#and I think my best bet is with this one

[themratts]

A Surprise For Papa

[ A mysterious 'gift' arrives at the ministry, addressed to Copia, and he's not quite sure what to make of it ]

Rating: Teens and Up (May be subject to change)

Chapter One • Delivery (word count : 2.3K)

—— 🍼

It was easy enough for Papa to get into the zone when it came to his ministry work. Despite how tedious and time consuming it could often be, by now, at his age, he was more than familiar with the grind and it came simply enough to him every day.

He’d sit, at his usual deskspace with his usual documents and reports and church budgets and he’d scribble away at them for as long as he had to. The trick was not to get knocked out of his focus once he was already in. That in itself, was the hard part. As he set his coffee mug down, three sturdy knocks met the door of his study, and when the Ghoul’s voice followed, Papa knew he was in for a long day.

“Hey,” Before Copia could even respond, the door was being opened and his eyes were greeted by the sleek and feisty figure of the fire ghoul. Dewdrop leaned against the doorframe, he told him, “Something’s here for you,”

“What?” That was odd. Not that things - fanmail, letters, whatever else - never came for him, but they were commonly delivered to his personal chambers. The odd part was the way Dew had shown up just to tell him about it, “Here for me?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?” He asked but the ghoul only shrugged.

“Haven’t opened it. But it’s weird.”

Copia wasn’t sure if he was more curious, or worried. He turned in his chair now, papers forgotten for the moment. “Weird how?”

“Come and see for yourself,” As he left, Dewdrop flicked his tail and then it disappeared into the hallway. Papa knew he shouldn’t. He needed to stay, to get things done. Yet, he couldn’t help the urge to follow him. As if something was pulling him from his chair. Copia rose to his feet, and made his way after the ghoul in the distance.

He led him through the hall and down the main staircase. Before turning, and gearing them into the ghoul livingspace. A widened room with separate halls that would lead to ghoul dormitories, but the open area served as a nice space for them to hang out. Ahead, Papa could see two ghouls crowded around a small table. And when he got closer, he recognized them to be Aether and Swiss. Aether was especially close to whatever was on the table, nose twitching when he sniffed so curiously. Dew stepped to the side, hands on his hips.

“Guys, move.”

The other ghouls looked up, and backed away when Copia approached. Now that he could see what they were looking at, he was even more weirded out. A basket, it looked like, covered by a lumpy, stuffed-in sheet with a single folded piece of paper sat atop. A note, it looked like. It simply read “Papa” on the front. Copia’s brows furrowed, creasing the paint on his forehead. He looked at the mysterious package, to his ghouls, and then back down.

“Where did you get this?”

“It was left at the gate this morning,” Swiss answered, crossing his legs where he sat on the other side of the table.

“The gate?” Copia almost laughed, “This isn’t a prank, is it?”

“Nope,” and Dew shoved his clawed hands into his pockets, “Although that’d be hilarious.”

On the other side of Papa, Aether was taking another step back. He shook his head and crossed his arms, “It smells so strange,” He noted, tilting his head, “You should open it.”

“It smells strange? What does it smell like?”

All three ghouls exchanged a look. A hard to read expression, but it was enough to creep Copia out. He shivered, and when none of them answered, he reached instead for the note that was laid atop the blanket. It was written in unfamiliar handwriting, on thin, ordinary lined paper. He scanned the front and the back, before flipping it open. In big letters on the inside, the words read,

“Your problem now.”

Disturbing. A deeper confusion coursed through him and Papa turned back to his ghouls, “you are sure this isn’t a prank?”

“Not a chance,” Dew raised his hands innocently. Feeling defeated , Copia once again forced his attention back to the basket. He was almost scared to open it. He felt a pressure in his chest, an uneasiness. The circumstances were just so weird. But what choice did he really have?

“Alright,” He sighed. And Copia let his gloved fingers grace the edge of the basket. He hovered there for a second, before moving again. And when he did, he jumped backwards. Something inside the basket had moved, too. “Wh-what the hell!?”

