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loversandantiheroes · 4 years

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Hotel Hobbies - Prelude

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Reader Author’s Note: I have nothing to say for myself other than the most shameful of yee-honks. This was largely just an attempt to break through some writer’s block, but also a little bit of a fuck you to Whiskey’s godawful characterization (get thee hence, canon, thou art dead to me). In either case I 110% blame @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa for dragging me into the Pedro pit and for making the “yeehonk loser” tag funny enough for me to go see what the fuss was about. Either way, this is unbeta’d and barely edited and is probably just a big goddamn mess. Which fits, quite frankly. Apologies in advance if it sucks. Summary: He’s an insufferable, obnoxious blowhard. Which would be fine if he wasn’t also - some-fucking-how - hotter than a fucking wildfire. Warnings: Drinking, flirting, swearing, Whiskey being the obnoxious prick that we know and mostly tolerate. Rating: Mature (for the moment) Word Count: 1510

You’d met him, of all places, in the hotel bar, shored up over a drawn-out business conference. He’d turned up three nights running, a brash braggart in a stetson and too-tight jeans that seemed to stroll dick-first around the room, tossing pickup lines at anything that moved. By sheer luck he’d missed you, leaving the first night with a leggy blonde and the second night with a considerably curvier brunette.

Both times you counted your blessings as you watched him walk out with his arm around the unlucky lady. You didn’t know the man but you knew the type: the costume cowboys that laid on the charm as thick as their cologne to mask the smell of their shitty personalities.

But now on Sunday, night number three, your luck seems to have finally run out. Just as you finish your drink the bartender sets down another – whiskey, neat – and gestures at the end of the bar. “From the gentleman.”

You hardly need to look up to know what you’ll see. Smug, half-cocked grin. A gentle tip of the hat.

Fuck. Jesus, why.

You grimace out a polite smile out of sheer habit, and before you can even begin to slide the drink back towards the bartender the man has appeared at your elbow like a country-fried jack-in-the-box.

His cologne, at the very least, is not as heavy as you’d expected. Small mercies.

“Thanks, but-” you begin, already bracing yourself against the bar to stand.

“Oh no need for thanks.” He rolls right over you with all the practiced ease of a well-oiled steamroller. His voice is low, with a thick, heavy drawl that feels just a bit too put-upon to be completely real. “You’ll have to forgive me for being so forward, but I simply couldn’t stand to see a lady as lovely as yourself drinking alone three nights in a row. Thought I might offer the benefit of some company.”

He extends a broad brown hand. A tiny blurred bullseye marks the skin between the thumb and forefinger. “Name’s Jack. Most folks just call me Whiskey.”

“Whiskey,” you repeat, trying not to roll your eyes at the rather awful joke.

“Yes ma’am.”

You purse your lips, considering, as his hand hangs between you. You know more than a few ways to cut this little introduction short, though several of them – while wholly effective – might just see you banned from the hotel bar. And with easily another three days of bureaucratic bullshit on the horizon, you’re really not keen on that happening. Present company aside, the bar’s pretty nice.

Maybe if you're lucky you can bore him to death.

Begrudgingly you take his hand. The skin of his palms is thick with calluses. A surprising thing. His clothing is more designer than LL Bean, which made you think he was a business man or entertainer – the sort of rich asshole that owned a prized stallion at a private stable somewhere that he rode once or twice a month when he wanted to feel a little authentic.

But those callouses are hard and smooth. Not quite a workman's hands, but certainly the result of something a good deal more tactile and involved than pencil pushing. And that’s enough to make you wonder a little. Now that he's up close and personal, his face makes you wonder a lot. This is no Kentucky white boy. Not with eyes that dark, or that curving nose. And honestly, if it wasn’t for that insufferably cocky look on his face, he’d be a hell of a looker.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he says, thumb grazing your knuckles before releasing your hand.

"No, you didn't," you say lightly. "And I'm afraid I don't have much of a taste for whiskey."

He grins, leaning heavily against the bar and motioning for the bartender. "Well now, if my namesake isn't up to your liking, what would be to your taste?" He hooks the tumbler of whiskey towards himself with a finger – a rather thick finger, and that's one detail you're a little dismayed to find yourself lingering on – and takes a slow sip.

You tap your glass with three fingers as the bartender approaches. "Tequila."

The man who calls himself Whiskey gives an appreciative whistle as three shots line up in front of you. "Well now ain't that a plot twist. You must have a hell of a constitution. Tequila always leaves me flat on my back." He eyes you up and down, grinning, and the hot flush that brings on isn't half as uncomfortable as you'd like it to be. "Reckon I can see a similarity or two."

"I just get the feeling I'm going to need something a little stronger than a Cosmo to get me through this conversation," you reply coolly, ignoring the innuendo. "You have until I finish these shots, by the way."

Whiskey purses his lips, pouting. "I see you've already jumped to a few conclusions about me. Hardly seems fair."

You shrug, downing the first shot with little fanfare. "You've hardly been subtle. What happened to Friday and Saturday's girls?"

He takes a sip of his own drink, thumb rubbing thoughtfully against the side of his jaw. You try not to watch the way his throat works when he swallows. "Now if I didn't know any better, I'd almost think you were a little sore it took me so long to come and see you."

He positively croons that last, and you tell yourself the warmth you feel kicking up in your belly is just the tequila. Thank God for plausible deniability.

"Don't flatter yourself, cowboy," you say with a glare.

He chuckles. "Darlin', had I known you'd had eyes on me this whole time I would've come over a hell of a lot sooner," he teases.

You can only shake your head, half in wonder and half in contempt. "How did you even fit that much ego through the door?"

Whiskey tips his glass to you with a smirk, unfazed. "Patience, dedication, and a whole lotta practice."

You reach for the second shot, and Whiskey lets out a little sigh. He puts his hand over your wrist, fingers flat.

"Hey c'mon now. Slow down, sugar. As much as I like to tease, I ain't about to put sensibilities or your liver out of sorts for the sake of poking fun."

When he pulls his hand back, reaching for his own glass, it's everything you can do to mask the little shiver that ripples up your back. He is quite warm.

"I figured you for the sort that'd prefer a girl to be out of her sensibilities," you say quietly, fingers tapping against the rim of your glass. The skin on the back of your wrist hums where he touched you, and you do your damnedest to ignore it.

The corner of his mouth hitches up in a half-grin. "Oh, afterward, surely. But never before."

You roll your eyes. "An asshole with a sense of propriety. Now that's novel."

"Part of my charm," he says. “Bastard by profession and gentleman by nature. But I mean it. You are well within every right to walk away. Ain't gonna harm nothin' but my ego, and Lord knows there’s enough of that to go around.“

You roll the shot glass between your palms. "And if I walk away?"

Whiskey shrugs. “Well, then I get to cherish the view as you leave."

"God, shut up."

His grin widens and he leans in, teasing. "A bittersweet thought to keep me warm, alone in that big empty hotel bed tonight."

The glass almost rolls straight out of your hands. "I am not fucking you," you sputter, and your cheeks burn as you realize you practically pole vaulted directly to that conclusion with barely any preamble.

The silence hangs after that, heavy and charged. Somehow you think Whiskey's eyes have gone even darker.

“I said nothin’ of the sort,” Whiskey says delicately, hands raised in supplication.

There's a cold-burning fire in the pit of your stomach.Some of it's the alcohol. But most of it is a shameful delight at the way he's looking at you, and the mounting surety that you are probably certainly definitely going to fuck him if you don't walk away and call it a night now. You're not sure whether you hate him more for the assumption, or for almost certainly being right.

He says nothing, just looks you over expectantly. Waiting to see what you’ll do.

Slowly, you down your second shot. Fuck it. If this asshole is going to be your next mistake, you might as well make it on your own goddamned terms.

"So," you say, resting your elbows on the bar. “Whiskey. What is it that you do?"

He laughs, full-throated, and the corners of his eyes crinkle up in what you suspect might be a genuine smile. It's lovely, and that might just be the most infuriating thing of all.

"Oh darlin'. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

#agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #I hesitate to tag for the source bc I have Strong Feelings About It #wtf am I doing with my life #yeehonk

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thelastspeecher · 4 years

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Best Revenge AU - Junior

I’m still working on the ficlet in this AU that is Angie-centric and has stuff showing her relationship with Max, her divorce, and when she starts dating Stan. But ever since I decided to create a new kid for this AU, I’ve been unable to stop thinking about said kid. So here, have some origin story for Stanley Junior.

——————————————————————————————

The front door slammed open. Angie stormed into the living room, where Lute and Stan were waiting for her to come back. After finding out Max had cheated on her, she had immediately gone over to trash his place.

“Feelin’ better?” Lute asked gently. Angie looked at him for a moment, then burst into tears. “Angie?” She ran off.

“What just happened?” Stan asked.

“I don’t rightly know,” Lute said. He chewed on his lip. “Maybe it would be fer the best if you went to talk to her. She might not want to talk to her brother.”

“I’m on it.” Stan got up and went down the hall, coming to a stop in front of Angie’s bedroom. He cautiously opened the door. Angie sat on her bed, her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Stan took a seat next to her.

“You all right?” he asked.

“N-no.”

“What’s wrong? I woulda thought you’d be happy after trashing your ex’s house.”

“I prob’ly would be,” Angie said, wiping her tears away, “if I wasn’t…” She took a shuddering breath. “If I wasn’t pregnant.”

“You’re- but we haven’t knocked boots!” It was something Stan was a bit disappointed by, but he was fine with waiting until Angie felt comfortable being intimate. “How could you-”

“It’s Max’s,” Angie whispered. Stan stared at her in horror. “Seems- seems like he got what he wanted. I was ‘bout a week or two along when I left.”

“I thought you were on birth control.” Stan’s eyes widened. “Unless he fucked with your pills.”

“He didn’t know about the pills.”

“Then how-”

“Birth control can fail.”

“Are you- are you gonna keep it?” Stan asked quietly. Angie closed her eyes.

“Nothin’ against folks who decide to- to terminate a pregnancy. It ain’t my business what they do. But I- I can’t do that.”

“You’re keeping it.”

“Yes.” Angie put her head in her hands, sobbing again. “I’m- I’m sorry!”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I love ya so- so much, and ya won’t stay with me.”

“Hold on.” Stan held up a hand. “When did I say that?”

“You-” Angie stared at him, her bright blue eyes filled with tears. “Yer not goin’ to leave me?”

“Nope.”

“But I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.”

“So?” Stan said with a shrug. “Angie, this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in. I’m not gonna throw that away. You mean everything to me.” He reached for Angie’s hand and squeezed. “I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

“But-”

“And…” Stan looked down at the ground. “Honestly? I’ve wanted to be a dad since I was a kid. This just means I’ll be a dad sooner than I thought.”

“You won’t regret it?” Angie asked.

“I’d regret it if I left.” Stan kissed the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, Ang.” Angie pulled Stan’s face closer to hers and kissed him sweetly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Love you, too.”

-----

Stan landed in the backyard of Angie and Lute’s house.

“Mind the flowerbed!” Angie called from inside. Stan quickly shut off his flames. “Thank you!” Stan walked in through the back door. “In the kitchen!” He headed for the kitchen. Angie was nervously stirring a pot of something on the stove. Stan walked over to her and kissed the top of her head. “Are ya excited?”

“To meet your parents or to finally get all the baby stuff outta my apartment?” Stan asked. Angie swatted him playfully. The day after Angie told Stan she was pregnant and keeping it, Stan had gone on a bit of a spree, stealing things from numerous baby supply stores. Angie didn’t mind it, but insisted Stan not steal from small mom and pop stores. However, because she had wanted to wait to tell her family about the pregnancy, the baby supplies were stacked up in Stan’s apartment.

“Thank you fer bein’ so flexible on me not tellin’ my folks ‘til now,” she said softly. Stan shrugged.

“You’re the one who’s pregnant. I’m just following your lead.”

“Well, I’m officially in my second trimester, so now’s the time to tell.”

“Are you showing yet?”

“I literally showed ya yesterday. Do ya really think I’d have started showin’ overnight?”

“Well, you gotta get the bump at some point,” Stan said. Angie chuckled. She lifted her shirt to reveal her stomach. It was a bit bigger than before, but didn’t look evidently pregnant. “Nope. Not yet.”

“I ain’t that surprised,” Angie said, lowering her shirt. “I ‘member my Pa sayin’ that my Ma didn’t look pregnant until her third trimester fer all the kids. Well, all of ‘em ‘cept me ‘n Lute, since we were twins.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty small.”

“Doc says that the lil bean ‘ll prob’ly be small, too.” The doorbell rang.

�� “I got it!” Lute’s voice shouted from somewhere.

“Still can’t believe you managed to keep it secret from him,” Stan whispered to Angie. “Not only is he your twin, you literally live together.”

“Lute’s been walkin’ on eggshells ever since I left Max,” Angie said. She turned off the stove. “He’s very careful to not pry into my personal business, since Max was so controllin’.” Footsteps sounded. The front door opened.

“Ma, Pa!” Lute said happily. “Angie’s in the kitchen. I ain’t sure if Stan’s got here yet or not.” Lute entered the kitchen, a man and woman close behind him. The man looked like a carbon copy of Lute, while the woman looked exactly like Angie, with one major exception.

Angie clearly got her dad’s nose. Wonder if the kid’ll get it, too.

“Angie!” Angie’s parents promptly pulled her away from the stove and into a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see ya,” her father cooed. Her mother looked Angie up and down.

“I see ya fin’ly put some meat on yer bones,” her mom said. Angie turned red.

“Ma!”

“No, it’s good,” her dad said firmly. “You needed it.” He smiled at her. “You’ve always been so tiny.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause she ain’t stressed from livin’ with that turd what pretended to be a husband,” Lute groused, leaning against the counter. Angie kneaded her forehead.

“Lute…”

“I’m allowed to call him that.” A sudden melancholy fell over Lute. “He was my best friend long ‘fore he was yer boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“So, are ya goin’ to introduce us to yer new beau?” Mrs. McGucket cooed. Angie grabbed Stan’s hand. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Ma, Pa, this is my boyfriend, Stanley Pines. He works with Lute, but has a day job sellin’ used cars. Stan, these ‘re my parents, Sally ‘n Mearl McGucket.”

“Pleasure to meet ya, son,” Mr. McGucket said, holding out a hand. Stan shook the offered hand, forcing a smile. The two southerners seemed like a regular farmer and his wife, warm and gentle. But Stan knew that Mrs. McGucket was actually the infamous Sirocco, his own mother’s archnemesis, while Mr. McGucket had regularly interfered with local government as the villain Hemlock. “I got to say, I’m glad my lil girl fin’ly found herself a proper villain to date.”

“Pa,” Angie whined. Mr. McGucket chuckled.

“I’m just teasin’, junebug.”

“We’re so happy yer in a good relationship,” Mrs. McGucket gushed. “Ya had a clean break with Max and can start over.” Angie took a deep breath.

“A-about that…” she started. Stan looked at her, surprised.

“You’re gonna tell them now? I thought you were gonna wait until after dinner.”

“No.” Angie took another breath. “I just- I just want to get it over with.” She looked at her parents. “Ma, Pa, I’m pregnant.” Lute slipped from his casual lean, falling to the floor. Mr. and Mrs. McGucket stared at Angie in shock.

“O-oh,” Mrs. McGucket mumbled. Mr. McGucket swallowed.

“Angie, we try not to pass judgement on you ‘n yer siblin’s lives, but you’ve only been datin’ Stan fer a few months. To become pregnant with his child-”

“It’s not Stan’s,” Angie said quickly. Mrs. McGucket covered her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. “It’s Max’s. I didn’t know it, but I was a couple weeks along when I left.”

“Shit,” Lute swore, getting to his feet. His face contorted with rage. “He- he just had to get the last word, didn’t he?”

“Yer keepin’ it?” Mr. McGucket asked softly. Angie nodded. “I see.” He looked at his wife. “Sally?”

“Yes, dear.” Mrs. McGucket took Angie’s hand. “Come with me, sweetling. I need to ask ya a few questions.”

“Okay.” Angie allowed Mrs. McGucket to lead her away. Stan and Lute looked at Mr. McGucket, confused.

“What’s that about?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket took off his glasses and polished them.

“We were plannin’ on havin’ Sally ask Angie a few questions in private, due to the sensitive nature of her breakup with Max.”

