#karen crawly

[draconiccatgirl]

Going to math out the remaining Rejuv Gyms because I just need distraction from. Loneliness, and the memories just tearing and gnashing at my brain.

-Known (Defeated)

1. Venam (Poison)

2. Keta (Fighting)

3. Maria (Normal)

4. Narcissa (Ghost)

5. Valerie (Water)

6. Crawli (Bug)

7. Angie/Kriess (Ice)

8. Amber (Fire)

9. Erick (Electric)

10. Flora (Grass)

11. Puppet Master/Lavender (Psychic)

-Known (Undefeated)

??. Saki (Steel)

??. Adam (Rock)

??. Talon (Flying)

-Unknown

??. ??? (Dark) (Erin?)

??. ??? (Fairy)

??. ??? (Dragon)

??. ??? (Ground) (Guy with Orange Hair and Torterra?)

-Elite 8

-Tesla (Fire?)

-Karen (Rock?)

#pokemon #pokemon rejuvenation

[littlesliceofimmortality]

oliver would be the type of guy to own a tarantula and be WAY too enthusiastic about it. he is GIVING that thing a 20 year lifespan he ADORES the beast ❤️ would infodump the most morbid facts in a delighted tone

the only person who would go to his house to see it would be karen. gingi would eat it, randy would Freak out, and norm would pretend not to "get it" (whyre ya givin the critter in a whole tank? shouldnt ya leave those creepy crawlies outside? just gives me the heebie jeebies) while secretely being petrified

#oliver asks karen if she wants to hold it and she so politely shakes her head. No #dialtown #henrys rambles

[moonyartsblog]

Series 9 Post 13: Drum rolls and...welcome to our beloved and adored Miss. Karen Crawly~ ❤️

The flower that matches her is the mallow or, also called, Hollylock.

In the language of flowers, the mallow symbolizes feminine ambition, maternal love, fertility and love in general.

Its beauty and vivacity represent love and passion. A symbol of vigor and vitality, it conveys a sense of inner strength and hope. Malvarosa can also represent gratitude and appreciation toward someone. At the same time, it is also associated with the ephemeral nature of beauty and can be interpreted as a warning against vanity and attachment to superficial appearances.

#singmovie #sing2 #singfanart #illuminationetertainment #misscrawly #karencrawly #misscrawlysingmovie #misscrawlytheiguana #iguana #canoncharacter #cc

[incorrectdaedra]

Before the Daedra Sexyman contest can begin, there will be, as previously announced, a daedric UNSEXYman contest who will be barred from the main contest in order to keep our numbers to a nice, even 16. This will be nomination-based. So far, the nominees are:

Molag bal (the ethically challenged)

Mehrunes Dagon (the repeated ad nauseam)

Peryite (the infamously unknown)

Namira (the unshowered)

Meridia (the karen incarnate)

Mephala (the creepy crawly)

If anyone else wishes to add a nominee, speak now or forever hold your peace.

#tesblr #the elder scrolls #daedra #daedric prince #tes

[see-arcane]

wip ask game: Girl in Pearls, Bitter Maria, Where the Red Shoes Went 👀👀👀 yo tell me how you get such nice titles

The secret to good titles is 1) Don't be afraid to be Dramatique ✨ and 2) Imagine you're naming a song or a fairy tale regardless of genre

Anyway!

Girl in Pearls: Part of my 'Pest and Molt' clump of ideas focused on creepy crawly horror. The premise begins with the sight of the eponymous Girl in Pearls. She is never seen without her trademark. Pearls at her neck, her ears, her wrists, her knuckles. Pearls pinned in her hair or spotting her clothes. She's a vision of antique beauty wherever she's seen. Whenever she's seen. Across countries. Across centuries. To see her in person means she has already seen you. Which means it's already too late to run.

Bitter Maria: It's the grimmest, sourest, most bile-bloated result of repeat watches of Rosemary's Baby, reading the original Madelyne Pryor comic arc, and absorbing any news to do with the state of bodily autonomy in my country. It is one of the ugliest premises I have ever dredged up from my subconscious. One of my most indulgent too. It centers around Maria, who is pregnant against her will. Maria, who finds a pinhole in the condom. Maria, who finds her husband inside another girl in their marriage bed. Maria, who has not been a stranger to violence since she was a child. Maria, who has the eyes of a god and a devil on her and a surprise waiting for the fruit of her labor.

Where the Red Shoes Went: Little Karen of Hans Christian Andersen's "The Red Shoes" gets to have a cathartic and understandably venomous heart-to-heart with the Old Man/"Angel" who cursed the shoes that made her have to lop off her feet in the first place. A little chit-chat in the vein of pointing out the flawed logic of cursing a destitute child for enjoying the one (1) nice thing she owned instead of, say, using any of that magic on the wealthy who sponge up all the resources and fine things for themselves, or outright cutthroats and tyrants, or a grown-ass adult, period. And catching on that the Angel was never an Angel at all.

#my writing #WIP #tw unwanted pregnancy

[writers-in-moominvalley]

💡Lightbulb Moment💡

I've seen too many people make this mistake and I want to clear it up for those who do really care about it;

The Fillyjonk Who Believed in Disasters, the Fillyjonk in Moominvalley in November and Mrs. Fillyjonk from the comics and 90s adaptation are 3 different characters.

The one overarching trait for each of them is their need for order and cleanliness, though that trait is a little tenuous when it comes to FWBD, I suppose their need to impress is a good alternative shared trait, or rather a second trait.

The Fillyjonk Who Believed in Disasters is from Tales from Moominvalley, she bought a beach house which a hemulen claimed to have belonged to her grandma and has an inexplicable anxiety about something bad about to happen. She tries to make friends with Gaffsie but has no luck, her beach house feels isolating and unwelcoming of her very presence. Then, after the disaster she so dreaded happens, she laughs off the hurricane's destruction of her house and feels better because of it. She became free of her supposed duty to her family connections, free of the dreary and oppressive house.

