HAPPY 66TH ANNIVERSARY TO HANNA-BARBERA

Shows 1977 to 1978

Laff-a-Lympics // Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels // CB Bears // Blast-Off Buzzard // Posse Impossible // Heyyy It's the King // Undercover Elephant // Shake Rattle and Roll / Skatebirds // Yogi's Space Race

Watch For Flash Floods (1977)

Can you just imagine ...

Blast-Off Buzzard, in his pursuit of Crazylegs, being distracted by the bright Day-Glo design of The Mystery Machine on an isolated stretch of Classic Route 66 so as to lose track?

(Or, for that matter, The Banana Buggies of The Banana Splits on a desert scramble ... The Invisible Motorcycle of the Hair Bear Bunch ... maybe even Son of Gashopper, the second generation tour bus of the Cattanooga Cats.)

Here’s the thing. It wasn’t really Lizzie’s spine.

What was a man supposed to do? Lizzie had died in the end dimension, for goodness sake, walked off the edge. There is no bottom of the end, no body to collect. So Scar had to improvise.

His task had said to become the villain of the server. Scar had read it with a heavy heart, surrounded by his loneliness already. He’d been chased, stolen from, slashed at, left. And he’d tried so hard to be nice and friendly. By all means he should become the villain of the server. Grief, steal, make enemies. But he was so tired, so sick of the unfriendly silence that surrounded him all the time.

But Scar had tried, he really did. He burnt the heart foundation to the ground, watched that happy face melt off its oh-so-flammable head. He roasted anyone who passed, and their enchanting setups. He shot at anyone who made a pass at him. But it all felt stiff and cold, practiced movements of a wind-up doll that just did the same thing over and over again. There was no bloodthirsty joy in this, just that dreadful knowledge that his task was driving him further from people he wanted to love him.

Looking back, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly drove him to the idea of selling Lizzie’s spine to her grieving husband Joel. Maybe it was that desperation for anything that would make him feel alive again, or the pressure of the task looming over him telling him he hadn’t done enough. But no matter the origin, the ending was the same. Scar was standing in front of the simple gravestone of Jimmy Solidarity, shovel in hand.

The dirt was fresh still, easy to slide his shovel into. Lizzie and Jimmy and Mumbo had all died in rather quick succession only a few days ago, and it had been quite the convenience that a grave had already been dug for one of them. Lizzie would have been first choice, obviously, but the only thing left of her was her house. Mumbo had been lovingly taken away by the mounders and placed somewhere in their walls, so Jimmy was the obvious choice. No one would notice any change to the grave anyway- Jimmy had been dead in the eyes of most of the people here even before he’d been killed.

Scar worked with a single-minded focus, channeling all the terror and the loneliness he’d felt in this damn world into his frenzied digging. He didn’t hide what he was doing- at this point, no one would even come near him. He’d shoot them if they did.

His shovel hit wood, and he grinned. Something was beginning to stir within him, finally, finally. He’d tried so hard to be good and polite and fair. And where had it gotten him- well, to Jimmy’s grave, mostly.

He cracked the lid.

There was already some sag and rot to the peaceful face of Jimmy Solidarity. Physically, he’d been unharmed by the warden’s sonic blast that had ended his life for good- the harm was all to do with the brain and all that. Scar wasn’t a scientist, just a buzzard, and all he cared about was the spine.

It took a fair amount of grunting and strength to flip Jimmy’s body over, and he certainly wasn’t helping. Dead weight and all.

“Listen, Jimmy, it’s for the best, you know.” Scar said, taking out the dagger he’d crafted only a few hours ago. “You’re not doing anyone any good by just lying here, and I have profits to make. No hard feelings, bud.”

He sliced down, just kind of guessing at where he’d meet tissue and fat instead of ricocheting off of bone. It was messy, messy work, as Scar carved away at Jimmy’s back. But he got there eventually, the bright shine of bloody bone within the mound of meat. Scar had to hack at various connective tissue and bone to pry the spine free, and boy was he winded, but finally, finally, he felt the low heat of gritty joy as he held the bone structure in his hand.

“Thank you Jimmy.” Scar leaned down, pressed a kiss to what used to be Jimmy’s lower back. His face came away wet, and he licked his lips.

Scar kicked the dirt back onto the grave after he pulled himself out of it, messy and quick-like. No one would notice, no one would care. They’d all be dead soon anyway. Scar had only one thing on his mind now, and it was to profit from this endeavor. He wondered how many diamonds Joel would be willing to trade for this, how many riches he would get from the secret keeper for this task complete.

“Joel!” Scar called, waving as he made his way up the hill to Joel’s place- a fairground of sorts, a real nice place to get dizzy at.

“Hey fella- woah, what on earth happened to you?” Joel’s mouth fell open as he took in Scar’s appearance.

“Oh, have you not seen my outfit yet? Look at my butt, there’s sunflowers on it.” Scar said, turning slowly in place.

“No, I’ve seen that… Scar, you’re covered in blood! And dirt!” Joel exclaimed. “How- you’re not even red, surely you’re not-”

“Joel, my good friend, have I got a deal for you!” Scar interrupted, giving Joel a hearty slap on the back (he heard the tick of half a heart of damage taken). “I have Lizzie’s spine, and I was wondering what you would trade me for it?”

He pulled the spine from his bag, red and white glistening in the sunlight. It hung limply like a dead snake from his open palm. Joel’s eyes widened, and he took a step backwards.

“I don’t really want it.”

He knows, something whispered in Scar’s head.

“Oh, sure you do! A memory of your wife, so sadly taken from us, rest her soul.” Scar purred, putting a hand to his heart. He stepped closer after a moment of silence, the spine swinging in his hand. There was blood on his shoes.

“I- fine, just look in my chests, take whatever you want.” Joel rasped, a hand on the doorframe of his house. He kept stepping away from Scar, eyes darting from him to the bone in his hand. Joel was scared, deliciously so.

“Fantastic!” Scar said brightly, taking a few things from the chests and tossing the spine in Joel’s direction. “Thank you so much for doing business, Joel. Enjoy your wife! Or, a piece of her, anyway.”

He left, not waiting for any kind of response from Joel. His heart was pounding, and perhaps for the first time this whole season, he felt alive.

QQ Couples Quiz

Pairing: Rapper Aran Ojiro x Black Reader

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content, use of N word, fluff

A/N: it’s been so long and this been sitting in my drafts for about two years. I need it gone! This was inspired by Teyana Taylor & Iman Shrumpet’s video. This is also a short chapter from my story abt Rapper Aran and Black Reader. Enjoy lol.

“Hey GQ, it’s y/n here, with my favorite person everr.” You look to him so he can introduce himself. “Aran Ojiro, top tog” he threw gang signs up and you guys laughed together.

You guys are sitting in an illuminated room, with two spinning chairs and the GQ producers and crew members were all doing their role and laughing a little too.

“first question, besides you, who’s my celebrity crush.” you smirked.

“Brent Faiyez. Easy.” He said rolling his eyes. The women on the set all laughed cause they know Brent fine asf. He went on to tell a short story about how you fan girled when you met him.

“Oh you don’t know this one…” you read over the next question.

“man hit me.” he smacked his teeth.

“how many tattoos do I have?” you giggled, you could already tell he was bout to say some outta pocket shit.

“girl my mouth been on every part of yo body and you think I don’t know how many tattoos you have?” He looked confused.

You looked to the producers and asked if you could curse and they said yes, it’s fine.

“nigga stop stalling and answer the question.”

“the heart behind your ear, the butterflies on your rib cage, your birthday in Roman numerals on your shoulder, and our lil secret on your index finger.”

“show off. what’s my favorite color?”

“easyyy. pink”

“the first movie we watched together?”

