“Oh hey, we’re in Lazytown, right? So that Rotten guy’s gotta be around here somewhere.”
“Rotten? He’s the town’s villain right? I think I’ve heard of him.”
“You’ve probably heard him too. That guy talks to himself all the time. He’s such a freak.”
Sportacus, who had been doing push ups behind a wall in the park, froze. He wasn’t usually one for eavesdropping or spying, but the conversation the three strangers were having as they walked by struck a nerve. He crouched low behind the wall and popped his head up, watching them.
“Right? I remember seeing him in Mayhemtown once. He even walks like a freak,” One stranger, a man in a grey shirt, gave an exaggerated frown and hunched his shoulders up to his ears, almost waddling with his knees bent. The other two laughed at the inaccurate display. Sportacus’ eyes narrowed.
The second stranger, a woman with a large white hat, giggled, “I think I have seen him then! He comes into my shop sometimes. He always makes these weird faces when he’s looking around.” She scrunched up her own features and crossed her eyes. This was met with more laughter. Sportacus tried very hard not to grind his teeth.
“That’s so him!” cried the third stranger, even though it wasn’t, “I’ve heard he’s pretty stupid for a villain too. Lets little kids beat him. Lives underground like a mole.” He shook his head, “People like that ought to be put away.”
That was the last straw.
Sportacus leapt over the wall he had been hiding behind and ran at the strangers. He flipped over the three of them and landed in front of them, hands on his hips and fake smile plastered on his face, “Hello there!”
They all jumped at his sudden appearance. The man in the grey shirt pointed, “Hey, you’re that blue sport guy! Sporta-somethin’.”
“I’m Sportacus,” Sportacus said, jabbing a finger at his chest, “I’m Lazytown’s hero.”
The woman with the while hat snorted, “We were just talking about your freakish villain,” she giggled unkindly, “Looks like this town doesn’t need you too much. That guy makes his own problems.”
“About that…” Sportacus waked up closer to them, standing a foot away, “I don’t think you three know Robbie at all.”
The third stranger laughed, “What’s to know? He’s a weirdo, end of story.”
Sportacus hummed, reaching up to scratch his cheek with his left hand, “Well for one thing, my husband,” he flexed the fingers of his left hand deliberately, “Is a very smart man. He makes all his own inventions and his own clothes. He’s kind and caring and never makes fun of people for things they can’t help.”
All three strangers were staring at him at this point, no longer smiling, moving their gazes between him and the ring on his finger.
Sportacus forced out a laugh, “Actually, speaking of tics, I have one too,” he said, stepping even closer to them and dropping all mirth from his face, “Whenever I hear people talk badly about my loved ones, I can’t help but want to break their noses. Weird, isn’t it?” He lowered his voice, “In fact, the only thing that stops me is if they leave Lazytown very, very fast.”
That was all it took to make the strangers bolt. Sportacus smirked to himself and walked away, absently rubbing his thumb over his ring.
I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING ON THAT FLUFF CHAPTER BUT NOOOOOOO, YOU GUYS WANTED FUCKING WHITE HAT //DIES (jk though the fluff chappy is on its way too eventually, this didn’t take me long)
As I mentioned before in the tags, this snippet doesn’t actually encompass the extent of how horrid WH is (in fact, it’s actually rather mild) as I really don’t know how to translate his horribleness to you without spoiling the whole thing, so uh. Here you go for now. (And on another note, this fic’s going to take a bit of setup with some other fics I’m working on, so it’s not going to be posted for quite a while)
(this is also going off that cool theory that BH can see out of pictures of himself sagdfhjkllhgf)
(You get a long snippet because it is a very long fic and won’t be posted in quite a while (this is also very rough and unpolished so sadfgdgh just ignore me))
To hear a knock on the door wasn’t unusual.
Well, unless there were no clients scheduled for that day. Then you had to be wary.
There were three delicate little taps. If door knocks could sound sophisticated, this was a perfect example.
Hell, Flug just happened to be passing by, blueprints under his arm. He wouldn’t have even heard it if he weren’t just on his way to the lab. The doctor’s head tilted slightly at the noise, then he gave the door a puzzled frown. That’s….. odd.
He approached slowly, contemplating whether or not he should set the blueprints aside and have his attack ray at the ready…. just to be safe, that’s exactly what he did. One hand held inside his labcoat and gripping the concealed weapon, Flug slowly opened the door. “Um… Hel-?”
His jaw dropped before he could even finish the greeting, eyes widening with confusion and shock.
The man that stood outside wore an outfit nearly identical to Black Hat’s, albeit the colors were reversed, and his skin was a much lighter grey, as well as having an oval-shaped monocle covering his right eye as opposed to Black Hat’s circular left. Instead of a tie, he wore an old-fashioned steinkirk cravat with a blue-gemmed brooch pinned in the middle, identical to the gem at the top of that marble-looking scepter in his hand. And were those fucking swan feathers in his hat? Who the hell is this eccentrically dressed doppelganger?
The man shot Flug an overly cheery grin, baring pointed fangs that would’ve been perfectly white if not for that bluish tint. “Ah, hello, my good man! Top of the morning to you!” He bowed slightly and removed his hat in greeting, revealing a smaller hat underneath. “Do tell me, is Black Hat around? I was dearly hoping to see him today!”
“….. Uhhh…….” Flug found himself unable to come up with a response, momentarily struck dumb. A million questions flooded into his mind. Who is this guy? What is he doing here? Is he dangerous? Why does he look so much like Black Hat? How do they know each other? Why has Flug never heard of him before? So many unanswered questions.
“Left you speechless already, have I?” The man chuckled, taking a step closer. Flug’s grip on his gun tightened in response. That was an exact phrase he’s heard from Black Hat. Was that coincidental?
Not taking his eyes off the stranger for even a second, Flug stepped back, calling down the hall, “Mr.Black Hat?”
“What is it, doctor?” Came the distant response from Black Hat’s office.
Flug watched the stranger carefully as Black Hat’s voice became heard, and he did not like the way his expression twitched upon hearing him. It was just a momentary slip, but something tells the scientist these two aren’t exactly friends…. “There’s… uh…. someone here to see you….”
