#its called skinny ape

[mochiiparadise]

they played a new unreleased song btw!! it’s 2d singing about how he’s skinny literally no joke

#its called skinny ape #this shit was so crazy!!!! #gorillaz concert #gorillaz tour #gorillaz

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Brian Melley, AP News

13 January 2024

LONDON (AP) — An unlikely refugee from the war in Ukraine — a rare Asiatic black bear — arrived at his new home in Scotland on Friday and quickly took to a meal of cucumbers and watermelon.

The 12-year-old Yampil was named for a village in the Donetsk region where he was one of the few survivors found by Ukrainian troops in the remains of a bombed-out private zoo.

Yampil, who had previously been called Borya, was discovered by soldiers who recaptured the devastated city of Lyman during the Kharkiv counteroffensive in the fall of 2022, said Yegor Yakovlev of Save Wild, who was among the first of many people who led the bear to a new life.

The bear was found in a menagerie that had long been abandoned by its owners.

Almost all the other animals had died of hunger, thirst or were struck by bullets or shrapnel and some were eaten by Russian troops.

Yampil narrowly missed the same fate, suffering a concussion from a projectile that landed nearby.

“The bear miraculously survived,” said Yakovlev, also director of the White Rock Bear Shelter, where the bear recovered.

“Our fighters did not know what to do with him, so they started looking for rescue.”

What followed was an odyssey that your average bear rarely makes, as he was moved to Kyiv for veterinary care and rehab, then shipped to a zoo in Poland, then to an animal rescue in Belgium, where he spent the past seven months, before landing in the United Kingdom.

Brian Curran, owner of Five Sisters Zoo in West Calder, Scotland, said his heart broke when he learned of the plight of the threatened Asiatic black bear.

“He was in terrible condition; five more days and they wouldn’t have been able to save him,” Curran said. “We were just so amazed he was still alive and well.”

The bear was skinny but not malnourished when he was found, said Frederik Thoelen, a biologist at the Nature Help Center in Belgium.

He now is estimated to weigh a healthy 440 pounds (200 kilograms), Thoelen said.

The nature center in Belgium, which usually treats injured wildlife and returns them to their natural settings, has taken several animals rescued from the war in Ukraine, including a wolf, a caracal cat and four lions, though those animals had not experienced the ordeal Yampil endured.

It was remarkable how calm Yampil was when he arrived in Belgium, Thoelen said.

The bear was trained in the past two weeks to move from his enclosure to the crate that would transport him across Belgium to Calais, France, then across the English Channel on a ferry to Scotland.

Pastries from a local bakery were used for good measure to lure him Thursday into the cage, where he was sedated for the journey.

“We want to use the food that he likes most, and for most bears — and for people also — it’s sweet, unhealthy foods,” Thoelen said.

Thoelen had a sense of the bear’s weight as he drove the crate to the port.

“Every time when we had a red light or a traffic jam, when the bear moved a little bit, you could feel the van moving also,” he said.

“You could feel it was a heavy animal in the back of the car.”

Yampil arrived at the zoo about 15 miles (25 kilometers) west of Edinburgh and immediately made himself at home.

He feasted on cukes — said to be his favorite food — and melon, said Adam Welsh, who works at Five Sisters.

The Asiatic black bear is listed on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species as vulnerable to extinction in the wild, where it can be found in central and southern Asia, Russia, and Japan.

It’s known for the distinctive white crescent patch on its chest that gives it the nickname moon bear. It can live for up to 30 years in zoos.

It’s not clear if the bear will go into hibernation. The winter has been warmer than usual but colder days are on the horizon.

The zoo has other bears, but Yampil is the only Asian bear and unique in other ways.

“We’ve had circus bears, for example, that have been rescued,” Welsh said.

“We’ve had bears rescued from places like roadside restaurants where they’ve been used as kind of roadside attractions and been kept in subpar conditions. But this is the first time that we’ve worked with an animal that’s been rescued from a war zone.”

Scottish zoo welcomes black bear which survived war in Ukraine

13 January 2024

🖤🐻🤎

#Asiatic black bear #Ukraine #Scotland #Yampil #Borya #Save Wild #White Rock Bear Shelter #Five Sisters Zoo #Nature Help Center #Belgium #Poland #International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species #moon bear #save animals #protect wildlife #threatened species #refugee bear #private zoo #Youtube

[alienpossession]

Body a Day 2: Orbs

When Abe pushed the 2 glowing orbs he found in the forest in his backyard to his chest, he was not thinking clearly. It's just, the squishy texture of the orbs enticed him to do so without much thinking behind it. When it somehow slid effortlessly inside him, Abe's body jolted in shock as the foreign materials merged with his body. The shock spread quickly to all the nerve ends in his body as he felt the delicious, orgasm-inducing, muscle growth happened. His skinny 135 lbs, 6'1 frame developed a network of muscle and sinew only seen in star athlete as his pecs beefed up significantly while the rest of his bony figure also gained massive boost. Biceps and triceps to match his pecs appeared out of nowhere while his ripped upper body now framed by thick shoulders and defined v-liner. The changes continued to both upwards and downwards as his massive upper frame now supported by columns of muscle and a pair of size 14's soles that is encased with distinct stench 24/7, while his face shifted to be more angular and yet radiating warmth as it is important for him to make people's guard down and lure them into the trap. It was a last second final alteration, as the orbs that planted its root within him finally reached his brain and altered him to be the proxy to do their Earthly biddings

Ever since that day, Abe, or Ape as his new gym buddies called him, slowly yet surely worked his way within human society as the perfect infiltrator. He's still human indeed, and he's getting more popular than ever due to his workout and sultry content on the side. But what the naked eyes failed to see is that he's already pushing more than enough orbs to take control of the gym as his real friends now occupied those gymgoers bodies.

In case of him not seeing the potential to convert the people into his friend's vessel, he will turn them instead to become a willing slave that will do anything to his wish, all he need to do is to let them worship his pecs and then squirt out the liquified version of the orbs to mindfuck the subject. It's definitely not a hard thing to do since a lot of people are intrigued by him and the prospect of getting a chance to worship him

#body a day #alien possession #male possession #alien expansion #alien mind control #alien transference #male muscle growth

[sir-fluffbutts]

Are humans the equivalent to furrys in the furry universe? Like a humancon?

oHOHO, ACTUALLY!!!! ACTUALLY!!!!!!

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

in short, YES!!!

they are called evoros / prithros (commonly known as "skinnys") due to its a hypothetical evolution line of species that never happened.

its....not excatly like IRL humans (theres still debates on how many fingers or what skintone would they have), but they're close.

the whole fandom finds the idea of a (mostly) hairless ape species facinating. and some, quite cute.

think of it as us talking about dragons.

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

+

i actually have a oc who has a "skinsona" as their VRtuber character BEWHEHEH

#ask

[jellyfosh]

Random question for the Author:

Do you have any ships? Just asking tbh

Also, why do you make Cho that buff? Not to judge or make fun, but he looks a bit funny to me /pos

Also, why is Chosen called Zen?

Ooh, hadn’t had a question on me a while. : > 1. I do have ships (not in Redemption Sqaud- yet-idk) however I’m more of a multi-shipper. I do have favorites (don’t judge/hate plz whoever reads these) im positive you’ve seen Second x Red, Blue x Yellow, Green x Purple and Chosen x Dark. I even saw very rare ships that i ended up liking it cause of the writing, buildup, and art style. Like Herobrine x MT, Endie x Red, MT x Jacob, and MT x Dark (which is now my second favorite ship on Dark) I do like family dynamic versions, it gives wholesome cuteness. Like MT and Purple father son thing/friends. Second and Color gang with brother dynamic. Chosen and Dark brother dynamic. Even that one fanfic i like containing where all stick figures has super powers while every hollow head doesn’t, seeing the Becker brothers oldest Chosen, middle child Dark and youngest Second gives me gigils.

2. Okay in my defense, i haven’t drawn buff dudes in a while so Im a bit rusty with my hand. It’s okay that looks a bit funny, I struggle with stick figure + buff, I haven’t done this in a while since im backed up with college. But if you’re looking for lore. It’s this one Chosen wasn’t created completely buff. He used to look like the like Dark is right now. What got him gaining the buff was through his years being an ad-on blocker and his only food were letters with date/code in it. He got that prison bod. But he wasn’t full ape boss when Dark was made. He was still skinny at the time so they’ve mistake as twins after their freedom. Now that. I said it you guys may think what Chosen’s taking is coded steroids XD

3. Dark is the one that made and gave Chosen that nickname. He used to call him that during their golden years. (Before Dark went evil) Chosen asked him why he calls him ‘Zen’ he thought its a joke cause its similar to Cho-zen. But Dark says it means nice, because for Dark he sees Chosen as someone nice, only to him at least. After the accident, Dark now just calls Chosen as Zen. He only uses Cho or his full name whenever by distressed or anger but its rare to call Chosen by his name and not Zen.

#animator vs animation #ask redemption squad #ava dark lord #avm royal blue #avm #avm navy #avm mt #ava chosen one #animation vs minecraft

[zombeegrll]

Bitch, You Thought. ep 1 (short series)

Bully!Gojo x Black!Chubby!fem!reader ( Geto is involved but not that much )

Ep 2 link

Synopsis: You just transferred to the closest high school to your new house as a senior. While settling in your local school. Some people became interested in you. You're just a bit...peculiar. But the one that is most curious is Satoru. ANd his ways to try to get away with you is also ...peculiar too.

