#the mighty ducks preferences

[gaffney]

Do you know if linda has a last name?

oooo lmao good question! because yes she does and no she doesn't... no, because she was never given one in d3 (not even in the end credits) so i guess it's not "official", but yes, because they did give her a last name in both an earlier version of the D3 script and the D3 novelization.

old D3 script: linda jeffries

D3 novelization: linda chavez

so i guess if you need one you can make one up or use one of the two above!!!

[hotheadedhero]

Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

Part 2

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

[apricot-blossomss]

Hey. I LOVE what you've been writing for Apollo. Could I request something preferably gn but up to you?

Something about a devotee of Athena and Ares' lover? Like they were a wonderful fighter, got spotted and gained Athena's favour (I was kinka thinking like Odysseus). I just thought the idea of one of Athena's heroes loving her rival

☛ athena's devotee! gn! reader having a secret love affair with ares

☛ sfw, fluff & angst, first oneshot for ares!

Peace had never really been an option for you. From a young age, your life had been marked by chaos, violence and war- all things you were good at. Maybe that was the reason meditation or calmly going into yourself just didn't work for you. Thus, you were making the training puppets the victims of your pent up frustration.

Being a hero of Athena had its blessings and curses, and you walked on the fine balance between the two. Hacking at the props blindly, your mind wandered to one of the more ambiguous side effects of your position- though it was all but inherent. But if you hadn't been a chosen devotee of Athena, you would have certainly never caught the eye of another god who had all but holy intentions.

Suddenly, one of the figures you were attacking parried and you ripped your eyes open, just in time to dodge a hit by your opponent and get a closer look at him. The initial shock turned into excitement as you deflected a blow and evaded the sword of the mighty god of war himself. With a new rush of adrenaline in tow, you ducked and attacked his flank. Effortlessly, his sword arm shot down, and he took advantage of your short moment of hesitation and his physical superiority to disarm you and make you unable to retrieve your weapon- or steal his, your speciality- by pulling you into his chest and locking you in.

With a mirth in your eyes that made him crazy every time, you smiled up at him. "We have to stop meeting like this, or I'll win again."

"Ts," he made and his dark baritone vibrated against your body, since he still held you snugly against his broad chest. "Only because I let you win." He released you, and in complete contrast to the brutal swing of his sword, his touch was now very gentle as he set you down. You appreciated it, because it was rare that anyone had a little gentleness for you.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself," you grin and saw him mirror your expression. The god bent down to get your sword off the ground and wordlessly handed it back to you. You took it and wrapped your smaller hand around his as you walked over to the shed where you kept your weapons. He let you take him there without any resistance.

Even after all these months, holding your hand was still a strange feeling to the god. Not only that it was so much smaller, it was so soft, and yet had the same small cuts and bruises as his. Not that Ares had ever been good at reflecting on, much less expressing his feelings, but he did know that holding your hand felt good.

"Rough day?," you asked, and he wondered how your eyes could still be so kind, even when looking at him, even after what your life had become.

"Rough life," he said and you laughed at his poor attempt of a joke. He resorted to what he could do best, aside from fighting: he frowned in response. Because he didn't want to let you see how your little laugh had his chest swell with- something. Something warm, something good.

"So, what do we do about that?" you asked and your peppy optimism made him chuckle. He did know one thing: life was hell for the both of you. Only he frowned, and you enthusiastically pulled him away from the fighting grounds to savor the little time you two had with each other at a more peaceful place- and yes, you were aware of the irony of that.

At a secluded spot on the beach, you rested in the shadow of a tree and put a head on his shoulder. With him, you were always the one to make the first move. In touching and kissing because Ares was very unsure of himself when it came to affection, in fighting because he was too sure of himself. You snuggled closer to him and he got the message and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "Ares?"

A low hum was all you got in response. "Did you... did you tell Lady Athena about us?"

"No," he said curtly and looked down at you. His fiery eyes were somehow more calming than the quiet sea, or the soft wind. There had to be something wrong with you, that you could lie in the hands of destruction and feel more content than you would any other place. "Why?"

Chewing on your bottom lip, you looked back out onto the ocean, with its gentle, rippling waves, and wished you could parve a way through them to make them feel like you felt. Divided. "She asked me whether there was someone- someone more important to me than her."

"Am I?"

Shocked, you turned around and slapped him across the neck which only made him smile in amusement. "Gods, you're just as bad as her! Why does it always have to be a 'more' or a 'most' with you both?"

Ares gave you an apologetical smile and caught your hand, just to guide it into his locks, a rare show of initiating contact. "It always is with us. I'm sorry you're caught in between that."

"I love you both," you said stubbornly and caressed his scalp, making him groan in delight and rest his head on your shoulder. "Why can't I just love you both?" He didn't answer that question, and you were glad he didn't. Because the topic had turned awfully negative, you smiled down at him cheerily. "Well, at least it's exciting, all that sneaking around and hiding. Like a stealth mission with an unusually lovable partner."

"I'm not," he said, eyes closed and savoring your warm touch. "I'm not lovable. You are." It wasn't flirting, but maybe as close to it as he could.

"If you aren't lovable, what am I doing here?" you asked, making him look at you and hovering just over his lips in a silent challenge for him to close the gap between you.

"No idea," he whispered, something he rarely did, and leaned up to kiss you. Weirdly enough, Ares kisses were shy in the beginning, and as soon as you made them more, he exploded into a fervor of spit and passion and clashing teeth as if he had been constraining himself for too long. You knew why, he didn't have to tell you. Or rather: he did tell you, in the way he held your hands, your body, the back of your neck as he responded to you deepening the kiss with a series of passionate kisses, capturing your lips as if in a haze of fury.

It was you who broke away- never him, always you. Looking up into his restless eyes, in your own little world with him, breathing each other's breaths, you let your smile be, and he his frown. Just looking, just feeling, just thinking about each other and not sharing your thoughts because you trusted und knew each other enough.

"Being divided isn't so bad, you know?" you said and brushed his raven black hair out of his eyes, one of which being adorned by a vertical scar. "I'd be less whole, if I was- whole, you know?"

"I'm not good with your philosophical monologues," he said gently and pulled you closer, but you knew he understood, even if he didn't know he did.

🗡️

"Brother."

The last thing Ares wanted to talk to as he was drowning in the oh so sweet memories of last night was his tight-lipped sister and rival Athena. Still, he took notice of her by looking up from the attack he was overseeing on earth. He was surprised to find her not decked in her usual armor but dressed in a simple, functional tunic.

"May I sit?"

Grumbling under his breath and nodding, the god redirected his eyes to the battle down on earth. He had a good idea what she wanted from him, but he wasn't going to give it up. That she was the goddess of strategy didn't change the fact that Ares, too, understood the subtext here. The tunic meant a deal, a draw, that, if Athena had her wish, would result in her making him leave you.

He knew how she would do it, because he knew her. She wouldn't outright say it, she would break him down bit by bit, telling him he was not fit, he was going to cause you harm, that you deserved better. But it wouldn't work. Not because he knew it was wrong- it wasn't. But because, at heart, he was a selfish man. He loved you unconditionally, but as long as you didn't strike against him with the attempt to do harm, he would not leave you. And even then, he would never stop loving you, not ever. That he knew.

"They are not going to win, you know?" Athena said quietly as she seated herself beside him, nodding down to the battlefield.

"I know." Silence. "They will wreck unrepairable damage to their enemy, though." He felt Athena's grey eyes on him, but he didn't return their frown. His gaze had wandered- it had never been wholly focused on the fight in the first place. There you were. He spotted you, cooking dinner in your cabin for yourself. Always a bit more than necessary, in case he would come. He had been planning to.

"Is that what you're trying to do to me?" his sister asked him sharply and Ares' head shot around at the remark.

"This isn't about you"

"Of course it's about me." Athena let out a short, dry laugh. "It's about me and your pride. But they don't have anything to do with this. Leave them out of this fight, do not use them against me."

Ares had been wrong, and it felt like a gut punch. His sister didn't even allow him the grace to assume he could love you. Of course. He was just a bloodthirsty monster after all, unable to love, only lust and kill. Because he didn't know how else to say it, and because the heat bubbling in his chest threatened to explode into violent rage, he told her. "I love them."

"No, you don't," Athena hissed. "If you would, you would leave them alone. You are selfish and lustful, and you want to corner me, but it won't work."

"Are you trying to lecture me about love?" Ares scoffed, having a hard time containing his anger. "About selfishness? You are so self-centered, you can't even see- you can't-" He was raging now, which was always a bad move against Athena.

"They deserve better than you," she said coldly. "They deserve a gentle, loving spouse who will grow old with them and be there for them."

"Yes," the god confirmed. "But they chose me. Respect that, sister," he growled as his troops retreated and rose to his feet, uninterested in continuing the conversation. Athena was uncharacteristically quiet when he stormed off.

🗡️

The door slammed so hard against the wall that you jumped, even though you instinctively knew who it was. Not even a second later, strong arms closed around you from behind as you felt his chest heave against your back. His raspy voice next to your ear. "Kiss me or I'm gonna break something."

"What's wrong?" you breathed as you turned around in his arms and found yourself face to face with pure, unfiltered rage. His grip on you only tightened as if he was barely holding himself together. For a moment you were unable to breathe at all as you looked into his eyes.