“What?” He must’ve poked his head out the door, because his voice was somewhat closer now, and the hint of suspicion in his tone became clear. “Who? I wasn’t aware of any meetings booked.”
“I, um, don’t know who….”
The click of shoes could be heard as Black Hat made his way down the hall, and the stranger stood taller in anticipation, probably oblivious to how fucking smug he looked, Flug figured, frowning.
The first thing Black Hat saw was Flug’s guarded stance, taking immediate notice of how he looked ready to whip out a weapon at a moment’s notice. Wasting no time in striding to the doctor’s side, his suspicious glare turned to the source of Flug’s wariness. “Who–”
His entire body went stiff. The first look on his face was one of utter shock, before twisting into a look of anger, fangs baring in a hostile snarl. “White Hat.”
“How do you do, my friend!” White Hat chirped, tipping his hat again. “It’s been far too lon–”
“…….. Rude.” He commented to himself, face inches from the now-closed door.
“Sir….?” Flug said quietly, more confused than ever. “What was that about….?”
Black Hat was fuming. There was literally smoke swirling around him as he paced back and forth, mumbling to himself. “That… That thing…. has the audacity to show its face around here–! What could it possibly want–!?”
There was a polite little couple of knocks, and the demon looked about ready to laser-vision the door to a crisp. With great disgust in every movement, he actually opened the door, much to Flug’s surprise.
“Hello again!” Came the cheery voice. “Going to actually let me talk this time or–”
“…. Why did you open it again if you were just going to-?” Flug’s cut his question off when more knocks came, and Black Hat held up a finger signalling for him to wait as he turned to open the door once more.
“Did you really just open the door to slam it in my face again?” White Hat questioned, arms crossed and foot tapping, unimpressed.
“Why yes, yes I did.” Black Hat replied with a shit-eating grin. “Far more satisfying the second time, let me tell you.”
“Well.” The second eldritch said, tapping his scepter on the ground and leaning back, returning to that irritatingly smug expression. “If you’re done playing games, I would like to take a gander at some of your fine merchandise.”
“Our merchandise.” Black Hat repeated, skepticism written all over his features.
The doppelganger seemed to anticipate his suspicion. His grin widened. “But of course! You are the best of the best, aren’t you? I would expect nothing less.”
“We don’t sell to heroes.”
Hero? Flug almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was tempted to interrupt, ask for an explanation, but something made him bite his tongue. He wanted to see where this would go.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not your typical hero now, then is it?” White Hat went on, persistent. He took a step closer, Black Hat pulling the door inward slightly in suspicious response. “Now, how would it look from a professional standpoint if you turned a customer such as myself, hmm?”
“I have no qualms about turning away such trash, actually.”
“Oh, but I–”
……… ……….. ………..
“What a child….” White Hat commented judgingly under his breath. Once more, he knocked.
Sigh. He’s not going to give up so easily. That much, Black Hat absolutely knew.
“Sir….?” Flug said hesitantly, stepping towards the obviously-frustrated demon glaring at the door. “Shouldn’t we just ignore him now….?”
Black Hat took a deep breath. “……. It’s not that simple.”
There was another knock, and Flug’s boss groaned in frustration.
“Let me guess.” The lighter eldritch said in a flat tone as the door finally opened just a smidge, “More satisfying the third time?”
“Immensely so.” Black Hat grinned hatefully from the crack in the door. “Which means you should realize that you are not welcome here.”
Before the demon could close the door one final time, White Hat stopped it with his hand.
“Tut tut, don’t be that way.” White Hat’s voice took on a new level of eerie hostility, as did his face, though both still held their dominantly ‘polite’ tones. He leaned in as close as he could, staring Black Hat directly in the eyes. “I’m being generously civil as of this moment, my dear Black Hat. But I have a limit to my patience too, you know.”
When all he got in response was that mistrustful narrow-of-the-eyes, White Hat’s grin grew impossibly larger. “Just let me in, Blackie.” He continued. “Surely it would be better than the alternative. Our little spats can get so dreadfully tiresome, after all, and surely you wouldn’t want to damage this absolutely wonderful house!” He accented the comment with a wave of his arms, patronizingly admiring the building aesthetic. “I am not leaving until I get what any other customer would get, and if I have to resort to violence, I can’t guarantee that there wouldn’t be any….” His visible eye flicked back to Black Hat. “…. casualties.”
There was a dangerous flash in the darker demon’s eyes. One that almost seemed intent on cutting the other’s throat.
….. But are the repercussions worth it? He certainly doesn’t want to start anything here of all places.
He almost glanced back at Flug, but stopped himself as to not tip off White Hat. The villain bit his tongue in frustration.
“……… You are here to browse our products?” He said finally, voice low and eyes narrowing to slits. “Nothing more?”
“But of course! What more would I possibly need from you?” White Hat chirped, all too happy with himself and twirling his scepter in hand.
“……………. What more, indeed………” Black Hat growled under his breath. Reluctantly, he stepped back and pulled the door all the way open so his counterpart could enter. Aside from Flug’s jaw hitting the floor in shock, the doctor remained deathly silent.
This can’t be good.
“So!” White Hat chirped again, almost bouncing in his tracks as he strode inside like he owned the place. His gaze flicked to every picture, every piece of furniture, every detail he could soak up in as little time as possible. He then clicked a heel and gracefully spun around to face Black Hat and his scientist. “Where might you keep your best products?”
Black Hat snorted. “Have a little patience, will you. I need a word with my employee first.” He added under his breath, “You did come in uninvited after all….” With that, he led Flug down one of their many hallways, leaving White to mingle in the entryway.
Flug’s confusion was ever growing.
“Oookay, Mr.Black Hat….” He whispered as he was being ushered just out of the other demon’s sight, Black Hat glancing around the corner one more time to make sure White stayed put. The lighter eldritch had taken to 'admiring’ one of Black Hat’s self-portraits. Good. Whether or not he knew Black Hat could see out of the image’s eyes was uncertain, but as long as the villain could keep tabs on him, he felt somewhat calmer. “W-What is going on?”
The doctor’s inquiry grabbed his attention. With a frustrated sigh, he faced him. “Look. I cannot explain everything to you right now. But that thing…..” He made a vague gesture in White Hat’s general direction, “Whatever it says it’s here for, it’s not here for that.”