“You mean-” Stan started. Mr. McGucket nodded and put his glasses back on. Lute frowned.

“What?”

“Your mom is asking Angie if her ex-husband beat her,” Stan said flatly. Lute’s jaw dropped. “He didn’t, by the way. Angie’s told me everything that her dick of an ex did to her. Max treated her like she was made of glass and tried to control her near the end, but he didn’t lay a finger on her.”

Except for when he tried to keep her from leaving and grabbed her hard enough to bruise. But Angie had sworn Stan to secrecy in that regard. She knew her family would go scorched earth if they found out, which she didn’t want.

“Stanley, she might still be uncomfortable tellin’ ya somethin’ that she’d feel more comfortable tellin’ her mother,” Mr. McGucket said gently. He glowered. “Especially…”

“What?” Lute asked.

“With this new information ‘bout Max gettin’ her pregnant, we have to consider the possibility that Angie didn’t…” Mr. McGucket closed his eyes. “We need to make sure Angie consented to the events what caused her to get pregnant and that Max didn’t, ah, counteract any attempts Angie made to prevent a pregnancy.” Lute shook his head.

“No, Pa. Max, he- he turned out to be a real poor excuse of a person, but he wouldn’t have done anything like that to Angie. And if he’d even tried, Angie wouldn’t have tolerated it.”

“Hon, yer sister is very strong, but strong people can find themselves strugglin’ in a sit’ation like Angie was in,” Mr. McGucket said. “I also don’t think that Max would have done that to Angie. But we can’t ignore that possibility.”

“It’s smart,” Stan said after a moment. “Gotta cover all your bases.”

“Yes.” Mr. McGucket looked at Stan carefully. “So, yer fine with raisin’ another man’s child?”

“Yep. Angie and I talked it out ages ago.” Stan grinned, glad for the change in topic. “I’ve already started stocking up on stuff for the kid.”

“Yer the one what burgled all those baby stores?” Lute asked. Stan nodded. “Where have ya been puttin’ the stuff?”

“My apartment. But now that you all know, I can finally start moving it here. Thank god. I can barely see my bed.”

“Y’know, if yer goin’ to be with Angie fer the long haul and help her raise her child,” Mr. McGucket said idly, “maybe ya should just move in with her.” Stan stared at him.

“Pa, Angie’s the one who should offer that, not you,” Lute said, rolling his eyes. Mr. McGucket chuckled.

“Yer right, yer right.” He clapped Stan on the shoulder. “Are ya excited to be a dad?” Stan’s grin broadened.

“Yeah. I am. I know it’s gonna be tough and stressful, but I’m looking forward to holding the kid for the first time.” Mr. McGucket beamed.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“What a coincidence,” Angie said. Stan turned. Angie and her mother had returned. She smiled at Stan. “That’s what I like to hear, too.”

-----

“It’s a boy!” the doctor said. Stan looked over. The newborn in the doctor’s arms was tiny and covered in body fluids Stan didn’t want to think about. The doctor handed the baby to a nearby nurse.

“Hey, uh, where are you taking him?” Stan asked. Angie chuckled.

“Stanley, relax. They’re just cleanin’ him up,” she said wearily.

“Oh. Right.” Stan grinned at Angie. “Got caught up in the moment.” Angie laughed again.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Uh…” Stan checked his watch. “Two in the morning.”

“Geez.” Angie yawned. “No wonder I’m so tired. I was in labor fer ten hours.” Angie had gone into labor yesterday afternoon, prompting Stan to call out of the bank job he was supposed to help with. “Is yer hand all right?”

“I’ve had worse,” Stan said. He’d been by Angie’s side throughout the labor, providing his hand for her to squeeze when she had a particularly bad contraction. “So, was this a good labor or-”

“It went about as smoothly as it could,” said the nurse, who had come back with the baby. “Honestly, I haven’t seen a labor and birth this free from complications in a while.”

“Good,” Angie said sleepily. “Is my boy ready?”

“Yes, he is. Here you go. He’s perfectly healthy.” The nurse carefully deposited the baby in Angie’s arms. “I’ll give you three some time to get to know each other.”

“Thank you,” Angie said. The nurse left. Angie carefully parted the folds of the blanket, revealing her son. “He’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

“He’s really tiny,” Stan said. “Are babies always that tiny?”

“Newborns are usually pretty small, but this lil feller is definitely smaller ‘n average,” Angie answered. She stroked her son’s cheek. The baby shifted slightly and opened his eyes. Stan smiled.

“He’s got your peepers.”

“He might not.”

“Uh, he’s got blue eyes.”

“Sometimes, babies are born with blue eyes, only fer the eyes to turn brown later on.” Angie smiled. “He’s got the fam’ly nose, though.”

“And he’s bald.”

“Mm-hmm.” Angie’s eyes slowly closed. “He’s perfect.”

“What are you gonna name him?” Stan asked.

“Shh, later,” Angie mumbled. Stan carefully took the baby from her. He kissed her forehead. Angie smiled.

“Get some sleep. You’ve earned it.”

-----

“Stanley?” Stan opened his eyes. He looked at the hospital bed. Angie was awake.

“Hey, babe.” Stan stretched. After Angie had fallen asleep, she’d been taken from the delivery room to her own private room. Stan had set up camp in the chair by her bed and fallen asleep. “How are you doing?”

“Less tired.” Angie looked around. “Where’s the baby?”

“I had him go to the nursery so we could both get some sleep.”

“Ah. Smart.”

“They asked what his name was, but I didn’t know what you were planning on, so they just put him down as Baby McGucket.” Stan grinned. “Which, honestly, isn’t half bad of a name.” Angie laughed.

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest name in my fam’ly. But it ain’t the name I’ve got in mind.”

“What is?”

“You’ll see,” Angie said with a grin. Stan chuckled.

“Making me wait. I see how it is.” He stood up. “Be right back, I’ve gotta go pee.”

-----

When Stan got back to Angie’s hospital room, she was holding the baby. Stan walked over to her bed.

“Yer middle name is Stanford, right?” Angie asked him.

“Uh, yeah. Fuck Pops for doing that to me.”

“Love, there ‘re young ears in hearin’ range,” Angie said gently. “No swearin’ ‘round the baby.”

“…Right.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “Why’d you need my middle name? Oh, I was gonna sign the birth certificate.”

“No need. Birth certificate is all done,” Angie said. Stan frowned.

“But who’d you put down as the dad?”

“I left it blank.” Angie looked down at her son in her arms. “I didn’t- I know that yer happy to be raisin’ this lil bean now, but I didn’t want to chain ya to a child what ain’t yours. Just in case.”

“Ang…”

“I don’t want ya to feel trapped,” Angie said quietly. Stan’s eyes widened. He put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve felt that way. I wouldn’t wish it on someone I love.”

“You’re too good for me,” Stan said. Angie managed a watery chuckle. “If I’m not signing the birth certificate, why’d you need to know my middle name?”

“Well…” Angie smiled. “Hold out yer arms.” Stan did as he was told. Angie carefully handed the baby over. “Meet Stanley Stanford McGucket.”

“Wh-” Stan stared at Angie. “That’s- that’s my name.” Angie nodded. Stan swallowed. “It’s- it’s a good name,” he choked out.

“You’ve been there fer me through all of this. It’s the only name what feels right fer the lil bean.”

“I…” Stan stared down at the baby named after him. “He really is a little bean.” Angie laughed.

“I was thinkin’ we could call him Junior. He ain’t Stan Pines Junior at the moment, but if we get married, he will be. And since yer already named Stan…”

“Yeah, I’d be pretty confused if I heard Lute say he changed Stan’s dirty diaper,” Stan said dryly. Angie laughed again. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I’ve got my two boys with me. How could I not be?” Angie asked. Junior shifted in Stan’s arms. Stan smiled down at him.

“Hey, bud,” he whispered. Junior watched him curiously. “I’m not the one who got your mama pregnant. But I’m the one who’s gonna take care of you. Got it?” Junior giggled. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Stan sat down in the chair he’d slept in, still staring at Junior. “Sweet Moses. I’m- I’m a dad.”

“Only if ya want to be,” Angie said. Stan looked at her.

“I just told Junior that I’m gonna be his dad. He understood. You didn’t?”

“All right, all right,” Angie said, holding her hands up in surrender. “All right. Yer a dad. Yer Junior’s dad.

“Damn straight.”

“Language.”

“Right.” Stan settled back in his chair. “These isn’t the Halloween I had in mind, but-”

“Pardon?”

“Ang, you went into labor yesterday, on October 30th,” Stan said. “Today’s Halloween.” Angie burst into laughter. “What?”

“It’s just- I was born on April Fool’s Day. It feels appropriate fer my son to be born on Halloween.” Stan held up a finger.

“Nuh-uh. Our son was born on Halloween.” He grinned. “I’m gonna throw Junior the best birthday parties.” A comfortable silence fell. “I kinda like how quiet it is right now.”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Angie warned. “My entire fam’ly is headin’ over. It’ll get loud real fast.” The door slammed open.

“Where’s my new nephew?” Lute crowed. Angie looked at Stan.

“See?”

#for reals tho if people are curious about Junior pls send asks #we've come up with a lot of stuff for him already #and I'm eager to share information about him #he is a good boy and precious bean #Best Revenge AU #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Lute McGucket #Pa McGucket #Ma McGucket #McGucket Family #Stangie #Stangie Family #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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frustratedpker · 4 years

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“First day” [PKNA fic]

My first official fic, Camera 9 centered of course!

I told you I‘d do it! And I did it! Thank you wonderful humans for encouraging me to write this (you know who you are ♥)!

I ‘ll soon post it on AO3 once my account is set up! It’s my first time writing in english so please have mercy.

Summary: Camera 9′s first day at Chanel 00 from Stefan’s POV / Rating: Approved for all audiences / Words: 1829

His first day hadn't been bad so far.

Well, it hadn't been great either.

He had done some takes, visited a few locations, done a few scoops, nothing extreme, nothing he wasn't already used to. Also, he really liked -although he felt a little bit guilty for it- his new gear. It was the latest technology with really interesting functions. Still, nothing like his good ol' reliable camera, but since the Chanel provided it for free... Plus, this time he didn't have to carry the camera around. At least not with his hands.

Some colleagues had tried to talk to him earlier, probably curious about this quiet, new recruit but their friendliness and willingness to keep the conversation going had eventually faded mostly due to Stefan's laconic answers.

But what was he going to tell them?

That he had some canned beans for breakfast and a whole life to keep secret? That, after his shift ended, he would go back to an almost empty apartment?

Anyway, it didn't matter anymore. It was lunch break and everyone was too busy unwrapping sandwiches and catching up to the day's gossips. Stefan looked around. The Chanel 00 office room was buzzing with chatting reporters, stressed archivist and complaining technicians, all gathered in small groups around their desks. Many were leaving the room in twos and threes to go grab a coffee from the nearby shops.

Stefan had thought of going too, but quickly dismissed the idea. After all, he had already ate his lunch an hour ago when he took his break. The deserted and quiet alley in the side of the building had been more to his liking than any cramped main street coffee shop. At least he wasn't required to talk to the stray cats there. Or take off his gear.

Going back to the cameramen room wasn't an option either. They would all be gathered there, talking loudly and telling bad jokes, sharing the mishaps of the day. No doubt they'd notice him and start asking questions. Questions Stefan wouldn't be able to -or even want to- answer at this particular moment. Or any moment to be precise.

“I'm Stefan, I just moved here after I got this job, I'm from Northern Calisota”. Stefan had well rehearsed this speech the night before but the will to actually use it had significantly decreased from the moment he went to bed - if his plain mattress could be called a bed. He now found this absolute anonymity as a great comfort, standing silently next to the wall of the crowded room. A lot of time had passed since he had been absolutely unknown. He was actually grateful that no one had asked. That he, hadn't given them any chances to do so. Unprompted friendliness wasn't something that he could deal with at this moment.

He, himself, had still so many loose ends to tie. It was only a week after all since he had arrived at Duckburg, found his apartment and this job. He was sure that he would get used to this new life sooner or later. But not just yet.

Ideally, he would have waited a month or so to settle down before finding any job. Just give himself enough time to discover the area, make his apartment look a bit more like a home, finally put his thoughts in order. Oh, so much had happened. But the bill wasn't going to pay itself and he had enough of canned beans. In addition, if he wanted to start over, he would have to move on. Even if it meant forcing himself to go out there.

That's how he, a stateless ex-photographer, found himself in an urgent need of a job when the Chanel 00 found itself in an urgent need of cameramen.

And it also happened that Stefan was more than just qualified for the job.

So, there he was! Monday morning, in the Chanel 00's crowded office room, also qualifying as a wall decoration after all this time he had been standing there.

Dan, the Chanel's director had asked him to wait for a moment before he assigned him his next task. He had vanished in the long corridor since and ten minutes had already passed.

So, Stefan could do nothing but awkwardly wait as reporters and errand boys would come and go. He had gotten some side glances and curious looks but no one had approached him. It didn't surprise him as he was the only cameraman in the room and also still wearing his gear.

That was another reason he liked it. He felt quite at ease with his face hidden by his helmet. Sure, he heard the other cameramen complain about headaches all the time but that wasn't his case. At this particular moment where he felt like a fish out of water, this physical barrier between him and the world was oddly comforting. Like a safe space where his thoughts could roam free. Plus, the dark glasses gave him the chance to observe without being seen, a fact that he found highly amusing. He wondered how many of his colleagues knew that the brunette reporter -Helen wasn't it?- was secretly dating Ross from the tech department or that the tall anchorman was stealing others' pens when they weren't looking. Oh boy! And that was only his first day! Stefan smiled.

But where was Dan? It must have been fifteen minutes since he had left. Of course, he was the director. Anything could have come up, anything was more important than an insignificant cameraman in his first day. He nervously looked around. Should he wait some more? Should he go? But what if he went away and then Dan couldn't find him? Should he go find his boss, was that appropriate? Should he go and wait somewhere else? Oh God, not in the cameramen room! Would the other reporters think of him as an idiot, waiting without moving a finger for this long? Stefan sighed and tried to ignore that he was getting more anxious by the minute.

Thankfully, Dan appeared in the end of the corridor. Stefan relaxed as he saw the director coming towards him holding a bunch of papers which he presumed were the details of the next scoop. He was ready to make a step forwards when a voice interrupted him.

“Oh, Dan! There you are”

A tall, blonde woman appeared out of nowhere and approached the director with a quick step. She was holding some record papers which at once got Dan to examine under her worried gaze.

Stefan hadn't seen her before. She was wearing a white shirt and a pink blazer with matching pants. Her long hair was styled in a messy bun. An anchorwoman? That was possible. Stefan noticed the pens arranged in her shirt's pocket and the handwritten notes visible in the papers she was holding. A journalist? That was more likely. But why was she still working during lunch break?

The woman's gaze shifted from Dan to Stefan.

“Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt!”, she apologized with a nervous smile.

“It's fine”, Stefan said, realizing that this was the first time he had spoken in hours. Whatever these two were doing must surely be more important anyway.

The woman had left Dan to read the notes by himself and was now looking straight at him with a curious air. Stefan did his best to hide how awkward he felt while her gaze was examining him, head to toes. As if she was scanning him. She didn't look intimidating though, perhaps even sweet.

“Are you new here?”, she asked with a smile.

“Yes”, was all that Stefan could mutter.

There came the questions! He wished Dan could read fast enough so he could get his next scoop assigned and just go.

“Well then, welcome to Chanel 00! Perhaps we 'll get to work together sometime, I'm a reporter”.

She balanced her papers under her arm and extended her hand.

“I'm Lyla Lay”

Stefan reluctantly shook it.

And now to the dreaded part! It was time to introduce himself, he couldn't avoid it anymore. Somehow the speech he had rehearsed seemed so stupid now. Would she be okay with just a first name? She had given her last name so he probably ought to give his too. She had been really polite after all. But wouldn't she recognize him? As if anyone would remember him... Why was this making him so nervous?

Dan, who had meanwhile finished skimming through the notes, interpreted the silence and decided to spare his colleague from the new weirdo's shenanigans.

“Well Lyla, that's our new cameraman St-”

“Camera 9!”, interrupted Stefan firmly.

