#his banging stick i mean his beating stick i mean his whacking stick i mean-

[sculkshrieking]

he'll solve any dispute with his whacking stick

[marauderundercover]

The Strings that Bind Us: Ch. 3

 AO3

Prev

Marinette is nervous. It’s worse than any other nerves she’s ever felt. Today was the day she was going to meet Bruce’s sons. They’d been dating for almost two months and even though she’d met Alfred (and often called him to talk and trade recipes), she had yet to meet Bruce’s sons. Mostly because she didn’t want to interrupt their lives. She didn’t want to walk in and meet them and then be gone. Neither of them deserved that. So, she had waited. And now the day was here and she was panicking. She glances around the small grocery store, determined to get the ingredients to make dessert for dinner tonight. Bruce had told her that Dick had an insane sweet tooth, and she didn’t want to bribe the kid, but she really did want him to like her. Bruce had already warned her that Jason was a little less welcoming, but she had hope that the cookies would work on him as well. Grabbing a bag of chocolate chips, she heads over to the frozen section to pick up a few staples.

“I don’t understand why we have to hang out today. I thought you hated us.” A voice says, and she frowns.

“I don’t hate you. And I just wanna warn you, make sure you know that just because she’s here today doesn’t mean she’ll be here tomorrow.” A second voice says. Shaking her head, she moves past, trying hard not to listen to the boys’ conversation as they walk away. It wasn’t her business, after all. She grabs a couple bags of frozen veggies before heading up to the checkout and paying. She leaves the store, taking note of her surroundings as she walks. She looks both ways before crossing the street and heading into the bank. She needed to send some money back home to her parents for the anniversary since she couldn’t be with them in person this year. She’s just about to get to the teller when a loud bang echoes throughout the bank. She whirls around and eyes widen at the man who just entered the building. His suit was interesting, half of it was a solid gray color and the other half was bright and patterned. But that wasn’t what shocked her. What shocked her was the way half his face was completely red and scarred. Well that, and the ten men with guns that walked in behind him. Her eyes dart around the room, searching for anything that may be helpful, when her eyes land on two boys. Both tense as they look at the man, but instead of fear (like everyone else had on their face) the two looked determined.

“Ah, how nice to see the two of you here.” The man says, walking up to the two boys and grabbing the younger one’s wrist tightly. Marinette’s eyes narrow as the boy winces slightly.

“Let him go.” She snaps, storming over and glaring at the man, trying hard to ignore the way the guns were now trained on her.

“Oh and what, you volunteer instead?” He asks, and she scoffs.

“I never said that, now let him go.” She demands, giving the man her worst Ladybug glare. His eyes narrow, but he lets go of the boy and she shifts so that she’s between the two. “Now, why don’t we talk about this like grown ups.” She suggests, crossing her arms.

“Do you know who I am?” The man practically growls. She raises an eyebrow.

“Non. I haven’t been in Gotham for long.” She admits, trying (and failing) to come up with this man’s name. He was obviously one of Gotham’s villains, if the reaction of everyone else was anything to go by. And the fact that he came with goons instead of by himself made her believe he wasn’t your everyday bank robber.

“Tell you what. Since you decided to take the kid’s place, we’ll let the coin decide your fate. Unmarked side, I let you go and you can go on with your day. I’ll even leave the bank.” The man starts, and her stomach drops. Two Face. That was his name. And he was leaving her fate up to chance. To luck. “Scarred side, I shoot you in the head. Or, if you don’t wanna play, we can let the kid play. Whaddya say?” He asks with a grin. She grits her teeth and hopes that her years with Tikki had left her with enough residual luck to make it through this encounter.

“Go ahead. Let the coin decide.” She says, whirling around and hushing the boys behind her who are objecting suddenly. “Not now.” She hisses, terrified that if they object he’ll move along to them next. She turns back to Two Face and nods, watching as he tosses the coin in the air and catches it. Her heart beats out of her chest as she watches him reveal...the unmarked side.

“Looks like lady luck was on your side today.” He says, and his smile almost appears genuine, which makes her stomach churn. “Pack it up boys, we made a deal.” He says, and all of his goons turn to leave with him. They make it all the way out the door before she hears the sirens pulling up. She frowns. The police here were not great at showing up on time, were they? Her eyes widen when she sees Batman drop down, joining the fight. That’s definitely unusual. Turning away from the chaos outside, she turns to the two boys.

“Are you two okay?” She asks, scanning their faces.

“That was really stupid.” The younger one says, a scowl on his face. She ignores him, instead looking at his already bruising wrist.

“May I?” She asks, holding out a hand. He frowns.

“Let her look, Jason.” The older one says, sighing. She smiles at him in thanks before holding the younger boy’s wrist gently. She pokes softly and turns it, trying to make sure there isn’t a break. She glances at the boy’s face to gauge his reactions.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but you should definitely ice it when you get home.” She says softly. The boy just snorts and rolls his eyes, taking his arm back and frowning at her.

“Why’d you do that?” He asks, and her heart aches at how he looks at her. As if he’s suspicious of her. As if someone helping him has to have an ulterior motive.

“Because I don’t appreciate people picking on children.” Marinette says simply. The boy starts to answer, but is cut off by a gruff voice.

“Ma’am, other witnesses are saying you were targeted by Two Face?” She turns and is unsurprised to see Batman.

“Ah, not quite, sir. He actually went straight for these two. I simply diverted his attention somewhere else.” She says.

“Why?” He asks and she blinks in surprise.

“Um, because they’re children? And they’re innocent. I don’t see that there needs to be any more reason than that.” She says. Batman nods.

“The police want your statement. I’ll take the boys’ statements.” He says and she nods, but hesitates to walk away from them.

“Do you boys have someone who can come pick you up?” She asks, not willing to let them walk home alone after something like that. The oldest nods.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Thank you.” He says with a small smile. She sighs and returns the smile, turning to go talk to the police. If she could get through that situation, surely she could survive meeting Bruce’s sons.

---

Marinette squeals as Bruce lifts her and spins her around, before setting her down and kissing her gently.

“What was that for?” She asks, smiling up at him through her lashes.

“Being you.” He says simply. She snorts and whacks his chest gently, rolling her eyes.

“You’re such a goof.” She teases, turning and immediately heading towards the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He asks, slipping his hand into hers.

“To say hi to Alfred and set down the cookies.” She says, swinging their hands as she drags him to the kitchen.

“Good evening, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, a soft smile on his face.

“Evening, Alfred. I brought some cookies for dessert. I hope that’s okay.” She says, letting go of Bruce’s hand to give Alfred a quick hug. The two had grown close in the little time they’d known each other, and Marinette could honestly say that she adored the older man’s company. He was funny, and she often got to hear embarrassing stories about Bruce (not that she’d ever tell him that).

“Mari, just a warning, the boys might be a bit...distant tonight.” Bruce says suddenly, stopping the conversation that she and Alfred were having about his latest attempt at macarons. She frowns.

“Are they okay? Should I leave? We could reschedule, I don’t want to-” She starts to ramble, concerned for the boys. She may not have met them yet, but she’d heard enough stories from Bruce.

“They’re fine, please, stay.” Bruce says, grabbing her hands and turning her so that she faces him. He cups her cheek gently, smiling down at her. “They’re fine, love, I promise.” He says. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding before nodding.

“Did something happen?” She asks. He sighs and lets go of her face, running a hand over his own.

“They were caught up in a Rogue attack downtown.” He says quietly and she gasps.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne!” She scolds, frowning at him. “They were involved in a villain attack and you expect us to just, meet? I doubt either one of them wants to go through the trouble of meeting some completely random person after going through something like that. Mon Dieu Bruce, they may say they’re fine but that has to be emotionally draining.” She says, shaking her head. She pushes the loose strands of hair out of her face, sighing.

“Mari-” He starts, but she shakes her head.

“Bruce, honey, I don’t want to intrude.” She says, standing on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “We can meet on a day when they haven’t been through something traumatic.”

“Well shit. Looks like we’ve already met you little girlfriend B.” A familiar voice says. She whirls around and her eyes widen at the sight of the two boys from the bank standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She glances at Bruce and raises an eyebrow at his tired expression.

“Jason, what have I said about your language?” He asks tiredly. Jason shrugs.

“To not say things like that.” He says, making both Bruce, and the boy that Marinette assumes is Dick, sigh.

“I can still leave.” Marinette offers the boys, ignoring the frown on Bruce’s face.

“To be fair, you went through something traumatic too. Might as well stick around and deal with the trauma together.” Jason snarks. She smiles, though it’s a little forced as she remembers she had almost watched one of Bruce’s sons be shot today. If she hadn’t stepped in….

“It’s nice to meet you in a, er, calmer environment.” She says with a small wave, resisting the urge to lean into Bruce for support. “I’m Marinette Dupain Cheng, but you can call me Marinette. Or Mari, if you want.”

“I’m Richard, but everyone calls me Dick.” Dick greets with a small nod in greeting.

“And I’m Jason, but you knew that.” Jason says, crossing his arms. Marinette just smiles, but this time it isn’t forced. This was going to be interesting.

---

“So, Jason, Bruce tells me that you enjoy reading. Do you have a favorite author?” Marinette asks, trying to keep the conversation going. Both boys were still hesitant, and she wasn’t sure if it was her or the incident from the bank. She hoped it was the latter.

“Not really.” Jason says, hesitating before adding, “I like classics though.” Marinette grins.

“Really? I could never get into them when I was your age, couldn’t sit still long enough.” She says with a laugh. “But in the last couple of years I’ve found myself really enjoying Hugo and Dumas. Oh! And the Brontë sisters.” She adds, eyes lighting up as Jason grins.

“Have you read Hunchback of Notre Dame?” He asks and she laughs.

“They may have thrown me out of Paris if I hadn’t.” She teases. She feels herself relax as she talks to Jason about books, grinning at the boy’s enthusiasm and genuine love for literature. It reminded her of how much she loved designing before she got so caught up in Hawkmoth. She feels someone hold her hand, and she sneaks a glance at Bruce, smiling softly at him and squeezing his hand before turning her attention back to Jason. The rest of dinner flies by, with the conversation mostly being led by her and Jason. Dick is much less talkative. Which contradicts many of the stories Bruce had told about him. Though, many of those stories were from when he was younger. Once it’s time for dessert, Marinette stands to help Alfred clear the dinner plates.

“Miss Marinette, I can bring in the dessert just fine.” Alfred scolds, gesturing for her to sit down. She just grins.

“I know, Alfred, but you already made a lovely dinner. Let me help.” She says, grabbing some of the plates and following him into the kitchen. Once the kitchen door swings shut, she starts clearing the plates and glances at him nervously. “Do you think the boys like me?” She asks, worried.

“I believe young Master Jason does. And although he may not act like it, I do believe Master Dick does as well. He just needs time to be able to show it.” He says, and Marinette feels the tension in her shoulders seep out. She nods, glancing back towards the dining room.

“I really like him, Alfred.” She says quietly, afraid that Bruce or one of the boys would hear her. “I don’t wanna mess this up.” She admits.

“If I may be frank, Miss, Master Bruce has smiled more in the past two months than I’ve seen in years.” Alfred says, and Marinette blushes. She feels her chest warm and she sighs happily.

“I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in years either.” She admits, smiling softly at Alfred before grabbing the cookies and taking them out to the dining room. This was the happiest she’d been since Hawkmoth first started his reign of terror all those years ago, and she was willing to do anything to keep her little slice of heaven.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess @ashbrea381writings

[i-prefer-base-twelve]

All the prompts for @forduary are great which obviously means I ignored them

Here's a little vignette on the Stan O' War II! Most days at sea, Stan drifted awake to the gentle rocking of the boat, maybe some distant calls of birds. It was nice. Slow and peaceful.

Today, though, the booming voice of his asshole brother slammed into his consciousness like a tsunami:

"Oh, what shall we do with a drunken sailor, What shall we do with a drunken sailor, What shall we do with a drunken sailor, Ear-lie in the morning?..."

Singing at the top of his goddamn lungs.

Accompanied by banging and clattering and stomping. On beat.

Stan groans expressively and wraps his pillow around his ears. Ford knows Stan's hung over; he's doing this on purpose. There's no other explanation for it. Ford doesn't normally... any of this.

"Put him in the backseat of the lunar rover," BANG, "Put him in the backseat of the lunar rover," SLAM, "Put him in the backseat of the lunar rover," BANG, "Ear-lie in the morning!"

"Those aren't even the words!"

"They were in Dimension 73! Weigh-hey, and UP!--" whacking Stan with a pillow-- "she rises," "Weigh-hey, and UP! she rises..."

"I shoulda left you in the portal," Stan grouses, grabbing the pillow before he can strike again.

Ford relinquishes it easily, laughing--which is almost more annoying than the singing--and exclaims, "Up and at em, Stanley! Coffee's ready!"

"All right, all right, I'm up, fuck's sake." Stan sits up and grabs the edge of the bunk as the room spins. Oof. "How come you aren't hung over?" He complains. "Don't tell me you weren't really drinking last night."

In response, a pill bottle thwacks against his chest. Stan puts on his glasses and squints at it; the label's printed in some goddamn alien writing. Figures.

"Give him two pills and a glass of water, Give him two pills and a glass of water..."

"What is with you today?" Sure, his memory's got some fuzzy patches, but he can't remember ever seeing Ford like this. As a kid, Ford had been happy, sure, got excited just like anyone, but he always gave the impression he was holding back. Before Weirdmaggedon he was mostly things like determined, grim, angry, terrified... even these past three months on the boat, Ford had seemed more content than anything else. But today Ford is downright jaunty.

"Do you remember why we were celebrating last night?" Ford doesn't give him time to try. "Today's the day, Stanley! We're right over the epicenter now. It's only a matter of time before we discover what's causing those readings. Our first chance to do some real science!"

Ford claps him on the back just as he's lifted the water glass to his face. It sloshes all over his undershirt. Stan gives him a look that would wither silk flowers; Ford gleefully ignores it.

"You do science all the damn time," Stan grumbles. "And you don't sing about it."

Ford's smile fades and he cocks his head, puzzled. "Well, yes, but..." as he fumbles for words, Stan has a sinking feeling that he's about to get whacked with a particularly painful clue stick.

Sure enough, rather than finishing his sentence, Ford looks at him sadly for a second, turns his back, and pours a mug of coffee.

Stan winces as memories of that look come back to him: a childhood pattern of Ford being excited about nerd stuff and Stan blowing him off. Course, Ford did the same when Stan talked about football... but now that Stan's older and wiser and better at reading body language, he can see that it's not the same.

With his back still to Stan, Ford says, in a suspiciously normal voice, "In the portal, everything I learned, everything I built, was for the express purpose of defeating Bill. It's been a long time since I've done science for the sheer thrill of it. And to have you with me for it... I never thought I'd see the day."

Stan snorts. He can't help it; writing numbers in columns is not his idea of thrilling. But his head is clearing enough to get the message: Ford's not excited about the nerd shit. Well, he is, but what's got him so giddy he's singing sea shanties is... that Stan is here with him.

Stan scoots off the bunk and stands up--not only is his headache gone, but nothing is even stiff or sore. Damn, those are some pills!--and goes to put a hand on Ford's shoulder. When Ford turns, Stan cracks a huge grin and yanks the coffee mug from Ford's hands.

"Hey--!"

Stan shotguns the entire contents and slams the mug down on the counter. "Well?" He asks. "What are we sittin' around down here for? We're burnin' daylight."

Ford smiles at him. It's a fond, gentle smile, the kind he reserves for Stan and the kids. "You should eat something first."

Before Stan can react to this uncomfortably considerate statement, Ford follows it with, "Otherwise those pills will turn your stomach acid into formaldehyde."

Stan rolls his eyes and starts heating the frying pan. "And for a second there I thought you were concerned about my welfare."

They both laugh. Because nothing could be more obviously true.

[aforrestofstuff]

Oh fuck it’s been two weeks already uuuhh Chapter 148 expert review time!!

Sorry for skipping out on chapter 147. I was too busy doing nothing.

First off: oh my god it’s normal Garou my sweet boy I haven’t seen you in ages—

Also a lot of people have been pointing out the height difference in this pic, and I was gonna say that could be attributed to Bang always being hunched over but he’s definitely not hunched over here!! Fucking manlet! Little bitchboy! Googoo gaga bitch! Gonna get his ass beat by an 18 year-old prick while also being short. Pick a struggle, Bang.

Ngl I thought Garou’s irises were tears for a second and I got all up in my shit about it but turns out he’s just cooked out of his fucking mind. I mean, his brain is medium rare at this point. What the fuck is up with him. Why is he standing like that. Why are his feet so skinny??? He’s standing on pogo sticks??

I thought Garou and Bang’s little dumpster scuffle was pretty cool. Murata’s fights are always really well choreographed and his posing is amazing. Only issue is I kinda thought their inevitable beat-down would be a little more climactic? The story thus far has been pretty plateaued and we haven’t really had a proper buildup towards this moment, I think. It’s just been one fight after another, and so far this feels no different. But, I could be getting too far ahead here. The fight’s just begun, maybe something will happen that’ll shift my opinion. But so far… yeah this seems like just another segment of punches being thrown.

I will say though, I do like Garou’s obvious improvement in this rematch with Bang. It was kind of expected since he’s gone through a lot since the Hero Hunter arc, but seeing him actually land a solid hit on the old fuck was really satisfying. He’s grown! He’s gotten stronger! Good for him! He’s still going to hell for nearly killing Mumen, though. But good for him!

Garou’s nonverbal-ness throughout this fight does bring mixed feelings in me, though. I was kinda looking forward to he and Bang’s banter; like maybe they’ll reveal things about Garou’s past that we didn’t know about or something. A few people have brought up that it could be because Garou’s asleep in this fight like he was with PPP and Darkshine, and if that’s the case then I’m a little disappointed. This confrontation was long overdue, and if Garou’s not even lucid throughout it then that could be a lot of character growth being missed out on. But like I said, it’s still early on. Maybe things will change.

I’m thinking impure thoughts.

Man what the FUCK is this.

Also, what he says here kinda stung at first. Like, wow, Garou is more teachable when he’s literally a monster that just makes animal noises and doesn’t have any signs of even being lucid?? Made me a little nervous about how Silverfang treated Garou in the past, since he’s kind of treating him as just a vessel of strength right now, not as something that was once human, much less his beloved disciple. I know Silverfang is objectively Not a good teacher or caregiver but I wasn’t expecting him to just disregard Garou like that.

I talked with Kiyoko about it and turns out it’s a bit of a translation error. Silverfang does say that, but it’s with no regards towards younger Garou and more towards how present Garou is a lot more receptive to picking up techniques. So, it’s more just banter and not a “I’m disgracing all the years I’ve taken you under my wing” sorta thing. I’m happy about that. One of the more compelling things about their relationship is the lingering guilt and love Bang still holds for Garou.

EDIT:

Also I just love the “you twisted punk” line. A lot of the dialogue in the manga is a little eeeehhh sometimes (not at the fault of anybody, by the way. Translations just be like that) but that line just feels so human. Very boomer, very witty, very funny.

So, Amahare and Nichirin are both dead but hey we got a funky lil’ sword and side quest out of it.

Portal magic, motherfuckers. I thought the use of his necklace for this was really clever.

I’ve said before how I thought the manga was overloaded with deadly situations and yet lacking death, but boy has Murata turned all that shit around. Granted, I still think the heroes have too much plot armor but this is a nice change of pace. Now we got actual blood being shed. Yay.

We had some reveals here, which I thought were cool. Apparently Nichirin was Kamikaze’s teacher, which gives me some feelings. Nichirin was also Spring Mustachio’s teacher, but Spring Mustachio is nowhere near Kamikaze’s level yet. So, Nichirin died before he could see Spring Mustachio become a master, and Spring Mustachio watched his master die without having completed his training. That shit’s fucked! The council of swordsmasters is disbanded, so who the fuck is he gonna have as a teacher now? Is he gonna go under Kamikaze’s wing? Because clearly, we haven’t seen all of that fucker (and his disciples) yet. Now we got a fucking side quest for some gay little sword or something.

This makes me… kinda excited for Kamikaze’s arc? Like, holy shit we might actually get a decent chunk of the story told around him (and maybe Spring Mustachio if Murata doesn’t forget about him because I certainly did). Idk if this is the best place for this massive lore drop but yay now Kamikaze has a working sword and a life mission to go on once we get up to speed with the webcomic. Also RIP Nichirin, your character was just used for plot progression lmao sucks to suck.

