then do fall its tricks, you silly goose.  This article has been funded by the [REDACTED] Research Foundation of [REDACTED] 13XX 

#shitpost #tw violence mention #call this a shitshow and a half #anyway #manchineel tree #plants #florida #i guess #haaa #watch no one see this #man #yet another bout of effort gone to waste #🫠

[butwhatifidothis]

It's not serious because it ISN'T played in a serious manner. One look through Dorothea and Edelgard's support makes it pretty obvious.

"Dorothea: Edie. I'm telling you I'm fine. If you push me any further, I'll write an opera about you. I'll do it right here and now. And then I'll sing it in your face!

Edelgard: Settle down, Dorothea, I can take a hint! If you insist, I'll drop the subject. Whatever you do, don't write more opera lines about me. My cheeks are probably still red from your last performance."

So yeah, it's not some deep "Edelgard is censoring operas for giving info about the war" so much as it is "Edelgard's bans her friends play where she's the main character because she's embarrassed by the way she'll be depicted."

Hell, you can't even go "she's censoring it because she doesnt want to be potrayed negatively" because she's potrayed positively in said play. It's not serious because it isn't POTRAYED seriously.

My guy I don’t know how to tell ya this but censorship is literally always serious. There’s no “haha this person of high authority disallowed the public from producing [x piece of art here] because they’re just a silly goose” there is almost only ever “this person of high authority disallowed the public from producing [x piece of art here] because they are abusing their power over the people.” Edelgard literally passed a law saying the company couldn’t make the play before she even saw it. I cannot stress this enough: that is serious, because that is censorship, and censorship is bad 99.99% of the time because it holds back the arts and disincentives people from engaging in artistic drives lest their works be deemed illegal and they as artists put in danger of being arrested for breaking the law of “don’t make art this one person who’s in charge doesn’t like.” 

Like!! “you can't even go "she's censoring it because she doesnt want to be potrayed negatively" because she's potrayed positively in said play” except she banned it before she saw it, so she can’t even know for a fact that she was portrayed either positively, negatively, in a serious light or a light-hearted one, in an action piece or a political drama, whether there’s romance in the forefront or as a central focus or even present at all - she knows zero, zilch, nada about this play except for it was made by the Mittelfrank Opera Company and so maybe Dorothea had a direct hand in actually writing it, and that was enough for her to make an official decree that banned the company from performing this play. 

I’m going to be serious and transparent here, I am not understanding how “no, she didn’t ban the play for political reasons, or because it shows her in a bad light, but because - despite it (in all likelihoods) being something that shows her in a good light - it was about her at all, and so she banned it and made a decree saying this company isn’t allowed to make or perform this play in front of the public, and is only convinced otherwise because of favoritism” is any better at all. You said in the previous ask that this never said that all plays about the war are banned, “just” this one, but be honest with me! How on earth is this not indicative of something larger when any and all plays about the war must have Edelgard as the main character nearly without exception? When she’s already shown a penchant of censoring things she doesn’t want others knowing during the war? Edelgard is the face of the war, by her own want, so unless you are specifically detailing the life of one specific person that isn’t Edelgard (or Byleth or Hubert, because they are attached to Edelgard’s hips and thus must also heavily feature her) you just can’t make a play about the war, you can’t make one of her at all, whether or not it’s positive or negative, unless you’re a very close friend of hers that can convince her otherwise. 

Edelgard getting flustered about Dorothea writing a play about her is all cute and funny and okay and something I literally have zero problems with up until she spreads and forces the people to comply to not do that with a decree that actively disallows them from doing so. At that point it is no longer just her getting haha embarrassed about her friend writing something about her. That is her, as an authority figure responsible for thousands of people, showing that she is willing to throw around her power to stop people from making, apparently, literally harmless art about her, all because she’s too childish and insecure and she’s letting her emotions heavily influence her decisions that affect thousands of people, not just her personal circle of friends.

Because that is what their supports are referring to. Edelgard asking one friend to not write anything about her (or at least not saying what they wrote to her face). You’ll notice a distinct lack of any mention of “I will actively legally ban plays where I am the main character” in their supports, because their supports are not in reference to Edelgard actively legally banning plays where she is the main character. That that is what ends up happening in their ending despite its light-hearted tone should be very worrying.

#ask #anon #anti edelgard #Anti-edelgard #Edelgard discourse #edelgard critical #just to be safe #exqueuese me princess #maybe this is just a difference in opinion? #like I'm very sorry for being kinda mean but I am genuinely lost #because legit I am NOT seeing how what you're describing is any better if not actually worse #because apparently it's NOT the war that's the issue but that it has Edelgard as the main character AT ALL no matter what #like literally even Rhea allows that much?? She doesn't ban the making of the Seiros x Wilheim plays themselves?? #and those plays are implied to be adult in nature?? #it's just Seteth banning them from the library (which hey!! still very bad!!)

[levbug]

FBI OPEN UP, UR UNDER ARREST FOR BEING WONDERFUL AND AMAZING!!💞💞🔫U may not know me and I may not know u, but it's Thursday [Check my pinned post to fully understand🙃😊😔🔫] I'm gonna scare everyone aight– anywaYS, if u r taking request, how about nekoma and shiratorizawa with a foreign manager? If u can do it, have fun writing!!💞💞

hi!! omg thank u for deeming me fit for ur surprise request game!!! im 🥺🥺!! my requests aren’t open but i decided to do this because,,,,im soft for shiratorizawa </3 (i didn’t end up doing nekoma but i hope this is still okay!) thank you for taking the time to request btw!!!

#pairing ー shiratorizawa x gender neutral! reader (platonic)

#warnings ー none uwu

#wc ー 1.1k

▪ oh, you're in for a wild ride with these guys

▪ they will bombard you with questions about your culture and language

▪ and by they, i mostly mean tendou :/

  ▴ he'd probably just ask you to teach him curse words and stuff tho </3

  ▴ oh tendou, you silly goose! *80s laugh track intensifies*

▪ it wasn't that the others were disinterested in you, because they totally are! you're their manager and they love you like family! most of them just preferred to question you when you weren't busy :(

  ▴ of course there are times when their curiosity ends up getting the best of them and they ask you during practice and you answer and oh, look, now they're all sitting cross-legged on the gym floor, eyes gleaming with interest

  ▴ coach washijo ended up walking in on that and gave you a long, harsh lecture on your duties as a managers as the boys did 40 rounds of their punishment conditioning :((

▪ anyways </3

▪ since you came from a foreign country, your social norms and way of living is (probably) different from that of the boys, in whom none have ever left japan's soil

    ▴ tbh they were probably confused when they saw you greet someone with like,,,a kiss on the cheek or a good ol' pat on the back despite you not really knowing them.

    ▴ deadasss goshiki almost combusted when you first greeted him with a hug </3 he was so flustered you swore you had seen blood slowly trickling down his nose :<

 ▪ as i said earlier, they're all really interested in knowing about your culture! but they're all interested in different areas, i think.

▪ tendou would be interested with pop culture stuff

  ▴ like all the celebrities (so he can simp for them LMAO) and all the tea ☕ and stuff idk i feel like he's just into the gossip </3 (becos same HAHAH)

▪ shirabu would bug you less, but he'd still love to hear when you'd talk about this one medicine your country had discovered or a medicine that's illegal in japan but available in your country

  ▴ + shirabu heart points if you bring him some so he can study it and be a big nerd </3

  ▴ (i don't think it's canon that shirabu likes studying medicines and their compositions and stuff but i like to think he does </3)

▪ i think reon would know the most about you though??? 

  ▴ he has no specific area of interest, but he knows the most because of your weekly tea times </3 he's even picked up on a few words in your mother tongue by listening to you speak

  ▴ also he TOTALLY doesn't find your accent endearing </3 no not reon not ever </3

  ▴ and he TOTALLY doesn't just *heart squeeze* when you mispronounce something or make a grammar mistake beCAUSE IT'S JUST TOO CUTE OH GOSH HE CAN'T HELP IT YOU MAKE HIM HAVE HAPPY TEARS

▪ anyways :D

▪ semi would be interested in the music (i went for such a basic route wOW)

  ▴ but fr tho he wants to know more about your countries indigenous people and all the instruments and rituals and just know more about the sound of your country (cos he wants to incorporate it into his own music ☠)

  ▴ like full-on scribbling notes in his tiny little notepad as he nods along to what you were saying, hanging on to each and every word </3

  ▴ (did i forget to say i love semi? because i love semi !! semi OWNS me for friques sake pLEASE LET ME MARRY HIM)

▪ our lovely libero, mr. yamagata would probably be interested in the food?? 

  ▴ if you bring him one of your countries local foods!!!

