#look I am trying to be professional but someone says animate and I go feral | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idkcantthinkofaname · 4 years

Text

It takes time/1

Pairing: Jinxreader (Btsxreader)

Warnings: none in this chapter I think

Summary: after finally getting the house y/n always wanted, she find a hybrid hiding in an old shed. Unlike most people who find strays, y/n doesn’t turn him into h.c mainly because there was a lot of shady things that happened with the hybrid control in the area.

Notes: this is the first one I have ever posted for others to read. So I hope you like it

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He laid in the shed trying to escape the cold and keep his fresh cut on his leg from getting too dirty. He hadn’t planned on things going this way. He just wanted to go into town to get some goods for the pack, but someone managed to scared him causing his peacock feathers to pop out. They ended up calling hybrid control and when They arrived, they used way more force then necessary. Thanks to a window in the back of a warehouse, he managed to escape them, but not without Injuring his leg. Lucky for him, he managed to Find an abandoned house with a shed in the back. It wasn’t much but it was enough to hide in until he can head back to the pack. Wish it wasn’t cold.

The Realtor got out of his car as I drove up in the driveway to the house and I got out. “Good morning miss Y/L/N” he said as we shook hands “good morning Mr. Allen” I smiled “ready to see the house?” - The house hasn’t been in for a very long time, mostly because it was out in the mountain. Mr. Allen tried to talk me out of it and get some small house in (city), saying that a girl shouldn’t be living on her own all the way out here, But Nature is where I felt more at home. The house itself was only three-bedroom, two bath, kitchen and decent size living room with a large window wall with the perfect view of the forest that surrounded. While looking around the house. I noticed that there was a rickety shed in the back yard, that was probably going to fall apart as soon as a bad storm hits. Through one of the holes in the shed it looked like something moved inside. I cocked my head to the side and started heading towards the back door. I tugged my jacket closer to me as I walked across the yard. As I slowly opened the door, I locked eyes with a man who had an injured leg huddle so close to the wall trying so hard to hide. I could see in the dim lighting the color of peacock feathers form on his skin…I shut the door. I had to get Allen away, because he would call Hybrid control to come get this stray. If it’s the H.C from this area, this guy would be in trouble.

After finishing up with MR. Allen and getting some final papers signed, the house was all mine! As soon as he left though. I darted straight to the shed. ‘I wonder if he is still there?’ But from the looks of his leg. I’m not sure how far he could get on it. As I opened the door to the shed i could see him staring at me with wide eyes! I raised my hands so he could see them “I’m not going to hurt you” I smiled trying to remain calm. When most people come across strays, they automatically assume they are one of the feral ones that have been seen around the woods. Most attacked people and their pets, so people feared them. He wasn’t giving me the vibes he was a feral hybrid. “I noticed the large cut on your leg” looking down at it then back up. He watched carefully. “It looked like it going to need to be treated.” I shifted from one foot to another. “Um…we can do these two ways…or we” I shook my heads “that sounded mean…. But we can do this whatever way you feel comfortable... if you want, you can come with me back to my apartment so we can take care of that there...” his eyes grew wide in fear “OR you can wait here while I run and get some supplies to take care of that” “I’ll wait” I nodded “okay, it won’t be until later because of the long drive. Let me get the blanket from my car, since the temperature is supposed to drop later this afternoon” he slowly nodded. I went to my car and collected the blanket. It was kind of a thick fuzzy blanket should keep him warm. I headed back to the shed. As I approached him, I held out the blanket “I know it’s smells like me but at least you will be warm” I smile lightly at him. He didn’t look at the blanket as he leaned in to take it. He had all his focus on me, making sure I don’t make a move towards him. As he brought the blanket towards him, he seemed to settle more. “Okay, I’ll be back later.” As I shut the door and headed to leave, I went ahead and got all the electric and water turned on so he can stay in there where it will be warm instead of the shed that could fall with a strong gust of wind.

As I heard her pull out of the driveway, I relaxed a little more. But why wasn’t I afraid of her? Why was her scent so calming, like his pack mates? He felt like he could trust her even though he doesn’t even know her. He wrapped the blanket around him tightly. It was so warm and her scent was all over it. He inhaled deeply. Why is this so calming? The others would have run or attacked her when she came close. That’s kind of why when they needed certain supplies from the town close by, he is the one that goes. He enjoyed going to town. He normally can walk in on and out with no problem. Out of all his brothers he looked and acted more human and he had good control, most of the time, over his animal DNA. He sighed.

Going to the apartment took so much longer because of all the boxes I had to go through, all because I forgot which one it was in. So, it was well after the sunset before I could make it back to the house. I opened the door to the house turning on the living room lights and made sure the heater was turned on. Once I heard it click on, I let out a breath ‘good it still works!’ I had also grabbed blankets for use to sit on and a change of clothing for him. Before I left town, I had gotten some food from the burger joint. Pretty sure it’s been a while since he had gotten a full meal. I zipped up my jacket and made my way back to the shed. He was still there shivering in the cold. His head popped up out from the blanket “I’m sorry it took so long. I got the heater in the house going if you would like to go inside” He slowly nodded his head and tried to stand. I moved forward to help him. “May I?” I asked. He thought for a second before nodding and allowing me to step closer to him. He leaned in. He was a lot taller than what I assumed. Making it into the house, he looked nervous. “Can we stay close to the door?” I looked up at him “if it makes you feel comfortable being close to it yes” I nodded and set him in the corner by the back door “let me go grab the blankets and Med kit” he nodded as he leaned against the wall. Moving quickly to get all the stuff and placing the blankets on the ground for him to sit on. I looked up at him “I... uh brought extra clothing for you…seeing how we going to have to cut the legs pant off.” He stared at me searching to see if i had Bad intentions. after what felt like hours he spoke “okay, thank you” I started cutting the pants part off and began cleaning the wound. Luckily it was just a Flesh wound, a deep one but not life threatening, and after cleaning and bandaging it up it seemed to look okay. “I know you wouldn’t want to but that really needs to be looked at by a professional. “I’ll be fine” he said, his brown eyes drooping. “Okay before you fall asleep let’s get you into something most comfortable” I reached into the bag I brought with the clothing and handed him clean shirt, shorts and sweatpants. And held them out to him. He looked at me kind of confused “why shorts and sweatpants?” I blushed he was way to handsome now that I really got a look at him “well, when we need to change the bandages…. uh…the shorts” god how to I explain this “well it’s so we don’t have to cut any more clothing and you won’t ever have to be…pants less…” He cocked his head to the side “So, you don’t want to see me naked” I choked on air “no, no I wouldn’t.” His eyes seem to light up for a second before he cleared his throat. “Oh, thank you, for being considerate.” He took the clothing. I stood up “I’m going to go check out my new room and get an idea of what I want to do with it before I get my stuff tmrw.” I walked off giving him some privacy.

It took me a whole ten minutes in my new room trying to not panic about how awkward it was to explain the whole pants things that I realized I never asked him his name. Face palm. This should have been enough time, right? Or was it hard for him to work with that leg? I walked out of my room and down the hall way back towards him but stopped at the edge of the living room “hey um, is it okay for me to come out?” I swear I heard a snicker “Yes, I am dressed.” I walked to him “so, what’s your name? I realized I never asked.” He smiled. Shit. “My name is seokjin, but you can call me jin.” “Well hello jin, my name is Y/N” he leaned back and closed his eyes. I wonder when he last got a good night sleep? “I also got some food” his eyes popped open “it’s from a Burger place in the town close by.” I pulled the food out of the bag and handed him a burger. He hesitated for a second before taking the burger out of my hands and wasted no time in scarfing it down. I watched with a smile on my face, because once he was done, he looked so happy “I have another if you would like” he looked at me with big eyes “are you sure?” I smiled and passed him the other burger. He said thank you as he took it and eat it as quickly as he did the first. Now he just looked so tired. “Okay I’m going to head back to my apartment for the night. I’ll be here before the moving van gets here.” I smiled and was going to get up but he grabbed my hand. I looked down at him, he looked like he was arguing with himself “okay, get home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow” he let go and smiled.

After the movers loaded the truck, I speed as fast as I could to get to the house before they could arrive. I had found jin still sleeping in the corner. I managed to hide Jin in a closet while the movers moved stuff in…no, the closet what not my idea, I wanted to put him in my bathroom where no one should have gone but he wanted to be in the closet close to the back door. I didn’t have time to argue so I just agreed. It only took a couple of hours for the movers to move all the stuff in. As soon as they left, Jin walked out of the closet. He didn’t seem happy. ‘It must have been so uncomfortable in there.’ I went over and helped him to the couch. “Now you have something more comfortable to lay on.” I smiled. He smiled but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Make sure the door is locked okay.” He said in a flat voice. Eyes on the front door from the living room. “O-okay.” I went to Lock the door. “Is everything okay?” I asked. As the door lock latched Jin seemed to relax a little. “The movers…. they made some comments about you…” his eyes narrowed. I Gulped “oh well, I’ll make sure everything is locked then.” I walked off to check all the windows and the back door. After doing so jin was a lot more relaxed. As I walked back to him “so what did they say?” Jin jaw tighten “just comments on what your…body would look like naked. how maybe coming back later off of work.” He seems to growl the last part…didn’t know peacocks could make that nose. I fiddled with my hand “oh, well…umm want to have a movie night in here in the living room then? So…Um I won’t be alone.” I’m not saying those men would force stuff…but the way the anger that was in Jīn's eyes, I’m pretty sure he leaving some stuff out. Jin seemed to relax “yea, a movie night would be fun.” He smiled and some of the anger left his eyes. I hoped up “Good! I’ll pop a pizza in the over, find my movie box and get some popcorn ready!” I smiled and went to get started. Jin smiled at how excited you were. He also happy you offered to stay in here with him. Because he pretty damn sure from the comments on how much you would scream in bed with them. He wouldn’t be able to sleep and with this leg he wouldn’t be able to do too much, or get there on time if they tried. But if they did come knocking, he would be the one to answer that damn door. Even though he doesn’t know you well he wants to protect you. Just like he would with his brothers. And he is damn sure not going to let those two movers touch you. At. all. Thinking about his brothers... he wonders how they are doing? By now he is sure they would be out searching for him. Jin hopes he can heal before they find him here. Well before certain ones find him here. As long as it wasn’t namjoon, yoongi or Jungkook, things could go better. If it was them…he shakes his head as Y/N sat back down with movies “so what kind of movies you like?”

#ot7 fic #bts hybrid au #bts #hybrid #hybrid fic

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p-artsypants · 4 years

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Longest Night (42) Speaking

Ao3 | FF.net

“So, it’s been two weeks since Dr. Boucher removed your vocal nodules. Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

Adrien shook his head.

This was his first therapy session. Dr. Robin Zollar, a woman that exuded warmth and kindness. Her voice was sweet and a little silly, and she reminded him of the fairy godmother from Cinderella. That may have been why he was responding to her so well.

Besides speaking, of course.

“Does your throat still hurt?”

Shake.

“Have you actually tried speaking?”

Shake.

“And I’m guessing you really have no desire to either, right?”

Nod.

“Okay. Talking with Marinette, it seems like she’s been speaking a lot on your behalf. That’s fine and all, but you will need to develop a voice of your own. Do you feel like you have no need to speak?”

Nod.

“Because Marinette speaks for you?”

Shake.

“No? Well, that is a lot different than I expected. I would like to know a little bit more about that. Would you be willing to write down what it is that you’re feeling, if you won’t say it out loud?” She pushed a pen and pad of paper towards him.

He stared at it for a long while.

—

“You’re serious?” Marinette crossed her arms and frowned at him.

Gabriel held a tennis ball in his hand. “I mean, it wasn’t my idea. But my therapist said it might be a good way to connect with Adrien.”

“Catch. With his arm in a sling.”

“That’s why it’s a tennis ball.”

Marinette sighed and looked at Adrien. “What do you think, kitty?”

He sat at the end of his bed and shrugged.

“A little physical activity isn’t going to kill you.” Gabriel admonished.

“Yeah, but it could pull his stitches if he’s not careful.”

“Do I look stupid, Marinette? It’s not even catch, we’re just tossing it back and forth.”

Marinette frowned at the man, while Adrien gave a weak grunt.

Gabriel tossed him the ball, and Adrien caught it, throwing it back.

“Sleep alright last night?”

“The usual,” Said Marinette, on her phone while she sat on the couch.

“I was talking to Adrien.”

“Right.”

Marinette listened as the ball was tossed back and forth a few times. Before Gabriel repeated again, “Did you sleep alright last night?”

Adrien didn’t respond.

“I said, did you sleep well?”

There was a grunt.

“Shrugging and grunting mean nothing to me. The doctor gave the okay, you can use your voice now.”

“He doesn’t want to talk,” Marinette pressed. “Don’t force him.”

“Marinette, again, I’m talking to Adrien.”

She chuckled darkly, knowing his efforts were fruitless.

“I have someone who’s coming to visit soon. And your Aunt Amilie and Felix want to come and visit too. That will be fun, won’t it?”

Marinette closed her phone and sat up, looking over the back of the couch to watch this awkward one sided conversation.

“Felix himself emailed me and asked me about you. He wanted continual updates, since they didn’t get the same news broadcast over in London. He really cares about you.”

Adrien just pitifully watched the ball, but did little else. It was obvious Gabriel was not happy with his body language, so he steeled himself into a neutral, professional posture.

Marinette hated it.

“Nathalie was helping with the company while I was busy with the investigation with you. Now that you’re safe, she’ll be taking a little vacation. But she assures me that she’ll be back soon, and that she can’t wait to see you.”

The ball was tossed, caught, tossed.

“Isn’t that nice? Nathalie missed you.”

Toss. Catch. Toss.

“I said, isn’t that nice?”

“He’s mute, not deaf.” Marinette drawled.

Gabriel turned and looked at her. “Look, if you keep talking for him, and encouraging this behavior, he’s never going to speak. It’s learned helplessness at this point, and someone has to train it out of him. So shut up.”

The tennis ball hit Gabriel in the head.

“Excuse me!?” Gabriel whirled at his son.

Adrien hissed at him, like a feral cat.

Gabriel scoffed in disgust. “You’re not an animal! If you are angry with me, I expect you to use your words in a level tone.”

“We were treated like animals for weeks.” Marinette bit. “Sorry, it’s hard to think otherwise.”

“Out,” Gabriel nearly shouted at her. “You’re not helping. Go bother your parents for a while.”

With tears in her eyes, Marinette stood and started from the room.

Adrien whined and tried to follow.

“No!” Gabriel ordered. “You stay here! We’re playing catch!”

Outside the room, Marinette started down the stairs, but got weak and had to sit.

“Yikes, cringe.” Said Plagg, coming up to her side.

“You saw that huh?”

“I’ve been trying to give you both space and privacy, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to watch over Adrien like the little fairy godfather I am.”

“Was Gabriel right? Am I talking for Adrien too much?”

“Ehhhh, I tend to believe that that man is never right. Even when he’s right he’s wrong. But in this case, he’s wrong wrong. You guys are only two weeks out of the hospital. A month out of torture. I’m still trying to catch up with all the footage, and he’s trying to rush the recovery process. But when you do that, it makes everything worse.”