Golden Sperm looks like the shit I took today. I knew this was coming from the webcomic but nothing could’ve prepared me for the actual cyst this dude is.

Also, his gay little mask or whatever is literally just a face copy of serious Saitama lol. I fucking hate this bitch I want to stick him in some soup broth and whack him against a brick wall until he no longer making a schlorping noise. Anyways.

In conclusion, still stan Bomb because he’s trying his fucking best, even after getting his shit rocked by an 18 year-old edgelord lmao. Also, he didn’t rip his shirt off pre-fight like a fuckboy.

[archonssun]

Hello! Could you write Gojo x wife! reader, with slight angst?

Reader couldn't bear a child thus the higher ups demanded Gojo to find a new wife who could bear the next heir. At the end, they adopted a kid to spite the higher ups.

Of course!! This is actually a really cool idea, so thank you for giving me the opportunity to write it o(*￣▽￣*)o

We Think in Purple

REQUESTS FOR JJK ARE OPEN!!!

warnings: infertile/sterile female reader

notes: the higher-ups being fucking mean and Gojo being affectionate as fuck

Satoru’s lips were set in a hard line, aquamarine eyes hardened behind his sunglasses. Situated on a balustrade, he watched you move around the practice field, his right leg pulled up to serve as a platform for his elbow. He propped his chin against his fist, a deepening frown appearing on his face. His mood was unusually sour since his meeting with the higher-ups.

“Gojo Satoru, you must take a new wife.” He had never wanted to kill the higher-ups more than he did right now. He knew that marrying you would anger the old men, but he didn’t care -- he loved you, not some spineless puppet.

“Like hell, I do.”

“Your current wife is sterile.”

“So?”

“You need an heir.”

“Toru.” Your hand caressed his cheek, pulling him back to the present -- and back to your concerned eyes. Satoru tried to put on his trademark smile, his free hand grasping yours as he pressed a kiss to your palm.

“What is it, mochi?”

With a frown, you brought up your other hand and pulled down his blindfold, “That’s what I should be asking you, Toru. You’re never this glum.” You brushed his bangs from in front of his eyes. “What happened in today’s meeting?”

Satoru pulled you against him with a heavy sigh, forehead resting on your shoulder as he gave you a squeeze. You let him hold you, a hand carding through his hair. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes before he finally broke the silence.

“The higher-ups pestered me for an heir.” The way you froze at his words didn’t go unnoticed by your husband, the man snuggling closer to your warmth and his hold on you growing tighter. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he laughed, “Told ‘em to fuck off.” When you didn’t react, Satoru pulled away, a worried frown on his features. Your eyes were cast to the ground, teeth biting at your lower lip as you fought to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.”

“Don’t be, baby,” Satoru hummed, fingers lifting your chin so your eyes met his. He pressed delicate kisses across your cheeks and nose until you were giggling, then pecked your lips for good measure. “You know it as well as I do: those old bags of bones are just lashing out at you and I for getting married before our parents could arrange one for us.” His nose brushed against yours and a large hand cradled the back of your head, keeping you from shying away from his affections.

“But I’m--”

“I don’t care, (Y/n). You’re my wife, and I love you no matter what. You should know that by now -- after all, we’ve been together for, what, eleven years now?��� His declaration had you laughing quietly, the ticklish feeling of his lips grazing your skin further boosting your mood. Burying yourself in his warmth, your arms wrapped around his back and your hands clutched at the material of his jacket. “I’m not gonna stop loving you just cuz we can’t have little versions of ourselves running around.”

“But what happens when the higher-ups stop taking ‘no’ for an answer, Toru?” you muttered. You smiled as you felt him hum, the vibrations calming you.

“We adopt.” Your head snapped up, wide (e/c) eyes meeting mischief-filled aquamarine eyes.

“You can’t be--”

“Oh, I’m dead serious, mochi,” Satoru cooed with a sly smirk. Humming, his head cocked to the side as one hand caressed your cheek. The pad of his thumb stroked at the skin beneath your eye, his smirk turning devilish. “You’re the only woman I would allow to be the mother of my kids. Only you. I could care less if my clan died out if it meant I’d have you at my side. Besides--” he leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead “-- there will always be strong sorcerers being born -- just look at Megumi and Yuji. They’re a part of the next generation, and I have a feeling every generation following will continue to get stronger and stronger.”

“You really think that, Toru?” You had snuggled closer to the tall man, ear resting over his beating heart.

“Well, duh,” he snarked, laughing when you whacked his arm playfully. “After all, we will be the ones to teach the next generation, not those old geezers. The two strongest sorcerers, working together to strengthen the succeeding generations -- has a nice ring to it, right?”

The utter confidence that dripped from his words had you laughing -- and his next sentence only made the laughing fit worse.

“Besides, adopting is a sure way to stick it to those old fools, dontcha think, mochi?”

-----

Masterlist

This was a very dialogue-driven fic, uhm....

I hope you all enjoyed it cuz I’m kinda hating it rn 😅

-----

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list for Jujutsu Kaisen!!!

@pjofics

[susiequaz12]

Carrot Top- 2: Splice

It’s part 2! The story is moving along, and hopefully I can write a bit more soon. Again I’m gonna tag @imagination1reality0 (and if you want me to tag you in future posts let me know.

Also, Andrew might be referred to as “boy” sometimes, but in the storyline he is almost 20. (It’s just a way to differentiate between him and the other characters.)

CW: Manhandling, gagged, beating, mention of bullying, restrained.

The sun had climbed over the horizon and was heading towards the center of the sky by the time the minivan pulled up to the long, gray building.

Keeping just the gag on, they removed every other thing that kept him bound to the seat of the car. Once he was released he fell as dead weight in their arms. Apart from initially knocking him unconscious, they had drugged him a few times. Most of it should be wearing off soon. 

Two of the men carried Andrew through the hallways of the building while the driver took the van away once everyone had exited. The building was mildly busy on a saturday morning. Guards shuffling about, other prisoners following blindly as they were shuffled like cattle from one place to the next. The sight of an unconscious body being dragged through miles of hallways was not unfamiliar. 

As they walked, Andrew slowly began to gain consciousness. His eyes could barely make out faint shades of gray and white, and endless hallways of doors and rooms. They finally stopped in a hallway that smelled vaguely of chlorine and cleaning solution.

Andrew was conscious enough to realize he wasn’t bound or tied up anymore, and took the opportunity that he saw. As he tried to wrench his arms free from their grip, one of the men pulled out the same stick from earlier, stretching it out to its full length. With a strong arm he threw Andrew to the ground, placing a knee on his back, one arm holding his wrists into the floor, the other using the end of the stick at the back of his neck. Adding just enough pressure so that he wouldn't move. Andrew's chest rose and fell heavily, pressing into the cold floor, and the man leaned down, speaking directly into his ear.

"Listen. If you want to make things easier for yourself, than do as you’re told. Take these clothes, and go into the room. The door will be locked for no longer than two and a half minutes. You have that long to change into your clothes, leaving your other belongings inside. Understood?" Andrew didn't move or say anything, a look of hatred on his face. The man pushed the end of the stick a bit further into the back of his neck and Andrew winced. 

He nodded, he understood. 

The man eased off of Andrew but maintained a steady grip on his arm. The second man handed Andrew a small bundle of clothes before shoving him into the tight room. 

The first thing he did once his arms were free was rip off that gag, spitting the soggy cloth onto the floor. His mouth was free, and he was grateful. The room was about the size of a small closet, or a bathroom stall. There was nothing but a bench built into the wall that Andrew nearly collapsed onto. 

He looked through the bundle of clothes he was given. It was barely anything, was what it was. All it consisted of was a pair of standard cotton boxers, and some grey cotton Capri pants, with elastic that fit right underneath his knee. As Andrew slipped the pants on he realized they were a perfect fit. Not just your standard size, but tailored specifically to him. That was no easy feat. His light weight, plus long legs and height made shopping for any clothes incredibly difficult.

Feeling that he would be too exposed with just the capris, he kept his t-shirt on and quickly retied a shoelace that had come undone, just as the man started banging on the door. He could hear it unlocking and the room was small enough that just by reaching in, the man was able to grab him by the arm and pull him out. The man glanced him over, and was obviously displeased. 

He pulled out his stick again and knocked Andrew down, whacking him in the side of his legs before he had a chance to realize what he did wrong.

Andrew yelped, crumpling to the floor, but that pain was quickly replaced by anger as he was forced face-first onto the ground.

“I thought you understood?” The man said, his knees digging into Andrew’s back. The stick laid flat against the back of his neck, ensuring Andrew wouldn’t try to get up and fight back. “You’ll learn like the others soon enough.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw the second man come over, and his shoes and socks were soon untied and removed from his feet. A shiver ran down his spine as he heard the unsheathing of a knife from behind him.

“Wait, no! Don’t, I-” 

He braced himself for pain but instead felt cold air, hearing a ripping sound as his shirt was torn down the back. They pulled him to his feet and the remains of his t-shirt fell to the floor in front of him.

He stared at it for a second. “Now that’s just mean.” Andrew stated, shaking his head as his arms were pulled behind him once more. “That was one of my favorite shirts!” He tried to rip his arm out of the man’s grasp, but it was just grabbed tighter, pulled backwards at an angle that made him yelp. He screamed, yelling obscenities at the man holding him.

The man just shook his head and waved the other man over once more. As his arms were pulled backwards, the man shoved the same filthy rag into Andrew’s mouth. It was cold and soggy from his own spit, making him feel nauseous. He grumbled as the strip of fabric was tied around his head, getting tangled is his curly hair.

With one man on each arm holding him tightly, they continued walking.

It was a large building. Multiple wings. The next few minutes of walking consisted of more struggle. His arms were pulled so tight behind his back, that he was almost lifted off of the floor, and his steps more closely resembled stumbles. At one point, Andrew got so frustrated that the man kicked him in the back of the knee hard enough to make him crumple to the floor. He was then dragged by his arms for a distance until he could regain his footing. 

Eventually, they made it to his office. To Splice.

“We’re here.” The man stated. 

By this point, Andrew had beads of sweat pouring over his neck and shoulders, and down his spine. His face was red out of anger, and lack of breath.

They knocked, and the door was soon opened by another guard standing inside the room. Andrew was thrust forward into the office of the man known as Splice. He sat at a large desk, filled with papers, and ornamented with various tools and contraptions that looked intimidating at a first glance. 

As soon as Andrew saw him, he refused to make eye contact. Instead choosing to turn his eyes towards the ceiling, defiantly. This man was a disgrace to the family, and had betrayed Andrew and his friends.

For that, he had not earned his respect. 

Splice stood up from his desk, waving the man holding Andrew's arms to remove the gag and to back away. Once that was done, without anyone holding him back, Andrew stood still: silent. Looking straight up as Splice circled around him. Noticing the flushed skin and beads of sweat, Splice spoke. 

"Well I hope you didn't bruise him up or beat him too bad. I was hoping to get the first few beatings and scars in myself." Splice laughed at his own joke and went back to inspecting the boy. 

As Splice turned towards him, Andrew would turn away. Obviously avoiding eye contact. Splice soon caught on to his little game, and proceeded to make a joke out of it. Trying to look into his face and get his attention. Eventually Splice grabbed Andrew by the chin and his forced his face downwards to look him in the eye. Their eyes were two complete sets. They perfectly matched each other, both the same shade of greenish brown. If Andrew’s hair had been smooth and brown, instead of curly and ginger, he could have looked just like a younger version of Splice.

With his arms free, Andrew reached up quickly to strike him across the face, but Splice grabbed his wrist sharply in his hand, and did the same with the other as Andrew tried for a second punch. Holding both of his wrists, Splice threw him to the ground and he landed with a soft thud on the carpet. The guard in the room immediately pulled out a matching stick that the previous ones had as well, as if ready to use it at Splice’s command. 

He considered it for a second, as a dazed Andrew started to rise to his feet, and then looked at the guard and nodded. 

Raising the stick, he struck Andrew across the shoulder, across the side of his arm. Andrew rolled back to the floor, unfortunately leaving his back exposed. The guard struck over and over again. Each time, a soft “oof”, or a muffled groan could be heard, intertwined with shaky breaths.  He rolled over again, tucking his knees into his chest, but the guard struck him right in the ribs. A loud cracking could be heard and Andrew’s chest heaved into the air with the measure of pain, trying to breathe in air like a drowning man. 

After a few more blows, Splice raised his hand in the air and the brutality stopped. The guard stepped back to his post by the door.

Andrew laid on his back on the cool carpet, his eyes drooping, every inch of his body throbbing. His chest seemed to be on fire with the pain in his ribs, making it harder to breathe.

Splice knelt down next to him on the floor. Andrew’s eyes were glossy and filled with tears that were leaking down his face.

“I heard you’ve been causing problems all day.” The man trailed a finger down Andrew’s face, catching a trail of tears. He stood up to his full height before wiping his finger on the side of his pants. He stared down at Andrew.  “Fortunately for me, that means it’ll take longer for you to break. Unfortunately for you, I get to be creative.” He called the guard over and he pulled Andrew to his feet. “For now, enjoy your nap. You’ll need it.” 

Andrew struggled to regain footing and dignity as he was half-walked, half-dragged out of the office.

“Don’t give him a bed just yet.” Splice instructed. “He can have one once he’s earned it.”

The guard nodded and Andrew was dragged out of the room. 

His mind was racing, but not just with the pain he’d just received. But you throw that in a blender with his humiliation, frustration, and embarrassment, and you have yourself a depression milkshake.

This was just another bully, he told himself. Just another old highschool bully who’d call him a freak, corner him after school, slap his books away. It was another beating, another normal day. This was nothing he couldn’t get through. He had gone through similar before: kicks, and punches and spits. Those couldn’t be too far off from a metal rod right? He’d feel better once he woke up. He always did. 

After what felt like miles of walking, Andrew was led into a different room. Bigger than the shower room, but smaller than the average bedroom. There was nothing, only a door, and two chains attached to the wall. 

Andrew grumbled underneath his breath, shaking his head. Just let him sleep on the floor, please. Too tired to fight back, he did his best to maintain his footing as one arm, and then the next, was attached to the cuffs on the ends of the chains. His hands hung loosely by his sides, but his legs quivered underneath his weight. It wasn’t long before his knees buckled and he fell onto the floor. The chains pulled his arms upward above his head, but at least he was sitting. He leaned his head up against the wall and tried to ignore the throbbing in his arms that soon began. 

He didn’t stay awake for very long. It wasn’t soon after he sat down that his eyelids closed and he succumbed to unconsciousness.

[reggiejworkshop]

Animaniacs: The Trip (part 2)

It was in the middle of the morning as the beautiful sun shone directly over the Warner Bros studio in Burbank. Everyone was out and about, enjoying the day. However, three people were not taking advantage of this.

"Oh, here it comes!" Yakko groaned.

Both Wakko and Dot winced as they heard their brother heave for the third time in a row. They would have been more sympathetic had his puking not sounded like the Tasmanian Devil trying to sing death metal. The sound almost made them want to puke again for themselves. Yakko finally came out of the bathroom, a wave of relief spread across his face.

"Who thought it looked better going out than in?" he groaned.

"I don't get it, I thought it would have tasted a lot better than that" Wakko said, confused that he made a food item that he himself couldn't stomach. He along with the rest of his siblings' mouths were still burning.

"Well, now that nightmare is over, what should we do today sibs?" Yakko asked with a peppy tone.

"Let's go see what our favorite psychiatrist is up too." Dot proposed.

"Good idea" Wakko added.

The Warners climbed down the tower. The bright rays from the mole tipped sun beaming down upon them. They reached Dr. Scratchensniff's office in no time at all.

"Oh, Scratchy!" the trio chirped. They stood outside the door to his office, waiting for him to shoo him away. But nothing came.

"Scratchensniff?" Wakko asked. He slowly opened the door. The person they were looking for was not here, instead, another person was lounging in the sofa, barefoot.

"Oh, hello boys…" she replied.

"Hello, Nurse!" Wakko and Yakko whistled.

"Boys," Dot said, rolling her eyes. The trio watched the dainty nurse get up from the sofa, stumbling on her bare feet. Both brothers' hearts began to beat as her curvaceous body loomed up above them. Hands on her hips, she stared down at them.

"Uh, Nurse did you happen to see where Scratchensniff went?" Wakko asked, slightly taken off guard by her posture. Nurse knelt down to his height with a coy grin.

"No, but I just happened finally see how cute you really are," she said slowly with a husky voice. She puckered her lips. "Well, go on"

Wakko eyes widened with disbelief before shooting a glance at his confused siblings. Without a moment too soon, he puckered his own lips and slowly leaned in. The middle sibling gleefully prepared for what would be up to this point the best Friday morning ever!

BURP!

The blast of her mustard gas smacked Wakko down to the floor, sending Dot into a fit of laughter.

"Oops, must be the beans," Nurse said, as she bent down over him. She barely noticed her lower posterity was facing the other Warner, and that particular Warner was enjoying the view.

"Um, Nurse you sure your feeling alright?" Yakko asked, trying his best to see past her bulbous rear. She cocked her head to look back at him.

"Were you staring at my ass?" she snapped with an odd mischievous grin. Yakkos face dropped, he had not expected that response.

"Uhh…. Not exactly"

"Oh I think you were"

"Nah, I think I wasn't. Whoa!"

Yakko stopped mid-sentence when Nurse grabbed him by the hand and friggin threw him into the sofa. After a dizzy spell of stars and drumsticks, Yakko looked up to see the nurse's butt looming right above his head.

"Would you like to get a closer look?"

"Yes, Wait I mean no!" Yakko began to protest before she planted it right onto his face. He flailed his arms helplessly as he was losing air. Unfortunately, that would be the least of his problems.

BLLLLRRTTTT!

The loud foghorn-like blast rumbled the sofa underneath her. Yakkos body went limp as Nuse finished giving him the royal Dutch oven. She got up and fanned sewage scented vapors towards the siblings.

"Whew, that was a good one!" Nurse complimented herself. Both siblings reeled in disgust.

"When did this turn into a Ren and Stimpy cartoon?!" Dot whined. Green faced and ready to puke, Yakko crawled away from the smoldering sofa and right towards his siblings.

"Ugh, now I know how Smollett's career feels like now…" he uttered breathlessly.

"So, boys…" Nurse said. She pinched the tip of the tongue with her teeth and scratched underneath her armpits "What do you say we do some time?"

"Okay, first off that sentence made no sense, second of all what's up with you today?" Yakko asked, genuinely concerned.

"Is that time of the month?" Wakko whispered.

"Come on Yakko. I thought you wanted me. And I want you too" Nurse cooed, continuing to advance towards them.

"Uh, Aren't you coming on a little too strong so soon? After all, according to Ruegger I'm only 14!" Yakko protested.

"That's never stopped you before…" Dot remarked.

"Not helping Dot!"

"That's okay, age is nothing but a number. I can have fun with all three of you" Nurse said, staring them down with a lustful gaze. She whipped out a stick red lipsticks and smeared the gooey stick all over her luscious lips.

Faster than you can 'Goodbye Nurse!' the Warners vanished out of sight. They stood outside the psychiatrists building, trying to ignore the moaning coming from inside.

" I think we lost her!" Dot uttered breathlessly.

"Whew, I am a man of the pursuit but this isn't what I had in mind!" Yakko complained.

"No kidding! That wasn't the Nurse we know!"

"I wish Scratchy were here, hed know what's going on!" Wakko added.

A loud ringing came from Dot's Ipad on the ground. She picked it up to answer it when she froze in realization.

"When did I get an Ipad?" Dot asked herself.

"Just answer it," Yakko told her, ignoring the plot hole.

Dot pressed the device and suddenly the three of them were seeing their favorite psychiatrist on screen in a Skype connection.

"Hello, there kids" Scratchy greeted. His large gourd-shaped head took up most of the screen.

"Scratchensniff, your assistant has turned into a blond-haired Pepe le Pew! What should we do?" Yakko asked with impatience. The psychiatrist groaned with agitation.

"I don't know, maybe it's her time of…" An indistinct voice came from behind him, cutting him off. "Be right there Serena!"