“aw man. after the BET awards, you made me watch every marvel movie ever made. but we started from the beginning so iron man.”

“stop acting like you didn’t like it. What’s something on my bucket list?” you scooted your chair closer to him to look him in the eye. he pecked your lips sense you were so close.

you laughed and backed up. “To do a song with Nicki Minaj.”

“Yesss. If you know me, you know I’m a huge Nicki fan.” He looked into to camera and rolled his eyes.

“How you know when I’m mad at you?” You laughed. You never really got mad at him unless he ate your food.

“You blast breakup music in my house.” He mean mugged you.

“that is not true.” you made a buzzard noise.

“What color are my eyes?” You asked next.

“psh. That’s easy bro. Brown.” He responded.

“You right that was an easy question.. let me see.” You looked through the cards for a harder question to ask him.

“I know you.” He laughed taking a sip of the water while he waited.

“If I wasn’t a singer, what would I be?”

“Damn, an.. Athletic Trainer” he smiled knowing he got it right.

“Oh my god. If you know me, you know I got a full ride scholarship to Clark Atl for that. But I chose to pursue my music with the help of my daddy”

“Shout out to pops. The real og.” He winked.

“Boy my daddy don’t even like you.” You pushed.

“That’s cause he don’t know me! I bet he’ll like me more than he like you.” He held his hand out for you to shake.

“How much?” You asked before you shook his hand.

“$20”

“Boy I am not betting you $20. Get out my face.” You pushed his hand away and everyone laughed.

“Ok, last question. What is my favorite song by you?” You smiled while hiding your face with the cards.

“Released or Unreleased?” He asked knowing that you know all his songs.

“It don’t matter.”

“Prada U. Only because it’s about you though.”

“All your love songs better be about me.” You threatened. To which he threw his hands up and said they are.

“Aye, thank yall for watching our GQ Couples Quiz. It’s been fun.” He said laughing and looking at the camera.

“I like you,” Heisenberg’s disembodied voice hummed, droning off into a soft, smooth rumble. “So aimless and unsure of yourself, like a little bird that just left a nest. And yet, you fly to mine of all places. I thought you a canary, maybe a pesky woodpecker--but no. I hate to say it, but I underestimated you, Ethan Winters; for that, I’d like to sincerely apologize. You're a hawk. Just like me. I suppose birds of a feather really do flock together, don't they?”

'Here we go,' Ethan thought to himself. 'Trying to get on my good side… Again. Persistent, like a buzzard.'

With a harsh, grating buzz, the factory doors tugged open–the grinding chugs of machines displaced the easy wisping winds outside.

“I’d like to speak with you about Rose… And Miranda. Oh, come on in–and don’t worry. It’s not a trap…”

Based on AshenGreywolf's fic, Souvenirs! Having a blast with the bird motif and can't stop writing or thinking about these silly geese.

Come Hel or High Lord: Ch 6

Chapter 6: Buzzards and Banter

Words: 3600

Reminder: This is a crossover between all SJM series. So spoilers for TOG, ACOTAR, and CC

Summary:

Aelin is that bitch ... that is all.

Snippet below the cut. Read on Ao3

“I tried to get her to rest 2 hours ago and she refuses to stop.” Adeion continued. “I was afraid that she had been nearing a burn out an hour ago but…” Aedion had his attention now, Rowan sliced an iced edged stare in his direction. “But what?” Continuing to monitor the fight below, Aedion didn’t meet his eyes. “She- I don’t know. It was as if she reached that burn out, the bottom of her well of power, and punched a hole through it just so she could keep going.”  “That’s not possible.” Rowan let his breath stream slowly from his nose in an effort to calm himself.  If he didn’t approach her correctly, she would never listen to him. As it was, Aelin had abandoned Aedion’s help and advice in favor of the more indulgent members of her court. He was going to have to have a talk with Fenrys.  Fine, if she wanted a challenge, she would get it.  He cracked his neck on one side, then the other, a growl rumbling low in his chest as a very Fae smile etched itself into the corners of his mouth. On silent feet, Rowan crept backwards a few paces before springing forward and vaulting himself off the balcony they had been perched on. There was a flash of light and he soared on near silent wings toward her back, sending a gust of wind towards her. When it was only a handful of inches from knocking her on her ass, a wall of fire rose up to meet it, sending Rowan pulling up high into the sky, screeching. He dove straight down, angling at the top of her head. He veered swiftly to the right then the left as arrows of fire shot up towards him. Aelin hadn’t moved from her position but her two sparring partners had discreetly seen themselves out.  Using a great blast of wind to slow his fall, Rowan shifted again, landing hard on his feet directly in front of her, panting, smiling.  A wicked grin crossed her face, “Came to play?” 

This is a cross over fic so a giant cast of characters and a big stupid storyline but Azris is my main bitch in this fic so ...Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi

MIWIP WEDNESDAY

There is canon fire, and the crack of a Springfield musket, the sound of it tearing through the sky over his head like lightning. William Byers snaps his face to the sky and squints, his shoulders cowering and his hands shielding his head from the fallout. Smoke billows up into the dark clouds, and a storm rolls heavy on the horizon. It’s turned the air humid and thick and the threat of rain has left an uneasiness burrowing inside his fellow soldiers crouched in the trench. Will sees it in the shakiness of their hands as they hold their cigarettes to their lips, in the way they clench the letters from their loved ones in their fists, in how their eyes turn dead and distant as their commanding officer rattles off orders. 

Thunder rumbles again and Will squints again at the mass of black clouds, his vision turning blurry, swearing for only a second that it’s not a storm, but a monster from his nightmares come to life that’s making its way towards his unit, the 37th Regiment Indiana Infantry. It twists and turns and Will’s eyes widen when he swears he sees a black face staring back at him, its massive limbs long and spindly like a giant spider. Then there’s another heavy blast that sprays dirt and gravel over their heads. Will’s heart clenches in his chest and he ducks tight to the earth, praying to God he might stay safe. He brings his knees to his chest like a child sleeping and screws his eyes shut, rocking his body and whispering some lost prayer song his mother used to sing into his ear when he was just a babe asleep at her breast as she rocked him in the strong wooden chair his father had made for her. The only act of love the drunk had ever shown them. 

And then Will thinks of his best friend. Black eyes and hair, freckles, and a smile that lit his face up like a summer’s afternoon. So alive! Same as the buzzards that whipped around the lake where they used to swim as youths with the other neighborhood boys, more than half of them dead and gone by now. Most of them never quite successful in shedding their childhood before being claimed by Death, who greedily put them in the ground before it was natural. 

Mike is here, he thinks horribly, breath coming in rapid breaths and staring up at the sky. He flinches when a raindrop kisses his face. One drop then two, and then a thousand. The rain falls in a giant wall of steady sound, immediately drowning him and his fellow soldiers in a sea of mud. 

Will sputters and thinks of his friend again, and the last letter he’d received that informed him he’d be arriving with his regiment in the next week or so. That should have been yesterday. He reaches for his letters he has fastened to his hip and pulls them out, unraveling them from their leather binding and revealing the tintype he’s kept safe since he left the valley he grew up in. They’re in their uniforms, and Mike’s standing behind him, hand on his shoulder and his expression serious. Eyes as black as the obsidian he'd seen once at the bottom of a cliff when he traveled West when he was a child. Beautiful and dark. A complete mystery to him.

And promised to another.

The Knights Pet

Chapter Eight

Vicruls POV

The girl sat silent, staring with a displeased scowl down at her shoes as she leaned into my side. We were due to arrive on Prine at any moment and my brothers where buzzing in anticipation, thirsty for the blood of the resistance. There was an eery silence that had fallen over the ship, the girl seemed to notice, her eyes darting from knight to knight as she patiently waited to land.

