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#but where they were these cartoon square dogs from a kids show
matoitech · 2 years
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Promare au but it's all in the Bluey cartoon style
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blueys gay neighbors or whatever ive never seen the show
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strictlyfavorites · 2 years
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Shel Silverstein, poet, singer-songwriter, cartoonist, screenwriter and author of children's books, was born 91 years ago today
Silverstein grew up in the Logan Square neighborhood of Chicago and attended Roosevelt High School. Later, he went the University of Illinois before he was expelled. He then attended Chicago Academy of Fine Arts and Roosevelt University for three years, until 1953 when he was drafted into the Army. He served in Japan and Korea.
Silverstein began drawing at age seven by tracing the works of Al Capp. "When I was a kid — 12 to 14, around there — I would much rather have been a good baseball player or a hit with the girls, but I couldn't play ball. I couldn't dance. Luckily, the girls didn't want me. Not much I could do about that. So I started to draw and to write. I was also lucky that I didn't have anybody to copy, be impressed by,” he told Publisher’s Weekly.
“I had developed my own style. I was creating before I knew there was a Thurber, a Benchley, a Price and a Steinberg. I never saw their work till I was around 30. By the time I got to where I was attracting girls, I was already into work, and it was more important to me. Not that I wouldn't rather make love, but the work has become a habit."
After returning to Chicago, Silverstein began submitting cartoons to magazines while also selling hot dogs at Chicago ballparks. His cartoons began appearing in Look, Sports Illustrated and This Week.
In 1957, Silverstein became one of the leading cartoonists in Playboy, which sent him around the world to create an illustrated travel journal with reports from far-flung locales. During the 1950s and 1960s, he produced 23 installments called "Shel Silverstein Visits..." as a feature for Playboy.
Employing a sketchbook format with typewriter-styled captions, he documented his own experiences at such locations as a New Jersey nudist colony, the Chicago White Sox training camp, San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district, Fire Island, Mexico, London, Paris, Spain and Africa.
Silverstein's passion for music was clear early on as he studied briefly at Chicago College of Performing Arts at Roosevelt University. His musical output included a large catalog of songs — a number of which were hits for other artists, most notably the rock group, Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show.
He wrote Tompall Glaser's highest-charting solo single "Put Another Log on the Fire," "One's on the Way" (a hit for Loretta Lynn) and "25 Minutes to Go," sung by Johnny Cash, about a man on Death Row with each line counting down one minute closer.
Silverstein also wrote one of Johnny Cash's best known hits, "A Boy Named Sue." Other songs co-written by Silverstein include "the Taker" by Waylon Jennings and "On Susan’s Floor” by Gordon Lightfoot and a sequel to "A Boy Named Sue" called: "Father of a Boy Named Sue" which is less known, but he performed the song on television on The Johnny Cash Show.
He also penned a song entitled "F*** 'em" which is lesser known and contained a reference to "f*** children."
Silverstein styled himself as Uncle Shelby in some works. Translated into more than 30 languages, his books have sold over 20 million copies.
On May 10, 1999, Silverstein died at age 68 of a massive heart attack in Key West, Florida.
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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years
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Suga We’re Going Down
part 12
masterlist
Hello, my darlings! I have an update for you!  Please enjoy the drama that will be unfolding in this chapter as well as the chapters to come.--- chaotic puff
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Y/N was grateful for the extra money her new job brought in, but it didn’t make the new found separation with her son any easier.  At least once a weekend she was called away, and it was usually overnight. It was hard on both of them. Eun Jae didn’t understand why his mother was away so much, and she hated seeing him upset. It was why she was taking the time to take him to the park. 
She should have been working on some project or another, but she was much happier watching her son run around the playground with a wide smile on his face. He loved the park, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she didn’t get to take him there more often. Today was a perfect day for it though. It was unseasonably warm, and Eun Jae could run around in a lighter jacket instead of his heavier winter coat which gave the little boy more ease of movement as he dashed around the playground. 
Y/N was lost in her thoughts watching her favorite little guy when she noticed the other moms beginning to whisper amongst themselves. She didn’t pay it much mind though as she assumed it was just the latest neighborhood gossip. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been whispered about before either. She was an unwed mother. It got her plenty of ridicule from the other moms. What was odd was how they had started to gather around, moving closer to where she was. She knew well enough that they weren’t going to suddenly welcome her into the fold, so why were they getting closer? 
“Y/N?” 
She froze knowing who she would see if she turned around and hoping against hope that he would just disappear. He didn’t. 
“What are you doing here?” she hissed running to face him. 
“I just want to see him. Is that so bad?” he asked pasting on the most contrite pair of puppy dog eyes he could manage. 
“Yes!” she cast a quick glance over her shoulder making sure that Eun Jae hadn’t noticed anything yet. He hadn’t. He was blissfully unaware and running around the playground with the other toddlers. “You can’t be here.” 
“I just want to see him. He’s my son.” 
“Kim Taehyung.” she snapped, shooting him a withering glare. “He is not your son, and you need to go.” 
“He’s my kid.” he pleaded, peering around her trying to catch sight of the little boy. “I just want to meet him.” 
“That’s not your decision to make.” she squared her shoulders and did her best to make the same stoic, terrifying face her grandmother made when she was displeased. “You should leave.” 
Taehyung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared her down. Neither of them was willing to budge, but unlike Taehyung, she had paternal rights. “You can’t make me go.” 
“I can call the cops and say that there’s a strange man harassing me and my child.” her head tilted to the side sassily as she waited for him to back down. 
“Like the cops would believe that the heir to Singularity Enterprises was harassing you. I can promise you they won’t.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt him.” 
“Take a look around, Taehyung. You really think you belong here?” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips casting her gaze around her neighborhood. It wasn’t a bad area per say, but it certainly wasn’t what Taehyung was used to, and he stood out like a sore thumb in his designer clothes. They were already attracting the gazes of the other moms. “Eun Jae certainly doesn’t need another parental figure to dip in and out of his life like the utter failure they are. So you want to meet him now? What’s going to happen in a month when you get bored of playing house?” Taehyung stared at her in shock. People didn’t talk to him like this. “Do us all a favor and go.” 
“I’m not going to abandon him.” he protested, recovering himself. “He’s my kid.” 
“Great! Where were you the past three years?” 
“I wasn’t allow…” 
“Don’t.” she scoffed. “You’re a grown man. You could have been here if you wanted to.” 
“I’m here now. I want to meet him.” 
“How is that fair to us?” 
“How is it fair that I don’t get to be a part of his life?” he countered. 
“You signed away your rights before he was even born. He doesn’t know you, and he doesn’t need you.” 
“Every kid needs a father.” 
She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose as she did her best not to yell at the man. “He’s a kid, Taehyung, a baby. He doesn’t need anymore disappointing parental figures. You want to be here now, but what happens when you get a family of your own? Eun Jae is always going to be your teenage indiscretion, but he’s my whole world.” 
“He’s not…” 
Before either of them could continue, a little body smashed into her legs wrapping little arms tightly around them. 
“Swings, eomma!” he demanded staring up at her with a bright smile. 
Both adults were frozen staring down at the little boy. Taehyung was the first to recover, kneeling down to the toddler's height with a bright, boxy grin. 
“Hey, buddy.” he greeted not even phased as Eun Jae retreated hiding behind his mother’s legs as he stared at the stranger with wide eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.” the little boy said nothing, choosing instead to cling to his mother’s legs even tighter than before. “I’m Taehyung.” 
Eun Jae ignored him, pulling on her tunic-like shirt instead. “Swings?” he asked again, staring up at his mother with big pleading eyes. 
“Okay, baby.” she hummed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Let’s go to the swings.” 
The toddler nodded furiously reaching up to grab her hand, tugging her towards the playground. “Swings, eomma, swings!” 
She followed behind her child praying that Taehyung would get the hint and leave. Eun Jae had in typical fashion for the toddler, rejected the stranger preferring the company of his mother, but Taehyung didn’t seem to care as he followed behind them a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Eomma.” Eun Jae tugged on her hand again. “Who’s the weird man?” 
Y/N did her best to suppress the laugh that bubbled up, but she didn’t quite succeed. Instead a choked chuckle like snort erupted. “He’s just a weird man, baby.” 
“I’m a friend of your eomma’s.” Taehyung interrupted catching up to them and addressing the toddler with a smile that just didn’t seem to get any less bright no matter how many times they both rejected him. 
“No you’re not.” he frowned, glaring up at the adult. “Auntie Nina is eomma’s friend.” he explained, his brows scrunched up in confusion. 
“Eomma can have more than one friend.” The look on the kid’s face told them both that he didn’t think so. It was a blank expression that looked far too similar to Taehyung’s for her comfort, and it didn’t escape Taehyung’s notice either. “He kinda looks like me doesn’t he?” He smirked, staring down at the child proudly. 
“No.” Eun Jae frowned. “I look like Eomma. Halmeoni said so. You’re a weird man.” he pouted, once more clinging to his mother’s legs. 
“You can look like more than one person.” Taehyung explained even though Eun Jae only buried his face into her leg. 
“I don’t want swings.” He whined reaching his arms up in a silent plea to be held, and Y/N complied, swinging the toddler up onto her hip where he promptly buried his face in her neck. “I don’t like him. Wanna go home.” 
Y/N gently bounced him on her hip, hushing him as his little fingers clenched her shirt. “You wanna go home, Jae Jae?” She cooed, rubbing his back with her free hand as he nodded into her neck. “Okay, baby. Let’s go home.” 
“Y/N.” Taehyung called out, reaching for her as she began to walk away.
“I think you’ve done enough for one day.” She hissed, tightening her grip on her child. “Don’t you?” 
She strode away, hyper aware of the stares of both Taehyung and the other mothers as she did. This was going to be the talk of the playground for at least a week or two, and Y/N wasn’t looking forward to the invasive questions she would get asked the next time she and Eun Jae went there. 
Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but she moved more quickly than she would have normally as she took her son home. She was rattled. As much as she hated to admit it, she was rattled. She didn’t like Taehyung showing up in her neighborhood, at her park. She didn’t like the fact that he ignored her wishes and met Eun Jae. 
If she had wanted them to meet, she would have prepared. She would have explained things to the toddler. She would have arranged things so that they were in a safe and comfortable place for both her and Eun Jae. She certainly wouldn’t have suggested he ambush them at the park. 
The fact of the matter was that she  was Eun Jae’s mother, and she was the only one that had parental rights. Ha Jin didn’t, and Taehyung certainly didn’t. He didn’t get to decide what was best for Eun Jae. He didn’t get to show up on a whim. He didn’t get to uproot their lives because he suddenly decided he wanted to be part of the life of a child he couldn’t have given a shit about until he ran into her the week before. 
“Eomma?” Eun Jae asked as she unlocked the door to her apartment. 
“Yeah, baby?” 
“Pororo?” 
“Sure, buddy.” She agreed, kicking off her shoes and shutting the door behind them, before taking off Eu Jae’s shoes as well. 
The toddler was quick to run into the apartment and settle himself in front of her small television as she put on the cartoon for him. It was one of his favorites, and she couldn’t blame him. The penguin was pretty cute. 
“Eomma?” he called as she went to the kitchen to get a snack for him. 
“Yeah, buddy?” 
“Cuddles?” he pleaded, staring at her with big puppy dog eyes. 
She smiled, handing him a little bowl of dried mango slices. “Sure, buddy. Eomma just has to make a quick phone call first. Okay?” 
He nodded, flopping back down with his snack as he turned his attention to the cartoon penguin and his dinosaur friend. 
Y/N moved back to the kitchen pulling out her phone as she considered what she was going to tell Yoongi. She was meant to go to his concert, but she didn’t feel right leaving Eun Jae, not after what had happened at the park. Part of her was terrified that Taehyung was going to show up while she was gone and take him away. 
“Angel?” Yoongi’s raspy voice asked from the other end of the line.
“Hi.” She sighed out shakily. Yoongi was quick to pick up on it. Nothing ever seemed to slip past him.
“Is everything alright?” Concern colored his tone, and she could hear people moving around in the background. 
Part of her felt bad for calling when she knew he was busy preparing for his concert, but Eun Jae had to come first. He always had to come first. “I’m so sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it to the concert.” 
There was a drawn out pause, and she could practically see the scowl on his face. 
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, voice lowering into a growl. “Are you alright? I can send Jackson…” 
“No!” she was quick to stop him. “No. I’m just not feeling well. I just need to stay home and rest.” 
It was a lie, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 
“Are you alright? Do you have a fever? Do you need to go to the doctor?” he demanded, and she was half convinced he was going to come to see her himself if she didn’t cut him off soon. “I’ll send Jackson over to take you to the doctor. I’ll set up an appointment…”
“That’s really not necessary. I just need to rest. I’ll be fine in a day or two.” she promised, knowing full well she was perfectly fine now. 
“Are you sure?” 
“I’m sure. I’m sorry for missing your concert.” 
“Just get better.” he sighed heavily. “You can come to the next one.” 
“Thank you.” 
“If you need anything, call.” 
“I’ll be fine.” 
She hung up shortly after not knowing the mayhem she had caused for Yoongi’s staff. The mixture of her cancellation and worry for her health had put the rapper into a horrible mood. A worried Yoongi wasn’t a pleasant Yoongi.
part 13
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edasnest · 3 years
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Might you have any Raeda headcanons you'd be willing to share?
Oh shit I didn’t see that you sent this to me until now oh man.
But you better believe I’ve got some Raeda headcanons >:D
[Spoilers for Eda’s Requiem and Knock Knock Knockin on Hooty’s Door! Also a little bit of a character study regarding those eps lol]
Raine is constantly in awe of Eda. Eda’s desire to learn every kind of magic and buck tradition and societal norms sometimes leaves them breathless. When they were young, Raine always admired Eda for the clever pranks she’d pull using different kinds of magic despite being in the potions track. They also admired Eda’s boldness when it came to standing up for herself and her sister.
Eda found Raine to be interesting considering they were in the bard track despite their stage fright, but once Eda watched them perform and saw how they’d lose themself in the music was, no pun intended, magical. They had a fierce grip on Eda’s heart and she didn’t know why; she was fascinated by Raine and made it her goal to be best friends with this oddly shy bard (which she achieved pretty quickly).
After Eda’s curse caused her to unintentionally disable her dad, she was terrified of what it would mean if she was caught off guard like that again. So she started putting up walls. No stressful situations, no hard conversations, no sudden bright lights or loud sounds that she wasn’t the cause of. If she could be in control of her surroundings, she could control the Owl Beast. The elixir she’d discovered that could keep the curse’s side effects at bay helped maintain her sanity and her chill demeanor, but Raine was able to tell she was always slightly on edge. Raine knew about the curse; after Eda had transformed on the Grudgby field the first time everyone had been talking about it, but they didn’t know the extent of it. Everyone just said she’d turned into a monster and then fled; but what kind of monster?? But every time Raine tried to get more information about it, Eda would brush it off and change the subject. It broke their heart watching Eda brush off something that was clearly bothering her, and eventually it all came to a head. She was lying more and more often to Raine and they just couldn’t take it anymore. What happened to their best friend??? Why would she lie to them????? It was maddening and all the frustration and aching in their heart became too much. They needed to focus on something other than Eda. They weren’t nearly as bold as Eda, even after all these years, so they joined the Bard Coven in order to start teaching and building a career for themself. They’d happily welcome Eda back if she’d just tell them what was going on. But it never happened. Burying themself into their work and then, eventually, into the BAtTs helped keep the heartache at bay, but only sometimes.
Eda and Raine caught glimpses of each other as the years passed. They’d spot one another in the market or Raine would see a flash of unmistakable ginger hair dashing around a corner; sometimes they’d hear Eda yelling at some Coven guards and quietly hope she’d make her escape. Eda would occasionally see posters advertising a performance starring Raine; she’d either buy a ticket or sneak in just to listen to them play again. She could never stay for very long though because listening to them play made her heart hurt so much she’d be at risk of turning into the Owl Beast. Raine grabbed one of Eda’s wanted posters and keeps it hidden under some other paperwork in their desk, pulling it out sometimes and going over every detail of the artist’s rendition of her. One day, a new wanted poster came out - this one with a weird skull dog now part of the image and the bounty having increased significantly. Raine would always smirk whenever they saw the new version, although they were alarmed the first time they saw her drawn with all-grey hair. When had that happened? They weren’t that old yet, right??
