#angry dog boys are like my specialty

[ask-mystical-bangtan]

beware of dog.

((hello! admin nyx here, with our first story and first taste of backstory with a couple of the boys! i hope you all like it :3))

warnings: violence, blood, gore, dead bodies, etc.

length: 2, 678 words

Hobi had known this day would eventually come, and he had been dreading it the entire time. Of course Jungkook would eventually go through the typical stages of puberty – he was, after all, a good portion human. More than Hobi himself, at least.

The little wolf boy sat attentively in front of Hobi, his fluffy ears perked forward.

Hobi was momentarily lost for words. He knew how human puberty worked, as he had done extensive research on it when he had first realized this would someday happen, he just wasn’t sure where to start. Or what areas to avoid. He had already had a tamer variation of The Talk with Jungkook a few years back, but this was a bit different. Part of him hoped Jungkook could figure most of that part out by himself so Hobi didn’t have to get involved.

“Alright, well, Jungkook…you’ve probably noticed some…changes with your body, right?” he started hesitantly.

Jungkook nodded. One of his ears still flopped a bit when he moved too quickly.

“That’s normal, and it happens to everyone like you, so it’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Another nod. “Some things you could expect are…well, you’re going to get taller, probably very quickly. Your voice is going to change, and you’re probably going to start developing some hair on your face and…other areas…”

Jungkook cut him off.

“What about my teeth?”

“Your…what?” Hobi paused, confused. Jungkook had already lost all of his baby teeth, and as far as Hobi was aware, there was nothing wrong with his adult teeth.

“My teeth. They hurt. Why?”

“They hurt? Wait, open your mouth.”

Jungkook obeyed, tipping his head back and letting his bottom jaw go slack. Hobi leaned closer, peering at his teeth, and noticed something a bit unusual. His canines seemed…bigger than the last time Hobi had seen them, and most of teeth were starting to slant into pointed edges. Then, Hobi realized something.

Jungkook was a werewolf, not a human. There were some similarities, obviously, but things would be slightly different for Jungkook as his wolf side developed alongside his human side.

“Right. Okay, so I guess I didn’t think of this earlier, but since you’re a werewolf, other things are going to change as well.”

“Like what?” Jungkook really didn’t seemed fazed by this at all. All the research Hobi had done had indicated that most young teens hated having these talks. Jungkook was mostly just curious, and maybe a bit excited.

“Like, well, like your teeth. And probably your senses, and some other, more wolfish instincts might start to become more prominent.” Hobi hesitated. “But if anything unusual happens, I want you to come tell me, okay? In-in regards to the wolf thing, that is,” he quickly clarified. He really didn’t want to have that misunderstood and have Jungkook come running to him every single time he deemed something a bit weird.

Jungkook nodded vigorously.

As the werewolf ran off, Hobi felt a sort of pre-emptive tiredness drag at his body. This was going to be a long, complicated few years.

----

It had been nearly three years since Jungkook had noticed the first changes in his body, and it had only gone downhill from there.

The inside of his mouth was covered in scars and sores from his now much bigger teeth, and it had taken him a long time to adjust to his claws – or, more specifically, to picking things up with his claws and touching Hobi without cutting him. He was now also taller than Hobi by at least several inches, his shoulders were nearly twice the size of the pixie’s, and he was able to lift Hobi over his head. Hobi hadn’t been very happy about his adoptive baby brother being both bigger and stronger than him, but he had come to terms with it eventually.

Within the past couple months, Jungkook had started to notice some more unusual changes.

Sometimes when he woke in the morning, his back and legs ached, the feeling very similar to how he remembered the worst of his growing pains; his mood had gotten increasingly worse and with very violent mood swings; and Hobi had yelled at him a couple times for literally growling at the pixie, something Jungkook had never done before.

Today had been one of those times.

The first time it happened, Hobi had been much more forgiving, telling Jungkook that everyone had bad days and that was probably why he had snapped at Hobi. But the couple times it had happened after that, Hobi had been less than impressed. Jungkook wasn’t sure why he had done it – he couldn’t even remember making the conscious decision to do so. As a sort of punishment, Hobi had sent him out to the woods to gather firewood by himself. Snow had just started to fall, and they would need to stock up on a few things in the next couple weeks.

Jungkook paused in his gathering to rub at his knee. His bones were aching again.

He could hear voices coming from somewhere down the path that snaked through the woods. He looked up, his ears perking forward, and caught some tidbits of their conversation. From what he could hear, it was a couple young girls, out for an autumn jog.

Slowly, keeping his steps as quiet as possible, Jungkook slipped over to a fallen tree and ducked behind it.

It was rare that anyone came this way, but Hobi had told Jungkook since the first day he had lived in the cabin that no one should see them. So Jungkook stayed still and silent as the women grew nearer and their smell grew stronger.

That was weird.

Jungkook’s senses were heightened, naturally, but he had never been this bothered by someone’s scent before. Something about it was…irritating, almost. He could feel something rumbling in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it was a growl or something much worse.

It wasn’t until the wood of the fallen tree splintered under his nails that Jungkook realized he was gripping it. He suddenly felt irrationally angry.

Something else welled up in his chest.

Something…primal.

He shook his head, trying to chase it off. It was just something about one of the girls’ perfume, he told himself. Once they were gone, it would go away too.

But it was just getting worse the closer they came.

He considered calling out for Hobi, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was some kind of low growl, and he could feel his upper lip curling, baring his huge teeth. He lowered his head, nails gouging into the wood of the tree, the fur on his tail bristling as he tried desperately to fight off whatever the hell was happening. Every muscle in his body was tightened, saliva gathering in the back of his mouth. He squirmed uncomfortably, feeling the dull ache spread from his back and legs to the rest of him. His whole body felt like it was throbbing.

When he heard the girls’ footsteps very near his hiding place, he had to fight off the sudden urge to leap at them.

Slowly, he lifted his head and peered at them over the log, sealing his mouth shut to stop his noises. As soon as he laid eyes on them, the world started trembling, and everything hazed red.

----

The instant Hobi heard the screams, he dropped the carrots he had been peeling for dinner – he had been trying, desperately, to get Jungkook to eat more vegetables – and ran out of the cabin, not bothering to grab a jacket.

He hadn’t been able to tell exactly where they had been coming from, but it sounded generally like the area near the trail. He made his way there as quickly as possible, worried for Jungkook but also wondering who the hell had screamed. Jungkook’s voice hadn’t gotten to that pitch in at least two months.

What he found when he got there made him want to cry, scream, vomit and run away all at once.

He knew it was Jungkook because of the tail. There was no mistaking the fluffy fur, the white tip. Everything else, though. Everything else was not Jungkook.

It was…some kind of monster.

It was huge, at least half the size of the trees around them, its claws nearly the length of Hobi’s forearm.

There was blood everywhere. What snow there was on the ground was red, drops of the dark liquid spattered on the trees and ground, little rivers of it making their way downhill, winding through the grass. One of the young women was still alive.

The other…well, Hobi could see her hand on the ground near his foot, and the slimy, fat worms of her intestines spilling out from a huge gash in her stomach a few yards away. Her head was half caved-in, one of her eyeballs popped right out and crushed on the ground, her mouth open in a perpetual scream of terror.

Hobi turned, and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground.

There was a noise – a roar, a growl, some kind of wild, vicious noise – and Hobi covered his mouth as he turned back, determined not to vomit again.

The other women screamed, but it was cut short.

She was dead.

Hobi said something then, but he wasn’t too sure what it was. It might have been Jungkook’s name, or maybe it was just a wordless sob. Either way, it got the beast’s attention. His huge head swung around, and Hobi felt his breath catch in his throat when he caught sight of his feral eyes, saw the way his pupil contracted when he saw Hobi. The woman’s body was in his mouth, one of her legs gone and half of her torso ripped up beyond recognition as a human being.

He started to advance toward Hobi, painfully slowly, and as he did he tightened his jaw, and Hobi sobbed when he heard the sickening crack of the woman’s bones under his teeth. Her body convulsed, blood bubbling up around her lips. He dropped her, and the last of her ribs snapped under his foot as he stepped over her.

Hobi backed up until he felt a tree at his back.

He was terrified, he couldn’t feel his hands. This wasn’t Jungkook, he kept telling himself. Jungkook wouldn’t do this. Jungkook wouldn’t kill someone.

But all of a sudden, with the beast’s face a few inches in front of his own, he wasn’t so sure. There was blood and saliva dripping from his mouth, strings of human flesh and clothes caught between his massive, jagged teeth. He was snarling, his ferocious eyes pinning Hobi to his spot. Hobi could feel himself shaking.

Jungkook’s mouth opened, and Hobi could smell the blood on his breath, could see it staining his teeth and pooling in the corners of his mouth. One of Jungkook’s massive hands slammed on the ground next to Hobi and he shrieked, flinching back. His hands were grasping at the tree behind him, and he swore he felt his bones tremble when Jungkook growled, the sound rumbling from the very back of his throat.

Hobi stared up at his baby brother, unable to look away, unable to stop the tears leaking from his eyes or the sobs wracking his body. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to die.

“Jung-k…Jungkook….” His voice trembled, and it was barely loud enough for him to hear.

The monster snarled, and Hobi screamed when he felt white-hot pain shoot up his arm, Jungkook’s claws gouging into his flesh. He felt warm blood drip from his fingertips onto the ground, and he started bawling for real, unable to form words anymore.

He was so, so scared.

He slammed his eyes shut, cringing back into himself in preparation for what he knew was coming, but to his surprise, it never did.

“H…Hobi?”

Hobi’s eyes shot open.

Jungkook was staring at him with wide eyes. Jungkook. Not that thing, that monster. Jungkook.

Hobi sobbed and threw his arms around the boy’s shoulders, letting his weak knees give out. Jungkook’s hands hesitated, and Hobi could feel the werewolf’s body shaking, could hear his laboured breathing.

“What happened?” Jungkook’s voice broke. His big, warm hands settled on Hobi’s back. “Did I…did I do this?”

Hobi didn’t answer, choosing instead to bury his face against the cleft of Jungkook’s neck and tighten his hold on him. He didn’t want to say, didn’t want to blame Jungkook for this. It wasn’t his fault, really. He clearly hadn’t been in control.

“Hobi. Did I do this?” Jungkook’s voice and hands were both shaking as he grasped Hobi’s shoulders gently and drew him far enough away to see his face. The werewolf’s big blue eyes were scared, tears budding in their corners. His mouth trembled, blood still staining his cheeks and teeth and hands. “Please tell me,” he whispered. His eyes searched Hobi’s face. “Please.”

Slowly, Hobi nodded.

One of Jungkook’s hands left him to cover his mouth.

“Jungkook, no, this wasn’t your fault…”

Hobi saw the boy’s eyes flicker to the huge, raw wound on Hobi’s forearm.

“You weren’t in control, you didn’t do this!”

Jungkook drew away entirely, and turned to look behind him. He stared at the remnants of the two young women, and Hobi forced himself not to look, focusing instead on the way Jungkook’s ears fell and his tail drew between his knees. He said Jungkook’s name again, and set a hand on his shoulder, but Jungkook didn’t acknowledge him. After a second, the boy sunk into a crouch, his hands covering his face. His broad shoulders trembled, and Hobi felt awful.

“Jungkook…”

“Go back to the cabin.”

Jungkook’s voice cracked. Hobi went to touch him again, but the werewolf moved away.

“Please. Please just go.”

Hobi reluctantly did as he said, walking back to the cabin with his arm cradled against his chest. He only glanced back once, and felt his heart break when he saw Jungkook sitting there covered in blood and self-hatred.

----

Four hours later, Jungkook returned to the cabin. He had washed all the blood off himself, but it was clear everything else still stuck with him. Hobi was sitting on the floor near the fire, his arm cleaned and bandaged. It would heal quickly, given his magic blood, but had been a bad enough injury that it would need a few days.

Jungkook stood next to him for a moment, his head down, eyes covered in shadow from his brow.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Hobi smiled softly, reaching out to touch his knee gently.

“It’s okay, Kookie. It wasn’t your fault.”

Jungkook sat down next to him on his knees, hands clenched in fists around the fabric of his ripped pants. His bottom lip trembled as he glanced up at Hobi, eyes teary. His ears were low, hidden among his wild hair. Hobi lifted his hand and pet one of the boy’s fluffy ears, grinning.

“It’s okay.”

Jungkook leaned closer, pressing his head to Hobi’s chest. He was whining softly, though his shoulders seemed to relax a bit when he felt Hobi loop a hand around his head and stroke his ears. Hobi pressed a kiss to his head and murmured little reassurances against his hair, his eyes lidded.

After a moment, Jungkook pulled back and moved to lay on the floor, curling his body around Hobi and laying his head near the pixie’s hand. Hobi smiled widely and gently pet his head.

Jungkook whined again, and Hobi realized he was looking at the bandages on his arm, and shook his head a little.

“I’ll be fine. It’ll heal in a couple days, you’ll see,” he said as happily as he could, flicking Jungkook’s nose. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but eventually seemed satisfied with this and laid his head down again. His fluffy tail rested over Hobi’s legs, and Hobi felt completely surrounded by the werewolf, and, surprisingly, the safest he’d ever felt.

[bananonbinary]

Time for a Salty Meta Post about Martin!

people who’ve followed this blog for a bit know that spending six hours combing through text for some goddamn sources is my specialty, so i compiled every time jon ever talked about martin’s work in season 1. which for the record, he stopped complaining about all the way back in episode 26, where he was angry that martin of all people got hurt.

things jon gets mad at martin for:

not being able to find records that don’t exist

not being able to find someone based only on a first name

the Dog

not wearing trousers in his off-hours

being the one that got caught up in the jane prentiss thing

mag 004 and mag 012 both have jon taking potshots at martin over research that was proven accurate by outside sources

things jon has never once complained about:

martin not understanding the filing system and just putting stuff away at random

martin being clumsy, constantly ruining things, spilling tea everywhere everyday, etc

martin turning in incompetent, poorly-edited, or badly formatted reports

martin not understanding the terminology used, skills expected, etc., and generally being extremely new to the field

please for the love of god stop making martin the silly bumbling idiot who can’t do anything right just because he doesn’t have a formal education. there’s zero evidence for it in the text, and it’s really weird to act like a 4 year degree would outweigh the *10 years* of job experience he has, not just in academia, but in the institute itself by season one. my boy has worked there longer than ANY of the rest of the main cast. screw you guys.

tl;dr: martin is never once shown to be bad at his job, jon pretty much only ever gets mad at him for the really stupid first impression and also not finding stuff that no one else was able to find either. after martin got hurt, jon talks about his research basically the same way he talks about tim’s or sasha’s work.

fucking proof under the cut:

(i didnt include the s1 finale or martin’s statement bc that’s just...two entire episodes of them talking to each other, but there isn’t really any notable Martin Complaints in either of them imo)

I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I’m going to peel him.

[pre-launch trailer]

.

Well, technically three, but I don’t count Martin as he’s unlikely to contribute anything but delays.

[...] Alongside this Tim, Sasha and, yes, I suppose, Martin will be doing some supplementary investigation to see what details may be missing from what we have.

[MAG001 Anglerfish]

.

Martin couldn’t find any records of Ex Altiora as a title in existent catalogues of esoteric or similar literature, so I assigned Sasha to double-check. Still nothing.

[MAG004 Pageturner]

.

I had Martin conduct a follow-up interview with Mr. Woodward last week, but it was unenlightening. Apparently there have been no further bags at number 93 and in the intervening years he has largely discounted many of the stranger aspects of his experience. I wasn’t expecting much, as time generally makes people inclined to forget what they would rather not believe, but at least it got Martin out of the Institute for an afternoon, which is always a welcome relief.

[MAG005 Thrown Away]

.

Martin was unable to find the exact date the original house was built but the earliest records he could find list it as being bought by Walter Fielding in 1891.

[...]

We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

[MAG008 Burned Out]

.

According to Martin, who was here when they took this statement, it was at this point in writing that Mr. Herbert announced he needed some sleep before continuing. He was shown to the break room where he went to sleep on the couch. He did not awaken; unfortunately succumbing to the lung cancer right there. Martin says the staff had been aware of how serious Mr. Herbert’s condition was, and had advised him to seek medical aid prior to giving his statement, but were told rather bluntly by the old man that he would not wait another second to state his case. I can’t decide whether this lends more or less credibility to his tale.

[MAG010 Vampire Killer]

.

“Veepalach” might also be a mishearing of the Polish word “wypalać”, according to Martin, which means to cauterize or brand. Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he “speaks Latin,” then he might be talking nonsense again, but I’ve looked it up and it appears to check out.

[MAG012 First Aid]

.

I sent Martin to look into this ‘Angela’ character - not that I want him to get chopped up, of course, but someone had to. Apparently, he spent three days looking into every woman named Angela in Bexley over the age of 50. He could not find anyone that matches the admittedly vague description given here, though he informs me that he had some very pleasant chats about jigsaws. Useless ass.

[MAG014 Piecemeal]

.

Martin declined to help with this investigation as he’s “a bit claustrophobic”

[MAG015 Lost John’s Cave]

.

There simply aren’t enough details given in this statement to actually investigate, short of Martin confirming that Mr. Vittery did indeed live at the addresses he provided.

[MAG016 Arachnophobia]

.

Oh, he’s off sick this week. Stomach problems, I think.

Blessed relief if you ask me.

[...]

I asked Martin to try and hunt down Mr. Adekoya himself for a follow-up, but have been informed that he passed away in 2006. 

[MAG017 The Boneturner’s Tale]

.

MARTIN

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

ARCHIVIST

…

That is beside the point.

[MAG022 Colony]

.

Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at least have the decency to put some trousers on!

[MAG023 Schwartzwald]

.

Martin found one other thing while combing through police reports for the Hither Green area. About a month after this statement was given, on May 15th, 2015, police were called out to once again investigate the chapel.

[MAG025 Growing Dark]

.

I know, but it would have to have been Martin, wouldn’t it? I mean, anything goes wrong around here, it always seems to happen to him. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Why didn’t you report this?

[MAG026 A Distortion]

.

Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.”

[MAG027 A Sturdy Lock]

.

Tim and Martin had a bit more luck investigating Tom Haan, though only really enough to confirm that he seems to have completely vanished following his departure from Aver Meats on the 12th of July.

[MAG030 Killing Floor]

.

Martin’s research would seem to indicate the place employed a reasonable number of international staff they preferred to keep off the books

[...]

TIM

Ah well, that’s actually what he was asking, huh! Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it?

ARCHIVIST

No, he… Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk drawer, hold on.

[MAG036 Taken Ill]

[maxineswritingcenter]

Short Stack - Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

@nyotamalfoy : So, I was thinking, could you write a Stiles Stilinski x reader? Like the reader is short and the pack just loves to make fun of her (all in good sense) and could it include Derek too?

-----------

The problem with hanging out with werewolves wasn't that they were werewolves. It wasn't that that they could potentially lose control and kill you (although that was a concern on the full moon). No, the problem was that they were all giants. No one was under 5'10. And being someone who was considered a normal height, maybe shorter, (Y/N) was the butt end of everyone's’ jokes.

Before the whole werewolf thing happened, it was usually just a joke here and there from Scott and your boyfriend, Stiles. But Stiles knew better than to say a joke more than once.