Her hands gripped the fabric of my robes as the night buzzard came to a halt, the movement jerking her a bit as she wasn't used to it. We all stood, gathering in formation behind ren. The girl scurried into the line, placing herself between me and Trudgen.

As we made our way down the ramp of the ship smoke took over my senses, people ran, screaming as they went in a pathetic attempt to get away. The sound of the stormtroopers blasters firing echoed through the air, the sound making the girl flinch as she took in her surrounding. A hesitant look crept over her features as she followed, staying as close to Trudgen as she could get without touching him.

"Find there general, I know he's here somewhere." Ren boomed, his gaze searching across the crowds of people as he tried to locate him. "Yes ren" we spoke in unison, splitting up as we started our search. Ap'lek and I started off towards what looked to be there headquarters, watching as resistance fighters attempted the guard it's entrance, how brave, how stupid.

The girl rushed after us, seeming confused as to where she was supposed to go. "Come, pet. Let us show you the power of the first order." Ap'lek chuckled, his voice dripping with wickedness. Before the first guard got the chance to make a move he was cut down by Ap'leks axe, the sound of the weapon meeting flesh a satisfying slice.

He pushed the dismembered body out of his way with his foot, making his way inside where everyone scattered. We both got to work, taking out everyone we could catch, not that there was really anywhere for them to run. I took in the euphoria off the hunt, grunting in satisfaction as I cut down the resistance scum one by one, the feeling of power pulsing through me with every life I took.

I heard the sound of a struggle behind me and whipped around, worried that my poor pet had been caught in the crossfire of the chaos. To my surprise I found her holding a blade to the throat on a man about twice her size. It was clear he had initiated the fight, blood dripping down her face from a fresh cut on her cheek bone. She grunted in annoyance as he struggled against her hold, digging the weapon deeper into his jugular as a warning.

I smirked beneath my mask, so she wasn't as helpless as I had once thought. "Finish him, pet. Show him your power." I commanded. Seeming to understand she nodded, gripping the man tightly as she pulled the blade across his neck, red liquid spilling from his wound soaking his clothing and her hands. She let go of him stumbling away from his limp body as she watch his carcass hit the floor. I had never been more attracted to anyone in my life.

A group of 4 men surrounded her, seeming to be very upset about there fallen brother. I thought about intervening but decided against it, thinking it best to allow the girl to prove herself. She crouched, her stance making it clear that she wasn't afraid, that she would do whatever she needed to survive. The first lunged in her direction, his movements quick but sloppy as she dodged his grasp.

The already bloody blade sliced into the flesh of his arm earning a hiss from her opponent. This only seemed to anger him. I watched, ready to step on at any moment as the man pulled a blaster from the waistband of his pants. She ducked, throwing herself into his legs, tackling him to the ground, prying the gun from his hands before he got the chance to fight back. She fired the weapon once, the blast going straight through his head.

Standing from over his body she turned and fired again, a direct hit to the chest of his co-conspirator before discarding the gun. She grunted as someone grabbed her around the torso from behind, dragging her backwards as she dug her heels into the ground. She threw her elbow back, hitting the man's nose with a booming crack before she stabbed the vibro-blade onto his thigh. A scream of pain broke through the air, the sound bringing a smile to my face.

She pulled the blade free, stabbing it backwards again over and over until she felt the man's grip on her go slack. She turned to face him, shoving him away from her watching as he toppled over, doing his best to put pressure on his gushing wounds. He would surly die any moment.

The last man backed away, terror in his eyes as he realized his fate. She stalked her way over to him, her chest heaving from all the commotion. Before he got the chance to move away she stabbed deep into his torso, twisting the blade with all of her forced as she stared into his eyes. The man coughed, blood spilling from his lips and down his chin as he slumped against the wall.

"Who are you?" He spoke weakly, wincing as she kneeled in-front of him. She shooshed him sweetly, a hard contrast from the aggression she had just shown, caressing his face with her hand as she eased him mercifully into his death. Even in her defense she was kind, how strange. "I sorry" she whispered to him, watching as the life faded from his eyes.

She stood and tossed the blade, turning to face me, her face smeared with blood and dirt from her victims. She turned scanning the room for anymore threats, her shoulders dropping in exhaustion as she realized she was done. I was proud, confused as to how she was such a skilled fighter but proud non the less.

"There you are." Ap'lek boomed, the sound of his voice catching mine and the girls attention. He took harsh hold of a man who had been hiding behind a stack of boxes that held parts for there ships. He dragging him roughly along at his side as he went to find Ren. "The supreme leader will be pleased to see you general."

Everyone, meet Patch! My first Earthspark OC! He was born today XD

Patch was just a regular scarecrow out in some farmer's field one night, doing what scarecrows do, when a sudden blast of green energy washed over the land. Suddenly he could think, he could move, and he decided to- rather than simply waiting for the crows to come to him- he would seek out the tiny buzzards and show them what for! This eventually led him to the Malto Farm, where he ran into "The biggest darn crow Ah've ever seen!" (Nightshade) and the two engaged in a little tussle before the others came out and sorted the whole thing.

Patch is young and a very curious sort, however he has an innate hatred for birds, (Nightshade being an exception after their first meeting) and is quite proficient with his pitchfork, which was also imbued with some energon-based power and can produce bolts of energy out of the end. He twirls it and throws it like a javelin at foes, mostly birds he thinks get too close, but he is still a SCAREcrow, not a FIGHTcrow, and prefers to merely frighten off his opponents rather than actually take them down.

The Autobots have no idea how he came to life, but he helps protect the Maltos, and so they leave him to his task.

Honestly, never thought we would have made it this far. Figured we were all doomed, that our deaths would have come weeks ago. Somehow, though, the days ticked by without any diseased buzzards dropping on our heads or a cancerous mass devouring the whole base. The world is in shambles, that is still very much true. What communications we got over the miserable days have been lonely cries in the dark and desperate pleas for help. Both were equally depressing, as there was just nothing to be done. There are countless people out there seeking refuge, as their homes have been trampled by the titans, but where could they go? The great abominations go where they please, and it is only a matter of time before some super-heated worm decides to burrow through your new home. For those calling for aid, who will come for them? No military force even really exists anymore, as everything we have has been burned and destroyed in our attempts to slay even one of these titans. What medical supplies and food still remains is hoarded by those who have them, seeing no point in sharing when there is no guarantee of getting more. We once had the power to do something about this, but those days are long gone. After all, it was our might and genius that caused this whole mess. All we ever did was kill one giant leviathan and unleash its mutagenic blood upon the world. The plague of A.N.A is all our fault, and it seemed we would never get the chance to redeem ourselves. All we could do was sit in our crumbling base and wait for the end. Fate is truly an odd thing, no one knows how the die will roll. We all thought our time was up, that hope was a thing of the past. The people who stayed here only did so because they had nowhere else to go, the researchers kept working because that was the only thing left to do besides die. Our useless band of folk were more like squatters then heroes, preferring some place warm and lit before a giant spike ball crushed us in its migration. Some time ago, there was the foolish belief that A.N.A. had a secret for us to discover. Some kind of weakness we could exploit and finally put her children to rest. Our research gave us nothing, and in some cases it just made more monstrosities. The few scientists who stuck around toyed with our last samples to keep themselves distracted, and to satiate their own curiosities before death claimed them. No one expected any breakthroughs or miracles. What would we do with one even if we got it? Even if we discovered a weapon that could be used against the titans, who would wield it? Every country had pretty much sealed their borders and now pray for the titans to walk the other way. There is no squadron of jet fighters to blast the monsters to smithereens with our new miracle weapon. No platoon of brave soldiers to carry the super bomb that will evaporate our nightmares for good. All our weapons our gone, all our warriors have fled to home. Calls to action have grown silent, while we now just get messages of desperation and loss. We offered what comforting words we could, but little else. Our own supplies were dwindling, and it was only a matter of time before one of the titans finally walked our way. We had nothing. That became even more apparent when one of our labs exploded on accident. One of the researchers broke down during their futile studies and pretty much trashed the lab. Their frenzy set something off and the place went up. We extinguished the flames and boarded up the holes the best we could, and pretty much left it at that. No one really even blamed the guy, as we all had one of those days where our minds just gave up. The samples of A.N.A. we had in there as well as the poor lab animals were lost in the incident, but we didn't think much of it. The days of playing hero were long gone, it was best to just seal it away and face reality. The disaster zone was ignored for quite some time, until someone started hearing noises coming from the sealed off area. With everyone's nerves frayed, we chalked it up to paranoia, especially since we got word that a giant obscene beetle was stomping in our direction. Reports from all around were saying Minceskro was headed our way, bringing their swarm of horrid bugs along. Once we heard that, panic set in. Everyone was just running around, either pretending we could survive this arrival or foolishly believing we could escape it in time. Neither option would really work. Our buildings were in shambles, it would never be able to keep out the ravenous swarms. Our vehicles were few and the remaining gas was meager. Some people could flee, but to where? Even if they outran the living hive, they would just be joining the sea of lost refugees, forever searching for safety. There were arguments, fights, breakdowns, all the horrid emotions that come from such a revelation. People were at each others throats, while others just sealed themselves into various corners and cried. It was getting to the point where it was looking like we wouldn't even live long enough to see the wretched bug when the lab exploded again.