  ▴ even if it's street food he's gonna treat it like it came from like,,,a restaurant as fancy as the one in ratatouille

  ▴ and if you let him have bites of your lunch? ,,,, you might be unintentionally holding yamagata's heart in your hands </3

▪ NEXT IS KAWANISHI!!!

  ▴ this is so out of order oh my </3

▪ kawanishi probably wouldn't ask you anything tbh? i feel like he'd listen if you spoke about your home country and what it was like there, but he wouldn't bug you about it. 

  ▴ like yeah he wants to know but he wouldn't pester you??? does that english 😭😭

  ▴ but sneak a peek out of the corner of your eye and you best bet you can see kawanishi listening just as intently as the others as you told them about this one ethnic celebration you had attended

▪ speaking of kouhais, our sweet baby ace goshiki has yet to take a turn!!

▪  he loves to hear about the rich culture of your country! even if he can't understand some things, he still loves listening to you! the shine in your eyes when you speak about all your friends and shenanigans back home, as well as all the traditions and rituals you had experienced was enough to content goshiki. he loved seeing you happy!

  ▴ (SIMP!!!!)

▪  finally, our king (and captain), mr. ushiwaka </3

▪  he's kind of like reon in the sense that while he doesn't really ask, he knows the most about you

  ▴ he would listen more intently than reon imo because mr. waka-kun definitely wants to travel the world someday (and maybe even play professionally for another country!), so he'd love to learn about different cultures <33

  ▴ watch him even try to learn your mother tongue and actually be kinda good at it </3

▪ OH one thing these guys all share in common tho is being interested in your countries volleyball team during olympics season </3

  ▴if your home country and japan go against each other,,,,well, let's just say it ends in a lot of bets :)

▪ btw if you ever get homesick, you best bet these boys will go out of their way to find the stuff that reminds you of home (even if it's something super rare </3) and surprise you with it

  ▴ uhh,,,there's probably some stuff that doesn't even seem like it came from your country (or japan, for that matter) but tendou thought it looked cool so he got it for you ://

▪ it's also pretty fun during everyone's birthdays :))

▴ you cook them some popular dishes that your mother had learned from her mother and wATCH THEM ALL SWOON FOR YOU AND YOUR COOKING!!!!

▪ you own their hearts tbh </3

▪ but that's all good tho :))

▪ cos shiratorizawa's volleyball team owns your heart too :))

#shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq!! #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #ushijima x reader #oohira x reader #yamagata x reader #semi x reader #shirabu x reader #kawanishi x reader #goshiki x reader #tendou x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #oohira reon #yamagata hayato #tendou satori #semi eita #shirabu kenjiro #kawanishi taichi #goshiki tsutomu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu imagines #ri$$ie.txt

[xxsupergleedalexx]

owo you got arrested bestie??

Yes bestie :( it was a whole ordeal, I'm fine now though! I was just being a silly goose.

#if they didnt want people to steal the stop sign then why was it so easy to remove from the ground

[nevermindirah]

👩‍🏭 and 📊

Ooh thank you for asking, especially about my WIPs, I've been meaning to take a census!

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

I got arrested once, for protesting, and it sucked. 0/10 would not do again. Nothing Terrible TM happened to me it was just low-grade the criminal legal system is dehumanizing. I almost wrote a little something about our youngest immortals, um, facilitating a peaceful transition of power in the US in January 2021 but I decided not to for basically these reasons 😬

📊 Current number of WIPs

ELEVEN. Why is my brain like this. (I have ADHD that's why.) They are:

what if Nile died a week earlier / what if Booker picked up Nile in Afghanistan

Sam Wilson & Nile are cousins

music 'Ohana-thon fic / merged with Juneteenth Montero idea

sugar daddy/sugar baby — merged with Nile can't believe she's about to have sex with someone who has an honest to God live laugh love poster in his kitchen, hat tip to @sindirimba for shouting to me about how ridiculously Gen-X earnest Matthias is on Insta

corset porn follow-up to my Big Bang

genderqueer Nile meta

fireworks

vaguely historical nonsense

Nile Booker Rachida in-universe RPF threesome in honor of @victimhood's The Beautiful Game, yes it involves pegging it's gonna be beautiful (when I finally fucking finish it)

Sam Wilson chats with Tigris & Amelie in honor of @mprosperossprite's goose fic

NILE & QUYNH PORN

Wait hang on, no, I have TWELVE WIPs. Because at some point I’m also gonna sit down and write a meta about how Andromache the Scythian is so old that the name she’s gone by for thousands of years isn’t even from her original culture, modern people may not have a name for the culture that raised her, she may not even remember it herself — and how Andy, with such long and painful experience of being cut off from her culture and being the last of her people, might relate to survivors of modern genocides.

Omg @ me, this list flails wildly between intensely political and intensely horny and intensely silly, like, brain are you ok in there? Do you need a juice box or something?

PS Evie if you want to post a list of your WIPs I’d be very 👀

#fandom friends #fic ideas #why am i like this #adhd things #police violence cw #genocide cw

[labyrinth-archive]

Stars in a Bottle Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: Eleven x Clara Length: 4,000 words Warnings: None Also on Ao3

Keeping the Doctor still is like trying to catch stars in a bottle, Clara thinks. He’s something that just can’t be contained, his energy spilling over, electric and crackling and begging to be back in the sky.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering he and Clara are currently stuck in a sub, miles and miles down under the sea. (A follow up to the Series 7 episode, Cold War, which ends with the Doctor and Clara being trapped on a submarine until they reach the TARDIS at the South Pole.)

Clara stands atop a surfaced submarine, surrounded by a sea of half-sunken icebergs. There’s snow flurries fluttering softly in the air like white feathers and wind whipping against her pale blue party dress, and up in the sky, there’s a silver Ice Warrior spaceship, flying away.

But never mind that. Clara’s more interested in why, when the Doctor promised her Vegas, the TARDIS dumped them onto a sinking submarine and then disappeared, like some sort of twisted version of ding-dong-ditch. “Where’s the TARDIS? You never explained,” Clara asks him now, and the Doctor glances at her a bit shiftily, before edging away as if he’s afraid of a scolding.

“I’ve been tinkering, adjusting some settings. I’m allowed,” he tells her, adding on that last sentence a bit defensively when Clara raises an eyebrow.

“What did you do?”

“I reset the HADS.” Clara stares at him blankly. She has no idea what the HADS is, other than she’s pretty sure  - no, scratch that - definitely sure he shouldn’t have been tinkering with it in the first place.

“The Hostile Action Displacement System,” he explains. “If the TARDIS thinks it’s under attack, it relocates. Which is why the TARDIS is now at...”

The Doctor’s next words come out in a low, half-mumble under his breath, like maybe if he says them quietly enough, Clara can’t hear him, and if she can’t hear him, then she can’t be mad at him.

His plan’s not working.

“Doctor,” Clara says, “where’s the TARDIS?”

”She’s at the pole.”

“Right. Not far, then.”

He wrinkles his nose, “The South Pole.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“I see now.”

“You do, don’t you?”

And with that, the Doctor turns, and just like he’s simply using a deep sea Uber, he stares at the submarine captain and asks, “Can we have a lift?”

#

Clara sits in her small submarine cabin and sighs, rubbing her temple and closing her eyes.

By all accounts, the Doctor was handling being stuck on the sub better when its lights were flashing bright red and there was an Ice Warrior who wanted them all dead. That, at least, was dangerous, and dangerous was exciting, so dangerous was something the Doctor could handle. Boredom, he could not.

He’d already created a “disco” setting for the warning lights, invented a rather ominous looking tea kettle out of bits from a broken welding iron, and tried to increase the sub’s speed by something called “a klavnic knot.” All this eventually led to the Captain suggesting that the Doctor retire to his cabin indefinitely or be shot through the head.

The Doctor‘d had to think about it for a long minute.

But now he‘s here with her, in this too-grey, too-small of a room, and the both of them sit side-by-side on the hard edge of the narrow, metal bunk, and stare straight ahead at the windowless wall.

“You promised me Vegas,” Clara says.

“I know.” A beat, and then, “This isn’t Vegas.”

”Trust me,” the Doctor says, glowering at the wall, “I know.”

Clara laughs and then shudders, suddenly chilled. The pretty, filmy but flimsy fabric of her vintage dress she’d picked out seems like a bad choice, in hindsight, and Clara frowns ruefully as she distinctly remembers coming across a forest-green, fur-lined parka while in the TARDIS wardrobe and tossing it aside.

Why, oh, why, had she done that?

(Well, probably because she thought she was going to be partying in Vegas, and one simply did not wear parkas when one went partying in Vegas.)