But now there were a gaggle of freakishly tall individuals around her all the time and they loved to point it out too. They all had their own nicknames for her, even Derek. The only person who could even understand her situation was Lydia, who was a whopping five-three. But no one made fun of Lydia about her height, mostly because Lydia was un-make-fun-of-able. 

Lydia and (Y/N) were sitting on the bleachers, watching a Beacon Hills scrimmage. It was one of the last few games that Scott would be coaching since he was going to college full time. 

Next thing you know, Liam and Theo walked past them, playfully shoving each other. 

“Sup Mighty Mouse.” Liam smirked as they walked by. (Y/N) sighed loudly in frustration. Lydia glared after the two and huffed. 

“Why do you let them do that?” 

“Because I’m not intimidating like you?” Lydia opened her mouth to retort, but closed her mouth and thought a moment. 

“Okay.” She shook her head, “Yeah. But still? So what if you’re short? I accomplished a lot being short.” 

“Like what?” 

“Being popular and surviving this hell hole of a town.” She said as if it were obvious. (Y/N) nodded after a moment. Maybe it was obvious. Being human in this supernatural town meant you a little underwhelming. You feel alone in your little world. 

-

After the game was over, Lydia and (Y/N) were standing around, waiting for Scott and Stiles to get done with the team meeting. 

“Alright, see you at morning practice, guys!” Scott waved to the players and made their way to the two. 

“What’d ya think?” Stiles came around, wrapping an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders. 

“It was a great game.” She smiled.

“Sure you could see over the people in front of you?” Scott joked. Stiles chuckled, but dropped the smile when he saw the look on his girlfriend’s face. Lydia glared, smacking Scott on the shoulder. 

That was last straw. 

“That’s it. I’m done.” She shrugged Stiles arm off of her shoulders, making her way to her car and driving away. Was this dramatic? Absolutely! But everyone she knew was in the running for Miss Drama Queen Beacon Hills, the winner would be crowned by Peter Hale. 

(Y/N) was just so sick and tired of all of them making fun of her. Sure, it was all in good fun. But all the time? Enough was enough. 

The cliffs were a good place to go when you needed to think things over. Stiles had called a few times, voicemails apologizing with Lydia in the background telling him how dumb he was. (Y/N) just sent a text back saying that she just needed time for herself. But even that was too much to ask. 

(Y/N) sat on the edge, legs swinging. Footsteps made her heart jump, she turned, pepper spray in hand. 

“Back up fiend!” She shouted at the darkness. She heard a chuckle and the familiar figure of Derek Hale appeared in her sight. She relaxed, setting her pepper spray back in the spot besides her. 

“Fiend? What year are you from?” He looked down at her, “What are you doing out here by yourself?” 

“Being pissed. Would you like to join me?” She swept her hand out to offer him the spot in the grass beside her. 

“Being pissed is my specialty.” He sat down, staring out at the city below, he leaned back using his arms to keep himself up. Derek used to be the most intimidating person she knew, but after a while she saw that Derek was just like anyone else. But he had a real bad case of grumpy face. 

“What are you pissed about?” She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. 

Derek shrugged, “Why wouldn’t I be pissed? My uncle killed my sister, tried to kill me, etcetera bullshit that we’ve all been through for the past couple years.” He looked at her, “What are you pissed about?” 

“Well, now I would rather not say.” What she was pissed about didn’t compare to Derek. 

“C’mon, Short Stack, you can tell me.” 

She sighed, “It just that... I’m so sick and tired of being made fun of for my height. Every once in a while, sure, I can take a joke, but lately it has been constant. Just...” She looked at him, seeing that he was actively listening, “Never mind, it’s stupid to be mad about this.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Derek said, totally surprising (Y/N), “You want more respect from the pack. I understand that.”

(Y/n) blinked a few times, “Really?” 

“It’s only fair. You’ve done a lot, you earned your position in the pack, you deserve respect. I’ll talk to them about it.” 

She shook her head, “No, Derek, that’s-” 

Derek smiled, “I got it.” He stood up, helping (Y/N) to her feet. It was nice to see Derek smiling, especially after everything that had happened to him. 

“Besides, I’m grumpy face, aren’t I?” 

Her eyes widened, covering her open mouth with her hands, “Oh my god, who told you that?” 

“Lydia is loud.” 

-

Like usual, Stiles was at her house after having used the key he made to get in. He stared her down as she watched Xfiles reruns. He came around, standing in front of the screen just as they were about to reveal the aliens. 

“Is there a reason why you are interrupting Xfiles time?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “Since when are you and Sour Wolf friends?” 

“I thought we were all friends.” (Y/N) moved on the couch to get a better view of the TV. Stiles sighed and fell down on the couch besides her.

“We are. But Derek basically called us together and told everyone to stop doing the short jokes all the time.” He titled his head to the side, “Then Theo asked if he was your guard dog now and lets just say he’s gonna need the night to heal the bones he broke.” A grin pulled at her lips at the thought of scary Derek Hale getting her the respect she deserved, even fighting the pack to get it. 

“What’s the problem?” She asked. 

“I guess... The problem is that you should have come to me first. I’m your boyfriend and that should be my thing. To defend you.” She guessed Xfiles had to wait. She turned to Stiles to fully look at him. He looked upset, a little pout on his face. 

“It’s hard to talk to you about it when you laughed at it today. I got angry with you. Derek just happened to be there and we talked.” She rested her head on his shoulder, “I know you would defend me with your whole heart. Derek’s just faster.” He mocked offense, his mouth agape. 

“Faster? You better be fast then, missy!” His fingers found their way to her sides, tickling at her ribs. She yelped and scrambling up, running through the house with Stiles close behind. Laughter filling the empty home as the TV played in the background. Maybe being around tall people all the time wasn’t so bad. Sometimes they defended your honor and sometimes they were the love of your life. Sometimes the tall boy you met freshman year, the one who tripped over his own feet, would be the boy you spent the rest of your life with. Through thick and thin. Through life and death. And that was worth it, right? 

------

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Thank you for reading!

[abraxos-the-phantom]

Scum Disciple Deleted

-scenes. Here you go @vodkassassin. Unformatted and mostly unedited save for some awkward phrasing I fixed as I skimmed through it. I have a habit of merely taking out scenes rather than straight deleting them when I don't think they work out so if you see it on the fic shhh I probably just found a better place for it, but for the most part I think these are unused

TLJ + MF; Flashback/Illusion

[Log: File:Save_??-???.?.????.log]

“You know, for a man so keen on maintaining the preference of a dignified cultivator, you are fairly quick to disband such things as you see fit,” Tianlang-jun mused.

Ming Fan threw a dirty look to the former Overlord of the Demonic Realm over his bowl of beef stir fry lily bulbs. It was a specialty in this region, boasting a sweet lily bulb due to the length of time the farmers around the area spent cultivating the plant. In other words, it was delicious and a welcome change to the guilt trip galore that was eating Lou Binghe’s cooking.

Oh to eat that delicious snow congee without feeling the compulsion to throw it all back up-

Well, no use dwelling on such things.

“Most of anything could be considered vulgar when in close proximity to you,” Ming Fan quipped, taking a generous helping of the stir-fry between his chopsticks. “If you had as much sensibility as you had sensuality, I guarantee that people would be more fond of you. Unfortunately, it is too late for me.”

“Hoh? Is that so?” Tianlang-jun’s lips curled in a smirk in spite of the fact that Ming Fan had no interest looking his way, regardless of the other demon happened to do. Some odd five or so years have taught Ming Fan that there were times when the best move for dealing with the other was simply ignoring him.

Ming Fan maintained his bland tone as he briefly paused to speak, “Yes.”

Tianlang-jun shook his head, “Honestly. Are all disciples of Cang Qiong like you, or are you just the special one.”

Said disciple only gave Tianlang-jun a significant dirty look, “You’d have to actually behave yourself to get to know another disciple of Cang Qiong.”

“Eh,” the Heavenly Demon leaned back against his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. “Too boring.”

Ming Fan made a noncommitting sound as he finally ate the last of his order, letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“Ming Fan, a question if you are so gracious enough to grant me such a thing.”

Ming Fan only raised a brow, “You may ask, whether I answer is not on the table.”

“Why?” Tianlang-jun paused as he attempted to think about his question. “Why do you maintain this relationship of ours? It’s not as if you’re on any obligation to maintain basic relations for a political reason, and you hardly ask me anything so you aren’t after my wisdom. With Lou Binghe going in and out Cang Qiong Sect, it’s not as if I can threaten your Sect any more than I could try and fight with my son.”

Ming Fan crossed his arms, humming for a moment tilting his head just enough to convey thoughtfulness he turned to look the demon lord in the eye, “If you were to be confronted with a former enemy of a war without meaning, what would you do?”

Tianlang-jun hummed, “I wouldn’t care.”

“Exactly,” Ming Fan pointed out. “Now what would you do if you discovered you were on the wrong side of that war?”

“…I still wouldn’t care.”

“Would you?” Ming Fan hummed, “Well, that’s your choice.”

“So is that all? You pity me?”

“Not quite,” Ming Fan shrugged, idly arranging the finish plate on the table. “More like my recompense of sorts.”

Tianlang-jun’s expression was unreadable as he stared, quietly adding, “You realize that I’ve killed hundreds of cultivators like you. Your age, younger- older. It didn’t matter, they were obstacles in my path and I removed them.”

“Of that I do not doubt, but these days- the line between righteous and mad is thin,” Ming Fan snorted. “I stand at the meager in-between myself. But what else can I do? I am but a mere mortal, attempting to right his wrongs.”

Ming Fan took a final sip at his tea, “Sometimes, that is all one can do without going well and truly mad.”

Tianlang-jun chuckled, “I suppose that’s true.”

The hours seemed endless after that, a moment in time felt like hundreds upon billions as the two simply- existed.

“So,” Tianlang-jun said after an eternity’s moment. “What are you doing here Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan blinked, “Is this not one amongst our many meetings?”

The world seem to blur around him like ink amongst a pool of water. Fading into implied images as the sky and trees distorted. The sounds of the earth quieted to a hushed whisper. Ming Fan’s eyes casted around in confusion as the lively village dulled into a dead silence.

“It isn’t,” Tianlang-jun leaned back, smirking. “You’ve spent so long with me that I am now here with you- in limbo. I’m flattered Fan-er.”

Ming Fan narrowed his eyes, scowling, before looking away, “Definitely. Tianlang-jun never called me that to my face.”

Ming Fan twisted away from the…demon for some time to think.

TLJ + MF - Actual Flashback

“You look like you went a round and three more with a golem,” Tianlang-jun tsked at him.

“Are you going to lecture me about coming out while I look like I lost against said golem or are you going to sit your ass down and have some tea like we agreed?” Ming Fan snapped, wincing as he sat.

Tianlang-jun whistled wolfishly. “Why, I never took that War God to be the kinky type.”

“Don’t be so obscene,” Ming Fan rolled his eyes. “He landed me flat on my ass almost a dozen times. Of course sitting down would be a pain.”

“You know there’s this flower that-“

“No.”

“But I hurt just looking at you,” Tianlang-jun whined like a particularly annoying brat. “One tiny little adventure to look for a flower that heals bruises instantly, it’s a Lotus of a blue hue, I hear those people from the far West have been using it for some time.”

“And then Liu Qingge will have me spar against him, again, and this hellish circle will repeat itself. I am only saved by the fact that my cultivation is not as advanced as one of a Peak Lords, otherwise I would be healed by the end of the week and my pain begins anew,” Ming Fan shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but no.”

“Aww, well since you’re being so polite about it…” Tianlang-jun sighed and sipped from the tea. “Mn- this is good. Where did you get it?”

“Shang-shishu taught me how to prepare lemon tea before the fruits go out of season, apparently there is a sweetened-cold version of this as well, but he has yet to refine the technicalities of the ingredients. I worry for him, he always seems so busy.”

“He looks like a rodent who accidentally ate a pepper, though I suppose in this case it would be a block of ice what with Mobei-jun being his lover and all.”

“I did wonder how that happened, and worried a brief time. An Ding Peak’s disciples had said that their master would occasionally come home bruised and barely able to walk, they were rearing to go to war with the Northern Demons far before everything else happened.” Ming Fan sighed, “Well, it isn’t any of my business. I’m sure they’re dealing with the situation in their own way.”

“True that, those An Ding Peak children…physically they are weak, but it is always the weaker ones that surprise you the most. Especially when angry,” Tianlang-jun smiled as he mused. “Afterall, hornets don’t seem like much at first glance. That Mobei-jun has his work cut out for him, ah, speaking of. What of those two? Surely the boy is tip-toeing these days.”

“He tends to keep to the bamboo house, and we tend to stay far away from the bamboo house, especially at night.” Ming Fan raised his hand to drink. “That is all I will say of the matter.”

Ming Fan sighed, rubbing a hand against his eyes, “I am getting far too old for this.”

“Oh please, you’re not even a century old.”

“Hm, and yet somehow I am still significantly more mature than you. Have you reached the regression stage of life Tianlang-jun? I must say, I’m rather peeved that it’s a mental deterioration rather than a physical one for you demons.”

“Hoh?” Tianlang-jun leaned forward, smirking. “Wish to test how youthful I can be Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan raised a hand idly pointing at the silks of Tianlang-jun’s clothes, startling the heavenly demon as he wondered just what the other had found on his clothes.

Then Ming Fan flicked up, hitting the former Demon Lord up the lip and under the nose, causing Tianlang-jun to recoil, sputtering from the unjust attack. The audacity.

“I’m sure you’d at least warm the bed,” He deadpanned, sipping at his tea without a care as Tianlang-jun sputtered indignantly.

NMJ/MF - Original Re-meeting for ch 52; added here for my convenience (cus i don't wanna make another post)

“Gather everyone who can fight!” One voice called. “Sect Leader Nie is being surrounded by a pack of hell hounds! They need help.”

Ming Fan was out and running before anyone could even blink- with only Liu Qingge and Tianlang-jun holding enough time to react by following him.

-

“Shit-“ Mingjue cursed, swinging around Bàxià to hurl one attacking hound over to the side. “Meng Yao- you alright?!”

“Could use-” Meng Yao grimaced as he had to back off to avoid the snapping jaws of another hound. “Some help.”

“Reinforcements should be on the way!” Mei Lin cursed venomously under her breath. “Just where the hell did all these damned dogs come from?!”

“We’re being overrun!” Lang Fengyi yelped as he narrowly avoided claws.

“Fuck-“ Mingjue gathered his energy, willing it to fill him once more. “Get ready to run! I should be able to distract them long enough to-“

“Don’t worry about that.”

The disciples of Nie turned to find a man arrogantly walking through the field, the hounds yipping in fear and running from him, as well as another man clad in white and silver who eyed the hounds back.

Tianlang-jun stood before the disciples of Qinghe Nie with a bright smile, “Relax now, everything will be fine.”

Liu Qingge huffed, drawing his sword, “Says you. We have to make sure he’s not overworking himself remember?”

There was a distant rumbling- an ominous presence that washed over them to the point where all the hounds began to shudder and shake in fear as they too yipped around fearfully.

Descend with great speed. Swift and merciless. Run my enemies. Leave none left alive. May death greet you well.

Formation formed.

Ming Fan dropped his sword with militaristic precision, tilting all the swords generated by his power towards the ground in varying angles.

Heavenly Wrath Formation.

Tianlang-jun looked up in the surprise, “Don’t tell me that’s-“

“It is,” Liu Qingge scowled.

“Who-“ Nie Mingjue began- before all hell broke loose.

Liu Qingge’s expression was thunderous as he swept past rows of demonic hounds, tilting on hand and waiting-

Another man dropped from the sky not a second later, catching Liu Qingge’s robes and righting him before swinging his legs on the man’s waist to get around and jab another hound in the back- Tianlang-jun was swift to join the fray, allowing the shorter cultivator to move around him to get at all the lucky hounds who managed to move away from Ming Fan’s deadly aim fast enough.

While Tianlang-jun added to the deadly partnership with his own flare, it was the pair of Ming Fan and Liu Qingge that showed the obvious years of partnership between them- for the two had years of spars and night hunts to guide their blades where they need be.

Heads flew, limbs joining them as the immortals of Cang Qiong Sect and Tianlang-jun of the Heavenly Demon Line slaughtered the feared and the rowdy- leaving those of Qinghe Nie in awe.

“..Wei…” Meng Yao said, knees beginning to grow weak. “Wei Fan?!”

The man abruptly froze, glancing towards their direction before seeming to move on instinct- the War God sensing the sudden change and using his arm to propel him outward, allowing the man to fly across the air and land his sword true through the skull of the hell hound that was just about to take a chunk from Nie Mingjue’s side.

Ming Fan, not upset as he was, barked at them venomously, “Just what do you think you’re doing?! Fucking move! You’re in a battle field! Fight damn you! Are you not of Qinghe Nie?!”

“Teacher Wei!” Mei Lin cried- openly actually, crying.

“Oh for the love of-“ Ming Fan cursed. “I’ll take your crying and yelling and cursing later, lift your sabres and fight!”

“Xiao-Fan!”

Ming Fan turned, grunting as he launched his sword in the Heavenly Demon’s direction and skewering the hound. “What?!”

“Lower your blood pressure!”

Ming Fan felt his blood pressure rise out of sheer spite. “Fuck you!”

“A-Fan,” Liu Qingge growled. “You just performed one of the most powerful formations while silent. Calm down.”

“I can’t!” Ming Fan caught himself with a scowl. “But I’m not upset!”

“For the love of-“ Liu Qingge turned to Tianlang-jun. “Can you handle the rest?”

“Yeah I got it,” Tianlang-jun batted away a hound with his bare fist. “Just take care of our pissed off little horse first.”

Liu Qingge wasted no time, grabbing the now fuming Ming Fan, his nose beginning to trickle with a line of blood and generally causing the already shocked disciples of Qinghe Nie to panic.

“Hey,” Liu Qingge’s voice was soft as it was firm. “Calm down. Calm. That’s not a request.”

“I’m trying,” Ming Fan hissed. “You try doing this in the middle of battle.”

“Alright back up plan,” Liu Qingge turned to the still shocked Nie Mingjue. “You. Make yourself useful. He needs a distraction.”

“Wha-“

Liu Qingge shoved Ming Fan into Nie Mingjue, the taller man abruptly catching the man by the waist to steady him before something else caused him to loose balance.

Forgot one: Deleted Extra feat. Yang Yixuan + MF; written with it's og formatting since notes preserved my italics somehow

Cold wind swept past the ravine.

Shaking trees and rustling branches provided the background noise for the twittering creatures who lived in the back mountains. Within this quiet land was a surrounding of high elevation mountains spanning all around the mountain side.

There, Ming Fan sat quietly. Watching the creatures bellow- there were no humans for miles save for those few people within the Ancient Sect, and they were hardly just human anymore.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get off your ass.”

Ming Fan stiffened.

Yang Yixuan’s arms were cross across his breast, idly looking down from the view of Qing JIng Peak.

