#and played out absurd scenarios with my dolls

[christinaur]

I made mud cakes in empty gardening pots

“You never pretended to be a bride when you were a little girl?” No???? Like literally never?

[crimmson]

dude I had a super fucked up dream but it was kinda cool and I desperately wish I could remember some of the context to make it make more sense

tldr weird transferred consciousness repeatedly by force and somewhat grisly deaths

I (not really me, but I was playing someone else) and 4 friends (completely fictional people) were at some weird offbeat hotel bar for some reason I can't recall, but someone swore up and down that they saw something weird out of the corner of their eye, and we started wandering a little into the hallways where things got weird. geometry didn't seem quite right, things were getting a bit mazelike, etc.

we hung around a bit to figure out some stuff and decided to leave ASAP, and then things went full-on weird. There was some slenderman type shit, and something was fucking with my depth perception, and there was this tentacle eye stalk thing that looked like it was coming at me while also being 2-dimensional, and it always seemed slightly out of focus until I managed to grab onto the eyeball part

at some point there are just... limbs. severed limbs. and they were not fresh. I remember grabbing the knobby part of an arm bone, not realizing what I was holding, until I swung it at something that was coming at me and I realized I was swinging a half-decayed arm as a melee weapon. I did pause for a minute to laugh at the absurdity of slapping something with someone else's arm. then I went back to screaming for my life.

here's where shit gets wildly out of order because I CANNOT remember what happened in some parts, or what happened in what order:

we run into some woman who I recognize as being someone sort of famous for reasons I don't totally know; either she was some famous scientist or her dad was, for doing some weirdass research

our whole party suddenly winds up in different scenarios, and we all look like different people but we somehow know who each other is. also there may be an additional person we didn't have with us before but I can't be sure about that.

one of those scenarios was some winter festival concert thing, and everything was nice and fine until some fireworks display went horribly wrong and then everything was on fire and people were getting killed left and right by shrapnel and explosions and panic.

i'd die and suddenly we'd just be dropped into another scenario mid-way like it was already in progress

another one of those scenarios was something like a mall or big indoor shopping center, with a lot of glass windows. actually kinda pretty. then a disgruntled guy showed up with a fully automatic gun and started shooting up stuff. I actually managed to avoid a lot of it for a bit and hide behind something, but eventually I got slammed with like so many bullets.

at some point we were back in the hotel environment, and I remember coming across a half-torn down wall or something, and there were a bunch of these mechanical-organic pods with like, half-grown people in them. the pods were a little opaque and I couldn't clearly see the people, but they still looked kinda translucent and like their features hadn't all grown yet. kinda smooth like salamanders. there was something about them that seemed like I'd seen them before, but there wasn't really time to stop and think about it.

there were some weird jelly hand- and eye-shaped things spilled out on the floor in a pile. something offputting about seeing them. like I'd seen them before but couldn't recall when or why, but knew I didn't like it.

at some point, something seemed to falter and I kinda choked and could look around, and realized that the scientist lady was there, and this mystery other person in our group was there, and we were trapped. and this scientist lady had basically forced us to be friends/playmates/dolls? for this other person. I got the impression they were like, her kid, or her sibling, who was handicapped or something in some way and this was the scientist lady's Evil Scientist Way of making sure they had friends. why that always seemed to involve Horrible Violence and Death is a mystery to me. and it's not clear to me if they were actually IN the group with us, or if they were just watching events like some fucked up television show.

the pod people were basically puppets, they were the bodies we were having our consciousness dumped into over and over. somehow, keeping us complacent and linked to these things involved being forcefed those weird jelly hand/eye things.

there was some sense of like, seeing ourselves in the pod people literally, like I think there was some out-of-body shot of us being in the pods, still recognizable but alongside pods of the puppet people. and there was a question of like, damn, how many people has she done this to? because we definitely weren't the only pods. but this also might have been a metaphorical seeing-ourselves-in-the-pod-people and realizing that we WERE them because we were puppeting them. I'm more inclined to believe that one, just because that was the feeling i got hit with when the realization kicked in. If I had to guess the pods were just for sustaining whatever life was in them for as long as possible. whether they were kidnapped victims, or home-grown salamander people.

it was weird, and wild, and gruesome, but the "OH FUCK, THAT'S WHAT'S HAPPENING??" feeling that hit me when I broke through the haze for a second was *chefs kiss* because I think for a bit there I thought these were just a bunch of unconnected, unrelated dreams. until I think I started to pick up on little patterns and similarities.

also left with the feeling that i'm not 100% sure we didn't actually die originally, and she just scooped up our bodies and remaining consciousness to keep us in limbo.

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

My MC Headcanons (Villagers)

General Villager Headcanons

• All villagers love emeralds. Everyone knows this. It’s the most sought after currency for them. You’ll be hard pressed to find any villager (besides maybe the blacksmith at some point if you build up a good trading relationship) who will even glance twice at any diamonds you offer. It’s emeralds or bust babey. 

• But what people don’t usually know is where the villagers’ love for the green gems came from. It’s because they resemble the green all villagers’ eyes are. Though not every villager has that perfect emerald green eye shade, some have a more yellow-green, others have a more blue-green, and some a brown-green. Yet each one has green eyes. And they saw that similarity and thought it was beautiful. So beautiful that they seek out the green gems via trade.

•Though that’s not to say that villagers with eyes that are other shades of green besides emerald are seen as less attractive, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Emerald green eyes are considered ‘classically beautiful’ but other green variants are seen as rare and gorgeous. Jade, chartreuse, seafoam, etc are all admired for their loveliness. 

• Though villagers don’t put much stock into aesthetic beauty when they’re picking a partner. That would be a silly way to choose. Instead they take a spouse that they work well with. One that treats them well and that has a personality that meshes well with their own. That is how they’re taught to choose. And unions formed from those criteria last the longest.

• Villagers are huge gossips. Like the makeup community on youtube they absolutely thrive off some juicy tea. Which can be a blessing as well as a curse depending on how well you treat villagers. If you’re kind, respectful of them and their village, or especially if you offer assistance during a raid then after a day or so every villager will know you’re a goodun and they will give you much better trades. 

• But.... that also means if you’re a jerk and cause trouble in the village, or harm any villagers, or destroy their iron golem guardians then literally every villager in a 100 block radius will know all about you by the next evening and you will be offered the crappiest trades possible. :/ So the phrase ‘you catch more flies with honey than vinegar’ is entirely true in this scenario.

• All villagers have the ability to get pregnant. Which one ends up carrying is a matter entirely up to the parents. Some decide that the physically stronger parent carries the child while some couples merely carry in turns since they end up having more than one child. Assigning who should be pregnant based off of sex is absurd to them. It just makes no sense. It would be like determining who should be pregnant based off who was closer to a chicken last. Utter nonsense.

• And gender is totally unrelated to sex/childbirth for villagers. To them gender is something you choose for yourself, like your favorite color or food. Though the gender neutral ‘they/them’ is the default when a child villager is born, the child is free to change to ‘he/him’, ‘she/her’, or any combo of the three like ‘he/they’ or ‘she/he/they’ if that is what they want. Again, it’s all personal preference. 

• And gender doesn’t restrict villagers either. Any villager can wear a dress, wear pants, wear makeup, get dirty, be clean, etc regardless of their gender. Villagers also do not gender items/animals. That’s ridiculous. Any villager can keep a cat as a pet, or tame a wolf, or play with dolls or blocks. To suggest otherwise would get you looked at like you were a few bundles of wheat short of a hay bale.

[angelic-serenade]

Alastor + disaster cook! S/O

headcanons

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

you could not cook to save your life

any attempt at cooking would result in certain failure in the best case scenario and 5.4 magnitude earthquake damage in the worst

sure, you could make edible pasta and if you really put your best efforts into it, acceptable omelette too

but anything past that level of complexity was simply out of your league, a lost cause to put it mildly

don't you even think about making a cake, that shit's dangerous

as they say: as above so below

when you landed in Hell and found yourself joining the Happy Hotel soon after, you came to find out your culinary skills had not magically improved

which is quite ironic since Charlie had made you head chef of the hotel

the string of curses which had left your lips upon hearing the news had been legendary, even for Hell

you adored the demon princess with your whole heart (or whatever was left of it anyway), bUT REALLY CHARLIE? YOU DO NOT GIVE A GUN TO A CHILD AND EXPECT CASUALTIES NOT TO HAPPEN

at this point you were certain she was subconsciously auto-sabotaging

either way, you didn't have the heart to tell her no, so you decided to put your heart and soul into trying to learn how to properly cook, which didn't turn out to be the ideal choice of words since you were in Hell and your soul was probably rotten to the core

at least, nobody could say you hadn't tried your damn best

and hey! some days your cooking hadn't even been completely sickening

you decided to stick to easy, “safe” dishes though, you know, just to be sure

so pasta and eggs were definitely a thing

a constant and repetitive thing to be precise

you were trying your best, okay? nobody in your place with your limited set of skills would have taken the job, but you did and you deserved recognition for that feat alone

or a fucking donkey hat for your skyrocketing dumbness levels

things were not so bad at first

both Charlie and Vaggie were very supportive, each one of them in their own way - even though you had totally seen Charlie trying to swallow pure unadulterated fear that one time you had announced you wanted to try to cook something more elaborate