The day Eda saved the BAtTs and figured out Raine’s secret was maybe the best day Raine had had in years. Their best friend was talking to them again, helping them with their plot. Raine didn’t bother pushing Eda about the last 20 years; their last conversation proved enough that Eda didn’t like it when people pried. But Eda had become not just older, but so much more kind and open. To a degree that sort of shocked Raine. When they asked Eda if she had nothing to lose and Eda took their hand, it was like they’d gone back in time. As if they were both 20 again and daydreaming about a world they’d create for themselves where covens weren’t there to shackle witches down and stage fright didn’t exist; where Eda’s curse never happened and they could stay there on that hill forever.
Eda of course was warring with her own emotions during all of this; she was under the impression that everyone in her life was leaving her again. And not because she was pushing them away this time, but of their own volition. She got her big sister back only for her to go back home to their parents after just a few weeks. She overheard King talk about leaving to find his dad and her apprentice - the first person to ever break down all of Eda’s defenses and show her how to love again - was constantly working on ways to go back to her own home. Eda would be left with Hooty and Owlbert and absolutely nobody else and that hurt so much more than she cared to admit. So when Raine showed up in the town square with their BAtT mask on, using their magic to turn some coven guards into bumbling fools, Eda was a little shell-shocked. The first person to leave her of their own volition was right there in front of her and needed help. So she helped them. And when she became invested in their plots to free wild witches, she felt like she was a teenager again, plotting out pranks with Raine in her secret shortcuts room at Hexside, blushing at every interaction they had because even after all this time, Raine was still Raine. Her Rainstorm. It was like she was starting over, like the last 20 years had faded away, except they hadn’t. Because Luz and King were competing in a race that she needed to be there for. Her past and her present were all different types of painful but finding Raine like this again gave her so much hope! Until she realized she wouldn’t see the end of that race, not if it meant stopping Belos. And she was ready for that, ready for the pain to just stop already, but Raine wouldn’t let her.
Losing Raine again was so much worse the second time. But what they said stayed with her and Eda needed to get back to King and Luz. So when she got back and discovered they’d lost, of course her first thought was to help them. Anything to take her mind off of what she’d just lost. And when King announced that he wasn’t leaving at all, he was legally changing his name? She was “stuck” with him forever? That was too much and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Someone wasn’t leaving her. In fact he was legally binding himself to her. No one was leaving, at least not any time soon. Eda definitely still cried more that night after King and Luz had gone to bed.
In the future, Eda and Raine agree to start from scratch: Eda explains the curse to them in detail, all the things she’s learned about it over the years and specifically with Luz and King and Hooty’s help. She explains that Lilith was the one that gave it to her to begin with and why (Raine is appalled like???? Raine specifically worked with Lilith in that last year before they had been made head of the Bard Coven?? And Lilith showed maybe irritation at best at the mention of Eda, so like?? What the fuck???). Eda also explains how she’s come to accept the curse as something that’s part of her and the history the Owl Beast has that she got a glimpse of which is super intriguing to Raine. Also Harpy Eda was a thing which was maybe the most surprising part of it all.
Raine in the meantime tells Eda about their time working their way up the ranks of the Bard Coven, how they met each of the BAtTs and recruited them, the façade they had to maintain to stay on track to become the head of the Bard Coven (something that greatly impressed Eda given Raine’s history with being an awkward actor).
Eda introduces Raine to Luz and King to which both of them start shooting rapidfire questions at them and overwhelm them pretty quickly. Eda has to shoo the two away before Raine just bursts out laughing, saying something about how they’re definitely Eda’s kids (all of them blush while Raine is laughing). Luz is just as fascinated with Raine’s Bard magic as Eda was when they first met and the similarities between the two are striking. Raine tells Eda as much later on and Eda begins gushing about what a great apprentice Luz is and everything she’s done during her time on the Boiling Isles.
They fall easily back into dating once they reconnect properly and everything’s calmed down a little - Raine will still be humming a piece they’re working on and suddenly grab Eda and begin dancing to the tune, Eda laughing the whole time and making their heart soar. Eda will still play with Raine’s earring when they’re cuddled up together just chatting. Raine will start asking Eda again for her opinion on musical pieces they’re working on and Eda will make suggestions along with some jokes or snide commentary. They both still love watching the clouds overhead on their hill, sometimes playing music, sometimes just holding hands.
Raine loves watching Eda interact with Luz and King. They love watching how easily Eda loves them and how much she’s changed since they first broke up. Once they’re alone together, in a moment total admiration for how far they’ve come, Raine tells Eda they love her. Eda immediately kisses them and starts crying, repeating Raine’s words back to them and mumbling about how she’ll never let Raine leave ever again.
A canon Non-binary love interest to a main character that uses They/Them pronouns??? In my kids cartoon???? It’s more likely than you think.
Anyways I fucking love Raine and I love how much Eda and Raine love each other and I can’t wait to see what ends up happening with Them™️
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ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3
--
It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.
“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.
Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.
He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.
Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.
Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”
Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.
“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”
Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”
Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”
“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”
Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”
Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”
Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”
Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”
Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”
Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…
“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”
Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.
“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.
“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”
Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”
Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”
“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”
Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”
Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”
Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”
Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”
Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”
Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”
Ian smirked. “Green?”
“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.
Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”
Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”
Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”
Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”
“Sounds easy enough.”
Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.
When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.
Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.
“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”
Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.
Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”
“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”
Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…
As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.
Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”
The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”
Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.
Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”
Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”
Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”
Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.
A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.
Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.
“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”
Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”
Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”
“Yup.”
Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”
“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.
Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”
Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.
But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.
By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
part two here!
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mallowstep · 3 years
Text
(hand games on the playground court)
"Bubblegum, bubblegum in a dish, how many pieces do you wish?"
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11-
"Alright, Featherpaw, you take my place."
* * *
"Where are we going?"
Mistyfoot glances back over her shoulder. "We're going on a little walk."
"But it's dark."
Stonefur meets her eyes. If they get caught taking the kids out, they'll be separated, and then they have no hope of protecting them.
"I know," Mistyfoot says. "It'll be fun. A little adventure."
She squeezes Featherpaw's hand a little tighter, and they cross over the road, making it deeper into the woods. Stonefur fiddles with the cellphone he picked up last time he was in town. They've waited months for a chance to use it.
Stormpaw grabs a twig, dragging it through the dirt, and Featherpaw twists a finger through her hair.
"Hey," Stonefur says. "Yeah, yeah it's me. We're alright, I've got the kids."
Stonefur crouches down, smiling at Featherpaw and Stormpaw. "I've got your dad on the phone," he says, pressing a few buttons. "Okay, Greystripe, you're on speaker."
"Hey, kiddos," Greystripe says. "How are you doing?"
Stonefur passes the phone to Stormpaw, and the kids chatter on about their days. Stonefur stands next to Mistyfoot, and she rests her head on his shoulder.
"I'm running out of cash," he says, his voice low to avoid the kids' attention. "This might be their last call."
"I'll see what I can find," Mistyfoot says. "We should..."
What should they do? Leopardstar has custody of the kids. They can't take them to Greystripe without getting dragged back here.
Stonefur puts his arm around her shoulders. "We'll figure it out," he says.
On the way back, Mistyfoot reminds the kids that this has to be their secret. They don't ask why.
* * *
Stormpaw hits the ball away from him, watching it bounce twice in the square next to him.
"You're out!" he calls, and they all rotate squares.
"Your serve," someone says. Stormpaw smiles. He doubts he'll be knocked out before recess is over.
* * *
Stonefur taps on the window to the kids' room. Stormpaw opens the window, looking confused.
"Stonefur?"
"Shh," Stonefur hushes. "Quiet, okay?"
"What are you doing here? Tigerstar said you went missing."
"Yeah, I know." Stonefur takes a deep breath. "Where's your sister?"
"I dunno. Mistyfoot took her somewhere."
Fuck. He doesn't know what his sister has planned, but he can't wait for them to get back. He's sure he's already tripped an alarm, and it's only a matter of time before someone finds him.
"Okay," he says, "You and me are going to go on an adventure, okay?"
Stormpaw looks hesitant.
"It'll be fun," Stonefur soothes. "Come on, you get to climb out a window. Isn't that fun?"
Stormpaw clambers out, and Stonefur grabs him. He's too big to carry comfortably, but too young to walk fast enough to make it out. "Piggy back ride, okay?"
"I can walk."
"I know." Stonefur shifts Stormpaw, and closes the window as best he can as Stormpaw wraps his legs and arms around him. His heel kicks into the gouge in his side, but Stonefur does his best not to react.
"Where are we going?" Stormpaw asks, as he treks towards town, turning back over his shoulder every couple of minutes.
"We're going to live with your dad," Stonefur says.
"What about Featherpaw?"
Stonefur adjusts Stormpaw, wrapping his arms under Stormpaw's knees. "I'll go back for her once we get to Greystripe," Stonefur says.
He walks until noon of the next day. They're in a new town, and he forks up enough cash to get them a motel room. Stormpaw's head is resting on his shoulder, and he slides the kid into the bed as gently as he can. Hopefully, he can run to a gas station and back before Stormpaw wakes.
The attendant examines his purchases. Stonefur doesn't have cash to waste on hiding what he's doing. A bottle of rubbing alcohol, sewing kit, and a new burner phone. He's lucky he's wearing a jacket, because he's sure his shirt has been soaked with blood.
Stormpaw wakes when Stonefur opens the door.
"Hey, buddy," he says. "Sleep well?"
"I'm hungry," Stormpaw says.
"I know. I need a minute, and then we'll see if we can't scrounge up something for you to eat."
Stonefur shuts the bathroom door and starts the sink. His side is angry and red, and this is going to hurt like hell.
He doubles numbers in his head, high as he can keep track of, as he cleans it out and stitches it shut. It's not a good job, but he can't afford a doctor.
Stormpaw is fiddling with the TV when he opens the door. He looks at the shoddy stitches. "You should see a doctor."
"I'll be fine," Stonefur says. "Just a second, and then we'll find some food." He dials Greystripe's number. It's been nearly six months since they last called him. "Greystripe, it's me."
"Stonefur?"
"Yeah. Listen, I can't talk for long, but me and Stormpaw are on our way to you."
"What happened? What about Featherpaw?"
Stormpaw hangs upside down off the bed, mouthing along to the theme song of some children's cartoon. Stonefur is surprised he remembers seeing it.
"I didn't have time to get her. It was one or none." Stonefur runs his hand through his hair. He must look half wild. He'll have to clean them both up before they leave, if they want any hope of not attracting attention. "We won't be there for a while. Maybe a few months."
"I can come to you," Greystripe says. "Where are you? Do you need anything?"
"I don't have an ID, I don't have a bank account, and we've gotta keep moving," Stonefur says. "We'll be fine. You're at the same address?"
"Yeah. Can I talk to Stormpaw?"
"Yeah. But listen -- Mistyfoot will take care of Featherpaw. I wouldn't have left her if she would be alone."
"I know." Greystripe is frustrated, angry, even, and Stonefur can't blame him. "Keep in contact, okay?"
"Yeah. Don't talk for too long. I only have so many minutes."
* * *
Tawnypaw is jumping.
"For all have sinned and fall short in the glory of God," they chant, Tawnypaw jumping on every other syllable.
It's fall, and they're not back in school. Tigerstar says it's a bad influence and probably why Stormpaw left and he won't risk any more children being corrupted.
* * *
Maybe Mistyfoot should be more surprised when she's moved into a new room with Featherpaw. But it feels par for the course. Tigerstar has been livid ever since Stormpaw and Stonefur ran (or since Stonefur died, he keeps changing the story and Mistyfoot isn't sure which one is true), and cramming them in a windowless barely-more-than-a-closet feels about right.
Featherpaw is seemingly unbothered.
"He's isolating us," she explains. ""Cause our brothers were bad so we're probably bad so he doesn't want it to spread."
Mistyfoot cradles Featherpaw against her. "We're not bad," she says. "Our brothers aren't either." She runs her hand through Featherpaw's hair. It's tangled, but she doesn't have a brush.
"Tigerstar says we are," Featherpaw says. "Says we need to do a penance-" she slows down over that word, like she is making sure she has the right pronunciation "-so that our souls will be clean again."
Mistyfoot kisses the top of Featherpaw's head. "We don't need to do anything," she says. "Tigerstar doesn't know what he's talking about."
Featherpaw shrugs, like she doesn't want to argue but still thinks Mistyfoot is wrong. "He didn't let me bring my book," she says, her nose scrunching. "I was in the middle of a chapter."
* * *
"Last piece of cake," Stonefur says. "Who gets it?"
It's Stormpaw's tenth birthday. He hasn't celebrated his birthday since he was five, but Stonefur brought a cake back to their room and said they were celebrating this year.
"We should...thumb wrestle over it."
Stonefur smiles, but Stormpaw is pretty sure Stonefur lets him win. But Stormpaw doesn't touch the piece of cake.
"You won," Stonefur says, "don't you want it?"
"It's Featherpaw's birthday too," Stormpaw says.
Stonefur's jaw tightens, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. He rubs Stormpaw's shoulder.
* * *
Stonefur steals a car in late December. It's too cold to walk, and they're both exhausted, and he doesn't have the money he needs to buy one.
He'd be ashamed, but he doesn't have another choice. Stormpaw sits in the passenger seat, even though he's definitely too young for that, and Stonefur passes him a map.
"Ready, navigator?"
"Ready."
* * *
"Concentration!" Featherpaw says, "sixty-four!"
Mistyfoot doesn't know any games, so Featherpaw is teaching her all the ones she knows. Tigerstar hasn't let her go back for her book, or let her take any of the worksheets they've been doing back to their room, and Featherpaw doesn't have a long enough piece of string to do a cat's cradle. "I go first, you follow." Mistyfoot is watching Featherpaw carefully, but she's doing the motion fine. This is an easy game, anyway. There's nothing going on. It's mostly about the words.
"Category is...animals."
Mistyfoot smiles.
"Sheep."
"Mouse."
"Cow."
"Dog."
"Cat."
Someone bangs on the door. "Will the two of you shut up?"
* * *
Tigerstar places his hand on the small of her back.
"I hope you're doing well, Mistyfoot. I'm sure it's been hard, losing your brother like that."
Tigerstar sighs, using his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. "It just goes to show you, you never can be sure about who's loyal."
* * *
That summer, Stormpaw draws a hopscotch grid on the driveway. Greystripe has bought him chalk, and markers, and a new backpack and more than the two sets of clothes he had been washing out in bathroom sinks.
"There aren't really any neighbourhood kids to play with," Greystripe says, "but if you're okay with winning all the time, I'll play."
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mail-me-a-snail · 4 years
Text
Put on a Show
my first jse fic, in where anti teaches dear jackieboy man a lesson :3
Be a hero.
That’s what Jack had said to him, before…before the incident, before all of this. Before that son of a bitch Anti got to him.