“Dude,” Dew pushed him forward, “Open it!”

“What is it!?”

“We don’t know any more than you do.” A blatant lie.

Papa grumbled. He went to push and rub at his temples but halted when he remembered his face paint. He had to resort to a groan instead.

The thought that whatever was in the basket was alive was both alarming and very concerning. His hand crept forward to the blanket again, as he decided not to waste anymore time in getting to the bottom of it. Carefully, he removed the sides from their tucked position, and lifted the blanket from the basket.

It was barely in his hand for a second before he’d dropped it in shock. Papa gasped, stumbling backward and letting his mouth drop open. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to be inside- but it definitely wasn’t that. A tiny, wrapped up, sleeping little baby.

“What-what the fuck!?” He yelled , slapping his hand to his head. Way, way too startled to care about his paint anymore, “what.. what!!?”

The ghouls were looking at each other, but none of them seemed as surprised. They’d known, of course, what was in there the whole time- from the moment they’d picked it up, the sound of the infant’s heartbeat had been a giveaway.

Copia spun around to them, “what is the goddamn meaning of this!?”

But Dew shrugged, “I feel like we should be asking you that,”

“che cazzo vuoi dire!?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious,”

“No it isn’t!?”

“Well,” Swiss leaned forward on the table, “it must be yours.”

“My…..” Copia felt like he’d just hit a brick wall. His stomach absolutely dropped, and he stared blankly at the small baby in confusion and disbelief. “..it… n-no, it can’t be. It can’t be,”

“Why the hell else would it be here?”

“It-It’s not mine.”

“Dude-“

“It isn’t!” Stressed, Copia’s fingers raked through his hair, “It-It just can’t be!”

“Hey, Relax,” Aether placed a hand, soothingly to Copia’s back. Well, about as soothingly as pointed claws can manage, “we’ll figure this out,”

Inside the basket, all the commotion had begun to rouse the sleeping infant. Its hands grabbed weakly at the sheet it was swaddled in , eyes barely opening. Copia just watched. He could hardly breathe.

It… it couldn’t be….

..Could it?

Dew’s tail thumped against Copia’s leg, “why the fuck would someone leave you with their baby if it’s not yours?”

“Can you, please…” Papa groaned. He pulled a chair out from the table and slumped himself into it. “I need… to think for a minute. I just… oh my god…”

Swiss leaned a little closer. Nose angled toward the baby’s hair, “little thing’s super fresh too,” he said, then looked up, “what were you doing nine months ago? Or. I guess. Who?”

Copia remained slumped against the table. He shook his head, “how-how should I know..”

“Nine months ago… nine…” Aeth suddenly snapped his fingers, “We were still out on tour nine months ago,”

The realization settled in on all of them, and all three ghouls slowly turned their heads toward Papa. He was staring blankly at the table, unmoving, stiff as a board but the piercing red that painted his ears was a clear indication that he was in fact, still listening.

“..So, did you..?”

“-on tour?”

“I mean, that’s about right, but-”

“Please.” Copia groaned and leaned back in his chair. His head was pounding, even as he tried to think back to however many months ago, just entertaining the idea that this baby was somehow his had him shaken. What were the chances of this!? He felt… extremely unprepared. “Just… just let me breathe for one moment..”

The ghouls managed to silence themselves, and exchanged looks instead. They weren’t entirely sure how to feel, either. As humorous as it partially was, this was also a very, very serious deal. If this was, in fact, the child of an Emeritus.

The baby made a small, fussy noise and flexed its little hand again. Aether reached forward, allowing it to grab hold of his claw. He smiled, “Cute,”

“Do you think it came from on tour?” Dew asked, and leaned forward on the table beside Papa. The man was quiet for a second, mind running a mile a minute. It was moments until he answered. Quietly, palm against his forehead.

“It’s… it’s not impossible,” he groaned, “but-but unlikely, no? This wasn’t.. I mean, I..”

