#they tickle my ideas' factory

[0perfectimperfections0]

What if Lou accidentally came to Uglyville before the uglydolls came to the Institute of Perfection?

Not sure exactly when you sent me this, but @subwhizz has a comic/graphic novel that they are working on called "Lou in Wonderland AU" and it is exactly what you're asking.

HOWEVER, I'm never gonna pass an opportunity to write out some ideas that sprung into my head. I do suggest reading the "Lou in Wonderland" story though. Sub is an amazing artist and an even better storyteller!

-------

The machines weren't perfect themselves by any means. Come to think of it, it would be pointless for Lou to even exist if the machines didn't intentionally create flawed dolls to a certain extent. But when Nolan popped into the Institute, Lou realized maybe the humans had let the factory go. There hadn't been that bad of a mess up since...

Lou shook the memories away, focusing on the never-ending tunnel in front of him as he walked. The flashlight flickered and the bulb made a static noise as it tried to warn Lou that the batteries were dying. He ignored it. Besides, the pipes only led to Perfection, so realistically he could just turn around and get back home easily.

It flickered again and Lou slammed the heel of his hand against it. "Stupid light..." He looked up, coming to a halt. "What in the world...?" The hole that normally led to the incinerator was blocked up with splintered wood and poorly driven in nails. No wonder he had mistakes like Nolan ending up in Perfection...

But that didn't entirely make sense either. The machines would realistically pop out a faulty doll out of every 100 or so made. He'd checked the math himself. That's what made Ox such a spectacle was that it was the first doll in years since the company started that hadn't been sorted correctly. But Nolan would still be recognized as a Pretty Doll. Despite his...differences, Nolan didn't have enough faults to him for the machine to deem him as a mistake.

So, if Lou hadn't seen any other faulty dolls...and the incinerator was blocked up...then where were mistakes going?

Lou blinked as the flashlight flickered one last time before dying unceremoniously. He sighed. This was a mystery for another day. Or whenever he could manage to steal the batteries from one of the robots again.

"Good thing the pipes all lead to--OHMYDOLL!" Lou screamed and felt his heart practically leap into his throat as he freefell into...well, it had looked like darkness before but now this was just liquid darkness he was slipping through. He desperately tried to reach his arms out in hope to grab onto something, but it felt like more pipe. But why was it going down!?

He screamed the whole way down, opting in closing his eyes despite not being able to see anything regardless, and praying that death would meet him quickly.

Light soon blinded him and he hardly had time to adjust his eyes before his whole body ached from crashing onto something hard. Luckily he landed on his back.

He groaned, eyes squinting in pain and still blinded by how much light there suddenly was. Some of it was blocked out suddenly by a weird, red figure. A wing-like appendage moved across his vision a few times and then he realized there was a voice connected to it.

Lou grimaced from the pain all through his back and head. "Please tell me I'm dead..."

The head of the figure tilted curiously. "I...w-well no...um...w-would you like to be?"

Lou put a heavy hand to his forehead. "Kind of. Are you gonna kill me?"

"No, but I do offer therapy sessions."

Who or whatever this voice belonged to had a lot more personality than the mindless dolls he trained on the daily. It didn't sound like such manufactured dialogue.

Something poked his side and Lou coughed as pain and a tickling sensation bubbled through him. "We have tons of food here too. You're awfully scrawny."

Lou waved the...it felt like an actual wing. What the heck. He opened his eyes blearily and finally got them to focus on...

A...bat? A red bat.

Lou scrambled back quickly. "What in the world are you?"

The bat looked surprised and a little put off by the reaction, but he spoke calmly. "My name is LuckyBat and I'm an UglyDoll, just like you!" He smiled with sharp fangs poking out of his lips.

"Excuse me?" Lou narrowed his eyes at the creature.

"Welcome to Uglyville! We never got an announcement of a new arrival. Did you get here through the flower?" LuckyBat paced a few circles around Lou, inspecting every inch of him.

Lou would lean a little ways opposite of wherever Lucky was as he revolved. "Flower?" The bat simply gestured upward. Lou followed up to the weird sunflower-looking thing jutting out of the cliff. "Yeah, I came out of that I think." Lou shook his head. "Where did you say this was?"

"Uglyville," Lucky straightened with a smile.

"Right..." Lou winced and forced himself to stand up. He rubbed the back of his head.

"I think this belongs to you. It fell out of the flower too." Lou squinted down. Lucky held up a dented flashlight to him.

Lou took it, already knowing it really wouldn't work anymore despite getting new batteries. "Thanks...What's your name again?"

"Luckybat." Boy, this newcomer sure had a bad memory.

"Why are you called that?"

"I'm usually very lucky. Lucky to have great friends, a great home, to be alive--"

Lou snorted. If this creature was here only because the incinerator was blocked, then yeah, he was lucky to be alive.

"What's so funny?" Lucky looked genuinely interested.

Lou shook his head quickly, going back to tinkering with the flashlight. "Nothing. I have another question."

"You're full of those, huh?" Lucky smiled.

The blond rolled his eyes. "Yeah. How do I get back up into the pi--flower?"

Lucky tilted his head. "You...want to leave?"

"Yes, very much so."

The bat seemed nervous now for some reason. "W-Well, I'm not so sure, but...I think I know someone who could help! She talks a lot about the flower and going through it. I'm sure she's got a million different ways to get up there!" Lucky bounded off ahead of Lou, not bothering to see if he was following.

Lou sighed, looking at the flashlight in his hand once before tossing it behind him and following the bat toward wherever.

The flashlight flickered back on behind them.

-----

I'll probably leave this right here for now and if you want a continuation I'll make the next parts longer.

Spoiler, I think I plan on continuing it anyway, but STILL.

It's also currently 1:40 in the morning where I am and I need to go to bed...

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

Stop Laughing

Hello gigglers!

This can be read as a part 2 to my previous Wonka fic but can also stand on it's own. I hope you like it!

Fandom: Wonka

Characters: Noodle, Wonka

Warning: Tickle Fic

Summary: Noodle can't concentrate on her homework with Willy in such a silly mood, so she decides to take matters into her own hands.

It was a bright Monday afternoon, and Wonka was sitting against one of the chocolate trees in his factory reading a book. Noodle's mother was busy that afternoon, so he had his younger friend sitting on the opposite side of the tree, deeply concentrating on the math homework on her knee.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Wonka let out a goofy laugh. Noodle turned around, and saw that he was being heavily amused by the page he was reading. Noodle felt a bit guilty telling him to be quiet, because she was his guest and he didn't want to interrupt the hardworking young man from his clear delight, but, on the other hand, she couldn't work unless there was complete silence.

"Willy?"

"Hmmm?"

"Could you please quiet down a bit?"

"Mmm? Oh, sure".

A few more minutes passed, and Noodle was getting stumped by a particular equation. Than she heard a triumphant "aha!" from the other side of the tree. Noodle suspected that Willy's overenthusiasm for his books was just making up for all of those years that he couldn't read.

"Willy", she gently reminded him.

"Oh, sorry", Wonka responded, with not an inch of apology in his voice, followed by a short chuckle. Indeed, it was only a few moments later that the wavy-haired boy erupted into a trail of light chuckles. Noodle thumped her textbook against the grass in frustration, but when she turned around and saw the look on Willy's face, she knew she couldn't be too annoyed.

"Willyyyy", she whined, scooting beside him, "I can't concentrate Willy".

Wonka kept laughing, "I'm haha sohorry Noodle, it's just haha this is so fuhuhunny!" Noodle watched the chocolate maker face plant and role on to his side, collapsing in a puddle of giggles. Noodle raised an eyebrow, trying to look firm despite feeling Wonka's mood creeping up on her - "Have you got the sillies?"

"Yehehes!", he responded, nodding rapidly as he lay defeated on his side.

Noodle, having no idea what to do, let her eyes dart back and fourth as if the factory itself would give her a solution to this strange occurrence. Eying the top of a far off chocolate tree, she remembered how Wonka had refused to come down from up there a few days ago after their play flight, and grinned as a nice (and cheeky) idea dawned on her.

"Wonka, can you stop laughing please?" she asked innocently, leaning over a bit so that Wonka could see her playful facial expression. Hearing this request and seeing Noodle's face only made him laugh harder, just as Noodle had excepted it would.

"Hey! Your'e not listening to me! I said stop laughing", she said smugly, before launching her hands into his sides and wiggling and squeezing with all 10 of her fingers. This unexpected action made Wonka double over, his laughter pausing for a second before it resumed louder and more uncontrolled than before, alternating rapidly between high and low pitches as he tossed from side to side and kicked his legs.

"NO! Noohoodle! Hahaha! Stop it! Hahaha!"

Noodle just laughed, moving her hands to scribble at his belly.

"No! Noohoodle! Nohohot there! Noohooohoodle!"

Noodle grinned brightly at how cute Wonka was being, feeling her heart melt a bit.

"Wonka, why are you still laughing? Iv'e told you twice to stop now", she teased, trying to look as serious as she could through the cheeky twinkle in her eye, continuing to scuttle her fingers on his stomach.

"Ohoho yohohohohou!", Wonka laughed, his eyes locking on hers 'threateningly' as he tried to escape the tickles without hurting his best friend. Noodle wasn't pinning him down properly, but it seemed that everywhere he tossed those little fingers still followed him. Still, if he really tried, he could have easily maneuvered himself out of his clutches. Noodle knew this of course, and made sure it stayed that way, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

"Plehehehehease!", he begged, still tossing, "juhuhust a quihihick breheak!"

Noodle rolled her eyes and smiled, halting her fingers to let Wonka catch his breath.

"Wow, I guess you finally stopped laughing", she remarked cheerfully.

"Oh quack off you son of a wackadoodle", he responded, diverting his eye's from Noodle's to appear frustrated. Noodle, of course, wasn't buying it.

"Well", he muttered after a while, still not looking at her, "at least you didn't try under my arms".

Noodle's jaw dropped. Was he asking for her to keep tickling him? It sure did seem like it.

"What was that?" she teased.

Wonka's face went dark red- "H-huh?"

Noodle grinned, "what did you say Willy?"

Wonka gulped, "N-nothing?"

"Oh, you definately said something. Something about your'e underarms?" she prodded, quickly slipping her hands under his arms and gently wiggling her fingers. Wonka immediately squealed, his laughter growing ten times louder and desperate as Noolde picked up the pace of her fingers.

"NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!"

Wonka was squirming more violently now, Noodle having to hold him still as not to get hurt.

"Oh come on Willy, don't pretend like you didn't ask for this", she said, continuing her onslaught. Wonka had nothing to reply to that, his cheeks just went dark pink as he melted into hysterics.

"AHAHA IT TIHIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHD!"

"Well obviously", Noodle taunted.

Wonka just kept laughing and squirming, lost for words, only consumed by pure joy.

This lasted a few more moments, before Noodle. seeing that Willy's face was turning a bit purple, decided to stop.

This time, as soon as Wonka was let free, he sat up, heavily panting and coughing a bit, after-giggles still slipping from his lips. After he had recovered, he just smiled at her, "Well, that sure is one way to get rid of the sillies".

Noodle just nodded.

"Very smart kid, I'm impressed", Wonka continued, before standing up.

"H-hey", she chuckled, following him, "whehere are you going?"

"Just to the water fountain", he responded, "you should probably go get your'e homework done before your'e mom comes to get you".

"Oh, yeah", Noolde said sheepishly, "Gotta admit, I almost forgot about that".

[missamyrisa2]

So recently I thought of an idea thst you surely would love!~ Imagine if you could get a shirt, panties, socks or any other article of clothing to have "memory cloth"!~

So you could scratch the underarms portion of the t shirt, run a feather along the panties or scrub a hair brush on the socks and give them to someone, who once they put them on immediately or gradually starts feeling the sensation ~ so whatcha think about this one?~

Ooooh my gosssh~ I loooove little ideas like this that could just be used in soooo many scenarios and stories~ mmh programmable clothesss~ I love itttt~!!

Especially because obviously I have had wayyyy too many thoughts about tickle outfits and of courseee I have thought about outfits with a mild amount of either sentience or remote ability from a tickler, like vibes hidden in the fabrics or just ruffling trembling materials set off against ticklish skin~

but oooh yesss I adore the thought, the idea of having like an inventory of clothing ~ tops and bottoms and underwear and socks that have been primed with tickles. Maybe a wicked collector making such things, a top holding a circle of tickles to apply to a bellyyyy~ bottoms with squeezies at the thighs ~ socks with under toe tickles just waiiiiting for the opportune moment. And of course undies with taunting silky tickles for the royal areas~ They'd be like a villain capturing people and dressing them up for tickly makeovers~<3

Maybeee a whole workshop factory of such tickle outfits being manufactured ~ oooh and you the new intern are tasked with the product testing floor~ a full shift with the relentless wicked dress up machine which keeps putting new programmed clothing on you to measure the results as you are made to do everyday tasks, sitting down at a desk just waiiiting for the memory cloth to activate and start wrecking your ribs with kiss sensations and bellybutton with pokes~ all the while the research team is asking questions and taking notesss~ better hope you don't perform toooo well and end up at the evening test sessions for intimates ~<3

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

A Surefly Way

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 716

Summary: watching an old film of Dieter’s has unexpected results (the fake film part was based on a dream)

Warnings: minor historical inaccuracies, a child cries but it’s all happy adorable fluffy goodness at the end, Dieter being Dieter

Check out masterlist here

“This corn?” Clara asked holding a can out to you.

