#i like the idea of them bein goofballs

[silverzoomies]

Ok so I've been a fan of Evan since days of future past came out. Like, the day it came out. I saw the premier or whatever it's called in theaters so DUH I LOVE QUICKSILVER SO MUCH 😞😞 anyways I know you're not taking requests but like I'm a little bit chubby (this is relevant I swear) and I CANNOT stop thinking about Peter and reader! being in a serious long term relationship, but they haven't gone all the way yet. Like, heavy make out session? Yes! Peter getting painfully hard during said make out session? Check. Make out session turns into peters desperately grinding, letting out the neediest little whines. Absolutely. Him definitely busting in his pants at readers! breathless little moans? Every. Single. Time. Never all the way though. He desperately wants to bone but he's willing to wait as long as he wants to because he thinks reader! doesn't want to, but they're just as desperate as he is but scared of what he would think because they're chubby. During one of their heated.. laundry day inducing make out sessions one thing leads to another and reader! ends up telling Peter why they haven't wanted to go all the way, and Peter proves to them he doesn't think that [;)] and talks reader! through it the whole time.

YOU DONT HAVE TO ADD THIS TO YOUR REQUESTS OR TURN IT INTO A FIC IF YOU DONT WANT TO. I just had to share this with somebody and OBVIOUSLY because you're one of my favorite writers I had to come to you with this (hi I've sent u a lot of messages 🎀) and since you're another huge quickie fan I thought you'd enjoy this :3 SORRY IF THIS WAS SUPER LONG OR IF IT DIDNT MAKE SENSE I'm mad at typing sometimes smh

helllooooooo anon, my lovely !!! i love you so much !! forgive me, i haven't written in a while !! i tried my best to make somethin' out of this because it was such a cute idea !! i hope a headcanon list will suffice !! also, please don't ever apologize for sending me long asks. i'm not kidding when i say they make my day, i love them so much !!

headcanons || peter maximoff x chubby!reader

to preface, i think we should consider some key things about our speedy goofball

peter’s a mutant. he knows exactly what it feels like to be alienated for something he has no control over

second of all, the guy’s a little bit of a weirdo

i legitimately doubt he would judge, or think less of anyone for something as superficial as looks

seriously. If he vibes with you, and you’re patient enough with him - you’re sexy as hell

it’s as simple as that, sorry. just bein' honest

so what if you’re a little thicker? he can’t get enough of you

he’s so addicted to you, in fact, you’ve got him trippin’ a little bit

like, he’s kinda goin’ cuckoo

the two of you make out a lot. so much. it’s like you’re glued to one another. any free time you have together usually consists of hanging out, and making out. not that he’s complaining

it’s definitely awesome. and it feels totally great. he does this freaky thing with his tongue that makes you squirm under him every time 

and the way you whine into each smooch - oh, man - you have him longing to get even closer

make outs eventually turn to dry humping. it’s kind of humiliating the first few times...

...since the grinding always seems to end with him busting a load in his jeans. and he whimpers too much...jeez...

but you always praise him for it, which never fails to turn him on even more

things get so heated between the two of you, escalating so often - peter finds himself confused

like…why haven’t you let him…y’know…

once or twice, he hints he wants to go down on you. and there’s no way you misread his signals. he’s pretty blunt about his needs

but you’re always so reluctant. you feign ignorance, or try to distract him with more intense kisses and pretty moans

peter’s never been a patient guy. the fact that he’s willing to wait this long for you says a lot. like, shit…he must really really really like you

but even now…fuck…he’s so worked up. he’s getting a little too bored of being limited to smooching

like, c’mon…do you think he’s ugly or something?? does he smell?? what’s the deal??

he never considered you might be self conscious. his brain doesn’t really operate like that. he’s all impulsivity and living in the moment

in the midst of making out, his hands travel where they don’t usually dare to go. he takes confident chances, fondling your tits over your clothes. but just as things heat up, you redirect his attention again

his blood almost boils. he’s way too hard for this, aching to get closer, and you’re just…gah! why’re you holdin’ yourself back? 

at last, you confess…you’ve been self conscious the whole time

ah

why didn’t you just say somethin’ before? peter tries not to laugh at how silly you sound. obviously, he’s super attracted to you. why else would he spend all his free time with you, tryna get up close and personal?

as things finally move forward, he dials up the sweetness a few notches

and damn, the wait for this was more than worth the uptick in laundry days (thanks to one too many nuts busted in his boxers)

he covers every last inch of your gorgeous body in kisses, as you let him shed you of your clothes

his masculine hands are more gentle than you expect

unclothed together, he doesn’t hesitate to get as close as he possibly can

you’re soft and cozy, and his body is like a furnace

months of pent-up desire leave him so horny, he can’t hold back anymore

through it all, he’s quick to remind you how much of a fox you are. peter teases you with his tongue in ways you never imagined possible. before rocking your world, flowing with the motion of the ocean

and by that, i mean…you bone. balls deep. hellz to the yeah

embarrassingly enough, it ends just as soon as it starts. but as usual, he recovers fast. and his endless stamina means he’s willing to go at it for hours

which he does. until you’re so exhausted, your limbs are like limp noodles. whoops...sorry about that !!

say...uh...no chance you'd wanna go another round, is there?

peter hopes you’ll be more up front with him from now on. so he spends less time dreamin', and more time goin' at it 🤍

[drpeppertummy]

i will be real with you the entire time i was writing this i had absolutely no idea what id already written

[very mild stuffing, mostly just two old fruits eating dinner & cuddling & bein mushy]

Leon slipped his arms around Shel's narrow waist from behind while he cooked, propping his chin against his shoulder. Gently, he snuck his hands under Shel's shirt and rested them on his belly. Shel was a thin person; there was no denying that. Where there had once been hip bones sharply jutting out, though, Leon found only the soft swell of his lower belly. He held his hands there for a moment, taking in the warmth of that soft curve, then gave it a gentle squeeze. Shel smiled and craned his neck around to nuzzle his cheek against Leon's forehead.

Shel had been nothing short of scrawny for just about his entire life. It was only once he started spending time with Leon that he began to soften up a little; perhaps trying to get his dysfunctional sweetheart to eat better was rubbing off on him as well. The two spent many an evening enjoying a hearty home-cooked meal together, just as they were planning to do tonight.

Leon was reluctant to take his hands off of Shel's lovely little tummy, but the dirty cutting board was calling him. He leaned up to kiss him on the cheek before retreating to the sink. Shel remained at the stove, stirring the sizzling vegetables around in the pan. The kitchen smelled wonderful. They had salmon in the oven, drizzled with a glaze of dijon mustard and maple syrup, and cooking on the stove was a colorful medley of squash, asparagus, and broccoli. Leon's belly rumbled, and Shel smiled. He turned away from the stove--the vegetables needed a chance to brown anyhow--and pulled Leon into his arms, nuzzling his face deep into the crook of his neck.

"Shelly!" Leon jerked at the sudden tickling sensation, laughing. Shel hugged him tightly.

"I just like cookin' with you is all," Shel mumbled into his neck. "You're my perfect helper."

"Oh yeah? What are the qualifications?"

"Cute, for starters," said Shel, lifting his head to kiss Leon's cheek. "Sweet. Funny. Uh, warm." He slipped his hands under Leon's shirt to press them into his warm belly, and he gasped at the cold touch. There was little Shel adored more than Leon's plush, pillowy tummy, save for his cats and Leon himself. It was delightfully plump, poking out adorably over the top of his pajama pants, and the squishy little pooch under his belly button fit perfectly in Shel's bony hands. Leon didn't share quite the same appreciation for it, but if Shel loved it so much, he supposed it couldn't be bad.

At long last, dinner was ready, and the two decided to forgo the table and snuggle up together on the couch with their plates. It was a chilly, rainy evening outside, but Shel's cozy living room was warm, and the gentle patter of the rain against the windows was pleasant. Leon's belly rumbled again as they got themselves situated. Shel gave it an affectionate pat, unable to hold back an amused grin.

"Hey, you had lunch today, didn't you?"

"Huh? Um, I think so. Probably?" Leon ran through the long, busy work day in his mind. Shel rolled his eyes.

"Eat your fish, you goofball," he said, smiling fondly. Leon didn't need to be told twice. He gladly obliged, and Shel gladly joined him. Everything had come out perfect. The fish was flaky and flavorful, and the vegetables were tender but still just crisp enough. Leon's empty stomach welcomed the first delicious bites with open arms.

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to eat this whole thing," remarked Shel, and Leon chuckled.

"Have you ever eaten a whole anything?"

"I ate a whole pea once," said Shel. "Skin and all." Leon laughed out loud, covering his mouth in an attempt to keep himself from dribbling half-chewed squash all over the place, and Shel grinned down at him.

As it turned out, Shel was right. He had the stomach capacity of a stray chihuahua, and, despite a valiant effort, the big hunk of fish proved to be just a bit too much. He set the plate on the coffee table, covering it with a napkin to keep the cats out of his leftovers, and settled himself against Leon's lap, resting his hands on his full tummy.

"Full already?"

"Stuffed." Even not having cleaned his plate, Shel had pushed himself just a smidge too far, his stomach teetering just on the edge of discomfort. His tummy poked out ever so slightly under his soft pajama shirt, and Leon gave it a gentle pat.

"Boy, I'll say," he said, surprised at how firm his belly felt. He supposed it couldn't have felt too bad, though; that pinched pout of discomfort he was all too familiar with was nowhere to be seen on Shel's pretty face, only a content, sleepy little smile. Leon gazed down at him a moment, utterly gripped by his beauty--his delicate features, the crinkles of the smile in his eyes, the sea of silver waves that was his hair.

"Leon, eat your dinner," said Shel, both amused and touched by the look of adoration on Leon's face. It wasn't a look he'd ever imagined anybody might direct toward him, but it was one he was almost growing used to now--used to, but certainly not tired of.

"You're very distracting, you know," said Leon, tenderly brushing one of Shel's remaining mousy brown hairs out of his face before picking up his fork again. Shel smiled innocently at him, batting his eyelashes sweetly. Leon rolled his eyes and took another bite of salmon. He was beginning to feel full himself, although not quite full enough to slow down; each bite was still just as irresistible as the last. He didn't start slowing down until he was nearly finished, his belly growing snug against his shirt.

While he only had a few bites left on his plate, Leon's stomach had finally begun to catch up with him, and those last few bites were beginning to seem like a lot. He paused for a moment, letting out a little sigh. His belly gurgled softly as its contents settled, and he brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a quiet burp. Shel gazed up at him adoringly from his lap, appreciating the mundane sweetness of his movements and the way the glow of the light filtering through his thick, dark hair from above made him look like an angel. It wasn't an angle he often saw Leon from, being taller than him. Leon glanced down suddenly, finally noticing Shel's stare.

"Hey, good-lookin'," said Shel with a suave smile, and then he broke into laughter at the cheesy line. Somebody at work had once said that Shel's laugh sounded like an old man being smothered to death, but as far as Leon was concerned, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He grinned down at him and ruffled his hair.

"Hey! I just brushed that," Shel exclaimed, grabbing at Leon's hand.

"You're gonna make me drop broccoli all over your head!"

"I'll just pick it off and feed it to you," teased Shel, reaching up and plucking a piece of broccoli from Leon's plate. "Finish your dinner already so we can get to foolin' around." Leon laughed, and Shel fed him the broccoli, then licked off his fingers.

Slowly but surely, Leon finished off the last few bites of his dinner, his belly feeling snug and tight as he pushed it just over the edge of stuffed. It had rounded out nicely against his shirt, not alarmingly distended but undeniably and visibly full. He set his plate down beside Shel's on the table and leaned back with a sigh. Another little burp bubbled up and escaped, and he rested a hand atop his belly.

"Man, that was a big hunk of fish," he said, rubbing at the taut bulge of his stomach.

"Wasn't it? And you were makin' fun of me," teased Shel.

"I still ate the whole thing, though," said Leon.

"I guess so," agreed Shel. He lifted Leon's shirt up just enough to expose his belly button, then leaned his head in to plant a kiss on his tummy. Leon blushed brightly. With an adoring look in his eyes, Shel sat his hands on Leon's sides, idly rubbing the soft skin of his belly with one thumb. Slowly and deliberately, he placed another kiss, letting his lips linger against the warm surface for an extra moment. Then, he snuggled up against Leon, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist and resting his cheek against his tummy.

He remained there while Leon gently stroked his hair, listening to the soft gurgles of his belly as it worked away at the big dinner. As big as it had been, neither of them felt uncomfortably full, although it wouldn't have taken much more to get them there. Leon rested his other hand on Shel's tummy, enamored with the way it bulged just barely noticeably under his shirt. This was all that "foolin' around" would consist of tonight; they both were full and sleepy and perfectly content to simply stay there and hold each other.

[punkcherries]

i am now thinking abt alex and haley sdv

[verai-marcel]

Okay, so i have a request if you don't mind. It's modern AU, and it's fem!reader. She gets dared to go into the boys' locker room (college au or something) and take pictures of the boys. You already have good relations with most of the men. So you hide in the locker, and something happens which leads you to get caught, Arthur (who probably has feelings for you), and the other men, turned on by this they decide to punish you. (ps Sorry if this sounds creepy. if you're uncomfortable just ignore)

Locker Room Lesson (RDR2 Fanfic, AM/JM/CS/JE x Fem!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You are in the photography club at your local community college, and have made fast friends with a group of ladies who share your thirst for a particular group of men who play on the rugby team. When they dare you to take photos of them in the locker room after a practice, you foolishly agree. But what happens if you get caught? 

Author’s Notes: Oh my. I may or may not have seen a few porns for this, and tbh, this kind of stuff turns me the fuck on. Let’s do this. Also, I picked community college because there’s generally a wider variety of ages there. So this will hopefully appeal to you, dear reader! The guys, well, I guess they’re roughly the same ages that they are in the game, so Arthur’s 35, and the rest are in their mid to early twenties.

Tags: gangbang, multiple partners, tropey porn plot, filthy smut, rough sex, doggy style, anal sex, blowjob, double penetration, facial, creampie, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, darlin’.

——————–

Hiding in the men’s locker room on campus was quite possibly the worst idea you’d ever had, but at least you could say you did the dare. When your friends in the photography club had dared you take some suggestive photos of some of the guys playing rugby, you unwisely boasted that it’d be easy peasy.

So now here you were, tucked into one of the bigger lockers, quietly waiting for the men to leave so you could sneak out. Thumbing through the photos on your camera, you had a few good shots of each of them, so at least it was worth your time.

Javier was lean, tanned, a beautiful specimen of a man. His fingers were long and graceful that could play a guitar like an extension of his body. When you saw him in front of the music building, he always smiled and nodded his head at you, and in class, he’d ask if he could copy your notes, claiming they were the best organized. Listening to him play on the campus plaza was a relaxing treat.