Black Hat caught glimpse from the portrait of White Hat waving at it, indicating awareness of the little 'spying’ trick. The supervillain could only groan again in his annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose area. “Flug, we must be careful.”
“Are you saying he might attack…?” Flug asked, quirking an eyebrow slightly.
“Ehhh….. I don’t think so……. Not now, at least……” Black Hat grumbled, casting wary glances down the hall. “Not its style to strike right away….. but I want you to have this, just in case.” Reaching into his coat, Black Hat pulled out a pocket-size standard picture of himself and handed it to Flug.
“Charming, but I already have one in my wallet.” Flug joked as he took the photo.
“Just…. Keep it out of sight, but somewhere you can easily pull it out should you need me and I’m for any reason not nearby.” He looked down, and his voice lowered darkly. “I… I would just feel far better if I know I can keep an eye on you…”
Flug was about to make some joke about Black Hat worrying too much, but judging from that look on his face, maybe now wasn’t the best time…. “…. Okay.” The scientist said quietly, slipping the picture into his pocket.
With a slow nod, that seemed to make the demon slightly more at ease. “Good.” Turning again to head back towards that pain in the neck, Black Hat said, “We’d best not keep it waiting. The sooner this is over with, the better…..”
“So this lab of yours…” White Hat chatted as they walked, Black Hat placed firmly between him and the scientist he was speaking to, “… you keep your inventions there?”
“J-Just a small assortment of our better-selling ones, to have handy for customers looking for our best works. Like yourself.” Flug replied, keeping his tone as polite and professional as he could. “Y-You did say you didn’t want anything big, right?”
“Yes yes, just looking for something small and easily portable.” White Hat smiled back. “I’m sure I’ll have a better idea of what I want when I see the selection.”
“And what of you, friend?” The creature chirped, suddenly slinging an arm around Black Hat’s shoulders. “You’ve been awful quiet!”
At the contact, Black Hat went completely rigid for a split second before giving a fierce growl and pushing his arm away. “I have nothing to say to you.” He snarled, “I just want you in and out of here as quickly as pos–”
Demencia’s voice cut through one of the hallway intercoms, quieting the trio. “We’ve got a few customers here demanding to see you. Something about a product you sold them not working properly or malfunctioning or something? I know you usually like to be the one to handle stuff involving company guarantees, sooo…..”
Black Hat was dead silent for a full ten seconds at least. Slowly, he turned to White Hat. “When this day started, we were supposed to get no guests today.” He spoke quietly and suspiciously, eyes narrowing, “Now we have two unexpected visitors dropping by mere tens of minutes between each other. Why do I have the sneaking feeling that you have something to do with this supposed 'malfunction’?”
“Me?” White Hat chided, acting confused. “How am I to know? You’ve never been good with feelings, dear friend.”
At this point Black Hat looked about ready to sever this guy’s head from his body. But before he could get another word in, Demencia spoke up once more. “I’m still here, you know.”
Again, the demon hesitated, eyes locked onto White Hat. “…….”
“You’d best go deal with that.” White Hat smiled, looking ever-so-innocent. “Breaking guarantees on big-name products like yours must be a pretty big deal, after all. I’m sure your fine doctor can assist me on his own.”
It is a big deal. Their products have a 99% success rate. So what are the chances of one failing on the same day White Hat just happens to drop by?
Once again, he hesitated. It would be important to see these unsatisfied customers right away, but…
The villain glanced at Flug warily.
“It’s okay,” He said, playing it off as casual while also very subtly patting his pocket. “I can finish up helping this one. You’d better go sort that out.”
“…………………… Fine.” Black Hat growled reluctantly, stepping back. Casting White Hat a pointed glance, he snapped sharply, “I will be back as soon as possible.” With that, the demon was off in a puff of smoke. He didn’t like this one bit.
Flug watched him go, nodding, then turned his attention to White Hat. Admittedly, with Black Hat suddenly gone, the unease that came with this mystery figure suddenly felt far more apparent, but the doctor at least managed to conceal that well enough. Straightening his back, he gave another polite smile. “Well, my lab’s only a few more doors down. Just follow me.”
“As you can see, we’ve got quite a fine selection to choose from.”
Flug had laid out a series of small, intricately-designed devices on one of the lab tables to display for White Hat. A Liquiflux, disintegration ray, smoke bombs, all sorts of things. The eldritch had been looking over each one thoughtfully, picking one up, examining it, then placing it down to see another one while Flug described each one.
“I specialize in handrays of sorts, one of our most recent big successes being the gravitational distortion ray…” Flug explained, gesturing to the device in question, “Of course, most of our merchandise is, uh, villain-oriented, b-but I’m sure you could find something for whatever suits y-your needs, and–”
“You’re quite passionate about your work, aren’t you?” White Hat spoke up suddenly as he examined one of the smoke bombs.
“…. U-Um. Yes?” Wouldn’t that be kind of obvious?
“It really shows.” White Hat cast him a fanged grin. “Your inventions are really quite impressive.”
“Ah, t-thank you…”
White Hat looked the doctor up and down. Time to do some reactionary experimenting.
“You really should expand your horizons. It’s a shame all that brilliance is confined to this one little company.”
Flug could feel his muscles tense. He had to fight to keep himself from fidgeting with his fingers. “I-I, um, I like where I’m at. If you, uh, if you wanted to talk about the products–”
“What are you doing after work?”
White Hat stepped forward, giving him a devilish grin. “Perhaps you would let me take you out to dinner. We could talk more about science, business, whatever you want… Maybe I could even offer you a position among my own ranks. I would be blessed to have you.” That last part was added with a wink.
Now the scientist felt a spark of annoyance, on top of surprise. Is he serious? What kind of a person just asks something like that out of the blue so randomly?
Flug immediately stepped back in response to White Hat’s advance. “With all due respect, I do not fraternize with customers.”
“But you fraternize with employers, now don’t you?”
At that, the doctor’s whole body stiffened. Eyes narrowing, he took another step back and looked away, gaze falling onto the inventions displayed on the table. “If you are not interested in discussing the merchandise, then I must ask you to get out of my lab.”