It boils his blood and makes him gnash his teeth at night. As much as he hates Anti… …he can’t deliver the final blow. He has Anti pinned by the front of his shirt against the brick wall of the alleyway. Anti’s hair is ruffled and sticking up in all sorts of places. With some sort of sick sadness, the hero sees Jack in him, most of all in his blue-grey eyes, instead of monstrous black pools and tears. Even the slit on his neck isn’t bleeding black—it’s red. As if he’s human. As if he’s Jack. It’s not the only thing that’s bleeding red. Anti’s nose is bleeding, thick trails of blood dripping from his nostrils into his lips and soaking into his beard. Anti’s fangs are splashed with his own blood. Still, he smiles. Bruises black and blue dot his face and has swollen one of his eyes a dark purple. Jackie feels just as beat up as Anti looks—the knife slashes scoring his arms and back like tallies sting like hell. His fist is pulled back to wipe the smug grin off of Anti’s face but he just can’t do it. “C'mon, hero,” Anti sneers, coughing. Jackie’s fist curls tighter around Anti’s shirt. It’s black; no one will see the blood. “Take the shot.” Anti raises a mockingly frail hand and points at his chin. “Right here.” Jackie sucks in a breath through his clamped teeth. His own fist shakes. Why can’t he do it? Anti is right there. This isn’t different from all the other times. And that, right there, is why he can’t do it. Because it is the same process, the same cat and mouse game that they always play. The same bridges that are built then burned with a crowd to cheer for the winning side. But there isn’t a crowd now. In this dank, dirty, rat-infested alleyway, it is just him and Anti. So, take the shot, He yells at himself. But he can’t. “Why?” He manages to growl, more to himself than Anti. Anti tips his head and frowns. A bead of blood drops onto his cheek from a gash in his forehead. “Why what?” He says. “Why is it always the same damn game with you?” Jackie narrows his brows. “Day in, day out—you come out of hiding, act like some kind of big bad, and we fight while the crowd eggs us on. I never leave these fights with debilitating wounds. I rarely get hurt. Why? It’s like—it’s like this is all it is to you, this war between us. Like you never tried to hurt my brothers—” Jackie unconsciously lifts Anti a little higher off the ground. The demon looks pleased. “—like you never tried to fucking kill Henrik, or Chase, or Jack—” His voice elevates into a shout. “—so, why do you think this is a game?!” It’s only when the still silence that follows settles in that he realizes he had been shouting. Anti’s collar is still bundled up in his fist. He’s nearly ripping the fabric out. “The game only stops,” Anti isn’t smiling as he says, “when one of us is dead. I’m not interested in killing you, Jackie. You’re a comic book superhero—a try-hard with big dreams. You needed a villain. A villain who could be the big bad, who could never cause any real harm…at least, not to the city. So, I reeled it in. Just for you.” “…what?” “You’d never be able to handle what I can really do,” Anti sneers, “You’re a super hero without super powers—of course, the crowd doesn’t know that. The kids…they love you. They think you can do so many wonderful things…things that I do for you.” “I don’t…” “Come on, Jackie. You think I can bleed?” Anti wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it’s like the blood was never there. His bruises have faded away. His black eye is healed, the skin around it pink. “I’m not human—never have been. Never will be. They—” He throws his hand towards the street. “—know as much. They see me as the villain. The Saturday morning cartoon bad guy. And you’re the titular character.” “Shut up.” “It’s a show to them.” “Shut up.” He can hear the blood rushing through his ears. Every wound fades. “It’s all a ploy—” “Shut up.” “—because without me, they wouldn’t fucking believe in you the way Jack does—” “I SAID, SHUT UP.” His fist vaults forward. His breathing is ragged. He expects blood under his knuckles—but finds Anti gripping his fist like it’s nothing. Jackie’s hand shakes with the effort. He’s pushing with all his might but Anti isn’t budging. He isn’t the frail, beaten victim of justice he was just a few seconds ago. Jackie sees this in the way Anti suddenly straightens, the way the crusted blood under his fingernails disappears. Anti pulls back his fist and strikes Jackie. The hit connects and lands square on Jackie’s jaw, making him see stars. He shakes his head and loses his grip on Anti. The other sidesteps out of his range and grabs the front of his jacket, forcibly spinning him around. He head-butts him, a wild grin on his face. Jackie’s head snaps back from the force of it and he stumbles backwards, trying to stop the warm blood gushing from his forehead. He coughs. “That’s no way to play, hero,” Anti taunts him from behind. “What if all your fans were watching? You can’t let them see you lose.” He growls and whips around. The moment he does, Anti grabs his throat, rough nails digging in and leaving angry half-moon marks in the soft skin, and pushes him against the opposite wall of bricks. The back of Jackie’s head nearly smashes into them—he throws his head forward just in time to avoid the worst of the impact, but it still sends a shock down his spine. He can’t think much, can’t see much, either. Anti’s hold tightens and he gasps for air. His hand instinctively grabs Anti’s wrist, pulling and scratching, nearly begging. He’s about to break out of his hold when— The hero doesn’t even have enough breath to cry out when a sharp, hot pain erupts in his stomach. He jolts, hands jerking and teeth clamping down. Anti jostles the knife, just to toy with him. He can hear the other end grinding against the bricks. The demon leans close, so close Jackie can feel his beard tickle the shell of his ear. “This is why we put on a show, Jackieboy,” Anti whispers. Jackie flinches, wheezing. “You couldn’t kill me if you tried, not like this. So, at the end of the day, you win and I crawl back to whatever cesspit I came from, wherever they think I came from. The crowd wouldn’t like it if they saw you like this. Bleeding, broken…” Anti leans back. His grip on Jackie’s throat is iron tight. He smiles, and for a moment—it might be his concussion but—the scleras of his eyes turn pitch black, then flash again to white. Anti brushes the hair out of Jackie’s face, a motion so tender for a moment, for a stupid, vulnerable moment, that he wheezes, “J…Jack.” “That’s right,” Anti laughs. His voice dips into a perfect impersonation of Jack. “I’m Jack. I believe in you. You’re a hero to everybody, but most importantly, to me…bla, bla, bla.” The knife slides out of Jackie’s gut, a sickly slick accompanying it and a resulting gush of blood down his leg. Jackie squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t be like that,” Anti’s voice comes from somewhere in the darkness. “Give us a smile, Jackie. You’re our hero.” He refuses. The silence is deafening. He feels Anti’s thumb rubbing against his Adam’s apple, before his hand caresses Jackie’s cheek, the limb cold against it. He could breathe again. He took the time to take a few slow breaths. Jackie opens his eyes. He glares daggers and spits blood onto the Anti’s cheek. His smile never wavers, even as the blood drips down his chin and onto his shirt. “You’re forgetting your place in our game. You’re the hero, the one who wins…and I’m the bad guy, the bleeding baddie. This won’t do at all. How about this: a little something from me to you—a time out, if you will.” “Fuck. You.” Is all he can manage. His vision is starting blacken around the edges. The knife’s tip presses into his neck. Anti forces his head up with his other hand, his fingers digging into the side of Jackie’s temple and his thumb pushing against his lips. Jackie gnashes his teeth and has half a mind to bite Anti’s hand like a dog— The knife slides across his neck in one smooth motion, like cutting through paper. He had only ever seen the after effects of a slit neck—the blood, the loss of voice. Never had he realized that blood would bubble in his mouth, dribbling down thick as spit, nor that the pain would be like a tight wire cord was being wrapped around his neck and pulled taut. He slides to the grimy floor, grasping his neck, wheezing and coughing. Everything is tinged red. He sees Anti’s black Converse at the edge of his vision, one shoe tapping as if impatiently waiting for him to die. “Crawl back to your precious doctor,” Anti leans down and suddenly grabs his hair, pulling his head up to look at him. Jackie squints, the sunlight hurting his eyes. “And think about what you’ve done.” Anti lets him go. His head drops and so does he, breath slowing, bleeding out. The scarlet from his neck grows into a puddle beneath him. Anti starts to walk away, leaving bloody footprints behind him. Jackie’s shaking hand reaches out to him, but drops limply. The blood splashes. “When you come back…” Anti’s voice starts to fade away, as did everything, into darkness. “…let’s put on a show.”
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inugirl · 5 years
Text
I’ve been working on this since forever. Taking my much needed time since I don’t write as often as I’d like to. But I have had the fist chapter done for a while. I’d just like to get ahead and work on the other ones. Anyways, I thought I’d post it here for White Day since it’s a good opportunity to. @inuyasha-valentines
Fanfiction: Inuyasha
Rating: M (for language, future violence and drugs)
I’m not exactly sure what to call it yet, I’m thinking
Mistaken Identity
Kagome gets mistaken by the mysterious half-demon, Inuyasha, as the woman he was supposed to chauffeur to the big boss’s restaurant to discuss certain business. The stubborn dog ends up making matters only worse for himself, and Kagome.
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~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~
She would have thought that her life couldn’t get any more strange. Not to say that it was strange to begin with. She was just an average Japanese college student trying to get her degree. She wanted to make a name for herself as a reliable pediatrician. She wasn’t currently dating and worked part time at a coffee shop to not rely on her mother as much. That’s all. Nothing made her different than others so for the life of her she had no idea how she ended up in this mess. After all, she only wanted to go to the library to return a book.
“Look, I don’t have time for this.” Kagome, a first year in university expressed. “I just need to return these books in that slot over there.” She pointed to the wall of the library the stranger was leaning on, a return slot for books after hours. She wasn’t sure what to think. Was he some pervert? A part of the Yakuza? She quickly glanced down at her attire, worried that it might have sent some unwanted attention. A simple halter blue dress that ended just above her knees, brown flats and her small yellow side purse. Her ink black hair was down and wavy and she wore little make up. All Kagome could do was wonder how her clothing was asking for trouble. She looked back at him, defiance in her eyes. ‘I will not let him have his way.’
“Look, you’re taking this cosplay thing to a whole different level if you start harassing people just for fun. This isn’t funny.” Kagome spoke loudly to him and prayed she sounded as serious and intimidating as she thought she did.
Although the mysterious man before her was leaning against a wall, he was obviously tall. His strange yet attractive long white hair complemented his slightly tanned tone against the black and white suit he was wearing; his muscular build noticeable. His eyes were a hypnotizing amber gold and ears that resembled that of a dogs were perched atop his head. Kagome was indeed in fear for her safety, but the attractiveness this man gave, she had an odd fantasy of following him.
With a malicious fanged grin plastering his face, he stayed in his spot, leaned against the very wall she was pointing at.
“Look here girl, I was sent to get you okay? It’s not my fault if you didn’t get the memo.” His clawed hands made their way to the air, in a sort of ‘I don’t care’ maneuver.
Kagome could only glare at the man before her. Her blue-gray eyes trying to pierce through this odd persona.
‘I swear, this is like some plot of a dumb show or something. It’s not like everyday a handsome man with animalistic qualities bumps into you…the eyes could easily be contacts...some really well made contacts, and his hair could be professionally dyed or a wig...but those ears on top of his head, they just flicked like a dog’s...how did he do that…’
Realizing that she’d been silent for a little too long she squared her shoulders and lifted her head to keep her aggressive front.
“And just who sent you?”
The odd man simply rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of the wall.
“Don’t be stupid. Come on, we don’t have time for this.” He walked towards Kagome, reaching for her arm. “You of all people should know he isn’t a patient man.”
“Stop! Don’t touch me! Get away!” She flinched back walking backwards as fast as she could without tripping, keeping her eyes trained on the man. He looked surprised and then angry.
“Look. We don’t have time for this shit. Naraku sent me to get you and now you’re backing down on a meeting you called for?” He looked very angry indeed. His thick black eyebrows, which beautifully contrasted his hair, furrowed deeply, the grin he had a while ago replaced with a scowl.
“Naraku…who? I don’t know a Naraku! I didn’t call for a meeting! I’m just a college student! Just let me be that!” Kagome screamed at him. She looked around frantically, trying to find anyone to help her. It was dark out, but only nearing nine thirty at night. The summer months would be arriving soon. How could there be no people nearby? Not even a security guard!
‘I don’t need some ridiculous cartoon adventure! My life is stressful enough as it is! I’m already late turning in this book!’ Kagome quickly looked to the strange yet impossibly gorgeous man before her, then down to her book in her hand. ‘Crap! This is exactly like a plot to a kid’s show!’
“This is a prank show, isn’t it? I’m being pranked in some outrageous prank show. It has to be, right?” Kagome’s chest heaved deeply with every word. She dropped her books, now forgotten she placed her free hands to her chest. She was having a hard time breathing. Her chest was starting to hurt and with every breath she took, she felt like she was missing it somehow.
Falling to her knees Kagome did little to get away from the fastly approaching stranger. He kneeled in front of her, his anger now gone. He looked confused and worried, his ears going flat against his head. He reached out again for her, only slower. Kagome tried to scramble away from him, her hand still to her chest while the other aided her rear against the ground.
“No. Please.” Kagome heaved, sweat was covering her flushed face and her blue-gray eyes holding unfallen tears. She closed her eyes to focus on her breathing, the pooled tears finally falling. ‘One, two, three. One, two, three.’ Her eyes still closed, Kagome felt the man grab her arms. His hands were rough, but his touch wasn’t. His cool hands were welcoming against her ever growing hot skin.
“Hey come on, what’s going on? What’s happening?” He was confused, she was yelling at him like she didn’t know what was going on. Did he really have the wrong girl? He continued to watch her struggle for air. He adjusted himself to her. Kneeling behind her to keep her sitting up and held her shoulders.
The man lowly uttered a growl of annoyance. Noticing her purse he reached into it, grabbing out her wallet and taking out her identification card.
There it was, Kagome Higurashi, 24 years old.
“Fuck. I do have the wrong girl.” He put the ID card down and held her again, examining her closer than he was able to before. She continued to exhale heavy and long breaths and her skin felt hot to his touch. Looking down he noticed her staring up at him. Her eyes were dark, she was looking through her thick lashes and he was staring back.
“I’m,” her voice horsley low, “I’m so sore.” Kagome tried to hug her arms around herself but failed. “I’m so tired.” She closed her eyes and let her exhaustion take over, her body limp in his grasp and her breathing evening out.
“Oh fuck me. I really screwed up.” Growling to himself, the handsome stranger looked back at her ID card for her address. Rolling his eyes he put her items back in her purse and closed it. Gently, he picked her up in his arms. Her own arms falling limp to her exposed side while the other half was warmly close against him. Looking around him to make sure he had all of her things he noticed her fallen book.
‘She said she wanted to return it to the library.’ He looked back to the wall he was leaning on only a few meters away. ‘Well, it’s the least I could do I guess.’
Carefully, he placed her back on the floor and picked up her book to return it. He put the book through the return slot and laid his head against the cold brick wall. He let out an annoyed sighed.
“How did I fuck up this badly?” He eyed the unconscious girl on the ground. Now understanding that she wasn’t the girl he was looking for she looked so vulnerable on the ground. ‘And that’s my fault. I freaked her out so much I gave her a damn panic attack.’ The man winced to himself and made his way to Kagome. Picking her off the ground again he lifted her in his arms with ease and began walking the way she came from.
‘I’m gonna fucking hear it now too. ‘Stupid Inuyasha, you had one job! Good for nothing half-breed!’ ’ Inuyasha mentally mimicked his higher ups already knowing what was going to be said when he came back from his failed mission.
“I can’t let them know about her though, they may try to kill her if they know she saw me outside of my disguise.” He suddenly stopped and looked around him. Still not sensing or smelling anyone, a small bundle of nerves grew deep in his belly.
“Shit. It would look very suspicious if I just walk around with her like this. I don’t need anymore trouble.” He looked around and walked to the closest building, a parking structure. With grace and precision he jumped high into the air landing atop of the structure and began running from rooftop to rooftop. Already very familiar and acquainted with the city, he knew where to go from the address on her identification card.
After scaling each necessary building with hardly any required effort, Inuyasha landed on the rooftop of her apartment. He looked down to the girl in his arms. She hadn’t stirred once during the run and that worried him. He uttered a low growl as he made his way to the roofs edge and looked down. The apartment complex wasn’t all that extravagant, a very typical building with neighbors in between her apartment. Cautious to not be seen by any neighbors, Inuyasha placed Kagome gently on the roof of her building and went into her small purse and easily found her house keys. He went down to her door first to unlock it and put the keys in his pocket before carrying her down with him. Upon entering her living space Inuyasha couldn’t help but to be engulfed by her smell. It was everywhere.
The smell was difficult to describe in one word, but he knew it would engrave itself into his brain. The intoxicating smell was emanating from every corner of the room and as if his mind allowed him to, he suddenly remembered the situation he was in. He quickly closed the front door and made his way past the entry and into her living space. Looking around to his left a small kitchen and to his right a door. He opened it expecting her bedroom yet was greeted with a suffocating small bathroom. Grunting he closed the door back and made his way to the living room, the girl still in tow in his arms.
“Is this where she lives?” He looked around the room. A small t.v. on a short bookshelf and a rolled futon were tucked nicely in a corner. A rectangular small coffee table which he could only guess doubled as her dining table was off center below her one large window. And the only average size furnishings he could see was a tall dresser and a study desk next to it. Other than her desk decorated with open books, a cup of writing utensils and a lamp, the rest of her home was relatively clean.
He placed her gently on the floor and walked towards her futon and began rolling it out.
“Ya know, this place is tiny as hell. How do you even live like this?” Inuyasha wasn’t expecting an answer and was happy to not surprisingly hear one back. He picked her up and placed her on her futon, her weight pushing against the pillows and mat made her captivating sent valley up into his nose. He grunted, he wasn’t sure why she smelled so amazing to him, but it was really starting to get on his nerves. Wanting to leave even faster he quickly took off her shoes and grabbed her purse. He placed her purse on her desk chair, not really knowing where it would go and placed her shoes at the door entryway. Making sure to lock the lock on the doorknob, he left her, hoping she’d believe their encounter to be only a dream.