With a long groan, his lips clashed with yours. In the heated kiss, you could feel all his pent up frustration, all his anger and fury. It was amazing. You kissed him back, standing on your toes for better access, and he hoisted you up onto the counter effortlessly. "Don't- fuck- don't look at me," he mumbled in between kisses.

Instead of an answer, you brought your hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. His wandered to your waist as his lips travelled down your neck, biting and marking like a man possessed. Moaning out a curse, you reluctantly pulled away from him. "Ares- if she sees the marks-"

"She knows," he muttered darkly, continuing his ministrations as you felt your lungs constrict. Unable to think about the consequences of this as he was covering your neck and collarbone in marks and bruises, you let his rough hands slip under your shirt, kneading your waist. Ares cursed when you pulled at the roots of his hair and you could feel his hot breath caressing your ear. "You're mine, right? You love me?"

"Y-yeah," you chocked out as he nibbled at the base of your throat. "I'm yours, I love you." The only answer you got was a guttural groan. Suddenly, you felt the tension leave his body as he slumped into you, hiding his face in the marked up crook of your neck. His arms encircled you as he caught his breath slowly. How fast had he sprinted to get to you?

You released your grip on his dark locks and opted to brushing through them gently. With a low hum, you let him catch his breath and cool his anger, curling into your body, as you caressed his hair and shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes"

The answer surprised you. As he looked up from your neck, you could see that the fiery storm in his eyes had calmed slightly. For a second, he looked really tired, before his signature frown adorned his face once more. "But not here. Not now."

You nodded and pecked the tip of his nose. "I'll draw you a bath, alright?" Only reluctantly, he let you go and when you slipped through the door, he propped up his head on his hands, rubbing his temples. They deserve better than you. Yes, you did. But he knew he couldn't give this up: your kisses, your hands caressing his hair, your understanding eyes and soothing voice that called out for him from the bath.

The tub was still a little too hot, but that was exactly what he needed. Laying down in the warm water, he looked up at you with your shining eyes and breathtaking smile. How could he be the god? You were divine.

Running a sponge over his shoulders softly, your hands traced his many scars and he felt himself grow self-conscious under your observant eyes. "I'm not... beautiful," he said into the silence, in lack of a better term. Surprised, you looked up at him and frowned. "Yes you are. Have you seen yourself?"

He didn't answer, so you leaned down, put your arms around his soaked, naked shoulders and ran your lips up and down his scars. Your hair grew moist as you rested your head on his shoulder, intertwining your hands with his. "You are the most beautiful man I know. Inside and out."

Ares couldn't believe you, but the words still felt nice, as did your touch, so he only leaned into it, sighing into the relief you offered his restless soul.

They deserve better than you.

He tried to drown out the words and only concentrate on you. If he could, he would write you elaborate declarations, but that wasn't his thing, so he only kissed your temple softly and closed his eyes, knowing he was safe with you now, for however long that may be.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[sweet-caress-of-twilight]

Disney Animated Canon Dashboard Simulator

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

How do I look?

🦌 a-life-in-the-woods Follow

mid

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

That's why your mom is dead

🦌 a-life-in-the-woods Follow

ik you're not talking when your uncle killed your dad 💀be so fr rn

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

moots you have 24 hours to unfollow a-l*fe-in-t*e-w**ds

🧞‍♂️ phenomenal-cosmic-power Follow

geez, wanna buy some vowels?

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

how dare you say we piss on the poor

#classism tw

🧞‍♂️ phenomenal-cosmic-power Follow

I'm not classist, my best pal is a street rat

🐭 rescue-aid-society-official Follow

Actually, we prefer the term "mouse" - Bernard

🧞‍♂️ phenomenal-cosmic-power Follow

I don't believe it, another "piss on the poor" moment? I'm not even talking about you dawg 💀

⚡️ b01t Follow

...

🥖 one-jump-ahead Follow

actually I wouldn't mind being pissed on

🌺 jasmine-like-the-flower Follow

AYO?

📖 milo-thatch Follow

#aladdin horny heritage posts

💛 more-than-this-provincial-life Follow

h

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

I SHOWED YOU MY COCK IN DMS PLEASE RESPOND

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

I CAN'T BELIEVE I'VE BEEN BLOCKED BY BELLE ANYWAYS DNI IF YOU STAN THE BEAST

🕯 b3-0ur-gu3st Follow

#THE BEAST SWEEP

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

shut your goofy ass up before I melt you

😜 yaa-hoo-hoo-hooey Follow

Gawrsh, did someone mention me?

🐤 d0n4ld-duck Follow

hes not talking about you you big palooka

😜 yaa-hoo-hoo-hooey Follow

Actually, you're supposed to put an apostrophe in the word "he's"

🐤 d0n4ld-duck Follow

GAHHHHHHH WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA?

💚 theboywhowouldntgrowup Follow

adults are so annoying like go pay your taxes grandpa 🙄

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

You are a minor who knows nothing about the world. You are the ugly one here. I can make YOU shut up but I suggest you one thing. You don't want to deal with a devil like me.

🐊 tiktokcrok Follow

Hi

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

moots please tw crocodiles

💎 m4d4m-m3dus4 Follow

BOO

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

THIS IS THE LAST STRAW MEDUSA!!!!!11 I'M BREAKING THE MUTUAL!!1111!!

🐚 p00r-unf0rtun4t3-s0u1s Follow

And this, my darlings, is why we don't put our triggers out in public

💜 m3g4r4 Follow

Hercules save me

💜 m3g4r4 Follow

Hercules

💜 m3g4r4 Follow

save me Hercules

💪 zer02hero Follow

Never fear, I'm on my way!

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

Nice pfp bro

💪 zer02hero Follow

254.421.81.132

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

uhm,,,,this entire dashboard is rife with sin and degeneracy. Do you all have no shame?

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

fiwruehfiuerhgiuerhughgeuyrhg

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

Sorry that was Djali typing anyway OP literally tried to burn me at the stake for being Romani????

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

And I would do it again to cleanse the world of your wickedness! You flaunt your heresy and expect us to applaud?

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

how about you keep that energy when you look in the mirror? cause last i checked, your obsession with me wasn’t exactly “holy”

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

You dare speak to me of obsession? I shall have you blocked and reported from this webbed site!

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

lol ok

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

DO NOT SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY! YOU SHALL ANSWER TO DIVINE JUDGMENT!

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

frollo got termed lmao sucks to suck

🔥 officialhades Follow

that sucks, i was gonna invite him to my place for a BBQ

🔮 th3-gre4t-and-powerful Follow Why do I always wake up to the chaos of this dashboard? I need coffee and Kuzco's head on a platter.

🦙 realemperorkuzco Follow

tf is u doing ur really killing my groove here :(

🔮 th3-gre4t-and-powerful Follow

Get off of my dash.

🦙 realemperorkuzco Follow

u havent blocked me tho

🎢 pull-teh-lever Follow Uh, Yzma, are we still making spinach puffs for dinner? Asking for a friend.

🩶 bear-nessities Follow

Hi guys, this is my first post here! Good vibes only!

📖 milo-thatch Follow

Unfortunately, there appears to be a spelling error in your username. It is supposed to be "necessities."

🩶 bear-nessities Follow

🤓🤓🤓🤓

🏄🏾‍♀️ 0hana-means-family Follow

Guys, I have a theory: I think Baloo and Little John are the same person. I mean, have we ever seen them online at the same time?

🦊 stealfr0mtehrich Follow

You know, Little John did get termed recently....

🦊 g00dby3-may-seem-4ever Follow

Nice pfp

🦊 stealfr0mtehrich Follow

Thanks, I stole it from you

#oodelally

😴 br1arr0se Follow

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

Um this is extremely offensive to people who have been put under sleeping spells??????

🍎 myprincecame Follow

Excuse me, Simba, but Aurora has been putting under a sleeping spell, as have I. Please don't spread negativity here :(

🍎 myprincecame Follow

plsushthepostistreu - Sleepy

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

you know that by being sleepy, you're appropriating the culture of those who have been put under sleeping spells?????

🥖 one-jump-ahead Follow

so...just fuck being tired, I guess?

🍎 myprincecame Follow

Please no profanity on my posts, Aladdin :(

🎩 un81rthd4y Follow

anyone in this thread smoke weed

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

!!REQUEST REQUIREMENTS!!

-> state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and a plot

-> do you have any specifics for the reader? blonde, poc, male, neurodivergent, etc? (please keep in mind i will write poc readers but i’m white so they may be a little difficult for me)

-> requests are preferred to be sent through inbox, but i can make dms work if needed

-> PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOR ME TO WRITE “____ x reader fluff” GIVE ME A PLOT LINE

!!WHAT I WILL WRITE!!

-> platonic

-> romantic

-> familial

-> any gender x any gender

-> headcanons

-> long fics

-> multi character

-> blurbs

-> poly relationships

-> x reader

-> i will only write cheating if it’s a character comforting r after being cheated on, not a character cheating on r

!!WHAT I WONT WRITE!!