Yes, it finally clicked. That sounded so much better. He had started to like this number. Although a little bit taken aback, Lyla nodded politely.

“Nice to meet you then Camera 9! I look forward to working with you!”, she said as sweetly as she could and then turned to Dan to take back her papers, “are we alright with this?”.

Dan nodded. Lyla shuffled her papers, greeted them and disappeared as quickly as she had come, leaving them alone. Stefan looked at her direction for a bit, listening to her footsteps fade away. This one seemed a little better than the others working in the Chanel. Maybe a little too friendly but still professional and polite. It wasn't out of gossip that she had spoken to him. At least she had noticed him...

“Are you even listening Camera 9?”, Dan violently brought him back to reality by snapping his fingers in front of him. How he hated when people did that...

Dan gave him the details and left him alone in the now empty office room. Stefan took out his helmet. His coworkers were right, it does get heavy after a while. He would have to get used to it. One more scoop and he would be able to go home.

Now, whom was he assigned with? The reporters he had met so far weren't necessarily bad, just... indifferent to work with. The only good thing about them was that they were snob enough to leave him alone. Maybe he had been assigned with this Lay woman. He had already met her so he wouldn't have to worry about it. Still, she had seemed rather chatty and Stefan wasn't sure if he had enough energy for this right now.

Stefan's eyes reached the bottom of the page. Ah yes, there was the name. He hadn't met this reporter yet, although -even in those brief hours- he had heard his name being yelled across the corridors. He folded the paper, placed it in his front pocket and put his helmet back on. One more scoop... One more scoop and he could go back to his apartment to enjoy some canned beans in the quiet of his empty living room.

After all, how bad could this Angus guy be?

#I wanted so much to share this #my fic #fic #pkna #Camera 9 #stefan vladuck

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streets-in-paradise · 4 years

Text

Roadside Bet

American Gods and Percy Jackson crossover - Part 1

Word Count: 1767

Characters: Wednesday, Shadow, Eira ( Vanir demigoddess OC)

Relationships: Platonic.

Summary: Setted in season 1 of American Gods. Mr Wednesday takes his crew on a trip to New York hoping to recruit a powerful ally. Shadow starts asking questions about him and his curiosity unleashes a silly argument.

Warnings: Some ageists jokes, the camp half blood concept from Percy Jackson is interpreted in American Gods’s style.

Disclaimers: This serves as an introduction for my self indulgent attempt of writing fanfic including Sean Bean as Zeus in the American Gods universe. I couldn’t find fiction for Sean Bean’s Zeus and he’s so fine that I can't deal with it so I decided to include him in an idea I had previously in process for an American Gods fanfic. I apologise for any possible mistakes,english is not my native language and this is a translation.

Tags: @yerevasunclair. Our conversations about Sean’s Zeus inspired this. I’m tagging you in both parts. Thank you so much for the inspiration.

I hope you ‘ll enjoy this. Thanks for reading

With the exception of Wednesday's bad mood, the trip was not having any major setbacks. The old man was quite unbearable because he hated New York and its exorbitant modernity, but he knew that this was a trip he was obliged to take. If he closed the deal he set out to make, he would gain a powerful ally, perhaps the most powerful one available.

With only a few miles to go, he switched places with Shadow because he wanted to drive to relieve stress. Meanwhile, to alleviate the boredom during the break, he started to chat with Eira. The girl was sprawled out in the back seat listening to music on an old MP3 player dating from 2002. Shadow signaled her to take off a headset and pay attention to him. Listening to them, Mr. Wednesday rebuked her

“I told her to get rid of every modern toy before following us but she never listens. Eira!! Turn that rubbish off before I destroy it myself.”

“ Chill out, old man. This is ancient history technologically speaking. It doesn’t have wifi connection, or bluetooth, or anything. Nobody can try to track us through this, even the boy must have forgotten these things existed. It’s as safe as your car’s radio.” she replied in a tone that showed annoyance.

Shadow laughed, always amused to see the boss and his new co-worker arguing as a family. Wanting to pry into what she was hearing, he reached out to grab the earpiece she had taken out of her ear and placed it over his.

“ What’s that language? Greek, I think? “ he commented about the music

“Yeah, it 's greek. I’m getting ready for our next stop.” she explained.

“ Greeks? After what I experienced with the russians some time ago i thought we were going to New York to have a meeting with the japanese mafia or something like that. All your business partners seem to have a thing with extremely violent threats. “ he complained

“Don’t be so harsh with Bogo. Most people think he is scary and disgusting but i think he is great. He may be a bit of a psycho weirdo, he makes meat uncomfortable for everyone and sometimes he throws his cigarette smoke in your face but he is a very fun dude “

“ Bogo? Did you nicknamed him? He is a serial murderer who wants my head. “

“ We both live in Chicago, my mom tends to know everyone there and everyone knows her. I know him since i was a child, he is like a grumpy grandpa to me.”

That statement left him a bit shocked. Mainly because he did not imagine Czernobog being friendly to anyone or even being seen as friendly.

“ Do you know the greeks? “ he asked, taking the opportunity to prepare for what was to come

“ No, I never had the pleasure, that’s why I'm so excited. They do their own stuff by themselves, they don’t tend to be very cooperative with the rest. Need is what pushed everyone else to start cooperating and created the unstable bonds of solidarity you had seen so far. They have their own functional system, they don’t need help from anyone. Even if they were struggling i doubt they would ask for it or accept it.”

“ Very secretive people. How will we convince them to join Mr Wednesday? “

“ Let that to me, dear boy.” the boss interrupted . ”They never pick a side, not with us and not with the News. They are always pretending they are better than everyone else in that fake copy of their Olympus they made to themselves when all they actually have is a bunch of brats. If the big conflict starts they will have to choose one side and that’s where we enter.”

“I’m very curious about them "she added .” Their strategy is fascinating. They have a family business that keeps them standing for a very long time in conditions others would only dream to have. They adapted by being themselves without selling to the News.”

” So, greek mafia then? ” Shadow asked,curious and worried in equal amounts.

” Never call them like that ever again. That’s very insulting and they are famous for being very arrogant and easy to irritate. Theo will carbonize you if he hears you calling him a mob boss. ”

” Theo is their boss? He is the one we are visiting? ”

” That’s how we call him, nobody dares to use his full name in casual conversation so we picked a middle ground epithet between his tradition and ours. Names are powerful, Shadow. You don’t have to use them in vain. ” Eira explained. ” Honestly, I'm very excited to meet someone so powerful. Most of the still strong names out there had given up and sold their brands to the News but Theo and his people are still successful. They are living the lifestyle of the Old Country, or at least the closest copy they can get in America. Wednesday is salty because he was never able to agrupate our kind in a similar project. My work for him is the closest thing he got, I’m one of the very few children of his associates who got invested and that’s only because my mother kept me with her. I’m not precisely the rule, that’s why practically i grew up to be here now. ”

Shadow started to get severly worried .The repeated comment about the power of the people who were going to see kept him on his toes. He didn't want to get into any more trouble.

” Do you want to give me a list of stuff to avoid when facing this Theo? I’m starting to freak out a bit and I don't understand a shit of what you are saying except for “ he is powerful”. ” he asked her

” Don’t worry i will be there with you the whole time and i have more experience dealing with this sort of thing than you. Wednesday should have brought you to my mother’s home first instead of going straight to the russians when you visited our city. Don’t be scared, if you screw it up i will help you out”.

Wednesday did not missed the chance to give his own advice as well

” The best for both of you is to keep your mouths shut as much as you can. “ he warned. ”Smile, nod in agreement, answer only what it’s being asked of you in the moment. This goes especially for you, young lady. ” he concluded in an imperative tone.

” Why the sudden care? You didn’t when we were visiting others. Are you afraid of him? ” she teased.

” Never, how could you suggest that? I’m restraining you because I don't want you to shift the focus of our negotiation. Theo has a weakness for youthful maidens like you.” he replied, scolding her again.

” Then I should be the one negotiating with him.Wouldn’t be easier to convince him? ”

” They don’t make him particularly weak, they are his favourite distraction. He enjoys himself when they get affected by his charm. Our business is the war and nothing more. Less you talk, less chances of distracting him too much.”

Shadow was getting some entertainment with the discussion and intervened to give his opinion

” He doesn’t want this guy doing to you what he does to other women. ”he stated, mocking Wednesday. ” He wouldn’t admit it but he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see some horny old dude around you, thirsting over you and making you feel uncomfortable.”

” My concern is not her safety, it’s her loyalty what troubles me. She works for me, she represents me. I don’t want her to forget it in front of him.”

” Wednesday, he is older than you. ” Eira complained, trying to make him understand how ridiculous he sounded. ” Why would i care about him flirting with me? I’ll smile at him, pretend i’m pleased with his commentaries to keep him happy enough for you to close the deal and that’s all. It’s not the first time it happened, i’m used to casual flirting. Mad Sweeney had done it the few times we had seen each other, some others associates of yours do it sometimes. The people we see tend to get flirty, Shadow has experienced it as well. It’s part of the job. ”

” Mad Sweeney is a drunk loser, we are talking of real power here. Watch your steps and don’t embarrass me.” Wednesday insisted.

Shadow couldn’t stop laughing

” Is he truly afraid you would be seduced by a man older than him? He has to be kidding, he is one of the oldest men i ever meet so how old is the greek ? 95?”

” I may not be into the Technical Boy despite being closer in age terms to him than to most of the dudes we had dealt with but that doesn’t mean i’m into senior citizens. A middle ground is good, thanks. ” she joked, joining the mockery.

” You two are too young to understand some very important aspects of how things work here. I’m warning you before it’s too late.” Wednesday replicated.

” Whatever, thanks for the advice. I will have it in mind the next time an irresistable senior citizen shows up.You don’t know anything about my tastes in men and you are projecting your own crap on me. You may have a thing for girls of my age but not all of us get horny for grandpas. Some do and i don’t judge them but i’m not one of them.”

” Wait and see. ” the old man replied in the same mocking tone. ” I would like to bet. I did it when Shadow fought the leprechaun, now it’s your turn. ”

” We don’t have anything of value you may want.He just got out of jail and it’s not like mom would give me her Brisingamen just because i lost a bet to you. ”

” Shadow, are you in? ” the boss asked

” What would i win? ”

” If Eira feels condescendingly repulsed by the greek i double your weekly pay. If he charms her i discount a percentage .”

” If she doesn’t feel attracted to an old greek you duplicate my pay? Sure, i’m in. it is a safe bet, right?” he asked her

” He talks bullshit, i’m not interested. Go ahead.” she assured him

” I had never been happier standing in the middle of your silly fights. ”

The youngsters spent the rest of the trip making fun of Wednesday's ridiculous bet, sure they were going to win. The old man laughed in their faces, he was playing with them again.

Note: Theo is a name with two possible etymological origins, one greek and one germanic. A long time ago i read a theory that said the greek form Deos was associated with Zeus. I recently read that wasn’t the case but i still found it fitting for Zeus.

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ba-responds · 5 years

Text

Catharsis (Villain!Deku x Fem!Reader) Chapter Eight

A/n: Sorry this is coming out later than expected. I stayed over a guy friend’s house for like 3 days this week, then it was a friend’s birthday, so I’ve been busy. This is the last pre-written chapter, and I’ve already started on the next! Enjoy. P.S. I kinda feel bad for Bakugo in this chapter...damn.

This story will contain dark themes! Please read the warning!

Summary: An unexpected death of a loved one can lead to a sudden influx of emotions. Those same emotions can become repressed, as denial and disbelief comes into play. In this time, one would seek a means of catharsis, a release from those strong, repressed emotions. But what would you do if that means of catharsis, the same release you sought so hard for, becomes addicting? To the extent, that you feel you can not live without it? What if it can’t live without you? **WARNING: This story MAY contain; bullying, suicide, depression, torture, manipulation, mentions of sexual assault, and MORE! You have been warned.

Masterlist

Prologue II Chpt 1 II Chpt 2 II Chpt 3 II Chpt 4 II Chpt 5 II Chpt 6 II Chpt 7 II Chpt 8 II Check Masterlist for more!

Chapter Eight: Missing Persons and Panic Attacks

“----Swear to fucking…..’ll beat your dumb ass...ce of shit…”

You groaned as you slowly opened your eyes, not exactly ready to wake up. The cursing you woke up to continued, along with the music of what sounded like an old video game. Eyes adjusting to the dark room you were in, the first thing you spotted was jean-clad legs and a dark t-shirt, less than an inch away from your face. Smiling instantly, you snuggled deeper into the lap your head was rested on, breathing in the owner’s sweet scent. You heard a light chuckle, before a hand stroked down the back of your head, their thumb caressing the side of your face. You basked in the attention, peeking up at Izuku with a loving smile. He stared back down at you, his face mirroring the love you knew was on your face. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“How was your nap, love?” He muttered, using his forefinger to tilt your head up so he could see your full face.

“Perfect,” you whispered back sweetly, moving your body so you were laying on your back, head still resting in his lap. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a gravelly, angered voice.

“Stop with all that shit, and play the fucking game,” Shigaraki hissed, glaring at you and Izuku, then snapping his head back to the small television screen in the corner of the room. You sat up as Izuku took his attention off of you and back to the game like Shigaraki wanted. Stretching you arms above your head, you groaned lightly, body feeling stiff from the slightly awkward position you took a nap in. The three of you were sitting on the bare wooden floors as the two boys wanted to be closer to the T.V. they were playing the game on. As the boys continued playing the co-op game, you silently took in the room once your eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, smiling lightly to yourself.

The square room was pretty cluttered, the gray concrete walls holding shelves of books and games, along with some odd, clearly stolen knick knacks; the floor had heaps of old snack wrappers in weird places, clothes filling in the gaps in-between; the queen size bed was pushed into the far left corner, the foot of the bed holding piles of written journals. There was a T.V. and a T.V. stand in the far right corner, the storage space under it holding a couple gaming consoles; a dresser and vanity next to it, more random clutter on top of each.

Despite the mess, you loved it. It was your new shared room with your love.

Your new home.

It was completely different from what your old home used to be; instead of the attempt at making the place feel homey and clean like your parents did, Izuku seemed to just want a place in which he can be himself.

Your parents.

It was hard to think of them. There was a ball of guilt constantly sitting in the bottom of your stomach because of them.

They’ve lost a daughter, just like you lost Izuku; However, this time, there was no body to bury.

Block it out.

You had claimed one specific corner of the room, the front left corner, filling it with your small amount of belongings; which consisted of a few books, your empty backpack from school (all of the schoolbooks and work haven been thrown out due to needlessness), a jacket courtesy of Izuku, and a spare bean bag chair. The room was bathed in the light of the neon colors on the T.V. screen, casting everything into a weird tone of blue and white.

Blue and white.

Better than red.

An image popped into your head. A Designer t-shirt and ripped jeans. Brightly colored, sneakers. Coily black hair, and dark brown skin. Brown eyes.

Red.

Block it out.

Rolling your neck to release some of the tension, you fiddle with the new black collar around it. The collar was pretty thick and a bit heavy; it being almost two inches wide, made out of a lightweight metal of some type along with a tubing of some sort. It was a present from Izuku the day you got here, nearly 3 weeks ago. At first it was rather uncomfortable, the metal at times restricting the angle in which you could tilt your head, and it often caused your neck to become sore from the added weight. You had quickly gotten used to it though, after it was put into good use.

The purpose of the collar was to ‘keep you and Izuku connected’. Instead of having to wrap, what you now called his ‘shadows’, around your neck constantly to ‘connect’ with you, he could instead put some in storage in the tubing on your collar, so that you constantly felt him like on the day he found you, and vice versa.

However, the feeling wasn’t as close to the day he first wrapped his shadows around your neck. While you could feel a bit of the burning pleasure from the collar, it wasn’t nearly as intense and discombobulating. At times, you craved the disorientating jolts, begging Izuku when the two of you were alone to connect himself to you once again, much to his pleasure. But, as is, you could only feel the slightest bit of feelings, it increasing and decreasing depending on how far the two of you are to each other.

Standing, you went over to your corner, picking up Izuku’s laptop on the way. Plopping down on the bean bag chair, you went to open the laptop, but paused before doing so. You knew it was against the rules Izuku set.

No phones. No laptops. No internet. No outside contact. No leaving. Not without his explicit permission.