“I guess you’re a father now,” Dewdrop suddenly slapped him on the back, “Congratulations,”

“Fermare, we don’t know that,”

“There is literally no other reason this baby would be here right now,”

“You know, it’s addressed to ‘Papa’ and not to ‘Copia’, notice?” Aether pointed out, then. He picked the card up, and flipped it around on all sides, as if in search of a clue, “Maybe it came from someone inside the ministry? You know, a congregational member?”

Swiss shrugged, “Yeah, but on tour?”

“Those Sisters who come along and help out backstage?”

“Ohhhh,”

They both looked to Copia, awaiting an answer or reply but he just sat there, blank look on his face. His eyes descended toward the baby in the basket, who was looking at him now, too, and smiling. His heart felt a million things at once, “I can’t believe this..”

“What about a DNA test?” Aether suggested with a shrug, “You know, just to make sure.”

“Yes,” Papa swallowed. It was almost like the reality had started to settle in, and the longer he gazed upon the infant the realer it started to feel. Was it true? Was he really a father now? And if that were the case… who the hell was this baby’s mother?

He felt regret, fear and uncertainty. Guilt. Copia leaned forward, exhaling deeply and covering the upper part of his face with his already paint-stained gloves. He shook his head, mumbling something not quite audible. The ghouls looked at each other. And Dew took a step back, “I’m gonna go get Sister,”

“No,” Copia lifted his head, “Please, per favore, she cannot know about this!”

“What?” The ghoul let out an amused hiss, one of laughter, “You expect to hide an entire baby from her?” He could practically see Papa sweating.

“we-well… eh…”

“They’re gonna know about this one way or another.”

He knew they were right. Groaning again, Copia just shook his head and slumped back in the chair. He didn’t notice when Dewdrop turned and left the room, but even then, he didn’t care. His body felt numb, and he stared and stared at that little bundle on the table. How could something so small carry such a heavy weight of responsibility? He couldn’t even imagine what this would do to his schedule. To his… everything. Copia trembled.

“I.. I-I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby,” And Aether placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it there.

“It’s alright,” He did his best to comfort, “You’ll figure it out,”

“How could this have happened…” Papa shook his head, slowly. And when he turned, and looked up at the ghoul beside him, his eyes appeared damp, “How could I be such an idiot?”

“You aren’t an idiot,”

“The thought of..” He paused, and his lip quivered. Copia turned his head away, emotions hitting him somewhat suddenly. He told him, “...the thought of someone, someone carrying my child, while I am far away, with no idea, no way to care for her, to be there or to help… that breaks my heart,”

“Hey,” Aether continued to pat his shoulder, “Hey, It’s alright. And… besides. She seemed to know where you are, yeah? She left the baby here. So.. if she’d wanted you for anything, don’t you think she’d have reached out?”

Papa hung his head, low. The words weren’t nearly as comforting as they might’ve sounded. Whoever this woman was, she likely wanted nothing to do with him. Nor with the baby, apparently. The longer he thought about it, the sadder he became.

Copia rose from his seat. The baby gazed up at him, eyes wide and curious, and made a small babbling sound. The man sighed, “I don’t know. I don’t know.. where this came from, or what’s going on here, but. We certainly aren’t going to leave it here, and certainly not without a home.”

From the basket, he lifted the little baby, still wrapped and swaddled in its blankets. It was warm, precious, and when its little head lay against him he felt himself melt. He mumbled quietly, “You are certainly adorable..” And brought one finger up to let it grab. The baby giggled, gently when it did and Copia couldn’t fight his smile. “I wonder if you have a name,”

“I guess you’ll pick the name,”

“I guess…” Papa sighed. He only watched, still and mesmerized by the tiny being in his arms, how sweet and sound, and resting on the possibility that this baby was his own. He just couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. It had been so quick, so sudden. And yet.. after only ten seconds in his arms, Copia knew. If this baby was his… if it was really true. He wouldn’t stop at anything to be the best, the best Papa that he could possibly be.

