#because Dewey will actually do anything

[aaandbackstabbed]

Webby: I dare you-

Huey: Dewey is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Webby: Why not?

Dewey: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

Louie, *vivid flashbacks*:Fair enough

[dapperrokyuu]

Extremely funny that I cannot imagine even crackshipping Luka with anyone else in the cast besides Hyuna because thats how obsessed he is with her, shfiejfhefjek-

[valentinesparda]

one good thing I will say is that working at the library does Not make me a Librarian but people will see me and go "let's go ask the librarian for help" and it makes me go

[sethcertified]

「 SCREAM FOR YOU ! 」 . . . 📂 EPILOGUE

scream: billy loomis & stu macher

w.c: 2.1k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . Waking up from a coma, the events that followed the Macher house massacre are revealed to you by a familiar face. Except, they’re not how the story actually went…

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . billy loomis, stu macher, & male reader

My name is [Name] Riley.

I am 17 years old.

I am sitting in a hospital bed.

I miss my bed.

My butt hurts.

I miss my home.

...

I miss my sister.

I shook my head as I threw down the pencil onto my lap with a frustrated sigh. My fingers ached from the force I held the pencil with while writing in my newly appointed journal. Mr. Ryder, the psychiatrist that had been appointed to me, had given me the journal to document my mental state since the massacre at the Macher party as I way to make sure I was doing okay, yet it felt more like torture than a way to check up on how I was feeling mentally.

The only relief it gave me was a false sense of company. I hadn't spoken to anyone since I had been put into this room except the nurses that came and went, my doctor, and my psychiatrist. I ignored the outside world's efforts to get me to face the people I had betrayed despite the knocks on my door and the letters slipped into my room. It was lonely, no doubt, but I was too much of a coward to face the reality of what I had done.

What they had done.

The blood on their hands. The blood on mine. It stained. Stained my mind with guilt of what I had done; the path I had chosen. 10 people had died that night, and I could've prevented all 10 of them if I hadn't been so caught up in my own feelings.

In the end, I prevented one. One death. Yet the guilt didn't diminish in the slightest. The blood didn't wash away. Everything remained the same. Everyone remained dead. Except me.

I had hoped I would die that night whether it was on the floor or on that stretcher, but fate had refused to show me pity. Fate decided I needed to be punished for what I had done by keeping me alive. But that wasn't punishment enough; fate felt the need to punish me even more. Fate had kept them alive as well.

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were alive and all because of me. I had saved them from death that night but sacrificed some of the people I loved the most. It was a fair price to pay for my actions, but I didn't realize that the transaction would actually happen. That they would actually be dead. Even as I thought that, my brain couldn't process the fact that they were dead. That they were all dead.

Tatum was dead.

Dewey was dead.

Randy was dead.

Gale was dead.

Dead, dead, dead, and more dead.

I coughed awkwardly as I averted my attention away  from the journal and my depressing mindset to the hoard of pity gifts resting around my room. They had been gifted to me from all sorts of people; relatives, friends, even people I had never even talked to. I hadn't bothered reading a single one. They saw me as a hero. A survivor. I couldn't face them knowing that I was anything but those things.

The bright pop of colors of the gifts contrasting against the plain, white walls of my bleak hospital room was distraction enough from my thoughts, but just staring at the huge array of them made my mind reel in guilt. With a sigh, I leaned my head back against the plush pillow, shutting my eyes. Sleep called out my name begging for me to relax into the bed just as it had been It was routine at this point. Ever since I arrived here, sleep was all I seemed to do. After all, it was the only distraction from my horrid thoughts.

As my mind began to turn off, a knock at the door resonated from the far corner of my room, but I payed no mind. Knocks were frequent and expected at this point. As I learned from experience, they usually leave after about a minute or two of knocking, so I expected the same routine to follow. At least until the knocking persisted for minutes on end after the first knock. My brows flexed in annoyance as my patience drew thin. "Can't you give a guy some peace?" I yelled out.

A muffled voice yelled back out to me in response, "[Name]? It's me, Sidney! Please open the door." My eyes shot wide open as I tumbled out of the hospital bed, rushing to open the door. I hadn't heard from Sidney since I instructed her to fake her death many weeks ago. While one of the nurses had told me Sidney visited while I was stuck in my coma when I first barely woke up with a teasing, "Your girlfriend came around. She was so worried! How cute! Yada yada," but refused to tell me anything I actually yearned to know about her visit.

I had been hoping she would come back to see my now that I wasn't unconscious, so to hear her voice from the other side of the door was liberating. Exciting, even. I launched the door open to see to Sidney standing there, "Sid-"

"[Name]."

"You're alive," I gasped with relief. Sidney Prescott was alive. My grand scheme had succeeded. I wrapped my arms around Sid's waist as I pulled her into a hug; her head fell into the crook of my neck, mumbling, "I thought you died."

"I thought you died," I said. Sidney chuckled weakly as she pulled away, yet still keeping her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes shown under the fluorescent light with a hopeful gleam. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused. I had done nothing, in my opinion, that was deserving of a thank you from anyone, Sidney especially. I wasn't aware of how far back her knowledge of what actually went down was, but I didn't think twice about underestimating her. For all I could know, she knew everything that I had done alongside Billy and Stu.

"For saving my life?" Sidney joked but her tone held sincerity underneath the layer of sarcasm. My confused expression slipped away into something morbid as guilt overcame me once more. Although, in truth, I did save Sidney's life; it didn't feel right for her to thank me. I had betrayed her trust, friendship, etc under the guise of my "investigation." I had went behind her back about Cotton Weary, got together with her boyfriend who happened to be the actual criminal behind her mother's brutal murder, killed her father, and helped the same murders with their plan to kill her.

I brushed her hands off my shoulders as I headed back to my bed. How could I face her knowing she thought of me so sincerely? I sat on the edge of my bed with my head resting on my palms. My eyes stared holes into the white tile of the ground. The sound of shoes tapping against the floor made me shut my eyes. Sidney was heading my way without a doubt, and I dreaded every click of her shoe against the time.

The clacking stopped as the spot next to me was occupied by Sidney, "Are you okay?" I nodded weakly as I turned to her. I couldn't let my emotions get in the way; something I learned the hard way. "How are you here, Sid? Doesn't everyone think you're dead? And what about Billy and Stu? If they know you're alive, they'll come after you." My voice was urgent and a tad bit frantic. These were questions I had been asking myself ever since that nurse told me Sidney came by, and I truly did need them answered.

"They really haven't told you anything?" Sidney asked with shock laced in her tone. My brows furrowed as I thought back to the authority figures that had been taking care of me. Was there really something they've been hiding from me that was so important? Is that why the nurse refused to tell me anything about Sid's initial visit? "What do you mean?"

Sidney grasped my hand in hers. Her eyes were scanning my face, making my stomach churn with anxiety. She was looking for something. I didn't know what it was nor if she would find it. Hell, I didn't even know what "it" was. Sid's eyes shone with pity, "Everyone knows I'm alive, [Name]. They know about you saving me too."

"What?!" I asked as my chest began to swell with anxieties. What happened while I was in my coma? What happened to Billy and Stu? I gasped for air as my head raced, "How?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Sidney rested her other hand on the back of my shoulder, trying to keep me steady. "Let me explain." I nodded as I took some breaths. I wasn't going to get anywhere by having a panic attack.

"I did as you said and hid away. I was heading to sneak into the police car when I saw your mom by the garage." My eyes widened at that. My mom had came? But my shock quickly washed away into despair as I remembered she probably saw Tatum's blood staining the garage door. I wasn't sure if Sidney sensed my sadness, but if she did she payed no mind. "She was upset- but she was just asking if you were safe. I told her about your plan, and she took me home with her."

