#cop sock transformation

[anon-sect]

My best mate works as a cop, so his schedule is always busy meaning I don't get to spend any time with him any more. Do you know a way that means I CAN spend more time with him?

Picture source: internet

Eric had been best friends with Ken ever since high school. The only years they didn't hang out were during their college days. They both had gone to separate colleges. But when they both moved back home, they just picked up where they left off.

It was when Ken got a job as a cop that their time together changed. Eric saw less of his best friend. They hung out about once every two weeks. He wanted to spend more time with his long-term high school best friend.

One day, Eric was chilling at Ken's house. "I really miss hanging out with you." He spoke randomly to him.

"I know. I just have a busy schedule. Sometimes, it is hard to make time for us to hang out." Ken added to the conversation, massaging his tired feet.

"I wish there was a way for us to hang out almost every day, like we used to in high school." Eric paused. "I really miss those times." He spoke more.

An idea popped into Ken's mind. "Well, there might be a way, if you are interested, but will be on a volunteer basis. I won't force you into it." He proposed before revealing what he had in mind. His idea would serve two purposes. Eric gets to spend time with him while working on his feet for long hours and would feel much better.

Eric was intrigued about what he was proposing. "What do you have in mind?" He asked with a curious tone of voice.

"Well, my feet hurt a lot after my long shifts. I could use durable, super comfortable socks to wear while at work." Ken paused. "The only way to make a pair is human material. I could turn you into my special work socks. That way, you and I get to spend time together, and my feet don't hurt as bad. So, what do you say? Remember, it's a volunteer basis." He added, awaiting his best friend's answer.

Eric thought about it before answering him. "How long will I be socks?" He asked.

"Well, I honestly don't know how long I will keep you that way. But at least you will always be with me." Ken spoke honestly.

Eric really missed his best friend. This was definitely a way to be close to him every day. "Okay, it's a deal." He agreed.

"Really, you will willingly be my socks?" Ken asked back. He saw Eric nodding in reply. He pulled out his phone and opened up his TF Ray Pro app. He put in the setting and hit flash. Instantly, Eric was a pair of black socks on the chair. He picked up the socks and found them to be really good material and felt good in his hands. "Thanks, buddy. I really appreciate you willing to sacrifice your humanity to comfort my feet at work." He spoke to his new socks.

The following morning, as he got dressed for work, Ken tried on his new socks and was truly amazed. They felt even better on his feet. He put his boots on that he had for over a year. "I hope you don't mind the smell." He spoke to his socks as he walked around to test out his socks. He finally had the perfect socks to wear at work, and Eric gets to spend time with him at the same time. It was a win-win situation as he thought it.

Eric was amazed at how strong the odor of the boots was. He could definitely tell that Ken was in them for many long hours. He could feel the dried sweat crusted on the insoles and insides of the boots. The odor was extremely intense. It was a good thing he wasn't human or he most certainly would have vomited. Being walked on also took some getting used to. The pressure of supporting his best friend's weight was intensely heavy. It was quite painful with each step. He truly was a pair of socks.

TWO YEARS LATER........

Ken got dressed like he did every morning for work. He was amazed at how well Eric handled his feet. His socks were still in the best condition even after two years. There were times he wanted to change him back to normal, but he would change his mind each time. He really loved his work socks. He wanted to keep them forever. Eric was the best pair of socks he ever owned.

Eric could only focus on his Master's feet. It was still painful as hell, but he didn't mind making his master comfortable at work. The stinky prison he was in smelled horrible each day, but at least he was closer to his best friend for the past two years. He saw Ken as both owner and master and his best friend in the whole world. No matter the stinky prison or pain of being walked on, he would rather stay his socks just to spend every day with Ken.

[inanimatetffantasies]

[soldiersareyourprotectors]

Ethan Marks was a man of ambition, intellect, and unparalleled determination. At just twenty-nine, his muscular frame and impeccably tailored suits made him the epitome of a successful businessman and got him on the cover of multiple finance magazines. Groomed from a young age to take over Marks Enterprises, the billion-dollar company his father had built from the ground up, Ethan was on the cusp of achieving everything he had ever dreamed of. He had a luxurious penthouse with a breathtaking view of the city, a promising future, and the respect of the corporate world. But that day, after a grueling eighteen-hour shift, everything would change.

The penthouse door clicked shut behind Ethan as he stepped into the silent, expansive space. The city skyline glistened through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a testament to his hard-earned success. He was only stopping by to drop off some documents and freshen up before heading out again-he had a crucial dinner with some wealthy clients later that evening. All he could think of was a quick shower and maybe a change of clothes before the dinner. But before he could take another step, a sharp pain exploded at the back of his skull. The room spun wildly around him before everything faded into darkness.

When Ethan awoke, he was stripped and tightly bound to his own bed. The silk sheets beneath him felt cold against his bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat of panic surging through his veins. He thrashed against the restraints, but they were expertly tied, giving him no room for escape. His attempts to call for help were stifled by the gag secured tightly around his mouth. Heart pounding, he stilled as he heard the door creak open, dread pooling in his stomach.

A figure stepped into the room, and Ethan's initial relief at seeing a police uniform quickly turned to horror as he recognized the face. It was his twin brother, Aiden. The very image of himself, but with a sinister gleam in his eye. Aiden should have been rotting in a cell, far removed from Ethan's life. Yet here he was, standing in Ethan's sanctuary, a twisted smirk on his lips.

"Miss me, brother?" Aiden's voice was a cruel echo of Ethan's own, filled with dark amusement. "You see, the cop transporting me to another prison wasn't very careful. I borrowed his uniform for a little trip. I had lots of fun with his athletic body, in and out of uniform if you know what I mean. Sad I had to ditch his naked body later in a trench, though. I wasn't quite finished with my intimate desires."

Aiden's words twisted like a knife in Ethan's gut. The implications were chilling, each syllable dripping with malice. Aiden's enjoyment of his crime added a sickening layer to Ethan's horror. Ethan's muffled screams filled the room as Aiden approached, a chuckle escaping his lips. He began to strip off the police uniform, revealing the sculpted body Ethan knew all too well.

Aiden then took his time, savoring every moment as he dressed in Ethan's expensive suit, the fabric hugging his body perfectly. He picked up Ethan's briefs, Calvin Klein ones made of the finest cotton, and slid them on, adjusting them with a smirk. Ethan's face burned with humiliation as Aiden took pleasure in each step of the transformation.

Next, Aiden pulled on a pair of over-the-calf socks, the silk material sliding smoothly over his calves. He looked over his shoulder at Ethan, who was watching in helpless fury and despair. Tears welled up in Ethan's eyes, spilling over as Aiden continued.

Aiden slipped into the crisp white dress shirt, buttoning it up meticulously. He tucked it into the tailored pants, fastening the belt with a flourish. Ethan's chest tightened with each piece of his life Aiden claimed. Aiden then began to tie the silk tie, his fingers moving deftly, ensuring it was perfectly knotted. The suit jacket came next, fitting Aiden as perfectly as it did Ethan. Aiden smoothed down the lapels, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Finally, Aiden picked up Ethan's expensive double monk strap shoes. He held them up to his nose and inhaled deeply, a look of twisted satisfaction crossing his face. "Even your shoes smell of success," he mocked, before slipping them on and fastening the straps with a practiced hand. He stood up, adjusting his stance and admiring his reflection in the mirror.With a final touch, Aiden ran his fingers through his hair, fixing it to perfectly match Ethan's usual style. The resemblance was now so striking that even those closest to Ethan would be fooled. The transformation was complete. Aiden had become Ethan in every visible way.

"Don't bother trying to scream," Aiden said, adjusting his tie one last time. "No one's going to hear you. And besides, l've planned this for months. I switched our fingerprints in the police system. As far as the world is concerned, you're me, and I'm you."

Ethan's eyes widened with the realization of what this meant. Aiden wasn't just escaping prison; he was stealing Ethan's life. The company, the wealth, the future-it was all about to be taken by a man with nothing to lose. The sheer audacity of Aiden's plan was mind-boggling, the meticulousness terrifying.

Aiden stepped closer, bending down to look Ethan in the eye. "Enjoy your new accommodations, brother. I've got a company to run and a dinner to attend with some very important clients. They're expecting you, after all."

With that, Aiden left, locking the door behind him. The click of the lock echoed through the room, sealing Ethan's fate.

[ncisfranchise-source]

Wilmer Valderrama, the 44-year-old actor best known for roles such as Fez in the sitcom “That ‘70s Show” and Special Agent Nicholas Torres on the drama series “NCIS,” has immersed himself into the activewear business.

The actor, entrepreneur, activist and fitness enthusiast has introduced a new active lifestyle brand for women and men called E.P.U., which stands for E Pluribus Unum, which is Latin for “out of many, one.”

“I Iove the fashion industry and it’s something that I really have been paying attention to, and have been so fascinated by the people who create fashion,” Valderrama said in a telephone interview Friday.

The collection features unisex T-shirts, tanks, crew neck sweaters, sweatpants and sweatshirts, along with men’s and women’s hoodies and joggers and women’s crop T-shirts and tanks.

Sizes range from XS to 2XL, with prices going from $25 to $75. The garments are crafted from 100 percent French terry cotton. The socks, duffel, unisex T-shirt, unisex, tanks, and women’s crop T-shirt are all made in the U.S., while the rest is made in Vietnam and India.

E.P.U. has forged a direct partnership with the USO (United Service Organizations) with a portion of sales benefiting their mission of strengthening the well-being of service members and their families. Valderrama, who is a global ambassador for USO, has been on more than 45 USO tours around the world and his time with the troops inspired him to give back to the men and women who serve to protect the country — and the people they leave at home.

Valderrama said he’s no stranger to the fashion industry. About 10 years ago he was involved in a casual brand for two years called Calavena, which sold in stores such as Saks, Kitson and Barneys. The brand no longer exists.

This time he decided to get into active sportswear for several reasons. First, he realized early on in his career that fitness was something that “not only helped the mental strengthening of the ups and downs of the industry,” but allowed him to look ahead to what roles I wanted to play next. “From Fez and having to transform into a person who could play a cop, it’s part of the transforming process,” he said.

In that journey, he created the hashtag #MyHouraDay, where he would do something active and share it on social media. His followers around the globe started giving their own answers such as “Going for a run,” or “Going for a Swim.”

Further, Valderrama has been inspired by athletes such as cross trainer Mat Fraser and snowboarder and skateboarder Shaun White, who are friends of his. “We’re always talking about mental strengthening, and when you’re out there trying to be number one, what is that mentality?” Valderrama said.

As a global ambassador to USO, Valderrama will bring friends along, talk to the troops and design and host big stage performances with comedians, musicians and DJs. “I’ve been to almost every base around the world. I’ve been to Iraq, Afghanistan, [South] Korea, Germany, Lithuania, you name it, I’ve been at that base,” he said. He began realizing the commonality of the military and what he loves so much.