[hinamie]

shhhh

[musubiki]

danmarch 🐉💎

[egophiliac]

i don't think u need to worry about poppy ikemen anymore, new ride kamens character is kr kamui who is our lord and savior dan kuroto

DAN THE DANGEROUS ZOMBIE MAN!!!!!! I was SO excited when I saw the reveal, he is absolutely the funniest possible character choice hands-down. oh my god. I'm so glad he made it into this game.

also Kamui just looks incredible. instant favorite. this is the kind of man I can picture standing naked on a cliffside and screaming at everyone about his imminent ascension towards godhood. he is the incarnation of that one iconic Gina Linetti scene.

[cnth-rb]

[Esp]

Los hermanos cachondos, quiero decir, los hermanos homúnculos.

[Eng]

The horny siblings, I mean, the homunculi siblings.

[allthegothihopgirls]

batman and robin product advertisement panels from the 70s never get old to me.. u cannot tell me dick was not BEGGING to get 'circus' with it.

[itwaslegendary]

Oh my god, she's insane, she wrote a song about me Taylor Swift — I Bet You Think About Me Music Video

[bitterseaproduction]

Angsty Bilbo dying Bagginshield art giving me another story idea~ 😂😭💕

But no, seriously? A play on the popular time travel fix-it, but one where Bilbo dies protecting Thorin during the Battle of Five Armies? And Thorin is inconsolable, I can’t even. And he might pull himself together long enough to stabilize Erebor, but there is No Way he can be a good ruler in his grief, so he has to pass it on. (I was going to say to Dain just to twist that knife a little harder, but actually there are reasons hinted below on why Fíli & Kíli must have lived.) And Thorin just… he wanders, probably. A shell of himself for the rest of his days.

And yet, when he inevitably passes away, he awakens on the road to the Shire. And he’s younger. And he’s so confused, quickly suspecting he must be dead and this is nothing like what he was taught to expect. But then his instant impulse to check Bag End has him walking in on that same meeting from so many years ago, his Company intact, the wizard smiling at him, introducing him to… to…

Bilbo. His Bilbo. The sight of him makes Thorin want to weep and hold him and never let go again, but he is instantly terrified to do anything, because is this a dream? Will he wake? What happens if he says something new, will ‘this’ be ruined somehow? He doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to change anything, save for the end. The very end.

But, even as he strives to mimic himself, he knows something is wrong. He’s off-script from the start purely due to his shock, but he tries to recover, get back on track, and within words, he’s managed it. The discussion is righting itself, and no one there could possibly know the difference, right?

And yet, Bilbo stares at him. From the instant Thorin walked in, Bilbo was staring, looking lost. As he had before, that first time, but it wasn’t the same. Bilbo had been confused then as well, but it had been a light, anxious uncertainty then. This time? He was frowning, his expression tense.

His eyes haunted.

Because Bilbo has also lived that night before. Just once as far as that night was concerned, but it was familiar to him. So familiar. That first night had haunted him for decades, to the very end of his long, long life, when he thought he might know rest, and perhaps — if he was truly as lucky as some once claimed — he might get to see his friends again. See Thorin again.

Instead he had slept, drifted away, and awoken to a battle about to start.

And he had questioned it, had stumbled that first time, but he adjusted. He tried to save Thorin. To save them all.

And he failed. Again.

Then, when he finally slept for the first time afterwards, he awoke to the battle starting again.

And again.

And he tried, over and over, day after the same horrid day to find a way to get through. And sometimes Thorin lived. Sometimes the princes did. Sometimes, new people died. The wrong people.

Once, in his darkest moments, he thought that perhaps someone was trying to teach him humility, teach him to accept fate as it was and not try to fight it, not change anything. And so he went through the motions as well as he could remember them after all those years, following them to the letter, save for when he sobbed all the harder when it was done.

He sobbed again, the relief bone-deep, when he awoke again the next day, the battle still awaiting him.