Angel Dust on the other hand... hadn't been as considerate as to lie to your face about what he thought of your cooking

"fuck me doll, this shit's disgusting"

*insert the I don't have friends they disappoint me vine here*

Vaggie had proceeded to give Angel quite the earful while Charlie tried her best to cheer you up

you went full hermit mode on them for two days after that

you were proud of yourself, handling criticism so well

anyway, the cycle kept repeating, with the only difference that most days Angel would grab something to eat outside of the hotel and join you during meals only to blankly stare at the plates and silvery

Charlie had tried to shield you from the truth, but you weren't that stupid

you respected Angel's choice, really, you did, and you had decided to be the bigger person among the two

that's why you began to put a lil bit of laxative into his portions whenever he decided to grace your efforts and actually eat your "disgusting cooking"

y’know just to spicy things up a little

at least now he had a valid reason to complain

with the whole fiasco on live TV and the sudden and suspicious appearence of the one and only Radio Demon at your doorstep, however, things started going haywire

Alastor's presence was eeirly demanding and unsettlingly charmimg at the same time

so it was only natural for you to gravitate the fuck away from him whenever you could

you always acted politely, greeting him whenever you bumped into him through the corridors of the hotel, but you only went as far as to appear courteous because you didn't want for him to go Hannibal Lecter on you. thanks, no thanks

“and what can you do my feminine fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!”

you had snorted a bit at that which immediately shifted the strawberry pimp's attention to yourself

“and what about you, pretty dame? I take it you're in charge of the kitchens around here?”

dressed in your chef attire, you were going to meekly answer him, but before you could, roaring laughter erupted in the room. it belonged to the one and only slutty spider you found oh so irritating

in the fraction of seconds, Alastor snapped his neck at an unnatural angle to stare at the spider with a strained smile on his face

needless to say, the cursed image would forever haunt your traumatized psyche

“hasn't your mother taught you it is rude to interrupt a conversation which you have no part in? that just won't do!”

static filled the air and you feared you were going to implode if the heavy pressure didn't lift off soon enough, so you decided to take action

“ugh... yes, I'm the head chef! but, well, I... could actually use some practice and proper training?”

you hated how uncertain you sounded, but Angel's comments and your own dissatisfaction with your culinary products made you quite self-conscious about your skills

“don't fret your pretty little head about it, my dear! I, for one, am a culinary connaisseur and wonderful chef, if I do say so myself. I'll be ecstatic to guide you through your training!”

how you'd be able to handle his booming voice during hours and hours of practice was your first and main concern, but you had never been one to refuse the chance to finally prove the people who had criticized you wrong *cough cough* Angel Dust

since that day, Alastor began to personally give you cooking lessons

he was exuberant and pretty sly when it came to veiled jabs about your dreadful cooking, but he really took his time to help you out

which you had been both grateful and suspicious about

“now, we can't have our future patrons starving to death, can we?”

he was strangely patient and an overall good teacher too (emphasis on overall)

he guided you step by step through each dish, simultaneously showing off his own flawless culinary skills

you hated that you daily found yourself boosting his already GIGANTIC ego, but you couldn't help it. you could only dream about reaching that level of artistry in cooking

he always came up with creative recipes to test your limits and cooked for you in order to make you more familiar with different tastes. his mother’s were your favorites, jambalaya being his one true specialty 

he had blindfolded you once and proceeded to present you with various samples of spices, oilments and all kinds of food so that you could acquaint yourself with the smells and flavors of the ingredients and figure out yourself which ones would best suit a certain dish

saying you were hesitant at first was an understatement, because you know? being completely at the mercy of a sadistic serial killer who had terrorized the seven circles of hell? not even being able to see him? not on your bucket list

he had tried to ease your nervousness with the whole “if I wanted to hurt anyone here, I would have done so already” thing, but it was getting kind of old pretty fast

“if I had been one to play with fire, I'd have joined a circus”

he found your sense of humor as endearing your sheer presence

(when he rolled up his sleeves to cook, you felt like you could catch fire any minute, you were a slut for strong skinny arms) 

yes, Alastor had always loved to show off his own impeccable skills but he unexpectedly found himself enjoying the moments spent in your company too

he relished in seeing you fail again and again, but he also admired the way you always managed to bring yourself back up to your feet each time

he had yet to fully understand if it was foolishness or stubbornness to guide your steps

either way, you turned out to be his favorite form of entertainment in the hotel!

no matter how many slights would he send your way, you'd always manage to find an appropriate remark that made his permanent smile stretch a little more in sheer amusement

“oh dear, this beef is so undercooked one could still hear the poor beast’s lament”

“the only noise I hear is the obnoxious ramblings of an arrogant boomer”

he wasn't technically a boomer but it was always so satisfying to irk him with terms he had no knowledge of

during your cooking lessons, when the only thing left to do with a dish was wait and pray for the best, you'd come to talk about everything and anything

he'd talk to you about his precious New Orleans as he remembered it and you'd fill him in on recent historical/social developments of your time

he always looked so taken when you shared with him that modern knowledge and it made you feel useful for a change

it was, dare you say it, almost adorable how he'd ask you countless questions about your home town, the catastrophes of the last century and had there been any other war since his death?

the topic switches almost made you dizzy though

once or twice, when the timing allowed, he'd even indulge in a musical show to pass time

on the days your mood soured because of a particularly complicated recipe or bad result, he'd drag you along and dance until you were so distracted by the absurdness of the circumstances that you forgot about your previous sadness

with time, his musical shows became more frequent as he realized you'd always offer him a genuine smile after his flashy performances

it was out of personal indulgence, not because he liked the way his music always seemed to cheer you up

he'd not been vocal about the way he tried to comfort you, but you were grateful nonetheless

the first time you managed to succesfully complete one of his complicated recipes, you had almost cried

“now, now deary, under my watchful eye, it was only a matter of time until you'd finally blossom into a fine cook!”

“Alastor can I... can I hug you?”

and how could he say no to such an adorable expression? he found himself stunned into silence, not being able to tell you yes either, therefore you slowly came closer as if trying not to scare a wild animal away

when Alastor passively stood before you, not moving away, you wrapped your arms around him

he really was such a dorky noodle

he didn't relax into the hug, but he kept still as you relished in the moment and let the pressure you had hoarded for months now loose

Alastor proceeded to show off your dish during dinner and even Angel Dust could do nothing but shut up and dig in

The all powerful Radio Demon was simply so proud of your progress - not that he doubted you'd prevail in the end, thanks to his expertise and guidance

from that moment onward things only got better and even if you didn't necessarily need Alastor's help anymore, neither of you ever mentioned going your separate ways

you were both secretly glad for the silent agreement

friendly banter and dad jokes were a daily occurrence and with your new-found confidence in the field, you'd always bite back showing off new delicious dishes instead than words

you still had trouble every now and then, but Alastor was always there to help you out

not that you'd ever hear the end of it if you actually asked him for help

“what was that, my darling? is the mightiest chef in Hell having trouble in Paradise?”

you had noticed however that he'd started sneaking glances your way more than usual lately and he also started following you around wherever you went in the hotel. he became your shadow both inside and outside of the kitchen

the attention soon became unnerving, even more so when you'd go in the kitchen only find a different flower on the counter each morning

you came to realize that Alastor's advances were rather old fashioned, but you would amuse the dork and yourself for a while before taking charge

gifts became an ordinary occurrence as well as praise and you preferred not to think about what praise could do to you when it came from Alastor

he enjoyed your reactions to his flattering words a little too much, he had to admit

you had had enough of his childish antics one day and you decided to finally put your plan into action

“Al, can you come here for one sec?”

he wasn't particularly fond of the nickname, but you just loved to get under his skin as much as he did when it came to you

“what can I do for you, my darling chef?”

“here, I have a gift for you”

he looked uncharacteristically unsure of what to do but slightly amused as well. in the end curiosity took the best of him and he finally decided to open the box you had handed to him rather unceremoniously

“what is this dear?”

the apron you had chosen was a perfect fit for your long boi

“read it, please”

“kiss the cook? well, if you ask me so nicely, I just might have to”

he then proceeded to peck your cheek and you swore you could have fainted right there and then by the sheer sweetness of the gesture

it hadn't exactly been what you had planned, but you weren't going to complain

your relationship was bound to be full of surprises apparently

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: In the Garden of Mindy

So today’s episode is neither a regular Pinky and the Brain skit nor a mere cameo. Today’s episode is…different, as the opening that spoofs the 1980s CBS Special Presentations pops up.