“Yes, that’s corn.��

“Corn yummy!”

You and Clara had just returned from some errands. She enjoyed helping unpack groceries and you explained the contents as she passed them to you. Having finished with that task, you turned on the TV and left Clara in the living room to play and you set about making dinner.

“Look! Daddy!” Clara pointed excitedly at the TV.

There on the screen was your husband looking rather dapper in a pinstripe suit. You bundled that image away for later use.

“It’s a daddy story,” that was what you ended up calling films featuring your husband.

This particular one was before the two of you met. Surefly Way was set during the Second World War and supposedly about two chocolate factories. The history was dubious at best but at the heart of it was a love story so the inaccuracies could be forgiven.

Clara enjoyed watching any films with her father but never watched many of them as he hated watching himself on screen. This one was age appropriate, so you left her to it. You heard occasional dialogue and made a guess to the plot.

Miss Winslow, daughter of Mr. Winslow, owner of Winslow Chocolates is pretending to be an ordinary factory worker making ration bars for frontline troops. Unknowingly, her American fiancée, Mr. Surefly of Surefly Chocolates, arrives to help in the making of the chocolate. Having no idea what his future intended looks like, he ends up falling in love with her and she in return.

~

“Mr. Surefly is here in England? Shouldn’t he be back home in America?”

“He feels that he’d do better for the troops here. Isn’t this a good chance to meet your fiancé?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Dotty, why?”

“Because I want to fall in love. Not be sold off and shipped off to the highest bidder!”

~

“Americans? What do Americans know about chocolate?”

“Their stuff only tastes slightly better than a boiled potato.”

~

“So Mr. Surefly, is there a sweetheart waiting for you back home?”

“I do have a fiancée, but I’ve yet to meet her.”

“How have you not met the woman you’re going to marry?”

“Let’s say it’s more of a business exchange rather than an act of love.”

~

“You were pretending this whole time? Why?”

“How can I sit here doing nothing while everyone else is off fighting the war? Even the royal family are going their part.”

~

You heard the sounds of the front door as Dieter arrived back home. Clara seemed too intrigued with on-screen father to notice her actual father, so he made his way over to you.

“Clara is watching one of your films.”

“It better not be Cliff Beasts.”

“No, it’s Surefly Way,” confusion crossed his face. “World War Two? Two chocolate factories?”

He vaguely remembered filming something in that time period, so he wandered over to watch it with his daughter.

As he got closer, he saw that Clara was in tears.

“What’s wrong cupcake?”

“Daddy kiss lady,” she pointed at the screen.

It took a minute for Dieter to remember back to who was in the film with him, mainly his on-screen romantic partner. “Yes, I did kiss that lady.”

“Not mummy,” more tears ran down her cheeks and it took less than a minute for Dieter to decipher the toddler code.

“Oh, cupcake,” he pulled her close. “That was mummy I was kissing. She swapped out with that lady.”

You had just walked into the room, so Dieter turned to you.

“That was you I was kissing, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “They always swap me out if there’s kissing.”

Clara wiped her face, “You love mummy?”

“Yes, I love mummy so much and she’s the only lady I kiss. But you get kisses too because you’re my sweet baby girl.”

He kissed her cheek, his beard tickling her turning her sobs into giggles.

Later on, she went to bed happy knowing that her parents still loved each other, sometimes a bit too much.

“Nice save.”

“I learned from the best,” he kissed your cheek.

“So when is she going to learn the truth about it?”

“Oh, when she’s older. Like, fifty.”

“We’ll definitely be dead by then.”

“Well then, she’ll never know.”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic @glshmbl @cupcakehp @wannab-urs

[fizziefactory]

How did you think up each of your concept for your Robo Fizz OCs? Like go in-depth about the choices you made, why you chose their names and such. I want details.

Questions about the fizzies || Accpeting

Oh that's a juicy one… and lengthy too, let's see where we can start. This got so fucking long holy shit pick your fav section idk I'm so rambly-

The very first muse I made was Factory Fizzy, or FF-8842. I can say right away that their factory name, which is the only name they go by, doesn't actually mean anything! I just think it's cute, I really love the number 8. In hindsight, 42 I can make the argument being a subconscious nod to “A hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy”, a book series I loved when I was a teen. 42 is the meaning of life, and FF-8842 is struggling to find the meaning of their life.

But most of all, Four-Two, or Fou-Too, just sounds cute.

They were originally made for a comic that I wanted to draw for the song The Fine Print by The Stupendium, sometimes I just get brainworms when I fixate, and I end up drawing lengthy comics to songs I like. I needed a fizzy to work in the Fizzy Factory for the song, so I made a fizzy with a simple design, clothes with no dyes, “horns” without fabric on them, basically a fizzy that didn't need to catch anyone's eye, nor drain resources and money. This is also why while they're quite strong, they're only 4’1”.

Now I play a lot on the idea of a fizzy that was created with a strong sense of self, of sentience, as soon as they were created. Usually it takes my fizzies a few years to reach sentience, if they ever do… but FF-8842 is a “defect” always at the verge of being scrapped for being too much of a free-thinker. This definitely evolved from the original comic, where they clearly do not possess the same distant look in their eyes as the other fizzies.

The second fizzy I made was The Manager. His name was originally just Office Fizzy, which I later weaved into his backstory instead. I actually asked my friends how I should refer to him, and they liked the simplicity of The Manager, and I think while it might be a little bit of a mouthful, it's oozes just what kind of person he is.

He is the Manager. He makes sure this clock is turned up and ticking.

For the comic, he was originally more of a guide for new fizzies, and of course the one doing the singing/talking in the comic, and if you want a good idea of what his inspiration was, look no further than the song itself. It's all there. Eventually Manager evolved into something different. He became, well, less someone handling the papers in an office, and more of an actual… manager, of the factory.

The idea to make it all Entirely fizzy-made tickled me, and so I tweaked his story a little bit, having him climb from an “Office Fizzy”, to being where he is now, so successful he even managed to alter his own design, which no fizzy of his model has done before… he even owns his own fizzies. Has businesses outside the factory (not to Mammon's knowledge but yknow-) making big cash and giving into greed because of the influence from Mammon, by simply being made in his image, and giving into it. A success story for the ages. He is a control-freak at this point though, to make sure he doesn't lose it all.

I also gave him an Australian accent because he's spending way too much time around Mammon. That's just a fun fact ♡ Also all the green and gold in his clothes also point to how closely he works with Mammon.

Mortis had his name change many times. He went from simply Undertaker, and I considered Morty Briefly… but decided against it real quick. I went with Mort for a while… but I just loved the way Mortis sounded. I know it's wormed into my brain because of Faith (don't ask me about the plot of that game I don't Know) but Mortis just felt Right. Mortis is the Latin noun for Death.

Mortis also came from The Fine Print. There's a section of the song that goes like this;

“If you'd rather drop dead, that's fine

But you know that dropping down dead bears a fine

So you do your job and I'll do mine

I gotta meet a six-foot deep bottom line”

And I don't know, it just fired off my creative juices like… what if there was an undertaker fizzy? That'd be so cool… and so out there xhdbbd. I have always had a complicated relationship with death, so I enjoy writing morticians because of their various different ways to approach the subject. Mortis started off approaching it quite casually… It's hell after all, but the more I wrote him?

I got to put myself in his head and how he was thinking, his life-philosophy, how me having placed him in Wrath affected his outlook, and now he's become almost philosophical, now he's holding sermons in Satan's name and I believe he puts his own beliefs into them… and despite having such a sad job, and how he has to face such misery and grief every day… It's somehow helped him become the most at peace fizzy I've got. Because he understands life and death better than any other fizzy, while also getting to be on his own and expressing and exploring himself best a fizzy can.

He is heavily inspired by the Undertaker in The Backwater Gospel, who is quiet and non-threatening, but his mere presence is enough to send you into a panic.

Why is he here?

Who’s going to die?

He's also heavily inspired by the YouTube channel Little Bubby Child since he's from Wrath and all. I will meme on him til the day I die.

Mizzy got her name from Maid Fizzy, you smoosh the names together you get Mizzy. For a while I also had Dolly as a suggestion, but it didn't really stick with my followers. So it's kinda become a nickname certain fizzies who knew her before the memory-wipe call her, like Thizzy and The Manager.

Mizzy was always meant to be a companion bot, I wanted a fizzy that actually did what the commercial advertised the fizzies to do. I made her a maid because I wanted to play around with her owner being a weeb, and I simply wanted to dress her up in cute little outfits that I knew a guy with his own companion bot would want to see. In time the idea of her once having belonged to Burnie Burnz, Fizzarolli's stalker, wormed itself into my brain… and the misery tripled from there.

I think it was because I wrote out a scene with a friend where I played him briefly before he got eaten by a sandworm (shoutout Beetlejuice the OG), and I recalled his line regarding the fizzies not getting him off right. I wondered what kind of shit a disgusting guy like him would even do to a fizzy if he planned on murdering Fizzarolli, so I, unfortunately, made Mizzy his fizzybot. The only solution was the memory wipe… and that's why she's so head empty most of the time. Her programming is protecting her from remnants at all times.

I really wanted to show how messed up the companion bot situation is with Mizzy, which is why she's been used sparingly. I love a good healing story though, so I've tried to bring her in more where she gets to regain her power and independence and tweaked her current owner to be a little less awful to give her a break… but still awful nonetheless. She's always ripe for fizzy-adoption.

Ginger has changed so much from the original concept. At first she was named Fuzzy, for a fussy fizzy. Then later when I switched up his design, opting for the red design in the commercial I thought looked neat as hell, I decided to go with Ginger instead. It just sounded right, all things considered.

Ginger started out as Fuzzy, who was heavily inspired by Sun from FNAF to be perfectly honest. I have 3 Sun OCs very near and dear to my heart, and I love writing anxious nervous wrecks… so that's what I did for a while. Eventually I leaned into him snapping more and more, running out of patience like Brandon Roger's Mom character, and as I wrote them in IC group chats, I realised more and more that Fuzzy was actually rarely if ever anxious… they were mostly stressed and Irritated.

And I was never happy with the original design… it was cute but didn't spark joy, it felt hasty. I spotted the design in the commercial I liked the most, and I remade everything.

Now Ginger is Something Else Entirely.

She's tired, he's pissed, he's at his wits end, and they're Dangerous if you look at them wrong. They became a Mama Bear, while also something of a Big Sister character… grumpy and with a resting bitch face… but a heart of gold below the surface.

I wanted to explore the fizzy for the kids and teens, the meaningless chores that fizzies have to perform for demons like carrying bags and making dinner and other kinds of butler-stuff, and just how straining tiring and meaningless it all felt, all while Also being a companion for the adults.. Despite Mizzy, Ginger has turned into the fizzy that's the absolute most disappointed with their lot in life, and hates Fizzarolli just about as much as Pinwheel. This is also why they are siblings in the human AU, they've got much in common.

Thizzy is simple. Therapist+Fizzy=Thizzy. Briefly he was called Shrinky, but I left it instead as a nickname he got from Doc, which he absolutely despises, because I could Not take it seriously.

Thizzy was taken from the commercial, I interpreted his neutral face as one of absolute indifference, and I figured this is Hell and this is Mammon so… originally he was meant to not give a rat’s ass about anybody, especially not his patients. However while writing my muse page for this blog, I had him write out short “profiles” for the other fizzies… and I thought Hey… what if he checked up on the fizzies too?

Now he's part of a larger process that The Manager runs where he checks up on the fizzies on the regular to make sure they're doing fine physically but also mentally (at least well enough to perform their tasks), and in time I found that Thizzy actually did care…

He cared too much, which is why he tried to not care at all. Because the alternative was to let it all get to you… Despite not wanting to get involved, it's in his programming to do so, and he's got a good heart, albeit only metaphorically.

Now he's just so tired... and working in the Sloth Ring doesn't help this.

His relationship with Doc is the result of when he was still in his early years and just performed his tasks as he was programmed to do… and now he's stuck in this unhealthy toxic relationship where he has to make sure Doc is happy all the damn time. Luckily for him, he mostly is. At least as a robot-

Finally, Doc! Doc is easy enough, he's Doc because he's a doctor! I did consider Doccy but it reminded me of. Another word, so I backtracked bxhrhe. I worried it'd be too generic but… it just fits. He's Doc. Nothing else fits like Doc does ♡

I just stared at the screen when Doctor Fizzy came on. Those colours. That Forced Grin, those soft little cheeks… that blank fucking stare. This was an unhinged doctor-character and I needed him in my life. My cringe, emo, deviantart-browsing, gore-loving, Higurashi-watching, Hatoful Boyfriend-playing, problematic teenage-self... they needed this.

He hasn't actually changed much at all. He was always inspired by those crazy doctors you see in anime, games and horror movies. Their silly giggles and the over the top surgeries and bone saws and all that stuff.. he's my horror and gore-character, for when I want to write a bit of this and that, which I do find a lot of fun.

