#[ with bonus pun ]

[vyibunni]

this moment really reminded me of my tav <3 dialogue is from the video "turning random lines of action into characters" by Drawfee Show on youtube, modified a bit to be more british lol

+ bonus

[queer-in-a-cornfield]

Some of us on the discord were discussing what Dewey would be like as an adult yesterday, prompting this little fic (1325 words) based on my hc that Dewey would become a stage actor

Dewey walks down the busy streets of New York, humming some vocal warmups. While he appears as calm and collected as he ever does, his mind is racing a mile a minute.

Today was his Broadway debut, and he was equal parts excited and nervous. He’d done many a show in the past but those were different. This was BROADWAY, the gold standard of theatre. Sure, this wasn’t a principal role or anything, he was just replacing a departing ensemble member, but still! A Broadway debut is a Broadway debut. It’s a big day, and he’s freaking out a little.

He rounds the corner of the theatre and opens the stage door, making a pit stop to check in for the day and readjust his bag. He nearly drops his coffee but manages to set it down to adjust his grip before continuing on to his dressing room.

He swings the door open and finds that Rico and Alex, the castmates who share the room with him had already arrived.

“Hey, guys!” Dewey says as he walks over to his designated area. He pauses suddenly before he can put his things down. “What’s all this?”

Surrounding his mirror were a pair of blue balloons, some confetti, and a handwritten banner on top that read “Congrats on your debut!”

Rico speaks up, “It’s your first show tonight, Dewey! If that isn’t cause for celebration I don’t know what is.” Alex nods in agreement.

“Aw, thanks guys,” Dewey smiles, clearing away some of the confetti to put down his bag.

“So how’re you feeling? Ready to show the world what you’re made of?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he says, pulling out his notes to review once he finishes warming up.

He spends the next few minutes stretching, uncharacteristically quiet, before sighing and asking, “Guys, you’ve both done this for a while, so… how did you get over the nerves? It still feels insane that I’m even here, and I’m really worried that something’ll go wrong and ruin my chances of continuing here.”

Rico sighs, “I’m not gonna lie, that fear just takes time to get over. But trust me, you’re gonna do great tonight, and soon enough you won’t be so anxious anymore.”

The trio sit in silence for a moment before Alex pipes up, “Didn’t you mention that one of your brothers had a history with anxiety? Maybe he’ll have some advice for you.”

Dewey nods, then grabs his phone from his pocket, pulls up Huey’s contact, and starts a video call.

“Hey Dewey, what’s up?” Huey’s voice picks up through the phone speakers.

“Hi, Hubert. Did you guys just land or something?” Dewey asks, noticing Huey’s surroundings.

“Yeah, we just landed, oh… fifteen minutes ago? We just got to baggage claim- sorry, one sec,” he says, turning to talk to someone off-screen.

Suddenly Uncle Scrooge appears on screen. “Dewey, lad! Can- can ya see me- how does this thing- curse me kilts, what did Ah just-“ Scrooge says as he confusedly fiddles with the phone.

“Uncle Scrooge, I’ll hold the phone for you,” Huey interjects as he grabs his phone back and centers them both on screen.

“So why’d you want to talk to me, Dew?” Huey asks.

Dewey pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. But he pauses a moment too long because more faces suddenly attempt to crowd into the view of Huey’s phone camera, all trying to greet him at once. Dewey snickers a little watching Uncle Donald, the last one to get back from claiming their baggage, trying to squeeze into view with little success.

“Hey guys,” Dewey says. “I love you all, but if I could maybe just talk to Huey for a second? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Reluctantly the rest of the group backs out of frame, leaving once again only Huey.

Sighing amusedly, Huey asks, “Okay, so what did you want me for, Dew?”

“Okay, so, like, I was wondering, basically, like-,” Dewey pauses for a second. “How do you handle your anxiety? Cause I’m kinda freaking out a little right now.”

