#“can you say something that is NOT exotic butters????” “.... butters exotic.”

[killer-blowmybrain]

i was playing pressure with my friend and then BOOM!! FNAF REFERENCE!!!!

For me this is nostalgic

HEHEHHEHEHE

[fistfuloflightning]

b dylan hollis quotes, in no particular order

“It’s butter on butter. No one tell Paula Dean, she’ll bust in like the Koolaid Man.”

“This is not—how can I say—RIGHT?”

“How did you come up with these ingredients? Did you just throw a grenade down aisle six??”

“Now the chickens are implicated.”

“The only thing this’ll rise up from is the dead.”

“Oh, it’s foaming… please stop growing.”

“Sorry hippies, I’m with Nixon on this one.”

“How long does sadness take to cook?”

“They say there’s a cookie for every occasion, and if so, then this must be the cookie for when you descend into psychosis.”

“To those who use Celsius… don’t.”

“I’m just gonna listen to the Texans.”

“Is the pudding related or did you just want a snack?”

“This pie is made of beans.”

“Ask your grandfather’s grandfather about it… Actually, don’t. You’d have to dig him up for that. He’d be kinda… soupy.”

“In the Great War people dug holes and threw things at each other. It’s a bit like a children’s sandbox… just with an abundance of missing limbs.”

“The La Croix method of adding flavor; just enough to make you realize what you don’t have.”

“You’re diluting peanut butter—to the Gulag!”

“If I have to beat anything else in this recipe, I’m going to be charged with domestic violence.”

“Just let that fester.”

“Shit, gravity.”

“A lot of things start with potatoes: french fries, hashbrowns, famine.”

“Mrs Kirk, you’re my hero.”

“Look who’s fallen from grace. Shame.”

“Seriously, don’t disrespect the Irish, they can be mean.”

“It smells really festive, like febreeze in a crypt.”

“Here come the tears—like my mom after a glass of wine.”

“We start with a box of lime jello—the Abyss beckons.”

“One package of vanilla pudding, this one’s French… It’s given up. What a surprise.”

“I can only describe these as voluptuous.”

“‘But Dylan,’ you say, ‘what if I’m allergic to peanuts?’ Repent. You and your ancestors have obviously done something to deserve such a malady.”

*mouth full* “Everybody say thank you, Judy. You did a good job.”

“Now it says we can add sprinkles for the children. Screw that, this is for me.”

“Juice of a lemon—pretty exotic for Nebraska.”

“Prunes are just plums, post-mortem.”

“The Draugr of the fruit kingdom.”

“This stuff is stronger than my desire to drop out of college.”

[nightmare-foundation]

Honestly it lowkey annoys me whenever people say that Michael has 'very little personality' outside of hunting down his father.

N like- on the surface, that seems true, but like. If you look deeper, that's... not really true?? Because there's a LOT that actually speaks to his character, but you have to be willing to catch onto the connections his character has

Like, for example, Michael has a very straightforward way of speaking. He's dry and sarcastic ("They thought I was you... [laugh]"), has a foreshortened sense of the future (the drawing of a gravestone in the security logbook), not to mention the dialogue of foxybro in fnaf 4. He doesn't beat around the bush, but he's bitter and dry and sarcastic. Even as an old man, his anger and cynicism towards Freddy's shows in his drawings, but he has a sense of humor (the exotic butters and casual bongos referenced in the logbook, not to mention the silly drawings), plus he's sentimental (as said before, exotic butters and casual bongos). Not to mention he's stubborn as shit, given he keeps coming back to Freddy's, even after 30 whole years.

A lot of people also really like to write Michael off as being stupid, for... some reason. The games really say otherwise; the fact that he tampers with the animatronics regularly, figured out what his father did and what happened to Elizabeth in less than a week, freed the dead kids, helped make FFPS and ran a business, likely Also made the fnaf 3 location too, knew what was gonna happen to him in SL (pretty clear given the fact you can ignore Baby's directions on the last night), can manage several animatronics at once throughout an entire night...

Michael is very clearly Really Fucking Smart. Smart enough that I'm willing to bet that was one of the reasons why William sent him to the SL bunker. Michael is FAR from an idiot, and the FNAF movie even proves this further! He's SCARILY smart!

There's a lot more too; him using a red foxy mask speaks a lot to his character too. Red is often used to denote everything from passion to anger (yknow, 'seeing red' being a term for when you're blind with rage), and he wears it the entire time he bullies CC. It's not just a literal mask, it's figurative too; Michael puts up a mask of anger, he pretends to be this scary bully. The cruelty isn't real, Michael is just the scapegoat and he's acting out (very very common).

Also, Michael is 100% who you play as in fnaf 4 based on the movement, and who rubs away in Midnight Motorist. CC is the type of kid to freeze up, curl up into a ball and cry when he's scared, as seen several times in fnaf 4. It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly turn around and start running around, or fighting back. It's very Michael to run around, constantly looking around, or to break out and run away.

Another note on Michael's character is that he's associated with Foxy. The Funtimes are clearly modeled after the Aftons (Ballora and Baby are, why wouldn't the rest match CC (Freddy) and Michael (Foxy)?), and using that we can gleam some parts of Michael from FT Foxy (since William clearly was trying to mock and make fun of him with the angsty teen voice). FT Foxy is a performer; he's dramatic, he's vicious, attacking even when he 'shouldn't', and wants his stage solely to himself.

This fits Michael; Michael put on an act of viciousness and cruelty, always attacking when you least expected it. So it makes sense that Michael, too, is a performer, and FFPS hammers this in using the business bear. Again, the mask represents Michael acting, pretending, and it wouldn't be the first time an Afton would pretend (William, Elizabeth, and to an extent, CC). The rest of the Aftons are also theatrical and dramatic, so again, this tracks. He's also represented as one of those hand puppets in the ffps alleyway poster, something used to ACT.

And again, with Foxy, we can gleam that Michael likely is also a sort of 'leader' figure, since Foxy has been depicted as not just a pirate captain, but also as a Ringleader. This also tracks, not just bc the Aftons have a circus theme, but Michael is the eldest of his siblings, and thus the de facto 'leader'. He's the first to act, to put things into motion when everything 'ends'. Foxy is also, well, a fox, which are depicted as cunning and intelligent, which only lends credence to Michael being intelligent.

It's also implied that Michael... doesn't really care about people who Aren't his family?? Whether that's by blood or not, he doesn't care abt others who isn't his family. This is implied by the fact that he only cared about freeing Elizabeth, showing absolutely No care about the Funtimes despite them clearly being sentient. Not to mention the lawsuits he regularly gets in FFPS, or the state Fazbears Frights is in in fnaf 3. And, judging by Henry's final speech, he and Michael just. Don't seem to talk At All. At the very least they definitely don't communicate since Henry assumed Michael wanted to die (which is left Very Ambiguous).

Honestly this doesn't even BEGIN to get into everything that the Glitchtrap Michael theory says about his character that also hammer in all of these traits Even Further.

And like. Michael is SOOO much like William when you put all of this into perspective. Like, they are SIMILAR similar, but differ in ways that are important. Michael is a performer, an actor, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his family, he's stubborn as fuck, he's smart as hell, he's sarcastic and dry, etc.

He has SO. MUCH. CHARACTER. You just have to dig a little- this is ALL gleamed from the games and Security Logbook. There's more if you believe he's Glitchtrap- which he very likely is.

Just... it's nuts. He's such an intriguing character, he's not perfect and he's morally gray, yet people love to dumb him down to "hehe sad uwu arsonist zombie boy who's also Stupid"

Please just let Michael be a problematic old man (he was born in the 60s ffs, he's almost in his 60s by the time ffps rolls around).

[hazelfoureyes]

Sending in anon because I'm a coward... 😩

I'm a new reader, and I just have to say-- your "a doe in fall" series is just... AMAZING!!

I could go on, and on and on about how much I love it. But what gets me the most is always Alastor's dialogue, because as someone who is also on the aro/ace spectrum, I just get it so much. Especially the subtle hoping that reader can like... Read his mind about how he feels for her, and the weird sort of stockholm syndrome we sometimes develop with ourselves after being alone with only our own company for so long, and it really is, lol, like you just get so used to being alone for so long because you know the idea people have of you, you can't truly live up to, so you don't want to "disappoint" them that you actually aren't like they are, so you just sorta... Keep them occupied at arms length-- Therefore you're forced to adapt to your company being the only love you have for a long time. it's like an obligation.

And when or if the special somebody who understands you comes along, you realize... "Wow, I've been living like this for so long, is this what it feels like to be loved and appreciated, in spite of my oddities, or maybe even in favor of them? Strange..."

Emphasis on the "strange" part because, when you're so deeply entrenched in your own soul, sharing your space for another almost feels more like learning how to swim rather than an instant "click", sparks, fireworks and whatnot. The excitement of the magical "other" has been long since drowned and snuffed out of you.

So, when this somebody who is similar to you, or just simply understands, doesn't try to change you or ignore you, but instead envelopes you and adores you, the appreciation is deep and overflowing. But there's a part of you always pinching your heart, a sort of awareness of something that isn't the case, wondering "Is this a dream? what if it is and I'll wake up and this is not at all what I was thinking?".

Haha... ANYWAY, sorry for the slightly morose and LONG read 😂 But I always think of how similar I am to how you write alastor and it's scary in a way, but comforting (especially since he's my first and biggest fictional crush) except in this case my profession would actually be burlesque. Especially since I work in the exotic dance world. It's fascinating being aro/ace in the SW world, I could go on forever- But yeah, I absolutely love your writing!! Makes me feel less alone in this world. Annnd surprisingly I always feel so sensual after reading, I love love love it!! Reading before work always gets me in the mood to dance and pretend I'm Y/N, lol!!

Much blessings ❤️❤️

*cracks knuckles* listen here babycakes, I eat this shit UP. Exploring Human Ace Alastor is my BREAD AND BUTTER. I go into ESSAYS in the AO3 comments in this 😂

you really understand, which makes me so happy and is confirmation I’m conveying him the way I want to.

Now I’m gonna ramble and echo you basically 😂

I really think Alastor (atleast in this story) feels that excitement and strangeness of how open he can be around Autumn (since she doesn’t have a proper name cuz she’s reader 😂). He’s a fish out of water despite the fact he’s actually being his most authentic self. Like you said, it’s new to him just to be … Alastor. To be honest and upfront. His normal operating mode has been so restricted for so long he’s struggling with how to be himself. And then that fear—- well what if I’m too much? What if I ruin this, when I finally have something worth keeping? He’s never gotten this far and the fear of losing that comfort is terrifying but so is the actual comfort itself. It’s new and foreign.

A deep uneasiness that’s if he fully embraces this he’s gonna just fuck it up and it’ll be his fault this time. Not a misunderstanding or misalignment of needs but a confirmation he wasn’t good enough anyway.