I nodded, eager to hear the rest of what she had to say. Sidney took my nod with a stride as she continued, "We all thought you were dead. Week after week, the doctor would say the same thing, so your mom wanted to ensure you and Dewey and Tatum and everyone else got the justice they deserved. She got this lawyer and was determined to arrest Billy and Stu after I had told her everything that they had done."

My fingers twitched against my leg as I froze. Billy and Stu hadn't visited me once... Was this the reason why? Were they seriously locked away while I was in this coma? But those questions only led to one; one question I couldn't wrap my head around. Why would they keep my innocence intact?

Love? No way.

"Did they?" I asked. Sidney nodded as she wrapped her arms around me. "We don't have to worry about them, anymore. They can't terrorize us nor our families anymore." I smiled as she wiped the leaking tears out of her eyes. It was a fake smile. My mind was elsewhere, and I could not be happy for either of us in the moment.

Sidney sensed that and backed away from me. Her eyes scanned my face before she stood up. "It's a lot to digest, so I'll give you some space. See ya later, [Name]." I waved bye at her as she excited the hospital room, but my happy facade was gone as soon as her presence was out the door.

Billy and Stu were arrested? And I'm now a hero? What? I felt the migraine take over my body as I bit my lip. What had happened? My thought process was interrupting once more as a knock came from the door. I rolled my eyes. "Come in!" I yelled. Yet no one did. My brows furrowed as a small slip of presumed paper slid out from under the door.

I stood up from the bed to observe the small, folded piece of paper. Bending down, I grasped the paper gently before unfolding it. The words on the paper made me freeze and my blood go cold.

I know what you did.

✎ notes . . . So many people were asking for it, so I finished off the epilogue that had just been collecting dust in my drafts 😭 but this does kinda make it OFFICIAL that scream for you isn't over although I gave up on it. It's gonna be awhile before the sequel is out and I'm focused on other projects rn as well as my requests on my tumblr. That being said, I have a discord server! Pls join its very empty rn and there's definitely some of u who I think r rlly cool and would like to know better!

https://discord.gg/f8YBEjzz

Thank you for all the love even tho this book sucks. It's crazy to see how big it has gotten and 500 followers!! I'm gonna shed a tear. Thank you for all the comments, I adore every single one. Thank you for the notes. And thank you for enjoying my work.

©️ sethcertified 2023 10.5

[fairysteve]

Steve spends the first week after graduation trying to find a job and himself. He goes in and out of stores, leaving applications and looking through their shelves.

His parents are home; his dad is just waiting for an opportunity to kick him out or force him into an office job depending on if he's in a good mood or not when Steve inevitably gives up.

Of course, Steve has no plans on proving his dad right by giving up. His parents didn't even have the decency to attend his graduation; they only came home to confirm his college plans, hoping for something to brag about. Steve can't count how many times he's been called a disappointment in the last week.

He comes home with a job at Scoops Ahoy and a tarot deck. His parents leave the same way they came; without telling him.

The second week after graduation is interesting. Steve spends the days working for minimal wage with a coworker that makes fun of him and the evenings trying to learn tarot.

After the first time that he successfully does a reading for himself, he starts remembering the herbal remedies his mum would use when he was young and often got sick. The more he uses the tarot deck, the more he thinks about her herb garden and books, the more aware he is of his failing hearing and vision on the left side.

The latter has more to do with his job than the tarot deck, but it does make him wonder if there's anything he can do with plants. He can't go to the hospital without risking breaking the terms of two NDAs.

So Steve finds the books his mum used and starts reading them, writing down notes for what plants would be good to start growing, for what remedies actually seem helpful. What makes for helpful teas or incense or oils, what makes for good charms to carry around.

He remembers best through repetition so he makes rituals of the most useful things; it also helps getting him to use it. Much like how his self-care routines are rituals in a way.

Steve knows people are starting to whisper about him, knows that it's strange that he's carrying around plants and a tarot deck, that he takes moments out of his day to remember to breathe and recite self affirmations like they were spells. His hair is growing longer and wilder, he tilts his head to see and hear better, he's no longer trying to repress hundreds of small things just to fit in. He's letting himself be strange, letting himself use movement to process his emotions and repeat sounds because it feels good. He stops trying to force words out when there feels like a disconnect between his brain and mouth.

It's a month after graduation when he's taking the trash out at the end of his shift and hears something behind the dumpster. There's a small kitten that seems to be screaming with how loud the meows are.

Steve has never been allowed a pet, but he loves petting Tews when he's over at Dustin's, and it would help him feel less lonely. So he takes the kitten home.

Once he has given the poor thing a bath, the kitten turns out to be completely white, and very skinny. Steve has no idea how old it is, doesn't know what he should feed it, and it's too late to take it to a vet.

He's thinking about possible names as he's going through the fridge for the milk; the only cat names he knows are Mews and Tews. He's trying to think if it has to end with -ews when his eyes land on the slices of honeydew that his mum had left behind.

Steve feels quite proud of himself for naming the cat Honeydew; it follows the one rule for cat names that he knows of, and he can call it Honey for short, which is very cute.

Dustin laughs at him when Steve first tells him about the cat, and takes to calling Honeydew for Dewey, as in the Dewey Decimal System. Steve doesn't bother correcting it; he's pretty sure Honey is deaf. It explains the loud meowing and how the cat never seem to react to noise.

He still wants to be able to communicate with his new cat, and maybe it would be good for him too, so Steve borrows any books on ASL he can find. And he makes sure that Honeydew knows that the sign for Honey is its name.

When Steve does take Honeydew to a vet, he gets it confirmed that the kitten is male, around five weeks old, and completely deaf.

Honey's eyes turn green with time (kittens all have blue eyes the first six weeks).

Steve carries Honey around on his shoulders a lot.

thanks @metalmunch for the name!

[polina-me]

Inspiration has come to me sharply, therefore, here is the relationship of the Duck-McDuck family to "feminine" things and etc.

Della Duck

SHE HATES wearing skirts, dresses and makeup.

She admits that all these things are cute and all that, but the maximum that she will allow herself from the "feminine" is only long hair.

She may be interested in something, but she doesn't see herself in it.

As a child, she was often naughty and changed clothes with Donald, which is why she often got a kick in the ass, especially from the ancestors of the McDucks and grandma Duck, but in the end they resigned themselves.

She is offended that she is primarily seen as a girl, and not a pilot and/or an adventurer.

She likes to admire something feminine, but not in terms of "I want it too"

"Wow, this girl is so beautiful..." "Yeah, I wonder where she got this dress?" “what? Oh, well. Uh."

Donald Duck

As always, Donald is the complete opposite for Della and he LOVES "feminine" things.

As a child, he almost never quarreled with Della, and if she said she wanted to change clothes, then he just shrugged and changed. When McDuck's grandparents and grandmother Duck scolded Della for looking "not like a girl," he never understood why they couldn't change clothes. Grandparents McDuck and Grandma Duck stopped after he asked Hortense why they couldn't change clothes.

In the emo phase, he mastered makeup and learned how to work with hair and even had a wig!