Goose bumps blossom down her arms, so Clara crosses them, folding them against her chest, trying to keep warm, and then, to her surprise, she sees the Doctor’s stopped watching the wall and is looking at her now instead, frowning in that worried way of his that makes his eyes look ten-thousand-years-old.

“What?” she asks, but instead of replying, he moves, standing and slipping his arms out of the sleeves of his long, deep purple coat, and then he leans down, gently draping it over Clara’s shoulders, and she feels the warm weight of his hands lingering along her arms just for a moment as he does. “Better?” he asks.

His coat is much too big and far too long for someone as short as she is, and Clara’s overcome with the sensation that she’s a caterpillar, bundled up inside of a fabric cocoon. The ends of the coat sleeves go beyond the tips of her fingers, and the hem of it falls past her heels to brush against the floor, but the tweed is soothing and soft and wraps her in warmth, and Clara thinks she’s never worn anything cozier in her life.

”Better,” Clara agrees, as she snuggles down deeper inside. “Thank you, but don’t you need it?”

The Doctor makes a harrumphing, dismissive sort of noise, as if Clara’s made another silly suggestion again, like he did that one time she compared time streams to strawberry jam. “‘Course I don’t.”

Clara’s eyes sweep over him, taking in his woven waistcoat and white shirtsleeves. She doesn’t see how he can possibly stand it, how he’s dealing so easily with the freezing, icy air, when just the idea of giving up the coat makes her shudder again, a full body one that travels all the way down to the tips of her toes, and the Doctor reaches out to take her hand in his. “Like ice,” he murmurs, closing his other hand over hers and rubbing it, briskly but gently, trying to get some heat back into it. “Humans. Your lot has such terribly inconvenient body temperatures. Wouldn’t last a day picnicking in the Arctic without protection.”

“Who would do a thing like that, anyway?”

“The abominable snowmen, for one. Oh, they’ve got such good inner temperature, Clara, they can frolic on the ice floes for days without catching a cold. I should take you to meet their clan. Well,“ he pauses there, rethinking that. “They’ve got good temperatures, but not so much good tempers. So, on second thought, no, maybe we won’t visit them after all.”

Clara hums in agreement, listening as the Doctor continues to talk about this and that and then change his mind all within the time it takes for her to inhale, and when he’s done, she asks, “How are you not cold?” “Ah,” he says, and she can already hear so much smugness packed into the one tiny word. “Time Lord biology. I’m perfectly adaptable to both lower and higher temperatures. Gallifreyan bodies,” he informs her, “are far superior to human bodies’.”

“Seriously? Superior?”

”In every possible way.”

“How do you explain that chin, then?”

He huffs at her, and then clucks, muttering something indignantly under his breath that sounds like a mixture of ungrateful minx and shut up.

But he doesn’t let go of her hand.

#

Keeping the Doctor still is like trying to catch stars in a bottle, Clara thinks. He’s something that just can’t be contained, his energy spilling over, electric and crackling and begging to be back in the sky.

Right now he’s a moving blur of long, tangled limbs as he flaps his hands and talks and plans, his mind already far beyond the confines of the sub.

“We can still go to Vegas,” he tells Clara. ”Vegas in nineteen-eighty-nine, in fact. Neon lights against the night sky. Firework shows and fireball drinks, dance floors and disco balls, and everywhere you go, people hoping for a little thing called luck.”

He plops down beside her suddenly, slinging his arm over her shoulders, “Or, alternatively, Vegas in three-thousand-thirteen, when anti-gravs are all the rage, and the Vegas strip levitates. Gives a whole new meaning to walking on air. Or, an alternative to the alternative: we don’t choose a Vegas, we choose both Vegases. Well, same Vegas, different points in time. But the question is, Clara Oswald, which one first?” Clara tilts back to peer up at him, and she feels his arm adjust around her, letting her lean back, but not letting her go.

“I think,“ she says, trying to contain a smile, “that we’d better get off the sub first.”

He huffs, “Practical spoilsport.”

#

Later, Clara catches the Doctor attempting to slip out the door.

“Doctor,” Clara says warningly, still wrapped up in his coat, nearly tripping on its hem as she rises to stop him, ”didn’t the Captain put you on cabin arrest?”

The Doctor flaps his hand, as if he can simply wave away her concern, and since he’s holding his sonic screwdriver as he does this, he sends its bright neon light flashing around the room.

“Clara, please,” he says, “it’s your day off, stop nannying.”

“Excuse me?” Clara raises an eyebrow. She’ll stop nannying when someone stops acting like a child that needs a nanny, thank you very much.

“I’ll skip out for just a mo.”

“Doctor, I think you should stay in here.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Clara eyes him skeptically, doubt written out across her face, but he ignores it.

Instead, he places his palm against the curve of her cheek, and leans forward to press a swift kiss to her forehead, his thumb brushing lightly along her cheekbone as he does.

“You worry too much,” he tells her blithely, and Clara thinks he means his words to be soothing, but they really just make her think he’s up to something shifty.

“I think I worry the proper amount,” Clara counters, but the Doctor’s already merrily slipping away, out of her grasp, closing the door behind him and heading down the corridor.

It’s not even a full fifteen minutes later when Clara hears the sound of the sonic and then something that sounds suspiciously like falling metal, followed by garbled shouting and the sharp click of a handgun’s safety being released. There’s silence for a second after that, and then Clara hears rapid, clumsy footsteps headed back toward the cabin.

The door opens, the Doctor scuttles inside, and Clara tries not to smirk as he quietly announces: “I think I should stay in here.”

# Clara sits with her chin resting on her hands, watching the Doctor, who’s holding the sonic screwdriver uncomfortably tight and flickering its green light as he stares up at the lightbulb in a way she doesn’t quite like. Before he can sonic it to be brighter or darker or turn it into a lava lamp or whatever the despairingly bored Time Lord is thinking of doing, Clara decides to distract him.

“Tell me about something,” she commands.

“Tell you about what?” he asks, and he sounds both curious and confused by her request, but he still hasn’t looked away from the light.

“A fact, a story, anything,” Clara says. “You’re a thousand years old. There must be something you can talk about. Space trivia. Urban myths. The first place that you visited. Last girl that you kissed.”

Now that catches his attention, Clara notices. At her last sentence, his head snaps down and he swivels around to stare at her in surprise.

“Oh,” Clara says, grinning now. “It was some kiss, then, was it?”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it, indignant.

“See,” Clara says smugly, “knew it was a snog box.”

“Shut up,” he finally says, and Clara notices a faint dusting of pink right across his cheeks.

“You blushed,” she says delightedly, and then she frowns, and he stares at her oddly, like she’s some sort of cipher he can’t figure out. And there’s something she can’t quite figure out either, because somewhere deep in the back of her mind, there’s a dark sense of déjà vu and a nagging notion that she’s said those words to him before.

But she couldn’t have.

She’s positive.

It isn’t possible.

Being trapped under the ocean must be doing things to her mind.

“Come on, tell me about her,” Clara says, pushing those hazy, bothersome thoughts away, and turning her attention back to the Doctor. “Where’d you meet this girl?”

“London,” he answers, and though he’s there beside her, he looks faraway. “It was snowing. There were snowmen. She -“ he pauses, looks over at Clara, down at her dress, and he looks like he’s halfway out of the past, halfway into the present, as he almost inaudibly says, “She wore a blue dress too.”

Clara listens to him carefully, watches intently, but there are too many layers in his voice and emotions flashing over his face for her to fully decipher. As soon as she sees sadness in his eyes, she catches a glimpse of wonder, and then past that there’s grief and determination and hope and, more than anything, the look of a man trying to solve something he just can’t understand.

“Was she nice, this girl?” Clara asks quietly.

He looks down at the floor, “Yes, yes she was. She was nice and brave and clever and far better than me.”

“Nah,” Clara teases. “That’s impossible, no one’s better than you.”

He looks up at her, “You’d be surprised.”

They sit in silence for a minute, and then Clara asks, “So what happened to her? Is she still alive?”

The Doctor stares at her, searches her eyes, and ever so softly, he says, “Sometimes I think she is.”

Clara nods, not knowing why she feels like she’s going to smile, but also going to cry. #

The Doctor’s dealing with his bored, listless energy by relentlessly rapping his hand against metal, the rise and fall of his fingers rhythmic like rain.

It’s driving Clara insane.

She’s trying to read a book she’s found in the cabin. The book’s not interesting, really. It’s something to do with Russian history and is as dusty as it is long, but there’s not much else to do, and at least it’s a novelty to think that, technically, she’s reading a book in Russian even if it’s all being translated into English for her.