“Izu, can I use your laptop really quick, please?” You called out, gaining the attention of your darling. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, a frown appearing on his face as his brows furrowed suspiciously. Shigaraki muttered angrily, mad that Izuku paused the game to answer you.

“Why?”

“I just wanna check the news. See what they’re saying about my disappearance,”

“Nobody fucking cares about you, let’s continue the game!” Shigaraki growled out, eyeing you as if he was tempted to murder you. You scowled back at him, sending him a cold glare.

You despised looking him in the eyes. Those red shits disgusting you to the core.

“Go ahead. No logging into any of your old social media, or anything that could possibly link you to this location,” Izuku said, rolling his eyes at you and Shigaraki’s behavior. You and Shigaraki never gotten along since you got here. He seemed slightly possessive of Izuku, due to Izuku being his only friend; and you hated someone trying to put claim to something that was clearly yours. Now, the two of you were forced to tolerate each other because of Izuku, but that doesn’t mean you don’t annoy the other.

“Crusty bitch,” you muttered under your breath, loud enough that Izuku snorted out a laugh, but Shigaraki couldn’t hear you. Shigaraki’s head snapped to you suspiciously, growling through his teeth, before he turned back to the T.V.. You smirked to yourself smugly as you opened the laptop, it starting up automatically.

Opening up a web browser, you typed in the local news website. You hummed as you searched through the top stories, surprisingly you found a series of recent stories including your name. Clicking the first article link, it brought you to a story named:

U.A.’s Class 1-A Student Suspected To Be One of the Many Dead in Musutafu Attack.

Under the title, there was your U.A. ID picture, where you were smiling brightly at the camera, with dull (E/c) eyes. You cringed at the photo; you could almost see the weight on your chest, how you seemed to not even want to actually be there. This thought caused you to shift your gaze to Izuku.

He sat with his back mostly towards you; his eyes locked on the small t.v. screen; fingers flying across the gaming controller in his hands. His curly emerald hair framed his face in ways that made him look like an angel. His green eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark, held a sense of serene you haven’t seen since he was a child.

You suddenly felt your heart clench while looking at him. His every feature reminded you of one person.

Mama Midoriya.

Tears came to your eyes, as you looked back down at the news article, attempting to read it, but your mind was elsewhere.

“I wonder what Mama Midoriya is doing. She must be so...heartbroken.” you thought, body slumping back into the beanbag chair, your throat clenching at the thought.

You remember vividly what it felt like losing Izuku. The emptiness. The numbness.

The weight on your chest.

You could only imagine the pain that Mama Midoriya would be feeling now. After the loss of two children.

You still remember the way she trembled for weeks after Izuku’s disappearance. She had gotten grief sick, to the point in which she couldn’t physically leave her bed, she was constantly nauseated and couldn’t keep any food down. You had been her primary care-taker for the following months; barely even going home for more than 20 minutes during that time. You used to sleep on the floor of her bedroom, too...scared to sleep anywhere else.

You knew she was depressed; it was clear with the look in her eyes. The way she would stare blankly into space after all of her tears had dried up. The emptiness. After you would get back from school, you’d immediately go to the Midoriya household, kick off your shoes, and get started on making a late lunch for Mama Midoriya. You had to have gone through at least two cookbooks of recipes, trying to find anything that she would keep down. After giving her lunch, which would inevitably be regurgitated into a bucket that was kept at her bedside, you’d lay with her in her bed; snuggling close to her like you were a child fearing a nightmare. The both of you would just sit there for hours in silence, until the time came for you to start dinner.

Then one night, while you were fixing your makeshift bed of blankets on the floor at the foot of the bed, after tucking her in and asking how she felt, Mama Midoriya’s soft voice muttered with slight hesitance.

“It hurts.”

And that was what terrified you the most.

Those words.

The words that seemed to sum up how you felt since Izuku’s disappearance; that summed up how Mama Midoriya felt; and how Izuku felt before ‘taking’ his own life.

Those words seemed to symbolize one thing for you.

The lack of a will to live.

And the thought of losing someone else was worse than the weight on your chest.

So now, you could only imagine how much your disappearance would make her pain worse.

Block it out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bakugo let out a shaky huff, stretching out his aching fingers as he glanced around his room. His nodded his head to the beat of his music, it blaring loudly in his headphones. His body was slick with sweat, his chest heaving as he stretched his arms above his head, trying to cool down a bit more before continuing his workout. He suddenly dropped down onto his stomach, legs out straight, his hands placed on the ground shoulder-length apart. Letting out a deep breathe with each of his push-ups, he tilted his head up, staring straight ahead to where his open notebook was propped up, re-reading his notes from class.

This was the only way he could distract himself. Working out, and throwing himself into his school work. Maybe he would be able to tire himself out enough tonight to finally get some good rest.

His felt his phone vibrate near his hand, but decided to ignore it. If it didn’t interrupt his music, he didn’t care to see what it was.

“Inertial mass, the measure of an object’s inertia or….” he muttered to himself, red eyes flickering across the page. Finishing his 35th push-up, he paused, holding himself up on his forearms, and toes. He continued reading and muttering his notes to himself, before feeling his phone vibrate once again. Glancing at it in annoyance, he grabbed it with a roll of his eyes, pressing the button to display his lock-screen.

7 New Messages From: Shitty Hair.

3 Missed Calls From: Shitty Hair

Heaving a sigh, Bakugo sat up, unlocking his phone in the process. Upon opening the messaging app, the two things he noticed right away was the three dots indicating Kirishima was in the midst of typing a message, and a wall capital letters. Bakugo lazily scrolled up the messages, reaching the first unread one.

Shitty Hair: DUDE

1 Missed Call From Shitty Hair

Shitty Hair: BAKUGO, ANSWER THE PHONE

1 Missed Call From Shitty Hair

Shitty Hair: PLEASE

Shitty Hair: DID YOU SEE THE VIDEO?

Shitty Hair: IT’S ALL OVER THE INTERNET

1 Missed Call From Shitty Hair

Shitty Hair: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE

Shitty Hair: ARE YOU OKAY?

Brows furrowed in confusion, Bakugo ignored the incoming call from Kirishima once again, instead choosing to click over to one of the few social media apps he had. Eyeing the little red number in the corner of the screen that indicated all of his notifications from the app, he growled in slight confusion as the number continued to rise every few seconds, as if multiple people were tagging him in something.

Incoming Call From: Shitty Hair.

Ignoring the call once again, Bakugo scrolled down the newsfeed of the app, trying to find the so-called video that was ‘all over the internet’. Almost immediately, a video popped up on the feed, it having nearly a million shares, and only being posted an hour prior. The video had a sensitivity notification over it, preventing him from seeing the thumbnail of the video. The caption read:

I FUCKING KNEW U.A. WAS HIDING SOMETHING. SHARE BEFORE THEY TAKE THIS DOWN!

This immediately caught his interest. Clicking the option to show the video, he waited a second while the video loaded with a slightly disinterested look.

The video started off with someone’s lock screen as whoever the person was started screen-recording. Whoever it was, clicked on another app which pulled up another video, which they presumed to press play. The video that proceeded to play wasn’t in the greatest quality, with no sound, and an awkward angle. It showed a destroyed, empty alleyway, the only movement being the fluttering of an old newspaper on the ground. Debris littered the floor, the wall of a building seeming to be concave, blocking the exit of the alley.

Nothing happened for a few more seconds, causing Bakugo to roll his eyes. He eyed the timestamp in the corner of the video, it reading a date only a few weeks prior. The time of it being late morning. Something unsettled him about the video, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“This is probably one of those jump scare shits,” he muttered to himself, pressing the screen to exit the video, when suddenly there was more movement on the screen. What he saw almost took his breath away.

(Y/n) (L/n) fell onto screen, covered in cuts and blood. While her face couldn’t be seen from this angle yet, Bakugo immediately recognized her. She was still dressed in what could have been her U.A. uniform, but Bakugo couldn’t quite tell because of all the soot and blood covering her body. Her body trembled as she collapsed on her side, revealing her face and the tears falling down her cheeks. Covered in blood.

Bakugo couldn’t breathe now.

His chest tightened.

He knew why this video was unsettling now. He remembered the date.

He could barely focus on the video by now; the sight of the girl covered in blood and dirt will forever be engraved in his mind. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Not my fault.

Another figure stepped into frame. Green hair.

Deku.

Perfectly alive.

All Bakugo could hear is a high pitched ringing.

Dark Tentacles around her neck. Tightening. Choking.

Her petrified, shocked, pleading eyes.

Despite the video not having any sound, he could almost hear her scream.

Her terrified scream

“IT’S YOUR FAULT!”

Not my fault.

A crazed, insane grin.

He was going to kill her.

Not my fault.

One last attempt to escape.

She didn’t know. She didn’t know about him. She didn’t know like how Bakugo had claimed. She wasn’t a part of this. Not until she ran away from the school.

Not my fault.

Shadows.

A scream.

“YOU FUCKING MURDERER!”

Not my fault.

Nothing.

End of video.

The phone dropped out of his hands, his hands shaking. Wide red eyes stared at the space the phone previously was for a second more, before his body scrambled away from it. His head banged harshly against his desk, but he didn’t even wince. He wheezed as he tried to suck in air. It didn’t work.

Not my fault.

His shaky fingers gripped his chest, his nails digging into his skin as if that would alleviate the sudden pressure.

He couldn’t focus.

He couldn’t breathe.

His lungs burned for air.

Not my fault.

Bakugo’s eyes darted around the room. He didn’t realise how late it had gotten, well past his bedtime. Too dark.

His phone vibrated once again from an incoming call from Kirishima.

Not my fault.

There was a heavy weight on his chest.

“It hurts.”

#bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha izuku #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya imagine #villain!deku #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha imagines #mha x reader

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pbandjesse · 4 years

Text

Today was a good day. I am wearing my skeleton jumpsuit. Its a nice night. It does feel weirdly late. But its barely 730. It just gets darker earlier and earlier. But that's okay.

I slept a lot better last night. I put a different blanket on the bed and that, plus the weighted blanket, helped. I woke up and didnt feel as terrible. Still felt a little off but I was able to shake it pretty quick. James came and laid with me for a few minutes and that was really nice. He was doing the laundry though so he went to finish that up.

I got a shower and got dressed. I had a bagel and just enjoyed the morning. I played some animal crossing. Jess had an idea to make her house into an apartment and I loved that idea. But then I saw an example of someone doing something similar but making each room into multiple bedrooms and I loved that. So I decided to start work on that. I would jump back on and off the game all day when I would have a new idea. I ordered a bunch of things so I can keep working on it tomorrow but I am very pleased with the progress.

James had a video call with a former coworker from ships about the Nazi issue. Told the whole story. He is writing a paper I think? Im not entirely sure but I am glad someone is pulling all the stories together. I jumped in a few times from what I saw on the outside and the work I did contacting the news after. But soon enough James was done the call and he was making himself lunch.

I decided I wanted to go out. James needed a belt. And we needed a couple things from the grocery store. So I put my shoes and sweater on and off I went.

It was a nice grey fall day, but eventually the sun did come out and it was beautiful. Just what a nice day. I drove out to Savers and again the parking lot was wicked full?? I dont understand why because it wasnt even that busy inside? But I did have a nice time.

I got 3 belts. 2 for James and one for me. The one I got for me has a heart belt buckle. I also found a pretty sweet enamel mixing bowl and a pair of slippers very similar to my nice ll bean ones. I got them mostly as a back up just in case something happens to my nice ones. But I was excited about that.

I had a nice conversation with the cashier and that was nice. And then I headed out.

I went over to the grocery store. Had a good time walking around. Picking up the stuff we needed. I got a piece of cake. And then I went to get lunch.

I ate fries in my car and listened to a podcast and the sun started coming out. A beautiful day.

I drove home and actually had a lot of trouble bringing my stuff inside. I forgot to bring reusable bags and the plastic bags hurt my arm. But I got things inside. I unpacked and got things put away.

I opened the windows. And I had some of the cake I bought. I played a little animal crossing. And I watched videos. It has been a night night.

I worked on some sewing and talked to Jess more about the shop. She's going to buy the packing bags but I will have to get tissue paper and ribbon. I think mom might still have some I can steal. But beyond that we are on a good path. The totebags should be here on friday and I will work on logo and branding a little more. I feel good about our november 1st deadline.

Now I think I am going to go give myself a manicure. Finish the dishes. And just chill out. Tomorrow I have a class to take in the morning. And then I hope its just a nice day. For everyone! Goodnight!

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

15x05: Proverbs 17:3

Then:

I’m not crying, you’re crying!

Now:

(weeping in corner ---this is Steve Yockey’s last episode)

Black Forest, Colorado

Three young women on a Pinterest inspired LL Bean photoshoot getaway, toast to friendship and good times. Now that they’re done with college, two of them have found jobs and are on their way to subverting the new world order of underemployment. Ashley, the other friend, will be driving for Uber.

They all hear a noise outside the tent. Julie goes for more rum and gets yanked. The other one tries closing the tent but is also yanked. Cue Ashley’s screams!

At the bunker, Sam checks his messages to Cas. He’s been texting and texting but hasn’t heard anything back. I am emotional. Dean is going to bury that shit and not even tell his brother what happened? ARGH. Sam hides his phone pretty quick so it’s obvious that he knows something isn’t right --and he doesn’t needle his brother about it so he knows something REALLY isn’t right.

Dean’s back from a supply run and is back on his overcompensating with food bullshit. He eats a ghost pepper jerky bite and instantly regrets it. On the plus side, we get this:

Anyway, they’ve got a case.

*Dream Vision Alert*

Lucifer!Sam sits at a table in the bunker. Dean approaches from behind, draws the Colt, asks for forgiveness, and shoots Sam in the back of the head. Lucifer!Sam doesn’t die though. The wound heals and his eyes glow red. Lucifer!Sam scoffs at the idea that the Colt would kill him, adding, “we both knew it had to end this way.” Then fire consumes Dean.

Sam wakes in the Impala. Dean wants to know what’s up but Sam will only admit to a bad dream.

They reach Colorado and instead of their usual routine, Dean pulls out some old school tricks: Fish and Wildlife agents. They were babies! (But this is also just such a nice way to show HOW MUCH Sam and Dean have changed over the years. The story Chuck was telling in season one has changed so much --they are not the same anymore. And while Dean continues to repress his current issues (ala Cas), it’s clear that he’s not the same.)

They go in and talk with the sheriff.

(Also, this is yet another week using an actor that has been in a previous episode of Supernatural. I realize this does happen, but this actress played Tara, the hunter that helped Dean and Crowley find Cain and the First Blade--and the Mark of Cain.)

The sheriff doesn’t think these attacks are animal in nature. There’s one witness they can talk to. They head to the hospital to talk with her. They ask what she remembers. She flashes back to the forest. She’s running and a man/monster is chasing her. She’s reluctant to talk, but Dean assures her that they’ve heard it all. The man that killed her friends had claws and fangs. A werewolf. Dean tells the poor girl that monsters and werewolves are all real.

Dean gets a name. Sam points out that it wasn’t a full moon the night Ashley was attacked (Dean suggests pureblood), and Sam sets off to find an address.

They head to a cabin in the woods where Andy, the werewolf, lives with his brother, Josh. They’re isolated, reluctant to have visitors, don’t have a phone. Just as God intended. Sam and Dean leave.

Josh yells at Andy for not killing Ashley. I’m just loling all over the place. This melodramatic crazy is TOO much. Family of werewolves that hunt people. Their dad’s dead but it’s the family business. Reluctant younger brother...

The brothers check in at the Sleepy Bear Inn. (Have we mentioned HOW MUCH WE LOVE JERRY WANEK? It’s true!)

They’ve got Ashley under their protection. They need to go take care of “the lumberjack twins.” Sam wonders why this whole case seems too easy. Lololol. Ashley asks the brothers to stay with her until she falls asleep. Meanwhile, Andy and Josh are outside the motel ready to kill her.

Dean and Ashley talk about hunting. Dean says he likes his job --helping people. She asks if he ever wanted to be anything else: Jimi Hendrix. He says that so quickly. It breaks me a bit. But then he toes the company line. Ashley wondering how great life would be if it was all planned out. That makes Dean turn a little green. Poor bby.

Sam wakes Sleeping Beauty - I mean, Dean. He zonked out while Sam headed out to get food and while he was sleeping, Ashley disappeared.