Fillyjonk (who doesn't have an article in her name for some reason) from Moominvalley in November lived in a mansion where she had chased away her friends and family to focus on cleaning, and just cleaning. After a traumatic near-death experience and realizing nobody would've noticed if she had died, she sets out to visit Moominmamma to ease her worries, only to find strangers have inhabited Moominhouse in the Moomins' absence. She swore to herself to never cook or clean again because of the traumatic experience and has become deathly afraid of insects and bacteria and creepy-crawlies. As time went by at Moominhouse she finally became comfortable with herself again and started enjoying cooking and cleaning again, and she even picked up a new interest in music by the end of her presence in the book.

Mrs. Fillyjonk originated from the comics, she's a 'housewife' (with no husband to be found) and has 3 children and a maid (Mabel, Misabel's sister) working under her. She's the Karen Fillyjonk, she's the one who looks for assistance from the Inspector the most, she's the one who pressures Moominmamma to be a proper woman, she's part of a woman's committee. Mrs. Fillyjonk doesn't have an obvious deep anxiety like the other two, she's comfortable in her routine and home life, she loves cleaning, her children are obedient and even look to help her (though the 90s series does characterize them as tired of their mother's strictness). She has a cow named Rose.

None of these characters have any references to each other, the Fillyjonk, Fillyjonk and Mrs. Fillyjonk are all different characters, much like how the dozen hemulens and hemuls are different.

(bonus: I didn't mention 2019 Mrs. Fillyjonk because she feels like an entirely different character on her own, the children are her nieces, her anxiety is humorous instead of suspenseful or sympathetic, Sniff's stuffed dog was her childhood toy now; she's a different character unique to Moominvalley, even if I don't like her as an adaptation of the other three, even if she has moments referencing them.)

#moomins #moominvalley #moomin #lightbulb moment #mrs fillyjonk #the fillyjonk #the fillyjonk who believed in disasters #november fillyjonk #fillyjonk

[tigresslanzhu]

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… THE CRYSTAL SNEAK WAS SO BORING!

Seriously, they got past Karen too easily, with only like ONE potential noise giving them away (Gunter nearly reacting to having his tushy poked by Ash’s quills). There needs to be more than that to add more tension and have those watching Sing 2 wondering, can they do it?

I did a fanfic about how I’d write this scene, but here’s the summary if you don’t want to read the link below:

Everything that happens in the film occurs here, but Miss Crawly decides that the “ride” is fun and randomly shouts “WHEEEEEE!”, at least prompting Karen to look up. As for Meena… you all know me well enough to know what I would write for her. I’m serious, if it were me with a scrub brush under my nose with all those coarse hairs tickling it, I’d definitely give everyone away with a sneeze!

I’m just saying, they could have made this scene more exciting, rather than just taking the easy way out for budget and time restraints.

#sing 2021 #sing 2016 #sing 2 #howiwouldhavewrittenit

[pnf-lover98]

Ho postato 80 volte nel 2022

Sono 46 post in più del 2021!

78 post creati (98%)

2 post rebloggati (3%)

Blog che ho rebloggato di più:

@hbalto

Ho taggato 79 dei miei post nel 2022

Solo 1% dei miei post non aveva tag

#sing movie - 62 post

#sing 2 - 59 post

#sing oc - 39 post

#my art - 39 post

#original character - 39 post

#buster moon - 33 post

#bia springs - 29 post

#bia and buster - 29 post

#my writing - 18 post

#asks - 12 post

Tag più lungo: 19 caratteri

#the stanley parable

I miei post migliori nel 2022:

#5

When her sobs eventually died out, Rosita wiped her eyes and placed her hands down on the metal surface of the platform. Suddenly, maybe due to tiredness, or to her sense of guilt - or perhaps due to that trauma she hadn't yet learned how to handle - she thought she saw a hand moving closer and coming to rest on hers. Rosita gasped as she recognized the familiar gray fur, and quickly raised her head. Buster was there, sitting down on his knees next to her on the platform, smiling at her. He wasn’t speaking, but he was trying to reassure her with a soft, caring look in his eyes.

(An extract from my fic “Stars still shine”)

While I was still working on the second chapter of my fic, I felt inspired to draw one of the scenes I wrote. Sadly, it took me way too long to finish this minicomic to publish it along with my fict. So here it is, with a post on its own. 

For this scene, I had two main musical inspirations, one of which is “Drops of Jupiter” (Taylor Swift’s version, because she talks about a man instead of a woman like in the original), from which I took the main artistic decision for this comic: instead of going for the usual transparent-glowy look for my little ghost, here he is with “drops of jupiter” (tiny glittery ‘stars’ and blueish reflections) in his fur.

Now, the story arc is officially over. See you soon with happier content!

38 note - Postate 10 febbraio 2022

#4

A tiny porcupine lady I sketched while I was having lunch 🎸🎶

39 note - Postate 13 novembre 2022

#3

Sing fanfic - “The mom living next door”

Ever since I read @pinwheelwhirl 's post with her headcanons about Miss Crawly knowing Buster ever since he was a kid, I've been wanting to try my own hand at writing something for these two. And the moment has finally come!

Here’s the fic!

Summary:

“Have you seen Miss Crawly’s brand new eye?” His father asked him one day, after he came back home from school. Their neighbor, in fact, had recently lost an eye, and now she sported a prosthetic one made of glass that gave her a funny derp look. “I did. She looks fun, it reminds me of a pirate.” A teenage Buster replied, smiling. “I want to write a story with a character just like her. And when I’ll have my theater, we’ll stage the show. I’m sure that everyone is going to love it!”

But rather than a character in a show, Karen ended up becoming a pillar to the theater itself, the only other person that knew the building down to its last brick just like he did.

[Attention, everyone! This fic is going to be an emotional one. You’ve been warned.]

45 note - Postate 24 marzo 2022

#2

It seems like Narry woke up on his funny side, on this run!

47 note - Postate 18 giugno 2022

Il mio post numero 1 del 2022

Meanwhile, somewhere in Heaven...