It was here the Warner's noticed that Scratchy didn't appear to have a shirt on.

"Uhh… Scratchy, what's going on over there?" Yakko arched an eyebrow at the screen.

"Yakko, I was actually very busy with a session right now" Scratchy replied. Right as he said that a voluptuous bronze skinned harlot passed by in the background. "An in-depth session. Bye"

The IPad shut off with an electronic sizzle.

"I don't believe it! Scratchensniff just blew us off!" Dot said incredulously.

"Hey, you kids!" A rough voice yelled at them. The Warners turned around, completely surprised to see it came from Ralph. The fatback guard came marching towards them, his gut jiggling over his ammo belt with each stride.

"What the hell are you kids doing out of the tower?!"

The Warners were barely fazed by his hostile demeanor as they simply walked past him. Yakko greeted him with a cheer.

"Hey, Ralphie boy! We'd love to mess with you, but we got a bit of an issue to sort out. Catch you later. Byyeee!"

The Warners gasped simultaneously when the guard snatched up by their tails in one swipe. He yanked them till he slammed their backs into the wall, pinning them to it with his meaty hands.

"Hey, easy with the fur Ralph!" Dot yelled at him.

"I- Is this about the liquid heat incident last week?! We told you we were sorry!" Wakko blabbed nervously.

"Shut up! I wasn't done talking to you damn freaks!" The guard bellowed, causing both of them to shrink. The eldest sibling bore an angry glare at the guard, not liking his sudden mood swing.

"How nice, cause we sure are" Yakko retorted. "Wakko… if you may"

Out of Wakko's hand came his trusty oak mallet. Within nanoseconds, the swinging weapon swooped in the air like a graceful piranha before landing in gracious hands of the mall cop security guard.

Wakko paused to read the run on sentence above him. " What…? Wait STOP!"

"Hammer Time!" said Ralph.

BAM!

The Warners exploded into a restroom inside, causing drywall and porcelain to shatter everywhere. The trio's toony bodies slammed against an open stall. Its occupant hobbled out of the room in fear, not even bothering to wash his hands.

The trio got up from the ground, still seeing stars and drumsticks. They laid their eyes on Ralph who happily whistled in the center of the hole in the wall, slinging the mallet over his shoulders. something seriously wrong was happening today.

"I don't know what hurts worse, getting hit with the mallet or that cheesy line?" Yakko groaned.

"As if you have to ask," Dot said with annoyance.

"Gee, that was fun," Ralph said with a sardonic smirk. "What do ya say we do something else?

"Yeah buddy, if its 'Whack a Warner' well we're not interested" Yakko spat back. He and his siblings broke out their own mallets, ready to pile drive him at the slightest move towards them. Out of character or not, they were not going to let this slide.

"Nah, I want to play a different game …" Ralph replied before pulling something big and black out of his back pocket. And no it's not what you're probably thinking of. The guard began wiping off the barrel of an old fashioned Colt 45 in his hands.

"Ralph, when did you get a gun?" Wakko whimpered. A malicious grin spread across the guard's face.

"Ah, Ever heard Russian Roulette, well this is the California Crapshoot!"

Bang Bang Bang!

"Yikes!" the Warners shrieked as Ralph fired several random rounds in the restroom, obliterating the tile floor beneath them.

"You had to say that in this room?!" Dot screeched. They bounced off the walls like orbeez balls, popped in and out of the stalls and bunny hopped on the sinks, barely avoiding the projectiles.

"You're looking at the original parkour experts folks!" Yakko said to no one. He was immediately thrown off balance when another shot destroyed a nearby sink. A hard jet of sewage water swept the trio off their feet.

Ralph stood over them and aimed the intimidating weapon directly at them.

"Any ideas?" Dot said nervously.

"Wait! Let me try something! Wakko jammed his finger into the barrel of the gun right before Ralph could fire.

BLAM!

Without warning, the colt 45 disintegrated in a large shock wave, sending the guard flying into an open stall. The toilet was liberated from the floor and landed right onto the guard's bald head.

"Whoa! That actually worked!" Wakko said with a delirious chuckle.

The Warners ran out into the hallways, which were unusually empty despite that it was in the middle of the day.

"Help Help! Ralph's gone rogue!" Yakko yelled out right before he froze mid-air, "I can't believe I'm actually saying that!" he resumed running with the others.

They screeched to halt when Nurse appeared at a doorway in a dirty crusty covered wedding dress.

"Oh, you're back!" she moaned before puckering her red lips. "Ready for the honeymoon?!"

"Hit reverse sibs!" Yakko yelled. The trio ran backwards to the point where they were nearly moonwalking out of the damaged building. At this point, the trio had zipped clear across the movie lot. Above them, the dark blemish on the sun above had gotten larger.

"Yakko, what's going on?!" Dot said, pulling at her bow. A stumbling giraffe mooed at them.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"" Looks like we'll have to go to the one other person who can help!"

A quick trip to the park was all it took for them to reach the person they were trying to find. They stopped in front of the largest tree in the park and ran right up to its front door.

"Slappy! Slappy!" the trio yelled as they banged on the door. The door opened.

"Hello, Godchild!" Slappy greeted them at the door in an oversized light blue robe. The elderly squirrel looked at them blankly with a sickly yet sweet smile across her lips.

"Geez Slappy, you heading to a Dugger's convention? What's with the robe?" Dot said, staring into the squirrel hazed eyes. Slappy simply took out a wreath made of daisies and poison ivy and planted it right on top her head.

"No children, I'm heading to the town square for the peace ceremony. Care to come?" she replied in a monotone voice.

"Oh no. Not you too!" Yakko whined as his siblings smacked their heads. Slappy shrugged.

"Oh well, you're missing out on enlightenment," Slappy said before she carefully scooted past them. Birds and doves swirled around her as she frolicked out of the park and into the busy street.

"Oh shit!" A driver yelled as he narrowly swarmed out of the squirrel's path and crashed into a beaver dam.

The Warners stared at the scene, completely slack-jawed and befuddled.

"Did someone finally make opposite day a real holiday?" Wakko asked.

"Doubt it. This has to be a dream…" Yakko replied.

"Warners?! What are you guys doing here?" an irritated voice came from behind them. In a rare blue moon occurrence, the Warners were actually relieved to see that it came from Mr. Plotz. The grumpy CEO stood at attention, waiting to hear whatever excuse they would have for today. But today was not one of those days.

"T.P., I can't believe I'm actually happy to see you," Yakko said, graciously hugging him. This moment of tranquility soon ended when the CEO, actually hugged back.

"Well I am happy to see you three, you three always make this studio great around here!" Plotz said with pleasantness.

Yakko recoiled from him instantly, his blood running cold. Shivers ran up Dot and Wakko's spines.

"You three look like you need your frowns turned upside down!" Plotz pointed them. His nose had gotten larger and turned a bright shade of red.

"No… no" Dot said while shaking his head. The words that came from Plotz's lips plunged the Warners siblings into a fuzzy pit of despair.

"You're not Plotz! You're not supposed to be encouraging!" Yakko pointed an accusatory finger at him. The CEO giggled, yes giggled, as the pale-faced man approached him.

"Oh, Yakko you seem tense. Maybe you should let me give you another hug."

Plotz held out his frilly cuffed arms. His custom fitted blazer turned into ghastly bodysuit of slime green and mustard yellow. his balding hair turned into a twisting mess of orange fur. When the agonizing transformation was nearly complete, the pupils in his demented turned a jaundiced shade of yellow.

"Maybe a game will suffice, a balloon animal possibly?" Plotz continued, his voice sounding more higher pitched and nasally.

"So this is what you see whenever you come across clowns?!" Yakko said to his younger brother while he trembled. Dot held onto him tightly.

"Uh huh, but he's that not that scary, to be honest…" Wakko stated, waving him off.

"Froinlavin!" Plotz exclaimed with a demonic sound. The content smile on Wakko disappeared.

"… but now he is! Hide!" Wakko rushed for the front door to Slappy's house, his siblings were right behind him. Inside the house was Nurse in a revealing Harley Quinn cosplay.

"Hey, there puddin! I'll be your Harley and you can be my Batman!" The nurse said before she pulled a nearby lever which showered her body with cottage cheese. Teeming with ecstasy, she ran for the door.

"Uh… how about neither?!" Yakko uttered before he slammed the door and reinforced it with extra padlocks and chains.

A piercing brumm of a chainsaw came to life eviscerating the California smog around them like butter.

"Seriously, who's writing this?!" Dot said, looking at the statement above. Ralph popped out of the bush nearby with the lethal weapon ready to shed.

"Heeeres Ralphie!" the guard sneered with crooked teeth.

"Ahh! Duck!" Yakko screamed. He yanked Dot out of the way just as the metal from the chainsaw kissed the side of the tree where she stood. All three of them ran away, nearly stumbling from the shower of acorns and bird residue falling from the glorious old oak tree. The large tree shuddered and shook before it came falling down. Both Ralph and the clown unwisely happened to be standing within its shadow, the latter holding a long yellow balloon.

"Who wants to see a sword?!" Plotz said.

Crash!

Meanwhile, the Warners hid inside a nearby booth a few blocks away…

"Wait, phone booths still exist in Burbank?!" Wakko wondered.

They hid inside a nearby phone booth and anxiously watched the guard come down the street a few seconds later, cackling at the top of lungs. The chainsaw still running in his hands. Yakko added in a couple of coins and picked up the phone. It rang.

"Hello?" Scratchy responded.

"Scratchy, you got to get back here now!" Yakko said to him.

"Ugh, why?"

"The whole studio seems to be going crazy, it's like everyone we know has contracted Nicholas Cage fever!"

"Yakko Puh-lease, I'm very busy!"

"Doctor? Sire are you ready for another round?" another voice answered.

"Hey, wasn't that Michelle Phiffer?" Wakko asked. Yakko jaw dropped in realizing that he was right.

"What the- Scratchy! That's my crush!" He huffed with indignation.

"You snooze you lose Yakko," Scratchy said before he hung up. Again.

"This dream better end soon, it's giving me a headache…" Yakko rubbed his forehead. He barely noticed the red glowing dot on his temple.

"Aw, let me fix that," said Ralph.

BLAM!

Yakko ducked his head just in time. The entire phone fixture exploded from a projectile blast that came from across the street. They looked up to see Ralph had ditched his uniform and was now in full camouflage and commando gear, complete with grenades on his belt and a smoking Uzi in his hands.

"You got to be kidding me!" Yakko exclaimed.

Ralph unloaded on them with nonstop fury, all while letting out a guttural wail that would have made John Rambo tremble. They bolted out of dodge, seconds before the rest of the phone booth and the surrounding area was peppered into minuscule pieces.

The Warners ran all over the place, desperately trying to find someone who hadn't gone full retard just yet. The dark blemish on the sun covered more than half of the sun.

They spotted a crowd in the center of the town. All of them were wearing more of the ghastly light blue robes Slappy was wearing. Without a moment too soon they muscled their way into the crowd. A sea of blank faces and drooling smiles were all they could see.

"Hello, all you glorious creations, time of reckoning has revealed itself unto us" A speaker bellowed above the crowd, one the Warners immediately recognized as Brain.

"Oh no- looks like those years with Pinky finally made him snap" Dot whispered.

"Oy, potato Oy, potato" The crowd chanted.

"Give us not your money, but your unwilling duty ship to love everything with peace and cheese sauce"

"Oy Laredo, Oy Laredo!"

"And let us forever be together through whatever obstacles may appear, let push them into One Direction!"

"Fried tomato! Winnebago!" the crowd chanted.

"Surprisingly these guys are less nuts than Flat Earthers" Yakko muttered. He winced briefly when a larger cult member completely covered in robes brushed past them, stepping on his toes.

"Hey, manners are still a thing you know!" Dot snapped at him. The man looked back to give an evil grin. Their faces dropped when they realized it belonged to Ralph.

"Yeah, we're not sticking around for this!" Yakko commented before he and his siblings climbed onto various cult members, not caring that they were ruining perfectly good haircuts or giving full on concussions. None of that mattered. They had to get away from Ralph, for the first time in a while they were actually scared.

The fat guy whipped off his robe, revealing that he had on nothing but a roll of dynamite around his waist. Yakko's eyes widened in shock as he made a mad dash to catch Wakko and Dot. All while The Brain continued to preach.

"And as we pray to out suns who we rejoice from afar. They bring us enlightenment as we say…"

"Admiral Akbar!" Ralph yelled.

BOOM!

The Warner hunched together, shielding themselves from the blinding light that came from the nuclear explosion searing the air around them. It rumbled the ground like fruit roll up's on a hot day, and vaporized anything within its path.

When it finally stopped. The Warners got up to see the entire yards of nothing but a scorched flat wasteland. And its only occupants were the Warners themselves and Ralph's sparkling blue spirit. The dimwitted guard looked at his own predicament with shock.

"Huh, I guess those old instructional videos were right. All you have to do is duck and cover." Wakko said.

Ralph could nothing but pout as a flying nimbus cloud lifted him high into the heavens, all while he glared at the Warners and gave them the middle finger. He disappeared in the cloudy marmalade sky, barely missing the sun which was now fully eclipsed by the dark spot. The Warners didn't care as they gleefully waved him goodbye.

"Bye bye!" the trio chirped.

"Whew, glad that's over," Yakko said.

"Yakko …" Nurse's voice cooed from a distance, hearing it made the eldest Warner flinch with an ugly grimace.

"Oh no!"

"Oh boys, I have enough toys for everybody!" The nurse came sprinting at them like a drunken gazelle. This time she wore spike studded leather boots and lingerie. And draped around her neck were anal beads and ball gags.

"Yakko, what were those two things the narrator just mentioned?!" Dot asked, her face wrenched with disgust.

"Something Fifty Shades of Grey probably touched on in better detail," Yakko replied. They quickly started moonwalking away from the potential blond dominatrix in making.

"Kids!"Mr. Plotz yelled. Behind them, Plotzo the clown came running towards them with an army of multicolored balloon animals in his wake. One of them, a pink giraffe, brayed at them. "Do you want to sing a happy song? Froinlavin!"

Just above the trio, the blue spirit of Slappy Squirrel came flying down from the sky carrying peace doves and unicorns. The Goodfeathers dive bombed with her, ready to decorate the Warners like old statues in a train station. The Warners trembled together as they watched the pandemonium descend upon them.

Suddenly, as if their prayers had been answered, a car pulled up nearby. Not bothering to check who it was, the Warners seized the opportunity. They burst through the car window action Bond style and face planted into the backseats.

"What can I do for you?" the driver replied with a Brooklyn accent.

"Take us anywhere but here! And step on it!" Yakko told him.

"The car driver slammed on the gas pedal and breezed away just in time. Nurse, Plotz, and Slappy's armies all collided into a shower of shrimps and clams.

"Will this dream ever end?!" Dot sighed, as she threw her head back in the seat.

" I hope so, I don't how much of this randomness I can take" Yakko replied.

"Can I change the radio?"Wakko asked the driver.

"Sure" the driver replied. Wakko tuned the radio dial to different stations.

"...Despite the growing hole in the sun's surface, it is getting hotter than MY MOOOOM…!

"...Get Scwifty...!"

"...Mississippi Queen, if you know..!"

"And now, this is Mordecai and Rigby live from LA with our musical guests today, Rita the Cat and Eddie Vedder will be performing a song."

Wakko sat in the back with the other two Warners and sighed in relief. "Oh good, something normal for once."

The hair on the back of their necks rose as they heard first few guitar notes of Black Hole Sun eerily plucked from the speakers.

"In my eyes, indisposed, In disguises no one knows...", Rita sang.

Realizing this was a sign of worse to come, the driver looked down at radio with dread.

"Oh fuuuck no!" The car screeched to a stop. The driver kicked them out with a swift kick. "You kids aren't roping me into this craziness."

"Hey come back!" Wakko and Dot shouted at the guy as he speed away high speed, barely missing a semi-truck skidding across an intersection. Somehow they could still hear the music.

"...And my youth I pray to keep, Heaven, sent hell away"

"We're not giving you 5 stars!" Yakko yelled at him.

An ambient drone undercut the music with a vibration that rumbled the entire ground beneath their toes. The large dot on the sun had completely overtaken and had now blocked out all of its bright rays. Instead, the head of Flavio the Hippo appeared in the dot, smiling down at them with a toothy grin. It then opened its mouth and began sucking in air like a straw. And the music at this point was deafeningly loud.

"...Black hole Sun, won't you come. Wash away the rain…"

Trees and skyscrapers squished into purple pus-like orbs, floating their way into the ginormous void above them. Bloodshot eyes in the skies stared down at them, screaming for vengeance and lustless agony. Tears filled with clams and shrimp glistened down its victims.

"I think whoever is writing this dream has officially checked out!" Yakko said, covering his ears.

"We're dreaming? Then how come I can actually taste this shrimp?" Wakko held up a half-eaten shrimp he'd picked up off the ground, it was the size of his head. For extra measure ,both Yakko and Dot pinched their cheeks. They hurt.

"Oh, God…"

The sun descended in the west upon the sparse horizon, the Flavio shaped star widened his gaping mouth and increased its gravitational pull, sucking in anything in his path. People, prairie dogs, pets, and including the Warners themselves.

"Hang on!" Yakko yelled over the apocalypse, his terrified siblings clutching to him tightly. The ground below them pulled away like crumbled cookie crumbs, spilling away into a sea of a dark blue ocean.

The water tower they'd come to call their home had smashed against a nearby gas station. Some of the gas began leaking out and flooding into the street. In a desperate attempt to stay afloat, they grabbed onto the broken legs of the tower and held on with their feet helplessly dangling in the wind.

The girrafe knocked into the trio, loosening Dot's grip on her brothers. She could do nothing but scream as she disappeared in the swirling dark void.

"Dot!" Yakko screamed.

"Yakko, I don't feel so good." Wakko croaked. He started to disintegrate in a haze of chili powder and pepper. Yakko watched his brother disappear like an open KoolAid into the black hole.

"...Won't you come, won't you come..."

"Wak...?"

The final guitar chords were coming near. An earspiltting rumble came just above his numb head. He looked up. On top of him was a planet-sized pitcher of the Mississippi Queen drink falling from the sky, topped with a nice Molotov cocktail. Yakko closed his eyes just before it connected to the ground with a final earth-shattering smash.

original link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13263720/2/The-Trip

[idontworkforsega]

Hii! ^^ My first time asking for a promt here :3 I'm a big fan of you and cutegirlmayra's work! Could you maybe if you'd like, make a fic about amy turning into a boy or something from a machine tails made? Like gender blend. How would sonic react? Make it sonamy ;>

Hey! Thank you! I’m so excited this is your first time asking for a prompt. I hope to see many more from your beautiful mind, Cherry-chan ^^

I don’t know… Cutegirlmayra is kinda hard to beat… but since we’re setting the bar, I’ll jump as high as my writing can take me! :Db

Prompt:

It was supposed to help Tails understand the female mind more… but instead, as Amy sat in the chair with the strange waves moving up and down her body from the helmet attached to her head, a new–stranger–sensation set in.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel like herself.

In fact, her stomach hurt. But it was a different kind of hurt.

She needed to pee.

“Are we done yet, Tails?”

She covered her mouth instantly, “T-Tails!?! Why is my voice so low!”

She felt something move under her hands and touched what felt like a… “Adam’s apple!?” she jumped up, “MY BOOBS!” her dress looked deflated. Instinctively, she covered her chest with her arms, almost hugging herself, and realizing nothing but a broad chest was there.

“AaahhhhaaAAAAHhh….” she made a sound that could only be interpreted as uncomfortable as she lifted a leg up and crunched her body in.

Tails was still analyzing some things, not having turned around. “Huh. That’s funny. It seems instead of putting information in to counter-play the male brain dynamics… the machine ended up downloading information out… but that’s odd, information can’t download into-” he slowly turned around as Amy was waving her arms about, trying to get his attention as he gasped.

He fell back and gripped the edge of his lab desk, his engineering pieces falling everywhere behind him. “Oh, Chaos!” he shouted out, “What… who… Amy?!”

She whimpered…. he whimpered???

Tails shook his head, “That’s impossible.” he turned back to the computer, typed some things in, then shoved the entire keyboard and turned back to walk up to Amy, “How is this possible?!”

