#HE DID HWHA

[majimassqueaktoy]

Joon-gi's father did WHAT 👁👄👁

[potato-lord-but-not]

I would see the way you draw faces - which is amazing btw - and be like "bro that's such a tim stoker face he'd totally make that face" AND THEN YOU DREW TIM STOKER :O AND HE DID THE TIM STOKER FACE AND HE'S JUST SO AAAGGGH I love your him so much (and your Sasha design too!!)

Anyway hope you enjoy TMA, you will find so many things to point at and be like "hehe will wood reference", thank you for your incredible art!! :)

HWHA thank you !! the first time I heard him speak I was like oh yeah that’s my guy he’s mine now.

[rotfics]

just hold me a while (dredge/zoey)

Dredge looked down before sighing and opening the lock for Zoey's bunker. He let out an "eugh" before climbing down and looking around.

Zoey's bunker was a hellscape, but he knew how to get around. He rubbed his arm. Needing her...needing people, was hard. But Zoey did love him. He shook off before walking to her main lab.

She was stitching something together.

"..Zoey."

Zoey jumped and put her tools down, scrambling over to see the man she loved. ...Kinda looked around and tried to appear more casual about it. Failed.

"I'm not feelin right,"

Her eyes softened.

"D'you maybe wanna come upstairs and watch a movie. And maybe hold me like you do."

Zoey grinned and turned around, taking a blade to whatever she was working on.

"Wait what was th-"

She turned around with a cheerful look and shrugged before wiping her workspace of body parts.

"Was that important??"

Zoey responded (physically) by grabbing Dredge and carrying him to the couch, taking his mask off and rubbing her face on his cheek.

Dredge leaned in.

"...Don't let Royce know about this, but...I'm 'bouta show you a series of torture horror movies, dude."

Zoey perked and squirmed until Dredge laid on her chest. She wiggled.

"It's called SAW, and there are multiple movies, with a ton of fucked up shit in it."

Dredged laughed a bit as he felt his best friend wiggle in excitement beneath him before starting the first movie. His face fell.

"...Thanks for being my friend."

Zoey reached up to pause the movie, turning Dredge over to squeeze him to her chest.

Dredged rolled onto her chest and laughed.

"Dude let's marathon this whole thing."

Zoey squeezed Dredge, nuzzling his hair and nodding.

"...Yeah, I know you're gonna get ideas, that's why I'm showing you these movies specifically, goof ass,"

Zoey huffed, poking his cheek and smirking before leaning her head down and booping his forehead with her own, grin soft, eyes locked on his. Dredge reached up and brushed his claws through her hair, looking back at her (His cheeks blushing a bit from the very direct eye contact; And that probably made Zoey grin wider.)

"...Love you too, big girl."

Zoey gripped him closer and turned to face the TV, resting her chin againt the crook of his neck, but grabbed his hand before he pressed play.

"Hwha-"

She leaned her cheek against his in a silent question that only he could understand.

Dredge poked her nose with a claw.

"We'll always be best friends. I can promise your crazy ass that, girlLOOGF-"

Zoey SQUEEZED him to her chest, making him wheeze out but laugh at the action.

"S'watch the movie...MOVIES, I mean. Not all of them are great, but you'll like the violence, crazy girl."

She nuzzled her face into his cheek and looked up at the screen, wrapping her arms around him and grinning, nuzzling her chin into his hair as the movie went on.

"Like it, big girl?"

Zoey responded by clutching him tight, wiggling and nodding, making Dredge laugh.

"Thought you might."

She gleefully hugged him closer and watched with wide eyes, looking down and smiling at Dredge's criticisms of the films, listening to each word.

Eventually, he fell asleep in her arms as the movies kept playing. Zoey smirked and nuzzled against him, keeping the movies going. Dredge opened an eye and shrugged, burrowing his face into her arm.

Zoey rested her chin on his head and watched the series; At times nuzzling her cheek against her friends head.

[breath-of-eternity]

Don't Bring A Gun To A Magic Fight

Castle goggled down at him, and the cane he was holding—hell, that was Resh’s Divining Rod—nearly slipped from his grip before he grabbed it again.

“You’re dead,” he said to Agni.

“What part of immortal don’t you understand?”

The man actually stomped his foot. Toddlers behaved better than he did. He may not have had a title, but he was a king, raised for the throne, never knowing want, certainly without ever knowing consequences.

