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#they went I really liked your last drawing of the pig dude
clanofjones · 1 year
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Ghosts of Our Days - Chapter Eleven
Ao3
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Chapter Eleven: Two's a Company, Three is a Crime
TW: Homophobic language and semi-graphic descriptions of murder.
A/N: Co-written with @theosb0rnway :)
Casey Jones never took the day off, that was a fact set deep in stone. If evil never slept, then neither did she, but this was different. 
He needed a day to process the idea that his boyfriend was not just a corpse in an icy coffin, but a being, a SPIRIT, that only Casey could see. He slept mostly, residing on top of the ice box while Raph watched her from afar, hesitant to make a move and not wanting to scare or piss off his lover. He didn't want to be double dead. 
The next day was far more productive, and Casey seemed to be in a much better mood after his almost day-long rest. The duo sat at the little coffee table in the middle of the room, Casey writing down ideas for his next moves against Shredder while Raph played with his ghostly sais. 
Who knew that whatever you had on your person also went with you to the next life? Raph didn't know much, or used to care much, about death, thinking he was some invincible force that even when battling Oroku Saki as Super Shredder could not be defeated, but now, here he was, thoroughly defeated. 
He was dead, and he was spiritually attached to the prettiest lunatic on planet Earth whose only current goal was to kill Super Shredder, not something normal like taking a shower or eating a meal that wasn't packaged. It was an issue, sure, but then again, to Hamato Raphael, Casey Jones was the definition of putting the 'hot' in psychotic. 
Said hot lunatic was actually being productive, scribbling some ideas down that Raphael surprisingly approved of. 
Ways to get that bastard's attention: 
Don't? Nah, that's no fun 
Bomb the old mansion 
Karai? 
Take down Tiger Face 
Fish Face 
Wolf Dude 
Beat the shit outta Hun! 
There was a giant scribbled star by the last one, making it officially Casey's favorite choice, despite it loosely having to deal with Shredder. Off to the side, there were little drawings of Casey using various weapons to kill Shredder and his Foot goons, which Raphael tried to ignore as best he could. Then something else popped into the scheming vigilante's mind, a way to get not only Shredder's attention, but the entire city's. A way to make himself truly known. It was a... different idea, but Casey knew she had to throw it out there. For all he knew, Raph might actually like it. 
"Hey, Raphie?" 
"Yeah, babe?"
"...What 'bout goin' after a cop?"
"A cop?" Raph didn't seem angry, which was a good sign. 
"Yeah! Get us actual attention from all the cameras and reporters and shit cause killin' the Foot ain't doin' nothin'." 
"Wait, you wanna... kill a cop?" Casey looked at Raph like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. 
"Duh! Hurting one won't do anything!" 
"Casey, I agree that it'll get us the attention we need, but if we do that, it's gonna get us attention from EVERYWHERE. We're gonna have to be way more careful about what we do and how we're see- how you're seen." 
"So you're... not mad?" Is that really what Casey was focused on right now? 
"'Course I'm not mad, Case! Cops are assholes-" 
"Damn right!" 
"But we also gotta focus on keeping you safe. I know you can pull off the job, but the hardest part is making sure whatever they send after you doesn't find you." 
"I can handle it, Raphie. I hate you always rainin' on my parade, sayin' I can't do things like you can. Not like this is my first time dealing with pigs." 
"I'm not 'raining on your parade', babe, I'm just scared you can't do this by yourself." 
"Casey Jones wo-" 
"I know, I know! 'Casey Jones works better alone', but you can't work at all if you're caught, or worse, killed!" Casey sighed, but from behind her mask, he looked like he was in thought, chewing at her bottom lip. 
"Alright, I'll listen to you, just this once. So whaddya think I should do after I off the guy? Or lady? Or... what's a word for not a dude or a girl?" 
Raph did a facepalm. "It's just a cop, Case, Jesus Christ." 
"Yeah, you're right. But what should I do after I off the pig?" 
"Lay low. Before you do it, we should go out one last time for food and supplies, stuff that'll last us at least a month or so."
"A month? Hope they got those dumb little number puzzles at the store cause I'm gonna need 'em." 
"Sudokus, and yeah. Ya know ya' got me too, babe." 
"I know, but now that I can't pin ya down, I've gotta find other ways to keep busy." 
Raph swore he could hear Casey smirk and blushed a little, not that he could tell.
"I'm gonna need paint too, and I might... I'm gonna try to stop by my place, get clothes, money stash, firepower, all that." 
"Alright." 
"Raph?" 
"Yeah?" 
"...C-Can I let her see me? She's good at keepin' secrets, she doesn't know 'bout what we do, there's no way they could tie me to her if we're careful-" 
"Yeah. Tell her Mr. Turtle says he loves her, okay?" "Course, baby. I know she loves you too, a lot. Oh god, she has no idea that you-" 
Raph put a hand on Casey's shoulder and grimaced at her natural flinch. "Sorry. Look, don't tell her, it'll break her little heart and nobody wants that." 
"I wasn't going to, I'm not gonna hurt my baby sis like that, she's everything I've got left! A-and I left her all alone with Arnold... oh FUCK ME!" Casey slammed her fist down on the table and Raph could hear her crying underneath the mask. 
"It'll be okay, Case, I promise." 
"Will it though?" 
"If we get it done right, yeah. It'll be fuckin awesome." 
"You promise?" 
"I promise, dumbass." 
"Thanks, Raphie boy." 
"No problem, Casey baby." Raph put his arms around Casey, and even though she couldn't exactly do the same, he still tried his best. Casey broke the "hug" standing up slowly and stretching herself out. 
"Ugh! That fuckin table's so low, it's more of a pain in my back than Donnie!" Raph snorted, standing up through the table. 
"So where to, master planner? 
"First thing's first!" She smiled through the mask, "I need the rest my gear." It seems Raph had more experience breaking into Casey's house than she did, knowing how to climb onto the ledge and unlock the window so they could slip inside. Casey's room hadn't changed one bit, if you don't count the smell being fifty times worse. Given that it was 1 am, Arnold was fast asleep on the couch, and poor Angel was in the room right next to Casey's, no doubt breathing in that godawful smell and wondering when her brother would come back. 
Casey opened the door to the living room, sneaking quietly past Arnold and into Angel's room. He closed the door behind her, softly speed walking over to her little sister's bed. "Angel?" He ran a gloved hand through her hair and watched as the young girl opened her eyes. She seemed scared, and Casey realized it was because of the mask. "It's me, Ange, it's me!" He flipped the mask up to show off his real face for the first time in months. No paint, no skulls, no nothing, just Casey Jones. 
"CA'EY!" Angel whisper-screamed, getting up and jumping into her brother's arms for a hug. 
"Shhh! Gotta be quiet, lil sis! Don't want Dad to hear me, kay?" The girl nodded, a huge grin still stuck on her face. 
"I miss you, Ca'ey! Miss you lot!" 
"Me too, Angel, me too." He started to cry, Angel's grin dropping as she heard her sister start to sob. 
"Why you cryin', Ca'ey? Don' be sad!" 
"I'm not sad, I'm happy! I'm cryin' cause I love you, kiddo. I'm so sorry I left you here, I didn't want to, I didn't mean to, you don't deserve this!" 
They stayed like that for another few minutes, hugging while Casey cried, before Angel asked, "Where you go, big bro? Can I come too?" 
Casey shook his head. "No way. Casey had to go somewhere far away to keep you safe, and I gotta go back again until I'm done with my job." 
"Wha' job, Ca'ey?" 
"Somebody hurt me really bad and so I'm gonna hurt them really bad too. Remember how I taught you that? If somebody hurts you-" 
"You hurt ‘em too!" 
"Exactly! That's exactly right, baby sis!" 
Angel giggled, smiling up at her big sister. "When you gonna come back?" 
"Soon, Angie, soon. I promise. I'll be back as soon as I can be and then I'll never leave again! I pinky swear!" 
"You pinky swear?"
"Always." They locked pinkies and bumped foreheads, making Casey's promise something he could no longer break, not that she ever intended to break it. 
"Ca'ey? Where's Mista Turtle?" Casey's breath hitched and he quickly looked behind him to see Raph standing there, silently staring at him and nodding. 
"He's... he's back at my safe place, he's doin' alright. Want me to say hi to him for ya?" 
"Yeah! Mista Turtle gonna come back too, Ca'ey?" 
"Of course he is! We're both gonna come back as soon as we can!" He hated lying to Angel about that, but it was the best he could do for now. He couldn't bear to ever tell her the truth, it was too much. 
"He told me to tell you that he loves you VERY much and that he misses your stupid tea parties." 
"They're not stupid!" 
"Hey, tell that to him, not me! I love 'em!" 
"Yay! And I love YOU Ca'ey!" 
"Me too, lil sis." He paused. "Hey, Angel? You gotta promise me something now, alright?" 
"What is it, Ca'ey?" She bounced up and down on her bed with excitement. 
"If you see me on the TV, or hear about me from the bad people in blue, you CAN NOT tell them anything about me, okay baby sis?" 
Angel nodded seriously. "Ca'ey in trouble?" 
"Big BIG trouble." 
"Uh oh! I keep Ca'ey safe from evil people! I help you, big bro!" 
Casey smiled, a fresh wave of tears dripping down his face. "Thank you SO much, Angel, I love you, okay baby?" 
"I love you too Ca'ey! So SO SO SO MUCH!" 
"You go back to sleep now, okay?" 
"Okay... Are you gonna sleep too, Ca'ey?"
"In a little bit, yeah. I gotta do a few things first, but then I'm gonna go back and get some sleep with Mr. Turtle!" 
"Yay! Casey look sleepy, Casey need sleep!" 
"I will, Ange, I will. Can you go back to sleep okay or you need me here for a bit?" 
"Can Ca'ey stay?" 
"Of course. I'll always stay for you, Angel Jones." He sat down next to the bed as Angel tucked herself into the covers. 
"Love you, Ca'ey..." 
"Love you too, Angel." It took Angel about three minutes to fall asleep with Casey rubbing her back. The vigilante stood up, slipped his mask back on, and walked back into his own room, Raph following quickly behind her. 
"Ya gonna get some sleep now, Case?" 
"No. Gotta do a few more things." 
"You heard Angel-" 
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." 
He grabbed a giant plastic bag from the corner of the room and started cleaning everything out. All the rotting food was thrown out the window, the clothes and weapons stuffed into a bag, posters yanked off the walls and shoved in as well. By the time the bag was full, the room looked like it had barely been occupied. 
"Let's go, Raphie. We got what we came for." 
"Whatever you say, Case." 
The duo made their separate jumps out the window and fled into the night. Now all they needed was just to get the rest of the supplies for the murder. Ah, Walmart. 
The place where you can go at 2 am and nobody, nobody, notices you, no matter how out of the ordinary you look. At least, the security doesn't notice. If Casey got a few odd looks from some equally creepy old ladies, she sure didn't give a flying fuck about it. 
As she picked out the biggest package of Sour Patch Kids he could find and put it in her basket, he noticed a little girl staring at him from behind her father's leg at the other end of the aisle. 
He wondered why the hell a little girl was in Walmart at 2 am, but once again, it was none of his business. He smiled and gave her a little wave, watching her gasp and wave back. 
"Casey, you don't need that." 
"Bite me, Raphie." He muttered under her breath. He walked past the little girl and gave her a wink from under the mask, smiling as she heard her talking to her very disinterested father. 
"Daddy! Daddy! The boy with the cool mask waved at me!"
 "Uh huh. Whatever you say, sweetie." 
Casey loved being herself. As she suspected, even with her blood covered clothes and dirtied skull mask, the dead eyed cashier didn't even seem to notice him. He'd just bought all the supplies for a molotov cocktail, homemade grenades, war paint, and some candy just for funsies and nobody cared!
Raph was right, stocking up on things before his next hit was totally paying off! Raph had been muttering to himself the whole time, Casey tuning him out as best she could. His negative attitude was totally burning a hole in his bad girl persona! 
He forked over some of the money she stole from the Foot goons to the cashier, who gave him a dead-eyed stare and accepted the bills. Casey doubted she would have spared a second glance if Raph, in all his ghostiness, had been visible to others, not only a mutant turtle, but also a semi-transparent ghost. Then again, the lady did work in customer service at Walmart in New York, she figured not much would surprise this lady. 
“Have a nice day– NIGHT! I meant night,” the cashier said, automatically course-correcting, eyes widening briefly as she blinked from the daze that must come with working such a long shift. 
“You too,” Casey said as she accepted some bags and exited. A soft ‘whoosh’ of air hit his face as she stepped out of the sliding glass doors with as much vindication as one could when one stepped over a door threshold. Idly, he realized he should probably get her hands on a car. Or at least figure out some mode of transportation other than his own gear. 
Shifting the bags into one hand as she walked into an alley, with Raph bobbing around her head, Casey fired his grappling hook. 
It caught in a more stable part of the ladder, in contrast to the part of the ladder close to the ground, which was mangled and bent all out of shape.
Casey kept to the edge, so that he ascended in a vertical climb to her stomping grounds. She had to fire her grappling hook twice, the second time impaling deep the ceiling of the small room he and Raph resided in, only ascending again after three light tugs confirmed that the brick wasn’t about to cave, and send Casey to an early grave. 
Any time before Oroku Saki’s grave was far too soon, she decided, spreading his newly bought wares on the floor. Investing in an actual table (or at least not a floor that was both freezing and almost definitely infested with any number of roaches and other bugs to make Raph die twice) wouldn’t be a bad idea either. 
She dumped the bags down on the ground, grabbing the bag he'd taken from his home and setting it down next to the first one and sitting down on the ground next to the coffee table. 
"C’mon Raphie! Don't be a stranger!" The turtle was hanging out towards the window, away from the short excuse for a table, slightly pissed that Casey had lied to Angel's face about getting a good night sleep. 
He begrudgingly walked over, not wanting to deny his lover, almost there when his foot fell through the floor. He thought he'd fixed this already! The angry terrapin could hear Casey's cackle as he pulled his foot from the floor, a growl leaving his throat. 
"Oh shut up." Casey stopped laughing for once, her face morphing into one of concern. 
"You okay, Raph?" Uh oh. Not Raphie, just Raph. That meant he was serious, and serious Casey Jones could sometimes be a scarier creature than the angry, insane, or even pissed sides of Casey Jones. 
"I'm fine, Case." 
"Raph. I know you're lyin', knucklehead. What's going on?" 
"Why'd you lie to Angel about sleeping?" 
"I didn't!" 
"Yeah, ya' clearly did!" 
"No way, man! As soon as I kill a cop, I'm coming back here and we can sleep on the ice box together! The two of us! It's really comfy once ya get adjusted to it!" Raph shook his head. 
At least Casey was serious about going to bed, that was a start. She still had a long way to go in terms of mental health, and if he was finally trying to get better, Raph wasn’t about to say no, even if it was sleeping on that godforsaken freezer box that his own fucking corpse was being kept in. 
"Alright. I'll sleep on the fuckin’ death box." Casey glared. 
"Don't call it that, asshole!" 
"Hey, my body box, my choice." Casey looked confused for a moment before shrugging. 
"I don't think the saying goes like that, but whatever, dude." Her face softened. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Raphie. I didn't mean it, I promise."
"It's alright, Casey, I get it. You like it cause it's me in there, and you have your own way of coping. I should respect that. I DO respect it." 
"Thanks. That um... means a lot, babe." Raph could see a hint of an actual, genuinely sweet Casey Jones smile, taking the moment to sit down next to him, cup her cheeks, and kiss him softly what would be her lips under the mask. Casey gasped before pressing her lips to the inside of the mask. 
God, did he miss kissing Raph the normal way, pinning him against a wall, making out slowly until both of them were left breathless. She was pulled out of her thoughts as Raph broke the kiss, setting a pair of pants haphazardly on her lap. "Here." He pulled out a Sharpie too, and the older boy was impressed at how well he could hold it. 
"Woah! You weren't kidding when you said you could hold shit, babe! Holy macaroni, you're good!" 
They shared a laugh, Casey getting to work on redecorating the old pair of ratty gray jeans. Recreating his clothing took about an hour and a half, two Sharpies, a pair of scissors, half a braincell shared between them both, and an old burner phone playing Casey's "Battle Songs for Fucking Up Bitches" playlist. 
Putting on the newly acquired corpse paint took them another hour, Casey insisting on putting the white paint on herself first before Raph saw his face. By the end of it, his entire face, ears, neck, and forearms were covered in elaborate designs Raph took his sweet time making and touching up. Casey put on the first pair of redesigned jeans, slipping on a black long sleeved shirt before adding his Insane Clown Posse "Hatchetman" shirt on top of that. 
Her gear followed, then Raph with the bandana, and finally, the turtle lowered the skull mask over his love's face, finally readying her for the best part of the night. 
"You look beautiful, Casey Jones." 
"Thanks, Raphael Tomato." 
"Hamato." 
"Tomato, Hamato!" They let out a giggle before Casey started towards the door, taking the regular way out the building for once. It was time to go out and take down one of the worst threats to society. 
It wasn't hard for her to find a cop car just sitting around on some random street far enough away from the hideout that he wouldn't be chased back. Casey smirked to himself seeing the guy eating a donut through the side window. She pulled out his spray can, shaking it, letting the black paint attach itself to the wall, starting her latest masterpiece. That ugly bastard in his car didn't like that at ALL. 
He made the show of flashing his lights before hurriedly getting out of his car, cuffs in hand. 
"Hey kid! Drop the can and put your hands in the air! You're under arrest for vandalizing private property!" 
Casey continued to spray the paint, humming some random tune as he went. 
"Hey! Kid! Can you hear me? Kid!" 
"Oh, I heard you alright. I just don't listen to people as low in this world as you." He laughed. "I don't listen to assholes as evil as you." 
"Kid, the only one doing evil is you." He walked over to Casey and grabbed him by his freshly painted arm, causing Casey to flinch and whip around, hitting the cop dead in the face with the spray can. 
"Fuck off, grease-hands! My boyfriend just worked for two hours on that shit and I ain't lettin' a no good pig ruin all his hard work!" 
The cop stumbled back, blood falling from his nose and mouth. "Alright, ya little faggot," he pulled out the gun from his holster. "No more Mr. Nice Guy." 
Casey ducked as the shots fired, pulling out her own gun and shooting the cop in the leg. Unlike him, she never missed his targets. The cop screamed, falling to the ground as Casey pulled out his hockey stick. 
"Aw! Looks like Mr. Not So Nice Guy couldn't even beat up a fag like me! So sad!" 
The hockey stick swung down once, twice, five times, ten, until the pig was officially down on the ground. Then Casey pulled out a knife, relishing the look of horror on the cop's face as she stepped on top of him, kneeling on his chest and taking off her mask.
"I'm not even gonna lie, this is gonna fuckin hurt! Well, this is what you get for trying to arrest a lady just for makin' his art!" The cop looked mildly confused, but that was replaced by a wave of horror as the knife pressed against his skin. 
Casey gave him a false sense of security for two seconds before lifting it up and slashing his throat with one solid motion. 
"Go to hell, fag-" The cop choked out, his eyes wide as Casey watched the life slowly leave him. 
"How's it feel be killed by a fag? Cause it sounds pretty good to me!" As his head finally met the street, Casey could hear cheering from above him, seeing Raph on the rooftop and waving. 
"Look, Raphie! I did it!" He sounded like a kindergartener showing off their latest art project to their mom. 
"I know! I'm so proud of you, babe! Now hurry up with that paint, will ya?" 
Casey didn't waste another second, spreading the dead man's blood all over his gloved fingers and using it as a paint of its own. She alternated between spray can and blood, finishing up in a few minutes before going back to the cop and wiping the smeared corpse paint off his right hand. Raph smiled from above, so glad Casey remembered his rule about leaving no trace. 
Before she left, Casey went over to the car, opening it with his not bloody hand, and grabbed the half eaten donut from on top of the middle console. She climbed up the ladder to where Raph was waiting, gazing down upon her finished masterpiece. 
"It's perfect!" 
"Is that really one you're going with?" 
"Yeah, why?" 
"Alright, I just didn't know you were gonna do it." 
"But you like it?" 
“Of course I like it, Case, I love it! Let's get outta here." They spend the whole way home singing and laughing, Casey reminding himself to wash the blood off her glove so that no one could trace that lowlife's murder back to him. Oh, it really was a good night after all. 
Turtles POV 
The news was the only thing played on the TV anymore, much to Mikey's dismay, but Donnie controlled the living room now, so the TV was technically in his domain. 
The team was all piled up on the benches, sitting down to watch the 10 o'clock news like it was the newest superhero movie, popcorn, pizza, and all. 
"This is Channel 5 news, I'm Theresa Merdir. Breaking news, cop murdered on 5th and Walnut, killer leaves behind a disturbing message to all. Warning, this story contains images of gore and violence. Viewer discretion is advised." 
The group all looked at each other with worried expressions, save for Mikey who was focused solely on the TV. He gasped as the images were shown, many of the dead cop's wounds, but then they flipped to another chilling sight. Written on the cop's face in his own blood was: ‘Look up’, and the camera did exactly that, showing Casey's boldest artwork yet. April let out a gasp of her own. "Oh my god, Donnie, is that-'' 
Donnie looked equally horrified, he could only nod and whisper "It is." 