But Clara can’t concentrate with that constant, infernal tapping.

“Doctor, stop,” she says sternly.

Without looking up from her book, Clara reaches her hand out and lays it on top of his, the pads of her fingers pressing against the back of his hand, pulling it down and pinning it lightly in place in-between them.

The Doctor stills under her touch, the cabin falling silent, his swirling sea of restless energy starting to calm, and then slowly, she feels his hand move beneath hers, rotating and repositioning so that they’re palm to palm, holding hands.

Amused, Clara’s eyes flicker up from her book to look at him, but he’s not looking at her. He’s staring somewhere up at where the ceiling meets the wall, and Clara wonders if he's even noticed their entwined hands at all.

Holding her hand must’ve been some sort of automatic, unconscious response, she realizes as she watches him, because he’s off lost in thought, counting the bolts in the room or mentally reciting the numbers of pi, or whatever it is bored Time Lords do.

At least he’s quiet, she thinks, and goes back to her book, her eyes taking in the faded, narrow print on the page.

She makes it a whole four paragraphs more before she senses his absent-minded energy surging again, and he starts shifting restlessly.

Then she feels the soft brush of his thumb moving up, gently ghosting across her skin.

Clara’s breath catches, caught somewhere beneath her collarbone, and there’s surprise in her eyes before slowly, she exhales, convinced it was all a mistake. But then he does it again, his thumb drifting up, absently tracing a circle on the soft, inner center of her wrist, and Clara finds she can’t concentrate, not with the way his fingers are slipping beneath the sleeve of her coat and skimming over her skin and how there’s something like a shiver starting down her spine. She’s still facing her book, but her eyes flutter shut, and she tries to decipher what exactly it is that he’s drawing out on her wrist.

At first it feels like maybe he’s mapping something, some invisible, ethereal, navigational chart that only he can see, or sketching out stars on her skin. But then she feels the pad of his thumb softly sweeping something smaller and circular over her, and it feels less like a constellation string and more like cursive, making Clara think that maybe what he’s doing is writing invisible words.

“What language is that?” Clara finally asks, and though there’s curiosity in her voice, her sentence comes out hushed, barely above a whisper. This moment is something soft, something fragile, and Clara’s afraid that simply speaking will shatter it.

The Doctor’s lips turn down in a frown, her words pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the world, and then he looks down at how their hands are intertwined in-between them and he blinks in surprise, his thumb brushing over her wrist once more before stopping, coming to rest right above her pulse-point. ”Sorry,” he says, confused and contrite. “Head in the clouds. Hadn’t realized.”

“It’s fine,” Clara answers, and she knows from where his fingers press, he can feel the fast, fluttering melody of her heartbeat, and she hopes he hasn't guessed that he’s the reason behind it. “Just tell me what it is.”

“It’s Gallifreyan,” he answers quietly. “A language so ancient it’s older than half the stars, and every bit as beautiful.”

Clara’s lips curve up at the corners, and her eyes flicker up to his.

“Show me,” she says.

He shrugs, “No pen and paper. No chalk either. Not even a tiny, table-top zen garden with a tiny rake to write in the sand with. This cabin is surprisingly lacking in resources.”

“Come on, Doctor,” Clara says, and she tugs him closer and then holds out her hand, palm up. “Just show me how you write it, I’d like to see.”

The Doctor hesitates, looking torn, but then, ever so slowly, his hand comes forward, and she watches as his finger moves in delicate, intricate curves, lightly tracing words onto her palm.

“What does that mean?” Clara asks, wondering what he’s spelled across her skin. He laughs, ducks his head, and says:

“It means Impossible Girl.” # Clara’s aware that they’re sitting on a bunk and that there’s a pillow somewhere behind her, but she can’t be bothered to look for it, not when there’s a perfectly good Time Lord next to her to lean against instead. The aforementioned Time Lord is finally sitting contented and still, having taken over her book, the discussion of ancient Russian history fascinating him much more than it did her (likely, Clara thinks, because he was actually there), so she scoots over, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Tired,” she says, yawning.

“Staring at a wall all day can be draining,” he says wisely.

“What about you? You don’t look tired at all.”

“I don’t sleep,” he says, turning another page of his book.

“Not ever?” Clara asks, not too sleepy to not be skeptical.

“Well, fine. Sometimes,” he amends. “I sleep sometimes.”

“Like when?”

“Like when people aren’t pestering me,” he says, and Clara swats his arm. ”I don’t need that much sleep, Time Lord biology is -“

“Superior in every way, yes, you've mentioned that.”

He looks up from his book and glances down at her, “Do you need the bunk? I can stand.” Clara makes a small noise of disagreement. The smooth cotton of his shirt feels soft against her cheek, and he’s much more comfortable than she ever would have guessed, what with his gangly, flailing limbs.

Besides, he’d promised her Vegas and landed her here instead. The least he could do was sit still and be a pillow. “Don’t move,” she says, curling in against him.

“Clara,” he says lightly, and there’s amusement and terror and terrible fondness in his eyes as he watches her nuzzle her face against his waistcoat. “I don’t think -“

But he’s too late, Clara’s already gotten comfortable and is nestled into his side, holding him in place and firmly shutting her eyes.

“All right, you can stay,” he says, as if he actually has a choice in the matter. “But it’s not happening again. I’m no one’s personal pillow.” “More like a personal space heater,” Clara mumbles saucily, half-asleep already.

”Watch it,” he warns, trying his very best to sound scolding and indignant, but Clara merely hums contentedly in response.

And as the soft tendrils of sleep overtake her, she feels his fingers gently running through her hair, and with both laughter and affection in his voice, he whispers, “Sleep well, Impossible Girl.”

#

Later, when Clara wakes up and rubs the sleep from her eyes, she finds her head‘s still curved against the crook of his neck, and her hand’s moved to rest right in the middle of his chest, in the center space between his two hearts, and she can feel their tandem tempo, beating out a rhythm beneath her fingers.

And the Doctor, well, he’s sleeping from what Clara can tell. His eyes are shut and he’s slumped over, half-sitting, half-sinking against the wall, and his left arm’s looped around her shoulders.

One side of Clara’s lips twitch up into a smile, and as if he can somehow sense her rising laughter, the Doctor wakes up, and he opens one eye, glancing at her with sleepy suspicion.

“Time Lords don’t sleep, hmm?” Clara can’t resist saying. “Superior biology.”

“Got bored,” he grouses, sitting and shifting them up. “There was nothing to do, not with you curled up on me like some sort of sleepy, clingy cat. Incredibly boring. Completely boring. Body shut down as a defense mechanism against the lack of mental stimuli, that’s what it was.”

Clara nods solemnly, “Of course.”

“Shut up,” he grumps, but she swears she sees a hint of pale pink on his cheeks.

#

They’ve just gotten news that they’re surfacing and that they’ll soon be back with the TARDIS, and giddy with excitement, the Doctor takes out a giant, old map he’s found tucked under the bunk and tacks it up, spreading its paper green mountains and blue paper seas over the dull grey metal wall.

“Close your eyes, Clara,” he says, a delighted grin on his face, and when she does, she feels his hands wrap around her shoulders, and she laughs as he gently spins her in place.

“It’ll be just like pin the tail on the donkey, except better. Because any place your hand lands on the map, we’ll go,” he says, offering her the world as he twirls her around. “North or South, East or West, anywhere and everywhere, whenever you want.”

Finally, he stops spinning, positioning Clara in what she assumes is the space in front of the map. With her eyes still shut, she feels him lean down over her shoulder, and there’s a shiver that goes down her spine as his face falls next to her ear and he whispers, “All you have to do is point.”

So Clara points, her hand connecting with paper, and when she opens them, she finds the pad of her finger directly over a country.

“Peru,” she says, reading what she’s landed on and smiling.

“Peru,”  he echoes excitedly. “Good choice, Clara. Amazon rainforests and Andes Mountains and ancient Incan cities. Frogs and fog oases and cactuses and cloud-forest slopes.” And then he turns to her, his eyes glittering as he grins and says, “How would you like to be beside Hiram Bingham when he discovers Machu Picchu?”

And Clara grins back, because there’s a whole wide world waiting for them outside of this sub, and adventure’s only a breath away, and how lucky is she, to have this magic, mad, impossible man offering her the universe in the palm of his hand?

So, laughing, she reaches out for his hand and says, “Doctor, any point in time will do, as long as it’s with you.”

And as his fingers close around hers, he says:

“Likewise, Clara Oswald, likewise.”

And she knows it’s true.