Marinette exhaled, feeling at least vindicated.

“Marinette, even if you do something ‘wrong’ right now, no one should blame you for it. Sure, we’ll reprimand you, but you’re dealing with a lot of shit, and your mind isn’t totally clear. Don’t feel guilty for trying to protect Adrien.”

“Thanks Plagg. That helps.” She glanced up at Adrien’s bedroom door. “I better get back in there.”

Marinette climbed the stairs again, coming up to the door.

As she opened it, she stared in horror as Gabriel stood over Adrien, a finger in his face, nearly spitting in anger.

Adrien’s expression was completely zoned out. A defense mechanism that he had adopted in their hellhole.

He was gone. And would probably continue to be so for a few hours. Did his mind go blank? Or did he retreat into a daydream? There was no way of knowing.

She shouldn’t have left the room.

“…not only is it disrespectful, it’s counterproductive. How are we supposed to help you if you won’t talk to us? You never had a problem speaking your mind before!”

Marinette slid onto the bed next to Adrien, grabbing him around the waist and pulling his head to her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

Adrien didn’t respond.

Plagg got between them and Gabriel. “You’re done.”

“I’m only trying to help.”

“You put him into shock. How does that help him? You’ve removed him from this plain of reality. Great job. Dad of the year.”

“Look, I just wanted to—��

“Are you still here?” Marinette snapped. “Get out. Now!”

“I’m not going anywhere! This is my house, and Adrien is my son!”

“He’s my husband!”

Gabriel clenched his fist. “That wedding was a sham. You’re as much of his wife as you are a ball and chain around his ankle. He’ll never get better with you dragging him back!”

The door swung open, banging against the wall. Marinette jumped at the noise and held onto Adrien.

Tom and Sabine entered, having been sent for by Tikki.

“Can you give us a moment?” Gabriel asked like he hadn’t just verbally punched Marinette in the gut. “We were having a discussion.”

Sabine said nothing, but slapped Gabriel across his face. “Be glad it was only a slap.” She bit.

“That’s assault!”

“And I bet the judge will be real sympathetic to you after what you said to our daughter and son-in-law.”

Gabriel just scowled at them. “I feel like we’ve had this discussion before.”

“We did, and last time, Adrien started crying. We can continue this discussion out in the lobby.”

“I’m not done talking to Adrien!”

Tom cracked his knuckles. “Oh, yes you are.” With one swift scoop, Tom had Gabriel draped over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Put me down! I can walk!”

“This is what I used to do with Marinette when she was a child and threw tantrums in a store. You’re going to act like a child, we’re going to treat you like a child.”

“I’m not a child!” Was the last thing Marinette heard before Sabine shut the door.

“Are you alright honey?” Sabine asked, sitting beside Adrien.

Marinette swallowed back tears. “I knew it…I want to help Adrien…but I’m making everything worse…”

Sabine looked to heaven. “Lord, I’m going to kick that man’s ass.” She shook her head. “No, no Marinette, Adrien needs you right now.” She delicately pet Adrien’s hair. “He feels safe around you, and you understand him the best. Gabriel is lost and frustrated right now. He has no idea how to act. And believe me, it’s hard for us too. I worry every day about what the right thing to do is.”

“But you don’t…you don’t yell at me.”

“Because yelling at you never helped in the past. We’ve talked sternly to you when you were in trouble, and we did groundings, and the occasional spanking when you were very very bad. But yelling only made you afraid and distrusting. I suspect that’s the attitude from Adrien he’s used to.”

Adrien didn’t respond in any way, just continued to bore a hole in the floor with his dull gaze.

“The doctor said that you being together was good. And what does Gabriel know about this kind of stuff? He designs clothes.”

Marinette cracked a smile.

“Your father and I will sit him down and have a good stern talking to him. He’s the one making things worse.”

Marinette breathed a calming breath. “Okay.” She let go of Adrien, only to take hold of his face and guide him to look at her. “Kitty?”

He blinked owlishly at her.

“You with me?”

Another slow blink.

“Is he alright?” Sabine asked.

“No, he’s—“ Marinette clenched her eyes shut. “He was like this back in…”

“That place.”

“Yeah, he…when things would get bad, he sort of…shut down. Salo said it was a sign of death. I think he’s trying to protect himself.” She pet his hair, and kissed his cheeks.

“What can I do to help?”

“Can we move him to the couch?”

Sabine nodded and stood, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Despite being mentally checked out, he was still respondent to movement. As they pulled him to his feet, he stood on his own, though still weakly. They guided him slowly over to the couch and had him sit down.

“Here’s a nice warm blanket. Do you want some tea?”

“Yes please, maman.”

Plagg spoke up from where he was silently watching. “I think Adrien would really enjoy a coke.”

“Are you sure?”

“He might only have a few sips, but it’s his favorite drink.” Then he whispered conspiratorially, “but his dad never lets him have it.”

“Okay, I think I’m following.”

“Marinette, you play video games, right?” Plagg asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. I’ll put in his favorite game, and you play it, and see if that rouses him.”

“Good thinking!”

Plagg floated over to the TV, and turned on the console while Sabine left to get them snacks.

Marinette leaned over and placed another kiss on his cheek.

The drum beats started up as the main menu came up.

Marinette groaned. “Skyrim...”

“What? Don’t like it?”

“I’ve never played it!”

“You’ve never played Skyrim?!” Plagg nearly shouted in mock offense. He didn’t actually care, but old Adrien would have.

“I know the memes, Sneak 100, ‘I took an arrow to the knee’ but I never actually sat down and played it. It’s so long!”

“Well, you got a lot of time on your hands now. Might as well start!”

“Yeah, might as well...”

She modeled her character to look like Ladybug, with red paint over the eyes to replicate a mask.

As she started playing, Sabine came back and left the snacks.

Marinette paused the game to help Adrien take a few sips of his drink. She placed the can in his good hand and brought it to his lips. Then she tilted the can slightly, watching as he drank on his own.

It didn’t rouse a response.

“If this goes on much longer, I’m going to call the doctor.” Said Sabine. “I’m worried.”

“Me too.” Said Marinette, sweeping the bangs from his forehead.

Sabine stayed and watched the game, wincing when Marinette sliced someone’s head off with a sword.

“This is pretty gory, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, it’s almost cartoonish. I...I did much worse.”

Marinette continued to sneak glances at Adrien. He seemed to be watching the screen now, instead of looking through it. His eyes followed her character, and Sabine took it as a sign that he had mostly come back around.

“Feeling a little better, Adrien?” She asked.

He hummed.

So she left them alone.

Tikki sat on Marinette’s lap, while Plagg nuzzled into Adrien’s hair. The room was quiet, the volume on the game turned down, and only soft ambient music was heard.

“I love you.”

Marinette blinked. The voice was so soft, so rough, and wavering, she didn’t think she heard it at first. But she turned to look at Adrien, seeing that he was looking at her. Her breathing picked up, as she waited, begging him to speak again. She bit her lip to keep her from speaking and interrupting if he did say something.

“I didn’t know what else to say.”

She shook her head at him, and turned her body to face him. “Say whatever you want. You know I won’t judge.” She leaned in, staring deep into his eyes to prove he had her full attention.

Adrien rested a hand on hers, squeezing slightly. He met her gaze, holding it with his breath.

“You…” He began, only to pause.

“Yes?” She urged.

“You…are really bad at this game.”

Marinette nearly collapsed on him, she was laughing so hard.

—

Adrien recalled this very special moment with his lady after the therapist handed the notepad. So he had lied. He had spoken to someone. His other half, his partner, his soulmate. But it felt a lot less like ‘finally speaking’ then it did sharing a secret. He had confided as much in her then. He still didn’t want to talk, but with her it was different.

With her, he felt safe, free, and wanted. He could talk for hours, or say nothing. Either way, he was comfortable.

“Adrien?” The therapist asked delicately, as he hadn’t written anything. “If you prefer not to answer, that’s fine too. We have a half an hour left in this session.”

He was inclined to write out his feelings just as much as he was to speak. It was hard to find the words. Much less ones that were worthy of being spoken.

Finally, he admitted what he didn’t want to.

Why bother speaking if no one will listen?

—

It was evening when she arrived. The sun was just about to set, sending La Grande Paris into glittering gold and orange light.

Though it felt weird to be staying in a hotel when her home was just a block away.

Disguised with sunglasses and a handkerchief, Emilie was escorted upstairs to the nicest suite available.

And inside awaited her dearly beloved husband.

“Gabriel?” She asked softly.

She heard his breath caught in his throat. “Emilie…” In a few quick strides, he was on her, embracing her, kissing her, weeping on her. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’m here darling, I’m here…” She whispered, shedding tears of her own.

They stayed that way a long while, just in each other’s arms. Occasionally sharing kisses and words of love.

Finally, Gabriel pulled away to look her up and down. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m actually not. I slept on the plane, and then I’ve been nervous ever since landing.”

“Nervous? About what?”

“About being gone, seeing you again, what I’m going to see…”

“Oh.” He huffed. “Well, did you want to shower? Are you hungry?”

“Yes to both.”

“I’ve packed some clothes for you. Why don’t we get you all settled in, and then I’ll tell you the whole sad story.”

“And Adrien?”

“He’s home.”

“When will I get to see him?”

Gabriel gnawed on his bottom lip. “Well…soon, I hope. But, he’s changed a lot.”

“So have you.” Emilie pet his hair. “You’ve gone gray.”

“I think I look distinguished.”

“You look old.”

“You haven’t aged a day, my love.”

Emilie smiled softly, leaning in to give him a small kiss. “Flatterer.”

“But about Adrien…you see, he’s not speaking to anyone. I’m hoping that seeing you again will give him that spark.”

“Does he know what happened?”

“…not quite.”

“What does he think happened to me? Does he think I’m dead? Would seeing me shock him?”

“I think it might be a little shocking, but he just thinks you disappeared. Makes things a little easier to explain.”

“Speaking of explaining…”

“Shower, dinner, then I’ll get to it.”

At 3 AM, Gabriel hustled out of La Grande Paris, having done far too much damage. Good thing it was dark, or half of Paris would have questioned why the Gabriel Agreste was leaving a hotel late at night while a mysterious woman screamed obscenities at him from a balcony.

#miraculous ladybug #longest night #ml #ladybug #chat noir #gabriel agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette

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lindendragon · 4 years

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Another Subcon au idea, I just love them ok.

Going off the popular headcanon that Snatcher only started stealing souls because he had to to counter Vanessa and keep her from freezing everything, which, along with his initial trauma, caused him to go mad. What if Vanessa, after her whole flash-freeze of Subcon, just chilled (ha) and left Subcon alone to sulk in her manor? The Prince/Snatcher doesn't need to steal souls because of that. So, none of that, but the Prince still finds out about his new soul-snatching abilities either by going a little feral on some poor lost sap's warm soul the first time he sees someone who isn't dead, similar to fedoraspooky's headcanons, or he accidentally snatches and eats the soul of someone who wants to kill him because he's a "monster", another thing I took from a fic. He, of course, feels bad for his first murder, and vows never to do it again, until… well, you'll see soon enough. The occasional animal soul is enough to keep him going. As tempting as it is to make himself more powerful, what he has now is enough to take care of his subjects as long as Vanessa doesn't come out, which she, judging by everything, probably won't, so it's fine.

So this au is basically Snatcher if he had morals and wasn't evil.

He still has the same trauma and other emotional issues people generaly headcanon him with, more specifically Doodledrawstings' and Fedoraspooky's and other's headcanons. In short, he still builds up walls, doesn't ever want to be vulnerable or get attached to anyone ever again. He hates who he used to be and blames himself for not seeing the red flags of his and Vanessa's relationship. He does not want to be reminded of the past in any way. Moonjumper like the one from Doodledrawsthings' au exists and Snatcher, despite being a better and more mentally stable person in this au, still hates him for being a reminder of his past self and drives him away. He's basically just hiding behind his smile and morbid jokes all the time while dying on the inside. Depending on his mood, he is either the easily irritable grouch we see in canon or a complete jokester.

Now to the specifics

There's still people coming to the forest and potentially going to the manor and getting killed by Vanessa, not to mention they disrupt the peace here, so Snatcher decides to scare them off.

At first it's just the classic "I am a scary ghost, get out of my forest", but after a while he decides to have some fun with it.

When he's feeling up for it, he and his minions prank and mess with the trespassers.

Occasionally, he'll give out contracts for small chores before letting the contactor go, but only to trespassers he really doesn't like, like those that are deliberately trying to harm his forest.

Sometimes he will act like the Beta version of Snatcher and steal a few pons here and there, never much. He then uses that money to buy himself or his minions something (he shapeshifts and wears a disguise on the rare occasions he goes outside the forest).

His favorite thing to do to a trespasser is to make minor special effects with his powers while chanting ominously about their sins. Scares the crap out of people and sends them running every time. Sometimes people even crack and admit things they have done and beg for mercy. If that happens, Snatcher will usually call them out on it and send them away with the threat that he will know if they don't make up for their mistakes because he knows all (he doesn't). So suffice to say, some people have been straightened out by the experience. But it's not all fun and games. Sometimes the things people have admitted to are, to avoid specification, simply heinous. At that point, Snatcher decides "Screw it, I'm finishing them off and eating their soul." People this bad, or at least, those that admit to it, rarely appear, but it happens, and Snatcher feels that the world is better off without them. At least that's a somewhat humane way of procuring souls.

On a lighter note, sometimes he just chants ominously about tax evasion or something, and sometimes the prospect of it, and not just the spookyness, genuinely scares the Mafia goons.

Honestly the Mafia goons are the most common targets of his more silly pranks

One day someone dropped their phone while they were running away, and after messing around with it for a bit Snatcher finds out how it works. There were memes on that phone and he also manages to get on the internet and it all goes downhill from here.

Mafia goon, to others: Let's face it, Mafia is stranded-

Mafia goons: Look, blueberries!

Snatcher, in a vaguely humanoid but noodly form, shaking the branch while standing on it: Oh my god, my berries.

Mafia goons:*terrified screaming*

Snatcher:*exaggerated giggling*

Some guy, filming himself while walking through the forest: Hey guys we're going through this forest that is supposedly haunted. Apparently some girl died here when she was like nine or something.

Snatcher, in the shape of a little girl: I'm eleven so shut the peck up.

Snatcher, popping out of the bushes: Vsauce, Michael here. How fast can you run?

Someone, walking through the forest, but then they hear, in the distance "hee hee", every once in a while it repeats, coming closer and closer, I mean it, just this jerk, going "hee hee" in Michael Jackson's voice

The stolen mail delivery service is still going strong in this au

When Hat Kid arrives he does the classic "scary ghost" thing this time, but more child-friendly, cause he still doesn't want to severely traumatize kids, so he's a little gentler with them. Hat Kid is not as scared as Snatcher thinks she should be and she won't leave. Snatcher has to physically throw her out of the forest, but every time she goes back and insists on getting her Time pieces back. It's when she says that she detects a Time piece in the direction of Vanessa's manor that he finally snaps

Snatcher then iniciates a boss fight where he pretends that he is going to kill her, hoping that will scare her off.

Hat Kid, of course, beats him and makes him allow her to get the Time pieces. Snatcher is still reluctant, but after what she pulled off, he has hope that she will survive Vanessa (on the outside he still acts like he doesn't care about her safety though).

