#and I jumpscared myself

[frociaggine]

john is gonna be fine at the end of TLT, but the first words out of his mouth when he meets anyone is "shoot me in the head plz nd thx" and everyone laughs at him bc hes pathetic <3

John hasn't been fine since he was playing with his mama's Barbie at age 8!!

Also, he already got shot to death a few times and lived through it. If anything, he wants to go jumping into the sun or anything equally as fucking dramatic

[kurikorso]

in my moomins era once again. i've been amused lately at the idea of The Joxter carrying baby Snufkin around in his mouth

[cuppajj]

"Are you comfortable?" "Yeah… I guess."

On one night like any other, Pure Vanilla tucked Strawberry Crepe under the covers.

The king had always been odd to them. Always been off, in a way they couldn't explain. His compassion and desire to care for them was unlike anything they'd experienced before, it was strange. They couldn't even play it off with their usual cocky bravado, because he'd always smile and laugh like he could see through it. They'd purse their lips and shrink away, and momentarily pause like a cat as the king pet their head. He'd continue to treat them like they were just a kid: advising gentle caution when they worked with Espresso, smiled as they fed the crows with Black Raisin, invited them to the castle for dinner--and he'd even helped prepare them for bed on numerous occasions, growing more frequent as time passed. Crepe didn't need his help, but over time, their insistence faded away. The ancient's soft smile and softer touch were alright, they supposed, and his tender voice could lull them to sleep faster than counting formulas ever could. Dare they admit that, though.

Pure Vanilla had brought a book with him, a different one from the library every time. All books meant for children, but Crepe had quit protesting for encyclopedias long ago, when Vanilla implored they let their mind relax with something easy. Crepe looked over the cover as Vanilla flipped the book open: 'Counting Cream Sheep and Other Dreamy Tales.'

"You always find one about sheep," Crepe remarked, muffled by the blanket over their mouth. Pure Vanilla's laugh was like tinkling bells. "As you giggle when I pretend to bleat, bluebird! It warms my heart." Crepe once always tried to vehemently deny their moments of childishness, but not anymore; not with Pure Vanilla keeping their nerves at ease. At most now, they simply looked away with warmth in their cheeks. "Did you need to bring that up?" "Why wouldn't I? It makes my night every time." "…Whatever. Can you just get reading? Please?" Pure Vanilla chuckled, turning the book to the first page. Once Crepe knew the king was looking away, their expression softened. As Pure Vanilla began to read, the child turned their head to listen; and with every word gently read, they snuggled into their bed further and further.

The narration carried them into the late hours of the night. The moonlight spilled through the window behind them, basking him and the pages of the book in an angelic glow. Crepe's eyes were growing heavier by the minute, tempted to give into the sleep but trying to stay open to see Vanilla, too. They wanted to see him, try and read his face, his voice, something… anything. Crepe had always wanted to seek, understand, deduce something about Pure Vanilla that would put an answer to all of… this. The book reading, the consideration, the encouraging of behavior alien to them and his paternal instinct to care this much about it. Analyzing his flavor content couldn't even put an answer to it, and they wouldn't dare answer why they were staring at him if he caught them doing so. It had been hard for no reason--Raisin and Espresso's kindness were easy for them to explain away. But Pure Vanilla… The king was unaware of the thoughts circulating through their mind, occupied by reading to see them clutch the covers. He didn't see them open their mouth, then close it, then open it again, the words struggling to leave… He paused at the end of the page and pressed his fingers to its tip.

"Pure Vanilla?" The meek voice paused him before he turned the page. "Yes?" He craned his head to smile down at them. Crepe met his gaze, licking their dry lips. It was quiet for a minute. "…Why do you do this?" the child finally murmured. The ancient blinked. "Read to you?" "No--everything. Everything you're doing for me. It makes no sense." After trying for so long to come up with an answer themselves, the wary relief Crepe felt simply asking him caused them to let everything out. "All this… extraneous stuff you do, you bring me along, you do this, do that, you do things I don't need, I…" Their words trailed off when they noticed Pure Vanilla's smile had wavered. The king stared at them, book now in their lap--but before Crepe worried if they had said something wrong, his lips curved upward once more; he understood. "…Ah." He took a breath and lowered the book. "In truth… I believe I owe it to you."