“Part of their every day is how much they prioritize fitness. Fitness was an extension of their daily routines,” he said. He said he made it part of what he does professionally. “My workouts weren’t negotiable, they weren’t hobbies. [At] 4:30 in the morning, I get up and I’m going to the gym, and then I go to work. It’s part of my workflow. That mentality started creating this mental strengthening that I was not expecting. I always had the bug to go back to fashion. And all of a sudden, I was like, ‘What if?’”

He believed that he could take everything he learned from traveling the world with the military, and the inspiration from his athlete friends to create a brand that infused that kind of community for mental strengthening. Inspired by retro fashion from the 1950s and 1960s and Double RL hoodies and sweatpants, he felt he could create a brand that looked cool and functioned well. They designed the looks to be worn to the gym for a boxing workout or cross-fit training, as well as great travel outfits and clothes that can slip off easily for the pool.

Since today’s generation likes to discover brands on their own, he is selling E.P.U. through an online store, epuhq.com, as well as Instagram and Facebook.

One of his main objectives is to build a community. By donating part of the proceeds to USO, he’d like to be part of building USO Centers around the world and creating programs for veterans and their families. He pointed out that USO is a nonprofit and not government-supported, so it relies on donations.

“This is very much a passion project of mine, and I want to be as bold as possible in supporting these programs. And then the big thing is we build mental strengthening facilities,” he said.

Valderrama, who owns his Los Angeles-based company 100 percent, said he’d eventually like to launch accessories, socks, gloves to work out in, shoes, water-resistant products, weighted-vests and his own equipment.

Asked how he finds the time to run this business, while pursuing an acting career, he said, “There’s always time. If you have something in front of you that’s a priority, the schedule somehow molds into a place that you also have time for it. I have literally daily calls on this. We have photo shoots.…We have tons of community-building content around this,” he said.

“It’s a big undertaking, when they say cut, I start making calls,” Valderrama said. So far, he’s working with eight or nine full-time people in digital, social media and distribution.

Valderrama declined to divulge how much volume he anticipates he’ll do in the first year. “We’re hoping that we sell out very quickly and go right into the next phase. The internal testing that we’ve done has been received incredibly. People love how simple it is,” he said. He anticipates the tracksuits will be a bestseller.

The collection’s color palette is the official colors of the different branches of the military such as red and yellow for the U.S. Marines, green for the U.S. Army and blue for the U.S. Air Force.

Valderamma said he never got a chance to serve in any of these military branches since he got his first big break in TV when he was 18 years old.

He recalled that he became interested in USO years ago when he was walking through an airport and two members of the military came up to him and asked to speak to him. They said that after a long day of doing what they do, they trade “That ‘70s Show” DVDs like they’re baseball cards. “’And we laugh. It really helps and thank you,’” they told him. Valderrama immediately called his agent and said he’d like to show up at their bases. “In two seconds, they sent me out on a USO tour,” he said.

For the collection, he worked with “a design guru who helped scramble what was in his head,” and his fiancée, Amanda Pacheco, who was their fit model and gave suggestions on the women’s fit. To promote the brand, he plans community workouts to show who’s supporting the brand and what the brand is physically doing in real time.

Valderrama was born in Miami but grew up in Venezuela until the age of 13 or 14, when his family moved back to the U.S. and settled in Los Angeles. His father is Venezuelan and his mother is Colombian.

Next week, he will start taping the 22nd season of “NCIS,” which averages 6.5 million to 7 million viewers live every Monday night on Paramount+ and has about 12 million to 13 million viewers overall every week, he said. Valderrama’s next project is a “Zorro” adaptation for Disney, which is in development and he stars and serves as executive producer.

The actor has also written his first book, a memoir entitled “An American Story: Everyone’s Invited,” (HarperCollins) which will be published Sept. 17. “The memoir is a tribute to my family by bringing me to the U.S., and showing me the road and allowing me to walk it. I was able to take the American dream and make it something that belonged to my life,” he said. When he came to the U.S. at around 14 years old, he didn’t know how to speak English. “And by the age of 18, I’m booking ‘That ‘70s Show.'”

[dorky-zuko]

“SHITSHITSHIT, IT’S THE FUZZ,” Akarsha hissed, when she had made it back to Noelle. “WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE.”

“What does that mean?” Noelle asked, confused.

“The ‘fuzz’ means the fuckin’ cops, Frenchman,” Akarsha told her, flashing a worried glance in her direction.

“Seriously?” Noelle whispered, horrified.

“Seriously seriously,” Akarsha confirmed, grimacing.

Noelle’s brain went straight from overdrive into certified freakout mode, her voice coming out as a breathless whisper. “Oh my god, we’re breaking the law! We’re criminals, and they’re the police!” She started to hyperventilate in front of Akarsha. “I’m supposed to go to college in a week, not to prison!”

“Hey hey hey hey hey, okay, listen,” said Akarsha quietly, reaching up and gripping Noelle’s face between her hands. “Listen to me. I’m not going to let my girlfriend go to jail, alright?”

Despite the terror coiling in her gut and making her mind hazy, the words my girlfriend zapped through the fog of fear within Noelle’s brain and got her thinking slightly more clearly again. “Girlfriend?” she asked in absurd disbelief. “You think I’m your girlfriend?”

“Oh, what, you don’t want the job?” Akarsha said, as she was looking all around the mall concourse, trying to find them an escape route. “I’ll have you know the benefits package is quite killer, and the application process highly competitive.”

“I... I...” Noelle spluttered, too scared and shocked at this exact moment to think clearly. She took a deep breath to try and master all of her competing concerns. “Of course I want the job!” she said finally, and a little indignantly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re about to be arrested for trespassing and breaking and entering and criminal-”

“We just gotta get away, that’s all,” said Akarsha, shaking her head at Noelle as she tried to dispel her fears and concerns. “There’s only two of them, and they’re probably just here to figure out why the power got turned back on last night. They don’t know where we are, or if we’re even still here. We can get away.”

“And what, just start living our lives on the run? Never resting, always only one step ahead of the long arm of the law?” Noelle asked derisively. “I can change my name to Jane Doe, and you’ll be Akarsha Doe, and we can bleach our hair, and start sleeping in shifts, and-”

Akarsha reached up and pressed a single finger gently to Noelle’s lips. “I know you’re all the way melting down over there, but stop and use your beautiful, wonderful brain for just a second. All we’ve done is break into an abandoned mall, steal some socks, and some rings from Claire’s, and a Sonic the Hedgehog Halloween costume. And I guess we also broke some glass. But I don’t think they’re going to start organizing a manhunt for us if we manage to get away. So that’s all we have to do. Just get away.” She took her finger off of Noelle’s lips and placed her hand on Noelle’s cheek. “Okay?”

Noelle tried extremely hard to push all of her fears away and focus solely on the warmth of Akarsha’s hand on her skin. And after a second, it worked. “Okay,” she said tremulously, nodding her head slowly as she stared into Akarsha's eyes.

***

Remember kids, crime doesn't pay. And always gun it from the cops!

[swordmunch]

the episode "the fugitive" from The Twilight Zone is absolutely bonkers fucking insane and like not in a good way

TW for stranger danger and abelism

okay so like I get it was "a different time" or whatever and a YouTube comment or two said that this was reminiscent of a nice cute wholesome fairytale story from when they were young or whatever...

BUT

it's got some suuuuper creepy stranger danger (and with it SA) subtext

oh my got whatttt

so like this grOWN ADULT MAN (over 1000 years????? and also he looks 50ish in human years???) is friends with these TINY LITTLE CHILDREN can't be more than what 11?

and this grown adult man lives in the same apartment as this kid, Jenny, so it's not that weird that they're friends but like. idk it rubs me the wrong way (...because of the rest of what happens)

so like there are these policemen that come and ask Jenny's aunt about Ben, the grown adult man friend, and Jenny r a c e s out of the apartment (she's also grounded) up to Ben's apartment (? unsure if it's really an apartment; it's just one room)

so she goes up to Ben's apartment/bedroom (! >:|) and they have a conversation about how HE IS A FUGITIVE

and THEN when the police come knocking on Ben's door, he transforms into a mouse and she picks him up in hides him (in her hand)

she then takes him to hER BEDROOM and they have another conversation about how he's a criminal and that he has to leave before the police catch him! and she's just like. alright then adult man, I trust you (*^-^)b

(ʘ̥_ ʘ̥)

other context: Jenny has a lame leg. previously she was asking him why he didn't heal it if he had these other magic powers (transformation into "horrible" monsters to play with the several park children he played with)

he says he didn't because that would give [the space police] his location, and now it's okay because he has to leave and find a different planet to hide out on

hhhhhh I do not particularly want to describe the events around him healing her leg. but I will because I want someone to share my pain jeSUS

okay. so. he takes off her socks n shoes and brace. cut to the aunt making dinner. from outside Jenny's bedroom, she hears Jenny go "Will it hurt? Be careful!" .ʕʘ‿ʘʔ.

I'm just leaving it at that because the SA implications are already enough for meeeee

so MOVING ON.

so he heals her leg, turns into a fly, and escapes out her window.

Jenny once again races outside the apartment (this time without her leg brace! /derogatory) she runs right into the two cops who KNOCK HER UNCONSCIOUS AND LEAVE HER FOR DEAD

literally. the aunt calls a doctor and he like checks her heart and her legs and then goes "whelp. this is beyond my expertise, her pulse is slowing, and I'm just gonna go. not call my colleagues and get her more professional help. just. leave"

after that EXTREMELY unprofessional man leaves, old man comes back in fly form and heals her. Jenny is overjoyed that old man came back, and then the two police guys are right behind them.

but nOPE turns out they're not police guys and Creepy Old Man is, in fact, a King. of an entire planet, presumably. and the "space police" are his subjects trying to get him back because he was a. good ruler.

they say they were okay hurting Jenny because they "knew [Creepy Old Man] would come back to heal her" or whatever

like,,,,what if he didn't? Were they just gonna be. okay. with leaving this little girl for dead? Because it sounds a lot like they were okay with just leaving this girl for dead, to me

I don't think this is even the worst part.

because he abducts her

he asks the subjects to "leave the room for one minute so I can talk to Jenny"

so then he turns into Jenny. and when they come back, one says, "[they'll]" have to take both of [the "Jennys"]" now the other one talks, "because the council wouldn't like it if [they] brought back the wrong one"

SO THEY TAKE BOTH OF THEM

and okay sure she eventually grows up to be "an honest to goodness queen" but like oKaY???

Jenny still spoke to Creepy Old Man and brought him into her room when she thought he was a fugitive!!!!!!!

I have no substantial thoughts besides "what the fuck" for this episode because I am too tired (physically and emotionally) to dissect the meat and potatoes of how fucked up this episode is

[mtfstuff]

"Shit. I have to hide somewhere",  I thought. "The cops will be here soon"

I look around the mall, seeing people shopping happily. I pull my backpack even tighter and walk straight forward trying to get myself lost in the crowd of people shopping.