-> smut (i’m 15)

-> yandere

-> most aus, ask about the specific au before requesting an au

-> incest

-> age gaps

-> canonical gay/lesbian character x a man (if lesbian) or a woman (if gay)

-> song fics

-> things about ocs

-> ships

-> sunshine x grumpy tropes, i’m horrible at this trope

character list

keeper of the lost cities

sophie foster, dex dizznee, fitz vacker, keefe sencen, biana vacker, marella redek, maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, wylie endal, jensi babblos, stina heks, elwin hesledge

chronicles of narnia

peter pevensie, edmund pevensie, susan pevensie, lucy pevensie, caspian

riordanverse

percy jackson, annabeth chase, grover underwood, jason grace, piper mclean, leo valdez, hazel levesque, frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, travis stoll, connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane

harry potter

harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, neville longbottom, luna lovegood, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, sirius black, james potter, remus lupin, mary macdonald, marlene mckinnon, lily evans, dorcas meadows, regulus black, barty crouch jr, narcissa black, andromeda black, bellatrix lestrange

ride the cyclone

ocean o’connell rosenberg, noel gruber, mischa bachinski, ricky potts, jane doe/penny lamb, constance blackwood

shadow and bone

alina starkov, malyen oretsev, genya safin, zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, tamaar & tolya, nikolai lantsov

six of crows

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, jesper fahey, nina zenik, wylan van eck, matthias helvar

the outsiders

ponyboy curtis, johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, twobit matthews, dallas winston, cherry valance

the hunger games

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason, cinna, effie trinket

it (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, mike hanlon

the school for good and evil

agatha, sophie, tedros, hort, hester, anadil, dot, nicola, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, clarissa dovey, leonora lesso

the land of stories

connor bailey, alex bailey, red riding hood, jack, goldilocks

scooby doo

shaggy rogers, fred jones, daphne blake, velma dinkley, thorn, dusk, luna

little women

jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, laurie

dracula

dracula, lucy westenra, arthur holmwood, john seward, mina harker, abraham van helsing, renfield, quincey morris, jonathan harker, the brides

frankenstein

victor frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, henry clerval, adam frankenstein, justine mortiz, ernest frankenstein, the bride

dr jekyll and mr hyde

henry jekyll, edward hyde, richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

phantom of the opera

christine daaé, erik destler, raoul de chagney, meg giry, carlotta giudicelli

a good girls guide to murder

pippa fitz-amobi, ravi singh, naomi ward, cara ward, connor reynolds, jamie reynolds, nat da silva

the mighty ducks

charlie conway, adam banks, lester averman, guy germaine, connie moreau, fulton reed, dean portman, julie gaffney, ken wu, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson

monster high

frankie stein, draculaura, clawdeen wolf, cleo de nile, abbey bominable, ghoulia yelps, operetta, rochelle goyle, spectra vondergeist, elissabat, clawd wolf, deuce gorgon, heath burns, jackson jekyll, holt hyde, kieran valentine

the powerpuff girls

blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium, brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

david bowie

david bowie, ziggy stardust, jareth, thomas jerome newton, celliers

sweeney todd

sweeney todd, anthony hope, mrs lovett, johanna todd

the rosewood chronicles

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, jamie volk, ollie moreno, raphael wilcox, anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

hairspray

corny collins, link larkin, amber von tussle, tracey turnblad, penny pingleton, seaweed j. stubbs

attack on titan

eren yeager, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, jean kirstein, sasha braus, connie springer, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, reiner braun, hange zoe, levi ackerman, erwin smith, colt grice, niccolo, yelena, onyakopon, zeke yeager

daisy jones and the six

daisy jones, billy dunne, graham dunne, karen sirko, warren rhodes, pete loving/roundtree, eddie loving/roundtree, camila dunne, simone jackson

doctor who bbc

ninth doctor, tenth doctor, eleventh doctor, twelfth doctor, rose tyler, jack harkness, mickey smith, donna noble, martha jones, clara oswald, river song, amy pond, rory williams, simm! master, missy/gomez master

miss peregrines home for peculiar children

jacob portman, emma bloom, millard nulling, enoch o’connor, olive elephanta, alma peregrine

good omens

crowley, aziraphale, ineffable husbands (poly), beelzebub <3, gabriel, ineffable bureaucracy (poly), nina, maggie, nina and maggie (poly), anathema

miscellaneous characters

sarah williams, bernard the elf, rodrick heffley, varian, lisa frankenstein, the creature (lisa frankenstein)

UPCOMING FANDOMS : what we do in the shadows, star trek, american horror story, torchwood, x-men, yellowjackets

[drconstellation]

i'm sorry i'm a bit slow when it comes to reading comprehension...i thought crowley saves the goats because he doesn't want to kill them, not because they're associated with demons? or did i get that wrong? 🙈

Angelic Sheep and Demonic (Scape)Goats

[Just for reference, the question above was prompted by another meta: Goats, Crows and The Flood]

Thank you for the question. This gives me a chance to write up a sheep and goat meta at length - but I hope you're not going to regret asking it, because its not a simple answer. While I am always saying "it never is in the GOmens AU" I have to admit this one took off with a life of its own (the metas do that sometimes) and has ended up much longer than I thought it would and went to places I didn't expect it to go, but sometimes that is the joy of writing these.

Crowley doesn't want to kill them because he thinks they are innocent and blameless, just like the children of Job - and by extension, we are meant to see he thinks he was unfairly blamed and condemned to be a demon as well. That's it at its most simple level, but by understanding why there is an association between demons and goats will give you a much deeper insight into Crowley's story and why he would act this way. S2 of GOmens is like an onion, you need to peel that thin dry skin off and then slice through several more juicy layers to get the full depth of flavor into the complex meal that has been created for us. Its worth the tears that the chopping of the onion releases in the end. Are you brave enough to find out?

Take the conversation above, between Sitis and Bildad/Crawley. Sitis is a parallel-character to Aziraphale here, wearing the angel's signature teal green, and she questions the demon about the children being threatened with destruction. Then let us put these two parallel scenes side-by side: Sitis vs Bildad and Aziraphale vs Heaven

AZIRAPHALE: Oh. So just his worldly goods. MURIEL: Exactly. Oh, nothing important, no. Just his farm, his camels, his goat, his oxen, his children, his geese… AZIRAPHALE: His WHAT?! MURIEL: His geese. You know, big cross ducks.[flaps arms] AZIRAPHALE: His children?

So we have Sitis looking in horror at a demon at the potential death of her children, and then we have Aziraphale looking in horror at Heaven acting demon-like, not caring if children are destroyed in pursuit of victory over Satan. "Trust in God's plan, Aziraphale. Always," admonishes the shoulder-demon Gabriel (he is so often a shoulder demon - I have words to say about this! - in another meta) In other words, be a good sheep, Aziraphale, and have faith in the Almighty. Don't worry about the goats, or kids. They aren't important.

If you listen carefully during the Job minisode, A Companion to Owls, you'll notice Gabriel prefers to emphasize the number of sheep that will be returned to Job in the end. The Christian church is very big on the sheep imagery! Sheep are considered to be modest, humble, obedient (because they follow one another - you need to be a good follower!) and patient. They follow their shepherd's voice and goes where he directs. (Uh huh...) Followers are described as being part of a flock.

Goats, on the other hand (ah, yes, we'll talk about that in a moment) are considered to be a bit on the nose. Literally. A rutting billy goat is described as having a 'fetid' smell, they can be promiscuous, capricious, devious (wily?) and contrary. Their strong-mindedness, singleness of purpose and leadership qualities (!*) make them the opposite of sheep. While going your own independent way is frowned upon by Heaven, this leading quality of the goat is sometimes used to lead the sheep.

"There are three things that are stately in their stride, four that move with stately bearing: a lion, mighty among beasts, who retreats before nothing; a strutting rooster, a he-goat, and a king with his army around him." Proverbs 30: 29-31

Did you get a good whiff of that sinister archangel, Shax?

(oh boy, some of the stuff I found researching this for more detail...such as "going your own way creates disunity...this leads others astray..." wtf! Looking at this in context with the show makes it kind of, well, some things make more sense to me now? I guess that's a big reflection on the kind of culture I personally grew up in, because I know there are cultures where unity and togetherness is looked upon as happiness and harmony.)

In the tv show, we know the scene blocking - where the characters stand - has great importance. Standing on the right-hand shoulder of another character makes them a shoulder-angel (the dexter side), standing on the left a shoulder-demon (the sinister side.) By watching who stands where usually tells us what moral stance they are taking in that scene.

If we take the example from the Job minisode below, we can see quite an interesting dynamic from the scene blocking. On the left, we have Sitis and Job, who is crouching down. They are an Aziraphale-Crowley parallel-pair, and they are even colour-coded with their colours! Sitis, in Aziraphale's teal on the angelic right of yellow tunic-wearing Job, who's modelling Crowley's suffering for sin but without understanding why. Job has crouched down to highlight Crowley's entrance. On the right the glowing angels are arrayed - Michael on the angelic right shoulder, Gabriel in the middle (more often than not he stands on the demonic left) but this time Aziraphale is taking the far left demonic position, and we know why - he's about to lie like a demon! But even on a grander scale, Sitis, Job and Crowley all stand on the angelic RHS of the visiting angels, making the archangels and Aziraphale all collectively LHS demons in this scene. And Gabriel thought they'd won the bet...*snort*

You should all take a moment to appreciate this piece of Art. Go on. Do it.