In a combination of cop's blood and spray paint was Casey's signature hockey mask next to tall, bold graffiti letters that read one single bone chilling word: "Skullshot."
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blank-ace · 4 years
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Hhhhhh new header
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trashytummiez · 4 years
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Beef and Belly Rubs
I came up with this idea after seeing some old Haikyū!! drawings @dumdumdrawstumtums did of Bokuto and Akaashi.  I love his art a whole lot and wanted to make something with these two for a while.  <3
“Akaashiiiiiiii, I’m starvin’ heeeeeeere!” Bokuto whined and rubbed his stomach hungrily through his grey, sleeveless sports top.  He had on sweatpants and no socks as he typically did whenever he was home and relaxing.
“Delivery will be here any minute, stop whining,” Akaashi said to his exuberant boyfriend while sitting on their couch.  But the latter kept whining when all of the sudden, his stomach grumbled loud enough that even Akashi went slightly wide-eyed.  “When’s the last time you ate?”
Bokuto tilted his head and looked up in thought.  “Uhmm, like two hours ago?”
“Could you not think with your stomach for six seconds?”
“Sure!”  Bokuto exclaimed and paused, as if he was listening intently.  “...Hmmmh, my brain says I’m hungry too!”
Akaashi merely pinched his brow and huffed through his nostrils.  
Still, for the grief he gave Bokuto, Akaashi had to admit, he was pretty hungry too; evident when his own stomach rumbled enough to make him blush.  He gently rested a hand against his T-Shirt clad stomach and rubbed it softly.   
But mercifully, the delivery guy came before Akaashi could have any more choice words for his gluttonous boyfriend or before his own stomach could embarrass him.  Between Bokuto’s ravenous hunger and his own gnawing hunger pangs, he made it a point to order a considerable, extra amount of BBQ beef and steamed rice.  It was Bokuto’s favorite dish and Akaashi had to admit, he was partial to it himself. 
The spiky-haired boys mouth was practically drooling at the smell of the food.  Akaashi set everything down on the floor where the two always sat to eat.  Bokuto didn’t waste a second.  He opened his takeout box and immediately dug in before Akaashi could even grab his own box.  All Akaashi could do was watch his gluttonous boyfriend become a human trash compactor for food.  It was like he was literally inhaling his meal of beef and rice with his chopsticks shoveling everything in his gaping mouth like one would shovel snow.
Akaashi didn’t think anyone loved food as much as Bokuto.
Still, fair’s fair.  The beef was really good, especially when paired up with rice so fluffy and steamy.  
Akaashi at his own pace while Bokuto ate like a cartoon on fast forward.  He finished his first takeout box in record time and was already downing the contents of his second box.  How the boy managed to eat so much all the time yet stay so fit, Akaashi chalked up to a great metabolism and their constant athleticism.  Professional Volleyball in Japan was one of the most demanding sports one could ever play after all.
The meal went on with Akaashi moving onto his second box.  In truth, he didn’t tend to eat this much, but he skipped lunch today and was really hungry.  Bokuto, on the other hand, was already three boxes in and onto his fourth.  How anyone could eat so much was a mystery to the raven-haired Akaashi, but it didn’t matter.  Not when the end result caused Bokuto’s normally lean stomach to bulge out like that.  His sleeveless sports shirt was naturally puffy as they tended to be, but even that wasn’t enough to mask the bump in his midsection that was growing tighter against his shirt with every mouthful swallowed down.
Akaashi had no clue why seeing his boyfriend eat so much always seemed to make him a little hot under the collar.  But whatever the reason, the composed of the two volleyball players had accepted that he liked what he liked.  Though, as their meal went on, Akaashi himself was starting to feel heavier than usual.  He grimaced with discomfort and rested a hand against his own stomach and, much to his surprise, it was very noticeably pushing out; felt tight to the touch too.  Akaashi blushed, not realizing he was eating so much.  But he figured he was almost done, so he might as well finish what he had left.
The meal was eventually finished and the two athletes sat on the floor surrounded by empty takeout boxes and nursing their overstuffed bellies.  Bokuto pronounced the completion of his gorging the way he always did; he slumped back and let out a huge burp.  Akaashi rolled his eyes at Bokuto’s crudeness but blushed a little, both at the gross but impressive display, and especially the end result of Bokuto’s gorging.  Bokuto had eaten so much that his stomach was partially exposed from under his shirt; it had bloated out by nearly two feet.
“Ahhh, man, I’m stuffed!”  Bokuto exclaimed contently, patting his belly.
“Ungh, for once, you’re not the only one,” Akaashi complained, rubbing his own achingly full stomach softly.  His t-shirt barely contained his middle, which pressed out by over a foot more than it usually did.  Whereas Bokuto was sporting a sizable potbelly, Akaashi’s stomach looked like it had a prominent food baby; appearing very tight to the touch.
Akaashi blushed some more when he realized how bloated he was.  He could eat when he was hungry, but he tried his best to make a point of not eating so much if he could help it.  The only solace he took was the fact that, for as much as he ate, Bokuto still ate way more.  A point Bokuto was more than happy to emphasize with another big, lengthy belch.  He sighed when it ended and smacked his lips with a grin.  “Not too shabby, amirite?”
Akashi simply glanced back at his boyfriend and was about to call him a pig.  Instead, a burp of his own rolled out of his mouth the second he opened it.  A loud one too.  Akaashi’s eyes bugged out and he immediately covered his mouth while blushing immensely.
Bokuto blinked, then laughed heartily.  “Gyahahahahaha!!!!  Dude, that was epic!”  Bokuto exclaimed, slugging his mild-mannered boyfriend in the arm.
Akaashi glared but it did nothing to quell his blush.  “...That wasn’t epic,” Akaashi said with embarrassment.  He would’ve said more, but he had to keep his mouth shut with a fist pressed against his lips as another burp tried to work its way up Akaashi’s throat.  This time, he was able to hold it back, but it still rumbled in his mouth and made his cheeks puff up.
Bokuto saw Akaashi’s embarrassment; saw his cheeks redden even more, then decided to cut him a break with a sly grin.  “Hmmm, y’know what?  You’re right, that wasn’t epic at all.  This is epic...”
Akaashi watched Bokuto swallow some air; saw his throat bob and heard it gurgle a little with his throat muscles hard at work getting that air down.  Then, once Bokuto had enough air in his gut, he thumped his chest and let loose a resounding belch that dwarfed Akaashi’s in volume, length and rumble.  It rolled out of him with such force that Akaashi almost felt like the ground itself shook, but that was probably because he was sitting right besides the burping boy.  
Bokuto sighed loudly with relief and gave his belly a resounding pat.  “Whew!  Now that was a good one!”
“You’re an idiot,” Akaashi replied, but he said it with a grateful smile, which Bokuto met with his joyous grin.  
“You know ya love it,” Bokuto teased.
“Doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot,” Akaashi responded, neither confirming nor denying Bokuto’s claim.
Though, that confirmation was made when the black-haired boy scooted over next to Bokuto and slid his hand underneath Bokuto’s shirt in order to rub Bokuto’s bulging belly.
Bokuto hummed and leaned back with his hands pressed up against the floor for support which made his stomach stick out more for Akaashi to rub.  His hand ran up and down the bulging flesh, kneading into it while Akaashi stroked gently.  Akaashi could hear Bokuto’s belly burbling deeply in tandem with his delicate touch.  It was as if Bokuto’s belly itself was genuinely gurgling with pleasure at the treatment Akaashi was providing.
“Ohhhh man, that feels good,” Bokuto moaned out loud.
Akaashi knew what he was doing.  He ran his palm in circular fashion all across Bokuto’s middle, digging his fingertips into the rounded top of Bokuto’s gut and making him moan a little louder.  Then his hand drifted to Bokuto’s lower belly, which required Akaashi to tug his sweatpants down to expose more of that burgeoning stomach.  There, Akaashi felt up Bokuto’s belly, stroking its underside from side to side.  
Bokuto’s stomach churned deeply, which made Bokuto squirm a little uncomfortably.  He sat up and tightened his face a little.  Then, he grabbed his stomach with one hand and let loose a rumbling belch that rolled out of his for a few seconds.  “Ungh, man, I’m feelin’ gassy today...”
When Bokuto said that, a thought occurred to Akaashi.  Experimentally, he moved his hand to the center of Bokuto’s bulging belly, and pushed his palm deeply into it.  Bokuto lurched but then threw his head back and burped again; a thundering, rumbling belch.  Akaashi could actually feel the gas circulating up from Bokuto’s belly since his hand was pushing right up against that bloated stomach.  He couldn’t help but blush again.
Bokuto gasped loudly and grinned a relieved but satisfied grin.  “Gaaaah, dude, that felt good...!  Thanks, man!”
Akaashi simply bowed his head and patted Bokuto’s belly then went back to rubbing away.
But as Akaashi rubbed, he froze in place when out of nowhere, Bokuto’s own hand slid underneath Akaashi’s t-shirt and started to rub his own belly.  “...W-What are you doing...?”  Akaashi asked, feeling flustered.
“Well, you’re always givin’ my belly some love, it’s only fair I repay the favor, right?”  Bokuto explained, pulling Akaashi’s shirt up and exposing his bare stomach.  He squirmed even more when Bokuto unbuttoned Akaashi’s jeans and pulled his zipper down to give his own bloated stomach some room to grow.  
“...Th-That’s not-”
Akaashi couldn’t finish his sentence.  The second Bokuto’s hand started rubbing circles against the center of Akaashi’s bloated stomach, the black-haired boy moaned with pleasure.  It felt so shockingly good that he was almost stunned.
“...So that’s what that feels like...” Akaashi mused, settling down on the floor and relaxing, even while still stroking Bokuto’s much larger belly.
Bokuto snickered.  “Yep!  Sure is!”
Both athletes sat together, both gingerly stroking each others bellies and humming with delight.  The belly rubs made Akaashi more relaxed than Bokuto had ever seen him.  It brightened Bokuto’s day to see his boyfriend enjoying the treatment so much, so he kept at it.  
His hand gently stroked up Akaashi’s belly, reaching his lean chest, and down to his underbelly.  When he stroked up again, Bokuto kneaded around Akaashi’s belly button, which got quite a reaction from Akaashi himself.  His cheeks darkened and he bit his lower lip at the feeling, which Bokuto took as a sign to keep going, even if Akaashi’s own rubbing halted in that moment.  Bokuto continued kneading around Akaashi’s navel and got a pleased moan from the boy.
But that turned into a groan when Akaashi’s belly churned loudly again.  He turned his head and muffled another burp, blushing afterwards and excusing himself.
Bokuto snickered.  “Y’know, your stomach’ll feel a lot better if ya just let it out, dude.  It’s just us.  Ya don’t hafta be so polite.”
“I’m not just polite if people are around me or not,” Akaashi corrected.
“Whatever, man.  Ya wanna feel better, don’tcha?”
Akaashi glared back at Bokuto, but when a sour, sickly gurgle bellowed from his belly and made him recoil, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking for some relief.  So, when his gurgling gut gave him more grief and he felt some pressure coming up, against his better judgement, Akaashi turned his head, held a hand over his mouth and burped.  It was pretty deep and brought a sliver of relief, even if Akaashi felt embarrassed to let it out like that.
Bokuto grinned.  “Nice, but I think you can do better.”
And to prove his point, Bokuto grabbed Akaashi’s belly and pressed it down.  
There was a hefty rumble that erupted from Akaashi’s stomach in response.  He lurched again and was unable to hold back the huge burp that erupted from his throat.  It was loud enough that it could’ve almost been mistaken for one of Bokuto’s and actually lasted a few seconds too.
Akaashi would’ve been embarrassed if letting out such a big one didn’t feel so good.
He slumped back and moaned loudly.  “Ahhh, wow, that’s...that’s a lot better...”
Bokuto grinned.  “You’re welcome!  Heh, hey, why don’t we grab some sodas’n get a burping contest going?  Ya always say no whenever I challenge you, but now, ya seem to be gettin’ in the spirit of things.”
Akaashi just glared back at his boyfriend.  But in spite of himself, that adorably happy grin of his was impossible not to smile at.  “...I’ll go get the sodas,” he conceded.  But before he did, Akaashi leaned forward and planted his lips against Bokuto’s by surprise.  Now it was Bokuto’s turn to blush.
“What was...umm...what was that for?”  Bokuto asked timidly.
“For being the big idiot I know and love for some reason,” Akaashi exclaimed and pushed himself up to head over to the kitchen.
Bokuto, who was still blushing, nonetheless smiled.  “And I’m more than happy to be your idiot...”
110 notes · View notes
thetriggeredhappy · 5 years
Note
angst&hurt/comfort, where scout is anxious and doubts his skills, so he tries to calm himself by holding/hugging/whatever his plushie (or something else, idk), whilst someone is trying to get to him, to make him confess what is bothering him? idk if you wanna make it a ship ir maybe dad spy, ily -🦂
oh dude you already KNOW dad!spy hours are 24/7 up in here. welcome to “projecting RSD onto Scout TF2 episode 85″
-
Stupid summer, stupid break, stupid losing streak. Stupid everything.
Usually Scout was excited about breaks. A week or so of getting to be off work, heading home to visit family or going on a road trip or whatever was happening. It was nice, he loved it. But this time they had explicit orders from their boss not to go anywhere or do anything. To stay on base or to go specifically exclusively to the store in the nearest town for food or whatever. He hated it. The base was too small to hang out in for more than a few days at a time. He hated it.
And not to mention that they’d finished off work on a bad note. A day of losses turning into a week of losses, half the team scrambling to try and pull together enough to get one last good push in before the break and the other half deciding to just accept the loss and do better once they got back.
And every day after battle Soldier would single out someone who wasn’t on top of their game and lecture them. And all week, instead of going for the people who were largely slacking off and not breaking their necks to try and get them some actual wins, he went after Scout, who was so frantic that he kept making stupid mistakes.
And he just... usually he argued about it, and got in a fight with Soldier, but he just... didn’t have the energy for it. The day was over. They’d lost. And Scout knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but it kind of felt like it. Maybe if he’d tried just a little bit harder, pushed himself just a little further, he could’ve gotten the rest of the team motivated. Maybe they all would’ve picked things back up and tried too. But he couldn’t do it.
It was frustrating. He knew his job, beyond what he did on the field, was trying to keep morale up. He kept music playing, he was always up for hanging out or playing a few hands of poker or headed into town with someone to get shitty fast food. And he tried really hard to be funny and to keep things lighthearted, tried so fucking hard to keep spirits up. And he knew if he said anything about it, pointed out how literally like all of his time was spent trying to make sure everyone was feeling okay, it would...
He didn’t know. Maybe they’d just tell him off for being whiny or whatever. Maybe it would stop working so well, if they knew he was always doing it so extremely on purpose, so intentionally. He didn’t know.
But at that moment, he was feeling so much like utter garbage that he knew he had to just avoid the team so he didn’t drag the mood down further. Usually they didn’t really miss him anyways, other than idly asking if he’d gotten into any trouble while he was off doing “whatever he did”. All he knew was that him feeling like shit around everyone else would just make them feel bad too. And it was break anyways—maybe they’d just end up feeling better on their own. Especially since he wasn’t around to interrupt them.
He had plenty of food in his room, mostly chips and candy bars and stuff like that, stuff he didn’t want the guys stealing. And he’d totally share if they asked, for sure, but for that moment he was mostly just digging through the hoard for himself and doing not much of anything else.
He felt like kind of an idiot, sitting alone and eating his feelings like some kind of angsty teen in a movie or the chick in the romcom who just got broken up with. But there was nobody there to ridicule him except himself. And he did, but... the point stood.
A few days passed like that. He had food, he had the little bathroom connected to his room, he had comics to entertain himself. He slept a lot, mostly. Felt like garbage. Read some comics. Ate chocolate about it. Slept some more. He left a few times to do a few assorted things—called home like he did every week, went into the common room late one night to grab some of his records back so he could listen to them.
At one point, he got a knock on his door. He didn’t answer, couldn’t seem to find the energy to. A second knock when the first was unanswered after about twenty seconds. He still didn’t move.
The next day, another knock. This one was accompanied by words. “Scout? I know you’re in there,” Spy called, sounding annoyed.
To be honest, Scout was pretty sure he didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever Spy was about to lecture him about. So he just rolled over.
“You’ve missed every team meal for almost four days. You’re being rude,” Spy declared.
Scout reached off the side of the bed and picked up a plushie that had fallen down. It was a big, chunky pig, and he’d won it when he and Pyro had gone out to a fair and he’d knocked the ball toss game out of the park. Pyro had taken three of the plushies he’d won, and insisted he keep the fourth for himself.
He felt like even more of a dumb baby, sitting there cradling a stuffed animal like he was scared to head off to his first day of kindergarten, but he was already too tired and filled with vague unrest for it to get to him much.
At some point he heard a heavy sigh and the clack of fancy shoes moving away down the hallway, and Scout relaxed.
Twenty minutes later, a knock.
“Scout, let me in,” Spy said firmly.
“Fuck off, Spy,” Scout snapped.
“Scout, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to,” Spy declared.
“Bullshit.”
A heavy sigh, and then a few moments later the door swung open.
“What the fuck?” Scout asked, lifting his head to glare towards the door as Spy stepped inside.
“I know how to pick locks, Scout. You know this.” Spy squinted to try to get used to the light, the blinds having been drawn. “I’m turning a light on.”
Scout just grumbled, dropping his head back into the plush pig. In his periphery, the light was indeed turned on. There was a beat of silence.
“I brought a plate from dinner. I was concerned you would get scurvy, since you now apparently have the diet of an eight year old child who was given a hundred dollars and left unsupervised at the grocery store,” Spy said dryly.
“I don’t want your fuckin’ handouts, Spy,” Scout muttered, muffled.
“It’s not a handout, it’s the fact that I refuse to have anyone on the team besides me whose teeth are falling out. Take the food.”
“Fuck off.”
Spy sighed again, and after a moment he moved to put the plate on the bedside table. Scout prickled at the proximity, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking up.
“I noticed that while you haven’t been at dinner, you still took the time to leave a thumb tack on my chair. Usually when you do that it’s because you’re angry with me. What exactly have I done?”
“I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad,” Scout grumbled.
“You know, it’s very childish to refuse to look at someone when they are trying to talk to you.”
“Guess I’ll just keep being the dumb idiot kid of the team then, huh?” Scout snapped.
Silence for a moment. “Scout. You’ve locked yourself away in your room and refused to come out again for several days. I know that something is wrong. The team does too—they’re starting to worry.”
“That might just be the most obvious lie you’ve ever fuckin’ told me, Spy,” Scout practically spat, and was glad to have his voice muffled, because suddenly it went a little tight.
“Is it that hard to believe that perhaps your teammates care about you?” Spy asked, a little sharply.
“It’s me, in case you haven’t noticed,” Scout said next, getting his voice back under control. “People don’t hang around me on purpose. They put up with me. And then they stop putting up with me at some point.”
“That’s not true,” Spy said, tone leaving no room for argument, but Scout elbowed some argument in anyways.
“All seven of my brothers, every fuckin’ date I’ve ever been on, the standing ban sayin’ I can’t go in Engie’s workshop or in Heavy’s workspace down by the boiler or the infirmary unless I’m actually seriously injured—“ Scout listed off, ticking off on his fingers, keeping his face hidden. “My own fucking dad decided he couldn’t fucking stand me and I was two years old, Spy, what the hell does that tell you? I’m an annoying little piece of shit and that’s all I’m ever gonna be and then one of these days I’m gonna die for real out in this hellhole desert and ain’t a single damn person out here will have ever even bothered to learn the name that’s supposed to go on my gravestone.”
Dead silence in the room. Scout’s arm fell back down by his side. His voice was shaky when he spoke again.
“Nobody’s ever even asked,” he managed. “Demo’s real name is Tavish, Heavy’s real name is Mikhal but his sisters call him Misha. And plenty of you guys get asked about it all the time but you don’t wanna say. And nobody’s ever even fuckin’ asked me.”
Silence for a few more seconds.
“I’m a whole person,” Scout said next. “I’m really into sci-fi. I’ve read every mainline issue comic book ever published after ‘35. I know how to cook and draw and I know the all the stats of every person on every major league baseball team. I was in theater in high school between track and baseball season in the winters and I and got a lead role on some Shakespearicles thing before it got cancelled because of budget cuts. I bet you didn’t even know that.”
“I didn’t,” Spy admitted.
“And why would you? Who the fuck cares? It’s just dumb scrawny idiot Scout, who the fuck cares what his deal is? He can barely do his job and read any word that’s over four syllables, who cares what he does? He ain’t nothin’ today, he must never have been somethin’ in the first place.”
“Scout—“
“Tell me I’m wrong, Spy,” he snapped, voice cracking down the middle.
“You’re wrong. Scout, what’s going on?” Spy asked, and his voice sounded closer, like he’d taken a knee. “What happened?”