The whole building shook like there was the greatest earthquake of all time happening. The sound of crumbling brick and screeching metal filled the air. For a moment, we all thought that another titan had beaten Minceskro to their prize. The current bet was Melalo making another crash landing atop a community of unfortunate souls. But when the dust settled and we all emerged from our hiding places, we found something else standing amongst the rubble. When we first gazed upon it, we found no hope or comfort. It wasn't one of the titans we knew, but that only meant a new monstrosity had been born. It looked like that laboratory freakout must have caused various A.N.A. samples to infect one of the test animals. With the mutagen in their body, they would have easily survived the disaster and had been growing ever since we boarded the place up. This destruction was just the result of a massive growth spurt, the violent emergence into their true form. Fate was kind to us, as this creature was easily the smallest of all the titans. If it had been as large as the others, our whole base would have been flattened. Despite our miraculous survival, things were not looking good. Sooner or later the thing would wake up from its slumber and unveil the newest way for A.N.A. to ravage the planet. The new beast looked like one of the toads that was kept in the lab, so the bet was that we would all drown in poison or something. All we had to do was wait. Some folk took a vehicle and peeled out that very night, but the rest stayed and simply stared at the great beast. It was probably because we all accepted our fate and decided to stop running and hiding. Let us die together in the place that we once called home. But we waited and waited, and no death came for us. This newborn didn't awaken, it hardly even moved. Its eyes did not open, and it almost looked like they couldn't even do that if it wanted. It breathed, it snored, but it did little else. Further investigation showed that its limbs weren't even capable of movement, as their feet was just a sprawling web of flesh that coated the earth. If this beast wouldn't move, then perhaps its lethality would come from deadly gas or clouds of A.N.A. filling the air. None of that happened either. Days went by, and the creature still slumbered.       We all began to think that this newborn was simply a dud, a failed creation of A.N.A. Funny how we considered the fact that it didn't horribly kill us a "failure," but our minds weren't in the right place. Everyone was just bewildered by this development, finally seeing one of these titans up close and in the flesh. We were so wrapped up in it all that we didn't even notice that the time table for Mincerskro's arrival came and went without an appearance. It was only long after the fact when someone realized the horrid beetle never showed up. We all scrambled to our dusty stations and tried to get a read on where it was now. From what few reports we could get, it seemed the massive bug had suddenly changed its mind and veered its path far away from us. This was a brief moment of relief for us, as that meant we wouldn't be eaten alive by mutated insects. This meant that we had more time to poke and prod this new creation until another titan showed up to finish the job. We spent quite some time musing over this great toad, wondering what it could do and why it had been born. What researchers remained did their best to study it, with a slightly renewed hope of unlocking the secrets of A.N.A. Perhaps this sleeping amphibian could give us some answers, or even clues on how to deal with the titans. With dwindling supplies and time, we wondered if we would live long enough to solve this mystery. It turns out, our starved broken selves had already been given an answer, but we were too absorbed in the new beast's presence to notice it. The realization came when someone made a comment on the toad's slumbering state versus the other rampaging titans. Talk of how the other beasts would rip this little thing to shreds, and how it probably wouldn't even wake up then. When someone mentioned that the titans don't invade each other's territories, it finally hit us. Minceskro didn't just change its direction at random, it avoided us because this new being had been born. The abominations don't fight each other, they don't even get close. Something keeps them apart, for what reason, we don't know. It could be that they are territorial, or they don't see a point in fighting. Plenty of earth to ravage, no need to bicker over who gets to stomp what city. The toad's presence might be giving off that same cue, some kind of signal to keep the others away. There was no real way for us to test it, but we clung to that hope for as long as we could. As time rolled by and our studies continued, we started getting the inkling that this was true. The other children were not coming close to this region, always forging a path that steered around rather than through. Was it really because of this sleeping toad, or was it pure luck? Didn't matter, we were alive. Eventually, we started to spread word of this miracle, that we now had a safe haven from the titans. With the slumbering toad keeping the whole area free of destruction, there was now somewhere for people to find shelter. At first, no one really believed us. Some called us traitors for harboring this thing, and others called for its death. In time, though, enough desperate people heard of this slim hope and started to make their way here. We opened our doors and offered what little we had left to those who came, happy that we could at least give some comfort to others. In the beginning, things were tight and tough, as supplies ran low and more mouths arrived. It started to seem like a bad idea to bring all these people here, until more started to arrive with their own offerings. As word spread further, and our survival continued, more folk started to believe this was truly a safe haven. They brought everything they could and shared it with the others. Our base started to grow into a village, than a town, as more refugees came in and brought their own gifts with them. Days went to weeks then to months, all without a titan coming to spoil the fun. It seemed our froggy friend was actually serving as our guardian. We soon found out that they could do more then just that. During initial studies of the immobile toad, we found that its many warts wept with a golden fluid. We assumed it to be poison and stayed far away. The researchers found it to be filled with A.N.A. though it was in a form they never seen before. It was not the same as the mutagen, but it was A.N.A. no doubt. We didn't think too much of it, just avoided making contact with it. With refugees showing up and shelters needed, we busied ourselves with that instead of worrying about this golden ichor. The discovery of its properties only came when one of the refugees made an insane decision. They had come with a group who had fled from Tcaridyi, the great worm having drilled its way through their tent city and bathed itself in the nearby lake. The poor soul had been inflicted by the beast's irritating hairs, the crimson shards stabbed into half of his body. His whole right arm was swollen to disgusting levels, and the fever he held was dangerously high. Amputation was on the table, but his burning body gave the impression that his days were quite short, regardless of what we did. He spent most of his time in the medical area of the camp, with everyone pretty much waiting for him to pass. One night, though, his fever and burning flesh drove him to madness, and he fled from his cot. Desperate and dying, he wandered to the sleeping toad and started yelling for its help. No one really knows what he was thinking, perhaps the delirium making him believe that the savior that gave him shelter could cure his sickness. Whatever madness struck him, it caused him to drive an arm into one of the warts and spray himself with the golden fluid. Man drenched himself head to toe with the stuff, much to the horror of everyone around. We busted out the hazmat suits and dragged him away to quarantine, terrified of what he just unleashed. It would be just our luck that one crazed person would ruin it all for everyone. However, the toad never woke and the coating of A.N.A. led to something far greater. Everyone expected him to die, to melt into some puddle of goo. But when one of the helping hands went in to check on them, they came stumbling back out in utter disbelief. We figured it was a scene of wretched gore that caused this reaction, as they just kept saying "Ana, Ana" as they pointed at the quarantine wing. When someone else dared peek in on our crazed patient, they too were just as shocked at what they saw. The man was getting better, the swelling having died down drastically and his skin returning to a healthy hue. Temperature checks revealed that his fever was fading, and that his vitals were reaching normal levels. The burning hairs of Tcaridyi were plaguing him no more, and the golden A.N.A. fluid brought no other damage with it. We wanted to believe that it was the ichor that cured him, but we didn't want to say it. There was no real way to prove it just yet, and we didn't want to give the sick refugees a false hope. Even more, we didn't know what side effects would occur. Perhaps he would survive this fever just to die to something even more horrible hidden with the fluid. We had to do more tests, but we weren't sure how to proceed. We couldn't just do human testing, that was immoral. However, that decision was torn from us once word leaked out of this miraculous liquid.