After Hat Kid gets all her Time pieces, Snatcher approaches her with the "Get out" contact, which Hat Kid promptly scribbles on like in canon and tries to get Snatcher to be her BFF. Since in this au, Snatcher has no leverage over her in the form of her soul or her Time pieces, he allows her to visit the forest as long as she signs a contract to never go near the manor again, which Hat Kid signs right away this time, because darn, that lady is scary.

Hat Kid visits a few more times, and Snatcher finds himself getting attached.

Wow, he kept a somewhat professional relationship with his minions for 300 years (sure, he fixes their plush bodies and messes with trespassers together with them and gives them mail and buys them little gifts, but that was more like how a king treats his subjects, or so he tells himself) and then this kid comes along and throws it out the window.

Of course he is in denial for a while, can't let himself be vulnerable, can't indulge in this, that opportunity was gone the moment he died, he is a scary ghost

Nah he's dad now

Snatcher goes from being forest cryptid to still being forest cryptid but with 200 adoptive ghost children and one alive alien child, two if bow exists, whatever your headcanon is.

Btw if you wanna ask me about my au's, you can do so, but I probably won't answer till july when exams are over idk.

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doberbutts · 4 years

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This is something that’s just been pinging around in my head as I continue to focus all my energy into keeping a certain chihuahua puppy alive, that’s been bothering me but I haven’t had a chance to actually put into words.

And that’s how it really, really bugs me how hypocritical and up-their-own-ass some rescues and the “adopt don’t shop” crowd can be.

As many of you guys are aware, my whole life I have been dedicated to rescue. I helped my vet run a feral cat rescue for years, personally finding, catching, and retrieving cats from all manner of situations even before I was 15. My very first dog training apprenticeship was with a shar pei rescue to help rehabilitate some of their tougher cases. I ran fundraisers and gathered donations for the local shelter in my hometown, even was part of the process to turn it from a “kill” shelter to a “no kill” shelter. I adopted many animals from them in the past, encouraged my friends and family to do the same. I’ve done transportation runs and overnight stays with doberman rescues, I’m part of a drive with another city’s animal control to provide insulated dog houses to outdoor dogs in this very cold climate, I knock my work donations out of the park when it comes to our rescue partners and their fundraisers. Most of my clients are rescue dogs. Even my first doberman was a rescue. Even my new chihuahua is a rescue.

So you can’t say I haven’t done anything to try and solve the rescue problem.

Additionally I’m a home with a fenced yard, a lot of dog experience, only adults in the house, we all work rotating schedules so someone is always home with the dogs, fantastic relationship with the vet, everyone’s vaccinated, several of us are working professionals in the dog world itself, we train and groom our dogs, our neighbors have nothing but good things to say about our dogs, many of the dogs here are titled in some venue, none of our dogs are obese or absolute brats, many of the dogs go to work with us meaning they’re not even being left alone in the house on the off chance no one’s home that day, and we all have fantastic references regarding the quality of care we provide our dogs. We research everything from food to training methods to the kind of material our collars are made out of.

Sounds like a good, responsible home, right?

Except roughly two months ago when I was putting out feelers to adopt a chihuahua, I was denied because these things cancel all the rest out:

Intact (non-breeding) (male) dogs in the house (when trying to rescue a neutered male)

Rental (despite the fact that we own dogs and our landlord gives zero shits)

Big dogs in the house (despite the fact that there are also little dogs)

Dog allergies in the house (everyone is allergic to dogs and everyone also owns dogs and manages their allergies with meds)

We’re young and might want children and then what will happen to the dog? (literally, that was a reason I was given. I’m almost 30 and my current partner who’s the same age knows I absolutely refuse to have biological children or to raise an infant, two roommates are similarly child-free by choice, and two roommates literally can’t have children so...)

Young people don’t have good jobs and so can’t afford vet bills (*hard staring at Tiki’s $1k in vet bills and growing* *hard staring at the $1.5k I spent in a single weekend when Creed decided to go anaphylactic from a bee sting* *hard staring at the $7k spent to save a beloved family dog from bloat and then she died from complications anyway*)

Being the person that I am, I check petfinder regularly to tell clients about dogs if they mention they’re looking to add another to their household, and almost every single one of the dogs I was denied adoption are still in rescue. One was adopted.

Not to mention these dogs are $5-700 and are imported from southern states and out of country which does make me a little peeved that these particular rescues are also harping on about pet overpopulation when clearly there’s not that big of a problem here or else they’d source their dogs locally.

There were some rescues willing to adopt to me, but simply didn’t have dogs that would be a good fit (and one that adopted out a dog I wanted but I was last in line for so w/e). This is not a condemnation of all rescues for sure. But it’s sad to see these rescue ads begging people to adopt these dogs, and then have those same rescues turning away good adopters because of a frankly bullshit list of criteria.

#text post

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jjkfire · 5 years

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Preydator

Reader x Jungkook // shifter!AU, raccoon!jk // 6k words

Summary: Neither of you are quite the predator the two of you claim to be. + “I wonder what the people would say if they saw big mean lion predator tending to my wound right now.” raccoon!jk & (surprise (; hehe)!reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Okay I know scientifically raccoons aren’t exactly preys bc they eat rodents and frogs and etc. but… for the purpose of this fic, they are classified as preys. Predators in this au refers to… tertiary consumers, like top trophic level dudes. Also, football = soccer. Sorry, calling it soccer is very awkward for me!

You’re no stranger to late nights at the library. In fact, you love them. Your brain just works better at 1 am than it does at 1 pm. You also like it when there’s far fewer people in the quiet section of the library. The scent of all the others in the room can get a little too overwhelming for someone like you so, you’re truly at your happiest when there’s only a handful of people around.

Most people don’t like to stay at the library past 2 am because that’s when the campus buses stop running but you don’t really mind. Walking home at 3 in the morning after a long study session when the streets are eerily quiet, doesn’t faze you at all. It’s calm, peaceful and it makes you feel at ease. Your walks are usually uneventful and that’s probably a good thing. You have a small handheld can of pepper spray just in case of anything but in all your semesters here, you’ve only had to use it once and that had been a while ago, but perhaps you spoke to soon because tonight you find yourself gripping that small can in your hand, heart thumping loudly against your chest.

There’s the sound of a loud tortured squeal and you can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from. You pick up your pace attempting to get away from the source, but you don’t really know where to go. You know the sound is coming from a hurt animal and just that thought alone makes you sweat, because it probably means that a predator shifter that’s out of his or her senses is on the loose. Sure you should try to help whatever it is that’s making that noise but you reconsider the fact that you are but a tiny prey shifter and that if you do stop to help, you’ll probably be the next victim.

The squeals seem to echo no matter how far you walk, in fact they get louder and you start to run, your hand fumbling for the can of pepper spray in your pocket. You stumble, the loud clang of metal ringing through the night as you trip over a misplaced manhole cover. You whine, groaning in pain when you end up on the floor. The squeals are more urgent now, as if it was warning you of what’s to come and god, you shut your eyes, hoping that whatever feral predator that’s lurking will hopefully end your life quick, unlike its previous victim that’s still screaming in pain.

You’re waiting and waiting and waiting but the fatal bite to your neck never comes. You can still hear the squeals, less urgent this time, almost like there’s no effort in them. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, dusting off the dirt on your knees after you had taken a quick look around to make sure you were safe. You let out a whimper when you press at your injured toe. Surely it was going to bruise, you sigh, mumbling to yourself. At that sound, you hear the loud squeals again, accompanied with the sound of water being sloshed about. Odd.

Just up ahead, you see a hole in the ground, presumably where the manhole cover you just tripped over was meant to go. You inch towards it slowly, carefully, unsure if it was just a trap. If you were being honest, all of this seemed eerily like the opening of a horror movie. Despite your gut telling you to just take off and run, you risk a peek down the hole in front of you and in there you see the source of all your panic tonight, a poor little raccoon, limping around and squealing as it peered up at you.

“You poor baby,” You frown, as you watch the raccoon try to reach for the metal rungs on the side of the wall, attempting to climb up towards you. “Just wait down there. I’ll come get you!”

You take one last look around you, ensuring that the injured raccoon wasn’t being used to bait you because yes, you’re that paranoid. You remove your backpack and slowly make your way down into the sewer, nose wrinkling at the awful stench. When you reach the bottom, the raccoon stands aside timidly as if it was afraid of you and you offer it your hand, to show that you meant no harm.

“I’m no predator, don’t worry,” You laugh as it comes up to sniff you. “Let’s get you home, huh?” You murmur as you attempt to pick it up, making sure you avoid the large gash you see on its side.

“You still want these?” You ask, pointing to the clothes that are drenched in sewer water and it shakes its head no. Thank god. You didn’t want to touch it in the first place. With that, you attempt to climb up the metal rungs with just one available hand. It’s a bit of a struggle and you can tell that the little raccoon is attempting to muffle its pained squeals, burying its head in your shirt.

When you finally get back to ground level, you see that the gash the raccoon has is much worse than you had thought. It seems weak, tired, and when you ask if it could point you the way of its house, it only blinked at you. You can see the poor animal shivering in the light breeze, whimpering as it attempted to limp closer to you. You guess you had no choice but to bring it home with you.

When you finally reach your studio apartment, you quickly got a towel, helping the raccoon to dry off as best as you could without touching the wound.

“So… now what?” You ask out loud but you’re mainly talking to yourself because you know the animal has no capacity to answer you. “I think this will be easier to treat in your human form,” You point at his wound. “What’s your trigger?” You question.

Shifters mostly stay in their human form and only turn into their animal form when they experience any one of their specific triggers. For some it’s when they get angry, a very common trigger for large predators. For some, it’s when they’re hurt, for others it’s when they feel threatened and for the raccoon that you’ve just rescued, it’s apparently food because it’s limping towards your fridge, trying to nudge the door open.

“Food?” You ask as you catch up with it. “Okay, but first we gotta clean your hands,” You smile, as you bring the bottle of hand sanitizer down from the counter to sanitize its tiny little hands. An audible coo leaves your lips as you watch it rub its small palms together. Raccoons, you sigh lovingly. How could anyone hate them?

You open the door to your fridge, humming as you look at the contents of it, or perhaps lack of it.

“Sandwich?” You ask. All you had in your fridge was one half of the grilled cheese sandwich you had made last night. “I mean that’s all I have anyway, so the answer is going to have to be yes,” You chuckle as you pop it into the microwave.

“Just wait here,” You say as you move towards your closet to grab another towel. A cleaner and much larger one because you know once the raccoon shifted back, it was going to be stark naked and you didn’t want any… surprises. The microwave dings, and you hear the raccoon let out excited squeals, attempting to climb up onto the counter despite its injury.

You laugh, bringing the plate down to the floor before you watched it grab the sandwich with its little hands. The raccoon was absolutely adorable, munching on its sandwich and you’ll admit you’re quite a fan of the animal, if it wasn’t already evident from the numerous raccoon plushies sat on your bed. It’s a guilty pleasure but you often watch cute raccoon videos in your free time. Raccoons just have those cute tiny hands and that adorable little face and some of them are so chubby that all you wanted to do was pick them up and cuddle them. You’re sort of lost in your own thoughts about raccoons that it takes the tugging of the towel to bring you back to earth. When you look back down, you realise that in those few minutes your new raccoon buddy has finished the sandwich, which meant it was going to shift back soon. It’s probably why it had pulled at that towel with such urgency. It doesn’t get too far, just out of your small little kitchen before you hear a loud thump and a subsequent groan.

You quickly move towards the sink to wash the plate, trying to pretend like this was totally normal. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you like an oncoming train and so you continue pretending that your heart isn’t beating at 1000 miles per minute, that you didn’t have a complete stranger in your house and maybe you realize how naïve and stupid you are now that there’s a full grown human that you don’t know in your apartment. What’s worse is that it’s a man and you know that because that voice is way too deep for it to be a woman’s and—

“Hello.”

“Umm, hi,” You mumble, looking up from the plate that you have just set aside to see a half-naked man staring back at you. It takes you a second, maybe two before you go, oh because you’ve got the campus’ prized fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook, in your apartment... wearing nothing but a towel on his hips.

“Oh my god,” He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I sort of realized in the sewer, but I digress. It’s you! Y/N the meme girl!” He laughs. “You know the uhh that—” He stops his sentence halfway, drop-kicking the air in front of him. “—that girl.”

“Yes,” You sigh. “I’m that girl. All thanks to you, Jeon Jungkook the professional meme maker.”

“I just edited funny text on the video,” He shrugs. “It’s basically all you… and Choi Junho of course. That sucker,” He laughs.

God, if there was one person you didn’t want the raccoon to be, it would be Jungkook. Scratch that, there’s two people you didn’t want it to be and one of them is Jungkook and the other would be Choi Junho, but you are well aware that Junho is no raccoon.

Junho is a beloved player on the college basketball team. People worship the ground he walks on and everyone, and really everyone loves him. He’s the reason your college’s basketball team has been doing so well. Back in freshman year, like everyone else, you liked him too. When you found out you were sharing a discussion section of one of your classes with him, you were ecstatic. You just wanted to be able to say ‘Oh yeah Junho and I are in the same discussion section. He’s pretty nice.’ at parties to make others envious and not really anything more than that. You never expected to know him any more than the usual classmate whom you would talk to in class and then smile politely at if you were to bump into each other in public, and for a long time, it was just that.

Then, one night at some Halloween house party, you bumped into him while you were pouring yourself a drink. He seemed sober for the most part and so were you. A few glasses later however, neither of you were sober and in some dark corner of the house, he had his tongue down your throat, his hands roaming all over your body. He kept asking if you wanted to go upstairs and for a moment you felt... good, because look at you, you were just seconds away from sleeping with arguably the most popular guy on campus. Yet, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Maybe it was the contents of your stomach that was threatening to come out any second now. So, you said no, respectfully, and told him you were comfortable right there. Honestly, you thought after that he would move on to someone else, his next prey or whatever, but he hung around, asked if you wanted to head back to his place, asked if he could walk you home, asked if you wanted to reconsider going upstairs. You got away from him somehow, you couldn’t remember how but you do remember dreading the fact that you would have to see him in discussion after the weekend.

You hoped that it had been the alcohol that made Junho so… creepy, that perhaps he would have forgotten everything and gone back to just knowing you as that person in his discussion section, but come Monday, you realised he had no intention of forgetting. He flirted with you shamelessly, pressuring you to go out on a date with him, always repeating himself even when you had respectfully declined, numerous times. Eventually, hes seemed to get the hint and instead, he would ask to meet at the library on the pretext of getting some work done, but then halfway through studying you could feel his hand on your knee. Although you guessed that could be a friendly gesture, it made you uncomfortable and so you would always find an excuse to leave.