Sheep and goats had this right- and left-handedness meted out to them long ago in the bible. The sheep belong to the morally righteous right-hand side, of course, the side of angels, and the goats to the demonic left.

But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. Before him all the nations will be gathered, and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Matthew 25:31-33

This passage and the following lines from Matthew describes how Jesus will judge the righteous from the sinners, and those who have been deemed good will be saved, but those who are deemed unworthy will be treated like goats: "Then he will say also to those on the left hand, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the the devil and his angels" Matthew 25:41

So we've established the link between goats being demons, and the left-hand side, so they have an affinity with Crowley. We can do a bit of humorous visual and word play between kids and children.

Children.

ah.

oh. OH. Hang on a minute...

Lets just take a step back to the beginning of the minisode, where Crawley delivers his short monologue to the assembled goats.

CRAWLEY: You should know why you're about to die. God has abandoned you. The God who claims to love you, who demands your praise, has given you up to be destroyed.

They're rather small goats, aren't they. The kind of size that makes you wonder if they are goat children or grown goats... you know, it doesn't matter - they are little, cute and innocent. You are meant to associate them with kids, now, and in the past. (Like, in the way, way back past. Like not just the Flood, but the Before the Beginning past.) What matters is Crawley's speech to them, because it sounds very much like him repeating his own experience about his Fall from Heaven. We already know from S1 there is a conflict around Crowley's Fall involving wanting to ask God questions. We get to explore this further several times in S2.

Then later, after emerging from Job's cellar, they witness God talking to Job.

AZIRAPHALE: I don't suppose he's getting any answers. CRAWLEY: No. But just to be able to ask the question.

We don't hear all the lines God speaks to Job, but we hear enough to them to understand that they come from the Book of Job 38 and 39. The context behind these two verses is...interesting. I was going to delve into them a little more but I think that will get us off track on this meta, so perhaps I should come back and revisit it separately, but we can note that several ops have pointed out that the lines we do hear God speak clearly to Job can be connected to Crowley. There are no coincidental accidents in S2.

But just look at Job in that last image - the light of God shining brightly down through a hole in the clouds, darkness all around...

Hmm. Remind you of anything. Like maybe... another Voice from above?

Who we've seen has shown a particular dislike for a certain demon, even though most certainly remembers what his name is.

METATRON: Ah, well, always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too.

Well, doesn't that sound just like a demon goat.

That withering look the Metatron gave Crowley in S2E6, the comment about asking "damn fool questions," - just about the only conclusion you can come to is that the Metatron had something to do with Crowley's Fall. What and how exactly is still unclear, but there are some clues in Gabriel's story, as Gabriel is acting as both a parallel and foil to Crowley in S2. At this point we should also talk about the scapegoat ritual that was widely practiced around the near Middle East regions for quite some time.

The scapegoat ritual involved two young goats being chosen for sacrifice, but one of them had the sins of the community spoken over them then set free to wander into the desert wilderness to die, while the other was sacrificed as a Burnt offering to God. This was a symbolic way of removing sins from the community.

It is also applied to the Passion of Jesus. When the gathered crowds are offered the choice between letting Jesus or Barabbas go free, they choose Barabbas. I've written at length how I see this applied to S2 in this meta here: The Passion of Jimbriel: Resurrection and while Gabriel and Crowley share the role of Jesus fairly equally throughout the Passion story line, there is one point it can be split and Gabriel becomes the Barabbas and the goat that was released into the wilderness and Crowley becomes Jesus on the cross - but he turns into the sacrificial lamb! Perhaps that needs to be changed to the burnt offering...

I know there are quite a few meta ops that are aware of the scapegoat ritual, and more often than not I see Aziraphale being suggested as the current scapegoat. But the way I see the ritual being used in GO is not so much in the present story but in the past, and Crowley was the unwilling scapegoat for the rebelling angels that fell.

OK, I think I've run out spoons on this meta, but seeing how its managed to be at least twice the size I initially envisioned it to be, and its since generated two more meta ideas in the writing of it on top of the ones I'm already trying to do, that isn't too bad.

I'll wrap it up by saying no matter who the scapegoat is, Aziraphale needs to let his inner lion out so he can be The GOAT in S3. I'm sure the original nanny-goat will applaud that.

*talking about that topic...I should have a meta out soon centered around Crowley and Gabriel that will cover this. I will probably come back and edit a link in to it.

[ducktoonsfanart]

Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck as superheroes - T-Squad - Regular T-Squad vs My version of T-Squad - Quack Pack Week - Supeheroes - Quack Pack, Quack Pack AU and Duckverse

On April 15, 1938, the famous trio appeared in the classic Donald Duck short, called “Donald’s Nephews”, which will change the history of the Duckverse in part.

I know it's been a while, but on the theme of Quack Pack Week on the theme of superheroes, I draw Huey, Dewey and Louie as superheroes, and also to draw them for their birthday, since I can't forget the underrated version of Donald's nephews, one of my favorites and that is the Quack Pack version. Yes, the teenagers Huey, Dewey and Louie like to read a lot of comics about superheroes and they also wanted to be superheroes and in the first episode of Quack Pack "The Really Mighty Ducks" they became superheroes with the help of a machine by Professor Ludwig von Drake and that like T-Squad. T-Squad actually stands for the Tremendously Talented Trio of Truly Trusted Trouble-Shooters and is made up of Donald's nephews. Huey is The Really Incredibly Fast Guy (like Flash), Dewey is Brain Boy (a bit like Megamind, and like Big Brain from Marvel) and Louie is Captain Muscle (like Hulk). And they became superheroes just to disobey their uncle who ordered them to clean their room. This reminds me of something, doesn't it?

However, there is also Huey, Dewey and Louie from the Quack Pack as my version of the T-Squad, i.e. my superhero imitation for the triplets. They too like to read comics and love superheroes, but they became superheroes in a different way through their connections with their role models, such as Darkwing Duck, Gizmoduck and Duck Avenger (Paperinik), the patrons of Duckburg and St. Canard. If you know from my older drawings Huey is Red Shadow (the inspiration is taken from Shadow and Darkwing Duck), Dewey is Blue Cyclops or Techno Duck (the inspiration is taken from Cyclops from X-men, Ironman and Gizmoduck) and Louie is Green Avenger or Paperinik Junior (inspiration certainly taken from Duck Avenger, but partly from Spiderman, Batman and Green Lantern). Granted, I haven't made special versions for them yet, but I'm definitely working on it, and they'll be in my fanfictions in the future since that's how I envision them, and it's part of my Quack Pack AU.

However, I drew both versions of the T-Squad to show some comparisons and similarities, and admittedly there are differences between them. Both versions of Huey don't really get along, and both versions of Dewey marvel at each other, while both versions of Louie like to show off their muscles. Well Louie as the Green Avenger doesn't have very strong muscles, but he tries to be. At the end there will be a poll as to which version of T-Squad is better, the official one from Quack Pack or mine or both. And yes, I drew as a background behind them the Money Bin, since they are the Duckburg defenders, even though I know Scrooge's vault was not a Quack Pack, it still is in my version of a Quack Pack. By the way, I kind of prefer my version, and let's not forget the song about it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dE7U0RqRLD4

I just wonder where they would join, the Justice Ducks (the group led by Darkwing Duck) or the Ultraheroes (led by Duck Avenger (Paperinik)) or if they have their own group like the Teen Titans? Also this drawing is intended since this drawing is dedicated to the given topic. @quackpackweek

I hope you like this drawing and this idea of Donald's nephews as superheroes (besides the Quack Pack, Donald's nephews were the only superheroes in a few comics) and feel free to like and reblog this if you're a fan of Donald's nephews and superheroes! I just ask that you don't use these same ideas of mine without mentioning me and without my permission, in terms of my version of a superhero for triplets. And happy belated birthday to the best trio!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

YOTP - June

It's around @russingon-week after all, I think...

Have some Russingon for your nerves :)

Now with art by @chechula!!! Go give them a follow!

Pairing: Maedhros x Fingon

Prompts: Wedding/Proposal, Saving the world, (accidental) love confession, “You aren’t what I expected”, Downpour, Soulmate AU

Words: 2 510

Warnings: Injury, prophetic dreams, gender confusion, soulmate AU, blood and rain

Nelyafinwë flexed his right hand absent-mindedly—he’d had another highly confusing dream in which a hand that seemed to be his own was pointing wildly at a blurry landscape in the distance.

Even now, hours after waking, he could not shake the gnawing sensation that he knew the outline of the faraway city, nestled at the foot of a mighty mountain, but, no matter how fiercely he frowned, the liberating recognition escaped him stubbornly.

“There you are,” his father exclaimed impatiently upon finding him ambulating under a quiet colonnade. “Your tutor is awaiting you!”

Nelyafinwë looked up, tempted momentarily to ask Fëanáro about the city in his dreams, but he didn’t dare.

Ever since his childhood, his family had owned and inhabited this vast estate. Nelyafinwë had, nevertheless, always been aware that they’d removed themselves from an entirely different, unknown society for reasons his parents adamantly refused to discuss.

He couldn’t shake the sensation that this imposed exile was somehow linked to him, and so he’d done his best to honour his family’s sacrifice by fulfilling his father’s every ambitious project and exaggerated expectation.