 People with dying friends and families nearly trampled each other to get hold of some of this juice, and didn't think twice before smearing it on wounds and infected sites. We had to seal off access to our beloved toad and keep constant guard to ward off desperate families. We didn't like the idea of people bathing in this unknown ichor, and also we didn't want our one guardian to be torn apart by frantic believers. In short time, though, we couldn't deny its effects. People exposed to this fluid were getting better, the death sentences granted to them by the other diseased titans were now being lifted. When we saw what was happening, we couldn't keep it back any longer. This was another great hope, another chance for survival. Even if something horrible happened in the long run, we couldn't afford to deny this hope for others. A new procedure was set in place, with trained folks safely harvesting the fluid from the toad and giving it out to the patients in the medical ward. There was healing, there was hope. With word of this lifesaving ichor, even more people poured in, and even communication lines opened up with other places begging for samples. Our sleeping toad friend started to gain quite the following, and eventually the people gave her a name. "Queen Ana" was quite the choice, but it was fitting with her (assuming she is female) appearance and what was in the fluid that saved so many lives. The demand was so high, there was worry we would drain our beloved guardian dry. She certainly needed to replenish the nutrients we took from her, but we didn't know how. The other titans didn't really need to eat, but she was obviously different from them. Her mouth didn't look like it could open, and we weren't even sure what to feed her. She wound up solving that problem herself. One day, the skin on her chest began to slough off, revealing a nest of unsettling holes. We feared she was sick or dying, until things started to emerge from these cavities. They looked like tadpoles, but their fins fluttered like wings in the breeze. They crawled out of her in droves and took to the skies, dancing away like fairies.

We were baffled by all this, but some stuck around and revealed their purpose to us all. These offspring glided their way to those who were sickened by the other titans and landed upon their bodies. Tendrils latched onto skin and they started to feed. No one even thought of stopping them, never considering a malicious intent. The tadpoles just drained some blood and then flew on to the next patient. Days later, those touched by these creatures were regaining their health, the disease seemingly sucked out of their bodies. As for the young, once they were filled up with blood, they fluttered back home to Queen Ana and crawled back inside. Soon after, they would emerge empty and take to the skies again. It seemed that they were feeding the Queen, pulling the sickness in with blood and giving it to her instead. The many that were carried away on the winds would eventually return, drop off their cache and head back out. The healing touch was now spreading, and soon other places found relief in their presence. Even now, Queen Ana still sleeps, despite the city growing around here. With the titans kept at bay, we now can actually build something that will stand. So many people and resources continue to pour into this sprawling community, turning this rundown tent town into the last bastion for humanity. The study of Queen Ana and her fairy-like tadpoles have continued with greater purpose. There is the hope that this cure can be used to further ward off the titans and their pestilence, and that maybe its regenerative properties can be used to heal the broken land. Some think that we could replicate Ana, and create more guardians and thus more havens. Of course, we are all hesitant on that last part, lest we repeat past mistakes. But the thing that matters most is that there is hope, there is safety, and there is home. With Queen Ana with us, maybe, just maybe, we might make it after all....   ------------------------------------

“Queen Ana”

A while back I did the kaiju versions of the Children of Ana, and originally I was done there. But then @iamthekaijuking pointed out that Queen Ana herself has a form of a golden toad, and thought that would work as a kaiju as well. I liked the idea and decided to go for it, so we got one last entry here! I will note that the demon father probably won't get a form, since I have not seen any mention of what he looks like and technically his role was filled by the dead leviathan. And this new entry at least gives some hope to the poor world I created to suffer at the hands of these diseased titans.

hanna-barbera Wild West panorama!

Tom and Jerry peeking at their ripoffs, who are pretending to be Native Americans and making it rain. Jinks, you take that headband off, you’re making a mockery of native culture

Quick Draw McGraw lassoing a Buffalo. Captain Caveman, wtf are you doing???

Doggie Daddy telling stories by the campfire to Augie, Ricochet Rabbit, Crazy Legs, and some random animals. I also love how Blast-Off Buzzard is up there, perched on a cactus, looking salty.

Dino being Dino.

An animal jamboree (wtf? Atom Ant x Granny Sweet confirmed? That raises disturbing questions)

Fred Flintstone serving soup. Top Cat looks so short here for no reason. Oh and Huck playing the triangle, love that for him

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"But why?

For rowaelin

Thanks for the ask nonny!!!  

Another part of the Hey Neighbor series.

Back to their usual antics.  Is it cheesy? Yes.  But it made me smile, so I hope it makes you smile too.

Hey, Fireheart

The knock came on Aelin’s door late in the afternoon on a Wednesday.  Typically, she wouldn’t have minded the intrusion in her day as she usually just had a few online meetings to attend to and the rest of the day was free for her to work on current projects.  Wednesdays were truly a solace in the middle of the week when every other day edged on chaos and destruction.

It seemed however that on that particular Wednesday was out to get her.

For one, her internet was down.

Then, as it turned out, she’d mistakenly sent an unedited article to her manager.  He was not amused.  And, of course, she lost the completely edited document.

Fleetfoot was also mad at her because they’d not gone for a walk that morning, so the dog staunchly remained in Aelin’s room ignoring her.

To culminate the entire wreck of a day, there was no chocolate in the apartment.

So when four o’clock rolled around, Aelin shut off her computer and turned away from anything relating to work.  Her internet had finally returned, but she’d get caught up on everything else later.  For now—she needed therapy.  And this form of therapy might be a little unconventional, but she figured any type of serotonin was better than none.

She hooked her phone up to her speaker system and flipped to her music and selected a song at random.  Instead of her usual bouts of Taylor Swift music—an old Brittney Spears song blasted out.

Chuckling to herself, Aelin decided that this might be the best way to dance it out.

Which was how, ten minutes later, the pounding knock on her door found her.

Not bothering to turn the music down Aelin went to answer.  She was in the midst of Kesha now, and while it brought back unfortunate memories of High School, the electronic beat was still so easy to dance to.

She opened the door to find Rowan standing there.  Scowl in place.  Just like the good old days.

“Buzzard!” she crooned.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, nearly yelling over the music.

In the week and a half since the dinner party where he’d ultimately saved her from not just Arobynn but the prying eyes of her family—they hadn’t talked much.  Work had consumed them both and their schedules had been so chaotic that Aelin hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him in the hall.

“What? I thought you said we were escaping to Greece the next chance we got?” The little joke between then had been the only thing that had gotten her through the last several days from the aftermath of her parent’s party.