I don't know what really made him as flamboyant as he is… I think just the nature of him being a crazy doctor character while also being a sex bot… and when I discovered the Bubblegum Coquette aesthetic- and in time I developed his relationship with Thizzy. His clinginess opened up the idea of how he's probably not got a lot of connections because of how “intense” he is, and while he's not quite as sentient as the rest… he's getting there, every time he reflects on how lonely he is.

His only way to connect with others was by keeping body parts of whomever he operated on, that was All he was ever able to get his hands on fair and square(?).. and he started getting unhealthily attached to those parts. Now he actively seeks them out because it's the only form of love and attachment he understands so far, and if he gets attached to people to a strong degree, there's a chance it turns into love/obsession, which will push him further into sentience, and so on now we have a yandere too.

Cringe.

But at least I'm free.

He's the perfect example of when a robot is Not taught how humans and emotions actually work, and now he's already registered what he knows as truths and facts.

Imma not cover Imposter too much cus really I just got inspired by that That's not my neighbour-song before I even knew there was a game, and I wanted to make a strong fizzy for quite some time, that could work as Manager's bodyguard to make him pose more of a threat than he did on his own. I loved the black and white aesthetic because of absolute neutrality, and my fiance mentioned that it looked like a pierrot and I was like Hell yeah accidental pierrot let's go-

They obviously has a bit of Ennard from FNAF in them, or the Mimic or whatever that new enemy is called... I think it's a pretty natural robot-plot device at this point. It is a fun bot to play in group chats where I can pretend to be my other muses and wait and see how long it takes my fellow muns to realise there's a question mark at the end of the tupper bot's username. It communicates through motions and clicks, sign language, when it isn't disguised, and is very mischievous and a troublemaker.. I dunno, the inspiration is "gremlin".

[bright-tatters]

Tatters #23

Fortune led Piper through Central’s glittering streets and across the arching bridge toward the faintly green clouds in Tatters. He stopped at a small apartment building and let himself in to a small, sparsely furnished unit lined by deep cabinets. He chose one and pulled out two gas masks.

“Here,” he said, handing one to Piper.

Piper still didn’t know how to feel about him. The physical draw was irresistible, but…he was an idiot who thought he could buy anything. Who played games, and told trivia, and found beautiful things, and held poetry next to his heart. He was an idiot who thought he could buy anything, even Piper’s integrity.

He didn’t try to defend himself. They hurried through the streets to the smoking warehouse where the explosion had taken place.

Piper saw the first bodies before they even reached the door.

“Children,” said Piper, feeling sick.

“It should have been somewhere else,” Fortune said, apparently seriously.

“Do you just want to transfer this death one Ward over?” said Piper.

Fortune looked more slumped than usual. “People care about other Wards. I wouldn’t have to worry.”

The miasma crept and ruined a sense of distance. Piper felt the door—cool—and opened it to reveal the manufactory floor.

Gleaze involved a lot of liquids and a lot of pressure cooking. Huge vats studded the floor, with complicated piping running between them. Two of those vats were now slanting over the scarred floor. Colors melded in sickening ribbons and puddles. The smell was indescribable. The heat was from a fire at the far corner, just under the ruptured ceiling.

“That wasn’t supposed to be there,” said Fortune, pointing.

The blast radius was maybe six feet. The shattered remains of a casing lay in the center of the scorched circle.  And two narrow pipes lay broken across.

“Is that all?” murmured Fortune. “Two lines?”

“Hence the explosions from the vats. Things can get very serious from very small stimuli,” murmured Piper.

“People died for this,” said Fortune. His gas mask covered his mouth and nose but his eyes, pale blue, were narrowed in apparent pain. This was supposed to be his great project. And it was a terrible project, one that ruined lives, but Piper had no doubt that the bodies outside had affected him. And he missed Fortune, even after mere days, missed the weird security of his requirement for control.

Fuck that.

“Come here,” said Piper. Fortune cocked his head and stepped in.

Piper took a deep breath and removed his mask. He kissed Fortune’s forehead, as gently as he knew how.

Fortune slipped off his mask and kissed Piper, a simple, elemental operation. For a moment it was only them getting dizzy and dizzier, warm, skin against skin, defying the reality of their surroundings, darkening with a chest pain that just got worse and worse.

Piper seized Fortune’s mask and pressed it back to his face. Fortune did the same with Piper’s. They stood, panting, wondering why that had happened and why it felt so right.

Piper whistled low. “We're walking through an apocalypse and I still want you.”

“People who want me want something from me.”

“I do. You have no idea how much.”

Fortune eyed him askance. “I have some idea. It’s not wholly unreciprocated.”

The understatement tickled. “Be still, my heart.”

“We need to secure the remaining ingredients. I have to know people will be safe coming back.”

“You could get experts to do this.”

Fortune slowed and stopped. When he spoke it was to Piper’s knees. “This factory was my doing,” he said slowly. “I have always suppressed the trade in Tatters; I wanted to let outsiders do all the buying and dying. I always meant to move production to another Ward. I always meant to take my profits and get out. And one angry person destroyed that. Everything I worked for, and the wellbeing of Tatterdemalion. I must do something. Tatterdemalion must know that I won’t sacrifice them to the drug trade. Not after everything I did to waterproof the supply pipelines out of here.”

“You are the strangest mix,” Piper said quietly.

Fortune’s gaze flicked up to meet Piper’s. “I am perfectly consistent. I just work from first principles you can’t accept. I…should not have kissed you.”

“The first time?”

Fortune circled Piper’s face with his eyes, then turned away. “The prime ingredient storage was through that door.”

Did they save any more lives indoors? No. Did they secure some flammable nerve agents? Yes. Fortune worked his way down the line of destruction outside, helping some stranded people move, once stopping to fit his mask to a child who was having some kind of breathing seizure. He just held his breath until the boy got his.

Would he just sacrifice Docks in favor of Tatters? Almost certainly. He would have been happy to finish mixing this poison to sell. And then he knelt to help an invalid to their feet and he was the soul of compassion.

Piper didn’t have a good reason, nor a defensible one. Fortune looked at him and cared, so damn much, and he faced his helplessness and fought it. That came down to a choice.

What first principles governed someone with such a capacity for brutality? Was Fortune correct, that Piper could never understand it?

How much did he need to understand before he could give in?

They parted at the bridge to Docks. Piper wanted to go on assisting. Fortune, pointing it out, noted that he had inquiries to make about decommissioning his own personal vice manufactory. They didn’t touch. Piper wanted to.

[doevademe]

Hello, can I make a request? I don't know if you know the new anime Buddy Daddies, one of the main characters reminds me a lot of Nico and the other one looks like Percy in personality. Do you think you could write something with that? I mean, two hired assassins who start babysitting a child and fall in love. PS: Sorry for my bad English

"Is it really that hard?" Percy asked curiously as he watched Nico mutter angrily.

"It is if you want it done right!" He retorted, pointing at him with the hairbrush as if it were a knife.

Percy would know, he had seen Nico do that just the night before during a hit.

"Is it done yet?" Cassie asked as she fidgeted in her chair.

"Almost," Percy reassured her and smiled warmly at her. "Just let your papa work his magic."

Cassie giggled as behind her, Nico rolled his eyes and got back to brushing. He still hadn't quite come around to the idea of them taking Cassie in, but he still had stopped complaining when Percy called him her papa.

Still, it was their fault Cassie had only them, so it was only natural for them to take responsibility.

Cassie's father had been meddling in Nico's family's business, trying to get the di Angelos out of their area by buying off their goons, and Hades had told Nico to deal with it. Of course, he had tried sneaking out to do the hit on his own.

Percy hadn't let him. Nico was excellent when it came to stealth assassinations, but with a target so heavily guarded it made sense to have backup.

To make a long story short, they were found out, tons of explosions, a bullet between the man's eyes, and a child who only had a letter that said her mom was dead and that the man they had just killed was her father.

Because the girl was very young, had never met her father, and was told she was going over to meet him, she had assumed Percy and Nico, the only ones alive there, were her fathers, and that she got the two for one deal at the dad factory.

So, Percy convinced (coerced) Nico that it was only natural for them to take care of her.

"Done," Nico said as he took out his phone and snapped a picture. He waited a second to see his composition was perfect (and it disturbed Percy a little that it was the exact same motions he used to send proof of his hits), and passed it to Cassie. "What do you think?"

Cassie (and Percy) saw the screen, showing the back of her head had a heart braided into it, falling into a regular braid that reached her shoulders.

Cassie screamed in glee as Percy gave a low whistle.

"You outdid yourself," he praised him. Nico huffed and looked away.

"You just need to follow the shape of the head," he said, trying to make it sound like he hadn't looked it up and practiced on ropes ever since Cassie mentioned wanting to wear that hairstyle to her first day of kindergarten.

"Thanks, papa!" Cassie gushed, hugging Nico tightly. Less than a second later, she turned around to face Percy. "Daddy look! Don't I look pretty?"

"Uh... yeah... beautiful," he said, though his eyes were glued on Nico, who had a small smile plastered on his face.

It was the first time he had seen Nico smile so... carefree, genuinely.

He wanted to see more of it.

Nico noticed him staring and frowned once more, turning his head so he wouldn't see his blush (too bad both of them were trained to catch on to those details).

"Do you think they'll like me?" Cassie asked quietly, making Percy finally look down at her.

"They'd be crazy not to," he told her. She smiled at him "Now come here!"

He lifted her up and started tickling her, making her laugh and squirm.

"Percy Jackson, I swear, if you mess up her braid—"

"Whoops, gotta go! Kindergarten is not going to take itself over!" he said, dancing around him and tossing Cassie, catching her in midair. "Take a rest Nico, you look like a panda!"

"Papa is a panda!" Cassie repeated, laughing.

Percy raced towards the door, catching a last glimpse of Nico, who seemed on the verge of a smile as he whispered, "idiot," fondly.

Percy couldn't help but worry sometimes that maybe Nico was right, that having two assassins as parents might mess up the little girl.

But seeing her laugh and smile, seeing Nico relax and be more than just a hitman... hell even seeing himself no longer give out fake laughs or needing to fill in every silent moment...

He couldn't help but think that maybe they took the right decision.

[krys-in-the-playhouse]

OC Brainrots #3: Miri and Memories of the Eight of Us

Welcome back to OC Brain Rots, where I go off about an OC of mine and whatever it is that caused them to tickle my brain at the moment.

Have decided to have the brain rot posts here, with the intros and the first two entries staying on main. All rots will be on my OC masterlist if you want to read the previous entries!

For this brain rot, Miri's been on my mind as of late thanks to these asks from Oliver ( @olivermorningstar) and then I happened across the audio drama 'Memories of the Eight of Us' on my watch later playlist on youtube and now I'm really in my feels with Miri and the Obey Me boys, so that's the reason for this brainrot.

If you want, I highly recommend watching/listening the drama, especially if you wanna be put in the mood for some wholesome Demon Brothers shenanigans. I'll post the link below!

For the basic gist of it, the bros are visiting the MC in the human realm after the release of the Miss Em plushies and are considering some fun things to do with MC on their mini vacation in Kyoto. They all take turns imagining different scenarios with MC. I'm inserting Miri and her reactions/participation ideas for these scenarios. Spoilers for the drama down below~

Mammon, being Mammon, he wants to go to the horse races. He fantasizes about winning a whole bunch of money from racing bets, but the brothers shoot down the idea. For me, I just imagine Miri wants to see the horses because horses are cool! If she has the speak to animals charm (because she would want it, Solomon teach it to her, she's begging!) Mammon would try and see if she could use her magic to see who was gonna win the race (as if that's a deciding factor), but she gets caught up in the horses' camaraderie of letting the oldest horse win because he's gonna retire after this race and they all looked up to him and respected him and Miri is brought to tears because it's such a moving story and places her bets on the old horse and wins big. Then it was Mammon's turn to cry as he bet against her (bc he didn't believe her/thought the horses were joshing her/some other reason to bet against her) and she just wins so so much money because she knew how the race was rigged, lol.

With Asmo, he wanted to visit a famous movie studio and then everyone could have some fun cosplaying as samurai lords. A scenario plays of samurai Asmo stopping a robber (Mammon) from stealing MC's purse, then giving MC a token as a remembrance. I just had a cute picture of Miri in a pretty pink and purple kimono with lots of layers as she's playing the part of a noble lady/princess that Asmo rescues and it was cute to imagine.

Levi wants to go to the manga museum while Satan wants to take MC to various other art museums. She would try to placate the both of them because manga (comics in general, really) is art too, so she'll want to go with both of them to the museums! Maybe introduce Satan to some manga he might like or point out older art pieces that helped inspire this or that mangaka to Levi. She'd have a great time regardless!

Belphie initially wanted to rent out a house so they could nap on the porch in the gentle breeze, but everyone thought that was boring, so he settled on pottery classes instead, where they could make their own teacups and paint them, which was also shut down bc of Belphie's not so great art skills. I think Miri would love to paint some teacups with him, it'd be so cute, no matter their art skill levels! She'd treasure those teacups! Y'all are just mean!