#doctor who #whouffle #eleventh doctor #clara oswald #souffez #eleven x clara #clara x eleven #whouffle fanfic #whouffle fic #eleventh doctor x clara #clara x eleventh doctor #11th doctor #whouffle fanfiction #cold war #the doctor x clara #clara x the doctor #doctor who fanfic #11 x clara #clara x 11 #my fic

[haro-whumps]

Hi I’m the first ren anon and I was wondering if you could tell me like the specific things ren does that are Not Okay? If you don’t want to that’s totally fine I’m just trying to take ren anon #2’s advice and figure out which behaviors are Bad Ones. I also don’t have insurance , so no therapy for me lol 👌😎

RIP but also I feel that. And sure! I’ll just sorta go through as we see it happen. Under cut cause this is LONG

--Possessive and controlling of Soren’s body. They blow up when he alters his appearance without their permission and against their preferences

--Desires ownership of friends, actual literal ownership.

--” But if you feel like you need to, I won’t mind if you rough him up a little during training. It might make him even more grateful to be owned by me, haha! “ Wishes ill on friend specifically so that they can play the hero, perfectly fine with putting Soren’s well-being at risk in order to emotionally manipulate him into liking them more and seeing them in a better light

--” He could’ve always come crawling back to Ren! They would have forgiven him for acting unreasonable, just because they got mad. “ Victim blaming, claiming that SOREN should be the one apologizing to THEM

-- “ They tugged the instructions off his chest, pulling at the wrong angle so the adhesive would pull at the skin. Just a little tug, just a little poke at their boy, nothing mean, no, they could never be mean to Soren. “ “ Soren cried out sharply with the next slap, backhanded and hard, his body knocked into the rim of the box he was still sitting in. “ Ren is genuinely delighted by causing Soren pain and discomfort, but internally justifies it to themself as nothing “too mean”

--” “Testing responsiveness, mm?” Ren murmured aloud, as though to themself, but entirely for Soren’s sake. “ Saying things specifically because they know it’ll distress Soren

-- “Fragile thing,” Ren murmured, petting his pretty hair, “Delicate little thing, oh, it’s alright now, it’s alright. You’re so delicate, so delicate.” Ren hurts Soren, but then follows it up by providing comfort and affection, which “overrides” the pain that they themself caused. Also, this is more subtle victim blaming, claiming that it’s SOREN’S fault that he’s in pain from the slap because he’s delicate and fragile, instead of, yknow, being in pain because Ren slapped him

--”Master–”They slammed him to the floor, hand gripping hard over his mouth, “ Ren reacts VIOLENTLY to small mistakes. Soren DIDN’T know any better in this situation, but still Ren hurts him for the accident.

--Also just in general Ren has a NASTY, hair-trigger temper that manifests in violent ways, but they self-justify once again

--” “Now you are Soren,” they said affectionately, bestowing the name like a gift, which it was. “ Ren’s ego is MASSIVE. We see throughout the series that Ren has a RIDICULOUS god-complex and believes everything they say and do is a gift bestowed upon the people around them

--as teens they coerced him into skinny dipping, which was a violation of his boundaries but they bulldozed past them because what they wanted took greater importance in Ren’s mind than Soren’s mental/emotional well-being

--Possessive, again, Ren is so possessive, reacting violently to the thought that anyone else would even touch Soren, because they see Soren as their property and their property alone. Like really there’s a reason #possessive behavior is on p much every single post in that story

--They photograph and videotape Soren without his knowledge or consent (not that his consent is particularly meaningful in this situation), which is a violation of boundaries and privacy

Like

A serious violation

Soren is under CONSTANT surveillance and he doesn’t know it (thank god, his anxiety could turn horrific if he did, if he were less the person (doll) that he is now) and that is Not Good

“ knowing that they were seeing him naked while he didn’t know that sent a thrill up their spine “ And of course Ren gets off on that violation, too

--They frequently compare Soren to birds (and later, 02 to dogs) which is dehumanizing as shit

--” tugging at the bottom of it with a sudden spike in anxiety.“Um, Exalted?”“Yes sweetheart?”“Do I, get to wear, maybe underwear, or pants, with this?”Ren laughed, squishing his freckled cheeks. “Of course not you silly goose!” “ Ren has a TOTAL disregard for Soren’s actual comfort, if what makes him uncomfortable is something that Ren wants

--“You will never,” Ren pet the hair back from one side of his face, “ever,” they pet the other side, “belong to anyone but me. You’re mine, Soren, forever, forever and ever. No one else will ever touch you, no one else will ever get you, you’re never leaving this house unless it’s on my leash.”Soren hiccupped as he smiled up at them, pressing into their palms, cheeks tearstained and ruddy.“Never, Soren,” Ren soothed, “You’ll never leave me.” Again we see Ren “comforting” Soren, but like, they’re just taking the opportunity Soren’s nightmare has provided to further manipulate him into loving and being dependent on them while securing their own possessive behaviors

--When Ren thinks Soren’s going to cut his hair, they LOSE it, screaming and hurting him, and then make him clean up the mess claiming that he was the one to make it. Super duper victim blaming galore.

--Selecting Soren’s hobbies for him. Soren may like dancing and playing the harp, but he sure as hell didn’t get to choose to do so

--Conditioning Soren to treat his collar like a lifeline and as physical proof that he is owned, which Ren manipulates into being Soren’s primary comfort.

--Drugging Soren without his knowledge or consent

--Fucking Soren, who has no actual ability to tell them no or tell them to stop if they do something he doesn’t like

--letting other people photograph him without him having any say in it, and profiting off of Soren’s physical appearance and actions.

--” pulled Soren in by the hair so hard that he yelped. But it was just because Ren was excited, so it didn’t count as actually hurting him. “ Ren has conditioned Soren to think that nothing they do “counts” as hurting him, and Soren is willing to bend over backwards to make excuses for Ren’s actions 

--” “Is that what they told you?” Ren said derisively, snorting a little. Soren blinked, and then melted. “ GASLIGHTING. Anything that doesn’t fits Ren’s narrative, they’ll manipulate. They make Soren think he’s gullible for believing other peoples “lies,” make him think he’s got a shitty memory (which, admittedly, given the universe this takes place in it’s true, but it’s still gaslighting behavior), will do anything to make Soren question his own sanity or intelligence or understanding as long as Ren gets off scott-free

--” Ren needed to reward Soren. So brave, so useful. “ Places value on their friends’ “usefulness”

--” they glanced in their rear view mirror and saw a particularly delicious sight.Soren’s mother “ They delight in the emotional distress of others, ESPECIALLY when the other people in question aren’t anybody Ren has mentally labeled as “theirs”

--They twist chaining Soren to the bed into a “reward”

--They’re willing to discard their friends at whim, as soon as it stops being convenient or entertaining for them. Also, they’re perfectly willing to get their friends arrested if it’ll suit their own ends. ALSO they isolate Lydia from her social circle and compound on her depression, making her see them as a shining light in a darkness that they, once again, caused, gaslight the fuck out of her, and have every intention of holding “sparing her” over her head

-- They punish Soren for shit that isn’t even his fault and use it as an opportunity to psychologically manipulate him further

--All of the physical abuse Ren subjects 02 to, all of the emotional manipulation, the dehumanization and degredation, plus forcing 02 to be a vouyer to Soren and Ren’s sexual acts while neither of them had any real way to consent

And that about does it! I tried not to double up on too many points, so if you go through you’ll find an instance of something in just about every paragraph, but yeah, Ren’s a nasty, nasty enby.

I love to write them but man! They are bad...

#ren #bbu #meta #abuse #answers #thanks! #Anonymous

[zen3to5]

J/H 6-15: Who Are You

And now we come to the Pam Burkhart arc...

Ooh boy.

Pam herself doesn't have much to do with what I don't like about her run of episodes, except that an arc that you would think would be about Jackie's conflict with her mom devolves into an unfocused mess loosely built around Bob and Pam dating. While I couldn't - and didn't want to fully exorcise that plot point, I did try throughout this run of episodes to refocus the story on Jackie's conflict. And, of course, have Hyde there for her too...

(We assume that, in this timeline, 6-03 to 6-14 play out just as we know them.)