The two kept their gazes as the words processed in Crepe's head. The answer had led to more questions, it seemed, the way the child's eyelids fluttered and brows furrowed, trying to make sense of it. Since when did Pure Vanilla owe them anything? When had they made a bargain? They had never done something like that, they- They lost track of their thoughts when they felt Vanilla's hand skim through their hair. His eyes were lidded with melancholy now, despite his persistent soft grin. "Do you wish for the full answer?" "Please." "...My curious little bird." With affection in his touch, he continued to pet them. A silent moment passed before he spoke; it was as if he had been processing Crepe's tangibility with each caress.

"…I do not forget how--chronologically speaking--old you truly are," Pure Vanilla explained, his voice a low, reflective whisper. His gaze trailed to what lied just beyond Crepe's bed: the workshop, dimly lit by moonlight, with its library of dormant wafflebots. He could vividly remember when they roamed the ancient streets, fulfilling their duties to the satisfaction of his citizens.

"When I learned what happened to you, I felt a twinge I couldn't fathom," he explained. "To be in cryo, hibernating as time claimed the kingdom around you, your last memories a war-torn sky… I couldn't imagine the fear and loneliness you felt when you awoke, with no one there to hear you. You never deserved that trauma, ever." Crepe was quiet. They were memories they had hidden away to focus on progress; they didn't know until now that the king of the Vanilla Kingdom had held onto them instead. "Despite everything, you're still a mere child. I don't know how much the Dark Flour war truly took from you, but I know that within my power, I can be there for you now. We can be there for you, all of us. We wish to see you happy, bluebird, because it's the least you deserve." His tender hand slid down to cup their cheek. In his glimmering eyes was a mix of sadness, desperation, compassion, hope, pain...

"…But... I find myself wishing," he confessed, "that I was there to protect you."

Silence hung over the two once more as they never looked away from each other. Crepe, inarticulate, could only process Pure Vanilla's warm hand lightly brushing their cheek. The words were slow to register. "Oh," was all they mustered. The king chuckled lightly, giving their cheek a pat. "I'm sorry, that was a lot… I'm simply happy you're here with us, little one." When he pulled his hand away from their face, Crepe stifled their request to rest it there again. The warmth of his touch slowly faded into the cool bedroom air. "…Thank… you, I guess," they whispered instead, shrinking into their covers. "I like it here. I always did, but… you're okay too." "That's all I could ever ask."

He raised the book once more, finally turning their bedtime story to the next page. After wiping his eye, he asked, "now, would you like to continue counting cream sheep?" Crepe hummed, "mm, I wanna hear your baa."

Pure Vanilla's narration continued thereafter, the gentle lullaby of his voice drifting back through the little one's ears. Crepe did their best to mull over his confession, soak everything in and contextualize it with everything he'd done for them; but with each turn of the page, their eyes grew heavier and heavier, their thoughts slurring into a drowsy haze… Pure Vanilla heard the slow breaths of his bluebird, bundled snug and fast asleep. He chuckled to himself, closing the book. Sliding off the bed as quietly as he could, he tucked the book under his arm and reached over to pet their head one more time.

"Thank you." Picking up his sleepy orchid staff, Pure Vanilla quietly left, leaving behind nothing but the scent of orchids and a warmth in Crepe's heart.

They didn't know it at the time, but they were happy they were here with him too.

[demonic0angel]

Sentry (click for clarity)

Jason attracts a lot of strange beings. It’s a good thing that they want to protect him… even if he has no idea about it.

[schnitzelo]

what's with them.....🤨

[sergle]

I just spent a good 3 or 4 minutes laughing bc I saw what appeared to be a Chadifying facetune of John Mulaney, but it turns out he just got a BUNCH OF WORK DONE on himself while I wasn't looking.

[violent138]

Not that he needs to be high to do it, but Bruce Wayne totally gets high, lies on the floor and carries on a full conversation with the bats living in his Cave.

[merymeou]

I have LITERALLY never seen these men before in my life

[kelpermoosee]

My hand is gonna fall off. bye. 😭

[shittysekai]

mizu5

[somegurl8]

“People are writing this” “People are writing that” Actually let’s talk about what people AREN’T writing because we’re like 6 episodes into Judgement and I haven’t found a single fic for it on AO3. It’s been around since mid October and not a single fic. Why is there no love for Judgement

[burythebonesincoldwater]

I'm never getting over how Armand was looking at Louis here

[dailyloweffortpace]

Day 133: kingdom

[futuristichedge]

How I look when you send me out of your garden. If you even care

[flicklikesstuff]

“Care to spare a FRIENDLY chat between pals?~”

[sonknuxadow]

its october you know its time for werehogposting. & knuckles