Perhaps the Warner Siblings can shed some light on this?

“Hi. We’re the Warner Brothers.”

“…And the Warner Sister.”

Look at these smug little gremlin children. You just know something is wrong when they make faces like that.

“And we’d like to invite you and all the members of your household…”

“…to gather around the TV set and join us now…”

“…for a very special episode of Animaniacs.”

“And what’s so special about it?”

“I’m not wearing any pants!”

…Wakko, you’re never wearing any pants.

Okay, okay, so we have the usual opening song and then the real explanation comes along.

“Welcome to the Animaniacs test kitchen!”

Oh no…

“We’re cookin’ up something really different for today’s show. All we need are our ingredients!”

Oh, kids, no!

“A dash of Pinky and the Brain!~”

WARNERS, PLEASE!!!

Man, the mice look so worn out. Did they…try to escape the Warner Siblings to avoid this whole thing? Like, that’s the only reason I can think of for why they look so tired as opposed to surprised or nonchalant like the other characters: They’re exhausted from attempting to run away. And for Pinky to be tired out is very, very telling.

“A cup of Slappy Squirrel!~”

Slappy is resigned to her fate.

“A tablespoon of Goodfeathers~”

I’m sorry about the smear face I managed to capture on you, Yakko.

I love how Bobby’s smirking a little, Squit is grinning like usual, and Pesto is looking at both of them like “If this is in any way you guys’ fault, I swear to the Godpigeon you’re all in for a beaking.”

“Add Rita, Runt, then swirl!~”

Meanwhile, Rita and Runt are just baffled.

“We add a pinch of Hippos~”

Why do you only have one of them?

…Wait, this is a fat joke, isn’t it? Goddammit.

“Buttons and Mindy, too~”

“Now top it off with Skippy Squirrel~”

Buttons and Flavio right now:

“What’s that make?

Animaniacs Stew!~”

Well, okay. We can at least call everything that results from this by a catchy name: The Stew AU.

“What’d we come up with?”

“Just watch…”

Oooh, children. You’ve committed a culinary evil this day.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain~”

So we’re mixing up the Animaniacs cast of characters and shows today.

[sighs]

Okay, so I guess it’s time to explain the basic premise of the Buttons and Mindy shorts and why they’re not fondly remembered, huh?

Well, the whole thing with Buttons and Mindy is a variation on the Baby’s Day Out type of scenario. Buttons the family dog is put in charge of guarding and babysitting Mindy, a friendly and curious toddler, by the mother of the family. The mother leaves to go…somewhere, and Mindy inevitably wanders off to chase after a bug or something new and interesting that she sees. Buttons goes after her because he loves Mindy very much and wants to keep her safe and be a Good Dog, and Mindy naively and unknowingly wanders into increasingly dangerous and life-threatening situations that Buttons must save her from, all the while getting beaten and bruised by the situations that were threatening Mindy.

The shorts usually end with Mindy and Buttons somehow ending up back home with Buttons ragged from the abuse he’s endured and Mindy perfectly fine except for maybe not being tied to her tether or in her playpen or whatever. The mother comes home and sees that Mindy is not quite where she was when she left her, or the surrounding area is a mess or something equally not that terrible, and berates Buttons for not taking better care of Mindy and calling him a Bad Dog.

And that’s where it ends.

If you’re not busting a gut at that description, congratulations, you are just like 90% of the Animaniacs audience.

The reason these shorts just don’t work for a lot of viewers, myself included, is that this kind of scenario is only funny once or maybe twice. After that, you just end up feeling bad for Buttons and don’t want to see a cartoon dog go through a conga line of pain that he doesn’t deserve. Not to mention that the whole premise can be boiled down to “Severe Parental Anxiety: The Show”, and not a lot of people like feeling that way for ten minutes or so per cartoon episode.

The reason the scenario works for a comedy movie like the aforementioned Baby’s Day Out is because the people going after the baby in that movie are kidnappers and obviously terrible people who only look out for the child’s safety so they can hold the kid for ransom, thus the pain they go through while the child remains okay is funny. Trying to do the same thing with an innocent family dog that just wants to keep a toddler safe? Not very funny at all. It’s just sad.

“Mindy and the Brain!

One’s a small child,

And the other’s…the Brain!~”

So now we have a Buttons and Mindy episode with Brain filling in for Buttons. Already this is…not great, but I suppose it’s the only suitable fit for Brain because he’d have it so, so much worse if he was put in the cast of the other skits.

I like the Goodfeathers skits, but I feel like Bobby and Pesto wouldn’t put up with his world domination shtick and end up berating him and/or beating him up. And Squit? Squit’s a do-gooder but he definitely doesn’t have Pinky’s level of passive subordination. Brain would be completely out of his league.

This isn’t to say that I wouldn’t want to see Brain interacting with the Goodfeathers, because holy shit yes PLEASE I would love the chaos that would ensue. I just think Brain wouldn’t last on his own with them.

Brain would, again, be completely out of his element in a Slappy Squirrel cartoon. Slappy’s skits hinge on her being a senior Looney Toon-type who knows just how to handle absurd scenarios and villains. Brain gets lost and confused incredibly quickly when unexpected situations pop up. He’s not a quick thinker in general. He’d be toast.

Being inserted into a Rita and Runt skit… Well, Rita wouldn’t be a good partner for obvious reasons that will become even more apparent later. And Runt is kind and a bit dimwitted but he’s no Pinky. Runt isn’t the type to be interested in helping to take over the world. He just doesn’t have the skills to do…almost anything that Pinky can, and he doesn’t have the drive to do it. Runt just wants a home and that’s it.

As for the Hip Hippos, there’s a skit of theirs down the line where Brain is involved and it honestly turns out about as well as it does for Brain in this episode.

So, let’s see how Brain fares in a world without Pinky.

“He uses his lobe

To overthrow the globe!~”

Also, we’re again treated to TMS doing the animation, which certainly elevates this skit quite a bit.

“She’s whimsy,”

I love how Brain goes from shock and surprise to absolute petulant grumpiness after seeing that Mindy put him in a jar.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

If only this was the extent of your humiliation today, Brain. If only.

[Various raspberry and baby babbling noises]

“Hi, Lady!”

“It’s ‘Mom’.”

This is honestly the only joke I ever liked in the Buttons and Mindy shorts. Apparently it was based on something a real child of a friend of an Animaniacs creator would say to their mom.

“Now listen, honey, mommy has to go to a better parenting conference. You stay right here and play.”

A “better parenting conference”, huh? Lady, you need it more than you know. For many reasons.

“Okay Lady, I love you, buh-bye!~”

Is anyone else getting a horrid sense of foreboding and dread from Mindy’s doll looking like a simplified Elmyra?

“Now, Brain, you keep an eye on Mindy while I’m gone.”

Nothing like leaving a mouse in a cage in charge of a toddler, huh?

Gosh, brain’s so adorably chubby in this episode. Look at him. Look at that grumpy face and that pudgy belly.

“I always get an attitude from him…”

Yeah, he’s… Yeah. That’s Brain, all right.

“At last, that meddler is gone! I’m free to begin my plan to…conquer the world!”

I love that back shot of Brain so much. It’s perfect. That’s the perfect Brain proportions and I can only dream of being able to draw cartoons that well.

“First, I’ll use telepathy to open the cage.”

C-come again? “Telepathy”?

Brain, honey… You’re looking for the word “telekinesis”. You should know this.

Also I guess Pinky’s not the only one with telekinesis capabilities.

The fact that he cocks his head to the side when he turns the trowel with his mind is a nice little detail.

“Now to get Mindy…”

That strut, though. He’s a mouse on a mission.

“Come, Mindy, it’s time for us to conquer the world!”

...Okay, I’ll say it: Mindy is very cute in this shot.

Meanwhile Brain...looks like a gremlin.

“Why?”

“By right of superior intelligence, I am best suited to guide the destiny of this planet.”

Careful, Brain. You’re getting dangerously close to--

“Why?”

“My empirical powers give me the mandate.”

BRAIN, this is starting to sound like eugenics...!

“Why?”

“Because it’s something I want to do!”

Oh lord, without Pinky to reel him in and remind him of all the real reasons he wants to conquer the world, the Brain of this universe has devolved into a mouse driven purely by ego and spite.

His little tantrum is adorable, though.

“Okay, I love you! [MWAH~]”

“I am uncomfortable with that.”

The Brain be like: What is this...”affection” you speak of? This is new and scary to me.

“Now listen closely, Mindy: Using the gardener’s weed killer, manure, and a little zoysia grass,--”

Zoysia grass is an actual thing, by the way. It’s the kind of grass you see mostly on golf courses.

“--I will construct a powerful stink bomb!” 

GAH! No need to punctuate the term by making your eyes bulge, Brain.

“We’ll use the lawn mower engine to construct a rocket and fill it with the gas. When precisely launched, the prevailing winds will spread the gas across the world’s capitals.”