Charles was brawny, a beefcake with the strength to block almost anyone who came at him. When he was working out and you saw his back muscles flex, your breath was always taken away. He was quiet, but always helpful; on multiple occasions, he had taken a heavy box or bag from you and walked with you to your destination, no matter how far. It wasn’t like you couldn’t carry it on your own, but he seemed to have a need to help others.

John was wiry, a bit lanky, but had a smile that melted your heart. He was an honest man, even if he was kind of a goofball, and helping him out in math class was a joy, seeing him light up when he understood something you explained. He was always grateful for your help, and he returned the favor by running errands for you for the photography club when he had time.

And Arthur. Good lord, that man was perfect; the broad shoulders, perfect ass, powerful legs. Not exactly the brightest academically, but coming in as an older student, he had a lot of life experience that you could respect. He was in three of your classes, and you only started talking to him because you noticed his drawings during the studio art class.

“Never painted a day in my life,” he had told you, but anything he drew, for whatever reason, was filled with emotion. Even as he got criticized for his technique, the professor always gave him points for “good feeling,” whatever that meant.

Your ears perked up at the sound of male laughter, and you mentally sighed. You got the feeling that you were stuck in here for a while. You started to sort through some of your photos, picking and choosing which ones to keep.

Then the door to your locker suddenly opened. You nearly dropped your phone and stared, blinking at the bright light before your eyes readjusted.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Arthur smirked, looking like a cat that caught the mouse.

You panicked. “Um, just… hiding?”

John, Javier, and Charles appeared behind him. 

“What’re you doin’? John asked innocently.

Javier laughed. “She’s taking pictures of us, idiot.”

Lightning quick, your phone was snatched from your hands as Arthur took your wrist and pulled you out of the locker.

“Hey wait!” you yelped.

“Hmmm… these are pretty good photos,” Arthur mumbled as he flipped through your images. 

Charles peered over his shoulder. After a few moments, he looked up towards you. “You shouldn’t have snuck in here.”

Walking closer to you, Javier put an arm up on the lockers and leaned against it, effectively cornering you. “Who put you up to this?”

You looked away. You weren’t telling.

Arthur chuckled as he handed your phone back to you. “None of us are naked, but pretty damn close to.” He moved closer to you, the other men following suit. You felt like you were being caged in by a wall of meat.

Leaning in, he took your chin between his thumb and fingers. “Now darlin’, I think you need to pay us back for bein’ such good models, don’tcha think?”

“Only if you’re willing,” Charles added.

You swallowed.

John finally seemed to understand the implications and smiled at you. “We won’t hurt you.”

Javier was just quietly watching you, but from the way you were licking your lips, he had an inkling you weren’t against the idea.

It was a little hard to think, having so many hunks right next to you. Were they really offering what you thought? Did they all want to… have their way with you? Together?

Your heart pounded and your libido shot through the roof. You mentally drooled at the thought.

Arthur stepped back, concern on his face. “You can say no, we won’t be troubled.”

“I do, I do want to pay you back,” you quickly said. Biting your lip, you quietly asked, “Are you asking… what I think you’re asking?”

The men all smirked and chuckled.

Charles held his hand out to you. “If you think we’re asking you to give us your body to pleasure, then yes.”

You stepped towards them and took his hand.

***

Guiding you to the nearest bench, Charles sat you down as the other men circled around you. Arthur stood back, watching as John and Javier stood on either side of Charles.

You watched, gleefully, as the three of them took out their cocks. Each one different, each one so mouth-watering in their size and girth. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

Charles stepped forward. “Open up, honey.”

You took him into your mouth, and he stayed still as you bobbed your head around his thick member, twirling your tongue around the head. He sighed, his hand resting on your head and petting you. You shivered with pleasure at the feeling of his fingertips running along your scalp.

Your hands were taken by John and Javier, and they each wrapped one of your hands around their cocks. Getting the idea, you started to jerk them off as you sucked on Charles.

“Give us some of that pretty little mouth too, querida,” Javier said softly.

You alternated, giving them each some oral attention, looking up at them as you pleasured them. When it was his turn, Javier looked at you with a dark lust in his eyes. He reached down and caressed your cheek, before grabbing the back of your neck and holding you in place as he shallowly fucked your mouth, a bit dominating as he hummed his approval.

When you switched to John, he just closed his eyes and moaned quietly, his hips jerking forward, his cock nearly hitting the back of your throat. You pulled away, and he immediately apologized. You smiled and continued to suck on the tip of him.

Charles tapped John on the shoulder, and he pulled away from your mouth. You whimpered, and then looked past them at Arthur, who was leaning against the lockers, watching you with a lurid stare.

“Arthur?” you asked.

“I’ll take my time with you later,” he uttered quietly, a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine.

Your attention turned back to the others as they helped you remove your clothes, surrounding you with caresses and kisses as your skin was revealed. Soon you were naked, watching the three of them take off their own clothes so they could surround you once more.

Charles laid out a towel onto the ground and brought you down, laying you on your back. He let your head rest on his lap, his cock hovering near your mouth. You licked the tip, earning a pleased rumble. Javier came around and kneeled before you, touching your knees and spreading your legs apart.

“You look beautiful, querida,” he said as he stroked your center, spreading your love juices around your folds. “Can’t wait to make you sing.”

Then he leaned over you and curled two long, slender fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot inside that made you quiver and pant.

“M-more!” you cried out.

John kneeled beside you and started playing with your breasts. “You heard the woman. Give her what she wants.”

Javier grinned as he took his fingers out and pushed the head of his cock against your opening. You took a deep breath as he entered you, your muscles squeezing him.

“Feels so good,” he groaned as he made it all the way inside. He waited a few moments before lifting his hips and started moving, taking his time, rolling his hips and making sure he was hitting that wonderful spot inside.

Charles tilted your head towards him. “Don’t forget about me, honey.”

You gladly opened your mouth and pleasured Charles while Javier fucked you. John’s hands were on you, squeezing and pinching your nipples, and you reached out to stroke his cock in return.

“Your turn, brother,” Javier said after a while, pulling away from you and swapping places with John.

John had less finesse but more energy as he kneeled between your legs and lifted you up by your hips. He aimed his shaft at your pussy and just thrust forward, slamming inside of you. He was rough, lost in his desire as he just pounded into you, his heavy breathing and his occasional moan the only sounds he made.

You had been licking Charles for so long, that when he moved, you whimpered.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you something to occupy your mouth,” John said as he switched places with Charles.

John was as rough with your mouth as he was with your pussy, thrusting shallowly so you wouldn’t choke, but still moving fast, like he couldn’t control himself, desperately driving towards the pleasure your mouth brought him.

Charles played with you a little more than the other two, stroking your clit with his thumb while he teased your pussy with his cock, dipping the head inside and then coming back out, not giving you everything you wanted.

“Please Charles,” you begged. “Please fuck me!”

Charles gripped your hips and slowly entered you, a look of focus on his face. “You’re so tight.”

You writhed; he was not as long as the others, but his girth was almost too much for your body to take. You were glad you were stretched out first.

Javier caressed your clit, and when you gasped, he stroked in earnest, watching you moan around the cock in your mouth. 

“Look at you, such a sexy woman,” Javier praised. “Taking so much cock, you must love this.”

You just hummed in agreement as you felt Charles hilt inside of you. He rolled his hips slowly a few times, and your hips lifted in return, wanting that fullness of his cock to stay inside of you.

“You wanted this?” Charles asked.

You nodded. 

“Never would’ve guessed. Such a bad girl.” His voice was so low that the rumbling vibrated against your body, making you mewl with need. 

“Bad girls get punished, don’t they?” John asked.

You nodded around his cock.

“Get the lube,” Arthur said from his spot against the lockers.

Javier suddenly left, and Charles lifted you up into his arms. Laying down on his back, he grabbed your ass and spread your cheeks.

“You gonna take all of us?” John asked, gripping your neck.

“Yes!” you pleaded.

“That’s right. Take your punishment and be a good girl,” John crooned as he let go of you and pet your head.

Javier returned, a tube of some viscous liquid in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly worried about some unsafe chemicals going into your rear.

“It’s J-Lube. Don’t worry darlin’, it’s safe,” Arthur said, a tone of experience in his voice.

Trusting him with your safety, you relaxed and let Javier squirt some into his hand and spread it along his fingers.

You clenched when you felt him slip one finger into your rear entrance.

All three men began to soothe you. Charles reached down to play with your clit, keeping you distracted, John came around to give you his cock to suck on, giving your head a much needed scalp massage as you did so, and Javier rubbed your back, his finger going deeper inside.

As you relaxed, he squeezed in a second finger, then a third, stretching you out slowly and methodically. You had finally relaxed and gotten used to the intrusion, and started to rock your hips while moaning softly. Javier pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his member. He pushed in slowly, making sure you could take him.

“Just tell us if it hurts,” he told you as he slid all the way into you.

All you could do was whimper and move your hips. You were so full of cock, and it was amazing; feeling the three of them begin to move in rhythm, taking your body, using you as their fuck toy as they ‘punished’ you for spying on them.

You loved it. There was no thinking, just feeling, just being.

And in the midst of that, your climax built up, higher and higher, until Javier slapped your ass, and Charles grabbed your neck while he reached down and thumbed your clit.

“Come for us, sweetheart,” John growled.

“We want to feel you, querida.”

John’s shaft muffled your scream as you came, spasming around them, pleasure bursting through your body like fireworks. The aftershocks kept coming as they continued to pound into you, not letting up for a moment, no mercy on your almost relaxed body.

“Fuck,” John mumbled and pulled back after you were done screaming. “Almost came.”

You let out a soft cry, already missing the fullness of him in your mouth, but then Charles reached up and pulled you against him, one arm around you, one hand gripping your neck.

“You ready, honey?”

“For what?” you asked.

Charles smiled, and looked back at Javier and nodded. You felt Javier leave your body. Effortlessly, Charles wrapped his arms around you and stood up, still inside of you. You squealed with both a bit of fear and excitement. 

Then you felt Javier enter you from behind again, and the two men pistoned in and out of you, holding you up between the two of them.

“You want our forgiveness, honey?”

“Yes, yes!”

Charles and Javier both pulled out of you and eased you onto your knees. Charles stood in front of you, his massive hand on top of your head, his other hand stroking himself quickly.

“Beg for me,” he breathed.

“Please,” you said, big eyes looking up at him. “Please, I’ll be good.”

Charles could only bellow as he came onto you, ropes of his cum dripping from your chin and nipples. Taking a few staggered breaths, he stood back, and Javier took his place, his hand rapidly beating off.

“Say you’re our special girl.”

“I’m your special girl.”

He moaned as he came all over you, sighing your name before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“Gracias, querida.”

John came back into your view, and he grinned before grasping your neck.

“Sweetheart, that mouth of yours… give it to me.”

You gladly opened up and let John fuck your mouth until he groaned and came, spilling down your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, and when he stepped away, grinning at you, you grinned back.

Then all of a sudden, Arthur cleared his throat. Everyone looked over at him, and you noticed his eyes were completely focused on you.

“Get yerselves clean again,” he told the others without looking at them. You heard them all chuckle and exit the room, leaving you alone with Arthur.

He pushed away from the lockers and walked up to you. He pulled his cock from his pants and stroked it slowly.

“Lookit’chu, all dirty with cum,” he sneered. “You like bein’ used?”

You bit your lip, and you tasted a bit of everyone’s cum on your lips.

“Look at me.”

You looked up at him. 

“You want to be used by me?”

You swallowed and nodded quickly. Your body burned for him, lusted after him in a way you didn’t realize you could. Sure, you thought he was a hunk before, but he had been friendly, gentle, safe. Right now, he was giving off the vibes of a predator, of an alpha male who would dominate you, own you… 

…and protect you.

You suddenly wanted him so badly that you could hardly contain yourself. You started to crawl towards him, unconscious of how you looked.

A knowing smile slowly spread across his face as he watched you kneel in front of him. You tentatively licked the tip of his cock before kissing it, slowly opening your mouth more and more to take in more of him, until you had filled your mouth full. Pulling back while sucking on him, you released him with a loud pop sound. You looked up and gave him a teasing smile.

“You gonna play with me that way, huh?” Arthur grabbed you by the base of your neck and pulled you up until you were standing, then flipped you around, your back to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, his lips biting your neck. 

“Bend over,” he growled, forcing you to bend at the waist, one hand on your shoulder. Your hands shot out to balance yourself against the lockers, and you turned your head to see him looking down, aiming his cock at your wet entrance. He glanced up and kept eye contact with you as he pushed his way in.

“Keep lookin’ at me, darlin’,” he crooned as he entered you. “Wanna see yer eyes when I take you.”

When your head started to droop, he grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your head and pulled, forcing you to look at him until his hips were flush with your ass.

“So good,” he said softly as he started to build up a rhythm, letting go of your hair to grip your hips. You were lost to the feel of him demolishing your coherent thoughts; all you could focus on was the pounding of your flesh, his soft grunts and moans as he enjoyed what you gave him.

When he reached down to stroke your core, it was too much, and you cried out his name.

Quickly, a hand reached around your mouth, quieting you down as you came around him, your legs beginning to shake.

“Shhh, can’t let anyone else know yer in here,” he warned. Pulling out of you, he kept you upright as he turned you around to face him. Picking you up around the waist, he carried you to the back wall of the locker room, farthest from the door.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded as he pushed you against the wall, angling his hips so he could enter you again.

You wrapped your legs around him, and he grabbed your butt so that he was holding you up as he started to fuck you against the wall.

“Like that, darlin’? Like it when I fuck you hard?”

“Oh god, yes,” you keened, clinging onto him and burying your head into his shoulder.

The sounds of him rutting into you, flesh against flesh, and his harsh breathing combined with your soft moans filled the room. He shifted you slightly higher on the wall and pressed his body against yours. The warmth of his body was a sharp contrast to the cold wall behind you. He angled his thrusts and suddenly slammed into you harder, deeper, and you curled your toes, feeling the ripples of pleasure from your core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out as your climax bowled you over, and you held onto Arthur for dear life as you spasmed, shaking from the strength of your orgasm.

“Wanna come inside of ya,” Arthur grunted.

“Yes, please!” you begged. 

With a low groan, he smashed you against the wall, holding you tight as he came inside of you, his hips jerking forward occasionally as he filled you full. He whispered your name lovingly, nuzzling your cheek as he came down from his high.

“Darlin’, my sweet darlin’,” he murmured as he slowly let you down from the wall and helped you to the bench. He sat down, with you in his lap, and held you close.

“Been wantin’ to do that fer a long time,” he confessed. “Probably since the second week of last semester.”