“You don’t get to hoard magic for yourselves,” Castle said.

“Shut up, adults are talking.” Agni turned back to Melusine, who was on the ground, hands chained behind her, her head swaying back and forth with a line of spit dripped from her mouth. “Huge pain in the ass,” he said again. “Are the others dead? Too bad. I want them to be able to see how awesome this is going to be. Anyway, what have you guys been up to? Was that thing back east you guys or what?”

“Hwha… Agni?” Melusine’s eyes had trouble focusing. It would be a few minutes before she’d be able to fully appreciate his wit.

Sharp rapports echoed through the air as the soldiers discharged their weapons, as he expected they would. The large projectiles were stopped by the energy net he built around himself, but the small ones had enough energy to pierce it, albeit at a harmless velocity. They bounced off his chest and tinkled on the ground.

“You know what’s really fun about all your buildings?” he said. “They are so full of energy.”

He snapped his fingers. He didn’t need to. It was just made it funnier when their projectiles went flying back at them at a much more impressive speed. Best part was, even though he sapped the energy of the building, it was already flowing through the walls again. This was going to be so easy.

He unsheathed Melusine’s sword. Straight up, angled, to the side, while his other hand raised a shield that wasn’t there.

“I guess you’ll just have to die again,” Castle said, as if he had the upper hand. “You know who brings a knife to a gun fight? The loser.”

And he turned to leave—or flee, rather, because there was no way he’d fight his own battles. Agni reached out a tendril of energy and twisted it around the man’s waist, yanking him off his feet. He dropped Ereshkigal’s staff, which rolled off the platform he stood on top of, and he batted at the energy ensnaring him.

“In an astonishing coincidence,” Agni said, taking off his tinted glasses and sticking them on his shirt, “that’s exactly what they say about someone who brings a ‘gun’ to a magic fight.”

[dballzposting]

Dragon Ball GT

(Trunks awakes, bleary-eyed)

Trunks: hwha... where am i...?

(He recognizes the room, slowly, to be of Palace-chan's place; in front of him are two chairs, and he realizes that he is sitting in one too. He looks down, and sees that he fixed securely in place with tight rope)

Trunks: (snapping to lucidity) HUH.

(The talking in the adjacent room stops, alerting Trunks that it was present at all. He sees his buddy Goten quickly spy into the room, look him in the eye, and then retreat.)

Goten: (lowly) Oh he's awake. Come on he's awake. Ok come on you got your paper? Okay. Look alive. This is serious.

(GOTEN enters the room, followed by PALACE-CHAN.)

Goten, morosely, sympathetically: You're finally awake. You feeling okay?

Trunks: What? Why did you tie me to this chair, h-how did you even-

Goten: CALM DOWN. WE'RE GONNA GET THROUGH THIS TOGETHER, BUDDY.

(Palace covers her eyes briefly at the rising emotion, feeling the strain of sadness.)

Trunks: WHAT? What's going on, man?!

(Goten and Palace-chan take a seat.)

Goten, trying to keep a cork on his feelings: It's okay. We just wanna talk to you. That's why I brought you here.

Trunks: Did you knock me out and tie me to a chair, dude?

Goten, coming uncorked, standing: I HAD TO, DUDE! YOU WERE GETTING OUT OF CONTROL!

(Palace rises to comfort him and return him to his seat.)

Palace: Honeybear, please.

Goten: I'm sorry. Okay. I'm good. Thank you. I love you.

Palace: I love you too.

Trunks: What is this about

Goten: I brought you here so we can ... talk about the spiral you've been on lately.

Trunks: The what?

Goten: Your drinking.

Trunks: My WHAT ?

Goten: You're always going out. Just last Thursday you went out and drank a lot. Who drinks on a Thursday Trunks. A loser that's who.

Trunks: ...Are you talking about that wine tasting? Th-that was a corporate hosted event, I had to go - and I tried to INVITE YOU, remember? I invited you and Palace but you both-

Goten, standing again: THAT'S NO EXCUSE, TRUNKS! Our point is that your drinking has gotten out of hand!

Trunks: WHAT DRINKING ?

Palace, almost succumbing to tears: I hate who you are when you drink.

Goten: That's- that's a good point Palace- (approaching to mollify her, placing his hands around her shoulders delicately) This is a good segway into the note you wrote. Trunks we've prepared some words for you.

Trunks: IS THIS A FUCKING INTERVENTION ?