Lucifer (with everyone's leeriness about his suggestion of a factory in the anime) suggests a famous well said to be an ancient portal to hell. He wants both to check it out for Diavolo's interest, but also thinking of it as a way so MC can visit them/they can visit MC without having a drain on their magic. All the brothers try their best to not let the well idea win, but he does bring up some good points. No one wants to lose to a hole in the ground, so they decide it was best to let MC choose their adventure. But, not gonna lie, Miri would have interest with the hole in the ground too, sorry guys!

Beel, throughout this entire conversation, is thinking out loud about food, talking about various kinds (meats, seafood, can't forget the veggies either). Everyone else takes it as Beel being Beel and writes it off, at least until MC comes back home.

He had mentioned wanting to be the first to greet MC when they came back, causing the usual ruckus of all the brothers wanting to be the first to greet them, but, surprise, surprise, Beel gets his wish as the first words out of his mouth (after all the other brothers crowd around MC with their ideas of a fun vacation idea unprompted) were 'welcome home.' Not only that, but his mentions of food weren't his usual fantasies, but he was planning out dinner for MC, even making special mention that he didn't take bites in between cooking because he wanted to be sure they had enough to eat first. Me and Miri both teared up at his thoughtfulness, especially if she had a hard day of sorcerer lessons and human life in general.

The other brothers soon fall in line in saying welcome back/welcome home to Miri, making her tear up a little more and smile so big, feeling so loved in this little moment with her family.

And now I'm caught up in my feels too, so I'm gonna stop this here. Thanks for joining me on this feels trip! See ya in the next brainrot episode!

[keepyourvoicedown89]

You look around and can’t believe it.  As you stand in your brand new 700 sq foot loft in downtown LA, you take a deep breath and look past the stacks of boxes you have yet to unpack, out the window to the toy district’s art deco building across the way.  The sun is shining through the large factory windows and you can hear a neighbor’s music beat a rhythmic hum. You’re sure at some point that will be annoying. But right now, you love it.  It’s a sign of life, and this is the life you’ve been wanting to build for years.  You’re taking in this moment for what it is:  you’ve done it.  You’ve finally moved to a bigger city.  This is your attempt to find whatever it is your heart feels pulled to (even though you have no idea exactly what it is).   

It's been nagging at you under the surface for years.  Though you had a full life in your hometown, it never felt exactly like what you wanted.  Something always felt missing. Dating was abysmal at best, searching for a needle in a haystack amongst a field of toxic masculinity and piles of broken relationships.  Sure, you’ve done work on yourself, and could see yourself happy wherever you lived.  But you couldn’t ignore that deeply rooted pull to the west coast that became so strong you had to give into it.  When the pull became too strong, you started looking for jobs at publications in California. You were done being a big fish in a small pond at a hip, local scene publication back home.  After a zoom interview in the bag and some writing samples submitted, your first day at your new job at Crescendo Magazine, the nation’s most popular music magazine, was in a week.  It wasn’t exactly the fanciest job at the best place, but you were on your way up in the business.  You have to start somewhere as a little fish in a big pond.  

Just not yet.  First, you get to settle into your new life.  

You take a deep breath, take a mental snapshot of this first day in your new city, just an hour after the movers have dropped off your stuff. Just as you’re about to unpack your first box, your phone rings from your pocket.  Your mom’s voice greets you enthusiastically on the other end of the call.  

“Did everything make it okay?  How does it look?  I can’t wait to see it once you get your personality all over the place!” she says excitedly.  Your mom has always been your biggest support.  She had done all the research with you on where you might live in LA, and flown out to the city with you to look at a few places before deciding on the loft where you stand.  

“It’s great, mom.  I still can’t believe I’m here.  I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I do!  If you look in the box labeled ‘kitchen box one’, I threw in some gift cards for some of the local coffee shops and restaurants in your new neighborhood to get you out of the house and exploring.  I snuck out and grabbed some while you were still sleeping when we visited.  Why don’t you go out and be a part of the neighborhood a little bit, nourish yourself, let the neighborhood welcome you, and then get back to work?”

“Mom!  Oh my gosh, thank you.  It feels so daunting to even step outside until I unpack all of this,” you say looking at the towers of boxes scattered throughout the room.  You sit on your couch while you grab the box she identified and open it.  Sure enough, there are a handful of cards inside an envelope at the top of the box.

“Get out there and go find your people, your places, and your things, my dear.  Call me later today to let me know you got home safely.  I love you.”

You hang up with your mom and put the gift cards in your back pocket of your cut off shorts.  Your favorite old Get Up Kids concert T-shirt, with tears in the shoulder and the right side, somehow looks trendy even though it’s from wear.  It drapes on you, and you consider changing before heading out on your first adventure in your new neighborhood.  Your long, brown hair is tied up in a messy bun on top your head with your loose curls tickling your neck.  You disregard the thought of changing, grab your keys, your journal, a pen, and head out the door.  

Outside, there’s pockets of people wandering the streets.  Some look like tourists, with that familiar upwards gaze looking at the buildings or the constant searching through faces for famous people.  You pull the cards out of your back pocket and start looking up names of coffee shops that match the cards.  You pick the one right in the middle of the map so you can have a bit of a walk.  There aren’t too many cars out this early on a Sunday.  LA doesn’t wake up until 10am anyway, you’ve heard.  Everyone’s probably still climbing out of bed.  

Once inside the coffee shop, you order from the generic looking horn-rimmed glasses wearing, mustached hipster. You grab the number on the metal stand for your food, and find a spot near the large windows and wait on your latte and breakfast sandwich.  It’s still pretty empty in the shop, and you have your pick of places to sit.  The smell of coffee beans starts waking up your senses.  You think to yourself about calling the one friend you have in the area to invite them for coffee, but decide to stay on your own.  It’s harder to be on your own in a new place than you thought.  It’s anxiety inducing to sit there without the grounding of familiarity.  You open your journal and find yourself staring at the blank page hoping writing will ease your anxious thoughts.  You glance out the window at the people passing by.  Groups of hip, casually dressed thirty-somethings chatter as they head to the restaurant across the way for brunch.  There’s a small group of people on the corner in the direction towards your apartment hovering around someone.  Likely, a celebrity of some kind.  That’s something you’ll have to get used to.  Most of the time the “famous” people aren’t those you’d consider a celebrity, anyway.  

Your food arrives and you thank the barista as they barely nod in acknowledgment and walk away. You lean into your journal while slowly drinking your latte.  You’re pouring your energy into your writing while you feel the tables around you become occupied.  A man’s voice mumbles “excuse me” from behind you and without looking up you apologize and scoot your chair towards the table to give him room to sit down.  A few minutes pass, and you feel someone’s eyes on you.  You don’t want to make it awkward, so you drop your napkin and reach down to pick up and scan the room in the direction you feel the gaze.  From a few tables over, a man with sunglasses and blonde curly hair smiles at you.  You manage a half-assed close mouthed smile and go back to your writing.  

The feeling of the gaze doesn’t go away.  About fifteen minutes later you’re about to say something when you look up and notice the man isn’t even there anymore.  In his place, two girls sit talking and continue to glance your way while they chat with each other sipping their espresso.  The girl with her back to you turns her head and makes eye contact with you while the girl facing you mutters something glancing down.  

“Oh no,” you think.  “Did I spill something on me?  I must look a mess.  They’re mocking me because of how unkept I look.”  You self-consciously look down at your T-shirt and don’t see anything spilled on you.  Maybe your hair?  You pull out your top bun and mess with your curls and accidentally bump the man behind you.  

“oops, sorry,” you mumble while you nervously adjust your shirt.  

“ ‘salright, darlin’,” a soft male voice replies.  

 You glance back towards the girls and there’s now a couple more looking over.  What is going on?  Less than a day of living in LA and you’re somehow a social pariah?  

You hear a female voice behind you.  The barista is bringing the man behind you his coffee.  “here you go, one espresso and a breakfast sandwich.”  She hovers by the tables.  “is there anything else I can get you?”

The male voice speaks again, and you notice a british accent.  “no thank you, love.  this should do it.”

Where have you heard that voice before?  

You glance around again and see the girls who were looking at you before looking a bit beyond you.  Suddenly you realize they aren’t looking at you at all.  They’re looking at the man behind you.  

Where have you heard that voice before??

You put your head back into writing as you finish your sandwich.  Just as you’re about to finish your latte one of the girls from the table is walking your direction.  She makes eye contact with you again and widens her eyes as she passes you and addresses the man behind you.

“Excuse me?  I hope it’s not rude of me to interrupt you while you write, but I wanted to tell you I love your band so much.  Could I have an autograph?”  She asks him.

A band.  Ah, a musician.  Of course.  Your first day out and you end up sitting next to some famous musician.  You don’t want to turn around so obviously, but the suspense is killing you.

“Hi, darlin’.  Absolutely, you can have an autograph.  Who might I make it out to?”

“Morgan.”

A few moments pass, and the voice speaks again.  “Here you are, Morgan.  Thanks so much for loving our band.”

She walks away with a skip in her step and she and her friend leave.  The minute they’re outside, you watch as they both giddily jump up and down and squeal.   You chuckle about their delight and take the last sip of your latte.  You feel the chair behind you bump into yours.  

“ ‘s a good feeling making them that happy just to say hi,” the familiar voice says.  You turn your head in his direction and see him glancing out the window at the girls’ direction.  He turns his head, his dark curls dangling there just as unkept as yours, but his are tighter.  You immediately recognize that hair.  The minute you see those curls and the glimmer of his eyes through the sunglasses, you know exactly whose voice that is.

It’s matty healy.  

Your heart sinks to your stomach and you’re not sure what to say in response.  

So you don’t say anything at all.  

He leans his chin on his right hand while he looks at you sideways.  “I saw your Get Up Kids T-shirt when I walked in.  I love that album.  Great choice.”

Oh, okay.  So the first human you’re going to actually interact with your first day in town as a local is Matty Healy.  This is fine. 

“Thanks.  It’s one of my favorites,”  you mumble looking down at your shirt. There’s a pause where neither of you say anything at all.  You’re unsure if you should make a statement about his band.  You know who his band is.  You’ve seen them perform.  

“Midwest emo, huh?  A girl after my heart.” He says moving his sunglasses to the top of his head.  His brown eyes feel like they’re consuming your entire being.  It’s all a lot.  This man knows how to make you feel SEEN.  It is both delightful and terrifying.  It feels like he can read your thoughts.  You nervously giggle.

“That’s what I thought when I woke up this morning.  I’ll wear this and grab some depressed emo kid’s heart and run.”

“Who am I??”  you think as the words fall out of your mouth.

“Consider your day a success then,” he says.  His eyes drop to the tear in the shoulder.  His glance lingers there before returning north and meeting your eyes.  “I’m Matty.”  It feels like he’s taking in every cell in your body.

You look in his eyes and don’t look away.  There’s an electric feeling shooting throughout your body.  You don’t say your name for a second, and then you smile and tell him.  He smiles back and bashfully looks down.  He’s not shy, surely.  

You look away and see a notebook in front of him on the table, and nod in its direction.  “looks like we’re both writing?”

“yeah.  Writing kind of morning, I ‘spose,” he says looking towards your journal.  You both chuckle.  

“i guess so.  I wanted to write a bit before I head back to my new apartment and unpack.”

His eyes perk up.  “oh?  Just moved to Lalaland?  Welcome.  It’s…something.”  He adjusts the way he’s sitting to turn more towards you, with his hand draped over the back of his chair as he leans on his right arm on the table.

You laugh.  “The way you colored that ‘something’ tells me all I need to know.”  You adjust your body position and accidentally brush your arm against his fingers.  An immediate warmth rushes from the spot where you both touched on your arm all through your body.  He glances down to his hand and his gaze slowly comes back up to meet yours.  There’s another moment of pause.

“it’s an interesting enough place to write, that’s for sure,” he says after a moment.  God, does he know when he looks at you it feels like he bores a hole into your soul?  “so, are you a writer?”

You nod.  You giggle.  “you?”

He pauses for a moment, unsure if you were kidding for a nanosecond.  

“Sometimes. Right now, yeah.”

“Well, well, well.  We should write together sometime.” Your boldness surprises you.  It surprises Matty, too.

“Considering how much we’ve both gotten done today on our writing, maybe that’s not such a good idea,” he quips back.  His glance lowers to the tear lower in your shirt.  

Oh, that wasn’t meant to shoot you down.  

You’re uncertain what to say back when his phone starts buzzing from the table.  “oh, I’ve gotta take this.  One sec. Hello?” he says picking up the call. 

You needed this pause to check in with reality.  Are you really flirting with Matty Healy right now?  Did you almost invite him back to your bare apartment??  You pick up your phone and check it like you have messages to check.  Instead, you’ve checked how you look in your camera to see just how messy you look.  Oh, god.  You’ve got to try to clean yourself up.  You quickly decide to run to the restroom to straighten up.  As you stand, Matty’s head snaps and the look on his face tells you he’s questioning if you are leaving.  You shake your head and gesture towards the bathroom door a little bit away, and mouth asking him if he can watch your stuff.  He nods as he continues the conversation on the phone.

The minute you’re in the bathroom you look at your reflection and quickly try to correct the fly away curls and adjust your wrinkly T-shirt and cut offs. Crap, there’s no coming back from this.  You met Matty Healy in your scrubby clothes.

