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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

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So...what kind of horror movie would you write featuring the Hargrove/ Mayfield family? (That you haven't written already lol)

oh boy, u may regret asking me this bc i am indecisive af and i can’t pick just one!

two that i'm actually writing are max as (g is for) ghostface killer in the abcs of neil’s death and also the max + tory nichols werewolf movie fic outlined here. also some more misc gorror junk bc i’m a demon and esp horny for susan wearing blood splatter. but more ideas commence below:

horror movie #1: another creature feature! awhile back @lucdarling sent me an ask abt max + billy hiding smth from susan and her like, playing along, pretending she doesn't know, and one of the scenarios that popped in my head was them keeping a baby bat as a pet. max finds it and she’s only like six or seven, and she thinks it’s going to turn into a vampire. so here is that scenario except horror edition: baby bat is actually a vampire type creature. not rly a vampire like, what’s prolly popping into ur head, like an undead human like dracula or smth, but like a bat monster that sucks blood.

billy being a lil older doesn’t actually think the bat is going to turn into a vampire. he makes fun of max for believing this, but he helps her take care of it anyway bc he thinks it’s cool. susan, like in the non-horror version, knows abt the bat but plays dumb bc she’s feeling a lot of guilt abt max’s difficulty adjusting to the blended fam (as of rn tho, neil has yet to reveal his abusive nature. the red flags are not yet red, more of a brownish maroon, and he is on his best behavior almost all the time, showering susan + max with affection and keeping the swears out of his mouth when he scolds billy in front of them) and knows the lil furry baby makes her happy. she tacitly cleans up after the bat whenever the kids miss a spot (bats poop a lot, dude) and distracts neil, deterring him from discovering it whenever he gets close.

baby bat gets rly big rly fast. and the older it gets, the more it starts to look monstrous. it still has bat features but it’s just like, different. its fangs grow suspiciously long, its hooks grow suspiciously long. its feet are elongated. a dorsal ridge emerges from its spine, spikes at first just flesh but soft fur rather like peach fuzz eventually sprouting. billy catches on that smth is strange abt this animal when it's as long as his forearm after two wks and still growing. he nearly shits a brick when the bat is clinging to his sweater one day and he steps in front of a mirror and only his reflection looks back at him— no bat.

max laughs at him all like, “stupid brother, ofc there’s no reflection. nosferatu is a vampire, vampires don’t have reflections.” 😂

susan catches a glimpse of the thing when nosferatu crawls out of the home max built it in her closet the same wk billy realizes it doesn’t have a reflection, and also almost shits a brick. she doesn’t know what it is, but it’s NOT a fucking bat. not a normal one, anyway! cue a comedy scene where she’s chasing it around the house with a butterfly net and it’s always one flap *ba dum tss* ahead of her, flying just out of reach. she suddenly regrets not getting rid of it sooner, scolding herself for ever allowing her daughter to keep a wild animal.

she can’t catch it. max comes home, susan tells her she needs to get rid of it. max cries, flips her the bird, refuses. billy tho…billy has mixed feelings. he loves nosferatu but he’s worried it’s going to get dangerous. he loves his dad and his dad is dangerous too. he’s stressed out enough, always on edge, knowing that one way or the other, neil is going to hurt him again. he’s already waiting for his dad to hurt him, he doesn’t need the added stress of waiting for nosferatu to hurt him too. and while max is 100% nosferatu’s favorite, it likes billy too. billy’s been handling it since it could fit in the palm of his hand, it trusts him much more than it trusts susan and doesn’t know any different when billy takes it out of the closet when max isn’t around.

billy frees nosferatu at an abandoned farm. there are always bats flying out of the old silo adjacent to the dilapidated barn. while he knows nosferatu isn’t a *normal* bat, it’s still bat like enough that he thinks it might make friends and be happy here…

yeah, that doesn’t stick. before long, nosferatu is feasting on that colony. leeches the blood out of a couple bats nightly. the number of bats increases with nosferatu’s size. meanwhile, max mourns her missing friend. she’s sullen af and won’t speak to susan at all. she thinks susan is the one who got rid of nosferatu. billy never fesses up and susan doesn’t contradict max’s assumption bc she wants the step-siblings to get along.

neil, meanwhile, is getting more comfortable. those maroon flags are slowly but surely brightening to scarlet. he starts sabotaging susan’s plans with her friends, trying to keep her around the house more and more, quietly but steadily eroding her relationships with other people. he’s getting more visibly aggressive when he disciplines billy. he curses him out with a virulent venom that dunks susan’s stomach in ice water and scares max so badly, she runs to susan and hides behind her even though she’s still so mad that susan got rid of her beloved baby vampire.

nosferatu’s appetite surpasses what the bat colony can offer. it’s like the size of a ten yr old human child now. fucker’s big. it doesn’t just have fangs on top, but tusks on bottom. it can’t go out in the sunlight anymore, the sun sears its flesh. it misses max a lot and before, it wasn’t strong enough to fly back to her house. but now it is. it’s extremely strong, actually.

so bc it's hungry, nosferatu grabs a snack along the way. some nameless rando, it swoops down and sucks dry. nourished and much happier, nosferatu makes its way back home. patiently waits outside of max’s bedroom in the moonlight, tapping its hook against the window until she wakes up. initially max is a lil startled— nosferatu looks so different, there’s a beat before she recognizes it— him?? yk, ig it’s male, the og nosferatu was a guy. sure, why not, nosferatu is a boy now.

once she realizes who it is, she is so! happy! max opens the window and embraces her friend. she isn’t freaked out by the blood on its fangs. she’s always known nosferatu is a vampire, albeit, she was thinking he’d look more like dracula than this bat-monster-thingy.

nosferatu moves back into max’s closet. it hangs upside-down from her rod by its weird, elongated feet. we get more shots of nosferatu sucking rando ppl dry at night, tho he remains gentle with max. when max drags billy in to show her he came back, nosferatu is less friendly with him. he’s not aggressive with billy, but he is standoffish. nosferatu’s thought process is somewhere between human and animal. he doesn’t quite cognitively understand that billy took him to the farm with the intent of getting rid of him, but he does understand that the last time he clung to billy, billy left him alone and never came back. max puts two and two together, and realizes it was billy who “stole” her friend. she yells at him a lot, he yells back, she then ices him out.

billy acts out bc he’s upset. runs away, thinks he’s going to find his mom…the cops find him first and call neil. neil is rly embarrassed and pissed abt the whole thing. he breaks down and beats billy in front of the mayfields for the first time. nosferatu smells the blood and it’s time for the main event! we love dead!neil, yes, we do.

nosferatu flies out the closet and right into the living room where billy’s bleeding and teary but biting his lip so they don’t actually fall. susan’s covering max’s eyes but so shocked and tbh, FRIGHTENED, she doesn’t move a muscle beyond that. neil’s got the belt raised, preparing to bring it down again, and nosferatu smashes right into him. neil stumbles, turns back to see this freaky monster looking thing. proceeds to whip the belt at nosferatu. tries to fight him off with the belt and it doesn’t accomplish much beyond pissing him off more— nosferatu, like most classic vampire types, has a healing factor!

max rips her mom’s hands off her face in time to see her pet sink its fangs into her stepdad’s throat. nosferatu sucks neil dry. billy’s a little dazed, not quite frightened. susan is just dead ass frozen, too scared to scream, even. nosferatu crawls over to billy and nudges at him, making sure he’s in once piece and forgiving him in the same go. max darts over and that snaps susan out of her stupor, but she isn’t as fast as our blood-sucking bat monster.

nosferatu stretches his wings out and with a truly impressive wingspan, hugs both of the kids. <3

horror movie #2: a haunting! this one opens with a bang. it’s a tragic horror, beware. we’re in hawkins post s3. billy died at starcourt mall. neil’s obvi had a longstanding abusive mindset and abusive behavior, but he rly takes his grief out on susan and max. mostly susan. she does her best to protect max however she can, whether that means shielding her w her body, sending her out of the house, getting neil’s goat to inspire his ire in max’s place, etc. but sue simply isn’t around all the time and when she isn’t, but max is, well. yk.

one day neil comes home early (bc he lost his job for a violent outburst, tbh) and discovers susan packing a suitcase.

sue fights hard. she rly does. but neil is bigger, heavier, crueler, and to boot, he caught her completely unawares. he kills her. and no, no it’s not some accidental thing where neil makes one bad move rage-blind. he strangles her with his belt. she’s clawing at his arms and making these horrible choked, trapped animal noises. thrashes and twists her body with everything she has trying to get him off but he’s so strong, his grip is unrelenting, and she's growing weaker, lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. strangulation can induce incontinence and when susan blacks out, her piss streams to the hardwood— neil hears that as much as he felt the clawing and heard the noises, even now he could stop, but he doesn’t. he just. doesn’t think his wife has the right to leave him, esp not after his son just did.

neil burns the body and the suitcase in the woods while max is at school. max has been spending as much time as she can (and often with sue’s prompting) outside of the house, so it actually takes her about two days to realize her mother isn’t around. neil tells a pretty convincing story about how susan abandoned them, voice saturated with apology and sorrow. he takes her out for a fancy dinner and promises he’s going to be a better father-- that being a better father is the least he can do now that her mother abandoned her and they are alone in their grief.

max doesn’t know what to think. she’s been preoccupied with her own grief and pain. she finds it hard to believe her mother would just leave her to neil’s wrath. she has a lot of hangups with susan and anger toward her for marrying neil and not getting them out sooner, but she’s also old enough to realize there would be risks involved with that. it’s hard to reconcile the memory of her mother just last wk pinning max to the wall to protect her from neil’s blows with her own bod just abruptly taking off without a word in the middle of the night. but hey, maybe that’s why susan left. maybe she got sick of protecting her, maybe the pain got to be too much and she turned tail.

but also…it’s early october now, abt three months after billy’s death but still fairly warm outside. yet neil is wearing long sleeves. neil never used to button his collared shirts all the way up, and yet. every collar is buttoned. also, mom’s car is still here. why would mom leave without her car?

that ceramic pelican she loved so much is still here too, on the mantle in the living room. it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she would leave behind, she's had it since max was a baby.

max almost wants to believe neil because she’d rather her mother abandoned her than be dead somewhere, rotting in a storage locker or a hole in the ground. under the earth with the worms, just like billy. max has the worst feeling low in the pit of her gut. she thinks she knows the truth. she thinks abt going to hopper and hesitates bc she’s not sure she could handle it if he actually found smth. or what would happen to her if he did, where she would be sent, who she would end up with.

this movie would be more on the ambiguous end of things. an arthouse horror, if u will.

the days turn into wks and neil is crawling in his skin. the viewer isn’t sure if the shadows he’s seeing, always, always susan-shaped shadows, are of a ghostly nature or if he’s just hallucinating out of guilt. but the signs gradually point to the former— that smth paranormal is indeed going on. bc those scratches and bite marks susan left in his skin?

they do not heal. they do not get infected. they do not become necrotic. but they do not heal, either. days turn into wks and the wounds still look fresh, like she just left them moments ago. neil can’t wear light colors anymore because his wounds weep red into the fabric. he isn’t just seeing susan’s shadows either, he’s smelling her.

he washes his sheets and pillowcases a dozen times and the scent of her shampoo, her lotion, it’s like it’s woven into the fibers. he walks into the hallway and chokes on the aroma of susan’s perfume. he wonders if max is screwing with him, if max figured it out and she’s trying to torture him into a confession. one day he stomps off to max's bedroom, furious, adamant on confronting her. he grabs her doorknob, prepared to yank it open and then lets out a yelp, jerking his hand back with a sudden sharp pain.

it feels like a bee sting (which would be esp bad for this fucker in anything i write, bc i headcanon him as being allergic). but there’s no stinger. no injury. nothing. neil is freaked out enough that he backs down.

max, on the other hand, is getting gentler signs. when she turns the radio dial in the camaro, it’s somehow always her mom’s favorite songs that come thru the speakers. when she goes to pull clothes out of her drawers in the morning, she discovers that the things she’d just shoved inside in wrinkled balls are perfectly folded, neat as a pin, exactly like how susan always folded. susan was always fond of cardinals and suddenly max is seeing cardinals, pretty red cardinals, in just abt erry tree and shrub.

neil wakes up one night to his wife’s voice whispering “boo” right in his ear. he throws the covers off and discovers ashes in the bed. he doesn’t smell susan’s shampoo or lotion anymore, he smells the kerosine he’d poured all over her body.

his wounds still won’t heal. whenever he looks in the mirror, he catches a glimpse of susan walking past behind him, peering at him from her peripheral. he whips around, heart hammering, but there’s never any tangible person there.

max is almost certain her mother is dead at this point. neil’s been so bizarrely nice to her lately. she never believed in ghosts but her experiences with the upside-down broadened her perception of reality. she doesn’t know how else to explain the songs, the cardinals, the folded clothes. the way that these days, whenever she does feel fear toward neil, it just fades away. her fear melts like popsicles in the sun, immediately replaced by the sensation of a warm, maternal hug, as if arms she can’t see are trying to reassure her she truly doesn’t need to be afraid of him anymore.

in fact, max feels so unafraid of neil and brave, that one night she calls him out on it. he’s grizzled and unshaven in his recliner, beer in hand. she steps in front of the television he’s vacantly fixated on and folds her arms across her chest.