The landscape had changed much since Ming Fan had last come here, it was greener. With the trees far taller than when Ming Fan had last seen them, the older trees cut down by the ravages of war and time- but new ones taking their place. The silence too, was new. With no disciples Cang Qiong Mountain was a far quieter place than it had been during the height of its Sect Years. Some ascended, some peacefully settling into their next life, and some sticking around. Going to and fro the place carrying out errands and enacting a firm hand where the average Cultivator could not handle. The war had put a damper on such things, what with their stance of neutrality, bu it was no less somewhat of a sobering surprise that those of Cang Qiong Mountain had seen what was happening and judged it would be better to remain quiet.

He knew why of course, it was more practical in the long run for a mythical Sect, they were not here to force the future into their own hands- merely to counter the monsters of the yester years. Still. He wondered.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically here it,” the former head disciple of Bai Zhan peak, the former Peak Lord himself, continued with a raised brow. “You’re normally quick to empty your mind and dump it onto others.”

Ming Fan scoffed softly, “Normal is a poor basis to use to pass judgement at the moment, even a Bai Zhan Peak buffoon like you should realize such.”

“…”

Ming Fan pursed his lip, anger simmering.

Settle.

Settle.

Settle.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He said softly, allowing his fist to slack from their death-like grip.

“You just lost your brohter,” Yang Yixuan said bluntly. “You were a raving asshole when Liu-shifu dragged you here. Pretty much spat at Luo Binghe’s feet and insulted just about everyone.”

Ming Fan restrained the urge to flinch at every word.

“I’d be more than a little troubled if you didn’t act like that after losing your brother.” Yang Yixuan continued with a shake of his head. “It’s good to know that our illustrous Ming Fan is still a human.”

“Have I not proven that time and time again?”

“Dunno,” Ming Fan turned his head, the Bai Zhan Peak’s former sole disciple’s voice turning uncharacteristically soft. “You were doing a pretty good impression of acting like an immortal before.”

[grovyrosegirl]

Confrontation: MCSM Fic

Author’s Note: I’ve been replaying MCSM seasons 1 and 2 recently because I got nostalgic for those blocky dorks. Then I went through some old WIPs in my docs and found this Lukas and Aiden fic from a few years ago. I really liked it, so I spruced it up a bit and finished it for old times’ sake. Enjoy!

---

“Bring him in.”

The guards wasted no time leading Lukas into the small cobblestone room. Despite confiscating everything in his inventory upon arrival, including his weapons, they kept a tight, secure grip on both of his arms. It was only when his former friend, who leaned against the wall with the most satisfied smirk on his face, gave them a small handwave that the guards released Lukas and stepped back, still blocking the only exit to the room.

“Leave us,” Aiden then ordered the two guards, much to Lukas’ surprise.

Even with the wary looks he saw on their faces, the guards obeyed and left the room, shutting the iron door behind them. Lukas faced forward once again, now noticing the oak wood table resting in the center of the room, two identical chairs stood on opposite sides of the table’s surface.

“Take a seat, Lukas,” Aiden made his way over and sat down in the chair facing the door, casually resting his arms behind his head. “Let’s chat.”

Lukas didn’t speak, eyeing the other carefully. Despite everything that had occurred in the past year, knowing what Aiden was capable of, and how low he’d sunk already, seeing that look--that smile--on his face felt unsettling to him. Lukas recalled their theater days that felt like centuries ago, the days before the Witherstorm, before they even thought to call themselves the Ocelots. Aiden was never much of an actor, his specialty had always been the set production.

But clearly, Lukas thought to himself as he felt his eyes lower into a glare, Aiden was enjoying playing the villain.

Slowly, he made his way over to the other chair, sitting down and folding his arms.

“So, is this the part where you try to get me to talk?” Lukas curtly began before Aiden could open his mouth again. “Because you’re wasting your time. Even if I did know where Jesse was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Everything had happened so fast. The guards raced towards them all, closing in fast when they were revealed as the bridge-builders, an innocent act back home, but a crime on the floating island. His own capture occurred in a matter of seconds, he didn’t even see the guard coming until the very last moment. One minute he was watching Jesse sprint away into the alley, the next he was on the ground, pinned down by the guard. But those few seconds let Jesse and Petra escape, and for that, he took some relief in. By the time Lukas and Ivor were escorted to the throne room, the Founder was already getting the report from another guard that they’d lost sight of the “remaining criminals” as they put it.

He felt relieved knowing that his two friends hadn’t been captured yet. It meant there was a sliver of hope of getting out of this place.

Aiden let out an exaggerated sigh and sat up straight in the chair, leaning forward slightly and placing his arms crossed on the table’s surface, “Man, Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. Aren’t you sick of talking about her yet? Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and get an answer out of you. Like you said, it would be a waste of time. Besides, you already got plenty of that from the Founder.” He snickered for a moment before continuing, “No. This is the part where I throw you a bone.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Lukas said.

“It means I’m giving you a chance here, buddy,” Aiden said, “to join the winning team again.”

Lukas blinked, “What?”

“You heard me.”

He eyed Aiden suspiciously before saying, “You can’t be serious.”

“No games here, friend. Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ve decided to give you a second chance,” Aiden stood from his seat and began to walk around the table to stand next to Lukas. “C’mon, Lukas! It’ll be like the old days. Don’t you remember? We were the top dogs for years, and now, we can finally be on top again. But this time, it’ll be more than just winning some lame building contest.”

Aiden let out a deep chuckle, he wrapped one arm around Lukas’ shoulders and leaned in closer, a grin on his face.

“Here in this world, buddy? We can be kings.”

Lukas roughly shoved against Aiden’s chest, making the other man stumble back a few steps.

“I knew it,” Lukas said through his heated glare, “you’re planning to betray the Founder, aren’t you? It’s not enough that you want to steal the Eversource from her, you want her throne too.”

Aiden shot his own blazing glare back at Lukas, before regaining his composure and saying with that same grin, “Congrats Captain Obvious, you want a cookie?”

“Eat a slimeball, Aiden,” Lukas fired back, “do you honestly think you’ll get away with this?”

“I already am. But right now? That’s nothing you need to worry about,” He once again leaned back against the cobblestone walls. “The real question you should be asking is whether or not you’ll get to be a part of the spoils. It’s easy, Lukas. All you have to do is say yes and follow my lead. After that? Well, it’ll take a while, but I’m sure you can make up for abandoning your real team.”

At those words, Lukas’ boiling thoughts began to steam. He smashed his hands against the table’s surface and pushed himself up from the chair.

“Excuse me?!” He exclaimed. “You must’ve really lost me there, because last time I checked, it was you who abandoned me!”

At that reaction, Aiden almost seemed to shrink against the wall. However, he swiftly recovered his bravado and moved towards Lukas with gripped fists.

“We left because all you could think about was Jesse and her loser friends! It was always, ‘I’ve got to help Jesse build today!’ or ‘I’m going to visit Jesse!’” He clasped his hands together, held them close to his cheek as if he were hopelessly in love, and swung them back and forth while speaking in a mocking manner, “‘She’s my new best friend! We make cookies together! She’s sooo nice, and she’s sooo cool!’ You followed her around like a lovesick puppy. It makes me want to hurl!”

“I don’t get it all. Why?” Lukas shook his head in frustration. “Why do you hate her so much? Why have you always hated her so much? She never did anything to you! You always just got a kick out of torturing her and her friends, didn’t you? And when you couldn’t pick on her anymore, you start pushing Maya and Gill around. Anything to make yourself feel tall, is that it?!”

“Not like you ever tried to stop me,” he scoffed.

“Because back then, I thought it was all some dumb rivalry. But I was wrong. And I still kick myself everyday for not putting a stop to it. Maybe if I had,” Lukas paused, then let out a sigh that was flooded with a regretful tone, “maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Aiden scowled, “She’s a loser. And all she does is drag people down to her loser level. She did it with Petra, and she did it with you.”

“She’s a hero. And she’s my friend!”

“I was your friend!” Aiden snarled.

“Yeah, you were. Until you decided that your stupid, fragile ego mattered more than years worth of friendship!”

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have chosen Jesse over me!”

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have made me choose!”

At the end of his patience, Aiden lunged forward with an angry screech. He grabbed the collar of Lukas’ jacket and yanked the boy forward, dangling him slightly off the ground.

“I can do it, you know,” Aiden said through gritted teeth. His voice was low, but ever-so menacing, “I can throw you off this island right now. No one would blame me if I told them you attacked me. The people here believe whatever I tell them. You fall into the void forever, and all you’ll be remembered as is some villain who tried to attack this island’s savior.”

Lukas, amidst his struggle against Aiden’s grip, looked him directly in the eyes and said in his own low, fearsome voice, “I dare you.”

Aiden went still. All of the bravado, the threats, and the glares were drained from his face. His eyes went wide with disbelief, and in that moment, Lukas saw it. Fear. Hesitation. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d taken a step too far. Aiden opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. With only a sentence, Lukas was allowed to see the tiniest glimpse of the person he used to trust most in the world.

He saw the scared, insecure kid he’d met all those years ago.

Aiden’s grip on Lukas became loose, allowing the latter to easily push him away.

“That’s what I thought,” Lukas broke the silence with a sigh. He buried his hands into his jacket pockets, looking down to the floor, “You’re all talk, Aiden. Always have been.”

The anger returned as quickly as it had fled. But it wasn’t explosive. It was simmering. Aiden narrowed his eyes back into a glare, his fists, clenched so tight it looked painful, were trembling.

Another moment of silence passed before Aiden finally looked away from Lukas and exclaimed, “Guards!”

The same guards who’d brought Lukas here returned swiftly, entering the room and grabbing ahold of both of his arms once more. Lukas did little to resist their hold, only keeping a hard stare on Aiden.

“Get him out of my sight,” Aiden said in a low growl. “He’s useless.”

The guards obeyed and led Lukas out of the room. With a slam of the iron door, Aiden was left alone.

[365days365movies]

March 3, 2021: Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) (Part One)

I’ve got a confession: I haven’t seen much Miyazaki.

I’ve seen Howl’s Moving Castle (the fucking scarecrow is the film’s best character, DO NOT FUCKING AT ME), Princess Mononoke (boar Keith David, people, that is my SHIT), My Neighbor Totoro (honestly, that whole movie is great, I can’t choose a favorite-Totoro. It’s Totoro, c’mon), bits and pieces of Ponyo (my favorite character is ham) and...that’s it.

I know.

I know.

I KNOW, OK?

Look, I promise, I’ll be getting around to them, I promise. Hell, I’ll be doing one of these tomorrow. But today...today, I’ve got another prerogative. And I can sum it up in one word.

Witches.

This was one of my Mom’s favorite shows as a kid, and I grew up watching it, too. So, I’ve always had a soft spot for witches. I also loved Sabrina as a kid (and the new series ain’t bad, either, although I need to watch more of it). And before anybody asks, I still have to watch Little Witch Academia. And up until now, my favorite animated witch has been Witch Hazel from Looney Tunes.

But let’s try to change that, huh? I know a lot of people who love this movie, and it’s been on my list for a while, so let’s get into Kiki’s Delivery Service, yeah? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

It’s a gorgeous day, in a typical Miyazaki landscape. As the radio reports that that night will be nice and clear, a young witch named Kiki (Kirsten Dunst) runs home excitedly to her mother, Okino (Kath Soucie), readying herself to go on a journey.

See, after a witch turns 13, it’s tradition for them to go on a year-long journey on their own. Like Pokémon, but with magic shit. I can dig it. While her parents are a touch reluctant, they allow her to go on the journey with her cat, Jiji (Phil Hartman).

After this very sweet opening, she quite literally takes off on her broomstick with Jiji, heading south towards the ocean. And I’m gonna say right now that this is absolutely adorable, and I’m digging it hardcore, real talk. Maybe this is my mom’s love of Bewitched leaking through to me, but this is already a lovely movie.

Kiki turns on her radio, and flies off over the opening credits. On the way, she meets another witch at the end of her training year, and she’s kind of a snob. The encounter leads Kiki to wonder what her specialty is, magic-wise, before a rainstorm hits them and forces them aground.

That ground, however, happens to be a train car, which takes off in the middle of the night. When she wakes up, the hay she’s sleeping in is being eaten by a group of cows. She gets out with Jiji to see a small hilly port-city, called Koriko. As she and Jiji wonder if there are any witches there, they fly over the bustling city.

I want to go here. I mean, fuck me, man, I wanna go here. It reminds me of the islands, but is also nothing like the islands. I dunno, it just looks lovely. Anyway, there are no witches here, according to a an in a clock tower, cementing Kiki’s decision to stay here. And while the rest of the city people marvel at her flying, she’s clearly not the best at flying, as she nearly causes a massive accident.

The awkward young Kiki tries to talk to some of the frazzled citizens, who quickly leave her be, only for an angry cop to accost her for nearly causing an accident. As he’s about to right her a ticket and contact her parents, he’s suddenly distracted by someone yelling about a thief. As he runs away, he tells her to stay there. She does not stay there. Nice.

The screams of “”thief” came from a young man named Tombo (Matthew Lawrence), who distracted the cop to help Kiki get away. But Kiki’s clearly very shaken by the whole affair, and brushes off the eager and friendly Tombo, flying away as he asks how she’s able to fly. Seems like a nice kid, though.

Still, an upset Kiki isn’t sure where she’ll sleep tonight, and the two consider moving to another town. However, those plans are interrupted by Osono (Tress MacNeille), a pregnant woman and bakery owner. One of her customers left behind her baby’s pacifier, and she is about to bring it back to her. Kiki volunteers to do so in her stead, which Osono greatly appreciates.

After the delivery takes place, she returns to Osono with a message from the mother, noting that her “new delivery girl” is “quite special”. And based on the title of the film, I’m pretty sure I know where this is headed. As Kiki’s about to leave, Osono instead invites her to the back, where the two have hot chocolate.

Osono immediatly takes a like to Kiki, and upon learning that Kiki and Jiji have no place to stay, offers her the attic to stay in. She accepts, and the witch and cat move into the dusty attic. Jiji’s not the biggest fan of the place still, but Kiki decides to stay, hoping to find other nice accepting people like Osono.

The next day, Kiki decides on what to do: she’ll be a delivery witch, bringing goods from place to place throughout town, working for Osono in the process. Osono agrees with this, and the movie’s setting is established. However, Kiki still has some learning to do about city life, from cars to kids.

On the way through town, Kiki laments her “ugly” dress, which honestly isn’t ugly, it’s just plain. Common confluence, those terms. Tombo doesn’t help, as he drives by in a car with his friends, and comments that witches always wear dark dresses. Smooth move, Tombo.

Once she gets back to Osono’s, she finds a delivery job waiting for her. A woman would like a toy cat delivered to her nephew, and Kiki immediately agrees. She flies there, alongside a group of...Canada geese. Huh. Where exactly is this place?

Doesn’t atter, because that wind drove the RIGHT THE FUCK BACK to Canada, and knocks Kiki off her course. She crashes into the forest down below, through the trees and into a nest belonging to what looks like a magpie or rook species. This angers the birds, and causes Kiki to take off in a hurry.

Ther’s a problem, though: Kiki’s lost the doll. Fuck. She tries to go back, but the magpie brought back friends to attack the duo. And lemme tell ya: the eyes don’t work.

Lucky for Kiki, Jiji looks exactly like the doll. And so, they come up with a plan: Jiji will pose as the doll until Kiki can find it in the forest. She delivers “the doll” to the kid, who is...Bobby Hill. Seriously, his name is Ket, but his voice actor is Pamela Segall, who voices Bobby Hill. He takes Jiji, pretending to be a toy, and Jiji...Jiji does a goddamn amazing job pretending to be a toy, lemme tell you.

Kiki finds the toy cat in the shack of an artist, Ursula (Janeane Garofalo), but it’s broken. Ursula agrees to fix it, while Kiki cleans her place in exchange. Ursula also wants to paint Kiki at some point, which makes Kiki quite happy. She returns the toy cat to the mansion she delivered to. Jeff the dog is a fuckin’ GREAT boy, and brings Jiji outside, where he exchanges it with the toy cat, with nobody being the wiser. Good boy, Jeff. Good boy.

Kiki goes home after the tough day, and night becomes day. A bored Kiki is less than pleased when Tombo shows up, offering an invitation to a party with his aviation club. He gives her the invitation as a man comes in with a massive package to deliver, which begins a long day of deliveries.

That is punctuated with a visit to two old women, Barsa (Edie McClurg) and Madame (Debbie Reynolds). As Madame presents the problem, making a herring and pumpkin pot pie for delivery (HURK, oh God, that sounds disHURK), Barsa...

Well, hello there, secret best character of the film, how are you doing today?

That’s so good, that I’m literally stopping on that image. See you in Part 2!