“it is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all” he would say that’s bullshit

and because of the situations he’s been in before, he’s never gotten to actually explore physical intimacy in a “safe” environment. He was always going into interactions because he had to if he wanted to keep people around. It was a necessity, not something he actually sincerely wanted to participate. So he tried to keep them happy with other means of affection and intimacy to maintain some safe distance but eventually, always, things would fall apart. At a distance or up close.

that’s why that most recent part was called Learning. Alastor is trying new things to learn more about what he’s okay with or doesn’t care for even offering in the future. Autumn is learning (that night, tho she doesn’t understand it yet) that he’s still figuring out how to meet her halfway (even tho she’s not even asking for that) when he’s used to being forced to meet people where they are. And Detective Brady, of course, is learning he may have found motive for Tommy’s disappearance.

I’m really glad you’re enjoying his portrayal and that you’re resonating with parts of him! That makes my soul hum! 💖 your line of work mixed with your Aro/Ace-ness sounds like such an interesting conversation if we’re honest! That’s a small aspect I love about Autumn. She’s in this field that’s (wrongly) considered to be hyper sexual and full of air headed wanton whores, but she’s the first person to be like “oh! You aren't into this stuff. Let me adjust my expectations. I’ll ask for clear verbal consent, not initiate, and I’m totally okay with never fucking again if it’s for your love and company.”

I work in the SW industry in a sense (Personal Assistant) and one of my biggest pet peeves is all of the shit people project on SWers.

sorry for the essay I could talk about this for ETERNITY

omg and THANK YOU! 🥺💖💖💖💖

Referencing:

A Doe in Fall (Human Alastor x Burlesquer Fem Reader)

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

[rottenstrawberrigirl]

Hello Berry, my dear fairy, are we going to talk about how well that rymes?

I have to say—I’m absolutely in love with your new aesthetic and your profile picture. ₊˚⊹♡ It suits you so well, like a little spark of magic. ^^

I’ll keep bothering you with my asks, because frankly… I miss you. Yes, I said it—and it feels so good to put it into words. Why do we stigmatize missing people? Why is saying “I long for our conversations” seen as weakness? It’s not and I am happy I can remind you, in a way, that I think about you from my corner of the earth.

Anyway! I just wanted to gently remind you to take care of yourself. Please remember to eat, drink, and rest. Always listen to your body—it knows what you need, and you deserve that kindness.

Also, I made cookies again, mostly because baking something small and sweet makes me feel good. It’s comforting, and it's like a soft victory for me. I love to share them with family and friends—why did nobody tell me how rewarding it feels to feed people you love? And when they praise my baking I was am melting on the floor with pride. Sadly, I can’t mail you a box (the world is cruel), but I can and will share the recipe. ^^

You’ll need: – 250g flour – 85g powdered sugar – 230g exotic butter – vanilla extract (optional, but lovely) Let your butter soften at room temperature—it’s so much easier to knead that way. Then, pour the sugar over the butter and start mixing them together (add your vanilla here too, if you're using it). Personally, I use a reusable glove—it’s easier to clean, gives you better control, and the butter doesn’t get stuck in the stupid metal bits of a whisk. Next, add the flour in two batches. Stir until it all comes together, then pop the dough into the fridge for an hour to rest. Once it’s done resting, roll out the dough, press your shapes, preheat the oven to 180°C, and bake until golden brown.

That’s all, my dear. I really hope you end up making these—they’re soft and sweet with a little bit magic, just like you. Sending you all the good vibes and so much love. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ♡♡♡

Oh my sweetest starlight, my loveliest cozy corner of the internet—I’m already tearing up, and I haven’t even gotten to the cookie part yet. How did I get so lucky to have someone like you in my life? 😞T_T

You have no idea what it meant to come back and find your words waiting for me like a hidden letter tucked between the pages of a long-lost ancient fairytale book.

I miss you too—so much. I’ve thought about you more times than I can count, in quiet moments and loud ones, in between sips of my herbal teas or looking at something beautiful and wishing I could show you.

But first of all, let me thank you for this beautiful message you wrote to me (and for all the others!). It's so incredibly kind of you (you are a saint), which was the first thing I thought when I logged into the account. I think I got my heart stabbed a number of times while I was reading it, quite literally right at my heart. I'm not complaining, though. A gentle god held me in her arms as I passed. ♥︎

Your rhyme? Impeccable. Your presence? A balm. And your reminder to care for myself? I swear, it reached through the screen and touched the tired parts of my soul in the gentlest way. Thank you, fairy of flour and feelings. Thank you for remembering me even when I went quiet. That kind of love is rare and precious, and I carry it carefully.

You’re right—missing someone shouldn’t feel like a secret sorrow we tuck away. It’s a sign of love, of meaning, of deep soul-connection. It’s proof of how much love we’ve woven into this tiny, pixelated corner of the universe. It’s the glowing thread that tugs us back to each other, no matter how long it’s been or how far away we wander.

Throughout the time I have spent talking to you here, you have been an inspiration to me to grow into a better person. I am not sure why or when I have turned into this self-isolating, overwhelmed by life somebody. This is not supposed to be part of my berry habitat. Because I genuinely feel bonded with you, and I treasure our conversations, and not being active for so long has been weighing on my heart, my body, and my soul more and more with each passing day. I suppose I was scared of not being a worthy friend to you. Here, I said it. I have never had a friend I could talk to the way I could speak to you, and while this made me secretly overjoyed and filled with hopeful, positive emotions, it also made me anxious about not being enough for you, not matching your energy or intellect. This was purely my problem. It's just that I think the depression of the past few years has altered my brain chemistry. I keep trying to heal without feeling like I'm making any progress whatsoever. And I think it was a foolish thing to overthink about this stuff, and then be too embarrassed to come back because I only end up hurting you more. I'm so sorry. Again, I am sorry if this part of the message came across as overly pessimistic. I do at least owe you my honesty. I want you to know that there wasn't a single moment I stopped thinking about you. I spend a lot of time talking to the people I hold dear to me inside my mind.

Your new icon audibly sighs like a Victorian widow gazing out a rain-streaked window. I am loving the vibe. As for my blog, I am not sure if I should go on and do a full fairy theme or if I should stick to my strawberries. We'll see soon, whatever it is in the end.. 👀

AND THE COOKIES—😭

How dare you describe them so lovingly and then not be able to send me a batch! Cruel world indeed. But I will absolutely make them. I read that recipe like it was a poem, and I swear I caught the scent of vanilla and warm sugar in the air. You’re right; feeding the ones we love is such a pure joy—and reading this felt like I’d just been offered one, fresh from your oven, wrapped in a ribbon with a note.

I’ll let the dough rest just like you said (I love how even dough needs its beauty sleep), and then I’ll bake some shapes that remind me of stars, because you’re my guiding star, my Polaris, my steady light, my northern shimmer, my reminder. ‧₊˚✩⋅☆₊˚⊹

(I sat here grinning like a fool and then just… dissolved. Fully melted. I am now one with the cookie dough. Berry purée. Send help.)

Thank you for sharing your little victories in the kitchen and for reminding me how wonderful it is to nourish those we love. If only I could send you a taste of my gratitude! Until then, I’ll bake these cookies and send you all the virtual crumbs of love! RIP Eggs Benedict, you would have been proud.

Reading this, I felt like I was being summoned by a benevolent celestial being in the form of a Tumblr message. And I missed it. I missed you. So. Much. So much so it made my ribs ache a little, like my heart was trying to knock politely to say, “Excuse me, when are we seeing her again? 😾”

I’m back now and I have missed you terribly. We’ve got catching up to do. Talk very soon—expect ramblings. Expect chaos. Expect me. >:)

With so much love and warmth,

Forever yours —Berry.

When I woke up this morning, I found myself lost in thought. My baby, Momo, cannot speak our language, unlike my mom and me, or any other human language at all. All she does is wander around, play and run carefree, lick herself clean, and meow at us with her big blue grey eyes, peering into our souls. She can't engage in conversation with us or tell us what's on her mind. I just know she has so much to say; she is a philosopher deep in her heart. I would be very upset if I lived with another species, two humans, whose language I am unable to understand. I wonder if she is upset too ;(((

I will treat her with her reward cream and plead for forgiveness for our civilization not still being advanced enough for us to be able to communicate with them.

Meow your little darlings for me.

Plus, here's a little song from me for you! :D

[floredaqueen]

A Bud In The Gun(2)

Gator Tillman X Fem!OriginalCharacter

Enemies To Lovers

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Writer(?)'s Note: This chapter was actually super hard for me to write, but I hope people actually like it. Took me forever to gain the courage to even continue it because it felt so late. I just hope that people like a different type of love story. Please enjoy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

⚠️WARNING⚠️

MINORS DNI 18+, Cursing, Threats, Insults, Chrys being a little private investigator, Gator still spying on Chrys, description of fighting, description of sexual content, description of past SA (Trigger), description of assault, mentions of self harm.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Pinapples (3), Grapefruit (3), Bananas (6), Strawberries (2 1LBs), Raspberries (3 1LBs), Blackberries (3 1LBs), Green Apples (5), Grapes (2lbs), Kiwis (6), Grapefruit Juice (2 5.9 oz), Lemonade (2 5.9 oz), Orange Juice (2 6 oz), Apple Juice (2 6 oz), Cranberry Juice (2 5.9 oz)..

... This was the kind of food Chrysanthemum was used to throwing into her cart at this point. When she began her job as an exotic dancer, more than a few of the girls told her that her new bread and butter were fruits and salads. The nutrience would be her best friend. They were right. Now, it's all she would eat. Chrys could still eat other foods, but at this point, it didn't go down her stomach the right way.. in fact, she often coughed it back up.

As she stocked up on her nutritious must haves, she contemplated her plan of action. Her beloved father and brother. She was sure about how she would go about it, but she knew damn sure that all bets were off. Especially when it came to law enforcement in this Godforsaken town. She could've sworn she overheard Sheriff- Gag- Roy Tillman justify a man raising his hand to his wife. It was fucking 2019. If a man had ever threatened or committed violence against her she would kill him. If she allowed to happen even once, Chrys would kill herself. She was just getting more and more reasons to set this town a blaze.

It wasn't long when she finished up, counting her spending and then heading to the checkout bag. Although, no matter how goregous and sharp her eyes were at any other time in the day, there was no getting past the fact that she was as blind as a bat in the early morning. That was her inner dialogue for why she was always bumping someone. The someone she inconveniently bumped into this breezy morning had to be the slick back haired douche seemed to follow her everywhere.. otherwise known as Gator Tillman.

"Careful, darlin'. I could've knocked you over," He'd say in that slightly southern accent, which didn't make much sense considering they were in North Dakota. Chrys rolled her eyes, rolling her shopping car full of sweet and acidic goodies. Gator took a gander as the pretty woman swiped and checked and swiped and checked. Even while doing something so mundane, she looked good, the deputies eyes trailing downward to that juicy peach she called her backside.

"So this is how you keep yourself.. petite.. you need help, lil' lady?" Tillman questioned while he gawked at her smooth and lithe frame. It only got a quick laugh out of her. She looked back when she finished the juice and moved on to the salad.