“you killed my mom, didn’t you?”

quick as a flash, neil leaps to his feet. he brings his arm back like he’s going to strike her and susan’s ceramic pelican on the mantle explodes into shards. the lights flicker, the television program cuts to snow with a static roar. every other knickknack on the mantle rattles and framed photos tumble off the wall.

neil very wisely lowers his hand. he slumps, boneless. he doesn’t say a word. max sees the answer in his eyes. it’s the dead of night and she snatches the camaro keys off the hook, marching out of the house, slamming the door behind her. it’s the dead of night and she doesn’t care. she’s going to blow past every stop sign and pound on the chief’s door until he opens up. and fuck, i just realized if this is post s3 he’s supposed to be in russia. shit. i don’t watch this show, but i know abt russia bc i DID watch the clips of that demogorgon that i rly hope isn’t stuck in captivity!! okay, but let’s pretend that didn’t happen?

it’s an au?? i mean, errything i write is always technically an au anyway, bc when i write stuff susan has an actual personality and billy isn’t *completely* abhorrent. okay, so it’s an au and mr. hopper didn’t blow up and un-blow up in russia. he’s still here. so max drives to his house.

she pounds on the door so hard this guy snaps outta bed, thinking someone’s trying to bust it down. she tells him neil confessed to killing her mom. it isn’t true, exactly, but he didn’t have to. so it’s a helluva grim drive back to cherry lane, this time in the cop car.

but when they go inside, chief prepared to arrest neil, no need. neil’s hanging from the belt he strangled susan with, shirtless for the first time since that night, erry seemingly fresh furrow and bite mark on full display. below his dangling feet is a map, the area he burned susan’s corpse in circled in red marker. did he kill himself or did the ghost do it?

up to u, we soundlessly cut to credits without a concrete answer to that question.

horror movie #3: crossover special! stranger things meets the chilling adventures of sabrina. sequel to that fic i wrote where susan makes out with lilith, queen of hell, and lilith kills neil for her. sue officially joins the church of lilith. bc in this ‘verse the church of lilith actually happens after caos s2 instead of the nonsense that was s3 and the inconceivably godawful migraine-inducing shit-fest that was s4.

killing neil was lilith’s only freebee. susan isn’t a witch, she’s a mortal, so in order to reap the other rewards of worshipping the one and only mother of demons, she has to fornicate with the witches and participate in the sacrifices!!!

this is, uh, well. it’s p much a porno, dude, sorry. 😅

this is just an excuse for susan to have sex with lilith, zelda, marie, hilda, big witch orgies + susan. witches bathing in the blood of their sacrifices, susan so nervous and timid but unable to deny her desire. the witch’s dressing her in their gothic garb.

how does the rest of the fam get it on this?

max joins the church too. she has more age-appropriate conduct with sabrina and the weird sisters, and what have you. just smooches and over-the-clothes groping, and whatnot, even tho the weird sisters, at least, would be interested in going further if given the opportunity.

billy dies in starcourt again, so he gets revived in the cain pit! hilda is the one who goes to him after bc she’s been in the cain pit many a time (i am still BIG side-eyeing zelda for repeatedly murdering her sister since childhood). hilda understands how jarring it can be to come back. suddenly alive!billy is freaking tf out but she brings him inside the mortuary, wraps him up in a big blanket burrito and they have a talk. hilda explains that he’s going to be okay and rubs his back while he tentatively sips the hot chocolate she made.

after billy’s calmed down, she brings max and susan in. max and susan can’t do as much magic as the caos witches— they’re mortals, after all, it’s not in their nature —but they’ve gained some abilities thru being in the church, following the rituals, and being carnally involved with the immortal witches. max happily shows him some of her new magic tricks.

horror movie #4: another crossover with caos. heavily inspired by creepshow episode s2e1, model kid (which i already v blatantly referenced in the last axe snafu update and i’m not ashamed, bc it’s a good series i love v much).

billy picks max up from the byers’ place rly late one night. it’s dark and the weather is bad and okay, yeh, he might be a little high. and a little concussed. he pissed neil off pretty bad the other day and okay, actually he’s defo concussed bc he doesn’t even remember what he did wrong!

needless to say, they take a wrong turn somewhere. they end up in greendale. at first max is pissed. she yells at him a lot! yells so loud hilda can hear them thru the walls of dr. cerberus’s comic shop/diner. she goes outside to see what all the fuss is abt, hilda never rly ignores youth in need. we love hilda, she deserved so much better…i’m getting distracted, okay, back to the story.

hilda ushers them inside. max is like, “ooh, comics? horror junk and comics? nvm, i’m not mad anymore.” she pats billy’s arm and wanders away to go check stuff out! hilda makes billy sit down. caos canon established that she’s psychic, at least when she wants to be. she smells the weed but she also sees his life, his trauma. billy doesn’t remember what he did to piss neil off or the abuse that followed, but hilda sees it clear as day.

he’s rude and cranky w her when she probes a little too much for his liking. hilda gently but firmly reprimands him and gets him a milkshake on this house. then she goes to check on max. she steers max to a v particular section of the shop, the one that sells model kits. now, max isn’t *huge* into model kits BUT they are p neat and she enjoys them well enough. more so when the weather is nasty and she can’t go outside. or when she needs smth to do with her hands (a trait she shares w susan) to distract herself and ease some of the anxiety when she hears her brother being beaten or her mother being shouted at.

max is actually rly impressed by the array of models. vintage ones and newer ones. monsters, slashers, final girls, tiny accessories like knives and bloodied heads. but when she gets to the paint-your-own shelf, her jaw drops to the floor.

there’s one that looks just like neil. unpainted, plain gray vinyl, but undoubtedly her stepdad. the expression on the five inch figurine is one frozen in fear.

“i think that one’s calling to you,” hilda prompts her, with the softest smile.

max blinks away her bewilderment altho she still can’t speak. she turns to hilda and turns her empty pockets inside out. hilda just waves her hand. she tells her it’s on the house. that it wouldn’t be fair if she gave billy smth on the house, but not max.

speaking of billy, when he finishes his milkshake, he’s suddenly totally sober and healed!! no more high buzzing in his blood. no more pounding headache or concussion fogging his mind. he doesn’t feel his bruises anymore, rolls his sleeve up, and realizes they simply aren’t there anymore. like they dissolved off his skin.

albeit it’s muttered under his breath, but billy does thank hilda. then he and max are on their way. max shows him the suspiciously familiar figurine in the box. this night cannot get weirder.

max knows what to do with the model kit. she does. she isn’t sure how she knows, but she does. she grapples with it for a long time. neil’s the closest thing she has to a dad these days. and things aren’t bad all the time, ofc.

sometimes neil gives max a ride when mom and billy aren’t available. sometimes he brings her ice cream entirely unprompted. neil’s the one who picks max up off the sidewalk when she wipes out super bad on her skateboard, carries her inside and then later to the car when her cut doesn’t stop bleeding and she ends up needing stitches.

but most of the time he sucks. she can’t rly be herself around him. he's indifferent to her interest at best, scornful at worst. he would hate all her friends. he scares the shit out of her when he’s angry. he doesn’t have a problem belittling her mother in front of her, tearing susan to shreds and making her out like she’s lower than dirt, the most worthless person on the planet. doesn’t have a problem beating billy in front of her or glaring at her with the promise that she’ll be next if she dares to voice her dissent.

max doesn’t always want to do what she knows she’s meant to do with the model. bc she's kind at heart and bc on the good days, she genuinely does have mixed feelings toward neil. never enough to hope he'll be better, he's proven he won't...but maybe enough to hope he won't get worse, either.

then comes the night neil breaks ribs. bad, like we’re talking, a-sharp-spear-of-broken-rib-punctures-billy’s-lung-and-he’s-coughing-up-blood-bad. that’s a trip to the emergency room. in the days that follow, at her next dnd meeting w the party, max places the fully and attentively painted model of her stepdad on the table. normally her pals would protest her derailing the intended game, but they can sense it, yk, that smth is different.

max takes over as dungeon master to the protest of no one, all other mouths sealed as if bewitched and spellbound. she narrators a scene where the demogorgon devours neil and uses the demogorgon piece and the model for demonstration.

when max returns home, neil is strewn across the house in gory chunks and torn wallpaper curls around massive claw marks.

#writerwhowritesao3 #susan hargrove #max mayfield #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #crossover #hilda spellman #my scenario tag #i may have gotten carried away #my bad #it's october!#i'm in big horror mode

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misc-hamefura-etc · 3 years

Text

WN Bonus story - Made by everyone

One of the bonus stories from the WN that wasn’t included in the LNs (yet). This was mostly machine translated. If someone has a better TL let me know and I’ll take this down.

Otherwise it’s another cute story of Bakarina and friends! XD

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Made by everyone

My name is Catarina Klaes, 10 years old.

The only daughter of the Duke's family, the fiancée of the third prince of this country ... and the villainous daughter of the maiden game "FORTUNE LOVER" set in this world.

One day when I was eight years old, I remembered the memory of my previous life when I hit my head, and realized that I was reincarnated as a villain daughter who has only a ruin flag in the world of otome games!

So, by the time I was fifteen years old when the game started, I was trying to avoid the ruin flag, but ... I've come here and a big crisis has come!

It was this morning.

As usual, I asked Anne to peel off the blankets and wake me up, and the weather was nice, so I was eager to go to the garden dashingly, saying, "Now, let's work hard on the fields."

It was a ruthlessly devastated field.

The crops that were growing are full of holes, and the ones that will fall on the soil and will bear fruit are similar. In addition, there are sticky white things all over the place.

It's been a few years since I started to make a field in the garden of the Klaes family, and it's a garden of an aristocratic mansion. But ...

A foreign enemy has appeared here.

The garden was surrounded by fences and so that wild animals wouldn't come in easily ... but they were coming from the sky.

The appearance of several birds singing cutely with chips was adorable in the garden with a feeling of "pretty".

Recently, I felt that the number of visitors I saw at home has increased since when i first regained my memories.

However, no way they would ruin the fields I made with great care like this ...

"Damn ~, those sparrows!"

I cursed.

When I approach, it escapes temporarily, but when I leave, it returns to the field and finally pecks the fruit.

Quite a few visitors? No, it's done by the number of birds, so it seems that the precious vegetables will all be eaten.

In addition, their poop is scattered everywhere, so it's sticky with white poop all over the place.

This is bad, I have to take some measures!

Chair Catalina Klaes.

Congressman Catalina Klaes.

Secretary Catalina Klaes.

Now, let's break through the current situation and open a strategy meeting to avoid the crisis in the fields.

"Well, everyone, please give us your opinion to protect the important fields."

"Yes"

"……Can I have a minute? 』\

"Yes, please Catarina Klaes"

"I understand that the fields have been devastated and I'm shocked, but do I need to bother to hold a strategy meeting for this project? 』\

"Well, what are you talking about! It's a critical situation because our important field has been devastated! This is a meeting project! 』\

"... But the fields have nothing to do with our doom flag ..."

"Well, I've been enjoying it as a hobby since I knew that it wouldn't be form of communication with the origin of my magic, but ... I mean, now I've set the doom flag aside and it's a field! 』\

"... No, it would be useless if you left it. The doom flag. It depends on Catalina's life. "

"Well, it's okay, because the countermeasures have been put in place ... Well, the snake toys are getting better, and the dirt bump isn't like it's getting higher. 』\

"The quality of snake toys has certainly improved, but I don't think the soil bump has improved at all since the first year ..."

"No, there are times when it feels a little higher, even though it's a few millimeters."

"... It's probably because of that. I feel that 15 cm is the limit. "

"Oh, we're doing a lot about the Doom flag countermeasures, and for the time being, we've gathered in this way, so let's talk about the field countermeasures now."

"Yes"

"Well, that's right."

"So, do you have any good ideas? 』\

"Yes. You should avoid birds in the field. "

"For example, avoid birds? 』\

"Well, uh, put a plastic bottles on the fence? 』\

"Isn't that cat counter measures? 』\

"That's right. Then, the grandmother of the previous life didn't say that you should smell the dog. "

"I think it was a measure against nyctereutees."

(TL Note: sorry i have no idea what shes trying to prevent here)

"Then, what to do to avoid birds? 』\

"... a scarecrow?"

"That's it. Scarecrow! Grandma had a scarecrow in the field! 』\

"Good nice. If you put up a scarecrow, it would seem like there are people and the birds won't come near. "

"Okay, let's make a scarecrow right away! 』\

"Yes!"

In this way, I decided to start making scarecrows ...

"In the first place, how should I make it, can I do it if I have a tree?"

When I was thinking about how to make it, my brother Keith said

"What's wrong big sister?"

He kindly asked me, so I talked about the fact that the field was in danger due to sparrows and I was thinking of making a scarecrow as a countermeasure.

"... Scarecrow to avoid birds ... It's amazing what my big sister thinks. I've heard of it, but I haven't seen it properly, so why don't you ask the gardener or someone who seems to know more?"

"I see!"

Let’s just ask the gardener Tom Ji-chan.

I immediately asked Tom Ji-chan how to make a scarecrow.

Tom Ji-chan, who knows a lot, knew how to make a scarecrow and told me how to make.

I had gathered the necessary materials as taught.

Then, with Keith helping me, "Now, let's start making scarecrows!” And started preparing in the garden,

"Catarina, what on earth are you trying to do this time?"

My fiancé Geordo, the third prince of the country, popped up and asked with a smile.

(Geordo comes into the mansion with a free pass, so he always comes suddenly)

"Oh, Geordo, I'm going to make a scarecrow from now on."

"What is a scarecrow?"

Oh, the prince doesn't know about Scarecrows, well, he's the prince.

"Scarecrow is a doll in the shape of a person in a rural field."

"Oh, I think I've seen it from a distance, but why make such a thing?"

"That's right ----"

I enthusiastically talked about the crisis in the fields caused by sparrows, so I decided to make a scarecrow! After he got over his shock, he lowered his head as his shoulder trembled. (this is a common Geordo habit).

"If so, let's help me together." he said.

Geordo is a super high-spec person who can even work in the fields smartly, so I'm grateful for his help.

I asked Geordo for cooperation, saying "please".

This time, Geordo's twin brother Alan and his fiancé Mary also came to visit.

When I explained to them that we were going to make a scarecrow,

Alain burst with laughter, "No, you're just in the field, but I'm wondering what it's like to make a bird ward."

Mary said "Please let me cooperate for Catalina's precious field."

However, if the number of people increased to this point, it would be better to make several Scarecrows rather than making one Scarecrow together, so it was decided to divide the team.

"I'll make it with Catalina, because I'm her fiancé."

"My big sister originally intended to make it with me."

When Geordo and Keith started say those things,

"Katarina-sama, I'm here to play."

"Apologies for the intrusion"

Sophia and Nicole, the Ascart siblings also came --- the number of Scarecrow-making members increased to seven in a blink of an eye, so I decided to make three.

At Nicole's suggestion, "Because it's a hassle to divide up, let's draw lots," the lots divided us into three teams.

"Now, let's do our best"

"Yes, Catalina, let's make a nice scarecrow."

"I like cute things"

Me, Mary, Sophia's girl team.

"I mean, what is Scarecrow? Nicole, do you understand?"

"Oh, I've seen it before when I went to visit a rural village."

Alan, Nicole's team.

"... Well, why do I have to work with you?"

"Geordo -sama, I will return the line exactly as it is."

Geordo , Keith's team.

In this way, everyone made a scarecrow for each.

Everyone helped me with the fields, but it was also fun to do different work together.

And three scarecrows were completed.

The three scarecrows in the garden, the materials themselves should not have changed so much, but each one has its own individuality.

Scarecrow made by our girl’s team is like a cute girl with long hair and fluffy clothes in response to Sophia's suggestion that "I like cute things anyway".

Nicole and Alan team are said to have faithfully reproduced what Nicole had seen before ... It seems that it had a very good male style ... The result was a macho male style scarecrow. ..

And the team of Geordo and Keith ... they created a very realistic human-like scarecrow.

It was a scarecrow like a work of art that brought together the power of Geordo, who can do anything, and Keith, who is dexterous.

However, the impression of everyone who saw such a scarecrow was:

"It looks like it's starting to move."

"It's too real and scary"

"Why did you make it so real?"

"..."

It was not good enough.

For that reason,

"I told to make a human shape, so I just did what I was told."

"... I haven't seen Scarecrow. I don't know what it is."

Geordo looked a little sick, and Keith said that he was a little embarrassed, but when I saw the Scarecrows, I was impressed. They could definitely deceive the sparrows!

"If it looks like a human, you can definitely deceive a sparrow! Thank you for the wonderful scarecrow."

When I said that and thanked them, they looked down a little in the same way.

"... No. There is nothing like this."

"... Yeah. That's right."

They answered.

When I looked closely at the two people who looked strange, their faces were blushing.

Oh, no!

It wasn't that hot yet, but everyone had to work outdoors for quite a long time, so they got hot flashes!

The two of them made a particularly elaborate work of art.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice it. It was hot. Let's go indoors and rehydrate immediately!"

I'm sorry that I'm mentally older than everyone else, but I'm not sure.

I hurriedly took everyone indoors and served tea.

The tea after work was exceptionally delicious, and we all made scarecrows, so we talked about that.

Geordo and Keith were also glad that when they had tea indoors, their hot flashes seemed to have calmed down and their complexion had returned.

And three scarecrows were placed around the field of the Klaes family.

Girls, Macho men, and real humans.

Occasionally, the servant I saw was mistaken for a person and made a surprised voice, but thanks to him, the sparrow seemed to be able to deceive him well and did not come near, so he was able to escape from the crisis in the field.

#otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta #my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom #katarina claes #keith claes #geordo stuart #mary hunt #sophia ascart #nicol ascart #alan stuart

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gospelofme · 3 years

Text

57 Thoughts I Had While Watching Part 2 of The Bad Batch Season Finale (Spoilers ahead!!)

I do like how Part 2 picks right up where Part 1 left off. I prefer that method since it makes it feel like one connected piece. Like how Rogue One ended where A New Hope kicks off.

Ya know, I wouldn’t mind the thunderstorms.

Okay the explosions are beautifully animated. The blues, the sparks, the orange flames. And I like how they’re realistically placed. So many shows with explosions don’t have them right close to the characters, even if they’re supposed to be all around them.

This episode is kinda darkly lit. Not like Battle of Winterfell in Game of Thrones.

Okay yeah, that clone reporting the destruction…thats some sadness there.

That inner alarm has me thinking “oh shit my flight has changed gates again hasn’t it!!”

Damn, imagine being unconscious and wake up in a flooding compartment with a droid and that one kid who took your place.

Okay how strong is that knife. I kinda expect it to break in half. Wrecker would

probably try to trade with Hunter after that.

The shot of the burning buildings on the water is so beautiful too. The reflections were well done.

About AZ being like “oh hey homie, you survived being blown up but now you’re drowning. And I’m watching while this literal child tries to move metal debris off of you.”

Okay Omega using her bow like that is genius. But please wee baby don’t hit Crosshair by accident. And the way the bolts underwater were animated. 🤌🏻🤌🏻

And Crosshair being all “wtf?!”

Dang Omega is so take charge here.

Okay the sprays of water from the door is so well done. And omg they just pop outta there lmao!!!! About how Omega is caught and they just let Crosshair slide on the floor.

Haha Crosshair being like “Hunter, you fucker did you break something?!”

I really wish it wasn’t so darkly lit, but it does bring a sense of realism. The power is out, so what we’re able to see is what the characters are able to see with flashlights. Plus I’m sure this would look different on my TV than iPad.

The music is so pretty, so emotional. Oh damn poor AZ.

Oh never mind. He’s good.

Crosshair quit being a poop and follow them please.

Echo and that smell lmao.

“Blind allegiance makes you a pawn. A real leader protects his squad.”

Huh. Interesting. But isn’t blind allegiance what the clones had in the Republic? Isn’t that what Clone Force 99 had in the Republic? At least mostly. Some clones didn’t have that obviously, like Cut.

Ooohh Crosshair’s expression when Hunter knocked his shoulder. That seemed like surprise. There is something to that.

Hmmmmmm I’m with Crosshair on that. Going through a glass tunnel with cracks in it hundreds of feet below the surface would be a no from me. Also, what about water pressure? Is that not a thing there? Like wouldn’t you get a massive headache traveling through that? Or maybe not….idk.

Oh fuck Wrecker letting Crosshair know what’s what. I do like that he’s finally expressing how he feels. I’ve always thought there was more of a brotherly relationship between Wrecker and Crosshair than Crosshair had with the others. And Wrecker has a point, Crosshair didn’t even try to come back to them. Of course that really isn’t a fair statement either I guess. Wrecker should remember how he couldn’t control what he did when his chip kicked on.

And Tech jumping in and saying that Crosshair has always been “severe and unyielding” is a good way to let us know a bit more of what’s normal behavior for Crosshair. I like how he’s reminded Wrecker that some things Crosshair can’t help due to just how he is (likely a byproduct of the enhancement experiments).

“Understanding you does not mean I agree with you.” Ugh if only more people had this mindset. Also, the whole “why are you defending me?” sounds like Tech doesn’t usually leap to Crosshair’s defense (even though that’s not what he’s doing here). Which further makes me think that the brotherly relationship that usually exists between team members (like Domino squad eventually, Rex/Echo/Fives/Kix/Jesse/Hardcase/Tup) doesn’t exist here between all the guys. It’s more sporadic. Crosshair seems to get along better with Wrecker (in their own way, teasing and their droid death counts) than he does with Tech.

Also perhaps they should not stop so often…ya know, just in case the tunnel implodes.

Oh nope nope nope. No underwater tubes and sea monsters for Bethany.

AZ is so peppy. Like he sounds so positive when relaying bad news. He sounds like the kinda droid that would be like “good news is you have great cholesterol, bad news is you have cancer. But yay no diabetes!”

Oh yeah I kinda forgot Hunter wasn’t with them they first got to the private lab. And oh damn, Omega is technically older than them. The whole accelerated aging thing is just so unfair.

Well we really couldn’t expect a glass tunnel to fully survive aerial bombardment. Better start swimming fuckers!!

Damn, someone find AZ a charger! I bet Tech has one for his datapad that boy is attached too. He seems like the type to never be without a phone charger. He also seems like the type to not want to share it because no one else in the squad treats their charge cords with respect.

Dad gum Crosshair, I didn’t hear you spouting off any bright ideas. Geez, who peed in your wheaties?!

Hunter takes things too personally?! Weren’t you being all Salty McSourpus over Hunter leaving your ass on Kamino for shooting at him and the others? Were you not taking that too personally? But kudos to Hunter for reminding him the Empire peaced the fuck out and left him to die on Kamino. Although…Crosshair does sound like he’s trying not to care about that. Like it does bother him but he’s acting like he don’t give a fuck.

“The Empire will control the entire Galaxy. And I’m going to be a part of it.” Uhm, sir…you’re currently in a secret lab at the bottom of the ocean with no means of escape right now. How do you plan to be a part of the Empire from down here? Like, are you going to establish the underwater branch of the Empire and assert the Emperor’s control over the sea critters?

Ugh Omega trying so hard to bond with Crosshair. Like the parallel between this scene and the holding cell scene. And her thinking she was wrong about the chip making him behave like a dick. Oh sweet baby, you’re not wrong. He still has that thing. But he has always been a dick per Tech’s words earlier. But she’s trying so hard to show him the similarities between them.

I’ve noticed Crosshair does a lot of pushing people away. Like he’s been doing that with Hunter and Omega this whole season. Speaking harshly to them both (although I think some of the things he says to Hunter, he’s always wanted to say). But I think it’s more that he wants to avoid disappointing them, so he shoves them away to prevent that feeling. Like perhaps he thinks he isn’t worthy to be around them, that they’ll be better off without him around.

Oh fuck, look at you contributing now Mr. I Am Going To Complain About Other People’s Ideas.

Did they have to draw straws to see who got their own pod and who had to team up with who? Like,

Hunter: “Someone has to go with Tech.”

Crosshair, Wrecker: “Not it!”

Echo: “not it, fuck I wasn’t fast enough.”

Oh the wee child is getting her own pod. Okay then.

Of course Hunter and Crosshair get doubled up. I bet they argue the whole time.

Crosshair: “stop breathing all the air!!”

Hunter: “stop standing on my foot!!”

Crosshair: “well it’s not my fault you have Sasquatch feet!”

Oh damn. Well bye Omega. It was nice knowing you. Crosshair probably has your eulogy already written.

Hm, so Tech never shared his datapad charge cord with AZ. Bummer.

Awww poor AZ. He was a good droid. We’ll remember how he OMG OMEGA WHAT THE FUCK?!!???

Again is water pressure not a thing in Star Wars?

Sweetie. He’s metal. You won’t be strong enough to pull him along with you.

Oh fuck Crosshair! Oh damn the look on his face is like “Hunter, get you ugly ass face out of my shot.” Oh damn, boy has got some good eyesight, I want a piece of that.

Bruh, that’s gotta hurt. You just saved the kid they all love and they got you at blaster point. Buuuuuut at the same time you haven’t expressed the most positive attitude towards said kid either. So maybe they have a good reason to think you’d shoot her? Still. Damn. That’s gotta hurt, since if it had been the good ol’ days they’d be like “nice shot buddy!”

Hunter looks more wary than upset honestly. Like he isn’t sure why Crosshair did that, but he’s not sure if Crosshair would want him expressing gratitude either. Hunter doesn’t seem to know how to treat him any more. Crosshair belittles him and speaks harshly to him, but then saves Omega. It’s almost like old Crosshair is still in there, knowing how attached the team is to Omega. Even if he does think she’s not in the safest environment with them.

Oh…omg what is this?! I just noticed, no rain on Kamino….AND SUNSHINE?! Like is that a fucking sunrise??!!?? Oh shit you guys there is symbolism here!!! Like a new start or something impossible has happened. Like there has never been sunshine on Kamino, it’s always stormed. Always. Always and forever it has done that. But after the destruction of Tipoca City, the rains cease and the sunshine comes out. Like….omg guys. It’s pretty!!

Interesting. Omega seems sad that a place she didn’t want to ever return to is gone. But I guess that’s probably the notion that she’s essentially homeless setting in. That the only home she’s had (before Clone Force 99) is gone.

Also, I have this theory that Ghost Fives probably travels with Echo, and he’d likely be like “good! Fuck that place. Killing Tup there and all. Bitches.”

Echo: “stfu Fives, she’s sad okay.”

Honestly I’m not surprised Crosshair refused their offer to come with them. He has his pride and I feel like he doesn’t want to admit aligning with the Empire was a mistake. That he was wrong and Hunter was right. Especially after being all Pro-Empire and talking about how they’re going to be what the Galaxy needs.

“Consider us even.” GIRL he admits it! He was saving YOU!! YOU! Not the dumb droid, YOU!!!!

His face says it all when they pull away. Like he regrets not going with them, but he can’t bring himself to stay with them. He’s really conflicted right now. He has programming in his head telling him one thing and another portion of his mind reminding him that Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, and even Echo care about him. That they’re a team. He even wanted them to join the Empire so they could all get back together. He does want to be with them, but it’s going to take time to get passed the war in his head.

Oh damn, Nala Se and some Commando buddies. Yeah there’s something up with her. She seems to have gained a lot out of this. Making herself more important than Lama Su and likely more important than the other scientists from Kamino. I wonder if this was her plan all along. It’s so hard to tell what Kaminoans are thinking because they don’t express emotions facially or even vocally.

I read a post somewhere about Nala Se doing childish science experiments. Like the baking soda/vinegar volcano. And now I can’t get the image out of my head of her teaching like a high school chemistry class where you get to do those classic science fair experiments. Things exploding, clones accidentally gassing each other at a table. Someone betting someone else 5 credits to drink a solution.

@leias-left-hair-bun @halzore @escapedthesarlacc @eyecandyeoz

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #the mandalorian #the bad batch spoiler #the bad batch spoilers #crosshair tbb #commander crosshair #sargent hunter #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb echo #arc trooper echo #tbb wrecker #tbb omega

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff.

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget.

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement.

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier.

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs.

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child.

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands.

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance.

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother.

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement.

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment.

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd.

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over.

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.”

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie.

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors.

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper.

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous.

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls.

“ Millennium Falcon playset.”

“ You and a million other little boys. “

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face.

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street. “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity.

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #frankie morales x you #francisco morales imagine #frankie morales imagines #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier imagines #catfish imagine #catfish x reader #catfish x you #jos2020xmasspecial

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purplestrawberrywerewolf · 3 years

Text

Raya gets her revenge

Part 2!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33232162

So, i think I might make this a mini series based off my own experiences because the things I have experienced are like so weird and my life should be one of those shows where the camera crew comes out and says "Ha! It's a prank" so let me know in the comments if I should.

She knew this was revenge. She knew because she was suffering the same way Raya did. She thought they were over this. She thought Raya would forget what she had put her through but instead, she remembered.

Every last detail.

Raya had called her that morning. Namaari’s phone rang as she finished feeding the cats and saw the contact was her best friend. She answered. “Hello?”

“Hey dep la. I need you to do me a favor” she didn’t know why, but when Raya said that, she felt her stomach churn. “Uh, sure what’s going on?” She asked. Raya sighed on the other side of the phone. “I got called into work this morning and I was rushing and didn’t get chance to let Tuk Tuk out. Do you think you can?” There it was. The ‘favor.’

“Umm..”

“Please? I cleaned the dang cat litter for you, the least you can do is just take my dog out for a walk” she had a point. Namaari sighed. “Y-yeah, okay.”

“Thank you! You have the key to the apartment so you can get in. Thanks dep la” the girl hung up and Namaari found herself groaning. She liked animals, don’t get her wrong, but she wasn’t much of a dog person. She preferred cats.

They were easy to take care off and only meowed, not bark super loud. She grabbed her keys and mask before heading to the car.

~*~

The Fang girl entered the apartment building and went to Raya’s apartment. She unlocked the door, expecting it to be quiet like hers, instead a big long-haired dog came and scared her.

“Ah!” She yelped when Tuk Tuk ran towards her, barking in excitement. “Ow, shhh!” She shushed the dog, cringing at the volume. “Hi, I’m happy to see you too” she said as she pet the dog.

The dog calmed down as it ran off to the kitchen. Namaari spotted his blue leash and the set of black roll of poop bags on the table. She took a deep breath. This was easy, she cleans cat litter all the time, so she’s dealt with poop before, so if Tuk Tuk poops, it’s fine!

Right?

She grabbed the items before whistling. Tuk Tuk came to her panting and running in circles in excitement, knowing he was about to go on his walks he loved. Namaari couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement.

“Come on you big furball. Let's take you for a walk” she said as she clipped the leash on and lead him out the door.

They descended the stairs and Tuk Tuk did his business. This was easy! He’s peeing now, and maybe drop some poops but overall, it was running smoothly right now. They walked a few more steps before he did his stance that automatically told Namaari he was doing his business.

She pulled out the bag, ripping it off as she tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. She kept rubbing the bag to make it open but instead, it stayed closed and the smell was getting worse.

“Ugh, come on” she groaned. She was wearing a mask but the smell was going through. Finally, the bag opened and she bent down to grab it. “eww” she squealed as she closed the bag. “That’s disgusting” she said as she spotted an alley. She decided to walk to it to throw his business out when Tuk Tuk spotted a squirrel.

“What are you-ah!” She yelped when she was dragged across the sidewalk towards the tree as Tuk Tuk barked at a squirrel. “Tuk Tuk! Come on!” She groaned as she pulled him, but to avail.

She groaned as she waited for him to calm down and continued their walk. She would’ve pulled him, but she didn’t want to hurt him because if she did, Raya would never forgive her.

She walked through the neighborhood, admiring the trees and flowers as she walked. Things were going smoothly until she saw a guy coming towards her with what looked like a German shepherd. Namaari couldn’t help but panic slightly, not being a fan of those specifically when she got chased by one when she was 10.

From what she remembered, Tuk Tuk was a friendly dog, and liked making friends with both humans and dogs. Tuk Tuk and the dog both stopped to sniff each other.

The guy smiled at Namaari, but she could tell it was a flirty one. “Hi” he greeted. She smiled back, trying to be polite. “Hey” she responded. “You know, I’ve never seen you. You come here often?” He asked.

Namaari kept herself from groaning and hopefully he couldn’t see her cringe behind her mask as she recalled the amount of times men have asked her that when she was at the bar with Raya or another friend. Usually, it ended with her turning them down.

“U-uh, no. My friend just wanted me to walk her dog so you know” she gestured to Tuk Tuk. “Oh okay. What's your name?” He asked. “Namaari” she answered. She silently pleaded Tuk Tuk to hurry up so she could leave.

“Oh, I’m Mason. You’re cute by the way. Are you single?” He asked. Namaari tried so hard to not cringe. She also was single, but wasn’t looking for anyone.