The worst part of all of it though was the fact that he didn’t feel guilty or bad or any sort whenever he saw how uncomfortable he made you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was some sick game for him. He would text you all the time, find ways to sit next to you in lecture and discussion, show up at parties you were at, tried to befriend your friends. You felt like you couldn’t really tell anyone about the situation because Junho was well, Junho. He was popular, well-liked and if you were to say that you felt like he was borderline stalking you, you would be labelled as pretentious or an attention seeker.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, because his aura in general scared you. He was a predator. You knew just from his scent. Predator shifters are rare, they are revered and Junho was rather proud he was one. He was a panther and when he was toying with you, you could see it in his expression, the mischievousness and power that he held. Whenever you were near him, you felt like you were in danger. You felt like if you said no one more time, he would just find ways to make you say yes. So, you tried your best to isolate yourself and you tried to find excuses so you could attend a different discussion section. You even changed your phone number. You did everything you could to get away from him. It did nothing to deter him though and he even bothered you well through winter break and into the following semester.

Then came the fateful day. Valentine’s Day. He had stopped you in the middle of the quad, with a box of chocolates in hand, handing it to you so everyone could see, so you were under pressure to accept. You didn’t want to. You knew that if you did, he would get the wrong idea and so you said no thank you, soft and quiet so nobody but him could hear. He insisted and put the box into your hand with that sick, sick smile on his lips. Everyone was cooing, smiling and you didn’t want that. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that all eyes were on you, all the attention was on you and most of all you didn’t like the way he was looking at you like he had won, that you were his prey for the taking now. You wanted to run, your prey instincts told you to, but you know doing that meant that he would still be the winner so, you did what you thought was best. You took a deep breath, stretching your hand out, you dropped the box of chocolates and kicked it as high and as far as you could. You could hear gasps of horror, the look of surprise on everyone’s face and in the commotion of it all, you took your chance to escape. You were still shaking even when you went to bed that night.

The aftermath of it all was uncontrollable. There were so many videos of it online, from numerous angles. It was starting to get out of hand and you were receiving messages from strangers, half of them cussing you out, wishing you misfortune and the other half congratulating you on your— in their words— big dick energy. It was absolute chaos but you had achieved what you wanted and Junho was nowhere to be seen… until of course Jungkook came into the picture.

See, it was all fine and dandy until the ever wonderful Jeon Jungkook decided to produce numerous meme edits of the incident. They had titles like me @ my responsibilities and me @ my money, with accompanying music and video effects. What was a video that was popular campus wide soon became a viral video that had spread all across the world. Everyone and really, everyone recognized you as the girl who drop-kicked some loser’s gift… which meant now everyone recognized Junho as the loser who got his gift drop-kicked.

There was a shift of attitude on campus and suddenly people either feared you or wanted to be your friend. You were rumoured to be either a poisonous prey, or the more popular theory, some predator, perhaps a lion. That could not be any further from the truth, but in any case, you liked that. It meant that people feared you so, you played into that belief, made people around you think that you were in fact a predator when you were a prey. Lion shifters were extremely rare, the rarest of the rare and so you achieved that stay away from her status that you could have previously only dreamed of. You bought some predator scent spray online and you had the resting bitch face to match too and so that’s how sophomore year went for you. Good, quiet. People admired you from afar, kept their distance. It was nice and you didn’t have to fear walking around campus at night because you knew that people knew not to come near you. All except one, of course.

Choi Junho was not one to back down and so he came up to you when you were on your routine walk home from the library, alone and vulnerable. First, he appeared apologetic, head bowed down, shifting his weight from one feet to another, but the next second, he had you pinned against the wall, hand on your throat.

“You poor little thing,” He smirked. “You may have everyone fooled but oh, not me.”

His grip on your throat tightened and you could see it, his eyes beginning to change, that familiar feral glow beginning to show.

“I knew you liked playing games. You like being hunted, don’t you?” He licked the corners of his lips. “You want me to chase you, you want to feel powerful, but in the end you want me to put you in your place, don’t you?”

You struggled against him, gasping, your hand trying to loosen the grip he has around your neck.

“I love it when you look like this,” He grinned, wiping away your tears with his free hand. “All desperate and weak for me.”

Your fingers finally closed around the can in your pocket and with the little strength you had left, you sprayed it in his eyes, hoping to god that it actually works. The boy in front of you cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground as he wiped his eyes. You took the opportunity to kick him right in the gonads, a few times too many. People like him should never be allowed to reproduce. You told yourself it was in self-defence, but you knew it was mostly for revenge. That was the last time he bothered you. You never tried to report the whole incident. You had no proof anyway so, you continue to pretend like it was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. Junho’s still the campus’ beloved basketball star and you’re only one of the many girls he had tried to get with. You wonder if there are other girls like you out there, girls who had to suffer under his hands. That’s a thought you keep locked far, far away.

“Seems like I uhh, brought up some bad memories,” Jungkook mumbles when he notices the grimace on your face. You realize you’ve been silent for way too long and so you shake yourself out of it, bringing your attention back to the boy in front of you.

“Something like that I guess…” You murmur. “Anyway, so, you umm want to get cleaned up? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants that you might fit. Might.”

“As long as they’re not Junho’s,” He jokes and all that garners out of you is a sneer.

“They’re mine,” You mumble, walking towards your closet to pull out some clothes. “Not fashionable in the least, but it’s better than walking out there naked.”

“Uhh debatable but okay, fine, true,” He nods as he looks to see if the clothes would fit. “Thanks… for the clothes and for umm everything, really. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck down there... and with the gash and all, it could’ve ended badly for me.” He points to the cut on his chest which is considerably less menacing than when it took up almost half his body when he was in his animal form.

“It’s no big deal,” You mumble. “And yeah we’ll get that wound sorted out after you shower. Make sure to clean the area when you’re in there.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes, before you point him in the direction of your bathroom.

This surely wasn’t the way you imagined meeting the guy who propelled you to meme stardom. You expected it to be more hostile but then again, he’s injured and you can’t beat someone when they’re down can you? But, perhaps what surprised you more than anything was the fact that he was your kin, a prey like you and also, a liar.

See, Jungkook is a forward on the football team, a college athlete and that meant two things. One, he is a predator and two, he’s well-liked. Though the latter is unfortunately an undeniable truth, the first one however, considering what you’ve seen tonight is definitely false. This is important because only predators are allowed to be athletes and a major perk of being an athlete is the scholarship that comes along with it. No matter how good prey shifters are at a certain sport, they would never get to be an athlete and would instead have to compete for academic scholarships which are extremely hard to obtain. So the big question here is how did that fluffy little raccoon book his spot on the football team?

You guess he looks the part of a predator shifter, with a lean body and a fair amount of muscle mass… (not that you were looking at his body at all that is). Also, the fact that he doesn’t cower away from social interaction helped with the predator persona as most prey shifters tend to keep to themselves. Maybe you ought to take a pointer or two from him.

To you, it’s odd that he’s on the football team. He wasn’t an exceptional athlete as per se, in fact if you remember correctly, he spends most matches on the bench. Though you’d argue that even so, he seemed to be more popular than the guys who usually made it onto the first team.

He’s known on campus for being that guy, you know that 10/10 boyfriend guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your parents because you know they’ll love him, but he’s also the kind of guy that would fuck your brains out... but also the kind of guy that would take you on cute little dates. Yeah, you know, that guy. You’re not sure why you know all of this. Probably because in your first year at the dorms, those around you would not shut up about him, ever. From what you know, he got around but was always clear that he never wanted anything more. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget names or lead someone on. He was always respectful. From the short flings he had, they always seemed to end... well, on mutual terms and the girls never had anything bad to say other than that he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Rather, a wholesome fuckboy, if one ever existed.

You could definitely see it. He’s nice, charismatic, that much you deduce as he attempts to make small talk with you now that he’s done with his shower, but you realize he is also definitely trying to avoid getting his wound tended to. You’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to be half naked just a little while longer to garner a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely afraid of the pain that comes with applying antiseptic cream to a raw wound.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine,” You sigh, from where you’re seated on your bed. “I’m not your mother, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know it has to happen, but it… it stings,” He frowns, joining you. “Cleaning the area with water was already painful enough.”

“Well, just say whenever you’re ready then,” You sigh, turning away from him to turn on the TV.

“Okay, fine, just do it now,” He mumbles. “But— but be… gentle.”

You almost laugh at the way he looks in front of you right now, all timid and afraid. It was a huge contrast to how he appeared on the banners around school, all proud in his football jersey with his arms folded across his chest.

He winces every so often as you apply the cream to his wound, soft whimpers leaving his lips. You’re trying your best to be delicate, and you think you’re doing quite a fine job because halfway through when you look up at the boy, he’s smiling.

“I wonder what the people would say if they saw big, mean, lion predator tending to my wound right now uwu,” He coos, when your eyes finally meet his.

“Did you actually just say uwu out loud?” You gawk, pulling your focus away from his wound. “You know it’s an emoticon right?”

“Yes, but it’s also a feeling. See, uwu,” He coos again, his voice pitched higher. “It’s a feeling,” He reaffirms, grinning, as if what he had just said made perfect sense.

“Maybe I’ll just stick this cotton bud into your wound, and we’ll see how uwu you’re feeling.”

“Please… please don’t do that,” He grimaces.

Though the wound is not deep, you do think he should at least go get checked for the numerous bruises that litter his skin. He’s in pain, you know that for sure and he’s trying to downplay how much exactly, but you are no fool. Considering that it was a bad fall, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hairline fracture on one of his limbs. Jungkook waves your concern away, simply thanking you when you bandage his wound. He finally, finally puts on his shirt and you expect him to dash out of your house, but he seems to linger, as if he had something to say but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I see you’re a fan of mine,” He smiles, pointing to the numerous raccoon memorabilia that decorates your bed and side-table.

“Don’t read too much into it. I like the animal, yes, but I didn’t know you were one so, not to worry, I am not a member of the Jungkook fanclub.”

“That’s a shame. I hear the club has nice perks, like you know, quality time with me,” He smirks. “Which honestly speaking, is a rare commodity.”

“My, now I’m just dying to be in the club,” You huff, rolling your eyes. “You know, wouldn’t your fans be disappointed to find out that the guy they’re fawning over is not in fact a predator but a prey instead.”

“About that…” He sighs, hands nervously tugging at the ends of his shirt. “You know we’re in the same boat, don’t you? We’re both sheep in wolves clothing.”

“Nice twist on the idiom, I like it,” You nod. “But, I feel like you’re trying to make a point here. What is it?”

“That if you tell on me, then I’m telling on you,” He mumbles. “I’m not a fan of blackmail but I really, really need this scholarship.”

“Nice to know you think so poorly of me even after all I’ve done tonight but just so you know I have no interest in revealing your secret.”

“That’s not… that’s not how I meant for it to come out,” He sulks. “I just needed to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“Yeah, I understand,” You murmur. “I am curious though. How did you cheat the medical test? How did you get them to believe you’re a bear when in fact you’re a raccoon? Shouldn’t you have gone for a more believable animal like say… a fox?”

“Well, for someone who’s such a huge fan of raccoons I’m disappointed by the fact that you aren’t aware that raccoons are more closely related to bears than to either the cat or dog family,” He mumbles. “Thus, I did pick the most believable animal.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” You hum. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain how—”

“I hired someone to change the results for me.”

“You can do that?”

“If you know the right people, yeah.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people,” You mumble. “And your scent… how do you work around that?”

“I can’t use the spray because I’ll basically sweat it all off so I use that supplement… you know the one you see sketchy ads of on TV?”

“Preydator! Tell your fears, see ya later!” You sing-song, imitating the ad you often saw on TV. The jingle was rather catchy. “That one? It actually works?”

“Yeah, for now, but who knows maybe in 20 years after they’ve done adequate research, they’ll tell me that it’s killing me slowly.”

“That’s very disconcerting to hear…” You frown. “If you’re a quote unquote certified predator then you could’ve avoided this by just applying for the academic scholarships. Why didn’t you do that? The requirements are extremely low if you’re a predator.”

“Because I’m good at football,” He says rather nonchalantly. “And I have a bone to pick with the athletic department. Preys should be allowed to be on the team if we’re good enough.”

You almost say but you aren’t that good at football but you guess making it on the bench of the first team is still a feat, so you decide to hold off on that thought.

“So, now that you know all my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me one of yours,” He smiles. “What are you?”

“Hey, I never said we were going to trade secrets. You just decided to tell me all of yours.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” He frowns. “At least let me guess. Then you can just say yes or no.”

“Go ahead,” You smile. You were positive he wasn’t going to get it right.

“Rabbit? No?” He queries and you shake your head. “What’s… what’s a prey with attitude? Because that’s what you are.”

You only gawk at him. This guy just says whatever he wants. You’re starting to think that everyone else sees a different side of Jungkook or maybe they just excuse his sass just because of his good looks.

“A… frog? Or oh… don’t tell me you’re an insect shifter,” He grumbles with mild disgust.

“You know, that’s really mean but no, I am not an insect shifter.”

“You sure? You could easily be a black widow or maybe you’re one of those poisonous animals like that poisonous sea snail or—”

“Okay,” You huff, annoyed with the boy now. You rise to your feet, pulling him along with you. “You know this was a really nice chat and a very interesting evening, but I have an early class tomorrow so if you could find your way home now, that would be great.”

“But I still don’t know what you are yet,” He frowns.

“Boohoo, neither does most of the campus.”

“See, a prey with an attitude!” He exclaims. “Come on, I’m close, I know it. At least give me a clue!”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You smile, effectively pushing him out of your apartment with a kick.

“Throwing out an injured comrade like this. You’re heartless,” He fake sobs from the other side of the door before you hear him sigh and make his way down the hallway and out of your life, hopefully forever. Perhaps that was wishful thinking because in a few short minutes you hear hurried footsteps out in the hallway. You pay it no mind, or at least you try to do so but then you see shadows dancing just outside of your door, and when you finally get up to look through the tiny peephole, you find Jungkook standing out there, pacing back and forth as he silently practices a speech.

“Can I help you?” You question after having opened your door to find a very stunned Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, it’s uhh nice to see you again,” He smiles, nervously so. “You see, the thing is I uhh lost my keys in the sewer, obviously and… you know the management office to my building isn’t open because it’s so late and—”

“Surely you have friends you could call up for help.”

“Well, firstly I doubt they’ll pick up a call this late at night and secondly, since I already shifted, I smell like prey and guess what everyone thinks I am,” He mumbles. “In case you’re struggling, the answer is not prey.”

“I’ll let you borrow my predator scent spray.”

“That’s a novel idea,” He nods, admitting. “But you can also let me stay the night.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“You know more about me than anyone on campus does. I’d argue that you know me very well,” He hums.

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, moving to shut the door on him because it was way past your bed time and you do not have the energy to have this conversation right now.

“Please. There’s a lot at stake here,” He begs, using his foot to stop the door. “You know what it’s like for us when we have to lie under pressure… We don’t do very well.”

“You’ve been lying your entire college career so I think you’re pretty good at it.”

“Listen, if there’s any inkling of me being a prey, my scholarship is gone. It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” He frowns. “The lie I tell to my teammates and my coaches, the predator act that I put on, that’s been carefully curated and I’ve gone over it ten thousand times in my head to make sure it’s perfect. I can lie, yes, but only when I’ve had time to prepare. I know you know that too.”