You remembered that week. That was the week you had first met him and had a long talk with him at the local cafe, where your friendship started. You remembered finding him attractive, and also, regretfully, decided for yourself that he was out of your league.

“Really?” You couldn’t believe that he wanted you.

“Yeah, really.” He kissed your cheek. “I know this started off… a bit strange, but… would you be interested… in… um… goin’ on a date?”

You blinked.

Then you burst out laughing.

“Yes, yes, of course!” you said after a few moments. “I never thought you’d ask. I thought… I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Arthur laughed. “Here I was thinkin’ the same thing.”

You couldn’t believe that. Arthur? He was so talented, so friendly, so handsome… he was such a good man, and he thought he wasn’t good enough? You knew you’d have to rectify that in the future.

He pressed his forehead against yours. “I ain’t sharin’ you again,” he said.

You kissed his cheek. “That’s fine. You’re plenty enough for me”

Arthur’s smile was worth the dare.

——————–

End Notes: Oh yes, J-Lube exists. Recommended by a porn star. Remember fam, don’t do anal unless you’ve cleaned yourself up properly and acquired the right lube! Also, I split the sexy time into two scenes because it’s very hard for me to write that many men in one scene, so I had to take Arthur out; I tried at first, but it just wasn’t working, logistically-speaking. Anon, I hope this fulfilled your sex fantasy; it sure as hell fulfilled mine, hehehehehe!

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

Another One Bites The Dust (AOBTD) ~ Chapter 18

Warning(s): FLUFF!!! Language. Angst. Pregnancy. Mentions of miscarriage. Soft side to Negan shows.

Taglist: @negans-network , @thamberlina , @prettyboynegan , @mychemicalimagines

Previous Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. 

Chapter 18 ~ In Case You Didn’t Know

I smile as soon as I walk into my bedroom. Tim’s finally up and moving ‘round. He still has some trouble walking long distances, but he’s gotten better in the three weeks since he woke up from the coma he was in. Jeffrey’s got one arm wrapped ‘round Tim’s waist as the two walk ‘round. 

Jeffrey helps him turn ‘round so they can face me. Their faces both light up once they see me.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tim says.

“Hey, doll.” Jeffrey says, grinning.

“Hi, boys.” I say.

They both chuckle.

“In case you didn’t know, doll, we’re not exactly boys. We’re men.” Jeffrey teases.

I laugh. “I’m well aware of the fact that you’re both men. But, you’re still my boys.”

This has both of ‘em blushing, and grinning from ear-to-ear. Jeffrey helps Tim walk over to the bed, where they both settle down. I sit in front ‘em, crossing my legs under me. I reach one hand out to each of ‘em. They both willingly lace their fingers with mine. 

They both stare at our hands.

“You know we’re men, don’t you?” Tim asks, teasingly.

I giggle. “Of course I know. Besides…I have somethin’ to tell y’all that further solidifies that you’re both men.”

This has their attention. They both look up at me, curious as to what I’m ‘bout to say, but they also look worried.

“You’re ok, right, doll?” Jeffrey asks.

I grin and nod. “I’m actually better than ok.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

Tim chuckles. “That’s good. You wanna let us in on what’s got you so good, baby?”

I bite my lip and glance down. “I’m pregnant.”

I hear Jeffrey cough and Tim suck in a deep breath. I look up at ‘em. They both look really happy, but also shocked.

“You wanna say that again, sweetie?” Jeffrey asks, quietly. “I’m not quite sure I heard you right.”

I giggle. “You heard just fuckin’ fine and you know it.”

He smirks. “Maybe so. But, I wanna hear you say it again.”

“Me too.” Tim agrees.

“I said, ‘I’m pregnant’.” I repeat.

They both grin from ear-to-ear, their eyes lighting up.

“So…we’re gonna be actual dads?” Tim asks.

I grin and nod. “Yep! Now don’t ask me which one of you two knocked me up, ‘cause I don’t know.”

Jeffrey laughs and reaches forward to place a hand on my tummy. Tim does the same. Their fingers overlap each other’s.

“That doesn’t matter, doll. That’s still our kid. It doesn’t matter which one of us knocked you up. We’re both still gonna take care of you and the baby.” Jeffrey says.

I smile. “I know. That’s why I love you both.”

“We fuckin’ love you too, baby. Ain’t that right, hubby?”

Tim chuckles. “Fuck yeah it’s right.”

I giggle. “Goofballs.”

“Your goofballs.”

I smile and nod. Jeffrey looks up at me.

“When’d you find out?” He asks.

“This mornin’. I stopped by to see Doc to get some more pain meds for Tim, and he noticed somethin’ was off with me. Then, I got sick in his office. He asked me when my last cycle was, and after I told him, he had me take a pregnancy test to double check. When it came back positive, he knew there wasn’t anythin’ else wrong with me. I came straight here to tell y’all.” I say.

My boys both smile, letting their dimples show. I lean forward and kiss ‘em both on the forehead.

“Have you told Alyss or Negan yet?” Jeffrey asks.

I shake my head. “I wanted y’all to be the first people I told. You know, seeing as this is y’all’s child too.”

Tim chuckles. “You’re right ‘bout that. When do you wanna tell the rest of the family?”

I shrug. “Maybe later tonight.”

They both nod, giving me the all clear that they’re ok with me telling Negan and Alyss the good news later.

“How far along do you think you are, doll?” Jeffrey asks.

“Doc guessed ‘round two and a half to three months. It’s kinda hard to know for sure these days.” I say.

“That makes sense. I guess we’ll need to start lookin’ for baby items when we go out on runs.”

I nod. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout that.”

Tim looks at Jeffrey and whispers something to him quietly. Jeffrey takes a deep breath in and replies just as quietly. I wish I knew what they were talkin’ ‘bout. There’s a set of three heavy knocks on our bedroom door.

“C’mon in.” I call out.

The door opens. My best friend and my brother-in-law walk in. Alyss grins as soon as she sees me and rushes over to hug me. Negan chuckles and sits down beside his brother and brother-in-law. I hug Alyss back before she settles down next to me. 

She glances down at the hands on my belly and looks up at me, questioningly.

“You ok, kid?” She asks.

I nod. “Fuck yeah!”

She laughs. I always say “Fuck Yeah!” in response to her questions that warrant an answer like that. It’s an inside joke between us that we’ve had since before the apocalypse started. One of our favorite magicians, who was known for being silent, once said it and it stuck with us.

“You boys just can’t seem to keep your hands off your wife, can y’all?” Negan teases.

Tim and Jeffrey both laugh before pulling their hands away from my tummy. I miss the warmth as soon as they do. They both look at me, grinning. Negan looks between them and I.

“Alright. What the fuck am I missing here?” He asks.

Jeffrey chuckles. “How do you feel ‘bout bein’ an Uncle?”

Negan’s brow furrows. “I’m already an Uncle. To Angel.”

I giggle. “Well, yea…but how ‘bout to another kid?”

“What are you getting’ at, Half Pint? Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?”

I smirk. “What do you think I’m sayin’, Tank?”

“You got a little munchkin on the way?”

I laugh. “Fuck yeah!”

Negan’s face switches from confusion to pure happiness. He starts to say somethin’ but he can’t get the words out. He just stops sputtering and grins. Alyss lets out a happy noise from beside me. Next thing I know, she’s got her arms ‘round me and is hugging me tightly. 

She lays her head on my shoulder.

“This mean I get to be an Aunt?” She asks, excitedly.

I place both my hands on her forearm, giggling. I rest my head against hers.

“Yes, bud. You get to be an Aunt.” I reply, smiling.

She hugs me tighter. “I’m so excited. This is gonna be fun.”

I nod. It really is. I look at the boys. They’re all grinning from ear-to-ear.

“I’m gonna be an Uncle!” Negan says, chuckling. “There’s gonna be a new Savior in the makin’!”

I groan. “My kid is not going to be a Savior, Tank.”

“Why not? He’d be the best Savior ever. I just know it.”

“We don’t even know if we’re havin’ a boy or girl. But, regardless, I don’t want to think ‘bout my child goin’ out on runs, fightin’ dead’uns, and potentially gettin’ hurt.”

Negan’s face softens. “Ok. I can understand that. Who knows…maybe by the time the little squirt’s grown up, things’ll be back to the way they were before, and there won’t be any dead’uns roamin’ ‘round.”

“That’d be a miracle. Who knows?”

“I can’t believe you’re gonna have a kid, Leigh!” Alyss says, dragging my attention to her.

I giggle. “I know. It’s gonna be great.”

She nods her head against my shoulder. “Damn straight it is.”

“Any idea whose youngin it is?” Negan asks, jokingly.

“Mine!” Both of my boys say at the same time.

Negan, Alyss, and I all laugh. Negan looks at my husbands.

“Last I checked…it only takes one man to get a woman pregnant.” He teases.

“Nah fuckin’ dip, Sherlock.” Jeffrey retorts. “As far as Tim and I are concerned, it doesn’t matter which one of us got Leigh pregnant. That kid is both of ours. We’ll both be its fathers.”

I smile. I know we’d always talked ‘bout settling down, getting married, and having kids, but that was before the world ended. Plus, we never had the chance to discuss what we’d actually do if we had kids. At least…as far which one would want to be the father or how we’d handle it. 

It makes my heart swell with love to know that my husbands are both so accepting of the fact that I’m pregnant. And, that it doesn’t really matter to either of ‘em when it comes to which one of ‘em knocked me up.

“Leigh?”

I look up at Negan. “Hmmm?”

He chuckles. “I was just askin’ if I could um … shit … you know … um …”

“Just spit it out, Tank.” I tease.

He blushes slightly. “Can I touch your belly?”

He sounds so nervous to ask me that. I smile and nod. His face lights up as he slowly reaches a hand out to touch my tummy. His hand pretty much covers my entire lower stomach. Negan bites his lip, as he gets lost in his thoughts. A look of sadness fills his eyes. 

I know that look. It’s one of loss. I gently place my hand over his. He looks up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“This kid’s gonna be loved every single day.” He mumbles, his voice cracking slightly. “They’re gonna be ok.”

“Of course they are. They have two lovin’ fathers, a lovin’ mum, a lovin’ uncle, and a lovin’ aunt.” I reply, softly.

He nods. He suddenly turns his head, but not before I catch a tear rolling down his cheek. He gets up and excuses himself from the room. I look at my husbands, who both look confused.

“I’ll be right back.” I say.

They nod and Alyss shifts, leaning off me. I get up and head after Negan. I find him in his room. He’s curled up in the corner, holding Lucille softly, along with something else. I make my way over to him and sit down beside him. I lay my head on his shoulder, just being there for him as he cries. 

I realize that the something in his hand is a worn-out photograph. Looking at it, I realize it’s an ultrasound. My heart breaks as I realize what this means. I wrap my arms ‘round my very broken hearted brother-in-law. His sobs get louder as I hold onto him.

I don’t say a word, but just comfort him as he mourns the loss of his unborn child. I know the kid was unborn ‘cause Negan has the ultrasound picture. If the kid had been born, then Negan would most likely have an actual photo.

“He’d be three now.” He mumbles. “We had everything picked out. Colors. A name. Clothes. Furniture. Everything. I even picked up this bat for him the day we found out we were havin’ a boy.”

He runs his fingers up and down the handle of Lucille. The meaning of how much the barbed wire baseball bat means to him hits me like a freight train. It’s not just some bat with a name. The bat’s named after his late wife who meant the world to him, and whom he misses dearly every single day. 

It represents the life he could’ve had with his son. It’s all he has left of his own family from before, aside from Jeffrey. I tighten my arms ‘round him, but don’t say anything.

He continues talking, quietly. “We lost him in an accident. I was late comin’ home from the school one day. Lucy…she’d tried callin’ me, but I didn’t answer ‘cause I was busy. I should’ve answered that damn phone call. I figured I’d just surprise her when I got home. I got to the house right as my phone started ringing. I didn’t recognize the number, but I just had this feeling that I had to answer it.

He pauses. “It was the hospital, calling me since I was listed as Lucille’s emergency contact, and she was mine. They told me she was there and asked me to come immediately. I turned the car ‘round and sped to the hospital. I don’t think I’ve ever driven that fast. By the time I’d gotten there, my baby boy…he was already gone. I didn’t even get the chance to hold him in my arms.

His voice cracks. “Apparently Lucy had fallen, gettin’ outta the shower. The force from the fall killed him. We found out two weeks later, just after we’d buried our son, that Lucille had cancer and was only given nine months to live. In less than a year, I lost my son, my wife, and the fuckin’ world ended.”

My heart breaks. He lost everything that mattered to him. He lifts the photo up so I can see it better.

“He had my nose and her eyes. I know you can’t really tell from this photo, but I’m tellin’ you, Half Pint, he did. He was gonna be so fuckin’ cute. I just knew it.” He says, proudly.

I lift my head to look at him. He glances down at me. The tears have stopped, but his cheeks are still wet. I cup his cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Negan. I can’t even imagine the pain you felt, still feel even, from losing ‘em both. I know you’d have made a damn good father.” I assure him.

He sniffles and nods. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad. I was so fuckin’ excited when we found out that we were gonna have a kid.”

“I kinda figured based on your reaction when you found out I was pregnant. If you got that excited ‘bout bein’ an uncle, I can only imagine how happy you’d be if you found out you were gonna be a dad.”

He gives me a small smile. “I miss ‘em both. ‘Specially my little boy that I never got to meet. Is that fucked up? I miss a baby I never got to see, never got to hold. I loved him more than anything, but I never got to meet him.”

I shake my head. “Honey – ah ah. Don’t look at me like that. You’re family, which means you’re subjected to a few sweet terms of endearment. And you know that I mean it in a platonic, family way. Not the way in which I refer to my husbands when I call ‘em ‘honey’.”

Negan chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Continue.”

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, honey, it’s not fucked up to miss your unborn child. It’s not fucked up to love him. Even though you never got to see him, hold him, or meet him, he was still your child. I love my unborn child that I just found out ‘bout this mornin’. Once you find out that you’re gonna be a parent, it’s like there’s this part of you that just fills with love for this little human being. It’s like your heart gets filled with something that you didn’t realize you were missing. You know?”

He nods. “I do know. When Lucille told me that she was pregnant, I felt like I’d finally done something right in my life. Like everything was gonna be alright. Like, my life was complete. I had something to look forward to every day. Somethin’ that made me want to keep on living. To be a better person, husband, and hopefully father.”

“Exactly. It’s just part of being a parent. And, quite frankly if it’s fucked up to love and miss your unborn child, then I’m perfectly ok with being fucked up.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Me too, Half Pint. Me too.”

I shift so that I can hug my brother-in-law better. He gently sets Lucille and the ultrasound photo down on the ground beside him before wrapping his arms ‘round me.

“Thank you, Leigh. This means a lot to me. I’m sorry if I put a damper on your announcement.” He apologizes.