He understood, logically, that telling Spy damn near anything was a bad idea. He sold information for a living. But logic hadn’t ever been much help to him, and anyways, he was pretty sure he was about to break down either way, and he could either cry like a dumb little baby and Spy could go to the rest of the team and tell them about stupid Scout and his crying for no reason, or he could at least sort of maybe a little bit sound justified and a little bit less completely unhinged.
“We lost all week because I fuckin’ suck at my job, and we don’t get to go off base for some goddamn reason, and I miss my family, and I—“ God damn it, he hoped to at least get to a second sentence before he broke, but here came the waterworks. “—and I know the team doesn’t give a shit, and if they even noticed they probably think I’m being some idiot baby, and I’m just so fuckin’ tired of all of this, alright? I’m just so goddamn exhausted, all the time, and no matter what I do I can’t make my own stupid, shitty, broken-ass brain shut up, and I...”
There was a hand on his shoulder, now. For some reason that’s what unstuck the sob in his throat.
“And I just miss my mom,” he managed, and sobbed again. “And I know that just makes me a stupid fucking baby—“
“Scout, it doesn’t,” Spy said firmly.
“Bullshit.”
A sigh, less exasperated than the others. “Scout, I miss my own parents. Often. Heavy writes to his mother, the Bushman calls home once a week and stays on the phone for an hour at a time. Do you think they would do that if they didn’t miss them?”
Scout couldn’t seem to find his voice, and just sniffled a little.
“If anything, it’s good that you miss your mother. You are appreciating her now, while she’s still part of your life, rather than later on when she’s gone. That’s a good thing.”
“Here I am cryin’ over dumb shit—“
“The fact that you’re even capable of tears shows that you haven’t completely sealed yourself off from your emotions like several of our testosterone-puppet teammates. I’m fairly certain that Medic surgically removed his own tear ducts. I think Soldier is so dehydrated that he’s incapable of it. And rather than sweat he needs to cover himself in liquid-like food products or else he’ll die of heat stroke.”
Despite everything, that made Scout laugh, just a little. More of a hiccup than anything else.
“Admittedly, you have greater social needs than several of our team, and they need to take breaks. Not just from you, but from everyone. It’s part of being human, everyone requires some amount of time alone or else they start losing their minds. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t care about you—value the things you do for this team, even. Every time someone would like company when going in to town for any reason, they always ask me where you are. And you’ve given good film recommendations to everyone except for the Sniper.”
“Guy hates movies,” Scout defended weakly.
“You keep recommending horror films. As it turns out, he is a fan of romantic comedies.”
“Fuckin’ what? Seriously?”
“I was shocked too. His complete lack of taste in all areas of his life continues to amaze me.”
Scout scoffed at that. A beat of silence.
“What I am saying is that the team doesn’t simply put up with you. You’re impossible to simply put up with, you take up too big a part of everyone’s life here. Instead, they must like and respect you.” A pause. “And your father must have truly been an idiot. Anyone with two eyes would be proud of the challenges you’ve faced and overcome with all of the disadvantages you’ve been dealt over your lifetime.”
Scout sniffled, wiped his eyes with his forearm, finally managed to look up at Spy. “Anyone with two eyes? You sayin’ you’re proud of me, then?” he asked, even if it was a little shaky.
“I feel no strong emotions,” Spy deadpanned.
“Alright, nevermind about earlier. That’s the most obvious lie you’ve ever told me.”
Spy rolled his eyes, standing, brushing off the knee of his suit.
Scout looked at the plate, made a face. “Aw man, what the fuck, is that asparagus? Is Medic back on trying to make us eat healthy again?”
“The Engineer cooked it, stop complaining and just eat it,” Spy said, quickly falling back into his role of naggy just on the near side of patronizing.
“C’mon, it couldn’t have been like, mashed potatoes or broccoli or somethin’?”
“You always douse those things in salt and butter. That combined with the energy drinks means you’re going to get a heart condition before I do.”
“Just get the fuck outta my room, Spy,” Scout huffed, putting the stuffed animal aside and moving to pick up the plate and utensils.
“Very well. And go talk to Demoman at some point, he’s been whining about nobody wanting to go get fast food with him for two days,” Spy said as he walked to the door. “And you can’t borrow my car to go.”
“Fuck you, Spy,” Scout said flippantly, waving him off.
“Fuck you too,” Spy said just as casually, and made sure to close the door behind him.
153 notes · View notes
kangtaebins · 3 years
Text
Weird Asks That Say A Lot
I said I was going to just answer all of these bc of boredom,, and so here I am
1. Coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups are aesthetically pleasing idc what anyone says
2. Chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops
3. Bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy supremacy
4. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? I was told that I was a leader a lot, and was told that I was very intelligent. Ah yes, I suffered from gifted kid burn out in high school-
5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Look, plastic cups are the best. Specifically the ones with the lids and reusable straws
6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? It truly depends on the day bc some days I would say goth and other days I’d say grunge, but most days- pastel
7. Earbuds or headphones? Earbuds
8. Movies or TV shows? TV shows bc- idk actually I’m just not a movie person
9. Favorite smell in the summer? I have a weird obsession with the smell of cheap sunscreen and I have no clue why
10. Game you were best at in p.e.? I hated gym in high school and rarely participated despite the teacher being irritated with me (truly she gave up after a few months bc I really did not care at all) HOWEVER- I went to town in volleyball and still enjoy playing volleyball v much
11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day? I don’t eat breakfast often,,, 
12. Name of your favorite playlist? Probably my Navy or Indigo playlist
13. Lanyard or key ring? Key ring 
14. Favorite non-chocolate candy? Anything green apple!!!
15. Favorite book you read as a school assignment? I actually genuinely enjoyed Romeo And Juliet tbh
16. Most comfortable position to sit in? I always curl up in a ball on the couch, but in a chair I manspread ngl
17. Most frequently worn pair of shoes? Nike slides <//3
18. Ideal weather? Between 50-70 degrees, sunny but not warm, being able to wear a hoodie and not be hot or cold
19. Sleeping position? I usually either sleep on my left side or on my stomach (my back once in a while when it’s hurting bc I’m a hag)
20. Preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? I write on my phone more than anything
21. Obsession from childhood? Hm- I was really obsessed with High School Musical as a kid. My friend and I would put it on and lip sync to the songs and pretend we were the characters
22. Role model? Is it- wrong to say myself? Bc I feel like that sounds arrogant but genuinely it’s bc I’m constantly trying to better myself mentally and learn and grow. Idk I just am proud of who I am and look to myself when I need to find motivation
23. Strange habits? Strange? Idk if it’s strange but I’m constantly twiddling with the hem of my sleeves bc I love the feeling of it
24. Favorite crystal? Citrine 
25. First song you remember hearing? WH- bitch idk tf
26. Favorite activity to do in warm weather? Stay tf inside in the air conditioning
27. Favorite activity to do in cold weather? Stay tf inside in the heat
28. Five songs to describe you? To describe me?? Girl idk I'm all over the place. How about songs that resonate with me instead,,, Alive by Khalid, Paranoid by Lauv, Phobia by Dvwn, Fake Smile by Ariana Grande, and Breathin by Ariana Grande
29. Best way to bond with you? Truly I'm not very difficult to get along with, just don't be an asshole. Talk to me about psychology, current events, say Soobin is the cutest to exist idk it's not that hard
30. Places that you find sacred? I- hm. I'm not like a church person or anything so idk. Maybe just anything really old or places with very detailed and unique architecture
31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I don't own many clothes,,, let alone nice clothes. I also don't really dress to impress I'd much rather be comfortable
32. Top five favorite vines? Oh god if I h a d to pick???? The lipstick in the Valentino bag, they were roommates, it's an avocado- thaaanks, jared 19, and uh,,, zach stooppp you're gonna get in trouble
33. Most used phrase in your phone? Tbh it's probably "girl what-" or "no bc"
34. Advertisements you have stuck in your head? That 877-CASH-NOW ONE JFC
35. Average time you fall asleep? Between 11pm-1am
36. What is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably the troll face one or smth
37. Suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase
38. Lemonade or tea? I mix them together!
39. Lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon meringue pie bc I don't really like cake
40. Weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Y'all I- went to a hs/college mixed school,, I've seen it all. Weirdest?? Idk but one weird thing I remember was when we were making whistles in art and some dude made a penis whistle 😭
41. Last person you texted? My best friend :))
42. Jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets
43. Hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie 100%
44. Favorite scent for soap? I love soaps that smell like soap. Like ok duh I know that sounds dumb but yk what I mean? I don't want lemon or mint or whatever, I like the plain soap smell
45. Which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy
46. Most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Oversized t-shirt, no pants. I question anyone that is comfortable sleeping with pants on-
47. Favorite type of cheese? Feta!
48. If you were a fruit, what kind would you be? I feel like I'd be a pineapple and I have no clue why
49. What saying or quote do you live by? Not necessarily a quote but more of a thought: live for yourself, enjoy each day, do what gives you joy
50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have? I have had so many instances in which I have laughed so hard I peed and to even attempt to name one is impossible
51. Current stresses? Making sure my family gets their vaccines and stays safe
52. Favorite font? I don't think I have one? Anything except comic sans
53. What is the current state of your hands? What does this even mean 💀 I mean,, they're holding my phone, cold, and my nails are unpolished
54. What did you learn from your first job? That people are assholes but I'm capable of not giving a fuck bc life is not that damn serious
55. Favorite fairy tale? Is The Three Little Pigs considered a fairy tale?
56. Favorite tradition? Putting up the Christmas tree with my mom :( it's always a lot of fun
57. The three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Depression, grief, and hopefully one day- smth I'm currently dealing with
58. Four talents you’re proud of having? Makeup!! But also: singing, crying on command, and tying cherry stems with my tongue
59. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Sick of these bitches
60. If you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? I don't watch anime so idk
61. Favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? It's this line from Eleanor & Park: "Eleanor was right: She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."
62. Seven characters you relate to? Holy hell, 7?? Probably won't get that many but hm,,, Darlene from Roseanne, Hermione from Harry Potter, Emily from Pretty Little Liars maybe?? Idk I suddenly blanked
63. Five songs that would play in your club? As if it's Your Last by BP, anything from SHINee, anything from Ariana, also anything Rihanna, just a bunch of women tbh
64. Favorite website from your childhood? FUCKING WEBKINZ BRO
65. Any permanent scars? I have a few on my arms idk where they came from tbh, I also have one on my hand from my sister 🧍🏻‍♀
66. Favorite flower(s)? Sunflowers!!! I also really love lilacs 💔
67. Good luck charms? My dog's collar that I wear as a bracelet
68. Worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Licorice-
69. A fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? It takes repeating a piece of information 12 times at random to memorize it completely
70. Left or right handed? Right
71. Least favorite pattern? Fucking chevron- and realistic camo, and anything with the American flag
72. Worst subject? Yall im awful at history. American history, world history, all of it-
73. Favorite weird flavor combo? Either pickles and peanut butter or cheese and grapes
74. At what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I'm stubborn but also always in pain so I've become numb to a lot of body pains. I have to be at like a 7-8 before I take smth otherwise I'd always be taking it
75. When did you lose your first tooth? I was probably like 5 I was definitely in Kindergarten
76. What’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I fw baked potatoes
77. Best plant to grow on a windowsill? I have a love for succulents
78. Coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Oh my- I don't drink coffee but coffee from a gas station
79. Which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Driver's license for sure
80. Earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones
81. Fireflies or lightning bugs? I say both,, but I think I say lightning bugs more
82. PC or console? PC
83. Writing or drawing? Both
84. Podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts definitely
84. Barbie or polly pocket? Barbie
85. Fairy tales or mythology? Fairy tales
86. Cookies or cupcakes? C o o k i e s
87. Your greatest fear? Losing people I love
88. Your greatest wish? To live comfortably and be a great mother
89. Who would you put before everyone else? My family
90. Luckiest mistake? Guessing on 90% of a test and getting an A 💀
91. Boxes or bags? Bags are easier to carry-
92. Lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Fairy lights!!
93. Nicknames? Sam, Sammi, my sister calls me Sams, my best friend calls me Bub, and my gf calls me Baby if that counts- 👀
94. Favorite season? Fall omg it's gorgeous and has perfect temperatures
95. Favorite app on your phone? ✨tumblr✨
96. Desktop background? Its literally a pic of Soobin, Taehyun, and Beomgyu
97. How many phone numbers do you have memorized? Like 4-5
98. Favorite historical era? The one where white people learn their fucking place and stop being racist, homophobic, classist, sexist, all the -ists and -phobics,,,, so none. Fuck history :))
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bakugoubabygirl · 4 years
Text
Part four Allmight daughter
•part Three here
We didn’t have school today so I don��t have to wake up early or so I thought.
   Bakagou: hey idoit where the fuck are . We have to train even harder.
     I was confused, I thought he would for sure hate me .
  Y/N:   I'm sorry, meet me at my house . We can train here again . I thought you wouldn't  want to see me after yesterday.
Bakagou: After finding out how powerful you are. Why in the fuck why I not want you on my team besides the fact that your stupid .
   I was relived to hear we were still friends . I got dressed and went down stairs . My dad was setting on the couch reading something.
     " look Bakagou is coming over. Is that okay" I asked. I realize yesterday morning I was wrong .
  " Sure, but nothing funny" he said.
    " Alright" I heard the door bell ring . My dad hurried up and left . Bakagou couldn't see  him in his civilian form.
     " Took you long enough" he bitched. I elbow him in the side .
     " You will pay for that" he growled .
____________________________________
                                   Katsuki  POV 🙄🤤
      We train for four hours . I grabbed my bag to go change.
    " Hey dumbass go get ready. you owe me lunch, remember" I shouted . She rolled her eyes and went upstairs.  
       I can't believe she would think I hate her. I'm not that dense.  She such a fucking idiot. Maybe her past, will keep icyhot away. 
       Maybe I do like her. She has away of getting under my skin. It pisses me off watching kiri trying to ask her out . 
       I was ready to go. I found my way to Y/n room . I open the door . This dumbass was half naked . Why wasn't she fucking dress yet.
     " BAKUGOU" she screamed . Is she serious?
      " I don't fucking care, you don't have anything to look at " I scoffed. Her face was still red . I lied though . She had so many curves in all the right places . Shit. I was trying not to think about it too much .
      "Sure, next time knock first . Your such an ass" She said . 
     " Whatever let's get going" I could feel my stomach growling. She wasn't paying attention , she was looking at her stupid phone.  " Get off your damn phone"
      " I had to tell my dad where I was going" she explained
       _______________________________________________________________________________________________________
                        Your POV 🌺🥰
" Where are we eating" I asked.
" I don't fucking know. Why don't you pick" he grumbled.
" Well okay I pick ( your favorite restaurant)" He gave me a scowled; when I grabbed his hand to pull him in the right direction. We walked in and picked a seat by the window. It was Quiet as we waited for the waiter.
" After this me and the rest of the team are hanging out at my house. I got to kick there ass at this new video game. I'm inviting your dumbass to, so you wont feel left out in shit" he mumble.
" Yeah, sounds fun" I replied. I wasn't really paying attention. I was going over the menu. The waiter came over and asked what we wanted
" I want ( your favorite food)" I smiled. Bakuguo ordered his food, then she took our menus. After ten minutes of waiting this boy came up to our table. He been setting across the restaurant with a group of friends.
" Look this is going to sound weird, but are you two dating" he asked nervously.
"No, he just a friend of mine why?" I laugh. I felt Bakugou eyes burning on me.
" I was wondering if I could get your number? My friend over there thinks your hot" he pointed over to one of his friends. I was about to answer until we got interrupted.
" Walk away extra, while you can" Bakugou growled . The guy listen and return back to his seat.
" There was no reason to be rude" I scoffed . He was so extra sometimes.
" He was being a fucking werido , you should thank me" he yelled. God he was causing a fucking scene. The lady finally came out with our food.
It smelt so good . I was gulping down my food. I was starving. I look up to see Bakugo giving me a odd look. " What" I asked.
        " You eat like a pig. There fucking food on your face" he grumble.
         " So it's just you, and this food is so good"
          " We're in public though"
          " I don't care what people think"
          " Whatever, here" he said . He reached over the table and wipe it off me face. Then I got aware of how close our face were. At that moment the lady came out with a bill .  We both snap out whatever the fuck that was.
          " I'll fucking pay okay" he said. Reaching into his wallet.
      " No I'll pay , you said this was on me to begin with"  I argued .
       " No,  just let me do it" he snatch the bill out of my hands . Who knew someone could be a ass hat , while trying to be a gentleman.
" So are we going over to your house now" I asked . Skipping in front of him, just to annoy him.
" Yeah, but no talking to my mom" he bellowed.
____________________________________
Katsuki POV😳😅
We arrived at my house . Spoil brat is probably making fun of me . Yeah it's not as big as hers but it's a big house.
My mom was in the kitchen making dinner. My dad was still at work . I was trying to get up the stairs before my mom notice .
" Hey fucktard you didn't tell me you were bringing a girl home" she smiled . " Hey I'm Mitsuki, this shit heads mom. Your Y/N right? I seen you on the News"
" Yeah, It's nice to meet you" Y/N laughed. I told that dumbass not to talk to her .
" Your very pretty , so what are you doing with my son" the old hag laugh. She thinks she so fucking funny.
" She just a fucking team mate," I yelled at her. " let's go Y/n" I pulled her up stairs .
" Your mom seems pleasant" she sarcastically said. She plop down on my bed and was looking around my room. Nosey bitch.
" Shut up. The others are supposed to be here any minute" She was pretty, my mom wasn't wrong . I can't be thinking like that . Being a pro hero is what I need to focus on.  She jab me in side with her finger. That little shit.
    We started wrestling, I had her pinned down on the bed. I won this time. her cheeks turn red, our faces were inches apart. Something in me was screaming to kiss her. I hurried in pushed my self off of her. Before she could ask me what was that, Kiri came busting through the door.  The others were right behind him.
   "Hey bakubro, you ready to play" he said taking a seat on the couch next to me ." Sero and Kamari took   a seat on the couch too. Mina took the last seat on the couch.
     "Hey Y/n you can set on my lap" Mina said patting her lap. Y/N laugh and sat on Mina lap. You could tell Y/n was joking but mina was serious.
  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________
                                           Your POV
      
           There was no more seats on the couch so I just sat in Mina lap. It was kind of funny.
"Hey Y/N you could set on my lap too" Kamari laugh. I put my legs on him.
" Now your both my slaves" I said. Then I turn my attention to the Tv screen.  It look like Bakugou was beating Kiri.
  " DIE DIE DIE" he scream violently.
   " Wow he usually not this Competitive, when we play games. Not this bad anywyas " Sero whispered to Kamari. Bakugou won.
“ Sero get up so Y/n can have a proper seat” he growled.
“ I’m fine setting here” I chided. Mina started to braid my hair .
“ Why are you a fucking lesbian or something” he fumed. He was so annoying . He gets so fucking angry randomly .
“ No but I know how disappointed you would be if I was” I joked
“ Calm dude” Kamari said
“ I am fucking calm . I bet your fucking enjoying her legs on you . You fucking perv” the whole room to be uncomfortable now .
“ What’s your problem Bakugou” I got up and yelled. He got under my fucking skin. I floated up and I felt a wave of darkness crash over me . A voice evaded my head.
He pisses you off so much why don’t you kill him? You could do it . If you draw up enough energy one hit could end him. Do it .
I felt myself hit the floor. Everyone was staring at me. I looked down at my hands, they were glowing black . They never done this before. I’m not even trying to use my powers.
“Y/n your eyes there weren’t purple, they were black” Mina whispered. What’s happening to me .
“ What’s wrong with you” Bakugou asked . He looked shocked as the rest. I need to get out of here.
“ I’m sorry. I don’t know” I sputtered. I grabbed a hold of the coffee table to help me get up. The coffee table turnt to a black stone and then crumble to dust. “ I’m sorry I didn’t know I could do that”
I ran out the door . I could hear Bakugou call my name but I couldn’t face him . The more I panic the more my hand seem to glow.
Izuku house was next door. I wanted to talk to him. I kick the door with me feet. Lucky he was the one who answers the door.
“Y/n what’s wrong” he open the door and invited me in. My eyes flooded with tears. I explain to him what happen.
“ I’m a monster, Izuku” I cried. He was probably going to tell me to get the fuck out of here.
“ Hey please don’t cry. Your not a monster. You just have new powers. Will figure this out” he said gently. My nerves started to calm. I took a deep breathe.
“ We should tell your dad” he said.
“ Yeah I will, I just don’t want to worry him” I sigh. My hands went back to normal. I touched the trash Can to make sure nothing happen. Then I hugged Izuku.
I pulled my phone out to text my dad . To tell him where I’m at. He had a meeting today but he should be home by now .
Y/N: hey I’m over at Izuku . No reason to worry I’ll be home soon.
Dad : I have something to do tonight I won’t be home . I’ll send someone to bring you home or Izuku can. I trust him to get you home safely.
Y/N : I think I’m going to stay over his house. If that’s fine . Can you send someone for my clothes and stuff.