Huey thinks for a moment. “Well, different things work for different people, but whenever my nerves are getting to me I usually like to take some deep breaths, or you could do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, ummm… yeah, I’d say those are my go-to's. I’d also say that drinking coffee wouldn’t help with nerves at all but I don’t think you’d listen to that one, so…”

Dewey laughs, “Thanks, Huey.”

“Of course, Dew. And also remember, we’re all gonna be there cheering for yo-,” Huey gets cut off by a nearby thud, which he turns to look at.

“Uncle Donald’s suitcase just broke,” Huey explains, walking over to help. “You’re gonna do great tonight and we can’t wait to see you after the show! Break a leg!” Huey signs off.

“Bye Huey, see you guys later,” Dewey replies, ending the call.

“Man, it’s still so weird to me that the richest duck in the world is your uncle,” Alex says.

“I don’t know if that’s more surprising or the fact that he doesn’t have a private plane to get here on,” Rico adds.

“Well, we do have a plane but the pilot can’t make it out here until next week. Aaaaand I’m realizing how much of a spoiled rich kid I sound like right now,” Dewey starts laughing again.

“Nah, if you want a really spoiled rich kid that would be more of a… what’s his name? That creep who got all his money from his grandmeemawmaw or whatever?” Alex retorts.

“Doofus Drake?” Rico supplies.

“Yes, him!”

“Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it,” Dewey exclaims, getting back into his stretching.

——————————————————————-

Dewey opens up the stage door to exit the building. It was dark out now. He was one of the earlier cast members out of the doors, so there was a pretty good-sized crowd greeting him. As he worms his way through them, some congratulate him for making his Broadway debut, and one woman even asks for a picture, which catches him slightly off guard.

Eventually, he makes his way past the main crowd where he is finally greeted by his family, who all promptly give him a bear hug.

“Dewey!!! That was amazing!” Webby exclaims once they all pull away.

“I knew you’d do great,” Huey concurs, grinning.

“Theatre has never been my thing, so believe me when I say that that absolutely blew me away,” Louie adds.

“I’m so proud of ye, lad,” Scrooge says. “Ye’ve done well for yerself.”

Uncle Donald, at a loss for words, smiles and gives him another bear hug.

Della then pries Donald off of him to give him her own hug.

“You boys never cease to make me proud,” she says as she lets him go.

“Aw, you guys,” Dewey says, laughing a little. “You’re gonna get me emotional.”

“We’ve all been emotional since you came on stage, it’s your turn now,” Huey jokes.

Dewey laughs, “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to interrupt a nice family moment, but would you guys like a picture?” Rico says suddenly from behind Dewey, startling him.

“Oh my god, Rico! You can’t scare me like that!”

Dewey recollects himself and turns back to face his family.

“Guys, this is Rico, one of my castmates. Fam, Rico, Rico, fam. And yeah, I think we’d like a picture.”

An obscene amount of pictures later, everyone has their phones back with significantly less storage space than before.

“Thanks, Rico!” Dewey calls out as his castmate departs.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells back.

“Well,” Della says. “I think it’s time for some celebration! What time were those reservations for, Uncle Scrooge?”

“… In ten minutes.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get going then!” She exclaims, prompting the group to hurry off to this restaurant, dragging a confused but happy Dewey along with them.

[innytoes]

Some more silly valentines: Ray and Caleb edition

(For the Caleb's Harem fans out there, if you know you know)

And because I couldn't help myself:

[britishassistant]

A Fruit of Several Trees

Kristoph Gavin considers many things, once the fugue of rage has died down somewhat.

He is currently being transported to the detention center in the back of a police vehicle. He has been cuffed, but not tightly, as some in the world of law enforcement still recognize that respect paid to him is worth its weight in gold. The attitude of the officer driving the car is more akin to that of a chauffer than a guard.

He is under arrest, pending trial, for the murder of Shadi “Smith”.