I shake my head and tighten my arms ‘round him. “Non-fuckin’-sense, Negan. You don’t have to apologize, ok? ‘Cause you didn’t do a damned thing wrong. You were hit with the sudden emotions of mournin’ your son and wife. I get it. Or at least, I can kinda understand it since I’ve never gone through that myself. There’s no need to apologize. ‘Sides, the boys kinda already celebrated the announcement before you walked in. So, you don’t have to apologize. Ok?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“As for you thankin’ me, brother, you don’t have to. You’re my family. You might be a stubborn, brutal asshole at times, but when it’s just you and me, or you, me, the boys, or you, me, and Alyss hangin’ out, you’re a total sweetheart. You’re human. You’re allowed to feel emotions, and everyone deserves someone that they can turn to and trust. I’m just glad that I can be that person for you.”

“Me too. I’m glad my brother met you. You’re too sweet, even when you have to beat someone to death, you still have your reasons, and you’re respectable. Plus, now that you’re married to my brother, that means you’re my sister-in-law, and I’m grateful for that.”

He tightens his arms ‘round me.

“I love you like the older brother I never had.” I tell him.

He chuckles. “And I love you like the little sister I never had.”

I smile. “What do you say we head back to the rest of the family? I think Angel should be getting back from her class here soon.”

“Angel! I gotta go see my sweet little niece!”

I chuckle and pull away from Negan. He stands up before reaching down to pick up the photo and Lucille. He walks over to his desk, tucking the photo away, and placing Lucille in the chair by his desk. I stand up and make my way to the door once I know Negan’s ready to follow me.

[pwnyta]

...So ya know Pokemon Quest and how theres Pokemon in it and how I get attached and then create characters for my Pokemon!?!?!?!?

AHH I dont have to do this... but I GOTTA.

This was the first draft of my main 2 teams... vvv more

I still dont have a good Ghastly to make my Gengar but w/e... I replaced my garbo Dratini with a Kabuto. Kabutos pretty dope but I shouldnt get attached because I still want Gengar and I already have a rock...

Second go--

Adio- A resurrected fossil Pokemon

Belladonna Raider- A former teacher turned fighter.

Danielle Acorah- A bored socialite who gave up bein fancy to kick some ass.

Etna Caldera- A former Silph Co inventor

Jupiter Dorje- a security officer for Silph co who left with her charge Etna... so I mean technically shes still doin the job she was hired for.

Robin Tilo- A FUCKIN DEAD GUY. ?????

Etna aint too big on the touchy touchy especially his wings... but Aerodactyl intrigue him so he lets Adio get away with shit. Jupiter is a little put out by it because shes been workin for this asshole for years and he still gets mad at her when she goes near his wings.

As I was doodlin... I tried to flesh them out a bit more.

Etna as Charizard usually do... has been trained as a fighter but he had no interest in battle as a sport and much preferred to invent things for the betterment of... people(specifically other Pokemon people rather than humans but also humans too if hes feelin generous)... Hes always known Silph co was shady but hed always hoped it would get better... but once it got worse he got tired of it and bounced. Hes got a target on his back now because he knows so much and also destroyed a fossil lab that was mistreating people like Adio who get resurrected and experimented on(they have no families to come looking for them).

Jupiter was hired to first protect Etna because he was a valuable asset. Shes always wanted to protect and serve and although she would have rather been a detective an more physical (or so she thought) job was better suited for her high energy. She spent most of her time just hanging out and chatting with Etna when he was busy... until one day he just kinda snapped and she was commanded to capture and destroy him. But seeing the labs she was never allowed in made her realize how fucked up the company was so she bounced with Etna and now protects him from anyone out to get him. Shes lost an eye protecting him.

Adio was resurrected fossil of Aerodactyl.  Resurrected fossil Pokies can have crazy skin colors thats why hes purple (the tint of the liquid hes in makes it look not purple in this pic IDK. Dont worry about it.) Back in the ancient times before he was a fossil he was an eccentric philosopher most other ancient people thought was crazy.

When he was resurrected he was prime for experimentation being a Shiny Aerodactyl... both of which are super rare and kind of looks like a missing link between the Zubat and Charmander lines.

Hes freed when Etna destroys the lab he was kept in and followed Etna and Jupiter. Hes a smart guy and picks up the language fairly quickly with Jupiters help even though she hates him a little for bonding so easily with Etna.

^^^ Three of the scientists that worked on Adio.

Doctor Regina a Mandibuzz who was very eager to be a biologist only to become really jaded when she found out the company she worked for was so janky... she stuck around because this is all shes trained for in her life so fuck it.

Doctor Kubao a Liepard who only really gives a fuck about getting his job done perfectly but as quickly as possible. Hes a little amoral on a small scale for  betterment on a larger scale... he’ll do fucked up experiments on  creatures to find cures for debilitating diseases and sleep easy at night. He dont give a fuck.

Doctor Roussel a Shiinotic whos got a crazy level of curiosity. Her desire to learn as taken her down a pretty dark path but she dont care. She unnerves her colleagues but shes just too damn good at her job no one would ever think to fire her. Kubao and Regina are the only ones who will work with her because they just dont give that much of a fuck.

The gives no fucks trio.

(Kubao will give a fuck if her curiosity gets in the way of his research though.)

Belladonna was a teacher and lost her job because... reasons. Being part Poison type she kinda gets some flack for being a ‘bad‘ type like Dark Pokies. She became a fighter because shes got bills to pay and shes good at it (something about a sick spouse I havent thought too much about oh well?). Shes the technical leader of the party because it was her idea and dealing with students most of her life... shes good at organizing groups of people and if that doesnt work she can just sic Jupiter on them.

I thought about making Danielle a pop star turned fighter... but I like the thought of her being a bored rich girl who decides to downgrade so she can get some proper glory by kicking ass. Although she first wanted to be a fighter on her own merits to spite her family shes swayed to join Raiders party... because shes got a thing for girls with a little beef on them and Jupiter and Raider are super hot. Being an Alakazam is kind of a drag for her because she really wants to be on the front lines but shes happy to show off her crazy special abilities and guard her team (and be saved by Jupiter and Raider if she gets cornered.)

Shes not really trained, shes young (the youngest of the team), and tends to be more bark than bite... but shes fun and playful and enjoys the thrill of battle and will go as far as shes needed so shes earned the respect of her team. Even if she is a goofball.

And although she kind of comes off as a dumb blonde she is an Alakazam and her intellect is good for strat.

...I didnt think much about Robin yet.... other than his human self died an unpopular nerd and isnt like most Ghosts who crave the memories of his past... hes havin fun in the now baby. He doesnt got time for the past. Maybe hes attracted by the high energy Psychic powers of Danielle.... or something IDK yet. He kinda has a FerrisBueller energy to him which means hes kind of a careless asshole... IDK.

[longestnight64448]

My Love For You *George Weasley X Reader*

The fire in the Gryffindor common room burned quietly in its hearth, providing ample light for George to read by. The hour was late, and all the other students had retired for the night. Even Fred had pleaded exhaustion and left his brother not too long ago.

George wanted to remain up a bit longer so that he could finish reading over some plans that he and Fred were formulating for the shop that would soon be theirs. George had so many plans for their joke shop: so many wonderful, fantastical plans. Why sleep when reality already promised a dream?

Suddenly the portrait entrance to the common room swung open and George turned in surprise to see one of his friends, Ave Cade, coming through.

"Have you been out this whole time?" he asked her in amusement.

"Yep!" Ave replied brightly.

"How did you manage to evade Umbridge the Usurper?" he asked curiously.

"I have my ways," she responded vaguely, sticking her tongue out in a friendly way as she plopped down beside him on the couch.

"So you're lookin' good, oh sweet purple flower of my heart," flirted George as he lightly flicked her bright purple hair.

"Don't you know it, orangey," Ave responded sassily, ruffling his hair in return.

"Ave, I meant to ask you," said George, "are you and Tonks related?" Ave gave a look of pretend shock.

"George Weasley!" she cried. "Are you implying that because Tonks and I are both Metamorphmagi, we must be related? Now that sounds rather racist to me. What if I asked if you and Fred are twins just because you happen to look alike?"

George grinned at the spunky girl.

"Well, I might say that you were right."

"Well there is that," conceded Ave, smiling. "But no, Tonks and I aren't related. She's like an older sister to me though; I love her so much. So tell me, what are you working on?"

"Bit of this and that," he answered vaguely. Looking into her expectant eyes, George laughed and grinned.

"I have these ideas," he continued eagerly, "for so many different things! Like... invisibility cloaks. What if we applied that principle but found a way to extend the magic outside of the enchanted object? Or, for those of us students who like Fred and me are not the most diligent in our classes, what if we could literally create a daydream for them? Not just a hazy vision, but actually put them in a place that feels real. Or fashion sprites, or pygmy puffs- there's just so much we can do!"

"I love it when you talk that way," teased Ave.

"Trust me love, I could keep going for hours," George teased back. "But perhaps not now, it has gotten pretty late after all. Do you have plans for tomorrow?"

"Oh absolutely," she responded very seriously. "My plans consist of not studying for Umbridge's test on Monday."

"What a coincidence!" exclaimed George with a grin. "Those were my plans for tomorrow as well. How would you like to not study together?"

"That could be fun," she returned. "I'll see you tomorrow then!" George watched Ave skip up the steps to the dormitory as he collected his papers. Feeling excited and light-hearted, George went to bed eager for the date he had long been wanting.

~

"George, wait!" shouted Ave desperately. George's eyes solemnly locked with hers as he and Fred stopped in midair. Without another word, the eye contact was broken; Fred and George gave huge grins to the crowd as they zoomed off into the sky, much to the students' delight.

Ave felt heartbroken as she watched George fly away. While they had never made their relationship official, Ave and George had been seeing each other every so often for a couple months now. Although he wasn't technically her boyfriend, Ave loved him very much and she couldn't understand how he could just leave her like that. He hadn't even warned her first.

George grinned at his equally thrilled twin brother, but his smile faltered when he thought of Ave calling out to him. More than anything he wished that she could have come with them, but he hadn't dared ask. She needed to finish her education, even if it wasn't where he belonged. Besides, she was probably better off without him. Times were becoming dangerous, and George didn't want her to be endangered because of him. That was a feeble reason however. Although he didn't care to admit it, George found himself afraid to commit; afraid to devote himself to anyone in such dark times. He was too afraid that something might happen to her, and he would be torn apart. The thought was simply too terrifying. It was better simply to leave, and not to see Ave anymore.

Inside of Hogwarts, a tribute to the twins remained in the form of a swamp throughout a massive section of the corridors. Despite her hurt, Ave couldn't help but to be both amused and impressed at her love's prowess in charms. Even the teachers were admiring his work. When Umbridge forced Flitwick to set it all right (being too incompetent to do it herself), the teacher left a small portion of the swamp intact as a sort of memorial.

For the rest of her seventh year, Ave found that she liked to come back to the swampy area, just to think- mostly to reminisce about her time with George. They had been friends since their very first year of school, and in that time they'd become incredibly close. Ave was close with Fred as well, but it was never quite the same. George had all those funny, charming quirks, but there was something softer, more caring about him that she loved.

Ave could remember all the pranks Fred and George had pulled on her, and all the pranks they'd performed together. Her favorites were the jokes they played on Professor Snape, like slicking his floor before class and watching him slide around everywhere, or the time they went so far as to intentionally mess up a potion, so that when he came around to check it exploded in purple dust all over his face. Detention had been so worth it.

Ave missed all of the cute little habits that George had, like tweaking her nose, or loping his arm around her, or scaring her into accidentally changing hair colors. A part of her wished that someone would act that way towards her again, but deep down she knew that it wouldn't be the same if it wasn't George. No one else was like George. No one was as sweet, as funny, or as clever. Not like her George.

~

The atmosphere was light and joyful, and the crowd was ridiculously large. It was hard to even get up close to the shelves- that's how popular the shop was. Ave smiled proudly at all that the twins had accomplished.

Straining her neck to look for those two familiar faces, Ave finally spotted a head of bright orange hair. Unsure which of them it was, Ave rushed forward, knowing she'd be delighted to see either one.

As it turned out, it was Fred.

"Ave!" he exclaimed, picking her up in a hug as she laughed jovially.

"Fred m'boy, I've missed you!" she replied. "I haven't gotten the chance to come to The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes until now and you two buffoons never visit."

"Ah, please pardon me darling," he pouted teasingly. "You know I would fly to your side every day if but I could! Truthfully Ave, things have been crazy 'round this joint. In a good way though, you know? The business is doing really well and it's just amazing. It's everything we ever wanted."

"I'm glad you got what you wanted Fred," she said sincerely. "I can see how well you're doing. And really, it's just incredible! Listen though, is George around?"

"Actually Ave, really bad luck but he's not here today," said Fred. "Visiting Bill and Fleur. We always need someone to watch the shop so we try to take turns with that sort of thing."

"Even so..." he added, "it might not be such a good idea for you to try to see him."

"Why not?" she asked with a pain in her chest as she recalled the man that even now held her heart.

"He's bein' a bit odd," admitted Fred, "about you at least. He's convinced that just moving on is the right path. I've tried to talk to him about it but he won't listen. Well... I suppose you can't really blame him. After all, I did get the more attractive and more intelligent genes." Ave gently shoved her friend, a reluctant smile coming to her face.

"That's fine then," she forced herself to say. "I understand how he feels. I'll just... keep browsing the merchandise. Good luck Fred. Love ya!"

"Love you too Ave."

~

For only her second time ever, Ave Cade walked into The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. This time was different however. There was no one in the shop, not surprisingly. Most people were still caring for the deceased or wounded in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Tears trickled softly down Ave's cheeks as the shop reminded her of the amazing man that had been taken from them in the fight. The decorations and merchandise alone screamed of Fred. Who else but Fred and his brother could have come up with some fun and fantastical creations?

His brother... that's who I'm here to see, Ave reminded herself. It was only three days after the final battle had ended, but Ave had heard that after being his family the entire first day afterwards, George had returned to their flat above the shop and had not come out since.

Ave's heart was thumping a mile a minute. After all, she hadn't actually seen George for over two years. A few times during the battle she had spotted him from afar, but she hadn't truly gotten the chance to talk to him or be with him.

Would he even want to see her? What if he wanted nothing to do with her? Especially after he had lost the most important person in his life.

I have to try to help, thought Ave stubbornly.

Knocking loudly on George's door, Ave heard no response. Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door authoritatively.

George was sleeping. Ave smiled gently. What a goofball. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, and there he was, sprawled out on his bed, bedsheets falling onto the floor.

There was a hole where his left ear should have been. Ave had heard that it had happened, but she wasn't prepared to see it so close. Ave bit her lip to keep from crying as she seated herself next to George and softly began to stroke his soft, orange hair.