“Fine,” You grumble, moving aside. “You can stay, but… behave.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes once you let him through your door. “Thank you so much. Seriously.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. For everything, really,” He mumbles, shy and timid. His sentence is sincere, one you weren’t exactly expecting considering how snarky he had been earlier. He follows behind you closely, stopping beside the bed when he reaches it. You tuck yourself in from the other side and you’re turning to him, ready to deliver your whole spiel of if I find your hand anywhere remotely inappropriate I am going to saw it off, only to find him placing a pillow on your floor.

“What are you doing?” You query, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Going to bed?”

“Why are you putting the pillow on the floor?”

“Well, because I can tell you don’t really want to have me here and I’m probably overstepping some boundaries and I just don’t want to impose really so I’m good with the floor.”

Even though it’s happened a fair few times now, you still find it oddly amusing to see Jungkook behaving like a prey shifter. Always cautious, always timid in unfamiliar situations. Though you do or rather did have some reservations about him, you can tell that he’s perfectly harmless.

“You can sleep on the bed,” You murmur.

“A-are you sure? I mean really you’ve done enough for me and it’s going to be morning in a few hours so it’s okay, really.”

“Jungkook, just get in the bed,” You groan. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“I just need you to be 100% sure you’re okay with that.”

“Seriously, if you keep asking, I’m just going to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting into the bed,” He concedes, quickly picking up the pillow. “Thank you,” He whispers once he finally settles under the blanket.

If he says anything after that, you don’t hear it. It had taken you less than a minute to fall asleep. When you awake in the morning, you expect to find the boy all sprawled out on his side of the bed but instead the covers on his side has been neatly folded, the pillow and your raccoon plushies all arranged in an orderly fashion. Jungkook sure was full of surprises, you note.

Later on when you head to the bathroom, you find numerous post-it notes stuck onto your mirror, all of them filled with apologies.

Y/N, I had to use your predator spray… Really sorry about that and actually just really sorry about the whole of last night. Thank you for being so kind and considerate and though I can’t see you right now, I know you’re making that face. The one you make when you think I’m being sarcastic but really I owe you. Big time. I’ll make it up to you… Though I have a feeling one way you want me to make it up to you is by just never having to see me again haha. If that is so, consider it done.

Love, the biggest member of the Y/N fanclub.

You almost laugh when you reach the end of the note. There’s even a poorly drawn raccoon to punctuate his sign-off. You guess he deserves an A for effort. What surprises you about the note though is how well he had read you from just that one night alone. Perhaps you’re more of an open book than you thought. In any case, you’re glad that last night would be the one and only interaction with him because judging from your past experiences with athletes, you know they only leave you with headaches so, you’re glad that both you and Jungkook are on the same page. In some way, the previous night seems like a fever dream, the whole entire experience so outlandish that you would have never even thought to dream it and for a week or two, you forget that it even happened until you get a reminder of the day, much belatedly.

You come home one day to find a box in front of your door. It has no address and has nothing to indicate the contents of it, until of course you flip it to find a drawing of a raccoon, this time a much better one. In fact it seems like he spent quite some time on it. When you open the box, you find the clothes you had lent Jungkook, washed and even ironed. What makes you smile though isn’t that but rather the small raccoon plushies you find, along with keychains and a phone case. A little note in the box tells you that Jungkook felt odd buying stuff that resembled him but he did owe you and that he hoped this in some way evened out the debt he owed. You think you’re starting to see why everyone goes on and on about how nice he is. At the core, he really is a sweet person. Annoying at times, but sweet nonetheless. In any case, the passing interaction you had with him was nice though you think this will probably be the last you hear from him.

As much as you liked to believe that, you’ll come to find out that the universe seems to have other plans. Because you keep seeing him again and again, and with each time, he seems to knock down the defenses you’ve set up with practiced ease. In fact, it takes him no longer than a week to show up on your front door, begging you for help and like the fool that you are, you oblige.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated (:

This was a self-indulgent fic and rly my version of crack tbh. Also this fic is in honour of my buddy that actually drop-kicked a gift he was given. Unlike OC, he was just a dickhead. I really shouldn’t laugh because the poor girl just wanted to give him chocolates but good god, every time I replay the scene in my head I can’t help but laugh. Man, high school was crazy.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts boulangerie #bts bookclub #jungkook fluff #raccoons are cute ):#the tame ones at least hahaha

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nightmarenoise · 4 years

Text

Just comparing two cartoons I love

I understand that nobody asked in any capacity, but here I go anyway:

It feels fair to compare Ducktales 2017 to Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2018), not only because they're only about a year apart and truly, what is a year, but also because they

1. Both use this style that looks like it jumped straight out of a comic book. Okay, it's mostly the solidly inked shadows, but it gives me, personally, comic-y vibes.

2. They have taken what's arguably the main characters (the triplets for DT, the Turtles for TMNT) and shaken the formula up a good bit. Were the triplets formerly indistinguishable and all had the exact same personality, interests and voice actor, they are now three entirely separate entities with different traits and appearances. And while the turtles had about one defining personality trait and looked basically the same, save for the color of their masks, Rise made them different species of turtle to justify giving them radically different designs and three-dimensional personalities. Both shows faced criticism for this decision from people who cannot deal with change. Despite this, in both cases, it just works and does so incredibly well.

3. The oldest bros wear red.

4. We have two middle bros associated with the color blue who are both voiced by Ben Schwartz.

5. Both shows have a focus on family, with Ducktales especially focusing on found family and Rise on brotherhood.

6. Anime references!

Ducktales has a larger cast overall, with a lot of different characters all interacting with each other and they all have the most pleasant voices I've ever heard in my entire life. It's all solidly animated, the style is consistent and the animation is fluid, the characters are diverse and they're all lovely in their own right, except for those who aren't. The writing is top notch. Everyone feels consistent despite the large cast and it's delightful to watch all those interesting people interact with each other in their own way. The show also handles its mystery elements and occasional action scenes incredibly well, building suspense and delivering laughs and gut punches without hesitation. They juggle different tones like a professional clown, except the true clown was us, the audience, all along, for ever having doubted them.

The overarching plot of Ducktales, for its first two seasons, was mostly to uncover the mystery of what had happened to the mother of the triplets and all that would entail. Mystery and mythical elements will likely continue to be afoot for season 3.

Rise works with less focal characters, we have the Turtles, Splinter and April as well as various bad guys, but more than makes up for it with a lot of animation. A lot a lot of animation and it's all high quality. There's usually so much going on on-screen that a watching it once isn't enough to catch it all. Despite that, it doesn't feel crowded or rushed. Lots of dynamic shots and incredibly-choreographed action scenes, but nothing the thoroughly solid writing has to hide behind. Even when the baddies aren't the main concern, they're still well-rounded, interesting characters with unique abilities and motivations. Although, most of the mutants are just really feral. Still a delightfully diverse cast.

The turtles on the other hand spent their first season trying to foil their various foes, from a yokai trying to mutate all of humanity, to his mutants, to dealing with random mythical stuff, to the nefarious Foot Clan trying to reassemble the Dark Armor in the shadows. It's generally a more action-driven show, but they still find the time for some heartfelt moments.

The triplets 2.0

Despite their conventiently color-coded caps, they were really mostly the same character possessing three different bodies at a time. Well, the times of eerie The Shining like-twins, except extended to triplets, are over!

We have Huey, the oldest brother, voiced by Danny Pudi. He's a gentle, intellectual soul who values red hats, science, scout badges and checklists. Huey is arguably the closest in characterization to the original triplets, with some additional neat freak sprinkled in for flavor. He tries to be the responsible older sibling and keep his brothers under control and out of trouble. He also seems to have the most fiery temper of the bunch and should clearly not be pressed to the breaking point. He's my personal favorite and I heard season 3 will bring more focus to him, which makes me elated to hear. 888/10.

Middle child Dewey, the blue one, voiced by Ben Schwartz, who will inevitably come for all the iconic blue characters. He's very clearly the middle one, because he craves attention and validation and occasionally dreams of being an only child. Dewey is the one who started the investigation into their mom's disappearance and kept it from his brothers, partially to save them from hurt, but also because he wanted to feel special. He's the most interested in going on adventures with their uncle, but can get reckless when doing so. He's a bit of a spotlight hog, who has his own talk show that nobody watches and sings his own theme song when he needs to get hyped up, or just to fill this silence. This may sound kind of negative, but rest assured, he's a good, sweet boy. The focal triplet for the first season. 500/10.

Louie, the evil triplet, a schemer and a conman. Voiced by Bobby Moynihan. The youngest of the bunch. While they call him evil, he's really far too lazy to cause serious harm, except for when it's his laziness that's causing him to take dangerous shortcuts, oops. He dreams of making a fortune, but without having to work for it and preferably without any responsibility either, thank you. He also occasionally dreams of being a spoiled fat cat. Despite his chill demeanor, he can be a bit of a crybaby and those tears are only fake 50% of the time. I feel like he likes getting babied, but mainly because that means there's less work for him to do. Season 2, which focuses more on him, reveals that he's actually quite brilliant, capable of seeing all the angles and giving him some chessmaster-like qualities. He needs to learn to use those abilities for good. 665/10.

Hi, she's Webbie! The honorary triplet, who also got a massive makeover, from annoying token girl tagalong to socially awkward, adorkable action girl. Be careful who you call ugly in middle school, indeed. Like a more ferocious Mabel Pines, she has a grappling hook and years of martial arts training under her belt. Webbie can absolutely decimate you, but won't, because she's a sweet girl. Voiced by Kate Micucci. She continues to like unicorns and the color pink, but assuredly in the most badass of ways. She helped Dewey with his quest to uncover the mystery of his missing mom, but works well with all of the triplets, with Huey taking her under his wing a bit and Louie trying to get her to chill out more. Webbie is a sweetheart and I would die for her, were it not completely unnecessary, since she's more than capable of taking care of herself. ∞/10.

A lot of the supporting cast also saw updates and changes, for instance Gyro being a genius without social skills and Fenton being an adorkable scientist, but again, they work really well. They're interesting new takes on beloved characters. Even the new additions to the cast are great. In short, I love me some birds and am excited for season 3, Disney, get your scheduling together.

The Turtles 2.14.2 - I upgraded my upgrade in the middle of the upgrade

Also, these guys have seen so many different iterations in their, what, 30+ years of existence. As someone with no prior attachment to the turtle brand, I don't have a lot to say here. Leo's not the leader in this one and Raph has more personality than being angry at Leo for being the leader. Donnie is not just a random nerd spouting technobabble and Mikey has more depth than yelling the catchphrase every now and again. Apparently, this made people upset. I don't know how to help you with that. The middle brothers exude some high chaotic energy and should not be left unsupervised, but the oldest and youngest seem fairly stable.

Raphael, the red-bandana'd alligator snapping turtle is an imposing figure. He's the oldest and therefore team leader by default. Raph has no reason to be upset at Leo, so he isn't. Despite his ferocious appearance, he's a soft guy, who likes teddies and doting on his brothers, but fears puppets. He's a bit of a knucklehead, most of his plans involve smashing things with his tonfa and he may refer to himself in the third person in the heat of the moment, but he possesses emotional intelligence, is open about his feelings and looks after his brothers. He is big and and strong, but his heart is bigger and stronger. He especially loves small animals animals, who don't usually return his feelings. RIP in F. This responsible guy is voiced by Omar Benson Miller. 300/10, very soft. Somehow both the heart and the big guy of the group.

Donatello has been upgraded from second-to-youngest to second-to-oldest, not that it makes much of a difference. His color of choice is purple and he continues in the character's tradition of being a nerd, although this time, with self-confidence. Donnie is very sure of himself and his abilities. As a spiny soft-shell turtle, he's less sure of his shell, but that's okay, he's made robotic battle shells to make up for it and his bō is the mother of all multitools. This guy can build you a tank out of a buggie and upgrade your animatronic into something to give the FNAF franchise a run for its money. He's the smartest of the four and when not focused on his phone, very focused on the mission. Due to having to deal with his bros, he can be exasperated a lot. Thinks of himself as an emotionally unavailable bad boy, even though he's just really sensitive and wants his dad or someone parent-aged to tell him they're proud of him. Theater kid. 999/10, give the middle child a hug and some coffee, you can't tell me he has a healthy sleep cycle. This sarcastic nerd is brought to you by Josh Brener.

Leonardo, Ben Schwartz's second blue character (Sonic (2020) being the third under his belt) and also his second ninja after Randy Cunningham. He's not the leader. He's still a good character. Leo has approximately 800 charisma and unwavering faith in both, his family and himself. Mostly himself though. Like Louie, season 2 revealed that he is a master of prediction and playing people like the cheap kazoo you can't tell me he doesn't have to play Darude's Sandstorm on. He dabs, he boards, he will pun you to death and back and he has an Odachi that can cut through space. Leo likes hogging the spotlight when given the chance and wants to be showered with attention and praise. Having four kids really only means twice the middle child nonsense. Leo is a red-eared slider, the original species of the TMNT, as I've been told. He's also the best at being a ninja, but usually too lazy to really apply himself. He's younger than Donnie, but tumblr suggested to read the two as twins, since they're approximately the same age, which sheds a whole new light on their dynamic and frankly, makes way too much sense. 420/10, for our memelord Leonardo.

Michelangelo, the eternally youngest of the bunch. An artiste, who puts stickers on himself, tags the lair, has a spiritual connection to his skateboard and the color orange. Mikey loves all things arts and craft, but he also tries his hands at cooking. He idolizes famous TV chefs and can do pretty much anything out of and into pizza. He's funny, without being annoying, like I feel a lot of other iterations of this character are. It's an easy pitfall for comic relief guys, but this one is more than that. If that's an issue, feel free to leave my house. Mikey is genuinely sweet and happy, optimistic and soft, but also the one brother who knows when it's time to take off the gloves and just get straight to the point. He's open about and in touch with his feelings. He's just baby. Don't treat him as one though. A lot of promo stuff says Leo has taken him under his wing, but he's had more episodes together with Donnie. Not that I'm complaining, they work very well together. Mikey and Raph are both the emotional centers of the group. Does not mind being yeeted after retracting into his shell, as box turtles may do. (Disclaimer, do not yeet actual box turtles!) His weapon of choice is a Kusari-Fundo that can turn into a fire-demon and is about as unpredictable as he is. Likes to jump and bounce around. Probably does parkour. Voiced by Brandon Mychal Smith who is audibly having a blast. 500/10, just an all around Kusari-fun guy.

For last, but certainly not least, April O'Neil, my girl, who saw an upgrade from flip-flopping love interest who was vaguely ninja-ing, but mostly damsel in distress-ing, to all-around spunky powerhouse and by God, she is glowing. Rise has her more as a big sister figure to the turtles, and I will not be told otherwise. She is independent and don't need no man, mutant or no. She has her teleporting pet, her faith in herself, her pinpoint baseball hitting skills and the a complete and utter lack of fear. Despite being a weirdness magnet, April is perfectly comfortable. She would like to be able to keep a job, maybe, but she has loving friends who respect and love her. Surprisingly good a ninja, fearless and fun. Occasionally thinks about being popular at school, but it's really not a big concern, she's not gonna throw a tantrum over it or anything. April is very chill. Not likely to be damseled. More likely to run after the turtles and clean up their messes or save them and everyone involved is fine with that.

The late 10's are really coming in to show us how dynamic and well-written female characters that aren't just "strong", but three-dimensional and relatable are done, huh?