FF.Net AO3

***

SHOW TITLE   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   A pleasant, cool afternoon. ERIC sits on the back of the Vista Cruiser, watching as HYDE and JACKIE play basketball.   DONNA comes out from the kitchen. Eric hops down, crosses to meet her.   ERIC: Oh, hey, Donna. Um, about this little celibacy kick we're on - does that cover quickies? 'Cause I could be really quick.   DONNA: Well, that's why I call you "the Flash."   ERIC: That's why you call me “the Flash? I thought it was 'cause I was flashy, like an entertainer. Come on, one little one. You can even watch TV.   DONNA: Eric, we agreed to hold off until the wedding. It's cleansing.   ERIC: No, Donna, giving up cigarettes is cleansing. Giving up sex is reckless and irresponsible, and I think it might cause cancer.   No dice for Eric; Donna just laughs his pleas off.   BOB comes up the drive, crosses to Jackie.   BOB: Hey, Jackie. I know since you moved in, we agreed to give each other messages as soon as possible, and in the spirit of that, your mom called last Tuesday.   JACKIE: What? No, she couldn't call. She's in Mexico. They don't have phones there.   DONNA: Uh, yeah, they do.   JACKIE: Why would we give them phones? (to Bob) Look, I don’t have anything to say to my mom. She ditched me, and that’s all I need to know.   ERIC: Oh, man, that's... that’s really sad. It's, like, a mother and daughter divided. (to Donna) So, hey, what about some second base action?   BOB: (to Eric) What did I tell you about talking about the bases, Flash?   Eric turns to Donna, aghast.   ERIC: Donna!   DONNA: (shrugs) He doesn't know why.   She exits down the driveway.   BOB: Jackie, you should cut your mom a break. I think she's charming.   JACKIE: If she calls again, just tell her I don't want to see her.   BOB: Well, that's too bad, 'cause I just picked her up from the airport.   Up the driveway struts PAM BURKHART, blonde, tanned, and beaming.   PAM: And here I am.   JACKIE: Mom!   PAM: Oh, I love making an entrance. (to Bob) Be a dear and go watch my luggage.   BOB: Really? Thanks.   Giggling, Bob hurries down the drive.   JACKIE: (to Pam) What are you doing here?   ERIC: Who cares?   He pushes past Jackie to shake Pam’s hand.   ERIC (cont’d): Welcome to my driveway, pretty lady. I'm Eric Forman. Remember me? Big fan.   PAM: Oh, right. My toy poodle Snowball almost killed you when you were six.   ERIC: I was 13, but, yeah.   A breathless KELSO and FEZ come racing up the driveway to Pam’s side.   KELSO: Mrs. Burkhart! I thought I saw gorgeous, flowing hair on bronze shoulders. And I wasn't near a mirror, so I knew it had to be you.   FEZ: And I just run where Kelso runs.   PAM: Well, thank you, Michael. You always did have a discerning eye.   KELSO: Oh, I’ve got a lot more body parts going for me than that. Just ask your daughter.   Hyde crosses to frog him in the arm.   KELSO (cont’d): OW! (to Pam) You remember Hyde? He’s Jackie’s new boyfriend. Just don’t mention I did it with her first.   Hyde frogs him again. Kelso cries, pulls Fez between them as a shield.   PAM: (to Hyde) Didn’t you rob our house?   HYDE: Well, I was in there a few times at night, but I never took anything.   JACKIE: Mom, why are you back?   PAM: It got rainy in Cabo, so I hopped on a plane.   FEZ: (to Hyde) I wish I was a plane. Then she could hop on me. And by “hop on me,” I mean –   HYDE: Yeah, yeah, we got it, Fez.   JACKIE: (to Pam) Wait, let me guess: "rainy in Cabo" is Spanish for "my rich pilot boyfriend ran out of money."   PAM: Don't be silly. I don't know any Spanish. Except for gracias and mas tequila. I just missed you.   JACKIE: Well, I didn't miss you.   She stomps her foot and runs off to the back of the house.   HYDE: And there's the stomp and cry. (to the guys) See you guys tomorrow.   He hurries after Jackie. The rest of the guys move closer to Pam.   KELSO: Mrs. Burkhart, I know you and Jackie are working through some difficult stuff, but may I just say, nice tan?   ERIC: Yeah, it really makes everything pop.   FEZ: Yeah, I'm popping a little right now.   For reasons best known to Pam, she seems charmed by that, even as Eric and Kelso recoil.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. HYDE’S BEDROOM – DAY   Hyde’s room isn’t quite what Jackie made it in 6-11 (“I Can See For Miles”) – the pink and the unicorns are gone – but the twinkle lights, scented candles, floral curtains and furniture, and goose down duvet all remain. Hyde, sans shades, lies in his bed, with Jackie in his arms and her head on his shoulder. Jackie holds SCHATZI in her arms.   JACKIE: God, I cannot believe my mom. Why did she have to go all the way to Mexico to drink all day? A good mom stays at home and drinks, like Mrs. Forman with her wine. And I’m supposed to believe she came back after all this time for me? The last time I heard from her was a postcard three months ago that just said “good afternoon from Cancun.” And it wasn’t a good afternoon. It was 8 AM when I got it!   HYDE: My dad tried to get back in touch with me once. He left a six-pack on my car.   JACKIE: How did you know it was your dad?   HYDE: He was passed out on the hood.   JACKIE: (shakes her head) You know what the worst part is?   HYDE: That you feel like you should give her another chance ‘cause she’s your mom, even though you know she’ll probably just screw you over again.   Jackie looks up at his face. He looks down at her, gives her a very small smile. They both know: he’s been in her shoes. Jackie moans and buries her face into Hyde’s shoulder.   The muffled sounds of a clock chiming catch them both by surprise. Hyde reaches up to the dresser drawer above them, slides it open, and takes out a small, ornate clock. He presents it to Jackie, who takes it.   JACKIE: This is the clock from the mantle in my dad’s old office.   HYDE: Yeah, I lied before. I took a few things when I was in your house.   He takes the clock back, sets it on the floor, and holds Jackie a little tighter as she cuddles up against him and Schatzi licks her nose.   CUT TO:   INT. PINCIOTTI KITCHEN – DAY   Concurrent with the previous scene. Pam, Bob, and Donna sit around the kitchen table as Pam relates her travels.   PAM: And then we flew down to Tijuana. I shouldn’t speak too much about our time there, but let’s just say that Escobar was intimately acquainted with the local bar scene.   She chuckles and looks around the house.   PAM (cont’d): So, this is where my Jackie has been staying? Well, I can’t speak for the rest of the house, but this kitchen is just so... kitschy. (laughs) (to Bob) It was so good of you to take her in. I feel just awful about how things went. That was quite the trial.   DONNA: Yeah. I mean, you being gone and her dad going to prison – Jackie’s been through a lot.   PAM: No, I mean her father’s arrest. It was quite the trial. I wasn’t there, of course, but my girlfriends in the Ladies of Point Place filled me in. It sounded exhausting.   She sighs and fans herself as Donna and Bob share a look.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   Concurrent with the previous two scenes. Fez and Kelso sit on the couch, perusing a pamphlet in Kelso’s hands.   KELSO: Whoa, check out this new police academy they're sending me to in Waukegan. It's got its own pool. Oh, man, if I'd have known it was gonna be this nice, I'd have burned down the old one a lot sooner.   FEZ: Kelso, I'm really going to miss you. Who's gonna take my lunch money and tease me and pull down my pants in front of girls?   KELSO: Hey, say something about Jackie’s boobs around Hyde, and he’ll do more than that, buddy.   Eric enters from the basement door, his hands full of bottle rockets.   ERIC: Hey, since Donna cut me off, I took the money that I would have spent on a romantic dinner for two and bought me a gross of bottle rockets. Take that, Pinciotti!   Kelso jumps up and grabs the rockets.   KELSO: Bottle rockets, all right! Fez, start running.   Fez jumps to his feet, but Eric catches him by the arm before he makes it to the door.   ERIC: No, wait. I got a better idea. (to Fez) We’re driving Kelso to the police academy, right? After we drop him off, let's stop at the dairy farm, scare the hell out of some cows. I love cows. They're the one animal I can run faster than.   KELSO: No, no, let's go before you drop me off. That big spotted one needs an attitude adjustment.   ERIC: No, man, it's gotta be at night. We’ve launched so much stuff at those cows during the day, I swear, they recognize the Vista Cruiser.   Kelso drops back down on the couch and pouts.   KELSO: I can't believe you guys are going without me.   FEZ: (to Eric) Those cows will never know what hit them. And even after it hits them, they still won't know, because they're cows.   He gains a faraway look in his eye as Eric takes back the rockets.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   The Formans enjoy a rare moment of quiet. KITTY reads at the kitchen table as RED takes a beer from the fridge.   Kitty flips her magazine down and looks up at Red.   