Dad: yeah that’s fine . I love you kiddo
It was getting late me and Izuku been catching up . We haven’t been hanging out as much since school started. We hang out everyday through the summer.
I was getting tired so I decide to change into some pajamas. My pajamas was some shorts and a over size t shirt.
Me and Izuku agreed on sharing a bed. I sleep on one end and he sleeps on the other. We had school tomorrow so we needed to get some sleep.
Izuku been past out for awhile. I couldn’t sleep though. I am a monster. I didn’t tell him about the voice in my head . I was made to destroy, how can I call a hero. How can I call myself a sister or a friend. Most importantly how can I myself his daughter.
What if it’s gets out of control. I can’t let that happen. I have to do what all might couldn’t do years ago. I have to destroy myself. That’s the only way I could ever be a hero. Is from saving the ones I care about from myself.
I found some paper and a pen. I started writing my goodbyes. They will miss me I’m sure. It’s for there own good. I look over Izuku sleeping. My dearest Friend. He will help my father grieve.
It was cold outside, but it won’t matter long. I Walked until I reached the bridge. My tears pooled in my eyes .
I left the not on the ground to be found. I step on to the ledge “ This is my fate, I can’t run from it” I step off, instead of falling to my death. Someone grabbed my arm.
__________________________________
Thank you for reading this far. Please give me feed back on what I can do better or what you would like to see. I will be posting part Five tomorrow. I love yas ❤️
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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years
Text
A New Adventure
Warnings: None
Word count: ~2300
**Author’s note - This takes place in Utah (for my own reasons). This one shot is to set up my modern reader x Arthur Morgan head cannons. I am open to requests and ideas! If you like what you read, leave a comment!**
Masterlist
Read on AO3
You’re walking in the park by your home. It’s something you like to do every day with your dog, not only to give her exercise but so you can get some too. After all, working in an office at a desk doesn’t allow you to walk around much. 
The park is pretty and you’re lucky to be living just down the street from it. It sits at the foot of a mountain range in your home valley. Right now, there’s some snow on the ground from a big storm that came through a few days ago, but it’s already melting. Perks of living in the west. Sure, winters are cold and long and the snow sucks worse, but at least it only sticks around for a few days. You love living out here though. The mountains are beautiful, you wouldn’t trade them for hardly anything. 
You walk along the west side of the park right at the base of the mountain. There’s a small cave there, it only goes back about twenty feet and the local kids like to go play in there, and sometimes the older kids go in there to smoke or drink. Luckily because you live in a small neighborhood that isn’t close enough to the big city, kids smoking is about the worst that happens out here. You’ve been inside the cave once. There’s a weird drawing on the back wall, but several people have left their artists marks behind in it, so you’ve never thought anything of it.
As you begin approaching, Sage, your Bernese mountain dog, begins barking at it. Strange. She rarely barks and she’s been past this cave pretty much every day since you’ve had her. Maybe there’s a racoon or a skunk in there tonight. 
You tell Sage to shush and continue walking towards the cave. She settles down but still growls. You begin thinking of other things and forgetting about her behavior when a man steps out of the cave. You recognize him, not by his face, but his outfit. He’s dressed as Arthur Morgan from your favorite video game Red Dead Redemption 2. You smile at him. Cosplayers are a pretty big deal in your state, thanks to the rise of your local comic book convention. However, he’s dressed up for the wrong time for the con, it’s not until September. It’s only February. And why the hell would this cosplayer be in the cave dressed up? Weird. 
You keep walking. Sage wags her tail at him but continues on with you, no longer growling. She probably could smell him and not see him, explaining the barking. She’s an overly friendly dog so you’re not worried about her. 
The man looks around as though he’s no idea where he is. Maybe he’s on something. As you get closer, you think he’s an exceptional Arthur Morgan. He looks just like him. Not only are his clothes exactly like the character’s, even worn and dirty in the right spots, his face is exactly like him. Broad shoulders, tanned skin, light stubble on his jawline and unkempt hair under his iconic hat. You can even see the bald spot on his chin where Arthur has a scar. 
He continues looking around, confused, and then he spots you. You’re too close to just ignore him so you smile. 
“Nice cosplay!” you say. 
“Excuse me?” he says. Man, he even sounds like Arthur!
“I said, nice cosplay! You going to a costume party or something.” 
“A what? Lady, I ain’t got no clue what you’re saying.” 
You’ve stopped by this point to look at him, giving him a confused smile. “Man, you’re really in character too! I gotta admire that. I’m a cosplayer too but I can never stay in character. Kudos to you though!” 
You’re tempted to ask for a picture, but it seems perhaps a little inappropriate. He’s looking at you like you’re a freak, as if he wasn’t the one who just popped out of a cave. 
“Well, have a good night,” you say, walking on. 
“Uh, sure I guess. Hey, ma’am?” he jogs up to you and stops a few feet from you. He’s beginning to weird you out. Just because you live in a small neighborhood doesn’t mean you don’t know how dangerous people can be, particularly men. Besides, if he’s on something, he could be even more of a threat. You keep a tight leash on Sage. She’s not likely to attack him, but you don’t want him to know how much of a pushover pooch she is. 
“Sorry, ma’am, guess I’m just a little lost. Um, maybe ya can help me?” 
“Sure, I guess. What you wanna know?” 
“Well, where the hell am I, for starters.” 
You tell him the name of your town, keeping a hard eye on him. 
“Where is that exactly? Are we in New Hanover? Or West Elizabeth maybe?” 
“Oh boy, you really are selling this cosplay, ain’t you? Well, okay. I’ll play along. Mr. Morgan, you are in Utah.”
“Utah?” he says. He looks away and mouths the word. You know that Utah wasn’t a state until 1896, three years before Red Dead 2 takes place. Boy, this guy is really selling this. 
“Yeah. Come on, dude, quit playing. Your cosplay is on point, in fact everything about you is on point. But… come on, man what’s your name?” 
“Well, seems you already know my last name, miss. Name’s Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”
“Still playing, huh?” you say with a sigh. “Fine, have it your way.” You wonder if he’s one of those people with an illness that makes him believe he’s someone else. Like Teddy from Arsenic and Old Lace, who firmly believed he was Theodore Rosevelt. “Well, come on,” you say, wondering if you need to call the police or have him checked into a hospital. 
“Ma’am, I promise you I ain’t crazy and I ain’t playin’ whatever you think I’m playin’. Tell me, is it still 1899?’”
“What? Dude, come on. It’s 2020.”
“2020!” he cuts you off. “What the hell?” He looks around again and towards the east side of the park where the rec center and playground is, and beyond that the main road, busy with cars heading home for the night. His look of confusion and even fear is so genuine that you wonder what’s really going on. 
“Look, mister. What was the last thing you were doing before coming here?” 
He looks at you for a moment before answering. “I was in Big Valley collectin’ orchids for some crazy feller. I walked into this cave and saw a dinosaur bone. Some lady, don’t remember what she called herself, said she’d pay me for locations of bones. I went over to mark it and I saw this weird symbol on the wall. I touched it and the mouth of the cave got wickedly bright, it got hot, and when the light went away, I stepped out here.” 
He looks around again. “You seen a horse anywhere?” 
You look at him sadly. This poor, deluded man. Truly believes he’s Arthur Morgan, picking flowers for that collector in Saint Denis and finding bones for the paleontologist lady. You wonder who this man identified with before Red Dead 2 came out in 2018. 
“Mister, only rich people own horses. There’s some about a mile north, but they don’t belong to you I don’t think.” 
He looks at you, confused again. 
“Come on, mister,” you say, beckoning him to follow. “Let me, um… I think you need to see someone.” 
You begin walking again but he calls to you.
“Still don’t believe me, do ya miss?” 
“Listen to yourself!” you say. “Arthur Morgan is from a video game. A video game! He’s not real, but you are. Please sir, I think you need help.” 
“Lady, I don’t know what the hell a video game is, but I can prove I am real and I am Arthur Morgan!” 
He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a slightly ruffled looking orchid. The kind you know from playing the game grows in Big Valley in West Elizabeth, in the forest where the pigs and cougars spawn. He then pulls out a newspaper and hands it to you. 
The newspaper’s called “Saint Denis Times” and it’s dated June 18, 1899. The top headline is reporting the bloody massacre of the Grey family in Rhodes. You’ve read the newspapers in the game once before and you remember the article. It’s exactly the same as the one from the game. He then pulls out his pocketwatch. It’s worn and dirty just like the one from the game. 
He continues pulling out more objects, even some dried meat. As he shows you more things, you inspect the guns in his holsters. They look real. In his holster on his right hip, you see the double-action revolver with its gold barrel and white handle. You see the engraving of a stag’s head on it. 
The more he shows you, the more you find it hard to believe he’s not the real Arthur Morgan. But how in the hell is this possible? It can’t be and yet here he is. He even pulls out his journal. He doesn’t open it, you’re not surprised. You’ve played the game enough to know he’d never show you what’s inside (even though you’ve already seen it). Everything he’s shown you seems so genuine, so real. Something inside you says he’s not making it up, but how in the hell can it be real? There’s no logic to it! 
You tell him to put his things away as you try to think how this could have happened. Arthur, or whatever his real name is, asks to show you the drawing he touched in the cave. You say okay, but keep a firm grip on the pepper spray in your pocket (you never go anywhere without it). The man leads you to the cave and you pull out your phone and turn on the flashlight. 
“What is that?” he asks to the slim device in your hand, trying to stare into the light, flabbergasted by it. 
“It’s a phone,” you say, continuing on in the cave. Sage sniffs along the ground happily, but as you approach the back, she starts barking. The same way she was before the man came out of the cave. 
“That’s it,” he says, pointing to it. The drawing looks like some strange symbol. Although you’ve studied some anthropology and symbolism, you’ve never been able to place the culture or meaning of the symbol and just assumed some kid did it. However, getting closer to it, you see it’s been carved into the rock and looks like it’s been there for a long time. 
Arthur grabs your shoulder. “Don’t get closer to it, miss. I ain’t too sure what it is, but… well, it ain’t good I think. It’s what I touched and that’s how I ended up here.” 
You heed his warning and take a few steps back. You take a picture of it so you can do some research. You aren’t too sure what to do at this point. Something tells you that you can’t take this man to the hospital, and calling the cops wouldn’t do any good. However, the sun’s setting and you have to work in the morning. All your logic says he can’t stay with you, this isn’t a Disney movie after all. He might be playing an elaborate hoax or something. 
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” he asks. 
“How can I?” you demand. “I mean, listen to yourself! You can’t be Arthur Morgan! He’s from a video game!” 
The man sighs and walks over to the wall, placing his hand on the symbol. Sage begins barking like crazy and the opening of the cave becomes too bright to look at and the cave fills with hot air. After a few seconds, the light dims and it cools. 
You step outside the cave and find yourself standing in Big Valley. You’re in awe. Somehow, you’ve been transported to 1899 into the game of Red Dead. A pig somewhere nearby squeals and you see, maybe 50 feet away, a huge Ardennes warhorse. She snorts at Arthur. 
“You believe me now, miss?” he asks. 
You nod, still unable to speak. 
“Good. I… I have to admit, I wasn’t sure that’d work.” 
You finally look at him understandingly. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t think it was possible.” 
“I can understand why, miss. I wouldn’t believe it myself if it hadn’t happened to me.” He looks around and then begins to cough. 
“Shit, Arthur. You okay?” 
“Yeah,” he says, spitting into the grass and wiping his mouth. You see the small line of blood left away. 
“Arthur, you have TB, don’t you?”
He looks at you, shocked. “How… how do you know that? I only saw a doctor for it two days ago.” 
Where to begin with this, you wonder. “Um… it’ll take some explaining, but come on. Let’s see if we can go back and I can get you some medicine for it.” 
“You mean… there’s a cure for it where you come from?” 
“Well, sort of. We don’t have a cure, per say, but we do have antibiotics. They’ll kick your ass just about as much as the bacteria, but at least you’re more likely to live.” 
He looks at you and you see a glimmer of hope. “Okay. I’ll go with you, miss.”
You head back into the cave and touch the symbol. It surprisingly works again and you’re taken back to your time and your park. You’ll take Arthur to a doctor, but you have to drop Sage off at your house and get a car. You have to smile to yourself as you tell Arthur to walk with you. What an adventure this is going to be.
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spazzbunn · 5 years
Text
Christmas With Friends
Today was pretty big. It was Christmas Day in Zootopia! The kids were opening their presents, the adults went out to get some items thanks to the gift cards they got, it was even snowing. Overall, this Christmas was really starting to feel jolly. Especially for a house full of mammals. The home had its two owners inside the warm comfortable shelter that kept them cozy from the snow and cold wind outside. Michael and Katrice, the rabbit and red panda couple. They both were huddled close with their paws holding looking over at their fully decorated Christmas tree they made together. It was full of lights and ornaments and had a big bright yellow gold star on top. It truly looked breathtaking for the two of them. Amongst the noise that surrounded them was the television and the voices of their good friends. One other sound was able to catch their attention. A click with a sound of a flash. They turned around to witness what was behind them. It was a tall and slim figure with yellow and white and little bits of black spots and areas around this body. It was Hammy the cheetah. Having to wear his suit being of cranberry red and pine tree green tie to fit the Holidays. He had with him his camera, taking a moment to take pretty good looking pictures on whatever he saw as stunning. It was his passion. “Sorry, just that felt like a postcard moment.” Hammy said as he turned his camera around to show the small screen to have the two witness his very professional photography. “Dang Hammy. This looks good.” Michael told him as Hammy was happy with his work being liked by all. “Thanks. I’ll try to have this be in a postcard for next year. Just hope I don’t forget.” Hammy rubbed the back of his neck with Katrice patting him on his back. “No worries. Just send it to us. I know Michael won’t forget Christmas moments.” Katrice smirked at her rabbit who blushed slightly but nodded. Hammy went into the kitchen to lay down his camera by the counter since the table was full of different types of food to snack on. Michael went over to one side of the living room as Katrice went another. Both of them wanting to be good hosts for their guests, who also were their friends. Michael went over to a group of mammals on the couch. Watching television as it is playing some videos on a tabby cats phone. Next to the male tabby was a male coyote, a male african wild dog, and even a male silver fox. The bunny walked around and sat down next to the tabby. “Hey Jake.” Jake looked over. “Oh hey dude! I’m just showing the guys some videos about this crazy show in Japan.” Milo, the african wild dog, took a sip of water from his red cup. “Yeah. It is very odd. Who the heck would even think of stuff like this?” “Maybe odd mammals?” Shadow the silver fox stated. Having to have no red contacts or any red or purple on his fur. He wanted to look clean for his friends. Mainly, because his girlfriend otter Karen got him to be cleaning the dye off. “That, or the show itself knows its audience?” Evan Coywise, the coyote, told the guys as they all pretty much agreed with his theory. “Eh. Hey, thanks for inviting us, by the way.” Milo said to Michael with the rabbit feeling happy to hear that. “Yeah. This Christmas get together is pretty sweet.” Shadow says as he looks around to see Tod coming back with a plate of food. Having mac n cheese, some turkey, and corn on it. “Oh hey Michael!” Tod the reddish orange fox went over to sit down at the last empty seat of it as he takes a bite of the mac n cheese with the fork he had. “I was kinda surprised everyone showed up early.” Michael says as he looked to see everyone was accounted for. “Well it is rare for us to hang out together. We all are different, but we still care for each other.” Milo points out as he takes another sip of his drink. Tod looked over at Milo. “You must have drank the philosophy juice or something.” Shadow laughed from Tod’s joke as Michael and Jake watch a bit of the weird game show as they questioned about if they both could ever compete with getting a show like this. The answer seemed like a ‘no’ to the tabby and bunny. Katrice in the meanwhile went over to the side of the house where the chairs from the kitchen were moved as a couple of mammals used them to sit down and starting to draw. One pig, the other a rabbit, and the last a raccoon with blue fur where its black should be. All three of them were female and another common thing was they were artists. Katrice raised a brow. “Hey you three. What are you all doing?” The gray rabbit with brown ears and brown stylish hair looked up at the red panda. “Oh sorry! We are doing a sort of challenge here.” “Oh?” The red panda seemed curious to know. Helena looked up as she fixed her glasses. “Yeah! We are trying to draw the tree you guys have and post our artworks on our tweets. The most liked picture wins” “Ah cool!” Said Katrice. “What would the winner get?” “Bragging rights.” The raccoon said as she took a sip of Dr.Pepper as she kept drawing with a smirk. “Oh, after we finish up, we wanna know if you wanna chat and eat with us in the kitchen.” “Awww. I’d love to. The kitchen seems a bit crowded though.” Katrice saw that inside were Hammy, Diana, Karen, and the brown bear Lou and the other rabbit Gerry. All of them talking and laughing and cracking jokes. “We can slip in fine.” Helena says to Katrice. “Besides, I am about to call quits before my paw breaks.” She sets her paper down on an empty chair they had. “Ehh. Same.” Fever and Trish said in unison as they gave their artworks to Hel as she puts them on top of hers. “I think I am gonna get something to eat as well.” Katrice said to her friends as the girls got up and the four of them started to head into the kitchen. Michael gets up as well, his stomach growling since he had to skip breakfast along with Katrice since they were busy cleaning and setting up the food. “Sorry guys, but I gotta get something to eat.” “It’s cool dude.” Evan says to him. “Hey, could you get me a bread roll? I want to finish this crazy show with the guys before I eat.” Michael obliged as he went around the couch and started to head towards the kitchen where he witnessed his girlfriend and their friends having fun. He walks in to go find a roll as Katrice comes up to him and smiles. “Well, everyone seems to be having fun here.” “Heh. I know. We did great Katrice.” Michael says with him smiling back at her. This got the attention of the skunk who saw the two being cute together and calls out to them. “Awwwe~ You guys having a little date over there?!~” Diana jokingly said with a smug grin. Her glasses even added more smugness to it. Michael and Katrice blushed and were trying to act cool with Diana laughing softly. “I’m just joking you guys.” Karen sipped her cup of tea. “Diana is a jokester I found out. She looks so sweet but yet can act like a spice at times.” “Eh. I just am Yin and Yang really. Both inside and out.” Diana ate a cracker as Lou thought about her sentence and snickers.. “Ok, that’s pretty funny. Especially since you are black and white.” Lou laughed as he was eating some cheese and grapes on his plate with Diana looking at herself but then smirking and trying not to laugh as well. She really walked into that one. Karen smiled along with Michael and Katrice while the mammals then hear that familiar click. Hammy had his camera out and took another picture to treasure. “Sorry again. Just, this whole gives off good vibes. I wanna cherish these you know?” Hammy put the camera down back on the counter as everyone was telling him it was fine. “Yeah dude. Nothing wrong with taking good pictures with friends.” Lou said with Karen and Diana agreeing. Michael looks at the roll in his paw. Then he remembered what he went in here for. “Oh! I almost forgot!” “Forgot about what?” A mammal came into the room with everyone looking over to who said that. It was Daniel the weasel. He was a pretty chill friend of Michael so of course he had to come and celebrate with him and his girlfriend and his friends. He was in the bathroom having to have to take a phone call from his parents. He was finished so he came down to see what was happening. “Oh nothing Daniel. I just gotta give Evan this roll. Also I planned on eating as well.” Michael tells Daniel as the weasel goes to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. Michael looks around with his mind wanting to get a bowl of Katrice’s mac n cheese. She always makes the best food ever. Before the bunny could get started with getting a bowl, Gerry comes over and gives a big hug to both Michael and the red panda. “Jeez your hugs are pretty strong” Katrice said as he lets go with Michael holding on to the roll for dear life. “Hey I give bigger hugs too.” Lou stated with him going to get some sugar cookies. “Sorry, but I was just about ready to head out. My family is gonna head on over to my other family for dinner as well.” Gerry explains as he took a sugar cookie and started to eat one. “Awww. Sucks you gotta go.” Fever said with her and Trish eating some ham as Gerry sighed. “Well, the Holidays are pretty busy this time for year after all.” The light brown rabbit said as he took another bite. “You was pretty chill to hang around.” Daniel tells Gerry who took that compliment. “You gotta hang out with Michael and some of us at ‘Boys Night’” Gerry rubbed his chin. “I think I got time this weekend. So yeah!” He finished his cookie. “Besides, I am gonna throw a New Years Eve party so we can spend more time together!” “Wooo! Boys night!” Jake shouted as he and the rest of the guys came over. Evan seeing the roll and thanking Michael as he takes it and begins to eat it. Fever looked at the whole group that was in the big clean kitchen. Full of laughs and full of cheer. She was there when Hammy took that picture of Michael, Katrice, Lou and Karen with Diana as well. It was starting to give her an idea. She poked on the shoulders of Michael and Katrice as the two looked over and she whispered something into their ears. Both the bunny and the red panda’s ears stood up and had the same smile as their friend. “Hey Hammy.” Katrice says with the cheetah looking over to her. “Got enough space for one more picture?” “Of course!” Hammy said with pride. “What you got in mind?” Michael then spoke up. “We want to take a Christmas picture. Together with all of us here.” Everyone looked at each other. Quickly, they all pretty much agreed to that idea. “Alrighty. Been a rarity since I done one of these.” Trish said as she finished her plate. “Same here.” Jake said as he sipped his drink of cola. “Where would we take the pic at?” Milo questioned with Evan looking over at the tree. “Hmm. What about the Christmas Tree?” Evan points out. “Sure!” Michael and Katrice said together. “Alright!” Tod says as he went over to pick up a chair and carry it in the living room with everyone starting to follow. Karen and Shadow held each other close in front of the tree. Same with Michael and Katrice. Tod sets down the chair far away from the group so the photo can get the whole view of the mammals, the tree and decorations, even a glimpse of the snow outside. The group starts to form big with Lou being perfectly in place of the camera. The same goes for everyone. Hammy would be the last as Tod goes to join in the photo. He sets the camera down onto the chair and sets up the camera to be timed as it begins to beep. Quickly he runs in and fills in the last spot. “Oh! We should say Merry Christmas.” Katrice tells everyone with Michael loving the idea. “Sounds good my pumpkin spice raccoon. But why?” Michael asked in confusion. “Idk. Seems holly and jolly.” The red panda says with the camera starting to beep more, saying it was close to take the photo. “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” The group all shouted at the same time as the photo flashed and clicked, the picture being taken. Everyone would pretty much agree. This Christmas was the best one yet. Maybe, even the best one ever. They were glad to spend it together. Merry Christmas to all of Zootopia, and to the people that mean a lot to me.           - Spazzie Bunnie Katrice belongs to @msitubeatz Fever belongs to @feverwildehopps Trish belongs to @trashasaurusrex Helena belongs to @helthehatter Diana belongs to @skeletonguys-and-ragdolls Gerry belongs to @androace-bunny Evan belongs to @wartoxdude Hammy belongs to @hammytotherescue Jake belongs to @kingdomofkitten Shadow belongs to @n-p-wilde Karen belongs to @azshade Lou belongs to @firecracker-art-lounge Milo belongs to @juantriforce042 Tod belongs to @thefoxninja17 Daniel belongs to @owningsuperset7
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tessatechaitea · 4 years
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Justice League Spectacular #1 (1992)
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Just off-panel: Bibbo's ice cream truck.