Palace, reading: I love you but I don't like who you are when you drink. I don't like it when you come home drunk.

Trunks, interrupting: WHEN do I come home DRUNK?

Palace, crinkling the paper in sudden expression: THAT'S MY POINT! YOU NEVER COME HOME!! WHO KNOWS WHERE YOU GO..?? (Crying) (Goten is rubbing her shoulders)

(A/N Trunks does not formally live with them and is just not there every night. Because he's in his bed. In Capsule Corp.)

Goten: Hey, you did really good. That was really brave. You have a lot of courage.

Palace, drying her tears: Okay. You read yours now.

Goten, sitting back down, pulling out a sheet of paper: Okay. Dear Trunks. I hate it when you drink. It's counterintuitive to everything we've built our lives upon. Your body is a temple and you're built like Adonis and I can't stand to see you poison yourself. We're martial artists. I can't sit back and watch you poison your beautiful body.

Trunks: Okay well that makes some sense. But Goten. What about all those party drugs you did in your frat years? Am I meant to tie you to a chair about that?

Goten: Well it would be NICE if you CARED enough to!!!!

Palace, reaching over to rub his arm: Don't let him get to you. You said this would happen. Stay on topic.

Goten: Okay. You're right. Thank you. Trunks this isn't about me this is about you. And it's also about us. DRINKING IS SOMETHING YOU DO WITH YOUR BUDDY TRUNKS!!! SO WHO ARE YOU DRINKING WITH??! SOMEONE NEW???

Trunks: I DON'T KNOW, THE DISTRICT MANAGERS ???!!

I don't know how to end this post

[twilighteve-writes]

Feather One Divided -- Chapter 1: The Dream

Fic Summary:

Feather one divided, fate’s ties frayed, Fractured and wedged, scattered and gone.

After sharing an unsettling dream of Felldrake, the Three Caballeros decided to join back together with Xandra to form a stronghold in case the sorcerer returned. But Felldrake’s plans proved to be bigger than they expected, and when he struck so close to home, it was all Donald could do to keep his family – and himself – together.

(Also available in AO3)

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Feather one divided to three,

The red, the blue, and the green.

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The rush of wind upon her face – unfamiliar, harsh, cold. The sky expanded, the universe opened for her eyes, galaxies swelling and shining with the light of stars and colorful nebulas. Rocks floated, seemingly weightless, but her feet stayed firmly grounded. The rocks may escape the laws of gravity, but she couldn’t.

A shape loomed over her, an ominous shade of purple. It was a giant fowl with multiple horns and large, round belly, with booming voice that rang and echoed in the galaxy. His whole appearance would have been hilarious with how dramatic he was if he wasn’t also downright terrifying. He grinned at her, and dread pooled in her stomach – something whispered in her mind, telling her that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be like this, that this was wrong, all wrong.

Red and green flashed around her and ran to the giant fowl, and she followed, clad in blue light. There was a weight of a sword in her hand, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

The shape reached out, striking out like a snake. Her sight was obscured in the purple, and the world went dark.

She woke with a start.

She blinked, for a moment disoriented. She took a deep breath and felt her magic, knowing immediately that the dream didn’t come from her. With that in mind, she rose from her bed and treaded lightly on the wooden floor, making her way to the houseboat.

“Donald?” she called softly as she opened the door to his bedroom. “What was with that dream?”

Her brother was curled up on his hammock, face illuminated by his phone. He looked up at her and tiredly waved her away. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep, Dell.”

“Are you sure? That didn’t feel like nothing,” Della said. “And you’re up. Are you okay? Should we go to the kitchen?”

Donald snorted. “Uncle Scrooge will be mad if we drink coffee and eat brownies again.”

“Well, there’s hot chocolate.”

Donald shook his head. “It’s fine, Dell. Go back to sleep.”

Della studied his face. “Well… if you’re sure.” She turned, her gaze on Donald lingering, and walked away. “Goodnight, Don.”

“Night, Dell.”

The door clicked shut.

With Della gone, Donald returned his attention to his phone, scanning the last texts in the group chat with Panchito and José.

 [9:27 PM] José: ok, so i will go to mexico to get panchito and then we’ll get you see you in duckburg, donald  :))

[9:29 PM] Panchito: i’m so excited for this! the caballeros, back together again!

[9:30 PM] Me: yea i’m excited too!! see you soon guys!