... We have a lovely couple of parents watching their son from above!

(For those who are wondering, no I didn't make up Buster's mom; her design appears in one of the original sketches of the Sing movie artbook)

73 note - Postate 5 aprile 2022

Guarda ora l'Analisi del tuo anno 2022 di Tumblr →

#tumblr2022 #bilancio annuale #Il mio bilancio dell'anno 2022 #Il tuo bilancio annuale #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sing movie #Sing 2 #buster moon #My art

[laresearchette]

Wednesday, December 13, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: IN THE KITCHEN WITH HARRY HAMLIN: A HOLIDAY SPECIAL (AMC+)

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: 30 FOR 30: THE MINISTER OF DEFENSE (TBD - TSN)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CBC GEM THE CHRISTMAS SETUP IS ANYBODY OUT THERE? WAR AND PEACE

DISNEY + STAR UNDEAD UNLUCK (Season 1, Premiere Episode) JFK: ONE DAY IN AMERICA (All Episodes)

NETFLIX CANADA 1670 (PL) CAR MASTERS: RUST TO RICHES (Season 5) HOLIDAY IN THE VINEYARDS THE INFLUENCER (CO) SE EU FOSSE: LUISA SONZA (BR)

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 7:00pm: Penguins vs. Habs (SN) 10:00pm: Sabres vs. Avalanche (TSN3) 10:30pm: Jets vs. Kings

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1) 7:30pm: Hawks vs. Raptors (TSN/TSN4/TSN5) 8:00pm: Lakers vs. Spurs

SWAN SONG (CBC) 8:00pm (FINALE): Whether or not the company is ready, opening night arrives; all eyes are on the dancers as they step out on stage, while Karen tries to contain her nerves as her farewell production is unveiled; Karen Kain, Robert Binet, Arielle Mirales.

JAMIE’S CHRISTMAS SHORTCUTS (CTV Life) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Christmas Dinner

GOOD WITH WOOD (Makeful) 8:00pm: The six woodworkers face their biggest test: sculpting a supersize creepy-crawly and a house to keep this one-of-a-kind build in.

A COZY CHRISTMAS INN (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: A real estate executive travels to Alaska during the holidays to acquire a bed-and-breakfast, only to discover it's owned by her ex. She's soon falling in love with the town and quite possibly him all over again.

BLACK LIFE: UNTOLD STORIES (CBC) 9:00pm: A lyrical journey through the growth of Black communities and their resistance to systemic displacement.

BARRY MANILOW'S A VERY BARRY CHRISTMAS (Global) 9:30pm: Music legend Barry Manilow and his world-renowned band celebrate the holidays at the Westgate Las Vegas Resort & Casino with performances of Manilow's greatest hits along with several holiday favorites.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #swan song #good with wood #black life: untold stories #nhl hockey #nba basketball

[behindfairytales]

+ BONUS :

#sing 2 #sing 2021 #sing2edit #miss crawly #karen crawly #movieedit #system of a down #chop suey! #*gifs #*mine #bonus post! #tw scars #tw death #not my usual content but i had to! #this mood is everything #miss crawly is everything! #she's my spirit animal #first time giffing animation though #first time with subtitles too #anyway i'm going to bed now #bye! #n:50

[hmcvirgo92sstrangeheadcanons]

The Sing (2016) characters’ zodiac signs.

#sing (2016) #universal pictures #illumination entertainment #buster moon #ash the porcupine #meena the elephant #rosita the pig #mike the mouse #johnny the gorilla #gunther the pig #eddie noodleman #nana noodleman #karen crawly #big daddy #norman the pig #zodiac signs #headcanon

[oliverstarked]

listen to my broken sound (ao3 link) feat. buck and eddie being soft together on the balcony again

It’s the tickling touch of a cool breeze that wakes Buck, the hairs on his arms standing on end and his spine shivering. Instinctively, he burrows down further into the bedding and reaches out for the warm body next to him, only to find nothing but cold sheets and empty space. Waking up a little more, he blinks a few times and takes in the blue darkness and heavy silence around him. He taps his phone screen: 4:12am. With a sigh and distinct longing for the warm bed he’s leaving behind, he slides to his feet and grabs his LAFD hoodie and boxer shorts. 

Eddie’s not in the bathroom so Buck pads softly down the stairs and notices the open patio door straight away. He shivers again now that he’s more exposed to the biting night air and he pulls his sleeves over his hands. If he’s cold, he can only imagine how Eddie is feeling, standing on the balcony in nothing but his underwear and gazing out at the sleepy horizon. 

It had been a good evening; somehow Denny’s birthday party had become an excuse for the whole team to get together at Hen and Karen’s for margaritas and Mexican food, watching the kids in the backyard as a guy with various creepy crawlies and small reptiles kept them entertained. Buck spent more time outside, letting a tarantula run over his hands and laughing when Bobby manfully fled at the appearance of a snake, than he did indoors with the other adults but it was worth it to see Denny light up when a lizard sat in his hair and to listen to Chris gleefully teach his friends about the difference between a python and a cobra.

By the time dusk was casting a peach-pink glow over the backyard, the few kids remaining at Hen’s for a sleepover were safely ensconced in Denny’s room playing video games and Buck was ready to beg off and take Eddie with him. It was rare that they had a night to themselves without Chris and he was going to make the most of it. How they ended up back at his apartment is a bit of a blur; between Eddie’s wandering hands and the filthy things muttered in his ear, it’s a miracle they didn’t wind up in a ditch somewhere. 

It doesn’t surprise Buck that he’s here now though. If Eddie has a nightmare Buck usually wakes up on instinct, but as they get more sporadic Eddie gets better at concealing them. This isn’t the first time he’s woken to find Eddie has retreated in on himself and away from Buck.

“Jesus, it’s cold,” Buck says as he steps onto the balcony. He comes up behind Eddie and winds his arms tight around Eddie’s waist, pressing his icy nose into his neck. Eddie’s freezing, goosebumps all over his body, but he just hums and takes one hand off the rail to rest it on Buck’s forearm instead. Not pushing Buck away, but not fully allowing him in either. “Nightmare?”