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wrongwiredmind · 4 years
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Before I start saying anything I'd like to warn that the content of this post is both gore and contains suicidal thoughts, if any of that triggers you, please do not read, I care about whoever is reading but I can't hold any responsibility for anything that might follow, stay safe, and remember that no matter what, what comes next in your life will be better, one way or another.
This post is rather long, but that's kinda the point of this page, here we go, then.
So, I had almost my weirdest dream to date, right now, and then I thought, to heck with it!! Let's share something!
So first of all, I need to set some points straight before writing so it might explain a few things, hopefully, without giving a lot away about my personality:
(I have no idea how to put them on order, so they're pretty much a mumbo jumbo. Ah~ My favourite type of writing~. Kidding, of course, I actually prefer reading well written stories and articles)
Anyhow:. 1- I have a really deep unexplainable fear of the vast beast called an ocean (or a sea, or really anytype of deep water), I still go to the beach and pools and whatever, but there's always some sort of an icy grip tightening around my non-existent heart.
2- I love IronMan! So so much, and I kinda adopted Tony Stark!! (no one tell him, please!).
3- my adoration of a certain supernatural series made me love batman! (well, not entirely true, I always loved him, but kinda from afar, you get me?)
4- want me to get hooked on something? Give me a fanfic of it!! (of course like a series or a book, not a substance, you bad bad people!!), that's how I loved Bilbo!! (imagine me saying it in my adorable voice, the one I use when I try to sound cute 😉)
5- I binge read a certain fanfic about those two amazing superheroes saving the world, and themselves!! (I refuse to give up the name since if you think this is me oversharing? You've got another thing coming, honey!) that had a cruise and another prototype of the IronMan suit (don't ask which mark it is but it's so fast it broke the sound barrier!!)
6- I'm a little bit under the weather, (not corona, folks!) and my throat is kinda itchy, to the point that I lost all my vocal prowess for a little more than 24 hours a few days ago, still kinda annoying, and my stomach rebelled so much yesterday (before and during sleeping) that I thought she should take the rebellion symbol from Mr. Che Jivara!! (with all due respect to him, I'm only joking, so please no one takes it seriously).
7- I'm a little bit of a spacetoon (and all that's good and beautiful in our childhood) encyclopedia, want a name of a cartoon or a song you can't remember? I'm usually your best bet, after the second mother, google, of course!!
8- this week is so dead that if you want to see zombies come to our lectures any time in it, seriously we're so under a lot of exams, thank God and the doctors for postponing our tasks and assignments' due-date.
9- if I was a little more of an extrovert I might not have had to write most of these strange snippets about me in a freaking post!!!
And finally, on with the dream! (another thing you probably know by now, that I kinda take you around and under and left and right before I say what I want to say).
So, it was an assignment to some sort of subject (don't ask me which, since as far as I know, not a single thing in our curriculum will make me do what I'm about to do here, or at least, I hope so!!!), we made some type of fall-body suit that needed analysing (who am I kidding, it was the IronMan suit!!), and guess who was picked as a pilot? That's right! Yours truly!!
Anyway, good thing to bad, we had to make the prototype test in the middle of the (as I said above) the vast beast! Mr. Oceanus (I know that that is a Mr. Titan, but who am I, the lowly mortal, to deny his decision to appear in my paragraphs? And no, he didn't show up in the dream, thank God! [ours, not any of the others]),
So, I was put in the cruise, in the middle of the ocean, with the IronMan suit, and a seriously sick stomach, can you guess where we're going with this? (I'm actually kinda enjoying writing this since it reminds me of a certain mad superhero/not superhero who finally joined the XMen!, of course he joined a few years ago but I only watch the second movie circa a month ago) no? let me tell you, a bit of dizziness, seasickness, and an already rebellious stomach? Not a good combination, and remember that I really, really fear the ocean (just remembering the dream and the images in my head is traumatising, let alone living it vividly for a few hours), so, I fell, and strangely enough, I was a good swimmer (ah~ I really count my blessings here since no matter who or when someone taught me to swim, I still can't manage), I was able to stay close to the ship, but couldn't really pull myself up, so all I could do was keep a good hold on a rope tied around the ship and keep my legs in a calculated, slow what feels like a walking-in-place exercise,, (I can still feel the water around me, and the gentle waves of the ocean, it was both a calming feeling and a horrible one) and then...
Something touched the soles of my feet, and it kinda hurt, and it continued to move under me till something hit my toes, it was a shark fin, that's right, a shark choose me as his next meal, how honoured I was!!! Kidding i was kinda terrified, but all that YouTube survival videos came to mind, I left the rope of the ship and kinda dipped under water (triple scare, here, yikes!) and I... pushed.. his muzzle?
Yeah, so not really what they taught you in the videos, my polite nature rears its ugly head again (politeness is not as good as it seems, people! actually once a stray dog entered our home and jumped on the couch, and I was asking nicely and politely if "Mr. Dog would pretty please leave us be", and no, I wasn't scared but mom told me not to touch it, and it kinda was a cute, if a mangy mutt)
I didn't really want to punch the shark, even if my life kinda depended on it here, for a few reasons and actually at least one of them was pretty reasonable, which is, my punch is pretty weak, guys!!
Anyway, of course since its skin kinda scratched my feet there was blood, so it didn't leave me alone, two things I concluded here, first, Mr. Shark was either a lazy guy since he was coming to me slowly as if he either was a giant cat coming for pets no matter how many times you push her, or he was playing with his food, aka, me.
The second thing I discovered was that I was really sick in real life since my imagination couldn't conjure another family member of my guest here (again with the small mercies, can you imagine being alone around all these carnivores? And I bet not all of them will be moving so leisurely!!)
So, I finally decided to be the champ of my cruise and punch the thing in the face, so I pulled up all the power I can in my fist and punched him in his snout!!!
And let me tell you, it's not as easy is they make it sound, first, his nose is actually pretty hard, not the sensitive area they led us to believe, second, my hand really hurt and his skin scratched my knuckles, and I believe it kinda broke a bone in my hand, third, and worse, it actually enraged the mister so much that it left me, J-squared again and this time, flew! in my direction and I swear I still feel his teeth sinking in the shin of my right leg, but before he tore it apart, I actually did the right thing to defend myself, I (and I apologise, Mr. Dream shark, but you really hurt both my leg and my feelings!!) poked his eyes, which made for a very awkward stretch to my body, but finally, I was left alone!! With a mangled leg, of course, but hey!! It's not real life, so let's be glad.
The saltwater stinging my feet, still sick, and more dizzy from blood loss, you have no idea how glad was I that I was still near the ship, a little bit more than a meter but still floating, and then, the bad became worse, I actually goT SWALLOWED WHOLE BY A WHALE!!!!!!!!, YUP!! THE WHALE IN THE PICTURE!!!
And then god with his mercies again, it swallowed the ship but opened his mouth for me to leave, neat, ain't it?
But let me tell you what happened in a little more details, I felt a ripple in the water beneath and around me, and the ship started to sway, and a faint sound of something between a roar and strange song-like-sound, feeling the rumble under me was what made me look, and lo and behold!! The mighty animal wanted the meal that the shark didn't get, bye bye world!! Bye bye the suit that I still didn't to get to wear! And bye bye the report I needed to write for this freaking assignment that because of it I might fail and my friends will rail me when they see me!!
The ship and I couldn't help but enter the mouth of the humongous fish, the sounds of the wood, metal, glass and whatever is the cruise was made of was deafening, so loud and cruel, and I got a more than a few bruises and abrasions, and the feel of his teeth behind my back, sharp and huge and bigger than my own size, was something I don't know how to describe, and suddenly between all the breaking and suffocating water and absolute darkness, something caught my eyes, the slits in the helmet of the suit were lit, I'm sure it was a malfunction because of all the destruction on Mark, but it took all my fear, as if sucking it from my own eyes, and as sudden as it glowed, it vanished, but the calm remained, I closed my eyes, since it didn't matter, and just stopped everything, even trying to hold my breath, but not breathing as well, as if all body functions just... Stopped.
And then my eyes flew open again, not because I woke up, but because of an almost crushing change in the water pressure, it just pushed me forward more inside the huge mouth, and when I thought that this is it, I found the whale mouth moving further away from me, taking the ship and Mark with it, and leaving me alone, in the middle of the ocean that I wanted to say "c'mon!! If you ate me it'll be a win-win situation!!!!" but the second I opened my mouth water rushed inside that I tried swimming up to breath (even though not knowing which way is up was problematic, since something similar happened in real life before I wasn't worried, but that's a story for another time), breaking the surface was a godsend, I tell you! But my misery wasn't in any way over, I was so thirsty I actually wanted to drink salt water a again (and then death, oh wow, how smart?), and once the adrenaline deserted me, my leg returned to trying to kill me, and I don't know if it was a real thing if it happened in real life but it actually stopped bleeding, which was both fantastic, since it means that I won't die of bloodloss, and horrifying since I'm not going to die because of bloodloss, at least then I would have been able to calculate an approximate time for my death, but no, I have to wait and see what kills me next, I almost wished that I just had my previous stomachache and be done with.
Anyway, moving was not really an option, and staying was not either, and the breeze was making me so cold my teeth almost broke from all the shattering they were doing, I wasn't really sure when the others might decide to check on me, and I'm not really sure if I was still in the place they left me at, and I really didn't know what to do, I was so helpless, and cold, and thirsty, in so much pain and so so tired.
I cursed the whale again for not ending my misery, and cursed the shark for being a coward and not finishing what he started and cursing the assignment for being so impossible yet important, and most of all cursing myself, though I don't know why, but my self-loathing decided that now is the time to remember how horrible I am.
As physics does, the water raised me till I was floating on my back, which made me feel even more cold but I didn't have any energy to do anything about it, and strangely, I fell into some sort of doze, not asleep yet not really awake and aware, my whole body half above half into the water, though my right, injured leg, was bend in the knee into the water, which made my pained scream when something took hold of it in its mouth the more agonizing since it made my upper body enter the water, and the thing holding my leg left it alone, and I was able to right myself and look around me for the next threat, the fear was immense that I thought I might get a heartattack, which, admittedly would be better than the pain going to be inflicted upon me any second now, looking around finally led me to what attacked me, and for a moment, with my blurry, and fear filled eyes looked like Mr. Shark has indeed returned to finish what he started, he even returned to his play-with-my-food attitude, but when my eyes finally focused they detected differences, from the lighter shade of colors, to the more smooth curves of the fin and snout, and the gentle, warm (even if it looked sleepy) strange brown tone of the mammels eyes,
The dolphin was about two meters away, and looking at me with intense, twinkling eyes (if they were blue and he wore glasses, or at least marking that looks like it, I would have thought that the dolphin was Dumbledore' animagus and I really wouldn't have hesitated this time to punch his already crocked nose.. err.. snout [which it isn't, the dolphin's snout was perfect] with my broken hand!!) and moved slowly towards me, he pushed me gently with his nose in my abdomen, swam back a few inches, then entered the water and moved towards my leg, not touching it, but he was close enough to feel with my already almost destroyed sensitive nerves, he did all of that while I'm standing/floating, stupefied, hardly even breathing, and then he left, and pushed me again with his snout on my back, this time with more pressure that my body couldn't help but move to the dolphin's right side to let him pass, with my hand just above his back, when my hand touched his prominent back fin, he pushed my hip gently, as if telling me something, and pushed his fin into my hand again, it felt like rubber, and I couldn't help but ask "you want me to hold you?" he made a strange clicking noise then kinda slapped the water with his side fin in the other side of me, and bizarrely, his actions made me feel as if he was saying "are you stupid? Why else would I offer you my magnificent dorsal?!!" I stared, flummoxed, at the creature and couldn't help but throw my head back and laugh, I'm certain that it was the tension, fear and hysteria that made me do it, but for me, the whole situation was so hilarious that it seemed like it made Mr. Dolphin look at me and think "alright, the pathetic, hurt, star-shaped blemish is, indeed, stupid and needs help from my majesty" and then, using his right fin, slapped me non-too-gently on the side of my left hip, squeaking something as well and pushed his dorsal in my left hand again, but when he noticed my wince, he actually kinda rubbed his slippery appendage on my thigh while honest-to-god cooed at me that I couldn't help but smile at him, "it's okay, big guy, and thanks; you know, you kinda remind me of flipper!" and then I petted him a couple of times (which he purred at, I think I need a cat! 🤔🤔) then grabbed his fin in a tight but non constricting grip, my right hand was swollen by now so my only hope was to keep holding using my left hand, after shaking his body a little as if to check my hold, he dove with me into the water!! I almost screamed in fright but then he broke the surface and jumped about three meters high into the air!!!
Hello, there, adrenaline, didn't see you since a few!!
He dove again into the water and this time gradually moved towards the surface, with the water flowing into my hair and pushing me from my saviour, my left leg moved on its own violation and moved around the body as if I was riding a horse,
"WOOHOO!!", I shouted once we were in the air again, it was exhilarating; cold, but thrilling, though the warm body beneath me was perfect, he took me in a straight if slightly curvy line, and when I noticed that, I also noticed that his right fin was not moving as his left, I even thought he was injured for a second, but then a sharp sting in my leg and a slight jerk from him made me understand, my injured leg was beneath his wing-like appendage, and he was being considerate, as a solution, I flattened myself on his back, kept my left leg dangling as if in the horse saddle, my right one, as gently as possible, bend on the knee above the dolphin's back, my left hand gripping the top fin with it touching my shoulder, and my broken right hand above Mr. Flipper's cousin head, and then I came into a a sudden realization!! "does that mean I'm Lopaka????" I asked Flipper the second, and he made a sound suspiciously almost like a snort, but my change of position made him move in a much more pronounced straight line; the speed decreased as I started to doze again, as if he was worried about dislodging me, though the annoying feeling of the salt crusting on my skin woke me up, no idea how much time had past, except that the sun was on either the verge of descending or rising, and finally, finally, I saw land and buildings and what not from afar, and I certainly moved to another continent all together, let alone another country, after reaching the area where I could stand comfortably on the ground beneath the water, people started to come to see what was happening, I ignored them for the sake of my silent companion, suddenly he actually stood on his tail fin, and kinda sort of awkwardly leaned on me without trying to put too much pressure, I didn't understand what was happening though it seemed sorta like a hug?
Anyway, I pat his back again, (and again with the weird purring noise), when he released me I felt buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans, I actually still have my phone!!!
Pulling it out and snorting that after everything that happened my phone was still working!! all I could say is "well, it seems like the time of a picture, Mr. Flipper, sir!" and after an awkward kneeling so I could put my injured arm around him and trying to stretch my bloody leg (both meanings are accurate here, tbh) so it wouldn't interfere with the selfie, I positioned my left hand.
And the last thing I remember is the picture of my (Lopaka the second 😂) wide mouth grin and an equally wonderful grin from Mr. Flipper the second!!!
The End.
It really was a dream I had, with all these details, the only thing that's not entirely true about this post, is saying that this is the weirdest dream I had.
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ducktracy · 5 years
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128. westward whoa (1936)
disclaimer: unfortunately, this is one of those cartoons that requires a disclaimer. this review you’re about to see entails racist stereotypes, concepts, and imagery. i do not at all support or condone these ideas in any way, shape, or form—they’re gross and wrong. it would, however, be just as gross of me to skip over them. this review is for the intent of educating and informing, and i don’t at all intend to harm or offend anyone. with that said, PLEASE let me know if i say something harmful, offensive, or wrong. it’s not my intent whatsoever and i want to be aware of my mistakes so i can fix them. thank you for bearing with me, and i hope you can understand.
release date: april 25th, 1936
series: looney tunes
director: jack king
starring: bernice hansen (ham and ex, kitty), tommy bond (beans), joe dougherty (porky)
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hard to believe it’s time already, but this is the last appearance of beans. little kitty makes an appearance in plane dippy (i’ve seen some sources list plane dippy before the blow out, which i suppose makes more sense. it can be difficult to decipher the order of these cartoons when you have 3 different conflicting release dates for each cartoon. i suppose the order doesn’t matter as much as the content but still. i think around 1937 things start to get more concrete) and the bespectacled unnamed dog with an overbite who occasionally makes appearances reappears in shanghaied shipmates, but now the cartoons begin to shift focus towards porky. it’s been a good run, beans! unfortunately, his last goodbye isn’t the most savory of cartoons—out west, ham and ex cry wolf, pretending to be native americans and crying for help, but, of course, REAL native americans show up and no one believes their pleas for help.