His fingers hovered over the keys, thinking about what he wanted to write. Before he could decide, the phone dinged softly as a new message came in. He checked in, reading the text, and the phone dinged again and again as more message came in.

 [2:43 AM] Panchito: hey did you see that

[2:44 AM] José: are you talking about the felldrake vision? si

[2:44 AM] Panchito: oh good! that’s not just me

[2:45 AM] Me: no?? notg ood? guys we haven’t heard of felldrake in literal years and we just had a shared vision this feels like an omen?

[2:47 AM] José: but we can’t do anything about it now we should meet up first i think discuss it in person

[2:48 AM] Panchito: and also see if we get more vision? maybe xandra will meet us

[2:49 AM] Me: do we know where she is or how to contact her

[2:50 AM] Panchito: no, she didn’t say

[2:50 AM] Me: well shit

[2:51 AM] José: ok, i have an idea i’ll hit the places xandra might be in as i go to panchito we’ll search for her as we go to duckburg when we get to donald we continue searching maybe we can check the old cabana

[2:53 AM] Panchito: that sounds good

[2:54 AM] Me: yeah, ok see you soon?

[2:54 AM] Panchito: see you soon buenos noches, dulces sueños

[2:55 AM] José: you too, panchinto, donald

 Donald locked the screen and set the phone away, mind whirling. It had been a while since he thought in length about Felldrake. After all, they hadn’t heard of the sorcerer after he ran away in Sheldgoose’s body, and while Xandra had gone to track him down, there was no word about it. In his mind, he’d assumed that maybe Felldrake had just… croaked.

He sighed and laid back down, one hand snaking underneath his pillow. He froze when his fingers brushed against something cool and hard, and he took it out.

The familiar amulet gleamed in his hand.

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Louie suppressed a yawn as he opened the fridge to get milk. The morning was lazy and sluggish, with the occupants of the manor reaching for coffee or breakfast for their chosen pick-me-up. He knew, though, that it wouldn’t be for long. Uncle Donald told them that Panchito and José would be visiting, which was exciting to say the least. They were fun to be around.

As he poured cereal into his bowl, though, he noticed Uncle Donald blearily looking at his mug, looking more pensive than excited. Frowning, Louie opened the carton of milk and asked, “So, Panchito and José. When will they arrive?”

“Hm, hwha?” Uncle Donald looked up to meet his eyes, his magic just as sluggish as he looked. The question registered and he nodded. “Right! Panchito and José, right. They’ll arrive maybe in a week or so, they’re kind of sightseeing as they go.” He straightened up, seemingly regaining a bit of clarity. “But I know you kids are going later, and you’d better be back for lunch.”

“Aw, don’t worry, Uncle Donald. We’re just going to be in Funso’s for a bit,” Huey assured. “As long as Dewey doesn’t spend too much time playing that new spy game…”

“Hey, that new spy game is the spiffiest game in existence, and I will not let you slander it.”

“It’s okay, we’ll make sure to check the time,” Webby said.

“Alright, then. Take care, you guys.” Uncle Donald went back to contemplating his coffee mug. Mom glanced at him, frowned, and turned to the kids.

“Anyway, you kids have enough money for the bus fare? Do you need anything?”

“That’s okay, we got everything,” Huey said. The rest of breakfast went down quietly, though Louie noticed Mom and Uncle Donald’s magic keep rising and poking each other the way they always do when they talked magically. A part of him wondered what they were talking about, but then he remembered the one time he asked they answered, in unison, taxes. He was too young to be thinking about taxes, thanks.

The four of them set off to the bus stop, meeting up with Violet and Lena on the stop nearest to Funso’s. Webby immediately flocked with the girls, chattering up and down about anything and everything as the boys exchanged greetings with them. Dewey practically dragged the girls to play Double-O-Duck while Huey and Louie opted to hang about the tables, people watching and waiting for the others to be done.

“Hey, do you want something to drink?” Louie asked after a while.

“Sure. We can share a cup, that’ll be cheaper,” Huey said. He glanced at Louie and whispered, “And, hey. Water, alright?”

“Psssh, Huey. It’s like you don’t know me at all.” Louie rolled his eyes and went to get the cup, already wondering if the Pep station was filled or not.

Huey huffed. “My brother is a criminal,” he commented dramatically. “Anyway, I’m gonna go check out the arcade. Meet you later?”

“Sure.”