He lost count of his attempts, and no one could rightly vouch for his state of mind when he finally resorted to the one thing he had refused to try: Not since that fourth (or fifth?) time, when he managed to be there for the fight and threw himself in Azog’s way, but Thorin pulled him out of the way, and screamed at him with such outrage and fear and despair in the few beats he bought by pushing Azog over, that Bilbo never attempted it again.

Until that final day. And that time, Bilbo didn’t give Thorin a chance to stop him.

And it broke a heart Bilbo thought long since shattered to hear Thorin scream, to feel him pick him up and hold him close and hear his voice like that. But the words faded soon enough, and he couldn’t feel anything, nothing except for regret and acceptance, because this was different. He felt it. This time, he would not awaken again, and that was fine. He had saved his king, kept all of his dwarves safe that last time. If that was to be the last, then that was all he could ask for. It was alright. He could sleep.

Then he woke up.

Not outside Erebor, but inside a hole. His hole. Bag End.

He walked outside, stood in the sun, and watched a wizard walk up the road to his door.

He did not understand.

[sciderman]

thinking of spider-man's first silly little suit (and his silly little webwings)

thinking of you all the time (webwings)

[canisalbus]

I may be stupid and you might already have one but if not have you considered making a WEBTOON about the 2 best doggos as a story about their weird and wonderful lives would be great

Not stupid at all! I've definitely thought about it a lot, but comic making is hard work, it's extremely time consuming (either that or my method of drawing is just absurdly inefficient. Probably both). I don't think it's something I could just pick up and realistically fit into my daily life, at least not at the moment. I'm just one person with very limited time and resources. Sorry!

[busiest-bee]

I drew him being miserable (bcuz he’s a wet cat of a man) but felt bad. Gave him lollipop.

[batcavescolony]

I was talking to an idiot and I need validation.

[bobonboon]

Hey uh… *cough* did I mention i have commissions open…and I wanna get a lock on my door

I take venmo……..btw….oops drops my art examplez

Oh… haha. Howd that get there….anyway…did you know i also do emotes…? Hahaha itd be so funny bu-

(you sucker punch me in the jaw justifiably and I drop my emotes)

Ok. Thats. Thats fair. Enough of my stupid advertising good night. More commission details in my pinned

[bonebabbles]

God the new ultimate guide sucks

It's not JUST the awful art, either. The art's just worth mentioning because even if the book's info had been terrible or contained nothing new, really cute art can make it still worth having.

But, no, it's even full of recycled lines we've been hearing for years like "Bramblestar Can Match Squirrelflight's Fire Not Contain It," and that's when it DOES get everything right. These entries leave out major, important details (making them bad summaries) and are sometimes even straight-up incorrect.

SUMMARY THOUGHTS

Leafpool is said to have watched Brambleclaw kill Hawkfrost to save Firestar-- but for one, no, she was not there because Ashfur was still leading her and Squilf towards the scene. For two, no, Brambleclaw did not kill Hawkfrost just to save Firestar, it was self-defense. Hawkfrost had him pinned and was going to kill him.

They're REAL cute about Leafpool's death, too, neglecting to mention WHY the Sisters needed to be saved at all and just saying Leafpool's "generosity" lead to her death in that cave-in.

I'm not even going to get into everything on Bramble's entry jesus christ.

Sagewhisker's entry is ESPECIALLY fucken' dandy, framing Yellowfang's Secret like she was simply waiting patiently for Yellow to realize her 'destiny' and not actively shoving it on her at every opportunity.

Leopardstar's entry states that romantic interest in Tigerstar was part of her motivation. "Perhaps she'd hoped he would be her mate" please speak to a woman irl for once in your life.

Gray Wing's entry forgot that the reason he "blamed himself" for Bright Stream's death is because he was literally staring at his big strong brother too much and tripped on a root in front of him. It IS his fault she died.