[damnnjoon]

100 reasons to love Jeno

he’s allergic to cats but his family has 3 (bongsik, seol, lal) and he loves them dearly

he’s obsessed with cars like the little nerd he is 

hates math dearly 

he did enjoy both history and the sciences, though

even then, his favorite subject was phys ed, as expected

he can lie face down flat on the ground and raise himself up with bending his arms that is INSANE

can also get up onto just one foot without touching the ground

he cleans meticulously when he’s drunk

he also tries to get the other members to sleep early or sleep when they don’t want to,,, he essentially becomes dream parental figure no. 1

jenshow!!!! mc of the year!!!! king of mc-ing!!!!!!!

he’s grown up well throughout the years (from smrookies to chewing gum to now (boom)) but his smile has stayed exactly the same since when he was that kid from that commercial

speaking of: the milk commercial he was in

his and doyoung’s couple costume for 2018 halloween it was just so Valid

also him and renjun couples smurf costume it really went down in history i feel

i legally can’t go further without mentioning that one JSMR ep where he had the bathbombs and he saw the train bathbomb and went “choo choo!” that was so Good 

he named his airpods “Jeno’s showerhead” boy WHAT

his trademark confusion noise (”huH?”)

the mole near his right eye…

...and the one on his left cheek 

the fact that he’s awkward at aegyo in front of cameras but, according to jaemin, he has the most aegyo out of any of the dream members

he slaps his toner on so hard that it wakes renjun up every morning 

can and will eat most things with mayo (ex. celery)

all of his contact names for the dreamies are puns based off of their names 

current official hardest puncher of the dreamies 

jaemin got champagne for his birthday and jeno finessed it within like… a minute

the sound he makes when he’s trying to hold his laughter in is EXQUISITE

that’s another thing: he laughs soooo easily it’s so good

his dancing is so mf powerful i feel like not enough people appreciate how talented jeno is at dancing

exact same height, shoe size, and joining day as jaemin, his ‘destined best friend’

lets his members play games in his room into the morning even though he has work at the show

calls himself “no jam” (not funny) even though he’s a whole circus

his automatic wince that he holds for a few seconds when anything is too loud during JSMR

high pitched noise of annoyance

exceedingly gentle and has a self-proclaimed weakness for cute things

cries when he’s angry 

has gotten more and more confident as the eras pass by i am LIVING for it

says that he hopes to have another comeback with the original dream members someday (after they’ve all graduated… because SM is a Fuck and won’t make ot7 dream a fixed unit)

plays the guitar

composes songs! he’s so talented and musically inclined i am so proud of him

him, hyuck, jaemin, and jisung were forced to drop out of school to pursue being idols BUT before that he majored/focused in practical dance at SOPA (where his seatmate was jaemin!)

known for being bad at taking selfies (even though anything and everything with him is iconic, immediately,)

when filming for “go” hyuck fake kissed him and jeno started chasing him and that actually made it into the mv which is so funny

can eat half an apple in 2-3 bites

tied in arm wrestling with jaemin, who’s his lifting partner 

has never gotten blackout drunk even though renhyuck allegedly have 

really likes playing mobile games!! 

likes puppies and old dogs just the same he’s so good with animals

he can play the violin!

he’s the baby of his family and that really shows sometimes

his handwriting is very aesthetically pleasing in both english and korean

he still has “the tastebuds of a child” and eats like garbage but works out super hard to maintain his body (i hope he’s being healthy!!!!)

his assigned character trait (ex. renjun’s is “pureness/innocence” because SM can’t their artists seem more than 1 dimensional, apparently) is “boring” and he just runs with it and it gets funnier and funnier whenever he or the others call him boring because they all know he’s a whole clown

listens to music loudly 

his rapping improves with every song he’s really finding his flow!! it’s especially obvious in the we boom album in 119 and stronger imo

has a terrible sense of direction

he’s been wearing a lot of sleeveless tees onstage and offstage recently and you can tell he’s been working out which is rad because he’s mentioned how much he enjoys exercising so it’s good that he’s been doing what he loves!!

had a cameo on the drama a-teen... king of being an all around performer!!

resembles a samoyed (self-proclaimed) because of his eye-smile

loves cherry blossoms

he’s watched a lot of disney films but his favorite is the original Lion King

resembles (and loves!) donghae of suju

constantly compliments his members and has a tendency to compliment them even right after he clowns them

loves dark chocolate and can eat a lot of it

he really likes the sound of pencils against paper

his duality is insane he’ll go ham onstage and then be quieter and all smiles backstage like... true prince

his facial expressions are PEAK he is so expressive especially when he squawks at stuff

he genuinely liked studying (more or less) when he was a student and would like to go to university

has always wanted to and still wants to major in architecture!

that time he lit a candle and then accidentally blew it out directly after

when he shhhhed a lemon on JSMR

would love to go to Europe someday

his specialty is acting and I really hope to see actor!jeno some time in the future if he’s up for it

the way he says “oh my gosh!”

his soft vibrato when he sings where you can tell he’s not quite sure of his vocal capability (even though he should be because he’s iconic) but he still likes to sing

i know i’ve mentioned it but his dancing is so smooth and stylistic and powerful and tbh i feel it in my chest

boom shooting when he neglected to remind jaemin that he had his phone and pretended to take jaemin’s calls

that time renjun said live that jeno games til 4 am and jeno was like “don’t say that!!my mom might be watching”

boy can EAT

says he hates skinship but seems to enjoy initiating it

wears his watch everywhere because he’s the king of fashionable functionality

this (shoutout @iriiidescence )

i hate to focus on his physical attributes because I feel like he gets boxed in as just “pretty” way too often, but, with that being said, his hands are gorgeous and you can tell how much he respects the world around him by how gently and daintily he holds things

read and enjoyed Jonathan Livingston Seagull

is incredibly artistic but never talks about it

his eyes and gaze are visibly and obviously different on and off stage

he gets so flustered talking about his own duality it is the cutest thing

early days esp during mfal his smile was like :3 and it isn’t as pronounced nowadays but sometimes it’s still like that and that is very good

when dream got reflectors for their selfmade movie shoot thing (was it for the boy videos or something similar? I can’t remember) and he put it behind mark and was like “halo!” and hyuck almost beat his ass then and there

jaemin said “we’ve known each other for 7 years” and jeno was like “let’s stop meeting”

that nct life moment when him and jisung were “sparring” and jeno won but when he went to shake jisung’s hand he straight up pulled jisung’s mitten off but kept on shaking the empty mitten anyways to save face

the smrookies age vid where jaemin asks “am i cute?” in Thai and jeno straight up says “no”

ran DIRECTLY into a green screen during go mv filming and had the misfortune of it getting caught on camera

when jaemin said “i love you” and jeno (he was over the phone) panicked and stuttered out “no thanks”

when he sticks his tongue out in pics he is the CUTEST mofo

when he centered in black on black

when he was dressed up all hardcore in all black with a fake gun and still managed to look soft because of how his eyes shone with all the stars in the night sky

he always looks at his members like they each hung the moon

is always honest (even when it comes to shading SM 👌)

is always striving to become a better version of himself no matter what he is doing

spreads love in any way he knows how, whether it be verbally or through his actions or through the way his gaze lingers when reading comments or how focused he is on specific dance moves or how attentive he is to his friends... jeno always does what he can to brighten the world of those he loves and those who love him and he deserves the sun moon and stars because of this

[giogio-gucci-gangstar]

Diego Week: College AU

This is the crack fic my heart has always wanted, and @jjba-arni-reblog helped me achieve this horrible horrible dream. 

CW: study abroad, frat boy influences, (references to) Barbie as Rapunzel, and necromancy 

“So I guess this hellhole is our dorm?” Diego scowled as he skeptically took in the shanty little dorm room he would be sharing for the next three months. And this small little Argentinian university room was supposed to house himself and his giant of a roommate. Who was grinning like a happy idiot. 

“Oh it doesn't look that bad! If we just bunk the beds-”

“Trying to crush me in my sleep so early in the semester is pretty pathetic.” Jonathan stopped talking and just gave him a small hurt expression. Damn it, that himbo of a man was soft and clearly did not understand his humor. This was going to be a long semester. 

Diego had chosen to study abroad in Buenos Aires because of the paleontology programs, and similarly his roommate Jonathan had chosen this location for its Incan ruins programs. So at least the university had put two studious boys together. Unlike their immediate neighbors. 

Their names were Dio and Johnny, the latter being American which should be a good indicator of how seriously he chose his education. And Dio didn’t seem too different. After meeting them in the hall, just once, Diego was pretty sure Dio had only come here for Carnival(?) and had themed this entire semester’s wardrobe around a festival.  He had absolutely no desire to be around people like that. 

~~~~~~~

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” Jonathan cheerfully asked his roommate. Diego looked at him skeptically. Yes they had lived together for a week, but he wasn’t looking to form any attachments while he was here. 

“I think i'm going to the dig site.” Diego let out noncommittally. Jonathan’s face fell a little bit. He was like a large puppy dog that required compassion to survive. How pathetic. But Diego didn’t want an emotionally disturbed roommate so he continued. 

“Aren’t you from the same uni as that yellow bastard next door?” Diego offered. 

“Yeah! How did you know? Have you talked to Dio? He's a little-” 

“No I haven't and I have no desire to,” Diego breezed past the possibility of being introduced to the yellow monstrosity next door. “Johnny goes to my university, but he is a year younger.” 

“Oh isn't that funny!” Jonathan was laughing. Diego honestly did not understand why. 

“What is funny?” Diego was skeptical about where this conversation could possibly go without getting even more uncomfortable. 

“Just that we’re neighbors with people we go to school with.” 

“That’s not funny, it's just a fact.” Diego pointed out, trying to collect his things to go study somewhere else. 

“I suppose it's more ironic than funny,” Jonathan was either overly friendly or could not read people at all because he continued talking anyway. “But the boys next door are throwing a little party and we’re invited, and well, I'm going and kinda hope you will too?” 

Diego looked at him with his best blank face, “I’ll consider it.” Jonathan looked slightly offended and he didn't want to be totally cruel so he amended, “What time does it start?” 

“I'm going over at 10!” Jonathan cheerfully offered. 

“I'll be there at 11.” Diego said hurriedly as he left. 

Shit, he had just agreed to go to a party. He looked desperate. Diego rationalized that he would simply show up later than he said and that he really ought to go to the party because he might as well party if he wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway. 

~~~~~~~

It was 11:15 and Diego had chugged three beers and a red bull to prevent a hangover. Currently he was sitting on a beat up sofa Johnny and his flamboyant friend had found on the corner or some street. Next to Jonathan, whom he was rather upset at because he had said it would be a ‘party’ and it was just the four boys with a pack of beers. Which was pretty lame.

“Do you guys even know how to have fun? You two just mess around in the dirt and then spend the entire evening in the library or the dorm” Johnny eyed his lame neighbors as he went to get a beer out of the fridge. 

“Fucking losers” Dio simply noted, sprawled out over ¾’s of the couch lazily. He smirked a little as he heard Jonathan let out a shocked sigh and Diego felt himself getting angrier.

“Well then, Joestar. Why don’t you tell me about all the ‘hot girls’ you’ve ‘smashed’” Diego eyed the younger blonde making sure he noticed his sarcasm. 

“Because as far as I remember, you didn’t. More like you brought them home and they came with me.” he chuckled as Johnny got more and more annoyed with each new sentence “or should I say cumming with me?”

Dio’s laugh could be heard from the couch as Johnny tried not to punch the little bastard, instead hoping to bring out more cruel details about the older man. Jonathan meanwhile, was furiously blushing. This conversation was making him terribly uncomfortable. 

“Hey, dino-fucker, why don’t you go get oiled up and roll around in the sand some more with Jonathan” Johnny said, yet his voice sounded polite as he said the other man’s name, he didn't have anything against Jonathan. Yet.

“Insult what I do one more time kid and I will fucking rip your head off.” Diego stepped closer to Johnny, taking the opportunity to remind Joestar that he, Diego, was a year older than him. Diego would do anything if it meant pissing off Johnny. 

“Alright, let’s not fight there” Jonathan suddenly stepped in, trying his best to stop the angry boys. “Johnny, please do not shame Diego for...whatever he is interested in” he continued, trying not to feel embarrassed having said that.

“Oh and he is into some interesting things too!” Johnny started to flush in anger, surely he knew where this was going. “I know you have some weird ass fetishes yourself, I did hear some rumors about you” Diego said angrily, making Johnny’s blood boil.

“I DON’T have any weird preferences or fetishes!” Johnny groaned, now annoyed at the two of them.

“Not true, you get off from bug bites” Dio spoke out lazily, however Johnny could feel the bastard smirking as he so calmly revealed one of Johnny’s secrets. 

“Which side are you on, Dio?” Johnny now felt angry at his own roommate/friend.

“No one’s. I just like the drama” the older somehow unrelated Brando answered.

“Dio cried after ‘Barbie as Rapunzel’” Jonathan suddenly said, earning a sudden gasp from Dio as the two other men’s eyes widened.

“I did NOT” Dio tried to deny but it was too late. Johnny and Diego burst out laughing, almost falling on the floor at the new gained information.

“Oh my fucking god” Diego screamed through laughter.

       “Either way, it’s not near as sad and pathetic and lonely as liking digging shit up.” Johnny was trying desperately to turn the situation against Diego and Jonathan again. Dio was already a moody guy, he did not want to see him angry. 

       “Now that’s just not true!” Now Jonathan was getting worked up. He actually stood up from the couch, pushing Dio’s legs off of his lap, and pointed to the door. 

       “Let’s go to our room, I have some things that will change your mind about archeology. And I’m sure Diego has some things too!” This was all getting much too friendly for Diego. He really wasn't drunk enough for a ‘I promise the things I find in the dirt are cool’ argument. 

       “I guess…” Diego tried not to sound too terribly enthusiastic. Though he would be lying if he said it didn't genuinely piss him off when people mocked paleontology. Especially that rat bastard Johnny. 

Diego quickly ruffled through his small fossil collection from the dig site, while Jonathan pulled out some photos of a Mayan bloodletting relic. (Jonathan included a disclaimer that it was a photo from his professor’s dig in southern Mexico because it was Mayan, not Incan, but the other boys were too drunk to care about regional and cultural specialties). 

Jonathan was reading some of the Spanish transcripts from his professor’s photos when Diego finally found what he was looking for. A spinosaurus tooth, which was still so sharp it nicked his hand when he pulled it out from the back of the drawer. 

“Shit it cut me” Diego mumbled as he walked to the sink to rinse off the blood. Johnny and Dio were silent as Jonathan finished reading. They all turned to look at Diego blankly. 

“What is it? What did you just read?” Diego was becoming a little suspicious. 

“It was a necromancy ritual often used along with bloodletting…” Jonathan said softly. All of the blood rushed out of his face when he realised the tooth he had dropped wasn't just a tooth, but was not set in the small jaw of a breathing spinosaurus. 

         “What the fuck did we just do…” Jonathan’s eyes were blown wide with terror. 

“We? WE? You, YOU were the one who thought it would be fun to read that piece of shit-” Diego’s tirade was cut off as Dio howled in laughter as the creature lunged towards Jonathan’s leg marking the moment the night officially dissolved into chaos.

[katsukikitten]

Lust and a whiskey neat

"Really you're going to see that crack head who dyes his hair fire truck red?" Your friend asks applying a hefty layer of lip gloss before she poses for a few hundred selfies for her Insta. She angles the camera down and it captures her tits and pouty mouth.

"Tacky really." She says as the sound of her nails click on her phone screen. She's probably sending it to six different guys first before posting it to the gram with some basic bitch caption.

"He isn't tacky." You roll your eyes as you apply your eyeliner on thickly. It's black as your heart and as sharp as a knife. Perfect to match your all black aesthetic

"He's a pro hero you know." You look at her a moment in your giant shared mirror staring at your complete opposite side. She was always about looks, caring solely about catching a man's attention.

Whether it be good or bad as she smiles mischievouslly at her matte pink phone, with a little cellphone charm swinging as she replies furiously.

The white and red catch your eye and you smirk, applying your mascara.

"You think Todoroki's red hair is tacky too then?" She gives you a rare look at her real eyes far from the normal doe look she gives guys. It is sharp and unforgiving, tactful as she speaks.

"Please Todoroki-sama is far from tacky." She wants to hold your gaze but you're too busy making a little heart beside your eye, she chooses to admire herself. Wiggling in her too tight mauve pink dress, adjusting her tits to sit better. She smooths her long dark hair, her bright nails with a single rhinestone catch your eye.

"I'm not seeing him tonight. I'm working remember." You step back and look yourself over. Adjusting your low cut shirt where it shows just enough cleavage for extra tips from guys but not too much that women will not tip you at all. You slide your cellphone into your ripped black jean shorts.

"Besides he is just a customer who comes in and sits at my bar every now and again after a long shift."

She gives you a pointed look, texting without looking.

"Oh so every night for the past month is every now and again?" She rolls her eyes, "Then I only talk to about six guys at a time every now and again."

You laugh at her bluntness. It's true she always kept men on the fringes, never fully letting her guard down. Plus why would she when she was the top escort at Madam's.

"You know you'd make more at work if you escorted someone." She looks you over, you're both naturally pretty. Having this sort of magnetism about you, "Like a lot more."

She eyes your boobs and ass, mentally comparing them and making a satisfied face.

"I couldn't balance it as well as you." You admit.

"You're fucking right about that!" She snaps a selfie, pulling her dress past her nipple but hiding it behind the fisted fabric, "But you're lucky. You're the type of girl that one guy will pay to be exclusively theirs for fucking life."

She smirks as her phone pings in reply.

"But..." You hesitate as you lace your black converse, Madam has asked if you'd like to try, that if you wanted you could be more than the bar keep and the bouncer rolled in one. Most of the girls were quirkless or cared so little for their power that majority of them were beginning to forget how to use them.

Your friend didn't bother to even learn how to control hers, though her power must be difficult to aim as she has always had fortune, Lady Luck on her side if you will.

Even getting out of being arrested when the officer watched the crime with his own eyes.

"Akime..."

"No you don't have to fuck any of the customers. Madam prefers that you don't." She holds your gaze, "I'm serious."

"Well what I was going go say is get your fucking shoes we're gonna be late."

"I'm never late as nothing starts until I arrive."

Its slow even for a Thursday but that doesn't stop you from pouring a whiskey neat and setting it at the bar stool off to your right.

Like clock work the hero comes in, still dressed in his uniform, though there isnt much of one for him to wear before he sits in his usual stool.

"You remembered." He smiles but the joy stays out of his eyes. You bite the inside of your lip, this is abnormal for him and you should know cause you can read body language as if it were a simple book. You're a bar tender it's a prerequisite. Talking and sounding like you care equals big tips.

"What's eating you tonight?" You ask, deft hands shining glasses, setting them up neatly for the order that's going to come from table two. Ruby eyes stare into the brown liquid that he swirls. He bites his lip, debating on telling you.

"I've uh... I've got to find a date for this big gala thing." He downs the whole glass and you blink.

"Well don't look so downtrodden, you're in the perfect place. Our hybrid bar is for meeting people or escorts." You gesture behind him and he looks over his slumped shoulders spying a too tight pink dress, he's had his eye on someone at this place.

"We've got booze and bitches." You laugh at your own joke and he turns to give you a softened look.

"No these women are so kind, far from bitches." You refill his drink off record as an apology, "You're right I am in the perfect place with stunning women on short notice but..."

"But?" You turn to grab the top shelf tequilla, he hardly let's his eyes linger over your sculpted legs. He looks over his shoulder again, as if debating. He swallows his drink whole again, slamming the glass down.

"But I have to get a date for a friend too." He looks crestfallen at the bottom of his empty glass. You refill it before continuing your specialty 'lust' margaritas.

"Well we have a variety of women here to choose from. Bring him in, he's bound to see someone his type." You says as you place the blood oranges just right on the rim of the glass careful not to disrupt the red salt and pink sugar.

"That's the problem he has no type!" He sighs frustrated, "Hasn't for as long as I've known him. Work is his only type."

"Oh he's a virgin then." You wipe the base of the glass before setting them on a tray for Momo, "Yikes."

She grabs the tray with a smile as she sashays to her usual customer. The red head laughs aloud.

"Far from!" He chuckles into his drink, "He's slept with lots of women."

"Oh then what's the problem?"

"That it's a 'date', pretend or not he's awful at PDA. Our PR manager says we need this exposure. A little love drama." His red eyes become puppy dog big as he looks at you as if you have the answers.

Akime makes her fake laugh loudly, her nails catching your eye as she makes her hand signal to ready her drinks. You make quick work on a lust margarita and two shots of vodka. You slice another blood orange as she sways her hips your way.

"Are they almost ready Y/N?" Her tone is all sugar but only because someone is at the bar, she mock gasps as if she didn't see him. Leaning over a bit to give him a better view of her overflowing breasts.

"And who might this be, Y/N?" She smiles, eyes flickering to you.

"Oh ah...actually I don't think he's ever introduced himself. I only know his hero name. Red Riot." You say sheepish for the first time in your life.

"Kirishima Eijirou." He says gently. You see Akime's plan of adding him to her throng of followers set in motion.

"Ah your red hair is so cool!" She says fingering the strands gently. You inwardly roll your eyes.

"Oh thank you. Not as cool as your Louboutins." He smiles a sharp toothed smile, you notice a dusting of pink on Akime's cheeks. Could she always fake a blush like that or...or was that real?

"What's your name?" His voice is butter smooth. She blinks at him wildly, noting that his eyes are, and have been, firmly locked with hers.

"Akime. You sure know your shoes."

"Your Prada dress is gorgeous too." He offers his sharp smile again and this time the blush deepens just a hue, "But you could wear a potato sac and it still wouldn't distract me from your stunning eyes."

"M..my eyes?" You cannot hide the surprise on your face, she has never stammered before. Kirishima nods as the man from her table calls out, his beady eyes glued to her ass.

"Akime dear.."

"Coming!" She sings back, blowing him a kiss before she almost glares at the bar's new ruby eyed patron.