Soon, George began to stir and his eyes blinked open.

"Ave?" was his strangled whisper.

"Hey Georgey," she whispered back.

"Your hair is blue," he commented. Surprised, Ave grabbed a lock of her hair and looked at it. Chuckling slightly, she nodded.

"Yes indeed it is."

"If I were a Metamorphmagi," said George, beginning to sit up, "I think my hair would be blue too."

Ave attempted a soft smile and she stroked his cheek softly, wishing she could vanish his sad expression. Now awake, George lightly grabbed her hand and held it there against his cheek.

"I've missed you," he said, his eyes locked on hers.

"You left me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered painfully. "I just... I'm sorry. I didn't want to watch you get hurt."

"I can't forgive you for it," Ave told him. "You shouldn't have run away from it."

"I know."

Leaning forward, George rested his forehead against her own.

"Ave... he's gone. My other half, he's gone. How can I... what should I..." Though her eyes, like his, were closed, Ave could hear the tears in his voice.

"Day by day," she said strongly, pulling away from him and forcing his watering eyes to stare into hers. "Let me get through it with you. No matter what, you know that Fred wouldn't want you to stay depressed forever. A waste of talent, he'd say."

"If Fred could talk to me right now, he'd say what a shame it was that the more attractive one was the one that died," said George with a chuckle. "Jokingly, of course. Fred would have died for me, just like I wish I could have died for him."

"Please don't say that," commanded Ave. "I can barely deal with Fred's death. If it had happened to you... I don't know if I could handle myself."

Gently George reached out and wrapped his arms around Ave's waist, scooting her closer.

"Do you really still love me, after all this time?"

"Well... once you go ginger, you never really go back," she said with a teasing smile. George smiled back at her and pulled her in for a kiss.

~

Ave shrieked as a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind and hoisted her from the ground. As she was placed back on the ground, she smacked the smirking George with her spatula, despite the incontrollable grin on her face. George gave her a mockingly shocked expression.

"What was that for my love?"

"Can't you ever be serious?" she asked. "I have to finish the breakfast for the kids you know." George clicked his tongue in distaste and took a seat next to his son at the table.

"Well now, if I'd known that having kids meant I had to be serious I never woulda done it!" he exclaimed brightly. Ave's mouth dropped and she reached over to smack her husband with the spatula once more.

"Don't say that around your kids!" she scolded.

"Aw now," said George, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "Freddo knows I don't mean it, don't cha?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed little Fred gleefully as he high-fived his dad. Ave rolled her eyes but George gave her a wink. Rising from his seat, George once more wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, but more tenderly, and without lifting her from the ground.

"Mmm I think it's sexy when you spank me with the spatula," he murmured tauntingly in her ear. Drawing back he gave her another wink as she just smirked at him.

"Is that so Mr. Weasley?" she asked, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him closer.

"Not in front of the children Mrs. Weasley," he scolded teasingly. Ave reached up and kissed her husband passionately.

"If they can handle your abuse, they can handle my love for you," she murmured in return. George gave her another quick peck before whirling around to face his oldest son.

"So Fred, since you'll be heading off to Hogwarts soon, how would you like to hear some tricks your dad picked up along the way?"

"You mean like, dirt on the teachers and all those secret passages you found?" asked Fred in awed excitement.

"All that and more," replied George just as enthusiastically.

"Cool!" shouted Fred, jumping up from his chair. Both Fred and George turned to Ave, gauging her reaction to what George was offering his son. Ave looked at them with a dead serious expression, and watched in amusement as George's excited face turned to a pleading puppy-dog look. Sometimes Ave felt that George was still a boy himself. At other times... he was the most mature man she knew. Now was one of the former times.

Unable to contain her true feelings, Ave grinned brightly.

"Have fun you two," she wished them. Fred and George both grinned happily. With a roar, George picked up his son, playing with him a bit before tossing him over his shoulder. Being used to his dad's behavior, Fred merely beamed and waved at his mother as George walked out of the room with him.

Ave smiled softly. So much time had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts, and it never stopped amazing Ave how much George had improved. Though Fred was still a present memory, together Ave and George had healed from the pain that the terrible battle had inflicted. And now they had a family of their own. Life wasn't perfect, but it was all that Ave had ever hoped and prayed for. Ave and George were happy. Most importantly, they were still as in love as they ever had been.

[kissingdempsey]

Pancakes and Protection // Zach Dempsey

Hey loves. This is imagine is requested by @fuckkoffcourtney I hope you all like it! 💖 Happy reading.

Request: Boyfriend zach comes over to readers house because her parents were gone celebrating their anniversary and her brother clay is still home obvs and he goes downstairs in the morning to see his sister and zach bein all cute and super domestic and making breakfast together and he wants to be an overprotective brother but he can’t because they’re too cute so he just sits down at the table and smiles because his sister is happy and that makes him happy

Warnings: Fluff and curse words

————

Readers POV•

My eyes fluttered open as I heard the sound of light snores in my ear. I looked at my surroundings and realized that Zach and I fell asleep on the couch watching movies last night. His arms were tight around my small body as the sun beamed in from the half opened blinds.

I tried to get up but he wouldn’t let me. His grip got tighter as he whined.

“Noooooo stay here.” He pouted as he rubbed my shoulder.

“I’ll make pancakes for us if you let me get up.” I smirked. If I knew anything that would get Zach up it’s pancakes. That’s his weakness.

His eyebrow quirked up and he let go of me. I got up and stretched then walked to kitchen. I heard a low yawn and footsteps trailing after me.

———

“Get away from me with that!” I laughed while inching away from Zach, who was holding a spoon with pancake batter all over it. He quickly grabbed my wrist and twirled me into him, taking the spoon and smearing the batter all over my face.

“Zachary Dempsey i’m going to murder you!” I squealed, punching him in the shoulder lightly. He chuckled and then wiped my face off with a paper towel.

“Oh be quiet, you love me.” He remarked.

He was right about that. It was times like this where I felt the happiest. Thankfully enough my parents were on their annual anniversary trip, leaving the house to Clay and I for a whole week. Bless up. Instead of being that teenager who throws a party once their parents leave the driveway, I invited my goofball of a boyfriend Zach over. And that’s better than any party in town if you ask me.

I walked over to the stove and flipped the pancake on the skillet, revealing its burnt side.

“That one is for you Dempsey.” I laughed while sprinkling mini chocolate chips onto the pancake. His muscular arms wrapped around my waist as he rested his head on top of mine.

He chuckled and I continued to make the pancakes as he traced circles on my hips with his thumbs.

“How do you manage to ruin the first pancake you make?” He laughs. I slap his thigh and we both started laughing. It doesn’t take much for me to smile when i’m with Zach, just being around him can make my day.

Clays POV•

I woke up to the sound of a bunch of giggling and squealing…and the smell of chocolate chip pancakes that happen to be my favorite. There was a familiar deep voice echoing through out the house and I knew exactly who that voice belonged to. Zach Dempsey. Knowing that a guy like him is dating my sister just makes my stomach turn. I didn’t want to get up and see his face. But the smell of the pancakes tempted me. I needed to keep a close eye on them anyway.

I slid out of my bed and slipped a pair of sweats over my legs and crept outside my room.

The laughter gets louder and the aroma gets stronger as I get closer to the kitchen. I rested my body against the door frame of the kitchen as I watched Zach and Y/N cooking. His arms were wrapped around her like he was afraid to lose her. This was the first time i’ve ever seen them cuddled up and truly changes my perspective of their relationship.

Normally I would ruin their alone time or try to convince Y/N that he wasn’t right for her, but now I know why she blocks out everything I say. He cares for her almost as much as I do.

He showered her with small kisses and looked at her with a sparkle in his eye that was almost impossible to fake. Maybe Dempsey was good for my sister. I took a deep breath then walked to the table and sat down. “Morning guys!” I smiled.

Readers POV•

“Morning guys!” Clay smiled. I smiled back and so did Zach. “Morning Clay.” We both said in unison.

“Well the pancakes are almost done so Zach go sit at the table i’ll go put them on the table right now.” Zach went to the table and sat with Clay.

A short moment after I brought he pancakes to the table. I sat the plate of pancakes in front of the guys. "Pancakes for my two favorite guys in the world!" I said, seating myself at the table. The rest of the morning was filled with laughter from all of us, even Clay. I think Clay is finally accepting my relationship with Zach.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I know I say this at the end of every imagine I do but I really think that this one wasn't very good at all. I have complete writers block right now and nothing good is coming from that. I've been a bit stressed out lately and frustrated and I think I could've done way better on this but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting. On the bright side I have 3 more imagines coming up that will possibly all be posted before Monday! Hopefully my writing gets better by then. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this. My request box is STILL open so if you have anything you wanna know or any imagine ideas feel free to put them in there. Thanks for reading! 💖

(Gif isn't mine!)

[thelastspeecher]

Stan’s Wife

Once again, I suck at naming things.  I apologize for that.  But this is the sequel to the blurb I posted yesterday, for the AU where Ford finds out that Stan is a stay-at-home dad when he goes to get help in 1982.  In this little blurb, Ford meets Stan’s wife and finds out that she doesn’t take well to her newfound brother-in-law basically shitting on her idyllic home life.  Enjoy.

               Ford woke up to the smell of something cooking.  He made his way out of the guest bedroom and into the living room cautiously.  After he had explained his reasons for visiting, as well as why he didn’t want to talk to a McGucket, Stan had insisted he take a nap.

               “Ya look like shit, Ford.  Get some shuteye.  When my wife gets here, we can talk more.”

               “You got Daddy in trouble.”  Ford was startled from his recollection by an accusatory voice. He looked down.  Danny was standing in front of him, her diminutive arms crossed and brown eyes narrowed.  

               “Yer daddy got his own self in trouble,” a female voice said in a thick southern accent.  Ford looked over.  A short woman with caramel-colored hair and a very large nose was standing in the kitchen, wearing a clearly hand-embroidered apron.  “Let that be a lesson.  Ya don’t lie ‘bout yer fam’ly.”  

               She’s clearly passed on some of her traits to my nieces.  In fact, she was standing much in the same way that Danny was.  

               “You’re Stan’s wife?” he double-checked.  She nodded.  

               “Though I like to think of it as bein’ Stan’s my husband.  You must be Ford, the brother-in-law I didn’t know I had.”

               “You’d be Ms. McGucket, then,” Ford said.  She grinned crookedly, and it made Ford’s heart ache.

               That’s Fiddleford’s smile.

               “Actually, it’s Dr. McGucket,” she clarified.  “But ya can call me Angie.”  Angie wiped her hands on her apron.  “I was just ‘bout to send someone to fetch ya.  Dinner’s ready.  Spaghetti and meatballs.  It’s all homemade and all kosher.”

               Kosher?  Ford looked at Stan, who was setting bowls on the table.  

               “Stan, do you practice?” he asked.  Stan shrugged.

               “Not really.  But Angie and I agreed that the girls should grow up knowin’ some of the family culture. Which means they’re bein’ raised with a weird mixture of Catholicism and Judaism, but eh.  It works out pretty well.”  He glanced over at Angie.  “Like our wedding.”  Angie smiled.

               “Yeah, Stan, why wasn’t I invited to your wedding?” Ford asked. Stan raised an eyebrow.

               “Ya already know why.  I didn’t want ya to show up and start yellin’ ‘bout how I ruined your life in front of my fiancée’s entire family.”  He grimaced. “Her folks are still suspicious about how soon the girls were born after we got married.”  Stan placed the last bowl down.  “Hey, lil monsters, get yourselves in here.  It’s dinnertime!”  Danny abandoned her post in front of Ford to run to the kitchen, where she was summarily lifted into her chair.  There were quick footsteps behind Ford, and Daisy rushed past eagerly.

               “You gon’ eat, Uncle Ford?” Daisy asked.  “It’s friendly food.”  Ford walked to the table and reluctantly sat down.  

               “‘Friendly food’?” he asked.  Daisy nodded.

               “It’s how we described kosher,” Stan explained, putting Daisy in her chair. “Easier than the whole spiel.  At least, right now.”  He kissed Angie on the cheek and took a seat next to her. Ford was taken aback again by the domesticity of the entire situation.  

               My wild twin really did settle down. And it’s clearly a loving relationship. If Mom ever found out Pops lied to her like that…she wouldn’t even talk to him, let alone let him kiss her.  

               Dinner passed by quickly.  The food was excellent, not that Ford was surprised.  Fiddleford had always had a knack for making amazing meals, something he attributed to being taught how to cook by his mother.  Ford watched with interest as Stan and Angie playfully bantered with each other, wiped sauce off their daughters’ faces, and attempted to engage the girls in meaningful conversations.  Before he knew it, he had finished his meal.

               “It’s 7 o’clock, girls,” Stan said.  “Ya know what that means.”  Daisy leapt out of her chair.

               “You’ll never catch me alive!” she shouted gleefully before bolting. Danny followed suit.  Stan stood up with a chuckle.

               “I’m comin’ for ya,” he growled playfully, stalking after his daughters.  There were squeals of joy from somewhere else inside the house as he left Ford’s field of vision.  Angie began to clear the table, humming to herself.  

               “What, exactly, is going on?” Ford asked.  Angie smiled fondly.  

               “It’s a bathtime ritual thing.  Stan started it.  He’s a goofball, that husband of mine.”  

               “Gotcha!” Stan shouted.  There were more delighted squeals.  Angie chuckled.

               “Stan’s a heck of a father, by the way.  After my maternity leave ended, we couldn’t find anyone to watch the girls.  Well, not anyone that Stan thought was good enough for his babies.  Stan told me ‘Ya know what, I’ve always hated my job anyways’ and quit that day.”

               “So he’s a stay-at-home dad?”

               “Yessir.”  Angie deposited the dirty dishes in the sink and began to clean them.  “I appreciate how involved he is in raisin’ ‘em.  I’m pretty busy most days, so it eases my mind to know that they’ve got one of their parents watchin’ ‘em.”

               “Wow.”

               “What are ya impressed by?”

               “Honestly?  All of it,” Ford said.  Angie looked at him, bemused.  “I never thought Stan would settle down, or have a kid, or, if I’m being completely truthful, if he did have a kid, I didn’t suspect he would make an excellent father.” Angie pursed her lips.  “I mean, I thought he’d be a serviceable one.  But not the one I saw today.  It’s not like we got any ideas from how to be a good father from our own.”  Angie nodded silently.

               “That’s understandable.  But it’s fer the best if ya don’t say that ya weren’t expectin’ Stan to be a good dad. It means a lot to him that his kids adore him so much.  He’s put a lot of stake in his abilities as a father.  He don’t need to hear that negativity from his twin.”