I got myself into this bad situation. Ever since the black market was flooded with the bodysuit serum and other enhancers, crime rate sky-rocketed. I was one of them too. Before I started robbing banks I was an athlete in a circus. Heavily underpaid of course. One day I got my hands on the serum and on a kind of time enhancer. I used both of them on myself and now I can turn everyone I want into a bodysuit. With the Enhancer I can move much faster than every other person and I'm so much more agile. I often turn old men into suits to rob a bank. No one expects them to be a thief but this time I messed up. Someone managed to call the police while I was robbing the bank and now they're following me.

So I walk through the mall, pulling my cap deeper down. I search for an unsecured exit but security is everywhere. But then I see a possible way out. I rush towards the men toilets and look around if no one got suspicious of me. Inside the bathroom I looked around for a new skin. At first I thought I was alone until I heard someone pulling up his pants and flush. I stand in front of the cabin door and prepare to ambush whoever is in the cabin. The lock turns, door opens and a shirtless muscle jock comes out. He looks at me confused and I look confused too but then I remember the sign. The toilets are shared by the mall and the gym next to it.

The jock wants to say something but I push him back into the cabin. He falls onto the closed toilet.

He looks perplexed by the fact that an old man managed to push him back. I close and lock the door behind me.

"What the -", he isnt able to speak any further as I grabbed his nipples to start the transformation.

While his body deflates I'm admiring his godly physique. Big pecs, beautiful abs and great biceps. I admire his handsome face, wild hair and his nice tanned skin.

As he deflates further he's losing his clothes. His shoes and socks slip from his feet and his wallet falls out of his pocket. I lift it up to see who I'll be for the next few days.

Joshua Hunter, 27, resident in San Francisco. Nice.

He deflated completely and I start to strip myself. After that I peel off the old mans skin. I pull it over my head, take my arms out of it and woggle it down my body until I can step out of it.

Joshuas shorts and boxer briefs fell to the ground as I lifted his skin. I stretched his mouth wide and stepped into him. Even though I have an athletic body too, it was impossible for me to fill his skin. I position my legs inside his and pull it up further.y arms enter the bodysuit and I pull it over my shoulders. If anyone would see me right now would think that I was standing here in a way too big, dumb looking muscle suit. As I positioned my dick inside his, mine felt so small in comparison.

Everything arranged I pull his face over mine and the transformation began. The loosely fitting skin starts to fit better as I feel how my muscles grow to his size. It was the first time that I took a body that was buffer than my own and it filled myself with testosterone. My blood was rushing through my body and I got a boner. My cock, still growing in size to Match Joshuas, started to twitch.

I sat down on the toilet as his memories started to flood my brain. I saw his friends, his career as a model, his memories of masturbating himself to sleep and so much more. As I sorted his memories I noticed that the transformation had finished and that my now thick cock was spurting pre-cum. I opened my backpack and put my old skinsuit and clothes on top of the money I stole from the bank. I took Joshuas clothes and put them on. I opened the cabin door and checked myself out in the mirror.

As I wanted to leave the bathroom 2 officers entered the bathroom.

"Hey you!", one of them shouted.

My heart started beating faster.

My heart started to beat faster.

"Yes, officer. How can I help?", I answered.

"Have you seen an older man, between 55 and 70 years old, coming through here?", the other asked.

"You mean the creepy guy with a backpack who ran through the gym? Yeah, he left tje gym.", I lied.

"Thank you for your help.", one said as they walked through the gym towards the door.

Now I'll go home to test my new body. I'll definitely enjoy the time as Joshua Hunter.

[oyewiththep00dles]

I made a post earlier about how we don’t talk enough about Mickey’s physical transformation throughout the show and how it coincides with how he feels about himself, so I figured I’d talk about it.

Ah, Season 1 Mickey. He’s just so… dirty.

As Veronica once said, “That is the dirtiest boy I have ever seen.” And she’s not wrong.

So in season one we meet Mickey and yea, he’s dirty. I’m sure most people would write this off as well he’s poor so, but so are the Gallagher’s and aside form Lip they all look mostly clean, most of the time.

In the beginning of the series Mickey is not only in the closet, he’s halfway down the denial river floating on a boat of shame. In short, he doesn’t like himself very much. His self worth is so tied up in his sexuality. Because of this, he doesn’t give two shits about his appearance or his personal hygiene for that matter. In fact, I think it’s almost used as a shield and a deterrent so people don’t look to closely. If he looks the part of a thug, or a delinquent, or just a generally unsavory person, no one will fuck with him. Even more, the more rugged he looks the more “manly” he thinks he is, because being gay makes him feel so unmanly. His internalized homophobia runs bone deep my friend.

Even in season two, he’s still looking pretty rough.

The first picture if from when he just got out of juvie and the second from when Frank caught him and Ian. Uh, notice that he’s wearing the same dingy shirt (though these are clearly episodes apart) and of course the gross looking beard.

Frank catching him and Ian together literally terrifies him because he’s so afraid of his father finding out. He purposely violates parole by punching a cop just to run away from it all.

The same can be said for a good portion of season 3, when he’s still sneaking around with Ian, denying even to himself that he’s gay. This is also the season when his dad catches them together, and his worst fears come to fruition. He tries to pretend with Ian like everything is fine and nothing happened but it’s just that, pretend.

I would venture to say that it isn’t really until season four that we start to see Mickey take any kind of interest into his appearance.

(Ooof he’s so fine here! This is my favorite hairstyle for him and that sweater, unf.)

Even though in season 4 he’s married to Svetlana, I don’t think we can deny that by now he’s accepted his feelings for Ian, which means he’s started to accept himself. At one point we see him putting on cologne before he goes to find Ian at that bar, which when you compare that to season 1 Mickey whose white socks were almost black and had holes in them, that’s a huge difference.

By the end of Season 4 Mickey comes out. And he doesn’t just simply come out, after the brawl with his dad he lays it on thick how much he loves Ian and his *cough*cock*cough*. It’s played for laughs a bit but I think it’s indicative how free he feels now, how unafraid he is to just be who he is. 

Season five is interesting. He spends the majority of it taking care of Ian in some way, but throughout his appearance is still pretty decent. The one time we see him slip is after he visits Ian in the hospital. Interestingly enough, I think there’s a large part of Mickey that blamed himself for Ian getting that bad. We know this because of him apologizing to Lip in the car on the way to drop Ian off.

This AGAIN speaks to how Mickey feels about himself. That familiar self-hate started slipping in so, who cares if he showers or changes his boxers.

Seasons 6-9 are a bit of a wash because his appearances are without much story.

But then we get Mickey season 10 & 11.

Talk about cleaning up. Those jeans have no holes or stains, his jacket and shirt aren’t stained and wrinkly. And in the second picture his under shirt and boxers are actually clean! He hair is well kept and everything.

Obviously I could be reading into all of this way to much, but I mean isn’t that exactly what meta is? Mickeys physical transformation seems just as important as his emotional and mental be in my opinion.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 1

... I have no self-control do not perceive me

Marinette stared at the pile of bright red, yellow, and green clothes on the ground. It was all she’d done in the five-ish minutes since she’d portaled onto the scene. Just… stared.

It wasn’t like there was much else to do, anyways. Red Robin was currently beating the absolute fuck out of the person that had the audacity to disintegrate his brother right in front of him. It wasn’t like she could even fix it because the witch had been out cold before she had been able to pull Red Robin off to get a hit in so she could use her lucky charm.

So, she stared.

It was weird. She could almost feel a person inside the clothes but… maybe that was the residue or the ashes or whatever gets left behind when you zap a person out of existence? She didn’t really want to check, to be honest. Gross.

Eventually, though, she hesitantly leaned down and brushed her hand over it, trying to find the energy and get rid of it because it was really uncomfortable --.

… oh hell no that pile of clothes did not just fucking giggle at her.

She narrowed her eyes and carefully lifted up the bottom of the shirt, only to yelp and fall back. She scrabbled on the gross Gotham alley ground until her back hit Red Robin’s arm and he was forced to pause or risk hitting a meta (which would not have been good for his health).

“What?” He hissed.

She swallowed thickly. “That’s a child.”

“... what?” Red asked, all the anger bleeding from his tone in his confusion.

“We let Batman’s kid turn into a baby,” she whispered… then, it sunk in more. “We let Batman’s kid turn into a baby.”

He straightened on top of the thing that was really more bloody pulp than person at this point. “What do you mean ‘we let Batman’s kid turn into a baby’?”

But she didn’t really get a chance to answer because the baby chose that exact moment to be sick of being suffocated under all the armor and pushed it off.

Red Robin gulped. Because, yep, that was Robin as a baby. Batman was going to kill them.

Except he wasn’t going to kill them. Because Batman doesn't kill. No, Batman would find something even worse and that would suck.

The baby -- Robin? Should she still call him that mentally? -- giggled at their pain. Like an asshole.

They were so fucked.

~

He’d let B’s favorite kid get turned into a baby. Was there a way to get unadopted? Because if there was it was totally going to happen. Or maybe his dad would just cut him off because he was 19 now and could just get kicked out.

No. Nope! Not going to happen. No. He could fix this.

“Okay. Okay okay okay. We need a plan,” he heard himself saying.

Ladybug scoffed. “We? I was barely even here, this is on you.”

“Leave me alone to deal with this and I swear to god I will tell B that you did it.”

She paled. “You wouldn’t. No way.”

“Yes way. So, help me think of something.”

The baby giggled and started crawling over and both of them averted their eyes because, unfortunately, the child did not get baby clothes to go with his random transformation. Baby Damian didn't seem to care as he reached them and started climbing on Ladybug since she was closest. At least it wasn’t him. He did not want to see his adoptive brother’s… ew.

Ladybug made a gagging sound and then quickly summoned a lucky charm. She kept her face turned away as much as her neck would physically allow as she fumbled her way through swaddling the child in a polka-dotted blanket.

And then her shoulders slumped a little. “Great. Great. This is… great,” she muttered, picking up the bundle o’ baby.

He let himself look down now that it was safe.

“Alright, we need to go to another dimension where time moves faster,” Ladybug said after a few seconds. “And then we wait for him to age… fifteen-ish years. Best way to not make Batman notice.”

“... what about us? We also age.”

“Huh…? Oh. Right. You’re human.” She pulled off the glasses she was wearing and blinked a few times before handing it over. “Congrats on your upgrade. The tiny horse god is named Kaalki. She likes cake.”

“The tiny --?” He let out the world’s manliest screech as his eyes landed on the floating bug horse hybrid thing holy shit no no no no no the sci fi movies didn’t prepare him for this shit.

Kaalki looked a little offended but then her eyes landed on the baby and she gasped. “Aw, baby humans are always so cute.”

“Great, Kaalki, you take it,” said Ladybug.

Kaalki did try, to her credit. It just so happened that the approximately one-year-old baby was a lot bigger than the… whatever she was. Tim was refusing to believe that this was a god. Too many implications. He already had something to have a breakdown over, he didn’t need another thing right now, thank you very much.

Tim rested his head in his hands but he had more things to worry about than the blood that he was accidentally streaking through his hair.

“Okay. Okay. We can go to another dimension and try and raise him. Maybe we can make it have a ratio of one month here for every year there so any differences could be blamed on that.”