He has found himself in this situation thanks to the manipulation of novice Apollo Justice by failed ex-attorney Phoenix Wright.

He never should have allowed this farce to continue to this extent. When Wright asked for representation, he should have insisted that a close friend appealing to Gavin and Co. get not less than Gavin himself, no matter the client’s preferences. Certainly not an impressionable, inexpert, indecisive rookie. Not a young man who could be led by the nose until Wright had enacted this, this mockery of spiteful pettiness.

Kristoph takes a breath.

When the red has receded somewhat from his vision, he considers some other aspects that captured his attention.

He considers the warring guilt and conviction on Justice’s face as Kristoph was led from the courtroom.

He considers the look on Wright’s. That damn smug smirk, as if he were somehow better than Kristoph for getting the court to accept evidence that couldn’t exist. That was—is!—fraudulent.

He considers the way Wright looked at Justice. Conniving, grasping glances, like a dog guarding a piece of meat it wishes to devour alone. Or a castaway who doesn’t want to share the only means of survival.

Wright wants something from the boy, and wants it dearly to boot. Whether it’s merely a patsy who can appear in court in place of the disbarred disgrace, or a more…prurient desire.

Except that does not quite do the situation justice, does it?

Of all the lawyers in Gavin & Co., it was Justice, the newly promoted intern, that Wright asked for. Lacchè and Günstling were the most experienced behind Kristoph himself, although both would throw themselves on the pyre before they ever admitted he was culpable (a fact he planned to take advantage of for his appeal). Ingadozó is talented and easily swayed, though was perhaps too overly cautious for Wright’s goals. But Vichy would gladly have played along with this farce for the chance to oust his employer and rule the roost. Yung was the newest off the bar after Apollo, if all Wright wanted was an inexperienced mouthpiece who’d sing to his tune.

But no. Of all the attorneys Gavin and Co. had to offer, Wright selected the one who’d never even taken a case before and refused all others.

Though it isn’t like Kristoph doesn’t understand the appeal.

Apollo Justice is thorough, hard-working, and earnest.

He is analytical enough that he can pick up on the merest hint of a cue and doesn’t need to be led by the hand to the conclusions it would be best to draw. But he is also eager to please, aware and afraid of his own naïveté, which makes him look to his superior for those cues to begin with.

Terrified of failure. Petrified of abandonment.

He is, in short, as fine a pawn as Kristoph could ever hope for.

But if Wright is determined to use him, then Kristoph must remove him from the board.

It is regrettable, he thinks, that he’s been forced to this point. He has liked working alongside Mr. Justice, molding him into an attorney worthy of Gavin and Co.

He’s even enjoyed their non-work interactions, which is more than he can say for most people.

Morning greetings and evening partings, the occasional shared lunch, a thoughtful if inexpensive card every year for Kristoph’s birthdays, introducing Mr. Justice to some quality alcohol in honor of his twenty-first. Graciously covering for the young man’s hangover the next day, in light of the interesting things he’d told Kristoph about why he’d never partaken of even the weakest substance before he came of age.

Still, while Wright was the one pulling the strings, Justice himself also played a role in forcing Kristoph’s hand. There must be consequences for his actions.

When all is said and done, Apollo Justice only has himself to blame for this.

Kristoph Gavin requests to make a call once he reaches the detention center.

It is a call to an international number, and he is on the line for forty four minutes and thirty six seconds.

Afterwards, he returns to his cell a model detainee, if an unnervingly pleased one.

Phoenix Wright feels like he can finally breathe for the first time in seven years.

His work isn’t done, far from it. While MASON has received the tentative go-aheads and sponsorship from the relevant authorities, there’s still plenty of nitty gritty paperwork to be filed and lower level officials to be convinced that this isn’t out of their purview, not really, in fact it could be a great opportunity for them, whaddya say? Care to take a chance on something new?