When he got older, he realized that he was a femboy (you can also say crossdresser) and, fearing condemnation and ridicule from the family and especially Scrooge, began a double life with the name Dolores NiPato

Growing up, he began to give up his second life more often in favor of his family, arguing for himself like this: "I am already an adult man, I need to stop"

During the ten-year breakup, he wore a long skirt so that the triplet ducklings could reach out and attract his attention, but when they grew up, he stopped, fearing that he would set a bad example

Huey Duck

It's hard for me to say anything about him. Everyone remembers him as a trans girl, but I do not know my exact opinion about this, so I have two of them:

1. He is indifferent to women's things and does not mind wearing pink according to his mood. He can wear skirts and dresses, but mostly when he realizes that he is actually half-naked and in the mood. He wants to grow his hair out to see how it will look with sideburns. He can learn to wear makeup to help his brothers.

2. Transfem, but tomboy with long hair.

Dewey Duck

Like Donald, he loves women's things very much! But unlike him, the duckling is not afraid to show it, because Donald tried all the time to show him that he is normal, different, but normal

Sometimes he receives jokes from Huey and Louie in the style of "Oh, my lady, you are so beautiful today!", but often does not understand that this is a joke and is sincerely embarrassed and rejoices at the compliments, which makes his brothers feel a little awkward

Some days, she dresses up with Webby in the same clothes because it's cool and thinks it seals their union as brother and sister

He always tries to join the bachelorette party or ask Lena to teach him how to make up (for Lena it's exhausting, so she taught Huey how to make up so that he could teach Dewey)

When he was at school and wearing a skirt, he was bullied, but he could often stand up for himself and/or he was protected by Huey and Louie

When Donald was called to school because of Dewey's "inappropriate appearance", he made such a scandal that the principal was very afraid of him and the duckling sometimes compared Uncle Donald with his mother in his thoughts

He likes to show off his images and outfits in front of Della, even if they are stupid. Della loves them all. "YES! YES, BABY! THIS IS MY BOY! SHOW ME THE EMOTIONS!"

Louie Duck

He mostly doesn't care about clothes, he only wears something comfortable and/or expensive

Sometimes he may wear makeup, but he is mostly lazy

He loves different rings and bracelets, but he has almost no sense of style, so he had to be taught how to wear jewelry correctly

Will destroy your life if you say even one bad word about his femboy brother (and trans sister)

Webby Vanderquack

Just a girl🥰💕

Sincerely does not understand why pink is only for girls

She gets offended and angry when they call her "childish" because of her favorite color

Curse your soul to eternal torment in Hell for your words about Dewey and Holly (name for trans Huey)💀😈

Scrooge McDuck

Just an old man sticking to the old rules

In fact, he doesn't really care whether he wears women's clothes or men's clothes either. But fuck you with a cane if you say that kilt = skirt

Purely out of interest, he may ask about makeup or some feminine things for self-care

He can wear a skirt or a dress, he doesn't care. But he still feels embarrassed in these outfits because of his old considerations.

He doesn't even suspect that he caused Donald's injury💀

[tokuvivor]

Can we just talk about how good this scene in The Spear of Selene! is?

To start, we’ve just got the gradual buildup of Dewey and Webby adventuring around Ithaquack, just to find some sort of answer about Della. It all culminates in this line:

Webby: We’re so close to the truth! Why won’t you let us find it?!

Dewey: Because…what if my mom was a bad person?

And even though she really wants to figure this one out, Webby respects Dewey’s wishes, and decides to drop it for now. But then Dewey has a change of heart, deciding that if they’ve gotten this far, they should see it through to the end.

At which point, an ominous figure jumps out from behind them…

…who turns out to be the Goddess of the Moon herself, Selene!

One thing I will make note of is the fact that Frank and Matt were originally intending Selene to be more serious and regal, but they ultimately reworked her characterization to better fit Nia Vardalos’ voice, which is how we ultimately got the wise, yet laid-back and playful Selene we all know.

Anyway, Selene explains that the whole gauntlet Dewey and Webby just went through was intended for Della, because she knew Della would find it fun.

On the topic of whether Selene would have actually known that Della got stuck on the moon, her moon, I would like to think that yes, she did know. I mean, besides the previous point, she and Della are super close; it just doesn’t seem right to have her not know what happened to Della. As for why she couldn’t do anything about it, well, need I remind you who her father is? But I digress.

So Selene, despite being this all-powerful goddess, doesn’t know what Dewey’s talking about by a “Spear of Selene”, but eventually realizes that he’s “Della’s kid” when Dewey brings up “his mom” taking it.

Even though Dewey’s dismayed that he’s now back to square one, Selene assures him that Della was a good person. The greatest, even. And she made everyone around her better.

She even gives it to Dewey for him to keep.

And she assures Dewey not to give up his search, because Della wouldn’t have, either.

And then we get this sweet bit…

Also, I just love how gentle Selene is with Dewey in this scene. I mean, the boy’s never met his mother, has been looking ceaselessly for answers about her for months, and even though Selene doesn’t have all of them, she tells Dewey what he needs to hear, and even gives him a much-needed hug. She’s not Della, but she gives Dewey that maternal guidance that he really needs right about now.

Random headcanon: Just like Louie with Goldie, Dewey calls Selene “Aunt Selene”. Well, I can see all the boys doing that at some point, but Dewey would probably be the first one.

(Minor credits to TV Tropes for this analysis)

[wasawattpadkid]

Call Me Dewey

Summary: Dewey's coworker set him up on a blind date with no other than you.

Pairing: Dewey Riley x Fem!reader

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff

Dewey was sweating at the idea of leaving the house. "How do I look?" Tatum rolled her eyes standing up. "You look like a narc. Come here." She unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt making him look just a little less uptight. "Do I smell okay?" He lifted his arm making sure his deodorant did its job. "Ew. I don't understand why you're doing this." Tatum crinkled her nose secretly praying Dewey didn't get his heart broken. When he told her the news she was ready for it to be a prank. Something they could laugh about at work the next day. "I don't get it either." He picked the flowers he bought you up before he hit the door. "Make sure to tell her if she hurts you I'm coming for her." Tatum was dead serious and it made Dewey smile. "Will do."

He drove his mom's car because Tatum told him his jeep was "total chick repellent." Dewey checked his reflection in the mirror running over the usual lines for a first date. "What do you do for work?" He said the sentence several times making sure to get it right. You watched the man you're supposed to go out with talk to himself in his car. Gently you knocked on the window. Dewey looked at you screaming in fright. You jolted back with a scream of your own not ready for anything that just occurred. "Oh my gosh!" He said as he opened the door.

"I didn't mean to scare you." You spoke as he wiped his sweaty hands off on his pants. "No I yelled first. Heh..." He awkwardly laughed. You really had a thing for the shy ones. "You look handsome." You complimented him finding it refreshing there was still men who put effort into dates. "You do too. Oh- well you look pretty, very beautiful." He stumbled over his words trying to fix his mistake. You placed a hand on his arm calming him down. "Thank you. Are you ready to get going?" He smiled appreciating your kind nature. Just then he remembered the flowers in his car. "Oh wait!" He spun around pulling the small bouquet from the front seat. "Those are for me?" It was a rhetorical question. "Of course. Who else would they be for?"

Dewey watched your smile get bigger hearing his words. "I'm going to put these in some water and I'll be right back!" You ran back to into your house mentally cursing yourself for not dressing up more. He was attractive. The ironed button up he wore did nothing but favors for him. "Fuck he's cute." You mumbled as you placed the flowers in the tall glass you found in the cabinet. You check your reflection again before heading back outside. Dewey stood outside the car waiting to open the door for you. You bit your lip trying to quickly raise your standards. The man you just met couldn't win you over by just opening the door.