“Ya!” Said baby Damian. He probably didn’t actually know what was going on but he sure seemed excited so that was cool.

Ladybug sighed and nodded. “Great. You get food and money and clothes and I’ll take this lady to the cops… and I guess I’ll watch the kid until you get back because your dad cannot know.”

They shook on it.

~

This may be the dumbest idea that she’d ever had, and that was saying something. She didn’t know if she could trust Red Robin on this one, they hardly ever worked together. What if he just left her alone with this kid and let her try and figure this out on her own?

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was the last person known to be with Robin. Robin going missing would be bad for him, too. And, besides, she was pretty sure that he was a duty-driven person based on what she’d heard, she just had to hope that he saw this as his duty, too.

She turned the baby in her arms to get more comfortable as she waited for him to (hopefully) come back.

Part of her wanted to try and find someone from this world to reverse this but she didn’t know any outside of her, Adrien, Alix, and (now) Red Robin. Not on a personal level. Not enough that she knew for sure that they wouldn’t blab to Batman about it.

So, no, this is what she was doing.

But she had things to do. So, she pulled out her yoyo-phone-hybrid-thingy and wedged it against her ear.

“Chaton,” she said the moment he picked up. “You’re alone, right?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Great. I, Ladybug, relinquish the Miracle Box and name Chat Noir the new guardian.”

“WHAT --?!” He didn’t get to finish as a box dropped on his lap and knocked the wind out of him.

“Just for, like, a year and a half. Sorry. Bye!”

“DON’T JUST ‘BYE’ ME WHAT THE --?!”

She hung up and closed the yoyo, hooking it back to her belt and ignoring it when it started buzzing again.

She looked down at Robin, who was squinting up at her. She returned the squint. Why was this baby so quiet? She didn’t get it. Surely, he should have been crying at this point.

“Do you still… remember things?” She asked, hoping against all hope that maybe he had retained his memories at the very least.

Robin smiled at her, but it was the blank-eyed baby smile that meant he wasn’t really understanding her. She bit down a curse.

Great. So, she’d not only gotten a baby but she’d gotten a fucking weird one. Great.

~

Tim left a note for his family saying that he, Damian, and Ladybug were bored and were going dimension hopping. His family would probably be suspicious but, hey, at least it wouldn’t be his problem for a good fifteen years on his end.

And, yeah, he knew this was probably one of his dumber plans but… it wasn’t the dumbest. And he was always one to commit when it came down to it. One time he had faked being shot and dealt with crutches for an entire year just to convince Vicki Vale that he wasn’t Red Robin. He had no fears that he couldn’t see this through.

Ladybug, though? A total mystery. She did nearly everything on a whim as far as he knew. She hopped from city to city fighting crime for absolutely no reason outside of boredom and made up all of her plans on the fly. No, he was a bit concerned about her ability to keep doing it.

So, he went as quickly as he possibly could. There was no rhyme or reason to what he was grabbing. He was just… putting stuff in there. There was money and three watches to help them move between dimensions, yes, but there was also a fanta orange and a copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy and exactly seven pairs of socks.

… yeah, he had the necessities. Probably.

He nearly got out the door before he realized he was still in his crime-fighting gear and he quickly shucked it all off and tossed it into the tub so the blood wouldn’t track any more than it already had. He did not need to avoid Batman’s wrath only to end up on the receiving end of Alfred’s.

He pulled on the first hoodie and jeans he could grab and looked around to make sure he hadn’t left anything of importance.

Okay. Now he was ready to go.

~

Marinette was awkwardly bouncing the baby when Red Robin finally showed up.

… not that she would have recognized him if she hadn’t felt Kaalki hovering in his pocket. In her eyes, he was just a random white guy wearing shades in the middle of the night.

She glanced up at him and gave him an awkward smile.

“Ready?”

He smiled back and held out two watches. Neither fit baby Robin so she prepared herself to choke out a literal baby holy fuck what even was her life.

“Which dimension should we go to?”

“Preferably one without miraculi,” Marinette said. “I don’t want to know what happens if there’s two of the same god in a dimension.”

He nodded slowly. “Probably best if Batman doesn’t exist, either, he’d probably notice my existence.”

“... so… no heroes at all?”

“Looks like we’re going cold turkey,” Red Robin said in a tone that was probably supposed to be joking but just came out flat.

She pushed herself to her feet and waited as he scrolled through the millions of dimensions.

Finally, he came upon one and she added the coordinates to her and Robin’s watches.

She readied Robin’s watch against his neck and tried to ignore the kid’s sudden squirminess.

“3… 2… 1…”

They were gone in a whirl of blue light.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses

[authortobenamedlater]

No one is writing about this week’s Halo episode but I will because I’m a rebel and I’ll never ever be any good.

This show has a remarkable ability to let characters languish half to 2/3 of the season and then suddenly get their act together.

If we had to have Kwan, THIS is what I wanted from the getgo.

I actually liked her in this episode. I liked her banter with Soren. I liked them teaming up in a love/hate buddy cop sort of dynamic. I liked her speech to Vinsher. I liked her getting taken down a peg and being humble enough to learn her lesson. I liked her paying Soren handsomely at the end and their “I’ll see you again” “God, I hope not” exchange. This episode was a good coming-of-age moment for her.

Now WHY DID IT TAKE SEVEN EPISODES TO GET HERE?????

Looks like they are finally tying the Madrigal story into the larger plot of the show. @mrtobenamedlater thinks the things in the portal are monitors? Some kind of Forerunner stuff I don’t know anything about. And he has forbidden me from any Halo-Googling until I play at least the first game with him. I hate video games so this is a supreme act of love for my husband.

That said, I’m mad that I have to wait an extra week after the heart-racing perfection that was E6 for anything more on Chief or Cortana or Makee or anything else that actually interests me. However, in the spirit of shameless self-promotion, it means Choose You This Day is not officially not-canon yet.

At some point I want to see a Soren and John reunion, and I want Soren to sock John in the jaw and say “Do you have any idea how much trouble that rebel girl of yours caused me?” And then John says “Yeah well I took your advice and cut out my pellet. Any idea how much trouble that caused me?” After they beat each other up they sit on the floor in Soren’s asteroid house drinking whiskey and being bros again.

Maybe I should write a fic about that.

[marigoldvance]

Trick or Treat 01

Harlequin!Kee 'verse

prompt: (Trick) Something wicked this way comes… but oh no, he's hot.

Fíli hated himself so much in that moment, it made Azog’s career-long pursuit to see Fíli burn in Hell look paltry in comparison. He knew – k n e w – he shouldn’t have turned his back on the creature for a millisecond; had heard all the street lore and learned enough in the Academy about trading and imprintingand all the other fancy terminology, that he had a pretty decent grasp on an arsenal of hypotheticals.

Except that Fíli was exhausted beyond measure after a particularly gruesome, four a.m. shoot out that proceeded too many hours cramped into the fucking puny, department issued microcar. What amounts to the front end of Fíli’s personal sedan because the whole world’s gone green, and the COP thought it’d be a great way to sway public opinion in their favor.

Let Fíli tell you, it hadn’t fucken worked.

What’s more, Fíli’d been on shift for, going on, twenty-four hours without so much as ten minutes to himself – chasing leads and gathering evidence – that he was sure he stunk. He’d stripped down to the white tee he wore under his button-down, stained yellow under the pits and around the collar from a day’s worth of grease and sweat.

His button-down had been shoved under the lid of the dumpster behind the building, the left arm completely red-brown and stiff with semi-dried blood. His leather jacket was in equally poor condition, but it hung stubbornly on the back of his desk chair, shedding the stench of copper and sulfur and a day and night’s accumulation of stale BO.

At the desk behind his, Lickspittle stared darkly at Fíli’s jacket while he typed up his incident report, face purple and eyes watering.

Fíli hoped Lickspittle would choke on it.

His arm hurt, the skin around his stitches tight and pulling, and Fíli was in dire need of a week’s sleep. That case had taken everything he had and more. Bard, too, was swaying on his feet, eyes sunken and bloodshot, hair stringy, shirt wet in patches at the neck, shoulders, and upper back from the water he’d splashed over himself as soon as they’d stumbled back from the scene.

So, yeah, Fíli hated himself to the point of wanting to start his entire life over, but he figured it was pretty fucken justified.

He stood in the door a few seconds more, long enough to take a burning sip of the precinct's backwash coffee and feel it travel down his throat to his stomach, and then moved with as much purpose and authority as he could muster at seven a.m. on no sleep and considerably less brain function. It took a helluva lot of effort not to acknowledge what had occurred in the interrogation room after he’d stepped out.

Like he said, Fíli knew what it meant to be imprinted on by a Harlequin after what references called “transference”. But it was an entirely different thing to read about it in training and to experience it firsthand. For fuck’s sake, Fíli couldn’t even be certain that the creature in front of him wasn’t somehow a different one altogether.

The creature grinned at Fíli as Fíli dragged his chair back, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room, and took a seat across from them. All cheeks and crinkly eyes – now a warm, rich brown that reminded Fíli of cozy autumns under knit blankets, toes curled into fuzzy socks and the taste of spiced apple pie.

The eyes weren’t the only thing transformed, the creature had gone and done all of themselves at once, not bothering to consider that Fíli had swallowed enough magical horseshit for one case and was unequivocally done.

Chestnut hair spun into artfully windswept waves that fell to their newly broad, square shoulders. The shape of their face had gone from something almost indecipherably androgynous to overtly masculine, jaw sharp and soft simultaneously and bristled with dark stubble. Long, straight nose, heavy brows, features that could be as severe as they were sweet.

They shuffled closer to the edge of their seat, dropping their shackled arms onto the table between them and Fíli. Automatically, at the sound of the clattering chains, Fíli’s gaze flicked down. Thick, furry forearms replaced what had been bare white and mannequin-like. They tracked Fíli’s face for something they’d obviously found, their grin spreading, giddy and devastating.

Fíli’s heart thudded against his ribcage. He clenched his sweaty palms and cleared his throat.

It was the coffee, he told himself.

“Do you like it?” The creature asked, nudging their nose at Fíli, seeming to wiggle like a happy puppy though they hardly moved. Even their voice had changed.

Fíli coughed, sipped more coffee, pressed his lower lip between his teeth and released it with a sticky pop. When he glanced back at the creature, their eyes were trained on Fíli’s mouth, gone whiskey-smoke and heavy. Fíli felt his skin prickle and throat dry in response.

Fucking. Harlequins.

“You do, don’t you.” The creature said, dropping back into a slouch with a triumphant look in on their face. “I felt it as soon as you let me in.” They continued, stare boring into Fíli’s. Suddenly, their posture took on a sultry, sort of liquid grace that roused images of leather and velvet and sin in Fíli’s mind. “You want me like this,” The creature breathed, tilted their head back to expose their throat and moaned.

Instantly, Fíli was on his feet, chair flying backward with a clamour, and he smacked the metal table with his palms. His coffee spilled, paper cup rolling over the edge and plopping onto the floor.