               “…Of course.”  A few minutes passed while Angie continued to wash the dishes.  “So, you’re a doctor?”

               “I have a doctorate, yes.  In herpetology.  I’m head of amphibian and reptile care at the San Diego Zoo.”

               “That’s incredibly impressive.  Not that I’m surprised.  Your older brother was a revolutionary engineer.  His designs…I’d never seen anything like them.”  Angie paused.  

               “How do you know Fiddleford?”  

               Shit!

               “All right, kids are in bed,” Stan said, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat.  “Now, we can talk.”  Angie abandoned the dishes to join her husband at the table.

               “Ford, how do ya know my older brother?” Angie repeated firmly.  Ford swallowed.

               “He, uh, he was my research assistant.”

               “Fiddleford was hired by a man named Stanford Pines, though.”

               “That’s my name.  Ford is short for Stanford,” Ford said, slightly perplexed.  Angie leaned back in her chair.

               “All right, which one of ya changed yer last name?”  

               “What?” Ford asked.  Angie turned to Stan.

               “Stanley!”

               “Hey, you knew I was a grifter.  I went through a lot of different names.  And I ended up takin’ yours anyways so-”

               “Ya didn’t tell me yer real name!  Ya didn’t tell me that, and neither did ya tell me ya had a twin brother!”

               “Angie-”

               “We’re married.  We have two beautiful children.  We need to be able to trust each other with our secrets.”  Stan looked down, abashed.  “I hope ya know where yer sleepin’ tonight.”  Angie leaned in.  “An’ it ain’t our bed.”

               “Yeah, figured,” Stan mumbled.  He glowered at Ford.  “Way to go, Sixer, Tuesdays are the nights we get it on.”

               “I wasn’t the one who lied to your wife.”

               “Stanford,” Angie interrupted, “do ya know where Fiddleford is?  My fam’ly hasn’t heard from him in so long.  We’re awful worried ‘bout him.”  A deep discomfort knotted in Ford’s stomach.

               “He’s in Gravity Falls.  But…he’s not himself.”

               “What do ya mean?”

               “He’s lost his sanity.”  Angie’s eyes filled with tears.  “I’m so sorry, Angie.  I- it’s my fault.”  

               “Wh- how?”

               “It was through the course of our research that he- shit!”  Ford scrabbled backward, falling out of his chair in the process.  Angie had launched herself at him.  Stan grabbed her torso, preventing her from actually harming him.

               “Angie, what the hell are ya doin’?” Stan asked her.  

               “He has a son!” Angie yelled at Ford.  “A fam’ly.  An’ it’s yer fault that he’s gone?  Worse than gone, he’s there in body but he ain’t there in mind!”

               “Angie, chill!” Stan hissed.  “He explained it to me earlier.  It’s not completely his fault.”  He nodded at Ford.  “Tell her.”

               “Well-” Ford started.

               “Ma?”  Ford turned around.  Danny and Daisy were standing in the living room nervously.  “What’s going on?” Danny asked.

               “Nothin’, sweetie,” Angie said.  “Yer ma just got a bit overexcited is all.  Go back to bed.”  Danny and Daisy shook their heads in unison.  

               “There’s monsters in the room,” Daisy said quietly.  Angie sighed.  

               “This again?”

               “Ma, they’re there!  But not when you’re around,” Danny insisted.  Stan let go of Angie.  She walked over to her children.

               “All right, all right.  I’ll come sleep with ya tonight.  That make ya feel better?”  Danny nodded and grabbed Angie’s shirt.  Angie looked over at Stan and Ford.  “Stan, sleep on the couch.  Ford, help yourself to the guest bedroom.  This conversation ain’t over.”  After Angie and the girls had left, Ford turned to Stan.

               “You’re not going to tell her you agreed to help me?”

               “I’ll tell her,” Stan said.  “Tomorrow. When she’s a bit less…murder-y.”

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Love Like Lava, 5

Notes: As always, big thanks to my fantastic editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!

Five chapters in and our love interests FINALLY meet! I used a lot of an old storybit for it, I admit. And yes, more Beagles! I'll always have plenty of those it pick from!

Summary: The goddess of love meets the unloved god. There is definitely a spark between them, but who would have expected the spark of life?

Gods and goddesses were capable of speaking any language they desired, and being all-powerful magical beings, they could understand any word that came from any creature's mouth. But no one on Mount Olympus could understand what “AuuuuuuuUUUughhhhhhahahaaaaaa” meant. Had it come from anyone else but Minnie, they would have found it incredibly disturbing and tried to shut down the noise. But because it was Minnie, they found the sound adorable and even charming.

She laid on her throne, leaning on the armrests with her face to the sky, continuing to warble in odd moaning and sobbing noises. She ignored the men cooing and fawning over her, dropping presents all around. Even when Pete tried to gain her favor by plopping a pearl necklace into her lap, it merely turned into a macabre version of “he loves me, he loves me not”. As usual, Mortimer, Gladstone, and Pete babbled on about how great they were, how great she was, and how great they'd be together until it turned into a not so great fistfight. Minnie was far too lost in her own agony to even notice.

Mickey, the god of mystery, who was so sweet and so nice and so handsome, hated Minnie. The two conflicting images she had of him swirled around in her head – the Mickey that treated his sea family with affection and sincerity, and the Mickey that wanted to spit in her eye. She wanted to be near him, to touch those strong muscles on his arm, to hear his voice say her name with kindness, to learn every single detail about him...and he called her rotten! After hearing that, Daisy had to literally drag Minnie away from the beach, as the demigoddess was fairly sure Minnie was no longer able to move on her own. Daisy kept saying Mickey wasn't worth the trouble, but all her attempts to cheer Minnie up went nowhere.

“At least I've got real problems!” Pete was snarling, banging his dirty fists against the armor on his gut. “What's the use of bein' the god of war when no one feels like havin' a war? The most I can get out of anyone these days is guys pickin' on some goofball because he's clumsy. It's like wantin' a banquet and just gettin' a measly apple! I'm starvin'!”

“You, of all people, are hardly starving,” Mortimer laughed while poking Pete in the belly. “Look, we can influence mortals, but we can't make them do exactly what we want. That's the way the wine flows.” He yanked his hand back before Pete could break his wrist. “I mean, except for Aphrodite. A girl that beautiful, I bet she could make the ocean turn back the tide with just one wink!”

Not one to be outdone, Gladstone offered his own ridiculous flattery. “I bet she could turn all the dead in the Underworld back to life with just a flick of her tail!”

Pete was always eager to win contests. “I bet she could get all of Troy to go to war over just one look!”

As deep in mourning as Minnie was, it was getting harder to concentrate on her suffering with all this noise. She had come to the last pearl – he loves me not – when she suddenly snapped, “Name my favorite color.”

All three men abruptly turned their heads, surprised that the object of their affection had actually come into the conversation. Having genuinely no idea what the real answer was, they gave their best shot.

“Lucky green!” was Gladstone's, “Wine white!” was Mortimer's, and “Blood red!” was Pete's.

“Those are your favorite colors,” Minnie grumbled, pushing herself into a sitting position. She didn't know why she was bothering with the men who never listened to her before, but they'd caught her in a bad mood. “None of you know anything about me, not even my favorite color! I don't even know what my favorite color is, because you people don't tell me anything. You all claim to love me, but you don't know anything about me.”

“I know all about you!” Pete declared far too loudly, straightening his back and jutting out his chin. “I know that you're prettier than posies, way lovelier than any other lady, and-”

“Is there anything you know about me that's not about my looks?” Minnie interrupted,  knowing that even as she scowled and gritted her teeth and glared as hard as she could, these egomaniacs would still only see her as gorgeous. Within seconds her point was proven as Pete was counting on his fingers, trying to find something he knew about her, anything, that didn't pertain to her appearance. Gladstone and Mortimer were more than happy to one-up him, but to their disappointment they also came up short.

Pete soon gave up, throwing his hands up in the air. “Aw, what does it matter? Everyone on Mount Olympus loves you, but I love you most of all! You're the best thing that's happened to this place since myself!”

“That's not love!” Minnie was now on her feet, wagging a finger at all three of them, stepping over all the luxurious gifts she had no use for. “You might as well put a statue of me here, there'd be no difference! Love is not just looks! That's shallow, and silly, and – and – and you can't claim to love someone when you don't even know what their favorite color is!”

And in that exact second Minnie suddenly realized she had no idea what Mickey's favorite color was. Her eyes widened and her finger began to fall – come to think of it, she didn't know his favorite food either, or if Mickey was his first name or chosen name, or why he had muscles, or where he came from, or  - and this hit Minnie the hardest – anything about him besides his looks. Self-loathing welled up in her throat like an urge to heave. She'd been crying and wailing over a man she hadn't spoken two words to. How was she any better than these three, who even now were once again trying to guess her favorite color despite her answer a minute earlier?

“Oh, no,” Minnie covered her face with her hands, horribly embarrassed. Hadn't she tried to find Mickey in the first place because no one knew anything about him? She could hardly call this mission accomplished. She wanted to have information no one else had, so she could stop feeling so stupid compared to everyone else. But now she needed advice on where to go from here, and she wasn't going to get it from the all-mighty peanut gallery. She lifted her head, and with a hard gulp, reluctantly said, “Thank you. All of you.” She jumped down to the mortal plane before giving them a proper explanation – she doubted they would understand it anyway.

Again she was proven right, and the moment she was gone they began fighting over who she was thanking the most. But something Minnie had failed to notice was that with each fight about her, it was getting longer, more violent, and far more destructive. Shouting matches would soon involve the other residential gods, and thrones would be destroyed after being used as weapons. Things were escalating day by day.

Today wasn't the breaking point, but it was on the horizon.

~*~

Goofy's morning routine was mostly the same every day. He would tumble out of his makeshift bed, say good morning to his statue of Millie, find a way to the kitchen, eat a modest meal, and then go into town to either make money or find inspiration. Yesterday had been a make money day – it was particularly successful, as he helped a small crew put together a rooftop and he'd only fallen in twice. That meant today was an inspiration day, which meant he could travel all over town to find anything to stir his muse. He made sure to wave hello to all he saw, despite knowing many would merely roll their eyes and quickly wave back before trying to get out of his line of sight. Only the children would chime back “Good morning!”, since they were too young to share their parents' prejudice. He didn't mind - so he told himself.

Something he did mind was that he hadn't seen Daisy or Minnie ever since that one day. Had they been travelers that were merely passing by? This was disappointing to think of, since they'd been awfully nice, and he was just about done with Minnie's peach. As much as he could tell himself over and over, day by day, that he didn't mind the village's treatment of him, it still hurt in a place he tried to ignore. He was lonely, but there was nothing he could do to change it if the villagers themselves didn't want to change their attitude.

During his walk he could spot the temple of Aphrodite, and more importantly saw some familiar figures sneaking into it. His long face frowned – as much as he cared about the village, it did hold some seedy characters. Whereas Goofy's trouble was the result of mistakes, clumsiness, and not thinking things out 100%, these particular men and one woman committed trouble on purpose. They were thieves, and not even good ones.

Goofy marched straight toward the temple, and as he took one step inside, he shouted, “You Beagles better be on your best behavior!”

The Beagle family was rumored to have a branch in every village in Greece, and the less Beagles one had, the better off the village was. This village had three, making the village unlucky but not terribly poor. There was Burger Beagle, the youngest and the heaviest who was often stuffing his mouth with whatever his fingers could grab – he'd tried to eat one of Goofy's well beyond ripe peaches and was turning green for the effort. Bouncer Beagle was the big brother, who was taller than everyone in the village and had more muscles than most of them, too. There was an ongoing rumor that he had a gold tooth but some people argued that it was just an extremely dirty yellow. Lastly there was Ma Beagle, the matriarch, a heavyset woman with gray hair and a gray disposition. No one was sure if she was the mother of all the Beagles or simply one of many, and any who dared ask tended to find themselves sporting a black eye afterwards.

Ma Beagle placed her hands on her hips – no, now that Goofy looked closely, one hand on was on her hip and the other was behind her back – and pointed her nose upward. “I don't know what you're implying! My babies are always on their best behavior.”

Bouncer, not the fastest horse in the stable, scratched his head. “We are?”

Goofy crossed his arms and tapped his foot, looking from one member of the family to the next. “Then you weren't here to rob the temple, were ya?”

“Robbing a goddess's temple!” Ma placed her hand on her head – the other still behind her – and leaned back as if she could faint at the very notion. Despite the poor act, Bouncer held out his arms to catch her. “Who would ever do such a thing? They would have to be the lowest of the low!”

“Besides,” Burger added after a sick belch, “there wasn't anything here but old peaches and a few coins.” Ma swiftly kicked her son in the leg, causing him to fall over with a cry.

“I knew it!” Goofy stomped up to the aging mother, holding out a flat palm. “You give back that money, it ain't yours! It was an offerin' to the goddess, and it meant a whole lot to someone to give that up!”

Ma dropped the frail old lady act as she stood back up, sneering as she held up the stolen satchel that clinked as it swung from her fingers. “Finders keepers, goof! If it's between someone with rocks in his head and me and my boys, they'll believe me first! Why don't you take that big ugly snout of yours and keep it out of my business!”

“You tell 'im, Ma!” Bouncer cheered after he helped his little brother stand up, and made sure to smack Burger's hands before he could try eating another peach.

Goofy tried to take the satchel back, but Ma swung it away, taking several steps back for every single step he took forward. “You can't take what don't belong to you! It ain't right! You should make a decent livin' for yerself!”

Ma laughed, easily dodging each of Goofy's attempts to grab her. “And you call your life decent? You're the village idiot! Maybe me and my boys aren't going to win any popularity contests anytime soon, but at least we like each other!”

“Mostly!” Burger and Bouncer said together.

“But nobody wants you around!” Ma made a swift turn around the single pedestal, but when Goofy tried the same tactic, his untied sandal caused him to trip. He cried out as he fell over the pedestal, causing it to fall with him and splattering the remains of the peaches on his back. The Beagles laughed harshly, Bouncer even doubling over while Burger held his aching stomach. Ma tossed the satchel up and down in her hands, looking down at Goofy in more ways than one. “See? At least when we're bad, we do it right! You try to be right, and you're bad at it! I bet the entire village would be better off if you weren't around!” Satisfied at the sting in the sculptor's eyes, she headed out of the temple. “Come on, boys, Mama's gunna buy us some nice new clothes!”

“How about an early lunch, Ma? I'm starving!”

Goofy laid there until their mocking voices could no longer be heard, as he was afraid if they saw him making an effort they'd fire off more insults. With a resigned sigh, he sat on his knees and pushed the pedestal back into its original position. This wasn't an unusual day for him – which made it all the worse. “I sure hope Aphrodite ain't mad at me for messin' up her temple,” he mumbled to himself as he picked smelly peach jam off of his fur.