"Thank you." He grinned. "It's no problem." Dewey got into the car starting up the engine. "Do you like Mexican food? There's a neat little restaurant right in town." You picked at your fingernails nervous about how this could go. "Sounds great to me." There was an uncomfortable silence as he drove towards town. "Ryan told me your name is Y/n. I want to make sure I'm saying it right." You saw the slight tremble in his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. "Yeah that's right. It's Dewey right?" The man driving seemed to get embarrassed by the mention of his name. "It's actually Dwight, everyone at the station calls me Dewey. It's a nickname."

"What would you like me to call you?" Dewey tried to hide his smile. No one had ever asked him what he preferred to be called. Even when he corrected someone they still called him Dewey. "Well my friends call me Dewey." It wasn't really an answer to your question. "Okay, when we become friends I'll call you Dewey. Until then it's Dwight." The grown man nodded. "I like that." You both talked back and forth having the usual boring small talk. "What do you do for work?" "How long have you done that?" It was played out but you supposed it was a necessary question.

"Wait I'll get your door for you." Dewey said once he parked the car. He quickly walked around the car holding his hand out for you to grab. "Thank you." You said again walking into the restaurant. The two of you sat down immediately picking up where you left off. "You actually got a cat down from a tree?" You giggled making him laugh as well. "It was a slow day and the poor guy was bound to freeze." The image of Dewey trying to pull a cat from a tree was sure to last awhile. "That was very heroic of you." The waiter came up taking your drink orders before quickly leaving. "I like to think so." Dewey changed the subject towards you. "Do you have any pets?" As you answered Dewey listened to every word. Mentally taking note just so he wouldn't forget later on.

An hour passed like it was minutes. "You're lying!" Dewey held up his fingers. "Scouts honor." Your date talked about work drama and family stories. He seemed to have a story about everything. You both shared childhood memories and little facts about yourselves. Dewey worried when you first got to the restaurant. He didn't date in fact this was the first date he's ever been on. The way Tatum talked she figured it wasn't going to go well. She was always the more realistic person when it came to life. Dewey liked to see the better of people giving everyone their fair chance.

The waiter walked by dropping off the check. Immediately Dewey grabbed the little paper. "How much was mine? I've got cash on me." You always offered to pay for your food. Some men in your dating history had this idea in their head that if they paid for your food you owed them something in return. You happened to know you were worth more than a 15 dollar meal. "I'll take care of it." He smiled at you thinking it was sweet you even offered. "How much was it?" Dewey shook his head at you. "Don't worry about it." It was a kind gesture. Maybe gentleman still existed?

Once the bill was paid Dewey walked you back to his car holding your hand. You felt like a teenager again with butterflies in your stomach. He held the door letting you slip into your seat. You might actually like him. The car started as he rubbed his hand together. "You'll have to help me get back to your place since it's dark." He put the car in reverse pulling out of the parking lot. "Sure." The conversation never stopped. You talked about your favorite shows and movies while he told you about whatever he caught on TV the night previous. The view of your house down the road actually upset you. You wanted to continue talking to him.

"It's right there on the end." You pointed as he pulled up the the residence. "Don't worry about opening my door." You reassured him but he argued. "I'll get your door. My mom would kill me if she found out I didn't hold the door for a pretty lady." Dewey stepped out leaving you to quietly kick your feet. "Y/n." He spoke helping you out of the car. "I had a wonderful time with you tonight." Dewey once again grew nervous fearful of rejection. "I had a good time too. Do you think we could do it again next week?" You stole the words from his mouth. "Really? I mean- yes!" You laughed at his excitement as he walked you to your door. "Are you in the phone book?" He asked hoping you didn't need to write your number down. Dewey hadn't planned to get this far he didn't bring a paper or a pen. "Yep I'm under L/n."

"I'll give you a call tomorrow if that's alright?" Dewey thought about calling you when he got home but he didn't want to seem to clingy. "I look forward to it." He smiled that boyish smile you'd started to grow fond of. "Have a good night Y/n." He said as he started to walk back to his car. "Goodnight Dwight." The man turned around smiling as he spoke. "Call me Dewey."

[tawneybel]

Get Stuffed: Chapter 1

Note: “The killer John Carver aka Eric Newlon from thanksgiving movie 2023 is a DILF. Do some x readers of him whenever you get the time to see the movie.” Also posted on AO3. There’s bad dark humor and mention of male anal.

Imagine Sheriff Newlon kidnapping you, but not because he’s out for revenge.

So the Carver’s a cat person, you thought, after just missing your neighbor’s murder. The killer patted Dewey, who nonchalantly ate dry food, while Manny’s body lay a couple yards away, open neck spewing blood all over the floor. 

Out of habit, you’d immediately locked the door behind you. With a murderer on the loose, it had seemed like a safe choice. As a security guard, Manny would have approved. As a corpse, Manny would remain unmoved. And have to settle for being the most useless warning ever. 

John Carver straightened up. You readied the spare key in your fist, behind your back. He could probably guess what you were doing, but he hadn’t rushed you yet. Lizzie McMullan’s lower half had been displayed way up on the RightMart sign. Manny was headless. The killer was clearly determined and seemed to have a game plan. You were a surprise. And you could be a bombshell. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you Americans don’t celebrate Guy Fawkes Day?”

A chuckle escaped from beneath the mask. Nobody moved. Except Dewey, who had almost finished dinner. 

“Where’s the head?”

The Carver indicated a black bag on the table. Out of reflex, you looked. Gave him an opening. 

You felt the prick on your neckline before locking eyes. Or trying to, because John Carver was blatantly ogling your breast. Or maybe just the dart sticking out right above your girls. Hopefully. 

Then he rushed you, to catch your bountiful form before it slumped to the floor. 

“I was supposed to be kittysitting,” you said after waking up in the John Carver House. Like Sheriff Newlon needed an explanation. Of course, you didn’t know your location or his identity. 

It was just cute you felt the need to explain why were at that fuck’s place. Eric had been stalking his targets for almost a year. If you were sleeping with that failure of a security guard, he’d have known. It wouldn’t have kept him from “rescuing” you, though.

He felt zero guilt about seducing Amanda away from Mitch. Got a thrill out of it, even. Like how he got a thrill about thinking how horrified the other guests would be to see ______ ______ get some extra stuffing. If he’d pulled a Ghostface, maybe you’d get some sloppy seconds.

Looking through your phone, he found you were a slasher fangirl. Perfect. Eric wanted you to get off. 

He and Amanda never got around to any roleplay. Again, the thrill of the affair kept them both sated. And the bun in the oven. Speaking of which…

You gazed, dazed, down at your chest. There was a Band-Aid over the entry point. Even with cranberry sauce shimmering on a stove, you could smell rubbing alcohol. You wanted to rub the blurriness from your eyes, but your arms were restrained. Why would the Carver bother disinfecting and dressing a victim’s wound? Particularly such a small one?

At least you were completely dressed. For now. 

Wait, no, you realized, blinking rapidly. No socks, no shoes. Just your little piggies wriggling. Painted piggies. The color suited you, even in the dim kitchen. Newlon smiled, before returning to stirring.  

Where did you put my boots? 

You hoped there wasn’t any broken glass or nails or anything. In case you actually managed to get free. A free bird. Now it was your turn to chuckle. Your captor slyly glanced over, taking in your bare toes and jiggling chest. Soon. Just needed to get the other bird in the oven first. 

“Hey, my bra!” 

Rock hard underneath your top, all you could do was curl your toes in embarrassment. Even though John Carver was the one who had apparently gotten a glimpse of your nipples. It wasn’t too cold, wherever you were, yet they felt like they could cut diamonds. 

How long was I out? 