“Enough!” He yelled, because Jesus Christ, even if the thing did, maybe, kind of embody all of Fíli’s sexual fantasies combined, they were still responsible for shooting an officer. After everyone had been cuffed. On the reasoning that the officer was a dick and didn’t need his big toe to survive.

The creature laughed, a bright thing, tinged crimson with mischief. “What’re you going to do? Throw me in jail?” They shook their head and tsked, “You know you’re not allowed to.”

Fíli leaned in and through gritted teeth said, “I can after forty-eight hours of this bullshit—” he flapped a hand between them, “And I will.”

“You won’t.” The creature said as if it were already decided and rose like a dancer, meeting Fíli over the middle of the table.

“What makes you think so?” Fíli challenged.

The chains clinked as the creature brought their hands down to support themselves, hinged toward Fíli so they could whisper in his ear, lips grazing against the sensitive shell as they spoke, “In forty-eight hours, you’ll be in love with me.” They eased back with a nip to Fíli’s lobe, resettled in their chair, sweet-as-pie smile tilted across their lips.

Fíli snorted incredulously. “I don’t think so.”

That he had to excuse himself to douse his head under cold water for five minutes was probably not the best way to prove the creature wrong, so sue him.

He couldn’t wait for the whole nightmare to be over and done with.

[mikauzoran]

Lady Noir/Ladrien: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter Two

Many thanks to @shadownoble for the prompt for this chapter!

Read it on AO3: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things: Chapter Two: Starlight

Groaning in exhaustion, Adrien collapsed facedown onto his bed.

Yet again, his father had run him ragged with photoshoots on top of magazine interviews on top of variety show appearances. That wasn’t even counting the extracurriculars he still had to do and the significant workload of his university classes.

He was so wiped, he almost didn’t move to look at his phone when it pinged with an incoming text.

When he saw the sender, however, he was glad that he’d put forth the effort. It was Ladybug checking in on him.

“i remember you saying you had a busy day so i wanted to see how it went”

A second message quickly followed the first: “hang in there!”

His heart melted a little at her concern.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Buguinette. <3” he typed back. “Today”

He paused, briefly considering lying and telling her that it had gone fine. Ultimately, though, he decided on honesty.

“didn’t go very well. There were a lot of problems that put us behind schedule, and my father was in a bad mood. I’m surprised no one got akumatized, honestly.”

“are you okay?” she replied immediately.

He bit his lip.

“he didnt take it out on you did he?” she prompted, and he suspected that she already knew the answer.

Adrien winced, hedging, “I’m all right. Just tired. It was a long day.”

His father had, in fact, lashed out at Adrien, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Ladybug was already on the warpath against his father, and he didn’t need to give her any more reasons to hold a grudge.

Several minutes passed with no response from Ladybug, so Adrien flopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He was just starting to doze off when a knock on his window pulled him out of the dazed limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

Adrien sat up with a jolt and found Ladybug smiling and waving from the other side of the glass panes.

He fumbled for the remote on his nightstand and hurriedly pointed it at the windows.

“Good evening,” she greeted cheerily as she stepped down into his room. “It’s not too late for a visit, is it?”

“A visit from you?” he chuckled. “Never. For you, my window is always open.”

“Good to know,” she laughed, taking in his rumpled, worn state. “I actually came to make sure you were doing okay and see if you wanted to go stargazing with me, but you look pretty beat.”

Sheepishly, he admitted, “I might be a tiny bit dead on my feet, but I’d never pass up the opportunity to spend time with you, My Lady.”

She didn’t know if she was ever going to get used to hearing him say that with Adrien’s face. It was taking all of her available energy to keep it together around him because she knew that treating him differently would only make things worse and defeat the purpose of her knowing his identity in the first place.

Oblivious to his partner’s internal struggle, Adrien got to his feet and was just about to call on his transformation when he remembered and winced.

“…Except…I promised Plagg that if he were good today, he could relax and watch his Netflix shows and eat Camembert in his sock drawer the rest of the evening.”

Ladybug shrugged, unconcerned. “You don’t have to transform. Just put a jacket on so you don’t get cold, and I can carry you.”

Cheeks burning, Adrien did as bid, slipping on a jacket and then taking her proffered hand.

The feel of her suit on his bare skin was odd but not uncomfortable. He couldn’t compare it to any material he was familiar with.

Not for the first time, he wished that there didn’t have to be a barrier between them.

“At least we’re one step closer to that reality with her knowing my identity,” he tried to comfort himself.

Meanwhile, Ladybug was internally freaking out and glad she still had the thin veil of anonymity to hide behind.

Almost a week after learning her partner’s identity, she was still struggling to reconcile Chat Noir with Adrien, and the feelings she had for both of them were making things complicated.

With a smile carefully pasted in place, she scooped him up into her arms and set off over the rooftops.

She didn’t go far—only to the Eiffel Tower a few blocks from the Agreste Mansion.

“Do you know much about the stars?” he asked as they settled into their usual spots at the top of the monument, away from the prying eyes of the public.

“Not really,” she confessed, sheepishly pushing a lock of hair out of her face. “You?”

“A little.” He pointed up at the sky. “Even though it’s autumn now, you can still see the summer triangle. There’s Vega, Deneb, and Altair.”

She nodded as she made out three bright stars that seemed to form a triangle.

“Over there by the moon, you can see Jupiter and Saturn,” he added, motioning to what looked like two big, dazzling stars.

She frowned. “How can you tell them apart from regular stars?”

“Planets don’t twinkle,” he explained. “Since they’re closer and bigger, their light doesn’t get distorted by the Earth’s atmosphere as much as the stars that are farther away. So, while stars twinkle when dust particles pass between them and us, planets shine more steadily because the dust particles don’t obstruct as much of their light.”

It was the kind of thing that wasn’t out of place coming from Adrien, but Ladybug couldn’t imagine having the same conversation with Chat Noir.

She blinked at him in amazement. “You’re really smart, Chaton.”

“Me? Smart?” A short bark of laughter caught him by surprise, and he shook his head. “I’m just a nerd whose parents kept him locked up most of his childhood. I read a lot to fill the time, so I’ve got a ton of useless trivia floating around up here.”

He tapped the side of his head. “For example, did you know that cats purr to self-sooth? Or, how about that the first cat video was filmed in 1894?”

Now it was her turn to burst out laughing.

That was her dumb cat, all right.

“You are such a dork,” she chortled, shaking her head in disbelief.

He shrugged, looking back up at the sky with a grin.

It was a huge relief that things between them hadn’t changed all that much since she’d learned his identity. It made him think that maybe things would be okay.

Her laughter slowly faded, and she scooted in a little closer, joining him in gazing up at the stars.

They sat there for several minutes before she spoke again.

“…You know…” She swallowed, mentally steeling herself for the confession. “…there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hm?” He tipped his head to the side, his curious gaze meeting her apprehensive one.

“I thought you should know that, about six years ago, I had this ridiculous crush on you—Adrien you,” she clarified.

His eyes flew as wide as galaxies. “You… What?”

“It wasn’t a celebrity crush or anything!” she rushed to assure, waving her arms wildly. “I…I sort of know you in real life, and I had a crush on you.”

His mouth opened and closed several times, and, after a handful of false starts, he managed to respond. “You said that you had a crush on me. Like…as in past tense.”

He drew in a slow breath, mentally preparing himself for the worst. “May I ask what I did that made your crush a past tense thing? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh!” she gasped, waving her arms like an air traffic controller yet again. “No! Nothing like that. It wasn’t your fault. It was me.”

He winced. “So…‘it’s not you; it’s me’ is what you’re saying?”

She cringed, realizing what an insincere cop out that sounded like. “No. For real, Adrien. It was me. I needed to prioritize my duties as Ladybug, so I didn’t have time for dating, but…mostly…it was that I realized that I didn’t know you as well as I should for how obsessed with you I was.”

She averted her eyes as shame bubbled up hot and red on her cheeks. “It was unhealthy, and I decided that I needed to take a step back and focus on my friendship with you…so that’s what I did. I concentrated on being your friend.”

Tentatively, she looked back up at him. “I think you needed a friend more than anything at the time anyway. …Though, I’m not sure if I even did a good job being your friend. I mean, I completely missed how bad your home life is, how much you hate your hobbies, how little control you feel like you have…”

He shook his head, setting his hand on her shoulder. “Buguinette, no. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I don’t let people see that side of things. Not even Nino knows the whole truth. I’m sure you did your best to be a good friend to me.”

He bit his lip and hesitated. “…Though…I kind of wish you would have said something about your feelings for me.” He accompanied his words with a wink and a teasing Chat Noir grin.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Flirt. You would have turned me down flat. You would have been nice about it, but you’d never have gone out with me.”

He grimaced when he realized that she was most likely right. “Probably. I may be stupid, but at least I’m loyal.”

“You’re not stupid,” she groaned. “Be nice to yourself, you dumb cat.”

He leaned in and rested his head against hers. “…Thank you. It means a lot to me that you care.”

“Of course I care,” she sighed. “You have no idea how much I care about you—both sides of you.”

She took a slow, steady breath. “…Plenty of other people care about you too, Adrien. That’s why I think you need to open up with your friends. Nino at least should know about how bad things are. He loves you, and he’d do anything he could to help.”

Adrien pulled away, straightening up and shaking his head. “I don’t want to be a burden on them.”

“They would never think of you that way,” she insisted vehemently.

“I don’t want them to worry when there’s nothing really they can do,” he amended.

“They can at least listen,” she argued. “They can text you cat memes and check in on you and let you vent. Isn’t that all you really want? People supporting you and validating your feelings and reminding you that you’re loved?”

He pursed his lips, silently considering for a long stretch. “…Yes, but…”

“Marinette told me what happened at the photoshoot today, what your father said to you.”

Adrien winced.

He’d known that Marinette was there at the shoot interning, but…

“Marinette heard that?”

Ladybug nodded.

Practically everyone on site had heard Gabriel railing at Adrien.

“He was wrong, you know.” She reached up and gingerly started massaging his scalp. “You’re not useless. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

Adrien made a noncommittal noise as he closed his eyes and lowered his head to her shoulder.

“You’re amazing and wonderful and hardworking and kind and smart and brave…and the best partner ever,” she stressed with unwavering conviction. “Your father is blind if he can’t see how incredible you are.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” he whispered, voice brittle and trembling as he held in tears.

“…You should tell your friends,” she repeated, gently urging. “You should have support in your daily life, Adrien. I can’t always be there for you, but I want you to have that kind of support. You deserve it.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “It’s just…my friends all have really solid family relationships. I don’t think they’d even understand.”

“But they’d try,” she countered. “They’d want to try to understand. They love you.”

“It’s hard to tell people you respect that you’re not all right,” he sighed.

She kept pressing, desperate to get him more support. “They’re not going to think any less of you, Chaton. I don’t. …Maybe start with someone you know will be on your side. Maybe Nino? Or…or Marinette? She was awfully worried about you today. I’m sure she’d want to help.”

Adrien winced and pulled away, sitting up to meet Ladybug’s gaze. “Yeah, but I already told one girl I like that I’m a mess this week. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to tell the other one too.”