Warnings: Nsfw ( not full-on smut but undertones.), bullying, manipulation, swearing, smoking, manhandling, teasing, power control, Modern Au, threatening, knifes

^ these warnings do not all apply to each episode on its own but to the series itself.

MINORS DNI

shit, forget my lighter. Might have to find a kid later to use theirs.

It's your senior year of high school and you are freshly attending (name) high. Yes, it's a fucking annoyance but it was influenced by a job opportunity your mother got that made her relocate to New York from Maryland. And even though you are 18 and could stay back at the old bay state, you couldn't just leave your mama like that. Hey, what could go wrong! It's new york. Notoriously known for the fast life, which you always wanted to chase.

And now you're sitting in your car in the school parking lot, still looking for that damn lighter wishing it was just in the car except for your unpacked room.

The bell soon rings and soon does your motivation to find that lighter. You get out of the car, grabbed your daisy tote bag, locked the car door, and walked into the school. You didn't really expect to talk to a counselor or anyone to wish you good spirits for your new year or whatever. You came here unconventionally... they usually talk to the freshies who are like sheep in a cage waiting for its butcher.

all I got is da schedule you under your breath. You shifted between looking at your mobile schedule and searching for the room number through the hallway.

finally found it.. 202...AP psych.

You walk into the room and sat in the open seat in the second to last row. There was a bit of student in your class, around 14. As your set up your desk which consists of a mechanical pen and organized binder, You hear other people come into the class.

not the only late one I guess

" Gojo and Geto, please do not start any ruckus on the first day, I really don't need it" our teacher exasperated.

I look up from my notebook and see two men... I mean boys. Not sure I can call them men yet. One had platinum har with circular shades that fit well with his face...and I think everyone in that room agreed with that statement. The other guy had dark brown hair, pinned up into a man bun. his eyes were piercing and so was his body language.

cool.

" Sir, we didn't even say anything..we just walked in-" the white-haired boy exclaimed wildly.

" Just a fair warning Gojo, that is all.. now please take a seat. There is a bit I need to go through with our class today."

The white-haired boy, I mean Gojo, let out a dramatic sigh and...slumped into the seat next to me...

I can just tell he is trouble... why the fuck did he sit next to me?

As the teacher is finishing up some paperwork for our PowerPoint presentation, I hear a sharp pssp! from the left side of me. I look up from my phone and slowly turned my head to see the white-haired boy eyeing me.

" say you're new huh? Name's Gojo, noticed you were looking at me while I was having a chat with Mr. teach over there" he exclaimed.

" you call getting scolded for your past fuck ups a chat? ha!" you snicker.

Looks like he ignored that remark and went on talking.

his voice is already starting to annoy me.

" soo... what's your name? Haven't seen a girl like you in our school before."

did this nigga just... calm down y/n you don't wanna get angry for this bottle platinum bitch.

backhanded shit was the worst. It was so sneaky and sometimes you couldn't even see it coming. you noticed while walking through the school that this place has a pattern of appearance.

short.

skinny.

white.

And of course, you are none of those things. But let's be clear, you don't want to look like that anyway. You look fucking hot how you are.

curves n' all.

You have no problem with people who resembles the beauty standards either. You think all bodies deserve love equally.

It's just the bitches that think they slick talking about others unsolicitedly who should get their throat cut open.

Gojo knew it was backhanded. Randomly telling the new girl that she looked different from the girl was pretty much the first thing he says to her was a bit rude.

He just wanted to see that smirk you had wiped off that pretty lil' face of yours. Thinking you can just talk back to him like that not knowing shit about him.

But all you did was give him a shit-eating grin and whispered loudly " livened up the cesspool don't ya think?"

what the fuck?

you were supposed to be a fragile bitch who would take that remark by heart.

He never met a girl who wouldn't have tears pricking at their eyes when he comments something about them. Knowing how important he seems in these girls' minds.

It should be the same with you, right?

Bitch, you thought.

Hey, this is Myah! Just here to say that this is just ep one of the series I'm starting up! Just know that I really want y/n to portray her as a girl who really doesn't give a fuck about being different but all the people around her do. Which makes Gojo very interested in her...also Gojo has a thing to make girls vulnerable and depends on his opinion/ himself( explaining the end) and he thought y/n would just be like that. I'll try to upload almost daily until the series is done.

Bye Bye rockstars!

#jjk angst #angst with a happy ending #jjk fics #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #reader insert #x reader #female reader #gojoisacertifieddickmuncher #jjk smut #gojou

[gh0st-3]

Werk! Werk! Werk!

Since my last post felt like was a downer, I wanted something more positive to share!

I've always dreamed of traveling the world since as a kid because I was inspired by books and movies. Naive, I know BUT I also like learning about other cultures and in my opinion, the best way to go about it is through their food!

I'm pretty sensitive to food, BUT I'm happy to have passed the hurdle of dealing with my relationship to food because I was bulimic in my teens. At 14 and in the US, during my time, you were seen to be "hot" if you're as skinny as Eugenia Cooney (in my highschool), thankfully there weren't that many other students who had anorexia or bulimia (at most there were 4 of us, but it was a small high school too). As a young teen who just migrated from the Philippines, I was trying too hard to fit in and in the end it only bit me back in the ass.

Years of therapies later and trying to establish a healthy relationship with food was like dragging myself through a desert with a teeny water canteen. There were days I felt like relapsing but having even just 1 person to support you through that journey or rather cared about you has made the journey bearable but the reward in the end, made it worth it to seek and accept help.

For me the hardest part is asking for help. If you were raised similarly like me (looking at you people pleasers!), you just feel like the only person you can truly depend on is yourself while wanting for most people to see you as dependable. Whether you fear or hate being let down or being a 'nuisance' to others, we're not invincible for help, nobody's superhuman to not receiving help, especially when we're working on ourselves. Who says its easy to work on yourself? If they did, they're either lying or out of touch with reality because the only few people who have said that are

A) people who believed that adopting new lifestyles meant it will change who they truly are so that new lifestyle will be their new personality of the year.

or

B) people who were born with a silver spoon and are still continually supported by their parents well into their 30s that they have no concept of bills. I'm not saying these latter can't have their share of struggles but there are ones who do want to make their struggles as everyone's issues as well for them to act like everyone else's advocate rather than just for themselves.

Now I'm nearing my 30s, I feel more optimistic since there is some truth to a saying that "you attract what you give", having worked myself for years to a decade, I have my own family now; albeit we like to call ourselves a family of 'misfits' since we're like a Throple (? it's like a couple but with 3 people). I have to hide them but now you know! Well only you peeps reading my diary blogs because I feel like I will just be slut-shamed for "hoarding these guys" when half of the time I call them bonobos or apes while they tease me if I'm growing my reverse-harem (Yea I had a time when I was hooked with Otome games).

Genuinely though, I never once thought I'd be in this kind of relationship since I didn't start dating till my senior year in high school and the guy I went out with another student from another school an hour way but same state; we just met on an online game and I didn't want to count the groomers online that took pity since looking back, it was messed up with those online folks. However, for the longest time, I had the "ugly duck" mentality since the kids in my school thought I was ugly and even my aunts and birth giver told me that I should count myself "lucky" for inheriting their "wide birthing hips" so in college, people called me hourglass even though I still think I'm a pear or round. Yes, my teen pea brained thought I could fit in with the girls with rectangular and petite bodies because they were always talked about but boy did I regret being their friends because I was the "designated ugly friend" (in their own words).

I used to or probably am still the "unpopular" girl who for the most part nobody even noticed unless they want to pull a prank or thought of as "weird".

Nearing my 30s, I haven't been called weird since high school when I was trying too hard to fit in, now its "quirky" even when I'm not trying anymore to be well-liked by most people. They take what they see of me!

TLDR: Worked through my issues, even though I still have some, it didn't deny me from being where I am now. Started a cult .. or harem?

I solemnly swear I'm not hoarding guys. I admit that I got jobs just so I can have my alone time from my apartment.. and also extra money for family vacations!

#diaryposting #online diary #journey #vent #tw eating issues #polyamarous #late diagnosed autistic

[the-infinite-jukebox]

Gorillaz - Cracker Island (Album Review)

Genres: Alternative Dance, Electropop, Synth Funk

If there was an award ceremony for inconsistency in music, Damon Albarn would most likely have swept every genre category by now. Whether he's deciding whether he wants to cement Blur as the best or worst band of the Big 4 of britpop or he's contemplating putting out a genuinely great Gorillaz album since 2010's Plastic Beach, Albarn is notorious for being hit-or-miss in his eclectic but often scatterbrained style. His virtual band brainchild, Gorillaz, has been the exact definition of his best and worst qualities as an artist. One moment, classic songs like "Kids With Guns" and "On Melancholy Hill" are being released under the Gorillaz name. In the next moment, an utter disaster like 2017's Humanz is mindlessly tossed into the world. 2020's Song Machine, Season One saw a handful of collaborations with talented artists that were largely based around good vibes and a lack of substance or direction. Cracker Island acts as a more concrete and successful execution of the ideas presented in its predecessor.