Instead of filling you with shame, the thought of the Carver playing with your chest got you a bit hot and bothered. He could’ve taken those black gloves off to get a couple handfuls. It was a longshot, but maybe they could dust for prints. If only there was a way to escape. 

At least he didn’t use twine. Or piano wire, you thought with a shudder, turning away from him. Or- Oh my God. 

Finding himself just a bit too distracted by those cute tits, Sheriff Newlon decided to get to work. As he made his way to Kathleen, he took a moment to run a gloved digit up one sole, then down the other. Your bound form mimicked a hypnic jerk while he continued to the other prep table. Subjecting another woman to his per/versions and touching you while you’re conscious? Just how long were you tranquilized, anyway? 

Now you were mad. “Did you take my panties, too? Huh?”

He ignored you whilst brushing Kathleen’s feet with oil. Kathleen, who was either out of it or pretending to be. You couldn’t blame her. But you had to turn the Carver’s attention back to you. Somehow. 

“Your toes are curling again.”

“In distaste!” you spat. 

“Jealous? Don’t be.” 

He was obviously enjoying whatever this was. Yet, aside from teasing you, it didn’t seem sexual. Not that I like where this is going any better, you thought, spotting the chopped veggies circling Kathleen’s body. 

“Not into food play,” you muttered. Louder, “You’re, you’re going to splooge into my socks later? Aren’t you?” 

That’s when you noticed the large industrial oven. Preheating or already preheated. The heat could be felt even from where you lay. You needed to cook up a better distraction and quick. 

“It could be worse,” he said. 

“Why?” Turkey thigh.

“You could be wearing poultry frills.” 

“What?” Turkey butt. 

“Like in those old cartoons.” He snapped his fingers. “Kathleen would look so funny in those.”

“You would look so funny with a meat thermometer up your ass.”

It was the best you could come up with. Cringe, maybe, but the severity of the situation was weighing on you. That, and the unwanted arousal. Sweat that had little to do with the oven’s warmth dripped down your sides. 

Even from behind the mask, his body language suggested the Carver hadn’t considered butt play. 

He chuckled. “Maybe with an actual rectal thermometer.” Turning away, he added, “You and I can focus on stuffing later.”  

Eric really was enjoying your presence. You were saucier than he’d expected. It could have just been the sedative, but he didn’t think so. He knew the mouthy kind. Always had to have a  comeback, even when backed into a corner. You had a mouth on you, and he was going to put it to good use. 

Whatever he’d planned for you, it wasn’t going to be anywhere near as grisly as what he had done and was planning to do to others. The Carver wanted to have his way with you. And you had a nagging suspicion it wasn’t going to be puritanical. That unorthodox parts would be played with. Namely, your feet and his asshole. It shouldn’t be surprising that a masked killer was kinkier than most. 

Pilgrim, you amended. The actual John Carver was a Pilgrim, not a Puritan.

Under your breath, “Soles are in jeopardy.” 

Now unconscious Kathleen was having a handful of salt sprinkled on her face. The Carver, growing wise to your ways, rested a hand on your thigh before you could pipe up.

“Jealous, again?”

“What, that you’re getting your rocks-?”

“Huh. I was going to ad lib something about salt-”

“-on her face,” you said together. The Carver hadn’t ceased seasoning Kathleen; a salt shaker was being employed on the rest of her. Which was gussied up in mock Pilgrimess attire. Dress too short to be considered historically accurate. 

“She’s the main course, but you’re the centerfol- centerpiece.” 

It was clear you were horny. Both of you were horny. Kathleen was thankful neither the weird girl nor the serial killer knew she was awake. ______ ______ might not even care. You would be no help. That she was sure of. Or, rather, Kathleen thought, you could be a distraction, your voice dripping with honey. Ugh. You were freaky. Even if you were more interested in getting spatchcocked than escaping, Kathleen supposed some gratitude was due. She wasn’t going to give thanks until she got the hell out, though. 

Eric knew the heat (and the boner) were getting to him, because he really wanted to show you his face. This was tiring. He didn’t want his first time with you to be next to one of his revenge victims. At least, not an alive one. But he could edge himself a bit longer. Make you anticipate something really kinky.  

Horror, horniness, and heroism were duking it out inside you. Instincts were telling you to either be submissive, in order to make it out alive. And get bred. (Not to be mistaken with “get breaded,” which might’ve been on the table for Kathleen had this been another holiday.) Or be submissive, in order to help Kathleen. How was she still out? 

Holding the bottle of Mydayis, Sheriff Newlon almost scoffed. If only he had fertility pills, not just dextroamphetamine. He hadn’t expected to be so charmed. John Carver mask resting on top of the oven, Eric popped a handful. Moments later he admired his reflection, particularly the singed outline around his left eye hole. If he played his cards right, you would be leaving his ass/hole burnt like that later.  

Your nasty slasher kink… Surely you’d like it if he kept the mask on, right?

While Eric pondered that, you thought back to poor Manny. At least Dewey had fresh meat until someone came to check up on his owner. 

[bobbin-buckley]

In The End, You Were My First Love ❤️‍🩹

Chapter 1

He’s Back

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of Ghostface/murder, Amber being an ass, mentions of Abuse/Neglect, slight Homophobia

A/n: Not spelled checked 🙃

•———————————•

“He’s Back”

Flipping through the daily news

Even if it was a new era, you could basically get the news on tv more or on phones, but you, yes you, didn’t have a phone only a house phone.

You lived in a trailer in Woodsboro, were the classic murders of the famous Ghostface lived.

Boy were you glad you weren’t involved, but that might just take a turn.

Sitting on your singular chair in your living room, looking at the papers in your hands as it talked about another Ghostface attack has just happened last night.

The person you was attacked happened to be a friend. Not just any friend, your crush.

Tara Carpenter.

God damn she was gorgeous, her dark brunette hair that almost looked black, tan skin that looked so soft, and those eyes…you loved her eyes. You loved pretty much everything about her. You guys were that close, but Tara always seemed to talk to you a lot but it was cut short when her asshole best friend Amber Freeman appears.

She was your enemy, Amber hated you. You weren’t sure why, all you did was call her a skunk behind her back but- she hates you, and calls you names whenever Tara isn’t around. Maybe Amber likes Tara, or she’s jealous of the fact Tara talks to you more.

You had zero clue, Amber was hard to understand

But looking at the news made you try not to bark out a cry, Tara was the first victim. Your Tara

You sure damn felt bad, you wanted to go check on her make sure she was alright. But your gut was telling you not to, worried her friends will shoo you away.

It was Tara, Mindy, Chad, Liv, Wes and Amber. That was the friend group you always noticed sitting on the benches outside of Woodsboro High. You don’t have any friends other than Tara, you never stood out and people always thought you were weird.

Tara saw you as the good kind of weird, but everyone else thought the bad weird.

Was is because you had abusive parents don’t have parents anymore?

The question made your stomach turn

Your parents left you when you were 15, leaving you without much money, no car, and not a good house. You were barely surviving, surprised you could even still be in school. You aren’t sure where your parents went, they never told you where they’d move, they just blocked you out and disappeared.

It didn’t upset you too much, you knew it was going to happen eventually. You came out to them, they called you a disgrace and a burden. All because you couldn’t help who you like.

What a shame, you tell yourself

Keeping things positive wasn’t easy. Every time you’d try the positive, it’ll become negative the next minute. It always does.

The only person who kept you mainly sane was Tara and your neighbor.

The neighbor was Dewey Riley, yep, the Ex-Deputy and Husband.