"Tillman, the only thing this is keeping me from getting is arrested because I kicked your ass." Chrys sneered, getting a chuckle out of him. Soon, he was leaning over, his big hands hovering over her worked, tiny waist appreciatively as if he wasn't about to say something to set her off.

"I'd love to see you try darlin'.. the only thing you could probably do is dodge–" His eyes widened when her gaze met his. They were still piercing right through him as if she were looking at a mirror. He felt like he could feel her lips on his even though her nose almost touched his.

"I assure you.. you don't wanna find out what I can do." Those were fighting words, Gator all the more riled up to start something with his more than eager opponent who couldn't stop poking at him with her long, black painted fingernail. Even if she was dead serious, he couldn't wait for the chance to really demonstrate how they were two completely different levels.

"What if I do..?" Gator would question, only to find himself more and more smug as while her irritation sat like chili on the stove.. at a low boil.

"Go fuck yourself," Chrys decided that was enough indulging Gator for one day, finishing up the scanning of her items before paying and leaving.

"Or you could fuck me yourself," He continued, strolling after her as she pushed the cart now full of bagged fruits and whatever else she decided to stock up on.

"That's not clever.." She added, walking faster until she got to her car while he just stood there. He silently observed Chrys bend over just to put her eatables in the trunk of her Lexus. His head lowered itself, slightly tilting to get a better view of the way her ass curved as while she busied herself.

"Says who?" The agent of "justice" raised an eyebrow playfully, only to get scrutinized by the auburn haired woman. She even scoffed as she pusted a group of others she eyed while she walked to her car.

"Says me. Now instead of following me, go do your fucking job-" She'd say abruptly before hopping into Corey and driving off. She'd barely made out the words Gator decided to speak before she took off.

"Be seein' you, darlin," ..

Yeah.. he definitely would be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It wasn't only a few hours before Chrys had driven back out, finding herself subconsciously eyeing the scenery. She kept thinking to herself about how it was a different time. It's not simpler but different. When she had reached a familiar looking ranch, her mind flashed, and all she saw was her father and much younger self. She remembered that day.

The day her dad finally caved in and taught her how to ride a horse. He himself was a horse wrangler, but even then, he taught his children that there was way more to life, partially because of the way he was treated. He wasn't the only horse wrangler, but he was the only black horse wrangler. And with that fact known, he had to seek out issues with his ranch, his horses, and money in 'different' ways.. more difficult ways, as if it wasn't difficult enough.

That day was wonderful, though. It was hard, fun work, picking a pony small enough for her young, petite stature. The riding process was terrifying, Chrys remembering how scared she was to even have the horse move and not hold onto it for dear life. She got over her fear, though, following her father to the ranch every Sunday after church to go ride that damn horse.

On the third day of practice, she named her. Like an idiot, she named her. Her name was Posey. Her mane and coat of fur all black. She was feisty and sassy. But not to Chrys. Chrys was the only one who could tame her. But she wasn't too stubborn to call a quits. Before Chrysanthemum went off to college, Posey passed, having to be put down because her joints were weak. After a while, they were weak enough to break.

Chrys was there when her right back leg broke. She was riding Poesy one last time, not even aware of the pain her horse was going through. A loud crack was heard, both Posey and her younger version screeching in horror as they both fell.

Chrys tumbled off of the black beauty bestowed upon her at a young age, shaking off her twisted ankle and wrist to see what happened. And then the real screeching happened. The one where she called out to her father as blood poured across the ground from the very messed up bone. But when he got there, it was too late.

...There was something significant about that day. About the day she watched the animal, she stupidly named implode on itself. She found it symbolic. And she vowed never to let herself get that far.

Easier said than done when she was planning a massacre.

To be quite frank, she didn't know what she was doing, the vengeful woman ending up tramping in the trailer that was her home all those years ago; a taser in her back pocket and a thigh holster, keeping her 9 millimeter close. The place was abandoned, not even given up as collateral or sold to a new home owner. The furniture and electronics were gone.. probably stolen. Food? Rotten, Chrys finding a particularly rancid smell from whatever mushy and rotten substance that barely held its shape in the fridge.

As her hazel, dull green orbs slowed around the double-wide, something distinct was absent. The pictures. Where were they? She rummaged around through the cabinets, messy drawers along with the rest of the vandalized furniture. She only found 2 photos by the end of her salvage. One of them all together, stained by a little bit of mold, and the other of her when she was younger, when she didn't look so exhausted by the wear of college, work, and whatever she called this.. grieving..? For her, it was.

There used to be substance here. This used to be a decent home, filled with the overbearing love of a 3-person family. It used to be filled with laughter, longing hugs, friendly competition, reassurance.. love. Real, gut-wrenching, admirable love. Something Chrys has been longing for ever since she got here. Now.. the place was just an empty, moldy depiction of what laughter, board games, and lessons her family endured together. Together, they were no more.

Her yearning was shortly interrupted by the small sound of leaves being crushed under a boot. Immediately, her head spun around around see what -or who - made the noise, only to find nothing but the wind and what was previously still behind her to be present. What made it worse was that she still felt the eerie present behind her.

The feeling persisted all week. At her apartment, at the grocery store, at the familiarity of a strip club, when she went back to the abandoned trailer. It just wouldn't go away. That is until she decided to figure out what was making her feel such a way.

Later that night, Chrys found herself in her closet, her pupils small and sharp in focus despite the heavy bags under her eyes. She wasn't going to sleep, not until her intuition got to the bottom of what was unsettling her. Not 20 minutes later, she heard a creak at her bedroom door. She would've assumed it was the air conditioning if she didn't see a grown ass man stomp his way into her space. She stilled, her bulbs following his every move.

His gloved hand placed itself upon every surface it could before he realized she wasn't soundly sleeping on her comfy mattress. She wished that she was, but the intruder made the simple action quite difficult to achieve. When he headed to her bathroom, she stepped out of her small storage unit, it now visible that her hand was gripping a metal baseball bat.

Her smaller frame snuck behind the bathroom door, and then behind him when he returned to the bed. The first time she swung, he dodged it just in time to see her. The second time, he wasn't so lucky, the sound of the hallow pang ringing in his ears as he felt the harsh connection against his right temple. His body fell against the flush of her silk covered mattress, yet he was still conscious. He considered enough to grab the bat before she couldn't hit him again with it, only for her to use the hard edge of her elbow as her next weapon. She still didn't know who it was, the perpetrator hiding his face with a stupid Halloween mask. She would've broken his face in if it wasn't for the disguise. Still, though, it was lights out for him, Chrys not taking any chances or giving mercy. Her funny bone was on fire as the weary girl nonstop plowed against his nearest pressure point.

When he was finally subdued, Chrys pulled off the mask, throwing it in annoyance as she realized who was stalking her. With his hair grossly slicked back and his nose protruding a little too high, she already knew it was the son of a bitch, Gator Tillman.

'Kill him,' was her very first thought. 'Kill him and send his severed head without the skull to his no good father as a warning.' She could easily find the tools, and she was sure he wouldn't be looking for him.. but then a better idea came to mind.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Ringing. During the time he sturred back awake, Gator could still hear the ringing in his ears from the harsh hit to the temple he endured. Cautiously, his eyes found the smooth of slim, chestnut color legs standing in patience for his consciousness to return. When her raging expression met his line of vision, he rolled his eyes with a straining groan.

"Fancy, seein' you here, sugar," He smiled wickedly, the young woman crossing her arms in obvious annoyance.

"Why are you stalking me?" She questioned , only getting a snort out of the dirty cop. Her eye twitched as she watched his range of emotions. His anger that he got caught, his annoyance that it was by some chicken, his aloof thought process on how to escape. It was all clear to Chrys.. that is until he turned his attention back to her.

A smoldering expression took form on his face, one that confused her for a moment. She almost slapped the expression off of his face, that is, until he gave it up. Did he think this was fucking Tangled?

"Just wanted to know why you came back," He finally answered, Chrys biting the inside of her cheek to stop her from injuring him further.

"You know why I came back.."

There was a quick silence between them both after that. It was enough time for Whitlock to remember as well. She allowed her anger and grief to fill her once more with determination. Her hands reached for her 9 millimeter, cocking it back before almost capping one in his head. It just grazed his left ear. It was enough to take a portion of the shell of.

By then, she had the deputy yelling profanities, the very small wound just a warning for he could really experience.

"You bitch," He growled in exhaustion, only getting a small chuckle out the mentally wounded girl.

"Probably," She answered with an eerily warm grin. She watched him suffer just a little more, allowing him to fully curse her out just a little longer. A few "Fucking cunt,"s and "stupid slut,"s later, she finally began to bargain for what she really wanted.

"Listen, as much as I'd love to hear you call me every name under the sun, there's a reason I haven't killed you yet."

She sat her piece back down on the kitchen counter, pushing her to be up by her arms to plop her ass on the counter as well.

"I know your dad knows something about what happened to my family.. and I can't just go up and ask him. He'll blow my head off.." Chrys trailed off for a moment, her eyes fluttering to his in a motion that was all too familiar to him. When she hopped off the corner and onto his lap, it was clear. Gator only tensed up when she settled fully,

"I need to infiltrate from the inside.. and you'll be my perfect cover.." A soft smile came to her face, Gator face contorting into a heavy bit of confusion..

"The hell are you on about..?" The deputy asked until he was shushed by the carress of her stiletto painted fingers tips.

...

Sunday seemed to come quick, Chrys finding herself being greeted into the Tillman household by a taller woman. A brown Bob framing her face with eyes desperate to rain happy.

"Hi! I'm Karen. You must be Gator's fiancé!'' She exclaimed, seeming to be happy there was another woman in the house. A warm smile came to her face the, but the sound of girlish giggles followed along by the feel of tiny hands and arms wrapping around her frilly clothed waist. When her eyes peered down, they found two blonde twins, around 7 or 8.

"Oh.. And who might you two be, hm?" She asked with a slightly teasing voice. When they giggled once more, Karen huffed slightly.

"Girls, where are your manners?" The pale woman snapped, shooing the girls away before turning back to the exotic-looking woman.

"I'm sorry about them! You know how it is," Chrys didn't hear the explanation tangent Karen had gone on, too busy looking at all the furnished wood and marble that made up the walls and furniture a like.. until her peridot colored irises landed on the scorn of the Earth, standing there with his burly arms crossed and his greying hair freshly cut.

This.. was gonna be harder than she ever anticipated.. especially with Roy breathing down her neck every second he got.

[lifeiskentastic]

hey could you write something for Richard Haywood? perhaps a best friends to lovers trope? It would be interesting to see how that would work with a character like Richard

sorry, I thought I wouldn't be too sick but as you can see…

Richard Haywood and gn!Reader as friends to lovers story

Gif by @nikolajwaldau

A/N: Richard is one of my favs actually, but I feel like I got his character a little wrong (tbh I do it with most of my fics) so I just wanted to ask you to point out my mistakes in that regard, because I I don't want to go too far into OOC :")

Summary: At some point, your dear friend Richard became… too tactile?;

Word count: 942 words;

I hope this is what you asked for!