You’re gone just long enough to approach the tables where you’re both sitting to hear him laughing as he’s turning towards his own table away from yours.  His eyes watch you approach and his head slowly follows you as you sit back down.  After a moment you hear him wrapping up.  “..okay.  I’ll see you soon.  Yeah, I know. We’ll see.  ..Exactly.  Okay.  Bye.”  His eyes meet yours again after he takes the last sip of his espresso.  Is there disappointment in those eyes?  You must be projecting.  You have to be.  

“It’s been lovely meeting you, darlin’.  I’ve gotta run.  Enjoy LA.  The city’s definitely better now that you’re here.” He stands up and turns towards the door.  As he does, his hand touches your shoulder and squeezes with care.  You look up at him and see him looking down at you with a dark glimmer in his eye while his hand lingers on your shoulder.  You can’t help it, you imagine the sight of him at that angle in the dirtiest way.  He smirks at you as if he also imagines the same thing, but you know he can’t be.  His hand hasn’t moved from your shoulder, and you haven’t said anything back yet.

“I’m glad you were the first person I’ve met in LA, Matty.” You say looking up at him.  He smiles, and walks towards the door and heads around the corner away from the direction of your apartment.

You sit there frozen for a moment before grabbing your things awkwardly and heading back home.  As soon as you’re home, the mountains of boxes call you to unpack but you are shaking from the encounter.  You decide to call your mom instead.  Excitedly, you tell her all about the encounter and how you didn’t even know he was there.  She gets just as excited as you, since she knows how much you like the band.  You tell her how you were where she bought the gift card and writing in your journal and didn’t know he was behind you.  As you’re telling her the story, you grab your journal and open it to a random blank page a little bit after where you’ve stopped writing.  There, in scribbled handwriting, is a message.  You freeze.

“Honey?  Honey?  Are you still there?  What happened?”

Scribbled towards the bottom of the page is a message in Matty’s writing.

“Let’s get together.  Matty xx” and his number right after.

[jimblejamblewritings]

Rewriting Lightlark | part 2.

Summary: That's it. I literally just rewrote Lightlark and tried to make it better. Read if you want.

Word Count: 2.9k

Previous Part

Something wet landed on Isla’s cheek. She wiped at her hand as she sat up from her nap. Isla looked down at the book under her head. She remembered telling her main servants, Poppy and Terra, that she would spend the morning of her coronation reading in the conservatory. She didn’t remember when she must have fallen asleep in the middle of a chapter about healing tonics. 

“Good. I was starting to think you might be dead,” a bright voice said. 

Isla rubbed her eyes and turned her head to see Miso, her companion. The red panda toddled towards Isla and made herself comfortable in her lap. The Wildling absentmindedly scratched under Miso’s cheek. 

She finally stood up, feet tickled by the moss floor. The Conservatory was Isla’s favorite part of the castle. It was entirely glass but the plants were so large that no one could see inside the building unless they looked through the roof. The moss floor instead of any tiles had been her great-grandfather’s idea. Isla found it to be one of the best materials to read and nap on. She patted her left foot against the ground multiple times, groaning when a small vine flattened under her foot.  

“Oh come on… Stupid Nightshade powers.” 

Being half-Nightshade didn’t just make her Wildling powers a bit weaker, it made her have to work a thousand times harder than others. Nightshade and Wildlings were complete opposites. One practically manipulated death, the other created life. They were always battling with each other inside her. 

“Fine,” she said with a huff. “No giant vine, just don’t let me fall.” 

She clutched Miso a little tighter as she placed her foot on the base of a giant eucalyptus tree. The trunk bent just enough that Isla could stand on it without falling straight to the floor. It kept bending as she walked higher and higher until she reached the roof. There was a large crank to open up a hole in the ceiling. 

Only the royals took care of the Conservatory. It was their little sanctuary away from everyone. Isla didn’t want the plants to suffer while she was at the Decennial. She would be back. She had to be back. Her brother’s wife died in childbirth and the baby didn’t make it either. Talon was gone before finding another woman. There were no more Wildling heirs so she had to live. 

She pulled on the crank until the ceiling was completely open. Hopefully that was enough for the plants to get the proper sunlight and rain that they needed while she was away. The large doors of the Conservatory opened. 

“Princess?” a shrill voice called. 

“Coming!” 

Isla hastily ran down the tree, the tree bending to make sure she never fell off. Her main servants, Poppy and Terra watched her set Miso down onto the ground. Terra and Isla winced at the shriek that left Poppy’s mouth. 

“What happened to your hair?” 

Isla tried to look up at her own hair. Her fingers gently raked through the strands. Most of the braids were gone. She could have sworn she had done her hair last night so they wouldn’t have to worry about it the morning of the coronation. Isla shrugged. 

“I’ll handle my hair so you don’t have to redo it, Poppy.” 

“No matter, I love doing hair.” 

Poppy was already running back to her room to grab a vial of fresh mint leaf oil. Terra and Isla both laughed as they followed behind the over excited woman. Sometimes it was better to just let Poppy do what she wanted. If she got too upset, rose bushes tended to spring up around her. No one really wanted to deal with pulling thorns out of their feet. Isla just sat at her vanity stool while Poppy did her hair and Terra created makeup. 

Wildlings rarely owned makeup that they hadn’t created. They were the main creators of beauty products for Lightlark. Terra didn’t want to use Isla’s already-made makeup. A coronation needed something special. Isla’s vanity looked more like a factory table. Terra carefully cut a single leaf from a small aloe plant. Her knife scraped all the gel into a bowl, combining it with shea butter made two months ago and some witch hazel. The smallest bit of cocoa powder was added to make the mixture match Isla’s skin.  

“Here,” Poppy said, handing it to Isla to put on her face. 

Isla put it on her face without complaint. Sometimes she wondered if Poppy and Terra were what it was like to have sisters? If her parents hadn’t died would she and Talon have gotten baby sisters or would she have been the only girl? 

Terra moved on to make color for Isla’s eyes and cheeks. They were in smaller pans, likely to be thrown away after the Decennial because Isla didn’t care for anything on her eyes. Poppy didn’t trust her or Terra to apply the eye color. She finished Isla’s hair in record time before taking the tin and applying it herself. 

Isla finally stood up after Terra applied the berry lip stain, thankful to be done. She couldn’t remember her brother’s coronation but she imagined it was just as boring of a process for him as she was finding it. Everything was beautiful, from her makeup to her beaded dress, but getting ready was still boring. She took in a deep breath before opening her bedroom doors. Poppy and Terra tied the strings of her cape around her.  

“The carriage is waiting for you. We’ll see you at the stage.” 

“Why are we still using plain carriages? Sunlings have created autocarriages.” 

“Yes but those were only invented two years ago, I don’t trust them yet,” Poppy fussed. 

Isla didn’t argue. She walked towards the side of the castle where they held the carriages. She got into the open-top carriage after greeting the driver, careful to make sure her entire cape made it into the vehicle. The cape was merely plain vines sewn together. 

The carriage was off before Isla could process it. The carriage was to drive through most of Wilding, giving Isla the chance to wave to those who couldn’t make the coronation. Farmers looked up from their work as the carriage came by. They waved back to Isla, creating flowers and throwing them into the air as a form of celebration. 

She was happy to see there were more babies around but the amount of adults didn’t seem to go down. Children were always a sore point for Wildling. The only way they could see to keep the population successfully was through a breeding program — something that sounded so demeaning everyone called it The Quoi instead. 

The carriage passed by The Quoi, one of the last places before city hall, where the workers and couplings were outside to see her come by. The Quoi might not have been very empowering but it worked. The whole building was inside a giant, hollowed out sequoia tree. Couplings were blindfolded before being put in rooms by matchmakers who personally selected each man and woman for a coupling. Love cottages were run the same way to try and allow people to still have sex without forming attachments. It worked for the most part. Each year seemed to bring less death than the year prior. 

The carriage finally pulled up to city hall. City hall and the castle were in the same city of Edulis, so close that Isla could walk there if she wanted. But the coronation was held there instead of the castle because of tradition. Every Wildling ruler worked in city hall. That was where mornings and sometimes afternoons were spent holding meetings, hearing people’s grievances, and greeting the rulers of the other isles. 

The entire crowd turned as they heard the carriage. Isla stepped out of the carriage to the deafening sound of applause. Carefully, she bent down and took off her sandals. Each of her steps were calculated as she walked down the plain grass aisle. Calla lilies and pink hyacinths were left behind, springing up from the ground the moment her heel lifted off of the grass. 

Each member of the crowd bent down to touch the grass. Slowly, Isla’s vine cape was becoming covered in various flowers. By the time she reached the stairs of city hall, the cape was completely full. Isla turned to face the crowds after taking her spot on the middle step of the staircase. She tuned out Terra’s speech, only going through the motions when she needed to say her lines. The coronation was real. It finally hit her that Talon was gone. 

“I now present to Wildling their new queen. Guardian Isla Ciaran Bryony Crown, long may she reign and keep us safe.” 

The crowd kneeled down. “May Guardian Isla keep us safe.” 

Terra placed the crown on Isla’s head. It was a wreath made of dried grass and peony. The wreath had belonged to Talon. He had made it himself a few years ago, choosing to wear it as his everyday crown. Isla bowed back to her people, thankful the coronation was over. Poppy ran to get Isla’s sandals and helped her put them on. 

“You need to sit and eat.” 

Isla nodded absentmindedly and let herself be led into city hall. Every Wildling left plants on the ground if they were barefoot. Most were able to control it better after puberty, along with the fact that they only produced one plant subconsciously. Isla still had control problems, causing daisies to randomly appear sometimes. But she wanted to do something special for the coronation, regretting every moment of it because her energy was now drained and she felt like she would faint. 

Poppy came back after making sure Isla was sitting properly at her writing desk chair. Isla reached for the orange slices first. Her eyes scanned the room as she thought. The Decennial was in three days. She had never trained for the Decennial. That was Talon’s problem. Even if he died in the event, she would still have a decade after that to learn. It was impossible to learn any worthwhile skills in three days. 

Isla jumped when an envelope came through the Shadow Mirror. The Shadow Mirror was a Nightshade invention and not very common. They were gifted to all the other rulers by the first Nightshade king, Commandant Cronan. A bit of shadow was captured and trapped into the metal frame of a mirror. Things could be put into the Shadow Realm by those that weren’t Nightshade and taken out, all through the mirrors. 

Isla picked up the envelope and turned it over. The neat, carefully placed letters on the front were addressed to her. She dug her finger underneath the wax and forced the envelope open. 

I accept your proposal for an alliance. 

                              — Commandant Grimshaw Scepter 

Isla’s eyebrows scrunched. When did she request an alliance with Nightshade? No matter. One more alliance wouldn’t hurt. She had already secured the Starling queen, Professor Celeste. Alliances could break and friends could turn on each other but it always made rulers felt better to have them. Isla nodded before pulling open a drawer in her desk and grabbing a match to burn the letter. At least with another alliance — and one from Commandant Grimshaw, no doubt — she might have a chance of living through the Decennial and making it to her twentieth birthday next year.  

~~

Three days passed too quickly. With reluctance, Isla left her bed only after Miso smacked her in the face. Her eyes glanced over to her trunks near the door. They had been packed ever since receiving a letter from Star Isle that Moonling fishermen fishing off their coasts had recovered Talon’s body along with five other Wildling soldiers and sailors. 

The trunks held everything she needed to stay at the Grand Palace on Lightlark. Isla took her time washing up. She made her way to her closet with heavy steps. All rulers were supposed to show up in a very nice outfit with the main colors of their Isle to greet the Grand Queen. Isla just didn’t feel like it. 

“The light green dress is pretty,” Miso said from her spot on the bed. 

Isla didn’t even argue, just grabbing the green dress from off of the hanger. She put it on, fighting through layers of tulle and lace and flowers. 

“How do I look?” she asked, turning to face Miso.  

“Radiant.” 

The red panda jumped into Isla’s arms. She greeted Poppy and Terra right outside her door. They collected her trunks and took them to the personal dock. Wildling Castle overlooked the coast, making travel to any of the other isles very easy for the rulers. Lightlark wasn’t just a single island. It was a large main one and several smaller ones surrounding it.  

Smaller isles that held only Larkings of the same kind of magic. They all intermingled and lived together on the main island, also named Lightlark. Isla gave her final goodbyes to Poppy and Terra before she and Miso boarded the ship. 

A group of sailors bowed to her. “The main island is a three hour ride, make yourself comfortable.” 

Isla nodded and sat down on the ship’s deck, taking her crown off and leaving it next to Miso. She recognized the sailors. They were Moonlings. They could move the water and create large tides. That was the only way to get to Lightlark in such a quick manner. And being punctual was important. Aurora controlled their lives during the Decennial. They tried not to anger her as much as possible. Being on time might win points with her. 

It didn’t happen every Decennial, but more often than not, Aurora would pardon a ruler. They were immune from death, giving them a sense of peace for the remainder of the Decennial. Isla spent her boat ride thinking about ways to win the Grand Queen’s favor. Aurora’s title made her huff. She might have been a Starling ruler five centuries ago but all her family was gone and she abandoned Star Isle long ago. She wasn’t a Grand Queen but a tyrant. 