Eddie doesn’t confirm or deny this. Instead, he rumbles, “You know it’s at times like this I wish I smoked.”

Buck snorts. “No you don’t. You’re too smart for that.”

“It’s a better vice than some,” Eddie rebukes, and his fists clench until his knuckles shine white and bright in the moonlight, a mountain range of anxiety. Buck thinks about the terrible time Eddie was fighting and he wasn’t around enough to see that something was very wrong until it was nearly too late. He made a vow to himself then that that wouldn’t happen again, and so far he’s stuck to his promise.

“Come back to bed, you’re too cold,” he whispers into the soft hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“I can’t,” Eddie grits out. “I need the cold. It makes me feel…”

Alive. Present. Real. Buck’s brain supplies the end of the sentence and he wishes there was more he could do. Helplessly, he kisses Eddie’s shoulder, lips dragging over the raised exit wound scar, the new skin still a little pink and raw. It makes Eddie shudder, as it always does when Buck touches his scars, but to Buck the imperfect landscape of Eddie’s body is nothing but a beautiful, brilliant reminder of someone who has made it through. 

“What did you dream about?” Buck asks, hating the way Eddie’s body tenses in response. He knows that Eddie is aware that he should talk about it. He’s had enough sessions with Frank to understand that Buck is only trying to help and that keeping it bottled up will only make it worse, but Buck also knows that repression is Eddie’s middle name.

“It doesn’t matter,” Eddie says tightly. 

“Don’t shut me out, man,” Buck pleads, which has Eddie roughly pulling out of Buck’s arms and turning round to face him. Buck backs away a few steps, hands raised placatingly.

“It doesn’t matter because it’s the same thing I always dream about!” Eddie bursts out. His face is drawn and pale, eyes ringed with shadows. “Gunshots, blood, tarmac, sand, death. The nightmares are gonna keep on comin’ no matter how often I talk about them or write about them in a fucking dream diary or go see Frank. He can’t help, you can’t help, nothing helps.”

He’s breathing heavily by the time he’s done but Buck doesn’t touch him yet, knows that all Eddie’s nerve-endings are on fire right now and doesn’t want to make things worse. Doctor Copeland has given Buck a lot of advice on how to help Eddie when his PTSD flares up, but at this moment all he wants to do is pull him into a hug and take Eddie’s pain for himself. Instead, he does nothing but wait it out.

Eventually, Eddie deflates. His whole body is trembling and he wraps his arms around his stomach and doesn’t look Buck in the eye as he murmurs, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Buck says honestly. He pauses, then adds, “Can I touch you?”

Slowly, like he’s not even sure whether he deserves it or not, Eddie nods. Buck’s immediately across the balcony, holding him close, and Eddie’s hands come up to grip the soft fabric of his hoodie at his back with desperate agony. Buck kisses his shoulder, neck, behind his ear, the tip of his nose, until he ghosts his mouth over Eddie’s. Eddie makes a faint sound of anguish so Buck kisses him properly, lips clinging when they part. 

“Thank you,” Eddie whispers, so quiet Buck almost doesn’t catch it. 

“For what?”

“Not giving up on me.”

Buck kisses love into Eddie’s mouth, one hand in his hair and the other on his bare waist. “Never,” he promises. Eddie’s jaw is prickly but Buck presses his mouth against it anyway. A hint of Eddie’s aftershave still lingers on his skin. He’s so gorgeous it overwhelms Buck sometimes. 

“God, you smell good,” he mutters, which at least makes Eddie smile. They stand there like that for a few more minutes until a violent shudder wracks Eddie’s body at which point Buck decides enough is enough. “C’mon.”

He takes both of Eddie’s hands, his strong capable hands that have touched Buck, held him, taken him apart and put him back together again. Buck loves a lot of things about Eddie, but his hands come close to the top of the list. Quietly, he draws Eddie back inside, sliding the door closed behind them. The apartment is silent but it welcomes them back with a comfortable warmth. Upstairs, Buck gently pushes Eddie into bed and tucks the comforter around him tightly, before stripping off his hoodie and climbing in beside him. He immediately pushes their bodies close together until it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. If Eddie clings to him a bit tighter than usual, Buck doesn’t comment on it. He just allows himself to be kissed, tongue curling around Eddie’s, his palm on the side of Eddie’s face. 

“Hey, want me to really warm you up?” Buck asks, bouncing his eyebrows.

The space under the covers becomes hot and sweltering then, their boxers twisted somewhere around their feet, as Eddie shakes apart on Buck’s fingers and Buck tips over the edge at the sight of him, the sound, the quaking, trembling gasps and the thighs clenching around his waist. They pant together afterwards, sharing lazy kisses that are more a press of mouths than anything else, and Buck knows they should probably shower, that they’ll regret it in the morning if not, but right now he feels floaty and spent and can’t bring himself to care. 

“You make me feel grounded,” Eddie confesses, breaking the hushed pre-dawn stillness. He’s tracing the tattoo on Buck’s chest with a gentle fingertip. He doesn’t look up. Buck kisses the top of his head in encouragement. “You make me feel safe. You make me feel good. You make me feel loved.”

Buck’s heart breaks a little for him, but he just gathers Eddie closer and promises him, “You are all those things.”

A pale, autumn dawn begins to creep into the loft, blue-gray and calm. It doesn’t take long for Eddie’s breathing to even out into sleep. Comforted in the knowledge that he’s okay, Buck finally allows himself to drift off too, between one sleepy blink and the next.

#this was literally written just to help me process my eddie diaz ptsd feelings #buddie #buddie fic #buddiefic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 on fox #911 fox #*fic

[moonyartsblog]

Series 5 post 17: Karen doesn't care how she's dressed under her clothes, what matters to her is that she has another protection from the elements.