As impressed as I would be with you being able to make a rocket from a lawn mower engine, Brain, it’s kind of overshadowed by you doing that thing again where you make a drawing animate like a video. Another strange power to add to the list, I suppose.

“As the stench drives the government officials out into the streets, we will rush in and seize power!”

Good lord, Brain, calm down. You’re gonna break that pointing stick!

“You understand?”

“Mousey!~”

You’re...not very good with kids, are you, Brain?

“Pretty Brain mousey…!”

“I am mortified.”

I don’t see why, you look positively precious.

“Little mousey big head!”

Mindy, dear, I too wish to squish this cute little megalomaniacal mouse sometimes but you’re doing it way too hard.

“Put me down, Mindy, or I shall have to hurt you.”

“Okay, I love you, buh-bye!”

The Brain: [is a mouse with genius intellect and gadgetry know-how with the drive to take over the world]

Also The Brain: [gets dunked on by a toddler merely dropping him on the ground]

“I sense I’ve completed the first step of my plan: Finding manure.”

That’s one way to look on the bright side, I suppose.

Sweetie, you’ve got something stuck on your head still.

“Pungent aroma, if I do say so.”

“Now to construct the rocket…”

...Why would you take the mask off now? You’re still right over top of the stink bomb! Brain, have the fumes messed with your thinking abilities already?

I do like the animation of him tearing the mask off, though.

“Buggy! Buggy!”

“All right, Mindy: Bring me the mower!”

If you ever need a pose that sums up Brain perfectly, it’s this one right here. This is him distilled down to his purest form. God bless TMS for this.

“Soon the world will be mine!”

Uh, yeah, about that...

“Woooow! Buggy go fast! Wheeeeeee!~”

“Whoooooaaaa! GAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“Beh, peh, EUGH!”

Brain’s plans go to shit really fast without Pinky around. Sometimes quite literally, it seems.

“Buggy go ‘round!”

[Running in the 90s starts playing]

“Ahahaha!”

Don’t worry folks. As always, Mindy is okay. Brain, however...

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Something I missed on my first viewing of this episode: the grass around Brain’s feet as he walks around covered in his stinkbomb juice dies near instantly.

“Wahahahaha! Silly Brain!”

“This is most unexpected.”

Is it, though? Is it really, Brain?

So, uh, something that caught me off-guard while watching this for the first time is what happens next.

Pinky and the Brain is, obviously, a Warner Brothers cartoon with some Looney Toon sensibilities. Despite that, though, while there is the occasional being-flattened-like-a-pancake or being-covered-in-soot-after-an-explosion types of cartoon slapstick and such, it doesn’t really go much beyond that when it comes to cartoonish injuries and such. The worst I’d ever seen it get in this show is at the end of Opportunity Knox when Pinky and Brain are all wrapped up in bandages and some of their fur has been scraped off raw. Even then, that was surprisingly “graphic” for the show.

But this upcoming bit?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! D8

--was my reaction the first time. It’s not bloody and gory, but seeing Brain being sliced into sections by a lawn mower is just...startling, to put it mildly. To my knowledge (and well, it has been decades since I regularly watched the show, so take this with a grain of salt), the Pinky and the Brain Animaniacs sketches and the spinoff never does something this Looney Toons to them.

And what really gets me is that he’s not just cut into sections with his eyeballs popped out, it’s that there’s an obvious hole in the middle of each section??? For some reason??? What that to imply space for his skeleton?!? A creamy center filling?!?

TMS, you could have just animated him in sections like some kind of mousey marshmallow, why did you include the holes?!?

[Press F to Pay Respects]

“Bleh! Brain smell like poo-poo!”

“I must re-think my present career…”

Honestly, Brain? Without Pinky to help you, I’d say it’s a good idea to just try and escape this family first and then maybe try on your own to take over the world. You might have a slightly better chance then.

“What’s that horrible smell?! Is that you, Brain?! Have you been allowing Mindy to feed you old cheese again? Bad mouse! Bad, bad mouse!”

Wait, “again”?

“…I hate being chided.”

You know, it’s interesting how he says that about this human woman chiding him, but in the regular Pinky and the Brain universe Pinky will sometimes chide Brain for doing something dubiously immoral, and while he may hate it there too...he more often than not backs down and admits to his faults when it’s Pinky doing it.

“But she’ll be gone soon, then I can begin my plans for tomorrow: Another plot to take over the world!”

“But first: A bath.”

I mean, yeah. Priorities.

“He’s stinky,

They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

Well, I never thought we’d get a Brain bath scene until the comics but here we are.

I wonder if Pinky would find it equally as appealing to watch as that one...

Okay, that sure was...an episode. Let’s see how the other half of the equation is doing.

“They’re Pinky and the Cat!

Yes, Pinky and the Cat!

Her name is Rita,~”

Oh NO... 

I love the contrast of these two shots. It’s as if Pinky’s self preservation instinct kicks in only long enough for him to be vaguely worried about having a cat in his cage...and his lack of attention span overtakes it and he does whatever the hell this is.

“He’s a lab rat!~”

“A mouse!”

At least he still has it in him to be offended enough to correct the Warners about his actual species.

“They live inside a cage,

Making less than minimum wage.~

Aww...

Oh, Pinky, sweetie... I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen.

“It’s dinky,~”

“They’re Pinky and the Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat!~”

Pinky making faces in the reflection of the water bowl is another bit of animation that’s used in the spin-off’s opening theme. It’s kind of weird to pull something from this particular segment, but whatever.

“What do you want to do tonight, Rita?”

It was so difficult to get a shot of Pinky’s cute little coy stance here, but it was worth it. Look at this cute, naive little mouse. He just wants to be friends, Rita!

“I dunno, eat you for supper?”

[GULP]

[Press F to Pay Respects...Again]

“So far, this is my favourite episode.”

“Narf! Oh, roomy accommodations, Rita!”

Don’t worry, folks, he’s fine! Yup. He’s okay somehow.

Lord, I hope this didn’t awaken a vore fetish in anyone.

“She ate the rat

‘cause Rita is a cat, cat, cat, cat, cat!~”

So yeah, that’s the end of this little experiment by the Warner Siblings. Well, the end of what’s relevant to this blog series, anyway. There’s also a skit with Pesto and Runt trying to find a home, which is honestly the best one out of this whole bunch of AU one-shots.

Then there’s a Katie Ka-Boom and Chicken Boo crossover, which is as underwhelming as you can imagine.

There’s a short where Dot takes the place of Slappy Squirrel, which goes about as well as it can after the theme song repeatedly calls her “Dottie the Squirrel”.

Lastly, Slappy takes the place of Dot in a Warner Siblings skit (with a cameo with Flavio as Skippy) where the Warners barge in on a very thinly veiled parody of Saddam Hussein and, uh... Well, it’s about as awkward to watch as it sounds. Props to Slappy for not really being interested in any part of that skit, though.

Man, after this utterly bizarre set of skits, I think we really need that full episode length Pinky and the Brain episode, don’t we?

Soon, folks. Soon.

See you then!

[oftenderweapons]

Everyday

Pairing: member x reader 

Wordcount: 300-400 words each piece

Genre: fluff, smut, slightest angst

Rating: suggested 18+

Small announcement

Unfortunately, I couldn't complete Jin's Love Talk scenario in time, since his conversation with Angel is a lot more difficult to handle and I still have some research to do (a lot of educational BDSM talk Yay! And I want it to be accurate and as precise as possible).

To earn your forgiveness, I will publish a double update next week, with Jin's part published on Thursday 1 am GMT, and Yoongi on Saturday at 3 am GMT. (Please don't judge my night owl lifestyle)

Here are some mixed drabbles (watch out for the text mentioned in Joon’s Love Talk) 😉 Also this is unedited, I’ll grammar check it in the morning. Each drabble is about 300-400 words.

Here is my Masterlist!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: dirty talking, spankings, oral male and female receiving, cum play (pearl necklace), male masturbation, breast worship, mentions of role play, mentions of sex tapes, mentions of subbing and pain kink, mentions of nipple piercing.

Namjoon

--  the morning after Love talk --

Sunday morning felt like a nightmare. He asked himself why, why for fuck’s sake he had left. 

You had kissed him, rubbed all over him, pressing your ass on him as you watched the film on the sofa, spooning. WHY!

He grabbed his phone. You were probably still asleep. Unless…? He texted you.

How’s your head? Mine is a mess. 

You don’t know how bad it feels to wake up alone. I felt like eating some tiramisu for breakfast and ruin your underwear. Did you touch yourself last night, after I left?