Clear Sky/Skystar's entry is just obscene. "He regretted abandoning his son and after a fire, he encouraged him to live with him" instead of "saw his teenage child was useful now and bullied and belittled the kid and his uncle into letting Thunder come with him." "Retaining his fierceness towards his cats and outsiders which caused his son to leave" instead of "murdering, brutalizing, and abusing everyone around him caused Thunder to leave." I'll just say this tho; "Fierce" is an interesting way to spell "Cruel."

It's interesting that they don't point out that a major part of Jagged Peak's arc was proving he was "Just As Good" as every other cat in spite of his disability, thanks to his introduced-and-pregnant-in-the-same-book wife becoming his life coach, only earning Clear Sky's respect after being allowed to physically lead a patrol in Blazing Star. Instead they frame him finding his place through taking care of kits, which... was something he seemed to resent in the actual series, considering how the books suddenly treat Gray Wing's protective treatment of him as a terrible thing in Blazing Star because he "didn't give him a chance". But at the same time I actually strongly dislike Jagged Peak and his messy, frustrating character arc so I'm not really UPSET with it. Just... noting it. I suppose this is the official direction they're taking away from it?

Shadowstar's entry is barely even 3 paragraphs yikes.

SHORT STORY THOUGHTS

And if you're wondering if the 4 brand new stories they smooshed into the end in a desperate attempt to make the rush job worth buying are good? No. Of course not. They're all slop.

Story 1: Firestar and Graystripe

First one's a marginally cute story about Graystripe and Firestar which is setting up the framing device linking the mini-tales together. They both remember this situation where Firestar fell into a ditch wrong. The punchline is that Thunderstar remembers it perfectly and they're both like, "WOW! Too bad Thunderstar's memory sucks!"

It's not terrible, but it does feel a bit pointless. But, hey, if you want more Firestar and Graystripe in the series that tosses them fanservice at every turn, who am I to judge?

Story 2: Dovewing and Ivypool

The next one is the Dovewing/Ivypool reconciliation passage everyone's talking about. It's... fine, but immensely dissatisfying to me.

Dovewing is apparently having problems adjusting to her Clan, grapples a little bit with the fact she has no friends but is going to be finding meaning in helping tigerHeartstar "bring the new ShadowClan into existence." She ultimately decides that she needs to talk to her sister, and begs for reassurance that Ivypool believes in her, feeling that her support can help her get through this difficult time in her life.

I think its biggest problem is that Dovewing was not the right choice for the POV here.

Dove was never the one responsible for the rift in their relationship. Ivypool is. Ivypool is the one who was jealous, willing to sabotage anything that would put Dovewing closer to Tigerheart, and continues to be generally aggressive towards her. So when Dovewing is reaching out to Ivypool in hopes of them reconciling, it feels wrong because Ivypool is the one that should be reaching out to Dovewing. SHE is the one who has some things to apologize for, and to show how much she loves and misses her.

It's even kind of frustrating, because Dovewing can never catch a break. She has to have these problems to force her to reach out, Ivypool even ends up suggesting that she leave and come home and take her kids with her, but in the end even a LITTLE bit of assurance from her aggressive sister helps.

I feel super bad for Dovewing, man. She deserves better than this cheap writing. What was the point of such an unsatisfying, rushed reconciliation, shoved into a crummy field guide, when we KNOW from the newest book that they're just going to use tension between them as part of the drama anyway?

shouldn't have even been written, imo. Even ends off with, "They'll always have each other :)" which is so... cliche. It's TIRED. Are any of you really happy with just getting a retconned platitude in a good-for-nothing field guide, instead of seeing complicated, INTERESTING feelings in a main book?

Story 3: Alderheart and Twigbranch

A tale of Cherryfall getting sick during TBC and Alderheart sneaks back into the territory to treat her. Also Crowfeather has a scene where he yells at him. Charming.

Twigbranch comes up with a diversion while Alderheart does his work, which is cute. It's a fine story.

Story 4: Clear Sky

Trash. Three dogs spawn in the middle of a gathering so that Skystar can have an uwu big boy sendoff saving his grandkit. Then he goes to StarClan and throws a fit because they can't give him ANOTHER life, becoming so upset that he attacks the nearest woman. Naturally, Shadowstar brushes it off because it's not the first time Clear Sky has pummeled her in the midst of an adult tantrum and this book series thinks violence is fine if their favorite sadboy does it.