He was, Nelyafinwë thought as he ducked into the library, after all the oldest son, and he owed it to his brothers to be the best role model he could possibly be.

With the fanfare of hasty steps and rustling paper started this most fateful of days, looking much like countless ones before, which would end in the inevitable victory of fate over willpower.

In the afternoon, as he took another wistful stroll, Nelyafinwë passed by his father’s study and was struck by the high-pitched trill in his mother’s anxious voice.

His steps faltered for it was not in Nerdanel’s stolid nature to sound so distressed and breathless, not even in the presence of her formidable husband.

“He’s almost reached the age—” she whispered urgently. “Soon…”

“I care nought about the fate of the world,” Fëanáro thundered. “We’ve gone away so far that none even remember him—surely, whatever destiny that hooded, skeletal soothsayer has foretold for my son, shall not come to pass.”

“You have seven sons,” Nerdanel bellowed. “And if the Kingdom, your Kingdom, falls—what is to become of them? I’m afeared, ‘Náro. Can we truly outrun fate once it has been spoken into the world?”

Nelyafinwë did not hear what answer, if any, his esteemed father made to that passionate exclamation, for he was already racing headlong across the atrium towards the gate, desperate to escape the familial country home and lose himself amongst the old groves surrounding their estate.

All his darkest, most torturous suspicions had been confirmed, and he tended to agree with his mother—nobody, not even his father, could circumvent destiny.

The olive trees loomed dark and fertile on a nearby hill, and he plunged into the blessed shadow as fast as his long, toned legs would carry him.

Nobody should witness him as he came to terms with the terrible doom hanging over his helpless head—even a wretched fool had his pride.

Soon, though, he resented himself for his irrational, puerile reaction. He hadn’t even ascertained the nature of the prophecy that had so distressed his parents, and he knew only too well that being aware of the impending danger was ever preferable if one sought to ward it off.

Nevertheless, he was certain that nothing less than unbearable, unacceptable misery could have made his proud father leave his hitherto unmentioned family to hide away in the countryside.

His head was spinning with the devastating answers to old questions and new contradictions; surely, Fëanáro could not be part of the Royal House, could he?

This absurd revelation conjured up a new avalanche of guilt and despair in the young man; if his mother had spoken true, his father would have deserted his duty and deprived the whole family of a luxurious life for the sake of his oldest son alone.

At once, Nelyafinwë understood the deeper meaning of Nerdanel’s harsh words, and his eyes filled with tears of self-loathing and impuissant rage.

“Cry not, little princeling.”

Nelyafinwë looked up sharply upon hearing the ingratiating tone and the mellow voice coming from deep within the shade of the ancient trees.

“Who goes there?” he called, getting back to his feet to meet any intruder or foe head-on.

“I mean you no harm,” the voice resounded once more, followed by the discreet rustling of leaves and crunching of dry earth underfoot.

A moment later, a tall, beautiful stranger appeared, his mouth curled into a friendly smile—Nelyafinwë shivered in vague prescience.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact matter of contention, but something about that man struck him as odd and eerily uncanny.

“Did you have a falling out with your parents?”

Slowly backing away, Nelyafinwë stared at the long-fingered, broad hand extended towards him as one hypnotised by a snake about to strike.

“You cannot outrun them—you cannot outrun me!” Springing forth suddenly, the stranger grabbed the prince’s shoulders and shook him lightly.

Darkness—asphyxiating and absolute—descended upon Nelyafinwë’s senses, and he fell, insensate, into the waiting embrace of his terrifyingly charming captor.

Visions of his severed hand—pointing now to the sky, now to the dark abyss below his dangling feet—haunted his restless unconsciousness, and he struggled through bone-breaking agony back to the cold, glassy surface of the waking world.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Nelyafinwë understood that, as per usual, his mother had been right—there had never been the slightest chance of escaping his fate.

Thus, he was much less horrified than he should have been when he realised that he was chained to the sheer flank of a small mountain by his treacherous hand.

Somewhere overhead, he thought he could hear someone laughing wildly—Nelyafinwë was far too tired and proud to rile against predestination.

He hung his head and waited.

Findekáno awoke bright and early.

“The time has nearly come,” his mother said mournfully as she slowly poured fresh water from an earthen carafe into his goblet.

“I shall be ready!” he assured her confidently. His bright eyes were drawn to a ridge of faraway hills which separated the city from the remote wilds of the countryside. “I feel the need to travel, alone, to gather my spirits and strengthen my flesh.”

Anairë’s gaze grew soft, and she bent over her beloved firstborn to breathe a devoted kiss onto the crown of braided hair tenderly. “So it shall be then,” she whispered, smiling wistfully.

When she’d been heavy with child, a soothsayer had been brought to her, foretelling great feats of valour and puissance for her yet unborn child, and Anairë had never deemed it necessary to subsequently hide that momentous prophecy from her joyous, optimistic son.

“He shall save the kingdom by his fortitude, and true love shall be granted to him as a boon.”

Even now, as she took a sip of her honeyed wine, she could hear the scratchy, unfathomable voice of the hooded stranger echoing through her weary mind.

Often, she had wondered whether she should have spared Findekáno the terrible knowledge of a vague trial awaiting him, especially upon seeing how single-mindedly and grimly he trained to be prepared for every gruesome eventuality.

“It’s almost time—I can sense it. My dreams have been increasingly troubling as of late,” he confessed under his breath.

“The red-haired maiden with the silver eyes again?” Anairë asked understandingly, yearning to lay her cool hand on the feverish brow of her child as she’d once done through seemingly endless nights of debilitating fear. He’d since grown so strong that she doubted he’d ever need her support and comfort again—the thought pained her, but her gentle smile never wavered.

“I cannot see her clearly,” Findekáno mumbled. “She’s always somewhere very high up, blurred by clouds and mist, and yet I know her.”

He stood abruptly. “Please tell father that I wish him well and kiss my siblings in my stead. I shall return soon. I must go at once!”

“May you be victorious, my darling son,” Anairë sighed as she watched him go. Since the day he’d left the protection of her body, she’d not felt so scared on his behalf, so she lifted her head and squared her shoulders resolutely.

She would not quail in the face of destiny—she’d prepare for her son’s triumphant return.

Findekáno set out without delay, a light pack slung across his back, and made for the distant horizon resolutely.

His mind was still entranced with the blurry vision of a person he’d never met and yet had known all his life—he could not recall when the long-limbed, red-haired stranger had first slipped into his most intimate and intense dreams, but he could not consciously remember her ever not having been part of his hopes and fears either.

Maybe, she’d always been there. Maybe, she was a part of himself. Either way, he was determined to find her, and—if possible—fulfil his mother’s tender hopes by courting her.

By the time he re-emerged from his distracted musings about things that belonged to the realm of potential and phantasms instead of careful planning and saving wisdom, Findekáno had left the city far behind him and was clambering over rocks and down virgin gorges.

Still, his heart did not despond, and so he pressed on indefatigably until he reached a bare, forbidding cliff, its jagged outcrops drawing menacing shadows onto the mossy forest floor.

As he turned his gaze upwards in search of he knew not what, Findekáno saw dark clouds gather ominously, and—a mere moment later—heavy rain started falling like passionate, angry tears from the marred sky.

Through the sudden downpour, he could make out a flash of red, glimmering like a defiant torch behind the curtain of shivering grey.

Momentarily, he considered his trusty bow, but he could not trust his aim in the present meteorological conditions, and he didn’t know how feeble his fated lover would be from her ordeal.

“You always knew that it wouldn’t be that easy,” he chided himself, casting off his pack and weapons and clawing his bare fingers into the slippery face of the wet rock.

The ascent was as perilous as it was arduous, but long years of devoted preparation and stubborn training had made Findekáno far stronger and more resilient than any random, benighted wanderer who might have chanced upon so strange and shocking a sight.

At last, he reached a narrow ledge on which he could stand and rest.

Tilting his face upward, he let his eyes travel along dirty, bare feet and long, shapely calves in captivated speechlessness.

This wretched captive, he knew instinctively, was the person of whom he’d been dreaming his whole life…only, those alluring calves melted into bony knees and seemingly endless thighs.

Impatient by nature, he let his gaze move across narrow hips and a taut, pale stomach hastily until it came to rest, astonished and aghast, on a well-defined but unmistakably flat chest.

Findekáno’s stomach somersaulted and his bleeding, aching fingers went numb; he’d found the love of his life, the person who’d right all the countless wrongs of their realm, the very embodiment of his own elusive fate at long last.

His impervious, bold heart stuttered in his heaving chest. Who was he to question fate? Destiny made no mistakes, and he’d risked too much and come too far to turn back now without at least trying to meet this last exquisite challenge head-on.

“You’re not what I expected,” he blurted out.

“I’m ever so sorry if my impersonation of a deviously beguiled and betrayed abductee is not to your liking,” the other rasped, grey eyes flashing in tandem with the churning sky behind him.

“No, I am sorry,” Findekáno replied courteously. “I…surmised that you’d be a woman, but no matter. I’ve been waiting, hoping, wishing for you. My name is Findekáno.”