Cut to Ashley who is astonishingly NOT DEAD YET. She’s tied up in a bloody slaughter room, though. The two werewolf bros burst in, mid argument. “This isn’t who we are,” Andy protests, his pure white, tucked-in sweater standing out sharply against the ACTUAL BLOOD SPATTERED WALL. (Like, seriously, guys. Get a cleaning service, at least. That can’t be sanitary.)

“This is exactly who we are,” Josh growls. Hoooo-boy.

Dean and Sam race back to the cabin and quickly follow Ashley’s screams to the slaughter room. Their approach causes the werewolves to scamper, but not very far. As they attempt to escape, the Winchesters and Ashley get ambushed in the main room. The two werewolves get the upper hand on Dean and Sam, and the werewolf with a taste for human flesh closes in on Dean, snarling. Andy picks up Dean’s dropped gun and points it at Sam. He stares between Sam and Josh in agony.

Andy shoots and kills his brother. “He turned into a monster,” Andy explains tearfully. “And I’m a monster too.” He turns the gun on himself, killing himself with one quick shot to the heart. (Jeez, always the heart in this season. It’s almost like it’s an important metaphor or something.)

“That was weird,” Dean says which is like a total UNDERSTATEMENT… But that doesn’t even come close to what happens next. Dean tries to comfort Ashley, who pushes away and…

…trips and falls right onto the antlers. BOOM. Ashley’s dead. Sam, Dean, and pretty much every single one of us viewers stares at Ashley’s body in shock and confusion. That’s…not…normal. Also, this episode is only half over. WTF?

“Well, this is a bitch,” Ashley grumbles, opening her eyes and standing up, still impaled. She cheerfully flashes her eyes white at Sam. She’s LILITH, baby!

Lilith has clearly never made friends with the phrase “Loose lips sink ships” because she spills E V E R Y T H I N G. Chuck pulled her out of the Empty (where she was dead as a demon doornail), gave her instructions to seduce Dean post-rescue, told her to show Sam and Dean the werewolf murder/sacrifice mirror, and sent her to retrieve the magic gun: Ye Olde Equalizer.

The Winchesters try to fight Lilith, but she blasts them into the walls, knocking Sam out. Dean promises Lilith the gun as long as Sam’s okay. Same old song and dance, my friends. But now we get the feeling that Dean’s SEEING THE SCRIPT even while he’s still feeling utterly trapped by it.

Sam has another vision while he’s power healing through his latest concussion. This time, Dean’s out to kill a human Sam. Dean, under the influence of the Mark of Cain, murders his brother with the first blade. When Sam wakes, the cabin is empty.

In the Impala, Lilith is sitting about two feet away from the equalizer gun - still hidden in the glove box- and amusedly answers Dean’s questions. She’s massively irked that she’s back on Earth as part of Chuck’s latest story…when the story she THOUGHT her death was integral to was foiled by the Winchesters. It’s adding insult to injury, man. “Wouldn’t it be great if everything was just planned out for you?” she repeats and then laughs right in Dean’s face. Chuck fed her that line directly.

Lilith chirpily comments on Chuck’s storytelling propensity and his hamfisted werewolf brother foreshadowing. “It always ends the same,” she tells Dean. “One brother killing the other.”

Back at the motel, I am still UTTERLY DAMN CHARMED at the Wanek crew’s amazing work on this room.

For Please Come Decorate My House Science:

Dean tells Lilith that she’ll NEVER get the gun and she starts to slice him bit by bit. It’s the death of a thousand cuts!

Sam breaks in and shoots Lilith in the forehead without another word. He traps her in place with a devil’s trap bullet. “I’ve got you now, my pretty!” Sam should have shouted (but didn’t). What he does do is threaten to kill her. Lilith gets pissed at this. Like, EXCUSE HER VERY MUCH, but she’s a total badass who LET Sam kill her back in season four. Don’t mess with her!

The Winchesters flee but don’t even make it past the parking lot. Lilith zaps out to meet them. Where’s the gun??? She reasons it out, and concludes that the gun is clearly in the Impala. (Clears throat… The most important car in the universe!?) Lilith finds the equalizer pretty much right away and laughs at how damn easy it was. Which...yeah.

“We’ll get it back,” Sam snarls and without further ado, Lilith melts the heck out of the gun. Now it’s just a cooling black pool against the asphalt. Oooooookay. Plan...X?

Back at the bunker, the boys fortify themselves with liquor. Sam leaves ANOTHER voicemail for Cas. (Pardon me while I take a short break to weep and rend my clothing.) “We gave him the head’s up on Chuck and Lilith,” Dean says. “What else are we supposed to do?” Oh, I don’t know. Probably apologize? Tell him you love him and value him as a person. That sort of thing.

Dean’s pretty shattered at the revelation that Chuck’s still pulling their strings. Thanks to Lilith, he understands that Chuck wants an ending where one of them kills the other. Sam immediately ties this into the dreams he’s been having. “You’re just telling me this, NOW?” Dean asks. And…I think that reaction is justified. Sam speculates that his equalizer wound is showing him Chuck’s endings and MAYBE a slice of Chuck’s mind.

“This was supposed to be over,” Dean says in response. “Are we just gonna keep running in this friggin’ hamster wheel until we die? Or we get boring and he ends us?” I’m laughing at the direct commentary on how TV shows live and die but also...DEAN BBY.

Sam thinks they can fight. Dean wants to know how the hell they’re supposed to FIGHT GOD.

______________________________

Goldilocks and the Three Quotes:

Poor, faithful Dean. We both knew it had to end this way

I’ll Freud you

Whatever you’re about to say, I want you to know that we’ve heard worse. We’ve heard weirder

I don’t lie to you. I look out for you

That’s not how this story goes

Oh, you would promise a girl the moon, Dean Winchester

Of the three potential vessels, Ashley had the best hair

God? He is not exactly Shakespeare. He’s more of a low rent Dean Koontz

Be a good boy and show me that BIG GUN, huh?

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn 15x05 #proverbs 17:3 #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 15

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reggiejworkshop · 4 years

Text

The Warners Get the Boot (Chapter 2 of 2)

Summary: When the Warner's find out their show might be rebooted, they head to Mr. Plotz's office for some answers. What they find out is... interesting to say the least

Chapter length:

5,173

Link to the original story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12851058/2/The-Warners-Get-the-Boot

xxxxxxxx

"Well let's say the new show could cater more to your likes! What do you three like?" Terry proposed.

Without hesitation, the Warners gave their own personal suggestions on what they though would make the show great. Unfortunately, all of them chose to speak at the same time. So the resulting response sounded like this. "BlbalbaDonknottsBblblqldFfoodfadInifneyellowpolkadotbikininlkgknknlkMichelphifferrfskgslknglshruqhjqrjhMelGibson…!"

"One at a time! One at a time!" Plotz ordered them. The Warners obediently piped up, their mouths frozen wide open. The CEO pointed at the middle sibling. "Wakko?"

"Yes!" Wakko cheered. Yakko and Dot grumbled as their younger brother jumped onto the seat cushions. He was rarely picked first. "How about some more chases scenes, movie parodies, uncanny celebrity cameos, and maybe some new songs?!"

"See there you go! I love the way you think!" Terry shot his finger at him.

"Try living with him, you'll change your mind pretty quick" Dot retorted. Wakko stuck his tongue at her.

"And well… I never felt we did enough episodes with Ms. Nurse" Wakko admitted, giving a sly wink at his older brother.

"You know me all too well little bro" Yakko responded.

"Unfortunately" Dot sighed. The two executives pursed their lips in uncomfortable frowns.

"Uhh… yeah, about that." Terry interjected. "We were actually planning on giving Nurse a little less screen time. And you kids will have to cut back on the compliments" He winced his fingers on the word 'compliments'. The Warner brothers' smiles slowly melted away. He might as well have told them Santa had given them coal for Christmas.

"But why?" Wakko asked with a pained moan.

"Well, we want the show to appeal to a more female crowd" said Terry. This had gotten Dot's attention as she scooted forward in her seat.

"But Nurse is already appealing!" Yakko answered. He and his brother's eyebrows waggled.

"I don't think you understand, we want it be less offensive towards women. And with Nurse, we can't really do that"

"What are you talking about?" Wakko asked. Gillman cleared his throat.

"She's a character simply used as a curvaceous piece of eye candy for men to ogle at." he replied.

"Thank you!" Dot threw up her hands. "That's what I've been trying to say to them for years!"

"And we've haven't been listening to you, for years!" Yakko replied back, much to Dot's annoyance.

"But we don't see her that way!" Wakko got up from the couch. "She's good looking, and tall, and uh, what else is she Yakko?"

"She's nice and interesting, and Uh... Stimulating?" Yakko scratched his head.

"Oh yeah, she's stimulating alright!" Wakko gave a sly nod. Dot shook her head at her brother's fruitless debate.

"Not even going to acknowledge she has a high IQ are you?" she muttered.

"True, you don't see her that way…" Terry continued speaking when Gillman turned on a slide projector. He pointed it at a blank screen near one of walls. "But these clips appear otherwise"

What followed on screen was a serious of archive footage from the show. Each one involved Yakko's various encounters with women. Yakko fondly remembered each and every one. But the way they appeared here, they suddenly didn't seem so flattering.

"Hello Nurse!"

"Wait till were alone"

"Don't run! I've had my shots this time!"

"Hellooo, Nurse!"

"Come on one more romp! I'll even get in front this time!" After that last line, Gillman stopped the projector.

"But, your taking those out of context! It was all in good fun!" Yakko protested. Terry shook his head.

"What you may consider 'good fun' may not be fun to some people, and the last thing we'll want is for you to be accused as a well, you know"

"No! A what?" Yakko grabbed a cup of water from Plotz's desk. He took a sip when Gillman came over and lifted up Yakko's ear.

"A sex offender" he whispered. Gilman received a spray full of water that lasted five seconds. Coughing, Yakko dropped his cup.

"Who didn't see that joke coming?" Dot said to no one.

"What?! This is Yakko Warner you're talking about not Yakko Weinstein!" Yakko yelled at him.

"Calm down Yakko! You know how important it is to appeal to a wider demographic! " Plotz scolded him.

"But Plotz…" Yakko began to complain. Plotz wasn't seriously considering this was he?

"But nothing! You want your show revived don't you?"

Frowning, Yakko pondered this for a moment. Ogling the female species was part of who he was, and now he'd have to downplay it? They might as well recast him with SpongeBob. As much as he didn't want to do it, he didn't want to ruin this opportunity for his siblings.

"Well, I guess you can't have your cake and eat it too." He said half heartily, plopping himself back on the couch.

"Thank you, glad we can all be a little flexible here." Terry stated.

"Hey, if it keeps my brothers from acting like pigs, I'm good" said Dot. Smiling, she rested a hand behind her head. Wakko on the other hand was far from satisfied.

"But, Yakko saying 'Hello Nurse' is his thing! Just like 'Faboo' is mine! And Dot, yours is…"

"Boys?

"See?"

"Yeah, about those catch phrases, you might want to switch them up every now and then. Find some new ones." Terry interjected.

"Excuse me?" Dot asked. She was no longer smiling.

"What's wrong with the ones they use?" Plotz asked, arching an eyebrow at Terry.

"Well, they're fine and all but, don't you think they're a tad bit dated?"

Plotz opened his mouth to answer when Yakko cut him off.

"Please, they're not as dated as Buster Bunny's stuff, I'm surprised he still gets royalties from his!" Yakko scoffed.

"What were his go to catchphrases again?" Dot asked.

"Hiya Toonsters! It's the 90's!" Yakko responded in an uncanny impression of Buster. He then smacked his head when realized what he said. "Oh shoot."

Out of nowhere, Buster Bunny appeared from behind the couch, his gloved hand held out. Yakko's grudgingly took two dollars from his pocket and gave it to him.

"Thank you!" Buster replied before vanishing within the seat cushions. Wakko peered inside them. The rabbit was nowhere to be found.

"What do he and Babs do nowadays?" he wondered.

"Let's stay focused here please; it's time to move to the next addition of the show." Terry announced with a quick snap of his fingers. "Gilman..."

Right on cue, Gillman ripped off his business attire, revealing a tacky golden sweat suit underneath. His puffy pants were barely hanging up by the enormous wrestler belt around his waist. The initials W.B. were bedazzled on the belt buckle with ruby rhinestones.

The Warners couldn't decide what was more painful, the blinding glare from the sparkling sliver bling around Gillman's neck, or the following words that came out of his mouth. "We need you dawgs to be crunk for the new kids, ya dig?"

Yakko rubbed his brow while his siblings shook their heads. It was definitely the latter.

"Can you repeat that in English? We don't speak Cringense" said Dot.

"Look, we want to make sure you three make a perfect transition to the 21st century. Appeal to today's modern crowd." Terry explained.

"But kids have always liked us. And we like kids!" Dot replied. Her older brother blew a kiss.

"Goodnight everybody!" Yakko froze in a horrible realization. "What am I saying?!"

"Here's the thing, you three haven't been in steady rotation ever since Donald Trump had hair. Most kids today have heard of you, but they don't know about you!" said Terry. It was an admittedly true statement.

"But, what about our cult following?" Dot asked. Terry waved her off with a scoff.

"Eh! Cult groups are a niche crowd. They'll will only get you so far"

"What about the Hub…?" Wakko asked before both siblings placed a hand on his mouth.

"Wakko, we agreed to never acknowledge that channel ever again" Yakko warned sternly. Terry shook his head before adjusting his glasses.

"Gillman, help me out here" he said.

"You three love music and dancing right?!" the second executive spoke up.

"Yeah?" said Wakko. The trio perked their heads up in anticipation. This seemed promising.

"Well, you'll love this! It 'll give your new show a funky fresh jizzam!" Gillman pressed a button on a nearby laptop before restarting the projector. "Let's drop that beat!"

Dubstep music blared from the laptop speakers at full blast. The Warner's pulled and gripped at their aching ears. The bass rumbled the ground beneath them, vibrating the couch. On screen, archive footage of the Warners dancing in various episodes, were unfittingly synced up to the music. Some of the clips were repeated with quick cut edits, while others were marred by bright flashing lights. Tongue hanging and drooling, Wakko droned as his eyes flickered from epileptic inducing effects.

"Forget the Pokémon shock. This is Warner Shock!" Yakko strained, holding his pounding head. Gilman started shuffling his feet against the synthesized swoops and sleek drum sounds. His gut jiggled to the fuzzy bass line. The pudgy man slid over to Yakko, his arms popping and locking to the beat.

"Come on Yakko! Drop it like it hot!" he goaded. Yakko pulled out an anvil and raised it above Gilman's head.

"The only thing I'm dropping is this if you keep talking like that!" he warned. The man wisely stepped away before looking at Dot.

"What about you? Know how to twerk?" he asked. The youngest sibling gasped in offense.

"Yeah, I don't do that" Dot spat back.

"Oh no…?" Terry responded. He pressed another button on the projector. The music stopped. On screen was one of the Warners old routines, the three of them were sitting around a campfire.

"I got the beans" said Yakko.

"I got the ketchup" said Wakko. Dot pulled her ears; she knew her line came next.

"I got the buuunnns" The music kicked back in at a deafening roar. On screen Dot's butt shaking started repeating in a continuous loop, creating the obscene illusion of her twerking.

"That's taken out of context!" Dot screamed.

"Doesn't feel good now does it, sis?!" Yakko yelled over the music. Suddenly all three Wanrers appeared on screen, and somehow all of them were edited so they were twerking at the same time. With the seizure inducing colors strobing on screen, the trio writhed in agony at what they saw. To make matter worse, the song transformed into remixed dubstep version of the theme song. It went about as well as one would expect.

"Ii-i-i—i-it's time for animaniac- acs –acs ac sacs! And we-ee-e-e—ee- zany to the max, max, max…" the voices of three stuttering robots sang. The Warners own voices were barely recognizable underneath the slick production and excessive auto tune.

"Make it stop!" Yakko and Dot screamed. Wakko came to rescue when he whipped out his trusty mallet. The song blared on.

"…While B-b-bill Clinton plays the sax! Sax! Were A-a-a-a animaniacs! Gilman 34 remix what! Meet Pinky and the…"

Thwack! Thwam!