Then Gray Wing brings him to the magic mirror pool where you can see the living, to confirm that Star Flower is ok and that makes him feel better.

Then it launches into Firestar saying "ouuuugh yum I LOVE the taste of his butthole. Clear Sky is so misunderstood, He Just Loved Too Much."

to which Graystripe responds, "Yes, he was a good and amazing person and his farts smells SO good, and can you believe that some people think StarClan punished his Clan for his arrogance? As if he ever did anything wrong, ever?"

Firestar, indignant, refutes it with, "Ugh!! StarClan would NEVER be interesting, we don't punish living cats we just float around and make vague, frustrating prophecies that do nothing but pad the word count. Why cant ppl understand that, gosh."

who wrote this? Gray Wing??

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ayyy im back with another Unedited human au snippet <3 it's almost entirely dialogue oopsies <3

~

Eddie slows in putting his coat on - Barnaby isn’t sticking around to chat with fellow staff like usual. He’s in a rush, scrambling to grab his jacket and hurrying from behind the bar. He dashes through the door, looking like a man on a mission.

The door Mr. Frankly had just vanished through. 

Could he be…? No, Barnaby seems like a good man. But he had seemed a little pushy with Mr. Frankly, from what Eddie could tell. 

It couldn’t hurt to make sure.

Eddie frowns deeply as he goes outside, wincing slightly at the first burst of cold air after hours spent in a warm building. He’s just in time to see Barnaby jog up behind Frankly and close his car door before he can get in. Barnaby immediately leans against the door with his arms crossed, pinning it shut and blocking Frankly from the driver’s seat.

Eddie’s stomach plummets. Before he knows it, he’s speed-walking across the parking lot towards them, a fire burning in his chest and his hands curled into fists.

Frankly says something loud enough that Eddie can almost hear, his voice echoing in the empty lot. As Eddie watches, Barnaby pokes Frankly’s chest, making him stagger back a step.

“Hey!” Eddie barks. 

Both of them jump and whip around - Barnaby’s eyebrows shoot into his hair, while Frankly’s lowers into a flat line. 

“Eddie?” Barnaby says.

At the same time, Frankly says, “Mr. Dear?”

The two of them look at each other in surprise. Eddie pays the exchange no mind. He stops by Frankly, trying to slightly angle himself in front of him without making it too obvious.

“Is everything all right here?” he asks, looking Barnaby up and down. He really hopes this won’t come to blows - Eddie can throw a punch well enough, but Barnaby is an imposing figure. Eddie already knows he’d likely lose, but as long as he can buy Frankly a couple extra seconds…

“No, actually, everything is not fine,” Frankly says in a ticked-off - and strangely scolding - tone. 

Barnaby, not breaking eye-contact with Frankly, counters with, “Everything’s peachy, Ed.”

“You sure about that?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his tone amicable. 

“Scout’s honor.”

“Please,” Frankly scoffs, “you were never a boy scout. And that’s not the point - I am trying to get home!”

“You are trying to die in the most avoidable way possible.”

Eddie shoots Frankly a concerned look. “You’re what?”

“I am perfectly sober,” Frankly says.

Barnaby raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Your face is flushed.”

“It is not!”

Eddie winces. “It, uh, it is. A little.”

“It’s none of your business,” Frankly seethes. 

“Listen,” Barnaby sighs. He leans heavier against the car and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna be the one 'ta call Julie and deliver the news that her beloved Frankie went and got himself killed at the taco bell intersection.”

Frankly makes a high and derisive noise. “Excuse you, I have class. I’d die outside of Howdy’s.”

“Please, he’d turn your memorial into part of the gift shop. I can already see the signs - ‘dead friend sale, five percent off!’”

“I’m worth at least thirty percent.”