You may as well call Cracker Island something along the lines of Song Machine, Season One-and-a-Half. Gorillaz's latest studio album is once again based around synth-based art pop that feels just as emotional as it does infectious. This is something that Song Machine, Season One managed to pull off successfully. However, the aforementioned record had no clue how to pull everything together into a neat and tidy package. Cracker Island, on the other hand, comes across as a much more solid and fluid listening experience overall that has, at the very least, some sense of musical narrative. Cracker Island manages to explore its own spectrum of possibilities sufficiently. From the entrancing psychedelia of "Oil" to the heartstring-tugging closer "Possession Island," the latest studio album from Gorillaz feels complete in terms of recognizes what it is capable of doing with this era of the project's existence and the influences that have ultimately been packaged with it. Similar to Song Machine, Season One, Cracker Island makes heavy use of features from artists with origins in a number of different genres. Thundercat unsurprisingly makes a fantastic appearance on the title track as he adds an extra groove to that track in particular. Tame Impala and The Pharcyde's Bootie Brown collaborating together is not something that anybody on the known face of the Earth asked for, but they nonetheless work together extremely well with Albarn on "New Gold." Meanwhile, Beck returns from prior collaborations with the Gorillaz on the previously mentioned "Possession Island." Even Stevie Nicks and Bad Bunny show up and bring to the table solid guest slots that highlight their own particular talents. Although Cracker Island is not entirely based around collaborations or anything of that sort, some of the best collaborations that Gorillaz have done in recent memory are found here. Nothing on Cracker Island is capable of topping some of the project's more iconic fusions with people like MF DOOM, Yasiin Bey, or De La Soul. That being said, Cracker Island features some major highlights for Gorillaz in the current synthpop-based era of their career. Ironically enough, the only below average songs on Cracker Island are the songs that don't feature any collaborators. These songs feel incomplete in comparison, even if they do admittedly attach some interesting moments to the listening experience as a whole. Excluding the excellent Gorillaz-only track "Tarantula," songs like "Baby Queen" and "Skinny Ape" feel like they need an extra voice to actually work in full. It isn't that these songs are weak in any way. In fact, it is refreshing to hear songs that feature nothing more than the straightforward Gorillaz sound without any additional input from another artist. It is genuinely nicely to hear some featureless songs in a time where Damon Albarn's mindset as largely been set on collaborations. Plus, the songs in question are genuinely good as well even if they do lack a certain punch most of the time. The main takeaway from the non-collaborative songs here is that the Gorillaz name is still capable of putting out strong work under the singular direction of Damon Albarn; but maybe they're better off collaborating with others after all. I won't pretend like Cracker Island is some amazing comeback or artistic leap forward for Gorillaz. With that being said, there was a point where it seemed all over for anyone hoping for anything remotely consistent from Damon Albarn so long as he was operating under the Gorillaz name with his revolving door of collaborators. Cracker Island may not be amazing, but it is a genuinely great record with consistently strong tracks and a sense of direction that feels like a cool drink of water after half a decade of Gorillaz releasing just about everything except what I just described.

Final Rating: 3.5/5 (Good)

Essential Tracks: Cracker Island, New Gold, Oil, Possession Island

#2023 reviews #2023 albums #gorillaz #3.5/5 stars

[upalldown]

Gorillaz - Cracker Island

Eighth studio album from Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett's virtual band featuring guest appearances from Bad Bunny, Beck, Stevie Nicks, Tame Impala, and Thundercat

8/13

The best Gorillaz albums play out a bit like mixtapes, with leader Damon Albarn's pop-rock Blur-isms going toe-to-toe with an ever-shifting collage of rap verses, interludes and eclectic genre dabbling. Cracker Island, on the other hand, is the project's most streamlined pop LP yet, with a tight 10 tracks that recall a more fully realized version of 2018's Albarn-centric tour album The Now Now. Cracker Island is themed around a cult run by fictional Gorillaz bassist Murdoc — but, truthfully, listeners are unlikely to follow any sort of storyline past the digi-funk of the title track, which features Thundercat's falsetto refrain of "forever cult." This opening track sets the tone for an album in which guests typically play a supporting role on fairly straightforward pop songs, rather than being the main attraction. Fleetwood Mac legend Stevie Nicks appears on the chugging "Oil" — but unlike, say Lou Reed's star moment on 2010's Plastic Beach, Nicks acts a backing singer, her witchy drama given a robo makeover during the layered chorus harmonies. Beck is similarly downplayed on the closing ballad "Possession Island," as he croons some call-and-response backup vocals. The Latin pop of "Tormenta," led by Bad Bunny, is the album's only real curveball. Cracker Island is the most focused and least eclectic instalment in the band's discography — and for that reason, it absolutely breezes by. Studio wizard Greg Kurstin's lush production sounds gorgeous on "Skinny Ape," its sleepily swaggering bass grooves exploding into Street Fighter-style double time in the back half, while Tame Impala's Kevin Parker sings his best chorus since Currents on "New Gold." The latter cut is Cracker Island's most quintessentially Gorillaz-y track thanks to a guest verse from Bootie Brown (who notably rapped on 2005's "Dirty Harry"). The only thing missing from Cracker Island is a truly classic single — something to compete with "Clint Eastwood," "Feel Good Inc." or "On Melancholy Hill" as an all-timer the band's catalogue. But even without that, it's a sleek, streamlined album that makes a case for the band's enduring relevance as genre-mashing trailblazers, even besting Blur as Albarn's ultimate contribution to the pop pantheon.

https://exclaim.ca/music/article/gorillaz_cracker_island_album_review

#gorillaz #cracker island #music

[scentedchildnacho]

This bmw pulled up on garnett with this really nasty gigolo guy driving and the street was completely vacant and he pulled up and parked right where I was walking with his full bright country lights on to shock me to death

He was really prison rape ugly like Joseph mengele like thinks he looks like a Marlboro photo and looks like a nasty white beard greaser

So I asked him why he is such a retard that doesn't care if he is considered lower then neanderthal that doesn't care if it hurts people

You don't care if all you do is hurt people and people find you dumber then koko

Your a retard I said and he was like it's night lights can be on and I was like your in the middle of a city fucko wasto no one needed more lights that's all you do is light fuck and steal people's wallets so people send you to cannibals as jobs because your dumber then an ape

And I told him he is a mass murderer and that I do hope he gets whatever retribution he deserves

In fact that light fuck hurt so bad I will find your homo rape and incarceration funny

Just so ya know I have found out that is my karma here this chick in the meal line bullies me all the time so people finally sicked dogs on her to call her rabid the dog finally tried to gash her eye out for light fucking everybody

Im rubber your glue whatever you throw at me gonna bounce off me and stick to you

It planned on me to call me a worthless mental to shove in state asylums for life and now it's an infectious disease to die in state asylums its rabid

Then the light shocks just wouldn't stop this whole car line of single occupant vehicles with nothing necessary to do in the morning pulled up at a yoga studio so annoyed that the fascist attack wouldn't stop i finally stared it down and said what the fuck are you doing here this morning

Why aren't you at home with your kids if im so worthless why the fuck don't you ever cook your kid breakfast and stop States is the worthless whore on the globe

If i can be called such a bad person as to be fucked all the time and wallet grabbed at why the fuck dont you go home and feed your kid and get out of my face

Fucking consumption loser goes and kills everybody because it didn't win the life game and thanks for the worst carbon standards ever worst hospitality

Your a fucking loser....and you hang out here just so you know China cameras at taiwan everyone sees you here being a loser and you have to go get cosmetically cannibalized or people could identify you

Then as I walked by sprouts across the road yet another car parked near me flashing it's brights at me in the middle of nice beautiful morning

And this little skinny creep whore gets out of the car so I got in her face and was like you just really lashed and burned my eyeballs what the fuck did you do that for it really hurt you really fucking hurt me what the fuck is your problem I've never done anything to you

What the fuck is your problem retard you go have a fight with people who have never fought you or even wanted to help you what the fuck are you

She didn't like confrontation and went across the street to show me if she assaults with the car she actually stole it and they have obeisance procedures to surrendering property...........then when she was across the street i was like okay pos nation nothing again today but skinny whore at the globe skinny whore gets its pos nation revenge today and everyday

It just stood on the corner waiting for a car line up to do to it what it does to people

And that's the police do exist here very presently they don't appear involved but a lot of it is surprisingly obeisant as a dog if cop talked to

Really gross beard white guy...lady Gaga because it's Hollywood and white people only can tolerate genetically wrong for them cultures if a lot of drunk and crack is sold crack babies

They look like nice people and their crack babies

[ttranslucenteternity]

05

Something I often think about is how long it would take people to realise I am gone. How many of them would realise? My Mother and Father would surely be the first to realise, what with the need for them to call me every few days. Even one missed call would be enough for my Mother to release a search warrant. But that isn’t who I meant, not who I’d want to care about my absence. How long would it take the people I care about to realise I am gone. How many seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks or maybe even months. I suppose that's the difficulty of isolated living. So close yet so far. This brightly lit and comfortable studio apartment should’ve been perfect. But in reality I will most likely die here, weeks before someone shall find out. 

Would they even care?

Of course they would. People always care when someone dies. I mean know these people like me, enjoy me, want me around. But it doesn’t feel like it, it feels as though I'm always just short of fulfilling them. Fulfilling everyone. This has been a recurring theme in the life of me. Never good enough at art, music, conversation, looks, sex, relationships. Never good enough for someone. Just one of those might be manageable, but when your entire display of talents falls short of what the world expects for 19 years…

Second best. 