I probably shouldn't be reading this or Justice League Quarterly before I read the Giffen/DeMatteis Justice League but what can I do? That's the order they were placed in the short box! It would be a different story if free will were not an illusion but since it is, my hands are tied. It's either read this or, um, I don't know. Die from a temporal paradox? I won't risk it! I was looking through a bunch of my old writing and art last week and discovered a bunch of the kind of sentimental and sort of intellectual crap young people write. It's the kind of stuff you hide away and never show anybody ever and hope that when you die, it'll just get tossed in a dumpster with your old porn and Magic the Gathering cards. But it got me thinking about how brave I am! So brave! The kind of brave you wouldn't hesitate to call some jerk who signed up for the military because he couldn't live as a civilian. No, no. More braver than that! And being this super brave kind of person, I thought that maybe I should share some of this old poetry with everybody! But not yet! You have to work up to being truly brave! So instead, I'll share this piece of artwork I did that was supposed to be the first in a lengthy and disgusting series. It's of Lord Fondlerot, a character I created for the Dwarflover online comic I used to do. He was really into fucking things and I thought, "Hey! I should do a series of drawings where he fucks every creature in the monster manual!" But instead of doing an entire series, I drew one picture and grew either bored or disgusted with the concept. So here's that one picture:
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Lord Fondlerot fucking an Axebeak.
Now you're probably wondering just how terrible my poetry must be if I'm opening with that! Well, you'll see soon enough! This issue begins with Sue Dibny still alive and visiting a Florida theme park with her husband, The Elasticated Man. Wow, remember when Sue Dibny was killed and all the heroes freaked out about their secret identities and considered doing intense brain damage to every single person who ever knew any of their identities until they found out that The Atom's ex-wife Jean Loring had gone cuckoo for Atom's cocoa puffs? She wanted them back so bad that she began threatening and murdering the loved ones of all the super heroes. It was the kind of story DC sometimes does where you read it and think, "Well, the twist at the end of that mystery was definitely worth the destruction of the most stable marriage in the DC Universe and also the death of Firestorm and Captain Boomerang! So good!" I mean it doesn't make you think that. It makes you think the exact opposite. Tom King would eventually do pretty much the same thing in Heroes in Crisis but instead of Jean Loring fucking up by accidentally killing Sue Dibny and murdering more people to cover her tracks, Wally West fucks up and kills Poison Ivy and some others and then tries to cover his tracks. But at least Tom King's had all of those entertaining scenes where the heroes are doing therapy and we get to see how much they're all suffering from PTSD. That's always a fun aspect of super heroes we never get to read enough about. Dammit! I keep doing it. I meant it was the opposite of fun! Although I still liked it because sometimes I just like seeing other people in pain. Not in a sick perverse way where I pop a boner or something! Just in that way where you sit around all day thinking, "My life is terrible and everything is wrong and I hate my parents for bringing me into this wretched existence and the only thing that might make me feel better is to learn that Superman sometimes feels the same way." Oh, remember when Tom King was writing Batman and he had that two issue Booster Gold arc where we got to see how fucking insane Booster Gold was from living through all of those horrible, wretched, dark alternate timelines? And the only way he can deal with the trauma and the PTSD is by making a joke out of everything? I'll have to think of that as the canon Booster Gold when I'm reading Giffen and DeMatteis's Justice League. Maybe it'll make all of Booster and Beetle's inappropriate joking more appropriate. Back to the story, Sue Dibny, alive and well, and her husband Ralph "The Elasticated Man" Dibny are busy showing a bunch of European diplomats around the non-Disney World theme park.
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See? You can tell they're European because they're all smart and shit.
The first stop in the park is to Alice's Wonderland where the diplomats are attacked by the Royal Flush Gang. They are a gang whose theme is playing cards and not expensive toilets. Their powers are the ability to ride on gigantic cards and to make poker puns.
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If looking good in tight fitting costumes is also a power, it's my new answer to the question of which super power would I choose..
Ten's outfit reminds me of the days when nipples were allowed to show through tops without being erased away through some kind of editing software. The 70s were a wild decade! Sure, there were also nips on television in the 80s but the 80s, generally speaking, sucked and were a huge contribution to the downfall of America.
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The King of Spades mansplaining their entire concept to the Queen of Spades.
It's true that the royal flush beats any other poker hand but I doubt Superman is going to surrender after this concept is explained to him because, in the end, they're not fucking playing poker. It turns out Maxwell Lord paid the Royal Flush Gang to make a little trouble so the Justice League could beat them up and get some media attention. But the Justice League has apparently broken up and The Elasticated Man just isn't hero enough to save the European delegates all by himself. He might have been if the Royal Flush Gang had done what they were told and not really fight back. But why would they do that?! Wouldn't they still be in trouble with federal agents?! Booster Gold finds Blue Beetle busy pouting in the old Justice League cave headquarters. Booster has decided to try to cheer his old buddy up although why wouldn't Booster just travel to a timeline where Ted Kord is already cheered up? Is that how time travel works in the DCU? Or did Booster already try that, it went horribly sideways, and now he's a little more fucked up in the head when he returns to the "real" timeline?
For some reason, Ice and Fire have also come down to the cave. Probably to accidentally go on a double date with Booster and Beetle. Booster and Fire and Beetle and Ice hear a news report about the Royal Flush Gang and decide to go save Ralph. Superman also hears about the situation and heads to Florida where he's almost immediately defeated by The Royal Flush Gang. Not because they're dangerous and competent super villains but because some mysterious benefactor has give them weapons capable of knocking out Superman's powers. Maxwell Lord is not that benefactor so who could have done it? Certainly not Guy Gardner, right?! What would he want with getting the Justice League back together. Isn't he busy being Warrior or something by this point? Power Girl, Metamorpho, and Guy Gardner all join in on the fight. The guy behind it all is that Weapons Master dude who is desperate to get a new weapon for his arsenal: a Green Lantern ring. The attack on the Royal Flush Gang fails to get him the ring so he decides to attack directly. But not in this issue! He has to wait for a regular series issue. Ice uses Guy's ring to contact Hal Jordan because somebody finally decided this Justice League wasn't really a big league Justice League. Everybody reading it knew it for years. But I guess Dan Jurgens was assigned the task to get a new, more believably powerful League together. So Hal Jordan flies around to pick up some new members to save the day. He chooses The Flash and Aquaman which seems about right. But he also chooses Crimson Fox which seems like sliding backwards into goofy Justice League territory. Not that I totally approve of Aquaman but I have to admit he's a "serious" choice for the League.
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Doctor Light also joins the party. Although why she'd keep the name of a pedo, I couldn't guess. Just become Lightwoman or something. But no! Once some jerk earns their doctorate, they just have to demand to be called Doctor.
I'm sorry. I was too distracted pointing out that Doctor Light joined the fight and how her namesake was a pervert to comment on Metamorpho acting like a huge fucking pig. Crimson Fox beats up some guys dressed as cards and admits that she's a boring idiot whose favorite part of the game is shuffling the cards. I understand the need to think up some kind of goofy one-liner when you go into battle but shouldn't you at least try to think up one that doesn't make yourself sound like a pathetic asshole? Weapons Master's plan failed but he figures he has enough information to get Green Lantern's ring next time. He'll then sell it to a Dominator for a few bucks and maybe some slaves. The big hitters talk it over and decide they should start a new Justice League without the approval of the United Nations. Yeah! Who needs some stupid Earthly authority when you've got an invulnerable Kryptonian, an all powerful space cop, and the king of the seven seas! All they need is a Greek Goddess and a mentally ill furry with a long history of violent behavior and they'll have the big team back together! Booyah! I mean, without that stupid Booyah shit because Cyborg is basically a toaster at this point. Maybe. I don't know! What am I, Johnni DC, Continuity Cop?! The heroes make one more decision: split the group into two Leagues. So once again, they're forming Justice League America and Justice League Europe. How come I don't remember this shit?! Did the comics get canceled in '92 and then immediately fired back up? I don't seem to remember two different incarnations of these teams. Maybe I should have stored my comic books in chronological order so it would all make sense. Justice League Spectacular #1 Rating: C. I just read the letters pages and it looks like this comic book takes place between JLA #60 and JLA #61! So editorial decided the teams needed to be shaken up and the best way to do it was to disband the League in the regular series, have a special one-shot comic that gets them back together but with a different roster, and then send them back to work in the next issue of the regular series. I guess I should just shove this comic book into the middle of the regular series so when I reread it all again in my 80s, it'll make more sense! Let's close with the worst drawing of Aquaman I've ever seen:
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Actually, he looks a little bit like Grunion Guy.
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Roadblocks, part 6
Welcome back. When last you were here, we made sure Yova and Marigold would be able to bump clams in peace. Onward.
Our next misadventure got underway less than a week later. Though it was one of those weeks that just draaaaaagged. It almost felt like a year passed.
I was the one who got the first inclination that something might be a little off. I’d had a busy, if not particularly eventful day, and finished off the evening giving my nightly report to Adrian via Paisley. I settled in for the evening and fell asleep, which is when things got weird. I’ve mentioned how we’re lucid dreamers and can more or less change our dreams however we want. What was weird was how understated my dream that night was. It was pitch-black, aside from a few grayish light sources, and all I could make out was a box in the vague distance.
I made my way to the box, hearing upbeat music get slowly louder as I did. The box itself was about five feet tall, painted red, with cracked, dimly-lit lights lining each edge, going up about halfway. The top half was clear, and inside was an animatronic. It looked just like one of those Zoltar fortuneteller machines, except that the animatronic inside looked exactly like Adrian. I summoned up a quarter – sometimes lucid dreaming comes in handy – and put it in the slot. As I did, a prerecorded voice that sounded almost like Adrian, if it hadn’t been so lifeless, said, “A familiar face awaits you.” And where the fortune would normally pop out on a little piece of paper, instead I saw a ticket with floral embellishments around the side and elegant letters read, “ADMIT ONE: SMILE LAND.”
I had never heard of Smile Land before, and seeing this pastiche of Adrian, trapped inside a cage and forced to give fortunes, made my stomach hurt. So I pushed it away. I drove away the darkness and conjured up memories of my favorite running path in the Adirondacks, a place with beautiful vistas overlooking the autumn foliage and under clear, cold skies. It was a place I wanted desperately to take Adrian to, and it felt more real and permanent than most of the other dreams I’d had. I woke up the next morning remembering everything in perfect clarity.
But while my dream was weird, it was far from the weirdest thing that had ever happened. And I wasn’t the only one who had things going on. As it turned out, it was Day who got the most specific instructions. Bella had brought coffee over and was sorting through his paperwork, only to spot some official correspondence from the Autumn Court. Opening it up, she found a stiff-sounding letter from Stella that said, in about 800 times the words, “This might be nothing, it might be something, you should look into it.”
Bella turned and, in her usual dulcet tones, bellowed, “DAAaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAAAY! You got a letter!” Day grumbled from where he was halfway through nursing his hangover and Bella walked over, smacking the letter on his chest. Day read through it and found out there were a few odd disappearances in the area that Stella had become aware of. Given that Day made it his business to continue the investigative bent, she decided to reach out to him first. The missing folks didn’t seem to have a lot in common: one was a woman in her mid-60s, one was a college-aged dude, and the last was a random office-worker. They weren’t similar in any way, shape, or form, but they each had one thing in common: before they disappeared, each one mentioned that they had been hearing really strange music at random times and it was starting to get to them.
Day pulled up the databases and began checking where each of the three missing people lived. “Do you need me to call the others?” Bella asked him. “Nah, I’ll look into it,” he said. Bella made a big show of picking up his coffee mug and saying, “You’re the boss man around here, I’m just your lowly secretary making sure everything here stays neat and organized.” “Lowly secretary, my ass,” Day grumbled, heading out the door. He decided to start at the retirement community the older woman lived at.
From the outside, her home looked like every other one on the block, and he managed to pick the lock on the front door after a couple of minutes. Inside was a very neat apartment in cream and lace, decorated in stereotypical old lady Precious Moments style. Looking around, he didn’t notice much out of place. But then, after a minute, he started to hear a faint tune, almost like an ice cream truck jingle. It was there, and then gone.
On leaving, Day bumped into one of the missing woman’s neighbors and asked him if he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary. He mentioned that he did happen to spot something near where they both put out their garbage cans. He handed over a tattered, stained piece of paper, which read “SMILE LAND: ADMIT ONE.” Yeah. The neighbor said he’d asked around at the community hall and nobody had heard of Smile Land before. He hadn’t seen any advertisements for it and nobody had been talking about it. The last time he’d seen her was about a week ago, standing outside her front door looking dazed, like her head was in the clouds.
Day got back in his car and called Bella, asking her if she’d heard of any new carnivals or circuses in town, instructing her to look into Smile Land. “Aye-aye, captain,” Bella said, pulling up our old friend Professor Google. There weren’t any results, but the more Bella thought about it, she was almost sure she’d heard the name Smile Land before when helping Marigold sort through some documents. So she gave our resident librarian a ring.
And where was Marigold during all this, you ask? At the gym, cheering on Yova as she went through her boxing routine. Ever since they’d decided to make it official, they had been nauseatingly cute and by each other’s side almost all the time. Marigold wasn’t too busy to take Bella’s call, and when Bella asked her about the Smile Land ticket, Marigold perked right up.
“Oh, that’s a very interesting story!” she said. “No one that I know of has actually been there, so I can’t say for certain if the information is 100% accurate, but from what I hear, it’s a sort of – well, it’s like a Hollow, but bigger, within the Hedge.” “A Tardis?” Bella asked. “Well, no. Hollows are maybe a room or two, maybe the size of a small house. This is an entire area that has a hobgoblin, or someone, I’m not really sure, in charge. A few people have been there. It’s sort of set up like a fair,” Marigold said. “Oh, it’s like an amusement park!” Bella said, perking right up at the thought of fried food. “Yes, exactly. Why do you ask?” Marigold asked. Bella went over Day’s job and how he asked her to help him find it out. Marigold perked up again and told Bella that she needed to make another call and to wish Day good luck on his investigation. “Tell Yova not to do anything I wouldn’t do,” Bella said.
Yova came over for a breather around this time and Marigold looked up and said, “Bella says hi, and ‘Get it, girl,’” Marigold reported. Yova gave her a wink and said, “Well, I think I’ve gotten it,” and I’m sorry if you need to go throw up from the cuteness, I am merely the chronicler, what do you want from me.
And it was at this point that Marigold made a call to one of the other changelings in the Autumn Court, a Beast Leechfinger by the name of Dr. Alexander Dickinson. Now, how to give you the full Dr. Alexander experience? To describe him as unpleasant and lacking any interpersonal skills would be like saying the Hinderberg was just a little static cling. Maybe it’s best just to give you their conversation.
On answering, Dr. Alexander asked Marigold what she wanted. “I know that you’re interested in biology and that sort of science and, well, some of my friends are apparently looking into a carnival or fair,” Marigold said. “Can’t say I’ve heard of a carnival that has much medical interest going on,” Dr. Alexander said. “Well, they should have sideshows and curiosity cabinets and that sort of thing,” Marigold said. “And with enough makeup, any poodle can look like a pig. What’s your point?” Dr. Alexander asked. “Well, I was just trying to be nice. I thought it might be something to look into for your research,” Marigold said, hanging up and harrumphing.
Yova’s girlfriend-in-distress sense was tingling, so she took a break from beating the crap out of her trainer and went over. “Someone was rude to you,” she said, drawing herself up to her six and a half feet of height. “I try to be nice, and I try to be helpful, and –” Marigold began, before being interrupted by her phone ringing.
“What sort of friends?” Dr. Alexander asked, when she answered. “Well, it’s, um, some of the other Court changelings. They’re new here. Bella is with the Spring Court, and if she’s asking about it, I assume her motley is as well.” Dr. Alexander asked her where we were going to be meeting and she told him she’d pass along the word to all of us to meet at the Autumn Court lodge.
Which, spoiler alert, we did. None of the rest of us had much going on, and I had just baked a batch of delicious muffins, so we piled in, congregating around the large fireplace in the lodge foyer. And it was around then that Dr. Alexander Dickinson arrived. To give you an idea of what he looks like, picture average height and build, a very reptilian appearance, wearing lab coat and slacks. The worst part is that his hands each have lamprey mouths in them. You learn quickly not to shake hands with him.
I tried to be friendly and asked, “Hey, doc, want a muffin?” “No, thank you,” he said. “Do your hands want a muffin?” I asked. Yova stood and held out her hand, unwisely, saying, “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” “Of course you haven’t had the pleasure. He’s not your type,” Day quipped.
Once the introductions were out of the way, Marigold explained that Dr. Alexander asked that she call us all there. Bella brought up Smile Land, which almost made me choke, and I spent the next few minutes coughing a bite of muffin out of my lungs. Marigold explained what Smile Land was: “At least from what I’ve managed to read about, it’s sort of like a fair, circus thing. House of horrors, sideshow, animals, things like that. I thought Dr. Alexander might be interested since he has an interest in fae biology. It might be a place he could do some research. I know that those places, they tend to have – or exploit, rather – things of strange physiological nature.”
I managed to clear the muffin from my airway and told them about my dream from the night before. “Well, that certainly seems like more than serendipity,” Yova said. Day brought up the letter he got about the disappearances the Autumn Court wanted him to look into. He explained how none of them had anything in common other than the weird music they were hearing. Pam brought up the possibility that since this was involving the Hedge, there might have been a chance that we were looking into changelings, not regular humans. As we discussed possibly going to take a look, a chill of dread went up each of our spines. There was only one person I knew of who could project that much horror and dismay in her mere presence.
So I turned and said, “Hey, Stella. Muffin?” “No, thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Detective, I’m quite pleased you got on this so quickly. It was faster than I expected. And you even got Alexander out of his notes. How pleasing.” “Yeah, that was my plan all along,” Day said, shooting his gaze from side to side. “Oh, you don’t have to make excuses, it’s just a pleasant surprise. Good morning, Alexander,” she said. Alexander nodded. Those of us in the Autumn Court are the best at pleasantries. Stella looked at us and said, “I would just like to note that from what we could gather, I’m fairly sure those who disappeared are not changelings, just humans. IT was the manner of their disappearance that caused our concern.” And then she floated backward out of the foyer, floated backward up the stairs, floated backward into her office, and the door closed without anyone touching it.
There was little else to do at this point but go off to the carnival. Marigold elected to stay behind, explaining that she didn’t have any particular interest in going herself and she trusted Yova to come back with a full report. As we moved out of the lodge and into the Hedge, I closed my eyes, trying to remember the feeling of the ticket and what it looked like. The music that came from the automated Adrian and the sound of his voice. After a few moments, I had a strange sense of direction – not really a cardinal direction, more of a sense of “this is where we need to go.” I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder, telling everyone, “Follow me.” And we set out into the Hedge.