Isla stopped thinking about it when they reached the docks of Lightlark. No one knew of Aurora’s powers but she wouldn’t be surprised if mind-reading was one of her talents. The ship finally docked. Isla stared at the row of carriages. Six carriages for the six remaining rulers of Lightlark. 

Hers was obviously the green one. One other ship docked two spaces over. Isla saw the golden halo crown of the Sunling king before she saw Lord Oro’s face. She couldn’t actually see his face. He was covered from head to toe in a gold shroud. His outfit underneath, Isla imagined, was probably just as intricate and gold. 

He turned his head and Isla could spot a thin sheer slit for his eyes. He bowed before gesturing to Isla’s own dock. The two left their ships at the same, ending up side by side as they walked to the carriages. 

“It is nice to see you, Guardian Isla. May I extend congratulations for your coronation.” 

“Thank you, Lord Otto.” 

The two didn’t say anything else. They sat in their respective carriages and waited for the trunks to be loaded before taking off. Isla always loved coming to Lightlark. The island glittered with the spirit of innovation. When all of the citizens lived together, they could come up with incredible things. 

Buildings started getting taller, and not because they were giant sequoia trees. More of them were also becoming made of glass or fine stones. And plants separated road lanes and blocked the carriages and autocarriages from running into pedestrians on the pavement. The place still needed more nature in Isla’s opinion but she wouldn’t mind bringing some of the designs back to Wildling. 

The green and gold carriages pulled up to the Grand Palace. Once, the rulers of Lightlark held council and boarded together in the Grand Palace while their heirs went to school and lived their adult years on their respective isles. Now it was the home of Aurora only. The large castle made of white and yellow mentime stones glittered as sunlight bounced off of it. Isla noticed all the windows were closed either with wooden shutters or thick curtains. Certainly for Lord Oro’s sake. 

The two rulers stepped out of their carriage once they entered the outer courtyard of the palace. The Grand Queen Aurora was standing there waiting for them. Her lightly tanned hand pushed at the silver crown on her head. 

“I thank you for making the journey to the Decennial.” 

“Do we have a choice?” Oro asked, either not aware of or not caring about Aurora’s expression. 

Isla couldn’t blame him for the anger. He wasn’t much older than her but he was an unwanted second son. Sunling’s royal family was notorious for not caring about any children after their firstborn. They thought it made it easier to accept their deaths in the Decennial. Oro was only fourteen in his first Decennial, the same age as Talon. Grace of the other rulers was why he was still alive. 

He only had to live through this Decennial and then he would be welcomed home with open arms. His older sister’s second child would be old enough to compete in the Decennial. He would be free to live his life in peace and finally abdicate the throne, giving it to the firstborn like it was supposed to be. 

Aurora ignored his statement. “The attendants will show you to the gathering room. You can wait there for the others to arrive.”  

[cricksims]

Borowski Legacy - 1929

(excuse some of the poorer quality photos, my phone nerfed the damn things bc they were sitting in my drive for a month </3)

The Borowskis last month in New Orleans is upon the family. Francis has an inquiry for his older sister, now that he is a teenager.

"Amelia, I am not a young boy anymore. I know of youe occupation, and I want to help. I want to assist Otto, he is overwhelmed with his son and the twins," Francis insists.

Amelia looks at Otto for a moment, and then chuckles.

"What has got you so tickled?" Francis asks, offended.

Amelia shakes her head. "It is not an easy job nor an honorable one. I've killed men, my baby brother. I have taken from innocent people."

"I am not naive, I know of the risks. Please, give me a group of men. Instead of moving your gang all the way to Washington, you could have locations in both areas. I can make enough dough to help Otto out while you focus on your gal and AJ and Imogene. Please, sister. Let me prove myself to you."

Amelia ponders his request. She could really use the help providing for Otto, who had to leave his cushy office job to work in a factory. The economic crash is hitting everybody hard. And if Francis really wants to..?

"Alright." Amelia says. "I shall leave a group of men here with you. You will do small jobs. I'm very serious, Francis. You may think you are an adult, but you are still a boy. Fifteen years is not a long time on this earth. Stay smart, my brother."

--------------

AJ is saying goodbye to Dolores, his girl. He already said his farewells to Evelyn and Bernard. Evelyn is quite upset, but she promised to write. AJ suggested the girl spend her time with Francis, the boy was only three years older than them.

"He will not be as special as you," Evelyn has said. AJ is going to miss his best friend so dearly.

---

"My family is moving to Washington as well." Dolores tells AJ, bringing him back to the present.

AJ is caught off guard. This was supposed to be a goodbye!

"What are you saying?" AJ asks.

"My family comes from a different country. New Orleans is not kind to us. You might understand- being a Jew. They call us hurtful names. Jobs send my father away. My mother says the West Coast is kinder."

AJ is taken aback. He had no idea how harmful New Orleans had been to Dolores.

"I am so sorry," AJ says, not knowing what else to say.

Dolores just smiles and shakes her head. "You do not need to say sorry. We may not be in the same town- but very close by! You are still my boy, this will not change."

AJ smiles. He will miss Evelyn and Bernard, but he's grateful for Dolores's presence.

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

Hi again how are you thank you for accepting☺️ so the prompt is Willy is not having a good day and Lofty and Noodle tickle him to cheer him up. Bonus points if Lofty gives him raspberries.😊

I'm sorry that this took so long!!!

I've been a bit busy lately, but that's not a good excuse. I really hope you still enjoy it - I love this prompt. Thank you for your patience (:

Fandom: Wonka

Title: Bird's Nest

Noodle and Lofty sat side by side, looking out of the window, staring at the construction sight before them. They were both staying in Wonka's factory or, rather, what was soon to become Wonka's factory, sat in a small hut in the corner of a wide property.

Why couldn't Wonka just live in that little hut by himself?

Well, rather embarrassingly, Wonka got spooked out by the sounds of the construction at night, and didn't feel comfortable all alone in the dark at the mercy of the 'truck monsters'. Lofty was staying with him anyway, but somehow Wonka didn't feel like he would be enough to fight off the 'truck monsters' if they intruded. Noodle, however, was very strong, and had agreed to live with Wonka and fight alongside him as, after all, she did owe him quite a bit.

Usually living with Wonka was a delight, but there were two situations in which it could be a pain.

1). When Wonka was out working later than usual, and Noodle and Lofty had run out of things to do so they mutually died of boredom

2). When Wonka snored.

On this particular afternoon, it was situation one. That was why, when Noodle heard the key click in the front door, she immediately bounced off the couch. Although Noodle was overly excited to see him, her mood immediately dropped when she saw Wonka's face. He looked completely sad and flustered.

"Hi Noodle", he said as he walked in, with not an ounce of energy in his voice.

"Ooo", Lofty remarked, "Someone's grumpy".

Noodle shot him a dirty look, directing Wonka to the couch that she had just been sitting on.

"Oh Willy, what's wrong?", she asked, plopping herself beside him.

"Nothing", Wonka replied, letting his eyes dart away.

"Come on", Noodle said, "You can't fool me, I know that face. What's up?"

"Well", Wonka sighed, "There was just this awful customer today at the shop. He told me...never mind, it's not important"

Noodle's heart sunk. She hated seeing Willy this way, she hated seeing him this insulted and hearing about him being mistreated. Wonka was the sweetest, most witty, most vibrant person anyone could ever want to be around. How could a customer have possibly been able to be so mean?

"What did the customer say?", Lofty demanded, jumping up on to the couch on the other side of Wonka.

"It's ok", Noodle interrupted, "you don't have to say".

"Nah", Wonka sighed, "I'll get it out. He said..."

Both Lofty and Noodle leaned in attentively.

"...He said that my hair looked like a birds nest made of fat ducklings that had been trampled over by too many baby elephants".

Lofty immediately burst into laughter, to which Noodle slapped him.

"Hey!" Lofty said, "You have to admit that that's humorous".

Noodle glared at him for the second time that afternoon. However, when she directed her attention back to Wonka, she noticed that the boy had a little smirk on his face, and a few bubbly giggles escaped his lips, although his head still hung down.

"It's okay Noodle", Wonka said, "It was a very creative insult, as well as a hurtful one".

"Well I like your hair", Noodle said matter-of factly, "It's nice and cute and wavy. That customer had no idea what he was talking about".

Wonka sighed again, "I'm sorry Noodle, but I just can't agree. That guy was right. My hair is messy and weird in a bad way".

Noodle opened her mouth to say something, but Lofty interrupted - "Oh come on Willy. You have an array of less than desirable qualities but your hair is certainly not one of them".

Noodle rolled her eyes - what a Lofty compliment. Still, it made Wonka crack a smile again, and caused him to tilt his head up to look at Lofty direclty.

"Well?", he challenged, "What are my 'less than desirable qualities' than?"

Lofty stood up and cleared his throat. "Well, because you have asked, I shall tell you. You have the body of an adult but the mind of a child. You are too hopeful and naive. You have an overactive imagination. Your never fully socially aware, always off in your own little world. You never respond or even listen when others try to catch your attention if you are in the middle of making a chocolate. And you make the most horrid noises at night!"

Wonka hmphed lightly, "Is that so?"

Noodle would have glared at Lofty again if his strategy weren't helping.(Strategy? Nah, just Lofty being Lofty). But Wonka was clearly amused, and seemed in a much better mood than he had been when he walked in.

"Come on Lofty", he stood up, "I am an expert chocolate maker! The best on the planet! The best in a thousand planets! The best in a zillion planets! How could I possibly have the mind of a child?"

Noodle rolled her eyes and chuckled, glad that the old Wonka was back, "Oh come on Willyy, sit down".

"Nope", he said, "I'm staying right here. Until you can absolutely, positively prove that I am childish, I won't be doing anything you say".

There was silence for a few seconds, before an idea dawned on Noodle. She smirked and stood up, reaching Wonka's level.

"Okay, just letting you know that this is your final chance to back out".

Wonka, not phased at all by the mischievous hint in his friends' voice, nodded firmly and turned around, beginning to march away like the dignified adult that he was. Rolling her eyes with a grin, Noodle grabbed the back of Wonka's coat, yanking him back toward her as he yelped.

"Now Noodle, I couldn't possibly think of why you would do that but EEP!"

Wonka squealed as he felt ten digits digging into his sides, literally collapsing in giggles as he fell back onto the couch with a thud. Lofty had to stand up and get out of the way as Wonka reflexively squirmed his way away from Noodle's tormenting fingers and toward the end of the couch, giggling all the way but not making any attempts to swat the girl's hands. Lofty just stood back, watching with an amused smirk.

"Ahahaha!", Wonka cried, his bubbly giggles, scrunched up face and constant movement making his hair resemble a birds nest. Of course, Lofty had to point this out, to which Noodle softly punched him. That was a mistake. Wonka, with his lightning reflexes, sprung up and reached to tweak Noodle's ribs, which resulted in her jumping in a ticklish shock. The young girl glared back at Wonka, who had a very satisfied smile on his face.

"That was very...childish of you Wonka", Noodle said, snapping a successful grin of her own.

Wonka's face dropped. "You see young lady, that is what we call unfair play". Noodle just smiled brighter and stuck her tongue out at the young man below him.

"Why you little-", Wonka reached his arms up to turn the tables, but no sooner had he begun his counterattack than Lofty had pushed him back down and launched an assault under his arms.

"OHOHOHO SMOHOHOHOKE!", Wonka cried, instantly falling back into the vulnerable position he was in before. The chocolatier's arms darted to his sides, to which Lofty smirked triumphantly, "you know very well that there's no use doing that. There it is - those irrational decisions that you are always making. See, now I have no choice but to tickle you there".

Wonka's chest heaved, his laughter spilling out of him with no restraint, Noodle chuckling to herself as she watched.

"NOOOHOOODLE! PLEAHEAHAHSE! HEHEHEHELP!"

"Nah, rather not", Noodle responded matter of factly, "I think you brought this upon yourself Wonka. Especially for being such a stubborn pants. Besides, you could use some loosening up after the day you have had".

Wonka couldn't respond to that, only collapse in desperate laughter as his armpits were 'attacked'. The sensation sent ticklish jolts through Wonka's entire body, making him feel as if he was floating upon a cloud, laughing freely as Lofty smirked evilly down at him. Noodle is right - Wonka thought as he doubled over in reaction to Lofty changing his technique from scratching to tracing the hollows under his arms - I do need this, and I do feel better. It was so nice to just let go, be silly and have fun. (It wasn't like Wonka wasn't silly all the time, but this was special - it was a moment of connection between him and his dearest friends).

"Lofty, youv'e been on that spot for a while, I think you might be breaking him". It was true - Wonka's cheeks had gone dark red, and he was running out of breath to laugh, as well as the effort for his body to struggle.

"Nah,he's fine", Lofty responded simply, as if completely unaware of the mess below him.

"Plehehehease", Wonka said, tears swelling in his eyes, "stohohop".

Lofty imeditately let up - this was the only time that Wonka had asked him to stop, so he must have meant it. The goofy man took in a few sharp breaths, and rustled his hair with his left hand. Sitting up, he chuckled, "Wow, that was mean".