White Hat only became more pleased with each passing second. He found he was quite enjoying poking at the doctor’s nerves. “Oh, but I’m very interested in the merchandise. As such, you can’t even imagine how fascinated I must be with the brilliant mind behind it all.”
The demon drew closer, a strange look in his eyes that made Flug feel all that much more uneasy. “Blackie made a smart move, recruiting you.”
When White Hat reached out a hand to lightly feel Flug’s bag, the doctor completely froze. Reacting almost immediately, he batted the other’s arm away in a heartbeat.
Okay. If this guy is anything like Black Hat, Flug knew he wouldn’t stand a chance if this turned into a physical confrontation.
But he knew one invention that might be a saving grace.
“My, my.” White Hat chuckled, voice like silk. “So he has a bit of fire after all.”
White Hat made another move towards him, and Flug reacted as quickly as he possibly could, reaching for the Liquiflux on the table.
Not quick enough.
This creature’s reflexes were lightning fast, and he slammed his hand down on Flug’s before it could reach its target.
“White Hat. Let go of me.” Flug demanded, glaring at the eldritch pinning his arm down. He hoped the other couldn’t smell fear like Black Hat could, nor hear the pounding of his heart as panic started to grip him with icy claws. But most of all, Flug hoped the demon had not noticed his free hand subtly slipping into his pocket and pulling out a small photo.
“Now now, you’re not being reasonable.” White Hat purred with amusement, “I was just having a friendly talk, is all. You were the one reaching for a weapo–”
He halted his statement when he felt knife-like claws gripping his shoulder.
“Weren’t you just leaving, White Hat?” Black Hat’s harsh voice asked, a rhetorical question of course, and with a very strained grin that clearly portrayed his strong desire to tear his counterpart to shreds.
White Hat glanced over his shoulder. Black Hat almost seemed to be shaking with rage. How hilarious.
Now’s not the time to provoke him, though. That can wait till later - this is just a test run, after all.
“Ah, yes.” The lighter demon said, brushing the furious villain’s hand off his shoulder like dust and letting go of Flug in the process, Black Hat immediately positioning himself between them. “In fact, your doctor was just showing me what I should purchase.” He reached for the Liquiflux, exchanging it for a rather large wad of cash that had been concealed in his coat, then handed the money to Black Hat with a grin. “This should be more than enough to suffice.”
Black Hat knocked the money right out of his hand and onto the floor, bristling with rage. “Just get out.”
One glance at the scattered bills. One glance at Flug. One glance at Black Hat. “…… As you wish.” He replied smoothly. “Thank you for your services.”
At that, the lighter eldritch finally took his leave. Out the window in a form of cloud-like smoke, mind you. What’s with eldritch demons and the smoke thing?
Black Hat took a long, tense deep breath in, exhaling just as slowly as he tried to keep his rage in check. Very slowly still, he turned to Flug, glancing at his arm. “Did it hurt you?”
“Ah, no– W-Well, I mean, not badly–”
Flug stopped mumbling as his boss carefully took his arm, rolling up the sleeves to see the dark bruises his counterpart left behind. The demon shivered as he again pushed down the urge to completely rage.
“…..Black Hat…..” The scientist said softly, concerned. “….. Who– What exactly was that?”
“………… It’s a long story.” Black Hat growled quietly, eyes narrowing. “They never should have called upon a demon to do a hero’s work.”
You know what that last one was really sad so here: Tony is a champion equestrian. Steve is totally uninterested in horses but Peggy, who loves dressage, drags him to events because he lost a bet one time and she continues to hold it over him gleefully. Tony sees this adorable, tiny blond and mistakes him for a jockey and starts talking horses with him. Steve LIES THROUGH HIS TEETH because Tony is also adorable. Tony is even more adorable when he realizes his mistake and blushes and apologizes.
Listen, give me Peggy Carter on a horse. Oh my god, the very thought. I’m weak in the knees. For that matter, Haley Atwell on a horse. Jeezums, be still my beating heart.
On to the AU!
Tony would totally be a great equestrian. It fits his background so well, such a prim and proper thing for the son of a rich business empire. I picture him riding English style, but having always secretly envied Western style riders because there’s something about cowboys that makes him a little hot and bothered. Can you imagine him in those riding pants? Tony’s perfect bubble butt and the pants.
And he’s damn good at riding, too. He’s small enough, but strong enough, and he loves his horse. He loves tech, but he also spends his off days designing riding equipment and he’s in the stables every day to ride and care for Excelsior, his chestnut gelding.
And then there’s city boy Steve who thinks that the only place horses ought to be is far away from him, but he loves Peggy, even if it didn’t work out between them romantically, and he’ll literally bend over backwards for her. So he puts up with her “dumb overgrown carrot-eating dogs” because she begs him to come and see her perform, and then he sees this amazing guy and his horse jumping the fences and something in him just lurches and he’s not the only one.
Once Tony clears the end of the track and is waiting for his scoring announcement, he notices a little guy standing off to the side with Peggy Carter. His first thought is “new competition” and his second thought is “yes please.” He dismounts and trots Excelsior over because he’s gonna make a good impression on this amazing little jockey and clearly he is because jockey looks like he’s about to swallow his tongue.
“You here with Peggy? You in one of the events?”
“I, uh, yeah. Yeah. Yes I am. I am in an event.”
And Peggy, who’s just walked up behind him, grins and knows she’s going to have fun. “Tony, lovely to see you. This is my friend Steve. He loves horses and racing.”
“Oh? Nice to meet you, Steve. What event are you entered in?”
“I’m…I’m in a horse event. With horses.”
“He runs the barrels,” Peggy supplies and Steve resists the urge to turn and give her a look because what the hell does that even mean?
“Yep,” he says instead. “Barrels.”
“Ooh, a Western rider,” Tony says, and he has a niggling suspicion, but Peggy looks like the cat who got the canary and Steve is clearly trying hard, so he goes with it a little while longer. “I’d love to meet your horse.”
“Right. My horse. My horse who is named…uh, Rembrandt.”
“Like the toothpaste?”
“Like the artist.”
“So can I meet him?”