I thought about you, you know. That perfect ass of yours. How much I want to bite it. God, I want to spank you so bad, Vixen. I swear, if I put my hands on you I’m gonna ruin you. You won’t sit for a week. For all that fucking teasing last night. You don’t know how many times I thought about putting my hand under your skirt. Were you even wearing panties, naughty girl? You bent over at dinner and I noticed that there were no lines on that incredible peach of yours… Wanted to push you down against the table, drag your skirt up and just ram into you from behind. But I wanna take my time. Toy around this mind-blowing chemistry with you, until you’re on your knees begging for me to be your daddy and teach you how to do it right for me. At that point I would finger you nice and slow, the way impatient, hungry girls like you can’t handle. I would make you cum so intensely your legs would twitch merely at the thought of me doing it again. And then I would lie down and have you sit on my face. Cute right? I would help you ride my face with my hands cupping your butt, until you’re dripping all over my face. I want you to look down at me like a queen on a motherfucking throne, Vixen. And right after your second orgasm I would make you roll down so I can fuck you missionary, looking at the face you make the first time I slide into you, those pretty doll lips wrapped around the hand I used to make you cum. 

I know you must be so tight, little one. I can’t wait to leave angry, purple lovebites on your sexy hipbones and thighs, baby. 

Tell me you want that too, little vixen. 

After ten minutes of you not answering, he just headed to the shower, in the hope of blowing off some steam. 

When he returned he noticed the notification. 

My head? No complaints 😉😏

Thank you for the orgasm, daddy. Maybe I could help you with yours now?

Yeah. he was hard again anyway…

Seokjin

-- shortly after the Conversation with Jimin -- 

Water fell heavily on his back. You were laying in bed, your cute pjs making you look like a princess from a fairy tale. 

That princess had your cum all over her chest precisely five days ago.

He pressed his forehead to the tiles. No, a part of him said, but his hand was already there, lingering on his shaft. 

She licked it clean. Scooping it up with her fingers. Grinning at you. 

He hit his head against the tiles in the hope it would help him stop. 

You had your mouth on her panties, you coward? She was so lost she would have told you yes. He thought of your taste. He allowed himself that only once, maybe twice a month. Not because he didn’t like that, but rather because he had probably never done it before. Which seems ridiculous, but apparently his exes weren’t interested in cunnilingus? Was it absurd that he wanted to try with you? 

He dragged his hand up and down, angry at himself. 

He should just get in the bed and make you scream until even the florist at the end of the street knew who’s fucking you so good.

He thought about your hands tied up, about you cumming just with him ramming into you. He wanted to give it to you so hard you even forgot you had a body. He wanted your pleasure to be one with his. Just like last time. 

Not like your previous life was unsatisfactory. But he saw the superior look of bliss, how radiant you had looked the morning after. How easily you had fallen asleep in his arms as he caressed your hair. 

“Jinnie, love.” You called from the bedroom. 

He didn’t understand what came next, he was lost in bliss, your voice and his imagination making him fall in the deepest pits of pleasure. 

Yoongi 

-- after date five, art gallery --

Fuuuuck. He fixed his trousers in the elevator headed to his apartment. 

Rushing through his door, he almost tripped on his shoes as he took them off hastily. He had promised himself he wouldn’t. Yet again, here he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows propped on his knees. He took off his turtleneck lightning fast, his naked pale chest emerging from the dark cotton that protected him from the chilly spring air. He didn’t actually have enough patience to get rid of his trousers. He let them bunch up at his ankles.

“Kitten.” He whispered shyly, reaching for his hard on. He was so sensitive his hips thrusted up as he gave himself the first stroke. 

Those tits. Fuck. Pressed against his back as you explained a picture to him, the tip of your nose running against the curve of his ear. 

He had wanted to pin you against the white walls of the gallery, like a work of art, get his head under your cute skirt and nuzzle his face against your mound.

And the ice cream. 

He thought he would cum in his pants, with you licking up your ice cream cone, your kittenish licks deviously appropriate to your nickname. And the ice cream dribbling down your hand in thick droplets a couple times. The way you had sucked it clean. 

Fuck, fuck!

He laid down on his back and kicked off his pants, hand still busy on his cock. Half delirious, he turned to his belly, thrusting his hips up into his hand, one arm propping him up. “Fuck, kitten, so good.” He nuzzled his face against the sheets, lost in his imagination. “Love, please. ____.” And with your name on his lips he let himself crumble and dissolve. Crashing, exhausted on the bed he took only a couple seconds before emitting an exasperated cry. He had stained the sheets like a teenager. 

Three times this week. And it was only Tuesday. 

Hoseok 

-- a couple days after his Conversation with Taehyung --

“Are you sure you want to keep it? We don’t have to, sweetie.” He reassured you. 

“You’ll have to leave soon. I know you get frustrated with phonesex. This could help you.” You combed his hair back and booped his nose. 

He hid his face into your neck. “Tell me you’ll see me in Los Angeles. Promise me you’ll come.”

“I promise, puppet.” You held him tighter. 

“The guys hate me when you’re not around. They say I get duller.” He whined with a sad voice. 

“My poor little puppet.” You fondled him. “And that’s not true Hobi. You’re always lovely.” You started waddling, bringing him from the kitchen to the sofa. Waddling always gets him to laugh. 

Indeed, a few seconds later he giggled as you both plopped down on the cushions. He shifted around until he was perfectly curled against you, his head laying on your chest.

“You sure you’re okay with me keeping it?”

“Guard it like your own life, Hobi. You know the risks.” You reminded him. 

“Yes, of course. It’s in my personal luggage. Safe. Don’t worry, seriously. Taehyung instructed me. And I’m pretty sure he travels with a whole library of this stuff.”

You cringed and laughed. “At least he can help you, eventually.”

“Your copy is in the pendrive in the bedside table.” He murmured. “It’s only three weeks until LA. It’s not awful. We can do this.” He tried to convince himself. 

“Just three weeks. You’ve got enough stuff to last you a month.” You kissed his forehead. 

“I love you.” He said, stretching to reach for your lips. 

“I love you too, puppet.”

Jimin 

-- The morning after your sixth date --

He woke up with an awfully painful erection. Probably because the night before you had teased him endlessly and when he’d come back home he’d been too tired to jerk off. 

Pushing up his hips tentatively, he felt the softness of the cotton on his naked body. Turning around he found his spare pillow between his thighs. 

Yes, he huffed out, thrusting his hips harshly. He moaned. He started with a punishing rhythm straight away, pushing so hard his whole back arched over and over.

His hand grabbed his own thigh, using his knees and free arm for leverage. 

The hand on his leg climbed up to his ass, cupping it, slapping it carefully, gently. He wanted you to do that. Grab his ass as he rammed into you. Manhandle him a little. His hand climbed further up, toying wit his chest. 

Shit. He tweaked his nipple, wetting his fingers with his mouth and bringing them back to his pect. His hips stuttered. 

He thought of your mouth. Of your sinful red lips, Of the way you always seemed to have the situation under control. Of the way you make him always feel desired.

Were you touching yourself at the thought of him?

Were you as eager as he was? Having wet dreams about him?

He was tired of this frustration. He fucked harder in the pillow, one hand around his neck, the other gripping his ass, his short nails diggin in the flesh. 

He could only think that your nails would look prettier. Sink deeper. Hurt more. Make it all sweeter.

Taehyung

— around date three or four —

“That lipstick looks lovely on you, Doll.” He murmured, holding your hand as you strolled down the gallery, a big bucket hat over his eyes. “I think I’ll call you poppy. That’s perfect poppy red. How fitting that opium comes from poppies.” 

You looked at him surprised. “Are you saying I’m a drug?”

“I’ve been high on you for the last four days. Since I saw you at the shop. Do you usually strut around in full pin up attire?“ He asked, intertwining your fingers. 

“No, not usually. I was just on my way to a theme party. I figured I could just get ready at the shop. I wasn’t expecting you to come around.”

“Theme party... Were you supposed to be the naughty housewife who can’t just get enough of her husband and has an affair with the poolboy?“ He asked, getting close to you enough to bite your earlobe. Oh, the teasing. He was reckless with it. 

“Tae.” You reprimanded him. You looked around. The gallery was empty since he knew the owner and he had allowed him to come visit behind closed doors. 

“It’s just us, Doll. No worry.“ His arm wrapped around your waist. “I can be your obedient poolboy.“

“Why be the poolboy when you could be my husband, spanking me because I ruined one of his expensive white shirts?” You looked at him mischievously as he cleared his throat. You both stopped in front of a painting. The still nature had a variety of vases with different flowers. Of course poppies were included. 

“There they are.” He pointed to the flowers. “And here she is.” His arm wrapped you up, dragging you closer to him, his mouth dipping to yours.

You thought his spell would wear off, but time after time, his kisses taste wilder. Would it ever become too much?

Jungkook

— shortly after Where, when and how —

Jungkook was laying on top of you on the sofa, and god, didn’t it feel nice...

Nuzzling his face against your chest, he let his hand climb under your T-shirt, meeting the elastic band of your sports bra and slipping his fingers underneath, tracing the outline of your pierced nipple.

“Again, baby?” You asked him, who had already reached his destination.

“I love it. I’m sorry.” His face felt ten times hotter on your neck, his blush apparent.