She stared at him, blinking slowly as her braincells tried to reconfigure what he had said into something that made sense.

“You… You like…?”

An adoring smile spread across his lips, and a soft blush lit up his face. He nodded, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck.

“Marinette,” he completed, voice full of affection when he said her name. “Yeah. I do. I have for a while now. She’s so sweet and thoughtful and fierce and courageous.”

He laughed. “I’m lucky she deigns to be my friend. Ladybug, she’s so out of my league.”

“I’m sorry. What?” she scoffed, not believing what she was hearing. “You—you who are not only Chat Noir but also Adrien Agreste—you think that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is out of your league?”

Earnestly, he nodded. “Ladybug, she’s amazing. She’s like you.”

She covered her face with her hands as her brain overloaded from how adorable he was.

“Marinette’s not out of your league,” Ladybug grumbled. “…and neither am I.”

His eyebrows slowly climbed up into his hairline.

“Shut up,” she replied preemptively.

A broad grin broke out on his face as he realized that maybe Ladybug’s feelings for Adrien weren’t entirely a past tense thing after all.

“Stop that,” she groaned.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he chuckled, cuddling up beside her once more.

“You’re being smug,” she pouted, dropping her hands from her face and wrapping an arm around him.

“I would never,” he playfully protested.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they snuggled and gazed at the stars once more.

“…Maybe I should talk with my friends about what’s going on,” Adrien whispered after a long stretch. “It’s just really hard to be vulnerable like that.”

She gave him an encouraging squeeze. “We can practice, if you think that will help.”

He took a deep breath. “Hey, Nino? There’s something I want to talk with you about, if it’s okay.”

“Sure, Mec,” Ladybug responded, doing her best Nino impression. “What’s up, mon pote?”

“…My relationship with my father is in the rubbish bin, and I kind of hate my life,” Adrien groaned.

“Dude. That is it, Mec. I’m adopting you,” Ladybug as Nino decreed. “I’ll fight anyone who gets in my way. We’re gonna make this right.”

Adrien burst out laughing, leaning heavily on his partner. “I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. That’s probably exactly what he’s going to say.”

“So, you’ll tell him?” she pressed, mentally crossing her fingers.

Adrien blew out a long exhale. “Yeah. I’ll try to talk to my friends soon. You’re right. It’s more than I can deal with on my own, and I could seriously use my friends.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Ladybug reminded, giving his hair a nuzzle.

[chishiya-of-diamonds]

hey

i like you so i'll spam cringey pickup lines until you fall in love with me

feel my shirt. yk what it's made of? Girlfriend material 🫂🫂

aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?? 👹👹

are u a thief? bcs you stole my heart 🫶🫶

my name's Microsoft. can i crash at ur place tonight? 💻🖥️

if i could rearrange the alphabet i'd put u and I together 🤌🤌

did you just come out of the oven? because you're hot as fuck🍳🍳🍳🍳🍳

are u tired? u've been running through my mind🧠🧠🧠🧠

did it hurt? when you fell from heaven 😇😇🤌🤌

they call me the Periodic Table and I say there’s chemistry between us. 🧪🧪🧪

is your name google? cuz you got everything im searching for 🤞🤞🤞

tie your shoes. i dont want you falling for anyone else. 🥿👞👟👠👞👠👢

someone call the cops, it's illegal to look that good 🤫🤫

If you were a Transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine🫂🫂🫂💪💪

there must be something wrong with my eyes, i cant take them off you 👁️👁️👁️👁️

u owe me a drink bcs when i saw u, i dropped mine 🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍻🍻

do you like raisins? how do you feel abt a date 😟😟😟😟

me without you is like an ocean without water 💧💧💧

Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes 👁️👁️👁️

are u a qualified lifeguard? bcs i think i drowned in your gaze ⚰️⚰️⚰️

are u a book? bcs i wanna check you out 📒📕📓📕📚📑📚📑📓📕📕📒📕📒📕📒

are you a fart? Because you blew me away 😍😍😍💨💨💨💨💨

i want you to treat me like homework, slam me on the table and do me 🤞🤞🤞🤞

are u a broom? bcs u swept me off of my feet 🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹

if u were a fruit u would be a fine-apple 🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍

my feet are cold because you blew my socks off 🧦🧦🧦🧦🧦🧦🧦🧦🧦

im not an organ donor but i'd be happy to give you my heart 🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

is there a mirror in your pants? bcs i can see myself in them 🫂🫂

Do u like sales? Because if ur looking for a good one, clothing is 100% off at my place 🏬🏬🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

are u a camera? Bcs every time i look at u i smile 👺👺👺👺👺👺

my doctor says i'm lacking vitamin U 😞😞😞😞💔💔💔💔🤞🤞🤞

are u a sea lion? because i can sea you lion in my bed tonight. 🛏️🛏️🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌

do you have a name or can i call u mine? 🤙🤙

ur hotter than the bottom of my laptop 💻

on a scale of 1-10 you'd be a 9 bcs im the 1 you need 😮😮😮😮😮😮

Can I have your picture so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas?👁️👁️👁️👁️👁️

If u were a triangle you would be acute 🔺🔺🔺🔺

are u http? Bcs without u i'm just ://

kiss me if im wrong but dinosaurs still exist right? 🦖🦖🦕🦖🦕🦕🦕🦖🦕🦕🦕

if covid doesnt take u out, can i? 🦠🦠🦠🧫🧫

do u play baseball? Because i wanna take u home ⚾🥎⚾🥎⚾🥎⚾🥎

do u play soccer? cuz ur a keeper ⚽⚽⚽⚽

do you have a band aid? Cuz i scraped my knee falling for u 🤕🤕🤕🤕

i'm on top of things. would you like to be one of them??

are u a campfire? Bcs ur hot and i want s'more ♨️♨️

i wish i was your phone so you would be on me all day 🤳🤳🤳🤳

let's play Titanic. U'll be the iceberg and I'll go down🧊🧊🧊

Idk what's gotten into me lately, but i wish it was u 🤞🤞🤞

Are u a trampoline? Cuz i wanna bounce on you 🦘🦘🦘

are u a poster? Cuz i wanna pin u on a wall 🤕🤕🤕

As long as u have a face, i'll have a place to sit 🪑

I'm an astronaut and my next mission is to visit uranus 😮😮😮😮

Are u a baker? Bcs u have the nicest buns ive ever seen 🥐🥐🥖🥐🍞🥐🥐

I wanna use ur thighs as earmuffs 👁️👁️

if i flip a coin, what r my chances of getting head?

i'm a horse. now ride me🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

ur short without the s and r 🤏🤏🤏

even if there was no gravity i would still fall for u

no paper, no pen, but u still draw my attention ✍️✍️✍️✍️

i know we arent socks but we would be a great pair 😦😦😦😦😦

Are u a keyboard? Bcs ur my type ⌨️⌨️⌨️⌨️⌨️

I'm not 14 but can I be the 1 4 you?

idk how to kiss, can you teach me? 🦭🦭🦭🦭🦭🦭🦭🦭🦭

I have to admit, I admire your creativity. Not to mention the considerable amount of time this must have taken. I don’t think anyone has ever gone to such lengths to get my attention.

I have to ask, though, do you hang around with Niragi? I’m certain I’ve heard him use most of these on the female inhabitants of The Beach. Shockingly, when he uses them, they seem to work. Of course, the women Niragi is using them on are usually so intoxicated that they are barely conscious.

While I appreciate you confessing the fact that you are interested in me, I’m afraid I must decline. I don’t get involved in romantic partnerships/relationships at all. When I say “it’s not you, it’s me”, it has never been more true.

I hope this doesn’t cause any hurt feelings for you. While I tend to behave rather coldly to people around me, I certainly wouldn’t want to upset you as you seem like a very kind person.

I’m sure there is someone, much better than I, waiting for you out in this big world. You’ll know when you’ve met them because your pick up lines will be music to their ears.

-C.

[mushroommushy]

Lukalix December

Day 13 - Patrol

———————————————————————

An alarm went off in the living room, Alix glancing up from beside her brother. Her father looked up from his book. “Alix, it’s time for you to go to bed. You have school tomorrow.” Alim looked at his daughter, who was just starting to pack away her books. “I know dad.” She shoved her textbook into her bag for tomorrow morning. She quickly hugged Jalil as well as her father before heading upstairs to head to bed for the night. Alix sat down on her bed, putting a thick pair of socks on to keep her feet warm and burrowing herself into the layers of blankets she had. Often she got cold easily, though she’s been warmer since she became Bunnix, as well as her hair thickened. She shuffled around slightly, her window cracked open to hear the sounds of nighttime Paris. She regularly found it harder to sleep without background noise, so she’d either play some nature sounds or just let the sounds of the city put her to sleep. Her mind wandered slightly, reminiscing on the time she had kissed Luka in the heat of the moment. It had been a few weeks since that now, though she still thought about it. She had never kissed someone before, and that had been rather startling to realize how much she has enjoyed that kiss. Whenever it crossed her mind, she would absentmindedly touch her lips. Sometimes she even caught herself thinking about kissing him again, much to her embarrassment.

That’s when she heard the sound of her window being slid open, and her eyes shot open, quickly sitting up and bashing her supposed assailant in the nose. A harsh groan came from the person. “Ow..thanks for that. We have patrol.” Alix slapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment and horror, staring at Viperion. “Oh fuck I’m so sorry!” She quickly held out a tissue, allowing him to blow his nose. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. Thankfully I don’t think you broke it.” She sighed, muttering her transformation phrase and a blue light surrounded her, her pajamas being replaced with her suit. She slid onto the windowsill beside him. “You went to bed according to your dad already, right?” Bunnix nodded, “Yup, put away my books and went to bed. Though my brother does know that I’m one of the hero’s now.” Viperion tilted his head, “How?” She went silent for a moment, “He’s the guy writing Vipernix fanfic on the Ladyblog.” Viperion coughed slightly, turning his face away from her. “Ah.”

“Anyways..where are we supposed to be tonight?” Viperion flicked his lyre up, sending a holographic screen projection into the air. He scanned it for a moment. “We’re near the Norte Dame. Phoenix and Pegasus are near the Eiffel Tower.” Bunnix gave a small nod, launching herself Northwest towards the landmark. “Anything interesting happen yesterday? I heard you had practice with Kitty Section.” Viperion huffed softly, “XY and Bob Roth showed up. They’re still pissed about you suing them.” Bunnix gave a grin. “Good, let them throw a fit. What did they want though?” Viperion shrugged, leaping across an alleyway. “Not sure, something about trying to sue us for reasons they don’t seem to realize won’t work for them.” Bunnix momentarily laughed, before a amplified voice spoke. “Put the weapons down or we will have to fire!” She paused, glancing onto the street where a women was being held with a gun to her head by an adult man, whose face was masked with a black covering. Cops were lined up in front of him, their weapons aimed at the man. She gave a quick glance to Viperion, who was also looking at it with narrowed eyes.