In two swings, both the projector and laptop were crumpled into piles of rubble. The song whirred down to a stop. Happy sighs came from his siblings.

"Sweet release" Dot moaned.

"Wakko! Put that thing away!" Plotz broke the welcome silence, as he pulled wads of cotton from his ears.

"Sorry" Wakko tucked his mallet away with a guilty frown.

"This was a rental" Gillman whimpered, tossing bits of the broken projector on the floor. Terry shifted in his shoes. He gave his glasses another tug.

"Okay, so… we'll work on the music and dance thing." Terry stated, trying to get the meeting back on track. "What about social media? What do you kids prefer, Tumblr or Twitter?"

"Whichever one has less annoying people?" Yakko answered.

"Okay, so Instagram it is!" said Gillman, who started typing away on a smartphone "What type of hashtags would you like for your account?"

The trio gave each other confused looks.

"What's Instagram?" asked Dot. The two executives responded with a few confused looks of their own.

"Have you three been living under a rock?"

"Actually a water tower to be exact." Yakko stated flatly.

"Now, we'll also need to update your outfits" said Terry.

"What's wrong with the ones they have?" Plotz asked impatiently. The Warners threw their heads back in relief. Finally, someone one else was on their side for once. So they thought.

"Nothing, if you forget the fact that they're all half naked."

The Warners looked down at themselves. Each of their faces crinkled with confusion. They were far from bashful about their appearance. No one ever made an issue about Wakko not wearing pants, nor was there one on Dot and Yakko not wearing shirts.

"What's wrong with being naked?" Wakko asked innocently. Yakko rose his hand to say something, but then he stopped himself.

"Animals are naked" said Gillman.

"But we are animals! Aren't we?"

"Anthromorphic animals, there's a difference. And gratuitous nudity is something we can't let kids be influenced by." Terry explained as if any of this made sense. Gillman came forward with a small box of clothes.

"Just peep out these kicking thread-" the executive stopped mid sentence when the anvil reappeared in Yakko's hand. "I mean, just try these clothes on."

Yakko put the away the anvil with a smile. Within a second, the Warners had their new outfits on. And in less than a second, they voiced their opinions.

"Wow, nothing says zany to the max like stainless leather jackets and tie dye shirts!" Yakko exclaimed, sarcasm bleeding into his voice.

Wakko, who now sported a pair of red yoga pants, pointed at the brown shoes he wore.

"What kind of shoes are these?" he asked.

"Alligator shoes" Gilman replied. Wakko politely placed the shoes back in the box.

"You shouldn't take an alligator's stuff, it's not nice!" he told him. A blank stare was Gilman's response.

"Hot pink sequins?! Did Lady gaga design this?!" Dot complained. She pulled at the tattered blouse underneath her burlap vest. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like this in public. "Can't I just ditch the shirt?!"

"But then that would reveal your underage chest" Terry warned. "Censors wouldn't want that!"

"Please tell me there's a gas leak in this room." She moaned at Wakko.

"I think they're confusing kids with the special people on Deviantart." Her brother commented.

"Oh that's nice! Real nice!" Yakko chucked the heavy jacket to the floor. He flung the shirt off to the side. Out of all the Warners, his tolerance level was being pushed to its limit. "You change our clothes, our music, and even our catch phrases! I bet we can't even use violence deal with our specials friends!"

"Actually you can." Terry smiled, tugging at his sun glasses.

"What?!" The trio yelped in excitement. Finally something they could agree on!

"Despite what censors think, People aren't really affected by cartoon violence. The cartoonier, the funnier" He shoved Gillman in front of them. "Here, have a go at him"

"Wait, what?!" Gillman freaked out.

Wham!

Wakko pounded him out with his mallet in less than a second. The sound of the impact was sweet and satisfying. Gilman dizzily fumbled on the floor, a nice lump growing on his bald spot.

"Let me try!" Dot took out her trusty medieval mace. She swung it.

Clang!

Stars swirling his eyes, the executive's lump grew in size. Gillman barely had time to react when Yakko whipped out his anvil just for the heck of it.

Thud!

A glittering gold pancake that was the executive crept out from underneath the anvil.

"Hey, that was kind of fun!" Dot smiled.

"Goody…" Gillman moaned, his entire body unfolding like a stretched accordion.

"See, now were talking!" Yakko agreed.

"Can we have a go at you?!" Wakko eagerly raised his mallet at the skinnier executive. Terry threw up his hands, backing away from him.

"No thanks. Kids, I like your raw enthusiasm" Terry said. He folded his arms together. "But…"

"Oh no!" Yakko whimpered. Of course, there was a catch.

"There will also be a series of checks and balances."

"We know how to do our own accounting thank you very much" Dot spat in defense.

"No, for every episode you have to resort to your "special friend' antics, you also have to include a brief PSA."

Yakko could feel his own eye twitch. Behind him, Dot smacked her forehead while Wakko whacked himself with his own mallet."Uh…Were not exactly the PSA type…" said Yakko.

"What about that Wheel of Morality bit?" Plotz interrupted. Yakko gave him a side glare.

"Thank you, Plotz" he ground his teeth.

"Actually, that's not too far from what we had in mind. You spin the wheel to reveal the lesson of the day, then proceed with the episode to learn said lesson."

"Didn't this kind stuff get old after Tiny Toons did it?" Wakko muttered.

"It was old before Tiny Toons did it" Dot spat back.

"Censors won't really care about the violence as long there's a point to it. Preferably once with a slight liberal tone." Terry answered.

"That explains Seth McFarlane" Yakko retorted. "So what was the point of wailing on Gilligan here?" He asked, jutting a thumb into the taller executive's gut.

"Well… um" Terry was at a loss for words. He reached for something behind him. In his hands was a large clear bowl filled with smalls strands of paper. "Why don't you check out some these lessons we've drafted to find out?"

"Thanks, Terry…" Gilman answered with a scowl.

"Each strip of paper has an important lesson printed on the back. They're true to life, and could provide a lot of potentially zany material." The executive lifted up his sunglasses to wink at them. Yakko smiled back, resisting the urge to flip the bird. He gingerly picked up one of the small strips inside.

"You're lucky you have pretty eyes" Dot said with little interest. She was far too annoyed to bother flirting with him. She and Wakko pulled a few strips from the bowl as well.

"Don't let idiots play with dynamite?" Yakko read aloud. "Well that's, uh... decent"

But the more the trio sorted through the strips, the less promising they became.

"Always remember to take your clothes off before you put them in washer machine?" Wakko read. "Huh?"

"If you ever meet someone you don't like, you can always change them" Dot chucked the strip she'd read. "What the-?! What kind of lessons are these?!"

"Dry yourself off before running into an electricity plant?!" Yakko read, anger taking over his voice. "Are these important lessons for kids, or for people like Ralph the Guard?!"

"But even Ralph has common sense! What little there is" Dot spat. Wakko reeled back in shock when he read the next one.

"It's not a good idea to snort cinnamon and soda while you're constipated?!"He glared at his older brother. "You said you wouldn't tell anybody about that!"

"I didn't!" Yakko pleaded. Gillman suddenly shoved his smart phone right into his brother's face.

"Hey if you do it again, make it a viral video! Kids love that!" he exclaimed. Yakko clenched his fists, this had gone on far enough.

"Alright, that's it!" Yakko swapped the phone out of his hands. "I've crossed many lines in the past, and will cross many more in the future, but this one I will not!"

"Yakko! All of you! What is wrong with you three?!" Plotz scolded. The Warners turned to the annoyed CEO sitting behind the desk. They were too distraught to notice he'd barely talked this whole time until now. But it was time to stop. Wakko climbed on the table and grabbed Plotz by the shirt.

"T.P! Don't make them do this!" He begged. The CEO hastily peeled him off.

"Why should I do that?!" Plotz spat back. Wakko and his siblings backed away from him, disbelief and horror contorting their faces.

"Do we have break out landing lights to your brain? We think this idea horrible!" Dot screeched at him.

"So what?! You kids don't run the show, you just star in it! If your show gets you back in limelight, it brings in better ratings for us! And don't you three want that?"

"Mr. Plotz! We'd rather spend another 50 years locked in the water tower than this!" Yakko pleaded.

"Yakko, please!" Plotz scoffed. The short man got down from his chair and brushed him aside. "This is fantastic gentlemen!" he called to the two executives. All three of the Warners jaws dropped at the same time. Both Terry and Gillman graciously accepted the handshakes from the CEO. While Plotz's back was turned, Terry looked right into their eyes.

"It pays to be flexible" Terry uttered softly. The Warners quivered at the smug smile he gave them.

"No! We're ruined!" Dot sobbed, burying her head into Yakko's chest.

"What's gonna happen to us Yakko?" Wakko stared up at his older brother.

"Best case scenario, we'll have to move to Canada and change our names to Mud, Mudd, and Muddy" said Yakko.

"I'm just glad I had the honor of meeting some brilliant geniuses, like yourselves." Plotz said as he patted both men on the back.

"Well I wouldn't consider us geniuses" Gillman gloated, flaunting one of his silver necklaces.

Yakko repeatedly slammed his head on Plotz's desk. Wakko gnawed at his hat while Dot curled up into a fetal position whispering to herself. "This is a dream, this is only a dream…"

Mr. Plotz was hopelessly hooked, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"So I take it's a yes for show? Come on! Be honest" Terry gushed in a phony attempt to sound humble. The Warners shivered as they witnessed Plotz giggle with uncontrollable excitement. Finally, Plotz cleared his throat. His joyous mood taken down by several notches.

"You know what I really think? This reminds me of an old show. Ghostbusters was it? There was nice crew, just like you two called Q5. They made some changes to appeal to the TV viewing crowd."

Plotz paced around the two men, keeping his voice at a low volume. A rarity for him.

"Changed some voices, added new characters, even gave em a cute little sidekick. It was the whole hip and fresh package!"

Seeing the CEO this upbeat and calm was really unnerving. The Warners had no idea where Plotz was going was this, but they remained silent.

"And you know what happened to that show?" Plotz stopped just inches from Terry's feet. The executive's smile weakened by a few notches.

"What?" he asked softly. Within less than a second, Mr. Plotz's face was as red as the tie on his shirt.

"IT GOT CANCELED!"

Plotz's loud shriek made the Warners jump. His sudden release of anger also knocked the two men off their feet. Terry's sunglasses fell to the floor. One of lenses popped out on impact. When he reached for them, Plotz's stood right on top of them.

"Mr. Plotz, what…?" a finger to his face cut him off. He backed off.

"You hack wits actually think this is what kids want?! You think I'd want to waste my hard earned money on this?! Horrible music?!" Plotz yelled at the top of his lungs, stepping over the broken laptop on the floor. "PSA's?!" He kicked aside the bowl of lessons before his eye level met with Gilman's gaudy wrestler belt. Plotz swiped it from his waist. "And ridiculous clothing!"

"Mr. Plotz, kids don't know any better! Many shows been redone this way!" Gilman pleaded. The burly executive trembled in his tighty whities. He attempted to pull his pants back up, when Plotz flung the belt right at his head. The belt buckle clocked his balding noggin "Ouch!"

"And guess how many of them hold up! None of them do!" Plotz growled. Ditching the pants, Gillman scampered behind Terry, who was now shaking and sweating.

"B-buts sir, I-I think should y-y-ou really reconsider this decis…" the shorter executive fumbled with his words before he was cut off again.

"After that horrible presentation?! You think I care what you bloated introverts think?!" Plotz marched towards them. Terry and Gillman wisely started backing away from him, and made their way to the front door.

"Bu-bu-butt the show! Without this reboot, I-it will be just m-memory!" Terry stuttered, failing to regain his composure. Plotz grabbed Gillman's pants off the floor and wrung them in his hands.

"Then maybe that's what thier show should stay as! A good memory!" Pants in hand, Plotz repeatedly swiped at Terry's head, the puffy clothing slapping him with every word. "Not some trendy, brainless, half baked, stupid, idiotic, pandering, dated! Bull! pockey!"

The last swipe made Terry and Gillman stumble onto the floor in the middle of the doorway. The CEO stood over the trembling men.

"I-I-If w-we don't do this, well b-b-b-e making the biggest mmmmistake of our c-careers!" Terry pleaded. The confident swagger in his voice vanished.

"We? There is no we! The only mistake I see, was letting you two in my office! Now get out! Out! Out OUT!"

Both Terry and Gillman were gone by the second "out!", their terrified screams fading down the hallway. Plotz barged into the doorway and chucked the pants in their direction.

"And take these pants back to the 90's where you found them!"

On that final note, he slammed the door. It echoed on impact.

Silence was all that could be heard now, that and Plotz's breathing. Slack jawed and bug eyed, the Warners stared at him, unable to comprehend what at what they just witnessed.

The CEO marched away from the door, breathing heavily through his nostrils. He stopped right in front of the Warners, an indignant frown on his face. But the corners of his mouth began to creak upward. Then he burst into laughter.

"What just happened?" Yakko spoke up, his beady eyes widening.

"You…" Plotz pointed at his head red nose before exploding into a uproarious fit of howling and coughing. It didn't take long for the others to realize what had just occurred. The flustered gazes from the trio turned to furious glares as the plump CEO slumped against the couch, burying his hearty chortles within the seat cushions. When he finally stopped, he wiped a tear from his eye.

"You set us up!" Dot shrieked!

"You mean this whole thing was fake?" Wakko asked. His fists clenched together.

"No, those hacks were real alright, and I've dealt with plenty others like them" Plotz confessed. A few chuckles sprinkled every other word. "I can't believe you three thought I was serious! Oh, this made my day!"

Yakko's brow furrowed at seeing his regular adversary laughing at him. But after a few seconds, a smile of admiration replaced his furious glare. The same happened to his siblings as well. As much as they hated to admit it, he'd gotten them alright. Anyone that managed to do that deserved credit.

"You're a cruel man Plotz, and that was a cruel joke" the eldest Warner answered. He planted a sloppy kiss on one of his cheeks. "And I like it! I guess after twenty years we finally rubbed off on you!"

"Agh! Don't ruin my moment!" the flustered CEO rubbed his cheeks.

"You know maybe it's for best" said Dot. "Our show is better as good memory."

"Wait, a minute! Plotz, said our show was good memory?" Wakko spoke up.

"Yes. So what?" Plotz crossed his arms.

"But Mr. Plotz, You never say anything good about us!" Yakko and Dot's faces brightened at their brother's observation.

"Well, I uh…" Plotz stammered, his face blushing a bright shade of pink. He hadn't realized in his fit of rage he'd said more than he intended.

"Oh Mr. Plotz, did you just compliment us?" Yakko asked. A wide grin stretched across his face.

"I- I did no such thing!" The CEO dodged his question. He immediately started pushing them to the door. "Now get out of here before I get Ralph!"

"Suuure, Of course you realize, I'm going to have to get you back now" Yakko said with a smirk.

"I look forward to it." Mr. Plotz replied. Sarcasm bit into his voice. "Now get out!"

With a swift yank, the door closed. The click of a lock followed a second later. Dot and Wakko peeked through the keyhole to see Plotz strutting back to his desk, a written piece of paper taped to his back. When they read what it said, they glared at their older brother.

"A 'kick me' sign? Really Yakko?" Dot shook her head. Yakko shrugged.

"Hey the story's over, it's all I could think of."

xxxxxxxx

I hope you all enjoyed this. Sorry if it came off as a little too preachy. To be honest, my feelings were more mixed about the show being rebooted back when I wrote this. On one hand, I'm very excited to have one my favorite shows brought back. But on the other hand, I can't ignore that most reboots tend to fall in two categories: it become an unrecognizable mess that fails to attract old or new fans, or its pale attempt at trying to recreate the magic the original had. But if reboots like the new Looney Tunes show on HBO Max managed to actually look good, then that makes me a bit more optimsistic.