He doesn't watch her go, a feat you've never seen any man take. Instead he sighs into his drink, mind clouded with worry.

"Well he's bound to like someone here." Your eyes gravitate to Madame's highest earner who also just happens to be your roommate. Kirishima follows your line of sight, watching the woman in pink take a shot.

"Yea...someone."

Your night with the red head is filled with odd conversation as he tells you all about his hero work.

Honestly you welcome any conversation that isn't about a sad broken marriage like the sob stories you normally get.

You laugh loudly when he tells you a blunder that Chargebolt did on a job and how angry Ground Zero got.

You do not notice how his ruby red eyes shine when you belt with joy. The clock tower near by chimes, singing its praises for closing time.

"Oh ah I'm sorry Kirishima-san but it seems its quiting time." You smile sweetly as Akime makes her way to the back room for her jacket.

"Ah will you ladies be safe to walk home this late at night?" He asks, voice suddenly sober with concern. You giggle , Akime returns from the backroom quickly in her pink faux fur jacket eyes narrowed to slits. She slips her hand onto his strong arm, pressing her glossed lips to his ear earning a huge blush.

"Y/N could kick your ass and I would be happy to watch. Please leave fire engine." She is no longer wearing her persona, something you've never seen her show a male before. He blinks, stunned at the sudden switch before he turns to her with a wide smile.

"I knew you that dumb doe look wasn't real." He squeezes her hand to his chest with his arm, this time leaning his lips to her ear, "Real men actually enjoy a woman with intellect. I believe you've been holding the attention of too many boys"

He gives her a cat like smile before stopping at the front door.

"See you tomorrow ladies. Same time." And with that he leaves with a wink.

&&&&

8:15pm comes soon rather than later and you've got a whiskey neat lined up in his usual seat, another glass pending a drink as you're expecting his friend but you do not want to assume.

Kirishima waves with a sharp toothed smile as he walks in followed by an extremely grumpy looking ash blonde.

You smile as they take their seats, except Kirishima sits a seat down from his usual, putting him on the end of the bar where he faces the length of the bar but can turn his head to the side to see the low couches.

You swallow as the angry blonde takes his seat, scarlet eyes glowering at the drink.

"This shit must be for you, shitty hair." He says as he slides the whiskey neat as if it were poison. Kiri retorts with a smile before his ruby eyes settle over the low couches. You follow his gaze to see it settled on *her* couch. You sigh turning to the agitated blonde.

"What can I get you?" You're cheery and offer a bright smile to which he sneers, you offer a drink menu when he does not answer you.

"Why the fuck did you drag me here?" The young hero asks, dropping his giant and in your opinion gaudy, grenade vambraces. They hit the floor with enough weight that all the glass behind the bar rattles. You send a nasty glare that goes unnoticed as he stares at Kirishima.

"Ah well..." He scratches the back of his head as he sips on his drink.

"He's trying to find you a date. Which to me already seems next to impossible considering how rude you are." You fake a smile at the end as you add "Now do you want anything to drink or no?"

The blonde glares your way for the first time tonight.

"I want a drink that will make you less of a bitch." He growls and you feel your temper flair.

"Oh so sorry, I can't make one of those for you, just like I can't make a drink that will make you less of a fucking asshole. But maybe a vodka Sprite will shut you the fuck up." You snap, pouring his drink with speed before slamming it down on the bar to attend to the incoming Friday night crowd.

You pour hundreds of drinks in the span of just a few hours as you submerge yourself in your work. Serving the drinks that are ready for tables by the edge of the bar where Kirishima sits and taking new orders from waiting customers all the while a set of scarlet eyes watch.

Watch you flirt.

Watch you bend over just enough for guys to get a better view of your tits earning a better tip.

They watch you smile and it causes his heart to race, especially when you share it with another man hinting at an innuendo.

Through all that you still manage to refill Kiri's and that damn ash blonde's glass, though you give him something different after each drink.

You set the house special of Lust before him and he stares at the red sunset colored drunk.

"What the hell is this?" He asks gruffly, the first words to you since your comment.

"Lust." You smile at him, a real smile as you are delighting in his slight discomfort, "But maybe I should make you a drink called love instead..."

"No, I told you that my services don't go that far."Akime laughs though you know she's holding back rage, "Please I enjoy your company and don't want to ask you to leave."

You don't catch the first que as the blonde yells in your direction.

"I said no!" And then she giggles but his hands try to pry her crossed legs open.

Kirishima notices, a hot rage burning in his stomach as he picks Akime up gently, placing her on her two feet in her prada shoes behind him before he leans in real close to the mans face.

"I think you should get your hearing checked. The beautiful lady said no, not convince me." His voice is dark and the drunk man rears his fist, his gaudy rings catching the light attracts your eye and you jump over the bar.

You didn't do your research on Red Riot, so you wouldn't have known that the man swinging would have broken his fist against a stone face instead you slam your own fist so hard into greasy skin that two gold teeth and a string of blood fly out.

Unfortunately for you, you've just hit a pretty notorious boss and his goons rise from the surrounding couches. You smile as they lunge your way.

Most of them are easy one punch K.Os, your fist meeting flesh and making that satisfying crack.

Your favorite sound as you feel the orbital bone give way under the force of your fist, power singing through you before they can even use their quirk.

You don't notice the last one coming out of the bathroom, his eyes wide as he stares at his boss lying facedown with a bloodied golden suit. The ox like man charges for you like a bull sees red.

You're turning too late to counter or even block the on coming bear paw. As you brace yourself for what should be a sliding impact you feel a muscular arm wrap around your thick waist as a a powerful palm catches the meaty fist. A series of pops dance along his tight forearm as steam hisses from his palm.

"Tsk. You're really starting to piss me off fatty." His eyes glow red as his tone turns dark

"G...Ground Zero!" He stammers, "Y..you can't sc..scare me."

"Wasn't trying to, tiny." He tightens his grip around his fist before twisting the baemeth's wrist the wrong way. Cracking echos through the quiet room as the man falls to his knees.

The blonde squeezes your hip gently before letting go to walk forward and further damage the man. His snarl turning into a small manic smile. The man shakes beneath the hero. You pull the broad shouldered blonde from the man just to earn a glare.

"I was handling that." A growl, as the man cradles his wrist.

"Yea so well too." Sarcasm drips over every syllable, "Well enough you were planning to take a direct hit to the face."

"I. Had it. Under. Control." You bite out again pushing him, letting your temper heat your blood.

For whatever reason you HATED having a man come to your rescue.Mostly because anytime one of them did, they expected something. You feel the ghost of his hand on your hip, further fueling your rage.

Arrogant

Asshole

Is all you can think as he steps closer, looking down on you as your chests touch, forehead almost touching yours.

"Do you know what his nickname is?" A growl so dark your stomach twists and your muscles tense ready for a fight, "The bone crusher. Do you know why?"

You stare him in the face, starting to see the edges of your vision turn blood red.

"His quirk can shatter bones with just a flick of his fingers. You're lucky I know how to counteract the force," Another growl, "But of course you wouldn't have known what is quirk was because you're too busy flashing your tits for fives."

You see completely in red as your first moves on it's own accord right into his pretty, arrogant asshole mouth. Causing him to slide into your precious bar, wood splinters beneath his weight. He spits blood onto the shining wood top.

But you aren't done there, no you were in full on berserk mood as you jump into the air to get a more intense impact because right now you want to see those kissable lips and those burning eyes bloodied.

"ENOUGH!" You are frozen mid air before you fall to your knees powerless as madame's graying hair stands stick straight. Kirishima and Katuski share a look as they watch the older woman reminding them of their old Sensei.

"A round of free drinks on the house. Mina!" Madame calls, the pink skinned girl bows.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Get started on those orders and make sure they are delicious drinks please darling." She's all sugar before she turns to you, "My office now! All four of you!"

You struggle to stand as your power has been sapped for at least ten minutes.

You feel oddly human and you do not like it as your body seems to weigh too much even for your powerfully toned legs. A busted lip blonde offers you his hand with a scoff and when you push it away he growls, placing his arms beneath your triceps pulling you to your feet before he shoves his hands in his black pants.

He spits blood on the floor again as he follows Kirishima who is gently guiding Akime to the office with a large palm on her mid back.

You and Akime take the two seats across from her oversized desk in her cramped office as the two men stand behind you. She smooths her hair down before setting her sights on you.

"What the hell happened out there?!" A shrill yell, "That's a high ranking thug you've hit out there and do you know who that is?"

You follow her finger over your shoulder and huff angrily. His arms are crossed and his scarlet eyes are averted.

"No ma'am. I do not."

"Well you should!" She slaps a newspaper on the desk for you to see, you peer down at the blonde who, even though you'd hate to admit, looks cool as hell as he crouched, just dodging a punch and already mid counter.

"He's tied for number one!" She slams the paper with her wrist for emphasis, "And you bruised his handsome face!"

"I..."

"No, no excuses. Now Red Riot and Ground Zero what brings you two here today?" Her dark eyes slide over the built men. Kirishima laughs, scratching the back of his head.

"Well we need dates for this gala...." He says honestly as the aura from behind you goes from pissed to seething, you can almost hear the popping sound of his quirk.

"You're in the right place." Madame smiles, "Did you have any ladies in mind?"

His ruby eyes fall to your friend who is sitting with her hands in her lap, fighting mixed emotions about tonight. Though to the naked eye she seems relaxed, bored even.

She inspects her matte pink nails to further emphasize her facade.

"Well only if she agrees to it." He says softly before meeting the gaze of the older woman.

"Akime will accept. Now love what is your external rate at these days?" Madame asks, plucking a pen from her chaotic desk with ease.

"250 an hour, and additional 50 an hour if there is physical contact. Kisses on the cheek are 20 bucks and kisses on the lips are 55 a piece." Akime says as she reaches for her phone to text idly.

Kirshima feels his soul leave his body as Katsuki's eyes narrow on his supposed friend.

"And for your friend?"

Kirishima's eyes shift to you wholly noticed by Madame.

"I'm not sure who he would pick but as far as her prices I can't..."

"You won't have to. I will lend these two ladies to you free of charge as an apology for the rough night Y/N has put you through." She scribbles on paper.

"That is very generous but.." Eji starts only to be interrupted once again.

"There are no buts in this conversation. I will allow you these two women for the whole evening. Return them at midnight or let me know other wise should they somehow fall in love with your boyish charm and his brutish way of showing affection." She does not look up from her notes.

"Th..thank you madame." Kirishima bows as Katsuki sucks his teeth before they both leave with her business card in hand to provide details for later. The second the two men leave you find yourself and Akime speaking over one another.

"He's such a fucking brute. Why did you pick me? He should take Urakaka san or one of the other hmm I dont know actually escorts."

"Madame I cannot be SEEN with firetruck and especially not for FREE?! Ugh and it matches his sparkling eyes and it's kinda cuu... really ugly madam I cannot go on like this. I'm being punished. I was the victim here!"

"SILENCE BOTH OF YOU!" You both flinch for fear of her power stripping quirk. It even makes the quirkless feel weak.

"I'm still going to pay you both. Just not your external rates Akime. I'm going to pay your normal rate doubled as with you Y/N." She finally holds eye contact switching between you two, "Do you know what this will do for the escort services and the bar? Hero exposure will have this place skyrocketing, we won't even have to advertise that is our establishment as everyone knows where Akime works what with her large male following. And with the world renowned drinks you've made Y/N everyone will be all over this joint. And hell Akime maybe you'll even catch the eye of Todoroki."

You both stare dumbfounded.

"But.." You say in unison.

"But you both need to leave before I make these a series of dates."

[yourfaveisyanderematic]

im thinking about that trish/bodyguard so piece you wrote a while back, and all I can think about is trish being so desperate for any sort of affection that she’s just like “okay, time to fake my own kidnapping”

Hm.  I put my Narancia piece down to bang out something for this prompt bc this is, as the kids say, a mood.  Modified it just slightly though, because that’s how I am.

love is just another kind of greed.

Trish didn’t get the appeal of dogs.

They were cute, sure.  Little silky fluffy things that yipped and yapped and tolerated being carried around in purses.  They were also expensive as hell—hundreds of thousands of lire could be invested in premium shampoos, gold-flaked specialty foods, champion breeding (why, again?  You’re not taking this dog to any fucking show, Anastasia, you don’t need it)—and those two things alone should have had her clamoring to get one.

She didn’t want one, though.  Dogs were frail, frilly little things that cried endlessly when you kicked them (even if it was an accident) and whined for attention even if you were busy, and they couldn’t do anything, anyway.  They could posture, sure.  Strike a pose and bark and bark like the silly boys playing at being gangsters she had to tolerate every now and then, but if you pointed a gun at one and pulled the trigger, that would be that.  They’d fall over with a little sigh and get all still and silent, and then they wouldn’t be good for anything anymore.

The reason she was thinking about this, by the way, was because she was bored.  You were taking forever.  Weren’t you taking this whole kidnapping thing seriously?

“How’s your ankle, babe?”

Ugh.  Trish took a breath and pulled a smile onto her lips, gently tipping her head back to look up at the man.  Despite the coiffed hair and designer shoes, he’s nothing special; some dumb kid with good looks and soft hands, partying his youth away with cash that wasn’t his.  A drop in the bucket of young hedonists.  The kind who took a pretty girl’s smile as an invitation and the light brush of hands as a blank check.  More importantly, however, he was the kind she could lure in without too much effort, too eager to get into her pants to ask many questions.

She didn’t even remember his name.  

Trish raised her foot, a languidly elegant motion that let his eyes trace every inch of her delicate skin, and after a moment’s hesitation he rearranged the pillow to better cushion the black-bruised skin, one of a handful of trophies from an ‘accidental’ fall she took down the stairs here.

“I’m bored,” she replied, as if the pain thrumming through the fibers of her muscles didn’t exist (it was that easy to ignore; she’d endured worse for less) “don’t you have anything fun to do?”

He hummed back, delicately rubbing small circles around the site of the bruise, cushioning the movement by keeping his other hand on her heel.  She suppressed a laugh; were those tentative prods supposed to do anything?  Did he think she’d shatter if he touched her?

Despite his arrogance, Rich Boy here didn’t have much initiative; the only thing Trish didn’t have to prod him into doing was getting her back to his expensive loft.  Frankly, it was a miracle the two of them had managed to slip away from you at all.

I’d love to party with you, cutie, but first we have to ditch my chaperone.  Come on, let’s go before they notice we’re not at the bar anymore.

Throwing herself down the stairs in a tangle of Versace and toned limbs had been an impulse, but wasn’t everything tonight?  So what if she’d scraped herself up, or felt a horrible snap inside her leg as she plummeted to the bottom.  It’d all be worth it soon, once you’d realized she’d been made off with and had to go find her.

You really did need to hurry it up, by the way.  Eventually Rich Boy here was going to get his nerve up and actually try to touch her, and then she’d have to just kill him and wait for you by herself.  That would be boring, too.

He probably didn’t even notice she was getting impatient, honestly.  His eyes seemed to be on a rail, tracing a line from her plush lips to the delicate hollow of her collarbone to lower still.  Typical, really.  

Rich Boy starts to chatter, some fumbling innuendo about the things they could get up to with just the two of them, but she isn’t paying any attention to that.  In the space between heartbeats, the air changed, the stale conditioned air suddenly heavy with tension that only she could feel.  The storm had rolled in.  It was coming down the hall.

Rich Boy’s voice registered, asking if she was okay, and it was in that moment Trish realized she’d been sitting bolt upright, abandoning the discomfort of the expensively minimalistic couch as she waited for the storm to draw nearer.

It knocked on the door.  Three short, sharp taps that resounded in the relative silence of the loft, a muted thunder.

“Who could that be?” Rich Boy muttered to himself, and then “Stay right here.  I’ll get it.” as he wandered off.  She didn’t reply, just listened, heart in her throat as his footsteps echoed across the tile, undoing the lock on the front door and drawing it open to meet the interloper.

“Can I help—“ the words weren’t even out of his mouth as something—your fist, Trish thought with a thrill of delight, you must have hit him—connected with a hollow-sounding thud, and his body careened into the dining table.  

“Holy shit!”

“Where is she?”  In contrast to his own panicked scrabbling, your footsteps were slow and measured as you advanced.  You didn’t even shut the door behind you; there’s no need to.  Nobody stupid enough to try to help could stop you.

Trish considers throwing herself off the couch—she wants to watch you work, and maybe seeing her sprawled on the floor would make her seem more helpless—but you’re already in view, poking your head into the doorway after the Rich Boy who staggered back in, and she knows what you’re seeing: your charge, sprawled on some pervert’s couch, visibly bruised.  You opened your mouth to say something, but Rich Boy drew your attention.

“Jesus Christ—don’t come any closer, or I’ll—“ the gun he pulled was just as flashy as the rest of him, and equally worthless; under the gaudy gold plating and filigree was a waste of metal that wouldn’t be hurting anyone tonight.

If nothing else, because the safety was still on.

You didn’t even respond, except to sigh.  The invisible blades of your Stand sliced apart the gun and the hand holding it, showering him in splintered metal as he went down with a high-pitched shriek of agony.  You strode forward, stepping on his leg to hold him in place as he started to crawl away, already deaf to the whimpering babble that might have been bargaining.  Your head turned, pinning Trish in place with your stare.

“I wish you wouldn’t do this, Miss Una.”

Your voice was soft, but with an edge, the one that always gave Trish a thrill of joy when she heard it.  It was different from your normal tone, the indulgently subservient I’m your faithful bodyguard and nothing more mask you wore when other people were watching.  Different, too, from the terrified adoration you held for her in private as she did what she pleased with you.

This was your bite.  Incandescent rage, barely restrained in the taut coil of your muscles and your piercing glare.  It was hideous, savage, implacable, the look that heralded only pain and death as you obliterated anyone who even breathed a threat in her presence.

How dare you, you said with every movement as your Stand opened the man up in a shower of blood, how dare you try to steal her.  How dare you let her come to harm.

How dare you touch my master with your dirty hands.

No command she gave could ever get you like this.  You were a killing machine she could point at anyone she chose with only a glance; you would destroy yourself for her whims, if she let you, but there was no passion in obedience.  

Your voice has turned plaintive, almost hurt, and it puts her back in the moment.  “Do you doubt my devotion?  Were you just bored?  You could have just told me to kill for you.  Look, I’ve even let you hurt yourself.  How can I face your father now?”

Don’t look away, Trish wanted to cry out, seeing you turn your glare back toward the remains of your enemy, get angry with me.  Let me see how love twists your face.

These were the moments she knew you loved her.  The uncontrollable passion of your fury, for her and only her, only shone when something threatened to take her from you.  These were the moments that Trish Una well and truly and fully felt wanted, and they were getting addicting.  Was it cruel to do this to you—to drive you to this edge of madness, repeatedly and on a whim, purely to satiate her cravings?  Perhaps, but it felt good not to care.  

You drew near to her, taking another look at her injuries, and she breathed the smell of blood and smoke that hung around you like it was perfume.  Your touch was delicate, but not gentle, and after a few seconds you pronounced it definitively broken.  She wouldn’t be walking for a while.  She was fine with that.

“Then you’ll have to carry me everywhere,” she declared, crossing her arms.  You met her eyes, searching them for something, and then raised a hand to graze her cheek.  She leaned into it a little, sure that it was a caress, but your hand came away with a smear of blood; you’d been rubbing it away.