Nevertheless to Miss. Crawly likes to experiment with new lingerie and, often, dresses suits that know how to wrap her figure without, however, giving her that sense of constriction that oppresses her.

If instead we talk about how she sees her body there is only one sentence to say: she sees herself as perfect as she is, with the signs of wisdom dancing on her skin.

#singmovie #sing2 #singfanart #illuminationetertainment #karencrawly #misscrawly #misscrawlysingmovie #misscrawlytheiguana #iguana #canoncharacter

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.12 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Stretch has some wheels now and he has directions, now he only needs to start down the path!

Read ‘Down the Garden Path’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch’s good mood lasted right about as long as it took to get back to the store. Not that he replaced it with a bad mood, nah, he was still pretty darn cheerful. But now that paybacks were done, it was time to put on his working hat, so to speak. To begin with, his new bike needed a thorough checking over; a skeleton could not travel on wheels alone, not unless he went back for roller skates. He needed to make sure the rest of the bike would get him to where he needed to go, too.

There was a ramshackle garage squatting behind the store, the siding a grungier match to the building up front and the cracked windows too filthy to peer inside. The roll-up door was rusted shut, but the side door was unlocked. Stretch opened it a crack and dared to look inside, braced for anything. Bats, rats, creepy crawlies, who the hell knew what grew inside the sheds in a town with possibly man-eating corn.

If there were any beasties, crawly or otherwise, they stayed hidden behind the wispy cobwebs or in their holes. What he did find was a lot of junk, piled in heaps, spilling out of bins and stacked on shelves. There was enough crap that if Red wanted, he could start a side business as a resale shop and give Miss Maggie some competition, mysterious message from the oracle not included, although tetanus was still on the table.

As curious as some of the objects were, and damn, he could stir up some trouble on the /whatisthisthing reddit with all this, now was not the time for distractions from the main questline, not when victory was in sight.

It didn’t take too much rummaging to find a bike pump and a small metal toolbox that for a wonder, actually had tools in it. He carried both back into the sunshine where the patient was waiting and got to work.

Stretch was never going to earn a paycheck as a handyman, but he did know a little about bicycles. Chara had one and so did their friends and he’d gotten suckered into helping with maintenance a few times by a set of big brown eyes pleading their case. Even had his own bike back home, though it hadn’t been used in a long time. A nice little ten speed with glittery orange paint and a thick padded seat to make up for his lack of pillowy booty surrounding his tailbone. Once upon a time, that bike got pretty decent amount of use, but that fairytale wasn’t one he wanted to get into right now.

This old rattletrap had exactly two speeds; go and stop. The tires were a little bald, but luckily, they took air without issue. The chain was rusty, but it responded readily to some WD-40 lubing and a little foreplay, the tramp. He checked all the bolts and sprockets, wiped off the seat and the little wire basket, and for good measure, gave the horn a good squeeze, setting off a hoarse ‘awooga’ into the still afternoon. Height was a bit of an issue, Stretch wasn’t ever gonna earn the nickname ‘short stuff’, not unless the next fairytale he stumbled into was Jack and the Beanstalk, but he managed to get the seat up enough that he wouldn’t jam himself in the chin with a knee.

Once he was done, he wheeled the bike out to the road and gave it a test drive, tooling up and down the main road. It worked fine, the tires crunching over the gravel, and when he gave the horn a honk as he sailed past Mama’s, he could see people looking through the windows at him, some of them raising their hands in a wave.

He turned around past the sheriff’s and headed back, pedaling slowly. The inkling of an idea was taking hold at the back of his mind, winding its way in like paint dripping down a wall and puddling in his brain pan. Yeah, the bike was fine and all, but he’d been ‘fine’ pedaling along back in Ebott, hadn’t he. Taking little rides in the traditional manner on his shiny, fancy bike that he hadn’t bought and didn’t use the other nine speeds on.

Well, he wasn’t in Ebott anymore, and maybe fine wasn’t good enough. All things could use a little improvement, right, even bikes.

Decision made, he headed back to the shed. He didn’t know if any of this crap was Red’s (and seriously, what was that thing with the handles and the springs, it looked like an eggbeater on steroids) or if it’d been here when he moved in, but it was all covered with enough dust that there probably wasn’t anyone around to mourn the loss. The rolling door responded to a tickle and grope of WD-40 as well as the bike chain had and Stretch ran it up, forging his way through the trash jungle. He managed to clear out enough space to haul out the bulky item he’d noticed early partially hidden under a drop cloth and got to work.

By the time he was nearly done, he was sweaty and filthy, but about ready to celebrate his triumph and thank the Academy. He’d shed his t-shirt, using it instead as a rag to wipe his forehead and if anyone spotting him as they walked down the sidewalk had a problem with his bare bones, no one made a fuss about it like they would have back in Ebott. There was a whole Karen Brigade back there worried about nudity and Monsters, seriously, those people would force a moldsmal into some boxer shorts if they had a chance.

He glanced up at the bang of the side door closing to see Red and the dog headed his way. Red was carrying a brimming glass of iced sweet tea as he limped along. He cursed with colorful flair as the dog danced its way in front of him, making him slop tea over his fingers as he tried not to trip himself with his own cane. He aimed a halfhearted kick at the dog that missed by a mile. The dog only barked gleefully, darting over to Stretch, tongue at the ready for a taste test to verify Stretch was as yummy today as he’d been last night.

Stretch only laughed and tried to hold the dog back in a feeble effort to avoid those eager licks. “easy, pal, you saw me a couple hours ago!”

“he probably don’t remember, mutt has a brain the size of a peanut,” Red growled. He handed it over the tea wordlessly, giving the newly-redesigned bike a once-over as Stretch gulped it down gratefully.

“what the hell are you up to out here?” Red asked. He paused by the remains of the push lawnmower that was laid open like an autopsy, poking it absently with his cane, “and what happened here?

“i…uh…may have borrowed the engine,” Stretch admitted sheepishly.