KITTY: Why don't we ever have tea?   RED: Well, this sounds like the beginning of a wonderful argument. Like the “stuffing versus mashed potatoes” fight that turned into “why don't I ever take you on vacation.”   KITTY: Why don't you ever take me on vacation?   RED: Oh, crap.   The patio door slides open, and Donna enters.   DONNA: Um, have you guys seen Jackie anywhere?   RED: Well, let’s see... my ears aren’t bleeding from listening to a four-hour story about a trip to the hair salon. So, no.   KITTY: Now be nice, Red. Jackie’s mom finally came home from her cultural tour of Mexico's many fine bars and cantinas. (laughs)   DONNA: Yeah, Jackie’s really upset. Her mom tried to talk to her earlier and she just stormed off.   KITTY: Well, that’s no good. Those two need to sit down and work this out. (taps the table) They can do it here - with tea. We'll have tea!   RED: No! Why does this always happen here? We're in a recession. There are vacant lots all over the place.   KITTY: Well, you can go stand in a vacant lot. We're having a tea party. With crumpets! I'll find out what they are, and we will have them.   CUT TO:   INT. KELSO’S BEDROOM – EVENING   Later in the day. Kelso lies on his bed, reading a Spider-Man comic book. Eric and Fez enter. They look around and notice a distinct lack of packed bags.   ERIC: Kelso, you’re not packed? You’ve only got one more day before you leave for the police academy.   FEZ: Don’t forget to pack gasoline and matches so you can burn that one down too.   He and Eric laugh. Kelso frowns, flips around to sit against his pillow.   KELSO: I don't need gasoline to burn stuff down. All I need is these two hands and a lack of adult supervision. Anyway, I'm not going. I decided I didn't want to be a cop.   ERIC: But, Kelso, I thought you wanted to impress the mother of your child and give your life a purpose... and pull over girls for speeding while foxy.   KELSO: No, I got my reasons. I mean, I don't want to leave when things are going so good for me and Brooke. Plus, blue isn't a very good color for me.   FEZ: What, are you crazy? You take blue to a whole new level.   Kelso shrugs, bends down to pull on his shoes.   KELSO: All right, let's go blast some cows.   ERIC: Whoa. All you talk about is being a cop. You haven't focused on anything this hard since you thought you heard your name on Led Zeppelin II.   KELSO: It's in there. In "Whole Lotta Love," he clearly sings "Kelso lotta love."   FEZ: Kelso, we're not gonna let you throw your life away.   ERIC: Yeah, man. We’re gonna make sure you become a cop. Now, I’ll have the car ready tomorrow, bright and early. (to Fez) You help him pack.   He starts for the door.   KELSO: Why aren’t you helping?   ERIC: My mom’s having a tea party.   Fez and Kelso start to laugh. Eric smiles, nods.   ERIC (cont’d): Yeah. Pam’ll be there.   He waves an airy salute and strolls out of the room as the smiles fall from Fez and Kelso’s faces.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – EVENING   The tea party is impending. Red sits in the middle of the couch, frowning, while Donna sits at the piano.   Kitty enters from the kitchen with an elaborate tea tray set and puts it down in front of Red on the coffee table.   KITTY: Okay, here, Red, try this tea. It'll make you feel British. (doing English accent) “Mum's the word, guvnor.” (laughs)   RED: Kitty, this is America. We bomb countries that drink tea.   KITTY: Well, that's because coffee keeps us awake all night, and we wake up in such a bad mood, we have to bomb someone.   Jackie and Hyde enter from the kitchen. Between the tea set and everyone’s attention snapping their way, it’s not hard to realize something’s up.   HYDE: What’s going on?   Jackie’s eyes fall on the tea tray.   JACKIE: (gasps) Are you throwing me a tea party?   KITTY: Sort of. (laughs) We have Earl Gray, and Chamomile, and your mother’s coming over, and English Breakfast.   JACKIE: What?   DONNA: Yeah, Jackie. My dad’s bringing her over any minute.   Jackie glares at Donna and Kitty. Without looking away from them, she throws her hand back behind her. Hyde takes it, and she lets him lead her to the door. Kitty hurries to block their way.   KITTY: No, no, no. Jackie, you need to sit down with your mom and talk about what happened.   JACKIE: Mrs. Forman, I can’t even look my mom in the eye. I mean, I never thought I’d say this, but there comes a point when a person is too tan.   She and Hyde try to get around Kitty, but she moves to block them again.   KITTY: No, Jackie –   The doorbell rings.   KITTY (cont’d): (to Jackie) Ooh, I bet that’s your mom now. (to Red) Red, get the door. (to Jackie) Just – just try the tea.   Jackie gives up and Hyde follows her lead; they let Kitty herd them over to the couch as Red gets up and crosses to Donna.   RED: How did my house become the one all these things happen in? This should be at your house. Bob likes company.   He doesn’t wait for an answer but goes to the door. In step Bob and Pam.   PAM: Hi, Red. I’m Pam Burkhart. I believe you knew my husband.   RED: Well, if by “knew” you mean “got screwed over by him and his crooked city council,” then yes.   He steps aside, lets Pam and Bob in. Jackie and Hyde stand, as if to leave, but Kitty moves between them and the way to the kitchen door.   PAM: (to Kitty) You made tea. Oh, I love tea.   BOB: So do I.   RED: Of course you do, Bob.   PAM: (to Jackie) Hi, honey.   JACKIE: Hi. And by "hi," I mean “not hi,” because I'm not talking to you, even though I'm talking now. So, I'm just gonna stop talking, starting now. Oh! Dang it. Starting now. And now. Shoot! Starting –   HYDE: Yeah, yeah, they got it, Jaq.   He helps her sit back down on the couch. Pam sits on the other side of her.   PAM: This is awkward. (beat) Why don't I tell a story about something charming I did in Mexico?   Eric rushes in from upstairs, rounds the coffee table, and throws himself into Red’s chair.   ERIC: (breathless) I'd love to hear it.   PAM: There was this woman on a beach in Cozumel, and normally, I wouldn't talk to someone who had such bad skin, but she was selling the cutest hair clips... (takes them from her purse) So, here.   She hands the bag of hair clips to Jackie.   JACKIE: You know, I'd tell you that this doesn't fix anything, but I'm not talking to you. Oh, shoot! Starting now!   She throws the bag across the room. Donna catches the bag and looks it over.   DONNA: Damn, these are cute.   PAM: Look, Jackie, when your father got into trouble, I panicked. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. I know that you've got hostile feelings towards me, but I'm your mother, and I love you. And I promise I'll never leave you again.   BOB: I believe her.   ERIC: Me, too.   Kitty, Red, and Hyde all roll their eyes.   JACKIE: Mom, a good time to tell me you loved me was the day Daddy went to prison, not two months later on a postcard from La Cantina Cucaracha in Guadalajara.   She stands and storms past Kitty into the kitchen. Immediately, she sticks her head back into the living room.   JACKIE (cont’d): Starting now!   And with that, she leaves for good.   Hyde also stands, crosses to Kitty.   HYDE: Mrs. Forman, I hate saying this, ‘cause you usually know what to do, but stop helping with our parents!   He follows Jackie into the kitchen.   Donna holds up the bag of hair clips.   DONNA: Mrs. Burkhart, if Jackie seriously doesn't want these, can I have them?   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – EVENING   The aftermath of the tea party. Kitty packs up her tea tray as Red stands by, looking more than a little smug. Donna sits on the couch, examining her new hair clips.   RED: Well, whaddya know? A sissy, pansy-ass tea party just couldn’t bring Jackie and her ditzy lush of a mother together. If only we knew someone who could see that these things never work out. Well, I guess that’s just another crazy dream.   KITTY: All right, mister. (pushes tea tray into his hands) Just for that, you can put all this away.   Red rolls his eyes but does as he’s told, exits into the kitchen with the tray. Kitty drops down onto the couch next to Donna.   KITTY (cont’d): Oh, maybe he’s right. Maybe we should leave this between Jackie and her mom.   DONNA: No, Mrs. Forman, if Jackie won’t even listen to her mom, we need to help them patch things up. Moms and daughters should get along, even if one of them’s a little ditzy or a little... Tequila-y.   Kitty smiles. She knows why this matters to Donna.   KITTY: Have you heard from Midge since you came back from California?   DONNA: A few times. Not a lot.   Kitty pats Donna’s knee.   KITTY: Well, you’re eighteen now, so what do you say you join me at the home bar for a nice Manhattan?   She laughs, leads Donna over to the drinks.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING   Concurrent with the previous scene from Red’s exit.   Red sets the tea tray down on the island. Jackie and Hyde come up from the basement, Hyde carrying Schatzi.   JACKIE: Oh, Mr. Forman, I don’t know what to do!   