Eddie clears his throat and gestures between the two of them. “You two… know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” Frankly mutters.

Barnaby grins. “Aw, you’re just saying that. It’s okay - I know ya love me, Frankie. You don’t have to say it.”

“I do not.”

“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”

Frankly rolls his eyes. “You’re unbearable.”

“And yet…”

Eddie heaves a sigh - of relief or exhaustion, he’s not sure - and drags a hand over his face. “Alright. Good, I - good to know.”

“What, did’ja think I was attacking him?” After a moment of prolonged, awkward silence, Barnaby’s teasing smile drops. “Oh. You did.”

“Barnaby? Attack me?” Frankly snorts. “Give him some credit - he’s smarter than he looks.”

“Yeah, I’d have better chances taking on a pack’a hyenas!” Barnaby lets out a hearty cackle. “At least then we’d all get a laugh out of it!”

“So I misjudged the situation pretty terribly,” Eddie says, inching to the side to give Frankly his personal space back. “My apologies.”

“Don’t sweat it, Ed. I know Frank may look like a bundle of sticks, but he’s petrified wood all the way through! Pure stone, you know.” Barnaby grins and leans towards Eddie. He whispers conspiratorially, “‘Cept when it comes to holdin’ his liquor. Then he’s a total lightweight.”

“Barnaby,” Frankly hisses.

“Practically paper!”

“That’s enough, thank you!” Frankly makes an attempt at shoving Barnaby away from the car door, but Barnaby widens his stance. It’s like watching someone try to move a tree.

“See, this is how I know he shouldn’t be driving,” Barnaby says conversationally to Eddie. “If he were sober, I’d be the one drunk - punch-drunk, that is.”

Eddie isn’t sure whether or not he should laugh - was that a joke? Barnaby seems fond of them, but… surely Frankly isn’t a violent person. Frankly lets out a growl of frustration and clumsily tries to bodyslam Barnaby. Eddie inches back a step.

“Alright Frankie, you had your fun.” Barnaby scruffs Frankly like a misbehaving cat and holds him at arm's length. He holds out a hand. “C’mon. Keys.”

“Never.”

“Have it your way. I’ll go ahead and call Poppy, tell her that you’ve forgotten the many dangers of-”

“Oh, fine,” Frankly spits. He yanks his keys out of his pocket and slaps them into Barnaby’s waiting hand. 

Barnaby flicks the keys as Frankly stalks to the passenger side door and yanks it open. “Choose a place for dinner, we’ll swing by and pick it up - my treat.”

“Obviously your treat,” Frankly grumbles. “As if I’d-”

The slam of his door cuts off whatever he says next, though Eddie can see him still talking in the car. His phone screen illuminates his irritated expression as he - presumably - looks up places for takeout. 

“Well, I’m glad you were here to stop him from doin’ somethin’ everyone would regret,” Eddie says. “Mr. Frankly-” 

“Mr. Frankly?” Barnaby snorts. “You’re not one of his students, are ya?”

“I’m just bein’ polite. He set the tone by referrin’ to me by Mr. Dear, so I’m tryin’ to respect that line in the sand.”

Barnaby shakes his head, grinning. “Just call him Frank. He puts up a big show of bein' a grouch, but he’s really a big softie. Though don’t - don’t try to pick a fight with him. Ever. You’ll lose.”

“Wasn’t plannin' on it.” Eddie makes a mental note to keep calling him Mr. Frankly, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like they’re friends, anyway. More like… acquaintances. Occasional Run-Into-Each-Other strangers. 

[pushing500]

Casual reminder that the local teddybear himbo is also a bloodthirsty cultist and he could be coming for you xoxo

also rest in peace Husk, I guess

Blackdragon realises he doesn't have to be beautiful to live a life surrounded by people he loves

And last but not least Dire Wolf is a child now!! She's super cute for a future psychite-dependent swamp creature, and I love her to bits. The older cultists are currently in the process of building a cozy cottagecore bedroom for the three girls to share <3

First | Next | Previous