She tried to keep an innocent expression in place, but couldn’t help it as another, rather raunchy, song came up.  A small smile curled on her lips, especially when pink started to stain Rowan’s cheeks.

Because she had also failed to remember she was wearing a pair of silk shorts that she usually only slept in, and her work blouse that was unbuttoned and hardly left anything to the imagination anyways.  

Alright, she’d feel a little bad for the buzzard.  This was the second time in recent history that he’d found her in less clothing than was socially acceptable.  The last time had been over impromptu redecoration and this was over impromptu dancing.  Maybe she needed better coping mechanisms.

“Aelin,” he insisted, gesturing with one hand, “we can hear your music through the entire building.”

“No one else has come to complain,” she said, sticking her head out the doorway to look past him.  She caught a whiff of pine and sun drifting off of him.  A far too distracting scent.

“Because everyone else is terrified of you,” Rowan informed her.

She grinned at that. “Excellent.”

“No.”

The definitive way he said it almost took her aback.  It was sharp and no nonsense, which was a good way to describe Rowan in general.  But then she caught the slight panic mixed with amusement in his eyes.

Aelin crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorway.

“But it’s so much fun to be a little frightening,” she said.  “You should know better than anyone.  You’re grumpy, old, and have that lumber jack-ax murderer vibe.”

He stared at her, brow furrowing. “I’m not a lumber jack, or ax murderer.  Or old.”

“Please, Rowan,” she scoffed. “You spend every day in the woods and carry around rope in your bag.”

“Because I’m a Park Ranger--you know this.”

He was getting flustered now which only made Aelin’s smile broaden. 

“Oh, buzzard,” she said, “you make it too easy.”

He sighed, exasperated. “Turn the music down.”

“Only on one condition,” she said, standing up straight. Sensing the challenge, Rowan straightened his shoulders and gave her an appraising look. “You have to dance with me.”

He sputtered. “Excuse me?”

“Dance,” she repeated, “with me.”

AC/DC began hammering through the speakers. What on earth was this playlist?

He considered that for a minute and ran a hand through his hair. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“But why?” Rowan asked, still looking adorably bewildered.  Truly she never would tire of that look of pure confusion mixed with intrigue that he had mastered so well.

“Because I had a terrible day, I have no chocolate cake, and I just want to be carefree,” she informed him.

Rowan ran his thumb over his lower lip and Aelin had the distinct impression that she would like to kiss him.  Like a lunatic.  She blinked away the thought and tucked it as far back in her head as she could.

“You have terrible taste in music,” Rowan told her.

She frowned. “I appreciate variety.  It’s a good quality to have.”

“One song,” he informed her.

“Too old to keep up with me?” she teased.

Rowan rolled his eyes as he slowly entered the apartment. “I do have other things to do with my day, Galathynius.”

Sighing dramatically, Aelin went to her phone and scrolled through her music until she found the perfect song.  She grinned maniacally and selected the song. 

The opening notes rang out and Aelin noted the exact moment when Rowan recognized the song.

“No!  Taylor?” He gave her a look that she wished she could have framed on her wall.

“It’s Taylor, baby!” she shouted.

I stay out too late.

Got nothing in my brain.

Aelin began singing along immediately.  After a raucous dating life that had received many comments from “friends,” she’d decided to live just for her.  And this song had defined her for most of that year.

“C’mon Whitethorn!” she called to him, grabbing his arm to pull him into the apartment. “You’ve gotta dance.”

“You’re insane,” Rowan told her.

Aelin pretended not to hear him as she began to dance.  Well, dance in a relative sense.  This was the sort of dancing that she did when no one was around.  When it was just her after a long day and she’d stripped to her bra and underwear.  When she had no worry in the world. 

Twisting and turning, Aelin just let herself move to the music.  When she saw Rowan still wasn’t dancing, she pointed a finger at him.

“Whitethorn.”

“I don’t dance.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin took his hand and pulled him closer.  It took until the chorus that he finally loosened up.

Can’t stop, won’t stop moving…

…Shake it off, shake it off

The dance, whatever it was, was sloppy.  But Aelin didn’t care.  All she cared about was the laugh bubbling within her, the music pounding in the speakers, and the fact that Rowan was moving with her.  He’d even developed a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

Shake it off just shake it off.

And much to her delight, Rowan gave a little chest shake like right out of the Taylor Swift music video.  Cackling, Aelin mirrored his motions until they were both ridiculously dancing around Aelin’s living room.

Aelin grabbed his hand so they were face to face.  Without a second thought, Rowan twisted Aelin beneath his arm.  They danced like that in twirls and shakes and laughter.  They danced until Aelin was breathless and her cheeks burned from laughing.  She’d forgotten why she was so upset this afternoon to begin with.

Hey, hey, hey

You should’ve been getting down to this sick beat

“Fireheart,” Rowan said suddenly.  He pulled her back close, one hand trailing at her waist.

“What?” Her heart skipped a beat, she couldn’t help it.  The childhood nickname rolled off his lips so lightly, his subtle accent curling the vowels.

“Fireheart,” he repeated.  Rowan looked down at her, his bright green eyes intently fixed on hers. “Your mother called you that.”

“Oh.  Yeah, it’s a nickname from when I was little.”  A blush rose to her cheeks though she didn’t really know why.

“Hmm.” Was all Rowan had to say.

The song blasted out the chorus, a beat completely opposite to the way Rowan had turned their dance—something slow and distinct.

“I got into a lot of mischief as a kid,” Aelin continued, unable to really help it. “Too much energy.  I caused a lot of chaos and mom just called me her Fireheart.”

The song was coming to a close, Aelin had sung along to it plenty of times to know.  Rowan pushed her out in another little spin before gathering her back close.

“It suits you.” His words were soft, almost drowned out by that final base note reverberating through the speakers.

Aelin became acutely aware of Rowan before her.  She could feel the rough calluses on his hands, the heat of his body.  She could feel the quiet power raging beneath his skin in the taut muscles of his build.  Mingling with his usual scent of pine were the undercurrents of sweat.  Aelin realized then he’d probably just gotten off a morning shift and was just desperate for an easy night’s rest.  Until she’d blasted her music.

“Just as buzzard suits you,” she teased, trying to tell herself that it wasn’t guilt and wasn’t affection building in her chest now.

When the Taylor Swift song ended it was replaced by something Aelin didn’t recognize, she pulled away from Rowan.  She hoped he couldn’t see the flush rising in her cheeks and that he hadn’t noticed her blatant staring.  Even after that dinner party--she still hadn’t gotten used to his presence.  If anything, her reactions to him were worse.  Every touch of his hand, every hiss of breath.  And his stare.  His stare.

Those eyes of his burned into her with enough force that she could ignite just like her little epitaph accredited her to.

“Well, I suppose you’re free to go,” she told him, taking another step away. “You’ve paid your dues.”

He grunted unamused. “You still owe me for that party.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved him off as she crossed the room to her stereo and turned down the music. “Enjoy your silence, old man.” 

“Good-bye Fireheart,” Rowan said, giving her once last look before leaving the apartment.

The door clicked quietly behind him and at that sound, a flood of emotions poured through Aelin.  Embarrassment.  Shock.  Guilt.  Giddiness.  All of it raged through her.  And for what?  Her grumpy ass of a neighbor with green eyes and a smirk to make her weak.

Oh hell.

When Fleetfoot came to her side, finally woken from a nap, Aelin snapped to attention.

“Let’s go for a run.” Aelin told her dog.

Because a run was the only way she would be able to beat back the strange energy that was now coursing in her veins.

Fleetfoot adamantly agreed.

...

thanks y’all!