“Sure he’s…he’s right over there.” Steve gestures at a horse about twenty feet away hitched to the fence, and Tony resists the urge to giggle, because that horse is done up in an English saddle, and is a mare, and he knows her, because she belongs to Carol Danvers. But he nods and turns back to Steve with the biggest eyes.
“Will you show me her?”
And Steve is doomed, because he’s gonna do it. He’s gonna pretend this dumb overgrown carrot-eating dog is his and he’s gonna try and act like he loves it all so he can impress Tony. So he leads Tony and Excelsior over and starts attempting to pet Marvel, which goes about as well as Tony expected, given that Marvel is notoriously mischievous. She’s got Steve’s hair in her mouth in two seconds flat and in no time, Steve’s sporting a horse-slobber hairdo.
It only gets better when Carol shows up and says, “Tony? Why is this man molesting my horse?”
Tony can’t keep it together at this point anymore and he bursts out laughing and Steve is mortified.
“You were so cute, though, trying to look like you knew what you were talking about. Do you even know the difference between English and Western riding?”
Tony snorts and mumbles, “I guess you’re not wrong,” and then he says, “You wanna try riding Excelsior? I’ll lead you around a little.”
And Steve steels himself, because for this amazing guy named Tony, apparently he’s going to ride a dumb overgrown carrot-eating dog.
I want to say that I love your writings but that doesn't do it justice. I look forward to them. Also, can I ask for one we're reader is a tomboy that acts flirtatious and confident- but it's really to mask very low self-esteem- and secretly crushes on Mcree. They'd never ask because of this even though they've been best friends since forever. Somehow, Jessie finds out and uses this to tell reader about his feelings for them (you can use your imagination for the end). Thanks you for reading this!
((A/N - you are too kind! I hope you enjoy 💜))
You wished you had a hat. Not a cowboy hat like Jesse’s, but just a beanie or a cap or something. Your locks kept on being flung into your face by the wind, no matter how many times you tucked them behind your ear. You felt self-conscious as you hadn’t washed your hair today. A nice hat could cover it up. Granted it was a nice day, and the small inconvenience was probably worth it because the view from the café’s garden was incredible. Perched on the peak of a grassland, you could see rolling hills for miles, with the odd patch of darkened woods where if you looked closely, wild rabbits could be seen hopping around. At least you could, if your view wasn’t obstructed by hair.
“Maybe y'should get the chop.” Jesse observed, sipping at his beer in the dark green bottle.
You huffed at him, holding your hair in both hands as makeshift pigtails, which made him cackle.
“Maybe you should let me borrow your hat.”
“No way, doll. Should'a brought your own.
“Please? How am I supposed to enjoy our lovely day out if I can’t even see.”
Now it was Jesse’s turn to huff. Putting his bottle down on the worn metal bistro table, he gingerly took off his hat. Swooping your hair over your right shoulder and holding it there, you reached over and used your left hand to ruffle his mop as a thank you. He placed the hat down on your head forcefully.
“Oi. Not necessary.” You pouted, plaiting your hair skillfully.
He grinned at you.
“… What?” You asked again, still confused.
“Your hair. My hat. You look like a proper cowgirl.”
You snorted. Jesse picked up his beer.
“Comin’ from the legendary Jesse McCree himself?” You exaggerated the southern belle accent, placing a hand in the centre of your chest.
He nearly spat his drink over you, but managed to swallow it.
“My goodness, (Y/N). Is that really what I sound like?”
Eyes wide, he wiped a hand over his smiling lips to get rid of a spatter of beer.
“No, but you have to admit you do put it on sometimes.”
“Alright, I will admit that. Only if you admit ya like wearin’ my hat.” He smirked devilshly.
You smiled, but your brows were furrowed as to say of course you did.
“Half of my wardrobe is made up of your old clothes.”
“No. I have to keep buying new clothes because ya keep on stealin’ them.”
You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head, laughing.
“You have a point. What’re best friends for if you don’t share clothes?”
You managed to take a swig of your beer, now that your hair was out of the equation.
He was still looking at you, half a smile on his lips.
“Nothin’. Jus’ like bein’ here with you is all.”
“Cute. Now stop being sappy and finish your beer. I want to buy a hat.”
His eyes narrowed at you, keeping contact until he gulped the last drop. Jesse plonked the bottle on the table, followed by a satisfied ‘ahh.’
“I’m surprised you’re not g'na keep that one.” Scraping his chair back he nodded to the leather material protecting your head.
“I haven’t decided yet. We’ll see how lucky I get.”
“You’ve got me. I’ll say you’re pretty darn lucky.”
A dust of pink scattered your cheeks as you rolled your eyes at him and stood up.
He was your best friend, and had been for a very long time. Okay, there were times that you had thought of him as more, but you didn’t want to ruin what you already had. You’d watched too many TV shows and movies where friends decided to be in a relationship and they’d ended up breaking up and not talking to each other again. You knew better. You hoped Jesse knew better too. However, you hadn’t been in a proper relationship in a very long time, your last one ending on somewhat bad terms. It really put a damper on your confidence, and you weren’t particularly keen to go through it again.
Yeah, and Jesse was there to comfort you after the breakup.
That’s because he’s my best friend.
You like him.
Of course I do, he’s my friend.
That’s a cover up and you know it. You like him.
Your lips narrowed and brows furrowed at your internal battle.
“You okay, doll? Y'look a bit outta it.”
“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” You put on a fake smile and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the café.
His warm, large, firm hand that could easily make you bend to his will.
Woah there. Not in public.
Suddenly realising how clammy your palms were, you instantly pulled your hand out of Jesse’s grip and looked back to flash a quick smile to reassure him.
Stepping into a clothing store you picked up the first hat you saw, even if it was in the men’s section. You carefully took off Jesse’s hat and handed it to him to hold. Shoving the grey woollen beanie on your head, you span and turned to look at Jesse expectantly.
“Not g'na lie. You look like a female Reyes.”
You snorted and pulled the hat off, a few strands of your hair coming loose. Jesse came forward and gently brushed them behind your ear. He pointed to a cap.
“Whatta ‘bout that one?”
You put the beanie back on the hook and tried on the cap. You raised an eyebrow.