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open to a wagon train traversing the old west. beans and kitty are included in the band of pioneers, singing “covered wagon days”, vocals contributed by their cattle, some other pioneers, etc. even porky’s shown playing a flute solo. another gag includes a man riding his mule, essentially walking on top of it—he walks on ahead with his beer bottle, leaving the donkey behind. i’ve said it before, but i find it so interesting that jack king included songs in his cartoons. freleng and avery has mentioned how the merrie melodies format was nothing but a burden to their cartoons, having to work around the story to arbitrarily include a song in, yet king seemed to make it a point to include a song when he didn’t have to.
the gang settle in (kitty excitedly babbles on about how nice the spot they chose would be, with a lovely lake, big rock, trees, etc etc) quite comfortably. fade out back in to some pioneers square dancing to “oh, susanna!” (fun trivia, bugs and elmer sing a duet of “oh, susanna!” in the wacky wabbit, another western cartoon) a crowd clapping and cheering them on.
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beans is enjoying himself, dancing along to the music. ham and ex run up to him and excitedly declare in unison “we’re gonna play indians!”, to which beans playfully warns “be careful the indians don’t getcha!” yep, it’s one of THOSE cartoons. unfortunately, this genre of cartoons would span all throughout looney tunes’ lifespan, moreso concentrated in the 30s and 40s, but the last ever classic era cartoon in 1969 is literally named inj*n trouble (a remake of the 1938 short by bob clampett, which he also remade in 1945 as wagon heels). so, unfortunately, this is the start of an unsavory and cringeworthy batch of cartoons.
ham and ex giggle and hobble away, but almost immediately halt in their tracks. behind a rock appears to be a native american headdress that’s moving. ham and ex exchange worried glances and eventually creep up to the source... only to find that it’s just a turkey pecking at the ground. this, of course, gives ham an idea (as always, there’s literally no way to tell them apart. i’m just going by left and right. who ever is on the left is ham, whoever on the right is ex) as he whispers into ex’s ear.
their idea? running around yelling “indians! help!” beans drops his stack of wood he’s carrying and reaches for his rifle, echoing their warning (in, for some reason, a deeper voice that is in no way tommy bond’s?) all of the pioneers are alerted and resort to gunfire. a dog in a pond shoots his rifle, skipping around like a rock in water. another dog hops into a wood stove and fires from there.
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beans darts over to the rock where the turkey (unbeknownst to him) is pecking at the ground. beans fires, and does a jack king hat take when he realizes he shot the fan off of a turkey instead. ham and ex find it just absolutely hilarious, doubling over in a fit of laughter. beans is pissed and approaches them, warning ex that a native american will someday get them and (he pretends to cut his neck) “krrrrrrk! off goes your head!” he retreats, done with his lecture, when he suddenly whips around and snaps “and you too!” at ham. finally some nice comedic timing and a clever joke, but a shame it has to be wasted on something so racist and tiresome.
if ham and ex were rattled by beans’ lecture, they do little to express it. in fact, ex whispers in ham’s ear, both smiling with mischievous pride. ex thusly launches into a war call (ugh), followed by ham, and predictably beans is fooled again. he grabs his gun and starts running around in a flurry once more, his pioneer buddies also shooting aimlessly. ham and ex are now, for some reason, in the same spot where beans was prior (it never showed them running around). suddenly, ham taps ex on the back, who’s in a fit of hysterics. they both dart off screen as a frustrated and befuddled beans approaches, scratching his head.
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now, ham and ex seek refuge behind a log, laughing and continuing their war cry. but get this—an ACTUAL grotesquely and stereotypically caricatured native american pops out from behind a tree! who would’ve thunk it? and, of course, he’s depicted as a barbaric savage. ugh. ham and ex run away, and once more does their routine of crying for help ensue, yet this time they actually mean it. the two pups hide inside the log, the native american diving in after them. the twins make it out of the other end as the native american gets stuck, and they both beat his head and butt with clubs respectively.
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the twins cry once more, and, just as the classic story goes, no one believes them. beans runs his laundry through a wringer while kitty proposes he go check on the kids—“never can tell what they’re up to!” elsewhere, porky peels potatoes and shrugs off the cries for helps. he talks to the audience and stutters “it’s just those kids trying to fool you again.”
back to ham and ex. ham beats the native american on the butt, and he’s propelled out of his log and hurdles straight towards a tree. as the twins attempt to escape, they encounter more native americans, who attempt to dog pile on them. they narrowly escape, and this time run around in helpless circles near porky, who’s still (captivating as ever) peeling potatoes, merely smiling and shrugging. they both dive into a trunk at the base for safety. porky comments “those kids must think we’re pretty dumb.” he laughs (i think? he makes some sort of huh-huh noise but he looks more worried than joyful), but his laughter is quickly cut short once an arrow flies right through his beloved potato and splits it in two.
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now porky attempts to make a break for it, running around aimlessly and tripping over a spare rifle in the foreground (i will admit that the shot is rather nicely staged.) suddenly, a ton of native americans pour into their base, all doing a war cry. porky struggles to get his warning out, but he has no trouble shouting “INDIANS!” after an arrow zings him right in the butt.
i know directors had lamented about working with joe dougherty’s natural stutter, because they couldn’t play around with his dialogue as much. mel blanc’s porky, as you know, would typically change his sentence structure in the midst of a stutter. i had watched porky in egypt earlier today, so i’ll use it as an example: at one point, porky laments “it’s awful war-wa-w-h-ho-h—gosh, i’m roasting!” that sentence structure was made famous by vaudevillian roscoe ates, who overcame a natural childhood stutter. part of his shtick would be to substitute his own words to make them come out easier. they wanted to take that direction with porky since the dougherty days, but couldn’t because of his natural stutter. tex avery has lamented about how much film was wasted during recording sessions with dougherty. so, to substitute, they’d play around with gags like these to get him to hurry up, whether it be whistling at him or, in this case, shooting him with an arrow. so it’s interesting to see them play around with his stutter as much as they could.
there’s a really strange cut that contributes to the cartoon’s incoherency—beans is chased by a native american brandishing a tomahawk while kitty cowers. beans is pinned beneath the crank of the wringer, and kitty tugs at the clothes in the wringer, which causes the handle to repeatedly smack the native american in the chin. it’s very subtle, but you see beans leap off of the wringer. a jump cut and beans is perfectly in position near a wood stove, shooting his pistols. the transition is nonexistent, almost no indication to show that he was in peril 4 seconds earlier. anyway.
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an arrow pierces beans’ coonskin hat, a native american firing a number of arrows at him. beans hatches an idea and opens the door to the wood stove. the arrows fly into the stove and shoot right out of the pipe back at the perpetrator like a boomerang, pinning him against a tree. elsewhere, a native american attempts to slice a dog with his tomahawk. the dog takes off a toupee and hands it to the native american (a reference to the practice of scalping, like it sounds, cutting part of a human scalp with the hair attached. norm mccabe plays around with the word in the daffy duckaroo when daisy june tells daffy her boyfriend was wanted for ticket scalping.)
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gags ensue as the fight rages on. a native american curves an arrow to shoot like a curveball, but it hits him in the but as the pioneer ducks. beans prepares to hit a native american over the head with a club, but instead hits another BEHIND him as he anticipates to go into the swing, eventually hitting them both. porky’s shooting his rifles, when an arrow pierced his suspenders. porky struggles to get his pants to stay up, occasionally flashing the audience as he continually hikes them up. another arrow shoots by and lodges in both his pants and shirt, effectively pinning the pants securely. i will give credit where credit is due, that’s a gag that actually feels somewhat funny.
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meanwhile, ham and ex dive into some dresser drawers, popping out at the top of the dresser and hitting a native american over the head with hair brushes. they continue to hit and mock him, like a makeshift game of whack a mole. the native american cuts the dresser in half with his tomahawk, reaching into both halves and grabbing the kids, who cry for help. beans discovers a bear trap, and circles it like a lasso, throwing it right at the native american. it hits—where else?—right in the butt, and he retreats, the kids watching him go. unbeknownst to them, beans is creeping up slowly from behind. he does a war chant to give them a taste of their own medicine, and, of course, the pups are scared out of their wits. we iris out on their little eyes peering out of the trunk they used as a hideout.
to say the least, i hate this cartoon. this is my least favorite jack king cartoon to date, and least favorite beans cartoon. it’s a shame, i actually liked beans and i wish he had a more ceremonious goodbye. as you can obviously see for yourself, the cartoon is downright racist, mean spirited, and ugly. unfortunately i’ve seen a good handful of cartoons in this genre, and they’re all obviously racist, but this one in particular feels exceptionally mean spirited and grotesque. and aside from all THAT, it’s an obnoxious, repetitive cartoon. porky peels potatoes! beans gets mad! people shoot guns! ham and ex yell! as high energy as it is, there’s nothing very exciting about it. i saw this one in november—i wanted to watch every looney tunes cartoon, but didn’t know how i would commit/it was too daunting, so i instead settled for watching every porky cartoon since he’s been established so early on. told myself i wouldn’t watch it again, and here we are!
as for beans, it’s been... something! i say this is his final appearance, but he DOES make a cameo in plane dippy, nothing more. in fact, out of all 11 cartoons he was featured in, 2 of them are just mere cameos, so really he only has 9. and again, some sources list plane dippy as being made before westward whoa, which makes sense. regardless, i like beans. i love cat characters in general (sylvester was my favorite as a kid since i had a tuxedo cat of my own), but he definitely had more flavor than buddy, yet still falling into the happy to lucky protagonist. out of all 3 beginner stars, bosko, buddy, and beans, bosko was the most fleshed out and fun to watch. i certainly took him for granted when watching his cartoons (because i couldn’t shake the notion that “this is a blackface caricature”)—he was very bouncy and a musical character, and he was almost captivating to watch. buddy and beans you don’t get that musicality (i argue that in some cartoons, porky is a VERY musical character. i did an analysis on it here, which i’ll go more in depth on when we cover prehistoric porky). so, better than buddy, not as good as bosko. i’ll still miss him, but porky’s time to shine is finally here, and things are going to get rolling!
i don’t at all recommend this cartoon, but if you’re that curious i’ll put a link. obviously view at your own discretion.
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medakakurokami · 4 years
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I mean, yeah, Scrappy is annoying, but he is far from the worse thing that cursed franchise has ever spawned. Does nobody remember Scooby Doo's redneck cousin, Scooby-Dum?
That’s the thing though! As a kid I thought meeting members of Scooby Doo’s family was like, really fun, it was like world-building for kids, crafting a deep and illustrious Scooby-Doo Great Dane Family Lore. What gets me is that like its not like any of these new goofy, even if potentially annoying, new characters made the show any better or worse. The quality of the mysteries weren’t better or worse with them around, the quality of the humor wasn’t suddenly better or worse. The animation certainly wasn’t better or worse after that.
Every single Scooby Doo character was just based on an old trope but for some reason the main cast has been elevated, probably in part by the live action movies that just poked fun at the tropes and kinda went hog wild with them. But yeah Fred was your cliched rich frat boy in the 60′s but now we’ve elevated him to himbo status in the modern era, Shaggy was just a hippie stoner kid  and well he hasn’t elevated past that but now that we’re all in college we just like the stoner humor more, Daphne was some straight-laced preppy pretty girl and now she’s treated like some #GirlBoss and I guess that’s fine we have worse ideas for #GirlBosses being thrown around like #Girlbosses these days, and obviously Velma was this clumsy bookworm nerdy girl archetype and now she’s every hipster nerd’s wet dream because she got thick square rimmed glasses and a thick ass.
Maybe its the realism factor? The mystery gang were based on human and relatable archetypes whereas the Doo family was based on more animal cartoon archetypes, like Scrappy-Doo is hardly that different from the angry likes of Daffy Duck or Tom from Tom and Jerry, where his anger and tendency to start fights causes himself and the gang trouble. But even during this Scooby-Doo himself is given a pass, perhaps as the title character, but Scooby-Doo is more or less a component to Shaggy, he’s the dumb, cowardly, stoner dog that works with the dumb, cowardly, stoner man. And that’s fine! But so are angry puppies! And redneck dog cousins! And Elvis impersonator cousins! And comically evil dogs with a tophat cousins! It’s a fuckin’ cartoon!
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duhragonball · 5 years
Text
Dragon Ball Z 287
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Hey, remember Kid Buu?  Well he’s dead!   And there was much rejoicing.  Not sure Namek is a great place to have a celebration.   They probably just drink water and smile a lot.
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King Yemma celebrates by turning over his desk.  That’s like the third TV set he’s had since this whole thing started.  
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Meanwhile, back on Earth, Piccolo and.... wait, you guys were on the Lookout in the last episode.   There was a whole scene where Piccolo told the boys to meet him there, and then Videl had this cute reunion with Gohan.   Now they’re back here?  I’m starting to think this cartoon about magic dragons and super karate may not be entirely consistent.
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On the Supreme Kai Planet, Goku’s worn out.  He’s had a rough few days.  
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Mr. Satan informs the people of Earth that Buu is definitely dead, and the crowd goes wild.
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Videl’s a little embrassed by the way everyone gives him the credit for this, but at least she knows he’s okay.
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Bulma shouts “Vegeta, I love you!” when she hears the news.   Awwwwwww.
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So the Kais and Dende teleport back to the Supreme Kai Planet to clean up.  While the Kais take stock of the damage to their planet, Dende heals Goku and Vegeta.   Goku asks him to help Vegeta first, since he took a worse beating.   It’s always weird for me to see Dende healing Vegeta in this scene, because of how reluctant he was to do it back in the Frieza Saga.
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Then Bee runs off and leads Mr. Satan to Majin Buu.   The fat one, I mean.    Turns out he’s hurt, but he’s still alive.
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Satan pleads for Dende to heal him, but Vegeta threatens to destroy him instead, and demands that Satan move out of the way.   Satan tries to defend Buu, explaining that this one’s not such a bad guy, and that he’ll see to it that no one pisses him off enough to cause him to spawn another Kid Buu or whatever happened last time. Geets ain’t buying it, though, but Satan won’t stand aside, and Vegeta doesn’t seem to want to shoot them both.
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Finally, Goku weighs in and reminds Vegeta of how these two helped them in the previous few episodes.  He figures that’s worth sparing Fat Buu, and if he ever does cause trouble in the future, well, that’s good incentive for them to train.
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Kibitoshin isn’t sold on this idea, since everyone on Earth is terrified of Majin Buu.  In particular this fat version, which was the only one most people ever saw.  Goku suggests that Buu just stay indoors for a few months until the Dragon Balls are active again.    Then, he’ll just ask Shenron to erase everyone’s memories of Majin Buu, and that’ll fix everything!  The Elder Kai disapproves of using the Dragon Balls again, and Vegeta washes his hands of the whole mess, but neither of them objects enough to stop it.
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So they all go back to Earth.  Kibitoshin drops them all off on the Lookout...
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...And everyone gets welcomed home by their families.   Oh, and Videl has a dog now.
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Also, a roomate.
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I love how Vegeta is just exhausted with this whole thing.    “Yeah, we let him live, because we’re idiots.”
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I also like how Trunks is ready to throw down.  
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But Goku explains the whole thing to them, and I guess it’s cool.
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Then Goku explains how the Elder Kai gave him a new life, so he’s going to live with his family again.   Awwwww...
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Later, Goku makes the wish to have everyone forget Majin Buu.    Earlier, it was established that this wish would have to wait until four months had passed, but in this episode it’s six.   I have no idea why.  
I’m also not sure how Goku phrased the wish.   I assume he wanted the main cast to remember Buu, but I don’t know how you summarize that.  Maybe he just wrote down everyone’s names that he thought would want to remember.   On the other hand, it’s not like Chi-Chi desperately wants to remember that it was Buu who turned her into an egg.  If he left her off the list, who would know or care?