“I’d shake your hand, but…” the literal hanger-on smiled sharply. “My name is Nelyafinwë. I’ve learned…was it today? Yesterday? A month ago? I know not…that I was a prince. Before I could fulfil my glorious purpose, though, I found myself…between a rock and a hard place, if you will forgive my grim sense of humour.”

Findekáno nodded feelingly; he’d not brought any crafting tools, and even if he was to climb down again to fetch his bow and his dwindling food supplies, he wasn’t confident that he’d then be better equipped to free what was, in all likelihood, his soulmate.

Already, he felt the eerie but irresistible pull of a power far beyond his understanding or control ensnare every fibre of his being.

Instinctively, he understood that the time of struggle and fight was at an end—he wholeheartedly yielded to the warm chains of a nascent bond taking hold of him and rooting him to the bare rock underfoot.

“Have you come to a conclusion?” he then asked cautiously, ready and willing to follow his fated lover’s wishes and commands.

“The hand has to go,” Nelyafinwë replied dryly. “Unfortunately, I seem to be unable to pull myself up for long enough to gnaw it off.”

Horrified, Findekáno patted his belt. “I have a knife if that is of any use to you?”

Like all people who spent their lives waiting for one very specific event to happen, he was thoroughly overwhelmed and discombobulated by the sheer speed and chaotic violence with which that monumental incident tore through his existence like an avalanche.

Unafraid even in the face of certain devastation, Findekáno straightened in a touching imitation of his mother’s steadfast stance of devoted resolution.

“Hand it over!” Nelyafinwë groaned, stretching out a blood-stained, long-fingered hand.

“Will you marry me?” Findekáno asked, holding the lethal blade out of reach.

He knew not why these words had burst from his lips so uncouthly—he’d always envisioned a long courtship full of peaceful walks and tense repasts in flowering meadows—but he couldn’t deny that it felt right.

Surely, Nelyafinwë also sensed their uncanny link. Didn’t he?

Imprudent and nonsensical as his paroxysm of desperate affection was, he stood firm under the bemused scrutiny of those gorgeous, stormy eyes.

“Is that a proposal? Once I’m out of here, I’ll literally give you my hand in marriage,” Nelyafinwë chuckled darkly.

“Don’t you have to consult your parents?”

“You have no idea how much they’ve hidden from me,” the other commented with an exasperated sigh. “Serves them well. I can’t shake the feeling that this, gruesome as it is, was meant to happen. So, may I have your knife as a token of your suit?”

Surrendering the weapon wordlessly, Findekáno felt his heart soar—he slung his strong arms around the cool, slick legs of his fiancé to steady him and keep him from plummeting to his death as soon as he’d escaped his bonds.

It was wrong, he knew, but—standing on the edge of disaster while blood and rain plastered his tunic to his heaving chest—he was perfectly happy.

Thank you for reading!

-> Masterlist

[ciaossu-imagines]

Again, loving up some underloved fandoms here on Ciaossu-Imagines, so throwing out some headcanons I have about The Mighty Ducks characters! I hope anyone familiar with these movies will enjoy them!

Starting with Averman, he’s definitely Jewish. I think he and Goldberg are really good friends because both of them are Jewish. They attended Hebrew school together, their parents are good friends, and honestly they really rely on each other around the holiday season. Neither boy is ashamed of being Jewish or anything, but especially around the time period those movies are set, Hannukah was not as popular or as talked about as Christmas was. And when all your friends are talking about Christmas and their plans and the gifts they’ll get and all the celebrations you hear about are Christianity based, it’s hard not to feel a little left out so both boys’ kind of really like having another friend they can talk to about their Hannukah plans who will get it. Bonus headcanon but I think Averman has a bigger love of hockey and was the one to get Goldberg into the sport.

Hot take on Adam – I don’t think he’s this abused kid trying desperately to please Daddy. I think that while his father might have high expectations for Adam, his father isn’t really abusive. I think a lot of the pressure that Adam feels – and boy, does he feel a lot – is pressure that Adam puts on himself. I do see Adam as having some issues with perfectionism, with being way too hard on himself, and he struggles with anxiety and a need to be perfect but it’s because Adam himself knows that he’s got a lot of talent and he doesn’t want to waste that talent.

Charlie’s actually got a few hidden skills but the one that ends up surprising most people is that, at one point in his life, Charlie got really into magic and he’s pretty good with a couple of tricks, mostly sleight of hand stuff.

Tammy did enjoy playing hockey, I won’t pretend that she didn’t. But I think when it came down to it, she enjoyed figure skating a lot more. There was more pageantry in that sport, more creativity and more glamour in her mind and I think she left the Ducks before the second movie because she really did want to focus on figure skating and competing in that area. She did win several medals, but I think she largely left the sport around the time she started college.

Julie reads…for fun. While she loves being active and has various hobbies and interests, she’s been a life-long bookworm. She learned to read early, and gobbles books up. She normally gets through at least a book a week and does read a wide variety of things, though she has guilty pleasure reading that she’d be embarrassed if anyone found out about, such as romance novels and the Hardy Boys books.

Guy hates carrying change around with him. There’s just something about the weight of it and the clinking sound it makes in his pocket as he walks that drives him insane. He prefers to carry bills for cash and usually lets the salespeople keep his change wherever he goes.

Surprising thing about Goldberg…the boy is not only gifted with a green thumb, but he genuinely likes taking care of his plants. He only got them because his parents wouldn’t let him get a pet…they didn’t think he was responsible enough for a pet so they bought him a rather high-maintenance houseplant to take care of first so that he could prove that he could be responsible for another living thing. Turns out that he enjoyed caring for the plant so much, even giving it a name, that he ended up wanting more plants instead of an actual pet.

Jesse has a tendency to argue just for the sake of arguing. He legitimately enjoys arguments and I have this headcanon that he found the debate club during high school and it’s the most at home he’s felt since playing with the Ducks. Like, those are his people, that’s where he belongs. He gets really involved with debate throughout his high school career and I think he wants to go to law school after graduating.

Terry Hall…still hasn’t gotten the grasp of gum honestly. Not saying the kid is stupid, because he certainly isn’t. It’s just that he cannot, for the life of him, remember that gum is for consistent chewing, not eating, especially if the gum in question is a really fruity, sweet flavour.

I really do think that Karp is someone who is really easy to take advantage of. He gets bullied a lot as a kid and he’s someone who just naturally is the kind of person who really wants to make others happy and to have others like him. He’s a very generous friend but the fact that he’s willing to do almost anything to have his ‘friends’ like him means that he gets put into some pretty brutal situations and gets used throughout his childhood and teen years.

I think Peter’s an army brat, or something along those lines. Something tells me that this kid is someone who moves around a lot throughout his life because of his parent’s careers. He’s used to never staying anywhere really long enough to form completely solid relationships. He’s used to always being the new kid and needing to impress and be tough enough to both make friends and avoid bullies. I also think that while he really would like to settle down in one spot long enough to make serious friendships, the idea of doing so kind of scares him.

Luis taught himself how to juggle when he was a kid. He’s also really skilled at hackeysack.

Connie has the habit of pacing around when she’s deep in thought. There’s just something about moving that helps her think better and if she really has something on her mind, she tends to go running or jogging. The tougher the problem is, the faster and further she tends to go as she loses track of where she is or how far she’s gone.

Dean can burp the alphabet. Forwards and backwards. He’s really quite proud of this.

Fulton’s worst habit? He’s really bad at sitting and staying still for long periods of time and he starts fidgeting when he has to do so. He’ll stretch, move around in his seat a bit, crack his knuckles, but the worst is his leg because he’s definitely one of those guys who bounces his leg when he’s bored or restless, almost aggressively so.

Dwayne really likes to sing. He’s not horrible at it by any means, though a little tone-deaf. He’s a huge fan, because of how he was raised, of any older country, with Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, and Conway Twitty being favourites of his.

Russ has the tendency to get cold really easily. It can come out of nowhere too, with no real reason for him to have a chill or to be cold. He just is. He tends to always carry an extra layer with him as a just in case.

Ken has weird eating habits. He has to eat all of one thing before he can allow himself to eat the next thing on his plate. For example, if he has fries and a burger, he’ll have to eat all the burger before he’ll start eating the fries. He can’t bring himself to mix and match his food and not even he knows why.

[jpitha]

The Dreams of Hyacinth

Next

Nicholas North ran down the alley, diving over refuse bins and rolling under fences. He could hear the shouts of the CorpCops in pursuit. As he rounded a corner and burst out from the covered alley into a crowded street, Nick noticed it was raining. He hoped the rain would help conceal him from the CorpCops chasing him. He ducked his head down and tried to blend in with the crowd of commuters heading home.

The first time Nick stepped foot onto Hyacinth, he was surprised at the weather. The Orbital was so large that in the huge volume of air high above him there was room for the water cycle to continue. There would be clouds and then rain and then the sun of Sol would shine through the gaps in the arms, warming everyone, and the cycle would begin anew. Now though, the regular rainy days dragged him down. He was in space, on an Orbital high above the Graveyard of the Billionaires. It shouldn't be raining.

Like the locals, Nick called Mars the Graveyard of the Billionaires. Long in the past, some people with more wealth than sense back on Earth attempted to colonize the surface of Mars and remake it into a capitalist paradise.

If failed.