“Uhm, yeah but I’m not looking to date right now” she answered. “Ah, well makes sense. But hey, if you’re looking to, I live down that street, so you can come by” he winked before continuing his walk with his dog. “See you, cutie” he said as he left.

Namaari couldn’t help but blush but also be absolutely uncomfortable. “You know, you could’ve been fast about sniffing the dog instead of leaving me there to burn” she said to Tuk Tuk who happily walked ahead of her, dragging her with him.

The walk was mostly calming but also had its moments when Tuk Tuk would run after a rodent. “No!” Namaari said as she struggled to pull the big dog back. How he went from a tiny pup to this big, 50 pound something dog will forever be a mystery.

“Ugh!” Namaari fell on her bottom as Tuk Tuk kept barking and she groaned as she got up. Raya knew this would happen. She knew Namaari would struggle to walk Tuk Tuk, since she’s only taken care of cats.

She knew this was revenge.

“Come on” she said as she dragged Tuk Tuk back to the apartment.

~*~

“And then, this guy comes up to me and starts flirting with me” Namaari explained her adventure on walking Tuk Tuk. Raya had come home early and decided to get some food for her and Namaari.

As they ate, Namaari told her about the walk. “Wait, wait. Was he kind of buff, short hair and a little taller than you?” She asked. Namaari furrowed a brow. “Yes” she answered.

Raya rolled her eyes. “Yup, that’s Mason. He's the neighborhood flirt. Loves flirting with girls to see who would jump in his bed. Trust me, he’s flirted with me a couple of times” she said as she took a bite of her rice.

Namaari rolled her eyes. “Men are so weird” she commented. Raya snorted as they finished their dinner.

Well, at least Namaari knew one thing; Raya got her revenge.

#Raya #Namaari #Namaari struggling to walk Tuk Tuk #based off a true story #hehe

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miikewheelers · 3 years

Text

a3 character headcanons (spring troupe edition)

just because i can lololol

sakuya

has an extreme aversion to raw mushrooms for some reason. he feels nauseous just looking at them, and things get WAAAAAAY worse when someone is cooking with mushrooms and he can smell them (especially if they’re being sautéed, very much like myself kjdfhsdj)

actually really enjoys playing minecraft, he and itaru have sessions every now and then on his realm

v v shy when it comes to physical contact!! he doesn’t usually initiate any hugs or other touches, unless if he’s confident in his relationship with the other person, but if he’s hugged out of the blue by someone he’s still getting used to, it takes him a moment to respond or hug them back (but he’s gonna be a blushy mess the whole time uwuwu)

enjoys singing in his free time!! he’s actually a pretty good singer and has wanted to do musicals in the past, so he’s hoping he gets that opportunity with the spring troupe!! has a voice a little on the higher and lighter side, so a tenor role would probably suit him best ;w;

masumi

gets cold very easily, hates winter and always layers up to the extreme whenever he goes outside on chilly days

actually a very soff teddy bear on the inside and is super duper caring ;w;

pretty camera shy actually, he always turns a little red whenever he notices someone filming or taking pictures without him knowing before. he also tries to hide whenever kazu is vlogging in the dorm for his youtube channel

he absolutely LOVES music. he listens to it all the time, whenever he’s doing anything that he can focus on with it. he usually listens to rock and lo-fi beats/ambient music, but he dabbles in mainstream pop, alternative, and k-pop every now and then (but he’s too embarrassed to admit it)

tsuzuru

gets teased and pranked by itaru all. the. time. ice water in the shower, fake poop on the toilet, scare pranks, blasting inappropriate music when he’s sleeping, basically anything you can think of skjdhfsjkdhfsd

horribly afraid of spiders!! he hates all bugs but he’s super DUPER averse to spiders bc in his own words “they don’t need that many legs”

because he has so many brothers, he’s learned how to use his people-reading skills with the other company members. he’s adjusted very well to the others’ personalities and knows exactly how to get them to comply with his requests

ADHD as ALL HELL. i mean, have u even seen the anime and/or read the stories??? my mans stayin up all night writing a SINGLE FUCKING SCRIPT. gotta be a product of hyperfocus skjfhskdjfhs

itaru

kind of has to be pushed by the other boys (esp tsuzuru bc he’s mom) to get more fruits and vegetables in his diet. he usually kind of just lives off of pizza, curry and soda

he becomes very whiny whenever he has any problems, usually mostly to annoy tsuzuru bc he’s fun to make fun of (even tho his comebacks are sharp as knives). he usually exaggerates a lot but he just does it for the lols

ticklish af lmao. he and chikage sometimes go to starbucks together after work, and chikage just fucks with him when he’s placing the order at the drive through by just reaching over and poking or tickling his side or under his armpits.

uses terms like “pog” and “based.” does video game streams as well as occasional political commentary and he often drops these terms, esp if he’s streaming with kazu

btw did y’all know that he and i share a birthday??? uwu

citron

studies a lot of languages other than japanese, including english!! he’s particularly interested in korean, russian, and spanish. his english skills actually aren’t as good as his japanese skills tho ;n;

prefers to pay with cash over credit cards, he finds it easier to keep track of his expenses and spending that way

doesn’t really know how to handle small animals, probably bc he’s afraid of hurting or squishing them by accident!! he doesn’t really like lizards or frogs, he thinks they feel too slimy in his hands for his comfort

whenever masumi isn’t around, he’s the “designated bug-killer” (name given by itaru), even though he doesn’t really kill any of the bugs (he scoops them up in a cup and lets them back outside). sakuya, tsuzuru, and itaru all absolutely hate bugs, so he’s usually called upon for backup if masumi isn’t present to take care of them

i’m prolly gonna get to the other troupes at some point as soon as i come up with some hcs for them sjkdlfhskjdf

#a3!#a3! headcanons #headcanons #sakuya sakuma #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #citron #spring troupe #a3 text #text #noah rambles

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alittlecursed · 4 years

Note

What were then henchmen like as kids/babies

As some villains grew up with their henchmen or raised them

Pain and Panic

As kids, they are mischievous troublemakers! They terrorized everyone near them, subjecting them to horrible pranks, thievery, causing property damage, even causing mortal wounds to humans

Hades had to partially raise them since he did take them in when they were young. He had to put the fear of Hades in them cause they still kept making trouble for him

Pain and Panic complied with Hades, and their cowardice came out because someone actually stood up to them

Hades is mean to them but it’s for their good. The better their behavior is, the better he treats them

Diablo

Maleficent cared for him as a baby raven so Diablo sees her as a mother-figure. It took a while for Mal to train him like not pooping in her room, not making a mess, not throwing tantrums when he doesn’t get his way, basically a child

At one point he could never sleep at all unless he was sleeping on her person or her bed with her. He needed to feel her presence and smell her scent. Clingy

Sometimes Mal got worried because she couldn’t find him. He would go away for hours because he would find a place to hide or he was exploring the castle and getting lost

Mal takes full credit for teaching Diable how to fly

Roscoe and DeSoto

Roscoe was always better at listening to commands when being trained. He would slap DeSoto when he wasn’t paying attention which would lead to a fight between them

DeSoto was a troublesome puppy. He spent more time in the dog house while being housebroken.

DeSoto ran away from home one time because he was jealous of Roscoe and thought Sykes preferred his brother, and although he could last days out in the streets, he missed his brother and his master. Sykes found him and brought him home

They don’t show affection like normal master and dogs, they have their own way of showing affection which others might see as brute

Flotsam and Jetsam

Ursula found them when they were kids, so she raises them a bit. They liked to intertwine their bodies between rocks and any caverns and holes. And they would meddle inside of Ursula’s cabinets and would sometimes break her vials of ingredients

When Ursula had customers over, the eel brothers were wary because they were mostly merpeople, but Ursula pushed them out of their comfort zone by forcing them to be around

It helped them gain confidence in interacting with merpeople and polishing their manipulation skills. Like, Ursula would give lessons on how to trick merpeople

She was very affectionate with them when they were kids and still shows lots of affection. Sometimes she cuddles them too much and gives them whatever they ask for

LeFou

LeFou and Gaston have known each other since their childhood.

Gaston sought him out a lot because LeFou was his only actual ‘friend’ and LeFou hanged out with him because he admired Gaston

They would play out in the woods and the fields of the village, hunting small animals, playing with weapons, one time they even got lost in the woods

As kids, Gaston wasn’t as rude to LeFou as they are as adults, yeah he picked on him and made him carry his things but it was leveled.

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

when a deal backfires (Inuyasha)

When a deal backfires

Inuyasha was NOT a happy camper as him and Kagome waited in the room they had rented for the night. Of course ever since a curse had been laid on him that left him with ZERO bladder and bowel control he had rarely been a happy camper anyways so by this point she was used to him sulking like a toddler who didn't get his dessert. "I can't believe you went and worked this out behind my back." The pampered puppy growled for about the millionth time (OK, it was more like 50th but he was getting annoying!) "Inuyasha, at the risk of sounding like a broken record.. We both know that we need jewel shards right? that's the only way to give you back a degree of control? and we can't start chipping up how much of the jewel we've put together JUST for that." She Said, using the same tone of voice one would use with a slow child. "Well..Yeah. It would be nice to stop crapping myself..but..can't we just go beat up some random monster an-" He started, rising off of the soft bed with a bit of a struggle. Between the softness of the mattress and the thick bulky plastic diapers Kagome brought from the future (Along with a red onesie the half demon was currently wearing) It took more effort then he wanted to admit and he wasn't fully on his feet when she rolled her eyes and shoved him back onto the bed. "Look pup." She started, smirking and knowing how much he HATED his new nick name. "Face the facts, there's no way you can kick a jewel charged demons ass by yourself in this state. and if the others help they'll insist the shards join the others. you already know this. SO, Who do we know who might be willing to trade his shard, both of them that we need for this, in return for one night of fun." she asked, cupping Inuyasha's chin as he sat back up blushing. "Well? Come on, so me you're still a clever boy~" Inuyasha huffed and whined, he HATED it when she treated him like some dumb toddler, well mostly. but the part of him that liked it was being ignored. "Koga." He huffed and crossed his arms. "Still don't think you whoring yourself out to him is right though." "...Heh..Is THAT what you think the deal is? Oh Inuyasha, you realllly need to learn to pay attention. I've repeated myself HOW many times and you still think -I'M- the one he wants to play with?" She asked with a amused smirk. "...Well who else would...it..." Inuyasha trailed off and then blushed bright red as it dawned on him why Kagome had sent his clothes off to be cleaned when usually she kept the purse string tight. She had trapped him in the room unless he wanted everyone to see his baby outfit! "Ding ding ding! Winner winner chicken dinner." Kagome giggle and tapped a finger on the pups nose. "I'D RATHER KEEP FILLING MY PANTS WITH CRAP THEN BLOW THAT BASTARD!" Inuyasha yelled. "geez, say it a little louder, i don't think everyone in the inn heard you.." She said wincing, and putting a finger to her ear. "And you WILL do this because I'm blowing though all of my savings keeping you in disposables. if you wanna keep pooping your pants fine...but we're switching to cloth diapers and YOUR washing them." "...You know there are times when I reallllly hate you?" Inuyasha asked.

Koga was all grins as he came into the inn and got Kagome's room number. he'd of course heard the rumors about how Inuyasha had gone from a bad ass to a smell one but he wasn't sure he believed it till Kagome had contracted him about a little deal. She'd of course offered herself up at first in trade for the shards but as tempting as that was (and it was VERY) there was one thing he loved the thought of more: Making that mutt suck his cock dry while he was in a shitty diaper. It would be the ultimate combination of fulfilling a old wet drink of his and putting the mutt in his place and heck, he was getting ready to settle down and stick around the cave anyways. Knocking on the door, Kagome opened it and smiled. "Koga, please come in, your date is ready for you." she said with a impish grin. Yeah, he wasn't stupid, He knew part of her wanted to see this just as much as him with what a royal pain the pup had been. "Why thank you Kagome." he said and strolled past her, look eyes on Inuyasha. the pup was standing in the corner, naked save for a pair of what looked like diapers but make out of some weird material and had a bunch of animals on them and they were around his ankles. the reason they were was clear as even in the weak lamp light of the room, The Half demon's cheeks were bright red and Inuyasha was fighting back sobs. "oh my, was SOMEBODY a bad boy?" Koga asked amused. "He tried to tell me that I couldn't watch, and even after I got him a jungle print rearz too." Kagome said in a mock pouty voice. "...A what with the what now?" Koga asked, rubbing the back of his head. "A expensive diaper from my time, but they hold a lot AND make him ever so cute." She explained. "Shame on you Inuyasha! She went and spoiled you and you can't return the favor?" Koga tsk'ed and wagged a finger. "I have half a mind to tan those cheeks myself!" "N-No please! I'll be good!" The pup yelped and then a spurt of pee came out of his less then impressive manhood soaking the corner. "Pfffffttt..Well Ok. I suppose..but that was your ONE mulligan. if you misbehave again it;s spanky spanky time." Koga said then added. "and you better pull up your diapies before you flood the room." "Yes sir." Inuyasha mewed, instinctively going beta in the state he was in and yanking his diaper up. "M-May I come out of the corner ow?" "Wow, one spanking and he's so polite. you should of been spanking him this whole time!" Koga noted. "and yes you may buddy." "oh, it doesn't last for more then a hour sadly." Kagome said going and taking a seat at a small table and wishing she'd brought her camera with her. 'I wonder what kinda money this would make in my time...ticking off a lot of fetish boxes here..' she mused.

Inuyasha hated how small and weak he felt, it was just what happened after a good sound spanking over Kagome's lap and he was just glad he hadn't had to address her yet cuz when he was THIS subby he called her mommy without thinking about it. He didn't have to ask what was expected of him as Koga took a baby bottle loaded with icky stink juice (Ok, that wasn't the name of it but it's what Inuyasha called it as it tasted as bad going down as it smelled coming out) and then sat on the bed and patted his lap. "Come here little guy, You look thirsty." Inuyasha went to open his mouth to warn Koga of what that baby bottle of YUCK was gonna do but realized the pervy bastard already know and accepted his fate, toddling over and sitting in the demon's lap. "Um.." Inuyasha started. "Yes?" Koga asked. "Mommy usually ha-" he started before being cut off "Oh, Mommy huh? Adorable!" Koga chuckled with Kagome joining in. "K-Kagome I mean!" Inuyasha yelped and his hands covered his mouth. "oh No. Mommy sounds much more fitting, and I'm sure Kagome doesn't mind..right?" Koga asked. "Pffftt..Not at all. but only if you make sure to call Koga daddy little guy." She called over. "Took the words right out of my mouth! Now, you were saying babykins?" Koga asked. "...Mommy Normally has me lay down and just put my head in her lap..Like..I dunno how this is gonna work...daddy." Inuyasha said, shutting his eyes tight as he said the D word and wishing he could block out the sound of Kagome laughing. "oh well, not to insult your mommy, she's clearly strong enough to paddle your behind after all, but I think i can handle cradling a silly little pup in a big boys body." Koga chuckled and then moved Inuyasha with ease into the feeding position. As much as Inuyasha didn't WANNA open his mouth, Kagome had done this with him more then once (though normally with honey sweeten milk as a reward) and his mouth opened up on it's on and then he took in the nipple and suckled greedily, even as he scrunched up his face. "Awww it's ok little guy, Daddy has something MUCH sweeter for you to suck on after this." Koga promised. "Fuck yeah." Kagome mewed. "Watch the potty mouth around the baby!" Koga scolded and frowned. "Eep! Uh..Yes sir." She mewed as Inuyasha giggled a little despite all the YUCK in his mouth.