 For the first forty minutes or so, everything was fine. We were still in the area of the Hedge considered close to the human world. As we got further out and it was less charted and wilder, the briars started getting larger and blocking out more of the sun until we were in an area where we couldn’t really see anything through the briars and brambles and thorns. The vines got wider and harder to avoid. The path became less obvious, and while most of us were able to keep on it just fine, Yova and Dr. Alexander fell behind a bit and got distracted by some sounds, the cawing of what they described as large birds rustling in the thorns. As they were looking around, the brambles lifted up from the ground and tripped them up a bit, falling further behind. They were able to eventually catch up, but were definitely scraped up in the process.
It took about another hour for us to find ourselves in a place where the thorns started clearing out. We couldn’t see the sky through the canopy of vines, but the ground itself was much clearer, and there was a light up ahead on the path. And once again, I hear the creepy calliope music, slightly out of tune. There was a molded metal gate and a large wooden fence going out and extending as far as the eye could see. The gate had a filigree motif going up at least fifteen feet, much higher than it needed to be. The metal was molded to say “SMILE LAND” and had flags flying from it. A hobgoblin, much taller than we were used to seeing, was dressed in red and white vertical stripes, hunched over a little ticket booth.
As we gathered and took in the thoroughly depressing sight, Yova sighed, “Why does nobody ever tune their calliope?” “You know,” I said, “I’ve always said that is one of the most pressing issues we’re facing today. We need to get these kids off the mindset that they have to go to college and send them to calliope tuning school. Calliope tuners are going to solve the unemployment problem.” Yova gave me her patented listen-here-you-little-shit look that was only interrupted by the goblin addressing us.
He smiled wider than his face should have been able to accommodate, saying, “Customers, welcome! Step right up! Welcome to Smile Land, the happiest place in the Hedge!” “Hardly a high bar, is it?” Dr. Alexander asked. Oh, we pride ourselves on being the most fantastical location of entertainment for miles, kilometers, leagues, whatever form of measurement. You’ll find no more a magical or whimsical place than this,” the goblin replied. “I take it cash will work?” Dr. Alexander asked. “All we ask in return is your happiness,” the hobgoblin said, grinning even wider. “I have cash,” Dr. Alexander said.
As we walked through the gates, we saw a plethora of people. There were some goblins, some obviously fae-touched though it was impossible to tell the origin, and a good number who were obviously human. The humans all looked dazed and not quite lucid. In fact, most of the fairgoers didn’t really look lucid. It was like they were moving about in a daze. Bella scanned the crowd and said, “They look like they know where they are, but they don’t look like they’re awake. They almost look like they’re sleepwalking.”
Around us were the usual carnival staples. There was a large selection of carnival games with barkers of fae origin. Most of them looked like goblins, some were changelings, but they were all drawing customers in who seemed to be participating in the games in a half-hearted way. There was a large circus tent near the center o the area and advertisements for a freak show, which, given the level of strangeness we were used to by now, made all of us wary. There was a Museum of Wonders that looked oddly like a Ripley’s Believe It or Not!, and a section of festival foods, though it had a very acrid smell wafting away from it.
We decided since there was so much ground to cover, the best thing to do would be to split into three pairs, and if we found one of our targets, to bring him or her back to the central area. Day had three pictures that he showed to each of us: an older woman with short, curly hair; a college dude with a linebacker build; and a middle-aged guy with a tragic combover.
Day and Dr. Alexander headed for the freak show. There were advertisements for the standard array of freaks: the strong man, the bearded lady, the sword-swallower, though the pictures hinted that none of them were quite as tame as you would see in the human world. The barker encouraged the crowds to come in and Day and Dr. Alexander shuffled along with them into a long, tented hallway. At first, things didn’t look too egregious. There were a few strange-looking hedgebeasts tied up and looking absolutely miserable. A few contortionist hobgoblins contorting in ways that bodies shouldn’t. They spotted one changeling with a more human appearance than they others they had seen who had a rubbery sheen and appeared to be the sword-swallower act. The sword wasn’t piercing it, but was stretching its neck down to the floor. It wasn’t able to let any noise out around the steel.
Further in, Dr. Alexander spotted a humanoid thing that had been carefully vivisected with each layer of it stretched out like a page in a book. It moved from the skin down to the muscles and the skeleton and organs, which were still pulsating and moving. Its eyes were darting around, looking at the passersby. There was no expression because the face muscles were held in place by wires. I have no idea how this didn’t hit him hard as a Beast – I almost barfed when he told me about it. But he just started making hasty diagrams. Day didn’t pay a huge amount of attention, because across the way, he spotted the linebacker college student.
Bella and Pam, especially Bella, wanted to go into the Museum of Wonders. Bella pulled Pam by the hand toward it and inside. Unlike most of the rest of the tents, the museum was an actual building. Once they were inside, they were able to see some rides that weren’t visible form the entrance. Moving through the exhibits, they saw a bunch of magical items and knick-knacks, though nothing as impressive as they would have expected from the name.
Eventually, they arrived in the center room, which had a shut door and a sign above it reading “THE DREAMATORIUM.” Here, they saw little crystals lining the walls, almost like a honeycomb pattern. Each crystal was about the size of a fist, with a very flat surface and bevels on each end. Though they were about the same size, they were all different shapes and colors. Within each one, they could see first-person views of things. None of what they saw was magical, but they seemed to be important events: one had a beautiful ocean vista, another was staring down at a first-place medal in a hand, another had two hands out with a laughing, smiling baby bouncing up and down in the air.
Bella realized what was going on – she was seeing the happy memories of all the fairgoers. She looked back and Pam and said, “They said all the admission costs is your happiness. These are people’s happiness.” Pam made a very mom, “Mmmm,” before saying, “That doesn’t seem like a good thing for them to have here.” “I don’t think this is a good place to begin with,” Bella said. Around this time, they realized that everyone in the museum was a fae nature and they decided to skedaddle before they got into trouble.
Team Gay decided to head to the games and carnival barkers. As we walked along, we could see the standard games: toss the rings or darts at balloons, what have you. Then there were the ones that were a little more exotic looking. There was a dunking booth with a squirmy little hobgoblin above a tank of what could only be described as eau de goblin pee. We could smell something that vaguely resembled fair food. Or maybe “food” would be more accurate. It smelled fried, but the oil didn’t seem right. Not like it was rancid, just off somehow. There were goblins and changelings of all shapes and sizes shouting for people to come play the games, but everyone doing so just seemed like they were going through the motions.
“Ugh, this is gross. I didn’t even like the fair when I was human,” I said as we moved through. “I mean, I played a few fairs, but they weren’t like this,” Yova said. It took me a moment to realize what she was saying and then I looked up and asked, “Did you play the Ren Faire? Oh, my God, you totally played the Ren Faire.” “Well, of course I did,” she said indignantly. “It was a gig and Julliard isn’t cheap!”
We probably would have continued bickering if our eyes hadn’t alighted on the older woman from the pictures sitting at one of the water gun games. She and the other patrons weren’t making much progress, but they just kept playing it. And it was then that I looked up and saw what they were playing for. There was some costume jewelry in all shades of the rainbow that was the grand prize and IT WAS SO SHINY but Yova literally tackled me right as I was about to sit down in one of the open seats.
The goblin running the game tipped his hat and said, “Well, that’s a shame. It looks like your friend wants to play.” I gave Yova my friendliest smile, which has on occasion caused small children to burst into tears and made adults offer me Advil. Yova, however, just sighed and sat me down and I eagerly took the controls. And I kicked their sorry asses. The little water balloon rose up and up and I beat them all by a healthy margin. The barker congratulated me and handed me the teensiest, tiniest little cheap crappy ring. It wasn’t shiny at all. I looked up, confused, and the barker pointed to the chart that showed prize progression, explaining that with a couple more tries I could win my way up. I looked over at the other competitors, who didn’t seem like they wanted to move at all. Everyone was waiting on me to see whether the game was going to start up again.
But I am nothing if not determined to get shinies. And I can’t really explain what it was that made me go along with it. The barker just seemed so convincing in his praise and his confidence that I’d be able to get the grand prize without any trouble at all. I wanted to play again. So we went.
While I was playing, Yova managed to strike up a conversation with the woman we were seeking. “That was a good run, you’re doing quite well at this. You seem very skilled,” she said. The woman gave her a wide smile, but it didn’t go above her mouth. “I’m having so much fun,” she said to Yova, before turning back to the game.
And I kept playing. The second time, I tied with one of the other players. And we kept going. I tied some, I won some, I lost some. What I didn’t notice, and which Yova had to point out to me, was that rather than everyone getting a separate prize as they won, the barker was just moving the same small ring around between whoever won most recently. She eventually stepped up to the barker as I was getting the ring back. As he looked away from me, the urge to play – other than my motivation for the shiny – was gone.
The barker asked Yova, “Can I help you, miss?” “Yes, you can,” she said, snatching the ring from my hand. She crushed it in her hand and blasted her Glamour, overwhelming the barker with her flaring aura. “I think all of these people have played enough for the day. Maybe some of the other patrons would like to patronize your lovely establishment?” The goblin gulped, looking like the vibration on a string instrument. He shooed us away from the game, starting his step-right-up routine to a new group.
Yova swept me away and put a companionable arm around the woman’s shoulder, steering her off the main thoroughfare. “You took my prize,” I said. “You weren’t going to win the jewelry, Derek,” she said. “I won that. It was mine,” I said. “I’ll give you a quarter to use on a gumball machine when we get back,” she said. I gritted my teeth and started grimly singing, “Toss a coin to your witcher, o valley of plenty, o valley of plenty.”
While this was going on, Pam and Bella exited the Museum of Wonders, ending up closer to the rides section. Both of them were feeling off about what they saw in the Dreamatorium so they sought out anything that might be distracting. They were near the ride area, which seemed like the most standard part of the entire place. There was a Tilt-A-Whirl, a Scrambler, a House of Mirrors, all looking a lot ricketier than even the usual traveling fair. The closest ride was a massive Ferris wheel, creaking as the cars circled around. It jerked with every stop to let more riders on. And, just stepping on to take his turn at the Ferris wheel, was the middle-aged dude with the combover.
Bella and Pam quietly conferred on what to do. “Should I be loud or quiet?” Bella asked. “Let’s let fate decide,” Pam said, pulling a nickel out of her coin purse. She flipped it and it came up tails for loud. Bella started running toward him, yelling, “HEY SIR EXCUSE ME SIR!” She jumped at him, managing to get his attention, along with the attention of everybody else in the Western Hemisphere. She gave him a big grin and he looked at her, blinking with glazed-over eyes. Everyone was staring at her. “Are you having fun? Let’s go on the Ferris wheel together!” she yelled. The operator, a Wizened changeling woman around Pam’s age, if a bit taller, was looking at Bella almost in awe. “There’s so much life in you!” she said. She and the other fairgoers were all staring at Bella and she could hear chatter amongst them as she got on.
Pam, meanwhile, moved over to the changeling running the Ferris wheel and ensnared her in the honeypot of Minnesota Nice conventional talk, asking how long she’d been working there, if she could use a break, if they were treating her right. God bless Pam and her ability to talk about nothing forever. As the car that Bella and combover guy were on lifted up, the operator pulled Pam aside and said, “Listen, let me give you a piece of advice. All of us working here, we’re here ‘cause we wanna be. But if you’re not here ‘cause you wanna be, I’m gonna suggest you try to get out of here pretty quickly.” Pam thanked her and said she needed to round up her friends. “Oh, you’re gonna wanna grab them and haul ass real quick,” the woman said. “Especially your friend up there.”
Speaking of Pam’s friend up there, Bella was being stared at in awe by combover dude, who asked her how she feels so happy. “I always try to feel happy, even when I’m sad, and I’ve been sad a lot lately. I use it as a coping mechanism so I don’t recognize the emotional trauma I’ve been through recently,” Bella chirped. He asked her if it was possible for her to feel happy and she asked him what made him not feel happy. He thought back hard. “I don’t remember,” he said after a long moment. “Well, do you know who you are? What’s your name? Do you like anything special, chocolate or ice cream?” Bella asked. He closed his eyes and thought very hard. “My name is… Jason?” He sounded unsure and Bella continued to ask him about his life, if he could give her any details. He kept thinking as hard as he could and admitted he didn’t remember much about what he liked or didn’t like. He couldn’t remember anything about himself, other than his first name. After a while, Bella said that they needed to figure it out. “You’re going to help me find happy?” He asked. “We can try,” she said. “A lot of people will try to take your happy away from you. It almost happened to me. You don’t want it to happen to you.”
They reached the bottom of the Ferris wheel and the operator told them it was time for them to let some other people get a ride. Bella interlocked her fingers with Jason’s so as to not lose him, and walked him off the ride. She introduced him to Pam, who suggested that they start walking and see if they could find us. Pam, of course, had a bar in her purse, and she handed it over. Bella took it and gave it to Jason, telling him that Pam’s bars always made her happy. He bit into it an the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “This is a good start,” he said.
Pam and Bella met up with Team Gay at the meeting spot, where we were still sniping at each other and I had moved onto “Scarborough Fair.” Bella took the bar and handed it over to Priscilla, the older lady who we had found, but it didn’t seem to have the same effect on her. We were all realizing that the fair was stealing emotions, and the longer we were to stay, the more emotions it would steal from us. If we stayed long enough, we’d end up emotionless husks like the people wandering about.
Back in the freakshow, Dr. Alexander was still very busy taking notes on the vivisectioned creature. He looked up after a long while only to realize that he’d lost sight of Day. When he went looking for Day, he managed to find some taxidermied creatures that he started going over intently, noting the aspects of their biology which didn’t seem to make sense by any medical standard he knew. After about another fifteen minutes of this, he spotted a couple of carnival employees whispering among themselves and pointing at him. One of them, a Blunderboar – the same sort of gorilla creature who snagged Bella and Day back in Arcadia – started making his way toward Dr. Alexander. He didn’t approach at first, he just seemed to be trying to figure out what the good doctor was doing (something that has eluded the entire Autumn Court, to be fair).
After a few minutes, the Blunderboar stepped between Dr. Alexander and the exhibit, only for the doctor to take a step to the left and continue taking notes. “Sir, you need to move along,” the Blunderboar said. “Any reason why? I paid my admission,” Dr. Alexander said. “You’re holding up traffic,” the Blunderboar said. Dr. Alexander lifted his head at that and glanced around. Not only did people seem very easily to be abele to move around him, but there weren’t a huge number in this part of the tent anyway.
“It doesn’t appear that way. I could take a step forward, if you like,” Dr. Alexander said, stepping forward. The Blunderboar attempted to pick him up by the front of his collar, lifting him a few inches off the ground and moving him away from the exhibit. “We don’t want the likes of you around here,” the Blunderboar said. Dr. Alexander held up his lamprey hand and said, “Let go of my shirt. The only reason I am bothering with this farce you call an exhibit is because you’ve saved me a few hours of dissection time. You can leave me to my work and I’ll move along in my own due fashion or… no, that’s really the end of that line of options.”
The guard attempted to walk him toward the exit, but Dr. Alexander whipped himself around his back, grabbing his arm and pulling it behind his back. “As I told you before, I’m busy,” he said. The Blunderboar grunted to the other guard, “Pibbs! Go get backup!”
It was around this time that the rest of us saw the goblin in red and white rush past us toward the entrance, yelling about a rowdy guest in one of the exhibits. “Oh, my God, it’s Day,” I groaned. “Oh, God. Pam, Bella, you stay here with them. Derek, come with me,” Yova said. We darted off in the direction the goblin ran from, seeing a few more Blunderboars start descending on the tent. “Five bucks says Day got his head stuck in something. And I’m not specifying which head,” Yova said. I gave her a look of absolute contempt and said, “You are disgusting. You’re on.”
What we didn’t know until later was that while this was going on, another changeling, a quiet Darkling who was mostly hidden in an outfit of patched rags, had been working for hours to feed the workers at the carnival. We’ll call him Kevin, because that is his name. Kevin had been slinging slop for a long time and stepped out to grab a breath of fresh air, when he heard some chatter among two of the goblin employees who were sitting and having a snack. One asked the other if he’d heard what was going on down at the sideshow. “Apparently some of the customers are, like, standing up for themselves. Weird, right?” Kevin listened to them talk about how long it had been since that happened and placing bets about how long it took security to get things under control.
Curiosity got the best of Kevin, and he made his way over to see what the hullabaloo was about, going through the employee entrance. It was around that time that he spotted a group of several changelings, including me and Yova. We had maneuvered our way through the rather disgusting exhibits and were surprised to find that nothing was on fire, nor in pieces. We arrived to find Dr. Alexander, with a rather firm grip on the Blunderboar as he calmly took notes. Yova had a surprised Pikachu face as she surveyed the scene.
“You owe me five bucks,” I told her. “Yes. Yes, I do,” she agreed, moving forward to try and talk our way out of this miserable situation. “Doctor, as much as I hate to interrupt this tableau, you’ve acquired the attention of the bouncers and we need to leave,” she said. “Also, where’s Day?” I asked. “Yes, we were expecting to see Day here, with his head stuck in something,” Yova said. “Oh, he’s gone. Somewhere,” Dr. Alexander said, looking around the Blunderboar and continuing to try and take notes.
Yova looked over at me and said, “I’ll handle things here, you go and find Day.” “Why do I have to go and find Day?” I asked. “This place is screaming front for snatching people and sending them to Arcadia!” “Derek, please,” Yova said, teeth gritted. “Fine,” I said, “but if I get snatched and pulled back, I’m going to haunt your toilet.” “I’ll wear a mysterious veil to your funeral,” she said dryly.
It was around this time that Kevin hurried over and tried to separate Dr. Alexander from the Blunderboar he had in the hold. “Hey, come on, no violence!” he said, trying to push them apart. He isn’t very strong, so it… didn’t work. “I’m not being violent, I’m being busy. And you’re jostling my pen,” Dr. Alexander said. “Doctor, I understand you’re dedicated to your research, but now is not the time for this,” Yova said. “Then when is?” he asked her. She took a moment to take in a deep breath and press her index fingers against the bridge of her nose. “You know,” she said, “I understand the saying of a day without learning is a wasted day or some such shit, but I’d prefer to live to see another day, so let’s just go and stop distressing this poor man’s friend.”
We finally managed to get Dr. Alexander away from the Blunderboar and beat tracks as a few others were coming in. Kevin seemed to be moving along with us, so I turned to him and said, “Hey, you haven’t seen a big guy around here? Looks like he’s made of stone, loud, obnoxious voice, wearing a Hawaiian shirt?” He seemed very unsure of himself, but said that he hadn’t.
We emerged out of the sideshow tent, with two of our targets in hand, but missing Day. We knew we were not going to leave him in there, so we quickly made our way back to Bella and Pam to regroup and figure out our next move.
And that’s a good enough place to stop for now. Until next time, be safe, and may you never have a shiny snatched from you by a gargantuan Ren Faire reject.
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ssttitdramon · 5 years
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Ruth’s Makeup
Request: Ruth’s away for the day doing some theatre stuff. Meanwhile, Chuck and Auggie discover makeup for the first time. 
-Rules for requests here-
Ruth was running late for the last minute rehearsal of Alice in Wonderland 
Usually, she would’ve been at her school 10 minutes early
But today it seemed like the whole world was falling apart… Ruth couldn’t find her script or her favorite gloss
Finally, she found her script on a chair of the dining room and decided to do without her gloss today
"Okay I’m leaving now, so the two of you better stay out of my room please! Mom should be home later- try not to set the house on fire in the meantime."
As soon as Ruth drove off, Auggie finds Ruth’s clear gloss on the kitchen floor and shows it to Chuck
Chuck quickly takes out the applicator and swipes it across Auggie’s cheek
Auggie complains and furiously rubs his face with the sleeve of his shirt, making his cheek glow
"Just put it back in her room."
"Didn’t she say not to go in?"
Chuck rolls his eyes, takes the gloss and runs upstairs into the "girly cave"
Ruth’s desk was an "organized mess" as Stella likes to say
She had bottles of oil, nail polish, cream and perfume arranged inside the pink top lid of a shoe box on the right of the table
In the middle, a white makeup bag with a variety of blushes, small eyeshadows, and eyeliners spilling out onto the table
Another bag had several tubes of lipstick, foundation and mascara
On the left side of the table were two glass jars, one holding cosmetic cotton pads and the other kept a set of brushes standing upright 
Chuck runs his fingers through the soft brushes 
"Hey Augs, come feel this."
"I don't think Ruth wou-" 
"C’mon just get over here!"
As Auggie felt the brushes, he nearly gets a mouthful of the synthetic bristles Chuck pushes to his face
"Really soft, huh?"
Before Auggie can suggest they leave Ruth’s stuff alone, Chuck focuses in on a coral blush
"Isn't this what they use for zits?"
Auggie looks at it closely and nods with much confidence
Chuck eagerly applies the product over a pimple on his chin
Disappointed by the lack of cover-up and now sporting a pink spot on his chin, Chuck throws his hands up in defeat, "Totally useless, shit is a waste of money!"
Tosses the blush back into the bag, unknowingly cracking the powder inside the case
Chuck then picks up the eyelash curler and holds it up to his face
"This thing looks like a torture device."