Louie eventually settled for the punch, and he sat on the table, happily skimming though social media using Funso’s free wifi – it was slow, but bearable.

The sound of a chair leg scraping against the floor drew his gaze up, and he came face to face with a goose in purple who stared into his eyes with much more intensity than he was comfortable with. Upon seeing Louie looking up at him, he smiled. “Hello,” he greeted.

Louie blinked. “Uh, hi?”

“Is this seat taken?” the goose asked again. Without waiting for Louie’s answer, he leaned forward and placed his chin on his hand. “Tell me, boy. Are you alone? Don’t your parents know to not leave kids alone in places like this?”

Louie blinked again and sized the goose. “I’m not alone,” he said as he slipped his phone into his pocket and took the cup – it was empty by now – and slowly slid off the chair. “But I was told not to talk to strangers. Bye.” He walked hastily, passing the goose, eyes already scanning the arcade to find Huey.

“Hey, don’t be so hasty.” The goose’s hand shot out and caught Louie’s elbow, and he dropped the empty cup. “I just wanted to talk to you a bit. I’m a little concerned, you know, since you’re alone and all.”

“I’m not alone. Let go.” Louie tugged his arm away, but the goose didn’t relent. Panic whispered into his magic as he dug deep into himself, searching for Huey’s comfortable warmth and Dewey’s excitable sparks.

The goose had been maintaining a thin smile the whole time, but the moment Louie reached for his brothers’ magic, his smile widened into something bordering on a grin as something washed over Louie. It felt vast and limitless, dark with twinkles of light in the distance, and so so cold and unforgiving Louie felt his knees buckle immediately. He caught himself on the table and scrambled back, but the goose kept his hold.

“Oh,” the goose breathed. “Interesting.”

“Let go,” Louie demanded again, but his voice had grown weak.

“No, no, look at you. You don’t look like you can even stand up straight.” The goose tilted his head as his grip grew tighter. “Why don’t I just… make sure you’re okay?”

Louie opened his mouth to decline, but his tongue felt leaden, his body heavy, the vastness dark twining his limbs and pressing him down like invisible load upon his shoulders. Only his left hand seemed to feel lighter, and he didn’t know why.

“Hey!”

A hand grabbed his arm while another ripped the goose’s hold away. Louie stumbled as the invisible load lifted, as he found his voice once again. He looked up to see Funso’s pig manager, who took one look at him and hastily shoved him behind his leg. “Sir, what were you doing to the kid?” he asked menacingly.

“Oh, I was just making sure the boy is alright,” the goose reasoned as he stood up. “He looks unwell, and it doesn’t look like his parents are around.”

“Do you know him?” the manager asked again.

“I don’t – I don’t know him,” Louie interjected before the goose could reply.

“Is that so,” the manager growled at the goose. He glanced back at Louie and looked around. “Look, kid, you look shaken, so why don’t you go find Jane and go sit in my office for a bit?”

“No.” Louie’s answer might have come a little too quickly, given how the manager glanced at him in concern. “No, I’m. I’m fine. I’m just gonna go find my… friends.” He shuffled back.

The manager handed him a new cup. “At least take this. Go drink whatever, it’s on the house.”

“Thank you,” Louie took the cup with shaky hands and bolted out of there, catching the sight of the manager talking softly but sternly to the goose, who held a neutral smile on his face the whole time as he climbed the stairs to the arcade area.

He almost crashed into Huey as he ran into the arcade area, and Huey immediately steadied him. “Louie?” Huey called. “Are you okay? I felt you reaching out, what happened?”

Louie blinked, meeting Huey’s concerned gaze, trying to control his hands so he didn’t crush the cup in his hold. “Um, there was a… a man, a goose, he gave me the creeps. Funso’s manager dealt with him.”

Huey breathed, and Louie could almost feel his concern bleed into relief. The sound of people running closer drew their attention, and they turned to check. Dewey, Webby, Lena, and Violet ran to them, and Dewey skidded to a halt as he reached to Louie.

“What? What? You felt weird earlier, did something bad happen?” Dewey grabbed Louie by the arms and stared at him.

Huey placed a hand on Dewey’s. “Louie said there was a creepy man, but the manager dealt with it.”

Louie nodded and held up the cup. “The manager said I can take whatever. I guess that’s a compensation or whatever.”

“Did he say anything to you? The creep?”

“Not really. But he wouldn’t leave me alone. He grabbed me by my arm.” Louie frowned. “I think… he might have magic.”