Watching Inuyasha work the bottle was having a conflict of interest rise up in Koga in more then one way. First: Inuyasha's eager nursing and greediness was making Koga start to tent his loin cloth and he wasn't sure if he was gonna be able to let the little guy finish his bottle, let alone burp him and want for him to go uh-oh. Second: Inuyasha just looked so sweet and pure at the moment he wasn't sure if he could even bring himself to face fuck him anymore, though hell yeah he'd still play with the baby. Third: He was regretting the choice to let Kagome stay in the room already but knew she had a duty to make sure Kagome didn't hurt the baby (well beyond a spanking) Fourth: while he was of course going to hand over his shards, he wasn't sure if he was willing to hand over the cutie back to her when she clearly was going to keep being a mean mommy. All of this added up together made Koga sure of one thing,he'd gotten a crush on the dork without meaning to. 'Damn it!' Koga thought. 'I have to stop being such a sucker for cuties!' Inuyasha had closed his eyes again, clearly the gooey mixture in the bottle didn't taste all that good but Kagome had promised that it worked wonders on clearing Inuyasha out when he got all backed up. "Actually, it might work too well if your sense of smell is as strong as his. all he can do is whine 'stinky!'" after he loads his pampers." Kagome had said. well, ok..Koga's might of been even stronger but there was no way he was going to NOT see something that sounded THAT cute even if it stringed a few nose hairs. A deep rumbling fart from Inuyasha's backseat brought him back to the moment and Koga went to say something when the smell hit him. "Good god, what have you been feeding him!?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. if it hadn't of been for the fact he was holding the baby he would of pinched his nose shut! "Oh, mostly bean paste and the like, food fit for a baby. Shippo gets a kick out of spoon feeding him." Kagome said. "...Your kidding right?" Koga asked, raising a eyebrow. "Of course I am. he's still on his normal diet of ramen noodles and whatever he can hunt." she chuckled. "you should of seen the look on your face!" "you know, you're not funny."

Kagome had to disagree there, but kept her mouth shut. while they had been busy she'd slipped in a pair of nose plugs and would of offered a set to Koga but he was turning out to be a real wet blanket. 'Maybe when he's suffering enough he'll go back to making this hawt.' She thought and watched as Inuyasha started his pre poopie ass blaster attack. poot after rancid poot escaped the big babies back side as he finished his ba-ba and then OMG.. As Koga wiped the babies mouth and moved to burp him Inuyasha mewed. "I'm sowwy I'm so stinky daddy." And the hell of it was, he honestly DID look like he was sorry. not his fake saying it with a smirk that she got. She wasn't sure if she should find that adorable or a piss off since she had been the one changing his shitty ass all this time. "it's Ok buddy. you're just a little pup who can't help it." Koga said and then had Inuyasha's head over a shoulder and was patting and rubbing his back. Inuyasha mewed and then let out a massive belch that made Kagome jump out of her seat and landed painfully on her ass and the jolt knocked her nose plugs out. As the full stink of the room filled her nose she whimpered and put her hands to her nose then got up and dashed out of the room quickly crying out a "I'll leave you guys alone later bye!" she stumbled in a blind panic to get to fresh air and didn't stop till she was outside and huffing the fresh country air.. or at least that was the plan till she got a lung full skunk scent. "...Fuck it, still better then in there."

Finding the nose plugs and cleaning off Kagome's and spotting the extra pair and getting them in Inuyasha's nose and his, Daddy and baby where able to enjoy each others company much easier now and Inuyasha found that if he didn't have to SMELL it, he liked the feeling of a squishy loaded diaper, triple so since Daddy had giving him a stinky horsey ride in his lap that MIGHT of made the big baby make a different mess in the front of his diaper. Likewise before he he got a diaper change Inuyasha returned the favor as best he could with his mouth (he was unskilled but Koga assured him that he would get lots of practice.) That was because before Kagome came back Koga made a command decision for Inuyasha and carried the now clean little guy in just his onesie out of the inn and took his diaper bag with him. He left three things for Kagome in the room: a note explaining that he had altered they're deal and was keeping Inuyasha to be HIS little boy, and advised her NOT to come looking for him. As promised both of his jewel shards, and a extra one he'd earned recently before showing up, to show he could be fair and Inuyasha's stinky diaper. Needless to say she was less then thrilled to have lost her boyfriend (even if she had been cucking him) though getting three of the shards was a major score. She totally could of done without having to come back into the room reeking of skunk and getting hit with the stink of the poopie diaper and while waiting for the twin stinks to fade off of her, wondered just how she was gonna explain this out to the others.

Inuyasha for his part was quickly accepted into the pack and was everyone's little brother, beloved for the most part save for when he had a stinky diaper.

The end

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purpleandgreen13 · 3 years

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Stardew Valley Inktober 2021

Inspired by @buttonso 's SDV Inktober list, I'm writing a one shot every day for October. I have done 4 already (the fifth will be later today) but thought I would post them here too.

October 1st Junimo

Inspired by the Star Trek original series 'The Trouble with Tribbles'

Dammit Lewis, I’m a doctor not a vet.” Grumbled Doctor Harvey at his clinic where he, Marnie and Mayor Lewis are stood looking the five tiny figures laying in a large cardboard box on the examination table. They are covered in scratches and making distressed cooing noises.

“Please Dr Harvey?” Pleads Marnie, her eyes filling with tears, “I found them in the barn, the cows didn’t mean to rough them up, they were just curious.”

“What are you doing with these creatures anyway Marnie? Junimo’s import to Ferngill is strictly controlled.” Doctor Harvey peers over his glasses.

Marnie looks shifty all of a sudden and Mayor Lewis shuffles uncomfortably, “Lewis got me a special license!” Marnie protests a little too loudly, “We’re breeding them as pets. Look how cute they are! People are going to love them!”

“You are aware of their other reputation?” Harvey asks, “They’re prodigious breeders. They can have up to seven litters a week and they’re banned in some places. In the wild they have plenty of predators but in domestic situations you can easily get overrun."

“Please Doc. We can make it worth your while.” Lewis wheedles.

“Lewis. I don’t want your money, except for the medical bills. I don’t like seeing any creature in pain. Leave them with me, I’ll make sure they’re well looked after and I’ll patch up their wounds, give them a course of antibiotics and they should be right as rain in about four days.”

“Thank you so very, very much, Doctor Harvey.” Marnie gushes with relief as she clutches Harvey’s hand. Harvey frowns. This is very much against his better judgement, but the animals need care and he WAS the closest thing this town had to a vet, he supposed.

Once Marnie and Lewis left, Harvey lifted the blanket covering the box.

“Oh Yoba.” He muttered quickly lowering the blanket again. Already the junimos, which he had to grudgingly admit were cute, were In flagrante delicto, busy at work in the cardboard box creating the next generation of apple-like creatures.

Harvey mused that the small animals were getting more action than most people in the valley, including him.

He fetched his medical equipment and carefully lifted each Junimo out of the box, whenever one was free from its activities. Each one squeaked in protest as Harvey checked it over, applied antiseptics to cuts and grazes, then administered antibiotic in a small pipette to each of the five Junimos. They’d need a few days care, but they were mostly badly shaken up. They would all be fine, he was confident.

He supposed he should separate them into males and females, but honestly, Harvey had absolutely no way of telling them apart, so he left the blanket on the box after giving them some guinea pig food provided by Abigail and a bowl of water, and retired for the night.

Maru was first in the clinic the next morning and when Harvey entered the reception area, still a little bleary-eyed from sleep, she looked furious.

“What- what’s up Maru?” Harvey asked nervously.

“Why are you keeping so many animals in such a tiny space Doc? It’s downright cruel!”

“What are you talking about?”

There are almost 50 Junimos squished into a cardboard box in the hospital section! I can’t believe you left them like that? You do know it’s illegal to keep them without a license?” “Fif-FIFTY? Harvey suddenly felt a bit faint. “There were only 5 yesterday!”

Well, there’s about 50 of them now. We’ll need to find them better housing.”

After searching through the clinic for boxes big enough to house 50 Junimos, Maru makes a decision, that Harvey mutely agrees with.

They let the Junimos loose in the hospital wing of the clinic, leaving them food and water. At the end of the day locking the door behind him, Harvey couldn’t help but feel he’d made a terrible mistake.

‘Junimos reach sexual maturity within 24 hours of birth’, he read in one of his encyclopaedias, ‘as beings who derive their bright coat colouring from magic in the air around them, they live relatively short lives and breed as much as they can to ensure survival of the species. The magic that sustains them, makes them attractive to female junimos also kills them. Their twin purposes in life are to procreate and eat.’

In the morning there were more than 500 Junimos on the hospital wing. Maru could barely open the door and then could not close it. There were junimos everywhere, in the pharmacy cupboards, under every chair in the waiting room. Maru found two in the drawer of the till.

Harvey was going spare. His beautiful clean, sterile clinic had turned into a zoo. He coped as well as he could, but that evening, he called Lewis in a panic. His first attempt to pick up his phone he picked up a Junimo instead, he swept 7 of them off his chair in his office. Several of them piled on his warm lap once he sat down. There were several of them sleeping on the examination table. The noise of Junimo mating was cacophonous.

“Hello!” He bellowed into the phone when Mayor Lewis picked up. “LEWIS! It’s Harvey here! You’re going to have to do something about these Junimos! There’s hundreds of them!” “Sorry Doc! I can’t hear you! Are you having a party? I will come and pick up those Junimos from you on Friday! You said 4 days for the antibiotics to work didn’t you? I’ll see you then!” and with that the line goes dead.

Harvey has had enough. He wades through the Junimos lining the stairs to his apartment, grabs his jacket from the hook behind the door, empties the pockets of Junimos that have settled there, and makes his way gingerly out of the clinic and to the saloon. He stays far later than he should and he dreams in junimos the entire night.

Wednesday is hell. Exponential Junimo growth means that every surface is covered with squeaking, breeding and pooping animals with no regard for Harvey’s cleaning routines. He opens his kitchen cupboard for his coffee mug and is rewarded by e seemingly never-ending shower of small apple like creatures bouncing off his head and scurrying away. He tries to count them but here are far too many. That night he goes hungry because there is not a crumb of food in the house. When he climbs into his bed, he is surrounded by the creatures, cocooned in a kind of living Junimo blanket. The sleeping creatures start snoring. By itself a junimo snoring is a sweet sound, like sighing, but by the thousand, the noise is deafening.

When Maru arrives on Thursday morning, Doctor Harvey is a broken man. She pushes the door of the clinic open with some difficulty, the sheer weight of the creatures holding back the door.

Harvey is seated behind the counter, asleep, head in arms, dishevelled and unshaven. Junimos on his lap, his shoulders, in every one of his pockets. The squeaking and chirruping is so loud that Maru has to cover her ears as she approaches the sleeping man covered in the apple creatures.

“Doc!” She shouts above the row. “Doc!”

Harvey jolts awake. The junimos on his lap fall off, but are replaced with many more, jostling for a place on the doctor’s warm knees.

“I’ve brought someone who might help!”

Through the mounds of apple shaped bodies Harvey can just about make out a large cowboy hat and a purple beard. He scoffed to himself, the crazy guy from the tower? What was he going do here? Set traps? Give them all contraceptives. (Harvey had already considered it, but he calculated that the cost would be more than he made in a year).

With some difficulty the self-proclaimed wizard moved to the wall of the waiting room and in chalk drew a large circle with undecipherable symbols within its parameters. He yelled one word “Quiet!” Which made Harvey and Maru both jump. Surprisingly, the Junimos still and there is peace in the clinic for the first time in days.

He grinned at the medical staff, “Couldn’t hear myself think in here.”

Harvey has to keep himself from rolling his eyes when the wizard gets out a wand. Seriously? He’s muttering something that Harvey can’t quite catch and is sure is gibberish. He almost wants to laugh when the man turns around and makes an extravagant gesture with his arm. Harvey takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, feeling overwhelmingly tired. When he opens his eyes again, the Junimos are gone.

He blinks. Not a single Junimo remains.

The place is a mess however. Chairs are overturned, the plants have all been eaten. Magazines shredded. Harvey dared not look at the damage in his neat pharmacy and sterile hospital room.

“Where did they go?” He stammers, his entire belief system shaken.

The Wizard smiles enigmatically, “Somewhere I think they should be.” With a dramatic swirl of his cape, he exits, leaving Harvey and Maru to clean up the mess. Harvey thinks he can smell sulphur, but blames his overtired fevered brain.

**~~**~~**

In the Mayoral Manor, Lewis is doing his weekly book work for the town finances. A little bit off the top here and a little added to his own bank account. No-one ever asks to check the books. The amounts would not be missed.

There is a flash and suddenly Lewis is surrounded by small apple shaped creatures. They’re everywhere. A heaving mass of Junimos covers the floor and already some of the creatures are getting into his food cupboards, locust-like they start to methodically eat everything they come across.

Over in the clinic, broom in hand, Harvey swears he can hear screaming coming from Lewis’s house.

#stardew valley #stardew harvey #stardew valley harvey #sdv harvey #sdvharvey #harvey sdv #harvey stardew valley #sdv #inktober2021 #inktober #SDV Inktober #Stardew Valley fanfic

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 19

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because there’s a hundred pages left and the main plot point broke. I dunno what we’re doing now.

Last times in book: Kylan, Naia, and Tavra have traveled to Place-in-Shadows to find a magic firca that will help them warn all Gelfling about the Skeksis. Maudra Argot’s delightful son Amri showed them to the Tomb of Relics where they met urLii the Storyteller. Annnnnnnd they find the firca. Annnnnnnd it’s broken.

Chapter 19

Kylan copes with disappointment, urLii says something helpful

urLii’s reaction to the plot critical item being broken lightens the tension a little.

“Well... it wasn’t like that when I saw it last.”

I mean, for me. I laughed at this line. The character in the scene don’t see the humor. Alas.

But in fairness, not only is the firca smashed into a thousand pieces, its functionally irreparable. You can’t just mend a wind instrument like this. The cracks can never be completely sealed and that would mess up the noise but good.

Naia asks if the firca was like this when Tavra found it and Tavra replies that she didn’t bother looking inside because the box was as Maudra Argot described.

Hmmm. HMMMMMMM.

I have my eye on you, Tavra.

urLii taps the box and starts talking about the bell-bird, calling it a signing mountain-gong, and describing how they used to wake the whole world with their song when the first sun rose, that “it was the good morning from Thra, from the Heart, to all.”

Kylan asks what happened to the birds, wanting desperately to be distracted by a story.

“Died out... Died out after the Conjunction. Early on. They sipped from the well of the world, you know. Like flowers grow from the suns. They grew from the song of the Heart of Thra. When the song changed, even in the very beginning... Oh, such large and magnificent creatures cannot subsist on anything less than what gave them birth in the beginning. Old things cannot change quickly. These birds were very old, and the Conjunction very abrupt.”

“I feel like things are happening even more quickly now,” Kylan said. He set the box down before he succumbed to the urge to fling it across the room in frustration. “I feel like every time we try to accomplish something, we’re too late. The Skeksis are always one step ahead of us. Stealing my friends from Sami Thicket, and every other village. How can we hope to fight against them when they already know everything we plan to do? Are they using the Crystal to see beyond the castle? Maybe that’s why they haven’t bothered to come after us. There’s no need! They can tell that we’re not threat to them at all.”