Although he needs to take care that “Phoenix Wright the washed up poker player” and “Phoenix Wright the foremost jurist system advocate” don’t get mixed up any more than they already have.

Nick grimaces at the memory of the time he accidentally asked a judge if she would “ante up”. The glare he received was enough to make the arctic feel warm and humid.

So, while he still has some issues to sort through as he gets MASON up and running, he can at least do it without Kristoph Gavin breathing down his neck. Looming large over his and Trucy’s lives. Trying to isolate them and drag them down and waiting for the day either of them was careless enough to let their guard slip—!

Well, look who’s laughing now, Gavin. Look who’s laughing now.

He feels bad for Justice, he does, but Nick hardly even felt the punch in the moment, he was so elated. It was everything he could do not to start singing ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ right there in the defendant lobby.

Of course, Trucy had to get him a pack of frozen peas later when the pain set in, but even with his cheek bruised and swollen, he couldn’t stop grinning.

He’d had to hold himself back from talking about Justice to her. He needs to confirm a few last things first— he may bluff through a lot in life, but this is something he wants to be 100% certain of before getting his daughter’s hopes up.

Regardless, Apollo Justice is going places. Nick would happily go all in on that bet.

He considers his faint reflection in one of the ministry’s windows.

His old dress shirt is a bit tight around the shoulders, and his feet ache slightly from being encased in socks and too-small dress shoes.

It’s nothing like the old silhouette, sharp shoulders in blue. But it’s business enough that people take him seriously. That they take MASON seriously.

And if he has the knit hat his daughter made him poking out of his shoulderbag, pin dangling…well, everyone has eccentricities.

Nick allows himself a rare smile, made blurry by the glass, before he sets off for his next appointment with a spring in his step.

Things are finally going his way, and nothing can bring him—!

His phone begins beeping out the opening bars of the Steel Samurai theme.

Nick grins at the caller ID, good mood brightening further. “Yello?”

“Wright.”

“Edgeworth!” His delight is tempered by concern at his friend’s tone. “What’s up? Everything good with you?”

“I take it you haven’t heard then.” Edgeworth’s tone is somehow sharper than usual. Urgent. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the Ministry of Justice.” Nick says slowly, a sense of dread trickling down his spine. “Why? Edgeworth, what’s wrong?”

“The young attorney who helped bring down Kristoph Gavin has a warrant out for his arrest.”

Phoenix Wright stops dead.

“On what grounds?!” His voice is hoarse with volume.

He’d know if someone tried to take Justice in for assault, they’d have contacted him over pressing charges by now, and Nick hasn’t had to do that since Richard Wellington and his fire extinguisher, so that leaves the disastrous possibility that the kid had turned himself in over the representative evidence which he thought was a forgery, which, okay, kudos for having such an unshakable moral compass, but it’d be tricky for Nick to talk their way out of that one, especially with his current reputation—!

“My contact in Interpol tells me the Kingdom of Khura’in is requesting his immediate extradition.” Edgeworth states, voice steady in the way it only gets when everything’s gone to pot. “On the charges of domestic terrorism and treason.”

Phoenix turns on his heel and runs.

[acourtofquestions]

~ Kingdom of Ash ~

Part 2 — Gods and Gates — Chapter 68

I have tonight, tomorrow, & most of Sunday off (finally) after way too much craziness… today is self care AKA my “normal” reading pace & every Maasverse final part (that I always start & then can’t stop).