He was a good man, he was involved in the very beginning of the Ghostface attacks. You never harped on him about it, and he liked that. Anyone who’d recognized him would jump to conclusions about his past, making him sad. Which you were a little upset about, and you felt the same way. Amber would tease you about your parents abandonment.

Ugh…you hated the raven haired

•—————————•

WoodsBoro High

It was lunch break. You were now sitting alone outside on a brick wall. Headphones on as you sketched anything around you in your notebook, even though you were supposed to be doing homework

Feeling as if someone was staring at the back of your head, you turned and made eye contact with Amber

Well shit

Let’s just hope to the gods she doesn’t approach, you were actually having a good day she hadn’t bothered you once!

You swiftly turned your head away, still feeling her drill her eyes in the back of your head.

“Why do you hate Y/n so much Amber?” Liv asked.

“That’s none of your business.” Amber turned her gaze from you to the pink haired.

“We’ll okay jeez..” Chad wrapped an arm around Liv’s waist, making Liv feel better. She smiled at him.

“Yeah, Liv’s right.” Wess spoke, looking up from his lap, “what’s your beef with Y/n? She seems nice.”

Amber scoffed, “that thing? Nice? She always gives me these weird looks and she doesn’t talk to anyone.” “So?” “So! For fucks sake she could be Ghostface! She’s been talking to Tara and look where Tara is now!”

“Amber!” Mindy yelled. “What!?” “You can’t just go off accusing people! And Y/n is not a thing!”

“Well…I mean- Amber has a point,-” Liv hits the back of Chad’s head. “Ow! That was mean!”

“Well how do you know for sure Am? She hasn’t done anything to you has she?”

“That little shit has a freaky obsession with horror movies! And you think she’s not Ghostface?” Amber points at you, “that weirdo more than likely loves Stab!”

“But I’m obsessed with horror films, and love Stab. What if I’m ghostface?” Mindy points out. Amber rolls her eyes

“Whatever guys, it doesn’t matter because we’re all suspects. Including you Amber.” States Wess.

“Psh- well don’t come crying to me when one of you gets murdered by weirdo.”

Everyone groaned

-

You knew they were talking about you. You were well aware of their presence.

Though you weren’t sure if Amber’s friends even liked you. It seemed as if Wess and Liv were defending you, maybe Mindy but did that mean they liked you?

Who knows…all you knew is that there were some likes and dislikes. Chad seemed to be for both, he wasn’t defending you of not being Ghostface, and to your surprise Mindy was. I guess just because your a twin doesn’t mean you think the same.

•—————————-•

It was the afternoon, you rode your bike to Dewey’s for your every night hangout. But this time it was different.

When you arrived you noticed his car wasn’t the only one sitting outside. Someone else was here.

Dewey’s front door swung open revealing two young adults. Quickly you hid behind Dewey’s truck, tossing your bike down.

Both of the man and woman got into a car and drove off, leaving you confused. Getting out from behind Dewey’s truck you see his front door open and he walks out, he stops when he notices you.

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asks, you just step closer to him. “Dewey, who were they?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just…stay here kid, I’ve got something to do.” He said sternly.

Dewey walked past you and opened his truck door, you turned around and got into the passenger seat. “Wh-what? No kid, stay here.”

“No, I’m going with you.”

“Y/n-”

“No. I’m going whether you like it or not.”

Dewey just nods, starting the truck and driving off to wherever your adventure may lead…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: this is short chapter but I needed to finish it 😭

Sorry for the long wait but here it is ✨

[atalossofwords]

YOU TASTE THE SILVER - IvanTill WIP (Part 11)

After basically two months, here we go! I'm so sorry for the delay, but I had tests, and then got sick, and then family problems, and some other shit, but! I think I'm getting everything back on track now.

If you've read the Mizi POV extra and was looking forward to a continuation of that, I'm sorry to say that I ended up moving things around for a better flow of things. So no hand-delivered gift for Till.

Without further delay, here's Till's POV of the recording and when he decided to call Ivan.

ON AO3 - part one - part two - part three - part four - part five&six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

Till couldn't believe this was happening.

The last few weeks have been... a blur, almost. His streaming is going well, his songwriting is better than ever, and he's been just generally happier with life.

(He tries not to think about why. If he does, he'll end up thinking of late-night chats and the ping of money being dropped into his account, Ivan telling him to get something nice. He still has no idea what they're doing, but Till... wants. He just has no idea what he's yearning for.)

It all goes up to eleven when Mizi's manager sends him an email. He has Hyuna and Dewey check it over with him to see if it's not a scam, and it's not until Mizi sends a video talking about how much she'd like to record a cover with him that he starts trusting it.

It's still surreal.

He feels on cloud nine, going through his routine and streams barely paying attention, focused on the date he's set to meet with Mizi and on the details of the collab. He talks with Mizi's merch manager, designs the keychains himself, asking Dewey to draw the little chibis of himself and Mizi. They discuss the single's cover, and set a date for a photoshoot.

He does all that on autopilot, feeling like he's suddenly been submerged in a pool of warm water. Everything is muted and muffled, slow and timeless.

(He doesn't notice the looks Hyuna and Isaac send him, all amusement and pride. He doesn't see Dewey's pride and worry. He doesn't realize Ivan is texting less and less, these days.)

He feels himself come out of it standing on the doorstep to the studio, suddenly assaulted by the sounds of the world outside, the chill of being outside the water.

Dewey, who came with him to talk to Mizi's manager about the art for the T-shirt, rolls his eyes.

"I knew you were just pushing it down. Come on, breathe with me." He says, one hand on Till's back to coax him to inhale. Till knows the breathing exercise from when Dewey and Till still lived with their mother, both tucked into Dewey's bed as he took deep breaths and told Till all about this new show he was seeing in the hopes of taking his mind off of whatever was happening in the rest of the house.

It's a few minutes before he can breath by himself, and thank god they came in early. Till scratches his nape, embarrassed. He doesn't know why he almost had a panic attack; it's not like anything bad is happening.

"Sorry, I'm fine now." He says, not looking at Dewey. His brother makes a highly skeptical noise, but squeezes his shoulder before letting go.

"Want me to set a half-hour checkup?" he asks, and Till relaxes some more. This means Dewey will come rescue him in half an hour unless Till sends a message otherwise, and having the excuse to get away because his brother insisted is a blessing.

He nods, sheepish, and Dewey snorts before towing him into the building. Soon enough Till is sitting on a meeting room of sorts, just outside the actual recording booth, tuning his guitar alongside Mizi's audio guy. So far it's all been professional stuff, things he can deal with. He's almost confident this won't end in disaster when the door opens and he hears Mizi's cheerful tone greeting them.

"Till! It's so nice to meet you!" She greets, and he somehow manages to do his own greetings without making too much of a fool of himself. She's setting her things down, and puts a Starbucks cup in front of him. "Here you go! I checked with Ivan to see what you liked, so I hope it's right!"

"Oh, you didn't need to, I'm sure it's perfect!" He says, ignoring how he perked up at the mention of Ivan.

Just as he expected, his drink is perfect. Ivan already knows Till's coffee order, his usual take out, and many other things. He doesn't know why he's so pleased by that.

Surprisingly, the rest of the session goes smoothly. Mizi is a professional, and she catches the groove of the song quickly. They harmonize easily, and Till feels so good he almost forgets his check-in with Dewey.

Mizi is just... So nice, and cheerful, and kind. He doesn't feel out of his depth, or like a star-struck fool. She asks about his inspiration, and what he was thinking when he wrote it, and soon enough they're wrapping it up, all the vocals and instrumentals recorded.

He's picking his things up when he sees the cup again, and he just... has to ask.