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So the rest of this episode takes place after that wish is made.   Buu’s just strolling through West City, having a good ol’ time, and then he sees a kid eating an ice cream cone.  She won’t share, but she does point out where he can get his own damn cone.
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Buu goes in an orders a scoop of everything.  Maybe I’m a square, but I like the cones.   I wouldn’t say they’re the best part, but I don’t really see the point in getting just one cone for like twenty scoops.   Just get twenty cones.    
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Trouble is, Buu’s got no money.  At first he gets pissed, but then he remembers how Mr. Satan told him not to lose his temper.    Was that all he had to do? 
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So Buu wanders around trying to find a solution to this problem, until he comes across a street fighter challenging bystanders to fight him for a big cash prize.  It’s basically the same gag as when Goku did it in Episode 43 of Dragon Ball.    Buu is reluctant at first, because Satan told him not to fight, but the guy tells him it’s just a game, and someone else pays his admission, and Buu wins with one hit.  
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So Buu goes back to the ice cream parlor and boom, he’s got like twenty cones.   See, he took my advice.
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Something I’ve noticed about these last few episodes since they revived the population.    It seems like they’re drawing a lot more sexy ladies in these crowds.  The bar’s kind of low for “sexy ladies” in a Dragon Ball cartoon, but this lady on the right is posing pretty sedctively while she drinks her lemon ice.  Also, they keep using her on this same shot of the parlor.   So she was drink that thing the first time Buu went in, and she’s still drinking it after he left, came back, and left again.  
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Anyway, Buu just chillaxes in the park eating ice cream.    My man takes him time on that last one too.  
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Also, he shared one with these pigeons.   Or doves.   Whatever.  I know he dropped that one for them to eat because Buu wouldn’t think twice about licking it up off the ground. 
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Then Bulma shows up.  I don’t know why she’s buying groceries all by herself, but okay.
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I dig this scene a lot, because you’d never expect these two to spend any time together, but here they are.   Apparently Vegeta was supposed to go with her, but he ditched her to train, and then Buu wandered off by himself too. 
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Then she goes jewelry shopping, and Buu thinks the jewelry doesn’t look very tasty.  
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Then two guys try to hold up the place, and it’s the same guys Buu beat for all their money.   I guess they got desperate pretty fast.
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When they realize Buu’s in the store, they panic and shoot him.
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But he flicks the bullet back at them, and they decide to surrender. 
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Outside, Gohan and Videl show up as Great Saiyaman 1 and 2, but the crooks turn themselves in before they can finish their posing.   So I’m not sure if Toei was planning this bit all along, and that’s why they worked it into Movie 13, or if they came up with it as something for Videl to do in Movie 13, and decided to carry it over into this episode.  Either way, I think these are the only two appearances of Videl as Great Saiyaman Mark 2, or Great Saiyawoman, oe what have you.   I want to say she used the costume again in Dragon Ball GT, but I’m pretty sure the whole point of that was that she dug it out of her closet years after retiring the character.
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I gotta say, I wasn’t looking forward to this episode, but now that I’ve watched it again, it’s really great.   
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Back at Goku’s house, he’s horsing around with the boys in their tub...
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Then they fuse to turn the tables on him....
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And he turns Super Saiyan to even the playing field.  Only it blows up the tub. 
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Gohan’s like, “No, it’s okay, Videl.   Take a good long look at my dad’s ass.    You’ll be seeing it a lot from here on, so you might as well get used to it.”
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I guess everybody came over to have dinner with the Son family, so Chi-Chi’s kind of pissed that Gotenks and Goku are running around nude.
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Also, Vegeta’s here.
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hellrisen · 4 years
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@diabhales
TITLE: SOAKED FROM THE WAIST DOWN.  SETTING: DUNK TANK.  STARRING: LETHA NEWMAN & BEAU ROCHESTER.
LETHA: as if served on a silver platter, letha has to contain the giddiness rallying up inside her upon the view of beau rochester — sitting atop a $1 dollar dunk tank. not yet spotted, she rummages through her pants pocket for the needed change. perfect, brilliant, absolutely fucking amazing. a casual stroll, arms fold across her chest as she approaches. “ sup, beauregard. „
BEAU: Of course Letha has to roll up. If she'd have been the one in the tank — as he'd expressed to Kai earlier, Beau would stand there all day: ball in hand, dunking on repeat. But, naturally, the fact that she was doing it annoyed him endlessly. As she did all the time. "Letha Newman," he calls back from his position atop the tank. "Don't worry about paying to fail. I don't think anyone wants to lug around warm pennies if it'd leave you in such a tough financial spot."
LETHA: normally, heat would collect in cheeks and all the way up to her ears upon one of his comments. but there was no denying the power had shifted. and how it had. a smile forcing itself onto tanned features, letha hands the other person her hard earned money. “ wow … even as you’re about to be served a fat, greasy plate of karma you don’t shut up. „ beat. “ is that your talent for the show? your unsolicited commentary? „
BEAU: Regardless of the accuracy of her statement — if there was one thing Beau could do well, it was chime in where he didn't belong, especially when it came to anything Letha did — he wasn't going to sit there and take it lying down. He leans forward in his seat, water disrupted below him from rickety machine. "No, I'm not participating. I don't have that kind of desperation for 5k."  Eyebrow quirked, smile appearing on his face full of smarm & sarcasm. "Or attention."
LETHA: beau was, unfortunately, right. while her own participation was a last minute decision, it had been one entirely based on escaping the monthly dependency on the rochesters. he always did have to hit below the belt. lips pressing together tight, fingers clench the ball just the same. a fierce throw his way, and she misses — the target at least. it manages to swirl upwards, colliding with the wall right above his shoulders instead. a fail in multiple regards. “ fuck … „ she murmurs.   BEAU: Speaking of hitting and belts ... the ball sails easily above his, and above the target, landing against the plastic wall behind him, and falling into the water below. Classic — and something that couldn't have gone better for him. "Hey, Newman, you're supposed to hit the target. Not try and take my head off." A sarcastic tut, face miserable but eyes twinkling with the joy of getting one over her, at least for a minute. "That's very violent of you. There's families here, you know."
LETHA: there’s an urge — never ceasing in its tumorous growth — to strangle beauregard rochester. if only until he passes out for a minute or two. and if you were to ask anyone, anyone at all, letha newman was not the aggressive type. sometimes passive to a fault, practically running from confrontation when presented with it. yet … beau. beau fucking rochester. a cartoon iteration of the event would include steam erupting out of her ears and eyes going dark, dark, dark. “ i’m getting there. „ she snaps. “ it’s called building the tension. alright? „ another bill fished out and she hands it off. “ — … ready? „
BEAU: He rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by both her aim and her attempts to justify it. "Born ready — It's a warm day out, I've been trying to get a little swim in." He complains, though tone of voice and the fact that it's even directed at Letha in the first place, shows that he isn't really interested in touching the water. He doesn't hate her — she's merely an annoyance, someone seemingly so set on making him ... well, annoyed. She's certainly digging herself a big hole that leads to more aggressive response through, and a bullseye might speed up the digging process. "We're all waiting on you." We're all including the inhabitant of the booth next to him, maybe, and the bored looking attendant. Not exactly a crowd.
LETHA: beau’s comment cut short, the ball is hurled his way. and to everyone’s surprise, letha’s included, she hit the bullseye. a SMACK, then … a splash. excitement bubbles through her whole being, overshadowing disbelief, and it comes pouring out. feet leaving gravel, the triumph is celebrated through a delighted squeak, and a victory dance ensuing. including hops of pure delight as she struggle to contain the poor sportsmanship. “ yes, yes, fuck yeah! „ childish, check. entirely justified … check, check, and check. “ sucks to suck, doesn’t it, beau? „ words less than cordial, wide grin presented waters down the hostility.
BEAU: with a satisfying whack against the target — satisfying for letha, at least, he's sure — he falls into the water the words you... trailing off as the seat below him collapses. head coming up out of the cold as he stands, he shakes out his hair in something reminiscent of a wet dog. "beginners luck," he calls out, already hoisting himself back up to the now uncollapsed seat. "or, i guess it'd be second time's the charm? batting 1-1 isn't really success ... though considering your lack of athleticism..." he settles in fully, relaxing back in the chair with eyebrows raised and cockiness entering his tone. bold, for someone now soaking wet. "you probably wouldn't get the baseball metaphor."
LETHA: with a win, beau’s grip on her had loosened, and the biting remarks became nibbles. still, eyes roll as they always would.   “   i have other places to be, you know.   „   she points out, though another dollar is fished out and handed off. douche.   “   best out of three?   „   a purely rhetorical question as a ball is immediately swung —— hitting the target for a second time; the same glee erupting in her chest, all whilst lips press into a fine line in forced composure.
BEAU: he falls again, same motions repeated — stand in the water, climb back up, make a snide comment towards letha. the third part was a daily occurrence, no need for a dunk tank to exacerbate feud. alright, now he'd gave to think a little to annoy her.  "other places? " comment is interrupted as he climbs back into the chair. " i didn't realise the pool's snack stand was all that intriguing. " a beat, and her calls out to the dunk tank attendant, "hey, give her her money back. she needs it." back to letha. "you're welcome to keep getting your aggression out. my treat!"
LETHA: and there it is again, that beauregard induced agitation. it trickles back in : overcoming momentary bliss and triumph, urging her to ignore the attendant’s puzzled stare … and reach out for a new, unpaid for, ball. it doesn’t linger in her possession for long — instead catapulted out of her grasp, the way of beau. and it hits. just not what she’d aimed for. hands instinctively snap to her mouth, stifling a gasp as the ball tumbles into the water. although letha hadn’t aimed at his face, convincing him otherwise would be futile.   “   oh my god!   „  she exclaims, moving towards the dunk tank : coming to a full stop before she’s within an arm’s length. to be safe.   “   are you okay?   „
BEAU: taunts all in good fun — at least fun for him, perhaps a little cruel headed in her direction — are ended when the ball sails well over the target and way off from the target. at least his baseball metaphor had been inaccurate, but the bright green of the tennis ball had smacked squarely into his eye. hand flies up to it, and the seat shakes with sudden stunned movement, but luckily, does not fall as letha rushes up to him. yet. an attempt to beckon her closer with momentary sympathy he know's he'll lose, hand remains firm on eye. "does it look too bad?"
LETHA: he’s not yelling. though rather than luck, she considers it the calm before the storm. a grimace, letha takes another step to further investigate damage done.   “   no.   „   she lies. poorly at that, and her face is bound to give her away.   “   … you’re bleeding.   „   a fact which does not bode well for letha newman … or her financial reliance on the spoiled, albeit injured, brat ahead.
BEAU: mechanics of the dunk tank are mystifying, and beau assumes rather than rentals, someone in eden must have made them themselves. sides low enough to send water careening out if there's a particularly sudden fall, they're stationed by the hoses for constant refills. no cage surrounding them, a safety violation if he's ever seen one — and now he reaps the consequences of that part. lastly — falls not only triggered by the pushing of the target, but of sudden movement ... and a tiny lever under the seat. hand removed fully from eye as if to investigate, hand swings under him, sending an injured beau falling downwards suddenly ... and quite a bit of water over the sides of the tank and, at least partially, over letha. vague, weak revenge doesn't do as much to satiate frustration as he thinks it would, and once fall is over and shock from the sudden injury is placated, annoyance fills his tone. "there must seriously be something seriously fucking wrong with you if you lash out like that," he grumbles, voice raised. "we've got lawyers on retainer, you know." good ones, the rochester's wealth a secret to neither of them, even if threat is empty. he touches his eye gently. bleeding he is indeed, and the area around it is sure to bruise.
LETHA: despite a hurried step back, beau manages to soak her from the waist and down. fair enough. she would take this over a shiner any day. a truth kept to herself as she hurries to her own defence. voice whiny and childish —— sounding more like a little kid caught with its hand in the cookie jar than an apologetic adult.   “   it was an accident!*   „   she was starting to wish it hadn’t been. he deserved it. if not for today then for all the previous combined.   “   and there’s nothing wrong with me.   „    that was up for debate. luckily, he was unaware of the turmoil which possessed her life. aside for the financial portion.   “  i mean, i’m not the one threatening to go crying to daddy. what are you, beau, five?   „
BEAU: he scoffed, so enraptured with both his injury and taking out the blame for it on letha that it didn’t seem to matter that he was still standing waist deep in water. at least he was prepared enough to wear swim trunks — no matter what level of cockiness, someone was bound to hit him in multiple times throughout the day. he just didn’t anticipate it would be letha. twice. he recomposes, gone is what's gained from increased anger ... and he's returned to the usual level of annoyed back & forth for benefit of his own pride. “oh — i’m five? you’re the one hurling things at people because you got your feelings hurt. little playground etiquette for you, newman. you don’t get to kick sand because someone has more toys than you.” his eye hurt like a bitch, but he wasn't about to nurse it in front of her. as far as letha could be concerned, he was barely phased by her antics.
LETHA: jean sticks to her legs, chafing wet thighs and adding another layer of thick, impenetrable annoyance to the situation.   “   i wish it’d been on purpose.   „   a snap in her voice, letha grabs a bundle of — previously folded, now crumbled — singles.   “  in fact, i wish i’d broken your big, stupid friggin’ nose.   „   temptation is found in the act of tossing change onto the ground but manners keep a fist from unclenching where she stood. pacing back to baffled attendant, letha hands her the whole of the day’s budget. and then, like the five year old she was so insistent not to be, she spins back around.   “   it’d probably look better.   „   juvenile but satisfactory, she adds punctuation with a classic storm off.
BEAU: watching with raised eyebrows — or, raised eyebrow, considering that any movement near the other eye was painful enough. "my nose isn't big, it's strong, and it is considered attractive in many cultures!" beau called out, but letha had already turned on her heel and stormed away. typical: starting a fight, couldn't take the heat ... he climbs up back past the seat, and makes his way out of the tank, ice pack waiting for him as the attendant places letha's crumbled bills into the EDEN CHARITY FAIR fanny packs. man, is he glad he doesn't have to wear one of those. somewhat turned off by the fact that the dunk tank had been so prepared for injury, after a minute or two of standing around, he resumes his prior position, eye feeling only slightly better, still stewing at letha's purposeful attack.
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Hullo! I was wondering if you could write a shiro x Curtis x Adam story where Curtis is struggling with his mental health and the abuse he faced in the past while trying to act as if he’s okay only to have Adam or shiro find out how bad he’s actually doing accidentally. Sorry if this is a bit of an angsty request I just thought you could make the ending cute. Have a lovely day!
Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender
Characters: Adam, Curtis, and Takashi Shirogane
A/N: Hi, a month or more and eight-nine pages later I have finished! I honestly got too into this prompt, I hope you enjoy! I also didn’t get a chance to spell check so I apologize if there are any errors.
Description: After an encounter with an eight legged intruder, Curtis finds himself in a miserable situation. After some times, he opens up to his husbands of two years and explains his back story and why they’ve only seen his grandmother and sister. 
_
He’d always been taught to be reserved, to shut his mouth and keep it shut. He was taught through fear and pain to be obedient, and to be independent. It wasn’t until the tender age of fourteen that he could get away, to study on a government base and become someone successful. But he was influenced and heavily, mentally damaged. His husbands never seemed to notice however, and that’s how Curtis Shirogane liked it. 
Adam and Shiro had their own issues to deal with as it was. Between Shiro’s PTSD, Adam’s anxiety, and even beyond any disorders influenced by their time in space and apart from each other. To Curtis, bringing his issues to them felt like a burden; almost as if his problems were less important in comparison. 
From this, he kept his feelings hidden, only showing them to his dog. Cuddles in the dark of the night, only being illuminated by cartoons on the large television screen; walks around town, stopping to relax in the park and stare at the clouds or stars, Spice truly was his best friend.
But…. Spice couldn’t always help him. Sometimes he needed the touch of another human, the attention, the love, and even the protection. The protection from what? From his thoughts. They’re intrusive and reminding, they haunt Curtis on a weekly basis…. Which lately had been becoming more daily.
The presence of an eight legged intruder certainly didn’t help their either. 
Gray eyes were wide as sunkissed hands shook. Soft lips trembled, twitching ever so slightly as something tried to come out from the sealed, flesh doors; but nothing could. Curtis was frozen on the spot in fear, a mug of coffee in his hand. The words coming from a returning, jog sweaty Shiro reached his ears like muffled whispers as the world focused in on one thing and one thing only: spider. 