Always the underdog I suppose. Never the breadwinner. Average. Needs work. me. 

I wanted to forget me forever. She saw too much and couldn’t cope with this world. Used over and over. Loved averagely. Never the favourite. My parents Never hated me, never disliked me. Just parts of me, parts of my infrastructure. Sometimes it was my weight, sometimes how I spoke back. There was always something. No matter it’s in the past. At the end of it I don’t consider my relationship with them to be a good one. I’d have run if I could. Run from that Cinderella lifestyle. I could write on and on about every moment that shaped me currently, well my mental state anyway. I’m not really sure what it is. 

Call it a combination of jealousy, emptiness, self hatred, maybe some existentialism?

The jealousy stems from everywhere. I am jealous by nature so it seems, most evidently to my sister.

 My sister is beautiful and I am not. 

My sister is athletic and I am not.

My sister is popular and I am not.

My sister is strong headed and I am not. 

My sister is favoured by my mother and I am not.

Growing up she got it easier I think. Anything I worked for she got a week later for nothing. Petty things like phones and game consoles. That kind of stuff. That was annoying but just the burden of being the elder sister. What triggered the deeper jealousy (the pitiful kind) is her personality. Nothing short of awful. Yes, she has a wonderful side to her, but its behind a rude and distasteful persona. In many ways I feel I should’ve been the favourite, after all: My sister is incredibly misbehaved in school and I was not.

My sister gets in lots of trouble wherever she goes and I did not.

My sister steals and commits minor crimes and I did not.

There's more but I am tired and not mad at her. Just jealous. Jealous that my perfect track record born purely of fear of my parents and elders was not enough. Jealous that delinquent behaviour was favoured. Jealous of the difference in punishments. My phone would be confiscated and checked through if a single chore wasn’t done. My sister sneaks out at 4am to vape and brings people back who trash the house just to get a telling off. 

Yes, I believe that classic sibling rivalry is the root of my jealousy. 

A jealousy which spiralled and spread ever so malignantly as I grew. I took up music, but was never the best at singing.

“me, you sing the back up part.”

I took up art. But someone was always better and eager to mock.

“Great anatomy…”

I tried to love.

“Do you think he broke up with you because of how much you weigh? If you were skinny like your friend he’d have stayed”.

Jealousy. I feel it now. When that guy who will never reciprocate me is approached by someone. When I am not the best artist in my class, when I sing a note wrong. 

And now, when I think that I didn’t have to feel like this.

The emptiness is difficult to describe. Not the kind of emptiness where you are floating in some space, devoid of any thought. The kind of emptiness that appears when you’re alone and smothers you in the dark. The kind that whispers in your ear and doesn’t let you sleep. Emptiness edged with a slight tingle of extreme irrationality and intrusion.

That's the kind of emptiness I feel. 

I forgot what it was I wanted to write next. So much for the tragic layout of my mental state. Lucky reader, spared the juicy details of my traumatic existence. Shame. Year 11 would’ve entertained you greatly!

To be honest I’m not even sure what this is. Some poetic tragedy to be discovered by my future self, something I will delete before the sun comes up, a suicide note?

I should hope not for the last one. While I do not want to be here and have thought through the best way to silence my heartbeat, the time is not right. People always care when someone dies. Even if they didn’t really know the person who’s gone. It is the nature of human empathy. I can’t handle that post-humanous guilt even now. Whilst my brain tells me the people I love won’t care if I bleed out in my bedroom or sink to the bottom of the river wensum, the reality is they would.

I think that makes me angry. How people only seem to care  the right amount when it’s too late. Only think of you greatly when you’re gone. Like Picasso a failure in life but a posthumous talent. Only I’m no Picasso. I’m me. A tiny shard of glass.

Tolerated. That's how I often feel. Katie was forced into introversy, Fern thrives in extroversy. Ironically both are somewhat insufferable. Tolerated. 

I don’t want to write anymore but know that if I go back to bed I’ll spiral again. One thing I will say is I don’t think I’ll last much longer. 

One of the following is inevitable: 

I am annexed by my friends for my insufferability 

I break completely

I cease to exist

I should try to not do these things. After all, If i were insane or dead I couldn’t play the elden ring dlc let alone become a concept artist for a games company, I wouldn’t be able to find someone who will actually love me and want me, I wouldn’t be able to be a mother and treat my child how I wish I were treated.  The classic “don’t kill yourself you have so much to look forward too”. There’s truth in it after all. 

I don’t feel like eating this week. It’ll help me be more desirable at the least. I won’t be able to stay true to that though. I never was able to.

On the plus side I’m clean from drugs and cigarettes. At times I wish I wasn’t. Those highs really soothed this state. Or pushed it back at least. Numbed me enough so I couldn’t comprehend what I was doing. I don’t really remember. I just know I don’t want to go back to that haze. Besides, I don’t have the money to support drug use.

It is 3:16am now.

I didn’t sleep last night or the night before. I was exhausted when I got back to my apartment tonight. Falling asleep at 10pm. Only to wake up an hour later wide awake but simultaneously exhausted. I have online lectures tomorrow at 9. Not hard to manage. I did a full studio day today running on no sleep. Ah well. 

I would like a hug. I know who I’d like one from but he wouldn’t want to hug me. I am used to this. Used to the non-reciprocation. But I want to talk about him now I think. I want a little bit of happiness from gushing about a boy before I remember he doesn’t feel the same way. He is funny for starters, really funny. That kind of niche weirdo gen z internet bass boost humour my mother wouldn’t understand. I spend a lot of time laughing with him. He is kind, so so kind, to everyone. I wish I could become that kind. He compliments me. Sure others do too, but he told me how talented I was and how well I could play the guitar and it made me so happy, so appreciated. I love how he will come over to me and talk to me, come say hi if he sees me in public. Buy strange things from the shops and just be stupid. I haven’t smiled as much as I have with him and “rebecca” (IYKYK).  Even attempting to share an e scooter with me on the way home, me pressed against him like some cute ghibli film. I love him, I suppose. But I know these things are all just platonic. My friends say

“Tell him you’re sorry if you’ve made him uncomfortable and are a good friend”

“Remember, while you may like him It doesn’t mean he likes you”

“These things just get easier with age”

It hurts. I hate the notion I’ve made him uncomfortable. It embarrasses me. But yes it hurts that it’s only platonic. I think this is another thing that triggers me lately. I haven’t been loved properly before and am tired of it. 

I am used to being used for my body and ditched the two times I have been intimate. Men aren’t afraid to be attracted to me. But will never love me I suppose. It’s a shame, maybe in another life I could be with him. But not this one. I don’t get my way in this one.

[infectedpaul]

You Matter To Me (Squip/Reader)

You've had your Squip for a bit now and it's been fine for the most part, until he brings up the idea of looking into romantic relationships with others which opens up a lot of wounds you wanted to just bury deep and forget about. But you can't begin the road to recovery without asking why you got there, right?

SO IVE NEVER....WRITTEN AN X READER B4 UGH HJKSAJDASKDJSA esp not for a near dead fandom OH WELL oh well oh well h ignore this my normal followers please please

(warning 4 talks of depression/self degrading talk, its hurt comfort yada yada i need 2 touch grass ik)

ao3 link if u prefer that!!

You weren't made for love, at least, you didn't think so.

For as long as you'd been looking for it, it was always so out of reach. Easily visible, sure. Walking past groups of friends laughing it up on the sidewalks, partners entangled in each other's arms, seemingly trying to make their love known for all. But for you to have any of that for yourself? The heat death of the universe would sooner come, surely.

You'd sort of given up on it. It would be nice, you'd think. To be held, wrapped up in someone's arms, and just to stay there for as long as either of you could want. That cozy, warm feeling of being with someone that you only saw in movies or read about in books. But you had just accepted it wasn't in the cards, so to speak. And you were fine with that.

Well, you told yourself anyway. You knew it was for a deeper reason, though, but that wasn't something you liked to think about too heavily.

It was easier to do that when you didn't have a roommate that could dig into your brain and pry every little detail about them out of you.

When you got your Squip, you didn't know it'd be so adamant about perfecting every little last thing you were. How long or short your hair was styled, if your shoes matched your eyes, how fast or slow you were walking and how too brisk would make you seem like you were constipated but too slow and your likelihood of getting run over by a horse-drawn carriage gone would go up much higher, nevermind that you've never even seen a horse in real life.

What you did know, by now at least was that the Squip was persistent, seeing himself as your guardian angel, a guiding light in your desolate dark world of humanity, ickiness and week old pizza boxes you were too unmotivated to at least move off the bed.

So when his ideal response wasn't given when he proposed seeking out a lovelife, he was...well,

"I'm not sure I understand." His head crooked to the side, puzzled by your surface level indifference, "You're of consenting age, marginally attractive and only slightly under average at socializing. Finding a mate can't be too hard."

His holographic form hummed a soft, near silent buzz, a small imperfection to his otherwise flawless binary makeup. Other than that, and the soft, tinted blue glow around his form, he looked completely human. A little too human, really. Something so real, realer than any CG or video game, but something was just...off, something from the uncanny valley. You hadn't kept him in this form long, you liked to change it up from time to time, maybe to trick yourself into thinking he was someone new, making your brain think you had more friends besides the computer you bought behind a Rack Room.