Tens of thousands of people died in the attempt, and in the end the billionaires were murdered in their half completed colony domes as well. These days, nobody even remembers which billionaires it was. Just that they were stupid, killed thousands, and died for it.

Nick dared to glance back into the crowds as he approached the metro. He could see the white and blue uniforms of the CorpCops looking around, their drones hovering two heads taller than they were, scanning people. They were too far back to notice him though; it looks like Nick got away this time. Selkirk would be pleased.

Nick walked with the crowd as they entered the metro station and the thronged mass of people flowed like water down the stairs and escalator to the platform. As Nick reached the turnstyle, he palmed a little handmade device and touched it to the reader. With a satisfied beep, the turnstile opened and admitted him. He didn't know whose account he was using; it cycled through tens of thousands of purloined accounts. If it was a different, random one every time the chances of getting discovered was that much lower.

Nick didn't use the emulator much anyway. He preferred to walk above ground, but sometimes you did what you had to do. Hyacinth was too large to walk from end to end unless you were out to do it just for the sake of doing it.

High Mars Orbital Hyacinth was old.

Built before humans mastered gravity, before they mastered wormhole travel, even before they launched their mighty colony ships and settled other worlds, Hyacinth was an antique. Made in the style of an O'Neil Cylinder, It was 96.5 kilometers long and 32.1 kilometers wide. The numbers weren't nice and round because Hyacinth was so old it was built using the Old Measures. Sixy Miles by Twenty Miles.

Rotating slowly to use centripetal force to borrow a feeling like gravity, Hyacinth had six arms that soared away from the "bottom." Three were habitation and three were mirrored to help reflect the sun into the Orbital and give a kind of day-night cycle. The Habitation arms kept parallel to themselves, and the mirrored arms would swing wider and narrower to direct sunlight into the Orbital. Originally powered by solar collectors and old-style fission reactors, these days Hyacinth used the same type of reactors as the Starjumpers and Colony ships, just a larger version of them.

Just to make sure, Nick rode two stops past his usual stop and got off with everyone. It was a major hub station at the 'bottom' of the arm and one or the first ones people would see when they disembarked from their ships, so it was full of people not familiar with the area, walking slowly trying to make sense of the labyrinthine metro system. That combined with the commuters in a hurry to go home, Nick was able to disappear and make his way to the surface.

Touching his emulator with the purloined identity to the exit turnstile - making sure it was the same user he used for in and out - Nick exited the metro station and looked around. Congregation Square, at the very bottom of Hyacinth. If Nick turned around, behind him would be the base the arms connected to, which houses the docking rings for ships as well as most of the large scale mechanicals for the orbital. Reactors, water and air purifiers, things like that. At the base of the arms, under full gravity, was the administration buildings and embassies, and then Congregation Square itself.

The rain had tapered off by the time Nick made it to Congregation Square and now everything was hot and moist. Doing his best to walk purposefully without looking like he was escaping something he made his way across the square to a coffee stand sitting on the edge of the square.

"Nick! What the hell are you doing down here? I only ever see you in Laurel. What are you doing in civilization?" Laughing, the coffee vendor was doing his best to express surprise at seeing Nick, but also enough familiarity with him so that he would be recognized as one of his regulars - enough to tip generously at the flattery ideally.

Nick looked around, and then at the coffee vendor. He was an old human, with dark skin and a shock of curly white hair on the top of his head. "Hey, Ambrose. Is this where I can find you when you're not in Laurel Square?"

Ambrose nodded, his hair bobbing gently. "On Mondays and Fridays yes. Tuesday and Thursday I'm in Laurel, Wednesday is my day off, and I spend the weekend in Gladiolus."

Nick smiled. "Well then, it must be kismet that we met. Let's do something special. How about a Flat White?"

"Sure thing Nick, what's your dairy today? The usual soy?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah, something special today. To commemorate a... success. Let's go with cow."

As he bustled to get the espresso ready Ambrose stopped. "You sure Nick? Real mammal dairy costs."

Nick waved his hand dismissively. "I said I'm celebrating, didn't I? Cow milk Ambrose. You know it's the only one for the best microfoam in a flat white." Nick placed two paper bills and a small plastic chit on the counter. Cash for Ambrose, the chit for the coffee.

Almost faster than they eye could follow, the money disappeared behind the counter. As Ambrose worked and the pressure built for the espresso, a group of 5 tiny steam whistles sang like a tiny calliope. Everyone who knew Ambrose's coffee cart knew the song.

Ambrose pulled the shot and then quickly blasted boiling steam through the real milk. The sound and scent of the milk was familiar and nostalgic to Nick. Beef is a vital export of Parvati, so when Nick was young he was never far from bovines, and cow's milk really is his favorite in Coffee. The price on Hyacinth normally stops him from getting it regularly, but Nick really wanted to have his flat white just the way he liked it.

Ambrose slid over the coffee in a paper cup and the chit with it. The cash was long gone.

"Thanks Ambrose, I'll see you next week."

"Take care of yourself Nick. I'll keep the cow milk open another 5 days. You can have another drink at a discount so I don't waste it."

Nick raised the coffee in salute and turned away and walked across the square. He took a careful sip. It was almost just like how he remembered it from his childhood on the colony. The coffee grown on Parvati had a different terroir as the Terran coffee, but it was as close as he was going to get unless he spent six months rent on importing some Parvati Gold.

As Nick walked along sipping his coffee and staying off the main roads, his phone buzzed, and his headset projected the caller ID onto his eyeballs. It was Selkirk.

"Hey Sel, what's up?"

Sel had video turned on, so in Nick's upper left of his vision he saw a small image of his K'laxi friend. She had grey white fur and her right ear had a large notch out of it. Below her notched ear is an artificial eye surrounded by a deep, old scar. "Don't give me that false confidence, Nick! You were supposed to check in an hour ago and now I see you walking up from the base with a coffee?"

"Sel, Sel, everything is fine. Better than fine really. Shiny and Chrome. I ran into some CorpCops and had to lose them in the Metro. I rode down to Congregation and found that's where Ambrose goes when he's not in Laurel. Got a coffee to celebrate and I'm making my way back now. No stress Selkirk, no stress."

"Yes stress Nicholas, yes." Sel flicked her ears with irritation. Or was it worry? "Did you get it?"

Nick nodded and took another sip of coffee. "Course I did."

It was in his coat pocket, and the feeling of it was much heavier than its actual mass.

"Get back up here then Nick, We gotta hand it over to Eastern before we get paid. You know how she gets when we're late."

He winced when he mentioned Eastern. He did know exactly how she gets when they're late. "I'm headed back up now Sel, I'll be there in an hour. I don't want to draw attention to myself by hustling, and I want to stay out of the Metro."

The moment he stopped speaking, Eastern's voice could be heard. "I hear your delaying tactics, Nicholas North and they aren't going to work on me. I'm running a timer and for every second over one hour you are getting deducted an additional 1%."

Selkirk just looked at Nick through the call. Her ears flicked again.

"Ancestors Sel, I wish you told me I was on speaker. Hi Eastern, what's up?"

"Your ass, unless you hustle Nick."

"Pleasant as always Eastern. I'll see you soon." Nick disconnected the call.

Nick finished his flat white and tossed the cup into the trash. If he kept on the meandering path he was taking now, his phone said it would take him seventy five minutes to get back to Selkirk. If he moved back to the main street, he could cut it down almost in half to fourty five. Even shorter if he took the omnibus.

"Ugh, fine." Nick turned left and walked over to the main street. As he approached, an electric omnibus clattered and buzzed towards him, the overhead panograph giving off an ozone smell. Cycling another identity with his emulator, he palmed it onto the reader and the doors opened. Stepping aboard, he smelled the hot electric motor, the rubber tires and the masses of people aboard. The electric omibus was much cheaper than the Metro though it was a good deal slower. That suited Nick much better than the expensive and much better guarded Metro.

Nick stood in the middle of the omnibus, hooking his elbow around a pole while he read the news projected onto his eye from his pad. Nick's world was decidedly small in the grand scheme of things, but he still liked to hear about what was going on elsewhere. The Provisional Venusian government looks like they were voting to drop provisional from their title later this year. After their emperor was ousted... and then the next Empress was ousted, Venus decided that maybe having royalty run them wasn't really something they wanted to do anymore. Nick had no skin in their game, but he wished them luck. He wasn't in Sol when that whole business with Empress Melody happened a decade back or so, but he asked some old timers about it once when he was curious and anyone that actually had an opinion had figured she was nice enough and that the AI faction was too harsh.

Before too long, Nick reached his stop, just outside of Laurel Square. He pressed on the tape that ran along the top of the omnibus to signal a stop, and as the vehicle rattled and clattered to a stop be pressed his palmed emulator to the reader and the back door hissed open.

Stepping out into the moist and misty evening, Nick started down the alley towards the meeting place.

Next

[ratsoh-writes]

friend is in a silly mood and throws a pillow at skeleton, screeching "PILLOW FIGHT!"

what retribution (or lack therof) is this friend facing

anybody ya like. preferably the people most entertaining

-wisteria

Butch: you done f*cked up today. You look up sadly, knowing your life is forfeit as you see butch flying at you with one of the couch cushions. Rest in fkn pieces idiot. May your friends and family miss you cause life sure won’t

Cash: he screams dramatically as the pillow hits him. Cash falls down slowly like in a movie. You hear gunfire somehow. And as he twitches on the floor to play dead, somewhere you hear a tiny violin playing. You know it’s him making the sound, but you’re pretty impressed he managed to jump the noise like that.