His pulse was increased, anxiety kicking in as all his senses focused on one object only. ‘Your not in the cage, your in your home,’ a voice inside his head called. ‘Get a hold of yourself! The others will notice! You don’t want them to leave your childish ass, do you?’ But the youngest of the three could not move. Curtis stood stiff and silnet, the rest of the world fading out. “Curtis,” the muffled voice called out softly. Shiro had noticed the other’s noticed  lack of response. It wasn’t like Curtis to space out on something unless he was extremely bored or feeling awkward, but he had just come down and given Shiro a kiss in exchange for coffee. 
For him to space out now made no sense. It wasn’t until the coffee in the mug started to drip on the floor that the older became more alert; Curtis was shaking. The shorter rushed over, taking Curtis gently into a hug before studying his face. It wasn’t too cold i the house and Curtis was a healthy man, he had no medical issues. In Shiro’s panicked mind he was looking for anything to answer the question of what was going on. “Morning,” a new voice came from the doorway. The soothing, deep, groggy voice usually would soothe the two.
Adam yawned as he rubbed the sleep out of his good eye. Glancing forward, he could make out the blurry images of his two husbands hugging in the middle of the kitchen. He quirked a brow before hearing Shiro’s panicked voice. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he cried softly. Was something wrong? Damn, the brunette should have brought his glasses down. 
“What do you mean?” He sounded slightly alarmed as he walked closer. The lack of animals present clued him into something very much being wrong, or that they hadn’t noticed yet. As the professor moved closer, he could hear the harsh breath of the youngest of the trio. “Curtis?” Adam gently touched his arm, earning a jolt. 
Shiro watched as gray eyes darted to the place he’d been touched before quickly moving back to the floor. That moment is what scared the veteran the most. A trained reaction, Curtis had a trained, survival reaction. Taking the mug slowly, Shiro set it on the island’s cutting board before looking closely to where Curtis was. 
His focused was distracted by his own thoughts and theories. Could Curtis have PTSD too? Why had he never shown signs before? Had he shown signs before and Adam and himself never noticed? It wasn’t until the small, dark creature moved from a black square to a white one that the other noticed the cause of fear. 
Shock came over Shiro as he looked up to see Curtis’s gaze. Adam was trying to get him to look at him, or his attention in general, but no matter where his face was, his eyes were on the white tile now. Aracnaphobia? Shiro squished the small intruder, a small feeling of guilt coming over him as he did so. 
Lance had arachnophobia though…. He would act similar but not as drastic. Everyone was different, yes, but Curtis was acting as if he was being hunted by a predator; like his life was at stake. When Shiro moved his socked foot away, Curtis could see the result of the action. His nerves slowly relaxed as his shaking started to slow. His heart rate started to function normally once more, eyes relaxing as arms wrapped around him comfortingly. “Curtis,” Adam asked with worry as he rubbed the smaller’s arm. “Are you alright?” 
Gary met gary as Shiro started to stand with equally worry filled eyes. Curtis’s watered as his face turned red from embarrassment and shame. “Yeah, sorry.” He tried to move from Adam’s hold rather quickly. As he broke free and headed for his coffee, Shiro stopped him. “Hey…. we’re here if you need to ever talk you know.” The taller nodded as he took his mug. “I know.” As he turned on his heel to leave, the other two husbands looked at each other with looks of worry. 
They wouldn’t push the matter, but they would ask someone else if they knew anything. The only family Adam and Shiro had ever been introduced to was Curtis’s sister: Hannah, and his grandmother: Muriel. Whenever visiting Muriel’s small apartment or Hannah’s home, Adam noticed there were never any pictures of anyone from Curtis’s side of the family but the three. There was no discussion about parents, neither husband ever bothered to ask. The same went for aunts, uncles, and cousins.
It wasn’t until now that all of this crossed his mind: were Curtis and Hannah victims of abuse? His heart stopped as his stomach turned to lead. He looked to Shiro was dread filled eyes as he handed Adam the phone. They’d try Hannah first and hope not to open any old wounds. 
The phone call with Hannah was brief as she was having morning sickness, but her husband seemed to tip them rather generously. Muriel had told him some of the kids’ past, but he felt it wasn’t his place to tell them. Following the directions, Adam felt his eyes burn as emotion came over him, Shiro hiding his face in his hands. “They hide it pretty well, don’t they?” The question would forever haunt the two husbands. “I… I guess,” Shiro answered, voice wavering. He could hear Muriel choking up on her side of the phone. 
“That’s my fault. They came to me and told me what was happening. Neither were liars, but I knew neither wanted to live with that piece of shit. So I asked their mother, and didn’t see them for almost a year after. They refused to talk to me about home or almost anything again after that. It was almost like a tease and I didn’t realize it until Hannah moved out for college and Curtis came and asked me to enroll him in the Garrison.”
Neither husband realized she had so much money until now. She’d been saving her whole life and put so much of it into where Curtis and Hannah’s parents should have. ‘It’s my fault he’s like this, Hannah too. I’m sorry boys. Just…. Give him some space for a while so he can calm down. The only other person he’s ever told about this was Ryan Kinkade, the others just started to mimic his actions whenever there was a spider or a fight. They were like his knights.”
Shiro started to rub Adam’s back as he collapsed slightly into himself. They could hear the older woman crying. “I should have been there for them, I should hav….. I’m sorry.” She took a breath to bring herself away from her guilt. “I’ll talk to you boys later. Let me know if you have any other questions, alright?” Shiro took the phone off of speaker before replying softly into the mic. With a click of a button, he set the device down face first onto the counter. 
“It’s been two years,” Adam growled softly. Shiro hugged him softly, kissing his head. Adam had always been the more emotional based one; as in he knew what to do give certain situations or at least how to act. “Adam,” Shiro sighed, not knowing how to react right now. “We were talking about having kids Takashi. Kashi we don’t even know him! He’s been dealing with this on his shoulders for most of his life and hasn’t said anything to us, ever!” 
Shiro sat back as Adam started to mash his emotions into one. He was angry at himself and Shiro for this, neither had ever thought anything of Curtis that way. Sure, he didn’t like fighting, but neither did Keith when he started to live with them. But they had separate reactions, which meant Adam and Shiro had different reactions to it. Neither questioned anything for over two years of marriage, for three of being together. 
“We couldn’t have….. He didn’t want to talk to us about it. If you compose yourself we can try to check on him.” Shiro was trying to just stay calm. He was hurt and…. Felt terrible; but this wasn’t the time for self pity. They were going to have a talk with Curtis about this. If they wanted to be a family they had to trust each other and be open to their issues. Barriers lead to other barriers, which can lead to failure; which is not something you want to have when the three of you have been thinking about a child entering the family. 
Adam gently smacked his arm with a growl as he moved off of the bar stool and walked twoards the sink to rinse his face with some cold water. Shiro was right, now wasn’t the time to tear himself apart; it was the time to make things right. The two took another few minutes to compose themselves before heading off to talk to Curtis. 
Finding him wasn’t hard as Spice was screaming at the bedroom door, wanting to be let in. She knew something was wrong but she wasn’t allowed to enter. What the hell?! She barked, growled, whined, scratched, everything. Looking over her shoulder when she heard people coming up the stairs, she whined before getting mouthy and scratching at the door more. 
Adam let out a soft sigh before opening it for her. The mutt barreled into the room, circling the bed before pouncing onto it. Curtis jumped up when the door opened, white blankets flying forward before being forced down by large paws. The other looked to his husbands in fear before being distracted by a loving, wet tongue. 
He grunted before being fully pushed down by his over-sized, baby girl. “S-Spice,” he giggled. He started to giggle as a wet nose joined in the mix, moving around his face. Damn it, he was so ticklish! He giggled more as another dog joined the cuddle party. The tall, camo looking dog snuffed at the attempted service dog before growling at her. This was her human and her time for comfort!
Shiro jumped in quickly to pick up the small mixed breed before Spice took a chunk out of her face. “Curtis,” Adam asked softly as he tried to free him from Spice, “are you alright?” The other held his dog softly, slowly soothing her so he could breathe. “Yeah…. I’m sorry.” Sorry? “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Shiro stated as he set his dog in the hallway. “Stay here Pumpkin, okay?” She looked at him sadly before walking over to Adam’s cat (Coffee) and heading for the living room. 
“I know but… it was a little dramatic of a reaction.” He shyly scratched his baby’s ears before moving behind them. “Your…. Grandmother told us.” The scratches stop, gray eyes widening before looking to the two in shock. “We…. we should have realized sooner. I’m…. we’re so sorry love.” Shiro stood beside where Adam sat on the queen sized mattress. The other turned his head, holding Spice close. “What did she tell you?”Shiro and Adam looked a bit shocked before looking to each other with concern. “Well,” Shiro started. “The spider ordeal. Curtis, your safe, I promise.” It did mean a lot to hear that from Shiro; he knew what it was like to feel like this, but in his own way. “She regrets opening her mouth to…. Her daughter,” Adam joined. Curtis sighed. 
“She’d lost her job, and my dad couldn’t support us. To save money after my grandfather left her, grandma downsized to her current apartment and my mom refused to live with her for it. She had other issues with grandma but she never talked about it. 
“Dad suggested her brother, my uncle. She agreed as she had a grudge with grandma over something.”  Adam moved closer, sitting with crossed legs to listen to the other. Shiro sat on the edge of the bed, a hand resting on Spice as he listened. 
“I was ten, Hannah was fourteen. We shared a room across from his, our parents were on the other side of the house, in the garage, and another door lead to a level below that. Even if they could hear us, it didn’t matter. We spoke up to our grandmother for help once and….. Mom fucking,” both sat up right. Curtis, swearing? 
“She left a boot print on Hannah’s face and a hand print on both of my cheeks. We both started wearing makeup to school, otherwise we weren’t allowed to go.” He sounded slightly scattered, but if he was willing to share, the others wouldn’t say anything about it. 
“Old man slapped me when I told him about the cage and our uncle, said we deserved it for not being grateful for our home. Grateful for what? Having every Christmas present they spent money on destroyed in front of us by foot or fire, not allowed to move as he did so? 
“We stopped asking for things, the holidays had no joy anymore. Halloween, our costumes would be ruined, candy stolen; if we were even allowed outside that was. Thanksgiving was quiet, the adults only spoke. I can’t even remember anything else for holidays. If we were anything they didn’t want in that moment we were punished, even if we were just staying in our room. 
“Hannah was the first. He locked her in an old dog cage with blankets and Mr. Fuzz, but the lights were on. She tried to befriend the spider despite her fear and he tried to bite her. I have no idea if he was venomous or not, but we neer wanted to find out.” His eyes started to water as he snuggled under Spice more. The rescue whimpered before nuzzling him more, kissing his cheek.. 
Adam gently moved his hand forward to rub his husband’s back gently. Curtis jumped before sighing slightly, allowing the touch. “He always shoved me in that fucking cage, locked it with a key and shut the lights off. He’d touch me arms and back, trying to distract me… think it was on me. I would have to focus in the dark to see any movement. To get to… that point.” He started to shake gently before shaking his head. “Hannah left me for college, and I begged my grandmother to put me in the Garrison. 
“When I didn’t come back for the holidays, my mom started to call her, screaming that she took me from her. I was with Kinkade, his family offered me a place to stay over break. I never thought about the consequences, but I’d come so far from the kid that lived in that shit shack; I didn’t want to go back. Next thing I knew I got a call from my grandmother saying she was my caretaker now and I was coming home to her for now on.
“Her and Hannah put restraining orders on our parents and uncle, we still had to share a room when she came home but it was easier now.” He felt tears drip down his face before he received a kiss on his cheek. Curtis whimpered before leaning into the soft touch of the lips, Shiro joining in with his robotic hand. It stroked the dark locks in hopes to calm the male down. 
Two hours it took, two hours. Curtis was sandwiched between the two, finally calm. His cheeks were damp and pink, brows up turned as he received more nuzzling. “You can always talk to us,” Shiro hummed as he looked sadly into tired, bloodshot, gray eyes. He nodded. “I’m sorry. Just…. You both have your own issues, I didn’t want to add mine to the stress.” He jumped when Adam poked his stomach. “Too bad. We were worried about you, damn it. Speak up.” Curtis smiled softly before nodding. “Yeah, sorry Adam.” He received a kiss on the eyelids, his favorite place. 
He looked so exhausted, yet still rather depressed. Shiro grinned a bit before moving a hand to Curti’s neck. Both pairs of eyes fell onto him curiously. “Shiro?” Adam propped himself up slightly in interest. The other smiled dorkily. “Well…. If we are talking about kids, we’re all going to have to be able to slay eight-legged intruders.” He looked into the oldest of the three’s eyes. Adam was confused, but after hearing Curtis squeal for human fingers spidering on his neck, he understood. 
“Whahhahat,” Curtis exclaimed as he was assaulted. Adam gently moved to his ribs. Spice had left for a bathroom break during the cool down session and hadn’t been allowed back inside just yet; which meant the two had all the room in the world to torment the poor guy until he was happy. Curtis shrieked, jolting around. He still wasn’t used to physical affection so much as tickling. He made Keith and Shiro look like clingy, cuddle bugs with how much affection he gave. 
Adam had to demand affection from one husband, but he really had to demand it from the other; but both were blunt and didn’t quite understand the message. They tried their damndest to be gentle and light when it came to touches and places to attack. “Plehehehase dhahahaon’t,” the youngest squealed as he curled more into Shiro; who was hardly touching him anymore. 
“We’re trying to help out with your fear dear,’ adam teased softly into his ear. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” Curtis felt like the innocence he’d left behind at ten. A single digit, aged version of himself just falling victim to his parents’ and sister’s mercy.
Hyper ticklish skin making the best memories of his childhood, from when they were a family.… from when they were a real, loving family. As Adam started to stop, Curtis gently moved the other’s hand to his stomach, a small frown on his face. His eyes were sad but… he didn’t truly want it to stop. It used to be such a comforting and calming feeling, a joyful and playful one. 
It wasn’t until he started at the Garrison that he’d really had bonding experiences like this, and even then it was rare. But after marrying these two dorks, he found himself cuddled, hugged, tickled, kissed, and every soft action of affection that was out there almost on a daily basis. 
Adam spidered his fingers over the taught surface, teasing softly as Shiro moved to hold Curtis better. The hug was firm yet loose, comforting and soft. Curtis melted into it, giggling and screaming like a mad man as “spiders” continued to roam his surface in hopes of curing his phobia little at a time. 
Slowly but surely, the dou let him, laying to cuddle on the large mattress. Lips trailed up and down the youngest’s neck, earning soft giggles. Curtis brought his hands up to hold their heads softly as he squirmed about like a worm. Adam let out a snort before finally stealing a kiss on the lips, Shiro following in suit. “I’m sorry,” Curtis whimpered after the affection and loving high wore away. “Don’t be sorry,” Shiro reassured quickly. “We’re the ones that should be apologizing.” Curtis shook his head. 
“Just…. Not used to opening up so much.” His gray eyes widened before he let out a gasp, jumping into Adam. Shiro gave him a look, hand clawed to strike again. “Nhahaha! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Adsm!” The last part of the cry of anticipation was a whine as Curtis rolled to hide in the tallest of the three. Adam held him close with a small smile and roll of his eyes. “Alright, alright. ‘Kashi, I think he needs a break.” 
Shiro smiled a bit before sandwiching Curtis between them. “As long as he doesn’t act like he thinks he’s a burden again, we’ll see.” Curtis could feel the smirk behind him. His stomach filled with butterflies and he felt almost weightless. However, he also felt his eyes growing heavy. Slowly, he calmed his breathing and nuzzled into the A cups before him. Paws rejoined the groups as fur babies fit in where they could, surrounding and covering the husbands on the bed. 
“Night,” Shiro said softly before kissing Curtis’s temple and Adam’s lips. Adam made the kiss last before pulling away with a small, secure, smile. 
So, even though Curtis let go of his blood family (with the exception of his grandmother and sister), he had the family he made for himself; the family he wore matching rings to, the family that was brought together through friendship, brotherhood, and even paws. He was so happy to be where he was now, even if it meant opening up to his family more.