Lofty just shrugged "Your welcome. I could tell that you were a bit tense. I'm sure that helped. I'm sure it would for a guy as childish as you, and so devastatingly ticklish". Lofty emphasized the word "devastatingly" in a way that made Wonka go dark red.

"Hey", Noodle remarked, "Lofty, just for interest, are you ticklish?"

The Oompa Loompa crossed his arms and smirked, "I mean, you can try, but nothing will happen".

"I think I'll leave this to Wonka", Noodle responded, eying her younger friend. Wonka smirked - "Wow, you seem awfully confident. I don't know Noodle - do you think he's bluffing?"

Noodle shrugged - "Only one way to find out".

Lofty hadn't made any attempt to move, so Wonka hesitantly reached out to scratch his stomach. Nothing. His hips? Nothing. Under his arms? Nope. Lofty looked awfully pleased with himself.

"Okay", Lofty said, "You can try one more spot. If it's my tickle spot, than you win. If it isn't, I get to tickle you where you tickled me. Deal?"

Wonka blushed - he was very curious about Lofty, and also, as much as he hated to admit it, wanted more tickles. It was a win win.

Without responding, Wonka scribbled his fingers across Lofty's neck in an instant action of delight, excepting to relish in the sound of his laughter.

No sound came out.

Wonka's cheeks went even more red, and he lifted his arms defensively. He chuckled sheepishly as Lofty crossed his arms and menacingly approached him.

"Co-home on Lofty. We-he can talk about this".

Suddenly, Noodle swooped past Lofty and started tickling Wonka's neck, causing him to squeal once again before falling back in a pile of giggles.

"Noohoohoodle!", he laughed, scrunching up his shoulders, "Thihihihis is Lofty's johohohob!"

"Really, that's what your concerned about?", Noodle said with a chuckle, "Your not at all concerned about the fact that I'm tickling you to bits?"

Wonka blushed even deeper, before screeching as, out of complete nowhere, Lofty leaned over and blew raspberries on over the thin section of shirt covering his stomach.

"Ohohoohoho nohoho!", Wonka cried, starting to kick his legs, to which Noodle and Lofty had to get out of the way, "Sohohohon of a wackadoooohhoooohooodle!". Lofty and Noodle smiled at each other, as Lofty withdrew and watched Wonka clutching his stomach, as if he'd just been given a very ticklish punch. Noodle took this as her signal to stop too.

For the first few second's after they'd stopped, Wonka hadn't even realized. He just kept giggling and squirming, until he looked up and noticed Lofty and Noodle, raising their eyebrows at him. Embarrassed, Wonka stood up and brushed his shirt - "Sorry about that".

Noodle chuckled, "Wow, that was really childish of you".

[missamyrisa2]

Your tickle machines reminded me of an horror game idea. Having to keep quiet while bound in vr while a monster stalks around you and you're stream followers can add more tickle monsters to make things harder. Live steam viewers guiding evil little tickle bugs across your body in a race to make you expose your laughter to the stalking creatures.

mmmmhhh I loveeee the ideaaa so much. VR sets just make me wiggly in general because it's like you have so many of your faculties kind of distracted and gently bound. One time I was at a convention and during the off hours our group went to a game center which had one of those big VR setups, where everyone is like on a conveyor belt with the headset and everything. I was a stumbling mess the whole time because I couldn't not think about the tiiiiicklesss~!!

Likeeee it was a shooty shooty game butttttt being on that conveyor and running (and stumbling) I was onlyyy thinking about what if this was like an escape the tickle factory scenario and I was trying to run backwards on the conveyor as all the machinery was buzzing and waitinggggg and eeeee all the tickles would be sent through that VR harnessssss and just ahhh~~!!

But yessss the tickle monster game soooo perfect toooooo ~ especially with followers sending in more monsters, surely pooling together to summon the big baddiessss the multi armed menaces and giant kissyyyy lip cutie attackers and creeeepy ghostyyyy stalkersss just mmmh! I would be a complete wreck so fast it would be like 5 minutes of action, me stumbling around trying to hide and escape and the rest just total gang monster ticklesssss on meeee, writhing around in my VR equipment as my virtual self suffers an endless line of bad endings ~<3

[kieuecaprie]

So... I finished the main taskline (for now) for Toontown Corporate Clash. I won't say too much about the end but it was definitely a journey to get through, especially when the server started having issues and districts had to be reset which made making and finding groups a bit of a drag.

So, I figured it'd be nice to have a little collection of screenshots I took over the course of my journey. Of course, I won't dump all of them, just a select few I found neat.

There may be spoilers but I think most of the screenshots I'm about to post are just out of context stuff anyhow so... I'm gonna give you a fair warning anyway!

I believe I posted this a while back effectively saying that I have been playing TTCC and wanted to post this screenshot. I managed to catch the tailend of the St. Patrick's Day code event so I was able to snag some stuff, including the clover that became a mainstay on my deer.

I think this may have been the first of many buildings I would take on by myself over the course of doing the main taskline so I guess I took this screenshot to comemmorate my first building (plus it was in Toontown Central, where buildings are kind of a rarity even on private servers) and the fact I barely made it out alive.

This was before I learned the power of Prestige Throw, btw, that little prestige gag carried me pretty hard with its self-healing properties.

I just liked visual bugs and this one kind of tickled me. You can still get on the elevator, it's just bugged for some reason. No idea if this was a server thing or the behavior of the base code of the game that it ran on.

Funnily enough, BB was the first playground I got to the final kudos rank-up task for just so I could go see Rainmaker, who would otherwise be known as Misty Monsoon if you searched through some ARG stuff (or read the wiki, I guess).

Her fight was an ordeal the first time through and was frightening and was definitely a step up from the easy gameplay of the babby game that came before it.

I spared her, in case you were asking. Fortunately, my group decided to do the same.

I hated going through YOTT even though I liked the vibe of it all. The dialogue was painful to read but this one with Seymour in particular was chuckleworthy. Kind of appreciated that. Keep at it, TTCC writer's team!

I think this was taken during my runs through Sellbot Factories for the Sellbot parts. I admit, it was a little nervewracking at first to utilize the group finder because, up to this point, I was just using it to set up groups for battles I absolutely needed to do (Derrick Man, Land Acquisition Architect, Public Relations Representative). No idea why this screencap in particular, maybe I just found the name "Medieval Pheasant" on the Turkey toon to be quite amusing.

Fishing was my first activity I'd end up maxing on this server. As customary, I grade games based on how fun their fishing is. I'd give the Toontown fishing, as a whole, a decent 7/10. Fish Bingo is a nice sidegame and casting and reeling is super quick, also a good source of currency and ended up filling my bank to the brim.

A screenshot from... some attempt at mity, I don't know the number tbh. Tried the old "befriend a cog" trick during the mist phase and my heart shattered into a million pieces afterward...

Going through Mezzo Melodyland (At the time of writing, I have the rank-up task available to go from 9 to 10, gonna hold off on that for now but I'm coming for you, DAVE BRUBOT!), and I run into a taskline about a kazoo maestro who wants me to go find someone who is the kazoo kid. I already knew where this was going but I didn't think they'd actually go through with the bit.

Good one!

Shut up and leave me alone.

The only screenshot I ever took in a Cashbot Mint. Honestly thought it'd take a while to clear out the 4 Coin Mints, 4 Dollar Mints, and the 2 Bullion Mints but they were snap compared to the Lawbot and Bossbot facilities... especially in wait time, yeesh.

Come on, you had to break into Reid's van at LEAST once! I hope she didn't mind me coming in, I mean, I do pay her a ton of jellybeans, after all!

My first capped track was Throw, predictably. And I think Lure followed soon after and then it took a while before Sound, Squirt, Zap, and Toon Up would join them. Still got Trap and Drop left to go and I don't look forward to levelling Trap again.

This wizard really wanted the... ahem... minglussy. iamsosorry

Lawbot Lawfices... They were kinda fun but waiting was a bit of a drag. Although I think at one point, someone pointed out that you could play Toono on the couches. WHY COULDN'T BOSSBOT HQ HAVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!

Speaking of, here's a screenshot from a Bossbot Cog Golf Course. Don't tell me which one because they all felt the same to me, and it was at that point that I really felt the drag. This part was probably one of the biggest hurdles imo and I don't blame anyone for not really wanting to do anything related to Bossbots unless they ABSOLUTELY had to. (Speaking of, if any friendos wanted to do cog golf courses, I'd gladly run it because I don't want them waiting half a century for a group.)

Short detour into the High Roller stuff for MAYpril Toons event. I was sad that I couldn't fight Sads but the High Roller fight was definitely something else. And if they could pull that off for a permanent, non-canon joke of a manager, what could they do for 2.0? Gosh, imagine. The next few are also High Roller related, I had to grind for a bit to get the stuff out of him. (I still need one more item from him, barring another update that adds yet another goalpost, but it takes a while to beat him even with optimal strats.)

Holy meh, Toriel Toontown real.

This one is from one of the CEO fights. I took this one because the game was taking its sweet time waiting for everybody and found the cogs with their hands in the same position as the grief kiwi sticker to be quite funny.

While I was doing the DDL taskline, I ran into this where Featherbedder and a bunch of cogs were just... snoozing. And there was literally nobody fighting them. Guess they just wanted a slumber party, huh?

Hehehe... yeah, game show. Would be crazy if there was one in Mezzo Melodyland hosted by a robotic green duck who is a fusion of two cog managers that we've previously fought, right?

And the end of the road, for now. It feels... weird now that I have ALL FOUR task slots to fill up but it'll be a great boon when grinding out those kudos tasks! I'm not quite done yet with TTCC and I don't think I will be for a while, after all, I have drops to collect, suits to perfect, departments to experience fully, and a couple other stuff left unfinished.

I will say that I absolutely enjoyed my time in Toontown Corporate Clash and I wish the team good luck as they push onwards because this is probably the most polished Toontown experience I've ever... erm... experienced.

[mutant-male-lee]

Ticklish Reavy F/M Chain RP Packaged

https://www.deviantart.com/reaverpan/art/Ticklish-Reavy-F-M-Chain-RP-Packaged-1012696068 You can still simply offer to just role play with me one on one. But if you'd like to not only try the Chain RP idea but actualy have others involves with you to pull it off then using this image in Note is a great way to send the message across that more than one people are invoves in this in notes. Or if your more into something like say Discord, I have a server you could make use of instead where I am the only TickLEE and always needing new members. discord.gg/Hhe8k52f Ofcourse the link won't work forever I know so send me a friend request if you like to ReaverPan#9098 I'm also on tUMBLER BUT NOT SURE HOW that would work ^^;

So your propbably wondering what's even going on in this image? If you haven't guessed already. Well we're have Your's truely's Personal Reaver Pan in his Wolfboy form all nice and wrapped up like a present in a full body rubber straight jacket lined with tickle devices inside the suit to keep him from being able to rest. Even the straps are held down by cables that disapear underneath whatever that stuff it is that is stuffed in the Crate with Reaver himself/Myself. Most likely it's cotton or stuffing or whatever you fill packages with to keep the frgile cargo from getting hurt. Reaver even has his feet firmly tied in all manor of ways and vibators tied to bottoms. he can't even kick around cause his legs aree bound in a folding position. The crate most likey has a ventualation devices to help Reaver brieth since it's also likely sound prooth ...unles you'd rather get to hear his muffle sounds from outside the crate?~ Oh and the Tank, that thing is full of Gene Nerf, it's essential for keeping Reaver nice and powerless. No super strnegth, no Pesky Sonic Howl, healing abilites may still work but at at alow level so no limb regeration. No shapeshifting or transforming. Basicly no useing super powers to escape ,just a helples Wolf boy awaiting arrival to the next stop to be taken out by his next Mitress to have her way with him. Not sure how he is/ I am getting deliveres around without being intercepted by the authorities but most likely, you probabaly found a way to get me around or get your hands on me somehow ;3 Not sure how I even wind up in this situation, that is up to you. You will have to no doubt arange it and if others are involved one of you will have the job of making it easier for the others by being the ones to prepare me for this long ticklishtormentes exchange. First person catches me and then when they had their fun they note the next person and have that person Note me directly to have their turn next.