He made to remove his hand, but you locked it there.

“It’s sweet, it’s just that it turns me on a little.” It was your turn to blush.

“If you want I can just let it be. Really. I mean... Unless you want me to... help you out with... that.” He questioned, doubtful.

“Are you asking me if I need to be fucked?” You asked, unceremoniously, with a grin on your face.

“I mean. I wouldn’t oppose if you asked me to.” He kissed your neck sweetly.

You combed his hair with your fingers. He emitted a low whine, especially when you massaged his nape.

“Would you like to try something, Koo?” You were getting an idea.

He seemed to raise his head like a curious bunny. “Mhmh.”

“Remembered when we tried cockwarming?” You asked, ready for mischief.

“Of course.” He replied. Duh.

“What if we did the same here. I mean, if you kept your mouth there, did your thing until I can’t keep my cool?” You suggested.

“Take off this damn shirt right now.” He replied immediately, lifting himself off to allow you to move.

There we go.

[official-michael-afton]

The answers to this hell-post under the cut, I’m too lazy to fetch my books to find the specific page numbers but I WILL say which books these scenes are all in and a brief explanation on what’s going on

uh- general tw for... for Fazfrights. Just. Just the shit Fazfrights gets up to.

INTO THE PIT - “Spring bonnie pretended to be a kid’s father. Like- the animatronic. And it worked. Every adult believed that, yep that’s just his dad.” Basically, the Main Character, Oswald, finds out he can travel between the modern day and the 80s Freddy’s pizzeria through a supernatural ball pit. At one point, though, Oz’s dad gets dragged through and Spring Bonnie steps out in his place. Everyone else seems to treat Springbon as if he were just Oz’s dad, and only Oz seems to notice that his dad was replaced.

ROOM FOR ONE MORE - “Vore” Okay so this one’s a bit of a joke, but the main character, I forget his name but fuck that guy, keeps falling asleep while on night shift in a Sister Location-esque place, and while asleep, more and more Minireenas climb inside of him to just- live in him. It’s supposed to be body horror but I’ve read enough weird fetish fics that my alarm was raised towards the ending of this book.

TO BE BEAUTIFUL - “A girl’s necklace fell off and she turned into a bunch of bicycle parts as a result” So the main character, Sarah, has self image problems and basically strikes a deal with an animatronic to make her more “beautiful”. The animatronic, Eleanor, tells Sarah to wear a special necklace and tells her to NEVER take it off in exchange for her beauty. Every day, another piece of Sarah seems to become more physically attractive. One day, though, she trips and her necklace breaks off, and that’s when the illusion drops. Turns out Eleanor was actually stealing her body parts in the night, replacing them with junk(i specifically remember bicycle parts mentioned), and the necklace was the illusion tech that made her look “prettier”

SCATTER MADE THIS UP - “A kid was literally so distracted by the animatronics performing that he tripped, hit his head on the corner of an arcade table, and fuckin died right then and there” Idk man I just tried to come up with something that COULD happen but wasn’t crazy enough for you guys to be like “c’mon that can’t be real”... unfortunately some of you caught on that it was actually something that could happen therefore not absurd enough to be real XD

THE FOURTH CLOSET - “Charlie has a literal doll inside of her” So most of you know by this point that in the TSE trilogy, Charlie was murdered as a child but Henry made an animatronic in her likeness. Well if memory serves right, he first started constructing Charlie’s AI into her doll, Ella, before her animatronic body was built. When Charliebot finally got built, Henry put the Ella doll into her so her AI would transfer over. There were multiple Charliebots, representing Charlie as she grew up, which is why Ella had to be removeable, so Henry could place her into an “older” body as she grew up.

COMING HOME - “A child deals with the trauma of seeing her murdered sister’s ghost” Okay this one was one of the few really good stories that I actually enjoyed reading- long story short Susie was one of the victims and is having trouble moving on and her sister, Samantha, eventually ends up helping as they both try to cope with their traumas and it’s a good story if you’re gonna read one read this one

COUNT THE WAYS - “Freddy is way too into executions” So the main character, Millie, is way too into death as a concept(she’s the stereotypical goth chick), and long story short ends up getting trapped inside of the chest cavity of a Freddy animatronic. I think it’s implied to be a Funtime Freddy but I forget honestly. As she’s there, the Freddy taunts her, basically explaining that she did deserve an execution for the way she treated her friends and family, and starts just listing off every way he could go about killing her

THE TWISTED ONES - “Clay Burke doesn’t take the divorce well” After the events of TSE, Clay Burke and his wife have some arguments over how the whole “Carlton got kidnapped and nearly murdered” scenario went. This eventually leads to a divorce and Clay isn’t taking it well. He’s drinking, his house is a mess, it’s sad :( 

DANCE WITH ME - “Ballora is the ultimate disappointed mom” After robbing a mother of her purse outside of a Freddy’s, local thief Kasey finds a pair of cardboard glasses that belonged to the child of the mom she just stole from. She sees an image of Ballora spinning in a pirouette, but it appears Ballora gets closer and closer over time as Kasey continues her life of crime. Kasey tries moving away and starting over, but Ballora follows her(much like her past). Ballora is like a manifestation of Kasey’s problems and guilt over her life of thievery. Kasey eventually decides to right some of her wrongs and returns the purse to the mother (and the glasses to the child) that she stole from, relieving her conscience of the guilt.

THE NEW KID - “A kid murdered another kid and tried to hide the evidence, convincing another kid to be his alibi so they don’t get arrested” So after being awfully jealous of the new kid(Kelsey), Devon decides to play a prank on him at a local abandoned Freddy’s they found. Devon basically convinced Kelsey to put on an old Golden Freddy springlock suit, in hopes of just leaving him there to scare him for a couple hours, but turns out the springlocks go off and Kelsey is implied dead. Devon supposedly didn’t intend for it to happen... but Devon also shows a lot of budding serial-killer traits earlier in the book (purposely killing a bird and having no emotional response to that, maybe even proud if i remember right :c), and seems more afraid of being caught then of MURDERING A GUY

[she-toadmask]

I’m kind of in a mood suddenly so below the cut there will be me just talking about fanfics I have read or am reading and why I like fanfic and stuff because I need to just

Fanfiction fucking rocks the basic part before all the stuff about it as the story just...it’s so easy to access and there’s so much and it’s just all there on the internet I don’t have to find a physical book

And on AO3 (where 90% of good currently-updating fic is afaik) there is TAGGING where you will know what you’re getting into (unless the author suddenly adds a sex scene and only then updates the tags but at least they give a warning at the start of the chapter but it doesn’t bother me as much as it did a couple years ago as long as I know it’s coming I know it’s a tool and it has its uses) with character drama and deaths and all that jazz not to mention how Ash being a badass has a specific tag and just other random things having tags that are important parts of the story

Like there are multiple fics I have found (not all of them are living fics sadly) of writing Ash’s journey in the beginning differently, like there was one I saw once that I kind of forgot to keep reading where he went to Sinnoh (and was still rivals with Paul and I think their ship tag was there?) and it said it was following game plot and then there’s one that I definitely don’t have open anymore because it didn’t update for some amount of time where he had a Joltik and then a Ferroseed and it’s really cool and a different one that’s still living and it’s called Pity of the World and Jesse + James (who is genderfluid in this fic) + Meowth are good people and stuff and just steal abused Pokemon and they run into Ash and they all end up being travel buddies and Ash understands Pokemon (not literally of course that’s not this fic) and also just knows what James’ gender is before they say anything and also in one chapter Zapdos is in Gringy City and says something about friendship being for mortals or something??? idk we’ll see and then there’s a different fic that I was reading and lost when switching devices and Ash was raised by Pokemon and literally can speak Pokemon and it was really neat but I haven’t tried to find where I left off because I’m too lazy for that tbh but it is still updating it’s Symbiosis or Symbiotic or something like that

Most things involving Ash that aren’t shippy or weird like that (ok there are some I’m not interested in but whapdfajaldjakjdf) end up being really cool because he’s a fucking legendary magnet which can either be played for laughs or deadly serious or just not be part of the fic if it isn’t relevant and so many fics use Aura it’s really cool (including Pity of the World I think he mega evolves Pidgeot (who evolves before leaving) when he fights Sabrina who does not have a doll in this fic) and there are different ways they do it and the thing I was mentioning about his connection with Pokemon like maybe it’s just a bit more than normal or it’s just yes he is everything and I kinda skipped out on gens 6 and 7 of the anime but I get enough to understand what they mean in chat fics and when referring to it in other fics it’s really cool