Poor Kylan.

This has been a very taxing journey for a best boy. Naia has had a hard time too but Kylan learned his parents were killed (and maybe eaten??) by a Skeksis, has had a shitty upbringing by Maudra Mera, and has felt useless and a burden almost every step of this journey.

He really was pinning all his hopes on the firca because it was something that only he could do.

S-still, cool to learn some world-building deets? I guess the bell-birds were a canary in the coal mine situation for how things went wrong after the crystal cracked?

Naia tries to cheer up Kylan but he’s uncheerable.

Encouragement was just another story, and stories weren’t going to help them right now.

It hurts to read him think a thought like that =(

Kylan declares that they need to go to Ha’rar like they promised Tavra.

Tavra, to her credit?, doesn’t gloat. Or seem to feel anyway about it at all. Except tired. Relatable.

Amri has been sitting on the sidelines of all this emotion, possibly because he wasn’t as invested in this quest, having just joined, and he still gets to go to the surface and visit places. He asks urLii if anything else in the Tomb of Relics is worth bringing.

“No, it’s mostly junk,” urLii answered.

Amri rubbed his forehead.

Pfffft.

Out of all of the times that the Mystics aren’t entirely helpful, this is my favorite now.

And Amri getting frustrated with him is perfect because to him, urLii isn’t a legendary figure of wisdom, he’s Amri’s doddering old teacher.

So Amri instead asks urLii if there’s a passage to the surface somewhere in the Tomb. The Mystic answers that there is one but it was blocked by a rockslide, although Gelflings might be able to get through anyway. Buuut he doesn’t remember where it is.

So, Amri, Naia, and Tavra split up to cover more ground, again again, but Naia tells Kylan to sit tight and just sort of cope.

“Kylan, stay here if you need to. I know... this has been hard for you. Don’t worry. We’ll find another way, and it’s going to be fine.”

best friends.

Kylan is left alone with urLii who instantly gets distracted by a scroll. And Kylan is feeling Dramatic.

“Is that the fate of song tellers, then?” he asked aloud. “To go mad?”

“Hmm... I don’t know that story, so I couldn’t tell you the end of it.”

Hah.

Also, I know that Kylan is already voiced by Shazad Latif and he does a good job but I’m suddenly imagining him as voiced by Elijah Wood because this is something that I could hear Wirt Overthegardenwall say.

Just saying. Both musical.

urLii asks Kylan if he’s a Spriton and a dream-stitcher and then pulls a conveniently located Spriton tapestry out, one that has been dream-stitched.

It was a Spriton tapestry, woven in the special way that Maudra Mera was known for. Kylan touched it, feeling the beginning of a dreamfast as he did. The dream was stitched into the threads, the simple vision of a field under an open blue sky. The wind smelled sweet with grass, and then it ended.

Geez, Gelfling just keep getting cooler and cooler.

Kylan says that this tapestry doesn’t help because it won’t fix the firca and dream-stitching won’t either and that he can’t really do much of anything.

urLii philosophically says that its Kylan’s decision to make. “One can choose either to be the weaver or the woven. The singer or the song. You know?”

Which just annoys Kylan because abstract philosophy isn’t going to help the material problem he has right now. He even kind of snaps a little at urLii, which is like snapping at a brick wall with googly eyes glued to it. You’re not doing much good there.

“No, I don’t know,” he said. “Maudra Mera only started to teach me dream-stitching because it was the only thing I could do. Then I ran away.”

His short-tempered reply did not offend the Mystic, or if it did, he didn’t show it. urLii stroked his mane in thought.

“Hmm. The only thing you could do... or a thing only you could do?”

AND THAT DOES THE TRICK

Just reversing the concept puts things in a new light for Kylan and makes him reconsider why Maudra Mera tried to teach him dream-stitching.

Good job, urLii.

But Amri finds the surface exit hidden behind some carved stones, pottery, and large gems so urLii tells Kylan to go off and join his friends.

Hey. urLii is pretty great?

The four Gelfling work to clear the obstructions from in front of the door. The other three tire out eventually leaving Tavra tirelessly finishing up.

Tavra wants to set out immediately but Naia convinces her that the other three need a break and they might have to be hauling boulders when they get to the rockslide.

And by convinces I mean Tavra impatiently leans against the wall with her arms crossed, too cool for school style.

Amri jokes that Tavra is as tireless as he imagines a Landstrider is which segues into how he would very much like to see a Landstrider. Kylan promises that when they get down to the Dark Wood or plains, he’ll call some Landstriders for the group.

The Grottan goes on to mentions that if the Landstriders are the patron animal of the Spriton, the muski are the ones of the Drenchen and of course he would like to meet one of those too and maybe he’ll have to start a list.

(I adore Amri)

This makes Naia momentarily sad about Neech being off with Gurjin but she just promises Amri that he’ll get to meet a muski someday.

Amri mentions that the Grottan don’t keep the hollerbats as familiar because they just poop so much. Shame. Bat friends though...

Kylan asks if the Vapra keep unamoths but she takes the small talk as an indication that everyone is good to travel lets immediately set off and not do small talk by getting up from her wall lean and sternly pointing down the tunnel.

Its a shame that I’m maths% sure that she’s a spider because this is a pretty funny moment for a no-fun-allowed character.

The group sets off down the tunnel towards the glimpse of sunlight they see up ahead, Tavra sticking to the back of the group like she expects someone to try to sneak away from the party again. Hah.

But as they travel and since Kylan is in the penultimate back position, he hears Tavra muttering to herself.

“Unamoths are only good for one thing...”

It was quiet, under her breath, and he wasn’t sure if she knew he could hear her when she finished the thought:

“... eating.”

!!!

OKAY SO SHE’S DEFINITELY A SPIDER

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #Song of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Kylan #Naia #Tavra #Amri #urLii #the Storyteller

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forgottenyogurtgods · 3 years

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This Conspiracy

PART I - THE TRIO

Chapter 7

In Which Graham Takes A Dive

Flossy was glad she was in the chicken coop. It smelled just as bad and some of the hens didn’t exactly like having her in there, but something told her it was better than the Blood House. It was larger than she initially expected, suitable for the fourteen chickens, surrounded by a decently sized range that enclosed the coop, the run, and some of the pasture in the Glade.

Winston gave her an easy task, she was aware of that. Feeding took no time at all. The chickens were happy to eat and pecked at the ground as she went inside for her next task – collecting the eggs, which was actually quite enjoyable. The chickens didn’t seem to mind her doing that while they ate.

Washing the eggs was a delicate task – something, she found, she was quite good at. Most of the eggs just had to be wiped down with a sponge. Only a handful had dried poop or bits of yolk from another egg dried on them. She was grateful that Winston had gotten her a bowl of warm water before she’d started – she had no idea where to even look.

Cleaning the straw took a bit more time. It had to be changed twice a day, as it was terrible at collecting moisture, and the Glade was usually warm. It could get humid really easily, and it tended to linger in the coop especially.

“It rots too easily,” Winston said to her before he let her in the enclosure so she could work. “I asked for something better a couple of times, but the Creators never send it up. Normally, I have one of the Slicers do this, but I gave him the day off. He’s nursing a bit of a hangover, like the rest of the slintheads around here.”

She didn’t doubt that he wasn’t the only one. From what she could see, quite a few of the boys were lazing about. Mostly the Slicers and the Bricknicks. Gally had the Builders at work – though some were moving about reluctantly and glaring at their Keeper – and the Track-hoes were tending to the Gardens under Zart’s instructions, moving slowly. The Baggers all stood near the entrances to the Maze, looking bored – a few of them were probably sleeping on their feet. They seemed like they had it easy. The Sloppers were cleaning away, though they weren’t rushing around. She couldn’t see Frypan and the Cooks, but she was certain they were just like everyone else. She wondered if the smell of food was making anyone feel ill.

All things considered, she finished in the coop just shortly before the midday break. She slipped out of the chicken enclosure, clicking at the hens as she left. To them, she was insignificant, like anyone else in the Glade. That was an oddly nice and comforting thought.

She headed over to Winston in the… slicing area. She cringed at the warm, metallic scent of blood. The sight of it was worse than the smell. Winston and two other Slicers were in the middle of gutting and cleaning a pig.

“All done, Girlie?” Winston said, pulling out the intestines. They dropped down into a metal basin at their feet. He worked with his bare hands. His arms were slick and stained red. That almost sent her running for the hills.

She had a feeling they were doing this on purpose. They most likely were.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling a little light headed. It wasn’t so much the blood as it was watching them work. She tried to pay attention to their faces and not the splayed pig on the table in front of them or the blood covered parts of them.

“Go and get the boys. You guys deserve a break.” He nodded to the Blood House. She looked away and all but ran from the sight. She was not meant to be a Slicer. Tending to the animals, sure, but doing… that? There was no way she’d be able to handle it.

Graham and Archie were still mucking out stalls. They weren’t even a quarter of the way done. They looked up at her when she entered.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Archie said, leaning on a stall divider. “What’s up?”

“Midday break. Winston gave us permission to go get some lunch.”

“We’re almost finished with this stall,” Graham said. “Wait for us?”

“Sure.”

She found a three legged stool that was probably used for milking the goats and cows and lounged on it, her back leaning against a stall divider and her legs stretched out in front of her. After the cramped quarters of the coop, this was a luxury.

“How were the chickens?” Graham said as they worked.

“Not so bad,” she said, looking down at her shoes. They weren’t really meant for working in the Glade, the soles were too thin. They were made for indoor work. She hoped some new ones were sent up for her. “If I just had to work with the chickens all day, I probably wouldn’t mind being a Slicer. How were things in here?”

“Hot,” Archie said.

“Lots of heavy stuff,” Graham said.

“Almost got attacked by a goat.”

“The pig with the black spot around his left eye is mean.”

“I hate sheep.”

“Sheep poop a lot,” Graham said, looking at Archie. Archie nodded.

“The ram’s worse.”

“Ugh, I hate the ram.”

“What?” Flossy said, trying not to laugh.

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alarawriting · 4 years

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52 Project #1: The Chicken Story

Every part of this story is true. Even the lies. In fact, especially the lies.

***

Yes, I live in the city and I have chickens, no thanks to city legislature. You’d think that cities would be more supportive of having chickens; they kill rats and they produce eggs, what’s not to like? Well, okay, chicken poop isn’t all that pleasant and they destroy all the plants in their run, but unlike, say, cat or dog poop, chicken poop is useful as fertilizer. The city’s somewhat tolerant of hens, but they’re appallingly sexist toward roosters; I mean, yes, the poor guys are loud, but so are dogs and I don’t see anyone banning dog ownership within city limits. Roosters protect their flock from predators and they can serve as watch animals. They don’t actually crow to tell you it’s dawn, though, that’s a myth. Mostly they crow to tell you “Goddamn, yo, check me out, I’m a rooster.” Or something like that. If roosters could talk they would absolutely perform hip-hop.

Anyway, I have a funny story about those chickens, and roosters, and my son, who’s a ninja. No, I’m not making this up, it’s his superpower. He could be standing right there and I could be looking for him and I wouldn’t see him. He’s not invisible, he’s just… very good at going unnoticed. That was really helpful when we were trying to get our second house.

Oh, yeah, so this place is actually two halves of a duplex, and originally, we owned just one. Then the neighbor overextended himself bricking up all the yards back there. You see the street back there? All the yards behind my house are made of concrete now. Rudest thing you ever saw, because they didn’t put in drainage, so all those yards that used to be soil and dirt ended up flooding, directly into my garage. I had my car floating in it, out to the street. I mean, it was raining pretty heavy and all the cars down at the bottom of the hill were also floating, but I’m halfway up the hill so you wouldn’t expect my car to float, but no, I open my garage, and there it is, bobbing up and down. I loved that car. It floated down the street and ended up in the river – yeah, there’s a river down there, you can’t tell most of the time because it’s so shallow it’s barely a creek, but that day it was overflowing and my car floated right into it and sailed off. Never got it back. Pretty sure it’s in the bay someplace. Now all we have is my wife’s minivan, because she was at her parents’ house with the younger kids that weekend, and I’m really not a fan. Who builds a car large enough to transport drywall but too small to stretch your legs if you’re an adult man? Honda, that’s who. She doesn’t care because she’s short, but I miss my car. It was a Chevy Impala, we called it Vlad because you have to call an Impala Vlad, right? Vlad the Impala? Come on, it’s a Dracula joke.

Right, so anyway, the reason they’re all bricked up is that my neighbor was trying to buy up all the properties there, so he had a business offering people that he’d brick up their yard – no more tickets from the city about high grass and weeds, no more kids sneaking into the back to grow illicit tomatoes, no rats – and a lot of people took him up on it, because they didn’t realize about the flooding. Sure, most of it ended up in my garage, but a lot of it ended up in people’s basements, and no one around here has flood insurance, we’re halfway up a hill. And that dislodged the ghosts. See, most of this city’s built on an ancient burial ground of some kind or other… I don’t think Native American, I think it was one of those colonial cemeteries or something, so when you flood basements, you’re gonna get ghosts. And that meant people trying to sell their properties because they’re haunted. So he figured he’d buy up all the houses on the block cheap, right? Except some investigators came in from a government agency and they figured out that he’d known about the ghosts and that’s why he talked people into letting him pour concrete all over their yards, so there were lawsuits – I considered joining in myself, but at the time, he lived on the other half of my house so I didn’t want to stir things up. And at the end of the lawsuits, he was the one who had to sell his house for cheap in a big hurry or face foreclosure, because he’d had to mortgage his house like three times to pay the lawsuits.

Well, we tried to get it legitimately. My wife’s name isn’t on the title to my house, so she was eligible for an FHA loan. But they absolutely refused to believe that she wanted to buy the house next door to the one she was living in just to live in it. They were convinced she wanted to rent it out. She pointed out that the mortgage payments were like twice what anyone would pay to rent a place around here – yay for gentrification, I guess – but they weren’t convinced. So we rented her an apartment and she was going to live in it for six months so that she could go back and get the FHA loan – I mean, she wasn’t really living in it, she was just storing her books in it, but no one was going to be able to tell she wasn’t living in it because if an auditor came to the house, she had it rigged with cameras and speakers and whatnot so she could talk to people remotely and tell them not to come in because of the books, and if you looked through the windows you could see that you couldn’t see a damn thing because of the piles of books everywhere, like seven-foot-tall stacks of books all over the place. But before she could go back to get the loan, the bank finished foreclosing on the guy and then the house wasn’t available for sale.

Now, see, we knew that sooner or later, the bank was going to sell that house, so we went into action. Here’s where my son being a ninja came in; we had him go over there and steal all the doors inside the house and hide them in the attic. The embarrassing thing is that he forgot where he put them so the entire house still doesn’t have doors. We have to have a curtain up in front of the bathroom, since it’s an old house and the width of the doorjamb doesn’t match the sizes they make doors anymore. The cops came and searched for the doors – I think they were suspicious that we took them, since how many houses have a ninja? But after they went up into the attic and two of them fell through the ceiling and broke their ribs, they decided it wasn’t worth their time. Also, I kept pointing out to them about the lawsuit, and the ghosts, like my family was the only one who’d have motivation to steal the doors? Really?