Bunnix activates burrow, a ring of power circling around her wrist. She flicked it into open air, opening one of her portals which Viperion hopped into, her following her partner. He quickly activated second chance, Bunnix preparing herself. “Be careful please.” He murmured. Bunnix melted slightly, hearing the genuine concern for her in his voice before she focused again, narrowing in on the mans jaw and preparing her umbrella to strike. She lifted it off the ground, before charging out of the burrow and into the real world once more, right beside the man and women. She placed her umbrella and opened it beside the women’s head to block any bullets. She quickly spun her leg up, delivering a devastating roundhouse kick the mans jaw, knocking him out cold. He tumbled to the floor, the women falling to her knees and crying in relief. “T-Thank you Bunnix!” The police line lowered their arms, rushing up to their position and gently pulling the man away as some paramedics huddled around the criminal. Officer Roger approached her, ready to speak. He was Sabrina’s father, though she had never particularly liked him. He influenced his daughter into believing that friendship is the same as being a slave for someone, causing Sabrina to act like a doormat to those she cared about and it had led to some severely negative outcomes.

“Thank you, Bunnix. Though you shouldn’t have intervened it is appreciated. We could’ve handled it.” He spoke, giving the slightest nod of appreciation that barely showed any respect. While she wasn’t one who would demand it, she would’ve preferred if he had not been so dismissive of her risking her life. Viperion rushed out of another portal, pulling her back inside out of no where. He looked a bit shaken, grabbing onto her frantically and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. That’s when she noticed his clock ticking down and her face shifted into a frown. “How many?” She murmured, a concerned tone in her voice. His voice shook a bit when he answered, resting his chin on her shoulder, “About 9 times, straight through the skull. It was..hard to watch to say the least. Besides my sister, I hate watching you die the most.” Bunnix sat still for a moment, before reaching over to the burrow and speeding up time. No akumas would appear for tonight and training was optional. So, she leaned back into his chest, relaxing to allow him to calm himself. “We can take a break. No akumas are happening tonight.” She whispered, smiling as she felt his hand reach into her hair and ruffle it lightly, clenching it slightly in his grip.

[cuddly-dean-baby]

Hi I love your writing so much and I wanted to ask for a street racer reader x Dean if it’s ok I feel like it would be interesting to read about

Hi! Thank you so much for loving my writings ❤️. Of course you can have this. Idk what to write for this  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so I hope what I write is good for you

Dean’s Racer Girl 

A/N: you and Dean live in New York

A/N 2: I thought of doing a different ending of where you get into a car crash and Dean goes all proud but sad at the same time when you end up in hospital

“Dean, I’m leaving! I’ll meet you there!” you yell from the bottom of the stairs. You’ve been a street racer for a few years now and Dean has always wanted to watch you do your thing since he’s always at work at his mechanic.

“What?! No. It doesn’t start in the next few hours!” you watch him skid across the floor and stop at the top of the stairs, only wearing a shirt, underwear and socks.

“I know, that’s why I want to get there earlier. I want to do a quick drive and I have to do some things. And put some pants on, babe!” 

Dean screams as he runs into your shared room to grab his pants from your bed and struggled to put them on as he’s running to you, who’s already out of the house.

Sitting in your beloved 1967 yellow Camaro with black stripes, you buckle in. “We got this, Bee.” - yes, you got it and named it after the Transformer.

Both on your left and right are different types of cars, their drivers’ revving up the engines. You’re the only woman who always races with these men and they somehow manage to lose against you.

Dean has only heard the stories of you racing and winning, which makes him even more proud of you.

But when he watches you for the first time tonight, he’s gonna fall in love with you all over again. And he did.

A woman walks out and stops a few feet away from the cars and in the middle so she won’t get runned over, she talks about the rules, which you know by heart. With her arms up in the air, she counts down from three and down her arms they go, releasing the cars into the city.

A few cars managed to get in front of you, all going the same way, but you know a shortcut. You take a right, some following, with the rest going straight.

Picking up the speed, sirens and flashing lights come up behind you. “Shit.”

The cops chasing happened every now and again, but they know you, so they let you off the hook. Once they get a look at your number plate, their lights and siren turns off. “Oh, thank fuck.”

Shifting gears, Bee goes faster. From taking turns and knowing the routes, you see where you first started, a grin on your face. With a look in the rearview mirror, your grin drops as you see the others are not that far behind you. Putting pressure on the pedal with a smirk now, Bee goes over the line with cheers from the bystanders. 

Dean has a smirk on his face, muttering a “Fuck me” when you drove past.

Slowing down and coming down to a stop, you get out of the car with a giant smile on your face. Dean had already begun to walk towards you as the others had caught up and stopped in random places.

Dean picked you up from the ground and spun you around with the same smile you had on his face. You wrap your arms around his neck before he puts you back on your feet, his arms still around you.

You let out a squeal as his lips smash against yours, yourself taking a moment before returning the kiss. “Let me just say that was totally hot,” he says against your lips. He leans his forehead against yours, separating from the kiss.

“Yeah?” your smile widens.

“Mm-hmm. When you drove past, you want to know what I said?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck me.”

“Did Sam drop you off?” you ask, leaning your head back a bit to see him properly. “Yeah, why?”

“‘Cause I really want to fuck you.”

[ducktracy]

183. porky’s double trouble (1937)

release date: november 13th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (porky, killer), tedd pierce (narrator), sara berner (petunia)

the end of an era—this is the final cartoon to feature “fat porky”. though he’d been dieting since late 1936 and steadily throughout 1937 with the other directors, frank tashlin was the last one to skinny him up. ironic, since he was such a stickler for streamlined designs! nevertheless, this is an exciting change, as porky is finally completing his transformation into the pig we know and love today.

not only that, this is the final appearance of frank tashlin’s petunia as well. she’d go on a hiatus all throughout 1938, only to be revived by bob clampetts with a totally new design in 1939. unfortunately, she was only kept for two more shorts before being discarded again. parting is such sweet sorrow!

we deal with not one porky, but two: an escaped convict kidnaps porky and steals his identity in order to successfully rob a bank. it’s up to petunia to put a stop to this criminal’s crime spree... or is it?

a silhouette of a pig furtively creeps under a blanket of typography from the title card. the pig isn’t our favorite stuttering porcine, but rather a grisly, stubbly porky doppleganger attempting to escape from prison. he jumps and growls at the spotlight that shines on him, shooting at the offscreen subjects. not only does he whip out two pistols, he even flips them--such a small detail of flamboyant dramatics goes a long way.

prison guards shoot back at the convict, silhouetted against the night sky, illuminated only by the glow of the searchlight and the stylized white bullets raining down below. the composition is stellar, its flatness reminiscent of the backgrounds of the early ‘40s cartoons, primarily from the likes of frank tashlin, chuck jones, and even norm mccabe at times. a whistle screeches as the prisoners run along, rifles in hand. in all, the dramatic opening rampant with silhouettes feels quite reminiscent to the opening of little beau porky, another tashlin entry just a year prior.

callbacks are more blatant as we undergo the signature Frank Tashlin Expositional Montage, footage of cop cars racing out into the street reused from tex avery’s the blow out, while a close-up of a newspaper press is also reused from avery’s porky the wrestler. all the while, a shot of the convict, identified as “killer” by one of the newspapers in the montage, oversees the chaos, his eyes drifting along to survey the action, his lips parted in a sneer. the narration (tedd pierce?) is the cherry on top--often times, narration has a tendency to feel redundant, as if it’s a crutch to support the gags (i.e. some of tex avery’s earlier entries), but here it elevates the theatrics of the entire prison escape.

speaking of narrators, ours introduces us to a gangster hideout--an abandoned all girls school by the name of katz school for girls, a nod towards studio business manager ray katz--no doubt a place frequented by killer. tashlin’s cinematography is in full swing as we iris in on an exterior shot of the hideout before panning along the interior, an arsenal of weapons littering the schoolroom of years past. a smooth, clever transition of pans from the classroom to a grandiose hallway, focusing on a door.

killer’s lackeys crowd around a table littered with alcohol bottles and playing cards, but most importantly, newspapers highlighting killer’s escape. his cronies all mutter words of praise in thick brooklyn accents (”yeah, dis guy’s clever, jus’ like who-dun-y! he can get outta anyt’ing!”). the conversation between the gangsters is surprisingly natural and fun to listen to: one of the lackeys likens killer to “clark taylor”, a humorously false remembrance of actors clark gable and robert taylor combined.

 knocking outside the door prompts the cronies to whip around with their guns drawn, all crowing “who’s ‘dere!?” in unison. outside the door stands a rather spherical caricature of mae west--if there’s a mae west cameo, it must be a ‘30s cartoon! funnily enough, tashlin gets an animation credit on buddy’s beer garden, a cartoon whose mae west caricature is relatively integral to the plot as well.

mae informs the boys that she comes peddling a message from killer. furtively, they all crowd around the door, stacking on top of each other, each peering out of their own peephole door. the silent film inspiration is strong in this shot. not only that, its composition also reminds me of some of the shots in tashlin’s porky pig’s feat, a personal favorite of mine. 

all hesitation to let newcomers in is dropped once the cronies spot their curvaceous company. they’re instantly smitten, batting eyelashes and all, one of the cronies going so far as to stroke mae the messenger’s face. tashlin’s cartoons always had a promiscuous flair to them, especially in the ‘40s--here is no exception. perhaps it’s only natural, seeing as this entire cartoon is one large parody of all of the gangster pictures churning out from warner bros. at the time (marked woman, kid galahad, san quentin to name a few.)