So you had one close friend. A very strange close friend. Although, after so many years together, you have become absolutely accustomed to all the nuances and contradictions of his exotic character.

But lately, there has been something in his behavior that even your trained, hardened mind could not comprehend. Richard has become more tactile.

Well, he used to be able to grab your shoulder out of the blue, hold your hands, and even run his hand through your hair. But at some turning point, he became extremely tactile. That is, now he grabbed your shoulder more firmly, held your hands longer, and even ran his hand through your hair in a less friendly way.

And this could not but confuse you. On top of that, his eyes were becoming more and more cunning with every walk after school. And you, as his friend, knew perfectly well that this would definitely not end well.

So, it was absolutely logical that you decided to do something about this tense situation.

'You became a bit too tactile.'

The only thing that was not absolutely logical in this tense situation was why you asked such a direct question! But the words were already out of your mouth, and there was nothing you could do about it. Fortunately or unfortunately.

'What?'

The angry look of Richard, who had just been interrupted from a very important game machine in the gaming center, turned sharply to you.

You had to swallow hard before starting again:

'Well, you started... touching me more, you know?'

You were sure he would understand. As long as it was in the right way.

'And?' Richard looked at you intently (though more like stared) and began one of his favorite things: gesturing and contorting you. 'Does this give you some new hope?'

His last words were cut short by his amused giggle.

You lowered your head, only not to see your "best friend's" raised eyebrows in derision.

'No! No... You don't understand. I just wanted to say that you are a very tactile person, Richard. That's all.'

'Pfft. "Tactility" and "non-tactility" were invented by losers who are too scared to go up and touch another person.'

'Uh-huh. I see.'

After all these years of friendship, you've long since given up arguing with Richard, so you didn't try this time. But still...

'So you can go up to any person and just touch them?'

'Well, yes.'

'But you still don't touch them as much as you touch me.'

You honestly don't know why you're saying all this. You're just happy to stop, but your mouth refused to shut!

It seems that this statement was so powerful that you even managed to surprise Richard! At least, you hoped that his wry sneer and wide-eyed amusement would indicate that.

'I don't touch them too much, because they're not my friends.' You felt as if Richard's mouth had been cut open with a butter knife. Oh, no, he's just smiling. 'Or did you want to hear something else?'

This time there was no laughter. And that was a bad sign, really. A very, very bad sign.

'No, thank you, I heard everything I wanted to hear.' You hurriedly turned around and pretended to be completely devoted to some nearby game machine. After all, it seems that your "close friend" has begun to get closer and closer. In the physical sense of the word.

'Come on, I'm telling the truth,' Richard moved closer to you, whispering in his sly, quirky voice right into your ear.

You cautiously turned to him, just to look him in the eye, but instead you saw his open lips reaching out to you, and his closed eyelids fluttering slightly. You froze there, half-turned to your friend, your gaze blurred, your limbs numb, and eagerly awaiting what would happen next...

'Ha-ha-ha!'

All you could do at that moment was to gape in confusion. And you couldn't be blamed for that, because when Richard pushed away from you as if you were a wall he had almost run into by accident and started giggling, clutching his stomach... Well, the human body is not capable of any other reaction than "gape in confusion".

'Did you really think I was going to kiss you?' Richard didn't stop laughing for a moment, having already begun to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes. 'Oh, no, no, no, wait, ha-ha-ha... I-I, ha-ha, have to, uh, catch my breath... Ha-ha-ha-ha!'

Finally, your shocked brain has processed all the information that came along with Richard's hoarse laughter. And it did not like this information at all. So now you were blushing. You were blushing with pure anger.

'What, you're not tactile enough for a kiss anymore? "Too scared"?'

Richard, still breathing heavily after his hilarious stunt, held his head high. Slowly, even hints of his former mirth began to disappear from his face. And you didn't know whether this was the reaction you were trying to get with your words or the opposite.

'"Too scared"? You're so sure about that, huh?' It sounds like he was really angry. Well, at least you assumed so when he grabbed you painfully by the jaw, pulling you closer to his angry face, with his teeth clenched tightly and crooked lips. The last thing you remember clearly is the pressure of someone else's lips on yours. And the last conscious thought was just the realization that nothing would be the same. Fortunately or unfortunately. And the last conscious thought was just the realization that nothing would be the same. Fortunately or unfortunately.

***

'So... What do we do now?'

'Actually, we can test your tactility, too.'

[fanartandfanfiction]

The Saga of Meatball the snake, Chapter 2

“Today is Sunday, so I don’t have classes today, but I will tomorrow. You’ll be alone for most of the day.”

“Can I be your seeing eye snake?”

“I don’t think so.” Ominis smiled and extended his hand. “Come on, we’ve got to go see Melody.”

“Yay!”

Meatball slithered up and around his neck and Ominis pulled out his wand and headed towards the garden. Melody had said she was going to bring lunch and all he needed to bring was Meatball and himself.

“She’s here. She’s wearing a dress. Are you sure this isn’t a date?” 

“I don’t think so. Maybe she thinks it is?” Ominis replied.

“I don’t know, but she’s definitely one of the more attractive humans I’ve seen. Some of them are quite weird looking.”

“Hello Ominis! Hello Meatball!” Ominis was surprised when he felt arms around him. “Sorry, I’m a hugger. Apparently Meatball is too!” She laughed as Meatball coiled tightly around them, forcing them against each other.

“Let go of us at once!” 

“How about a ‘you’re welcome?’ Now you’re close to her. Doesn’t she smell nice?”

“Yes.” He answered in English, then blushed. 

“Yes what?” Melody asked, still against him due to Meatball.

“Oh, sorry, he asked if he could explore. Yes, but don’t go too far. People might be frightened to see a snake roaming around.”

“Oh, that reminds me! I have something for Meatball if he’d let us go.”

“A present?” Meatball said excitedly and finally released his hold. 

“I made you a collar! So that way everyone knows you’re a pet and that it’s ok.”

“Um, how is a collar going to stay up on a snake? He’s the same width all the way down, it will just slide around.”

“Um, hello? Magic! Meatball, would you like to wear a collar?”

“What’s a collar?”

“It’s kind of like a belt that goes around your neck, not tightly though. It just shows people that you’re a pet, not wild.”

“So everyone knows I’m yours?” 

“Correct.”

“Then yes! I’m excited.” 

“Alright, he’s excited about it.” Ominis smiled at Melody as Meatball slithered down.

“I even put a little tag on it! It says ‘Meatball, if lost, return me to Ominis Gaunt.”

“Where did you find a snake collar?”

“I made it! Fairly simple.” Melody hummed happily as she put the collar on Meatball.

“Would you mind telling me what it looks like?”

“Of course! I made it Slytherin green, and the tag is a shiny gold color. Meatball looks very dashing in it.”

“I wanna see!” 

“Um, he wants to see.” Ominis said to her. 

“Alright, I have a compact in my bag. Here you go!”

“Oh! I’ve never seen myself before. I’m quite a handsome snake. And the collar looks nice on me. Please tell her thank you.”

“He likes it and says thank you.”

“Aw, anything for my little Meatball. Alright, I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything too fancy for lunch. I made peanut butter and jam sandwiches, but I used lingonberry jam from my country.”

“Oh, where are you from?”

“Sweden. I think you’ll like it, it’s not too different from regular jam. Have a seat! I spread a picnic blanket out.”

Ominis sat down and she handed him a sandwich.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Of course! I love picnicking. I also brought chips, some drinks, and some cookies. And, um, a dead mouse for Meatball if he wants it. Don’t worry, it’s not in the picnic basket.”

“She’s so thoughtful!” Meatball happily flicked his tongue.

She pulled out a mouse from her bag and put it on a plate for Meatball. Ominis took a bite of his sandwich and was surprised at how good the jam was. “This is delicious! What kind of jam did you say this was?”

“Lingonberry.” 

“I’ve never had it, it’s wonderful!” 

After he swallowed another bite of his sandwich, he turned to her. “I have to ask. You seem very comfortable around snakes. Not many people would’ve picked up a snake, especially one of his size.

“Are you calling me fat?” 

“No, you’re just long! Longer than the average snake. He thought I called him fat.” 

“To answer your question, I had a pet snake growing up. My parents worked with exotic beasts and traveled around a lot. They found Bologna, he’d been raised by humans and his owners were killed and he was left alone. He would’ve died if my parents hadn’t rescued him.  He couldn’t be released because he’d literally never been without a human. So they brought him home.”

“I'm sorry, Bologna?” Ominis asked with a smile. 

“I was six, and that was my favorite food. Anyway, Bologna was the sweetest snake. He was always very careful around me. We were inseparable, he slept in my bed with me sometimes. I’m not a parseltongue, but I’ve always had a connection with snakes.”

“I can tell. I don’t know what it is, but when she touches me I feel a strange warmth.”

“He says he can tell, and that when you touch him, he feels a strange warmth.”

“Interesting! I’ll have to look into that.”

“So, Bologna, what kind of snake was he?”

“He was a boa constrictor. About 10 feet long.”

Ominis’ eyes widened. “I was picturing something much smaller.” 

“Nope! Bologna was a big boy. I miss him. He passed away a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Truthfully, I’d considered getting another snake, so being with Meatball is really comforting. 

“You’re more than welcome to come visit him any time you’d like.” Ominis smiled. 

“That would be great!” 

They ate their lunch and chatted, getting to know each other. He learned that she dreamed of opening a beast sanctuary and that she spoke four languages. 

Meatball slithered up Ominis’ arm. “I want to sit with both of you. Scoot over by her.” 

“Oh please, you’re just trying to get us together.” 

“Of course I am. Now scoot!”

“Apologies, Meatball said he wants to sit with both of us and requested I move over by you.”

“You have the better spot against the tree, I’ll come move over by you!” He felt her sit beside him, legs touching. 

“You can put your arm behind me again if it’s more comfortable.”

“Oh, alright.” He gently moved his arm to rest behind her. His fingers brushed against the soft material of her dress. 

“So have you ever had any other pets?” Melody asked him. 

“My older brother had a snake, but he was an asshole.”

“Your brother or the snake?”

“Both.”

“I have a sister. We don’t get along. She’s older than me and a total snob. Aria used to tell people that I was adopted and that’s why I was so weird.”

“Why did she call you weird?” Ominis frowned. 

“Because of my fondness for snakes and other creatures. And I’ll admit, I was an odd child. I didn’t have many friends and I spent all my free time with the beasts.”

“That doesn’t make you odd. You’re just a caring person.”

“Truthfully, I always felt like I connected more with the beasts than people.” Melody said, stroking Meatball’s head.

“So you’re Melody, your sister is Aria…I’m sensing a theme.” Ominis smiled. 

“Yes, my mother is Harmony and my grandmother is Viola.”

“Is there a reason you all have music based names?”

“My grandmother was an opera singer.”

“She wouldn’t happen to be Viola Canti, would she?”

“Ah! You know her.” Melody smiled. 

“Oh yes, my family is big on classical music and opera. So are you a singer?”