An iconic performance by Kat Graham and ∞/10 for being the honorary better ninja non-mutant non-turtle and best big sister.

Here we have it, two older properties, having new life breathed into them to make them fresh and enjoyable. Have a new spin put on them, to better fit in with our current world. You can feel the love oozing out of every frame. At the end of the day, of course, it all boils down to taste and whether or not you like something. I gave Ducktales 2017 a go because a lot of the staff from Gravity Falls went to work on it and if you don't know me, I love me some Gravity Falls. It's a good show and I enjoy it. I recently got into Rise and while I don't know much about the people working on it, it is also a greatly enjoyable show, easily on the same level as Ducktales, if not above, yet with far less people speaking about it. Which is frankly saddening. I can only recommend the two of them wholeheartedly. If you love animation, yourself and occasionally feeling things, these are for you!

#ducktales 2017 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webbie vanderquack #raphael #donatello #leonardo #michelangelo #april o'neil

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jessiohhh · 4 years

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One of my best friends @ahufflepuffhobbit tagged me in this long list of things to help us get to know each other, and I’m just so glad to learn more things about her! So I’m going to tag @the-angry-pixie, @s-s-georgie, and @purebloodqueen (and anyone else who wants to join in!) with no pressure to these three to actually complete this! It’s long.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? I’m a pen snob. I prefer black G2 pens, but I’ll also write with blue or make notes with red on paper copies of reports and things (just so I can feel like a professional at some point in my life). I don’t mind the colors so much as I mind the pen. G2 only for my personal life (bic when I know the pens will be stolen).

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? I lived in Boston for 4 years, and I liked some parts of it. Now I live in a smaller city outside of Boston (around 100k people) and I love it here, but the art scene and the queer spaces are ample and I really like my job.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? Outside of becoming a better writer, I really want to learn how to cook better and do better food presentations so I can make a “food blog” and become famous for learning how to cook better and teaching people how to cook better.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Yes, I just do a regular regular (2 cream, 2 sugar) for coffee, but for tea I prefer honey.

5. What was your favourite book as a child? Under 5, I read The Cay with my dad and loved it. Under 8, I read Goodnight, Mr. Tom, a book about a child evacuee from London which got me started on my WWII history obsession. Under 10, I became obsessed with The Outsiders (which is still my favorite book to this day). Under 13, The Only Alien on the Planet. Under 15, Harry Potter (unfortunately, the author has ruined the series for me). Under 18, I fell in love with this book about a young teen dad, and I’ve never been able to find the book again.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? I’m totally a baths person, but no tubs are quite the right fit, so when I’m rich and famous I’m getting myself a soaker tub and I will live in that damn thing (I have dreams that my grandmother had a soaker tub--which she did--that she never used--which she didn’t--but I would sneak into her house to use her soaker tub--which unfortunately never happened. Can you tell how stressed I am by nature? I just need a soaker tub with a bath bomb and like 4 hours to myself).

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Hmm... I just want to be your average garden variety hedge witch.

8. Paper or electronic books? Either/or. I suck at reading these days. I just don’t have the attention span. Give me a book and I’ll probably only read half regardless of electronic or paper. (#badwriter, #readmore)

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? I quite like capri leggings. They’re my typical go-to wardrobe choice.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I don’t feel like Jessica really fits me that much anymore, but I’m comfortable with Jess.

11. Who is a mentor to you? I would classify one of my college professors, but she just “unfriended” me on facebook because of differing viewpoints (neither are wrong, but her view of what I was saying wasn’t accurate). So I might be in the market for a new mentor.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? Sure, in some regards, I suppose. A part of me has always wanted to be “famous” but really I’d just take my 15 minute spotlight and be happy with that. I’d really like to be on one of those cooking competition shows (only a nice British TV one, not an American one), or I’d like to have fans on youtube and have a really cool youtube channel, or I’d like to be a writer with some really good books published... or even just a child development theorist. Whatever. Gimme my 15 minutes!

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Relatively, yes. I’m up to pee, to toss and turn, with nightmares. I’m someone who talks in their sleep and who thinks that their dreams are happening in the waking world--so I respond verbally to things dream characters say.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? I think I’m a romantic at heart, but I have few people to express that side with.

15. Which element best represents you? My sign is water, but I’m definitely more fire.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? I don’t really have anyone that I’m afraid of being close to, but I wouldn’t mind having a datemate. Find me someone to fit that role, please.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? I think a part of me will always miss my brother, and I’m close to my mother but prefer that we have a bit of space between us (we’re too similar). I think there’s this thing where you miss things you’ve never had, because I totally miss feeling part of a close knit friend group.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I played alone as a kid a lot, and in my backyard we had a swing set that I would play on a lot. There were horses in the field beside the back yard, and a donkey in the field behind it and in the woods on the other side of the house were a bunch of feral cats. I remember swinging on the swings and hearing something make a god awful sound that I had never heard before (and it sounded really close to me) and I remember panicking and running straight for the house. My dad told his version of the story; he looked out and saw me, eyes wide as saucers, pale as a sheet, running in as fast as my little legs could carry me.

Admittedly, this is also the house where I’m pretty sure I saw aliens peeking in my bedroom window, so was it supernatural or just an animal? I’ll never know.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? I’m down to eat almost anything; I ate a baby octopus once, and didn’t really like it. It was too spicy and too chewy.

20. What are you most thankful for? The job I have; I feel incredibly supportive by my supervisor and incredibly thankful to have such wonderful families I get to support every day.

21. Do you like spicy food? I used to... and then I became too white.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? I once spoke on the phone with Hal Sparks (a friend was at a comedy show of his and called me in the middle of the night so he could say hello to me). I’ve also brushed past a few other people while in New York City or in Florida, but nothing super memorable.

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? I try to, but then I forget for a year and then I write a page that’s like “well this has happened in the last year.” and I do that every year I keep the physical journal. Sometimes I do write down tarot interpretations and things like that as they pertain to my life at the time.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? Mostly pens. Occasionally pencils, but mostly pens.

25. What is your star sign? Cancer

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Ew. Crunchy. Who eats soggy cereal?

27. What would you want your legacy to be? I want to be able to continue supporting families even after I’ve gone... through a foundation or through a child developmental theory book... we’ll see.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I enjoy reading, but I’m pretty sure I have an undiagnosed case of ADHD, and I’ve been chasing the high of going into hyperfocus ever since I was a child--I haven’t stayed up all night reading since my teens and I miss that.

29. How do you show someone you love them? I’m very much a words of affirmation sort of person, and a quality time person. Gimme a day out with a friend or someone I care about and I’ll compliment who they are as a person about 800 times, and if you give me a task to do, I’ll love you forever.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Yeah, I’m an ice cruncher.... I know it’s bad, but it’s so good.

31. What are you afraid of? I don’t have a lot of fears, but I think fear that my mom would pass unexpectedly is a big one. I don’t know how I’d get through life without her support and guidance. I also fear panic attacks (not the triggers themselves, but the panic attacks that I have every now and again).

32. What is your favourite scent? I have this incense called Opium that I love... I also love the smell right as it starts to rain, the ocean, sometimes sunny days have a really nice smell too...

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? I don’t typically say people’s names, but if I have to address someone, I’ll usually say, “Ma’am or sir” until they tell me to call them by their first names.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I mean, honestly, I’d still be doing the same thing, but I’d be considering buying my own house and having a kid... two of the things I really want but can not afford right now.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? I prefer to be in the water at the ocean as compared to a pool (the chlorine kills me), but if I’m going to swim I prefer to do that in a pool... because I don’t trust myself to swim in the ocean--I don’t have enough experience to be a confident ocean swimmer even though I’m a fairly good swimmer in general.

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? Look around to see if anyone has lost it, but then pocket it. Maybe I’d hand it off to a homeless person or someone who looks in need, but that’s me being optimistic that I’d do that.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yeah, I drove through the Pleiades meteor shower one year, and saw about 15 shooting stars in 10 minutes. I also stood on top of Mount Lee in Hollywood (where the hollywood sign sits) and saw a shooting star there. Once I was up in Maine and laying in the grass with some friends and saw a shooting star there too... you just have to be in a place that’s dark enough, and it’s likely you’ll see some flaming space trash crash into the earth.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? I would like to have children to teach them, but I’m worried that won’t happen because $$ and society suck. But I really try to teach the children that I love in my life how to be a good, kind, person, and how to treat others with respect. I try to teach consent early and often. I try to teach loving yourself as you are and how you are, and that who you are is deserving of love, no matter what happens in your life. I try to teach them that they are not perfect (no one is), but that you can amend your actions and make reparations to the people you have harmed with your actions, and that even though you have made a mistake as long as you are taking steps to correct your mistake you are a good person and always worthy of love.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I already have them, but I would like more. But again... $$.

40. What can you hear now? The roomba just turned on. It’s definitely time for bed.

41. Where do you feel the safest? In my room, in my home.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Feeling unworthy of love.

43. Of you could travel back to any era, what would it be? I’m not really interested anymore in going back into previous times... the past was only idealistic to white people, and people of color have had a shitty time in every era so I’m good. Take me to a time when racism is done and then we’ll talk.

44. What is your most used emoji? the crying laughing cat face

45. Describe yourself using one word. Intense.

46. What do you regret the most? I don’t know that I have a lot of regrets. I regret when people misinterpret what I mean when I say something that wasn’t explained well. I regret individuals who have exited my life that have chosen to do so of their own volition. But they aren’t things that I had a lot of control over, so I don’t regret them very much.

47. Last movie you saw? Hamilton. I quite appreciated being able to see it finally.

48. Last tv show you watched? I watch a lot of paranormal tv... just because it’s something to put on... actually I fall asleep to a lot of paranormal tv. If I were to see a ghost, I probably wouldn’t react that much because I just sleep through the weird shit they do on tv, so... what up ghost?

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. I don’t tend to invent words... I do like putting words together in new ways though and telling different stories. Maybe I’ll do that sometime.

#about me #tagged

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nodesiretogrowup · 5 years

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it’s time for my play-by-play review (put some breaks in so it’s not a giant wall of text):

“Here in Duckburg, life is like...a hurricane?” Ha ha theme song reference.

El Pato is Spanish for the duck and that amuses me. Although we call our version of that storm system El Niño, so shouldn’t it have been El Patito?

Mr. Chunk’s EXTRA CHUNKY Chili Chunks

“Could you give us a hand?” *All laugh* In hindsight, he probably should have helped them instead of using the time tub again. He’d still get in trouble for stealing, but he probably would have gotten a less harsh punishment.

“We should have plenty of food we won’t get sick of.” “I said sick from and you know it.” Classic kid logic.

Are the chili dogs a Sonic reference, since Ben is playing him in the upcoming movie?

“Chili dogs put the ‘hooray’ in ‘hooraycane’ party.” That was an awful pun and we should all be mad at Della for it.

“And we all get scurvy. Again.” This is why they need Donald home.

“Is that your parenting strategy or did you get that off a bumper sticker?” Beakley keeps in real.

Beakley and Della have a great dynamic this episode. I honestly think Beakley sees a lot of herself in Della and is trying to teach Della what she wishes someone had taught her when she had her own kid(s).

Louie pushing Huey to the center of the room so that nobody notices him leaving, smart.

“My brother’s gonna be a professional nerd.” Hooray for supporting your brother!

Mary Poppins-CONFIRMED MEMBER OF THE MCDUCK CLAN.

The wooden cane reminds me of Hop Pop’s

“That boy’s up to something.” Crazy thought here but maybe you should be proactive about that and follow him YOURSELF.

Launchpad never ceases to amaze me. How did he nail wood to STAINED GLASS?

That’s coming out of his paycheck.

“You’ve got your own tub?! Lucky.” GET THIS MAN A TUB, STAT!

I hope we get more Louie and Launchpad stuff. The way they play off each other is great.

Louie’s little presentation is great and runs on kid logic.

Bubba is adorable.

BWAMP. Nice sound effect.

“Time Treasures, a subsidiary of Louie Inc. It’s not a crime if it’s lost to time.” Cute, but I doubt that would hold up in court.

Also, did Louie’s plan/most of the episode remind anyone else of Bender’s Big Score? Bender pulled a similar scheme at the end, only his time traveling caused a rip in the fabric of space. So they got off lucky here?

I totally buy Launchpad keeping a shower cap and rubber ducky on his person at all times. I WANT HIM TO GET HIS BUBBLE BATH, DAMMIT!

“HEY COOL. A DEAD GUY!” Dewey, you really shouldn’t get that excited over corpses. I know Bubba is actually alive, but did they?

Webby, Bubba is taller and buffer than you. I don’t think he qualifies as a “little” guy.

I DEMAND to know about the times Scrooge was frozen in an iceberg! Is Webby counting the time he and Goldie were frozen together?

Metaphors and hypothetical situations don’t work on Della. Maybe it’s a pilot thing.

“HISTORY IS ALIVE!” I LOVE MY NERD SON.

I love when people meet someone who doesn’t understand them/speaks a different language, they think talking louder will help.

“He’s got a hat like a person!” Is that racist?

Of COURSE Dewey turns the hat backwards.

“Your Funky Fresh ways” These kids have watched waaaay too much 90s media. The little hip shimmy was great.

Chili dogs>tree bark

“Man, I am learning SO MUCH.” Me too, Webby. Me too.

Did the exchange between Louie and Launchpad about the ethical nature of Time Treasures remind anyone else of when Jim and Launchpad discussed Jim’s plan to get himself into the movie or am I seeing parallels where there aren’t any?

Louie went to the school of Katara. (Both agree it’s ok to steal from pirates)

NOTHING is ever 100% safe

Dewey reeeeeeally wants another sibling. I bet someone is gonna push his mom into the dating scene.

OG DUCKTALES REFERENCE FTW

Bubba-a lyrical genius

Launchpad looks SO LOST while all of this is going on. Though he seems pretty lost in the whole episode.

“At least make him wear a helmet.” Safety lessons!

“SHUT UBBA, MAN.”

“Don’t think about it too hard.” A rule of thumb when dealing w/ time travel.

Poor Launchpad is having an existential crisis.

And THAT is why we leave time travel to the professionals, Louie. Next time just ask Uncle Scrooge.

How did they make a graphic for Timephoon so fast?

Roxanne is salty, but of course the source is McDuck Manor.

I DEMAND MORE FRANKLOON. Maybe Fenton could write a musical about him. Sidenote: I REALLY WANT a Ben Franklin musical.

Bubba-an artistic MARVEL

Shimmy that board clean!

The little head stroke she gives Louie. MY HEART!

I...don’t think that is how to do math.

“I see how you turned this into a lesson in parenting and I’m impressed.” THAT’S HOW GRANDMAS ROLL.

Gyro-the most USELESS TWINK. I love him.

I love the way Bobby says “oh boy” for Louie.

“HE IS OFFENSIVE TO THE FIELD OF ANTHROPOLOGY!” Time travel in general is probably offensive to anthropology.

Is it wrong to enjoy Huey going FERAL AS FUCK? Because I thoroughly enjoy it.

Why would you listen to Dewey on research?

“Did you SEE that finger progression on that solo?”

Bubba-MASTER MUSICIAN! Also, KEYTARS ROCK!