Amy frantically tried to place her hands anywhere that wouldn’t be touching her newfound body, “I don’t know, but I care, so fix this and give me back my cute girlish charms.” she was surprisingly trying to keep herself relatively calm but was failing drastically.

“Huh. I think I’m gonna have to reverse the polarity-” Tails looked away for only half a second, but Amy’s now manly hands grabbed at his chest fur and hoisted him up to her/his face.

“Don’t leave me like… This!” Amy used her eyes to gesture to herself.

Her now, baggy, dress fell flat and barely moved with her. With the figure change, so did the clothes…

“A-Amy…” Tails tapped her hands, “You probably have a lot more testosterone in ya then you’re used too! It’s causing you to be violent… just… set me down… deep breaths.” Tails lightly tapped her hand, as though saying ‘uncle, uncle!’ at her new found strength.

She was always strong, but with more muscle and bone mass, she was even more of a destructive powerhouse… probably more than she was used to having.

“O-oh… Deep breaths… right.” she put him down.

Her boyish form moved over to the most reflective surface she could find, gripping her now spiking hair as it wouldn’t fully lay flat–the object she chose was a steel plane cover that had been taken off one of Tails’s earlier planes for refurbishment.

She looked at her mouth, her eyes, the now angled and sharpened three bangs she had.

Nothing looked soft anymore… She wanted to cry but tears weren’t coming.

Why was that?

She looked at her dress, now looking ridiculous on her as it didn’t hold its same ‘hoop’ look. She was like wearing a huge, basketball t-shirt with a tight band at her waist.

She then saw something she never knew she’d like.

Her gentle look.

She was amazed to see that her eyes, although different, still held her emotions well in them.

“I-I’ll fix this, Amy! I’ll do… do something!” Tails was clearly flustered, but had no idea that whilst he talked to himself, Amy began to smile, and flexed in the reflective steel.

“Take your time…” she chimed, registering her voice a little higher than a man would normally carry it. There was some music in her voice, as she made a duck face and turned around, looking at her new–flatter–butt. “Well that’s a shame.” she stated, but then rolled up her dress to see her tail. “Interesting…” she lowered that and let the fabric flop back into place.

She touched her teeth, checking for fangs, before making cute faces and realizing… “You know what, Tails?”

“I’m sorry! I’m really, truly sorry, Amy! This wasn’t supposed to happen…” Still oblivious to her new found discovery, Tails was continuing to work rapidly on his computer.

She side-glanced him, frowned to the side of her face as though deciding not to tell him, and smiled at herself in the reflection. “I look pretty good.” she placed her hands on her hips and grinned brighter.

She tried to sneak away from Tails… but her usual 'hip movement’ now seemed blocky and caused her slow down her steps. 'Do men really not move with a figure-8?’ she was making a lot of discoveries, taking more 'straighter’ steps and realizing that her arms didn’t need to move so much anymore. 'Huh,’ she tilted her head, 'This man-body is well-portioned. I wonder if it’s because I take care of my diet..?’ she continued to move swiftly and stealthily out of Tails’s home.

As she made her way outside, everything still felt the same. 'Wind? check.’ she moved her gloved hand out into the air, then stepped forward. 'Balance? A little different… but not by much.’ she jumped around, “Ya-hoo!” she charged ahead, summoning her hammer, which was now enormously larger than before, and much heavier. “Yikes!” she adjusted her grip with two hands and then spun herself, charging towards a zone to test out her new self.

It was strange, she felt different, but it wasn’t bad?

Besides, she trusted Tails to fix it… after all… he had to fix it… right?

That’s when it dawned on her.

“Hey…” she put her hammer down by her side. “If I’m a boy now… I wonder…” She placed a hand on her chest, and looked excitedly towards what looked like a flash of blue blur…

She grinned, a bit mischievously. “Hmmmm….”

A devious new plan…

Was forged.

Sonic sped by Metal Sonic, goofing around as he placed his two hands to the side of his face, sticking his tongue out, and taunting Metal Sonic on.

Metal Sonic’s engine revved in fury, but Sonic just chuckled and ran through one of Eggman’s collapsing base doors, extremely thick and made of titanium, meaning that Metal Sonic crashed into it–unable to break in time.

With the explosion behind the closed door, Sonic dusted off his hands and made his way back to the zone. “Trashed a wannabe-robot, raced a loser, and… explosions. Yep. Full day, as usual.” he flicked his nose, walking on until almost bumping into somebody.

“Woah!” He stepped back.

Amy had revamped the dress, making it look just like a thrown-over, long t-shirt tucked enough so in that it looked to resemble a lazy attire, but still a boy’s look. She had manipulated her headband into a 'sweatband’ and placed it in front of her bangs, making them swoop back a bit and change her iconic look.

Her spikes now stood more up and pointed outward, mimicking male hedgehogs but still retaining some soft bends towards their crook.

She rolled down her boots to match the dress’s 'baggy’ look and winked to Sonic. “S'up dude!” she coughed, clearing her voice and placing the new designed Piko-Piko Hammer, the much bigger and heavier one too, on her shoulders.

“…Ummm…” Sonic tilted his head, then tapped his foot. “Do I know you?”

“Oh!” Amy grew a bit flustered, but pointed to the heap of robots behind her. “I-I-um, ehem- saw you were chased by some no-good robots and thought I’d help out!” she tried to keep the deeper range on her new voice, but it still came off a bit fake…

“…Uh…huh.” Sonic folded his arms, squinting. “I thought I noticed some robots trailing off at the end there… Thanks! I guess.” He gave the boy a wave and walked up to him, patting his shoulder. “What’s your name, pal?”

Thinking him a fan, Sonic shrugged off the similar and familiar vibe he was getting, and took it as just 'stranger danger’ for a moment.

Amy felt a tinge from the touch, the same excitement she felt before was different now in this body, but it still felt like her heart was giddy. 'Strange,’ she looked at his hand, 'I’m still happy to be around him… but it feels… somewhat different now. But I can still recognize how I feel.’ Amy closed her eyes, relieved that even in her boy body, she could still feel her girlish wonder for Sonic.

“I’m A-” she cut herself off, “I-I mean-” her more feminine tones came out as she took the hammer in front of herself and shifted her eyes about, “Amil… Amil the Hedgehog.” she cleared her voice and tried to keep it at a normal, still deeper than her usual voice.

Sonic raised an eyebrow, feeling something off about this dude and removed his hand. “Ohh… k?” he didn’t feel comfortable with this guy. “You okay there, Amil?”

“Oh! Just excited to meet a real hero! That’s all!” Amy twirled her hammer, attempting to lean on it but it whacked her in the face, “Ow!”

'Geez, I can’t control my own strength!’ She silently cursed her new, muscular body and poofed the hammer away.

“Rrrriight.” Sonic smiled, but a sweat-drop had appeared on the side of his face. “Well, I should be off…” He began to move on, “Take care!”

“W-wa-wait!”

Surprisingly, Sonic did.

Why did Sonic stop when a dude asked, but not when she asked him too?

Trying to play off the fact that she could be mistaken as a young boy, she decided to play the part of an awkward new kid in town. “Mind if I train a bit with you? Fighting robots?” she pointed to the field, having some of Eggman’s robots still littering the zone.

Sonic looked to the boy and then the zone,… after a double-take, he smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “Sure thing, pal! Want to fight along a hero?”

“Absolutely!” Amy’s eyes shined.

She was able to see a different side of Sonic, one more relaxed but still trying to keep up appearances in front of a fanboy… She liked that even though he didn’t know it was her, she could still feel his kindness and friendship towards her.

“Woo! You sure know how to swing that hammer!” Sonic stretched out on a low-riding tree branch, still having his feet planted on the ground, as Amy watched him with happy admiration. “Harder and more violent than someone else I know.” he yawned.

'This is my chance!’ Amy’s eyes lit up at that.

“R-really?” She tried to play it cool, leaning on the branch with her arm up by her head, but it looked way too much like she was leaning into him.

Sonic didn’t notice though, so she quickly grew nervous and moved back to folding her arms and facing forward.

“Yeah, just an old friend.”

She frowned. 'I’m not that old…’

“W-what is he like?” Amy played along, tilting on her heels which … as Sonic adjusted his gloves, made him look down and suspiciously look back up at the boy.

'That’s something Amy does when she’s trying to be sneaky about something…’ he thought, but shrugged it off. 'Amy couldn’t pull off such an elaborate ruse. There’s no way she could hide those long eyelashes, or even glue them down.’ he snickered, but Amy wondered what that was about.

“Not… a boy?” She thought he might be laughing at the fact that she said 'he’.

“Nah, but can rough it out like the rest of us.” he finished adjusting his gloves and smiled back to him. “Hey, Amil. Ever had a girl you liked?”

She felt her whole body shoot up with fire. Strange, as a girl, this felt like bubbled lightning…

“W-w-wh-what do you mean?” She was acting extremely suspicious, and Sonic began to see more and more Amy in this dude…

He narrowed his eyes, 'Is it Amy..?’ he leaned closer. “Yeah…” he smirked, turning his body more towards her, and tilting his head back. “Is that a yes?”

“I-I mean… W-where did this come from?” She grew nervous. 'If I say the truth, he’ll think I’m a dude who likes him or something! I-I-I don’t want to make this awkward for him…’

As the boy looked down, clearly nervous, Sonic decided to play it smooth. He did the exact same stance Amy had pulled moments before, with his arm up and his hand supporting his head as he leaned against the branch, turning more towards her…

“You just seem like the romantic type.”

Amy suddenly felt a strange sensation and grabbed at her stomach, 'Oh my Chaos…’ she sweat nervously, looking up at his face.

With such a clear sign coming off of Sonic, she almost felt like she was about to spit out in a gasped shock, 'WHAT IF HE’S GAY!?!?!?’

Amy moved away, shaking her hands out. “H-aafahsahbah-!!” she couldn’t speak right, her head was reeling. 'Does he know it’s me??! Is he actually flirting with some stranger!? Oh no… what if he is gay!? What if that’s why he’s always so charming and sincere, but never available!?!?’ Amy’s head reeled as she didn’t realize she was blushing in real life… nor keeping up her 'manly facade’ very well.

“Got'cha.” Sonic pretended to 'fire’ with his hand, which he had formed into a gun-like position, and tapped her forehead. “You’re Amy, aren’t ya?”

Her knees wobbled, before she slowly fell to her legs. 'What’s going on!!?!?’ her eyes were wheeling.

“Hahaha! Knew that was you. Nice try, Ames. But there’s no way I wouldn’t notice you.” He waved a finger, thinking himself very clever before…

He picked the bloke up and felt the strange weight difference.

Then…

He noticed the shape of the dude in his arms… the different body suddenly made him drop Amy and speed back.

“What on earth!?” He thought maybe she had chest-binded, but that wasn’t the case now. “Are… Are you not…?” Now Sonic’s head was clearly reeling.

“I-I can explain-” Amy began, but Sonic immediately bowed in apology, then looked away extremely nervous.

“Woah, sorry dude! You act exactly like a friend of mine. I mistook you for a second as her, but you’re clearly not.” He offered him his hand. “Seriously, really sorry! You two have a lot of similarities… hope that doesn’t squash your ego, though. Girls love a man in pink!” he winked, trying to recover from what he thought was a blunder.

Amy’s eyes seemed to shrink, “You… mistook me?” She suddenly burst into laughter.

Sonic felt all his pride dwindle away then, his head hung low and his spirit almost seemed to be escaping the embarrassment by flying out of his mouth, having three spikes in it’s ghostly form to show it was him.

“Hahaha! That wouldn’t be the first time. You’re okay. A lot of people mistake me as looking kinda girly.” She scratched the back of her head, then narrowed her eyes in a smirk, 'Who’s got who?’ she disguised her victorious, devilish laugh as just part of her mocking him. “Anyway, what’s this girl like? Someone special to you? Must be if you think she would dress up just to trick you.” She waited with sparkling eyes as she got up to hear something romantic slip from his mouth again–and this time–no jokes!

Sonic scratched his nose, looking away with a frown. “Well,… she’s a handful. I’ll say that much.”

A shot fired through her heart. She could literally fell it sinking. “W-what?”

“Well, you know girls.” he shrugged then, “Kinda emotional.”

Amy’s eyes bounced down, “O-oh… you think she’s clingy then?” something hard was stopping her from swallowing… something fierce was forming in her fist… was this… rage?

Normally, the first emotion would be devastation, right? Being rejected so openly and bluntly… but that emotion swept by and was immediately replaced with some form of anger and shame.

Was she not good enough?

She dipped her head, darkening out her expression.

“Clingy? I wouldn’t say that. She just gets lonely sometimes… understandable for the lifestyle I live.” He walked by, but Amy grabbed his arm before he moved too much away. “H-huh?”

“Ever thought that maybe that could hurt too?”

Sonic was a bit weirded out again, now thinking this wasn’t–in fact–Amy. “Umm…”

“Maybe she just feels things differently… maybe girls… feel differently about things than you do…”

“Then… I do?” He noticed a strange mix-up in the boy’s speech, and slowly turned back to him. “…Amy..?” he questioned it again, as Amy released his arm.

“There you go again… just cause a dude’s a little more sensitive doesn’t mean he’s a-”

Sonic grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her around and digging his eyes into her own, studying her.

She tensed up, freezing in place…

“…Tell me, honestly.” He narrowed his eyes, “…Are you in there?”

Amy felt herself let go of the facade, “Tails’s machine changed me… he said he’d change it back, but I wanted to see you…” Finally… there was finally tears forming. Her old emotions kicked in, but violently pushed her.

She grabbed him, a little too strongly, back into her arms and gripped him there. “Being a boy is so confusing!!!” she cried out, her voice turning back into a higher register. “Why can’t I make sense of my emotions anymore!? It’s like, they’re not all at once, they’re different and happening at different times. I don’t like this anymore! I don’t want you to being so chill with men and not me! I want you to be like this and honest without tricking me like I’m something different! WHAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!”

The signature cry made Sonic’s eyes widened.

“You’re not kidding…” He sweatdropped, moving her away, “A-Amy,… if you really are in a different body now then…”

“But I’m still me.” she sniffed, her usual look suddenly coming through the sharpness of her new, angled features and face. Her hands were bundled up by her chest now, and Sonic could see his memory flash between Amy and the boy standing in front of him now.

“Alright,… Alright, just… take a deep breath.” he was much kinder now, something Amy had missed.

“Why do you and Tails say the same things.” she rubbed her eyes, “Boys can still cry?”

“Of course we can cry.” Sonic smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders and winking into her, moving her towards Tails’s direction. “But let me ask you something… you haven’t… you know..?”

“What?” Amy looked up, quite innocently at him.

“Needed to… well… nature’s calling, or anything… right?”

She gasped, blinking and understanding what he was saying. She put her hands up to her face, “I’ve been holding it this whole time!”

Sonic, again, very awkwardly offered his arms, “Let’s get you Tails… I think you look a lot cuter as a girl, though…” He blinked, rather innocently at her new body, “You’re so much scarier as a boy! You were savage towards those robots!”

“Oh, you.” She fanned a hand out, “I’m still tried from crying. Why do boys tire so easily?”

“What? Women don’t?” Sonic joked, scooping her up.

“We handle it a lot better… cause it’s not all at once.” She stuck out her tongue.

“I guess you can’t really say things like that, Amy.” He began to take off, “Besides… you’ve only been a dude for a half a day, right?”

“R-right.” Amy blushed, embarrassed to be making so many comparisons.

“There’s one thing we can kinda agree on though, right?” Sonic sped up to Tails’s door, then struck a confident, flirty pose. “Boy or girl… I still got it.”

“D'oh! You-!!!”

Amy was changed back, and though glad to pee as she always had, still kinda wished she could have continued talking to Sonic as a boy.

It felt different, but it wasn’t so bad.

(This isn’t really my forte, it’s hard to write these, but Genderbending is fun regardless! I was about to call out a rule that Cutegirlmayra has on you, but I let it slide ;) might not happen in the future tho!)

Fanfiction Entry 608 (x)

[seymour-butz-stuff]

Under the assault, 53-year-old Christopher David seems like a redwood tree — impervious to the blows. But in a video shot by a reporter, another officer — wearing green military camouflage, a helmet and gas mask — sprays David full in the face with what appears to be pepper gas.

Video of the Saturday night incident has gone viral. Accounts of it have been reported by news outlets in the United States and around the world.

Today, David, who suffered two broken bones in his hand, finds himself a reluctant symbol of the protests taking place in Oregon’s largest city and the federal response to it. Militarized officers from a handful of agencies have been using tear gas, flash-bangs, pepper spray, “less-lethal” impact weapons and other munitions to disperse crowds.

“It isn’t about me getting beat up. It’s about focusing back on the original intention of all of these protests, which is Black Lives Matter,” David said in a phone interview Monday with The Associated Press.

The U.S. Department of Homeland Security, which has deployed officers to Portland, did not immediately respond to a request for comment on the incident that David recounted. DHS said in a statement about Saturday night’s events that some of the protesters were “violent anarchists” who had launched objects at federal officers, including fireworks and bags of paint, and tried to barricade officers inside the federal building.

Some vandalism, including graffiti, has occurred in the Portland protests, now in their 53rd day, and federal officials say they’ve responded to protect property and help restore order. One protester was arrested after allegedly assaulting a federal officer with a hammer.

But people peacefully protesting police brutality and racism, including a county commissioner and religious clerics, have been subjected to riot-control munitions. One demonstrator was hit in the head by an impact munition, shattering bones in his face and head. Some were snatched off the streets by the federal officers and stuffed into unmarked vehicles.

David, a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy and a Navy veteran, was so disturbed by what he’d heard that he came to a protest site outside the federal building in downtown Portland on Saturday night.

He put on a sweatshirt with “Navy” emblazoned across the chest and a Navy ballcap, figuring the federal officers would be, like him, a military veteran. He figured they’d listen as he reminded them “that you take the oath to the Constitution; you don’t take the oath to a particular person.”

“What they were doing was unconstitutional,” David said. ”Sometimes I worry that people take the oath of office or the oath to the Constitution, and it’s just a set of words that mean nothing. They really don’t feel in their heart the weight of those words.”

There was no talking. The federal officers, in full tactical gear, came charging out of the federal building.

“They came out in this phalanx, running, and then they plowed into a bunch of protesters in the intersection of the street and knocked them over. They came out to fight,” David said. One officer pointed a semi-automatic weapon at David’s chest, he said, and video shows another shoving him backwards as he tried to talk with the officers.

“I took a couple steps back, straightened up, and then just stood my ground right there, arms down by my side,” David recalled.

One officer began whacking at David with the baton. When he doesn’t fall or even flinch, another officer sprays him full in the face. David then retreats a few steps while making an obscene gesture.

“They are thugs and goons,” David said. “I couldn’t recognize anything tactically that they were attempting to do that was even remotely related to crowd control. It looked to me like a gang of guys with sticks.”

David will need reconstructive surgery with pins and plates on his ring finger that was shattered. A bone in his hand was also broken.

He’s not going back out to protest.“My ex-wife and my daughter would kill me if I did that. They’re so angry at me for doing it in the first place because I got beat up,” he said. “I’m not a redwood tree. I’m an overweight, 53-year-old man.”

[cabbagebender]

[header reposted from this post by @ao3commentoftheday​, with permission]

The following excerpt is from an April Fool’s Day VLD fic I started last March, and am considering finishing up for this April 1st.

The context: Team Voltron is spending a week of vacation at Shiro’s cousin’s very nice mountain lodge house. They have one conference meeting that happens to fall on April 1st, but other than that, they have the week off.

“I was up early,” Pidge said, “so I set up the dining room as a conference space.”

“What does that mean?” Lance asked. 

“Like I tested the equipment and set out stuff to take notes.”

“That's old-school of you,” Shiro said.

“What can I say, even I get nostalgic sometimes.” 

Shiro laughed as he walked into the dining room. “Oh.”

Each seat had a sheet of colored construction paper and a blunt crayon in front of it. 

Hunk chuckled. “Nice one.”

Pidge glowed with pride.

Allura sat down in her chair and picked up the crayon with some interest. 

“What is this?”

“It's–” Keith began, but Pidge grabbed his arm, gesturing at him to shush. Keith frowned at her, but didn't keep talking.

Romelle picked hers up as well and inspected the label. “It says it's a… cray-on.”