So here we go — 48 hours to finish Kingdom of Ash (part 2) & the Throne of Glass series —

(I never want it to end but it’s time to fandom without spoilers; though keep an eye out for the all clear first please! & then we shall meme & hard-core “fandom about it” + begin our last phase of the Maasverse “first-read” exploration in Crescent City)

& Take this as your possibly MIA or SUPER-spam with spoilers warning lol

Fangirl survival kit✅: Twinkle Lights☑️ Cat to cuddle☑️ ATW tissues for mental breakdowns & therapy next week😂☑️ + an Aelin style braid to keep it out of my hair🤣☑️ tik-toks, art, & memes to enjoy in the soon to be new spoiler-free world☑️+ feel free to prepare & send them to me (jk lol though you can if you want) Check if there’s deleted scenes/bonus chapters (if so please comment THANK YOU)!⁉️“Queen of Glass” SJM fanfic to finally compare☑️ Crescent City on ready at the library☑️ Kingdom of Ash book☑️ pillow to cushion any book throwing (jk)😅☑️

It’s time to begin, I’ll see you on the other side 🫡

[artilaz]

Gale: Indeed! I'll guard my resolve like a lit flame in a... Well, in a gale! Heh.

Tristan: *chuckles*

Gale: ... You found that funny?

Tristan: It was a good pun. I like puns! I cast my vote for more Gale puns.

Gale: Wait- you mean puns with the word 'gale', or puns delivered by Gale?

Tristan, softly: Yes.

[natdrinkstea]

hey guys I took a break from tubglr today for my mental health but now I am back to ask a question only you all can help me with. I'm working a burlesque/drag show this summer and thusly have a month to come up with a stage name. please help. I love you.

[a-cakehound-or-critter-a-day]

There have been many playdates between cake hounds and other critters, will Furball Pup get the chance to get some play time as well?

I'm planning on it! :D have a queue running while I rest up a bit for the month so I don't get too burnt out. but it'll be running out in a couple of days so we'll see >:)

meanwhile have some old art featuring them in the background to make up for the lack of them so far! :')

[catilinas]

had not previously considered this but. why is crassus(‘ unavenged ghost) the first named person in the pharsalia??????

[strangelittlestories]

When dad and me died*, his death resulted in a whole *production*; tears were shed, swords were thrown into rivers, and grandma hid him away in a custom-built tomb** so he could come back ‘when like, we really need him, y’know’?

(*Okay, fine, that’s maybe not the most honest phrasing. It’d probably have been more accurate to say “When I killed Dad and he killed me”. And it would have been most accurate to say “when I impaled Dad with a spear and the *absolute madman* clawed his way up the haft inch-by-painstaking-inch to stab me in the heart with his magic sword”.)

(**Like, seriously, did she just have a mystical suspended-animation tomb ready to go? That’s creepy. It’s not just me right, that’s a little weird?)

But me? I was just left to rot on Pelennor Fields with all the other riff-raff.

(Wait, SHIT - Pelennor Fields is the Tolkein one, isn’t it? The fields of *Camlan* are where I died. Sorry about that - in my defence, I died many centuries and several Lord of the Rings binges ago.)

I guess I should be grateful that they left me alone. It wasn’t so long ago (and not so long after) that traitors to the crown used to get their heads displayed on pikes or hung in gibbets. But folks were pretty busy with king dad’s big send-off and mourning the dream of chivalry (plus burying all the dead folks they actually liked), so no-one really bothered with tidying up the remains of the traitor prince. 

Plus, I think most of the knights and nobles had thought I was a bit of a weirdo and didn’t want any more to do with me in death than they did in life. Probably afraid that I’d reanimate and use my last foetid breaths to tell them about a cool mushroom I’d found. Then they wouldn’t know how to respond, and it’d just be *awkward*, y’know?

So anyway, there I was, lying there with my blood soaking the dirt and my vital organs getting decidedly less vital by the second. And all around me was a whole field of other dead people that I’d gotten killed and honestly I was feeling pretty shitty about the whole thing.

How was I dead and still feeling shitty you ask? Well, first of all: I am a multi-tasker. And second of all: I guess I wasn’t maybe *all-the-way* dead*.

(*Or rather: I was very much dead, but I was *also* very much in my body and doing a big old hecking panic about that, thank you very much.)