“If that’s your wish, Miss Una,” you murmured, and then gathered her into your arms.  Her arms wrapped around your shoulders as she relaxed into you, until her lips were inches away from your own.  You didn’t incline your head in the slightest as you carried her out of the loft, just let your breath ghost across her face until she finally closed the distance and kissed you full on the mouth in the elevator.

There wasn’t any appeal in dogs for someone who already had a wolf.

[ducktracy]

155. picador porky (1937)

release date: february 27th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: tex avery

starring: joe dougherty (porky), mel blanc (drunks), billy bletcher (bull)

while mel blanc provided porky’s shrieks in porky the wrestler, this is often considered his first role in a warner bros cartoon, or at least a role of substantial size. porky has also been considerably slimmer down. other directors such as ub iwerks and bob clampett would follow suit, with frank tashlin being the lone fat porky straggler. this is where i think looney tunes really start to shift in tone and truly become recognizably looney. porky gets refined, mel blanc puts his foot in the door... great things lie ahead! (and an interesting note—i’m using the porky pig 101 rip for quality, but the title card music is actually ripped from porky’s tire trouble. this is the beginning of many, many, MANY reuses... so get ready.) here, porky assumes the role of a toreador, hoping to win the cash prize with ease as his buddies promise to dress up as a bull and provide an even fight. however, when his buddies get into the bottle, porky finds himself fighting a REAL bull instead, and a cash prize seems none too likely.

the cartoon opens with an expositional foreword:

slumbering peacefully ‘neath the warm caresses of the noonday sun, lies the sleepy little village of la rosita. it presents a scene of serene quietude and beauty as its inhabitants enjoy their mid-day siesta preceding the annual bull-fight. the solitude is broken only by the occasional strains of a soft guitar.

tex does a wonderful job of painting the perfect setting that almost anyone can imagine (even if he does spell preceding as preceeding). and so, of course, it’s only right that the scene after the foreword completely defies every word. gunshots, shouting, people running amuck, a flurry of activity. this setup would be borrowed at the beginning of bob clampett’s naughty neighbors (which, funnily enough, also has the porky’s tire trouble music tacked onto it).

however, tex was right on the soft strains of the guitar: a mariachi band gets together to play “la cucaracha”. a variety of visual gags accompany the music, whether it be men head-butting each other, a man drying himself off with a towel, or a kid poking his head out of a pot carried by his mother, interjecting “swing it, mama, swing it!”, a man shaking a cocktail, you name it. there’s animation reused from a friz cartoon of a girl dancing with a cloth—i believe it may be from billboard frolics.

enter porky and his two mysteriously unnamed buddies, both sliding into view from opposite sides as they all approach the gate to the town. porky and co are nonplussed by the fervent celebration—we get a rolling pan of the action. gunshots, dancing, confetti, the works. a poster tacked up to a tree captures the audience’s attention:

TO-DAY

BULL FIGHT

1000 PESOS

TO THE

WINNER!

the camera then trucks out to reveal porky and his entourage staring at the poster. i was listening to mark kausler’s commentary on porky’s romance (which is coming up very soon, hooray! next porky cartoon!) and he mentioned how the camerawork could be a bit jittery and choppy on zoom outs such as these. the same applies here, the zoom out is a little jittery, but it’s a niche complaint. something i never would have thought to notice! porky signals for his buddies to bend down low, and he whispers an inaudible plan in their attentive ears.

fade out and in to a costume shop, where porky and co hurry inside. a few seconds later and out marches porky in a matador costume, a makeshift bull outfit marching behind, tail pompously raised in the air. topping the gag off, as if it wasn’t obvious, mel blanc provides his first coherent line of dialogue in a warner bros cartoon as the two buddies unmask themselves, reassuring the audience “it’s us!”

elsewhere, the stadium packs full to bursting with eager spectators, waiting to see the bullfight in action. some of the animation of the spectators streaming into the stadium would be reused as an overlay in porky & daffy. elsewhere, porky and his “bull” tiptoe into the back entrance, where they encounter the actual bull for the fight, pent up in a cage that reads “1st event”. the real bull mistakes the fake bull for a female, hearts pouring out as billy bletcher provides an “mmmmm-mmmm!” from the bull.

porky wheels the bull cage out of the way, fetching an empty cage for his buddies to hide out in until the fight. porky tends to his business, leaving his buddies alone, when a pesky bee flies into the cage. clever visuals of the guy in the bottom half trying to smack the bee, his hand clearly sticking out of the tail. the bee lands on the bull’s “butt”, to which the hand promptly smacks. though he hit himself in the process, the guy has successfully taken care of the bee, flicking it offscreen.

meanwhile, a bottle of alcohol catches the attention of the front half. carl stalling debuts his favorite drunken motif of “how dry i am” as the bull head opens up, buddy #1 taking a hearty gulp of the liquor. mel blanc works his magic as #1 wheezes and coughs, sputtering “hey, this is fine stuff!” buddy #2 pokes his head out of the butt and helps himself. wonderful animation as the alcohol settles in, #2 spinning and contorting the bull costume from the impact. he gives his seal of approval by slurring incomprehensibly.

the next scene has some wonderful animation paired with mel blanc’s hiccups. drunk #2 begins to hiccup, sinking back into the bull costume. what starts as a string of hiccups morphs into an uncontrollably frenzy, the bull’s back half rocketing up and down and flailing all over the place as the hiccups render drunk #2 (and #1) useless. eventually, the force of the hiccups is so strong that #2 lodges the entire bull outfit out of the cage, the cage now empty.

in the arena, a trumpeter blares out the beginning fanfare, and a number of miscellaneous doors—wooden, steel, even a safe—slide out of view, one by one, revealing the bullfighter’s entrance. this gag, paired with the same music, would be reused in porky in wackyland and later the remake, dough for the do-do. the gag would be reused to a similar degree in another one of tex’s shorts, northwest hounded police over at MGM. while the gag is funny as it is, even more amusing is that the doors open to reveal absolutely nothing. a beat, and then tiny little porky jumps out of a hidden door to the (our) right of the grand entrance, posing triumphantly. porky shakes his hands in the glory, eating up the applause.

back behind the scenes, a guard notices the bull is missing. he wheels away the cage, and spots the ACTUAL bull, wheeling the real bull back in its rightful place. another door gag as an assistant opens a heavyset door, pulling a string that reveals the door to be a curtain. the bull is riled up, snorting wildly. without any further hesitation, it zooms straight into the arena, spinning porky around in a whirlwind in the process.

porky, believing the bull is still his scamming buddies, whistles in awe and speaks out of the side of his mouth, “take it easy, boys! that was a little close!” with that, virgil ross animates a scene of porky doing magic tricks (i had thought this was bob clampett animation, seeing as he had such an affinity with magic, but the movements, shiny eyelids, and dimensional snout give it away as virgil), the bull running straight into porky‘s telltale cape. the animation is as wondrous as the magic trick to the spectators. porky turns the cloth inside and out—no bull. eventually, he shakes the cloth, and his bull plops out onto the ground. porky strikes a jubilant pose, with an angry bull glaring him down.

suddenly, porky whistles. “hey, caddy!” a man appears with a golf club bag full of toilet plungers. you know, the essentials. porky begins to attach the toilet plungers on the bull, one by one. the bull, enraged, shakes all of the plungers off except for one, that sticks to his butt. determined to get it off, the bull fights with himself, and in the midst of the struggle, the plunger gets stuck on his nose. he struggles to pull it off, but manages to do so, drastically elongating his snout in the process and giving a hilarious, squeaky whimper. the payoff is amusing with the visual, but this is definitely an instance where tex’s gags seemed to be randomly placed in with no merit. why was porky sticking the plungers on the bull in the first place? nevertheless, the bull, now more furious than ever, prepares to attack.

chuck jones is responsible for animating this GLORIOUS next scene. it’s one of my favorite scenes he’s ever animated. of the three specialties, two of them are included—closeups and drunks. dogs is his third, but i guess you could count these guys as dogs. regardless, porky’s hammered buddies suddenly burst into the arena, the bull costume ripped in half (and the owners of each half are switched). drunk #2 accompanies the vocal talents of drunk #1 singing la cucaracha. mel blanc’s vocals are absolutely HYSTERICAL. the hiccups, the slurring, the random YIPPEE! even better is watching drunk #1 get up in drunk #2’s face, completely expressionless (except for a drunken smile), the cow head occasionally concealing his head as it falls down and he props it back up. chuck’s movements are smooth, rubbery, and utterly hilarious. this is a great scene and the first time mel blanc truly shines for all to see.

elsewhere, porky’s still waving his little flag around, but pauses to admire the drunken music. suddenly, a revelation. he recognizes his drunks. he stares at the drunks, and then at the bull, prying open the furious bull’s mouth. sure enough, no pals of his are lodged down the bull’s throat. they’re over yonder singing a hammered rendition of la cucaracha.

mel provides porky’s “WOO!” of terror as he scrambles away. nice bit of a 4th wall break that unfortunately doesn’t realize maximum speed potential as porky runs across the borders of the screen, running up the sides and upside down, the bull hot on his tail. meanwhile, the time keeper (as his plaque labels in his stand) blows on a party streamer, a hammer popping out of the end and slamming on a bell.

porky and the bull freeze in their tracks, porky petrified with terror, so much so that two assistants have to physically pick him up from the ground and carry him off. the bull snaps in frustration and gives porky a promising glare of vengeance.

transition to a non-petrified porky gargling with some liquid and spitting it into a funnel with the guidance of his assistants. the bull goes through the same routine, and when the assistant points to the funnel, the bull grabs it and talks into it instead. “hello, mama! hello, papa! it’s great, fine. wish you were here!” even better is the bull’s contented smile at the end of the “call”. a genius gag that is enhanced by the deep vocals of billy bletcher.

the time keeper blows on his party streamer/hammer, and the hammer stops to whack the keeper in the head instead of the bell, a loud bell chime reverberating regardless. the chase resumes. bob clampett animates the next scene of porky sliding into the safe zone—i love porky’s giant satisfied, ecstatic grins as the bull waits patiently outside, humming (a scene clampett would incorporate in his own porky’s last stand, a mega-favorite of mine). in tex avery fashion, the bull defies all logic by lifting the painted lines off of the ground and towering over a terrified porky, who zooms out of sight.

porky’s drunken buddies notice the plight, and are at least sober enough to take action. #1 whispers in #2’s ear, and we see the fully formed bull (really a cow) costume hide behind a wooden barrier. an arm reaches out and grabs a baseball bat and a plank, calling “moooohoooooo!” (instead of “yoohoo!”) in a seductive catcall. the bull takes the bait, lumbering over to the barrier, where the drunks await with their weapons. even better than the typography zooming out of the scene as the fight ensues is mel blanc YELLING the onomatopoeia out loud, batman style. “bang! bam! bop! wham!” the action freezes. then more violence. finally, a victorious rendition of “the lady in red” as the costumed bull marches proudly out of the barrier, unscathed.

the disguise approaches porky, the head giving a befuddled porky a wink. then, the “bull” flops over on its back, tail straight up, a white flag of surrender waving triumphantly in the wind as porky is showered with applause, beaming and raising his sword.

just as porky’s about to collect his earnings, the REAL bull shakes himself to his senses. porky grabs the money bag from the judges, bowing as he twirls his hat victoriously in the air. the fake bull suddenly panics, zooming off screen. porky turns around to see a very angry, real, slightly bruised bull snorting heavily at him. porky shrugs it off, celebrating some more, until he realizes that That’s The Real Deal. mel blanc provides porky’s panicked HOOHOO!s as porky zooms out of the arena. a clever pause, and porky zips back to the bull, offering his money bag, and rocketing out of sight once more. iris out as the bull grumbles “well, imagine that!”—another catchphrase used from a previous tex cartoon, porky the rain-maker.

as i said before, this is the cartoon that really starts that looney feel to me. half of it is mel blanc’s prominence, the other half being porky’s slight redesign—he’d be even skinnier in tex’s next porky, porky’s duck hunt. this is a great cartoon for its time. tex’s gags are amusing—that setup with the whole “sleepy village which is actually a village in chaos” is just sublime. some gags made more sense than others. while the joke was supposed to be the visual of the bull’s elongated snout, porky covering the bull in toilet plungers felt too incongruous and didn’t really fit in. funny, but kinda just floating there. porky’s duck hunt suffers the same fate with the gag of daffy swallowing an electric eel—very funny, but has nothing to do with any of the adjacent scenes. regardless, you need to see this one. mel’s drunken rendition of la cucaracha is certainly the highlight, but there are a lot of fun gags elsewhere. very high energy, very fun, very feel good. give it a go!

link!

[redfoxwritesstuff]

In honour of dear bobby's birthday could you write a fic about reader and tom finding or adopting him as a puppy please?? Love you ❤

Look folks- Someone loves me!! (Let me take a moment to bask in the glow of the anon) and I GOT A REQUEST! ME! I’VE HIT THE BIG TIMES NOW! For those who didn’t realize, I DO in fact, accept requests though I make no promises about the turn around time. I do Prefer them to be for a OC however if a reader insert is requested I will attempt to comply- it simply isn’t my specialty- I tend to be too detailed and long winded for such in my own personal writing style.

On a side note- my ethics will not allow me to do a reader insert in RPF personally so you’ve got a unnamed oc in first person. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy. You CAN design and even name the OC after yourself just don’t let me know that as I don’t support self shipping with real people. 

~~~~~

Finding Bobby

Tom tried to ignore me as I draped myself over him as best I could. He was trying to ignore me and frankly doing a fairly impressive job of it. I wasn’t one to be deterred however and since he kept the script he was reading directly between his face and mine. He was reading it, or at least pretending to rather than paying me any attention.

Oh, it’s not like That.

“If we got a dog, I would have someone else to bug. You do know that, right?” As I spoke, I nuzzled my head down between his chest and the bottom of the page.

It wasn’t really all that dignified of an action and I’m sure I looked rather ridiculous doing it. Still, after some wiggling, I managed to get a reaction. He couldn’t ignore me for long when I was acting like an idiot. It was the best way to get what I wanted.

“I don’t need another needy creature around here. You’re more than enough for me.” Tom looked down at me, his nose brushing mine and eyebrow raised.

“I’m enough for you?” Momentarily I was taken aback by his words.

We’d been together for just over a year but still, it always caught me off guard how easy hew as with his affection and simple declarations of love. Before Tom, the men I had dated always acted tough. I thought that distance and resentment of soft affection was normal.

Setting his script to the side, he draped his arms around me. With his urging, I settled better between his long outstretched legs and against his chest. “You’ve been all I’ve ever wanted from the moment I caught sight of you outside the cafe window. You’ve been more than I’ve needed since you first smiled at me. You’ve been more than I deserved from the moment you first agreed to let me take you out to dinner.”

“You sappy shit.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I slapped his chest. The somewhat serious look on his face bloomed into a warm smile as a chuckle slipped from his lips.

“But- if I’m not all you want and more and you need a dog too. Perhaps I should have a say in the beast. We’ll look at what the shelters have tomorrow, then?”

“It would be good to have someone here with me, to keep me company, when you’re gone.”

“And at times, I am gone a lot.” Tom agreed. “I am sorry to leave you so much.”

“I understand and I knew what I was signing up for from the start.”

“Still, that makes it no less lonely to be apart.” Tom’s lips found mine, ending the discussion. He’d always had a bit of guilt. In keeping our relationship as private as we could, I often didn’t travel with him and he held a seed of fear in his heart that one day soon, I’d grow to resent him for it. Even after I’d moved in with him just a few months ago, that fear lingered.

~~~~~

The morning came early. Too early. Far earlier than I wanted. When the light invaded my eyes, I did what any sane person would have done. I nuzzled my head under the soft pillow and burrowed farther into the mass of blankets. Tom wasn’t having any of that however and rather unceremoniously grabbed the blanket and yanked it off of me.

“Good Morn, Sunshine.” His chipper voice made me want to kick him before grabbing the blankets back and going back to sleep. We’d been up late the night before, making up for lost time and now, how dare he wake me up so early?!

I mumbled something that had to have been a mix of a protest at the early hour and a plea for more sleep. He wasn’t convinced as he shoved a steaming mug into my face.

“Get up, get dressed. We’ve got an appointment to dash off to.”

“An appointment to dash off too.” I mocked into the mug. “What appointment? I though you were free the next few days?” “I am.” Tom nodded. He was already dressed and showered, probably had been out for a run and back. I mumbled something again as he pulled out some clothes for me. “Darling, drink. Up. Dress. let’s go.”

~~~~~

I was longing for a second mug of coffee as Tom pulled me down the sidewalk, ignoring the few looks we got. He was a man on a mission. What was that mission? I had no fucking clue as he man wouldn’t tell me yet. ‘A surprise’ he said. ‘It’s something you asked for’ he said. ‘More sleep’ I said but was ignored. Figures.

We walked and walked. Well rather, he walked and I stumbled along after him in something that I’m sure looked more like a drunk person trying to jog. His legs were too damn long and I took too long sleeping and trying to convince him to let me to back to sleep. We were running late. Which was normal for us, if I’m honest but this time it apparently mattered. Unlike the last two interviews Luke nearly skinned him alive for being late to?

When we turned the corner, it all made sense in an instant. A wide smile stretched across my face. It quickly changed from Tom dragging me down the sidewalk to me running, yanking the lanky man down the sidewalk behind me by his arm. Ever the actor, Tom stumbled after me full of dramatics even though we both knew he could easily keep up with me.

One of us was a runner after all and it most certainly wasn’t me.

We were quickly coming up on the completely average looking building with a wire fence around back. The sign above the brick building read ‘Humane Society’ and I knew now exactly what Tom had planned. I wanted to get a dog and for all Tom’s moaning about it the last few months, he agreed.

“If we don’t find one we like today, we’ll keep looking. Alright, Love?” Giving up on the theatrics, Tom was standing tall and his long legs kept pace with me as if I wasn’t rushing at all.

“Right.” Though I was excited, I had to agree. It was important to find a dog we would both love and that would fit will with us. I could only hope and pray that inside these walls, inside what was surely a too cramped kennel was the dog the universe meant for us to have.

~~~~~

With paperwork filled out and handed in, I bounced in the seat. Tom tried to ignore me, telling me to settle down and such. It was as if he thought I couldn’t see how he’d smile at my excitement.

“Mr. Hiddleston?” A woman called out.

It surprised me that he gave his name. We often used mine when trying to fly under the radar- as much as that was possible when the man was six feet tall and had a fairly distinctive set of curls paired with the cheekbones that someone could cut themselves on.

“You coming?” Tom smiled as he stood.

The bastard knew he caught me off guard. We had talked about being more open about our relationship a few weeks prior but seeing it in practice was different. It occurred to me I shouldn’t be surprised, he didn’t don a hat this morning.

“So, I see here that you travel a lot?” The woman asked as she pretended that she hadn’t recognized Tom from the moment she saw him. Still, the effort was appreciated by Tom. Sometimes the constant attention would drain him. It was nice for him to go somewhere and be ‘just a man’ and while we both knew the woman speaking to us knew him, she was making the effort.