“You’re too old to even know what that word means.”
You chuckled, reaching up on your toes to pat his head. You’d never really noticed how much taller he was than you.
“It’s okay, sweetie. We all get old one day.”
You turned around to look in the mirror just in time to miss Jesse blush.
“I might get this one. Seems okay.”
“Yeah, suits ya, doll.”
You smiled at his compliment, your eyes catching in the mirror.
Taking the cap off and flattening the rest of your hair, you made your way over to the tills to pay.
“Hi there! Did you find everything you needed today?” The cashier asked.
“Yeah, thanks. I only needed a hat as Mr. Grumpy Pants got annoyed I had to borrow his.”
You like to think she let out a genuine laugh.
You paid for the hat, joking around with the cashier while she put it in a bag.
“I hope you and your boyfriend have a lovely rest of the day.”
You span around on your heels, too embarrassed to correct her.
You are just friends.
That’s bullcrap and you know it.
Stop. There’s nothing more.
You hold hands. You wear his clothes. You enjoy being in each other’s company. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, right?
You pulled the hat out of the bag and tore the tags off. You stuffed it on your head, grinning at Jesse.
“Now I don’t have to steal yours.”
He looked at you, blank faced.
“I heard what the cashier said.”
“You did? Oh. Funny, huh?”
“You didn’t correct her.”
“Erm, nope. Sorry? I guess.”
He broke into a grin.
He threw his arm around your shoulder as you both walked down the street.
“Have you ever imagined us being t'gether?”
“I mean.. That’s a full on question.”
“Yae or nae, is all I need.”
“Good. So’ve I.”
You stopped in your tracks and looked up at him, the brim of your cap casting a shadow over your face.
“Di'n’t I jus’ say that?”
You pressed your lips together.
“Well.. How did it pan out?”
“We were happy. We’ve known each other for such a long time, (Y/N).”
“I know we have, but I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”
“You pulled your hand away from me earlier.”
“What was that about? Did'ja get freaked out it seemed we were more than ‘friends’?” He exaggerated friends with his fingers doing air quotations.
He needed to stop changing the subject too quickly, he was catching you off guard.
“Er,” you coughed slightly, “Sure.”
You dipped out from under his arm and started walking over to a vacant bench. He was immediately behind you, you both sitting down at the same time.
“I don’t wanna do anythin’ that makes ya feel weird.”
“It’s weird even talking about it.”
Jesse let out a hearty chuckle. He put his hand on your thigh and his chocolate eyes met yours.
“Seriously, (Y/N). I’ve noticed the way ya look at me.”
You glanced away, feeling like a deer in headlights the way he was staring at you so intently.
“We can go slow. Everything would still be the same. I’ll still be the same ol’ Jesse McCree ‘nd look after ya. There’d just be sex every once in a while.”
You snapped back to look at him, mouth agape.
“Jesse McCree. We are in public!“
He grinned at you wolfishly.
“Well? Whadd'ya say?”
You weren’t used to being put on the spot.
He encased you in a bear hug.
“Y'all have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” His voice slightly muffled from being buried in the crook of your neck. You leant into him, smiling.
See, was that so difficult?
You hated your internal voice. She was always right.
“Wait ‘til I tell everybody back at base.”
“Hey, we haven’t-”
“It’s official, (Y/N).” He sat back and grinned. “C'mon!”
He dragged you from off the bench, headed to where the car was parked, practically bouncing around like an enthusiastic puppy.
You shook your head to yourself and smiled. What on earth had you gotten yourself into.
Thinking about the 'teaching Rarity to play fetch with Winona' idea put a funny scene into my head- Applejack is giving Rarity pointers on the perfect throw, and Rares goes "You know, I *have* thrown before, darling." Applejack says "Alright, sugarcube," and steps back. Rarity winds up for a hard overhand throw... and whips it too hard. The stick hits the ground right in front of Winona, who gives Rarity a confused head tilt, while Applejack tries hiding her giggles and snorts under her hat
Thanks to @villainous-love my creative Christmas-y juices are flowing. Here is a nice little Civilian!Reader x Black Hat.
Click clack. Click clack.
Black Hat looks up from his paperwork with an extremely sour look on his face. He glances at his desk clock and noted that it was past midnight already. Growling, Black Hat dematerialize from his chair and slithers downstairs.
The lights in the den were on and you were sitting on the couch. A thick quilted blanket was covering your legs and lower body. Protecting you from the chill in the manor. Your eyes were glue to the TV as your hands were knitting away.
“Do you know what time it is?” said Black Hat rematerializing beside you.
Jumping, you gave him a sheepish smile, “Uh…I can’t sleep?”
Black Hat just narrows his eyes, “So, making horrible racket helps you fall asleep?”
“The TV isn’t that loud,” you mumble in defense.
“I’m not taking about the TV! I’m talking about those clicking clacking monstrosities!” yelled Black Hat pointing to your still knitting hands.
“You mean my knitting needles?” you said with a blank face.
“You been at it for the past 5 months now! Any chance you get you’ve been clacking away. It’s been driving me insane! Really I been contemplating just selling an video of you knitting as noise torture,” ranted Black Hat face changing into something demonic.
“How can you hear me knitting and not the TV?” You asked dumbly, so use to Black Hat traumatizing transformations.
Though Black Hat just gave you a look that you just had to look away from.
“I’m almost done making Christmas gifts. Just hold out a few more weeks,” you said defending yourself. You glance back at him to see his reaction.
Reverting his face back to normal, Black Hat gave you a dumbfounded stare.
“Christmas gift?! Why not buy them like every greedy human normally do?” yelled Black Hat again.
“I like making them! They are more personal that way,” you said bickering right back.
Black Hat snorted and sat next to you, “Why am I not surprised. You’re the person who had to help an old woman with their gorceries last week.”
“What am I suppose to do? It’s common courtesy!” you said pouting at him.
“You are suppose to laugh at their misfortune!” laughed Black Hat.
“Why are we dating again?” You asked not amused by his behavior.
“Cause you are mine!” growled Black Hat bringing you into his lap. His arms holding you in place as he buried his face in the crook your neck. His growls tickling your skin.