“Whatever that is.” Allura turned around to the others. “Are you not going to tell us?”

“I like seeing you figure it out,” Pidge said. 

Alura sighed and returned to examining the crayon. 

“Oh, there – look,” she said after a moment, leaning towards Romelle. “It says Wild Strawberry. That's an Earth fruit. What does yours say?” 

Romelle turned the crayon. “Cotton Candy.”

“Flavors?” Allura suggested.

“Maybe they're like those candy canes,* Romelle said. 

“Oh, no,” Hunk muttered.

“The packaging does look similar,” Allura took the edge of the paper wrapping and pulled it down.

“Wait, Allura, no–” Pidge cried out, but it was too late – Allura had already stuck the crayon in her mouth and taken a tentative bite. Romelle immediately followed suit.

“Hoooly quiznack,” Lance said.

“It's chewy,” Allura said, Then she made a face. “That doesn't taste like strawberry at all.”

“I like it,” Romelle announced, taking another bite. 

Hunk looked like he was going to be sick. “Guys, that's not food.”

Romelle looked up, the stick in her mouth. 

“It's not?”

“No! It's a writing utensil! It's made of wax!”

Allura grabbed a tissue from the center of the table and discretely spat out the bite she'd already taken. “That would explain why it tastes so strange.”

“Like you can talk,” Keith said. “You drink nunville.”

“Is it dangerous?” Romelle asked, her eyebrows flying up. 

“Well…” Pidge blinked. “I mean… probably not… they have to make it non toxic for kids.”

“So… if I had more, it wouldn't hurt me.”

“Don't eat more!” Keith exclaimed, and all the other humans chimed in to agree with him. Shiro sank into the chair at the head of the table, looking faint – and a loud raspberry noise ripped through the room.

The conversation halted. Everyone turned to look at Shiro.

 “That wasn't me,” Shiro said quickly. 

Hunk sniggered. “You sure?”

Shiro reached under his seat and pulled out a deflated whoopee cushion. “Alright, very funny, who left this here?”

The other paladins glanced at each other. 

“Wasn't me,” Pidge said. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Hunk seconded.

“Or me,” Keith added.

“I don't even know what that is,” Allura said, and Romelle nodded along. 

Shiro turned to look at Lance.

“Uh,” Lance said. “I… I thought Keith was gonna sit there.”

Keith shot him a glare. 

“Oh, really?” Shiro said. 

Lance laughed nervously. “Uh–”

Shiro's mouth twitched into a smile, and Lance relaxed a little.

Which meant that, when Shiro jumped out of his chair, grabbed Lance, and threw him over his shoulder, Lance was too slow to react. 

"Hey! Put me down!"

Shiro turned around and walked out of the dining room.

“Shiro, think about what you're doing!” Lance yelled, kicking futilely. 

Shiro remained impassive, walking through the living room.

“Wait,” Pidge said. “Are we going where I think we're going?”

Shiro grinned.

“Wait, where do you think we're going?” Lance demanded. 

A second later, Allura caught on and laughed. “Oh, you can't be serious.”

“What?” Lance pressed.

"Can someone get the door? Shiro asked.

Pidge hopped ahead and slid open the glass door to the outdoor pool.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no–” Lance said, and then Shiro dropped him in the water. 

Lance went under with a splash and emerged gasping.

“I can't swim!” Lance yelled. 

Shiro's expression morphed from triumph to horror. “You said you grew up on the beach!”

“Yeah, but I–” Lance flailed vaguely in the direction of the pool wall. He seemed to be barely managing to keep his head above the water. “We just – splashed around in the shallow part!!! We didn't–” 

“Wait, hang on,” Shiro said, frowning. “But – you and Hunk–”

But he didn't get to finish. Keith dove onto his stomach at the edge of the pool, stretching his arm out as far as he could. “Grab my hand!”

Lance beat at the water like an oar and managed to propel himself a few inches in Keith's direction. He reached out – after a few slippery tries, his hand clasped Keith's. 

“Thanks,” Lance breathed. Then he grinned. “Wow, you have a terrible memory.”

“Huh?” Keith asked, and then Lance dove under the surface, yanking down on Keith's arm. Keith yelped and tried to grab at the side of the pool, but in vain – he went tumbling face first into the water. Lance shot back up like a dolphin and gave a triumphant whoop before settling down into a lazy backstroke, circling Keith's point of entry. A second later, Keith came up spluttering and looking ready for murder. 

“You–” he seethed. 

“I can't believe you don't remember the upside down pool,” Lance said. “Why would I be going swimming if I couldn't swim? How could I have survived the whole mermaid planet with Hunk if I couldn't swim!?!?”

“Oh, man,” Hunk called out, laughing. *Keith, I can't believe you fell for that. Lance? Not know how to swim? That's a good one. He's basically a duck.”

“Excuse me,” Lance said, “I'm a swan.”

“Yeah, cause swans are assholes,” Pidge mumbled. 

“I was worried!” Keith exclaimed in high-pitched indignation.

“Aww, you really do ca–”

A deluge of water crashed against Lance's face. 

“Seriously, what was that for!?”

“Well, I was trying to get Shiro back,” Lance said, “but I wasn't going to pass this up.” 

He splashed Keith back.

“Awwww yeah, splash party!” Hunk cried. “I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get my swimsuit–”

But he'd barely made it a few steps towards the door before another huge splashing sound occurred, followed by quick footsteps coming directly towards him. Hunk turned back around to see what the matter was. He had a fraction of a second to process Keith running at him, water droplets flying into the air behind him, and then something kicked Hunk's legs and he went down. A cold wetness sank through his shirt from all sides as he hit the wet floor and Keith climbed on top of him.

Hunk groaned up at the sopping wet person lying on his chest.

“Why?”

“You laughed at me,” Keith said simply.

Hunk sighed. Then he pushed Keith off easily, sat up, and pulled his shirt off, followed by his shoes. 

Lance cheered. “You coming in?”

“Since I'm already wet.”

He grabbed Keith around the waist and stood up, lifting Keith off the ground.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Keith said, and then Hunk cannonballed into the pool, and for the second time that day, Keith was drenched against his will. 

Hunk emerged, laughing – then he blinked around.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They made a break for the door when you jumped,” Lance said. 

Keith scowled, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah, 'cause they're smart.”

Hunk whacked him with a pool noodle.

It was a very soggy trio that tromped back into the meeting room.

“We brought you towels,” Pidge said sweetly.

Allura stood well on the other side of the table, lifting the towels over with her old staff – red, blue, and yellow.

“Scared of getting wet?” Hunk said. 

“I saw what Keith did to you. Dry off before you get it on us.”

She prodded the staff forward. 

“Thanks,” Keith said grouchily, taking the red one. Hunk followed suit with the yellow, but Lance was still busy figuring out the best way to arrange his sneakers on the heater.

“I'm placing an open bounty on Lance's head,” Keith announced, as he dried off his hair. “Whoever wins gets nothing but smiles from me for a day.”

Hunk whistled. “That's tempting.”

Keith pulled the towel off of his head, and Hunk and Lance gasped – but the girls all snickered, and Shiro bit back a smile.

“What?”

*Your –” Lance pointed. “It's red.”

“My what!?”

“Uh-oh,” Hunk said, pulling his own towel off of his head. “Is my–”

Keith stared at Hunk’s hair, which was bright yellow.

“Altean hair dye,” Allura announced. “Activated by water. Don't worry, it's temporary.”

Keith looked at the towel, which was now white on the inside. Then he spun around, looking for a mirror, which he finally found over the fireplace. His hair was, indeed, bright red. 

“ALLURA.”

“Well,” Pidge began, “the rest of us helped– ahh!” She broke off as Lance grabbed her and ran his wet hands through her hair.

“Someone hand me a towel!” he yelled.

Hunk tossed over the yellow one – then, after a moment's consideration, picked up the blue one as well. “I wonder if they mix to make green.”

“Only one way to find out– oof!”

Pidge had elbowed Lance in the stomach to make her escape.

Keith climbed on top of the table and stared at the ceiling.

“Uh, Keith,” Hunk said, “what are you doing?”

“Strategizing,” Keith said, and then he held his hand up to the sprinkler system and summoned his bayard. 

Everyone shrieked as the sprinkler burst on, showering the room. 

Keith hopped off the table and grabbed the blue towel out of Hunk's hand. 

“Hey, Allura,” he said, holding up the towel. “I think maybe you need a little Blue Lion pride.”

She held the staff out in front of her. “Don't you dare.”

Keith kept advancing, pushing forward against the staff with his chest. Allura stood her ground, but she was so focused, she didn't notice Hunk sneaking up behind her. 

"Got her!"

Hunk wrapped his arms around Allura's torso, pinning her arms to her sides, and lifted her off the ground.

"Put me down!"

Keith threw the blue towel to Lance, who was standing closer. 

“Lance, I'm warning you!” she yelled, but it was too late. Lance had wrapped the blue towel around her head. 

Hunk set Allura down as Lance pulled the towel away. 

"You know what, Allura," Hunk said, "blue hair suits you."

Allura glowered. 

[jungshookz]

oof ok laid ease and jean tell men,,,, twins yoongi and yoonji,, both having the same crush on y/n 👀👀 yoongi is like the music student that all the gals sWoOn over bc he plays piano in a room alone after school type deal,, while Yoonji is the edgy sister wHo dOesN’T cOnfOrm tO sOciEty but is secretly soft uwu and when they both find out they got the same crush it’s like the spiderman meme and now they gotta Fight To The Death

→ pairing: min yoongi x reader x min yoonji 

→ genre: let’s be real this is crackhead culture..,, boTh the mins are infatuated with u + i lov yoonji 

→ wordcount: 1.9k

(gif isn’t mine!)

“what do you mean you have a crush on y/n??” the question slips out from both the twins’ mouths at the same time

they pull back and blink at each other

yoonji is the first one to snap out of it

she flicks a strand of dark hair off her shoulder before raising a perfectly arched brow “you’re going to have to back off”

“over my dead body”

“..,,.i have a gun in my bag”  

yoongi scoffs immediately and rolls his eyes

“when did you start liking her?” yoongi asks curiously because the whole romAnCe thing is very…noT yoonji

yoonji’s never evEr mentioned having a crush on anyone ever before even though they have a pretty solid sibling-ship

“that’s none of your business.”

ah

yes

a very classic yoonji response

yoongi scowls and plops down on the couch

“move over, you’re sitting in my spot.” yoongi shuffles over and yoonji plops herself down

a beat of silence goes by

yoongi clears his throat

“look, sis. you can’t have a crush on y/n because i have a crush on y/n and if we both have a crush on y/n then that means-“

“that we’re going to have to fight to the death?”

“-no, it means that eventually she’s going to have to choose one of us and i don’t want you to be devastated and completely heartbroken when she chooses me over you. we shouldn’t let a girl come in between us!”

yoonji snorts in response and props an elbow up on the arm of the couch

“i hate to break it to you but you’re going to be the heartbroken one. you have one class with her this year - i have three with her, and we both write for the school newspaper. did i mention we grab lunch together pretty frequently seeing that our schedules fit perfectly with each others?” yoonji inspects her cuticles before glancing over at her brother with a smirk “and what makes you think y/n’s interested in you, mr. ‘i play piano because i’m sad but also i just want to impress all the girls’, hm? y/n’s not into that.”

“says miss ‘i have a gun in my bag’.”  

“i’m pretty sure she has a thing for bad girls and not emo boys”

“how about this?” yoongi crosses his arms and leans back against the couch “if you manage to score a date with y/n before i do, i’ll respectfully back off. but if i manage to score a date with y/n before you do, you respectfully back off. whoever gets the girl, gets the girl - fair and square.”

yoongi’s pretty confident that you’re going to end up with him so he has no problems dealing his cards

he’s attractive and smart anD talented and he can turn on the charm in any situation

and you just so happen to be attractive and smart and talented and adorable so it’s almost like you guys are meant to be!!

meanwhile yoonji is..,., well he’s biased because they’re technically identical twins so she’s like pretty-ish buT she’s kind of a bitch to people so like

he’ll be fine

yoonji’s eyes flicker up and she pokes her tongue into her cheek before turning to face yoongi fully and sticking her hand out “deal. get used to the taste of failure.”

and so it begins

“what are you doing here so early?” when you walk into the lecture you’re surprised to see yoonji sitting on the side scrolling through her phone  

here’s a little backstory regarding your friendship with yoonji

you were running late (it was only 2 minutes but late is laTE) and the prof had already started his lecture and you didn’t want to make that awkward journey down the steps of the lecture hall while looking around trying to find a spot for yourself so now you’re kind of just standing at the back with your eyes darting everywhere

“christ, just sit here.” you jump in surprise when someone tugs at your wrist and you look down to see this anGRy looking girl glaring right back up at you

she raises a brow before grabbing her backpack off the seat and dumping it next to her on the ground

ok

a little scary

but a free seat is a free seat

“thank you so much” you whisper before sitting down and quickly pulling your notebook and your pencils and note-taking markers out (you were a very eager learner at the beginning of the year lol)

yoongi snorts in humour when a couple of your markers roll away from you and clatter onto the floor in your excitement to get everything ouT

she bends down to pick two up and-

wha-

you labelled each of your markers with your name

“y/n.” she tests your name on her tongue

and in that moment

she decides that she quite likes your name

“yes?” you turn to look at her before your eyes flicker down to the markers in her slender fingers “oh! thanks! did you wanna borrow one?”

“no-“

“here, you look like a dark purple kinda gal.” you rifle through your pencil case before holding a marker up for her and plucking the other two from her “i feel like neon green and bright pink don’t suit you”  

huh

you are a very peculiar girl

“they gave me two hot chocolates instead of one” yoonji ignores your question and holds out a cup of hot chocolate for you as you sit down next to her

that’s a blatant lie

yoonji knows you like hot chocolate when it’s cold out and she always gets u a hot chocolate

“again?? they really need to start paying attention when taking orders - i’m not complaining, though!” your fingers brush over hers as you take it from her and she feels a little zap

“you look cute today, by the way.” you hum before reaching over to poke at the little braid intertwined in yoonji’s raven locks “who are you dressing up for?” you giggle with a teasing smile and yoonji’s heart goes boom-boom because yeAh she might’ve spruced up her hairstyle and put on an extra layer of lip gloss for u but whATEVER okAY

“anyways i don’t really mind what we get for lunch today because i’m starving and i just need- oOh-!” yoonji’s eyes widen when you suddenly stumble into someone and-

“are you okay?”

oh my god

OF COURSE

OF FUCKIGN COURSE IT’S YOONGI

yoonji can’t help but roll her eyes because she knows for a fact that yoongi just stood outside the lecture hall and waiTEd for you to appear and conveniently triP into his slimy noodle arms

“shit, sorry yoongi!” yoongi still has an arm wrapped around your waist while your hands clutch at his arms “god, i didn’t even see you there!”

“your shoelaces are untied again, y/n. we can’t have you tripping all over campus, can we?” yoongi unravels himself from you before bending down to help you with your laces

now

here’s the backstory regarding your friendship with yoongi

you usually like to study at the library

but on that particular day they had closed the library a little earlier than usual

and you knew that if you went back to study in your dorm room you’d probably just end up watching netflix and eating junk food for the next six hours instead of studying for your midterm

so now you’re just wandering the hallway of the music building because it was conveniently the closest building to the library

and as you make your way further down the hallway

you start to hear some music

it’s a gentle melody

soft and enticing

and soon enough you find yourself peering into the classroom staring at the back of this stranger’s head just watching as his fingers dance along the piano

you feel like you know him

it takes a couple seconds for it to sink it but then you realise who it is you’re creEpiLY staring at

min yoongi

you’ve heard his name bounce around campus more than a few times

“you know it’s rude to stare, right?” you snap out of it when the his fingers stop on the piano and he turns his head slightly

“oh, i wasn’t-“ you perk up immediately and feel the apples of your cheeks warming almost instantly

“you totally were.” he turns his head all the way and offers you a smirk

“i just wanted to find a spare classroom to study in…”  you clear your throat and step into the classroom slowly “i, uh… didn’t peg for you to be a ‘swan lake’ kinda guy. mind if i whack something out real quick?”  

yoongi raises a brow

usually the girls who approach him are all giggly and they pretend like they loOOovE the piano just like him and most of the time they ask him to play like an ariana grande song or something (although he will admit ‘one last time’ sounds beautiful on the piano)

“be my guest.” yoongi shuffles over a little and pats next to him

you smile and drop your bag on the floor before sitting yourself down and giving your knuckles a quick crack

your fingers land lightly on the keys and your brows furrow together in concentration

and then…

,.,.IS THIS HOT CROSS BUNS

you’re snickering to yourself as you bang on the keys and continue playing hot cross buns and yoongi can’t stop the fat grin twitching at the corner of his mouth

you are…. a very peculiar girl

“don’t you have somewhere else to be?” the moment yoongi finishes tying your laces up yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you backwards a little bit

she loops her arm with yours

“no, i don’t!” yoongi shrugs casually “are you guys grabbing lunch?”

“yes, we’re grabbing lunch together.” yoonji can already predict what’s going to come out of your mouth

“well, c’mon then! let’s all go grab some food before i die of starvation.” you loop your arm with yoongi’s and tug her along and yoonji resists the urge to roll her eyes when yoongi smirks and offers her a look that suggests ‘huh, look at that. she wants me there too’

cuRse your need to include everybody

and as you’re blabbing about all the food that you’re wanting to shoVe into your mouth during lunch

you’re blissfully unaware of the angry glares that the min twins are sending each other

it’s almost funny how oblivious you are to how infatuated the twins are when it comes to you 

yoongi keeps offering you bites of his food which you accept happily   

yoonji wipes a dollop of ketchup from the corner of your mouth off with a napkin 

yoongi not-so-casually places a hand on your knee and yoonji reaches behind your back so that she can pinch her brother’s side 

they’re both willing to fight to the death if the end prize is you

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

masterlist

[itbe-jess]

Tux segments

(Killing Time)

Tux and Drooper were lodging together on the back patio, where their private beach took place. They were both getting comfy sitting on the patio bench, wrapped in a warm blanket, as a beautiful sunset view displayed before them. Drooper was so relaxed over this aesthetic setting, that he was about ready to fall asleep.

Oh, but that shouldn't happen yet. Not without a goodnight kiss. The snow leopard brought the lion to face him, then delivering a grin to his lover. Drooper grinned back. Slowly, their heads moved forward, ready for their lips to meet. But before anything could happen, Drooper began shaking his head uncontrollably, ringing like a windup alarm clock. Wait a sec...

That WAS coming from his alarm clock! He went from almost receiving a goodnight kiss, to an unpleasant good morning ring. The drowsy snow leopard tapped on the button on top, and proceeded to get back to sleep. Hoping to re-enter DreamWorld.

Unfortunately, the alarm clock started to re-sound itself, causing Tux to shot back up awake. He tapped the button again, but this time that clock was as stubborn as a mule. He placed it inside his nightstand drawer to mute it, but it just popped right out on its own. The snow leopard tried drowning it out by putting it under his pillow and holding it down, only to find himself vibrating along with it.

This calls for dramatic measures! Tux then took out a miniature mallet from under his bed, then smashed his alarm clock in one whack, bringing it into pieces. Might be unnecessary, but it was the only way to shut it up. Now he can get back to his peaceful slumber.

Six minutes later, there came a knock upon his door. The frustrated snow leopard got up to answer it. When he arrived there, he found himself in the company of two policemen, with clocks for heads. The two slipped the cuffs on him.

"You're under arrest for killing time!"

In Tux's defense,

"Uh... What if I told you that the clock struck first?"

...............................

(Out With A Bang)

Poor ol' Tux found himself wandering in a dark room, which he somehow stumbled into of all places. He was accompanied by his one flashlight, as he walked forward to find a possible exit. The snow leopard shined his light at his surroundings. There appeared to be shelves full of unused dynamite sticks, round bombs, and barrels full of gunpowder.

Tux was less amused, and less frightened, and decided to move on. Suddenly, he came upon a sign.

Danger High Concentrated Explosives Do Not Ignite Any Flames

Tux only shrugged it off.

"I don't trust signs I don't know the meaning to."

The snow leopard proceeded to find his way out. Just then, on a bad timing, his batteries died. He tossed the dead flashlight away and searched himself for any useful light source. Luckily, he had a box of matches on his person. 