"I've seen that in my mom’s bag, I think it’s used to trim your eyelashes."
Wanting to test it, Chuck opens the curler and holds it at the edge of Auggie’s eyelashes
"Dude, stop blinking!"
Accidentally clamps down with force 
"Nah, I don’t think it works anymore, it just bent them.”
Throws the tool down Ruth’s trash can
Auggie looks into the mini white vanity mirror, concerned about his bent eyelashes 
"Dude, I look ridiculous!"
Chuck picks up the first mascara he sees
"This should help straighten them out."
He nearly pokes Auggie’s eye with the black wand
"This is a great way to lose an eye- do you even know what you’re doing?"
"Duh, I saw Ruth try it out on Stella the other day."
Carefully slides the spoolie up Auggie’s eyelashes
"Now you look like you’ve got a black peacock's tail above your eye."
Rolling his eyes, Auggie notices the clips of beauty magazine tips underneath the makeup bags
"Green eyeshadow best suited for brown eyes?"
"This thing?" Chuck shows him the small round shimmering green eyeshadow case 
He opens it, gliding his finger through the creamy eyeshadow and sticks his hand towards Auggie
Auggie quickly elbows his hand out of his face, "I’m not your guinea pig, try it yourself."
Chuck shrugs and wipes the product over his left lid and faces Auggie
"Well? How do I look?"
"Hmm, kinda the same color as the Riddler."
An idea pops into Chuck’s head and asks Auggie to trust him as he grabs the red lipstick
A full-blown argument erupts over the lipstick and it takes a lot of begging for Auggie to let Chuck carry on
Annoyed with his pestering, Auggie finally lets the boy haphazardly slather the makeup across his lips
Satisfied with his work, Chuck takes out a brown eyeliner pencil and draws a sloppy question mark over his forehead
"Riddle me this, Joker! Why does the lady have this much makeup?!" he yells at the top of his lungs
Before Auggie can respond, the boys hear the front door open and close
"Chuckie I’m home!"
It was his mom
The two of them bolt to the restroom, shoving each other away from the sink as they try to wash off the products 
"If Ruth finds out we went through her stuff…"
"She won’t, you clown. Her stuff was already messy to begin with."
They get most of the makeup off by the time Chuck’s mom got upstairs
"Auggie dear… what happened to your eye?"
Auggie looks into the mirror, realizing the mascara had smudged around his eye
"We were uh…"
"I was trying to make him look like a skull, but we realized there wasn’t enough paint." Chuck interrupts with phony smile
Mrs. Steinberg laughs and shakes her head, "You boys are something."
"More like dead if your sist- OW."
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617: "Caesar's Defeat! The Powerful Grizzly Magnum!"
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Basically Caesar: “REEEEEEEEEEEEE, SCIENCE!!!”
Only had time for one episode today but caught a snippet of the preview and it seems like posting for one episode here will fit in terms of the story arc. 
Caesar is down and out, Law has done what he came to do, and Luffy has executed step one of his plan to kick ass and kidnap! Now all he needs is the fantastically badass Usopp to come through with the cuffs and step two will be on the cards!
It’s all a matter of escaping Punk Hazard with Caesar in tow, plus Law, the Strawhats, a bunch of kids and maybe some surviving Minions and the G5 and Smoker and Tashigi and Foxfire and Momonosuke and Brownbeard.
Yeah, I hope Franky has some extra bed rolls hidden away in storage because that is a lot of extra bodies on Sunny.
Sanji will be fine. He worked at Baratie. He’s used to mass catering.
Law Tries Out His Stand Up Material On Vergo
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In other news, Vergo is still alive. I kind of hoped Law might have taken him out but this is One Piece and you guys have always said that Oda sees a future for most of his characters. (Even Wapol. Yes, I am still salty about Wapol.) Smoker was on the ground, breathing hard. Getting fresh air for once, instead of dat tasty tobacco.
Vergo is also still shit-talking. “You broke the gear? There’s no turning back? That’s hysterical.” 
Brave for a guy who was (at that point) in two pieces with a building crumbling rapidly around him. Not to mention the noxious clouds of gas.
Then he used his hands to spring from the ground and attack Law. He was Roomed and doomed in two seconds, chopped into fractions and hung on the railings. (Approaching Nightmare Fuel territory if you think too much about it.)
Vergo totally reminds me of the Black Knight from Monty Python’s Life of Brian. If you’ve never heard of it, he’s basically this dude who keeps getting up and shit-talking his opponents even after the removal of all his limbs. It’s funny. Vergo even made a joke about it. “How will I eat breakfast tomorrow?” Yeah, he almost went full Black Knight there.
Except for the little serious turn when he threatened Law with Doflamingo’s past.
“How dare you, Law? This is an upset. But I know you’re going to regret it. Keep that in mind. You don’t know Joker’s past and that will cost you your life. Upstarts like you can’t hope to take over the world. It’s filled with those who are much stronger. Tell him, Smoker!”
First of all, why was he appealing to Smoker to back him up like a kid in a playground? The brazen cheek of it. As if. I’m glad Smoker blanked him and sparked up a fat Cuban cigar.
Secondly, what is all this about Doflamingo’s past? Why would that matter to Law? I’m trying to think what could possibly affect Law as much as Vergo says and I’m drawing a blank.The only thing that might be a bit meh is if Doflamingo was once a Marine. We already had that twist with Vergo.
At any rate, Law had had enough with Vergo running his mouth, and chopped his head into two pieces.
“Don’t worry about me. Just worry about yourself. This room will explode soon. Goodbye, Vergo the pirate.”
I ain’t bothered about Vergo. That guy is too arrogant for his own good and Law gave him a well-deserved taste of defeat. I just hope Law took Smoker with him.(It’d be hilarious if Law carried Smoker over his shoulder and they ran into Zoro carrying Tashigi over his shoulder. xD)
Speaking of Well-Deserved Tastes of Defeat...
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This guy...
I love a charismatic, melodramatic, total piece of crap villain, but Oda did a great job of making me loathe Caesar here. I think Luffy lamping him square on the chops unhinged him a little. Law destroying the SAD factory and the labs as a result probably finished Caesar off. His arrogance and cruelty was off the charts! I thought Spandam was bad. Caesar makes Spanda look like a playground bully.
I loved how when he realised Law had unleashed merry hell, Caesar’s reaction was, “Damn! Who caused that? I bet it was Law. What is Vergo doing? You Strawhats RUINED MY PARADISE!”
His paradise. Wow, that sure does give you a little peek into this dude’s mind. 
And it gets better. 
Caesar had a last-ditch plan to defeat Luffy. He called his Minions in the Secret Room. “R-Building, can you hear me? Secret Room, come in! Open the air vents now! Let Shinokuni flow into this room.”
The Minions, understandably, were reticent to do this because they are the kind of people who, like the Strawhats, look after their own. They asked, “but wouldn’t it kill our guys?”
Caesar was like, “Well, I’m a gas man. I’m not gonna die. You’re just guinea pigs. No one would care if hundreds of you died. You are just the dregs of society! What are you doing? Hurry up. I can find replacements for you fools so easily.”
Uh oh. 
The mask came off. Caesar must have been so riled that he didn’t care if everyone saw his true nature. The poor, deluded Minions still clung to their vision of Caesar as their benevolent Master, their saviour.
“Oh, the Master is trying to fool the enemies. He must have a plan to do with the gas. It would hurt him to know we suspected him.”
Hurt him? Mate, Caesar has no feelings to be hurt. He has an ego the size of Laboon. That’s not the same thing.
So, of course the Minions pulled the lever. Shinokuni flowed into the room. And I had a facepalm moment at those poor, brainwashed Minions.
Caesar Does A Moria
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“Yes! About time,” Caesar shouted. “Dregs shouldn’t think. Now, become my power, Shinokuni. Look, Strawhat! Look at his amazing appearance. This is my scientific power. Through this experiment, two countries have already expressed interest in the weapon. They are both quite peaceful but when humans get serious about defending themselves, they’ll look for any way possible to kill their enemies. Everybody needs me! I’ll spread weapons all over the world and become King of the Land of Death.”
There are a couple of things to unpack here.
First of all, Caesar is completely demented. I mean, that was always obvious. But that ambition of his is twisted and terrifying. Worse, that Doflamingo gave him the traction to actually make it happen.
Secondly, he’s insane but he’s not stupid. Caesar has an eye for business and is, weirdly, able to charm people into believing his bullshit. He also knows the darker side of human nature and how to exploit it, like he has done with those peaceful islands. He is also smug in the knowledge that big shots in governments everywhere will always want him in their corner, so there will always be a place for someone like him. That was a definite Art Mirroring Life moment right there. Harsh but true, I guess. The guy who first split the atom and invented the atomic bomb was a hot commodity, right?
Third, Caesar basically did a Gekko Moria. Caesar took it a step further because he actually gleefully killed all his Minions. Moria just took the shadows back from already dead bodies. This was the logical conclusion of Caesar seeing other people as objects or commodities to be manipulated, used or destroyed as he sees fit. The way he happily killed them all was just nasty.  “It’s amazing, if I do say so myself. Look at how fast it acts on their nerves. It’s almost an art!” And when they begged him to stop, “I am your saviour and I can make efficient use of you good-for-nothings. You are just crumbs. You should not stand against your Master. Die like dogs!”
Crumbs. Dogs. Guinea pigs. Caesar always uses dehumanising language on his poor Minions. And everyone else for that matter. He really is a psychotic, nasty piece of work. If this guy is working for Doflamingo, I cannot wait to see what a horrible bastard Doflamingo turns out to be. xD
Caesar’s Off The Deep End Behaviour and his treatment of his own people caused Luffy to have the veiniest, super frown I have seen on his face so far. Luffy does not like people who betray and used their own crew/soldiers/comrades. 
Luffy said to Momo, “Look after Brownbeard.” Then ran in the opposite direction. Of course, I knew Luffy was just looking to gain some distance. Caesar, of course, mistook it for Luffy chickening out all of a sudden.
There was one person who knew with absolute certainty that this was not the case.
Usopp Was Awesome Here
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Can I just talk for a moment about how awesome Usopp was here?
All through this arc, he’s been ridiculously brave. He volunteered to split up with Brook and Foxfire so he could work on his own to find the Sea Prism Stone cuffs for Luffy. He was creeping round the labs on his own and when he found the Secret Room, he did not run upon being confronted with a full squad of Minions. He simply used his smarts to evade capture. Because he knew there was something in there of value and Luffy needed his help. 
When the Minions saw Caesar’s true nature over the DDM feed and were finally like, “OMG this guy is awful.” Usopp just walked up to them and said, “I know you’re all broken hearted here but could I sit in that control seat for a second? I wanna save my friends from the gas.”
See that? Usopp’s loyalty to his friends trumps all sense of fear. 
When the Minions tried to shake Usopp by saying, “Yeah, you’ll never escape because your Captain just cut and run. He left you guys behind.“ Usopp was Not Having One Bit Of It. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa... Are you dissing our captain right in front of me? If he were the kind of person who’d betray us, this whole thing would’ve been much easier for me. I would’ve just run away with my tail between my legs. But he never, ever stops believing in us. So we have no choice but to support him. We pledged to live up to his expectations as long as we can breathe!”
There you have it. Right from the horse’s mouth. Luffy’s faith in his crew inspires them to greater heights. And in Usopp, this is bravery. Absolutely beautiful. 
And when the Minions said, “But what can we do? We can’t beat such a powerful man?” (Referring to Caesar) Usopp replied, “Yes, you can. You guys should just believe in our Captain. Caesar is the type of person that Luffy hates the most. Luffy won’t forgive Caesar.”
Usopp knows Luffy pretty well.
That Grizzly Magnum was really something else. I was expecting it to take out Caesar straight awayt but I liked that it didn’t. Caesar is the kind of villain who needs to have his pride thoroughly broken and to taste bitter, bitter defeat. If not, he’ll just tank the hit, pick himself up again and it’s back to his same old tricks.
The best portrayal of that was when Caesar was wrestling with Luffy, the Shinokuni slowly turning his hands to white powder, and he screamed, “Kneel before my power!”
Luffy will never kneel to anyone. Now, I’m not sure what those pulses of power were that drove Caesar back (Conqueror’s Haki?) but Luffy’s hit finally landed and, in a perfect moment of symbolism, Caesar’s self-made crown shattered.
He is no longer the tyrannical ruler of Punk Hazard. Caesar’s reign has come to an end.
And I can’t wait to see what happens next, because Doflamingo sent one of his lackeys to help him out. 
The plot chickens.
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Well, you’re gonna kidnap him, so that might be a tough one to get round.
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raintherainywriter · 6 years
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Prompt #37: "Someone let this girl know I'm interested"
They were in the White Wyrm.
Betty never thought that one day she'd be able to call the White Wyrm "her home", but after the latest events, it was the only truth she could adhere to.
She was there with Jughead, at first; she had gone there to see him as a surprise and he had received her with a bright and honest smile.
However, it was Saturday afternoon; the bar was crowded with bikers who laughed, chatted, danced or simply got drunk with pride. Toni was at the bar, so she was really busy. You could see the little girl with pink curls swimming from one side of the bar to the other, her eyes dancing from face to face, attentive.
The neon lights that illuminated the site caressed Jughead's skin, giving it a dark air, mixing the suggestive red with the disturbed black. The characteristic women of Jughead seemed to fade under the spotlight, highlighting her cheekbones. It seemed to be carved in a specific type of wood.
Betty was sitting in front of the bar, drinking something. He preferred not to ask what, although it was certainly not water. She had her back to the rest of the people there, oblivious to the noise, despite the fact that she was forced to raise her voice so that she could talk to Jughead or Toni.
"Hey pretty, did you come alone?" Someone asked behind her. Betty frowned, turning to find the subject.
A boy, around her age, smiled from her back. A leather jacket, like hers, covered his shoulders. A sarcastic smile danced on his lips, with impudence. His hair was short and blond.
"Actually I came with ..." She began to say, looking for Jughead; her gaze bounced on the people who occupied the premises. She managed to locate some familiar faces: Fangs and Sweet Pea playing pool, a friend of Toni (who she frankly knew only by sight and the occasional isolated greeting) and some partners of Jughead. But no trace of her boyfriend, who surely would've gone to talk to someone, or even simply to the bathroom. He knew that Betty was comfortable and safe with Toni, who despite being busy with the drinks, was fully aware of the scenario that was developing between Betty and the boy, who awaited his response.
"Well ... Yes, at first I came with someone, but he must have gone to the bathroom" Betty replied, with a simple smile.
Although her logic told her that Jughead was probably busy with something, the instinct required her to go and look for him. Although, maybe (and only maybe) her desperation to find the boy with clear and soft eyes was no more than an excuse to escape the situation, which increasingly seemed more uncomfortable.
Betty looked over the boy, looking for her boyfriend's iconic hat.
"Well ..." another shark smile threatened to break his face "Somebody let this beautiful girl know that I'm interested ... More than interested in accompanying her to a calmer place ..." His elusive hand slipped by her thigh, ascending. A grimace of disgust made her frown, reluctantly removing the stranger's hand, which, sticky, insisted.
While Betty insisted on removing the boy's hands from her body, Toni crossed the bar and shoved the boy away. He took a step back, with another of his vicious smiles that swore nothing good.
"Leave her alone, dude" Toni demanded, standing in front of Betty as a wall, drawing the attention of Sweet Pea and Fangs, who exchanged glances with Toni. A silent conversation:
'Should we call Jughead? 'Their eyes said.
'Not yet' Said hers.
"Hey, honey, don't get jealous ... Blondies are my type, that's all," the boy joked.
Toni raised an eyebrow, defiantly, with a sharp look.
"Look, sweet cheeks, you're in my bar and I don't want any trouble, so leave my friend alone before they kick you out." Toni offered, with a threatening tone, crossing her arms over her chest, resting all her weight on one of the legs.
The boy reached out and swatted Toni away. A couple of strands fell on her face, tangled in her eyelashes. Betty caught Toni, holding her before she tripped and fell to the ground.
Betty noticed activity a couple of people ago. Sweet Pea had stepped forward, his face unclenched and his fists clenched. Fangs held him back, his hand extended over his chest as a barrier. Fangs gave Toni a single look. She nodded.
"Jughead! Jughead come, we need you here !!" Sweet Pea called, raising his voice.
It felt like the whole bar went silent. Everyone looked at Jughead's office, where he went when he was done with everyone, too tired or just needed a break. Everyone looked at the door, except the boy, who kept bothering Betty.
They waited a few seconds, but nobody answered, nobody appeared by the door.
"FORSYTHE PENDLETON JONES III, MOVE YOUR ASS HERE RIGHT NOW" Toni demanded, a cold and firm tone that didn't give opportunity to doubt. It was as if the music died all at once, the whole bar fell silent when the girl with the pink curls uttered the full name of Jughead.
"Beautiful, I do not know who you're trying to call, but I'm starting to get tired ..." The boy said, his voice threatening. His hands gripped Betty's waist, making her release difficult. Betty shifted uncomfortably.
"Get rid of your dirty hands, shitty pig" demanded a voice behind him. A sly smile was drawn on the thin lips of Toni.
Actually, the situation would have been easily resolved, but they knew that Jughead would want to smash that bastard's face himself.
When the boy turned around, he found a tall boy, followed by another of his height and an even taller one: Jughead, Fangs and Sweet Pea.
Jughead sent a quick glance to Betty and Toni, asking with the change of lights in his irises if they were okay. Both nodded.
"And you are?" Asked the annoying guest, a vacillated look in his eyes. Jughead gritted his teeth, a muscle trembling beneath his skin.
"Jughead Jones, king of the serpents" Sentenced Jughead. Something in her boyfriend's cold, sharp voice made Betty run a chill down her spine.
The guest remained silent, his mocking smile erased little by little.
"By the way, this is for Toni" he said, with a sweet tone, striking a severe fist in his stomach.
The boy protested, bowing because of the pain. "This is for bothering the queen of the serpents" he added, this time attacking with a knee in the mouth. The boy raised his face with the impact. "And this is for my girlfriend, asshole," he sentenced, throwing a final and deadly punch. A punch that Betty recognized from the self-defense lessons that Sweet Pea and she had, very much against Jughead's will. It was a clean and simple, but effective punch: the arm raised at a ninety degree angle, fist away from the face, shoulder covering the cheek. The fist leaves you in shock half a second.
The blood was released from the mouth of the blond boy, who was crying in his partner's arms.
Jughead craned his neck to one side and the other, emitting a slight crunch. He cast one last glance at the boy before moving past him and sliding his arm around Betty's shoulders, who hugged him around the waist. Sweet Pea gave the order to throw him out of the bar, and the activity returned to the premises.
Jughead Jones ... Always to the rescue.
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scarecrowandmrking · 5 years
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Gotta Raise A little Hell
  I started dancing at The Dive when I was just 16 years old. It beat staying at home, getting my ass beat by my dad when he got drunk and listening to my mom making excuses as to why she had married such a worthless dirt bag. This isn’t one of those stories about how I was destroyed by my circumstances, turned to drugs, went on to live a life of crime. Truth is, I work damn hard to get where I am in the world. At 24, I have a place of my own, a nice car, all the spare cash it took to keep me in nice clothes and also working my way through college.   The owner of the place, Mo, was a real piece of work. Always talking trash about the place and the girls who worked there, but he had your back when the chips were down. I can’t say the same for some of the chicks I worked with. Stripping was a business. At the end of the day, we were all selling a product and trying to make sure we got our piece of the pie. You had to be nice and go along to get along, if you knew what was best for you. It’s not good to have too many enemies around here. But, deep down, you couldn’t keep from having your favorite girls. There were the ones you looked up to. The ones you watched every night do their thing, wishing you could dance the way they did. Make the kind of money they did. Then there were the girls who would cut you, but you envied how nobody ever fucked them over. And if anyone even tried, they would end of walking away with a limp.   I was about fifteen minutes late to the club, which got me an ass chewing by Mo.   “You know how many bitches want to work here? Get your shit worked out.” I rolled my eyes, moving past Mo towards the back of the club. Something caught my eye as I did so, and I turned my head towards the stage.   My mouth dropped.   Sitting at the front of the club, long legs stretched out before him and a pair of shades obscuring his eyes, was the actor Mark Pellegrino. I fought back a squeal of excitement. Lucifer was my favorite character on Supernatural. Mark played him with such a sexy, seductive flair. My eyes roamed over his long, muscular body. He was decked out in a nice pair of jeans and a black t shirt, a gray jacket over that.   His attention was fixed on the stage. I felt a faint twinge of jealousy as my gaze wandered to the tall, ebony beauty dancing to a fast beat. Perfect breasts bounced, pert nipples grazing the pole as Shandra went through her routine. I have always liked the dancer, admired her grace and way with the patrons. Tonight, she had chosen a school girl ensemble, complete with pig tales and ruler. As I watched, she mimed smacking Mark on top of the head with the ruler, giving him a sly smile.   “Play nice,” he tells her, his voice low and husky. The ultimate daddy dom voice. I felt myself starting to get wet.   I turned to Mo. “Tell him to meet me backstage.”   The owner of the club raises an eyebrow at me. I’ve never asked him for anything before. I could tell he found the idea interesting.   “You know the rules,” he warns me. I think he knows I won’t be obeying them tonight. But he’s long since realized to give a little on some things. Keep the peace with the girls.   I nod. Then turn and run through the door that leads into the back of the place.   When I get in the changing room, some of the dancers try to catch my attention. Everyone is eager to tell me the latest gossip, who was fucking who, who had dropped money on this or that, where everyone was when they weren’t working their ass off on the pole. People outside the life never got how hard it was to be a performer. How difficult it was to be in the life and still do the things you wanted to when you were off, body tired and just wanting some good sleep with nobody pawing at you or jerking off onto the floor.   I ignored everyone, running to my stuff and grabbing my she devil costume, complete with horns. The flimsy piece left little to the imagination, having a mostly open chest and being entirely crotch less. I went over to my make up station and applied some heavy red eye shadow and ruby lipstick. My mind was already going through the moves I would be making a couple of minutes from now. The music I wanted. Just how far I intended to go with all of this. I knew Mo would respect my decision. He didn’t mind having a stripping 16 year old in his club years ago, so I understood that his grasp of the law wasn’t exactly rock solid anyway.   The VIP room in the Dive consisted of a round room with a low ceiling, it's only furniture a heart shaped couch pushed up against the wall. A pole had been erected in front of the couch, kept wiped down and cleaned by one of the maintenance dudes, who’s job I never envied.   Mark was waiting for me on the couch when I came into the room. He’d tucked his shades into his jacket pocket. A crooked grim lit up his face when he saw what I was wearing. I could tell that he appreciated the reference.   “What’s your name, kitten?”   I ignored him, waiting on the music to start. A second later, the first cords to Dorothy’s Raise Hell came in over the speakers.