Rolling your eyes, you snorted. You are getting use to his bratty behavior, it’s too funny. You would never leave this grumpy evil mass, despite being on the opposite side of the spectrum morally. Smirking you continue to knit as he holds you in spite.
“You know I’m serious about the noise torture video,” grumbled Black Hat still face buried in your crook.
“Yes Dear, I know,” you said smirking as you continue to knit and watch TV.
“It is reported that in one of the shortest interviews of all time, Hollywood columnist Hedda Hopper said, ‘I suppose you are too busy to read the papers?’ ‘On the contrary,’ said Vivien sweetly, “I read all the papers except the one in which your column appears.‘ 'Aren’t you afraid of her?’ a friend who overheard the conversation asked. ’What? Me afraid of a hat?’ Vivien snorted.” -Gwen Robyns
tbh fenris laughs at most of the jokes hawke makes?? like he’s obviously more reserved in public & around the rest of the hawke squad (esp in act 1) but in private it’s definitely implied that he finds hawke genuinely funny. his sense of humor is just as ridiculous as hawke’s. what i’m trying to say here is: less long suffering eye rolling fenris, more fenris coughing into his hand to hide his amusement when hawke cracks a terrible joke.
I'm sorry, I've been thinking way too hard about this, but I headcanon Flug as being the most ticklish around his neck and knees and sometimes he'll do this adorable little snort that Black Hat secretly loves.
Since the whole Whitebeard crew is happy to have a niece ( grandkid for the captain) they are betting what name of uncles or Aunts and grandfather the baby is gonna say for first. Of course it would be luffy for the dismay of the crew ;)
Skylar stared with blank fascination at the grinning face in front of her.
“Hi! I’m your Uncle Luffy! I’m gonna be King of the Pirates! Do you poop?”
Ace punched his idiot brother’s head, the man’s skull rattling about like a bobble-head. An action that made his daughter fall into a fit of squealing excited laughter, which kind of softened his next admonishing words. “Idiot! Of course, she’s a freaking baby! Don’t ask stupid questions…”
“Shishishishi~ Sorry Ace,” Luffy said, not really sounding sorry in the least, turning back to his niece, he crouched down to her level and urged, “Alright! Say: Luffy!”
“Aah~” she shrieked, raising her arms enthusiastically.
Marco, who’d been lurking nearby, snorted at the straw-hatted boy’s effort. “Do you have any idea how many of us have been trying to get her to say some variant of our names? She’s probably so confused she won’t get it right for a long while.”
Ace agreed. The amount of hounding his cute little daughter had was both endearing and astounding all the same. Still, he wouldn’t mind if somehow Luffy managed to weasel a word out of her that wasn’t just screeches or repeats of “ma” and “da.”
He smiled as Luffy staunchly ignored Marco, determined to prove him wrong. Sky seemed to be quite taken with his youngest brother, responding to his patient pronunciation of “Luffy” with various calls and whoops. She seemed to be having fun, her little feet thumping against the deck. Ace had to admit (grudgingly) that she did look pretty damn cute in the snow leopard onesie that her Godfather (shit he still couldn’t believe Law even agreed) got for her.
His eye twitched though when he noticed one of the spots was suspiciously shaped like the Heart Pirates’ Jolly Roger.
He was going to have to singe that one off.
“Poo?” Skylar questioned, stubbornly trying to pull her uncle’s finger into her mouth.
Luffy giggled at the word childishly, but forged on with astounding patience, “Close! Now, come on. On three you gotta say it. One. Two. Three. Luffy!”
“POOPY!” she cheered.
Everyone in the vicinity froze.
Ace felt like the entire world tilted on its axis, his brain momentarily flat-lining at the news. This can’t be it. This can’t be my daughter’s first word…
Then he went into full panic mode.
Shoving his brother roughly aside, he grabbed his precious little girl’s head into his palms, mashing her chubby cheeks together. “Don’t do this to Daddy, baby! Come on! Say Luffy!”
Skylar blinked at him for a stunned moment, before the tiny squished lips turned up into a smile. Her eyes lighting up in understanding. Ace loved her, truly she was the cutest, smartest, most precio–
[In the background Spoons had completely lost her shit, cackling loudly about “Nothing but the best for our child” and repeating “Uncle Poopy” in increasingly hysterical tones. She couldn’t be trusted anymore. She was a traitor to his cause.]
Carefully, Ace bundled up his daughter, staunchly trying to ignore his darling child’s repeated mantra of “poopy poopy poopy” as he walked over to an equally somber Marco. In a quiet voice he asked, “Hey, Marco?”
Ace offered Skylar to him. “Hold my baby.”
“I gotch’yur baby, bro,” he stated, swaddling her close to his chest.
“Luffy,” Ace announced, his shoulders stiffening and his hands slowly tightening into fists.
Ace cracked his knuckles, slowly turning to glare over his shoulder at the younger man. Murder in his eyes.
Prompt request: “Hello. Would you write a fluf fic where flug takes care of sick black hat? black hat would act tough but secretly likes it when flug takes care of him” Requested by @wass0990
Black Hat stomps into Flug’s lab, slamming the door open and growling. “Dr. Flug!”
Flug jumps in response, almost dropping a beaker he was using. “Y-yes sir?” He looks over at him nervously, not knowing what to expect.
“Dementia has been ill the past week and I am starting to feel odd. I fear I she may have passed it on to me.” He stands and stares at Flug expectantly.
“Um… okay? W-what do you want me to do about it?” Flug peers over at him in confusion. ‘Why is he telling me this?’
“I want you to make it go away! Use a lazer ray or something! Get rid of it! I don’t have time to deal with something as trivial as a virus.” Black Hat growls, walking closer to Flug.
Flug takes a step back as he blurts out “O-oh! N-no, it doesn’t work like that!” He backs into a wall and whimpers.
Black Hat reaches him and they are mere inches apart. “What do you mean that’s not how it works?! How do you humans get over it, then? Pass it on to one another, like the Evil Flu?”
Flug swallows hard. “W-well, you see, Sir, we uh… take medicine, sleep a lot, and take time to let ourselves get better…”
Black Hat snorts. “That sounds trivial.”