Then we filled the bathroom with dead rats. I guess this requires a little bit of explanation. We didn’t have the chickens yet, or the assassin cat – did I tell you about my assassin cat? No? Well, let me finish telling you about the house first. So we had a lot of rats, and we were poisoning them, as you do when you’ve got that many rats, and we also had traps, and a giant dollhouse with murder dolls in it. You’ve never used a murder doll on a rat? It’s a doll that’s got a knife in its hand, and when the sensors in its eyes detect that there’s a rat walking by, it starts slashing at it like Jason at camp. My wife dressed them up nice so the rats would be fooled, and changed their clothes every day so they wouldn’t smell like rat blood. They had these frilly Victorian white outfits that she just drowned in bleach to get the dead rat smells out.

So anyway, when you’ve got four dozen dead rats, what do you do with them? If you put them all out in trash bags, the city might condemn your house for having that many rats. Never mind that most of them were swarming over from the other house anyway because it was abandoned. So we piled up the dead rat bodies in the bathroom. Then my son stole their refrigerator and rolled it out in the late evening, strolling along with it, mostly because at the time he wasn’t 18 yet but also because ninja, and we loaded it into my wife’s minivan and drove it to a friend’s house because his wife had gotten drunk on cheap wine and stabbed their refrigerator to death with a knife. Apparently it was a really big knife. Then we took the oven, which was good, because there were rats living in it, and we hid it in our garage, which we didn’t keep cars in anymore because of the risk of the garage flooding and the cars floating away. Since we were cognizant of the cops potentially looking for the oven, I let my wife take all the books back out of the apartment she’d been renting because we couldn’t really use it for what we’d intended anyway, and she stacked them all around the oven, and after she was done not only could you not tell there was an oven in there, but you didn’t want to go anywhere near it because you were afraid of a seven-foot-tall stack of books toppling over on you, and I’ve never met a cop who’s seven feet tall. They never did come by, though. Which was good, because the first time it rained, my wife went out there to retrieve all her books to save them from flooding, and of course then you could see the oven again.

We tried to steal the hot tub, but someone else got to it first, along with my lawnmower and backup generator. I felt really bad about the backup generator because we had some really beefy squirrels in there running the dynamo wheel and I don’t know where I’m going to get squirrels that big and strong again.

Then the bank started showing the house, so we stepped up our game. We played death metal at ridiculous volume when people would come to see the house, until we found out from my youngest son’s friend’s mom that she’d actually come to look at the house and thought the death metal was encouraging, as it suggested neighbors she could get along with. So after that it was endless repetitions of music from Sesame Street and The Song That Doesn’t End and Dora the Explorer. During that time period we all wore headphones; it was kind of unbearable, except for the youngest kids, of course. They didn’t mind.

We put cat food and sardines in the air conditioning vents, and potatoes in the closet so they could rot and turn to mush in the dark, and my oldest daughter, whose room was absolutely full of ghosts, did a séance and an exorcism to get the ghosts to move to the other house, and of course it was full of flies because of all the dead rats, and then we randomly placed mannequin parts in strategic locations. It must have worked, because in the end, no one bought the place and the bank put it up for auction, and my wife’s parents bought it for her. And then, of course, we had to clean up the potatoes, and the flies, and the ghosts, and the cat food – someone had gotten to the dead rats already – and deal with the power company being too scared of the ghosts to come hook us up, and the insurance agency rejecting my wife’s parents’ insurance application because someone came by while my daughter was doing her séance/exorcism and apparently black magic is one of those things they don’t tell you you can’t do in an insured house, but they won’t insure your house if they know you’re doing it.

So after all this, after my son the ninja has busted his butt trying to make this place unliveable so we could get it at auction for cheap enough that my wife’s parents could afford it – they’ve got that kind of professional man and housewife money that only boomers get to have anymore, not rich but sure as heck not as poor as I’d be if my wife didn’t work – he says, he wants chickens. He’s found his spirit animal, or something, and it’s a bird. It doesn’t hurt that I have a new boyfriend – yes, I said it, I have a wife and a boyfriend and they know about each other and we all live in the same house, and if you don’t like it, you know what you can sit and spin on. Anyway, my boyfriend is a wild animal dude from Canada, who, like, communes with animals and has conversations with them and is very possibly actually delusional, but he has all these ideas about how we can convert the two yards into an urban farm. It’s his original idea about the chickens, but my son is thrilled with the idea and I’m not gonna say no to the guy after he helped us get our second house, and I like the idea myself, so we go and get chickens.

First snag. My wife’s parents hate chickens. They hate birds in general. Apparently when my wife was a kid, they had a dog who didn’t believe in birds, and the birds pecked his eyes out, so they’ve got a grudge. I… gotta say, much as I love dogs, any dog who told a bird to its face that he didn’t believe in birds had it coming. You just don’t tell people that they don’t exist while you’re looking straight at them. That’s rude.

Second snag. The city won’t let us have more than 4 chickens per yard, but my boyfriend has acquired eight because he thought we’d be able to use the second yard, and because my wife’s parents hate birds, that isn’t happening. And no one wants to give any of the birds up. We’ve got some amazing chickens. We’ve got a white Silkie who I like to keep on my lap and pet when I’m being a supervillain, because any villain can have a long-furred white cat but it takes a really original guy to have a long-furred white chicken. (Obviously, Silkies don’t really have fur, but their feathers have a consistency like silky fur, hence the name.) We’ve got a Silkie crossbreed who sings dubstep. She’s a tiny little bantam chicken, but because she was raised by my son, who has been taking care of all the chickens since we got them, and they think he’s the alpha hen, she gets to boss all the rest of the chickens around because she’s the daughter of the alpha hen, which I guess makes her Princess Hen or something. We’ve got a big black Cochin with feathers on her feet, and a Naked Neck chicken who wants all the rest of her feathers off too, and a bunch of others. Really exotic chickens. So we’re not giving up any of these chickens for anything. We hide the two bantams – the Silkie and the princess – in the house, which necessitates chicken diapers, about which the less said the better – and we just kind of pretend that we have four outdoor chickens instead of six.

And our chickens are heroes. The cops come by one day looking for an armed robber who’s hiding somewhere. The chickens are all riled up. We think they’re worried about the cops, until eventually, they start pecking at something under their coop, and here comes the robber, crawling out from under the coop shrieking because he’s being pecked by half a dozen birds. The cops give the chickens a medal – one for all of them, they don’t have that many medals lying around, and we have to take it away from them and hang it in the house because they’re fighting over it all the time. And the news decides to do a human interest piece on our hero chickens, and we think the world should know how awesome our chickens are, so we let them.

This turns out to be a mistake. Because we’re not legally allowed to have six chickens. So one cold winter afternoon, while we’re getting ready to spend a weekend in another dimension, Animal Control comes and steals all our chickens, and trumps up charges against us such as “no water” (which is what happens after you tip a waterer over on its side), and “inadequate shelter” because they tore the door off the chicken coop to get at our birds, since naturally we had the coop door locked, and “immoral consecration of chicken souls to Satan” which is just a flat out lie. We’re atheists, not Satanists, and even Satanists don’t actually consecrate chicken souls to Satan. That’s mostly edgy teenagers who were raised Catholic.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever gone through a dimensional portal, but the thing is, they are only open for a short period of time, and it can be years before they open again. We couldn’t change our plans; the tickets for the boat were very expensive, since only so many boats were going to be allowed to sail through the portal so it was a really limited thing, and this close to sail time there was no way we could sell our tickets or exchange them. So we had to go on our trip for the weekend, which was great. Really fun. Not as much fun as the time when I was a kid and my family went to the moon and had a barbeque, but do you ever really have as much fun on a vacation when you’re an adult as you did when you were a kid? I keep meaning to take my kids there one of these days – among other things, my family’s barbeque grill is still stuck up there and I want it back – but I’m a little bit afraid that I won’t be able to get the magic back and it’ll be really depressing. While we were sailing out there, we actually got to see the Kraken, at a safe distance away, breaching out in the bay some ways away. My oldest daughter wants to be a marine biologist, so she was telling us all kinds of Kraken facts, and disputing my statement that the fire that burned down the city a century ago was actually caused by the Kraken.

It was carrying a car in its tentacles. I couldn’t be sure – my vision’s not the best even with a telescope – but I could swear the car looked just like Vlad the Impala.

Anyway, when we came back, we found out that the chickens had already been shipped out to a zoo in a different city.

My wife piled us all into the minivan and we drove five hours to go see the chickens at the zoo, and they were doing fine – they were apparently now a traveling exhibit at a petting zoo – but it turns out chickens can see ninjas, particularly ninjas who raised and cared for them. They got so excited when my son snuck into their enclosure to steal them back that they raised a huge ruckus, and even the most talented ninja can’t stay invisible when he’s surrounded by clucking chickens. Then my wife started trying to tell a sob story about stolen chickens, but I’m afraid I got a little angry at the injustice of it all, and it is possible that a zoo employee ended up in a pond, and as a result we were thrown out of the zoo. And then they went to the other side of the country, and we just couldn’t figure out how to smuggle six chickens onto an airplane, and we couldn’t take off enough time from work to go out there with the car… so we basically gave up. The chickens were having a good life at the zoo, and getting them back was going to take way too much effort.

We hardened our premises, securing the run with a locked gate so an animal control officer would have to climb over a six foot fence to get at our chickens, and then protected the fence by getting clematis to grow all over it so it turned into essentially a six foot tall flowering bush, and got a set of eight chicks that we were assured would grow up into hens. Spoiler alert: you can’t tell what sex a chick is. Half of them grew up into roosters. So we ended up with four hens, plus the two bantam hens in the house, to live outside again, but we also ended up with four roosters, and we had to keep the poor guys in the basement. My boyfriend lived in terror of Animal Control, fearing that every time he heard a cop car, it was the cops coming to break into our basement and take our chickens. I’d say he was a little paranoid if not for what happened later; turns out it’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.

Well, some of our new chickens had a case of wanderlust. We had Raspberry, who really liked to sleep in the bush, and Henry the Eggth, who was something of an escape artist; we kept finding her running down the street, sometimes with my son’s ninja headgear on her body, like she thought that if she just dressed like her ninja Queen Chicken Dad, she could borrow his powers and sneak out unseen. It didn’t work like that; no matter how hard a chicken trains to be a ninja, she just can’t do it. Not if her goal is to go unseen by humans, anyway. I have no idea whether Henry was able to hide from other chickens or not. The other two, Marie Curie (she got that name because she was a Polish, and Marie Curie was from Poland) and Hen Solo, would sometimes fly up to join Raspberry in the clematis bush. Chickens can’t technically fly, most of the time, because they’re too big for their own wingspan, but Solo was a bantam and Polish are a pretty tiny chicken breed too, so they were both light enough to fly as far as the bush.

Down in the basement, we had Eggy Pop, the sweetest little bantam chick size of an egg you ever saw, who grew up to be an asshole bantam roo, the kind who have a real chip on their shoulders about being bantams, and will try to kick everyone’s ass, including humans; MeToo, a beautiful Silkie who got his name when we thought he was a hen and figured that if anyone was gonna harass a chicken it would be that one; Dr. Tran, whose name I really can’t explain if there are young kids around; and Lyndon LaRoo, who kept trying, and failing, to improve his own position in the pecking order. (Dr. Tran and Lyndon got name changes when we figured out they were roos, as previously they had been named Nightmare Moon and Twilight Chicklet.) We had to keep them boxed in with baby gates, otherwise they’d have escaped through the secret tunnels we’d dug in the basement. (And what a pain those were. Ever try to dig secret tunnels in an area full of ghosts without disturbing anyone’s bones and getting a poltergeist infestation in your house? We had to use the stud finder to find the bones and then avoid them. Must have made the whole project take four times as long.) Upstairs in my son’s room, we have the two bantams, Scootaloo the Silkie crossbreed princess, and Ms. Bigglesworth, the white Silkie.

One day, all the outdoor chickens disappear. Gone, without a trace. This is deeply upsetting to me, my boyfriend and both my sons, so when a neighbor comes by and tells us that there are a lot of chickens running around an empty lot up one of the streets behind my house, we’re very hopeful, and we go into action. We take as many cardboard boxes as we can, the kind my wife uses to store books, and the four of us head up there on foot, since my wife is the only person with a car and she’s taken it and my younger daughter to go visit my oldest daughter in college.

Well, we find there are a lot of chickens up there in that empty lot. We find ours, all right – Raspberry and Henry and Marie and Solo – and a whole lot of others. A Barred Rock rooster, two Orpingtons, a Wyandotte, four random Cornish (these are meat birds, rarely found as pets because of their short life spans, so who knows what they were doing up there), a gamecock and two game hens (couldn’t tell whether they were American Game, Old English Game or some other kind, but they were little and the roo was fierce), an Ameraucana, an Easter Egger, a Brahma, a Rhode Island Red and a Jersey Giant, and then there were the really weird ones – a Sumatra, a Yokohama, a Houdan, a large Oshamo, an Onagadori, two ducks, a baby peacock, and a flamingo. I have no idea what those last guys were doing hanging around chickens.

We’re very worried for these chickens. They’re running around free in an abandoned lot and they’re expensive chickens, a lot of them, that someone is probably looking for… and my experience with Animal Control tells me that if they come along and take the chickens, the families who bought these chickens will never see them again. I have a lot more faith in my boyfriend’s ability to find local chicken owners on Craiglist or various neighborhood sites than I do in Animal Control’s willingness to actually look for owners of the chickens. So I tell my boys, and my boyfriend, that we should grab as many chickens as we can – not just our own, but all of them, so we can repatriate them to their correct homes.

We start boxing chickens. For most breeds you can get two in a box. Little chickens, sometimes three. My ninja son is an experienced chicken wrangler and my younger son is good at making a lot of noise and scaring chickens toward my older son, my boyfriend, or me. We get our own chickens boxed up quickly and start boxing the other chickens.

Then this woman I don’t recognize shows up and starts screaming at me that she’s called Animal Control and I don’t have any right to have any of these chickens. I point out that some of these chickens are mine, but she isn’t having any. She accuses me of being a chicken thief and insists that the chickens have to go to Animal Control. I tell my ninja son to get himself, his brother and my boyfriend out of here with all of the chickens they already have in boxes, and I distract the woman by arguing with her that I have every right to my own chickens and all of these chickens are mine or belong to neighbors of mine that I intend to return them to, and there’s no need to call Animal Control, who will probably ship the chickens off to a petting zoo and the owners will never see them again. She’s not having any. I’m the worst person in the universe for taking chickens that belong to me out of a yard they don’t belong in.

I stand there arguing with her until Animal Control actually shows up, at which point I head back home, hoping my boys have been smart enough to stash the extra chickens somewhere safe. Here’s where there’s a problem. I have a permit for four hens. Not the six hens I actually own, where the bantams live in the house half the year; the city doesn’t let you keep chickens in your house, never mind that bantams have a hard time living through the winter if they live outdoors. And not the four roosters I own, because you’re not allowed to own a roo in the city, and also you’re not allowed to keep chickens in your basement, which would be a reasonable prohibition if not for the prohibition on roosters and the fact that you can’t sex chicks worth a damn.

While Animal Control is gathering up the chickens we didn’t get to, plus the ducks and the baby peacock (the flamingo has flown off by this time), this crazy woman follows me back to my house, continuing to harangue me about stealing chickens and she’s going to have Animal Control inspect my house. I turn back toward her. “Do they have a warrant?”

“I – what? They’re Animal Control, they don’t need a warrant!”