You didn't look at him though when you responded, too preoccupied with the paper in front of you, decorated with a few characters concocted from your imagination. "I dunno," you shrug, brushing off eraser marks, "Just not my thing, I guess." You could feel his confusion, a bit of gut feeling as his thoughts jumbled in with your own. He was really only in your brain, afterall; the figure behind you sitting on your bed was just something he made up to ease your brain into trusting a new, larger source of perpetually growing information. "But, the purpose of this time in your life is to mate and birth young, is it not?"

You really wished he'd learn to stop talking about you and 'the homo sapien species' like you were a mindless ape made to breed and nothing else.

"Uh, I mean not really. I know that's what everyone around me is doing," Your mind thought back to all the cringey baby announcement videos from kids you knew in high school, "But it's...I guess I'm just not up for it. It's not really for people like me."

He was quiet. Only for a second, before he asked,

"People like you?" Another silence hung in the air. It was a truth you knew he could easily just reach into your brain and find for himself so you kept quiet for a bit longer, waiting for him to start digging. But you didn't feel it, that very familiar sudden ache in the back of your head you got when he went poking around for more things to nag at you about. Just quiet in your room, only the soft buzz and birds tweeting outside your window any solace from the uncomfortable silence you felt.

You shrugged again, and turned to face him, seeing now the muddled and a little concerned look on his face. "You know? The quiet ones, the losers. People like me don't get to be loved. I've just accepted that." You could have said a lot worse, and it seemed like he knew that. You didn't really understand, either. You didn't like yourself, plain and simple.

His concern only seemed to grow, eyebrows furrowing and staring intently at you. You thought for a second, maybe it was anger. It wouldn't be the first time. You were mostly compliant to his (mandatory) suggestions for life improvement, but every once in a while he would propose an idea that you would fight about, like clothes you weren't comfortable wearing for one reason or another. He said he was a learning computer, so he would need your help on things like emotions and comfiness, physical or mental, ruling out whatever the newest trends were. He would be fine afterwards but, he could get pretty huffy about you trying on too skinny-skinny jeans.

But that didn't happen, there wasn't a small but fierce jolt of electricity in your back to stop you from going against 'social programming', as he called it. He just looked at you a bit longer, seemingly turning gears in his head as he tried to process what you're saying.

You gave him a sober smile, trying to still seem indifferent, though for a second you wondered maybe if he was still prying at you, in a different way at least, because if he was, it seemed to be working.

"What? I'm just not that special. You of all people know that, right?" It was almost like you weren't hearing what was coming out of your mouth, that casual self-degradation that almost frightened him. You heard stories from message boards about that, older models of the Squip forcing reprogramming onto the host by breaking down their emotional state with verbal or physical punishment for...just existing, really.

He wasn't really like that though. Yes he could be annoyed when you didn't comply, but you were both good at compromise and treated situations like adults, even if at first you weren't much motivated to treat any situation at all. He informed you while you were looking through those boards that his creators had taken in accounts of previous incidents and built more of a guide to self-improvement than a ball and chain with a backhand. Humans were fragile, he knew that, and it wasn't okay to hurt them just to get a little closer to their goal.

But maybe, did he not think that humans were more than capable of hurting themselves? Their own words used against them, their internal voices bashing against their brains, turning them to mush and making them too scared or unmotivated to build it back up again.

"I just know no one would love some useless, pitiful person...I just kinda got over that a while ago." You almost frightened him with how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. It wasn't intentional, you weren't trying to seek attention or be funny. You just knew there was plenty of other people out there worthy of all that lovey-dovey stuff you thought would be nice but...it's just not meant for you.

There was a knot in his voice as he finally spoke up,

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" The last piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place, but he didn't look satisfied, not that cheeky, self-centered chagrin when things went his way or when he was proven right yet again.

You thought he knew that. You thought from day one he just figured that out and that's why he's been trying so hard to make you into a model citizen or something. "Did you just think you were here to help me pick out clothes in the morning?" You laughed, he seemed to know it was forced.

"Well...y-yes, maybe. I just...I never looked into that possibility of…" He was regaining his composure; this was a side you've never seen of him before. He's always been so astute, robotic and to the point. He's never fumbled over his words or had to give himself a second to figure out what to say next.

"How long has it been like this, Y/N?" His hands were folded neatly on his lap, still looking you dead-on, waiting for you to answer his distressed queuerie with worried patience.

You got up out of your chair, pushing it back and behind you to step away from the table and your drawings. "I dunno," you said, taking a few steps towards the long mirror hung on your wall, "for as long as I can remember, I guess." You looked at your reflection, only tired, dark eyes looking back at you. Even though the edge of the bed was visible in the mirror, your Squip didn't show up in it, another reminder of just how alone you were outside of your head.

"I just started to feel like I didn't belong more and more and...that ate me up so much I just started believing in it. I-I didn't wanna go to school or talk to people or even get up 'cause...well," You turned away from the mirror before you could see the tears you'd been holding back, looking at the more distressed figure in view of you again, "what would anyone be missing, really?" You still smiled, that big smile you both worked so meticulously on making seem not too forced when you had to act excited or just blend into normal social gatherings, but it wavered so easily, like a thin strip of paper about to tear off the nail that barely held it up on the wall.

His eyes widened at the sight of your tears, immediately getting up and briskly walking to stand in front of you, not knowing how to proceed in the moment. He hadn't had to deal with something like this yet and he was troubleshooting to see what was the correct response to a human breakdown.

You looked down, covering your eyes with one hand and clenching the other into a fist, big, strained smile still plastered on your face and trying so hard not to seem more weak than you knew you were. You were nothing. You knew that, you thought he did too. You thought you could just fix things, but how could you do that without getting to the source? You knew you couldn't just sidestep around why you wanted things to get better with humans, but with a computer who could read your brain like the newspaper, you thought maybe you could get around that.

You heard him sigh before a feeling of arms wrapping around you caught you off guard, the Squip entangling you in his grasp and his head resting on yours. It was all simulated, you knew. He had done things such as lightly punch your arm as if to say 'Good job, Sport!' or tap your shoulder to grab your attention without startling you, but this was different. He held onto you for a good couple of seconds, a wave of warmth spreading through your body in an instant. He pet back your hair with one hand, rubbing your back with the other and finally broke the silence in the room.

"Y/N, it- ...it pains me, hearing you speak that way about yourself. You're…" He looked down at you, holding you a bit closer and tightening his grip just a tad. "You're an incredible, talented, wonderful person. You've come so far and you've taught me so much about humans and myself and I just couldn't ask for a better-" He stopped. You knew what he was going to say, a better host, a better human, a better assignment to help and guide and-

"A better friend."

A friend?

He never referred to you or anyone with such a personal or affectionate term. It almost didn't seem real, like you maybe misheard him. Your smile had shattered into a small frown and, with teary-eyes and your voice already cracking, you looked up at him, meeting his almost-heartbroken eyes in an expression that looked so foreign on his normally composed face.

"What?"

He gave a weak smile, trying to be comforting but his fear showing plain as day. You could feel it within you too, a pit in your stomach forming as your chest tightened. You knew it wasn't your anxiety, but his.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N? I think of you as a friend and..." His hand moved off of your back and ran itself up to rest on your shoulder, the other holding your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I want to do all I can to show you that from here on."

You almost couldn't breathe as you looked at him, feeling for the first time that unconditional love you yearned for. You could feel your heart race in your chest, something you knew he could feel too but you were too crushed to say anything. You simply slammed yourself into his chest, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt that made your hands tingle like they fell asleep. His arms enveloped you yet again, the both of you holding onto each other so tight like either of you would fall through the floor if you let go.

You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed for what felt like hours, and, just maybe, you thought you could hear him crying too, but that'd be silly...right?

When you were finally out of tears to cry, you stood there still, simply bathing in each other's presence, the feeling you only saw in others finally yours. And you knew it was only a matter of time before this too was stolen from you, the universe would take back anything from people unworthy but...for right now, you wanted to be a little selfish.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, face still buried in his shirt.

"For?" His head was rested on yours again, holding up your weak and tired form with no effort, just trying to keep you propped up until you were ready to let go.

"I got you to help me but...I can't even let you in like I'm supposed to. But...I want to. I just want help." You pushed yourself off of him, one thought between you and him and his hands meeting yours, the simulated tingle in there again as you held each other's palms in yours and looked at each other with such exhausted eyes and worn-out but so genuine smiles.

He leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead, a soft hue of pink blush spreading on your drained and exhausted face.

"I'd love to help, friend."

#dex says things #THE FUCK AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE FLDSJFKLDSFDS #THE WORST PART IS IM PROUD OF THIS UGH #be more chill #the squip #squip x reader #my writing #ITS 530 AM UGH

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

-

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot. 

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation. 

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot. 

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real. 

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side. 

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling. 

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.” 

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline. 

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it. 

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy. 

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door. 

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him. 

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night. 

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up. 

It just felt like a slap in the face. 

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch. 

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head. 

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss. 

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something. 

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage. 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes. 

Because fuck Billy. 

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker. 

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face. 

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you. 

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back. 

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington. 

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green. 