Something you should probably know about me: I was adopted. Yeah yeah, I know you’ve heard the propaganda, that my mum and dad were brother and sister and that’s where a lot of my *fundamental weirdness* comes from. And *yes*, they were siblings, but *no* it wasn’t like that. Dear old mum and dear dead dad *found me*. 

Specifically, they found me in a weird-ass cave spattered in the blood of a monster they’d just slain (it was A Whole Thing, I’ll tell you about it some other time).

They figured that the beast had stolen me after killing my family or something like that.

This was incorrect.

A certain bearded crap-o-mancer speculated that I was the *beastie’s* boy, but that’s wrong too.

The truth is weirder. You see … I was the cave’s kid.

Yup. Child of the earth, right here. Or to give a less flattering but more apt name … I was a dirtbag.

[wazzi2ya]

I know Stolas is an owl but it's so much fun to give him traits of other birds, like with those massive stompers just imagine what could've been of Striker if he was a secretary bird

[silent-scribbs]

Hypothetically…?

+ Bonus Sepia reaction

[nyoureii]

everyone is talking about the origins of henry 1.0 and how he was gifted to levi, but i can’t help but wonder if the “first best friend” they mentioned is actually lotan.

as far as i know (and please feel free to correct me if i’m wrong), we haven’t seen anything about how levi actually met lotan nor how he gained his status as the grand admiral. we know that levi has the ability to summon him at will (usually for comedic purposes) and that he can cause mass destruction, but they haven’t dove in deep beyond that (other than the monster festival chat). considering how nightbringer is covering the aftermath of the celestial war, including the upbringing of the brothers as the newly appointed seven lords, then it is safe to assume that we will be exploring how each of the brothers gained their statuses and the respect of the citizens of the devildom, including leviathan.

this brings me to my next question: why is leviathan the one who has the ability to command a dangerous monster like lotan? wouldn’t it be ideal to have lucifer, the strongest of the brothers and the leader, to command him? why not mammon, who worked directly under lucifer and is the closest one to him of the brothers?

well there’s one possibility: they both lacked the ability to gain lotan’s respect and hence control him.

again, i’d imagine that a monstrous creature as dangerous as lotan would not be easy to tame. he is a feared serpent of the deep sea — one with seven heads at that, and so strong that he caused so much mass destruction in the human realm,

and yet this monstrous serpent follows the command of leviathan.

leviathan, who prefers to keep to himself, enough to where interacting with others makes him uncomfortable. leviathan, who is very passionate about his interests and speaks in internet slang out loud.

leviathan, who was also the general up in the celestial realm and was so passionate about fighting that he felt like he had no purpose otherwise (and the reason why he’s so good at strategizing in video games).

leviathan, whose aforementioned experience could’ve been the overall reason why he somehow tamed the large, seven-headed beast.

now wouldn’t that catch the interest of the higher authority?

and wouldn’t that higher authority possibly be the demon king, who, as satan states below, gave them their rankings and demon names?

could that be why leviathan is the third eldest of the brothers, despite there being doubts in this? because even though his powers do not equate to an extremely powerful ex-celestial nor a throne who worked under said ex-celestial, he still gained enough respect that he could control such a wild, wild beast and eventually gain yet another leadership status over a whole army — a beast that his younger brothers cannot control either and hence are placed beneath him.

leviathan, the commander of the sea.

the grand admiral of hell’s navy.

[randomnumbers751650]

Fanfic idea: Kronii Ouro somehow ends up in Solemnace and, given her disaster woman tendencies, Trazyn decides she's amusing enough and gives her the keys to a random tombworld to see what she'll do with her own army of nekronies.

[absentlyabbie]

many times over the years i've wished i had video editing skills (while fully aware i don't have the patience to acquire them)

but presently it's because i have developed a sudden, terrible need for a music video set to my chemical romance's "teenagers" with clips from kdramas all of us are dead, weak hero class 1, and duty after school

[yourtypicalhopelessgay]

We get to see our girls tiny tomorrow. I can’t wait