“Yes. I’m often away for a few weeks at time. Sometimes longer for work.” While he answered, Tom laced his fingers in mine and brought the back of my hand to his lips. “She’s often left home alone while I’m gone. We’re looking for someone to be a friend for us both, company for her but healthy enough to travel.”

“Are you looking for a puppy?” She asked.

“Not necessarily.” I answer. “What’s most important is that they are healthy and that they fit, you know?”

The woman nodded and showed us into a large room. Kennels were lined up in neat rows, dogs housed in each. There was barking and whimpers all through the room. We knelt in front of and talked to dog after dog. Large dogs. Small dogs. Old dogs. Young dogs.

It frankly felt like a doomed task. None felt right. None felt like they would belong. We’d looked through nearly every kennel and I’d honestly given up hope. It was dumb to get excited, to think that we’d find the perfect dog on the first try. And Tom was right, like he often was. I knew it. It was important to not just get a dog, but to get the right dog. This was going to be our forever dog. This was going to be a promise that come high tide, come angry fans and gossip rags.

Still, it was hard not to drag my feet and pout as we came to the last kennel. There wasn’t any noise coming from it so I’d expected it to either be empty or to find a dog so ancient we’d only have him for a week or so before he passed.

“Love, look.” Tom crouched down, drawing my eyes up from my feet. He was talking softly to the little brown ball of fluff in the cage. It looked frankly terrified to be there.

“He’s a cocker spaniel, about seven weeks old. Just brought in last night.” The woman offered.

“Oh, Hello darling boy. It’s alright.” Tom waved me down. It was clear as day that the man was enamored by the creature. He did have a soft spot for small terrified things. Normally I only got to see it when I was screaming at him to kill a spider that was clearly more afraid of me than I was of it- or so he’d claim.

Kneeling down, I got a better look at the boy. Small and looking scruffy for a puppy. Tom’s warm voice was lulling it into trusting us however. Slowly, the wobbly boy stood on four too big paws and his tail timidly wagged.

“He’s underweight and being dewormed right now but assuming he doesn’t crash in the next few days he should be ready for adoption within the next two weeks.” The woman asked as I began to coo at the puppy who was licking Tom’s hand. “If he’s the one for you, we can fill the paperwork out and if all goes well, he can go home in as early as two weeks- provided your willing to sign the neutering contract stating you’ll have him fixed in four months.”

At first, I wondered why the woman was telling us this. She’d not told us about any of the other dogs like this. But when I glanced up at her, she had a knowing smile on her face. It was then that I realized, we hadn’t interacted like this with the other dogs.

“What do you think?” Tom whispered.

“I think he’s the one.” It scared me to know that he was so young still. But he looked full of life and if he was really in danger, they wouldn’t have him on the kennel floor. I had to trust that he’d be okay. “What should we name him?”

Tom paused before rattling off a list of what had to be some of the worst dog names I’d ever heard. It was hard not to die laughing as the names ranged from foods, our friends dogs’ names’, our friend’s names and other random people names. When he said ‘Bobby’ however the puppy cocked his head. When Tom repeated the name, the dog’s tail wagged just a little faster.

“I guess he like’s ‘Bobby’.”

~~~~~

The rest of the day was spent at home spending some quality time together doing some good old fashioned online shopping. Bobby would need kibble, dishes, beds, a crate and toys. So many toys and treat. He may have had a rough start to his little furry life but Bobby Hiddleston was going to live like a four legged king…

Just as soon as I convinced Tom to let the dog sleep on the bed with us, that is.

~~~~~

Tag list: @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @winterisakiller, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @michelegurl, @wegingerangelica, 

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Canoe Duty

Sam Winchester x Reader

A/N: commssion for @girl-next-door-writes

Summary: The summer camp you work at as two new counsleros. 

The summer heat bore on Sam’s biceps that peeked from the edge of the Kelly green ‘Camp Rogers’ shirt he was wearing; it was another undercover hunt and judging by the glee on Dean’s face, who was busy flipping burgers on a large grill for the campers, he was having a ball. Sam smiled and looked down at the clipboard he was given by the camp director. It was day two of the hunt, a ghost had taken up a haunting gig in the woods near the camp, and the owner of the camp knew Bobby. He called the brothers to help after a few campers had been attacked, and now Sam was finding himself in canoe clean up – apparently a camper had gotten a little seasick and threw up the morning oatmeal all over it.

Sam gave Dean a quick wave and sighed, walking over to where the edge of the lake started. It was nearly evening, and he hoped the remainder of the day would come to a closing, he wanted to search around in the backwoods for the bones of the ghost. He had done some local research and heard a legend about a camp counselor who had disappeared on the grounds, a body was never found. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Sam strolled over to the canoes that were tied to two wooden pillars and took in the view of the lake. It was not a bad job, if you considered the view, and for a moment, Sam did not feel bad – that was, until he smelled spoiled oatmeal. 

“Mark told me you forgot the bucket and rags, there water hose near cabin three will reach.” Sam blinked and slowly turned to you, standing in black shorts and a matching shirt like his. You smiled and held up the bucket, walking closer to him. “I heard you were one of the new guys.”

“I’m Sam,” he said, offering a kind smile as he took the bucket from you. He laughed when you tossed the bag of rags, thanking you. “I guess newbies get the vomit duties.”

“My first summer here I was put in charge of cabin three, all the kids in there had a stomach flu from bad hot dogs,” you grinned and nodded to the canoe. “So that does not seem that bad.”

Scratching the back of his head, he agreed and asked your name. You apologized for being rude and properly introduce yourself. “The kids call me Ruthie, cause’ I’m ruthless when it comes to water squirt guns, but my actual name is Y/N.”

Sam smiled and held out his hand, skin warm against yours as he shook it gentle. He was cute, that much was true as you offered to help with the hose. He thanked you again and the two of you started working on the boat, but not before you declared the vomit and you would not come in contact.

“I am not over cabin three, it was a lot of vomit.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam laughed. You filled the bucket with water and stood aside watching as he flushed out the mess with the water and a rag. Every so often, you would refill the bucket and let a finger slip to splash a little water on Sam. 

“My bad,” you claimed innocently, grinning ear to ear. He smiled back and the two of you managed to get the canoe clean just in time as the lunch bell rang. You walked side by side, chit chatting about the camp, to which Sam made it a point to ask about the mysterious disappearance of the camp counselor last summer.

“Oh, that legend? A couple of weeks ago a few kids claimed a ghost attacked them out in the woods.”

“Do you believe them?’

Several kids ran by, eager to eat and one nearly knocked you over. Sam jerked a hand in your direction and grabbed the edge of your shoulder as you hollered for them to slow their roll.  Sighing, you gained back your balance and shrugged. 

“I mean, they were out past curfew and kids have big imaginations,” you noted but Sam sensed the hint of doubt in your voice and cleared his throat, asking if you had heard anything about the location of where the haunting. “Why,” you laughed. “You want to go ghost hunting?”

Sam shrugged; the corner of his lips twitched into a small smile. “I am a firm believer in seeing things with my own eyes.”

Your eyes twinkled as the other new guy called for Sam – adventuring and ghost hunting seemed ridiculously fun. “I can swing with that. Tonight?’

“To – tonight?” Sam’s face fell and you laughed, asking if he was scared. “No, no. I just…are you sure you want to go? You can use give me directions to the spot.”

“I might have an aversion to vomit, but dark woods and ghost? That really does not phase me, so tonight. Or are you scared, Vomit boy?”

….

“You said she could come with us? Are you out of your freakin’ mind, Sam?’

“Relax, Dean. Ruthie knows the spot; we’ll have her show us the location and I’ll make up an excuse to get her back to camp.”

“Her name is Ruthie?” Dean grinned and nudged his brother, who rolled his eyes and explained that it was a nickname.  “I like a woman who can be ruthless.”

Ignoring his brother’s comment, Sam told him to be quiet as the two approached the female counselor’s cabin. Taking out his cell, he texted you that he was outside; unable to help but smile when you replied swiftly. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but the front door opened. You emerged in the same shorts from earlier but with a dark green windbreaker covering the camp shirt. Sam stood straight as you walked down the porch steps and smiled at the two men. Your eyes went from one to the other until you proclaimed a resemblance, which Dean said Sam wished.

“I like you, you’re funny,” you said to Dean, tossing him a flashlight. He grinned when you held the light to your face and looked at Sam. “So, you ready to get scared?”

The three of you walked into the woods, each Winchester flanking your side. Sam was taller than you and stayed close, while Dean asked questions about the legend of the camp counselor. You confessed the little obsession you had, and Sam teased you about being a ghost fanatic. Laughing, you admitted that you knew the victim and that it was hard to let go.

“Her name was Briana Chambers, was only 19. Poor kid, it was her first time at the camp. She did all the crafts activities.”

“Wait, I went to the library and found nothing on what happened here. I heard a body was never found.” Sam said, watching Dean as he drew closer to a tree. He touched the bark as if he was investigating something but shook his head to Sam and said he’d walk ahead. Your eyes followed Dean for a few steps until your attention went back to Sam.

“Just a rumor. That all happened last summer, people tend to want to forget fast. The paper didn’t cover it, her dad owns it. There isn’t any records, just memories.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, asking if Briana and you were close. 

“She came through halfway through the summer, we had a counselor leave early due to her grandmother passing. Briana was brought in and we talked a few times…” Your voice trailed off, feet stopping as Dean called out to Sam. He turned to you and smiled, hands on your shoulder – he told you to stay put but you didn’t understand as he dropped the backpack he was carrying, which you assumed had waters and snacks. He kneeled to the ground and pulled out a container of salt, holding it out to you.

“Make a circle with the salt, stay in the circle.”

Your mouth curled up in a laugh, but nothing came out as you took the salt and heard Dean yelling for Sam. “I don’t – I don’t understand. Are you guys fucking with me?”

He stood up and shook his head. “I wish I was. Ghosts are real, and if what you said was true, Briana is haunting the woods. She was the one that attacked those campers.”

Fear rose from your chest, wanting to run but Sam calmly repeated his words and as he rushed off to help Dean, you started to make a circle with the salt. The two men were a few yards away, your heart racing when you saw that Dean had a gun. You wanted to yell and run, but before any of that could be done, you saw her. 

Briana Chambers.

She appeared in front of you, face hallowed and tears in her eyes. You said her name, but it only made her angry– her eyes twitched, and she attempted to reach a hand to you, but the salt prevented her from going a step further. 

“Get away from her,” Sam yelled as he swung a small tire iron bar through Briana. She screamed but disappeared. Your eyes, wide and alert, stared over to Sam and he sighed, asking if you were okay.

“Define your definition of okay -mine is not getting eaten by the ghost of a girl whose craft specialty was best friend bracelets.”

“I know, it’s a lot to understand.” Sam grabbed a hold of your shoulders, his fingers giving you a squeeze. “I just, we need to know where her body is, do you have any idea?’

You face fell. “There isn’t one, Briana was cremated.” 

…..

It was Briana’s old camp shirt, the one displayed in the welcoming cabin as a memorial. A few counselors thought it would be nice, especially since no one in town really talked about her. You remembered it then, when Sam told you that ghosts usually attached their spirits to something sentimental in their life, if the body had already been burned. You volunteered to retrieve it, Sam protested but Dean urged you to go, tossing you a lighter and a flask of alcohol from his jacket. You could see the apprehension in Sam’s eyes when you stepped out of the circle of salt, but he nodded for you to go. So, you did. 

You ran faster than your legs could handle and got to the cabin in no time, unlocking the door and grabbing the shirt from the display.  Outside, you threw the shirt on the ground and opened the flask, pouring what smelled like whiskey all over it – then you turned on the lighter and burned the shirt. You watched as it started to incinerate and when it was nothing but ashes, you raced back through the woods to Sam. Your feet pounded against the dirt until your body crashed into his and he held you tight as you cried. Dean looked on with sympathy and gave his brother a small smile when they locked eyes – Sam didn’t smile back but held you tighter as you clung to his shirt. 

The woods were calm as the three of you walked back to camp after you were able to calm down, your feet dragging each step of the way; you were drained and had a million questions to ask – so you did. Dean did little to entertain the questions, except for a few jokes here and there, it was Sam who answered everything with a straightforward explanation sprinkled with a promise that there were people who took care of all the things that went bump in the night.

“So, you two are brothers who hunt the supernatural?”

“Been doing it most of our lives,” Sam explained, his face relaxed. He had a little cut on his forehead, and you told him you could fix it up once you got to camp. He thanked you and said he was sorry about Briana. “I know she was someone you knew; it’s hard seeing them like that.”

“My mind is still processing it all, but I’m sorry that you two can’t live normal lives.”

“Don’t feel sorry for us, sweetheart,” Dean said, nudging you playfully. “We get to travel the country and save people, it’s not so bad.”

You nodded but didn’t say anything – the last two hours opened a wide door in the world that you never knew existed. Ghosts, demons, monsters – they all existed, and these two brothers killed them for a living. Getting a look at Sam from the corner of your eye, you wondered if he ever wanted something more in life or maybe he really did enjoy it – they were kind of like heroes. 

“I’m going to get the car, Sam let Ruthless here patch you and then we can head home.”

You laughed at Dean’s butchering of the nickname the kids gave you and asked Sam to wait on the steps. He did and you went inside your cabin to get a first aid kit, relieved to find him still waiting when you came out. You sat next to him and started to clean him up, lips dry as you tried to focus on the task and not the fact that Sam’s face was inches to yours. He was attractive, that much was true but there was something there and that was more intriguing than a good-looking face.

“I’ll be sorry to see Vomit Boy go.”

Sam chuckled. “I won’t miss that name, but I’d like to keep in touch.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, finishing up with his cut. “I’d like that.”

Then it was like the movies, it felt cliché but your eyes closed when Sam leaned his head in but before he could kiss you, a horn was heard from across the way; it was Dean and it was time for Sam to go. Laughing, you opened your eyes and kissed him on the cheek. 

“I expect late night emails about all the adventures you and your brother go on.”

Sam looked into your eyes and sighed, reaching for your hand to give it a warm squeeze. This time there was no honking to interrupt, so he kissed you. His lips were soft and gentle, but you could feel it in the way his jaw locked that he could be a little rough and that intrigued you. “I look forward to it.”

He said goodbye then, on the steps of the porch and when he disappeared around the corner of cabin three, you went inside and slept. 

…

You overslept and for some reason, Allison, your cabin mate, didn’t wake you up. Tossing off the blankets, you hurried around the room. Grabbing a towel and a change of clothes, you went to take a quick shower and rushed out just in time to hear the breakfast bell ring. The morning sun was shining in your eyes as you flew down the steps and ran over to the main cabin to get your assignment for the day. 

“Sorry, guys,” you apologized as you barged in, barely glancing at your fellow counselors explaining that you had overslept. Walking over to the white board that had everyone’s jobs for the day written on it, you looked for your name and saw you had canoe duty. Relieved, you realized that was why Allison hadn’t woken you up, canoeing didn’t start until after breakfast. 

“We have canoe duty together.”

A familiar voice came from somewhere behind you and when you turned, your heart leaped up to space; it was Sam, wearing a camp shirt and shorts. He smiled wide and held up the cup of coffee he was drinking. You glanced around the room and saw that it was just the two of you.

“What are you doing here? Where’s a Dean?”

Sam shrugged and walked over to you. “Our friend Cas needed some help in Concord, Dean said he could handle it and figured I could use a little vacation.”

“I take it hunters don’t get many of those.”

“They don’t,” he said, smiling when you moved closer to him. He towered over you and the smell of coffee swirled up into your nose. 

“Well,” you chimed, taking the cup from his hand. “We better make it count.”

[yourhero404]

AU Love triangle with FatGum, Hawks, and reader? I CANT PICK BETWEEN THE TWO

A/N: oh goodness, I see what you mean nonnie *nervous sweating* 

FATGUM x READER x HAWKS

“(Y/n)!” two voices intermingled on either side of them. They sounded distant; they must have been down the street.  

A look to the left revealed an old friend—tall and loud as per usual, excitedly munching some sort of snack as he made his way towards them in that unmistakable orange outfit. A glance to the right revealed a newer friend, making remarkable speed towards them with almost a blur of red wings, the details of his face were hard to determine, but it wasn’t as though they needed to be a rocket scientist to figure it out.  

Almost simultaneously, the two met at a point at remarkable speed.

That point just so happened to be (Y/n) themselves.

“Oof!” they groaned at the impact of the two of them, squished between the two men before fighting them off to take a large breath, “You could’ve killed me!”

“I would’ve protected ya!” Fatgum smiled, now looking towards the other male, “Oh, you’re that newer hero, right?”

“Hawks!” he threw his hand up in a greeting before wrapping an arm around (Y/n)’s shoulders and lounging against them, “(Y/n), you didn’t tell me you had it good with the older pros!”

“Watchit boy,” Fatgum frowned, his expression turning grim at the laugh that bubbled from (Y/n), “I’m surprised a hot shot like you has time to fool around with dear, sweet (Y/n).” His hand wrapped around their arm lovingly, but the subtle pull towards him said otherwise.

“Fool around? Who’s fooling around?” Hawks shot him a dazzling grin before reaching for (Y/n)’s other arm, slightly pulling them back towards him, “I’ve come to ask them very seriously out to dinner—no fooling around here.”

“Well dinner’s my specialty,” Fatgum returned the other man’s smile, now pulling (Y/n) towards him with a bit more force, “Why don’t I join you?”

“No no,” Hawks’ eye twitched momentarily as he tugged at (Y/n) once again, “I’m sure you’re beyond busy, being a seasoned hero and all—we wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I insist.”

“No, I insist.”

“Boys!” (Y/n) shouted, snapping them out of their blind rivalry. They stood in the middle of them, arms straight out at their sides, their appearance disheveled from the men’s hasty game of tug-o-war with their body.

They huffed, snatching their arms back from their grips and straightening out their clothing. The two men stood next to each other with apologetic looks paired with two sets of puppy dog eyes begging for forgiveness as they spoke again.

“What has gotten into you two! Children!” they cried, moving to give each of them a knock on the head, “I’m not some toy to fight over like siblings!”

“Sorry, (Y/n)…" they both mumbled, giving the other a sharp glare that held unspoken words.

“If you’ll excuse me,” they turned to walk away, “I’ll be heading to dinner now. If the two of you can grow up and behave, you both can join me.”

Angry and confused, yet too tired to argue and decipher why the two acted the way they had, (Y/n) moved down the sidewalk, listening to the hurried steps, hushed insults, and muffled sounds of shoving behind them. A sigh escaped them, was this going to happen each time they bumped into each other?

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 1.0

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,435

AN: Like all of my works, there will be OCs working opposite of the boys. In this story, we have three. Next in the Fragmentation series is Elain. She is slated to be The One in the series. This is her tale on how she was found by one of the crew members of The Amaterasu. On to Hitomi’s origin story for Defragmentation! All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432​, @shrimpmsg​

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Elain proceeded to clean up a few of the glasses that were left over in the sink. She saw Sam wiping the back of his hands on his apron before he reached over to grab another dish towel. Elain smiled, held her hand out to stop him and the grin only got bigger as she saw the inquisitive look on his face. He was, to say the least, slightly confused. Closing time always was the slowest and most boring part of a bartender's job description.

"Don't you need me to help you out?"