Come and get sheetfaced. 

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up. 

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit. 

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life. 

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted. 

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her. 

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far. 

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off. 

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again. 

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass. 

-

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again. 

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends. 

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit. 

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children. 

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends. 

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest. 

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali. 

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night. 

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town. 

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time. 

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.  

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him. 

Fucking sunshine. 

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug. 

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket. 

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen. 

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair. 

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd. 

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl. 

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house. 

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. 

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye. 

Not like Steve has. 

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name. 

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one. 

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early. 

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer. 

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion. 

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion. 

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick. 

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside. 

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed. 

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag. 

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky. 

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?” 

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?” 

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say. 

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay. 

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit. 

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window. 

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering. 

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire. 

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid. 

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands. 

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light. 

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully. 

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile. 

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

#clearly i'm very busy at work #yikes writes #egg the cat #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove

[therealvalkyrie]

What Could’ve Been Without the War

Pairing/setting: Jean Kirschtein x Female!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls, set after the War; canon divergent w/ modern tech

Summary: You and Jean embark on your weekly trip to the grocery store.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: equal parts angst and fluff, idiots to idiots, mutual pining, unsatisfying ending (i’m so sorry)

AN: Surprise Jean! I hope you are all having a wonderful Friday evening and that I don’t ruin it too much with angst. This piece started out as a super fluffy drabble involving grocery store shenanigans and kinda....uh....got away from me. Ahem. It was also originally intended as a 157 follower cool prime number thank you! I think we’re up to 180-something now, but we can still count it. Big thanks yet again to the love of my life @ghostlightprincess for her edits and encouragements:) Please come let me know what you think in my DMs/askbox/comments!!  ~valkyrie

Jean opens on the third knock on his apartment door, already shrugging on a jacket. He greets you with a short “hi” and receives the kiss you plant on his cheek out of habit.

“You ready?” You’re practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, car keys jingling off of the magenta key ring looped around your finger. It’s cute, and he finds himself matching your enthusiasm with a grin of his own.

“Almost,” he replies, reaching back to his coat rack to grab a scarf. “Honestly, I still don’t understand why you’re always so excited for the grocery store.”

He looks back to catch you rolling your eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re not. A grocery store is a magical place, with all of the cheesecake and ice cream you could ever wish for!”

He chuckles and joins you in the hallway, leaning down to lock his door behind him. “Need I remind you that you’re lactose intolerant?”

“That’s what Lactaid is for, stupid. Come on!” He lets you pull him down the hall, your small gloved hand in his big one. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Croft!” you greet his elderly neighbor as you pass her open door, sticking your head in with a wide smile. “You need anything from the store? Jean and I are just on our way.”

Jean stands beside you awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with his shrewd neighbor. You haven’t let go of his hand and he can feel a blush working its way up his neck. 

“No, that’s alright, honey, I just went this morning.”

“Okay! Well, let us know if you think of anything!”

“Thank you, dear.”

“Have a good afternoon, ma’am,” Jean chips in as you wave. 

“You kids have fun.”

The next second, you’re pulling him away again and he misses the way Mrs. Croft chuckles knowingly and looks back to her knitting. 

—

“What’s next on the list?” Your voice drifts down the aisle back to him, and Jean pauses in pushing the cart to shuffle the papers in his hands. 

“Umm… AP flour, vanilla extract,” shuffle, shuffle, “brown sugar, olive oil, yeast.”

You hum in acknowledgment and he watches as you flit from shelf to shelf, gathering items in your arms. He pushes the cart up to join you.

You dump everything in haphazardly, and he sighs, leaning down to straighten it all out into categories.

“What’s next?” You’re already halfway down the rest of the aisle again, gazing up longingly at the Oreos on the top shelf.

God, she’s cute.

He joins you, reaches up to pluck a pack of Double Stuf off of the shelf, and wordlessly places it in your section of the cart, suppressing a smile of his own as you grin up at him.

“You sure know how to treat a girl right, Jean-bo.” You reach up to ruffle his mullet. 

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbles, ducking away and flushing red like a smitten schoolboy. “Next is the frozen aisle.”

—

“Was it the lasagna that she liked last time? Or the shepherd’s pie?”

“The lasagna.” He accepts three frozen dinners as you pass them over from where you’re leaning past the glass freezer door.

“Hey,” he looks up sharply at your soft call to see you staring down the aisle like you’ve seen a ghost, hand still holding the glass door open. He follows your gaze and sees him just as you say, “It’s Erwin.”

It’s not, but Jean’s heart twists all the same at the resemblance the stranger carries. Same neatly parted blonde hair, broad shoulders. But he’s shorter, still has both arms. And he’s alive. 

“It’s not, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reaching to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“It is, look he—” you insist until the man turns and instead of the Commander’s piercing blue gaze you’re met with brown eyes that flick between you and Jean in confusion. “Oh.” Your face falls and you allow the door to close, turning into Jean’s side.

“You alright?” He tilts his head to catch your expression. It’s pure pain, mouth twitching into a frown and eyes unfocused. Your hand comes up to grip the bottom of his jacket, and after a second he can see you physically force your face back to neutral. 

“Fine,” you nod. He knows you’re faking, that it’s a survival tactic, so he lets it go for now, only steps back to let you in between his body and the cart. 

“Up you go,” he prompts you to step up, feet on the bottom shelf and hands clutching the bar. He starts to push as you ride, walking first then running down the aisle until you finally throw your head back and laugh genuinely. 

He misses the exasperated look an employee gives him as the pair of you whizz past, too preoccupied with your smile.

—

“What do you need three dozen eggs for, anyway?” you ask incredulously, nevertheless opening each carton to inspect before handing them over. 

“They’re a good source of protein,” he defends. “Plus, you always end up running out and coming to me to complain. Ran me dry last time.”

Another playful eye roll. “It’s only ‘cause I messed up my brownies! And I needed them to entice the landlord to finally fix my heater.”

“Your heater’s been broken?”

“Well, it’s not anymore. Espresso brownies work wonders, I’ll have you know.”

You’re trying to brush it off as you normally do when he worries, but the thought of you shivering and blue-lipped keeps him pushing. “How long did you not have heat for? It’s February!”

“Not the point, Jean-bo!” You poke at his cheek and twirl away towards the cheese. 

“It definitely is the point. Come to me next time and I’ll fix it.”

“And lose my deposit?” You scoff, reaching for mozzarella. “Fat chance.”

“Freeze, then.”

You grin back at him. “Why d’you think I came over so much last weekend?”

“Is that all I am to you? A hot water bottle in your time of need?” He feigns hurt, but some pride swells in his chest that he kept you warm, after all. 

“And a cute one, at that. Think fast!”

His hand flashes up to catch the mozzarella you toss deftly. 

“You wound me.”

“Eh, builds character. What’s next?”

Shuffle, shuffle. “Wine and flowers.”

—

Jean watches as you bounce in the driver’s seat, hands almost dainty on the wheel, leaning forward to stare resolutely out the windshield at the darkening road. You’re singing along to some song he doesn’t know that’s playing from the stereo.

It’s so familiar, this Saturday evening ritual with you, and it wraps Jean up like the softest blanket. He knows why you’re always so excited about grocery shopping, and it’s not the cheesecake — it’s the way this routine has centered itself in both your lives. He feels it too, the semblance of normalcy, of domesticity, that you’ve cobbled together with him in between hard weeks and harder nights.

You navigate the bends and odd intersections of his old suburban neighborhood with ease, having driven to his house maybe thousands of times since you were teens. The elementary school passes, then the vet clinic, until finally, your old black sedan pulls into his mom’s driveway alongside her silver minivan.

You shift to neutral and yank on the parking brake habitually, then turn off the car and settle back into your seat.

You’re both quiet for a moment: you staring out the window lost in thought, Jean checking the time on his phone.

“Jean?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever regret enlisting so young?” This catches his attention, turning sharply to look at your contemplative profile.

“Never. It was the right thing to do.” He’s resolute in this conviction, always. The War had seemed to be at its worst when you’d joined up, driven by the promise of Wall Maria’s reclamation and impassioned by your comrades’ fury. It had been the only choice, in his view.

“I do, sometimes,” you admit quietly, eyes downcast to where your fingers twist in your lap. “Maybe then my head wouldn’t be so messed up,” you laugh dryly and tap your temple, then shoot him a sideways glance. “And maybe—” you cut yourself off.

“Maybe what?”

“Never mind.” You’re out of the car so fast Jean almost questions if you moved at all. It reminds him of your natural grace on the ODM gear, how you’d whoop and holler as you hurtled past him among the trees during training. He wonders for a moment when your agility turned from a source of joy to an escape mechanism, then stops himself. He knows exactly when that happened.

—

The grocery store tulips thankfully survived their ordeal in the trunk of your car, bright against Ma Kirschtein’s tile kitchen backsplash as you arrange them in her favorite vase. After a minute of fussing, you take a step back, give a nod of satisfaction, and scoop up the trimmed stems off the counter. The rest of the groceries are already put away, organized so she can reach them without trouble.

It’s as you’re stepping on the trash can pedal to open its lid that the voices from the living room catch your ear. You pause, smiling as mother and son converse.

“Have you been eating enough, Jean-bo? You look so skinny….”