“When I have to be. Every Christmas, my family comes together and makes us all sing. I enjoyed it when I was younger, but not so much anymore. Now it’s just stressful.”

“How so?”

“Well, when your grandmother is a world renowned opera singer, you’re kind of under a lot of scrutiny.”

“I could see that.”

“So tell me about you.” Melody said to him.

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know…things you like to do, things you don’t like, normal stuff.”

“Well, I’m quite the introvert, so I enjoy reading. I particularly enjoy putting in headphones and enjoying an audio book, though my wand does allow me to read physical books. I don’t like it when Sebastian drags me along on one of his crazy adventures, but he needs someone with a level head to go with him, otherwise I’d fear he’d never return.”

“How did you and Sebastian become friends?”

“We’ve been friends for a very long time. In our first year, after I was sorted into Slytherin, I was terrified that I’d be treated differently because I’m a Gaunt, and because of my blindness. But Sebastian sat beside me, broke a cookie in half, and handed one half to me. He didn’t treat me any differently than anyone else. He and his sister Anne were a lifeboat that first year for me. I’d made friends who didn’t care about my last name or my disability, and they helped me acclimate to life at Hogwarts.”

Melody was silent for a moment. “So why would people treat you differently because you’re a Gaunt?”

He hated this part. It always made things awkward and uncomfortable. “The Gaunt family is one of the most notorious dark wizarding families. They’re known for their viciousness and cold-blooded demeanor. So usually when people find out I’m a Gaunt, they turn the other way.”

“That’s ridiculous.” 

“I think so, but I also don’t blame them. I don’t like being a Gaunt for the same reasons.”

He jumped when he felt Melody take his hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I want you to know I don’t care about your last name. I think you’re a very kind person, and I won’t treat you differently all because of a silly last name.”

“Thank you, Melody. That means a lot.”

“Kiss her!” 

“No.”

Meatball curled tightly around both of them, forcing them to sit even closer. Ominis could smell Melody’s sweet perfume and feel her silky hair brushing against his skin. 

“Meatball!” Ominis chastised him. “Loosen your grip.”

“No.”

“Stop this right now.” He glared. 

“Gee, is it that bad being close to me?” Melody asked with a giggle.

“Oh! It’s not that at all. I just thought you might be uncomfortable being this close with someone you barely know.”

“Not at all. Besides, I’d say we’re friends now, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” Ominis felt a flutter in his chest. Someone was choosing to be close to him and they wanted to be his friend. That didn’t happen often.

“It’s so nice out today.” Melody sighed. “Ideally I’d just stay here all day, but the poachers are due to arrive about two.”

“How do you know that?” Ominis asked. 

“I have an insider. He gives me the info I need, and in return I DON’T kick his ass.”

“I suppose that’s a good bargain.” Ominis smiled. “Sebastian mentioned he’d gone with you a few times.”

“Yes, but we have different approaches. I prefer a more stealthy approach. Sebastian goes in blasting fire. I ask him to come in with me for the bigger camps, but most of the time I prefer to do it quietly and alone. This one today shouldn’t be too bad. Probably about 15-20 poachers.”

“That’s one of the smaller ones?” Ominis asked, surprised.

“Yep. The really small ones are easy. Usually 5-10 people. You could come with me sometime if you’d like.”

“I think I’d probably hold you back.” He smiled. 

“Up to you! The worst part is the trek through the forbidden forest. You never know what you’ll find there. Though sometimes I find some good potion ingredients. I bring them to Professor Sharp.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“I know he can use them, and it’s difficult for him to procure them himself sometimes. He often gives me healing potions. Also he kind of looks out for me.” Melody was silent for a moment. “My father…is absent a lot. He and my mother divorced and he spends all his time on expeditions. Professor Sharp is kind of like a father figure to me. I know it’s weird, he’s my teacher, but he looks out for me more than my own father ever did.”

“I think that’s nice.” Ominis gave her a reassuring smile.

“The first time he caught me coming back late, he was ready to give me detention, until he realized I was injured. He brought me to his office and asked what had happened. When I explained, I expected to get in more trouble. Instead he said, while he didn’t approve of what I was doing, it was a good thing and to come see him before I went out again. He’d give me all the potions I needed.”

“That’s nice that he helps you out.”

“Yeah, he’s not as bristly as he looks.” She smiled. 

They sat and chatted for a little while more before she looked at the time. “Crap, I’ve gotta go get changed and head to the forest. I had fun today!”

“Me too.” Ominis smiled. 

“Let’s do it again sometime. Alright Meatball, time to let me go.” She started to get up when Ominis grabbed her arm. 

“I know it’s silly, but would you let me know when you got back safely?”

“That’s not silly. I’ll text you.” She squeezed his arm, then used her wand to clean up the picnic.

“Alright, see you later.” He stood up and she pulled him into a hug. He was briefly overwhelmed with the closeness of her, her perfume, her warm hands, her soft dress. Then she pulled away and left. 

“You like her.”

“Oh hush.”

[gunkbaby]

if Shuu was a human what would his top 5 favourite foods be?

ooh good one. This is tricky bc shuu is such a picky eater, but still has this ‘eat the world’ attitude, i think one thing abt human shuu aus rly neglect to compensate for is how closely tied Shuu is to the idea of being an apex predator, but I think you can still achieve it, and I will try my best! i do know a bit abt gourmet food! (There are actually a lot of books abt food critics and gourmet chefs who get 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕪 with cooking)

i feel like is also hard bc shuu would probably like everyone to think his favourite food is something rare and exotic so maybe he would twist the truth a little. Narrowing down specific foods is difficult but I will try my best!

Kaneki’s bussy

Orlotan - this fucked me up when i heard about it. But the practice of eating orlotan is utter decadence - to a ridiculous extent. It’s a bit like Foie Gras - the orlotan are wild caught and force fed to double their mass, then drowned and marinated in Armagnac and then cooked. It’s meant to be consumed whole, the bones spat out, and typically, the consumer is traditionally supposed to wear a napkin or towel over their face whilst they eat the bird. I can’t remember why - but I’ve seen it said that is either to maintain dignity when spitting out the bones, or to shield such a disgraceful act from God’s eyes. The latter sounds cool as fuck so i believe it. I love Jesus!!! I think Shuu would lap something like that up. I’ve yet to find something so dreadfully French in the matter of food, and I think he’d probably say this is his favourite food - if only for the amount of ceremony involved.

Cheesecake - Shuu always mentioning cheesecake in early TG and I would like to give him this one as a little treat. I don’t know a lot abt cheesecake bc i fucking hate the stuff but maybe he’d like something like Basque? Which is just burned custard(?) cheesecake - i was reminded of tiramisu but apparently it’s more of a soufflé. I think he’d probably go for something floral too - rose cheesecake’s probably a thing, lavender, peony. I don’t know if I see him as a sweet/dessert person. He’s more likely to enjoy richer desserts like cheesecake and chocolates.

Dark Chocolate - maybe a sneak! I am a Dark Chocolate Enjoyer so total bias but hear me out (yes i do also like black liquorice!). If it is less than 80% cocoa it’s too sweet! He’d be a 100% kind of guy, because bragging rights. I think he might enjoy it with some fruits, maybe with orange biscuits or raspberries. I think he’d like raspberries, they taste like little rubies to me. Dark chocolate goes good with almond butter, he might make it fancy - foamed raspberry with shredded chocolate over almond biscuits with coffee cream. we might call that a rather bizarre mocha, but shuu would say it’s a deconstructed tiramisu. the reason i think he’d choose dark chocolate is because i don’t think he’d eat sweets. Dark chocolate has a deeper taste profile, in my experience dark chocolate is always unique. This might appeal to Shuu. It goes well with far more flavours than typical chocolate - spices, florals, etc - i recently had dark chocolate almonds dusted in matcha! They were utterly divine. Dark chocolate is highly overrhated in my opinion.

Exotic Meat - this is a generalisation sorry 😢 But I believe it canonical - very premium cuts of meat from animals you might not typically farm - zebra, bear, crocodile, rattlesnake, that sort of thing. It’s really controversial for some reason and as a vegan I should be opposed, but I think wild hunting is leagues better than farming, provided it’s not an endangered species, but Shuu would definitely eat an endangered species. Maybe he likes to brag and his favourite meat is snow leopard, or something. Dodo. Dinosaur, even (he was There).

Fugu (pufferfish) - this is shorthand for ‘dangerous food’ lol! Without the danger of being a ghoul, we have to consider how a human shuu might chase this danger. He might hunt his exotic meats, but I think he might try and achieve this by also eating dangerous food - food that’s poisonous or toxic. a bit of a Russian roulette. I wouldn’t even put it beneath a human or a ghoul Shuu to eat something with worms! (Same tbh. Would.)

i think most of the above are what Shuu might want people to believe are his favourite foods, so I’d like to take some time to throw my other ideas in the ring.

I think he’d take comfort in Monte Cristo - if only because in a human universe, I would take it to be his father’s favourite food. He’d probably be given it as a child or something, so good associations. There’s not much rly to say else there, but the idea of Shuu eating a toastie fascinates me. If he eats it when he’s sad, i think he’d look like that little mouse video, but otherwise I think he’d eat a toastie with a knife & fork.

I mentioned dark chocolate earlier, but of course he might also like some luxury chocolates - i think of these wonderful chocolates i saw once, that had been dyed and marbled to look like planets and marbled, filled with pistachio or coffee foams. Wonderful. Straight from switzerland or italy. Maybe he would enjoy ruby chocolate too? I’ve never had it! I said no sweets but white chocolate has a time and place, but it works wonderfully with wasabi or miso - i made wasabi and white chocolate cupcakes once. Good lord. He would like that. White chocolate and nuts is also very good. When I was vegetarian, my guilty pleasure used to be salted liquorice dipped in white chocolate - but I don’t know if he’d like that!

i think he’d eat sea urchin.

Some drinks too! -

Coffee: specifically coffee with blue seaweed or Kopi Iuwak. He’s definitely tried it, but does he like it? Who knows? I’ve always wanted to try seaweed coffee. Kopi Iuwak is coffee beans that’s already passed through the digestive system of a civet. It sounds like a bit of a farce to me, but i don’t think it’s as repulsive as people make out.

matchaaaa - bias i just think everyone should drink matcha

moon milk - i’ve never had this bc broke but it sounds so good. I think he’d like the pink/rose milk the most! maybe the blue spirulina?

Nut milks - vegan bias but seriously who can honestly argue cow juice tastes better than a refreshing glass of cashew milk??? Shuu would probably have something like pistachio milk, tigernut, brazil nut, macadamia -that sort of thing! Stuff you can’t get from the shops!