Oh yeah, one more thing. The Q5 and Ghostbusters bit is actually true. It was classic example of network interference messing with a good show. If you want to find more about it, I'd recommend the documentary "The Heroes of Ghostbusters". Or if your lazy like me, just check out Phelous ripping on them in his YouTube video: The Real Ghostbusters: The Bad Episodes watch?v=OW51PDa_puE&t=1717s

#animaniacs #animaniacs reboot #animaniacs fanfiction #fanfiction #shorts #short story #creative writing #yakko wakko and dot #mr. plotz

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starryhedgehog · 5 years

Text

my everything : an elu coffee shop au (pt. 4)

part one ll part two ll part three ll part four ll part five ll part six ll part seven ll part eight

a/n : this is a series! each part will come out daily -> let me know if you want to be tagged in the comments or send me an ask xx

taglist : @iamshannonmcfarland ll @nidaslife ll @counting-mississippilesslyll @lululallement ll @spacekardemomme ll @desertwytch ll @vludors ll @kiwisfool ll @eluetmaxel ll @itsthelastquestion ll @apollodankaciyorum ll @kritiquer ll @kittyyya ll @choupi-lulu ll

(if u ever want to be removed from the taglist message me and no hard feelings i promise xx)

VI.

When Lucas next walks into the coffee shop, he nearly drops his backpack. Because right before his very eyes are the three people Lucas has been trying to avoid: Yann, Basile, and Arthur. And all three are currently leaning against the counter, bombarding Eliott with questions.

“Are you making my coffee?” Comes from Arthur who leans forward, with wide eyes.

“How long’ve you worked here?” This is Yann, now.

And then, “draw me a picture, Eliott, please, please, please? I love art.”

Eliott laughs, the same beautiful sound, and Lucas nearly swoons right then and there. But then he remembers what’s going on, and he marches over, dragging Basile away from the counter. “He’s not drawing you a picture,” Lucas grumbles.

Elliott perks up at this, eyes widening as he sees Lucas.

Lucas doesn’t notice, for he’s far too busy pushing Basile, Arthur, and Yann toward the table in the back of the shop. He distinctly avoids the seat by the window.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lucas scowls, exasperated. “And why are you talking to, no, bothering Eliott?”

“Ah, first name basis,” Arthur grins.

Yann laughs, passing Arthur a euro. He then turns to Lucas. “How’d it go, yesterday?”

“Fine,” Lucas says. “Nothing happened. We just talked.”

“For the entire day?” Yann looks at Lucas with glee. “Okay. That’s great.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and dramatically passes the coin back to Yann, who waggles his eyebrows and holds up a triumphant middle finger.

Basile yawns. “I hope he draws me that race car I told him about.”

Arthur looks sideways at Basile. “Well huge warning, Baz? If he does you’d better run. I think Lulu here might throw fists — and he’s got a mean punch.” He taps the frame of his glasses, and Lucas scowls.

Basile shrugs, perking up as Eliott calls all three of their names. Basile is about to run toward the counter, but Yann grabs him by the hood. “We still have to talk about that girl,” Yann says pointedly.

Lucas thinks this is very dumb, as Basile is so obviously already dating Daphné.

Arthur nods vigorously. “Yes. Sit down, Basile.”

“Get our coffee, Lucas?” Yann looks at him innocently, but Lucas knows better. He sees the glee behind Yann’s eyes.

Basile looks blank. “Huh? What girl?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Sit down, Baz.”

“I want to see if he likes Lucas!” Basile whispers a little too loudly. “That’s why we’re all here, remember?”

Arthur sighs. “You will, babe, just wait. Besides, I don’t think Daphné would be too happy to see you so excited about Eliott.”

Yann snickers.

Lucas walks over to the counter, shaking his head. He wishes he hadn’t heard that conversation.

“Hi,” Eliott says, amused. He smiles as he sees Lucas, leaning forward. “Are those your friends?”

Lucas nods, sighing. “Yeah. They’re a handful.”

“No, they seem cool,” Eliott says. “Really cool.”

“Sorry if they bothered you.”

“Oh no,” Eliott says quickly. “Not at all.” He grins, “in fact, they were telling me all about you and your invisible friend.”

The color drains out of Lucas’ face. “I was twelve! I’m going to kill them —“

“I was joking,” Eliott teases as he bursts into infectious laughter, “but that was cute.” He reaches out to mess with Lucas’ hair, pushing four paper cups of coffee toward him.

“Oh,” Lucas says, still not entirely recovered from embarrassment. “Only three. I didn’t order coffee.”

“I know,” Eliott says. He pushes the fourth coffee back toward Lucas. “But still. It’s for you. You know, exceptional barista abilities.”

“You don’t have to,” Lucas says.

“Take it,” Eliott insists. “And I want to.”

Lucas smiles softly and takes the coffees between his arms, stumbling to carry everything as he walks back toward the table.

Yann is grinning at Lucas. “Oh, yes. He likes you, dude.”

Arthur nods excitedly. “Did you see the way he messed with your hair? He’s totally gone.”

Basile laughs. “Lucas, the guy gave you free coffee! Free coffee! Please date him.” He turns to Yann, “you know what this means, guys? We get discounts!”

Lucas looks down at his coffee and smiles, cheeks still pink. The table grows silent, thrumming with nervous excitement.

Arthur breaks it, howling with laughter. “Oh my god, guys, guys look, he’s blushing.”

Lucas scowls. “Shut. Up.”

But then his eyes catch sight of the little hedgehog peeking out from beneath his paper coffee cup, paint-splattered across his spikes. And then in a little speech-bubble, ‘i’m a fucking masterpiece. don’t touch.’

He remembered. He actually remembered.

Lucas stares at the cup and goes completely into bliss. Distantly he hears the boys whistling and laughing, but right now they’re so far away, and he can’t bring himself to care.

“His eyes just turned into little hearts,” Yann chuckles, poking Lucas’ cheeks. “I can’t believe this.”

Basile lights up. “He gave me a smiley face.”

“And he gave Lulu a gorgeous hedgehog. But,” Arthur turns to Lucas, still grinning stupidly, “we knew you were a masterpiece, but like, what does this even mean?”

Yann smirks. “And Lucas said romance was dead.”

Basile jumps up from the table and pumps his fist. “Yes!” He turns to Arthur and Yann, “Eliott’s a keeper.”

“For sure,” Arthur says.

Lucas smiles, melting, clutching the coffee cup in his hands. He thinks he could get used to this Eliott thing.

There’s a little number on the corner of the design, and Lucas faintly distinguishes it as the date three days from now.

VII.

Lucas meets Eliott at the art museum, and the two of them walk through the galleries and through the millions of paintings. Lucas makes fun of most of them, because Eliott, really, don’t they all look the same? But Eliott just laughs and points out interesting facts he’s able to rattle off from the top of his head. Or, as Lucas likes to put, read from the information signs at the bottom of the portraits.

“Ah,” Eliott says, “Baldassare Castiglione.” He’s staring at the painting, pensive, his fingertips trailing over his lips.

There’s no way he knows that. No way.

“He looks like a chef from a zombie apocalypse.”

Eliott bursts out laughing, then pretends to look at Lucas seriously. “Could be you. His eyes are the same color as yours.”

“Get out,” Lucas pushes Eliott, unable to contain the grin spreading across his face. “Don’t compare me to that.” He’s about to say more, but suddenly his eyes catch sight of a sign hanging from the ceiling, and he quickly shoves through people, pushing to get towards where he’s so clearly trying to reach. He manages to grab onto Eliott’s hand before he darts out the section of the gallery.

Elliott lets out a muffled yelp and is pulled into multiple people. He’s struggling to follow Lucas because he’s so tall, and Lucas feels a tiny bit of remorse. But when he turns around to peek at Eliott, there’s a grin on his face, and Lucas knows he’s definitely curious, probably wondering what in the world has gotten him so excited. Especially considering Lucas has been groaning every time Eliott pushes him into a different part of the museum.

When Lucas finally slows down, his eyes catch on the gilded plaque that reads ‘La Galerie d’Apollon’ and he steps inside, his head leaned up to look at the ceiling. He walks aimlessly around, searching for something. He looks past the names of Pisces and Aquarius and walks further and further, neck straining and eyes burning. And he finds Cancer up on the ceiling surrounded by a small circle of cerulean. He smiles, satisfied. “Found it.”

Eliott smiles down at Lucas, who’s still staring up at the ceiling with dazed eyes. “You like astrology?”

Lucas shrugs. “Sure.”

Eliott raises an eyebrow, eyes mischievous. “Sure?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Are you just going to copy everything I say until you get an answer you like?”

Eliott grins bashfully, shrugging. “Maybe?”

Lucas stares at Eliott for a moment, then sighs and laughs softly. “Okay, okay. Yes.”

Eliott gazes at Lucas with a curious expression, and Lucas doesn’t know what it means. He realizes he’s still holding Eliott’s hand and reluctantly lets go.

But Eliott doesn’t. Eliott’s still holding onto Lucas’ hand, and when he notices Lucas staring, he interlaces their fingers, eyes crinkling.

What?

Lucas looks up at Eliott, his eyes wide. Wide and wondrous. He’s yelling at himself to say something, say anything, but he can’t bring himself to speak. He’s utterly speechless. And it’s all because Eliott’s holding his hand, holding his hand, holding his hand.

“Is this okay?” Elliott asks, actually concerned, and bless him, Lucas thinks. Now he’s about to actually die.

Lucas is surprised when he nods. Because apparently his body’s decided that it can nod impulsively, but not speak. At least, not until now. “More than okay,” he croaks.

Eliott smiles, and he’s so close to Lucas. And Eliott’s looking down at him with eyes full of adoration. Adoration, Lucas thinks. That’s what it is. Adoration. Eliott’s voice startles him, and he jumps, shaky.

“Step one,” Eliott says, “hold your hand.” He’s so close now, and Lucas doesn’t know what to do with his other hand, which he shakily holds in front of him. “Step two,” Eliott says, looking at Lucas with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

And Lucas realizes that he can smell Eliott’s faint cologne, but most of all he smells coffee beans, and Lucas’ suddenly grateful for the hand interlaced with Eliott’s that’s keeping him grounded. “You can’t, you can’t touch —“ He can’t bring himself to finish.

Eliott’s so close that Lucas’ hand is now resting right against his chest, and he can’t breathe, everything’s so warm, so right, so perfect.

“Fuck the rules,” Eliott whispers, his thumb reaching to brush against Lucas’ bottom lip.

And Lucas doesn’t know who makes the first move, who breaks the spell that’s settled around them, but suddenly he’s leaning up on his tiptoes and Eliott’s surging forward, and Eliott’s lips are against his, and he’s being kissed.

Eliott’s lips are soft, and the warmth swirling through Lucas’ entire body is enough to make him melt at the spot. Eliott’s hands come up to hold Lucas’ face, and Lucas tugs Eliott closer, running his hands through that gorgeous hair he’s wanted to touch for so long. There’s a soft sound when Eliott hums against his lips, and Lucas shivers.

When he pulls away Eliott is staring at him softly, eyes warm, everything warm. “Step two,” Eliott says, in that sweet, sweet voice. “Make out with you.”

“Step three,” Lucas says impatiently, “kiss me again.”

Eliott laughs, and Lucas pulls him closer, kissing him again.

part five

#elu #elu fic #elu fanfic #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury x lucas lallemant #lucas lallemant x eliott demaury #lucas x eliott #eliott x lucas #elu coffee shop au #coffee shop au #skam france imagine #elu imagine #elu fluff

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fly-pow-bye · 5 years

Text

DuckTales 2017 - “GlomTales!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Colleen Evanson

Storyboard by: Vince Aparo, Emmy Cicierega, Ben Holm

Directed by: Tanner Johnson

Scheme-worthy!

The episode begins with Louie looking out the window in the room he has been grounded in in the last episode. Yes, he managed to get a grounding that actually lasts more than an ending of an episode, what a concept. He sees Scrooge and the rest of the family preparing for another adventure that is pretty much 100% out of Scrooge's unwillingness to lose the big bet that he made with Glomgold.

Louie tells himself that while he's grounded, at least he wouldn't be dragged into another dangerous adventure. He then notices the hobo bindles and cans of beans, and realizes exactly what they're going to adventure to a place where there's cherry Pep springs, where the con men sing, where the geysers spit out gold for everyone, and the Hobo King has a Ruby Bindle with Scrooge's name on it. In a reference to the old folk song, they're going to the Big Rock Candy Mountain, and Louie jumps out of the door and says he has to go.

Of course, Louie's mom is not going to let Louie go on the adventure of his dreams, because he's still grounded. Della's not going to be a pushover like she was in the last episode, oh no, she's not everything covered for him as we'll soon see.

Della: You can come out when you learn that no good ever came from cockamamie schemes!

In a masterful transition, we cut to the A plot of the episode, where Glomgold is using a slingshot to try to get into the Junkyard where Ma Beagle and her Beagle Boys live. While he ends up succeeding, he does end up in the hands of Bouncer Beagle.

Glomgold tries to defend his trespassing of the junkyard by saying that he's here because he has a plan to defeat Scrooge and his family. In his words, he's only here to recruit, not as workers, but as family, and family is the greatest scheme of all, according to him. With an evil laugh, we cut to a not-so-familiar title sequence.

Instead of the usual DuckTales theme song, we get his Theme Song Takeover instead. Honestly, I would have been disappointed if they didn't use it; it's great! It starts with him following the blueprint, we get "amazing CGI" that makes him look like some sort of muscleman, and lyrics that can only come from the masterful schemer, like "Scrooge stinks, Scrooge stinks, Scrooge stinks, Scrooge stinks!"

After that, we see that Ma Beagle is not exactly thrilled with working with Glomgold. She thinks he's a moron, and he can never beat Scrooge because he's smarter than the smarties. She also correctly accuses him of only doing this because he wants to win the bet. Kind of an interesting comparison between the two combatants of the bet: both Scrooge and Glomgold only have that on the mind. Of course, Scrooge is just getting more treasure, while Glomgold just wants to wipe out the other guy and his family.

The usual three Beagle Boys chime in to this offer, saying that they need a powerful male figure in their lives, and eventually Ma Beagle accepts the offer. No, not because she feels sorry for Glomgold, but because if Scrooge is defeated, she can get what she wants out of it: the deed to Duckburg. This is going to be a theme.

Meanwhile, Louie tries to sneak out, only to find his new babysitter...

Schedulebot: Punishment time! Punishment time!

Oh no, not Schedulebot! Get back in your own cartoon! Okay, it's actually DT-87, the security robot that also doubles as a video player that has Della trying to teach Louie ethics. Gotta say, Della using a robot that doesn't have a good track record of not becoming evil may not be her best idea. Granted, she wasn't around when this robot was attempting to shoot the kids with steel cutting lasers all those episodes ago, so I cannot exactly blame her for not knowing about it.

Or, maybe she did know, and she doesn't care, as we see that one of the ways DT-87 is keeping Louie into his room is with that said steel cutting laser. Granted, those lasers are different-looking here; they could be just set to stun, but we never find out if that's actually the case.

The next stop is Waddle, where Mark Beaks is busy looking up if he's still the "hottest" and "tallest" of the billionaires. He scoffs at Glomgold's offer to take down Scrooge while being a part of his family because he's too busy raising his rep with his inventions, like his very own cryptocurrency named Beakcoin! Surprisingly, Bitcoin is still relevant, at least from my research. Big Time wants to know where this magical coin is, and Beaks says it's in the cloud.

While the joke this leads to is predictable, I do like the execution, as Bouncer decides to throw Burger out the window to the clouds. Needless to say, he won't be successful, and Beakscoin isn't really the point of this episode anyway.

While Glomgold couldn't get Mark Beaks on his family, Ma Beagle decides to do her own plan based on her manipulation skills. She talks about how Mark Beaks is a loser, anyway, and there's no reason to use technology against Scrooge. Mark Beaks, out of offense for both of those, decides to join in as the Gyro Gearloose of the family.

Oh yeah, Glomgold is trying to get equivalents to all the people in the Manor, or at least the people that are in a photo he is putting faces onto. He has himself as the Scrooge, Ma Beagle as his Mrs. Beakley, the Beagle Boys as his Huey, Dewey, and Louie, and, as mentioned before, Mark Beaks as his Gyro Gearloose. It's neat to know Burger is supposed to be the Huey. I couldn't really tell what Burger's character is supposed to be even now.

Glomgold has to find his Launchpad McQuack, and that turns out to be the legendary Don Karnage. He is completely fine with going after Scrooge's family...or at least just the one member of it that defeated him. He also wants to sing, but I'd imagine they'd want to save the money they would put into such a musical number for the Moonvasion.

Finally, his family is complete, at least according to Glomgold. Unfortunately for him, Don Karnage and Big Time Beagle point out that he’s missing someone: he needs a Webby. Glomgold knows what person that needs to be, and he’s none too happy to get her.