However, just by one little match strike, the whole room blew up to kingdom come. Don't worry, Tux is just fine, as well as alive! But, his brand new tuxedo wasn't.

..............................

(Bad Seeds) 

A worried Drooper was rushing on over to the hospital. He had gotten a call that his boyfriend was there. Tux must've forgotten to tell Drooper about this to begin with. Now the underweight lion has concern washed all over him. Is he diagnosed with something? Is he dying? 

When Drooper got to Tux's room, there he was, still wearing his tuxedo in bed for some reason, and looking painfully exhausted. Drooper comforted him on the left side of the bed, holding his paw into his.

"Tux! Oh, baby, I had such a stroke! What happened to you?"

The snow leopard showed an x-ray photo of a watermelon that's been inside him.

"I just had removal surgery." "D-Did you swallow a whole melon?" "No, worse. I swallowed the seeeeeeds."

.............................

(Unbearable) 

Tux's nextdoor neighbor, Ringer the cow, had returned from her trip to the supermarket. She then witnessed a weird sight. Said neighbor was waving a handkerchief out the window. She asked what he was doing out of curiosity.

"Tux; Whatchu doin', hun?" "Oh hi, Ringer! I'm just scaring away the bears!" 

The cow looked left, right, and behind her back.

"I don't see no bears around here." “That's because it worked!"

The snow leopard laughed himself silly. Annoyed, Ringer grabbed his handkerchief, while he was still holding onto it, and pulled him out of the window, causing him to fall flat on his face.

.............................

(The Strongest Man Alive)

Other than paying daily visits to his sweet kitten Drooper, occasionally he also likes hanging with the Splits, since they are his friends too. Right now, he and Bingo are having a good old fashioned, macho arm-wrestle. All to say right now is that the gorillatan's strength is no match for Tux's. 

"That's five games in a row, and I still have conquered your fluffy hide! No hard feelings, Bingo. SIKE! Hahahaha! I'm the winner! So, you know what that means! Say it!" "*Groans*" “Don't be a sore loser, Bingo. We had a deal! You lost, and now you have to pay the price. Say it!" “*Slowly sighs*" “While we're still alive! Say it!"

A brainstorm hit Bingo.

"WAIT! If you really want that validation, you haven't taken on Snorky yet!" "You want me to arm-wrestle with a kid?!"

Snorky was in the far right corner, doing his morning pad cleaning. When the young elephant overheard Tux call him a "kid," he was quite offended, and threw the tube of the vacuum cleaner on the ground. He took the snow leopard's word as an insult, when really he was being serious. Tux actually thinks Snorky is as young as he looks.

Honking aggressively, Snorky scurried over to Bingo and Tux, ready to take on the muscle bound snow leopard. 

"What is he saying, Bingo?" “He says he's up for the challenge! Right now!"

Tux was quite humored as he chuckled away. A "kid" thinking he could beat such a beefy giant was absolutely hilarious to him. The poor little guy might get himself hurt. Despite that, Tux accepted his challenge anyway. He was gonna go easy on the squirt, but that doesn't mean he would let them win.

The snow leopard readied his arm, but Snorky offered his trunk instead.

"Hehheh, listen, Snork, I just creamed the said strongest Split member five times in a row. Are you sure you aren't considering about backing out?"

With rage in his eyes, the elephant raised his trunk into the air, throwing the snow leopard through the ceiling and way up in the sky. To Bingo, it was such a sight to behold. Record breaking, you might say. Snorky turned towards the gorillatan, honking again.

"You want me to say it? You must be kidding."

The elephant continued to honk madly, and looked like he was ready to pummel him.

"OKAY, OKAY! Fair enough. You're the strongest man alive."

[rainandhotchocolate]

Hello luv

A/N: This took me so fkn long to write omg - also extra soz to @nym-phi for how long this took me, I got very caught up in writing longer stories… ANYWAY I hope you like this as a lil V-day fluff piece - I hope this is ok!

Come Home

Y/N closed the door behind her, sliding down the door huffing. She smelled like Carlton Draught beer, it was soaked into her fingernails, and she could still feel where men had pinched her ass all night as she served them drinks. The lights were all off in her apartment, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to get up and turn them all on. The idea of her having to stare herself in the mirror covered in the mess of a workplace she’d been in for the past year made her want to start crying again.

Remus would have already made her a hot chocolate, a hot water bottle, and sat her in bed, telling her to put in her resume somewhere else, ‘somewhere that deserves her’. Y/N hated when he said that.

Y/N groaned finally, pulling herself up off the floor, rubbing her eyes and moving begrudgingly down towards her shower. She felt the hot water burning her skin, forgetting all the places that she had been touched or beer had been poured on her. After drying herself off and slipping into bed ducking her head under the covers to black out the noise and lights still coming through the window from Shoreditch.

She fell in and out of sleep. She felt strong arms curl around her waist, pulling her back into a warm chest hair brushing into her neck…

Y/N gasped, sitting upright as daylight began streaming into her window. She couldn’t help but check the bed beside her to see if he was there, smirking slightly, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. Y/N couldn’t help it, it was like a compulsion, just in case one day he happened to be there waiting for her.

“Y/N, Y/N are you up?” Another voice called out, Y/N realising why she woke up so suddenly.

“Yes Rem, all up, not naked” She yawned, grinning at him as he pulled open the door to her bedroom rolling his eyes.

“You look wrecked” Remus came and sat next to her handing her over a large cappuccino, scrunching up his nose at the smell as she opened up the coffee cup and sipped on the powdered chocolate.

“Thanks, Moony, always know how to cheer a girl up” She sighed as the caffeine began to course through her veins, “Are you all organised for next week?”

“Oh yes, got the streamers, balloons, several chains to bolt myself to the basement so I don’t get loose and kill the rest of London in a murderous werewolf rampage”

“Perfect! And guess what, I’m on my period next week too! We’re finally in sync” She winked, gulping more of the hot coffee as it warmed her up, “So why are you over so early”

“It’s 12”

“You know I got home at 4am right”

“I was here to give you some news, shush!”

“Ok, ok” Y/N grinned into her drink. 

“Alright so, I got a letter – and stop interrupting me ok, this is good news, - from Dumbledore” His face split into a smile, one that lit up his eyes in a way that Y/N hadn’t seen in, well 11 years (11 weeks, 3 days), “He offered me a job”

“He what! What job?”

“Defence against the Dark Arts Professor”

“REMUS!” Y/N threw herself at him, hugging him a little too tightly.

“Can’t – breath” Remus attempted to laugh as Y/N pulled away from him.

“Remus, that is so exciting! How long have I been telling you to apply, Dumbledore would do anything for you”

“It is a really big deal, I’m a little worried that he hasn’t thought the whole way through” And here was classic Remus again, brow furrowing deeper into his forehead as he began listing out all the potential problems there would be if he became a Professor at Hogwarts.

“Stop it, Shush! You literally studied for this, you have run through the syllabus for fun, and I can’t even count the amount of time you tried to teach s-“ Y/N caught herself before she said it, “me how to defend myself against a Grindylow. They’re going to love you”

“He mentioned another thing as well”, Remus continued, a little quieter. Y/N felt her stomach turn over. She’d already thought about it, about who might be at Hogwarts around about now, with black hair and round glasses.

“Harry’s going to be in one of my classes” Remus began picking at his nails, a nervous habit he’d picked up ever since Professor Slughorn told him that having long nails would result in him not being able to adequately stir his potion, clearly unaware of Remus’ nails being leftover from his latest full moon.

“Has Dumbledore told him anything?”

“No, I don’t think so”.

They both remained silent momentarily. Y/N remembered the day Harry went to Hogwarts, September 1st 1991, Remus and Y/N had taken days of work and sat at home drinking Firewhiskey. Y/N almost glanced over to the small black box pushed under her bedside table, the lid bursting open with small pointy corners of envelopes pointing out the sides. Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly and turned back to smile at Remus.

“When do you start then? Do you have to go in early?”

“Well normally, yes, but I mentioned that my furry little problem peaks up again next week, so he’s allowed me to come in on the train with the rest of the students”

“Get some nostalgia, maybe they’ll let you sit up with the driver like you’ve always wanted!” Y/N winked and shoved his shoulder slightly.

“Oh shut up” Remus growled, but he was grinning at her, “I’m really excited”

“You really, really should be” Y/N squeezed his forearm, “And stop internally worrying, I bet you already have a full years study plan ready”

“Well, I have been asking Dumbledore if he can bring in some cages for me” Remus’ grinned again, a twinkle in his eye that Y/N hadn’t seen since Si-, since their own days at Hogwarts.

“Are you ok?” Remus watched her closely as she shook her head, pulling at the hem of her pyjama top.

“Yes, sorry of course! Just a bit tired, come on let's go get your supplies, I know you’re desperate to get some new 0.7mm ballpoint pens”

Remus poked her in the ribs lightly and stood up, straightening out his trousers, “Alright get dressed lazy bones, I’ll meet you downstairs”.

“Do you-“

“Yes I have two muffins and a croissant downstairs, so hurry the fuck up” Remus closed the door behind him chuckling loudly.  

They spent the rest of the day trawling through every stationary store in Convent Garden. Neither of them wanted to bring up the fact that he would probably be needing some actual magical quills from Diagon Alley. They had both been avoiding it for a while now, only going when extremely necessary, or they couldn’t find another place that sold what they needed. Waving Remus goodbye from the Northern Line platform heading back towards Brixton. She felt her stomach drop as he turned away and her head swirled with the idea of being alone for the next 6-12 months as Remus went to teach at Hogwarts. Well, alone was a stretch, it’s not like she was a loner, but Remus was her strongest connection to the magical world since James and Lily and Peter and Si-

“What the fuck” Y/N banged on her front door trying to push it open, her key getting stuck as she tried to jam it open. She gave a final whack and fell through, landing painfully in a similar position to where she had sat the night before, covered in alcohol.

“Uuuuuuughhhh” She groaned loudly, digging her finger into her now bruised hip bone and stood back up to curse at her front door. Hanging up her coat and bag she went into the kitchen, grabbing some bread and ham and making a sandwich and sitting on her dining room chair, sighing. She bit down into the rye bread before she noticed anything.

As someone who spent a lot of time at home cleaning as a way to avoid… other things, it was blindly obvious when a scruff of black hair sat in the back corner of the kitchen, sticking out from under the cabinets. She stood up suddenly, walking over to it cautiously, wand at the ready.

“Lumos” Y/N pointed at the black tufts of hair, unsure what to do about it. It had been a while since anything odd had happened around here. She’d done a very good job of making her life as predictable as possible – work, Remus, work friends drinks, sleep, repeat. Her heart had started beating heavy in her chest in that way that reminded her what it was like to feel nervous, afraid, excited.

She went over and nudged it with her foot lightly when there was a light growl behind her. She jumped and turned quickly, holding her wand hand out like a sword, her heartbeat now crawling into her throat as she gazed out into the small amount of light coming out of her wand and a small lamp sitting next to her toaster (Remus had to explain to her 3 times how it worked).

“Who’s there” Y/N hissed, creeping forwards, “Show yourself”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure the best way to see you” a hoarse voice called out from the doorway, a large figure appearing slowly in the shadows. Sirius stepped into the light, revealing skin so pale he might have been a ghost, with black matted hair and dark, sunken eyes that seemed to suck in the remaining light. He was thin. Thinner than she’d ever seen him, even when he’d come back from his Christmas break in their 3rd year having been starved for 2 weeks by his parents.

Her stomach was flipping over and over, head whirling, unsure what she should do next – what are you meant to do when your life-sentenced partner breaks out of prison and stands in your doorway.

“You don’t have to say anything – fuck – I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, maybe I shouldn’t have come here” Sirius trailed off, his eyes flashing uncertainly. Y/N closed the distance between them in three long strides and flung her arms around him. Sirius gripped her back, digging calloused fingers into her shoulder blades taking in a deep breath as if he’d been holding it.

“How did – are you ok? Are people after you?” Y/N pulled away, looking at him closer now. His face looked skull like as if the skin was stretched back over him.

“Padfoot,” He said softly, nodding to the chairs where she had left her sandwich and going over to sit down, groaning loudly as he got off his feet, “The dementors, they can’t tell when you change form.”

“You mean to tell me… that you escaped Azkaban. ASKAban – the highest security prison in the UK by being an unregistered animagus?”

Sirius shrugged, his eyes beginning to droop shut with exhaustion. Y/N pushed the sandwich closer to him and nudged his leg so he’d wake up. He jolted back upright, eyes suspicious until he saw Y/N again and followed her hand to the partially eaten ham sandwich.

“Thanks” He croaked out, clearly unable to really function. Y/N watched him closely as he slowly tried to chow down on the bread, almost a little pathetically.

“Are you…ok?” Y/N asked slowly, wincing at how pitiful the question sounded but he smiled at her, and Y/N could finally see a glimmer of the Sirius she remembered.

“I will be.” He stepped closer again, reaching out a hand as if he wanted to grab hers but he pulled away quickly, “I just, I need to get to Hogwarts”.

“Hogwarts?”

“Peter is there, he’s with Harry, I can’t let him do anything to him”

“What? Peter, are you sure?” Y/N felt her throat close up. This was the one topic that had been playing on her mind. And the one that she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up.

“You don’t believe me?” Sirius turned sour instantly, eyes narrowed, suspicious.

“Of course I do, it’s just… Peter? We haven’t heard anything about him in what-12 years? How do you know he’s at Hogwarts?”

“Fudge, he came by Azkaban – probably to gloat, and brought the newspaper. There was a photo of the Weasley’s, do you remember Arthur from school? His kids all in Egypt – and there he was, sitting on the smallest boy’s shoulder was Peter” He gushed, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “as a rat”.

“And he’s at Hogwarts?” Y/N said slowly, struggling to take in all this information at once.

“That’s what the article said” It seemed that just getting the words out was calming him down. Y/N paused momentarily.

“Why are you here, Sirius” She sighed, asking the inevitable. There was still a little part of her ticking away in her head that kept reminding her of how much it hurt the first time he left. She knew she shouldn’t blame him, she wanted so badly to believe him, but she also knew he had a one-track mind sometimes and that didn’t always leave room for her.

“I don’t know,” Sirius said honestly, “Not that I’m not glad I ended up here. Once I got out I just kept moving and moving and ended up back in your old neighbourhood. I wasn’t sure if you’d still live here but I remembered you used to keep a key out because wizards would never look for it” 

“Apparently that didn’t work” Y/N chuckled, Sirius grinning back at her. 

“I, uh, should clean up” He pointed his hands towards his ragged attire and matted hair. 

“Oh, yes, of course, the bathroom is in the same place” She pointed down the hall and he nodded, leaving her alone in the kitchen. Y/N was frozen to the spot.  A part of her wanted to grab the phone and call Remus immediately, but she already knew that he would apparate here and be sticking his wand in Sirius’ throat so quickly she’d not have hung up yet. She heard the shower begin to run and the idea of Sirius, the boy she fell in love with, the man who could make her laugh till she fell off her chair, or push up against a wall and make her legs shake. 

Y/N walked slowly down the hall towards the shower and pushed open the door. The white curtain was closed, but she could see his silhouette, hunched and thin, pushing his face under the water.

“Sirius?”

“Mmmmm” 

“Can I join you?”

There was a pause, Sirius’ silhouette having stopped dead. 

“Yes, of course. I mean it’s your shower” He was nervous, his hands almost wanting to cover up the pulled skin over his bones. He didn’t feel like he was the man who deserved to be here anymore, with Y/N, who had stripped off and looked even more beautiful than he had remembered. She stepped in slowly, moving up close to him so she could share the warm shower. 

Y/N could hear his heart beating loudly as she moved closer to his chest, his eyes looking down at her. 

“I missed you” She murmured, not yet looking up at him, her stomach turning over and over in her stomach. This was something she’d fantasised about, every single situation that could have seen Sirius’ freed and back here, with her.

“You kept me going in there, you know” Sirius stepped in closer to her, his arms itching to pull her closer, to feel her up against him, “I shouldn’t have gone to face Peter alone, I-”

Y/N lifted her head up, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him softly. He pulled her up against him and kissed her back, deepening the kiss as she pushed him up against the back of the shower. Memories of feeling his lips on hers and his tongue push through and flick onto hers, in the hallways between Transfiguration and Charms, in the secret passageways towards Honeydukes, in back rooms of James’ house when his parents had gone to sleep and James and Lily were sneaking into each other’s rooms. 

“I’m not going to leave you again” Sirius murmured into her ear, still gripping her tightly. 

“I’m not going to let you”. 

@maraudersandco  @sly-vixen-up2nogood   @blackpinkdolan @katbernoulli    siriuslyjanhvi   evyiione   @sirius-lysad   @cherrie511   @thebabblingbook   @blushingskywalker    @imlukesnirvana

[devnny]

CHAPTER THREE.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

It’s time for Devi’s side of the torment!! It pains me to write her as anything but sarcastically happy, but c'est la vie...

Devi sucked listlessly on her Brain-Freezy, eyes trained on nothing in particular, while Johnny continued happily scrawling away from his seat on the floor.

She killed him. She really did.

Well, sort of.

It was an unnerving feeling, the metaphorical blood on her hands. Even with a history of guys around her losing eyeballs and brains, or bursting into flames beside her, none of that gore was ever her fault – aside from the chalk-induced asthma attack that killed poor Spindgey Simons, which was gruesome enough for her. The most violent Devi had ever gotten was beating the man sitting a few feet away from her within an inch of his life, which he had done well to deserve, in every regard. So, it was strange to be so hung up over pushing that one inch further and actually killing him – inadvertently or not.

The point was that Johnny laid the responsibility of his impermanent demise solely on her, and maybe that’s why it bothered her so much.

The fact that Johnny was more-or-less elated that she had been the unsuspecting command behind the very real trigger was baffling to her, but of course, he was naturally more comfortable with the concepts of murder and death than she was. At some point, he’d rationalized murder as a means to an end of bitter, ugly things, so to him, the fantasy of her blowing all the horrendous, malicious things clean out of his head with one shot must be so romantic. Devi would have gagged if she wasn’t so disoriented.

She needed to talk this out with someone, and there was only one person she’d place that much misguided trust in. Her legs bent as she moved to sit up.

“Hey Nny.”

Johnny’s head bobbed up immediately, and again her stomach squeezed anxiously from his eager response.

“I forgot that I… promised to check in on my neighbor-friend. The rats have gotten so bad, I worry they’ll start eating her feet off while she’s asleep.”

Devi looked to the side, hoping such a stupid lie could pass as a bizarre truth. Johnny watched her a moment, inquisitive eyes darting around the space of her figure, before tilting his head acceptingly as he turned his attention back to the page.

“Yeah, the rats’ll do that. They always start ankles first.” Was his reply. Devi held in the nausea that she felt from how knowledgeable he sounded about the subject.

“RIGHT.” She balked. “So, I’m going to go run down and check on her, before y’know, the rats get at her. You just uh, stay here, keep working, I’ll try and keep it quick.”

Johnny seemed less comfortable about the idea of being left alone, but agreed as casually as he could. Devi didn’t hesitate to rush out, lest something stupid manifest to stop her from reaching her destination, again. Even if Sickness was neatly contained right now, she hadn’t forgotten the lengths the little tumor had gone through to make the halls of the building an impassible maze of shit.

Her strides got faster without her notice the closer that she got to Tenna’s apartment, and her heart steadily increased to a panicked pace as the direness of her situation sunk in. Her fist landed hard on the door, whacking against the cheap material franticly. A single concerned squeak was the initial reply, which at least confirmed Tenna was inside, and awake.

“Tenna, it’s me, open up!” Devi whispered as loudly as she could. It only took a few seconds for the door to open.

“Oh my God, Devi, he’s murdered you hasn’t he!?” She gasped, but didn’t receive any answer besides being pushed back inside her home. Devi released her grip on her friend’s arms to walk in paranoid circles around the living room, muttering curses to herself. Tenna watched her go around with large, kitty eyes.

“Oookay, so obviously he hasn’t murdered you.” She commented, growing more concerned the longer Devi hissed and spat at no one. “…Did you kill him??”

“No!” Devi looked at her, devastated. “I MEAN—YES!”

Tenna covered her mouth in horror at the admission, and Devi dropped onto the couch with her face in her hands. Tenna quickly scuttled to her friend’s side, arm slung around her in a messy hug.