People will probably kill me if I don’t mention escargot or frogs legs so. Obligatory mention. Personally I find that to be rather typical and cliched - ooh, mandatory french food! So bizarre! Whatever. Partly why this ask took me a long time to get to, is because I wanted to go through my books and notes. It would have been easy for me to sit here and type that human Shuu would eat lobster and ragyu and live baby shrimp in miso soup, but i think it’s too obvious. In my experience, there is so much more to get out of Shuu when you delve deeper and don’t say the first thing!

i also want to say, sometimes i see how we (westerners) talk about food from different cultures. lots of high-class gourmet stuff seems silly, but i dont care to mock it. i can’t enjoy food anymore, but it makes me happy that some people enjoy food enough to make it a silly and pompous hobby. But i think sometimes we look at frogs legs or zebra steaks, orlotan or fugu, fermented egg, people eating guinea pigs, chihuahua or cat, sometimes we have a tendency to say it’s gross and twisted, but i don’t think that’s necessary. if something tastes good, if an animal has good meat, then why not? eating the world is sometimes a good thing. not always, but sometimes.

This question made me think a lot, so thank you! I was thinking about a human shuu - all the stories you could make up! There’s a lot to sink your teeth into!

I’m sorry if this was incoherent last night i took 40 laxatives and i just drank 2 monster energy back to back I feel very sane!!!!

[trueaffections]

hanna children's palates emergency list.

cora's nostalgic i'll stop saying it soon. artificial flavors, simplicity. back to a better time. sweet sweets, bright fruity flavors, fried foods warm and salty and dense. orange slices and pretzel sticks and dry cereal by the handful. it tastes like summer vacation and unspent potential.

finn's tastes are rich, deep, indulgent. taking the bull on by the horns. red meat, dark wines, bitter chocolates. cashews and layered exotic flavors. definitely a guy with a chili recipe he's got a lot of opinions about. up to try anything once.

zoe's tastes are more delicate. she likes it sweet and light. white honeyed wines, salads with slightly soured dressings, and fresh bread with butter. basic perhaps, but good things don't have to be flashy. a perfectly ripe tomato is more rare and precious than caviar.

maisyn likes food that comforts. creamy mac and cheese, thick soups and chowders in the winter, a plate of fries for the table, an english muffin smothered in cookie butter. she's free-styling, hedonistic cravings win. some call it munchies but she'd call it going with the flow.

ayla likes something flashy. like she's always going to go for whatever sounds the chicest. seafood risottos, gelato, anything with truffles. she's curious as to what's going on with the cronut. a little pretentious but also known to be a menace up in the local froyo shop after a breakup. we can't be on all the time.

rylan's tastes are pretty classic. if it ain't broke, don't fix it. he likes green beans, poultry, potatoes in any and all forms. now he's picky with it. because he grew up in a house where you got a pretty good baseline idea of what these foods were supposed to taste like. but he's pretty easy to please. very into thanksgiving (finn will still eat more, but rylan will feel it deeper.)

orla is probably the hardest to peg because i think she's the most willing to like explore new things. light, refreshing, sweet are obviously all things that come to mind as a baseline, but i think as she grows and continues in her own culinary journey, she's learning how good it can be to have something creamy or rich or spicy or literally whatever. like i think she'd on a mission to expand the way she thinks about food as a whole. that's my fucking girl.

[i-dont-even-know-anymore976]

10 People I’d Like to Get to Know More

I finally have time to do this! Thank you @therealstacyfakename for the tag - I love these things 🥰

Last song - I Can Do It With A Broken Heart by Taylor Swift (i think?? it’s the last song I remember hearing from the CD in my car)

Favourite Colour - pink!

Last Book - so the last book i finished reading was Book of Life by Deborah Harkness but i actually finished the audiobook of Butter by Asako Yuzuki the same day so kind of both?

Last Movie - i’m literally watching the netflix adaptation of Persuasion rn so i guess that (i know it’s kind of a marmite movie but personally i love it)

Last TV Show - Below Deck Med! finally getting a chance to catch up on the most recent season - usually i watch any below deck religiously (tho will say the current season of sailing yacht is just not below-decking in the way i want it to)

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy - SWEET 🍫🍫

Relationship Status - single

Last Thing Googled - Schumacher Exotic Butterfly Spring (it’s a beautiful fabric) (also this is technically a lie but the real answer would dox me so this is what you get)

Looking Forward To - lunch with my cousin next weekend - she has the cutest dogs! i cant wait to see them 😍

Current Obsession - fandom-wise still deep in the 9-1-1 trenches but quickly being drawn into rivals (rupert/taggie has awoken something in me i swear). in real life tho i’ve got really into upholstery and sewing?

Tagging a few people - no pressure tho 🥰

@cellsshapedlikestars @sageblck @roaringredpandas @timelessloveandpoetry @floatingseaotter @iamcarito @athomewithwordsj @howeverlongs @thehalforclibrarian @beccadressedinblood

[nightmare-foundation]

ok enlighten me what is your glitchtrap michael theory . i’ve NEVER seen anyone else say this im so curious, i gotta hear the reasoning

Okay sorry this took a while to answer, I needed to put together my thoughts on this

Basically where I started with the 'Michael is Glitchtrap' theory is basically like. Process of elimination kinda?

I noticed that Glitchtrap didn't fit either William OR the Mimic. Glitchtrap is, well, not robotic from my perspective. He's sentimental for one (putting together the staffbots to look like the Aftons, the SL living room, Vanessa and Gregory directly referencing and paralleling Elizabeth and CC, etc), and doesn't really act like an ai program built to mimic things, unlike the Mimic seen in Ruin.

On top of that, Glitchtrap holds back. He has explicit rules; you have to find him, put his tapes together, and consent to merging with him (this is important). If this was William, he wouldn't bother putting together all these rules. Not only that, but Vanessa, Gregory, and Cassie are all still alive. And Glitchtraps appearance too- he's a costume, not a springlock suit. William always explicitly associated himself with spring Bonnie. Not the character, but the actual springlock suit itself.

Also, Glitchtrap knows things neither William nor the mimic WOULD know. The biggest clue is the Exotic Butters- how would William, and thus the Mimic, know about something only Michael would know?? And it goes deeper.

The color theory doesn't match up, either. William went from yellow (Midnight Motorist) -> purple (fnaf 2 and 3 minigames) -> yellow (springtrap). It's pretty clear that after William dies, he's associated with YELLOW now. His story is also over too, this was established with UCN.

Michael is sort of the opposite. The first time we see him, if you don't count fnaf 4, he's wearing purple. The next time in ffps, he's wearing yellow and blue. The natural next step is that he'd be associated with purple again. There's a LOT going on with the color theory too (yellow can mean both royalty and sickness, purple can Also be royalty and corruption, etc), in a way that connects to their stories.

Glitchtrap is purple; or, at least, his true form seen in PQ is. He's depicted as a costume deliberately; the yellow throws you off, it's not the truth. But take it off and you get a big black and purple blob. Not only that, it's a COSTUME. Michael has always, always been associated with masks, which are a part of costumes. William is associated with springlock animatronics, not costumes, even if they double as one, which says a lot to his own character.

Not only THAT, but everything since Help Wanted 1 and even the AR game has been referencing Sister Location, fnaf 4, and FFPS. Michael is the certain protagonist of ALL of these games, both directly confirmed or hinted at (yes fnaf 4 is Michael's nightmares after he actually got tortured by William post CC death, you'll have to tear this out of my cold dead hands). Michael is also repeatedly referenced in Security Breach, with the constant references to butters in sticky notes, again, only something he would know.

Also, of the main cast, Foxy is the only one that's missing. Foxy is VERY important to Michael and his character, and the different iterations of Foxy, especially Funtime Foxy and Ringmaster Foxy, are especially important. Yes I do think that each of the Funtimes represent the Aftons, and FT Foxy represents Michael. So we can gleam that Michael, similarly to his father, is a performer. He's the leader; the captain, the ringmaster, the older brother. This is hammered in with his monologue and the Security Logbook. This fits in exactly with Glitchtrap. He's theatrical, he performs, he pretends.

As for HOW Michael would've become Glitchtrap, I believe the circuit boards FazEnt got were from the computer in the ffps office. William is trapped in UCN, the Mimic was still trapped behind the wall in Ruin, and I don't think the mimic1 program existed at the time (not to mention Glitchtraps behavior doesn't fit mimic1).

Michael easily could've possessed those circuit boards on accident. You might be asking- well, Michael was dead, all of his Remnant would've burned up. And, honestly, I don't think he actually DID die at the end of SL.

Baby explicitly says "You won't die". The Scooper also injects Remnant into you, which is known to keep you alive and heal you. As for the rotting, that can easily be explained away as Michael literally being one giant walking infected wound. The scooper tore him apart stomach to throat, and Ennard went inside, tearing him apart internally. When wounds are bad enough, they rot, especially when they're left to fester and get infected. Besides, it would've been impossible to possess his own corpse. Remnant is best conducted by metal, not rotting flesh. And I doubt Ennard would've left enough of itself behind for Michael to actually control his own body.

So, Michael was likely actually alive and fully healed by FFPS. Thus, when he burned to death, he would've ended up possessing the nearest electronic things- the circuit boards in the computer. Whether or not he actually wanted to die (I don't think he did) matters; he possessed it anyways.

As for why he's now the main antagonist of the new games- well, I don't think he's evil. I think he's being affected by Agony.

Since the blob is one massive ball of leftover Agony from the rest of the animatronics, I think it's possible Glitchtrap has his own Agony too, especially if it's true that Remnant turns into Agony when burned up like I think it does. It'd explain why he's all black and goopy, since I believe Agony is described as a black, tar-like substance.

Some of Glitchtraps appearance would also be explained by Michael being him, such as the tears that are on the suit and his true form. Usually, lost souls are what have those tear tracks, like the dead kids. William has never been depicted with those same marks, EVER.

A lot of the above also explains why I don't think Glitchtrap is evil. I don't think Michael is fully sane, and Glitchtrap has a duality theme going on (purple and green are opposites on the digital spectrum). Plus, as I said, he actively holds back. He's cruel yes, and he's killed a fuck ton of people, but he sets rules and let's Vanessa, Gregory, Cassie, and for a time, Cassies dad, all live.

Also, he's a WAY more successful killer than William. He's smart, and while I wouldn't call William an idiot, he's not exactly good at hiding things. He's arrogant, believes he'll never die ("I always come back!"), he's theatrical to his own detriment, etc. Even in SL it was extremely obvious he was already being questioned, and was nearly caught and jailed. He died to CHILD GHOSTS. And Vanessa and Glitchtrap have never been suspected, not ONCE.

People really like to act like Michael is stupid, but he's FAR from it. He knew what was happening in SL, and pieced things together Really Fucking Quickly (in less than a WEEK). He also likely suspected Williams crimes beforehand, and if he hadn't in fnaf 1, he definitely figured it out in SL. He also very likely created fnaf 3; the building matches ffps's confusing labyrinth layout, clearly set up to burn down, the collection of Fazbear stuff, the audio lures, and the "to you, from working architect" in the security logbook. And then he helped Henry with the FFPS location, and possibly built the Rockstar animatronics (I say this bc it's a mix of Williams and Henry's styles of animatronics; the hard outer casing, extra abilities i.e. Freddy's coin thing, but they're cute, like Henry's, BUT the Michael thing is that they're.. well, Rockstars. I also think Michael made the plans for the Glamrocks but FazEnt stole them for these reasons lmao). Michael is far, FAR from an idiot, and all of these show he's actually REALLY fucking smart, likely smart enough that William felt threatened by him (part of why he was likely sent to the SL bunker). Glitchtrap is also clearly Very Intelligent.