“Oh, I'm sure she's not mad at all!”

Goofy was so taken aback by the sudden voice that his body jerked and he knocked over the pedestal again. Once he set it upright, he looked at the corner of the temple where the voice came from – out of literally nowhere stood Minnie, in the same mortal disguise she had used before. Goofy had no idea how she could have gotten in without seeing her, but he put it out of his mind. “Minnie! Aw, I was just thinkin' about you!”

Minnie smiled – if she couldn't expect any help from Olympus and Daisy had told her to give up, she really only had one other person she could go to for help. “It's good to see you again, Goofy.” She then darted forward for one of her traditional hugs – stopped when the stench hit her nose – then decided it was something she could live with and wound up in his arms anyway.

Goofy chuckled quietly, picking Minnie up into his arms, since she was very light to begin with. “Always an affectionate one, ain'tcha?” He easily stood up, carrying Minnie around in one arm as he walked outside of the temple. They'd both need some cleaning up now, and the local well wasn't too far off. “But yer peach ain't ready yet, I'm afraid. Still gunna need a few more days on that one.”

“Oh, no, I didn't come for that.” Minnie continued to hang onto him, ignoring the townsfolk's stares – Goofy covered in foodstuffs was normal, but him carrying around a pretty young girl was not. Some craned their necks to follow them, while others blinked so much their eyes stung. “I actually was hoping you could give me some advice.”

The tall dog came to an abrupt stop, staring at Minnie as if she'd suddenly gained two extra ears. Did he hear right? “Well! I, uh...Gwarsh! Nobody's ever asked me for advice before.” He couldn't believe he had to say it out loud. He'd been so used to everyone calling him a moron that he believed it himself, so this was throwing him for all kinds of loops. “Are you sure there ain't anyone else you can ask?”

“Not really,” Minnie admitted with a small shrug. “But I trust you! I know you'll be honest with me!”

She had him there. He scratched his head idly, and then resumed walking. “I suppose that's true enough. Never did like liars. One lie always leads to another, and then you got yourself nothin' but trouble.” At the brick and mortar well, he sat Minnie down at the well's edge and grabbed a wooden bucket. “I guess anythin's worth tryin' once. What did you wanna ask me?”

Minnie kicked her tiny legs about, unsure of how to word this the way it needed to be said. While later in life Aphrodite would be known for many accomplishments and stories, one of the few things people would remember is that she first coined the phrase, “I have this friend.” Once Goofy nodded, she continued. “She...she wants to be close to a certain someone, but she doesn't know how to do it. She doesn't have a lot of friends. The first friend she made was kind of by accident. But this someone already doesn't like her. He doesn't even know her, and he wants nothing to do with her.”

Goofy “hmmm”ed the matter over as he tied the well's rope to the bucket and then tossed the bucket into the well. He continued to “hmm” as the bucket sunk into the water, and “hmm”ed once more as he pulled the bucket back up. “Not an easy one, that's for sure.” When the bucket was in his hands, he dumped the entire contents on himself, and then resumed the process all over again. “Y'know, I kinda have the same problem here. Most folks don't wanna get to know me. They hear the name 'Goofy', and turn the other way. They don't even wanna try to learn who I am. You know why that is?”

Minnie glanced up, waving her hand in front of her nose as the smell was still there. “Because people fear change?”

“Nope.” Goofy dropped the bucket with a thud into the well. “Cause people don't like feelin' dumb. They'd rather stick with the wrong facts than think of themselves as bein' dumb. Feelin' like that, it's the worst, cause you hear all the time how other people talk about dummies. You don't wanna be seen as one of them, don't wanna be a target. People'd rather be mean and ornery than admit they were wrong. Might be the case with your fella.” After dumping the water on his back for a second time, he wrung out the water from his long floppy ears. “Does he know anythin' about her at all?”

Minnie leaned back as she recalled that moment, tapping her fingers on the stones of the well. “I think the only thing he got right was her name.”

“He doesn't even know what she looks like?”

“I don't think so, no.”

“Well then, I'd say it's pretty darn easy!” Goofy grinned, his teeth sticking out in a bit of pride and glee. “Why doesn't she go up to him and not tell him her name?”

Perhaps to a more seasoned goddess, one who had been taught more about mortality and the ways of the world, this idea wouldn't have sounded like a good one. But to Minnie, young and fresh and desperate, this was perhaps the most brilliant plan she'd ever heard of. “That's – that's it! He doesn't know my chosen – I mean, her nickname!” She'd only given it out to Daisy and Goofy – Daisy would only tell her husband, and Goofy didn't even know he had befriended a goddess. Many had assumed she was Aphrodite just by looking at her, but that didn't mean she had to confirm it! “Goofy, you're a genius!” She jumped into his arms, and laid a big fat kiss on his cheek.

Goofy's cheeks reddened, and he pat Minnie on the head, humbled by such rare praise. “Aw, it ain't nothin'! I bet once that guy gets to know your friend, he'll like her a whole lot.”

Giggling in ecstasy, Minnie squeezed Goofy even tighter, almost delirious in joy. “Oooh, you're the best, Goofy! I bet Aphrodite is going to double your reward! Triple it! She's going to make you the happiest mortal in the whole wide world, just you wait!” She kicked her feet about, and Goofy found himself caught up in her euphoria even if he didn't entirely understand it. They laughed merrily together as he carried her around the well in their own sort of miniature parade. Those that stopped to stare before now found themselves feeling warm in the chest, kind of wishing they could join in.

But when Goofy finally finished cleaning himself, Minnie had vanished, and he couldn't recall seeing her go off in any particular direction. He figured he'd see her again, and he could only hope her friend would have good luck with her odd problem. Maybe if he left another offering to Aphrodite, things would work out. Having long since grown sick of the smell and sight of peaches, his next offering would be a crate of oranges – which he still didn't realize he was supposed to burn.

A quiet rumor grew the following day that he was doing it on purpose so the awful smell would keep thieves like the Beagles out. It was the first day of changes for Goofy, though not the biggest. That would come in its own time, for which he would receive both the greatest blessing and the most tragic curse.

~*~

Minnie didn't flounce off to Mickey's island right away, as tempting as the urge was. Before she willed herself back to the shore with sharp rocks, she spent many hours trying to make herself look less pretty.  The idea was that if she didn't look like an all-perfect goddess, maybe Mickey wouldn't assume she was the one he loathed. But much like Donald had trouble controlling his appearance when he was enraged, Minnie's beauty was its own battle. When she tried to muss up her spitcurls of black fur around her ears, they bounced back into shape even curlier than before. When she washed off the make-up that appeared on her face, she found herself gorgeous with natural blush and full colored lips. She ripped her dress in her hands, but instead of looking like a poor degenerate, now she resembled an Amazon princess who had escaped war without a scratch.

It was when she was almost inclined to give herself a black eye that she realized perhaps she was going too far. If Mickey liked her or not, he'd ultimately decide that on his own when he met her. So Minnie, biting the bullet before it was invented, willed herself to the island with only hope on her side. On this downcast day full of dark clouds, there was no sign of the unknown god, nor any splashes from his nautical friends. Minnie bit on her lower lip and wandered around for any sign of her target and only stopped when she came across a single cave in the rocky mountainside.

The cave was nothing special, and so Minnie was puzzled. Surely a god – even a minor one – would adorn his home with some sort of decoration, or an announcement of his greatness. That's what she'd seen of the major ones on Mount Olympus. But there was nothing spectacular or even unusual about this dark cave that stood over the ocean. It looked like the same you’d find anywhere else on earth. She stood in the entrance of the cave, peering into the blackness –

And then something peered back at her.

Minnie held a staring contest with the thing with yellow eyes. A grinding sound echoed in the cave, followed by clicking and whirring. Minnie stepped back, but as the cave's torches illuminated the figure, she felt less fear and more confusion. She remembered seeing this unusual creature back with Mickey the first time, the thing that didn't blink or move or do much of anything unless so ordered. It was human in design, but it was gold from head to toe. Gold skin, gold eyes, and as Minnie stared at this creature, she could see screws in her – this thing was female, no doubt – elbows and neck. It took on the design of a human female wearing a civilian’s robe, but it could never have actually passed for it. It was just too strange.

She knew she'd seen that face somewhere – and not simply from that one day – but she just couldn't place it. The being stared at her, and Minnie stared back. The woman carried no emotion, Minnie couldn't even guess what it was thinking – if she could think. The love goddess took a deep breath, arched her back, and put bravery into her voice. “I would like to see Mickey, if that's all right with you!”

Axelia hadn't been designed to shoo away visitors because Mickey never thought he'd have any. The mermaids and nereids would never make the effort to crawl all the way up to the cave, and no one else knew he existed or just didn't care. Thus Axelia saw no reason to deny Minnie her wish, turning around and heading back inside. “Follow-Follow-Follow-me. Master-Mickey-Is-Deep-Inside-And-Working-Working-Working.”

Hadn't that been easy! Minnie's muscles relaxed, and she couldn’t help herself – she started giggling. It was all just so absurd, like a dream. “You call him Master?” she asked as she walking alongside Axelia. “Is he that powerful a god?”

“Master-Mickey-Created-Created-Created-Me.”

Minnie fumbled in her footing, utterly thrown off by that repetitive fact. “Created!” she exclaimed, now moving around to get a look at anything she might have missed about Axelia. “My goodness! That's amazing!” Gods and goddesses could summon anything with a snap of their finger, but Mickey made a moving, talking, fully sized person all on his own? Her astonishment only grew as they passed by more caves where other Axelias were hard at work carving minerals and ore from the rocks. “Then does that mean he made all of them, too?”

“Yes-Yes-Yes. There-Are-Are-Are-Twelve-Of-Us.” No pride, no boredom, facts and only facts.

“That must make them your sisters!” Minnie replied as she tried to catch up to her guide who hadn't stopped walking. “What are their names?”

“We-Are-All-All-All-named-Axelia.”

“...Really?” Her enthusiasm slowed down a smidgen. “Doesn't that get confusing?”

“No-No-No.” Maybe Mickey wasn't so good at coming up with names, but his craftsmanship wasn't lazy. Minnie could tell the metal maiden was made with careful dedication and love. She wasn’t just functional, she was beautiful. Each and every single Axelia was clearly made with precise deliberation and gentle hands. “The-Master-Made-Me-Me-Me-Third.” Axelia answered, eyes ahead, perhaps unable to go in any other direction. “He-Created-Us-Us-Us-To-Assist-Him.”

Minnie had many more questions, but then the ground underneath her stopped being dusty and hard, and now was soft and smooth. She was no longer walking on a cave floor, but the floor of a home, and she looked up to see the elaborate workshop of the blacksmith god. On the walls were scrolls of maps and blueprints drawn by hand, and six other Axelias were involved in their own tasks – cooking, cleaning, constructing and bending tiaras and sharpening spears. Shelves of finished weapons and ornaments lined the walls, showing off Mickey's latest accomplishments. Colors smiled at her from these lovely trinkets, and Minnie longed to wear them.

Heat billowed across the room, coming from the ceiling, where lava from the volcano lazily flowed into a large black forge. Sitting before the forge on a gray stone work bench was the very man she'd come to see. Up close, it was clear how dirty Mickey was, how long it'd been since he last bathed, the faded colors of his torn robe, and the sweat rolling down his greasy fur. He hadn't noticed the company, as he was hammering a long, zig-zagged object that glowed intensely. Minnie had never seen anything like it, and it crackled with electricity every time he struck it. With each blow, the shape became more defined, tighter, and he welcomed every spark that trailed up his arm.

Axelia spoke. “Master-Mickey-You-Have-Have-Have-A-Visitor.”

Mickey's arm stopped in the air. He slowly lowered the tool to his side – and began roaring in laughter. The sheer idea of anyone coming to see him, of making that effort, was so impossible that it bordered on ridiculous, especially coming from his stoic servant. “A visitor! Th-that's rich! I bet there's one, why not a thousand of 'em!” He slapped his knee, and then bent over, holding himself due to laughing so much. Perhaps it'd been because he hadn't laughed in so long that this simple misunderstanding was causing him to react so wildly. He then began to turn around and Minnie saw one of his legs – his left- drag. “Didn’t know you girls could have a sense of humor-”

He promptly shut up the moment he saw Minnie, as most all living things did when they first saw her. She was used to it, ever since she first woke up on the bubbly shell, but for the first time she was actually grateful for it. Now it gave her a few extra seconds to think of what to say on her end, though she didn't think it'd last this long. She nervously played with her dress, waiting for him to get over the initial shock, but he didn't. Instead of giving her time to think about what she should say, she instead found herself memorizing more of him.

Mickey was small, his fingers tinted with smudges of dirt and oil. He wore a small brown robe around his waist, and that was it, modesty long since forgotten. He was covered in grime and sweat, and Minnie found to her own surprise that such filth rather excited her. It was proof of his exhaustion, proof of his dedication, and she even found herself enjoying the smell that came off him – the smell of work. She smiled at him, and he looked ready to swallow his own heart, eyes bulging out and mouth hung open. He hadn't even realized he was making a long “UHHH” noise until Axelia calmly walked over and pushed his jaw closed.

The touch affirmed Mickey that he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, which was well enough since he knew his imagination would never have come up with someone this breathtaking. But even if she'd been as ugly as sin, he would have been shocked for ages – who would come visit him and why? But she wasn't ugly as sin, she was a perfect virtue of loveliness, and he became suddenly very aware that he wasn't. He remembered his leg, his clothes, his dirt, and mortification overcame him so greatly that he wished for death.  When he spoke, it was barely above a horrified whisper. “Wh...who are you?”

This, at least, Minnie was prepared for. She curtsied, taking her time to make it long and respectful. “My name is Minnie. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mickey.”

Mickey gaped for words, and then he flailed his limbs at emotionless Axelia. “W-Why didn’t ya tell me I had a visitor?!”

“I-Just-Did-Did-Did,” Axelia replied, and her tinny voice almost seemed to carry a hint of amusement, but maybe Minnie was hearing what she wanted to hear.

“Well ya shoulda told me sooner!” Mickey yelped, now very aware of his exposure, and his filth, and he felt a great need to cover himself – or die, whichever came easier. He tried to get up on his own, her presence so overwhelming he forgot his own disability, and he promptly fell over. Minnie could see it clearly now, his deformed left leg that refused to work. It twisted at an unnatural angle, but thankfully Mickey didn’t appear to be in pain – physically. Emotionally he was a wreck. “I-I woulda gotten the place cleaned up! Made her some tea, o-or somethin’, and, aw, gee, this place is a pigsty! Look at me! No, don’t look at me!”