I think I mentioned Creepypasta and how there were two Harry Potter Creepypasta fics, one that was one and was slow to update if it wasn’t dead and one that was on the fourth one actually I was wrong about what number it was I think and updates every two weeks the first one is more lighthearted/written by a younger person like Slendy is a character and Harry x a lot of the ‘pastas I guess and it takes place starting before 4th year and the beginning is kinda meh with some weird dialogue and absurd levels of Dumbledore Ron and Hermione bashing but it does call out some of the other legitimate problems like how the lake trial in the tournament just kidnaps people which is very big because it was Ben who was kidnapped so big yikes there and honestly it’s not what you want to read if you want something really high-quality and serious like not that it doesn’t take itself seriously but it feels closer to something I would have read when I was in middle school than most of the Sanders Sides fics I read (just using that as comparison because the vast majority of that is well-written stuff). Then the other one!!!! For one it has a much more realistic/developed take on the Creepypastas’ existence like how the stories are how they exist with Slenderman being a cosmic horror being thing more than a character with character which is always really cool and Jeff kidnaps Harry as a baby (he is Boy when he is with the Creepypasta and Harry when at Hogwarts and there’s some really cool stuff about how they’re different) and, having lived with murderers, Harry gives zero fucks about things and kills Fluffy in the first book long before other stuff happens, Quirrel tries to use him to get the stone but gets annihilated at the mirror because family and then Voldemort is just a giant white snake for the rest of the series so far and also because he sucks Lockhart tries to exorcise Harry because Harry is fucking nuts and it’s great and also Harry is a Hufflepuff and there is probably more Gryffindor bashing than is necessary and pretty much all the adults get bashed for sucking (like in book 3 the boggart stuff is called out for being hella dangerous for them also Harry can’t cast the Patronus charm make of that what you will idk what) though Harry does make for quite the conversation topic among the teachers, Harry x Neville is the main ship and Neville eventually gets resorted into Hufflepuff because the Gryffindors are being massive dicks to him, also Harry flirts with Draco because Harry gives no fucks and it’s great (also both books give Luna lots of love, like the young one she’s a Seer like from Madame Macabre’s old webcomic that’s dead as it gets and the long one she’s just a good character and shit) and Harry makes these books to spread Slenderman’s legend throughout Britain/the Wizarding World and Draco may have gotten one and survived???? but now Neville has one during the summer months (and also through feeding Fanged Geraniums or whatever live stuff and blood instead of bonemeal he is creating Audrey II and straight-up says something about having to call it Harry Jr. but that’s probably just a little joke and isn’t going to stay beyond this but it’s just fun because Little Shop of Horrors slaps) and I have big fear about him doing the stuff and getting hurt and Harry/Boy conflict will be scary

There’s this other fic I found when trying to find good fics involving Ash and it’s kinda weird and seems to be written by a younger author but we’ll see where things go, like Harry got transported by Celebi to the world of Pokemon and Giovanni is Silver and Ash’s dad and they live with him and also Harry does too and he’s in a wheelchair and also is really smart and I wish we had gotten to spend a bit longer seeing their dynamics before when Harry is 14 the Goblet of Fire somehow spits his name out and Celebi helps with getting Harry (and also the other three because of course) safely there without dying because dimensional travel is hard and Celebi is friend and Luna gets to be important here too I think she’s shown up as a named student and guided them to a room and seems to know things about the castle and that’s kinda all there is so far there’s a bit more but it’s not got a lot yet I hope the author keeps going it’s a weird idea but I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes

Oh I forgot to talk about it but there’s this whump Ash fic that was being written under one title but it got dropped and now it’s being rewritten with the same concept but under a new title and going about a lot of things a different way it’s just the same starting premise and the fic is Helpless and Ash almost dies multiple times and there’s this theme of adults failing him and also Gary fucks a thing up and Ash needs support and therapy (a good number of fics have Ash needing therapy but given the shit he’s been through that is not surprising especially from my limited knowledge of Kalos holy shit Lysandre was doing some mad shit) and it’s just good but it is a lot of hospital and Ash being hurt and almost dying so be warned if that isn’t a safe read for you

The reason I don’t just outright block explicit anymore despite the horrors of trying to find safe Pokemon fic on AO3 amidst the consensual porn, incest porn, pokephilia porn, etc., is I randomly decided to try and find some Sonic fanfic on AO3 because a couple people on YouTube have been doing Sonic story stuff (Sonic What If has some good stuff that’s just... what-if scenarios and then there’s Sonic Rewritten which takes a game’s plot and then redoes it but good like the Deadly Six having personalities or Sonic 06 not having maybe bestiality or Generations being more than ‘oh past and present stages now have nostalgia’ and Robotnik and Eggman are significantly different people in that one and it’s really cool) and I thought maybe I would find some good stuff on AO3 (which I have but nothing that I want to ramble about specifically though there was one fic where Eggman does Tails clone and then his original body dies so he’s stuck looking like Tails and it’s kinda wild) and I found a fic that was marked explicit because torture and violence (honestly it wasn’t that bad) and I like it and don’t want to miss something that I might like by accidentally blocking it and now when I try to find Pokemon fic I have to see Leon x Hop and Pokemon x human smut.

There’s one Sanders Sides fic that I was reading and I don’t remember the name nor do I know if it’s updating I think I lost it but it started from the beginning of the series with the Dark Sides being a platonic poly family and when they weren’t in the episode they were talking about it/the Light Sides and it’s honestly really really good and the author just decided to have Deceit’s name be Janus and it was amazing when it turned out that was his real name it was just great but IDK if the fic has been abandoned, I think I lost it in the shift, but it was really good (but sympathetic dark sides and unsympathetic patton and roman and logan for a bit so do be warned if those aren’t comfortable for you)

Oh yeah I remembered another fic I can talk about there was this one Creepypasta fic and it’s completed and it is a Jeff x Reader but it kind of just stops being about the romance after a certain point and just goes way off the rails. It starts like ‘oh this will be a normal x reader with mansion and Slendy is dad and Zalgo is probably evil’ and then NOPE SLENDERMAN HAS BEEN RAISING FAMILIES THAT LOVE HIM TO TURN THEM INTO CRYSTALS TO MAKE HIM MORE POWERFUL AND ZALGO IS AGAINST THAT and it just is great like I never see Zalgo being good, like Slenderman being evil or whatever is plenty common (especially in the innumerable ARG fics I don’t read because I don’t have the attention span to learn what the fuck the source is) but never in tandem with Zalgo being anything but chaotic evil n shit it’s wild and it’s great and also Slenderman’s parents have faces I guess idk that was weird also there is one smut chapter but like the author said you can skip the smut and I did and didn’t feel like I missed any plot stuff so if that’s a no for you just keep an eye out for the author’s warning. It is by a younger writer, as demonstrated by its daily updates while it was being written, tiny chapters, and some general writing style stuff common to younger writers, but honestly I just love it for being something so wildly different, under the guise of a typical x Reader fic.

Speaking of ship stuff and Creepypasta the trilogy of Sans x Creepypasta fics are amazing. The writer definitely improves over time, the beginning of the first book kind of has the weird ‘then I knew I was in love’ stuff from a couple of the pastas (then again I’m ace and demiro so starting romance is just generally weird) but it is just a really good series. Sans ends up with seven kids in the third book and, while everyone else in the Undertale cast is bashed in the first two, Papyrus does seem to get some redemption in the third, so there is that. Also Murderer Sans is a fantastic tag, Gaster made a deal with Zalgo to create the skelebros and Sans is more demon than Papyrus by a lot and Zalgo is trying to kidnap Sans and Sans’ children so he has his family together to destroy the world and wander free and it’s wild and also Chara and Flowey show up and also LJ being an angel is mentioned and relevant to the plot for a bit so that’s neat and I don’t know all the details of how it ends because I lost it when I shifted and didn’t want to find where I was but it’s a great fic (albeit with a few things I can argue on) and the author has also been writing other Sans x Creepypasta stuff but I haven’t read it because idk

I really wish I had a good Minecraft fanfic to gush about but I really don’t it’s hard to find Minecraft fic that isn’t tuber-based, either Dream and friends (which occasionally I find a good one but so much is either Dream SMP which I have no interest in getting into, involves people I don’t know from Dream SMP, or just is shippy or straight-up doesn’t have a premise I’m interested in) or Hermitcraft (I fell behind so I have no idea what’s happening anymore) (but also like Mianite and Aphmau stuff but not as much as used to, but now Dream rules all so), and it just sucks. Like if some of it was Team Crafted fic I would be on board like hell yeah give me that nostalgia juice but it’s so much shit I just don’t know. I love the idea of Minecraft fanfic because there are so many options for the world and you can either make your own characters and you probably have to but then there’s just if you use Steve Alex Herobrine or Notch how they are written depends on the author and I live for that shit it’s a big part of why I read Creepypasta fic it’s because I like when there are different ways characters can be done (not unsympathetic or sympathetic like Patton so much like straight-up different characters) like Herobrine and Notch are the big ones like good vs evil, involved vs not, serious vs comedic, there are so many different ways to play them and I’m so disappointed AO3 doesn’t have much of it and so much of it is just Dream stuff and it usually just isn’t what I’m after in a fic.