“Did he feel like space? Big, dark, cold?” Lena cut in. “Because I felt that rising, earlier.”

“Yeah,” Louie gulped. “Yeah, it felt like that.”

Dewey looked around. “I don’t like this. Someone grabbed you and he has magic? And it felt paralyzing earlier.”

Huey blinked. “Oh. That was from him? The heaviness?”

Louie nodded. “I don’t know if he’s still around. If he is, I don’t want to stay here.”

Violet looked around. “What is he?”

“Goose in purple.”

“I don’t see anyone fitting that description.”

“Hey, come on. Let’s get you something to drink.” Webby took the cup and his hand and led Louie back to the tables. “I’ll get you something. What do you want? Pep? Punch?”

“I think I can do with Pep,” Louie admitted with a smile.

“One Pep, coming right up!” Webby interlocked her elbow with Lena’s and dragged her away.

“Hey, I know it’s just happened and it’s probably still really scary for you, but can you tell in detail what the goose is like?” Huey asked as Louie sat down. He had flipped his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to an empty page at the back. “I’ll write it down, just in case we need to tell someone about it.”

Louie shrugged. “Goose. Dressed in purple suit, I guess? He’s got black hair and this weirdly shaped mustache. Like lightning bolt, or something.” He rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, it feels all creepy crawly. I think I tried to reach you two, earlier. He commented that it’s interesting.”

“How did he even get inside in the first place?” Violet wondered aloud. “I thought adults aren’t allowed in if they aren’t escorting children.”

“Uncle Donald has gotten in by saying he’s here to pick us up, maybe he said something similar,” Dewey said. He sat by Louie’s side, purposefully pressing their shoulders together. “It’s good if the manager’s kicked him out, though.”

Violet fiddled with her bracelet in thought. “Maybe you should call your uncle or your mother,” she suggested. “For safety reasons.”

The triplets exchanged glances and nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Huey said. “I’ll text Uncle Donald, since he’s the one who actually owns a car.”

Webby and Lena came back later, just as Huey finished up his conversation with Uncle Donald, bearing a cup of Pep for Louie. “Here you go,” Webby said, putting the cup by Louie’s hand. “Anyway, you can relax a bit. Lena checked earlier if there’s any weird magical signatures around, she didn’t get anything.”

“I mean, I got traces, but it’s probably from that creepy goose from earlier. The traces led outside though, so you’re all good,” Lena explained.

“Thanks.” Louie took the cup and sipped.

“Uncle Donald will pick us up soon,” Huey announced. “He said he’ll text if he’s arrived.”

“Cool, cool. Can we talk about something else now?” Louie said.

They were silent for a moment, then Violet spoke up, “Well, I was in the library a few days ago. I read something interesting in a book, …”

Louie settled in his seat and let Violet’s words wash over him.

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It didn’t take long for Uncle Donald to arrive with Mom in tow. Funso’s manager, who had been pretty much leaving them alone but hovering near while glancing around warily, walked them to the edge of the pier and explained the situation to them.

“Goose in purple suit?” Uncle Donald repeated, speaking slowly to make sure the manager understood him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, purple suit. He has black hair and mustache looking like lightning bolts,” the manager confirmed. “He looked a bit too spiffy for our usual patrons, and he claimed he was looking after his niece, but he couldn’t point which kid. We kicked him out earlier, but you might want to look out.”

Uncle Donald looked around warily. “Yeah… yeah. Goose in purple suit. Thanks for the info.”

“Well,” Mom said as the manager went back to Funso’s and they were all seated in the car, “I guess we should all head back to the manor. We have board games at home so you guys could do that instead?”

“As long as it’s not game night again,” Huey muttered.

“I dunno, I think the last one was exciting,” Webby shrugged.

“What… happened in the last game night?” Violet asked.

“Do we even want to know?” Lena added.

“Oh, it was nothing! Just the family getting shrunk and we had to fight on Scroogopoly board.” Webby shrugged. “You know. Typical stuff.”

“Also, Scrooge gets crazy competitive so you might not want to get him involved. When it was just the three of us he got disturbingly happy at beating us in so many games…” Mom added.

“The last one was kind of my fault though. I was the one who shrunk Gyro and everything…” Louie grimaced and looked away, curling into himself in his seat.

The ride back to the manor was filled with their chatter, and Louie felt his frazzled nerves settle back into calmness. When Uncle Donald parked the car, he shooed the kids inside and took out his phone.