Minnie stifled a giggle. Normally most men and women she came across got over their surprise fairly easily, and then treated her with utmost respect, speaking calmly and with reverence. She found herself enjoying Mickey falling apart at the seams. It was very real, if she had to put a word to it. A very mean aspect of her kind of wanted to wind him up further, but she held it back. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you. Was I interrupting your work?”

Axelia didn't help Mickey, which Minnie found odd. Instead, he pushed himself back up before Minnie had a chance to offer aide, and he glanced quickly to his project. “No,” he lied. “Nothin’… Nothin’ important. I’ll get to it later.” His tail flicked back and forth, and he rubbed one of his arms, nervous. “Uh… what brings ya by?”

Seeing as her mere presence was sending him into a heart attack, Minnie knew she couldn't tell Mickey that she'd become utterly fascinated by his mystery and needed to learn more about him. But Daisy was wrong, mermaids weren't useless ditzes, because they had given Minnie a perfect idea. “Well, I saw those lovely trinkets you made for the mermaids and nereids, so I was wondering, if you could...May I have one?”

Mickey scratched his nose as he listened, but stopped soon enough as he appeared to realize this was not something one does in front of a lady – a lady lady. But in its own way, her request seemed to both deflate him and cheer him up. Of course she had come for his handiwork – it was all he could do. As if anyone would actually come for him alone! Yet at the same time, his fame had reached out and clearly impressed someone – he wasn't sure if she was mortal or spirit or something else altogether – and they'd made the effort to come all the way out here to his humble home. Ultimately he decided to take it as flattery. “A’course I can make ya somethin’. That’s my specialty. What did you want?”

Alas, she hadn't planned this far ahead, and Minnie fidgeted. “What? Oh, um, I...I'd like anything really!” When his eyes narrowed, she panicked, and she tugged so hard on her sleeves she was worried she'd tear them off. “A bracelet? Anklet? No, a necklace! I, uh, I'm not sure, I mean, I'd really be happy with whatever you made!”

What Minnie didn't know was that Mickey wasn't annoyed. It was hardly the first time he'd come across someone indecisive. Sometimes he welcomed the challenge. As Minnie sputtered excuses, he picked up his walking stick and brought himself up. It took two and a half steps to approach Minnie, and when he stopped, it was his turn to study her. He cupped his chin, nodded once, and then used his walking stick to lift her dress – just a bit, to see her ankles.

Minnie was a new goddess, and a new life in general, but even she had the faint notion that this wasn't something done between man and woman on a first meeting. She froze, her cheeks becoming redder than the lava flowing from above. “Wh-wh-what are you doing?!” She was so shocked it didn't occur to actually stop him.

“Lookin', what's it look like I'm doin'?” Mickey answered coolly, oblivious to how this appeared. “See, you don't need anklets. You're the type to wear dresses that cover your legs, so it'd either get tangled or ignored. Even if you did, people would look at your toes anyway, that's what would catch attention instead of an anklet.” He dropped her dress, and then seized her wrist in his hand, turning it over. “Hmmm...nope, you don't need a bracelet either. Got thin wrists, it'd irritate your hands.” He dropped her hand with ease, leaning back to scrutinize what was left. “No on the necklace. You're a modest gal, you wouldn't trust people's eyes there. Can't do earrings either, shape is all wrong. You'd have to use all that space to make an impact, that'd just be a hassle day by day.”

Minnie's disappointment grew with each well-meaning assessment – had she come all this way for nothing? What other way could she strike up a natural sounding conversation with him? Yet as Mickey squinted at her forehead, there was a glint in his eyes. “Do me a favor, lower your head. Just a bit.” Minnie obeyed, unsure what else to do, and waited as his eyes darted all around her forehead and between her ears. Finally, Mickey pounded the ground once with his stick. “A tiara!” he declared with a finger up. “That'll work just fine! Got plenty of space around there, so it can have hanging jewelry – no, seashells! I'm seein' seashells, and sea glass!”

He turned to his right, calling out, “Axelia!” To Minnie's continued confusion, only the one that had been working on a spear no one would use lifted her head. “Get three others and start work harvesting materials from the tides! I want results by tomorrow night.”

Minnie didn't wait for permission to pop her head back up, now elated beyond measure. Not only had the idea worked, but the very sound of this gift seemed delightful, and she could feel it already sitting atop of her head. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I would love a tiara! Thank you, thank you!” She practically skipped up to him, ready to give him one of her classic hugs and he clearly hadn’t expected her to get any closer – he scooted back as far as his awkward leg would allow, blinking rapidly and his cheeks coloring. Minnie stopped, and there was a stiff pause between them, the two of them unsure of what the other's attitude meant.

After a soft swallow, Minnie dared to start things up again. “Is there anything I can give you as payment? I have a lot of treasures myself.” Every day her throne was filled to the brim thanks to admirers who had only caught a glance of her.

Mickey’s mind jumped –  for the first time in his life he was physically attracted to someone, so the idea of payment from her gave him all sorts of images - he bit the inside of his cheek to stop it. “Aw, I don’t need nothin’. I got everythin’ I need here, who could ask for anythin’ more?” He shrugged the offer away dismissively, telling himself if he had asked for a kiss on the cheek, either she would have thrown him into the lava, or he'd have jumped in himself. “Might take a few weeks, I got a bunch of other orders to do. Can't just push you to the head of the line.” Speaking of that, he decided his personal project could wait. He waved for the nearest Axelia to pick it up to stow away, and have it replaced with an unfinished necklace.

“That’s very kind of you,” Minnie kept smiling, and soon he smiled too. Some of the other Axelias had stopped what they were doing to watch them. The two mice held a very long gaze that made Mickey feel as if he was shrinking, while Minnie was deciding some things for herself.

Mickey took a breath, and then turned away from her, hitching his shoulders up. “Guess I better get started.” That would be the signal for her to leave, and he picked up his hammer. It would be a very interesting couple of weeks, he knew it, as he waited for her to come back and marvel at what she had made him. He was already picturing the tiara – blue with streaks of the sea – but when he lifted his hammer, he heard his bench creak, and saw in the corner of his eye that Minnie was now sitting next to him. She was close enough that he could feel her dress on his good leg.

Mickey awkwardly kept his arm up, staring at her. “…You forget somethin’?”

“No,” Minnie had her hands in her lap, with that ever present smile on her face. “I wanted to watch you make it. Do you mind?”

Whenever Mickey had tried to discuss how he made his projects for his family in the sea, he could see their eyes glaze over in boredom, and in seconds they'd be trying to change the subject. He couldn't blame them. No one could understand or see the same fun and excitement he did when he was crafting. To others, it was long tedious work. To him, it wasn’t work – it was his reason to be. He still held his arm up, perhaps forgetting it was even there. “I…uh…well… i-it ain’t any fun-I mean, for yourself, wouldn’t be any fun… and you’d just get all dirty.” Even now, the ends of her dress were starting to blacken in grime and dust.

“Please, can I watch?” Minnie knew a bat of her eyelashes tended to make things go her way, as they were doing now. Normally this would annoy her, as it meant no one was paying attention or even thinking about why she was asking what she asked. But only for him did she employ the full powers of her beauty, watching his heart flip-flop in his eyes, telling herself it'd be just this once to get her foot in the door. “If you’ll let me, I’d really like to learn.”

His hand shook, but it finally came down, banging his hammer against the hardening project on the anvil. “D-do what ya want,” he finally managed to stutter out. “I ain't gunna tell ya whatcha can do, no sir…” he mumbled as he kept hitting the copper, very aware of Minnie leaning on him. Surely she'd get tired of this in no time. “This, uh... this here's copper. It's good stuff to work with. You can use it right away instead of havin' to extract it from ore. Doesn't react to water, which is another bonus, especially when you're makin' stuff for folks who live in water.”

“What does that mean?”

Mickey, again, found himself at a loss for words and stopped what he was doing. The question itself was simple and he could answer it in his sleep. But the existence of the question meant not only was she was listening, she was interested in what he had to say. He was, for one of the few if not first times in his life, having a fair back and forth conversation. “Uh. Well. It has to do with rust. A lot of metals rust, that's when they get exposed to air or water or other things and turn color, sometimes turning brittle.” Minnie asked for an example, and he spoke of iron, of both its useable qualities and its small annoyances. Then they were back to copper, then to tin and bronze, going to minerals like azurite and turquoise, what elements worked together, and for each new fact Minnie had a new question.

It was one of the best conversations either of them had ever had in their lives. Minnie didn't feel like an idiot for not knowing these things, because Mickey was patient and calm, happy to tell what he spent his life on. Mickey lost some of his stutter as he was allowed to gush about designs for weapons he couldn't use – the giant yellow thing had been deemed a ���lightning bolt”, part of a security system that he admitted he had no need for since no one was after him. He showed her how heat allowed him to twist metal and glass to his whim, and she praised his cleverness while hoping he wouldn't burn himself. She learned his favorite color was orange – a hazy, setting sun orange, to be exact.

Mickey offered her his ideas and she was allowed to give her opinion on what worked and what didn't. He took them in stride, thanking her for her honesty, and she asked, asked, asked, and he answered, answered, answered, and they were happy. Hours passed, which meant nothing to a goddess, but it did mean something to a god that was immortal in youth but not in spirit. His words began to jumble and his eyelids drooped. It wasn't until he yawned for the third time in a row before he put down his tools. “Sheesh! I dunno what you're made of, Minnie, but I need to get some shut-eye.”

“Oh!” That's right, there was supposed to be something off about him, like his leg, but Minnie had completely forgotten. Didn't Daisy mention it during Minnie's first lovestruck stupor? Something about ambrosia – she'd have to catch up with Daisy about that. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up. I just lost track of time, this was so much fun!”

Mickey chuckled, finding he couldn't disagree. “Gotta admit, this was different. Wasn't so bad.” He'd been so pleased by the entire day's affairs that he never got around to asking what she was – and decided it really didn't matter. He picked up his walking stick, and stumbled to get around his work bench, his left leg dragging on the floor.

Minnie sprang to her feet, trying to take his arm. “Here, let me help you!”

The affectionate aura between them was abruptly interrupted when Mickey sharply pulled his arm back, clutching his stick. “No! That's...No, I don't need help.” His cutting voice rolled into a mumble, eyes moving down. It wasn't as if he had forgotten his leg, merely that it wasn't important in those flying hours. But now it was important, and he was a hideous, malformed reject, and he would not take pity about it – even if he wasn't correctly identifying what was pity and what wasn't. But he still wouldn't have it, not even from a pretty girl who had made him feel less alone for one day. “I've never needed anyone's help, not in years. Just...just remember that.”

As Mickey hobbled his way to his room, Minnie was utterly baffled – what in those few seconds had she done wrong? Did five words destroy a wonderful moment? “I...I didn't mean...I'm sorry.” Even if she had no idea what she was apologizing for, it came. “Can I still come back tomorrow?”

For the last time that day, Mickey paused due to bewilderment. He gradually turned back to look at her, wondering if he'd heard right. “Huh?”

“I said, 'can I still come back tomorrow?'” Her hands were knotted together, pleading and expecting. She thought she had insulted him again, but Mickey honestly didn't think she'd want to come back until her tiara was ready. “I promise, I won't help you at all! Can I still come? Can we still talk? Can I still ask you things?”

Still, still, still, as if she'd been expecting to come back all along and this was merely a sidestep! Mickey didn't know anything about love – it was as foreign to him as most manners – but he did know happiness, and that bubbled in his throat like fresh seafoam. He covered his mouth with the back of his palm as if that would stop the silly looking smile from appearing. He had to force his voice to sound masculine, which was difficult for someone naturally squeaky. “L-L-Like I said before, I ain't gunna tell ya whatcha can do.”

Minnie took this as a positive, and she jumped with a hard clap. “Oh, thank you, Mickey!” She would've tried to hug him again, but she didn't want to risk upsetting him again – which was a shame because he would've welcomed it this time. “I'll be here bright and early, with lots and lots of questions! I want to know all about sea glass!” How did mortals end these things? Ah, yes! She curtsied again, “Goodnight, Mickey!” And flounced down the cave's entrance, each step merrier than the last, humming a made-up song of serene notes.

Mickey raised an eyebrow as he watched the girl until he could no longer see her. Were girls, not made of scales and screws, all like her, or was she weird all on her own? Not that this was a bad thing. He stayed there a moment longer, and then went to bed, though sleep didn't come for a while. He laid on his sheets, hands on his chest, saying her name over and over – he feared if this all really had been a dream, he'd forget with sunrise, so he hoped that by repeating her name he'd never forget.

Minnie, Minnie, Minnie - he had a thousand questions of his own to ask, but felt he had no right. Maybe in time she would tell him without his prodding. Maybe, maybe, maybe, Minnie, Minnie, Minnie – and he fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

~*~

Minnie could sleep whenever she wanted, but now she was far too excited to do it – she felt as if she would never sleep again! He enjoyed her company! He answered her questions! If only there was a way to make everyone feel the way she felt now! Of course, no one on Mount Olympus would understand, and Minnie often found Daisy by schedule or sheer luck. Minnie needed to express this somehow, someway, and as she danced through villages, spreading her glee unknowingly – many mortals that night would wind up having soothing dreams of their special someone – she remembered that she owed part of this joy to Goofy, and it was high time to pay him back.

Sadly it was the middle of the night, and Minnie knew it would be rude to awaken him for this joyous news just yet. But he had to be rewarded, and as she let himself in his quiet house, she saw the statues and thought of Axelia – a statue that could move, made by Mickey's hands and will. Minnie looked her at her small hands, so tiny and often helpless – but Mickey was tiny too and he had done incredible things.

Minnie wound up in front of the sad statue of Millicent, forever lost to the sea and forever reminding Goofy of his lost love. The goddess gazed at her with a new expression – perhaps, she too, could create.

~*~

Goofy's morning routine was mostly the same every day. He would tumble out of his makeshift bed, say good morning to his statue of Millie, she'd say good morning back, he'd find a way to the kitchen, eat a modest meal, and then go into town to either make money or find inspiration. As he began cutting his bread for breakfast, he thought about his point-by-point schedule.

Maybe I ought to change things up, he pondered, so I can find me some inspiration. Do something new. Every day I do the same ol' things. I get out of bed, say hello to Millie, she says hi back, I go to the kitchen, I -

Goofy's hand halted mid-cut. Something about that train of thought didn't seem right. He went through it again. I get out of bed, say hello to Millie, she says hi back, I -

She...SHE SAYS HI BACK?!

Dropping the knife, Goofy ran back to his bedroom, which wasn't easy since he had to slide and shift among his many differently shaped artworks. He fell into his bedroom, and when he sat up, there stood a black furred poodle folding his bedsheets and fluffing his pillow. When she finished and saw him, she smoothed down her dress and smiled at him. “Did you forget something, Goofy?”

To Goofy's credit, he did do something new that morning. For the first time in his morning routine, he fell over in a dead faint.