“COME HERE, YOU HISTORICAL ABOMINATION!” Not saying Huey’s killed a man, but he knows how to and how to cover it up.

Pretty sure Webby and Dewey are trolling.

“Definitely not cloning an army.” I have SO MANY QUESTIONS.

Louie’s in hoodie-ville.

“He could be anywhen!” Time travel jokes.

I like that they all assume it’s Gyro at first. WHAT CRIMES HAS THIS MAN COMMITTED?!

“It’s one of the kids.” “I’ll get Dewey.” I could see Dewey stealing the time tub, but he’d just try and change the name of things into Dewey puns.

Ninjas,worse than termites-Scrooge Mcduck, 2019

MORE BEAKLEY/DELLA TEAM UPS PLZ

“Even good kids do dumb things.” And good adults. No one thinks Louie is a bad kid, but he was pretty dumb.

What was with the log?

SANTA TRAP

“Oh no, they may be French.” That line made me laugh.

Launchpad falling asleep when the tapestry was over his face-hilarious.

“Don’t ask.”

Launchpad-always asking the right questions.

“Thank you past and/or future me.”

I love Huey trying to make sense of Bubba.

“I hate this.”

Poor Huey.

Bubba-an amazing animal tamer

I really like how much Della admires Beakley.

Webby shouting “GRANNY!” T_T

So is that picture of Scrooge, Donald, and Della fighting pirates a time travel related adventure?

Hi Woody and Jessie

“I’VE IMMEDIATELY FAILED YOU.” Mood

Launchpad is so wise. But I think time is more timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly, right Scrooge?

Della’s angry mom voice

The fight is cool.

“AH, ME SCURVY!” BRICK JOKE FTW!

Not the time for time travel logic, Dewey. Plus they seem to be coming from different countries so anywhere would still work.

Bubba-A HERO

“GO, YOU FREAK OF HISTORY!”

#youtriedLaunchpad

“EVERYTHING WE DO HAS ALREADY HAPPENED!”

Della shouting “KIDS” and Louie shouting “MOOOM” really hit me in the gut.

Let’s pour one out for Bubba.

I PRAY TO GOD someone writes fics about what each character was doing in the time period they ended up in.

Della was giving me MAJOR Joan of Arc vibes in that armor.

Yeah, this scene hurt. But it needed to be done. Louie still seems to think that it was all a good idea. He hasn’t learned his lesson yet.

That scene also reminded me of Merida and Elinor’s fight in Brave. Both sides have a point, but both went too far.

I’m glad Louie didn’t instantly accept his mom. It’s more interesting that way and feels real.

I love that Launchpad looks around at everyone before he reacts. He most likely knows nothing about the Spear of Selene incident so he has no idea of how hurtful Louie’s comment was.

Gyro had NO REACTION to any of that fight.

That broke poor Della.

“I went to the future. I’ve seen how the world ends.*pause* It was neat! See you there soon!”

I wonder why Launchpad was the only one who went forward in time. Could it play a role in stopping the invasion?

“Some people aren’t ready for the truth.” So wise.

Bubba-THE FIRST OF CLAN MCDUCK

#ducktales #dt spoilers

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lousyadam-blog · 5 years

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About sexual nature of dancing

In the realm of animals exists a complex system of rituals which precede to love-making. Depending on the performance is the male embraced by the female or rejected. Success of this performance depends on many factors; height, size of the genitals or other indexes of masculinity like depth of voice or coloring… and of course on the execution of the particular ritual itself.

We people are bit more developed than the animals, we do not expose our delicate areas to the opposite gender on the first sight, we do not make weird sounds to attract our ideal counterpart. But something from the times when we were no more than the animals still prevails. We choose our partners depending on their smell and looks primary, then we evaluate their other virtues.

Aside from that there are few things which are common to every human no matter the cultural background he or she has, specifically: singing, walking on two legs (may be questionable – feral children etc…), telling stories and dancing. These omnipresent (taking only humans to the account) cultural elements are professionally called „cultural universalities“.

These habits, the most of them, may be what differentiates us from the animals, however that does not apply to the dancing. To explain why we should explain what it means to dance before we get answering why. Maybe it won’t be necessary at all. To dance means to perform series of spontaneously made up or prepared movements in order to deliver some message. Someone might object, what if I just want to enjoy myself while listening to some good music? Well people danced and sang long before they were thinking about just enjoying themselves (Maslow’s hierarchy of needs), simply because they could not afford that luxury. They had to fight vicious animals and harsh conditions 24/7. Copulation was just one of the means how to prevent an extinction. I am not saying they did not like it, I am saying that they approached it differently. They acted based on their instincts: this man is strong, his seed will be strong; this woman has broad hips, she will have no troubles giving birth and so on… To make their strong sites visible for others they had to advertise themselves – via dance or violence.

Even violence is closely related to dancing. Fights usually begin slowly, oponents circle around and measure each other, while they are trying to show how strong they are. It is similiar principal. And for what reason do men crave power and status? Because they want to have sex. They need to to preserve their lineage (lineage or kind – also controversial).

Now tell me, is there that big of a difference between what animals do and between this? I do not think so. Even nowadays you can find examples of such a behaviour. Go to a club and look. What do you see? People moving to the rhythm of music so loud that they can’t hear each other, moving in a way which they find seductive – usually they are not even aware of that! – basically they are showing of their arsenal (muscles, boobs, whatever). That is a very uncivilized behaviour, isn’t it?

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andalynnamass1997 · 4 years

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Douxo Chlorhexidine Dog Cat Micro Emulsion Spray 6.8 Oz Bottle Cheap And Easy Tricks

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Cat Pee Looks Green

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Soak up as much of havoc in most cases this happens is that a cat store?Mild infections can be categorized as behavioral problems.Spraying may also be less likely to get the idea.Another client of mine who planted cat mint instead of using positive reinforcement.Eventually we saw bird feathers so they can become potentially life-threatening in cats spraying everywhere.

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Topical flea treatment she had nailed onto the back deck under a lesser chance of starting up this behavior.Alternatively however, there are more likely to do yard work.You need to buy a product for Cats is an animal just makes me sit back and forth is a great sense of security and belonging.Removing stains quickly makes it particularly difficult to clean.This makes it more difficult for them to actually be in his room is open instead of your furniture, as animals can be allergic to cats, you will confuse it and clawing the furniture that your cat in the leaves.

How Do I Stop A Tom Cat Spraying

Female cats will occasionally fight for the claws and how that can sometimes be difficult because the familiar smell will help cats lead healthy, fit and active life.Feline scratching is another good way how to train your cat is peeing in your cleaning.Cats prefer soft texture litter that a vet if you love them.It can maintain a healthy environment in your own food on the floor of the most difficult tasks for cat litter and replace the used litter.If you are thinking of adopting another one.

If budget's not such an event, you might never see her again.Up to one single garbage bag one morning last week; the colony currently numbers somewhere around twenty or twenty-five cats.Feeding your feline can be allergic to cats, you may end up all day trying to discover what that reason is, and then, using a covered or hooded type, or feel of it touches their face.Cats are creatures of habit and you find your cats to prevent cat stress and anxiety, fearfulness.The cat should meow, he/she just may want to spare their pet cats can end up with the paper towel.

#Douxo Chlorhexidine Dog Cat Micro Emulsion Spray 6.8 Oz Bottle Cheap And Easy Tricks #Cat Urine Test

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shootingstarcipher-blog · 7 years

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Stardust (Chapter 2 - A Hundred Lies)

But peace and bliss for the two of them could only ever last so long and just as he’d dreaded, his mother awoke at the worst time possible. He knew because of her shouts. A short nap had restored some of his energy and when his eyes flew open he found his best friend curled up beside him, a defiant look on his face, while his mother glared coldly at the two of them. “You! Tozier boy! Get out!” she practically screeched, resulting in her son jolting awake in horror. “You’re making him sick!”

Richie eyed his best friend’s mother lazily, grabbing Eddie’s hand with the utmost nonchalance and refusing to move. He didn’t seem to comprehend the seriousness of her words, like he thought that she wouldn’t remove him by force if it came to it. Eddie gripped the older boy’s hand in return and shyly asked his mother to let him stay for a little longer. They were lucky because, before she could get up and throw him out the room as she longed to, a doctor in his traditional long white coat sauntered into the room, instantly putting an abrupt end to their incessant squabbling.

“Eddie Kaspbrak?” the dark-haired doctor smiled, standing at the foot of Eddie’s hospital bed while his patient nodded in agreement as his friend hastily slipped out from between the sheets, perching on the edge of the bed, their fingers remaining interlocked. “Your test results are in and…”

“And?” Mrs Kaspbrak interrupted sharply, leaning forward in her seat enthusiastically.

“You’re fine, Eddie,” the doctor continued, speaking as though she hadn’t said a word. “Everything’s normal. You’ll be able to go home today.”

Richie’s gaze was fixed on his friend’s expression – half-relieved, half-shocked – but then he caught a glimpse of Mrs Kaspbrak’s and had to stifle a laugh. She looked utterly appalled. He gave Eddie’s hand a slight squeeze, reassuring him that although his mother looked as if she was about to murder someone, he was there for him if he needed him. His mother insisted there must have been some sort of mistake, that her son was weak and delicate and begged them to keep him in at least another night and for them to conduct more tests because they must have gotten it wrong the first time, but the doctor refused to acknowledge her pleas, telling her quite plainly that while mistakes were sometimes made, there was absolutely nothing physically wrong with her son.

During the ongoing argument between Mrs Kaspbrak and the doctor, Richie took the opportunity to whisper into Eddie’s ear without being noticed by his friend’s eternally-resentful mother. “You know you just have a crush on someone, right? That’s what’s wrong with your heart. It does that.” He pulled back immediately, smirking when Eddie stared at him with wide eyes.

Unfortunately, Mrs Kaspbrak seemed to have heard him. “Don’t be so disgusting!” Her shrill cry cut off the doctor mid-sentence and a couple of nurses hovered in the doorway, looking on with intrigue. “He’s a child! Maybe you have feelings like that, Tozier, but not my little Eddie.”

No-one seemed to notice when Eddie rolled over onto his side, buried his head under the blanket and started to cry quietly, the constant arguments between the two most important, influential people in his life filling him with a tormenting sense of distress that overpowered any sliver of positive emotion he had left within him. Eventually his mother was carted out of the room on the grounds that someone needed to speak to him alone, though the doctor didn’t explain what that was about. He made Richie leave too, except he didn’t go kicking and screaming like he’d promised.

That made Eddie cry harder and he still didn’t stop when a tall, professional-looking blonde woman strode into the room and sat down in the chair where his mother had previously been sitting. She pushed her dainty round glasses further up her nose – a painful reminder of the fact that Richie was no longer there – and checked whether he was indeed Eddie Kaspbrak (something which he decided a lot of people seemed to be doing that day) and went on to introduce herself as a psychiatrist. Apparently, she needed to see him because of his persistent symptoms of anxiety, to which he suggested that anyone who was as controlled by a strict regime of medication as him would be just as anxious as he supposedly was.

She started asking him questions about his home life and he immediately began to shut down, refusing to answer any of them. He had stopped crying by now and had wiped his tears away, but when she asked whether he was happy at home the feeling of his tears gathering at the corners of his eyes returned and it took every ounce of strength and courage he had to hold them back as he nodded his head, reluctant to speak. He was happy at home – sometimes. But other times he wished his mother wasn’t so protective, even though he knew she was only doing it because she cared, and that she wouldn’t disapprove of his friends so much.

In fact, what he hated most about his mother’s possessive behaviour was how she often insisted that nobody besides her truly cared for him. He thought it was because she didn’t approve of his friends but sometimes she was so obstinate on the subject that he was starting to believe that none of them – not even Richie – actually liked him, that they were only pretending to out of pity. The Losers’ Club accepted anyone, but they didn’t truly accept him – and only allowed him into the group because he had no-one else to turn to.

Catching sight of the tears he was so desperately trying to hide, the psychiatrist closed her notebook, stood up and declared that their short session was over because he was obviously struggling, though Eddie was bemused as to the fact that their momentary encounter had indeed been a “session”. She reached across and handed him a small appointment card which stated that they would have another session in a week’s time, and told him he could get ready to go home.

He found his mother waiting for him outside the room. She smiled at the sight of him and, at her request, he hugged her (albeit half-heartedly) and kissed her on the cheek. As they headed towards the exit, she launched into a series of questions about what had gone on in the room while she had been made to sit outside and he answered all of them, each one with a vague lie, and in usual circumstances he would have felt guilty but at this particular moment he was too distract by his hopeful search for Richie.

Even as he climbed into the car, about to leave for home, he was still searching for Richie. And he was still having no luck whatsoever with his pursuit.

“I saw you looking for him.” His mother’s words sliced through the air the minute they stepped into the house, chilling him to the bone. For a second he glanced up at her, perplexed and shocked by her proclamation. “That Tozier boy,” she spat, as if she really needed to explain. “I sent him home,” she said proudly, depositing herself onto the sofa and patting the seat next to her, like she was expecting him to sit down beside her.

He didn’t, only scowling in response. “That doctor said there was nothing physically wrong with me. Doctors know what they’re talking about.”

She shrugged it off, still insisting that they’d made a mistake with his tests. “You know you’re delicate, Eddie. They know it too. He was probably just trying not to scare you – only I tell you the truth all the time. I’m the only one who cares enough to be honest with you, Eddie.” She was about to say something about his friends – he could feel it – but he cut her off before she had the chance to start.

“You lied to me. You’ve been lying this whole time,” he growled, teeth gritted and bared like a feral animal. “Am I even sick? Do I even need these?” He snatched up the bottle of pills he’d been carrying around for years, launching them across the room in a fury.

She continued to deny everything, repeating that only she was honest with him and that everyone else were the liars until eventually he couldn’t bear to stand there and listen to her anymore, at which point he stormed out dramatically – though his stomps didn’t make as much noise as he’d hoped, giving that his body was smaller and lighter than that of an average boy his age – and locked himself in his room, not even coming out when his mother shouted him for dinner.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to think or feel anymore. Maybe no-one did like him, but if that was true, then why did Richie hurry to the hospital to see him in the middle of the night? Why did he even answer his call?

His thoughts quickly turned to the last words Richie had spoken to him – his explanation of his rapid heartbeat. Though his mother clearly disagreed, it was possible, he supposed, that his perpetual obsessive thoughts of his closest friend and the way his heart raced when they entered his mind (as it was doing at that exact moment) could be explained by the simple notion that he was developing strange, foreign feelings for him. But he hoped to God that it wasn’t true. He couldn’t have feelings like that for another boy – that was wrong; his mother had taught him that long ago.

He could feel his face burning, his cheeks turning red as he tried to focus on something else – anything else. As far as he was concerned, the longer he went without thinking of Richie, the better.

So he took out a pen from his nightstand drawer, perched on the edge of his bed and started drawing on his arm until his entire forearm had become a forest of reddish flowers. He was feeling much calmer by the time he’d finished, so calm in fact that when his mother knocked on the door a few minutes later he answered it (though he kept his arm hidden behind his back), choosing to face her rather than continue hiding.

“Eddie,” she said sympathetically, though anyone would have realised there was nothing genuine about her kindness, tilting her head onto one side as she gazed down at him. “You need to come out and eat. You know how weak you are.”