"Hey, Mizi-sunbae. Can I ask you something?" He says, watching as Mizi types something on her phone.

"Yeah, of course! What is it?" She says, looking up and smiling at him. He can't help but hitching his bag up his shoulder, embarrassed.

"How did you and Ivan meet?" He asks, because asking if Ivan said something else about him is just pathetic. And he's curious. How did Ivan manage to get him those tickets, what sort of relationship does he have with Mizi that she asks for Till's coffee order so casually?

"Oh, he's my friend's little brother, so I've know him since we were, like, 14." She says, waving a hand in the air. "He's kind of my little brother, too. Oh, look!" She says, looking back at her phone and typing for a little before turning her phone to Till.

It's a picture of Mizi and her roommate, Sua, who Till knows vaguely through a few pictures on the fan website. There's a man besides them, squeezing his cheek to Sua's. They're all smiling, dressed casually.

Mizi is talking, saying something about Ivan asking her to show him how to do Aegyo, and Till is... not listening.

It's Ivan, the actor Ivan. The handsome, rich, way out of his league Ivan, who allowed Till to chat to him about himself for an hour, who goaded Till into binging all his movies.

This can't be fucking happening.

Till focuses again, and Mizi is telling him about how Ivan showed her and Sua his covers, about how she got his song in her head.

Till, somehow, manages to finish the conversation. He thanks her for liking his songs, praises how the cover will end, and accompanies her to her Manager's office to sign some papers.

He and Dewey leave the studio and Till doesn't say much, but does smile and tells Dewey he's alright, it was wonderful.

He spends the ride back thinking. About Ivan, about how they met, about how Ivan is so eager to give Till everything he could ever ask for, how he1s so careful to remember things Till tough were just throwaway comments.

He heats his dinner in a haze, thinking over his emotions, the warmth on his chest every time Ivan messages, almost dropping his plate when he realizes Ivan has been pulling back, has been more distant, steering the conversation away every time Till talks about Mizi, as if the subject is uncomfortable to him. Like he knew Till was meeting with Mizi, and though that after it Till wouldn't want to talk anymore.

He waits until he's on his bedroom, on his pajamas, sitting cross-legged on his bed, to send the message. He wants to ask Ivan why he hid himself, why someone like him puts so much attention on Till of all people, but above everything else...

He needs to tell Ivan how much their interactions mean to Till, he needs to make it clear Till is not stopping their conversations, even if Ivan stops sending him money.

YOU [ 07:44pm ] Can I call you? We need to talk.

[agaypanic]

Grumpy Malcolm With a Sunshine Reader Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: holy shit i finally posted a fic. i posted this separately bc the ask was a bit lengthy and i didn’t want the whole post to feel bulky or anything

***

It was so weird for everyone when you first got together

You’re always so positive and energetic

Meanwhile, Malcolm hates everything and thinks the world sucks

Before you get together, it’s kinda like him and Cynthia where he likes you and stuff, but is slightly put off by your energy

“Hey, Malcolm!” The boy jolted, not expecting such an energetic greeting at seven in the morning. You plopped down into the seat next to him and took out a notebook.

“Hey, Y/n,” Malcolm responded, much more toned down compared to you.

You tossed your bundle of glitter gel pens onto the desk, letting them scatter around as you looked at your friend. “So, what did you do this weekend?”

Malcolm sighed. Francis and Piama had come to visit, which usually excited him. But those two days were filled with passive aggressiveness and backhanded comments between the couple and his mom. “Watched TV.” Malcolm usually liked complaining about his crazy family, but he figured he’d spare you from it because he didn’t want to take you out of your giddy mood. “What about you? What did you do?”

You were lucky that class wouldn’t start for a few more minutes, because you immediately went into an excited ramble about what you did over the weekend. To Malcolm, your energy made things as mundane as doing the dishes sound interesting.

Malcolm puts off you meeting his family as long as possible

Which isn’t long, considering his mom would find out pretty quick that you two are dating

He’s so worried that his family is gonna embarrass him and scare you off

But by the end of the night, he doesn’t know if he should be happy or scared that you actually like his family

You and Malcolm hadn’t even reached the front door yet, and you could already hear yelling and glass breaking. Malcolm cringed at the noises, putting a hesitant hand on the doorknob before looking at you. “Are you sure you wanna meet my family? I don’t know if you could tell, but we aren’t exactly… normal.”

“Malcolm, I don’t care if your family’s crazy.” You said comfortingly, giving him a peck on the lips. “I wanna meet them. Besides, I bet it’ll be fun!”

Your boyfriend didn’t really share your thoughts, but they gave him the push he needed to open the door and welcome you into the house. 

As soon as you stepped out of the front family room and into the kitchen, you and Malcolm were met with chaos. Lois was trying to cook, but kept getting distracted and yelling at Reese and Dewey, who kept shouting and fighting each other. Malcolm’s youngest brother, Jamie, wandered around the house, dropping toys without looking back at them. They would either make people yelp from accidentally stepping on them or be thrown at the two fighting brothers. The whole place seemed to be a complete mess. The only person who seemed unaffected by the environment was Hal, who was sitting at the dinner table drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

You nudged Malcolm, your bright smile contrasting his horrified look. “See? This looks fun!”

Sometimes, your energy can be a little much for Malcolm

Not that he would ever tell you that

It’s just that he’s so used to people around him drawing attention for one reason or another

And sometimes, he just wants to lay low

But if anyone ever tells you to calm down or to “stop being so weird,” he’s gonna fight them

Sitting at lunch with your friends, you were talking your boyfriend’s ear off. Everyone except Malcolm seemed to tune out you talking about some artist’s new album you had been listening to. Although Malcolm was a bit tired from his classes, he nodded along and added comments whenever he felt necessary.

But for the most part, he just listened to you talk. “And now she’s going on tour, and she’s gonna be playing at a place that’s only like an hour away from us. We totally have to go, Mal!”

“Maybe,” Malcolm responded, thinking about how many extra shifts he’d probably have to pick up at the Lucky Aide to afford the tickets. “But remember, Y/n, it’s not guaranteed we’ll be able to get tickets.”

“I have hope.” You shrugged. “But before we go, you gotta listen to the album first. I think you’d like it, Mal. Oh my gosh, there’s this one song that I think could totally be our song, you know what I mean? It’s called-”

“Oh my God.” Reese appeared behind you and Malcolm, staring at you with some displeasure. “Y/n, do you ever. Shut. Up?”

All you did was blink at Reese, wondering how or if you should respond.

But Malcolm came to your defense immediately. “How about you shut up, Reese?”

“Oh, come on, Malcolm,” Reese said, rolling his eyes. “You have to admit that it gets annoying with her talking all the time.”

Instead of replying, Malcolm jumped out of his seat and pounced on his brother, taking him to the floor. Part of you wanted to try to break up the fight. But despite all the violence, you thought it was sweet of Malcolm to defend you with such urgency.

And as much as Malcolm wanted to distance himself from it, he would probably always attract attention and bring chaos. But as long as you liked it, he supposed he didn’t mind it as much.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

[shychick-52]

Duckblr lunch table! Ok, this has probably been suggested in the fandom before, so apologies if it's nothing new....

But it's something that just occurred to me. What do we think of the idea of Louie always doing poorly in school pre-series because of his laziness, but also mostly (secretly) because he never saw the point in really putting in the effort or caring because he not only felt that nobody really believed in him (not only teachers, but his brothers and Donald), but he never believed in himself either, and everyone around him just assumed it was pure typical lazy Louie? But the twist is, because of his ability to really focus when he means to and to see all the angles, he's actually more than capable of totally acing all his classes (even rivaling Huey's grades).