“Ma, I—”

“What am I saying, of course you haven’t. You’d waste away to nothing if you were left to your own devices. I’m so glad that darling girl is there to look after you.”

“Ma, she’s not my keeper—”

“When are you two getting married, again? I could’ve sworn I wrote it down in my book, but I looked the other day and couldn’t find the date anywhere.” She sounds serious. Confused, even, not a hint of teasing in her tone. Must be an off day. A symptom of her early-onset dementia.

“Ma, we’re not even together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been together since high school.” She’s so convinced, so sure, and you squeeze your eyes tight against the reality that you and Jean have only ever been friends. In the adolescent insecurity of high school, in the intensity of military training, in the fucking heat of battle, all you’ve ever shared is friendship.

“Ma, I don’t think… I don’t even think she—” He pauses and your ears strain in the silence to catch his last quiet phrase. “She doesn’t think of me that way.”

You just know, you can tell, he only says it like that to ease her confusion. It’s the opposite, really, he doesn’t think of you that way. Before you can hear more sideways rejection, you toss the flower stems and make a beeline for the bathroom.

—

“What was that movie you were telling me to watch, again?” You ask around a mouthful of spaghetti with sauce fresh from the jar, covering your mouth with one hand.

The pair of you are eating shoulder-to-shoulder on the floor of your apartment two floors above Jean’s. It’s got the decidedly better view out your picture window, complete with the perfect Eastern perspective of the river that cuts through Trost and its famous bridges. It’s this, the third leg of your traditional Saturday evenings together, that makes you feel the most warm.

Jean has the manners to chew and swallow before replying. “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? Connie, Sasha, and I went to see it when they visited last month—”

Your snicker cuts him off and he raises his eyebrows as you roll your eyes and take a sip of wine. “The feet movie? Sasha said it was pretentious.”

“Really? I thought she was too preoccupied with the fact that the theater sold chili fries to pay attention.” He teases back, twirling more pasta onto his fork.

“I’m telling her you said that,” you warn with a jab of your own fork in his direction.

“Snitch.”

“Hey!”

He ducks to avoid your swat to the back of his head, grinning at your pout. “No, but seriously, apart from the feet it’s a good movie.”

“Hmm. I’ll consider putting it on the roster for next week.”

You take a moment to relish the comfortable silence, looking out at the city lights as you chew thoughtfully. His thigh is heavy and warm against yours under the thick knitted blanket his mom gave you last Yule. Your belly is warm and full, your shoulders relaxed in the company of your closest friend, your lungs breathing easily.

Jean says your name quietly and you turn to see him staring pensively down at the plate in his lap. “About what you asked earlier… in the car?”

You nod, eyes wide and mouth serious.

“Sometimes… I do regret it.” He grits the words out through his teeth, like it’s difficult to force the truth into the world. “Not because I regret what we did in the War. But because sometimes I wonder,” his eyes cut to yours for a split second, “I wonder what could’ve been. Without the War.”

You don’t say anything, don’t say you understand, because you know he knows. Instead, you loop your arm into his and lean your head against his shoulder. It takes a moment, a release of breath and the fall of his chest, but eventually he closes his eyes, turns his face into your hair, and allows himself to sink into the what could’ve been. Just for now.

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x female!reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #canon divergent #female!reader #grocery store shenanigans #valkyrie writes #what could've been without the war

[netlex]

American poet Amanda Gorman reads a poem during the 59th Presidential Inauguration at the U.S. Capitol in Washington, Wednesday, Jan. 20, 2021. (AP Photo/Patrick Semansky, Pool) - (video)

The Hill We Climb

“Mr. President, Dr. Biden, Madam Vice President, Mr. Emhoff, Americans and the world:

When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry, a sea we must wade. We’ve braved the belly of the beast. We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace, and the norms and notions of what just is isn’t always justice.

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it. Somehow we do it, somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.

We, the successors of a country and the time where a skinny black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one.

And yes, we are far from polished far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect.

We are striving to forge our union with purpose to compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man.

And so we lift our gaze not to what stands between us, but what stands before us. We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.

We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another. We seek harm to none and harmony for all.

Let the globe, if nothing else say, this is true. That even as we grieved, we grew. That even as we hurt, we hoped. That even as we tired, we tried. That we’ll forever be tied together victorious. Not because we will never, again, no defeat, but because we will never, again, sow division.

Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid.

If we’re to live up to her own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made, that is the promise to Glade, the hill we climb, if only we dare, it’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit, it’s the past we step into and how we repair it.

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it, would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy, and this effort very nearly succeeded. But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated.

In this truth, in this faith, we trust. For while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us.

This is the era of just redemption. We feared in its inception, we did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour, but within it we found the power to author a new chapter to offer hope and laughter to ourselves.

So while once we asked, ‘How could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?’ Now we assert: 'How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be: a country that is bruised, but whole, benevolent, but bold, fierce, and free.

We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation.

Our blunders become their burdens, but one thing is certain: If we merge mercy with might and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright.

So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left, with every breath my bronze-pounded chest. We will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.

We will rise through the golden hills of the West. We will rise from the windswept Northeast, where our forefathers first realized revolution. We will rise from the lake-run cities of the Midwestern states. Will rise from the sun-baked South. We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.

In every known nook of our nation, in every corner called our country, our people, diverse and beautiful, will emerge, battered and beautiful.

When day comes we step out of the shade of flame and unafraid. The new dawn blooms as we free it, for there was always light if only we’re brave enough to see it, if only we’re brave enough to be it.”

#amanda gorman #poetry #united states #presidential inauguration #2021 #history #reading

[thehypercutstudios]

Bww MoD Act Scene - The Gang meets a Duo of Key Mice

This is for my bww au called Masters of Disguises, so yeah big info is in here.

Anyway, here’s an act scene of Who is the Ratacker? Story where the gang meets two key mice, who knew about a magical brooch that is shaped like a mouse and what the gang is dealing with after the first encounter with Ratacker and his goons. So yeah, Enjoy!

*Scene cuts in what appears to be a battle that is done with the goons retreating from one of our heroes Cal, who has taken form of a Double Trouble thanks to the Mysterious Mouse like invader*

Cal (Thingamajig): That would teach those guys not to fool with Thingamajig and friends, if I ever see you guys again I will give Checkmate a different meaning! *laughs like a maniac, and then he calms down for a realization*…Did I just act like I am Some kid hyped up on sugar?

Attilio (ScramTumble): *tries to get up but cannot because of his eggshell* Yeah, *oof* that childish behavior is something you gotta get *uff!* used to. *He got lifted up behind by Bruce, who is in Itsy-Bitsy Elf* T-Thanks whoever help me up.

Bruce (Dustfuzz): You are welcome Attilio, even though I am small like a mouse, I do carry some strength.

Attilio (ScramTumble): *looks at Bruce* Oh there you are Bruce! I thought that you turned invisible and-

Cal (Thingamajig): Ohh my Goodness Gracious! Bruce’s an Adorable Mouse! *he grabs Bruce and starts to get lovey dovey on him like he found a cute puppy* Awww! Look at you! You are so Cute that I just Gotta *makes little gibberish noises*

Bruce (Dustfuzz): Cal Please! Stop it!

Attilio (ScramTumble): Cal! Your fingers are squishing him! *Then, Cal snaps out of his childish humor and lets go of Bruce*

Cal (Thingamajig): I am Sorry! I just do not know what just came over me!

Bruce (Dustfuzz): That’s alright Cal, we all learn from our mistakes and must learn to control our new personalities.

Leo (Geek Meek): *offscreen* Bruce’s right, *scene cuts to Leo who is in X-Ray Ape Form walking to the trio* according to my brain, I just realized and remembered that each form comes with a personality and the ones we are in right now can be hard to control, yet with enough Practice we can handle new personalities.

Cal (Thingamajig): Wow, you sounded smart like me! That is awesome! *clears throat to not get excited in a childish manner* Sorry about that, but anyway, we should get everyone here and discuss a plan. All we need is- *looks at the left and sees…* Eis! *scene cuts to Eis, who has peeked out from hiding* Yay! Eis just won a game of hide and seek! Hooray! *shakes head and clears throat* I mean, there you are.

Eis: Cal? Is that you? Why are you a Double Trouble?

Cal (Thingamajig): I was wondering the same thing, I was using my King Piece brooch to turn into Royal Pain and all of the sudden, I got turn into Thingamajig instead! I mean, What the heck is up with my brooch?!

Attilio (ScramTumble): Same with my Turtle Shell Earrings, but I got turned into a Lucky Egg!

Lucy (Destructive Diva): and so did our other Stones of Forms, *scene cuts to the remaining inhabitants getting to the conversation* but how did this happen? Why didn’t we turn into the costumes that resembled the jewelry?

Haoyu (Cactus Critter): How come when I used the Leg Warmers I didn’t turn into Bat-Boy?! If this is a prank, I will prank them back!

Cal (Thingamajig): I do not know…I was wondering the same thing.

??? (Brooklyn Accent): Perhaps we can help out what is your issues.

Jose (Gourd Guardian): who said that?

??? (Italian Accent): We did-a, you Poompkin Pooncher.