Flug stops his foot and narrows his eyes. “Maybe so, but it’s what we have to do, and it’s what you’re going to have to do, too, Jefectio.”
Black Hat fakes a gag before sneezing. He groans and looks at Flug. “I might need to lay down…”
Flug grins under his bag, “You absolutely do, Jefe. Why don’t you just go to bed? I can bring you some soup later.”
“Soup?” Black Hat asks, curious to what it is.
“Err…” Flug starts, nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s something we eat to make us feel better.”
Black Hat pauses for a moment before nodding, turning around and walking out of the door. As he heads to his room he can be heard sneezing and coughing in the hall, something that is very obviously irritating to him by the volume of his groans once he finishes.
A few hours pass and Flug takes a break from working, going to the kitchen to make some soup for his boss. As he’s stirring the steaming pot he decides to make some herbal tea as well.
Putting together the herbs in another pot he lets it boil as he daydreams about the day’s events. His thoughts are disrupted by the smell of ready soup and he takes the pots off the stove.
He pours the soup into a bowl and the tea into a mug and puts them on a tray, laying a spoon next to the bowl and lifting the tray.
He walks down the maze of hallways before coming to a large door and knocking, listening for any response. The door opened slightly and Flug walked in with the tray in hand.
Black Hat was laying on the bed with a pillow on his face, sprawled out with limbs pointing in odd unnatural directions that made Flug nauseous.
“Sir? I made you soup.”
Black Hat groaned, straightening himself out and sitting up. Some color had drained from his face and there was a bit of drool dribbling down his chin. Flug chose to ignore it and set the tray on his lap.
“Flug, what is this? How do you eat it?!” Black Hat frowned, staring down at it.
Flug picked up the spoon and dipped it in the soup, picking up some broth and holding it up to Black Hat. Surprisingly, he leaned forward and took the spoon in his mouth, not minding that Flug was the one holding the spoon.
“'It tastes weird. I don’t like it.” Black Hat grumbled, looking up at Flug. “Go away. I don’t need your help.”
Flug stared at him for a moment before coming back to reality. “Oh. Jefe, you have to eat it. It will help you feel better.”
Black Hat growled, “I don’t want it.”
“Then try the tea.” Flug answered, gesturing to the sweet smelling mug.
Black Hat stared at it for a moment before muttering to himself and slowly picking up up.
He took a big swallow of the liquid. It tasted of honey, and a few other noticeable flavors danced around on his tongue. He rather liked it, but he didn’t want to admit it.
Slamming down the mug he forced himself to dry heave. “That was absolutely repulsive! How could something like that help cure anything?!”
Flug sighed and rolled his eyes, collecting more broth with the spoon and holding it up to Black Hat’s mouth. He stuck his tongue out in response, leaning back to get away from it.
Flug persisted, earning a hiss from Black Hat as he shoved the tray and spilled the soup onto the ground. The mug shatters and spilled tea all over the floor and walls.
“There! It’s gone! Now you should be, too.“ Flug frowned in response to his outburst and groaned, “I’m just trying to help you, Jefectio. It will help you get better.”
Black Hat growled and stared at him, glaring deep into his eyes. Flug took a step back, his knees feeling weak and wobbly.
“I-I guess I sh-should get go-going…” Flug stuttered out, stumbling to the door.
Acting on impulse Black Hat blurted out “Wait!” He paused, realizing what he just did and he felt his face warm up. “…Clean up your mess! The soup could leave stains in my floor.”
Flug shifted his weight between his feet, “Yes, Jefectio. I-I’ll get right on that.”
“Hurry, you dolt!” Black Hat spat, earning a yelp from the boy as Flug flew out of the room, running for the cleaning supplies.
Black Hat slams the pillow into his face, groaning loudly. He hated feeling sick, but if it meant Flug taking care of him, maybe it was tolerable.
So, who here knows about the origin of my nickname and multi-purpose internet handle, Schmergo?
In third grade, my teacher gave us creative writing time every day, though always with themes related to what we were studying. I created the perfect blank slate character for concepts to be explained to in my journal entries- a Martian named Schmergo, invented by Wren Brown and me. He was purple and tan with five eyeballs, four legs, antennae, a curved tail, and a giant S on his chest.
Schmergo was Mars’ most esteemed Earth Scientist, which meant he was ostensibly an expert on Earth, but compared to humans, still woefully uninformed about our customs. He could travel to Earth via portals in toilets and trash cans, loved to eat inedible items, shoved stuff up his nose, misunderstood every explanation, and promptly vanished back to Mars as soon as any adults arrived, leaving kids to blame for his horrible messes.
He appeared in my stories almost daily- and then my classmates’. When Schmergo’s slightly gross antics threatened to overtake writing time, my teacher banned him.
Well. That just made him more popular. My Odyssey of the Mind team named ourselves The Schmergos. I made a t-shirt with Schmergo on it that I often wore to school. I created a tote bag that said “Schmergo Lives!” which I carried all the way through middle school.
In fifth grade, we were learning about ancient civilizations and had to develop our own “civilization,” creating everything from a flag to religion to national anthem to Constitution. Mine was a secret underwater Martian colony on Earth, established by Schmergo to observe humans. It was called Schmergoceana.
Needless to say, when I was allowed on the Internet, my first email address and Neopets account were both named after Schmergo. And to this day, I have friends who know me better as Schmergo than Megan.
In summary, the Internet is really weird, I’ve apparently always had an inexplicable knack for developing tiny cultlike structures, and at age 25, I am still called by the name of a Martian who flushes himself down the toilet, ears teddy bears, wears meatloaf as a hat, and snorts egg salad.
Another quick(ish) sketch comic. The text cause I know this one is a little hard to read: Panel 1: L: Oh hey! Aye recognize you! You were in me dad’s movies last year. HK:… OH! You must be the conductor’s kid. L: Ha! It’s the teeth that give it away. C: Leia? Panel 2: HK: Waaaiitt… You’re not out for revenge or anything, are you? L: Revenge? Why? HK: Cause I beat up your dad. L: Wait, that was you?! C: Wait, Hat Lass?
Panel 3: L: Well, did he deserve it? C: HEY! What kind of a question is THAT?! L: An accurate one? HK: *Snort*