If Your an Artist however you can still engage in the fun~ If your an artist and would like to simply draw Reaver Pan in a ticklish sitation and love the idea of him winding up in the clutches ofa Mistress to torture then you can contact me and ask my permission, but it's real easy actualy. Just link and refrenc this image right here as well have a link to me and let people know this is my Persona. When you get done you can even have this exchange with other Artsists...so long as they remember to refrence me and let people know this is my Persona. Also i'D LIKE you to consult me first before drawing me with just whoever.It is me in away after all ^^;

Ok so what if you can't role play or do Art....but still want in...hmmm...Do you Write? If you'd like to do a fanfic about me then I could allow it, but i WOULD NEED to proof Read your work to make sure you catch my charecter right ^^; Music for mood Because I always do this XD: 1. youtu.be/QX9UOr121Mk?list=PL2W… Slavic Energy 2.youtu.be/FOSOcDvbcyc?list=PL2W… Night of the Werewolf 3.youtu.be/iDDc3WTBmsE?list=PL2W… Tickle Factory/ Post Office 4.youtu.be/p7Ry82zkJOQ?list=PL2W… Postage Stampe/PopQuiz!~ 5.youtu.be/aHhBr8Jgw8c Once Upon a Time 6.youtu.be/ALhYMKEduLE Goth's Mailbox 7.youtu.be/1puiwflWc_s Weller Women 8.youtu.be/_cK-ySp0HP4 Irish ETERNAL BLISS! 9.youtu.be/Rp7z2oII-ZI Germanic Campf 10.youtu.be/pRorgqSTSGQ Got yah Pan! 11.youtu.be/m1uqfoyqBS8 Drip DDD 12.youtu.be/cu9EYHjohp0 pANZUR Katyusha 13.youtu.be/8xCCis6bpPE The Spiral 14.youtu.be/NBoKTTNVuAc How the Mighty have Fallen!~ 15.youtu.be/d5Uf7SC-tTg Second Coming 16.youtu.be/Jd11oWgBM-8 Well Look what the Cat dragged in~ / Unpackaging 17.youtu.be/iwbG2wTuURc What an Arabian Night 18.youtu.be/3hPXgqmmItQ At a Place No one Knows 19.youtu.be/HQHppCv2m_E Prisoner of the Mansion 20.youtu.be/2wbRMT6fanw Her Great Crusade 21.youtu.be/qL60MoerJuw Cow Girl's fun 22.youtu.be/AFoWM83g-KY All Wrapped up in Ejypt 23.youtu.be/qMDcw2ZhnKM Wait wahahait I cahahan't Brieth!/ Friendlty fire? 24.youtu.be/hPZm4Px-zYg Dee Dee Defeat! 25.youtu.be/5W_bFLwB0WY Spirit Tracks 26.youtu.be/JCdJm1j2uYw M.A.D. house 27.youtu.be/zdTVDJbffZQ Dead serias 28.youtu.be/9TYKqvCZoyY Seems normal to me~ 29.youtu.be/iRNcsaplYi8 Fire Fly Come back to me 30.youtu.be/Y2fpMRWODwU?list=PL2W… Cutie Honey 31.youtu.be/a1YWFXBUrRA?list=PL2W… What The?!/ All your life you've been good but now? 32.youtu.be/a9mTOr0uL2g?list=PL2W… brain Scrap Zone 33.youtu.be/pYCNoZQtOXo?list=PL2W… WAIT AM I in a renosaunce fair? 34.youtu.be/04odl3mbVjw?list=PL2W… Esikaid? or just in some old fashion Tavern? 35.youtu.be/dxkH6jlBnFM Trapped by the Chain RP >:3/ The Cycle Starts? 36.youtu.be/wDgQdr8ZkTw Readt for a Bad Time~ 37.youtu.be/79bW5_e98vQ Gargoyls Orchistrated 38.youtu.be/IvfM7rS6YBI A Woman Scorned/ What is Love Baby don't hurt me! 39.youtu.be/B9NBl0IJ5TI Snake SNAKE SNAAAAAAAKE!!! / Espenioge 40.youtu.be/bVhJgWHOC14 The Masecur was never forgiven 41.youtu.be/1tcX7U3ZOL4 Cruel Baby Talk 42.youtu.be/PbRpgxjnIy0 tHE Music Box 43.youtu.be/Q0RYCmPuZlo kidnapped and Shipped 44.youtu.be/ks3DUf4Emog Swinging Casino vibes 45.youtu.be/2SKhLEpTxNA Cower and Basce! 46.youtu.be/rT_Um174guo London Bridges Falling Down my Dear Reavy~ 47.youtu.be/4_Mct1I3eNw Are you coming to the Tree? 48.youtu.be/RLnpI1GLrfI Latina 49.youtu.be/IwVWrR6Ptxg Seferoth 50.youtu.be/l3JOuCkc0Gg A Punk's Conquest 51.youtu.be/9mb8PyPnO9Y?list=PL2W… It is Decreed! 52.youtu.be/oBgewU_Jia0?list=PL2W… 99 Desire 53.youtu.be/vasfVmwG5IA?list=PL2W… Like what I see/ soft and Flirty 54.youtu.be/b597bTEP09c?list=PL2W… Had my Fun, SomeoneElse Awaits you now. 55.youtu.be/C2RK5qeDLUY?list=PL2W… Cute Spidery fingers 56.youtu.be/0Pq0W2DaL-0 Cause I'm the Boss 57.youtu.be/xPfMb50dsOk Discord I'm Howling at the Moon and Sleeping in the Middle of a Summer Afternoon. 58.youtu.be/S2LtvUJvWsU Now your in My Parlor!~~ 59youtu.be/5n9FWGUm2pc Straight up Villian 60.youtu.be/-qqGX18RTgY Evil Grows 61.youtu.be/3Jt0Xxgt8yc?list=PL2W… bLUMEbEAR 62.youtu.be/5IR7erAKCXA?list=PL2W… The Evil 2 63.youtu.be/eEf8vATd_6s?list=PL2W… Under Fell 64.youtu.be/OlYqw4Kkvj8?list=PL2W… Sacrifices must be made 65.youtu.be/8dgEOYcxSYU?list=PL2W… Interigation

I'd list more but it's getting late. hope you guys have fun atleast.

[theshelbyclan]

Kings of Camden

Summary: Alfie dares you to be more brave, so you decide to show him just how bold you can be

(Gif by @mensource)

A/N: I love this idea so much!! anon requested: Looking at a gif of Alfie just now I realized he has a crown tattoo on his hand and I have one on my wrist and now I can’t stop thinking about Alfie’s reaction if you ever got the same tattoo as him and surprised him w it. 😩😩I saw that you’re requests were open and just HAD to give this idea to someone. AHH I love that you have this tattoo and I’m kinda jealous and may or may not have pondered getting one myself… Anyways, I hope you like what I did with this, even though it’s short, and thank you again for being this awesome Words: 1534 ***

“Truth or dare?” He stroked his beard pensively, “There’s no such thing, though, love. Truth is such a relative concept, right, and it’s made up by people, innit? And if it’s made up by people…” You interrupted him with a sigh, “Play the fucking game, Alfie. Truth or dare?”

“Where do you even pick up these fucking games? I mean, I was in the boy scouts, just like any other decent man, and even we didn’t play fucking truth or dare…” You fixed him with a dark stare. Also, you were quite certain that Alfie Solomons had never been a boy scout, even though the thought did tickle you.

“Right,” he decided, “Dare it is.”

You clapped your hands in excitement, “I dare you to kiss Ollie!” “For fuck’s sake.” “Go on,” you urged, practically giggling with glee, “you have to!” Alfie threw his head back in mock despair, “Woman, you’ve bloody done it now, ain’t you. I’m through with you, I really fucking am, because this is no longer a game, but it has now turned into some heathen ritual of humiliation…” “Stop putting it off. Ollie’s cute and you know it.” “He is, ain’t he,” Alfie mumbled almost lovingly, “Alright then,” and he bellowed, “Ollie! Come here for a minute, mate.”

Ollie stumbled in with his usual look of bewilderment on his face, “What, Alfie?” “Come here,” Alfie motioned, “won’t hurt you, I promise, go one, come here…” It was clear that the Jewish boy grew suspicious, but still he approached. And without any warning, Alfie suddenly planted a quick kiss on his lips, and pulling away just as quick with the biggest smile on his face. Ollie, on the other hand, yelped like a little girl. “You can go now,” Alfie motioned with a hand. And quick as lightning, Ollie was gone. “Poor Ollie,” you laughed out loud. “He’s alright,” your smug friend commented, “should be used to it by now…”

And this what you and Alfie Solomons were like together: always playing. Except when you weren’t, when one of you was hurt or threatened, you tore down kingdoms for each other. There couldn’t be one without the other, ever since you were kids. You and him, against the world. And you had never loved anyone more than him.

***

On your way to the shops, you were singing a little to yourself. Your shift had ended early, because of an accident at the factory, and you had suddenly found yourself with some extra time on your hands. Alfie hated you working, didn’t think it fitting for his girl, but still he knew better than to challenge you on it.

On your way, you thought about something Alfie had said to you. Apart from playing these games with him, he said you always played it safe. That you cared too much about what other people thought. And it had irritated you that he thought so, mainly because you knew he was right. You did as people expected of you, except when you were with him. It was like you only dared to be adventurous when you were with him, and no one else was allowed to see that side of you. Maybe it was time to show the world how bold you could really be. So you whispered to yourself, “Truth or dare…” And your mind, suddenly aroused with excitement, told you: dare! And you asked the first sailor you came across, because he was bound to know. Quickly, before you could change your mind, you decided you were going to do something that really, really scared you, just to show Alfie you could be brave too. About an hour later, you were standing outside the tattoo shop again. It had taken them some convincing, but eventually the artist had agreed. Adrenaline still pumping, you looked at your new ink, shining brightly on your wrist. You smiled at yourself, proud of what you’d just done. And then you hurried to show Alfie. But on your way, fear started flooding you. What if he didn’t like it? Maybe he’d tell you’d been an idiot? And what if you two wouldn’t be together forever? Then this new tattoo would look stupid! And, most of all, what would people say? You suddenly envisioned your life as an outcast of society and it wasn’t a great image… You found Alfie at his bakery, who greeted you with his usual, “Hello, love!” You didn’t reply, because for the life of you, you couldn’t find the words. “What’s happened?” he demanded, serious at once, “I’ll fucking kill them.” “Nothing,” you stuttered, “I just think I’ve made a mistake, Alfie…” “No, you haven’t,” he seemed absolutely certain, “you’re the smart one, ain’t you, sweetheart, you think things through. You plan and scrutinize and organize and strategize…” “Not when I’m with you,” you interrupted. Alfie grinned, “And I like it that way.” You showed him your tattoo of a crown, identical to the one he had on his hand. For a moment, Alfie seemed lost for words. “I know,” you said, utterly defeated. And then he burst out laughing, loud and high-pitched, “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck have you done to my Y/N? Because this, this isn’t you, right?” “I dared myself.” “You fucking dared yourself… like the devil in de desert, yeah?” “If you’re the devil, then, yeah,” you could smile a little already. Alfie always managed to cheer you up somehow. He took your wrist in his hand and studied the tattoo, “That’s gorgeous, that is,” the verdict finally came.

“You really think so?” “Yeah!”, he called out, “That is brilliant, it really is, sweetheart, because you know what? It just so happens to be, right, that I’ve got one on my hand that is quite similar to that one. Who would’ve thought, eh?” You grinned. Alfie was silent for a bit and then said, “You’re staying with me tonight, sweetheart.” “Am I?” “Be bold,” he challenged, “you know you can now.” You knew you’d stay. You always would. “You got a tattoo of a fucking crown,” he mused out loud, “just like that. Now that shows some fucking balls, doesn’t it,” he continued talking to himself as he walked away, “and she dared herself, imagine that!” And then he called over his shoulder, “Didn’t think it possible, but I think I love you even more now, darling!”

***

At night, even London was quiet. When you were kids, you used to sneak out of your homes to meet up and you’d wreak havoc wherever you went. When you got a little older, you still snuck out, but tried to attract as little attention as you could. By the docks you’d find each other and in the dark, you became intertwined in every way possible. Ever since, the nights were yours. During the day, others could expect things of you and demand your attention, but at night, you’d always come back to each other. And so here you were, lying together in the dark, in a world entirely of your own.

“Truth or dare, baby,” you said, softly. “Truth.” Pausing for a moment, you asked, almost shy, “Do you really love me?” He grinned deeply, “Nah, it was my turn, wasn’t it?” “Cheat,” you grumbled, knowing he was right, “Fine, but you better answer me after mine is done.” “Truth or dare?” Alfie said triumphantly. “Truth.”

He pretended to think about it for a long time, “How about you come live with me, permanently?” You furrowed your brows, “What do you mean?”

“You know, right here, in Camden. Or we could move to someplace quiet, if that suits you better, although quiet and peaceful might be the last words I associate with you if I’m being perfectly honest… I’ve always loved the quiet little place by the name of Margate… But wherever you want, sweetheart, you tell me and I’ll make it happen. Tear down the whole of fucking London for you. Just you and me,” he waved his hands elaborately. And when you didn’t react, he added, “I’m asking you to marry me, sweetheart!” “Ooh…” your eyes widened, as you suddenly understood, “are you sure though?” “Course I am. “Wait!” you suddenly called out, “What about Edna?” Alfie frowned, “Who?” “Someone said you were married to a woman named Edna?” “Someone’s been telling fucking lies, haven’t they, because obviously I’m not married to some shikse named Edna.”

You smiled and looked deeply into the eyes of the man you loved. It was strange how he could be so terrifying, how people flinched when they heard him speak, because he sounded either mad or simply dangerous, and how people were put off by his appearance. But when you looked at him, like really looked at him, you only saw this utter and complete softness. “Yeah, I’ll marry you, Alfie.” “You can be my queen then,” he said gently, puppy-dog eyes staring at you, devoted, “with a crown to match.” You smiled cheekily, “You can be queen and I’ll be the king.” “Fine, we’ll both be kings. You and me. ”

And when you snuggled closer to him, Alfie knew you were finally satisfied.

*** Masterlist