Just like he never really thought he was good for anything in a family of adventurers with all their own unique skills, until he learned he could spot all the angles in 'The Most Dangerous Game... Night'.

On that note, I'd imagine Donald felt really bad for never seeing that in Louie and encouraging him more in school, just like I imagine Scrooge probably did at the end of 'Dangerous Game Night' ("I should have seen it earlier, the way you picking apart all those adventures!")

On that note, Duckblr, I'm sure a lot of us has thought Louie could use his talents to officially go into business (maybe even take over McDuck Enterprises someday)... but has anyone ever thought he would make an amazing detective or private investigator too (he would've been an even better choice than Webby to go sniffing for clues about Donald as Dewey's partner in the episode they learned the truth about his anger management)??

[thetrue-kitcat]

The triples kids!

Jet, Luna and Turbo (Birth order)

Jet:

1. The son of Huey but is mostly like Louie but actually tries if necessary to make his dad proud

2. He’s not the best with schedules or time but hasn’t missed anything important thanks to Huey

3. Despite his laziness he still try’s to protect his younger cousins with all his strength and cares about them even though he doesn’t show it.

4. He likes cherry pep soda-

5. He is 5 minutes older than Luna and 10 minutes older than Turbo

Luna:

1. Daughter of Louie duck and is the opposite of him

2. She’s kinda like Huey but doesn’t do Jr. WoodChucks and does sports (Volleyball and tennis) and she is the one with the schedules and timing

3. Tries to set a good example for Turbo due to Jet not doing it, but she still cares for both of them and protects them (mostly Turbo)

4. Even though she is the middle child of the cousins she doesn’t try to stand out and doesn’t really care about being the middle child

5. She treats Turbo like a child just because he’s 5 minutes younger than her but does it in a playful way

Turbo:

1. The son of Dewey duck and is more shy and timid but he still loves adventure like his father

2. When his family is in danger he will immediately go and his life for them and because of that Huey and Louie see Dewey in him

3. Despite being the youngest he doesn’t really like how gets attention and just wants to have some time alone but he still loves them

4. He never knew his father or what happened to him as he was never told about him but wonders what’s he’s up to

5. He calls Webby Mom because she is a mother figure to him.

That was a lot to type but it’s finally over, hope you enjoy these characters! I have more to come!

[captainzigo]

since I have been making my little pony comics for the past few months, I have basically forgotten what every single one of my duckverse comic prompts means. I had a big list full of one sentence prompts for duckverse comics that I was going to make, and I was reading through it yesterday, because I thought about making one. I was surprised to find out that I have no idea what any of them mean. instead of just deleting the list, I have decided to share with you. For what good it will do you. Think of this as a little shout out to the people who followed me for duckverse content. i havent forgotten about you. it’s also a little peek in my twisted mind. my horrible creation process. a behind the scenes look from hell. the list of prompts is below the break

max college fund

launchpad rescue hero

costco 22¢ per bite

house of mouse

door to darkness

because i’m hispanic?

donald cousins catch and release

fish wife

the greatest skateboard trick in the seven seas

backyardagins movie

evil versions boy band

gladstone gay moms

the poor part of town

private army of freaks vs my boys

you own the town. you are politics - what do you think taxes are for - not gladstone bail - id be doing everyone a favor

kids table is great actually

donald cry gold swim

beautiful gold moon

villains table

these lovebirds

gladstone can’t read

gladstone hyper specific thrift store shirt

louie seeing anyone right now?

managed my uncle’s finances

june dolls episode

may louie webs spy episode

house of mouse christmas hdl want to come

propeller cap start to turn. big wind. its a helicopter landing. thanks babe

double gay batteries

daisy likes donald snoring

if you can understand anything he says then yeah!

sora. quack pack. bald monkey

i respect your pronouns. i dont not respect YOU scrooge

why are you friends with my rival’s girlfriend

we’re sisters now too???

The dancing hacker - do you know how hard it is to lucid dream

are you guys playing dancing hacker?

how did you do that? Those dice were rigged i mean.

you guys were supposed to prepare a musical number every session

Lady in pink but with a knife

girl boss? No girl lady. But not a girl.

sephirof at the door. never seen Donald that serious in my life.

I have a superhero alter ego - like super Grover?

louie x robin the frog

daffy: i’m getting you a job in Hollywood, kid! You gonna make big times. Why? uh… i’m friends with your mom.

Duckburg community college is the only community college that does dance scholarship

duckberg community ducks, and the Duckburg University geese

in helicopter: you ever going to get tired of having our dates like this? no never.

donald take responsibility for our son! panchito what

babe your costume is terrible. why are you still in a sailor hat

tasha austin gay lesbian solidarity

hey webby! *glittery hands*

webby diary

shake for trust? glitter on hand. body slam

why did t you tell me your girlfriend is a pilot? tasha said i shouldn’t tell you because of what happened to you pilot ex. he’s still alive!

pablo: sleeper agents be like time for my next mission

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

WHATS UP T-BOYS?

donald’s boyfriends what does gladstone have against gay people

donald you should wingman for me. i thought you were gay

dugan duck is your secret kid isn’t he

huey ponytail

donald has three boyfriends why can’t i have two

woops i mexed up their super powers - let’s go, t boys! i didn’t make them trans! they were like that before, right?

your brother donald has like five partners. yeah and i’m not my brother donald. you’re right. i should date your brother donald

dewey damn girl your ass phat what are your pronouns. katy nun/ya

tying normie trans girl to a chair turbo pablo

don’t worry. the promise ring is just a tracking device

punch buggy gets steadily more and more violent

dewey’s many licenses

duck twins cobwebs

beaks: help! #911

katy can not entertain in her tiny trailer

uno gaydar donald i finally give you a job and you’re being gay on the clock??

when mom comes in and you have to hide your DS under your pillow

HDL Tulin

HDL chart

[bambiilooza]

hi hello hang on you can't just CASUALLY MENTION a headcanon i've been turning around in my head for days now but was too anxious to share with anyone because i figured i was the only target audience for it and then expect me to NOT lose my mind in sheer delight and joy over it. this is about the "Eurylochus and Ctimene are both aspec" thing.

also i love your art style!! and you have excellent taste in media, in the span of ONE day you have posted art of two of my most beloved characters of all time (Webby from ducktales and Eurylochus from epic) so that's incredibly cool. i saw the Ctimene and Eurylochus art first, thought "oh that's awesome", scrolled further down my dash and saw the ducktales art, thought "oh that's awesome" and didn't even make the connection that both were by you until almost half an hour later!

also i saw your mlp epic AU and now i have to ask you…what are your thoughts on a ducktales epic AU? in my humble opinion, Della Duck as Odysseus would be iconic, but idk about how anything else would work, except that Dewey singing the first part of Legendary as Telemachus would change my life forever.

anyways, hope you're doing fantastic and having a great day!! :)

hi!! i had drawings planned for this post but they got corrupted. my laptop hates me fsr.

thank u sm for kind words omg. this ask made me really happy. dt17 is my fav show and epic is my fav musical so i love making art for both of them :D

about the ace hc, i didn't think anyone would else would care about it either actually but i'm so glad u agree omg!! i'm acespec and i love eury being ace. i think ppl agree on it cuz of him in the circe saga but i've always seen him as ace. he just is i can't explain it. he is. and both him and mene being ace is smth very special to me omg. also having eury as ur beloved epic character is so based.

also u are a genius for the della and dewey as ody and telemachus is iconic. but can i also suggest

and i think instead of circe's island, it should be della and selene :D