Coffee: you slap his paint palate out of his hand with the pillow. It falls to the floor and splatters all over three different canvases. He breathes in deeply- AND YOU BOLT TO THE DOOR RUNNING FOR YOUR LIFE- and you find yourself encased with magic. Coffees eye is glowing, and you’re on the verge of a heart attack

Rancher: “I COULD THROW THE WHOLE DAMN BED AT YOU, YA’ KNOW!” Yea and? You keep smacking him with pillows anyways as he blocks laughing. At some point he does toss a mattress your way though.

Hook: “this is spartaaaaaaa!!!” You started an absolute war on the crew ship. Monsters are yelling, kids are screaming, seashore residents have been invited to join the mighty battle on the navy ship. There is feathers and pillow stuffing flying everywhere. Dallas got duck taped to a chair. Absolute madness

[imperatorrrrr]

get to know me

tagged by @jonassiegenthighler, even tho evil Tumblr did not inform me of such. home of phobic, tbh.

Do you make your bed?

sometimes. like on your average day? nope. but like if I'm gonna have company or if I've decided today is the day I'm putting my life in order or if I'm working from home and need to be on camera, I will make my bed.

Favourite number?

I do not have a reason, but its 16. There's no connection between me and that number, but it is my number.

What's your job?

I'm an attorney. Currently, I practice as an eviction defense attorney, so tenants rights.

If you could go back to school, would you?

If it was free and if I didn't have to do homework or assignments or take tests, then yeah probably, but honestly, having done school, university, and postgrad, I am so so so very over it.

Can you parallel park?

Yep! Fun T Lore Drop Incoming. My father is the one that taught me how to drive and we found this like dead end street that no one ever really used and my father bought his own traffic cones with him and set them up and we spent hours every night for weeks just getting parallel parking down.

Do you think aliens are real?

For sure. I fucking hope so.

Can you drive a manual car?

Nah...I like watching people drive a manual car though. I think its super hot, ahahaha.

Guilty pleasure?

Erm? Oh! There are a few songs by artists that have since been revealed to be pieces of shit that I still really like, but I try not to listen to them on main or in any way those artists would benefit.

Tattoos?

I have six so far: a lightning bolt for the time I spent in Scotland, an elephant for being Desi, one in Gallifreyan, one from Mad Max: Fury Road, a guillotine, and a Desi mermaid.

I have at least four more planned, at least.

Favourite color?

Purple.

Favorite type of music?

Honestly, it depends on my mood, but I don't think I have one type that like is preferred over others. Sometimes I wanna be emo, sometimes I wanna listen to rap, sometimes I want some girlypop, and then I need Punjabi beats, like you can't pin me down, baby!

Do you like puzzles?

Yah!

Any phobias?

I am afraid of snakes and drowning.

Favorite childhood sport?

Okay this is going to be such an American answer, but besides kickball, the one sport I loved to play was hockey on the scooters?

So you'd sit on these things right and then you'd play hockey on them and those were always my favorite days in gym class.

Do you talk to yourself?

For fucking sure. Its so much fun.

Tea or coffee?

Okay, if I want coffee, I want iced coffee and I need it from like the bodega or the cart because no one else gets my sugar to coffee to milk ratio right. I do not need a fancy cafe, gimme a corner iced coffee any day.

But I'm a chai girl all day everyday. I would have chai like three times a day most of the time. Its been cut down now to when I have time to do the whole making myself chai process. I'll make my own chai hot, but if I want an iced chai, I will splurge on a fancy cafe.

I'm also big into matcha.

And obviously bubble tea.

First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

I think there's historical data (my kindergarten yearbook) which states that I said I wanted to be a doctor, but I think that was just me at five years old giving the answer my parents wanted.

But my real answer is I wanted to be a judge. This was solely because of the OJ Simpson trial which I watched as it was broadcast on television. The plan was always to go to law school to eventually become a judge, it just evolved as I did.

What movies do you adore?

The Oceans Trilogy + Oceans Eight, Robin Williams Movies (Flubber, Jumnanji, Mrs. Doubtfire), Mad Max: Fury Road, Mighty Ducks Trilogy, Heavyweights, the Clue movie, Hasee Toh Phasee, Lord of the Rings Extended Trilogy, The Mummy...I'm sure there's more.

I shall tag my ERod lovers @forgottenflowers and @offside-the-lines and my fellow NicoJack braincell sharers @alpineshift and @solip1386 and @jonasiegenthaler and my new friend @whatthe-puck

[sp4nkz-and-cuddl3z]

You know what really grinds my gears?

People who hate others just because of their sex, gender, skin color, heritage, religion or some other superficial bullshit like that.

Let me tell you, I don't give a duck what's in your pants, or isn't, or if you prefer a skirt, or nothing at all, or what you'd want in said place, or what you'd like your partner to have there. I have my preferences, as many people do, but I don't expect everyone visiting this corner of the Internet to fit those. But some people expect that. And that's okay. Your blog, your rules, and my blog, my rules.

But what I don't get, is, when someone proclaimed said preference in an expression, that clearly exceeds the usual DNI, excludes, among roughly half of the worlds population, me, but interacts with my blog anyway. When not even you respect your own "more than DNI", why, oh mighty double standard, should others?

While we're at said expression, I can just highly recommend to do a double check. There's a simple trick. Just switch the roles. Write it down. Read it out loud. Seems inappropriate now? If you think just one of those expressions is wrong, you're part of the problem, not of the solution.

One could assume that we as a humankind already came to the conclusion that prejudices aren't a nice thing. One is sadly wrong.

[r44d]

(updated) ABOUT ME!!

: hello 👋 !! i use she / her pronouns , and im a yapper. my birthday is december 26 (capricorn). i am ���🇸🇵🇹 (american + portuguese) and im in the EST time zone.

- socials are :

tiktok / instagram : fultreed

ao3 : fultonreed

- what do i post? — the mighty ducks, ive been a big fan of the movies for the past 2-3 years and im super fixated on them. :D

- my favorite characters are: dean portman, fulton reed, julie gaffney, connie moreau

- ships : mostly dean/fulton (bashslash), but also charlie/fulton (chulton), julie/connie (jonnie), fulton/adam (banksreed), and a few others. im mainly a rarepair shipper so im not all that big on banksway/chadam but i do think its a good ship :] and i do generally like the pairing.

- other interests of mine : hockey, daria, beavis and butthead, and house md. I’m getting into : 92sies (newsies 1992), daredevil, the sandlot, stand by me, and 9-1-1. (i also like challengers !)

- i am fine with really any fandom interacting with my content, however i am a strictly mighty ducks oriented blog so please don’t expect much from this (i would prefer that you interact if you like the fandoms i listed above but I am not that strict with it!!)

- asks are open so ask me anything!! (please i need to yap about these silly little movies). and dms are open for headcanon discussions :).

- i am really bad at actually posting things that aren’t reblogs and i have a pretty bad posting schedule (as i tend to forget i have multiple blogs 😭) so don’t expect a lot of content from me.

- my sideblog is : @portman21 (you can follow if you want, it’s mostly going to be me yapping about dean portman. updates once a month probably)

that’s all for now!!

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒚!

note: originally i wasn’t gonna do this but now i am!! also read the rules before sending something in pls

rules: for the love of GOD, please send one request per ask if you don’t i’m not gonna respond this has happened so many times, and only send 1 of each celly at a time, so like no duplicates of the same celly (does this make sense) until i’ve answered the first

fandoms: classic horror characters, monster high, full house, powerpuff girls, kotlc, rrverse, grishaverse, phantom of the opera, ride the cyclone, the outsiders, school for good and evil, the mighty ducks

navigation

PICK ONE OF THE SILLY BILLYS FAVOURITE ARTISTS!

DAVID BOWIE — make me a mb of how you see me and i’ll make one for how i see you!

TINA TURNER — tumblr games! cym, kmk, wyr, etc.

THE ROLLING STONES — tell me what u would get me for my birthday and i’ll tell u what i’d get u for urs!

THE BEATLES — matchups! give me a brief description of your personality (looks are optional), a fandom and gender preference!

THE RONETTES — talk to me! js talk about anything you want!

[cupids-diner]

Blog Introduction!!

Me!

You can call me Star or Leni, whatever you’d prefer!

My pronouns are she/her

I mainly write female and Gn! Reader

You can request anything, although I do have my limits

No’s

Any Non-consensual, Homophobic, or Racist requests

No incest or age gaps

Okay

Character death

Platonic pairing

Fluff, angst, smut (possibly), generally anything

Characters I write for

Damian Wayne

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Tim drake

Jon Kent

Connor Kent

Bill denbrough

Beverly marsh

Eddie kasbrak

Richie tozier

Stanley Uris

Mike Hanlon

Ben Hanscom

Ashlyn banner

Aiden Clark

Ben Clark

Logan fields

Taylor Hernandez

Tyler Hernandez

Benny weir

Ethan Morgan

Rory keaner

Sarah fox

Erica jones

All the mighty ducks

Mainly anyone, just request it!!