Another part is that Glitchtrap doesn't hurt children. In one of the SB endings, on the newspaper it says 'missing locals', not missing children. Gregory and Cassie were never directly harmed by him either. Cassie was completely safe in the mall pre-Ruin, and Gregory seemed fine too, if possessed by Glitchtrap. It's never stated that CHILDREN are hurt, only the staff.

Also Glitchtrap is,, very sentimental. Neither William nor the Mimic would be sentimental about the Aftons, but Michael WOULD. He cares deeply about his family if SL is any indication, and would explain his favoritism towards Gregory, the CC lookalike.

Glitchtrap being Michael would ALSO explain why Cassies dad (aka bonniebro) was spared, long enough for the spirits in the staffbots to get JEALOUS. After all, what exactly makes him so special? He's Michael's old friend. Neither William nor the Mimic would care.

Also springtrap is consistently depicted as terrifying and beastly. Especially in hw2, where the place burns down and Springtrap hunts you down. William would've shown himself as the pinnacle of his inventions, not a nightmarish monster.

Oh, and another note, but almost every time William is in the game, whether in the background or not, Golden Freddy aka Cassidy is always there. Fnaf 1, 2, and 3 ('shadow freddy') follow this formula, but she's not there in fnaf 4, or SL, though I imagine she's not there in FFPS because William is already trapped, and for good this time.

The same goes for Michael and the Puppet/Charlie. Charlie is in fnaf 1 (implied in fnaf 2), fnaf 2 (the party Jeremy got bit at was for Michael), fnaf 3, fnaf 4, and FFPS. The exception is SL, but I believe it's because William is dead by then.

Notice how Cassidy doesn't show up past fnaf 3, but Charlie keeps showing up as the plushies. There's near constant references to her in every. Single. Steel Wool game. It's hard to NOT see it it's so often. So it's very likely Michael is still around, and only hammers in that he's likely Glitchtrap.

Also, writing-wise, it makes sense for him to become the new antagonist since FNAF was soft-rebooted. Typically the old protagonist is still important in soft reboots, whether that's as an important historical figure or the next games/series/movies antagonist, or a driving point for the next protagonist (think Peter Parker and Tony Stark). It also fits thematically, since it'd be a really weird spin around for the new villain to be an AI (doesn't fit fnafs formula) and having William be the villain Again would just be lazy writing.

Collapses. Okay I probably missed some things BUT. That's my main points. There's WAY more that goes into a much bigger theory (like PQ is Obviously Vanessa being freed from Glitchtrap, fnafs timeline, the ghost kids are back and are wanting to free Michael, the SW games are based on I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream, etc), but that's mostly what I have for Glitchtrap Michael.

Feel free to look up everything I'm talking about, I haven't bothered to put anything up but I have all of my facts straight. I've considered pretty much every other option in order to TRY to disprove my own theory, but every single new game and book only keeps proving me right unfortunately LMAO.

I've had this theory since like... before Ruin. I've had So much time to get everything straight. I'm sad no one else sees what I see lol.

Have fun with this :3

[starmatzz]

Chapter 3: Bounding

Treasure Of Utopia

Seonghwa woke up the next morning, all comfy and wrapped in a blanket. Nothing much happened last night. Hongjoong just entered his quarters and told him he will sleep in a hammock next to the bed. Seonghwa didn't mind, he was more than glad he doesn't have to share the bed with a pirate.

Hongjoong was still sleeping and Seonghwa took it as an opportunity to observe him more closely.

He had a sharp, pointed nose, defined jawline and dark hair which were getting longer on his neck, looking relatively close to a mullet.

"It's not polite to stare at people while they sleep.."

Seonghwa flinched and laid on his back, frowning. "I wasn't..." he mumbled, hearing Hongjoong chuckle.

"Are you hungry?" Hongjoong asked, rubbing his eyes. Sleeping in the hammock wasn't the most comfortable, but he sacrificed himself for the sake of the prince's comfort.

Seonghwa hummed, sitting up.

"I will bring you some food then." Hongjoong got up, stretching. He put his shoes on and brushed his hair back.

"I wanna go with you." Seonghwa demanded, getting out of the bed as well. He was tired of having to be locked in all the time. Besides, he was sure nobody could hurt him if he stayed by Hongjoong's side.

"No, it's not safe. I need to talk to them first." he replied simply, leaving Seonghwa once again alone in the quarters.

As he walked into the dining room, most of his crewmen were already eating.

"Mornin', captain!" Wooyoung shouted from the back of the room, waving with his hand holding a wooden spoon. Hongjoong greeted them all and stood up in front of the big table, raising his arm up to get their attention.

The room went instantly quiet, making Hongjoong feel pleased.

"As you know, we have an omega on our ship. So I would like to ask all of you to treat him with respect. He is a prince after all..." Hongjoong scanned the place, eyes setting on Mingi whose expression was blank.

"I don't want him to just have to rot in my room all day. I want him to be able to sit here with us comfortably. So take this as an order and a warning..whoever touches him in ways he would not like will be immediately punished." he looked at everyone for the last time before sitting down next to Jongho.

"Good thing you said that..after you left yesterday, he was the main topic and let's say..it wasn't anything appropriate." Yeosang said, sitting next to Hongjoong from the other side.

"Like I expected anything different from them.." Hongjoong sighed, spreading butter on a freshly baked bread.

Wooyoung joined them too, placing a tray with fruits and a slice of apple pie on the table.

"Here, for Seonghwa." he smiled, sitting next to Jongho. Hongjoong thanked him; he was glad at least some of them were treating the prince nicely.

After the breakfast, Hongjoong entered his quarters with the tray in his hand. Seonghwa was sitting on the bed, inspecting one of Hongjoong's maps.

"Here.." he placed the tray on the bed and sat down on a chair nearby.

Seonghwa's mouth started watering just by the sight of yummy exotic fruits and warm apple pie.

"Who's making these..?" he asked, mouth full of the sweet pastry.

"Wooyoung, our chef. He's very skilled." Hongjoong replied, eyes focused on the prince. He observed the way he held the piece of pie in his hand, covering his mouth after every bite.

"What's your favorite food?" the pirate suddenly asked, making Seonghwa look at him. He seemed confused, why was he suddenly asking him a question like this.

"Hotteok.." he said simply.

Hongjoong frowned, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy. "What's that?"

"You don't know what's hotteok?" Seonghwa asked, even more confused than Hongjoong. "It's like a pancake, filled with sugar, cinnamon and peanuts," he swallowed last bite of the apple pie "but you can fill it with many other things."

Hongjoong hummed while nodding. It must've been something known only in royal cuisine.

"Yours..?" Seonghwa asked.

"What?" Hongjoong said.

"Your favorite food." Seonghwa smiled, and Hongjoong noticed how pearly white his teeth were.

"Uhm...I guess potato soup.." he shrugged. He never was into fancy foods, especially when they didn't have access to many ingredients. They usually stopped at a random port from time to time, to stock on important supplies such as potatoes, meat, flour, vegetables and occasionally fruits.

"I often helped the royal cook make potato soup. It's the best in the world." Seonghwa replied with a smile.

"Really?" Hongjoong asked, "but nothing beats Wooyoung's cooking." He said, voice lingering with a teasing tone.

"Do you wanna bet?" Seonghwa said confidently.

"Sure." Hongjoong moved closer to him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"If Wooyoung's soup is better..I will sleep in the hammock instead of you." Seonghwa said.

"Sounds good, and if yours is better?" Hongjoong asked, not realizing he's been looking into the prince's eyes too much.

"If mine is better.." he thought for a split second, "you will stop by an island."

"An island?" the captain frowned.

Seonghwa sighed, placing the empty tray on the other half of the bed. He laid down and put his hand on his stomach.

"I've never seen a beach in real life..only in books. I wanna see the rain forest, coconuts growing on palm trees and monkeys."

Hongjoong listened to him carefully. What he saw pretty much often, was Seonghwa's biggest dream.

"Crystal clear water, colorful shells..and..and feeling warm sand under my feet." he closed his eyes, imagining the scenery.

"My tutor always told me about those pretty beaches, but I was never allowed to leave the kingdom.."

Hongjoong smiled softly, watching the prince lie in bed. His soft features, messy platinum white hair, slender fingers resting on his hips.

"Deal then." he reached his hands towards him.

Seonghwa opened his eyes and sat up, shaking his hand. "Deal."

Hongjoong was surprised how soft Seonghwa's hand was, compared to his; rough from all the constant hard work on the ship.

They continued to chat for a while, slowly getting to know each other. They also found out they share a lot of similarities; they both loved the ocean, sweets and hated waking up early.

Seonghwa seen Hongjoong as brave and responsible person, listening to his stories of getting into fights with other pirate ships.

"There's this one pirate, whose family my family was rivals with.." he said, looking down, "and we're fighting until now, but I haven't seen him for a while." Hongjoong mumbled, scratching his head.

"What's his name?" Seonghwa asked, listening to Hongjoong's gripping story.

"His name is-"

"Captain, we are getting close to a town. Should we stop nearby?" his speech got interrupted by Yunho knocking on the door.

Hongjoong thought for a while; they need to stock up anyway.

"Yes, tell Yeosang to take the helm." he ordered, making sure Yunho heard him through the closed door. Then there were footsteps disappearing in the distance, signaling Yunho leaving.

Hongjoong turned to the prince.

"We will be stopping at a town to stock up, do you need anything?" he asked.

Seonghwa thought for a moment. Maybe this could be his time to run away.

Go to next chapter

[the-trinket-witch]

Hello! Long time no see, skele-pal! I need to know No. 17 for all-

ask meme here: (Also HOI HOI!!! You get to meet The Cook and Mr Khan too, now!)

What is the weirdest thing your oc regularly eats? (I'm changing it a little by adding 'the oddest thing your OC has ever eaten')

Albert:

Being from Altus, RQ, he's had exposure in trying things like Pie and Mash (which so happens to have eel in/accompanying it). It isn't often, but he does still enjoy the dish on occasion. As well, He's tried Chicharrón de pulpo. This was only on accident, though, as it was in the weeks following Azul's attempts to take the Dorm from them. Yuu had learned how to 'Passive aggressively' cook things like the aforementioned octo-chicharrón to pointedly bring to lunch. Needless to say: Yuu smugly shared some with the Twins, while said Tweels got a show in the grave face Al made on the realization.

Yuu:

This is probably the weirdest that others would probably balk at but: huitlacoche, corn smut or 'mexican truffle'. They loved how their grandma could make it a big deal because of how difficult it is to get a hold of fresh. 'Canned never tastes the same, mi hijo' She would say.