“Oh shit, Devi! That’s – very bad!! But I bet he did something to bring that on right? Right?” She asked hurriedly. Devi rested her elbows on her thighs and hung her head down.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, FUCK.” She shuddered out. “No Tenna, he’s not dead. But I killed him. I did! I killed someone.”

“…Uh, what?”

Devi shivered, shaking her head again.

“You remember that night you told me to call him? And we heard a bang and a scream and all that?”

“Yyyeah?” Tenna looked away uncomfortably at the memory.

“The bang was a gunshot. He had something rigged up that if he answered the phone it would shoot him, and that… killed him. He died that night.” Devi stared at the ground. Saying it aloud was horrible. “But because he had those brain-things – or maybe it was the primordial demon living in his fucking WALLS – he got a redo. Satan sent his ass back here, mostly parasite free. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Tenna could only stare at Devi in concern.

“And he convinced you of all that?”

Devi immediately defended her certainty in the outlandish story.

“Tenna no, he was, like, having a fucking epiphany in my living room! You had to see him – he was absolutely losing it, ranting about how I saved him from his insanity and this and that – oh GOD.”

She fell back on the couch, melting into a heap on her side. Tenna patted her arm sadly.

“Damn it, Tenna, what did I get myself into?” Devi groaned into the cushion. “He’s still up at my place, and I have no fucking idea how I’m going to go back up there.”

“Poor, poor, foolish Devi.” Tenna sighed and continued her patting.

“No kidding. He was so bizarre about it, Ten. He looked at me like his salvation. Like I’m a fucking saint, or something.”

“Well, bright side, at least he won’t try to murder you again if he thinks you’re the Patron Saint of Destroying Head-demons, right?” Tenna thought a moment. “Well, he did try to kill you because you were his only joy in life, or whatever, so…”

Devi screamed her torment into a couch cushion for a few seconds, then sat up again, calmer now.

“No, I don’t think he’s going to try to kill me.” She said plainly. “At least not right now, anyhow. Who knows how he’ll be the more these… lessons go on.”

“You’re still going to mentor him?”

“Well, yeah, I guess!” Devi shot her hands out in exasperation. “If I told him to fuck off now that’d probably just piss him off. I don’t even know if he’ll leave me alone now that he likes me so much.”

Tenna could sense the repulsion wafting off of Devi with that emphasizing on “like”.

“Ewww, you don’t think he’d… try anything, right? All touchy-touchy?”

“Ugh, no. Thank God.” Devi looked up at the ceiling. “That was one of the things I liked about him so much, at the start. He never tried anything like that. Never tried to grab my hands or put his hands on me, or get me to put my hands on him all flirty-like – he didn’t even ask me out, I asked him. And that stupid… kiss, I initiated that too.”

“YOU wanted to give another human being a KISS?” Tenna’s eyes glittered teasingly.

“Mmughhh, don’t torment me.”

“You really liked him.”

“UUUUGH.” Devi slumped again. Why was her life so hideously unfair, constantly?

“None of those HORRIBLE choices matter right now. I’m freaking out over kinda-sorta killing this guy, and also that he’s totally enamored about it.” She exhaled. “I just needed to… let that out, I guess. Because I’m stuck with him now, for some unknown amount of time.”

Devi got up and stretched her arms and neck out while she walked. Tenna pouted.

“So you’re just gunna go back up there…?” Tenna debated momentarily if she should try and talk Devi into staying longer, or not going back at all, but any deterrent would be unlikely to work, knowing Devi, unless she had a couple of weeks to chip away at her immense stubbornness. She offered her some uplift-y parting words, instead.

“Well, I guess I’m glad you’ve been with him for like, an hour, and no death has happened yet.”

“Thanks, Ten. I’ll… call you when he leaves, or something. Wish me luck.” She sighed and left to return to her self-made mental turmoil.

--

LATER, UPSTAIRS:

“How’s this?” Johnny lifted up his finished comic to be inspected by his newly-appointed tutor. Devi pulled her mouth away from the straw of her now-melted Brain-Freezy and took the tablet from him, reading over his scratchy handwriting as best she could.

It was a fairly simple multi-panel Happy Noodle Boy comic, with protagonist hollering about ugly things on the street and committing acts of erratic violence. One of the comments he made was randomly about having head pain, and Devi wondered a moment if Johnny just used half of what was intended dialogue, and the rest was random thoughts that went through his mind while he wrote – in this case, likely a brain freeze. She decided not to bring up the writing and focused on the effort put into some of the panels.

“Y’know, even if it’s just stick figures, you’ve got a pretty good handle on perspective.” Devi commented with a lenient nod. Johnny’s eyes glistened a moment from the positive feedback, but made sure to flicker his pupils down and away from Devi’s focus when she moved to hand him back his drawing.

“I think your original talent’s still in there someplace, Nny. It’s like a drippy faucet, you just need to turn the water on – something like that.” She took another sip of her drink. Johnny stared at the comic laid across his lap.

“You said it was being “rerouted”, before.” He replied. Devi perked an eyebrow, but after a moment remembered their previous conversation on the cliff about the same subject.

“Well, if you’re not murdering creatively as an artistic outlet now, there’s only one place for it to go.” She peered down at him, and Johnny lifted his head in modest surprise.

Like usual, Devi was right. Compared to his life before the wall-thing’s destruction, he killed far, far less frequently, and definitely much less colorfully than before. He used to pull out intestines with salad tongs at buffet tables; break off limbs and reattach them to another victim with a staple gun; insert things that should never be inside a human being into orifices and then sew them up – now his killings were sparse, and straightforward in nature. A tire iron to the head of a truck stop bastard was a merciful attack, in comparison to what he would have done to him for the same offense a year earlier.

“I guess so.” He mumbled noncommittally, despite his growing certainty about it.

“You’ve just been distracted still, which is obvious with the existence of your Meaty guy. All I’m doing is making you focus your energy onto paper instead of letting it evaporate out of you.”

Johnny was silent a moment before speaking again, picking at his drawing absentmindedly.

“And what if that doesn’t work?” He asked. Devi stuck her lip out curiously.

“It will.” She affirmed, even if she wasn’t exactly sure of it herself, seeing as the only test of her theory was her own experience. But with those statistics, it worked one-hundred percent of the time, and those were good odds, right?

Johnny didn’t look totally convinced, but decided to trust Devi on the matter, for now. She had yet to steer him wrong as it was, and as she had implied before, he was the urchin in need of guidance, not her.

“Right…” He murmured as his eyes shifted away. Devi held in a sigh. She suddenly felt more exhausted with offering up her free emotional energy to play therapist to Johnny, and decided she was done for the night.

“Welp. That’s enough arting for one night, I think!” Devi announced with a pair of slaps against her knees. She sat up and walked from her seat to the middle of the room, as if to urge her guest to get up as well. She had successfully survived an entire night with her former attempted-murderer, and with the evening’s events still weighing on her, she was unwilling to let it drag on and invite something even weirder to happen. Johnny was surprised by the abrupt ‘last call’, and watched her move away with hesitant eyes.

He got up, if only to appease her, but the idea of leaving her side now made him a pinch more anxious than he would have liked. It might have just been a delusional sense of security, but it was one that he had grown quite comfortable in for the few hours that he remained at her apartment after his revelation, and the fact that he would need to leave had escaped him until she had said as much. In all likelihood, Johnny thought, Devi probably wanted to sleep, a bodily function that he often forgot other people did nightly. He wouldn’t want to deprive her of it, even if the concept of sleeping was completely unalluring to himself.

“Oh, yes.” He stalled while he tried to think of some small talk to distract himself. “That was quite a bit of drawing, for me anyway.”

“It’s a start.” Devi gave him a tiny smile, and Johnny felt he chest swell with pride – both in accomplishing the task given to him, and for seemingly pleasing Devi. He messily loaded up his pencil bag, then stepped around the coffee table to linger near her side at the door for a moment.

“So… do I come back tomorrow?” He asked. Devi’s eyes widened in surprise, mostly at herself for not even considering a time for this new addition to her schedule.

“Oh, uh,” She tried to think. “—maybe not tomorrow.”

Devi couldn’t tell by Johnny’s expression if he was saddened by that, or if his stare was one of expectance, waiting for instruction from her. Truth be told, he could come over tomorrow, but she wanted a some time to digest all of this, and maybe plan things better, if that was even possible.

“I’m going to send you home with er, well, homework!” Her mouth hitched up on one side in an awkward smile. “Just… draw a couple of things while you’re away, and bring them back in, uh…”

God, how she wished she didn’t have to give herself a countdown for this.

“—in, um, three days! Same time.” A wider smile forced over her face, and she tried not to think about how she had less than a meager seventy-two-hour window of no-Johnny time to rethink her life choices. Johnny wasn’t happy to have to wait that long to see her again, but accepted her judgement with as little pouting as he could manage.

“Alright, I will see you at 6:00PM, in three days.” He repeated aloud, more so to make sure he remembered than anything else. Devi nodded and opened the door for him.

“Great! Okay, see you later, Nny!” Her voice barely held back her deep desire to be alone now. Johnny smiled at her and waved a sporadic goodbye with his hand beside his chin.

“Bye!” He bid happily. Devi only waited for him to turn around before shutting and locking the door as quickly as she could.

Her hand remained tightly clenched around the last lock as she finally, genuinely, allowed herself to absorb everything that had happened tonight. Her forehead hit the doorframe with a forlorn thud, and her shoulders lowered pitifully.

Learning she had been the cause of Spindgey’s death as a child was hard enough to swallow, but at least it was medical-related. An asthma attack – it was about as bad as accidentally giving a kid with a peanut allergy a bite of your PB&J during lunch hour.

Knowing her actions had lead to the grisly, violent demise of anyone, let alone someone she used to… care about, was sickening. Truly nauseating. Her imagination was too healthy for her own good at the moment, visualizing Johnny bloody and broken on the floor of his house, a circular piece of his fucking skull missing. She suddenly regretted having seen so many horror films, as any and all concepts of exit wounds and brain matter haunted her in a fleeting flash of imaginary gore. It was only made worse by the new memories of his upbeat, enthused expressions from the rest of the night.

Just for a moment, Devi despised those new memories of his happiness that she had. They reminded her of the ‘old’ Johnny, and she didn’t want to picture him as he was before – how she had perceived him; as a comically-cynical movie nut and art buff. Someone that she enjoyed spending time with, laughing about how stupid people could be, and musing over whether this-or-that had deeper meanings. Mixing the image of his sneery smile that she used to love so much with any idea of how he could have looked in the clutches of death made her want to convulse in hurt and disgust.

She urged herself to her bedroom and sprawled across the face of her bed, before bundling herself up in a misshaped, unhappy ball. If the universe would permit it, she would be grateful to not think about him for the entire three days that she would be without him, but Devi knew without a doubt that the universe sucked ass, and that she would be plagued with constant thoughts of her new ‘pupil’ whether she liked it or not.

--

NEXT.

[snowdog49]

Saving Mr. Mustang

ROYAI Week 2019

Day 4: Pinned (And picture prompt?)

Rating: General Audience

He’d been gone quite a while. That was the first clue. The young apprentice that her father had taken in was not normally late. Considering that he was the only one to make it past a month of her father’s mood swings and compulsions, she expected more from him. Her brown eyes looked at the heavy grandfather clock. He’d taken the shortcut. She knew because she watched him scurry into the woods with his knapsack and list. Maybe he got lost coming back? She heard her father grumbling from the hallway, so she got up and moved into the kitchen, trying to avoid his wrath. He had been in a particularly sour mood lately, and it was best for anyone to avoid him.

But Riza had grown fond of the young boy. He was older than her but was much gentler than the past boys that had come and gone. He paid attention to her, bringing her a flower, or maybe a candy from the store when he was sent out for whatever her father requested. It was nothing anything significantly special. At first, she thought of it more as a bribe for her positive outlook on him. But she didn’t care for that. She looked past his gifts and onto his habits. ONe significant habit was that the kid was always punctual. Riza’s little fingers scratched her arm nervously as she wondered where he was. She certainly didn’t want another punk to replace him because of a simple mistake. The way her father had been the past few days, she was sure that it would come to that. She’d have to go find him before her father noticed he was late.

Riza wasn’t allowed out of the house without a good reason. Even at 10, she was kept inside with her own studies. Her tutor wasn’t going to come for a few hours, and that left her with a small window to save Mr. Mustang if she could find him. The scrawny boy had probably tripped and sprained his ankle, she thought, annoyed that it’d have to be her to find him. She certainly couldn’t plainly tell her father she was going to rescue the kid that he favored over herself. That’d end well for both of them. She could hear it now. “That failure of an apprentice is worthless.” Her father would exclaim. “When will I ever have a competent person around here?” Riza sighed.

“I might as well try,” she grumbled. “At least we both shall fail together.” She grabbed her jacket and her small rifle. “Father, I’m going out. I’m going to try to get a game bird for dinner.”

She heard a loud mumble from the hallway.

Riza silently mocked his mumbled back at him and turned to leave. She stomped down the trail, glaring at the woods she trekked towards. Her fist tightened around the sling that held the gun over her shoulder. “You better be okay,” she grumbled.

The trail was even, worn from the travels of her and other children through the woods. Game trails, deer, rabbits, and hogs, created side trails like spider webs intertwining between the thick brush and trees. Riza did not consider Mr. Mustang was stupid enough to think a game trail would lead him to the Mercantile and quicker, however, he was rather book smart and not… life smart. He seemed naive at times; like things would eventually get better under her father’s apprenticeship. It wouldn’t. It was only going to get harder.

Coming to a fork in the trail, she stopped to listen, quieting her agitated thoughts. Somewhere in the deep dark parts of herself, she hoped that she’d find him crying. Then she could finally be the one telling him to grow up instead of vice versa. The wind swayed the trees while they moaned. The leaves chattered around her from the bushes. A woodpecker tapped away in his short spurts into a dead hollow tree, and a squirrel chattered madly on the other end of the trail. Riza closed her eyes, listening for any irregularities in the woodland song. Nothing. “I bet he’s still at the store flirting it up with Mr. Culpepper’s daughter,” she muttered angrily. “If he is, I’m leaving him there.”

Her steps were soft, nearly silent as she walked down the trail. There were a couple open areas that she passed, hoping to find him sleeping. He wasn’t there. He was going to make her look more like a fool when he beat her home and asked her why she’d ever go looking for him. “I’ll shoot him in the foot,” she snorted. Just as she puffed out her cheeks, imagining him teasing her, she heard a dog barking. There were a few dogs in the area. Most of the ranchers and farmers had a dog or two. Every so often, she’d come across one that had wandered into the forest, probably chasing a rabbit, but they always returned home. She was about to ignore it and continue when she heard another sound.

“Stupid mutt!”

“Yup,” she sighed. That was him. His scratchy high pitched voice was recognizable in her sleep. She looked down to see little paw prints in the soft dirt, smudged shoe tracks from Mr. Mustang running. “What did you do now?” She followed a game trail over a little knoll which he had shimmied up a tree for safety. The dog stood at the base of the tree, jumping up, lifting its front paws just an inch or two from the ground as it barked. The dog did look a bit angry, but not rabid. If she would guess, it was probably that new dog that the Murphy Ranch took in. It always did seem odd. It chased cars which was the stupidest thing she’d ever seen. However, it looked pretty harmless to her. Mr. Mustang, on the other hand, the alchemic prodigy, was pinned up in a tree, calling the dog names. She didn’t even feel she needed to save him, he could just carve a fancy circle into the tree and save himself.

“Riza,” he called out as he saw her. “Run! The dog is trying to get me!”

Riza raised her eyebrows. Run? It was a barking dog. It wasn’t even worth dropping the rifle from her shoulder. She sighed as she started walking towards the tree.

“No!” He continued. “It’s going to hurt you!” He waved his hand at her, urging her to save herself. Of course, he would. As much as her father made her life difficult, Mr. Mustang would not make it out of her home alive it anything was to happen to her.

The dog turned to see its new target, growling at her, barking a few times. Riza would have none of it. She stomped right up to the dog. “No!” She yelled pointing her finger at it.

The dog barked louder at her, lunging at her in a false charge.

Riza didn’t move. She stood her ground, staring the dog down. “No!” The 10-year-old girl stepped forward. “Go home!”

The dog stopped barking and tilted its head to the side.

“I mean it now! Go on!”

The dog growled a bit more before Riza extended her arm and gave the dog’s nose a good whack.

“Holy shit,” she heard Mr. Mustang exclaim.

The dog shook its head before turning tail and heading home rather quickly.

She turned to see the young man jump from a lower branch, looking at her with complete amazement. “How… How did you do that?” He stuttered as he brushed his shirt off absentmindedly.

“You just have to tell the dog who’s boss,” she replied simply in her cold and even voice as if it was nothing and common knowledge.

“I…I…” He blinked at her, still surprised that she had just sent the dog away like that. “But you didn’t say anything to the dog!”

“I told him I was boss.” She turned and started walking away as if her actions meant nothing. “Come on before Father finds out you’re gone too long. You know how impatient he is.”

Roy shook his head, still in disbelief of his rescuer. “You came to find me?”

“I won’t make it a habit either.”

He caught up to her and they followed the same well-defined path back home.

“What did you do anyway?”

Roy tilted his head.

“To anger the dog,” she continued, becoming more annoyed.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied. “Well…”

They both stopped. The sun filtered through the branches, and the cool hair played with her bangs.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of jerky. “I remembered that when we went shopping last week, you wanted one, but Master told you no. So I picked you up one.”

She blinked. He’d brought her back suckers and little candies. However, a slice of jerky was a bit more expensive. It was still a kind gesture; kind and generous. “It wanted the jerky?”

He shrugged. “And I swatted at it. When it nipped at my leg, I threw a rock at it.” He sighed, handing the dried meat to her. “It obviously didn’t like that.”

She looked at the dark brown dried slice of beef. She started to tear off a piece and gave it to him. “You probably need some after running so far.”

He blushed as he took it, sticking it in his mouth to chew on it. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Why didn’t you just draw a circle into the tree?”

“I…uh…” He lifted his hand behind his head with a sheepish grin. “I lost my knife in the run,” he admitted.

“You’re going to be in trouble,” Riza rolled her eyes. “This will be a sight to see. No fancy chalk, no knife… Looks like you are pretty useless without your magic tricks.”

He laughed as he started walking down the trail. “Ah, I don’t need any magic when I have you watching my back.” His strides were long, stiff-legged, as he puffed out his chest in a physical boast. The jerky between his teeth with a wide grin as he looked back at her.

“Mr. Mustang, you are going to need a whole army watching your back when you get older.” She pulled the rifle up on her shoulder more comfortably, and followed behind him

[obtusemedia]

The best songs of the 2010s: #25-1

#25: “SICKO MODE” by Travis Scott feat. Drake (2018)

When music historians look at hip-hop’s late-’10s dominance, I have no doubt that “SICKO MODE” will be viewed as the pinnacle of the era.

Let’s just go through a checklist of what makes “SICKO MODE” an instant classic: The weirdo multi-part structure. Travis Scott’s nearly two-minute long verse with quotable lines galore. Drake somehow managing to make falling asleep on an airplane sound cool. That spooky two-word Swae Lee refrain. Multiple Jamba Juice name-drops (inspiring a hilarious meme video). An iconic, striking music video with whacked-out imagery galore. 

But most importantly, it’s a stone-cold banger that will get any dance floor moving. What more could you want? 

#24: “Dance Yrself Clean” by LCD Soundsystem (2010)

You might have noticed that one of the decade’s biggest musical trends — EDM — hasn’t shown up much on this list. That’s because a majority of it has already aged badly, even just a few years later. Songs like “Don’t You Worry Child” or “Wake Me Up!” certainly have their charms, but unlike the more enjoyable, trashy electropop that preceded it, most EDM hits were plodding and self-serious. And its best artist, Calvin Harris, made his best work when he drifted away from the subgenre’s rigid structure and just made pure pop music.

But my passiveness towards EDM doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a great drop. There’s been plenty of songs on the list with incredible drops up to this point, and there’s still a couple more to come. Hell, I even halfway considered putting some Skrillex on the list just because some of his early stuff still can get your pulse pounding (even if these songs REEK of the early 10s). But there will never be a drop more bonkers than “Dance Yrself Clean.”