“The only entity that doesn’t need a warrant is Child Protective Services. Everyone else – the cops, the FBI, the Time Police, the SCP Foundation – they’re all required to get a warrant. Why do you think Animal Control would be an exception?”

“Okay, well! We’ll go to a judge and see about getting that warrant!”

“And who’s ‘we’? Unless you work for Animal Control, you’ve got nothing to do with them getting a warrant. All you are is a complainant.”

“You’re a terrible person who mistreats chickens!” she shouts. “Your yard is horrible, your lawn is nothing but weeds all year long, you put construction trash out on your parking pad, and you keep six chickens when you’re only allowed to have four! Four! Four chickens and only four chickens!”

I’ve just figured out who called animal control on us the first time, when our chickens were confiscated, and I feel sudden rage. “You seem to pay a lot of attention to my house for someone I’ve never seen before,” I say. “You know that stalking is against the law, right? Maybe I need to get a warrant served on you.”

She flounces back toward Animal Control, but now I know that she knows where I live, that she has some kind of long-standing grudge against me, and Animal Control actually listens to her. This could be bad.

So when I get back to the house I find a zoo waiting for me. My sons released all the chickens… into the house. Argh. “You’ve got to get them into the basement,” I tell my oldest. “Use the secret tunnels and get them out of here before Animal Control arrives!”

Animal Control shows up five minutes later when my sons have just finished boxing chickens, and after I’ve just finished texting my wife about what’s going on so she can get back here. They demand to come inside my property because they say I have illegal chickens. I tell them the only chickens I have are the ones I’m permitted to have. They don’t believe me. They tell me they’re going to go and get a warrant. I tell them to have fun with that. They insist they can hear a rooster inside, and my heart sinks, because they absolutely can. The basement roos have set up a cacophony of crowing in response to the sound of all the chickens who my son has just finished boxing up and who were previously running around my house.

Now they’re telling me that if I don’t let them in to get the roosters they can plainly hear, they are authorized to use force. Since when has Animal Control been so hardcore? I can’t afford to let them in; quite aside from the roosters and all the extra chickens, I have an illegal rabbit and none of the cats have licenses. Plus, there’s a tarantula. I can’t remember whether it’s legal to have a tarantula for a pet around here. “Fine,” I snap at them, and with great regret, I go downstairs, I get Dr. Tran and Lyndon, and I hand them over to them to protect the rest.

Meanwhile my sons are in the basement on the other half of the house, the half owned by my in-laws, and they’re using the secret tunnels we dug under the entire street to deliver chickens to every house on our side of the street. My boys managed to recover 16 out of the 24 chickens or so we found running around in that lot, and my older son the ninja dropped 2 or 3 chickens at each house (he kept the game hens and their roo together and left them in our old enemies’ basement. I haven’t talked about our war with the people down the block whose son has always been a terrible person and who always decorate outrageously for the holidays, but you have to hate people who have a 20 foot Frosty the Snowman on their roof all winter long.)

Animal Control leaves. The woman, who is hanging back in the yard watching Animal Control, leaves. My wife arrives. Now the thing you need to know about my wife is that, at heart, she longs to be Big Sister – like Big Brother, but just surveilling everybody without actually doing anything about it. Also, she can’t recognize faces. She recognizes me because my hair is distinctive, but she always mistakes my oldest daughter for one of her friends with a similar hair color, mixes up my son and my boyfriend a lot because they have vaguely similar hair, and one time stalked a guy through a shopping center because she thought he might be her brother. There was absolutely no reason to think he might be her brother, to be honest, her brother lives in a different state. So she’s got all this software on her PC that does facial recognition and matches it against databases.

She takes the pictures my youngest son took with his cell phone of the crazy woman, runs them through her databases, and gets a hit. The woman lives on the street behind ours where all the back yards got bricked up. Don’t recognize her name at all, and my boyfriend confirms she is not one of the people he corresponds with online who’s a fellow local chicken owner. So we have no idea what this woman has against us, but my wife doesn’t care.

She goes online to those places that want you to subscribe to three dozen print magazines, and subscribes to them all, in the name of the crazy lady up the street. She orders cheap sex toys and has them shipped there. She signs the crazy lady up for a subscription to monthly snacks in the mail, and Book of the Month Club, and yes I want more information about energy choice, please send an agent to my home. She gets the woman’s phone number out of online databases and requests car insurance quotes, home insurance quotes, quotes on solar panels, quotes on home renovation, quotes on exorcising ghosts, and please send me information on cruises and destination vacations. She prints the woman’s name on about fifty shipping labels and starts putting moldy VHS tapes of children’s cartoons from the 1990s into envelopes, creates a fake online business so she can buy a Stamps.com account in the name of the fake online business, uses a prepaid Visa card from the drug store to pay for the postage, and mails all the tapes to the woman… one at a time, every day, for two months. She prints fake labels for empty prescription bottles for AIDS anti-virals and really hardcore anti-psychotic drugs and puts them on the prescription bottles, and she’s gonna have my son drop them off in the yards of the neighbors of the woman, but I point out to her that that’s kind of ableist because her entire idea revolves around getting revenge by making the neighbors think the woman is sick, so she shelves that idea.

You don’t mess with my wife.

Animal Control comes back with a warrant the next day. We show them around the house. See? No chickens here. No chickens in our yard, they disappeared. No chickens anywhere in the house! We don’t open any of the doors to the other side of the duplex, so they don’t know that the other side of the house is also ours and therefore they don’t know about the chickens that belong to us that we hid in the basement over there, nor do they know about the secret tunnels we have running under our entire street so they don’t know about the random chickens in the neighbors’ basements. My boyfriend reports that on his neighborhood forums, lots of people are complaining they can hear rooster noises, but they can’t find any roosters, because none of them expect to find roosters in their basements, so they don’t look.

After Animal Control leaves, we go down to the shelter where they drop the confiscated animals, and try to claim four of the eight chickens that got picked up yesterday because if this works, then we’ll find who in the neighborhood lost their chickens and try to get them back to them. We’re told that the confiscated chickens have already been identified as to who they belong to and their owner has picked them up.

Owner, not owners. Remember, you’re only allowed to have 4 chickens per house in this city, but someone managed to get eight.

My son retrieves the various chickens he’d been hiding in people’s basements, we pile them all into the car, and we drive to my boyfriends’ parents’ farm in Canada. Extradite these chickens, assholes. When the heat dies down we can try to find their real owners, we figure. Meanwhile we retrieve our own chickens from the basement on the other side of the house, put four out in the yard and put the two roosters in with the bantam hens, then think better of it and remove MeToo and make him a house rooster. He wears a chicken diaper well enough and he never crows anyway, and Eggy bullies the crap out of him so it’s best he doesn’t stay in an enclosed environment with him.

Then my youngest daughter comes home from school with a story. Apparently there are wild chickens in the woods near our house. What?

I should explain this. We live in a city, but we live close enough to the outskirts and to various parks that there are small patches of nature all over the place. The “woods” is about a block long and four trees deep, hardly what I’d consider woods, but it’s a good place to dump possums when you find them hiding in your laundry room. (Yes. Possums in our laundry room. Lots of them.) So my son and I go back there, and sure as day, yes, there are chickens back there. All of the chickens that got confiscated from that yard, plus additional chickens who have been disappearing from people’s flocks all year. Either somebody has been stealing chickens and then keeping them in a mega-flock in the woods… or the chickens have been escaping, and gathering together.

We leave the chickens where they are; I’m no narc, to rat out chickens who maybe just want to be free. But my son and I do put up wire fencing to keep our chickens from joining them, because one off-leash dog and those chickens could be in a world of hurt. We do notify the other chicken owners in the neighborhood about the woods chickens, and over the next few days, several of the chickens disappear from the woods as they’re retrieved by their owners.

Meanwhile, my wife has continued her vendetta against the crazy lady. She has my son go over in the middle of the night and throw trash into the yard, which she stole from trash cans in the park so there’s nothing that can be tied back to us, and then calls 311 in the morning to report that the woman’s yard is full of trash. She inspects our car every day to make sure no one has slashed the tires, but she uses a ballpeen hammer to break the crazy lady’s headlight because that will get her a ticket. I tell her to let it go. She buys a bale of hay and throws it in the woman’s yard. And she’s still sending moldy videotapes.

A For Sale sign pops up on the woman’s house. We’re currently extending the tunnel network over there so we can sneak in and leave tripe in the air conditioning system and dead rats. It’s not next door to our house, so there’s a very good chance that my wife actually could buy it, this time.

Never found out why she had a grudge against us, but she’s moving out, so who cares.

#52 project #alara original writing #chickens

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persephonescat · 5 years

Text

Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons

Warning for violence!

Ch. 1 Previous Next Masterpost AO3

________________

Ch. 4: Bloody Noses and Broken Bones

She smelled blood. Why was she smelling blood?

The ground seemed not to exist anymore. Was she falling? She could no longer control her body, nothing worked the way it should've. She wasn't sure what was wrong, maybe everything.

Was the sky still there? Or did she just imagine it? The cold air stung her eyes and she saw nothing but unforgiving gray and sickening purple. Everything was too loud, even though there were no sounds, were there? There was something shiny, so, so shiny, somewhere in the back of her mind she was supposed to know it was the Sun, but she was looking at the ground, how could she see the Sun?

Oh, right, there was no ground. There was no sky either, she knew that because the birds started falling like cheap toys, she could hear their bones crack as they collided with something that should've been the concrete but of course it wasn't.

Her heart wasn't beating. She didn't know how she noticed but once it was there her thoughts started flashing crazy fast, she couldn't follow them, she tried to blink to clear her mind but her eyes weren't real. She knew her organs were just an illusion too but she tried to breathe nevertheless. Instantly, some kind of maniacal happiness drilled its way into her skull (it hurt). After all, there was no air to breathe in, right? Silly.

She realized time stopped working and she heard herself laugh regardless of not having a physical body. Something was melting. "Reality," she thought cheerfully, reaching for the dense liquid, its color not similar to anything she ever saw. It felt like silk and oil and cream, smelled of expensive cosmetics and herbs and death.

"Beautiful."

***

On a Tuesday afternoon, with the Sun shining and the birds chirping on the trees, a normal person would never have thought that the city was home to some of the most ruthless criminals on the planet.

For the untrained eye, Gotham looked just like any other concrete-jungle; a little sad, a little shady, a little bit mean sometimes, but otherwise safe. However, Marinette saw the wordless ways of communication between the residents, the way mothers glanced into every alley before turning around the corner, the teenagers walking in large groups to be safer.

If you were a young girl in Gotham and weren't either a complete idiot or in possession of the strength of a hundred Bruce Lees, you didn't go walking around alone. Not to the post office, not to school, not to get Nutella at two AM (no matter how sad that was).

These rules got stricter the deeper Marinette dived into the city. It was fascinating how in only so many minutes, the business and relative safety of the Wayne Tower disappeared as if it was never there to begin with.

Crime Alley was the darkest, most dangerous part of Gotham, the cream of the cream, one could say, as long as the cream was brown like dry blood and rotten to its very core. It wasn't always like that, but time tends to bring the worst out of everything.

Marinette was halfway to St. Anthony Street when she heard a weak voice.

"Okay, just... please, don't hurt us."

"I said give me your wallet!" said a slightly louder voice.

Marinette leaned against the wall and glanced around the corner carefully. A man almost twice her size was standing with his back turned to her, holding a gun to another man's chest, who shielded a little boy with his body.

The smaller man put his wallet in the mugger's outstretched hand. The bastard put it in his back pocket then eyed the man's shaking posture, looking for something else to steal.

"Now, your watch." The little boy whimpered as his father reached to take his watch off. Marinette moved quickly and silently, the way an animal moves in the final moments before killing its prey. By the time someone could notice her, she was standing behind the mountain of a man, her hand already hitting the painful point on his nape, just under his skull.

The mugger yelped and started falling forward but Marinette was already there, hitting the gun out of his hand before he could accidentally pull the trigger, yanking him back by his arm, away from the father and son. She rubbed the pressure point inside his bicep as she stepped in front of him, making sure his arm wasn't strong enough to grab her, then took a well-controlled breath and let it out while swinging her arm and hitting his nose from the bottom, knocking him out completely. She made sure not to let go of his arm until he was on the ground, she didn't want him to break his skull when he landed on the concrete.

Once they were all safe and sound (some less than others), she wiped her hands in her light blue jeans and looked at the shaken up family. The father was staring at her blankly but the boy looked genuinely scared. Of her. She took a step backward, thinking about apologies and explanations.

Why did she do this? She could've had waited until the man let them go and confronted him farther away. She should've taken his gun sooner and hit his ribs instead of his nose. That would've been less frightening to see, right? God, she was an idiot.

The father's grateful voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Thank-... thank you. You saved our lives." The little boy stepped out from behind his dad and nodded sheepishly.

Marinette took a shaky breath and realized the mugger's gun was still on the pavement. How could she forget that? She quickly picked it up, checked it with practiced movements (akumas weren't the only thing in Paris), and made sure the safety is on before giving it to the father.

"Do you know how to handle a gun?" she asked mostly for the sake of formality. She was pretty sure people in Gotham were prepared enough when it came to guns. She made sure to mask her accent, it wasn't that hard to find a french girl in this city, and she had to be careful.

"Yes, I do."

There was a small pause.

"Umm..." she shifted awkwardly, "could you not tell the police I was here?"

That wasn't enough. She knew it. She had to give him something that could justify lying to the cops.

"I'm here with my class, and I think I wasn't supposed to wander this far... I just don't want to get into bigger trouble, I'm sorry."

The man nodded, holding her gaze; a vow of silence holier than any oath made in curt. It came from gratitude and kindness.

She quickly said her goodbyes and took off just as the man dialed the police. She sure-as-hell didn't have enough time to visit the crime scene now.

***

When she got back to the meeting point, thirty minutes before the time they agreed on, she realized her mistake: she didn't have a pair. It was too late. She was forced to go sit with Mrs. Bustier and the stressed-out tour guide, then the teacher insisted that she sat next to her on the bus the way back to their hotel.

By the time she managed to get her off her back, it was already time for dinner and she was seriously considering to kill herself with a fork.

When she climbed up to the roof, Jeremy was already there.

"Hi. What's up? You look like shit," he greeted her.

"Thanks, it must be the jacket."

"You know what I mean."

"I mean, is it more like dog poop or goose poop? Because you see, I was going for the first one, but now I'm concerned-"

"Okay, I get it, I'm sorry!" he said, interrupting her before she could enjoy the situation any longer. She grinned at him in response.

"What's up with the Eskimo-gear?" he asked, gesturing at the red scarf and gloves she was wearing.

"Bold words coming from a guy in a ski mask."

"It's not a ski mask, okay?"

"Yes, it is."

"But it's cool."

"It's cheap."

"Ohh, shut up Miss Give-Me-All-The-Blankets-Or-I'm-Gonna-Freeze-Right-Here-And-It'll-Be-Your-Problem!"

"That was one time!

"We've only known each other for a day, one is plenty enough!"

She stuck out her tongue and sat down next to him.

"What's that?" she asked, noticing something in his hand.

"This? Well, yesterday we talked about child-psychology and stuff and there is this guy, Tamás Vekerdy, who is pretty good, so I thought I could show it to you."

"Okay, just let me get the blankets," she said, standing up.

"Bring extras this time!" he shouted after her.

"Bring your IQ this time!" she shouted back.

________________

Your comments keep me alive enough to write after getting home from ten hours of school, so they're highly appreciated!

Ch. 1 Previous Next Masterpost AO3

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