“borrowed,” Red snorted. “uh huh. seen this kind of borrowing before, usually turns into keepsies right quick.”

“i can put it back—” Stretch started uncertainly. Red waved him off, watching in bemusement as the dog took advantage of the distraction to lick right into Stretch’s mouth and left him sputtering in disgust.

“nah, ain’t used the damn thing in ages,” Red said. “i pay a local kid to mow these days. may as well donate the innards before it gets buried.”

No surprise there. Even after last night's stormy weather tantrum, the ground had dried right up again in the morning sunshine. The mud puddles all dried into cracked divots and whatever grass was left was a charming shade of dead. Walking across it was like taking a stroll through a giant bowl of shredded wheat,

Red wandered back to the bike, his browbone slowly rising as he examined it. “you get that from old madge?” he asked neutrally.

Stretch closed his sockets briefly to block him out. The glass in his hand was down to rapidly melting ice cubes and dripping with condensation. He pressed to cool surface to his forehead, letting the cold wetness soothe him as he said, "okay, what. what's wrong with it.”

Red gave him a startled look, “huh?"

“no, i mean it,” Stretch said insistently. “don’t blow smoke up my ass, what's wrong? do purchases from her come with a darker, deeper price unknown? is all her shit haunted? does riding it commit my soul to the forces of evil? if I rub it does a genie come out, what?” He waved a hand at the possibly monster bike and not the kind of Monster listed on his personal I.D. “tell me now, don’t play sphinx with me, not today.”

Red snorted loudly and pulled out a little cylinder from his pocket. He shook out a toothpick and stuck it between his teeth. “nah, but it might break on ya two miles down the road.” His grin turned wolfish. “getting a little paranoid, dontcha think, city boy?”

“no,” Stretch said, shortly.

Red only chuckled. “only thing wrong with that bike is what you frankensteined onto it. hope that thing actually runs or blowing smoke up your ass is gonna be the least of your problems.”

“it’ll run.” Okay, so he was about 95% sure it was gonna run. Maybe 90%. The engine he’d scavenged from the old lawnmower was strapped to the package carrier on the back of the bike, hooked up to the back wheel with a few extra gears and chain he’d dug out of the garage and he’d jerry-rigged a sort of throttle to the handlebars. It wasn’t pretty, but he was sure it would run without blowing up. Pretty sure.

Sure enough to give it a try, anyway.

“uh huh,” Red rolled the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue, neat trick around those sharky teeth of his. “where ya think your headed on that death trap, anyway?”

Yeah, okay, that brought him up short. Aside from warning him off of any booty calls, (not that Stretch was looking for any shape of booty and sure as hell wasn’t taking any calls), Red had been pretty mum when it came to opinions about him hanging out with Edge. Stretch wasn’t under any illusions that Red was unaware of the happenings in town and not only because Edge probably damn well called him so they could keep their mystery woo woos on the same frequency. Red seemed like he knew all the local gossip, hell, he was probably the unofficial town bookie, who knew what he got up to on those weekend poker games?

But Edge was Red’s baby brother and as a big brother himself, Stretch was pretty sure he’d have some mighty strong opinions on Blue inviting someone like him out for pie, much less inviting them home to meet the family. No prospects, nothing ahead of him in life. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing underwear.

And anyway, like he had any right to any fucking opinions about Blue’s life after the way he left—nope, not going there right now.

So, yeah, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to admit he was going to see Edge, except how he really didn’t. He didn’t want to see any disappointment on Red’s face or distaste or…or whatever ‘dis’ might sprout up and if Red told him to leave his bro alone, told him not to go, Stretch wouldn’t, he would never, he owed Red so much, owed him in ways Red didn’t even know about, but—but—

His mental waffling took far too long, and Red was unfortunately just as clever as Stretch feared or maybe it was the simple fact that the options of where someone could go in this town on a motorized bicycle was a pretty short list. One corner of Red’s mouth curled up in a half-smile. “headed out to the farm, huh.”

Stretch struggled with an answer and didn’t manage anything better than the obvious, “i think so?” he said meekly, “i mean, edge sort of invited me. not invited invited, it’s not like a date, not that i wouldn’t date him, except you know, i wouldn’t because it’s a bad idea right now like you said, but he said i should meet his roommate and that I’d have to go to his house to do it and—" Stretch broke off to gasp for breath and his ‘fuck, please kill me to shut me up’ was left unspoken.

“okay, okay, ease down on the gas there. you must think i'm missing my wits on top of my foot.” Red snorted. “go wherever you want, kid, don’t make me no nevermind.” The dog was settled into Stretch’s lap, sound asleep and drooling enthusiastically, and Red leaned over to give him a pat, then struggled back up to give Stretch a similar one on top of his skull. He glanced at the bike again and asked speculatively, “’bout how fast you figure this hunk a junk can go?”

“not sure,” Stretch admitted, “not too fast. maybe twelve miles an hour?”

“that a fact,” Red spat the toothpick into the dust and sucked loudly on his teeth. “hang on a mo’.” He limped through the open garage door and the sound of brisk rummaging echoed out. When he came back, grinning triumphantly, it was a bicycle helmet in hand. It was leopard-spotted, only that hideous pink-and-purple shade never graced any beast Stretch ever heard about. Perched on the top of the helmet were a pair of slightly bedraggled plastic cat ears and Stretch took it as solemnly as if he’d been handed Excalibur itself. Beggar vs chooser? Not him.

Red stuck his hands in his pockets, his cane hooked over his elbow as he rocked unsteadily on his heels, “well c’mon, then, start ’er up. i can’t stand out here forever, someone’s gotta mind the store.”

“oh!” Stretch gave the back door a guilty look, “shouldn’t you head in, someone might loot the register or something.”

“no one steals from my shop.” Coolly assured and yeah, Stretch believed it, and not only because the townsfolk were good people.

Stretch pushed the dog off his lap, ignoring its pitiful whine, and went to the bike. Here was the moment of truth. He gave the primer button a few pushes, then yanked the pull cord as hard as he could. It didn’t catch the first time, or the second, but on the third it sputtered a few times, coughed out a cloud of black smoke, then caught, puttered evenly along.