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Blast-Off Buzzard headcannon

In another of those absurdly illogical attempts of Blast-Off Buzzard to capture and devour the desert snake Crazylegs in the middle of the deserts alongside Route 66, Blast-Off gets distracted by an overly bright sun to the point of blinding him insane.

Shel Station (Mechanic Ork x Reader) - Part 1

@lovestruckheifer suggested this when I was asking for prompts:

Something wholesome with a pig-headed/faced orc. Can't really find anything wholesome with this type of orc.

Perhaps the orc is from the country side and with their partner in a city. Unfamiliar and overwhelmed but they are with their partner who is familiar with the sights and sounds.

I did a different direction than a country-side orc going into the city.

Oh, and I decided to make this one an ork, instead of an orc.

---

In any other circumstance, you’d have found the scenery beautiful. Long expanses of orange-red sand with the occasional cacti or cluster of dried bramble. Mountains in the distance, like sleeping giants. A bright blue sky with a lone buzzard circling overhead. Heat waves rising off the empty highway ahead and behind you.

However, in this case, your fucking rental car broke down. And all you see is dust and an opportunistic scavenger bird, waiting for you to die.

It took hours on the phone with a rental car rep to figure out what to do. You wasted nearly half a tank of gas, just blasting the A/C while just waiting to hear back from Chad or Rachel or whatever basic names the call center reps had. Once they confirmed they had found a mechanic willing to tow you, it took another hour for the greasemonkey to arrive.

Fifteen minutes before the blue tow truck arrived, the gas fumes ran out.

Needless to say, you are not in a great mood - and agonizingly sweaty - when the mechanic pulls up. As the driver maneuvers the truck in front of your car, you climb out of the rental. It feels worse outside. The sun blares down on your body from above, no longer directly overhead, thankfully, but still high in the sky.

You’ve already changed into as few clothes as possible, which means your lightest pair of shorts, a tank top, and a pair of sandals. Stil, you were dripping with sweat.

When the driver steps from the cab of their truck, you wildly wonder how they can deal with wearing so much in this heat. Your feet sweat just looking at their scuffed up steel-toed boots and you cringe at the thought of wearing the same dark blue coveralls. On their chest, an embroidered name tag displays ‘Shel’ under which ‘she/her’ is displayed..

It’s only when your eye settles on the mechanic’s beefy green arm you realize they’re non-human. Your eyes flick to their face as they approach, finding small tusks jutting from full lips beneath a pig-like snout and . Their blondeish-red hair is long on top, pulled into a bun, while the sides are shaved short.

“You’re the mechanic?” You gawp, blinking as their shadow falls over you. They’re so tall - at least seven foot, maybe more - and you faintly wonder just how much muscle the baggy coveralls are hiding.

“Yes,” Shel pins you with a critical golden-brown gaze, one of her hands landing on her hip. As the weight of her hand pulls the fabric, you can see vague outlines of her musculature. Catching your stare, you shift your gaze to her face. You realize she has a beauty mark under her left eye and almost miss her next words. “Is there gonna be a problem with that?”

“No! Of course not!” Instant regret slams into your thoughts. She totally took your staring the wrong way. You raise your hands up, palms toward Shel as additional ungodly heat claws into your face. Under her unimpressed gaze, you begin to babble, “I just… it’s hot and I was prepared to deal with a guy and you know what car guys are like.”

For an agonizing beat, she stares down at you, before finally giving a nod. “Exhausting.”

“Haha, good one,” you laugh, but the giggle trails off as she raises a critical eyebrow. Once again, the words babble from you, as you point helplessly to your car with your thumb, “Like car exhaust, right?”

For a dreadful beat, silence bubbles up between you two. With you awkwardly cringing out a smile while the ork mechanic stares down at you, like you’re a strange sort of bug.

“You don’t take the heat well at all, do you?” She narrows her eyes, a curl of amusement making her lips curve into a smile around her tusks as her snout wrinkles. The temptation to run your fingertip along her snout’s wrinkled ridges rises up and you quickly slam it back down. She nods back to her still-running vehicle, before walking past you. “Hop into my truck while I get ‘er hooked up.”

Though the allure of air conditioning is strong, you still half-turn back to Shel as she inspects your rental. “You, uh, you don’t need help?”

“Nope.” Pure confidence as she opens the driver side door and shifts the car’s gear stick. A little too late, you realize you left the keys in the ignition when she arrived. She speaks a little louder, an insistent edge to her words. “Get in the truck before you pass out.”

Finally, you nod and head to the truck, your shoulders hunched. As soon as you climb in and slam the door shut behind you, you heave a sigh and sink into the passenger seat. The cold air on your flushed cheeks is a salve. You’re certain you’ve burned in the sun, even though you’ve barely spent ten minutes outside.

Then again, there might be another reason why your cheeks feel so warm, you realize, as you find yourself watching Shel through the rearview mirror. In the span of time it took you to get to the truck, she has the hood of your rental popped open. She seems to be giving it a critical once over, fiddling with parts you can’t even guess the name of.

As she leans over the engine, the coverall pulls tight around her rear, and you snap your attention to the truck’s dashboard.

There is no way you’re ogling your mechanic! She’s just doing her job! Miserably, you press your hands to your cheeks, realizing how fast your heart is thrumming and how graciously cold your hands have gotten in the air conditioning. Maybe it’s the heat that’s gotten to you. You’re not thinking straight.

As soon as that thought hits you, you giggle deliriously to yourself. Of course, you’re not thinking straight. And then the image of Shel’s beefy forearms slides into your brain, like a fuck boy sliding into your DMs.

You barely choke down a stressed whimper before the driver’s side door opens.

“Alright, it looks like there’s some magic dust buildup. Probably not from your trip, unless y’drove through, like, five wizard’s storms on your way out here.” Shel dusts her hands off on her coverall pant legs, before climbing into the driver side seat and shutting the door behind her.

You stare at her, trying not to think how little space there is in the truck cab. You’re distracted by a droplet of sweat coasting down the side of her throat, disappearing under the collar of her coveralls, as she continues, “Looks like there’s some overdue maintenance, too. I’ll take a better look at my garage.”

You try to forget the thoughts you had moments early and force your eyes to turn toward Shel’s face. “How long until I can get back on the road?”

“Like I said, I’ll take a better look at the garage,” she replies as she puts the truck into gear and slowly turns back the way she came on the highway. It’s easy enough, given how dead this stretch of road is. “Magic dust buildup can do a lotta weird things and cause problems you didn’t think were an issue.”

“Oh, okay.” Your eyebrows furrow as you stare out the passenger window, watching the desert and dust pass by. Your teeth worry at your bottom lip as you wonder what to do now. This roadtrip through the desert wasn’t meant to last very long.

You had been trying to get back home after visiting friends in the obscenely hot part of the country. The only reason you chose to roadtrip back home was thanks to all the flights around your friend’s city being grounded, thanks to an abrupt gryphon migration diversion.

With all that in mind, you weren’t sure if you had the funds for a new rental or to stay at a hotel until the current rental got fixed. Hell, you weren’t even sure where Shel was taking you. Did she even operate in a town? Or was she an isolated garage, out in the middle of an infernal hellscape of heat and dust?

“Dustrun doesn’t have much, but it’s got what you need.” Shel seemed to pick up on the apprehension descending on you. Though she keeps her eyes on the road, even as she addresses you. “We’ll get you a place to stay and eat until your car is fixed up or until the rental agency sends you a new one.”

Another sigh heaves through your chest. “Thanks, but I don’t know if I’ll have the funds to pay for stuff.”

“I’ve worked with Enterprize Rental Firm before, they’ll cover your room and the costs of repair.” Shel says this so matter-of-factually, you feel a little bit of tension ease from your body. Not entirely, but some. “You just gotta pay for what you eat. Or work it off in the diner, I s’pose.”