The woman smiled softly, tossing some of her dark blonde curls out of her face as she leaned forward to finish pulling out a few more wet glasses from out the sink to dry them. "I've got this. You just go on back to the house. You've been here since noon."

Sam was about to protest. He hated seeing Elain doing all the hard work and she knew that. At least he had a place to go home to in the evenings. With company, a warm meal, and a reasonable house of interesting people. But Elain...she only had that apartment with that crazy little border collie of hers. She claimed that she was fine and that the random visits to Sam’s home with his boisterous housemates made up for that, but in all honesty, Sam just thought she needed someone else in her life. A person who could relate to her pain and give her a shoulder to lean on...just as she could give her shoulder to them.

Shrugging out of his apron, he folded it up neatly and placed it in one of the bottom cabinets. "Alright. Well, if you need me to come back, just call me."

Elain nodded, shooing the man out the backdoor so she could close up. After she dried up the remaining glasses, she pulled her own apron off. Looking up at the VIP box office where her managers worked, Elain sighed. Word on the grapevine was that her bosses were affiliated with the mob. Though she couldn't say just how high up the food chain these two men were, she could almost guarantee that they were of high rank and standing within the mafia. 

Which, in turn, made them her enemies.

But she couldn't bring herself to be angry with them. After all, from what she could tell, they were involved because they had no other choice. As if it were a sort of livelihood for them. Kyle was an honest, diligent worker. The first to come in to work and the last to leave. Marcus came in and out every once in a while, but for the most part, a good hefty portion of the management job fell onto the younger brother’s shoulders. And, like tonight, only Kyle was working his crazy hours inside that office of his.

Pulling out two glasses, Elain poured a shot and a half's worth of bourbon in each one - adding two ice cubes to lightly dilute the liquid. If she knew anything, Kyle would definitely need an after work drink to relax and calm his nerves. She popped her neck some, massaging the shoulders here and there, before making her way out from behind the counter and sidling into the nearest stool. She picked up the cool glass and touched it to her lips, allowing the liquid to slowly slide down her throat. It was a welcome burn. After tracing her fingertips along the edge of the glass, she started lightly humming a song to herself as her hair, once again, fell into her piercing gray-blue eyes.

Dad...

Elain enjoyed the taste of the liquor sliding down her throat. As she heard the door to the office upstairs closing with a light click, she paused just as the glass was leaving her lips and she looked up with her dark slate eyes to see Kyle locking up the office. Smiling, she set the glass down on the coaster in front of her, looking back at the glass and fingering the edges once more with the tips of her digits. Mentally she smiled bigger than what her outer appearance allowed her to. 

After all, she wasn't one for giving away her inner most thoughts. Her specialty was people watching, after all.

The way Kyle shrugged his shoulders as he was locking up gave an air of resistance. Like he was shrinking back from some unknown force around him. It permeated a reclusive air that Elain just wasn't sure she was equal to. Her dog was company enough for her and she definitely didn't shrink back from Janice. The poor border collie would have been so offended. But it indicated just how tight of a hold Kyle had on himself - keeping others at arm's distances, if not further. 

He descended the stairwell.

As he reached the bottom, there was a slight hesitation in his steps. She could hear it - feel it - the breath between them so tense it could have been sliced with a knife or cut with fabric shears. Though the pause was but a half a second, Elain could sense the doubt. Would he approach? Should he approach? These were all things that Kyle was probably thinking. Beyond the occasional greeting, the two of them never really conversed all that much. He'd hired her because he was the manager - her boss - and she'd met the credentials needed to do the job. That was all that really mattered, right? Credentials?

He slid into the bar stool next to her and she turned her head on cue, flashing him a smile that was both soft and welcome as he picked up the glass of bourbon. "Thanks." 

His hum of approval was a welcoming sound and Elain felt her teeth show. Well, she certainly knew that she was the barkeep for a reason. When he turned to smile at her, Elain couldn't help but wonder if the smile was genuine or if it was a well-rehearsed gesture that Kyle practiced for a while. 

"Shouldn't you be home by now? It's not good to work so much," he teased, causing her to quip a brow as she lifted her glass to her lips.

"Nah," she said, shaking her head and closing her eyes as she waved one hand gently to the side before taking a whiff of the bourbon with satisfaction. "There's this sayin' back where I grew up. In a club, it's always the guy servin' the drinks and the guy cuttin' the checks that are the first to come in to work and the last to leave." Elain turned to look at him, eyes half-lidded in their sultry fashion as her smile broadened before winking cutely at him. "Guess that means us, hm?" 

Kyle’s smile went from polite to almost devious. “I suppose it does.”

Laughing lightly, she ran a hand through her thick raven locks while turning to look at him, her bangles jangling like little bells by her ear as she moved to rest her elbow on the counter top. "So tell me, Boss Man. Why's it feel like you're locked away up there in your office like some mad scientist instead of coming down here and chatting with me during a break?" She gently clinked her glass against his as he held it up halfway from his face. "For a minute there, I thought it was because you didn't like me." 

Her smile widened and she laughed lightly once more, tossing some of her raven hair from her shoulders as her other hand rested on her bare torso. This outfit was indeed quite strange, but she didn't mind. Elain knew it suited the work atmosphere and it was necessary for her to "blend in" because the customer should always be the focus of her attention. 

Boss or not, she was currently her customer.

"I would love to come down for a drink every now and then, but I don’t really take breaks with as much work as I do. What's the saying? 'There's no rest for the wicked'? Or, in my case, no rest for the 'Boss Man' as you put it." Kyle gave a little chuckle of his own before it died off to a simple, amused smirk on his lips.

“Not much of a crowd person.” Elain said it like it was a statement versus a question. She waited for him to confirm or deny it, but when he said nothing, she simply shrugged one shoulder and set her glass down on the coaster in front of her. “I can understand that.”

He quirked a brow at her. “You do?”

She nodded, her brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, sure, we work in the bar and club business, but we keep ourselves isolated from it all.” She pointed toward his private office. “You have your office and I have my bar,” she continued, smoothing her hand over the counter, “there’s always a line that we divide between us and the rest of the world.”

In a way, it was almost like they were born isolated from what they knew to be the world around them. It felt natural, yet it felt wrong all in the same instance. Elain could never fully gauge why she felt that way, but only that she did.

Kyle looked at her for a long time; longer than what she was used to or even comfortable with. There were a variety of reasons why people stared at her and it was usually because of her appearance. She was a light-skinned, Creole woman with dark blonde curls and piercing grayish-blue eyes. People often thought she wore contacts, but it was just her genetics. 

Half English, half Haitian.

He sighed, his eyes shifting to look back at his glass. “And some of us are higher on the food chain than everyone else.”

Elain blinked, confused by his words. “What do you mean, Kyle?”

Suddenly, the door to the club opened. Elain stood up on reflex, her eyes scanning the doorway. A young man of Asian descent with black and orange hair entered. He had a pair of sunglasses on, which was strange for that time of night. He wore a white leather jacket with a black rocker t-shirt underneath stuffed into his black denim jeans with the knees torn open. 

“Um, excuse me,” Elain called out to him.

The heels of the man’s combat boots clicked against the tile floor as he scanned the club, his head stopping as he faced in their direction. 

She frowned. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the night.”

“It’s you.” His voice was soft but full of authority. It caused her brows to furrow in confusion as she heard Kyle shifting from his chair next to her. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”

“What are you talking about?” 

It was all she could manage to get out before the man was reaching behind him. Within seconds, he was pulling out a gun, the barrel trained at her boss. Elain gasped sharply, her hands shooting up in a show of surrender. 

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” she demanded. 

The man said nothing. Instead, he squeezed the trigger and fired off a shot - the bullet zipping out to plunge itself into Kyle’s forehead. A spray of blood splattered across Elain’s arm as she let out an ear splitting shriek - her eyes growing wide while her boss’s body hit the ground with a hard thud. Tears filled her eyes as she fell to her knees, her hands shakily reaching out to touch him. The sound of rushed footsteps seemed to vibrate inside of her ears, muffling all the noise around her. 

As she stared at Kyle’s body, she watched it jerk slightly, as though he were being electrocuted, and then fizzled into a different form. The man lying beside her was no longer the kind and quiet Kyle, but a man whom she didn’t recognize - his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses and a security earpiece in his ear. Even his suit, casual and comfortable, was replaced with a stuffy one that someone from a high profile security detail would wear. 

“W-What’s going on?” Elain barely managed to croak out. 

Just then, she felt her arm being grabbed roughly and she craned her neck to see that it was the man who’d killed her boss. Or, at least, the man she’d thought was her boss. She tried to pull herself free, but he only tightened his hold on her.

“Let me go!”

“We don’t have time for this,” he snapped, all but yanking her up to her feet, “we need to leave this place. Now.”

The doors to the club suddenly burst open, a torrent of gunshots and bullets spraying in varying directions. Elain screamed, covering her ears as the stranger immediately slammed his chest into her back. They crashed to the floor and a sharp pain hit her elbows as they collided with the ground. The bar counter served as a momentary shield, the sound of glass breaking as powerful as the smell of alcohol as they leaked from their containers. There was a distinct sound of something being shifted and Elain felt her arm being gripped once more. When she looked back, she saw the stranger pulling out a zippo lighter from his pocket. 

Before she could ask him what he was about to do, he shifted his gaze to meet hers. His sunglasses came off during their fall. There was a sharp intake of breath from Elain as she looked into his eyes.

They were the same slate blue as her own.

The man threw the lighter over the counter and Elain could smell the alcohol catching fire. Taking a moment to utilize the confusion, he grabbed for her arm and hauled her up onto her feet. There wasn’t even enough time for him to yell at her to run. She just let her legs instinctively take control. Gunshots rang out through the club as they both bee-lined for the rear entrance to the club. 

Sweat ran down Elain’s spine as her feet ate up the ground, the stranger hot on her heels. Sliding on the wet concrete, her shoulder slammed into the brick wall of the alley. Grunting, she tried to urge her legs to keep going but the adrenaline was starting to drain out from her. As if he’d sensed it, the man grabbed her hand and all but dragged her behind him. 

They reached the end of the alley, his arm shooting out to stop her from stepping out onto the side street. Elain’s heart drummed heavily against her chest, the beating reaching her ears and muffling all other sounds from her senses. There was a point where she thought the world was blurring in and out of focus around her, but she couldn’t be sure. Were those men still chasing them? Was she actually standing there and not running anymore?

The sound of tires screeching to a halt was the last thing Elain heard before everything motion blurred around her - fading into darkness.

“Somebody better start talking,” Elain snarled, her back pressed to the wall of what looked like an abandoned building, “I want answers!”

Another Asian man, different from the one who’d snatched her from the club, stood in an opposite corner of the room. He cradled what looked like a sniper rifle in his hands, the barrel of the gun resting along his left shoulder and across his body. He scoffed, a derisive smirk spreading over his lips. 

“She’s feisty,” he said, craning his neck to look at the man who brought her there, “I like her already.”

“Keep it in your pants, Ares,” snapped a woman with blonde hair stuffed into a ball cap, “business first. You can get laid later.”

The man, Ares, snorted before leveling his gaze back to Elain. She frowned at him, his arrogant smirk refusing to fall. For good measure, she threw the bird at him. Instead of responding in offense, Ares laughed and shook his head. It caused Elain to blink and further pressed herself along the wall.

Unable to shake the trepidation from her body, she clutched and wrung her hands together. The person who brought her to that unknown place approached her. When he was less than three feet away from her, Elain shifted again even though she knew she had nowhere to go.

“You can relax. You’re safe and among friends.” He tried to sound reassuring and she had to admit that his soft voice was, in a sense, calming.

“Speak for yourself.” The woman cut her green eyes to Elain. “We’re not even sure she’s going to relent.”

“She will, Crow.” Ares’s smirk widened. “She’s too curious not to.”

“Quiet. Both of you.” The man never took his eyes off of her, forcing Elain to focus on only him for the moment. “They call me Cobra. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

Elain’s lips parted, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-You’re--?”

“The one who successfully hacked the government’s Central Intelligence systems? You would be right.” Cobra smiled, the gentleness meeting his eyes. “I had some help, of course, but it was mostly my work.”

“Don’t let Frost or Miles hear you. They’ll never let you hear the end of it.” The woman, Crow, called out to them but Cobra didn’t acknowledge her physically. He kept his eyes locked on Elain.

Those names were like little firecrackers going off in the back of her brain. She’d heard of them while she was tooling around on the net. But it was the question that always lingered in her mind. The question that she longed to obtain the answers.

“What is The Matrix?”

Elain couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving her lips even if she’d wanted to. How could he have known that was the question she was wanting to know the answer to? He smiled, canting his head slightly as he looked at her.

“I know that look. It’s the same look I had on my face once.” 

He reached out to grab one of her hands and she didn’t try to resist. Turning her hand over, he placed something inside her palm. When she looked back at her hand, there were two gelatin capsules in her hand. One red, the other blue. Her brows furrowed and she looked back to Cobra, his face calm and reassuring.

“Hitomi,” he said, causing tears to form in her eyes, “you have a choice to make right now. Even though I already know what choice you’re going to make, I still want to give you the option to bail out.” He pointed to her hand. “The red pill will lead you down the path that will answer all of your questions. But it will also give birth to more questions, some of which you may never find the answers for. The blue pill will make you forget everything prior to the moment I walked into your life. You won’t even have the questions inside of you anymore.” 

Crow approached Cobra, handing him a glass of water. He held it out to Elain, to which she absentmindedly took it.

He knew so much and she seemed to know so little. Would she really be okay never knowing the truth? Would she be okay returning to a life of blissful ignorance?

Elain dropped the blue pill onto the ground, tossing the red pill into her mouth and draining the glass of water. Within seconds, both Crow and Ares were moving around her. They were pushing her onto a nearby couch and panic snaked up her throat as she was forced to lay down. Pressing a variety of sticky pads to her skin and temples, she noticed the monitoring devices and felt her panic growing. Cobra pressed his palm along her forehead, feeling his cool palm easing the inflamed feeling flushing out across her skin. 

For a moment, she forgot about her fears and all the movement going on around her. The onset of hysteria was briefly beaten back by Cobra’s almost serene expression. Her eyelids grew a little heavy as he stroked his thumb along the space between her eyebrows.

“I’ll see you soon, Hitomi…”

Hitomi nodded, her eyes lifting to stare mindlessly at the ceiling. She took a deep breath, blinked twice, and watched the world dissolve into darkness - the space replaced with lines of green code. She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

And then it all went dark again.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[teawitch-craft]

Familiars: the absolute basics

Who, what, when, where???,,,,,,, and the dreaded how,,,,,,,

The who: Familiars are living things, they can be both of the physical realm or of the psychic manifested realms. For example some familiars can be pets such as cats, dogs, and fish (?? Just an example.) And those physical familiars are often called “fetches” because they serve a different purpose than non-physical familiars (physical often partake in rituals and helping in person while non physical can go almost anywhere and have certain specialties) . Non-physical familiars can be any amount of things. While they are often normal animals (dogs, cats, birds, fish) there can also be strange familiars that are absolutely bonkers. Also certain familiars can be both “fetches” and non-physical, these are extremely useful as they can do everything at once, usually splitting their time between their body and their projections. Familiars also have names before they come to you unlike (most) regular pets. And names have power! For example, one of my friends knows the name of my familiar and if he had harmful intent he could hurt or do worse to my bird.

Example: My bird. I've had this familiar for over two years at this point. Familiars get stronger as your bond grows, so time is basically power. (I got him a really cool two year anniversary gift hehe).

The what: Familiars are basically a manifestation of energy, just like most things. Most familiars are a sort of version of you, who you want to be or how you see yourself, not ACTUALLY you obviously, but someone you can relate to. So sometimes as you grow, your familiar will either grow with you or you will grow apart slowly. Example: My first familiar was a dark shadowy horse. He was an angry boy, which was how I felt on the inside. Constantly wanting to destroy and conquer. Yet as I grew as a person, I discovered that I wasn't actually a destructive person, but my horse definitely was, and he was unhappy so I let him go.

Also- Using a familiar is like using your own energy, but with the caveat that it is someone elses energy that you are either, asking to use, or telling them to use in a certain way. So having a bond with this person is important as they have to give a shit about you to care about what you want them to do. Spending time with your familiar is a great way to create a bond. Similarly you have to feed your familiar, as soon as you summon your familiar they are reliant on you for their health, just like a normal pet. Feeding a familiar is semi-simple, as you just have to put your energy in your hands and tell them to eat (or tell them to just take whenever they're hungry). The stronger the familiar the more energy they take, and the less you have for other things. Most people cannot handle more than three familiars.

Another thing in another paragraph as it deserves it's own, binding a familiar and contracts. Binding a familiar is extremely important as they need somewhere to rest where they can be out of danger and close to you, and it also gives them a manifestation point for important things. Contract wise: it is important to have set boundaries with your familiar. Usually a familiar will not try to harm you on purpose, but if they need energy and you have none to give it can hurt. Usually my contracts look like this: 1. You must always come when I call. 2. You may not hurt me or my friends without my order or intent. 3. You may take energy if I have some to spare, but you must always ask before taking. 4. I will respect you and not force you to do things you don't want to do. 5. I will take care of you and keep you out of harms way. So that is the absolute minimum bare bones contract I have on anyone.

The when: When to summon a familiar is an extremely personal process. No one can tell you when to do this. Sometimes a familiar calls to you, and sometimes you just want to discover a new friend. If you are having trouble talking to your new friend fear not!! You could be too stressed or they could just be busy (they have lives too!), so just try again later. Personally just time wise I prefer to talk to my familiar later at night when there's no one around and it's quiet. I also put on wind chimes as that's what I've always done to focus better.

The where: It is preferable to start summoning in a personal space. It lets your familiars see who you are and lets them determine if they want to come to you. So summoning in a place you feel stressed is absolutely not the best place for summoning.

The how: Start by focusing your energy on the object you want to bind your familiar to. Use your energy to call on any familiar that is willing to join you, specifically asking for spirits that are helpful and willing to help you in your craft. Having candles going and or being in a bath can help you concentrate. Slowly begin to ask more seriously for things to come to you, and show your intent on how you would like to use your familiar, sending that out into the world. A voice or shape may start to come to you, if that happens then stop calling to everything generally and rather start calling that specific thing to you. Familiars communicate psychically and through touch sometimes so you may start to hear things and feel things. Don't be worried or scared!! Once you call your familiar to you enough so that it is on the object you wish to bind it to, start to talk. Start by saying why you want that familiar and what you would ask of them. Some familiars may leave at this point if they do not feel like you are the best fit, or if they do not feel like you will be able to contain and manage them. However if they stay with you then you can start to talk to them about the contract I mentioned earlier. They personally may also have demands and usually these can be agreed to fine unless they involve you getting hurt. It is also semi-important to put in the contract that it can be changed if both you and your familiar agree to it. To finalize a bonding I usually just do it on command, so it is difficult for me to describe this, but it can be helpful to close your hands around your binded object and whisper that it is done and the contract is sealed. Do not worry if you don't get any responses from a familiar quickly! Again familiars have their own lives and may be busy, as well as they may feel you need to prove yourself by continuing to attempt summoning even if you fail.

I actually have a completely different right up about uses for familiars as this is pretty basic, so I’ll post that soon!

That's all for now! If I think of anything else then I will add it! Good luck!!