Tidus:

It might be easier to count on fingers things the dude hasn't tried yet. There were a few misses, but some like okonomiyaki were a knock outta the park. Similar to how Floyd likes making odd takoyaki concoctions, Tidus loves putting different things in okonomiyaki to see what works and doesnt.

Lázaro:

He has a pretty varied palate, but the one he just couldn't get into were fluffernutters (Peanut butter/marshmallow fluff sandwiches). Something others might think 'odd' he eats on the regular though, would be menudo, only because of the tripe.

The Janitor:

They motion that while they don't have a sense of taste, they do experience temperature differences and textures. Because of that, many a non-edible thing has been chewed on, with the one of the least preferred textures being non-neutonian fluid. AKA Gak/slime/putty. They describe it as squeaky, cold and sometimes grainy.

Aadesh:

He has had a chance to try a lot of things, being the closest underling to Mr. Khan. His consistent 'irregular' favorite is beef tar-tare. The strangest thing he's tried (and didn't like) was snake wine. He only choked it down at the insistence of Mr. Khan, one evening, having to feign an absence of utter disgust.

Jon Teach:

"Ahaha! Y'can eat most anything if ye fry it in enough butter and salt! The things ye can stomach, though, when the billfold's feeling a bit light and the fishin's been rough."

Mr. Khan:

Something he enjoys on a more regular basis is shark curry. He has tried sharkfin soup and birds nest soup, but prefers the greater substance in something like curry. The 'Strangest' thing he's ever consumed isn't something he'll put in his financial books. He has a taste for more 'exotic' meat. (Read: hard to obtain due to regulations or ethical concerns)

[pjulian]

Lilac Patisserie - Aptly named for gay nerds

In the mood for some gay brunch and pastry, Saturday morning brought us to the ever fancy “lilac patassery,” as julian calls it.

Like many white people coffee spots in the area, I had been wanting to try it out for a while. A decently long line of people awaited as we got there.

They seem to have a large collection of cakes and tarts and things that made me want to pee myself or something. Truly tempted by the lemon cheesecake but the lemon merengue tarts captured me more. Lemon will always be seductive to me.

Anyways, a cute $80 pricetag for two mains, the tart and two lattes and we were seated.

A wonderfully gay man informed me and julian that he would “recommend that we cut the tart” after he watched us nearly break our forks trying to take bites. Tart pictured here, post destruction:

Things came out pretty quickly, lattes following soon after. I always enjoy cute latte art, although they gave me the GIRL design. Just kidding. The lattes were a decent size, julian’s was his coveted mocha, mine was a caramel latte.

Unsure if caramel meant sea salt caramel? A sip of mine tasted almost salty, however it was quickly fixed with a sugar packet. Very good afterwards.

Post-latte was only another few minutes until the food came out. I got the classic breakfast, something delightfully american. julian got his favorite french toast.

The breakfast was good. Being a bakery, they had some thick fluffy bread for toast which was its own experience. A little sugary for my taste but, good nonetheless. The potatoes were my favorite part, mostly nice and soft and well seasoned (with the exception of one half raw piece). That being said, Lilac makes an interesting decision to pair the potatoes with a sea of roasted onion and bell pepper. Honestly I didn’t even touch the onions, not wanting to deal with the monstrosity of onion breath for the rest of the year. The apple chicken sausage offered was a little bland, but good. Not an exceptional amount of flavor but I just love sausage. Overall the food was decent but not spectacular.

Most of the points for this place come from the atmosphere. Nice lavender walls and a really clean and dainty french feel. I don’t know how often i can justify a full breakfast at the price point but it’s definitely a place to return to. Campy and gay enough for me!

★ ★ ★ ★ / 5

Warm wishes,

pj

Read julian’s thoughts on his food below ⬇️

i was most surprised by the speed of the service as pj already pointed out, everything was delivered to us pretty quickly and paced out well. the tart itself i enjoyed but im also not really one for messy food and the gay guy telling me how to cut the thing was embarrassing so i cant really give it too glowing of praise but its also a pretty personal thing, if you like creamy desserts and gay men humiliating you then its probably great. the mocha was good just a little too sweet, i prefer it a bit more bitter but again thats personal taste it was still very good. i liked the leaf on it was very sad when i drank it to the point of complete dissolution.

the french toast was served with a cup of butter, syrup, and a side of assorted fruit. pretty average presentation but strawberries with french toast is like crack to me so i cant bring myself to care too much, dont need anything too exotic to enjoy the meal with.what definitely surprised me though was that i typically hate blueberries but the ones served here were actually great with a very consistent ripeness and sweetness to the point that it may have turned me around on the fruit a little. like sorry blueberries i didnt realize you could taste like that. the toast itself was pretty decent too although i wish it was served with a little more syrup, it was like a tiny cup i need the whole gallon.

despite lilacs pattassery not entirely aligning with my autistic inclinations id say it was a pretty good dining experience overall especially if youre normal. you got to hand it to white people. but only sometimes. id give it 3.5 stars out of 5.

best regards,

julian

Lilac Patisserie: 3.75 ★

[nonhumanresources]

Caramel Changes

Here's one to get you into the spirit of the season! Short two page TF written all the way back in October 2017, when I did a series of stories for the season. I'd love to do more, autumn is my favorite time of year.

Summary: you get a weird piece of candy while trick or treating. You probably shouldn't eat that. You do.

What to expect: second person caramel-coating bird TF.

Length: 1.2k words. Fun fact, it's actually 1200 exactly including the title; I usually round.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Trick-or-treat!” you shout, holding out a pillowcase nearly filled to the brim. The frail old woman standing in the doorway smiles, showing off her three teeth.

“Oooh, hello there!” she says, her voice as rusty as the hinges on the door. “I’ve got some very exotic candy for you tonight! I made it myself, you know!” There’s a twinkle in her eye as she speaks, dropping a single wrapped caramel in each of your friend’s pillowcases, ending with yours, giving you a toothy smile and a small wink. She waves goodbye as you thank her and turn from the door, walking back down the weedy, unkempt walkway of cracked cement and back to the smooth sidewalk to continue your annual night of candy gathering.

One of your friends stops next to a trash can sitting out on the curb. He pulls out the caramel and tosses it into the black depths, never again to be seen by human eyes - unless someone happened to be living in the city dump. 

“We should throw these away. If that old hag really made them herself, there’s no telling what she might have put inside,” he says to the group. One by one, your friends mumble in agreement and pull out their own caramels, each piece sharing the fate of the first. Soon enough, everyone is down one candy and ready to move on.

Well, everyone but you.

Story below the cut, or here if you prefer to read on a Google doc. If you made it this far I am kissing you full on the lips platonically. Or is it platonic? It's queer, that's for sure. Comments/questions/thoughts always appreciated!

You hesitate, staring at the small square. Why would an old lady want to do something like poison candy? She had seemed nice enough. Besides, she was the only person so far who had seemed excited to be handing out free candy. While that was suspicious, to you, it seemed more kindly than anything. You tuck the caramel back into your bag. Your friends stare at you in surprise. 

The lead boy shrugs and turns around, tossing a remark over his shoulder. “It’s your funeral!” 

You shrug in turn and reply. “Whatever. Let’s go get more candy!”

The night moves on, and you load up on more and more candy until lifting your pillowcase becomes a full-body workout. A couple hours later, you’re shouting a farewell to your friends as they make the trek home. You nearly fall inside your bedroom door, exhausted. You dump your candy bag on the floor and fall over onto your bed, where one of the two pillows is missing it’s cover. You start to drift into sleep, but before you can enter the realms of dreams, you realize with a start: you hadn’t eaten a single piece of candy! Despite being around sweets for hours, you hadn’t eaten even a single branded chocolate; saving your Halloween candy was essential. One piece couldn’t hurt, though. You decide on something small - not too big, but not tiny, either. Something like…

...the caramel. You dig around in your pillowcase and pull it out. Now that you were in the light of your room, you could see colorful swirling patterns breaking up the normal monotone tan of caramel. What had the lady said? It was exotic? Whatever it was, it was like no other caramel you had ever seen, and it looked delicious. 

Unrolling the clear wrapper, you pop it into your mouth, excited. Some inevitably sticks to your fingers. The soft caramel melts in your mouth, spreading across your tongue, and down your throat. It leaves you with a warm feeling, almost like soft, warm butter being spread on your insides.

The caramel in your mouth thickens just a bit, sticking to your teeth. You try to work it around in your mouth, but it grows even thicker, locking your jaw in place. The warm feeling grows hot, and you hold a hand to your stomach as you start to feel nauseous. 

As you move your hand, you notice that your fingers refuse to bend. You look down in surprise. The caramel on your fingers had spread, coating your whole hand and locking it in place. You start to panic as the candy creeps across your body, spreading outwards from your hand and your stomach - some had gotten lodged on your shirt, too. Your clothes are pressed against you so tightly, they almost seem to become part of you. You hunch over as you are coated in sticky caramel. For a few seconds, your whole body is locked in place. You feel a pressure against your face, like the caramel was pushing into it. Or maybe your nose was pushing out of the caramel? Your arms feel are pulled around your stomach, and they almost seem to squish outwards, wrapping around yourself.

Soon - at least, you think it was soon; caramel had coated your perception of time, as well, leaving it slow-moving and awkward - soon, the caramel begins to loosen and the hot feeling begins to subside. You stomp, trying to knock the caramel off of your feet. You try to wiggle your toes, but they are… unwieldy. You quickly see why, as the caramel breaks off, revealing two large sets of talons on the ends of two large three-toed feet.

You pry your arms away from your sides as you wobble around on your now-pointy feet, trying to keep your balance. The caramel rips away along with them, hanging down in tattered shreds. It starts to fall away, dropping to the ground and revealing brightly colored wings underneath the hanging tatters instead of pink skin. You flap them frantically and fall over backwards. 

Your caramel shell shatters all across your backside, and a huge tail covered in brilliant hues unfurls behind you, spreading the length of the room. You yell in surprise, but your face is still covered in caramel. The effort tears away the candy covering your nose and mouth. A huge SQUAWK echoes out, and you fling your hands to your face. Feathered wings meet a large beak, and you let out another surprised squawk. 

Dizzy, you stumble upright and totter up to your mirror, your long tail dragging across the wooden floor behind you. What you see isn’t surprising, but it is still shocking: a huge bird, feathers askew, stares back at you from the mirror. You blink; the bird, your new form, blinks back. You realize that because of your many colors, you are most likely now male, regardless of any prior truth to that fact.

Your exhaustion gone, you flap your wings experimentally and rise a few inches into the air, your amazing plumage fragmenting the light into soft, multicolored shafts that decorate your room like a disco ball. While being a bird was disorienting, it certainly was dazzling. You drop back to the floor, talons clicking on wood. You aren’t nearly as clumsy now.

I could get used to this… you think, flexing your claws. An idea forms, and you smile as best you can with your curved beak. You hop onto your windowsill and pop open the latch, wriggling out into the night air. Why not go out for a night flight? After all, it’s not like matters could get much worse, and you could always stop by the old woman’s house to see if she had a cure. 

Maybe later, though. After all, you don’t become a bird every day.