That doesn’t sound so bad, you think, as you settle into the seat a little further. Your eyes turn back toward the window, watching the cacti and rocks skirt by. Overhead, sparse and wispy clouds had journeyed into the sky, just as dusk began approaching.

The rattle of metal and the rush of the air conditioning play as ambient background to your dawdling thoughts. Before you know it, your eyes droop and the toll of being stranded out in the desert has whisked you away to sleep.

Read the Cat in the Hat!

Dipper: Twas Halloween night, with the kids door-to-dooring...

Coraline: And all over town the sugar was soaring. But two in the Pink Palace were deep down in the dumps, 'cause from Jones to Lovat, the kids had the mumps.

*Coraline and Wybie sit by the window, staring drearily outside and wishing they could go out, get candy, and maybe prank some of those popular kids from school. Suddenly, Mel walked into the room donning her costume for the night*

Mel: Now, I'm off to a party, my outfit is chic. It's a Catwoman costume, I'm sure is unique. Just rest on the sofa, I'll be home by 10:00.

Coraline: Can we have some candy?

Mel: Just one M&M. *Right before leaving, she hands the two miserable children their only candy for tonight*

Wybie: Then we heard a loud crash.

*A crash was heard coming from outside, startling the two*

Wybie: We were tempted to scat.

Coraline: And we looked and we saw him...

*Entering the room without even a knock was a boy wearing a bizarre hat, riding on a unicycle of all things and carrying a parasol*

Coraline/Wybie: The Acrobat the Hat!

Raz: I'll save Halloween for you two grumpy tots. Just stick out your rumps for some mump-stumping shots! *From his unicycle spouted a pair of gloved hands with syringes. Wanting to get rid of their mumps, the two bent over and let the shots do their work, relieving them of their mumps* Now hop on my cycle, there's nothing to fear! And we shall have candy... and cause a little fear.

*The children hop on the seats that extend from behind his unicycle, but before the Acrobat in the Hat could depart, he found Ms. Spink and Forcible blocking the door way*

Ms. Spink: You should not be here when the adults are away!

Raz: And you should be dead, you're so wrinkled and gray!

Ms. Forcible: I'll give you the business, you blasted sea cow! These go-getting oldsters will... Where am I now?

*The Acrobat in the Hat's unicycle pulls a trick on the two, one you might find in the Three Stooges, distracting them with another set of hands before pulling their wigs over their faces. With them out of the way, the Acrobat in the Hat leaves with the kids... Only to run into a bizarre creature with a nice mustache*

Borax: I am the Borax. I speak for the woods. But I've plastered my likeness on consumer goods. *He gestures to products with his face on them*

Coraline: Sellout! *She presses a button on the unicycle and a set of hands tosses the products into a nearby trashcan, along with the Borax*

Borax: Hey!

♪ The Acrobat in the Hat doesn't care what moms say ♪ ♪ The minute they leave you, he'll take you away ♪ ♪ He likes to make jokes ♪ ♪ When someone is hurt ♪ ♪ You might see his name on an AMBER Alert! ♪

*The Acrobat in the Hat went around town causing all sorts of mischief and mayhem, knocking over stacks of yurtling turtles, flipping over cars, playing tic-tac-toe on Soos' forehead, and pantsing Kubo. They soon arrive at the Northwest Manor*

Raz: Trick or treat!

*Preston Northwest opened the door, arms folded*

Preston: Who buzzed the buzzard? Don't pester the rich. I don't hand out candy, you son of a Gritch! *He slams the door shut, much to the anger of the Acrobat in the Hat*

Wybie: He pulled out bamfoozlers and side-winding gizzles. And if I talk like this more, I will slam my tongue in a door.

*The Acrobat in the hat pulled out a small box with a button, that, when pushed, the box expanded with gloved hands extended out and holding an assortment of firearms. He fired, sending the mansion crumbling to the ground*

Coraline: He laughed as he heard that old codger's house-sizzles.

*After a good laugh, the Acrobat in the Hat took off with Coraline and Wybie while they wondered if allowing a strange boy to whisk them away was such a good idea*

Preston: Let this be a lesson to those who love cash, that your nice stash of cash could be gone in a flash. And if you are awful and nasty and cruel...

Raz: Enough with the lessons! This isn't a school! *Two hands come out from his parasol and snap the man's neck*

*The group then made their way to the local tavern*

Bartender: I don't got no candy, I only serve beer. And who the hell allowed minors in here?

Raz: Your peanuts are pawed through, your beer smells like skunk. And you just pissed off the one guy who ain't drunk! *Coraline and Wybie gasp when he pointed his parasol at the bartender, and from it emerged and gloved hand that held a knife to the man's neck*

Bartender: Hey! This is supposed to be a children's story!

Raz: Go grab all his money and vodka and gin. And I'll knit a nice thneed from his leathery skin.

*They left the bar a while ago, carrying bags full of cash and gin. And around the Acrobat in the Hat's neck was a bizarre-looking scarf*

Wybie: Say, Mr. Hat, I don't mean to complain, but you promised us candy, not mayhem and pain.

Coraline: The dude thought a while, then said-

Raz: I know a man! With an overpriced store, who'll give all that he can.

*The Mystery Shack gift shop- The Acrobat in the Hat has the owner held at gunpoint while Coraline and Wybie stuffed their bags with Halloween candy*

Stan: Take whatever you want! I don't want any trouble! Take Jims that are Slim, and gum of the bubble.

Raz: I won't shoot you now, 'cause I've found something that won't leave you bored, an afternoon off with five kids and your brother Ford!

*Dipper, Mabel, Norman, Neil, and Lili barge into the gift shop followed by Ford entering in on a bicycle as Stan yelled,*

Stan: NOOOO!

♪ Oh, the Acrobat in the Hat ♪ ♪ Has some anger issues ♪ ♪ And some highly unusual political views ♪ ♪ If he comes a-calling, you'd better hide ♪ ♪ 'Cause he's committing aggravated floop-fluffle-cide! ♪

*The Acrobat in the Hat once again went around town, this time causing more damage than last time. He blew up city hall, set fire to the Babcock's home, released the animals from the zoo, and killed many floop-fuffles before tossing them into a pile as Coraline and Wybie watched in horror*

*Eggs, another Floop-Fluffe who somehow escaped the Acrobat in the Hat is immediately shot down*

♪floop-fluffle-cide! ♪

Coraline: We had to escape from this behatted mammal. So we hitched us a ride on a three-hump gumbamel!

Wybie: A gumbamel's a camel but faster and humbler. It doesn't take tips and it's never a grumbler. So if you must leave in a kind of a scramble, then jump on the hump of a humble gumbamel.

Coraline: But if the gumbamel should ramble, then stumble, then just hop atop a Hidebehind. But then if that Hidebehind should happen to well, hide, the next one's next door, half man, half taur.

*After getting rides from all sorts of Anomalies, they head back to the Pink Palace and block the door with furniture*

Wybie: We thought we'd escaped from our psychotic guide... but when we got home, he was waiting inside!

*The two began to back away as the psycho in the hat stalked forward with a malicious grin*

Raz: I'm staying forever. You're all stuck with that. 'Cause I'm your new friend, the Acrobat in the...AHH!

*Wybie gasps when he sees that Coraline had quickly grabbed the Acrobat in the Hat's parasol and stabbed him in the chest. He fell to the floor, slowly bleeding out*

Raz: I'm frightened of nothing, not even hellfires. Just don't let me ever be played by Mike Myers! *With that, he took his last breath*

*Sometime later, Coraline and Wybie sit in the living room sorting through their candy*

Wybie: Now please do not worry, 'cause we did okay. Yes, kids will get candy... *He pats the acrobat-skin rug* Whatever you say.