“see!” Stretch said triumphantly, speaking loudly to be heard over the blatting noise. “it didn’t blow up!”

“don’t know if that’s as reassuring as you seem to think, kid,” Red called back, but his grin was easy, “you know how to get there?”

Stretch cut the engine. He snagged his dirty t-shirt and made a fruitless attempt at wiping the grease off his hands. “down the exchange for about a mile, hang a left, don’t stray from the path.”

“s’right,” Red nodded, “you leave soon, you'll get there right around suppertime and that’s always a good time to show up on my bro’s doorstep.”

“thanks, red,” Stretch said gratefully, “thank you.”

“don't thank me yet. and kid?” Red’s crimson gaze seemed to bore into him, “whatever you see or hear, don't you leave that path."

Well, Stretch should’ve known he wasn’t getting out of here without at least a vaguely cryptic warning.

“i won’t, promise.”

Red nodded and started the slow trudge back to the store. The dog roused himself enough to follow along, tail wagging happily. Red paused at the door and called back, “tell the kid i said hi.”

“i will, but didn’t you just see edge this morning?” Stretch asked curiously.

“didn’t mean him.” Before he could ask, Red was gone back inside with a bang of the screen door, taking both dog and answers with him.

Welp, chasing after him was pointless and anyway, that question would be answered as soon as he got to Edge’s place, which it seemed he now had Red’s unofficial approval to visit. Stretch couldn’t help grinning and he hugged himself tightly, managing to smear even more grease on his bones.

Yeah, okay, he needed at least five minutes for a quick wash up before he headed out or the woods would be the least of his worries. Edge and his roomie would kick him and his stank right back out to the road before he could make it to the porch.

Stretch left the bike and his mess where it was, promising himself guiltily to handle the junk cleanup tomorrow as he headed in to wash and change, and he did not spend an extra minute considering what t-shirt would make the best first impression for the unknown roommate.

He really didn’t.

~~*~~

The first thing Stretch figured out as he started on his journey was that it was honestly a nice day for a ride. Overhead the sky was an endless blue with only a few careless puffy clouds that had no interest in interfering with the affairs of the sun. The blowing wind wasn’t afraid though, it chased away the heat, and that combined with the blatting engine made it impossible to hear much of anything.

Not that there was much to hear. He stayed off the actual road, keeping to the wayside so as not to distract any of the cars as he puttered his way along.

The directions weren’t exactly complex, only one turn that he knew of, right into the woods. Stretch found it easily enough, the paved road vanishing into dust and gravel that led into the trees.

That was where he paused, easing off the throttle and putting his feet down as he looked at the entrance.

It was only trees, their tall, sturdy trunks reaching up towards the sky and the wide, green spread of their leafy branches casting the path in shadows. There were a pair of tire ruts in the path which meant someone drove it regularly and not just Edge’s motorcycle.

Only trees, that was all. Right, just like it’d only been corn, and Stretch didn’t move, sitting there with the engine blatting cheerily and the blue sky watching over him as he waited here on the cusp of…what? Fate? Or fatality?

There was only one way to find out.

Behind him, a couple trucks zoomed on past on their way down the exchange, either heedless of his inner turmoil or foolishly assuming he knew what he was doing and honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d known what he was doing for years now.

His concerns weren’t all simply about traveling in these woods, either, despite them being the same ones Red warned him away from and no less than two people went off with the cryptic about not straying from the path. No, there was also the fact he was gonna be meeting Edge’s unknown roommate to ask questions about some of the mysteries of this place and he’d be lying if he didn’t attribute a nervous butterfly or two to that.

The blat of a horn nearly sent him leaping right out of his shorts and when he jerked around, barely catching his balance before both he and the bike spilled into the dust, he saw a group of Humans in the back of a pickup truck waving at him and probably laughing at his helmet.

He waved back, unable to help a sheepish grin, and then turned back to the path. The trees only rustled softly in the light breeze, branches lightly swaying. It didn’t seem scary and hell, he knew scary. Scary was the first time he stepped out into the sunlight after a lifetime beneath a mountain and scary was another first step, much more recently, this time onto a Greyhound bus.

“fuck it,” Stretch said, aloud. He goosed the throttle, the bike lurching forward into the woods, and the trees swallowed him up.

Only not really, not even close. Stretch really didn’t know what he’d really been expecting. That maybe he’d come across a little gal in a red hood with a picnic basket for grandma heading down the path? Or he’d stumble over some kids with a nasty stepmother backstory on a stroll, scattering breadcrumbs along the way?

Neither of those things came true. (Although if Edge and his roommate lived in a gingerbread house, he was done. He was turning his putt-putt mobile around and heading right out of this fairy tale, tout suite, and into another story. Maybe he’d see if Red’s swashbuckler needed a first mate.)

There was nothing out of the ordinary, not even the creepy vibes that the corn had given him. The woods seemed no different than wandering through the city park in Ebott.

It was a lot cooler here in the woods, not only from the speed breeze. The heavy branches were also shielding him from the overpowering heat of the sun overhead, shading him in cooling green. There were squirrels and birds darting around overhead, unperturbed by his puttering little engine-that-could, and once a deer even crossed the road in front of him, pausing to stare unafraid with large liquid eyes before heading back into the scrubby underbrush.

Hell, if he was honest, Stretch was almost disappointed. Not that he’d wanted anything to happen, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of Red having to make that search party to find his dumb ass.

But after all those warnings, he’d sort of expected something to happen, a little trouble of some kind to be peeking out from behind the trees. Then again, he’d heeded those warnings, hadn’t he, it was always the disobedient types who got turned into frogs or had flower petals spill from their mouths when they talked, wasn’t it. His interest in adventure was definitely on the other side of the scale over his desire not to spit slugs or something, so he was erring on the side of not borrowing trouble.