She rushes over and hugs him around the chest. Red throws his hands up, glares at Hyde.   RED: This again? Why the hell aren’t you handling this? You’re right there!   Hyde can only shrug in reply as Jackie refuses to let Red go.   BUMPER   INT. KELSO’S BEDROOM – DAY   The next morning. The sheets are pulled up all the way to the headboard over the mass in the bed.   Eric, knocking even as he opens the door, strolls in with Fez behind.   ERIC: (to Kelso) Hey, come on, buddy. Time to go to cop school.   He pulls the sheets back and finds Kelso’s pillows lined up as a decoy.   ERIC (cont’d): I don't believe this.   FEZ: I know. King-size pillows on a twin-size bed? Why didn't I think of that?   ERIC: Man, he just split on us.   Their eyes are drawn to the closet as a rustling and banging sound leaks out from behind the door.   KELSO (v.o.): Ow!   Eric and Fez share a look.   ERIC: (flat) Yeah, he's definitely gone. I guess we'll just leave then.   In lockstep, he and Fez stomp their feet in place. Fez shuts the door, hard enough for the CLICK to clearly register.   The closet door opens and out steps Kelso. He finds Eric and Fez waiting for him, arms crossed.   KELSO: Oh, that's not fair. You guys made leaving sounds.   ERIC: Kelso, enough kidding around. We’ve got all your bags packed. Let’s go.   Kelso makes a show of heaving a sigh. Dragging his feet, he follows Eric and Fez until they reach...   INT. KELSO HALLWAY – DAY   ... Where he promptly runs turns around and runs down the opposite end of the hall.   CUT TO:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – DAY   The girls are both out. The room is seemingly empty until Eric and Fez enter. They immediately move to the closet and throw it open, where they find Kelso crouched down on the floor.   KELSO: That’s not fair either. You didn’t even look anywhere else.   Eric notices that Kelso’s hands are closed around something.   ERIC: Kelso, is that Donna’s underwear?   Kelso doesn’t meet Eric’s eyes. He tosses the panties at Eric, springs out past him and Fez, and shoots out of the room.   CUT TO:   INT. HYDE’S BEDROOM – DAY   Hyde and Jackie are cuddling together on the bed, with Schatzi seated on the edge. They seem ready to doze off when a rustling sound comes from behind the curtain. Jackie and Hyde look over towards it.   JACKIE: Fez?   KELSO (v.o.): (doing Fez) “Yes. This is Fez. Don’t mind me. I am just here doing ‘Fez’ things.”   Hyde and Jackie share a look.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Eric and Fez lean against the Vista Cruiser. Eric has Donna’s panties in his hands.   ERIC: Damn. Getting these back from Kelso is the closest thing to action I’ve had since that marriage counseling session. I can’t believe how seriously Donna’s taking this celibacy thing. Fez, how do you cope with not getting any?   FEZ: I think you know how I cope. When you don’t see me, I’m coping.   Hyde comes around from the back of the house, dragging a sputtering, gasping Kelso by his collar.   HYDE: (to Eric) Hey. You missing one brain-dead cop-in-training?   He throws Kelso out in front of him. Kelso staggers, spins around, gets upright.   KELSO: (to Hyde) A simple “get out of my room, please” would have worked just as well.   ERIC: (to Kelso) Okay, just get in the car.   KELSO: You know, you guys can take me to the academy, but as soon as you leave, I’m gone.   ERIC: All right, Kelso, that’s it. I haven’t had sex in weeks. Fez is in a drought not seen since the Great Dust Bowl. We are tightly wound. So you’d better tell us what your real problem is, or we’re gonna freakin’ throttle you!   FEZ: (to Kelso) I will tear you apart like a lion.   KELSO: Okay, look, I don't want to tell you guys, because I'm afraid you're gonna make fun of me.   HYDE: Oh, Kelso - of course we're gonna make fun of you.   KELSO: All right, fine. You know what? It's like I'm going to a new school, okay? And I'm worried that I'm not gonna be able to make friends. First off, I'm so much better looking than everyone else. The only reason you guys are friends with me is 'cause you met me before I blossomed.   HYDE: Man, you should be worried about something that could actually happen, like handcuffing yourself to a horse.   ERIC: Look, Kelso, here's the thing - you've stolen my stuff, and you've burned my stuff... you've even groped my stuff. But I still hang out with you because you are a great guy. Come on - you're Michael Kelso, right? You're bulletproof.   Kelso lets the words sink in. Slowly, he smiles and nods.   KELSO: Dammit, you're right. I am bulletproof. All right - let's get going!   ERIC: All right!   He, Kelso, and Fez move to pile into the Vista Cruiser as Hyde heads back inside.   Eric takes Kelso by the arm and pulls him aside.   ERIC: Hey, by the way – um, you're not actually bulletproof.   He claps Kelso on the shoulder and lets him think about that as he gets behind the wheel.   BUMPER   INT. PINCIOTTI KITCHEN – DAY   Later that afternoon. Donna, Jackie, and Hyde all sit around the kitchen table. Jackie is holding on tight to Hyde’s hand with both of hers.   DONNA: Jackie, just go see your mom.   JACKIE: Why should I? She’s only here ‘til she finds a new meal ticket.   DONNA: Jackie, she chose you over golden sunsets, frozen margaritas... man, why aren't we down there?   JACKIE: Donna, you don't get her, because you'll never understand the intoxicating quality of getting anything you want with your looks.   She lets go of Hyde, stands, and exits out into the yard.   DONNA: (to Hyde) Okay, that girl does not know how to accept help. “You’re not pretty enough to understand, Donna.” “I’m too cool to live with you, Donna.” “You must be colorblind if you think that’s a good outfit, Donna.” You try acting that way when my uncle Carmine offers to do you a favor, see what happens.   HYDE: Man, none of you are helping.   He stands, crosses to the island. Donna follows.   DONNA: What do you mean?   HYDE: You all keep trying to make Jackie sit down and work things out with her mom, all Partridge Family, when you don’t even get what she’s going through.   DONNA: Of course I get it. Her mom left. It happened to me, too.   HYDE: Donna, your mom told you she was leaving, and she knew you still had your dad. Jackie found out her mom wasn’t coming back two months after her dad went to prison from a postcard sent from a nudie beach in Acapulco.   DONNA: Okay, well... why would she come back to the town her daughter’s living in if all she wants is a meal ticket?   HYDE: When my parents came back into town, I was the meal ticket.   DONNA: Fine, whatever! Look, Jackie’s mother is a lovely woman. I still say she came back to be with her daughter, not to find some lonely rich guy.   The kitchen door swings open. Bob and Pam lean inside.   BOB: Donna, Pam and I are gonna catch a movie.   PAM: It’s my first American date in months!   Giggling, they lean back out.   DONNA: (to Hyde) Jackie’s mother is a gold-digging tramp!   Hyde frowns at her as Donna slams a palm down on the island.   CUT TO:   EXT. POLICE ACADEMY – NIGHT   The police academy of Waukegan, a stately training facility for Wisconsin’s finest. The courtyard is filled with cadets and officers.   The Vista Cruiser is pulled just outside the main entrance. Fez and Eric sit on the back as Kelso shakes their hands one at a time.   KELSO: Okay, I'm all set. So, here I go.   ERIC: Kelso, you're gonna do great. But, hey, just in case, I packed some extra cookies in your lunch to help you make friends.   He hands him a paper lunch bag.   FEZ: Oh, um... I ate the cookies. Try to find a friend who likes carrots.   KELSO: Okay. Well... guess this is it. Hey, give those cows hell, boys.   Slowly, he makes his way into the academy. Every few steps, he stops and looks over his shoulder, but he presses on.   Just as he’s about to reach the center of the courtyard, Eric hops off the back of the Vista Cruiser and starts waving.   ERIC: Hey, Kelso, I love you!   The other cops all turn to stare. Kelso shrinks under their gaze.   KELSO: (to Eric) Shut up!   ERIC: Oh, come on, Kelso, you know I love you!   KELSO: Eric, quit it!   FEZ: (with passion) I love you the most!   Eric and Kelso both stare at Fez.   ERIC: I was just kidding.   FEZ: (beat) So was I. So was I.   He retreats inside the Vista Cruiser.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   After the drive back. Hyde sits in his chair, Eric sits on the top of the couch, and Fez sits in the couch properly on the other end. He and Hyde have a few bottle rockets in hand each, while Eric holds the greater bundle.   HYDE: So, no cows out in the field?   ERIC: None. Man, what are we gonna do with all these bottle rockets?   He and Hyde both slowly turn toward Fez. He sighs and grabs the stupid helmet.   FEZ: Fine, I'll be the cow. But this time, count all the way to ten.   ERIC: You got it, buddy.   Fez jumps up and races out the basement door.   ERIC: One...   HYDE: Ten.   They jump up and hurry after Fez.   END.

#z's fics #that 70s show #zenmasters #jackie x hyde #zen3to5+ #fan fiction #fan script