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parkrstark · 6 years
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who needs pictures?
based on this song (X)
It took him a while after everything happened to even go near Peter’s side of the lab. It had been months, maybe even a year already since he’d be gone. It felt like a million lifetimes. Tony lost track of time when all of the days merged into one long nightmare.
He only started looking through all of the stuff he had shoved in the desk drawers because May was looking for one of Peter’s old notebooks. She couldn’t find it in his bedroom and of course, the only other place that managed to collect all of the kid’s things was in the tower. Either in the spare room that had slowly turned into Peter’s or his section in the lab.
He didn’t mean to make it an all day affair, but every little thing he found had him distracted for a while.
He clicked on the old DS he had shoved in the top drawer and it still had his Animal Crossing game inside. Tony winced as he walked the little guy character (Peter named him Han Solo. Of course, he did) around the town, through the weeds that had taken over every spot on the ground. Peter used to always make sure to check his town routinely so there was never one weed in sight.
There was a plastic spoon in the bottom drawer that once lit up when you clicked the button. It was red with a faded cartoon picture of both Iron Man and Spider-Man on it. Peter had gotten it out of a box of cereal when the public first started noticing Spider-Man and Iron Man’s unlikely partnership. He had it hidden in here so no one ever used it and “tainted its awesomeness”.
Peter kept his fidget toy, one of many, on his desk. It had been a present from Tony when he noticed how the kid was always fidgeting. Especially when he was sitting in the lab doing nothing else but homework or something that didn’t involve much moving. He threw it to the kid one day after school nonchalantly. He’d been hesitant to use it until Tony told him about the collection of stress balls he had; there wasn’t ever a time when he didn’t have one in his pocket. Tony had spoiled the kid with dozens of fidget toys; some he loved, some he liked, and some he wasn’t a big fan of. When Tony was in a store, usually a gas station, they’d sell them by the cash register and Tony bought one he thought Peter would like. He even ordered special Star Wars ones.
When he reached the camera however, he froze. Of course, it had its own special drawer. Peter took care of that thing like it was his literal baby. He used to talk to it sometimes. He named it...Tony thought hard to Peter got it for his birthday from May (she had saved up months to get it for him and the look on his face when he opened it was well worth, even Tony knew). He had been there, but Peter hadn’t named it until a few days. He claimed he needed to pick a name that felt right. Four days after his birthday, he walked into the lab with the strap around his neck and holding the camera tucked safely in his hands against his chest.
“Meet Paisley!”
“Finally named it, kid?”
“Named her, Mr. Stark.”
Tony smiled at the memory, lifting the camera up and brushed away the layer of dust that covered the screen. He tried the power button, but nothing happened. Dead. He sighed, ready to put it back in the drawer when something stopped him. He turned it carefully in his hands and popped open the SD card insert.
He put the camera in the drawer and then went over to his main desk where he had a computer capable of showing the contents of the SD card. He stuck it in and waited for the monitor to load the pictures.
The first on the screen hit hard.
Peter was staring right at the camera smiling so widely. And with the high quality the camera took pictures in and his compute showed pictures on, it was almost like Peter was right in front of him again. He reached a hand out and his fingers hit the screen.
Peter had a weird tradition of “baptizing” each of his SD cards. He always took the same first picture. Whoever he was with when he replaced it, he threw an arm around their shoulder and took a selfie. Tony was usually the one caught, though he had a few with May, Ned, Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper.
Tony was in this one. He was staring down at one of his tablets, not giving the camera a glance. But Peter was there, next to him on the couch, pulling him in close and smiling. Tony wished he had looked up...just to see that smile on the kid’s face. But he didn’t. Because that had be a normal thing for Peter to do. Tony never thought there’d be a day where he wasn’t there to fill up empty SD card and start with an impromptu photo session.
He’d never get a chance to do that again. He took that moment for granted just as often as Peter took the picture.  
He swiped to the next photo and smiled. They were a lot miscellaneous shots of people and places Peter loved.
There was May raising a pair of chopsticks to her mouth as she sat across from him in what looked like a restaurant. Which Tony bet it was. Whenever she tried to cook, that’s usually where they ended up.
Ned sitting in a pile of hundreds of Legos they had dumped all over Peter’s bedroom floor.
A view of the city streets from a very high spot somewhere Peter perched to get the perfect shot.
Happy petting a orange cat, Murphy was his name if Tony remembered correctly, that sat on a counter of Peter’s favorite deli.
May and Pepper laughing as they sat on a couch, each with a champagne glass in their hands.
Endless photos of dogs in the park.
Tony sitting on Rhodey as they played Mario Kart, so he could win.
Ned making a funny face in the camera as he sat in a library with a book open in front of him.
Happy yelling out his window as they drove, Peter was sitting in the passenger seat.
A duck walking down a city street.
Tony working on something in his lab.
Peter liked taking candid shots of Tony in the workshop. Sometimes Tony was glancing at the camera from the corner of his eyes, but most times he had no idea the picture was being taken.
God, Tony. Why didn't you ever take a fucking second just to look? Look up at what you had. The kid was always there. And now, he’d never be there again.
He swiped through the dozens of photos Peter took of Tony in the lab, mixed with a few of the bots hanging around.
(Tony’s favorite was the one he took himself. Peter, U, and Dum-E were sleeping on the floor in a sea of blankets Peter had set up for the four of them to watch a movie. He had made sure to drape a blanket over each of them.)
He smiled when he realized what the majority of this SD card was full of: Peter and Tony’s roadtrip to Florida over the summer. They had a big trip planned to Disney World for the kid’s 17th birthday. He’d always wanted to go to Disney World and one of the parks was practically throwing up Star Wars. There was a ride, character meet and greets, parades, firework, shows, and more just for this movie.
So, it was a no brainer where Peter was going to celebrate his day.
Except there was one problem: Peter was deathly afraid of planes. Ever since the night he crashed the Stark plane on Coney Island. So, flying to Florida was not an option. At least not for Peter.
Tony remembered when they surprised him with the tickets and told him about the private jet that would get them there in no more than 2 hours. He hands started to shake. Tony didn’t hesitate before saying Peter didn’t have to take the plane. (“I’m thinking about driving down, if you want to join. I could use the company”)
Sure, one day, Tony would help Peter get over his fear of flying, but he didn’t need to do that when he was going to celebrate his birthday. He didn’t want the kid to dread the trip. So, Tony and Peter left two days before everyone else did and they started their roadtrip.
It was the best trip Tony had ever taken. He enjoyed the car ride to and back more than the actual vacation, probably.
The collection of vacation photos started with Tony packing the car with their suitcases. Tony was looking over his shoulder as a bag on the top was about to fall over on his head. (“A little help, Parker?”).
Tony steering the wheel with one hand and shoving a fast food burger in his mouth with the other. (“Who the fuck puts mustard on a burger? Are their taste buds that dead?”)
A random horse Peter had made Tony stop driving for suddenly by screaming, “Stop!” (“Christ, Parker, you’re lucky no one was behind me. Don’t do that again.” “But he’s so pretty, Mr. Stark.”)
Peter’s dirty converse kicked up on the dash and a blur of Tony’s hand, swatting his feet off. (“Unless you want to clean the dashboard with your toothbrush, get your filthy feet off.”)
A sunset Peter made him spend 10 minutes driving to get the perfect shot. (“Peter, the sun is going to be gone by the time you find a spot you like.”)
One that Tony took of Peter fast asleep in the passenger seat, drooling slightly with his head at angle that couldn’t have been good for his neck. (“How do you even sleep like that?”)
Then the next one was Peter sleeping again, this time after Tony leaned over and fixed him so he was in a comfortable position. He leaned the seat back, laid his head in a normal position, and covered him in a blanket. (“See? I take care of you.”)
He continued to skim through the pictures and found the selection of pictured from the actual trip itself. Peter had gone crazy with photos. LIke he snapped a picture of every little thing. He was like those tourists they made fun of in Times Square.
Tony and May had taken a lot of them too when Peter wanted to be in the pictures. The kid almost cried when he saw all the Star Wars shit. There was a show that had an entire dedication to Han Solo, and Tony actually saw him wipe at his eyes quickly. Tony had rolled his eyes, ruffling the kid’s hair.
He continued through the hundred of pictures for what had to have been hours before he reached the last one. Tony packing a full car that overflowing with bags and bags of Disney souvenirs.
Tony didn’t realize he had been crying until there were no more photos to distract him. He sniffled and wiped his wet cheeks.
That was only one SD card...the kid had dozens in his drawer that Tony could look through.
He always took a picture of everything. His face was always behind the lens, taking a photo of something.
Tony told him to put the camera down and live in the moment, but Peter said he didn’t want to forget a single moment.
Tony didn’t understand how he could when it was all so clear in Tony’s mind. He could still close his eyes and remember what had happened in each photo before and after it was taken.
He didn’t need these photos to remember Peter.
Peter was the most vivid memory in his mind every time he closed his eyes.
Sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse.
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Tag Game~
Oh, why did I wait so long to do this? So many people tagged me! So many~
Placing everything under a read more cause this is about 40 questions long
@sebthur
1. do you like pineapples on your pizza?
I'll fully admit I've never tried it. But I am squarely in the 'no' category. It's just unappetizing to me.
2. how much bubble you want when you take a bath? all of them? none at all?
ALL THE BUBBLES! The tub will be overflowing with bubbles!
3. favorite scent?
Rain, specifically rain on asphalt. It's just, soothing, and can pull me right out of a bad mood.
4. what's your all time favorite movie?
I don't really watch a lot of movies. But I do love the Phantom of the Opera!
5. if money DID grow on trees... what is the first thing u would buy?
I'd move into a nice little home, no HOA, no super close neighbors, it'd be peaceful.
6. did u drink water today?
Uuhh...not water specifically. Gatoraid doesn't really count as water, it's mostly sugar.
7. if not, do it now! stay hydrated! did u eat?
I ate! Fast food, cause I live super far away from where I work, and I can't cook for nuthin, but I ate!
8. whats ur dream job?
I'd like to be a voice actor someday~
9. have you ever heard of upgamers?
No, I haven't. It sounds like updog though, so I am wary.
10. Can you play an instrument? which one?
I don't really count this as being able to play, but I used to own a guitar and I liked to pluck the strings when I got stressed. I don't know why I got rid of it.
11. have you listened to your favorite song today? do it now
I haven't listened to hardly any music for the past week, I need some music~
@nocturnofshadow
1. Dream vacation destination, go!
Home, in my bed, and not having to leave it for about a week. Sounds like heaven.
If I had to pick an ACTUAL location though, Ireland, it just sounds so beautiful there.
2. if you got any novels laying about, go and flip though and pick the twenty-second line - what's it say?
I'm assuming we're going by sentences here. "Psychologically warped; possessed by demons." - 22nd sentence of Wicked.
3. Got any favourite stims? Plastic click-clacks, squishy things, rubbing into a specific spot til it's smooth, ect. Tell me about it!
Hmm. I have a pretty rainbow metallic fidjet spinner, though I don't really use it. Mostly cause when I really need a stim I'm at work where I'm not allowed to have them. So I usually click or tap my pen when I get antsy at work.
4. Favourite scene in a viddy game? (alternatively, fave scene in a book, movie, ect.)
Currently my favorite scene in a game is in Red Dead Redemption 2! When the gang leaves the snowy mountains to head to Horseshoe overlook, the scene with the music is just absolutely beautiful, and it's my absolute favorite thing ever!
5. Favourite aesthetic and why! (old west, european gothic, ect.)
A sort of witchy style, a little bit gothic, but beautiful crystals hanging around, with herbs and flowers and AH~ :D
6. What's your go-to song when you're seeing red? Does it help calm you down, or add fuel to the fire?
Pretty much any music has a calming effect on me, it helps me drift off into my own little world. I don't have a specific song, but I usually listen to softer rock songs.
7. If you write as a hobby, do you still use pen and paper? Or do you prefer typing?
Typing, all the way. My handwriting is an absolute mess and sometimes even I can't decipher the symbols on the page.
8. How long do dishes normally sit in your sink before you get around to them? If you have any sitting around, this is your reminder to get them done!
All of my plates and stuff are disposable for this very reason. I rarely eat at home anyway.
9. Do you have a favourite Hozier song?
I actually had to look up who this was, I never really pay much attention to singer's and bands, and I have heard a few of his songs. I particularly like the Arsonist's Lullaby and In The Woods Somewhere.
10. Do you hoard music playlists? If so, whats the general vibe of those playlists and on which platform? (youtube, spotify, ect.)
I don't really hoard playlists, I usually hear a song and go; 'I wanna hear more like this' and make a new playlist. I use Pandora, and my playlists are mostly rock with a few country, pop, and, I'm not sure how to describe it, celtic? I guess.
@cupofcowboys / @fangirl-ramblings
1. Are you a book reader? if so what are you reading currently?
I am a book reader, though I'm not AVID. Nor am I currently reading anything, too in deep of reading and writing RDR2 fanfiction.
2. If you could time travel where in time would you go?
OH NONONONONO! I know the butterfly effect, thank you but no. I'm also rather happy in the timezone I'm in.
3. Is it hot or cold (weather) where you are in the world right now
Very hot, it's what I get for living in a desert, but hey, it don't snow here~
4. Start your current music playlist, put it on random and tell me what the next song is.
I use Pandora, so it's already random buut, Something's missing by Sheppard.
5. Pizza or Burgers?
But I like both. ;^;
6. Favourite movie/s
Pretty much anything animated by Disney. Though if I had to pick particular movies, The Lion King, Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, Brave, ect.
7. Favourite band/s
Fall Out Boy, Panic at the Disco, Linkin Park, Nickelback, Halestorm, My Chemical Romance. About the only band names I remember, lol.
8. How many concerts have you been to?
That I bought a ticket for? None.
Though, My Chemical Romance did a free gig here about 3 or 4 years ago and I went to see that.
9. If you won millions and millions of dollars what would be the first thing you do.
I would become a literal hermit. Lol, I'd move into a cute little house, and never be seen again.
Maybe I'd pop out every now and again and become a cryptid. Lol
10. One thing you like about yourself?
About myself? I like my hair, took me years to admit, I used to absolutely hate it as a child, I had a mop of curly ginger hair and it always got me unwanted attention. It still does, but I'm a BIT better at just taking the compliment.
@madnessismylover
1. Sun or Moon?
Moon, so soft and gentle and sweet.
2. Would you rather have 20 cats or 20 dogs?
Cats, much as I'd love being smothered by 20 puppies, cats are a little less... needy?
3. Who was your first celebrate crush (that you can remember)?
Steve Irwin. I was 2 or 3.
4. What was your first video game? (and if you don’t play those then what was your first movie)
That I played? Pokemon Blue or Pokemon Gold.
That I owned? Pokemon Ruby.
5. Favorite kid show? (either watched as a kid or watch now)
I love cartoons~ Though I'm particularly fond of Steven Universe, Star VS the Forces of Evil, and Gravity Falls.
6. Favorite decade’s aesthetic? (70s, 80s, 90s, etc,)
I'm a complete 90s kid.
7. Where do you wish you could live?
Not really any location in particular, though I guess Ireland would be nice, maybe Germany or England.
8. Did you have an imaginary friend as a kid? If so what was their name?
I don't remember much about them IMO, I do remember their name was Ash, and they were TALL, like Slenderman levels of tall.
9. What’s something not a lot of people know about you?
I'm actually part Native American! Admittedly, it's a very SMALL part, about five or six generations back but there is a bit in me! And I'm very proud of that small bit.
10. If you had to listen to one song for the rest of your life what would it be?
Oh, that would be torture~ If i HAD to pick, it'd probably be High Hopes by Panic at the Disco, but, it'd still be torture.
MY Questions!
1. How tall are you? Have you dreamed being ever taller?
2. Favorite Youtuber?
3. What is your favorite fairytale?
4. Do you prefer kissing or cuddling?
5. What is the strangest thing you believed as a child?
6. So, what is the funniest pickup line you have ever heard of?
7. On days, when you feel completely bored and demotivated, what helps you to feel energized?
8. 3 things that make you happy?
9. If you could have a superpower what would it be and why?
10. If you had to describe yourself as an animal, which one would it be?
I’m tagging~ @septembershower @i-love-charles @crimsonredemption @mountainhymn aaannnd...I dunno, go for it if you wanna. Lol
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