His disappointment in the woods vanished completely though as he came up on what Red had so quaintly referred to as ‘the farm’.

The dinky path rounded a curve, the trees opening up into a clearing, and Stretch could only stare, dumbly easing down on the throttle until the bike slowed to a stop.

Well, it looked like all his expectations were taking a trip through the funhouse today, now didn’t it.

After seeing Red’s place, he hadn’t really been thinking much about the state of Edge’s homestead, what was there to consider, anyway? It was a cabin in the woods…on a farm…okay, so his logic was a little thin, he hadn’t prepped his anticipation very well on the journey. But whatever he’d imagined paled in comparison to reality.

The actual house looked like a log cabin, sure, but one that took a nibble from Alice’s ‘eat me’ cake. It was huge, with large windows shuttered in green beneath a wide, gabled roof trimmed in scrolling eaves, and a covered porch lined with cozy rocking chairs circling the first floor. Flat stones made a winding walkway that led to the front door and there were flowers lining the path in a riot of brilliant, ankle-high colors. Smoke was curling from the rooftop despite the overall warmth of the day and it scented the air with the welcoming aroma of woodsmoke.

The overall effect was one of one of invitation and Stretch was immediately suspicious of it; not a gingerbread house, no, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a witch inside.

Then the door opened and all the doubts flitting through Stretch’s mind dissolved into impossible static. He could only stare numbly at the person that darted down the path towards him, their hair bouncing beneath their chin as they scampered down the path because it was…it was impossible.

A young human, maybe only a couple years younger than him, and they looked so much like Chara it was downright disturbing, the resemblance taking a detour from possible siblings right into uncanny valley. So much like Chara, only, Chara was just a kid, a kid, and this person who couldn’t be Chara, could not be, but looked as if they’d aged like fine wine since he’d last seen them. Or maybe curdled like old milk.

“Hello, Stretch,” they said, warmly, those familiar eyes shining, and their smile was as bright as the sun that was hidden behind the trees, “Welcome to our home.”

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

[enbeast]

list of Beasts runner five has acquired over the years part 1/???

Lucifur Damsel Lobotsive (pronounced Low-Botss-i've): acquired about four months after the s3 finale. im pretty sure ive made a whole post about her kxjdhd. shes a very beat up black cat that five saved from getting chewed on by zoms and, with help from kefilwe lobotse, nursed back to health. she hates both people and other animals with a fiery passion, except for five who is the only thing she loves in this world, and kefilwe who she more grudgingly likes (kef can pick her up without getting scratched but she will complain the whole time, but will still come up to her for pets)

Pumpkin Pie Heart Emoji: a 5 1/2 inch female orange kneed tarantula (Brachypelma smithi) that five found in a murder victim's house while investigating a distress signal that sam picked up, back in early to mid s2. estimated to be no more than two years old, she could live for another 28 years or so, haunting sam as he watches five let her walk all over them. more docile than is common for her species, grew to 7 inches in the following years. her former owner had a pretty impressive collection of creepy crawlies but most of the rest were handed off to carers and hobbyists, despite five eyeing up several spiders and scorpions. (she was illegally imported by the dude but hey apocalypse. no rules babey)

The Gang (featuring lil jeff, gay bastard, rude butch, fresh boy, mud boy, cucumber succulent, sippy cup, jerald, mosco, michaelangelo, arch angel rockyourshit, chumbus, dermaveen, plastic straw optional, karen, fancy man, brick, coco butter, raw egg, boiled egg, and many more: several of the names given to the many fish runner five traded, was gifted, rescued, and otherwise acquired either shortly before or early s4, see 5facts #4 for details. very spoiled fish who live in a 4x2x2 foot tank filled with all the luxuries that used to be too expensive for five but now lay ignored in petshops and dead hobbyist houses. mostly guppies, mollies, swordtails, and angel fish, plus four bristlenose plecos and a few dozen snails of various species. they live in the councilors office to offer their soothing presence to anyone who needs it

pretty boy: a male flinders range scorpion from the same collection of scary bugs and pumpkin, gleefully acquired in early s7 after the guy who was looking after him contacted five on roflnet to let them know he was getting rid of a few of his bugs due to a new baby on the way that would be taking his office as a nursery so he could only keep what he could comfortably fit in his room. also pretty chill as expected. 97mm long when first acquired

#scorpion #spider #tarantula #orange kneed tarantula #flinders range scorpion #zr #zombies run #5facts #runner 5 #runner five #runners five #sam yao #enbeast's runner 5 #fish #cat #animal abuse mention #five loves arachnids very much #they can and have given pumpkin a lil smoochie #please pray for sam #hes not even that scared of spiders but like #pumpkin is the size of his entire face and is venemous (not too badly its like a beesting but still!) #he likes her but like #please never ask him to hold her #janine tries to keep a leash on pets especially high maintenance onez but five is very good at wearing her down in that regard #one of the few benefits of fives absolutely atrocious mental health #anything that makes them noticeably happy and present is considered as a potentially valuable asset to janine

[pnf-lover98]

Sing fanfic - “The mom living next door”

Ever since I read @pinwheelwhirl 's post with her headcanons about Miss Crawly knowing Buster ever since he was a kid, I've been wanting to try my own hand at writing something for these two. And the moment has finally come!

Here’s the fic!

Summary:

“Have you seen Miss Crawly’s brand new eye?” His father asked him one day, after he came back home from school. Their neighbor, in fact, had recently lost an eye, and now she sported a prosthetic one made of glass that gave her a funny derp look. “I did. She looks fun, it reminds me of a pirate.” A teenage Buster replied, smiling. “I want to write a story with a character just like her. And when I’ll have my theater, we’ll stage the show. I’m sure that everyone is going to love it!”

But rather than a character in a show, Karen ended up becoming a pillar to the theater itself, the only other person that knew the building down to its last brick just like he did.

[Attention, everyone! This fic is going to be an emotional one. You’ve been warned.]

#sing movie #sing 2 #buster moon #sing miss crawly #miss crawly #my writing