“he said...” mae lunges a haymaker, causing all four cronies to domino together and knock into the door as mel blanc settles out of his falsetto, “NOT T’ FOOL AROUND WITH DAMES, YA LUGS!!!” killer strips out of his outfit (even removing an iron barbell from where his chest is), growling “let that loin ya a lesson!” as always, mel is fun to listen to--his falsetto voice sounds rather similar to the voice he’d use for his lou costello caricatures. 

killer eyes a stray newspaper, gloating “once i was only public enemy numba NINE!” at the sight of his new title as public enemy #1. (it should be noted that in tashlin’s first picture, porky’s poultry plant, another “public enemy” gag is used. gag continuity is always fun to see!) his eyes drift over to an article on the other side of the page (if you look closely, the date is “thoisdays octember 42nd”, the paper addressing the denizens of “porkysville”.):

“hey! what’s dis? da guy looks just like me! he could be me twin brudda!” frank tashlin’s disgruntlement with porky can be felt multiple ways here. not only did he hesitate until 2.5 minutes into the cartoon to introduce him, the underscore is “puddin’ head jones”, a frequent score associated with porky on numerous occasions offering not-so-subtle commentary about his intelligence (or lack thereof.) 

killer ushers his lackey to take a glimpse at his bank-teller doppelgänger, whispering a plan to them involving porky and the bank, the narrator clueing us in that “the evildoers carefully plan another hideous crime.”

it’s not a tashlin cartoon without his signature up-shot: we iris in on an impressive up-shot view of “worst national bank”, a score of “plenty of money and you” and even the extravagant car horn of a limo solidifying that yes indeed, this here’s a bank! inside, porky dutifully deposits the goods of his spherically designed patrons. even by 1937, these mathematically proportioned designs were out of style--i suppose tashlin got the memo, though, seeing as this is the final “fat porky” cartoon, indicating a transition into more modern, streamlined designs. 

bob bentley animates a close-up of porky depositing the cash of a scottie dog. cue the ever prevalent “cheap scotsman” gag, the scottie’s coin purse (a sock with a lock on it) revealing a swarm of moths upon its opening. he deposits a lone dime, porky happily obliging to sign the bank book. the scottie leaves, and it only takes a few bloated seconds for porky’s brain to catch up with him, realizing that he just signed a bank book to deposit a measly dime. he smacks himself in the face, a carl stalling favorite cue of “you’re a horses ass” providing musical commentary as porky glowers into the camera, hand sliding down his pudgy face. stereotypes aside, this is a fun little scene. it gives porky some personality, accentuating his gullibility (a persistent factor of his character, no matter who is directing him), and bob bentley’s animation is extremely appealing. no discretion to volney white, who animates the next scene, but there’s a noticeable difference in bentley’s and white’s styles, bentley’s animation much more dimensional. i absolutely love how he draws porky.

secretary petunia, once again voiced by sara berner, coos at porky to come over to her desk. she wastes little time flirting with him, asking that the two “step out” for the night. volney’s animation of porky is hysterical--his discomfort is exceedingly visible. porky gets cold feet, a stuttering mess (more than usual) as he sputters “geh-eh-g-eh-g-g-gee, miss petunia, i’m, uh, buh-beh-bashful... huh...heh, you’re so eh-peh-purrty, and eh-uh-i’m, uhh... yee-you’re, uh...” cue one of my favorite deliveries ever by mel blanc as the lunch bell rings. porky grins, realizing he’s saved by the bell. he doesn’t stutter once as he declares breathlessly “it’s time for lunch, g’bye!” and rushes off. the comedic timing, both from mel’s delivery and volney’s animation, couldn’t be better. 

porky strolls outside, where he stumbles across killer (disguised as mae west again) hammering away at a car. porky’s good nature prevails, which often leads to trouble: with a polite tip of the hat, he asks if the woman needs any assistance. “would you be so kind?” 

as porky works on the vehicle, killer prepares to strike, hammer in hand. his motives are thwarted as porky turns to offer assurances that the car will be fixed in a jiffy, killer impatiently hiding the bludgeoner behind his back. the charade continues, porky turning and talking, putting a stop to the nefarious deeds. as porky turns to say “eh-nuh-neh-nuh-now, it’s in the beh-beh-eh-beh-bag!”, killer grunts in his normal voice “SO ARE YOU!”, kicking porky under the hood (bumpy ride!) and peeling off in the car to certain doom.

the transition from killer kidnapping porky to killer putting on porky’s clothes (who’s bound and gagged in a chair) is surprisingly snappy, yet comprehensible and smooth. of course, the narration does contribute to the clarity, but regardless, such a quick transition can be difficult to convey smoothly and clearly. tashlin does it very well.

volney white animates killer’s taunts to porky: “and, wit’ your sissy clothes on, i can rob da bank! and YOU’LL take da rap, see!? AHAHAHA!” volney’s animation is fun to watch--before i saw this cartoon for the first time, i only ever saw google images of it, this scene being one of those images. volney’s eye takes amazed me at how anachronistic they seemed, and i remember likening him to joe murray if he made cartoons in 1937. very fun eye takes indeed!

speaking of fun, bob bentley does a neat little scene involving a brawl between killer and his reflection in the mirror. he goes to check out his new pilfered duds (”now i look like da squoit!”), admiring himself in the mirror. suddenly, his reflection grows a life of its own, sticking its tongue out. real killer gets pissed (if you notice, when he does a take of surprise, you can see where the cel of the reflection gets cut off) and punches the mirror, leaving the glass broken, his reflection now touting a blackened eye. while the “reflection becoming sentient” gag may seem tired, i enjoy how interactive killer’s reflection is, all without saying a word. the staging feels incredibly natural and nonchalant.

with that, killer makes his way to the bank, whistling along to the underscore of “with plenty of money and you” beneath the words of the narrator. you can spot a bit of camera trouble as the camera pans out from the sign at porky’s desk reading “PORKY PIG -- OUT TO LUNCH”: the pan janky, the picture briefly turning blurry before resuming to normalcy. it’s more interesting than detrimental, especially considering warner bros never did retakes.

cue a montage of “porky” stowing away the goods of the townspeople into his pocket, pretending to deposit them in the bank. the minor key rendition of “puddin’ head jones” is a nice reminder of killer’s similarities and differences. similar in appearance, maybe, but not much else. 

petunia engages in her routine from before, attempting to seduce “porky”. mel blanc’s genius shines as killer responds to petunia’s calls in a gruff, scratchy “YEAH, WHAT IS IT!?” he catches himself, and responds in an authentic porky voice “ye-ye-ye-yes, wuh-weh-wuh-weh-what is it?” the transition is seamless. whether it was on one take or two separate recordings, i don’t know, but it remains just as entertaining either way. i especially like how killer switches from “yeah” to “yes”--porky’s personality, while still relatively thin at this point, is certainly coming clearer. at the very least, frank tashlin knows that porky wouldn’t respond by saying “yeah”. it’s a little detail, but it says a lot.

and, just like myself, petunia also understands the distinctions between killer and porky--especially when killer plants a kiss on her as soon as she pulls the same “how ‘bout you and i stepping out tonight, big boy?” routine. killer grabs her in his arms, sneering “why wait until tonight, baby?” and gives her a kiss, prompting petunia to smack him and declare “why, you’re not porky pig!” killer’s response is full of careful wit and thoughtfulness as he so eloquently answers: “SO WHAT?”

ringing the burglar alarm, that’s what. petunia discreetly sets the alarms off, prompting a flurry of bullets to whiz at killer offscreen (they sure have good security!). killer retaliates with his own shotguns, but quickly speeds off to his hideout, goods still in his possession.

killer and his lackeys admire the treasures stacked on the table, eager to pounce. a clever pan to porky, still writhing around in his ropes as killer sneers “AND DEY ‘TINK YOU DID IT!” 

tashlin’s artistry strikes again as we peer at the hideout through the bars of iron gates outside. truck out to reveal police officers crowding around outside, crouching on the ground to remain discreet. the shot is composed rather nicely, with the ground level nearing the horizon line, elevating the subjects to the middle plane. even though the shot itself doesn’t linger very long, the clarity is easy to see. a tree placed off to the side cleverly frames the two officers who are on the screen--little things like that make a big difference.

one of the lackeys notices the cops are lurking by, alerts the others, and immediately shoots his machine gun out the window. watch all of the stuff flying out of his pocket as he shoots--playing cards, knives, guns, jewelry, even a wig! definitely a fun scene to freeze frame and pick apart all the details. 

the cops retaliate, and an all-out shootout occurs. a gag reused from i’m a big shot now (another gangster parody cartoon) and porky’s duck hunt ensues as a cop shoots up at the building, the impact from his rifle driving him into the ground as each shot digs the hole deeper and deeper. another rather fun gag includes a woodpecker drilling into a tree, causing the officer in the branch to clutch his heart and moan “they got me!”

in the process, stray bullets from down below shoot out of the floor, conveniently ripping the ropes bounding porky to the chair. a quick bird’s eye view of the hideout, and it’s onto porky to take action. because we all remember porky as a suave, charismatic crime fighter, it’s only natural for him to jump onto a chandelier hanging from the hallway and knock all of killer’s cronies into a door. (do cartoon characters have stunt doubles? surely they do! don’t they?) 

volney white’s animation prevails for the remainder of the cartoon. porky hops down from the upstairs landing, plopping down right on top of killer himself. both come to fisticuffs, volney’s hilarious facial expressions and treg brown’s masterful sound effects combining to make quite the amusing amalgamation. certainly a scene worthy of freeze-framing for all of the funny faces!

perhaps even more amusing, however, is the drastic tone shift as soon as the cops arrive: no time is wasted during the transition between the fight and an armed cop probing “alright, who’s the killer!?” the fight breaks up in an instant off screen, and porky (his voice un-sped) pleading “i’m uh-puh-peh-puh-peh-porky!” the transition is almost too swift, but is comical over everything else, so i’m not too slighted by it. killer insists in his own gruff voice “I’M porky!”

the cop isn’t convinced, and tries again. both insist that they’re porky. that’s when it’s petunia to the rescue, who assures the cop that she knows how to find out. she cozies up to the real porky, once more enacting their “big boy” charade from earlier. as porky flops over his words in all of his collar-tugging glory, petunia gloats “that’s porky.” porky nodding along to her affirmation is a nice, subtle touch.

as we’ve repeatedly discovered, frank tashlin was no fan of porky. even though he outwardly admits that he didn’t like to work with him, there are multiple clues throughout his pictures solidifying his disdain. here is no exception, as petunia outright screws porky over. 

her sultry demeanor changes from reassuring to duplicitous as she heaves a sigh and coos “how that killer can kiss!” porky rightfully grows angry, and, in a pattern we’ll observe in many a cartoon, allows his jealousy to triumph his bashful, reserved nature as he grabs petunia’s arms and pulls her in for a kiss. killer’s eye-boggling, affronted expression and porky’s triumphant, chest-puffing stance after the fact are both hilarious. volney white does a wonderful job of conveying personality through his animation.

here’s the kicker. despite getting her kiss from porky, she still isn’t satisfied. she coldly remarks “i STILL take the killer!” with that, porky can only gawk in awe as petunia and killer march arm-in-arm out the door, petunia cooing that she’ll wait until killer gets out of prison. iris out.

the voice acting steals the show in this cartoon. mel KILLS it (no pun intended) as killer, from the falsetto to the porky impersonation--which is just mel doing his regular porky voice--to killer’s evil belly laughs. sara berner does a fine job as petunia, and tedd pierce’s narration is always a joy to hear. i’m unsure of who voices the lackeys, as they don’t quite sound like mel, but nevertheless, they too are fun to listen to, especially their introductory dialogue. if anything, you should check out this short for the voice work alone.

frank tashlin’s eye for cinematography sparkles as it always does. the opening montage is particularly impressive, especially the use of silhouettes. very bold and striking. his layouts are very well structured, and the cartoon flows very nicely. it’s a snappy one, but it hardly feels like it drags. there’s a lot packed into these 7 minutes! 

though i do pity porky, especially at the end, i will concede that the end IS a good shocker, even if petunia is straight up cruel. porky’s personality is slowly weeding its way out of the woods, with some traits (good natured, gullible) sticking to his character all throughout his career. progress is being made! and, as i said before, as much as i enjoy the fat porky design, i won’t shed too many tears over this being its final appearance, because it marks a new step forward for warner bros. cartoons are becoming funnier, snappier, wittier, the disney influence continually waning. good things await.

i definitely recommend you check this one out. while it’s not my all time favorite tashlin cartoon, there’s a lot to admire, from voice direction to animation to even the layouts. 

link!