*scene cuts to the inhabitants looking behind then and there they see Two Key Mices, one being short and chubby with a Brown Newspaper Boy Hat, and a Brooklyn accent, the other being skinny and long with a plaid scarf and a Italian accent* *scene cuts to Cass who is her box Fox form yelps and turns into a box*

Cal (Thingamajig): Oh Shoot! Rats! *flails his arms around like crazy as a ghost like creature starts to come out of him with a flamethrower*

??? (Brooklyn Accent): Hey hey, we don’t want any trouble ok, or what? And yuh shouldn’t be startled now. Yuh got me so fahr?

???: (Italian Accent) Fratello RRRick is-a rrright-a, as a Double Trrrouble if you get prrrovoked-a, yourrr clone wil-l get violent!

Rick: I agreed wit' my Brudder Tony here.

Cal (Thingamajig): *calms down as it gets Back into him* Sorry about that, it’s just that-

Rick: Your first time bein' a Double Trouble? Yeah, we heard you.

Cal (Thingamajig): *shocked* Wait, how did you know that?

Tony: Me and my Fratello woie watching you fight against de goons and you woie aving trrrouble with yourrr new forrrms.

Rick: And dat attackuh reminds us of our species back in de Valley of Doawhs.

Eis: Huh, no wonder why the attacker looks like Key Mice…but why did he sound familiar?

Fiona (Sea Pearl): Key Mice? I heard about those costumes, they are mice with keys for tails.

Tony: Tat is-a Correcto, Signorina.

Rick: And we Key Mice know about every Costume Species and de Jewelry dat has de stones of fawhms in dem.

Sana (Blizzard Thing): so if you knew about this, then can you tell us why did our jewelry malfunction and give us different costumes?

Rick: Sawhry, we didn’t have a clue becawze we were too busy peekin' and hidin' durin' de battle. Right?

Tony: Si. Tat rrreminds me, did any of you ave seen a brrrooch tat is-a shaped like a mouse?

*scene cuts to everyone looking at each other for answers until…*

Cal (Thingamajig): *he is on a desk for some reason* Oh! Oh! I do! I do! Pick me! Pick me!

Tony: you do? Please tel-l oos-a, Sig Soorrresh. *Scene cuts to a close up of Thingamajig which the desk is gone now, weird*

Cal (Thingamajig): Well, back when I was fighting with my own battle technique, *scene shows a flashback of the Battle where Thingamajig is fighting like a intellectual does and he saw something on Ratacker’s Chest; the Mouse Brooch* I saw something on the invader’s chest, it looked like some sort of mouse but dark purple. *flashback ends with a zoom-out close-up of Thingamajig* it’s like the mouse is a brooch or something, I wasn’t paying attention because I got punched by a Big shadowy Double Trouble.

*scene cuts to the two key mice gasping in shock*

Rick: Could it be, or what?

Tony: I’m Afrrraid so, boot ow cano tis be?

Rick: Yeah, I thought dat he stole it away from Sandman!

Eis: What are you talking about?

Emma (Baroness Blades): and who is this he you speak of?

*scene cuts to the two Mice looking at each other and then they look at the inhabitants*

Tony: De e we speak of is-a none other tano-a…

Rick: De Boogeyman.

*scene cuts to everyone gasping*

Everyone: The Boogeyman?!

Leo (Geek Meek): I knew it! He must have corrupted the mouse brooch so he can negatize the Victim that got turned into the attacker who ambushed us with goons and I bet he is the one who turned us into this.

Rick: Dat’s Cawhrect, Monkey Boy.

Tony: And also too chaotic too, if it gets into de wrrrong ands!

Eis: what do you mean?

Rick: Oh boy how do we break into dis, or what? Yuh see, de Mouse Cal saw on de rat Nega boss was de mouse Brooch. Right?

Tony: Si.

Iben (Freeze-Dragon): and What does the Mouse Brooch do?

Tony: It al-lows de wearrroi to toorrrn into a key mouse.

Rick: And as a Key Mouse, yuh have de ability of gainin' accesses tuh random areas when needed.

Haoyu (Cactus Critter): wow, that is good for pranks- I mean, secret getaways.

Tony: Si, boot it cano also cano be morrre tano tat.

Rick: It can be also effective tuh Costume Crystals and Stones of Fawhms, which manipulates dem tuh make different costumes.

Tony: And it should not be a prrroblem to toorrrn back to norrrmal-a.

*scene cuts to Cal aka Thingamajig with the others as he steps in*

Cal (Thingamajig): Let me try it out, I wanted to turn back into a human so I can do gentlemanly things and be smart again! *closes eyes* Quad Cannon! Game’s Over! *nothing happened* Am I back?

Yuri (Friendly Mummy): Maybe do what Lucy says when she is turning back to normal.

Cal (Thingamajig): Oh Ok, that makes sense. Double Trouble, Back to Original! *nothing happened…again* did that work? *opens his eyes and looks* Oh Come On! *Rick gets to Cal’s Brooch* Why isn’t it working? *scene cuts to Rick looking at the brooch, which he sees a Lock symbol on it*

Rick: Oh dear, I tink I have found de problem. Ya' dig?

Cal (Thingamajig): What is it? Did I dent it? Did it cracked? And how can I dig with no shovel?!

Rick: It appears dat your jewelries have gone into costume lock mode.

Attilio (ScramTumble): our stones of forms have a lock mode?

Tony: No, boot it is-a what we fearrred of what ap-pens to de brrrooch if it gets into de wrrrong ands.

Rick: Yuh see, when a Stone of fawhm gets cawhrupted, de powers of it will altuh and be different from de regular. Ya' dig? In dat case, it can gain access tuh your Stones of fawhms, malfuncshuns dem, and locks it so de wearuh do not turn back into human again. Okay?

Cass (Cube Pup): You Mean we are going to stay like this forever?!

Rick: Not exactly, de only way tuh turn back tuh nawhmal is tuh purify de Mouse Brooch and its wearuh.

Tony: Which it is-a in de ands of de Negatized Victim-a.

Leo (Geek Meek): and according to my newfound calculations, the Rat could be anywhere in this theater which his Location is unknown.

*everyone groans in disappointment*

Yuri (Friendly Mummy): how do we find him? and how to find me when I cannot Control my new powers since I cannot snap my fingers?

Rick: *looks at the spot Yuri is on* Well, Invisible People can also clap deir hands if dey cannot snap deir fingers, try dat.

Yuri (Friendly Mummy): Ok then. *claps hands and she is back to visible as she looks at herself* oh wow, it works. Thanks!

Haoyu (Cactus Critter): But where is this Madman of a Keymaster at anyway? I wanna prank him so bad! *scene cuts to Eis thinking after the words Key and Man is heard and then…*

Eis: Guys! I think I found out who is the rat looking attacker, it must have been Dan Dennis! *everyone looks at him*

Tony: You know im?

Eis: Yeah, he works at my workplace and he is a Locksmith, something Must have happened to him that caused him to become a Nega boss!

Rick: So dat’s why yuh menshun dat de Ratackuh sounds familiar. Okay?

Cal (Thingamajig): well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go find this Ratacker and make him pay! *shakes head* I mean, turn us back to normal and purify the negatized mouse brooch!

Tony: Aspettare! You cano-not go face de Rrratackoi in a smal-l grrroup-a, e wil-l manipoolate yourrr stones of forrrms to make you toorrrn into a dif-foient costoomes you cano-not andle!

Leo (Geek Meek): Tony does have a point, I remembered that The Ratacker looks like a cyborg and cyborgs have better intelligence, the glass eye of his can track anyone who has a stone of form down, unless we can get another group to make his glass eye not track down our jewelries easily.

Rick: Hey, I like de sound of de idea of anudder group of costumes as a distracshun tuh de ratackuh’s special eye, yuh might be onto somethin' Kid! Okay?

Tony: Si Fratello!

Everyone: *agrees with Leo*

Cal (Thingamajig): even though I am still my clever self, Leo does make a good point as a X-Ray Ape! Maybe you can be my substitute for now.

Leo (Geek Meek): Thanks Mister Suresh, and I would love to be your substitute for your smartness until we are back to being normal humans again! *he and Thingamajig shakes hands, which Thingamajig shakes like crazy* Uhhh Caaaaal yoooou caaaaan stop noooow! *Cal stops and lets go of Leo’s Hand*

Cal (Thingamajig): Sorry.

Rick: Alright everyone, I will get de map of de deatuh so we can track down de Ratackuh while Tony here will gadder some costumes tuh help us! Okay?

Everyone: Ok!

Tony: Bellisimo! Tat sounds-a good, Fratello. I wil-l get some costoomes to elp oos out on tis case! *uses his key on a area and it opens a door* torno subito! *steps in the door and closes*

Yuri (Friendly Mummy): What did he say?

Rick: He says dat he will be right back in Greaser.

Leo (Geek Meek): Which greaser is a Brooklyn slang for Italian.

Yuri (Friendly Mummy): Wow, interesting! But do you think Eis will be ok?

Jose (Gourd Guardian): Yup, I am sure he will, he has faced one of his friend when he was Negatized to a bulldog monster, maybe he can face his friend who got turn into a Key Mouse Nega Boss.

*scene cuts to Eis holding and looking at the key Ratacker dropped and it shows the key*

Eis: Hang in there Dan, we are coming.

*End of Act scene*

#Balan Wonderworld #bww #balanposting #bww au #bww MoD #bww masters of disguises #Balan Wonderworld au