Gotta raise a little hell Young blood, run like a river Young blood, never get chained Young blood, heaven need a sinner You can't raise hell with a saint Young blood, came to start a riot Don't care what your old man say Young blood, heaven hate a sinner But we gonna raise hell anyway
  I felt the music work it’s way into my body, into my bones. I kept my eyes on Mark, loving how his gaze moved over my writhing body, taking in my full, heavy breasts as they swayed to the rhythm. My long black hair, streaked with blue, swept back over my shoulders and flowed down my back. I spread my legs on the bar, using my hands to hold myself in the air. I had been doing this since I was a teenager. It was as easy as breathing to me now. I knew when to dismount, draw out the routine for the maximum effect.   I could tell that the routine was working. There was a definite bulge in the actor’s jeans when I had finished.   As the music stopped, I moved to straddle Mark.   “Easy there,” he stiffened as my weight came down upon him, my hands reaching out to stroke his shoulders. “I don’t think this is allowed.”   “I’m the Devil,” I say, kissing his cheek. “Fuck the rules.”   I was surprised when Mark gave me a big, open mouthed kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth. I felt my pussy clench instinctively. Fuck, his body felt so damn big and good between my hands. I could feel his erection rubbing against my bare pussy through his jeans. I rocked against him a little, rewarded when he moaned into my mouth.   I pulled away, taking a moment to enjoy the look of lust on his face. He had a raw, wonderfully nasty about him when he was turned on. Like he wanted to bend you over his knee and do all sorts of terrible things to you that would leave you raw and satisfied when he was done. I let my thoughts wander to just what those things might be as I pulled his shirt up, running kisses down his broad chest while at the same time unbuckling his jeans.   Mark closed his eyes and let out a deep, guttural moan as I took his entire length into my mouth, all the way down to his balls. I kept things slow at first, working him up as I learned what he liked and how fast he liked it. I reached under and played with his balls. My tongue moved over the top of his glans, swirling in a circle around the very sensitive tip. I wanted to swallow his nut. I never did things like that. But, with this sexy as hell man sitting here, cock in my face, I wanted nothing more but to deep throat him as hard as I could until he filled my belly with his seed.   A second later, another need pushed its way into my thoughts. It had been around 14 days since my last period. That special window when nature made sure things happened. Maybe that was another reason my pussy was so hot and wet. Why I was so close to orgasm, when his cock wasn’t even in me yet. I got on top of him again, not giving him much time to react before I took his cock in my hands and moved him to my wet opening.   “Please,” he groaned, head thrown back, eyes only partly open.   I struggled to get the head of his cock in me. He was bigger than any partner I had before, but I loved the soreness his cock made as he stretched me to my breaking point. I moved into three slow, deep thrusts, enjoying the long orgasm that rippled through my body. I whispered his name against his chest, hiding my face there. It was so intimate, having an actual climax in front of someone for the first time. How many guys had not even been able to make me cum?    And yet he had done it without even trying.   Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.   Mark grabbed my ass, holding me still so that he could pound the fuck out of my dripping cunt. I grabbed his shoulders and hung on, begging him to go faster, harder. I couldn’t get enough of him. The scent and taste and feel of him. He was like an addiction I could see myself giving up everything for. I cried out, bit him, kissed his neck. There was something so freeing about this experience. About taking charge and fucking who I wanted to. Being the aggressor in a world where I was always treated like the prize.   I could tell when he was about to come, I felt a deep thrill go through me as I leaned back and took in the sight of his teeth clenching, his eyes squeezed shut. Most guys looked ugly when they came. But not him.   “Fuck,” I heard him blurt out a moment before I felt the warm spurts in my pussy. I groaned. God, he could really fill a girl up in more ways than one. I ran my fingers through his hair, soothing him as he finished coming inside of me. His body still shuddered, but his breath was slowly coming back to normal.   He looked up at me, the sly smile back on his face.   “You're good at breaking the rules.”   My mind drifted to how much enjoyment I would have jerking off with his cum later. I could already feel the gooey slick dribbling down my legs and turning me on again.   “You have no idea,” I replied, kissing him on the cheek.
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muchadoaboutm · 6 years
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So I'm gonna talk about Bat Out of Hell the musical bc I went to see it yesterday and I am in love. I’m going through it v. incoherently one song at a time with random interjections, so the actual thing is under a cut bc despite appearances I’m not that cruel
The theatre was packed for one thing. It was mostly people who wanted to see it one last time before it closes next week, but I'm sure I wasn't the only person seeing it for the first time. And the thing I love most about seeing something with people who already know it is how they react. You feel the person next to you tense up before the bad thing happens, they're the first to laugh, you can hear them start to him along and then realise where they are and stop. It's a little magic I think, and I want so badly to see it again and I CAN'T. because it closes in less than a week.
It started gradually which I wasn't expecting, and then all of a sudden the lights went down, the spot light came on, and it was love death and the american guitar times one hundred. And the the sound filled the space---i didn't know you could hear like that. All revved up with no place to go went straight through me, and this is a song that is already incredible
There were lights and there was sound everywhere and it was fucking electrifying and I wanted to fight someone. I stg I've never felt so fucking alive as I did for that six minutes
And oh my fucking god jordan Luke gage's voice--i die
Also, strat looked so fucking outraged when raven took his top
And who needs the young with that one note that went on forever and how do you even hold a note that long? Also??? Sharon sexton????? god
Out of the frying pan? God guys. Damn but that was fucking fun-kinda creepy with the kidnapping talk but at this point I'm like 98% sure they're taking the piss (is that a type of song I like now? Friends make fun of guy who's sure he's in love?) And the choreography?
Two out of three, no lie I think I might be in love with zahara
Paradise by the dashboard light fucking traumatised me with those pink pants-never going to recover. But the commentator just being there, and all the backing dancers, and Sloane and falco in that fucking car. And raven pushing it off stage? And the orchestra members just kind of emerging after?
Strat you cannot just go in her room and hover over her, it's fucking creepy. Seriously dude. And raven-a duet is not the right way to respond to your crush randomly turning up while you're sleeping. Also I adore making love out of nothing at all but guys?? Really? The line about pickup lines though. The entire audience laughed at strat's on a hot summer night but bc seriously? No one in their right mind immediately has a response to that-
And then it was bat out of hell and the bike. The fucking bike.I was on a actual high and then the bike exploded and I stg I gasped out loud. Like I knew it was coming and all, but still. It fucking exploded. And the lights came up and they were still clearing his body off the stage
I'm gonna talk about the stage now, because oh my god. I've never seen a stage like it. There was an actual pool of water in the rocks, and there were stairs, and there were other little stages about which could also be screens, and whole set pieces just moved out to create different places. And they did a live feed from one stage to the screen at a couple if points, but you could see the camera man which was just incredibly cool. And have I mentioned the bikes?
Back from the interval it goes straight into in the land of the pig and there's a fucking cage, and the lost are in orange jumpsuits, and someone's being fucking electrocuted, and someone else is being drowned and fuck but that was disturbing and horrific. And there's people strung up from the ceiling hanging over the cage and zahara tells them strat is dead and my heart broke
And then it was heaven can wait and that was on screen so the main stage I'm pretty certain still had the lost on it. And damn Christina Bennington can sing. It was celestial. And the whole drawing on her arms thing? The most accurate representation of a teenage girl imo (if only bc I've been known to do that exact thing)
And then it was objects in the rear view mirror and I almost started crying because I never really listened to it before I guess? Not properly anyway because it hit me like a train.
Strat when he just woke up and he was rambling and feverish and tink was there the whole time, and I can't even fathom how heartbreaking it must be for tink, to love so much and for it to never be enough. Like I genuinely can't blame him for wanting raven gone-shes taken his best friend and almost got him killed and he still loves her.
And for crying out loud will haunt me forever. It was so desperate and there was so much longing and I felt it in my bones.
So you took the words out of my mouth with the lost realising strat's alive, and the return of his wolf line, and the wedding, and the tossing of the bouquet and I just loved the whole sequence so much
I'm honestly glad tink interrupted strat and raven before things got too heated bc honestly there's only so far you can go on stage, but then of course we had tink suddenly speaking up, and I'm not allowed to love, and you suddenly understand so much more about him. Like he was frozen younger right, and so he can never feel equal really, and he doesn't let himself show any emotion (the lost do show emotion so I think this is tink trying to force himself to appear older but I could be wrong).
What part of my body hurts the most also broke me bc its falco just realising everything he's lost (is he holding a photo album?) And I think for a moment he thinks sloane's come back, and then she leaves all over again, and he's lost everything and I just-----
And then you've got tink come to make a deal, and you can kind of see how young he really is, and how in many ways he's very naive.
Can we talk about dead ringer for love? That song-god that song is something else. And it's all so fucking jubilant and as an audience, you know something they don't, bc you know it's all about to go to shit. And then of course falco arrives and tells everyone what tink's done, everything happens at once and then tink's been shot and everything stops.
And strat makes raven leave, because of course he does, because tinks lying on the floor with a gunshot would and her father fired the gun.
I think it's important here that strat uses the word soulmate, because we only really see that word in a romantic sense, but here it means something so much deeper, and I'm crying again because of course I am. And rock and roll dreams come through, the song that we know was their song and
And then we're looking at falco and raven, and you can see just how intensely she blames him, and for once he doesn't know what to do, and despite all his efforts he's still do very alone.
Six months later. Ravens pretty obviously still broken, and the strat comes in, creeping though her window and he speaks and I think she thinks she's dreaming (it kinda mirrors for crying out loud I guess, in that she becomes coherent when she realises he's real, idk). And it's all coming back to me now is a song I adore, and strat actually kneels in front of her which seems pretty damn symbolic, and they still aren't toughing. I don't think they actually touched until flavour came in and raven had to stop strat climbing out of the window again, and then it was Sloane's verse and there were many many tender embraces which made me very happy.
I'd do anything love always drags a bit just the song (it's 10 minutes long and I have a short attention span) but I didn't find it dragged at all on stage. There was a big laugh before the song at raven's "what about when I'm 38, or 48, or *horror* 49" and a pause during the song after screwing around but then strat replied and all was right in the world. There was a heart which was on fire over the stage
Bat out of hell was the song for bows, and then it was over and I stg my legs were shaking during the ovation
Anyway it was wonderful, and I'm in love, and I'm sorry this is so long but I had to write it all down
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lumiereswig · 6 years
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Please do the ENTIRETY of Forgotten! Hahaha I’m joking, pick your favorite part because that fic is v long 😍
happily, this gonna get l o n g
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“The ball was flawless. In the garden, the roses continued to reach to the sky, and the storm brushed away; the lights shut off in the palace, one by one, and the music faded to silence. The prince went to bed with one or two or three pretty women he wouldn’t care for by the next day. Up in his room, Lumiere popped open a bottle of champagne.”
I set the opening to take place almost immediately after “Lit By The Sun,” though this time showing the evening Lumiere and Plumette never got—the stolen croquembouche up in their bedroom, the sharing of champagne among the servants. In the original timeline, obvs they didn’t get that—they got fire and feathers instead—but yeah. I am totally alluding to my own goddamn fics.
Plumette, lighting the candles by the bed, grinned at him over the flames. He laughed and raised his glass.
It’s not a lumiereswig post if there’s not a fucking fire reference.
“He’s turning just like his father—the prince’s father was like this, too,” Mrs. Potts explains to the musicians, who know nothing about the palace or its politics. They nod and move closer to each other on the bed. “We don’t know what he’d do without us. He’ll be fine, though; we try not to intervene. D’you only have wine up here, Lumiere? I could use a cup of tea.”
Foreshadowing of future bullshit, and also reminding the readers that Garderobe and Cadenza WERE NOT PART OF THIS PALACE-POLITICS SHIT. They did not deserve to be cursed!! fuck you agathe!!!! #justiceforgarderenza2k18
“If you cannot take a little sparkling wine, get yourself to bed, grandmother,” laughs Lumiere, and she swipes at his arms and makes him laugh. He eases into a seat between Cogsworth and Plumette and throws his arms around them.
Really trying to remind everyone how fucking close the staff is. The fam. Also, fuck you bill condon for not letting lumiere hug cogsworth every .3 seconds
“Think how long it has been!” he says. “Forty years for you, Cogsworth, but most of my life for mine. Why, I came here as a teenager—imagine me, only a little older than Chip! Fresh out of Paris and still reeking of the apothecary shop.” He grimaces, thinking of his father’s dusty store in a side-street of the city. He had fled, then, looking for the glamor his missed; in his room in Paris he had practiced dance steps, reveled in fashion, adopted the graceful movements of the court as rebellion against the bourgeois facts of an ordinary existence. He had come to this palace, and he had lit into life; dancing and feasting and glowing like gold made Lumiere’s heart sing.
EYYYY IT’S A HEADCANON I TOTALLY MADE UP
but tbh it makes sense to me (and has always made sense to me) that for all his glamor-gold, courtiers-and-candelabras bullshit, lumiere is not from an upper crust background. he’s too extra to have been born to it. That level of golden eyeliner and tequila has to be aspired to.
“We met in this palace, do you remember, mon trésor?” Plumette is close in his arms; her scent—fresh and light, like candy and macarons—right beside him. “I was only fourteen, and I loved you right away.”
“I loved you before I met you,” murmurs Lumiere. “I could never forget.”
Lots more foreshadowing, and also backshadowing. Gotta remind the idiots in the audience which motherfuckers in this story are in love.
The next day is their day off. It is their one day off in the year.
honestly this makes no sense (one day off a year???) but it’s adam. pre-curse adam. i can write him to get away with pretty much any bullshit and be like “””*shrug* uhhh he’s a beast, dudes, of course he banned puppies and kittens from the palace and hates daisies and sunshine”“
also tbh i hate the whole adam dialogue sequence, it’s really badly written
Adam stands in the lonely, empty halls. If he stands in the tower, he can see them weaving their way through the forest and down to the village, to spend their day in the company of each other, in Lumiere and Plumette’s case, or with loved ones, in the case of Mrs. Potts. No matter what, all the servants have each other. And Adam has nobody.
casual evermore references whenever we can’t get in a flame pun
….after all, at least when he yelled they looked at him.
someone told me this line broke them and i am forever pleased. yes mofos!!! relish my very slipshod, mostly shite grasp of the english language!!!!! revel in my poor grasp of human psychology!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Lumiere! The night grows old.”
 The crone grows young.
to make up for the shit in the previous chapter, I really enjoy this bit. the whole bashing-between-the-palace-and-the-village nonsense just makes me happy.
Belle wakes up to a jolt in the road, and the rough wool blanket on her face, and the smell of cheese and paint and horse and wind clinging to her skin. She rubs her eyes and tries to wipe away the sleep. They’re in the wagon, again, and Maurice is hunched up in the bench, encouraging Philippe to trot faster. The contents of Belle’s entire life are jammed in around her, a moving nest of drawings and gear-boxes and packets of cabbage-seed.
aaand we’re with belle. I had to rewrite this chapter about five million times because it wasn’t working—I had planned it out too much in advance, you know, and was just like regurgitating the writing rather than writing it—but I’m happy with the textural detail of this bit. Again, sometimes it pays to use the words around what you’re going for rather than the literal sensation; in this case, cheese and paint and horse and wind, and that rough wool blanket. Home, but also chill, and travel, and being uncomfortable, and the 18th century equivalent of going on a road trip and eating crackers in the backseat while dad’s up front and the crackers making the seat all gritty and reading books in the light of the passing streetlamps, ya feel?
Lilles, Reims, Amiens
i don’t understand french geography
A tiny, delicate gesture from his long fingers; it is a surprisingly sophisticated movement for a man in a yellow peasant’s vest, with candle wax creased in the dirt between his fingernails.
this whole chapter is slightly hard to read because it’s clearly trying too hard, but i hope i got across (or at least, whacked you across the forehead with) the bits i felt were important: lumiere’s current emptiness, but the last imprints of who he ought to be hanging around. i also tend to mention the peasant’s vest too many fucking times, just because the image of lumiere wearing anything that’s not satin & silk is fucking devestating. also, it will be important later, and i need yall to remember that LUMIERE DOESNT LOOK LIKE HE NORMALLY LOOKS
“I am nothing now,” says the man, in a flash of vehemence so sharp it is like seeing a flame in the middle of the forest. He looks up to her—his face broad, and white; and it is an empty face, and beyond the fire in his words there is nothing there at all. It is as if someone washed out all his color, and left him only with his yellow vest.  
you can tell, again, this is a lumiereswig fic because suddenly the language is all about fires and flashing and flickers and flames and there’s probably going to be a reference to the sun fucking setting at some point
also, honestly, this was hard to write because i was seeing it as a fucking movie in my head, and transcribing ‘ewan mcgregor lies on a village stoop looking fucking dismal’ is not what literary writing is made of
He welcomes her to the stoop with the flick of a wrist and a tiny nod with the pipe,
just to remind everyone once a-fucking-gain, Lumiere Is Not Normal, And You Can Tell Because He’s Not Being Very Welcoming. like honestly if you don’t say hello by doing a song and dance what the fuck are you doing
“I knew someone once who treasured books that way as well,” he says, and a smile drifts across his face, homeless. Something in him is sparking up at the story: dim, and faint, but laughing. “He once made me read the whole Odyssey—”
ok yes thank god the fic is finally getting good again
Sorceresses turning people to pigs, and the lily-eaters forgetting their homes, and Penelope undoing the days until her husband returns
ON. THE FUCKING. NOSE
also if i make a literary reference in a fic i am almost 100% of the time trying to make an obvious as fuck connection between the two
Deeply, deeply frightened. Not of the man on the stoop—she has never seen anyone more harmless, to be quite honest; he is such an empty man, with such silent, lifeless limbs—but of the thing inside his eyes when he speaks of his past. It is Other—a thing not rooted in a Parisian background, or the empty face, or the subdued soul. It is a large streak of gray inside the man’s blue eyes, a gray empty and unnatural and as hollow as cold ice. Staring at his eyes, Belle finds herself clutching her arms with fear.
ahhhh fuck subtlty has gone totally out the window. yall are kind and see what i was going for, but i swear this could be better done if i knew shit
It is obvious to Belle that this is a practiced ritual, the sharing of the secret wine.
in retrospect this fic would be sadder if cogsworth or lumiere weren’t friends, but uhh…i just couldnt bring myself to it.
“Oh là là, he acts as if the French accent is difficult,” says Lumiere, puffing smoke….
LIKE YOU CAN SPEAK FRENCH ANYWAY, YOU SCOTTISH DIPSHIT.
“Get off my stoop!” yells the woman. “D’you have wine down there, Lumiere?“
“If you cannot take a little cheap wine, get yourself to bed, grandmother,” calls Lumiere.
and that’s called taking yourself too seriously and referencing your own fic from a few chapters ago
“Mrs. Potts, the crockery-man’s wife,” says Lumiere, and takes a large gulp of the wine. “I barely know her. Thank God.”
PROBABLY THE BEST LINE IN THIS FIC SO FAR. fucking love the simplicity that does so much more than every labored reference to emtpy fucking limbs or colorless eyes beforehands. one simple line and we’re all fucking realizing THE EXTENT OF ALL THIS SHIT
i gotta head off now but i’ll do the rest later tonight
[send me one of my fics (or a bit from a fic) and i’ll do director’s commentary on it—ask here]
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