Indie legends LCD Soundsystem kicked off the decade with a bang with this song — but they made you wait for that bang. More than three minutes, to be exact. But those who were patient enough to sit through the quiet, drawn-out opening were treated to frontman James Murphy wailing like a madman over a shuffling beat, bouncy bass and a cascading, randomized symphony of analog synthesizers. Although I’m sure Murphy calculated every second of “Dance Yrself Clean,” it sounds like absolute anarchy. And in the moments when his screaming vocals go hoarse over the slamming synths, it’s unreal.

#23: “Born To Die” by Lana Del Rey (2011)

This was the first Lana Del Rey song I heard, back in my junior year of high school. I was immediately floored. The vocals, the cinematic orchestral sweep, the spaghetti western guitars, the tragically beautiful lyrics  — it was an instant masterpiece. There was no way Lana wouldn’t be the world’s biggest popstar within a year.

A couple months later, Lana infamously bombed on Saturday Night Live, which some thought would derail her career entirely. Even after her career has survived and she’s become a critical darling with a cult fanbase, her debut album, Born To Die, and its title track still have a bit of the stink from that SNL performance. Well, no more.

“Born To Die” is a haunting gothic-pop masterpiece that’s aged much better than much early-’10s pop (although I love the corny club stuff from that era, don’t get me wrong). Lana’s smoky voice is unparalleled, the trip-hop production is untouchable.

And although her pinnacle wouldn’t come until 2014 with her sophomore album Ultraviolence, “Born To Die” is still Lana’s most perfect single to date.

#22: “Green Light” by Lorde (2017)

In 2013, Lorde completely upended the pop universe with “Royals,” a minimalist tune chastising radio hits for their un-relatable opulence. By 2017, the culture had fully gravitated towards Lorde’s moodier sound, with greyscale acts like Post Malone and Alessia Cara writing monster hits about being angsty and sad (and not in the artsy, brilliant way that worked for Kurt Cobain or Kanye). It was a far cry from the neon, bubbly world of Katy Perry and Carly Rae Jepsen from a few years prior.

The New Zealand prodigy could’ve cashed in on being ahead of the curve and continued down her minimalist moody path. But she did the opposite with the defiant and proudly energized “Green Light.” Yes, it’s a breakup anthem, but Lorde doesn’t wallow in her sadness here (she saves that for other Melodrama cuts). Instead, she wailed away into the night, playing off of the thundering drums and bouncing pianos of Jack Antonoff’s production (his best-ever). 

With “Green Light,” Lorde let her ex, and the world, know that she isn’t going anywhere. She might not ever reach the commercial heights of “Royals” again, but she’ll be an icon as long as there’s heartbreak that needs overcoming.

#21: “If You Know You Know” by Pusha-T (2018)

Pusha-T’s magnum opus, “If You Know You Know,” is a masterclass in cocaine rap with its effortless wordplay, sinister-yet-charismatic flow and blaring Kanye West beat. It deserved to be the song of the summer in 2018, but the masses chose a C-tier Drake single instead (despite Push absolutely ENDING Drake that summer).

But that doesn’t diminish the achievement Push made with this song. It’s quite a feat to record your best-ever track 17 years after your breakout. It’s even more of an accomplishment when that track kicks as much ass as “If You Know You Know.”

#20: “Teenage Dream” by Katy Perry (2010)

Teenage Dream-era Katy Perry is one of pop’s all-time juggernauts. The five consecutive #1 hit singles that album racked up is a feat matched only by Michael Jackson. Of those five singles, one stands out as the clear masterpiece of the group: the album’s title track (although “T.G.I.F” is also incredible).

I remember feeling a little underwhelmed by “Teenage Dream” when I first heard it in 2010. Her last single was a goofy, bombastic summer jam complete with a ridiculous video. “Teenage Dream” is a much more conventional, timeless pop jam. The chord structure is shockingly simple and the lyrics are lovestruck notes from a ‘50s ballad.

But that simplicity is what makes the song work. “Teenage Dream” has aged well because sometimes, all you need is three chords, a monster hook and yearning lyrics. This song will be Perry’s biggest legacy.

#19: “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” by Car Seat Headrest (2016)

“Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” has to be the only uplifting, U2/Nirvana-style power ballad about DUIs.

Landing smack in the middle of Car Seat Headrest’s indie rock concept album/instant-classic Teens of Denial, “Drunk Drivers” is about the main character taking stock of his entire life and emotional instability. And yes, it all centers around driving drunk — or in this case, refusing that temptation as an impetus to change one’s life.

Naturally, in the very next song on the album, it’s revealed that the narrator drove drunk and got arrested anyways. But for a cathartic six minutes, “Drunk Drivers” provides a fleeting escape from the constant loop of self-hate and depression. Not to mention that it’s a grinding ‘90s alt-rock throwback that probably makes Billy Corgan jealous.

#18: “Harmony Hall” by Vampire Weekend (2019)

I’d never guess that Vampire Weekend’s second-best song (after “Oxford Comma,” of course) would be a hippie-friendly tune combining the Grateful Dead and Screamadelica. But here we are. And awkward combination or no, Ezra Koenig knew exactly what he was doing.

In a very dark, uncertain year, Koenig decided to write a song that doubled both as a blissed-out reprieve and a nervous warning. The music is utopian, but the lyrics detail the anger, confusion and constant obstacles of life in the late ‘10s. Koenig takes a lyric from one of his previous songs — “I don’t want to live like this/but I don’t want to die” — and makes it a rallying cry for anxious Millennials around the world, paranoid that the world might not stick around much longer.

It’s a heavy topic, but the gorgeous instrumentals, breakbeat drums, lilting guitars and bouncy pianos certainly ease the stress. “Harmony Hall” is a late-career masterpiece for the ages.

#17: “Marvins Room” by Drake (2011)

Never before has a booty call sounded so sad.

Way before he ruled the pop universe, Drake was just hip-hop’s resident mope. And “Marvins Room” is peak sadboi Drake. Using a real voicemail message in the hook (that he was later sued for using), “Marvins Room” is a six-minute phone conversation in which Drake drunkenly begs his ex to come back.

On the surface, what Drake discusses are what most rappers brag about — sex, money, wealth. But in “Marvins Room,” Drake seems to view them as obstacles to his ex, who he clearly still isn’t over. When he said he had sex four times this week, he sounds disgusted with himself, not proud.

Drake doesn’t look remotely good in this song; it’s more than a little pathetic. But it feels real and raw and revealing in a way that few R&B ballads are willing to get.

#16: “Pedestrian At Best” by Courtney Barnett (2015)

Courtney Barnett’s grungy masterpiece, “Pedestrian At Best,” is appropriately angsty given its crunchy guitars and yell-y vocals. But the Melbourne singer-songwriter touches on a different kind of angst here than Pearl Jam usually tapped into: the pressure of living up to sky-high expectations.

In the early/mid ‘10s, Barnett was earning lots of hype after witty (and excellent!) early singles like “Avant Gardener” and “History Eraser.” She clearly assumed she’d screw up her debut album following up those breakout songs, as she declares herself “a fake” and “a phony” in “Pedestrian At Best.” 

Arguably her generation’s best lyricist, Barnett nails her expectation to squander the public’s expectations: “Put me on a pedestal and I’ll only disappoint you/Tell me I’m exceptional, I promise to exploit you.” The ironic thing is, she did the opposite. “Pedestrian At Best” is one of the most successful songs about failing.

#15: “Ni**as in Paris” by Jay-Z and Kanye West (2011)

There was some close competition, but I don’t think there was a more quotable rap song this decade than Jay-Z and Kanye West’s crowning achievement from Watch The Throne, “Ni**as in Paris.”

The classic lines don’t stop coming throughout the minimalist banger. Jay’s verse is smooth braggadocio perfected: “I’m liable to go Michael, take your pick: Jackson, Tyson, Jordan, Game 6.” Then Kanye comes crashing in with some truly bizarre bars that are both the dumbest and greatest thing you’ve ever heard. After hearing the song, I never felt the same way about fish filets ever again.

And then, the piece de resistance — Kanye’s inspired Will Ferrell sample from Blades Of Glory. It’s one of the most left-field and iconic moments in hip-hop history, and perfectly described the song itself. “NOBODY KNOWS WHAT IT MEANS. BUT IT’S PROVOCATIVE. IT GETS THE PEOPLE GOING.” Amen.

#14: “Run Away With Me” by Carly Rae Jepsen (2015)

Carly Rae Jepsen deserved to be one of the biggest popstars of all time. She should be selling out the same arenas that Taylor Swift and Beyoncé fill. But, in what is a true tragedy, the British Columbia native is only remembered as being that singer with that one earth-shattering hit and a feverish cult following.

But despite how adorable and fun “Call Me Maybe” is, Jepsen’s true magnum opus is her 2015 album, EMOTION, and its bombastic opening track, “Run Away With Me.” 

The single is a masterclass in blending ‘80s flourishes with modern production. On the thunderous chorus, the EDM synths and roaring saxophone riff work in harmony with Jepsen’s passionate vocals to create pure pop bliss. Combined with the intimate verses, the single perfectly encapsulates that butterfly-feeling of a relationship’s honeymoon stage.

“Run Away With Me” is only one of many, many Jepsen singles that would’ve been #1 smashes in a perfect world. But the lack of chart success for this one especially hurt.

#13: “Formation” by Beyoncé (2016)

Where were you when “Formation” dropped? I bet you probably remember (I was writing an essay in my college’s library).

Sure, Beyoncé’s self-titled 2013 album is the surprise drop that gets all the attention. But “Formation” came out of nowhere too a few years later, and let’s be honest — it was much better. (side note: 4 is also much better than the self-titled)

Mike Will Made It’s beat for “Formation” incorporated some Texas twang into his trap-pop production — a fitting match for a Houston legend like Beyoncé. And Bey takes heat-check shot after heat-check shot here: declaring herself the next Bill Gates; casually dropping a “swag” ad lib and magically not sounding corny as hell; making a trip to a mediocre chain seafood restaurant sound like a cool post-sex reward.

It all works. And that’s because on “Formation,” Beyoncé was as untouchable and fearless as her cutthroat stans had always proclaimed her to be. The fact that it was the triumphant coda to one of the decade’s best pop albums just cements its legend.

#12: “Old Town Road (Remix)” by Lil Nas X and Billy Ray Cyrus (2019)

It’s the longest-running #1 hit in U.S. history. An unstoppable juggernaut that held titans like Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran and Drake from the top of the charts. And, oh yeah — it’s perfect.

There are probably a few party poopers out there who hate “Old Town Road.” I am not one of them. By 2019, pop’s grayscale, Post Malone-fueled gloom had gotten out of hand. Then out of nowhere, this teenage Nicki Minaj Twitter stan writes a goofy novelty song that’s both a parody of country clichés and a sincere celebration of the cowboy lifestyle. (It’s also the greatest country song ever written, and the entire city of Nashville can fight me on that.)

Lil Nas X has a pure charisma other artists would kill for, from his warbly, infectious chorus to his endlessly quotable verse (WRANGLER ON MY BOOTY!!). And pulling Billy Ray Cyrus away from Hannah Montana-funded retirement to drop a shockingly fire verse about living the luxury lifestyle in Beverly Hills? There’s no way this wouldn’t be one of my all-time favorites.

Sometimes, when it comes to predicting future classics, you’ve just got to trust the screaming elementary schoolers.

#11: “Midnight City” by M83 (2011)

“Midnight City” sounds like what Space Mountain feels like.

The decade’s best electronic song is so perfect as to be almost alien, yet also remarkably warm and human. And just when you thought the song couldn’t get better, the second-greatest sax solo of all time (only behind “Jungleland”) bursts out of the neon layers of synth.

M83 has a catalogue stuffed with stunning retro synthpop bangers. The fact that “Midnight City” towers above them all is a testament to the song’s sheer majesty.

#10: “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift (2012)

Yes, I’m aware that this is the obvious Taylor Swift pick for this list. But Swift’s literary masterwork, “All Too Well,” hits me too hard to deny it.

“All Too Well” is so packed with vivid details and intense emotional swings that it feels like more like a short story backed by arena-rock instrumentation more than a pop song. From her an abandoned scarf tucked in a drawer, to her ex’s mother embarrassing him with his dorky child photos, to the phone-call breakup that was “casually cruel in the name of being honest,” Swift didn’t leave anything out.

Coupled with her songwriting, Swift’s vocals also make “All Too Well” her pinnacle. She reaches into her upper register so rarely that it sends shivers whenever she does, like on the emphatic climax here. 

If it catches me in the right mood, Swift’s performance, the lilting guitars and cutting lyrics in “All Too Well” brings a few tears to my eyes. (Yes, really.) It’s only fitting that one of the greatest breakup anthems of all time is sung by a master of the artform.

#9: “Ivy” by Frank Ocean (2016)

I was very tempted to put Frank Ocean’s 10-minute synthpop epic “Pyramids” on the list instead. Make no mistake — if it wasn’t for my self-imposed one-song-per-artist rule, both it and “Ivy” would’ve placed highly.

But “Ivy” is a heart-stopper. It’s a fairly simple song, with just Ocean’s raw vocals playing off the languid guitars. To pull a song like this off, you have to be a double-threat, a genius lyrically and a stunning singer. Ocean fits that bill. 

“Ivy” is the decade’s greatest R&B song, a heartbreaking ode to a slowly crumbling relationship.

#8: “The Edge Of Glory” by Lady Gaga (2011)

Lady Gaga’s best songs hit you like a brick to the face. Gaga — the greatest pop star of the 21st century, don’t @ me — has plenty of pop bangers that do this, particularly on the wildly underrated Artpop (shoutout to the insane and insanely fun “G.U.Y.”). But arguably none of her singles provide as much maximalist pleasures as “The Edge Of Glory.”

The track reeks of trying too hard in the best way possible. Gaga reaches into her upper vocal register frequently, scratching her upper limits every time she reaches the chorus. The production is a messy-but-beautiful jumble of slamming synths and drum machines. And that Clarence Clemons sax solo — one of the last musical contributions he made before his death that same year — is just the icing on top of the gloriously sugary cake.

Gaga’s over-the-top synthpop from her early years isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But for someone like me, who wants pop to feel as massive and inescapable as humanly possible, “The Edge Of Glory” is still a towering high-water mark.

#7: “Pay No Mind” by Beach House (2018)

This spot could’ve been taken by any number of Beach House songs, the modern masters of dream-pop. “Space Song,” “Myth,” “Take Care” — the Baltimore duo honed in on a specific musical style and perfected it.

To me, “Pay No Mind” is the culmination of those years of Beach House subtly tinkering with their hazy, nocturnal sound. It’s like a gothic wedding slow-dance song: the right rhythm and with a romantic feel, but maybe a bit too gloomy for your grandparents. But regardless, “Pay No Mind” is breathtakingly beautiful, like seeing neon lights through the fog.

#6: “m.A.A.d. city” by Kendrick Lamar feat. MC Eiht (2012)

If you haven’t tried to memorize the nearly two-minute uninterrupted opening verse of “m.A.A.d. city,” were you even alive in the early ‘10s?

Kendrick Lamar has written many hip-hop epics in his career so far, but so far none have topped the semi-title track from his major label debut, good kid, m.A.A.d. city. In that concept album about Lamar’s teen years growing up amidst the gang warfare in Compton, “m.A.A.d city” marks the point where the gangsta dream shifts into a horrifying nightmare. 

The song is a blur of murder, violence and police sirens. Lamar sounds positively terrified on the track, his voice cracking while he confesses. And bringing on old-school rapper MC Eiht to play a veteran gang member snapping Lamar out of his haze was a brilliant move. “m.A.A.d city” is an exhilarating tour-de-force that proved how much raw talent, in both flow and storytelling, Lamar had.

#5: “Somebody Else” by The 1975 (2016)

If Vampire Weekend is the most important band of the early ‘10s, then The 1975 is the most important band of the rest of the decade. Their transformation from (really good!) simple pop-rock to tacking incredibly dark subject matter while successfully taste-testing their way through nearly every musical genre was unexpected. And brilliant, seeing as they pulled it off.

But The 1975′s best track is much less capital-I important than most of their epics about Trump or suicide or heroin — it’s a synthpop song about complicated post-breakup emotions. But “Somebody Else” earns its keep as the band’s pinnacle through sheer relatability. It nails that complicated feeling of being over someone...but not really. Or as lead singer Matty Healy puts it bluntly: “I don’t want your body/but I’m picturing your body with somebody else.”

The shuffling drum machine groove and icy synths complete a perfect song for wandering aimlessly at night, longing for a lost love. And although The 1975 might switch sounds endlessly in their career, their sweet spot will always be this moody ‘80s update.

#4: “TiK ToK” by Ke$ha (2010)

“TiK ToK” is still easily the peak of the 2009-12 pop golden age. It has a bit of everything you’d want in a single from that era: Gloriously grimy synths! An uber-catchy chorus with plenty of demands to party! And of course, a charismatic and unforgettable star who can deliver the song. I don’t think anyone would argue Ke$ha fit that role to a T.

When “TiK ToK” first arrived around the turn of the decade, I couldn’t stand it. I thought it was too sleazy. Nearly 10 years later, Ke$ha’s performative sleaziness is exactly what makes this song so fun. Yeah, the hook is bulletproof and the production is buzzy. But Ke$ha’s slurred, drunken delivery and ridiculous lines are what have kept “TiK ToK” in the public consciousness. She single-handedly made P. Diddy and especially Mick Jagger relevant again. She made brushing your teeth with Jack Daniels seem cool (and not insanely nasty, like it actually is). Every single ridiculous line, sung through Ke$ha’s fake valley girl accent, is a gem.

I can understand how someone wouldn’t like the unfiltered debauchery and greasiness of “TiK ToK.” But to me, that’s the entire charm of it, and what makes it stand out amongst a sea of similarly-minded club jams from its era.

#3: “Runaway” by Kanye West feat. Pusha-T (2010)

I was going to ask all of you to forget about Kanye West’s recent stumbles, be it his association with Donald Trump or his insistence that slavery was a choice. But the power of “Runaway” is that it is a semi-apology from a man who knows he’s deeply flawed. Every one of Kanye’s gaffes and terrible decisions makes “Runaway” even more relevant today.

But “Runaway” was originally a response to Kanye’s infamous “Imma let you finish” rant at the 2009 VMAs, where he interrupted Taylor Swift. The song basically operates as a semi-apology to the world for being, as he puts it, a douchebag. An asshole. A scumbag. A jerkoff. He’s somewhat bragging about his misdeeds, while sheepishly asking for forgiveness.

And yet, it’s an extremely vulnerable song. The bridge — “I guess that you’re at an advantage/Cause you can blame me for everything/And I don’t know how Imma manage/If one day you just up and leave” — initially feels like something Kanye is saying to a lover. But really, he’s saying it to all of us. And it’s arguably the most moving moment in his whole career.

#2: “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell and Nile Rodgers (2013)

Don’t think about it too hard, folks. 

Considering that Daft Punk are the greatest dance-music artists of all time, it only makes sense that they’d dip their toes into disco and absolutely KILL it. And that’s all “Get Lucky” is. Two French masters making their grand comeback by recruiting one of funk’s finest guitarists and one of the 2000s’ most charismatic vocal presences. 

“Get Lucky” will be a wedding dance staple until the sun explodes. And it deserves that status. It’s a flawless dance track. Just embrace the groove.

#1: “Archie, Marry Me” by Alvvays (2014)

My favorite song of the 2010s wasn’t a part of some major trend. It wasn’t particularly influential. It doesn’t have any profound meaning, and it didn’t try to tackle a major event. “Archie, Marry Me” just happens to be the greatest indie pop song ever written.

Every little aspect of Toronto band Alvvays’ debut single works, from the surf-y guitars to lead singer Molly Rankin’s monotone-yet-yearning vocals. With its lo-fi ramshackle charm and monster hook, “Archie, Marry Me” is all you could want in a dream-pop single. It even has the nice touch of echoing a Neil Young classic in the chorus.

The whole intention of this list — as it is with any of my year-end lists — is simply to measure which songs made me the happiest; which songs never wore out on me. And no single this decade puts a bigger smile on my face than “Archie, Marry Me.” It’s simple, achingly romantic (in a Wes Anderson-esque half-ironic way, but still), and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.