Oh yeah, I kind of forgot to mention what happened to Magica De Spell in her last appearance. I would talk about that, but I'd say the way this episode introduces her is good enough.

We see Magica do this majestic boasting that she is the one that will make the world tremble, while in a void of purple dust clouds. If Dragon Ball Z has taught me anything, if there's dust clouds, that means it's probably not what it seems...

...and it turns out that the times after The Shadow War have not been kind to the wicked not-so-witch, as she's now a birthday magician for Funso’s Fun Zone. Her willingness to take over the world is only mitigated by her manager telling her not to do that.

Glomgold tries his best to not get Magica in his family, not because she would definitely overshadow him in every way...at least, that’s what he wants people to think.

To make a long story short, she agrees to become Glomgold's Webby, all so she can prove that she's Scrooge's worst enemy. Glomgold reluctantly agrees, and they begin the Glomgold-vasion. Also, yes, I like all everyone is dressed for the occasion. One can't see it here, but Mark Beaks's disguise is just a shirt that says "I am 10 years old". Mentally, yes.

Meanwhile, oh no, Louie used his master scheming to get Huey into his room, somehow! At least, that's what Louie wants DT-87 to think, as he tries to do the sibling switcheroo. We never find out if Della could tell the difference between the boys like Donald could in the comics; I’d think she would.

We don’t find out because of one one problem with this scheme: DT-87 knows fully well that Huey is on the adventure of Louie's dreams, as it shows that it's getting a video call from Huey.

Of course, the other kids are having this unbelievably amazing adventure at the Big Rock Candy Mountain's river made entirely of cherry Pep. Emphasis on unbelievable, it's just like that cliche plot where the kids decide to skip school, and the school happened to be doing something cool that day. It's almost like Della is rubbing it in by even allowing Huey to do this.

Eventually, one of Della's videos on ethics leads to her saying that Louie just needs to learn that his schemes are harming his family, and he should just stop. Louie tells himself that those schemes are the only thing he's good at.

Speaking of schemes, the newly formed Glomgold family all show up, using all of their abilities to infiltrate the manor. The manor has cannons, but they're all stopped by Don Karnage's ship. DT-87 tries to stop them, but his lasers are not set to "can do anything to Bouncer before he bashes his head in". Duckworth tries to use his ghostly demon form to scare them off, but Magica uses her ghost-capturing gem to capture him. Wait, I thought she lost her magic! Also, this never gets undone.

Unfortunately, all of this leads to their disappointment when they only see the grounded green one. They get angry at Glomgold for not checking if the others were on vacation, and that his scheme is worthless. I mean, that's what the adventure pretty much was, so I can't exactly say that's wrong. As Glomgold mopes about how his schemes are the only thing he feels he's good at, Louie gets an idea. Oh no, don’t be inspired by him!

We cut to Scrooge's premature celebration of winning the bet, and Zan Owlson congratulates Scrooge, and she can't hide that she would love to not work for that dreadful schemer.

Sadly for her, that dreadful schemer arrives with his family, and we get a shot that is worthy of the promos. This makes this look like the big battle we have all been waiting for. Well, except for that other one that involved those Moon people.

We get that big battle, actually, though it’s a bit late in the episode for it to pay off that much! One highlight is Glomgold and Magica eventually fighting each other, as they both want to beat up Scrooge. Of course, all of these mixed motives aren’t exactly making Glomgold win, much of the chagrin of the one that planned this invasion of Scrooge’s party.

Louie shows up, acting as if he's the big planner of this. His family is none too pleased, especially not Della, who was ready to give Louie a souvenir from the Big Rock Candy Mountain because she felt so sorry for him. Because of course.

Louie tells his plan: he was going to have each of the family members combine their fortunes, and, thanks to that contractual agreement, Glomgold gets to have a combined fortune.

With that combined fortune, this gives Glomgold more money than Scrooge, making him win the bet at the last minute! Oh no, say it ain't so!

Of course, this isn't how it ends. However, in a twist, it doesn't end in the other way either. This is all due to a technicality that goes into Glomgold's history. See, the deal Louie made is that the money is supposed to go to Flintheart Glomgold. However, there's one problem: there's no Flintheart Glomgold. There's a scheming guy who likes to call himself that, but his name is actually Duke Baloney!

Because of the contract they signed, all the money also goes to his partner, and since the partner actually exists, that means the money goes to one Llewellyn Duck. Wait, what?

In the end, Della pretty much instantly forgives Louie at this point due to the plan saving Scrooge McDuck from losing...as long as that money is transferred right back to Scrooge. Yeah, I'm not getting the vibe that he'll actually do that.

How does it stack up?

I liked this episode. Louie's schemes to get out of his time-out were pretty clever, including one I left out of the review. The big star of this episode is Glomgold. While it may not be the big battle, that's because we got another big battle coming up. Yeah, it's good.

Next, we get to see what happens when one becomes the richest duck in the world.

← TimePhoon! 🦆 The Richest Duck In The World! →

#fpb dt 2017 #fpb reviews #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #disney

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jisinq · 5 years

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the best part of math | kim junseo

summary: in which junseo falls so hard for his new math tutor and turns into a smol bean everytime they talk

⁚⋰ kim junseo x reader (gender neutral)

✎ … word count: 0-1k

✎ … genre: fluff

✎ … style: bullet point

( this is my first fic on tumblr so!! please bear with me haha but yikes this is bad lmao )

everyone knew junseo was the school's ✨ prince ✨

he broke other's hearts* but not by playing with their emotions

just by rejecting them when they confess

but honestly, junseo, our bby boy, has never fallen in love (´-﹏-`；)

not even a crush

taewoo would always make him go on blind dates

but it never went well :/

most of the time his blind date would stare at him, ask him personal questions

yknow,, a blind date

but he's never felt anything for the people he's seen :(

but one day!!!!

y/n!!!

you volunteer to be a tutor for those in need

aka for people who suck at math

you're somehow a genius

pretend you are

and junseo never pays attention in math* he's a bad bitch you can't stop him 😎😎

jk jk, he just doesn't understand and ends up dozing off* the day u volunteer, junseo, as usual is nearly asleep on his desk

but suddenly!!! he hears his name being called by the teacher

junseo who just woke up : oh no what did i do now Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°)

a few seconds later he finally realizes that names were being called out for people who're gonna get tutored

he knew he has bad math grades but,, he just,, deflates when he hears he needs to do moRE studying

our boi studies a lot!!!! he just :(( doesn't get it

so at the end of the class, the teacher introduces you to junseo

"idk if you already know each other since you've been in the same class for a few months now but, y/n this is who you will be tutoring, junseo."

the boy felt like he was gonna be angry at you >:c

he knew he sucked!!! but he wanted to figure out himself like the dependant man he is!!!

but* when jun's eyes finally meet yours

he can't help but turn into a puddle <3

your face!!! it was so pretty!! all your features made him go soft!!!!

"hello!"

",, h-hell-- hello."

he internally scolded himself for stuttering

but cut him some slack!!

he's never felt this way before* junseo is just,, a little confused（ΟΔΟ；；）

you on the other hand

u were just tryna look as cool as possible in front of one of the school's most popular!!!! kids!!!! (ﾟДﾟ;)

when you found out junseo was gonne be your student you were shook™

you!! y/n was gonna spend time w the kim junseo to teach him how to add and substract?? that's crazy sis 😔

you both agreed to meet up on thursday at the library after lunch bc that's when it's least busiest

but you were so nervous you just gobbled the mcfucking lasagna there was for lunch in one go

and nyoom-ed to the book filled room

idk y you were surprised when you didn't see junseo there tho

you literally took five minutes to eat soooo...

to keep yourself busy, you did other hw you had to do* so u didn't notice junseo coming in 15 minutes later

you looked so absorbed in your history assignment.. you were too cute to him uwu* ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

but when you jumped after jun tapped your shoulder to get your attention!!!!

junseo's tummy was swarming!!

swA_RMI_NG I TELL YOu

with butterflies!!!!!

while junseo was thinking about how adorable you are you kept scolding yourself for looking like an idiot :((

"so,, what should we start with?"

"idk? numbers?"

junseo internally screamed at himself bc he realized how d u m b that sounded

but then! you laughed!!

so jun just thought he should keep being a dummy around you all the time :")

bc now that he's heard it, he'll do anything to make you laugh again 💞🤧

the two of you spent the hour going around the basics to see what junseo understood

tbh you were kinda :(( sad :( the study session was already over* time seemed to fly so fast when you're w junseo 😔😔

that same night, you couldn't stop thinking about him

how the shapes of his eyes were so attractive, his blinding smile his--

everything basically

now you understood y so many classmates of yours fall under his spell

like a magic

part two one day? idk lol ✨ thanks for reading!! tell others to stan 1the9 bc they deserve 😤😤💞💖

and?? i wanted to write more but i had to erase some parts i added for it to fit :/ is it bc i wrote this on mobile? since when did tumblr have this limit 😩

#1the9 #1the9 scenarios #1the9 x reader #kim junseo #junseo #kpop #fanfiction #junseo x reader #fluff

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407-b · 5 years

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An Olde Fashioned Christmas

Searches related to hello my name is jenifer and I just met a man whos wife died three years ago and hasnt dated since then and he owns a christmas tree farm and I have a boyfriend of two years and he is not sentimental and he doesnt love christmas and he isnt sentimental and hes too busy with work and he doesnt like my quarks or pay enough attention to me but he might be proposing to me soon so i would probably say yes but he didnt propose to me and instead asked me some dumb question so im going to go out to that other mans family restaurant and have the first nice night out in years because he understands me and he looks like an ll bean model and i helped his child practice for the christmas play and his mother is a family friend mine and she is so sweet and is really pushing us together along with my friend who is a token person of color who also disapproved of my now ex boyfriend but its almost christmas and uncle rickys shoppe is really busy so im having to work long days and nights but thankfully john the man with the really cute child who keeps asking me to come with them to do familiy activities and he says things like no no she has plenty of other things on her plate but i insist on going each time that cute little blonde headed child asks things of me like that and at the christmas play practice another token woman of color asked me which child was mine and i started to correct her but just told her and smiled to myself afterwards and imagined being their mother and the wife of their beautiful loving and strong father who is so very considerate of my situation and i love it that his wife dies three years ago and hes just now feeling comfortable enough to be seeing other women now because hes been so busy with work and raising a child on his own which is a feat enough in this day and age but thankfully he lives in a small tight knit community and is very close with his family and they have all helped him and me along the way and i just am so thankful for that and the spirit of christmas is really in the hearts of everyone in this small vermont town and the timeing worked out so well that my ex and i broke up and my new man john came in to support me that my ex never could have and im not mad at him but that city slicker he just wasnt serious enough about our relationship and he didn't believe in christmas hence why he was going away on another long business trip that wasnt necessary for him to take but it was for a big deal to expand his company and he was really intelligent and hard working but john understands me and he loves me and we can actually connect which in the two years of dating michael my ex i didnt realize that we never really had any connection especially not the kind that ive made with john in just the past two weeks and even though my boss is wanting me to move back as soon as the roads clear up so that we can finsih up that merger i think ill just live here happily ever after with my new man and helf raise his beautiful child who is so sweet and curious and says funny things that children say and everything will be perfect here in this small sweet town town with our family close by

#hallmark movies #i am an artist #21 days #my post

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kurtty-drabbles · 5 years

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Evil Movie au (part 1?)

N/A: Since I´ll back to work tomorrow here is my little take on this au, now, Hellfire will be used here and since I know next to nothing (aside from this organization be now a sex house) I´ll take some liberties.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336

@sailorstar9

In all honesty, the mutants were never a secret, much less a well-thought secret, as people can see Jean Grey lifting things with her mind, Cyclops using his laser beans against any foe, Storm is not ashamed of her powers and more than once humans saw her creating, well, literally storms and, of course, there are Magneto and Professor X who are the most powerful beings in the world.

The existence of mutants change how people see each other and have drastic effects on minorities and white people, what if people of colour have the power to snap you in two? What if that person from the LBGT community can zap you to the next dimension?

It makes the hate crimes decreased and the white house is a concern as the X-men are walking, talking guns and what stops them to take over the US? To take over the world? Brazil did inform they have a good chunk of mutants with fire powers( more potent than any weapon the US could dream)

Stryker always foresees this situation. Always, and for that the man device, in secret, a plan to protect humanity(a huge thank you to the Friends of Humanity, who finance the project)

"Mr President, here is the solution for our troubles with mutants" Stryker speaks revealing the Sentinel project, is still on developing but the results are more than enough to convince the White House that the Mutants will be taken care.

"Stryker, When the Sentinels will be officially ready?" one of President´s Generals asked looking impressed, but, he wants results now.

"I need more time to fully make the project work and I ask help to be able to help our great nation" Stryker paraphrase what is essential ''I need more money'' and them did accept in hopes the Sentinel will save humanity.

Stryker has lots and lots scientists working for him, his most trust worker, Daniel Palmer, is someone who has Stryker 100% trust, to the point, when Stryker has to leave to solve some issues in Switzerland, Daniel will be in charge.

Daniel smiles as Stryker leaves as now the man has to take care of the industry number 2 where the weapons for the Sentinels are being made, Daniel smiles as he reveals his blades and continues to smiles as his disguise is revealed showing a man with blue fur, golden eyes and fangs, of course, his spandex tail.

"Sorry, gentleman, I´ll have to cut some of you, is a tough business" The man teleports and no one in that industry is left alive. Once assure there´s no witness, the blue man calls his superiors.

"Ja, this is Nightcrawler, tell Betsy and Emma it works like a charm" Nightcrawler looks at his blade stick with blood "I finish part 1," the superiors gave the order to set this industry on fire and Nightcrawler obeys.

Once in Switzerland, Stryker realizes that he never hired a man named Daniel Palmer. This information is keep hidden from everyone.

______________________________________________________________________

Kurt Wagner is on his sofa, the small and cosy apartment resembles the man his old home in Germany and as usual, this opens a can of bad and good memories. He wasn´t the first mutant in Germany, but, was the first to be blue.

Today, Kurt Wagner has a day off and intends to enjoy as much as possible, being blue and free of any shame, until, his cellphone rings. Jubilation Lee and Pietro Maximoff are one of the few people who Kurt still keep contact (and they still think Kurt can´t use social media like Whatsapp)

"Hi, guys," Kurt speaks freely as Jubilation, on the other line, is freaking out and not talking loudly at the same time "Kurt, the government is really serious about the Sentinels program"

"Scott found out this Now" that is Pietro´s voice and he too is using the same tone as Jubilation "What this mean?"

"Why ask me? I´m not an X-men anymore" Kurt offers a response "but, the project won´t come to fruition" and once asked about all he answers is "I´m no longer an X-men, but, never will let any friend of mine suffer by such fate"

Pietro and Jubilation have to accept this.

"Ok, moving on, we receive a new student here...At first, we weren´t sure if we should take her or send to you" Jubilation confessed and that caught his attention. "But she is a bit older than Wanda and Pietro wants his baby sister to have a friend"

Pietro cleans his throat "Soon she will fall for a random robot and I won´t accept this" Kurt laughs amused at such silly paranoia. Wanda has 17 years old, and since this new student is a bit older, the age must be among 20 more or less. "So, this Kitty Pryde will stay, 20 years old is not a big deal and no, I´m not being paranoid" Kurt and Jubilation laugh a little.

"But, we aren´t here to laugh at Pietro´s sis-con, we don´t know if she´ll adapt here, so, we just want to keep all doors open" Jubilee finishes in a more professional tone that even Pietro agrees and uses as well.

"What´s her power?" Is not very common they be so open about one of their students wanting to change sides.

"Ghosting!" Pietro informed clear as day and gives a loud ouch as Jubilee reply again "phasing"

"Ok, we´ll see how that plays out" Kurt can´t promise anything if the woman prefers to stay with the X-men he can´t kidnap her. The name Kitty Pryde is a bit curious and the phone call as well, Nightcrawler will have to wait and see what´s happening, but, now, the man wants to relax as tomorrow a new task waits for him.

#evil movie au #evil movie kurt #Kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kitty pryde #shadowcat #hit me with Kitty/wanda friendship #pietro maximoff #Jubilation Lee #the x-men #movie au

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