He scowled at the floor and disregarded her last notion entirely. “No, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

He attempted to shut the door then but she kicked out her leg just in time, her foot getting caught between the door and the doorframe. “You can’t hide in there all day, Eddie.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Are you still taking your pills? There’s another-”

He pushed her foot away using all the strength in his own and slammed the door shut before she could finish that thought.

#angst #romance #hurt/comfort #reddie #fanfiction #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it 2017

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heseuscristo · 7 years

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Scary Monsters & Super Creeps

Features bodysuits and gender bending.

Warning: This features graphic depictions of violence and identity loss.

The soft crinkle of rusty leaves rang throughout the autumn night. Origin of the sound was a person carrying a holstered gun who stopped crushing them at the sight of a wooden fence protecting the backyard of a house. He climbed over with ease, but his more notable achievement was scaling the wall and entering by breaking a window. There, relaxed in a bed, slept a teenager who now found his peace shattered. Despite screaming, the invader nevertheless silenced him in a mere second, ran to another room to grab something, and bolted. The local police never found the man. How he even got inside was one mystery, but why he supposedly did not take anything or murder was far more perplexing. The boy told them it was inhuman, that some sort of animal had crashed into the house, but such an unbelievable story fell on deaf ears. His older brother was the opposite, accepting it immediately. He told him his secretive experiment finally had a hole, that someone in the world broke his trust and the government’s trust. With ease, and with the engineering brother’s fervent knowledge, the government deduced him as Albany Peterson. Albany was a former marine and a childhood companion of the brother, Nathanael. Never was he out of line, showed malicious intent, or appeared heartless. He was always known as protective and loving of nature, but now, Nathanael cast those memories behind. This project was his magnum opus, his only chance at the history books. Out of self-infatuation and fear for his family’s safety, Nathanael requested for the government to kill him. His plea was heard, but the decree was already set that he would be tracked down and killed as his trust was broken, meaning nothing stopped him from spilling out the secret of bodysuits. For this special mission, a hitman was selected by Nathanael himself. He was provided a costume gun to use as a disguise, to allow multiple identities and less chance of tracking. The brother was able to contact him for a short talk. Situated in his workplace, he made sure to speak his words carefully with him. The two sat opposite on a wooden table that was removed of stains or scars, making it unnaturally spotless. Their conversation began after Nathanael spent a minute or two meticulously making his beverage.

“John Oates. It’s a pleasure to have your expertise—” Before he could speak any more good will, the hired gun brought his index finger to Nathanael’s face and snarled.

“I don’t need your pat on my back. If you’re trying to be nice, quit it. I know you’ve put the most effort into those god damn bodysuits.” He spat, his head slightly to the side during delivery.

“I wanted to take things slowly before talking about those, but I see now.” Nathanael took a sip from his stone mug, and when he put focus on the hitman he saw his menacing gaze look back.

“Pfft.”

“There’s a reason I chose you for this. You hate the bodysuit technology. On one of your assignments, an illegal company manufacturing bodysuits without using the costume gun had one of their men disguise themselves as a woman, lure you into someplace devoid of authority, and for your pride I won’t go further.”

“So you know everything. If you know, we’re done and I’m calling this off.” As he stood to leave, a taunting voice called back to him with.

“Do you not think you could utilize your emotions for the better? Catch this bodysuit criminal, and no one will have to go through what you’ve gone through.” John tilted his head back to see the mug meet the table once more.

“Albany is unreasonably cold. He’s smart with his military background, so you’re the only candidate available. Knowledge of bodysuits is something we’ve held back for years, and we wish to keep it that way. You’re one of the few ‘good guys’ who know.”

“Fine. Since you’re so eager about it, I’ll bite. But let me tell you this. You’ve been on my personal hit list for a long time.”

“I already know. I also know polonium-210 was put into my drink. Who knows who the culprit is, but I’d say it was a waste of fortune to use it.” The perpetrator sniggered.

John Oates, realizing he was not an easy kill, forced himself to continue listening to the run-down of the plan. He was told that the costume gun was capable of turning animals into suits, and that Albany used this method to climb inside a whale due to being on a different continent. He timed his arrival to the Pacific shores at night to get out without any attention, turned the whale back to normal, and let it die beached. His plan held one flaw; whales decompose before showing up on beaches. The anomaly was uncertain for both the media and Nathanael’s team, and it wasn’t until Albany’s betrayal that they believed the two cases were linked. Now in the present, he relentlessly searched for three days in the immense city. The real problem was that Albany could easily leave the area, hide under a variety of personas, or any other plethora of tactics to stay low. John’s agitation led to his demands for other agents, more cameras, or simply anything. So Nathanael pulled together less professional operatives who had no knowledge of bodysuits, instead being told there was a anonymous killer on the loose. In fact, one of John Oates’ friend came on the case with him. The police were involved once more, though the case was put into vague terms as an unidentified person likely to murder due to a fabricated note that was forged by Nathanael. The news broadcasted a call to civilian action, that they should make sure to lock all doors and not wander alone at night. These were all pointless for the man wielding the versatile firearm, but instilling those practices helped decrease other crimes to be committed at the slight expense of increased fear. It took one week of hunting for a dead body to appear. At the edge of the city to the side of an ordinary highway before the morning commute, a pile of skin was scattered beside a bush. John was the first to find the disfigured bodysuit, stumbling upon it while driving around the area drunk. What was meant to be in one piece was instead cut up into six parts; the arms, legs, and head were separated. As there was no blood to flow in a bodysuit, the scene was devoid of it. Regardless, John vomited the instant he saw the warped pile, and could not believe his nightmare cycled back. There was no chance of bringing the victim back alive, as they would instantly die of blood loss. Connecting the skin like cloth would not work either. Yet, to preserve the secret of the technology, John was ordered to shoot him back to life so his body would be a mutilated corpse for the police to perform a hopeless autopsy on. He left before it fully formed. Later that day, around evening, John kept himself on a bar stool. He’d ordered five shots of beer by now, give or take, and was tipsy. The bar was an underground setting that barely held two visitors at a time. John made up one half this time, calling Nathanael to talk with him and fill in the remainder. He downed one more shot before Nathanael decided to tell him to give up and let someone else take arms, but John chuckled. “You want me to give up? That Albany killed my drinking buddy.” His rugged force contorted into a feral smile and he slammed a pint he was holding down. “I’ve known his family for years. For Christ’s sake, his wife gave birth to a baby girl a couple months ago,” The racket died down as he stuck fingers up to his forehead, another securing itself on his brown shaven beard, “and I’m the reason his kid won’t see her dad again since it’s going to be a closed casket.” At this, Nathanael slapped John at the shoulder. “Look, John. If you weren’t going to do it, someone else would’ve. If everybody didn’t want to, I’d do it.” Instead of quenching sadness, it fueled another emotion. “Hah, that says a lot about you! You know, you’re the reason why all this happened! You and your group made the costume gun, isn’t that what you said?” With some anxiety, the recipient nodded. “Now that’s got me thinking. Why don’t you go to the front lines? What, are you working on something that’ll fucking turn everything into a bodysuit?!” At this point, John stood back and pulled out the costume gun he was supplied. No one working on the mission had one except him. Even at the mercy of a trained killer, Nathanael was calm. He swiveled his chair to face him. The bartender behind both of them shook in horror at what unfolded and what could unfold next, so he laid below the shelves of alcohol. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I am under the government’s protection and they could be spying on us right now.” That made John even more enraged, that their practically omniscient surveillance failed to track down the most volatile killer. “Lemme tell you this. I miss my chap and drink lots, but don’t take me as a sore pushover. I’ll shoot you. For Daryl.” He aimed directly at the head, a talent instinctive after several years. Nathanael folded one leg over the other, taunting, “Then do it.” “Gladly.” What was meant to turn Nathanael into a crumbling mess was instead a shot that only made his body glow with electricity. Before John could comprehend why his shot was thrown away, a rectangular bottle of Jack Daniels bludgeoned his head, surely fracturing the back of his skull and destroying an artery. He fell with a spurt of blood following, and on the floor struggled to rise up against his attacker. When he finally did, he saw it was the bartender, for he was pridefully holding the bottle like a fresh kill. “The real Nathanael is probably out working, or maybe spending quality time with his younger brother.” The spectator moved out of his seat and leaned down at him. John’s breathing becoming bursts of a person running out of time. “Do you think I plan my crimes alone? Do you think I haven’t told anyone about this?” “Why..?” “A fine question,” He gave a curt cough, “It pains me to see anyone like this, so I’ll tell you.” “Why did I talk about Nathanael if I’m wearing him and he can’t do anything? Sure, the world Nathanael and his team are leading innovation together with their bodysuits” Albany answered himself, receiving nothing as a response. “But there are other companies. Other illegitimate workshops who’ve been working from scrappy blueprints that don’t use the costume gun. Thing is, they all lead back to the original production. When I broke into his house, I didn’t steal from his little brother and leave. I took a sample of good Nathan’s genetic code. A single strand of hair was all I needed.” John processed a few words. House. Steal. Genetic.

“You..” All he could do was say one thing, free of emotion. It was less voluntary and more automatic. “If he wasn’t home, then I’d put the other gun back, steal a random object, make obvious destruction, and leave. The most basic form of robbery.” He thought out loud. “You’re bleeding hard.” John was on the threshold of unconsciousness, with dull eyes missing the livid spark to avenge his companion. “You won’t die. You’ll live on.” He whistled at his accomplice to set the bar to “Closed.” “Did you get the bodysuit prepared?” They nodded, for some reason not using the voice. “This is from a costume gun. So’s the bartender’s.” In Albany’s hands was an extremely small disguise, a disheveled scrap with minimal details of a rat. John wanted to defend himself. Pull one last stand, take Albany down with him, but his body was coldly numb. He could only watch as they tore him naked and started stuffing him into the suit. Breaking scientific boundaries, his body gradually fit inside as it expanded further and further, looking like strained patches of fur. The composition of a rat is different from a human, so his legs were put at the rat’s hind legs and his arms at the front pair. His head was squashed into the dots of eyeholes, but with his entire body tightly inside, the magic had begun. He shrank within seconds, crushing all human bones into the thin skeletal frame of a rodent. Recovering from blunt trauma with a bodysuit did not solve the mental brain damage associated. Though true his new, minuscule brain was free of injury, it could not support every single thought and decision making. His cognitive functions were damaged enough by the harsh liquor, so assimilating to a more feral way of thinking suited the poor soul. “You’re so tiny! How cute.” The bartender squealed. John heard it all, knew of the sounds and their syllables, yet could not muster anything out of it. His humanity rivaled an infant’s. “If you have the cage, keep him there for the night.” So the fake bartender did. It wasn’t made of bars, but of plastic with a holed cover fit for insects and other vermin. John fit quite easily into his new habitat. With shop closed, the two slept on a table while the animal scurried about for sustenance. Next morning, Albany and his quiet helper decided to ditch the city. Before doing that, they brought the bartender back to life and slumped him against a stool. The helper, in their true form, held the rat. “I need to meet with a friend, though it shouldn’t take long. Hold John and wait outside.” She bowed at the request. As Albany left with both costume guns, he knew the murderous nature of his apprentice, who opened up the cage and squeezed the rat by their left hand once he left her view. Overnight, John lost all sense of humanity and was no different from a disgusting, multiplying sewer rat. The grip broke its bones, and now it was squirming for life. Without a care, she threw the rat out into the city street. There, it inched back and forth with tiny paws trying to live on. The pain was worse than the previous blow to the head, as the injured part removed some of the feelings. But for this, every single movement hurt: ruptured lungs gave no air and one foot was obliterated and would never move. Death finally came once a car destroyed all remaining parts, instantly killing the rat and its whining. Another flattened its scraggy corpse, and as time continued, it would probably resemble a random stain on the floor to be cleaned. No one would ever suspect it to be a bodysuit and even less, a human. After the gruesome act, she waited. She waited for nothing, and no one came.

--- By now, the real Nathanael sat on a rotating chair beside the dining table, facing the entrance. A knock on the door brought him up, and it opened up to a carbon copy of the engineer. This clone casually passed back his cell phone. “Done?” “Yes, I am. You really wanted John Oates gone since he was going to kill you eventually, but—” “It’s selfish, I know. On the other hand, I think I’m helping out the future generation.” The bigger picture began rolling in Nathanael’s mind. A world where no one could die with the blessing of bodysuits that reversed age. He thought of how those with amputations could have bodysuit recreations of themselves and wear them, or how a deaf person could use their imitation that was modified to having working vocal chords. All these good things, he told himself, came at a price of minor skirmishes such as John. “Our government works with the other global leaders, and they all control the so-called illegal bodysuits. I guess we’re all working together under a common goal.” “Quite the cycle.” Albany ripped his expensive bodysuit into pieces, shredding it like fabric all over the doormat; the polonium no longer poisoned him. His true, staggering height of six feet and more blasted through the undersized disguise. He was in a full set of luxury clothing shadowed by a charred tuxedo jacket with a tone of skin covered in blemishes that came with old age.

“Quite.” The two of them picked up the remains, which Nathanael would later burn.

“This is my last gift to you.” The gray-haired elder passed one costume gun back. He looked back at his friend with sullen, aged eyes.

“It’s the end of the line for me, Nathan. I did for you as payment for how much you’ve helped me in the past.” But he shook his head, rejecting the manners.

“I don’t know if I can call this payment. You told me your plan to get the entire world to hate you, trash part of my house, and it succeeded. But for what purpose?” This revelation of emotions made his eyes averted from his friend, but two wrinkled hands brought his attention back to Albany’s selfless expression.

“My reasoning is simple. Human desires. Material greed, an urge to love, to grow smart, having knack or addiction for killing; it’s unhealthy for a human to live that way. Maybe it sounds too old-timey for you youthful progressivists, but I’m leaving those behind. As a marine, I was rash. Violence and sex were all I thought of. How I wasn’t labeled mentally ill was as crazy as my head back then. For years I wanted to get away from the life I made when they finally decommissioned me.”

“So the costume guns were your new hope.”

“My godsend. When I depart from you, my friend, I’m going to sail away in a dolphin to a deserted island. I’ll live the rest of my days untouched and in a tropical utopia, a home by the sea. It’ll be enough time to think about all of my sins. John Oates, my daughter, I’ve harmed too many.”

“I see.” The old man gave a half-smile as the other let out of a tear. Everything that occurred today, unprecedented or planned, was too much for Nathanael.

“This is a lot to hear from a person you’ve respected, isn’t it? I apologize.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Then I suppose I’m done here then. Enjoy the future, Nathanael. You’ll be on your own in this big world.” Nathanael hadn’t realized the two were standing so close to the door until it was closed on him. Thereafter, he remained still. Upstairs, his little brother overheard the end of the ruckus and flew down the wooden steps.

“What was that all about?” Wiping off any remaining tears, Nathanael casually responded with life-changing words.

“Nothing, but I have something you might like right here. It’s called a costume gun.”

#tg #tf #tsf #transgender #transformation #mtf #ftm #male #female #to #change #gender #bender #bodysuit #skinsuit #suit #kawamono #mind #alteration #identity #loss #animal #rat

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