“Don, what are you doing? Let’s get inside,” Mom called from the doorway.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up soon,” Uncle Donald said, putting his phone by his ear. His voice was hushed when he talked, but Louie caught him saying Panchito and José’s name.

Louie ignored it in favor of going inside, idly chatting with Lena. He turned back to the door when he heard Uncle Donald stepping in. He stared at how Uncle Donald glanced outside warily, looking around, as if searching for something.

A part of him felt safer, with how Uncle Donald clearly looked after them. The other, for some reason, felt unsettled.

[miscxllany]

@evisconti​​ said: “so  apparently  the  ‘bad  vibes’  i’ve  been  feeling  are  actually  severe  psychological  distress.” // suhad HWHA

Well, she certainly could have told him that. It was no surprise considering the trauma Ercole had been through. At least, the trauma Suhad was aware of anyways. What more was buried beneath the surface, hidden because it had to be? Still, this was a realization he had to come to on his own. Nothing she said or did could bring him here. He was stubborn, willing to argue with her about the smallest things. All Suhad could do was wait for the moment to come. Finally, at long last, it has. A mixture of concern and pity washes across her features. She's scanning his face for some sort of indicator on how he is feeling. It's hard to tell. Should she test the waters? 

❛ Would you like to talk about it? We do not have to, of course. ❜ Surely he knows that by now, that she won't force a conversation about such a delicate topic. He's certainly been around enough to have picked up on the healthy boundaries she's trying to establish with him. ❛ I could make some tea. ❜

[joulethieves]

cute balvaan things #56890

balthier knows card tricks like it’s no one’s business, and one night at a tavern he decides to show off in front of everyone with vaan as his target, and – while everyone in the party is admittedly entertained by his tricks – (tipsy)vaan absolutely Loses His Shit like MIndFuckingBlown HolySHITBalthier H–Hwha—HOW DID YOU DO…DO IT AGAIN!!!

and Balthier is absolutely tickled by it

[user-alan]

Beck's eyes narrow. "Who are you?"

“Hwha?”Alan was taken aback by the question. Why was this program acting asthough Alan had crossed a line? What had hedone? Why did itmatter who or what he was? Well, maybe the whatas non-programs were generally distrusted. Still, though, he doubtedthat this program suspected him of being anything other than a basic.Maybe he was wrong. “Excuse me, but I don’t remember seeing anysigns saying I had to report my identitywhile passing through this area.”

[nagaficat]

viridescent-lance​:

nagaficat​:

for a special someone [Forsyth & Deirdre]

“Hwha?” The forest is public grounds, so it shouldn’t be particularly surprising to run into another person here, especially not during this time of flower collection, but Forsyth is still caught a little off guard. She is quite friendly, at least! “Thank you! I am indeed, though the going has been difficult.”

“Apologies for imposing this upon you, but do you know where one might find white roses in this area?” Forsyth awkwardly fiddles with his basket. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t ask someone he just met for a favor, but this woman does seem to both know the forest and is already helping him collect flowers. “I was directed here by a townsperson, but I am starting to believe they may have been mistaken…and I must confess, I have lost my way at this point.”

Hopefully he’s not making unfounded assumptions, but at this point Forsyth is slightly concerned about making it home before nightfall. Besides, is picking flowers communally not also a Fodlan tradition? He’s certain it probably is. Likely so.

Deirdre covers her mouth to hide a giggle.  There is a pang of guilt.  It is not funny that this poor knight had been led here.  Perhaps at least she can provide some sort of aid.  “Forgive me, Sir Knight, but I am afraid you may have been tricked by this person.  I am not from Fodlan either but from what I’ve gathered, white roses are particularly popular at this time of year and become increasingly difficult to come by.  I did manage to get some from the greenhouse at the monastery that I was going to use in a crown for my husband.”

A rosy pink blush spreads from the tips of Deirdre’s ears across her cheeks and nose and she sheepishly breaks eye contact to look toward the side. "You may have the ones I have gathered if you like. I know it is traditional here but I have always know white roses to mean purity and innocence. It would have been more appropriate while we were still courting. White is not really his color anyway."

She holds out her own basket. There are some of the coveted white roses but not quite enough to make a full flower crown. "Truly, I do not mind sharing! If you like, you are welcome to join me while we weave them together. It has been quite awhile since I've had a friend to do this with."