The only other fics coming to mind right now are two wildly different fics involving Springtrap x Reader, one of them is being transferred from Wattpad for copy reasons, complete with tiny-ass chapters and that language that’s just so middle-school in the best way possible (like William and Springtrap are different consciousnesses and they way the author describes their struggle at one point is just so similar to a stupid thing I did and I have so much affection for it) and the other is legitimately really really good and the reader-insert has recently found out that Springtrap is William Afton and has murdered many children and they are currently dying multiple times to help his victims pass on because they can see ghosts and it’s actually really good and I have no idea where things are going, reader has currently met up with Michael Afton, currently all purple and dead and stuff, and has learned about remnant (weird-ass shit from modern FNAF lore) and it’s getting wild. I feel like there are two types of FNAF fic, ones in the style of FNAF 3/4 and earlier and ones from maybe 4 onward. Like ones where the lore was basically ‘bad man committed murder against children and they’re possessing the animatronics and that’s why they’re trying to kill you’ and then 4 starts having some more expansive lore ish and then after that it just goes everywhere with remnant and scooping and even more locations and also the books matter probably??? There is this one fic involving Glitchtrap that hasn’t updated in a bit and it’s fun, I like the idea of Glitchtrap and really wish I could read more fic just centered around FNAF VR. Then again, BEN was always one of my favorites and after I stopped being absolutely terrified of Herobrine I really liked his possibilities, maybe I just like the story utility and possible execution of characters with wide-ranging powers over technology and affecting the real world outside of it, IDK.

Ok I’m out of ramble energy, and also topics unless I go more in-depth about specific character options, but my energy is gone so I think that’s the end of it. I typed 3,000 words about fanfictions I’m reading and probably could have talked more about some of them if I wanted. This is my new hyperfixation. I guess. At least I know I have one, it’s reassuring to know for some reason, like for a while I missed how much Pokemon was my life in elementary school and Minecraft was in sixth grade, like it was nice just having something to focus on, though maybe that’s just the college and depression talking.

That was good, I’m glad I did that. Y’all are loved.

If you seriously read this entire thing... Wow. I really appreciate you digitally listening to me talking about random fanfic shit that I like. You’re really really cool.

[samwrights]

Plastic Flowers [ 1 ]

Chapter 1: Wrong From Right

Warnings: Language

One would think that the world being populated with billions of people, a concept such as a Soulmate would not exist. It seemed absurd that every one person belonged with another—separated by fate and destined to find each other once again. But sure enough, each person was born with a destined partner, their first words that their soulmate ever speaks to them being imprinted somewhere upon their bodies. It has been a fact since the dawn of time, taught in history classes across continents. More often than not these words are never romantic, but are truly indicative of an individual. One would think the world would be a peaceful place with such a system in tact.

However, the world is not black or white nor is it simple enough to simply be at peace; the world is filled with various shades of gray. As many grow up, it seems that we tend to lose sight of that knowledge—especially in a world filled with Heroes and Villains and Soulmates. It was easy to forget that Heroes had their own personal lives filled with love, laughter, regret, and conflict, all the while trying to find their one destined person. It was even easier to forget that villains were more than destructive bastards that only wanted to do bad, and they too had a personal agenda to find their one true love. And, while volatile destruction seemed to be the only goal for the League of Villains, it wasn’t the endgame for all of them. If anything, most villains wanted the same things most people wanted—financial security, status and power, and to find their soulmate. In some scenarios, villains that weren’t associated with the League of Villains didn’t even realize that they were on the same side, often downplaying their crimes in comparison.

I did it for my love.

I did it because I deserve better.

I did it to survive.

Minus the dedicated search for her soulmate, such was the case for Hitoko Ohta—a thought to be quirkless orphan that ran away that used her quirk that manifested later in life to escape being put back into the system. The discovery of her quirk was not as eventful as most, for she learned in her early tween years that she was able to control inanimate objects through her days of playing with dolls. Hitoko often imagined different voices and scenarios when playing with her dolls, unknowingly bringing her imagination to life as she got older. The dolls would move without her hand holding them up, and even began to have voices of their own. Eventually they began to adopt human features such as various hair textures and even eye colors. But when it came to the orphanage checking on their inhabitants and their quirks, Hitoko’s mind would shut off along with her quirk—successfully fooling everyone into believing she was quirkless.

Why she didn’t want the headmaster of the orphanage knowing she did indeed have a quirk, nobody knew. Not even Hitoko herself. All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want to be a hero. Stupid heroes—it was all their fault that she was an orphan. If stupid heroes would have saved her parents from their burning office building when she was a toddler, Mr. and Mrs. Ohta would have still been alive. But that wasn’t what life had planned for her, she used to think, while she was trapped in The Exemplary Home for Girls, manifesting her quirk in quiet day by day until she had complete control over it.

It seemed life had so many other things planned for her, she remembers thinking the moment her Soulmate mark appeared on her body. Everyone in the orphanage remembered that day. At only ten years old, Hitoko felt the searing pain on the flesh of her right forearm as she was branded with the first words her soulmate would ever say to her—I will fucking kill you, bitch. It didn’t take very long to figure out that she was most likely going to end up with a villain which, in turn, caused the inhabitants of the Exemplary Home for Girls to shun Hitoko and keep their distance from her. With the young orphan’s obvious distaste for heroes, they too thought she would become a villain. It was almost a relief that Hitoko lacked a quirk, to the orphanage’s knowledge anyway. Maybe they still had time to lead her into a path of good.

It had taken several years for Hitoko to have a complete grasp on her powers—graduating from dolls to stuffed animals, up to mannequins she had found in the attic of the EHG. By the age of fifteen, Hitoko was able to make mannequins look like real humans, and was able to will them to do her bidding with only her mind. After perfecting her power, she decided to test out the extent of her quirk by controlling a mannequin to attempt to adopt her. She still remembers clear as day as she tricked the headmaster into letting her leave.

“Her? Are you sure? We have many promising young girls, many of them talented enough to get into UA.” The headmistress, Lady Shougi, said in earnest to Hitoko’s lifelike mannequin. So far so good, the headmistress didn’t seem to suspect anything suspicious. Though, she would be surprised if she did. The mannequin took on the form of an average forty year old woman, brunette and starting to show the slightest signs of aging with slightly graying hair and prominent crows feet thanks to Hitoko’s quirk.

“All the more reason. I myself am quirkless, it would be wonderful to have a daughter to share a normal life with.” The pseudo-human responded.

“I understand.” Lady Shougi replied, not exactly happy that of all of her girls to be chosen to be adopted, it was the one quirkless girl she had and not one of the pride and joys she had been harnessing. “I suppose I must disclose this before we fill out the papers.” The head mistress said in one last attempt to get the doll to adopt a different, more suitable child. “Hitoko has had some...issues with potential families. Most likely due to the fact that her Soulmate seems to be with a potential villain, and whomever it is plans on killing her. Not many families could deal with the potential heartbreak of their daughter getting murdered by their soulmate.” The mannequin stayed quiet, due to the lack of command coming from Hitoko. Her heart shattered as she listened to the headmaster speak.

“T-that’s alright.” The doll finally said. “She deserves a shot at a normal life, regardless if she is quirkless or a villains mate.” The headmistress sighed in defeat.

“Ohta, could you come here dear?” Knowing that all of the young ladies in the orphanage gathered outside of her office when there was a potential adoption. Pretending to show slight concern as if she were in trouble, the young teen stepped into the headmistress’ office.

“You called for me?” Hitoko asked politely, looking at her mannequin before looking to her primary caretaker with faux wide eyes behind her large, black rimmed glasses.

“It seems someone has shown interest in adopting you.” From there, the rest was a breeze. Hitoko manipulated the mannequin into being a gushing, doting mother and ready to sign off on her paper work right away. Crazy how the head mistress never caught on, even as Hitoko walked out hand in hand with her creation that ended up disappearing as soon as they were out of sight.

Despite not having the slightest clue as to what to do or how to survive on her own with her newfound freedom, Hitoko was glad to be free of that prison she was forced to call home. But her elation was quickly deflated when she came to realize she had no money, no food, no shelter—she had no way of living in the real world. All Hitoko had was herself and her stupid quirk that could control inanimate objects, something she thought to be useless in the real world—in any world.

Rather than it being useless, her quirk was the only thing she had that contributed to her survival.

That was ten years ago. In present day, Hitoko stood in the solitude of her apartment located above the business she had built—a coffee shop and bar, aptly named The Upside Down, open damn near twenty four hours, closed only Sunday and Monday, that was entirely run by her. Not that anybody knew that she was always the one working, thanks to the use of her quirk. As far as anyone was concerned, Hitoko just hired an amazing team of social butterflies that knew how to get the job done. Nobody needed to know it was just Hitoko controlling a bunch of mannequins she had stolen from department stores. To keep up the ruse, she made sure to rotate between dolls, making sure that their schedules were as realistic as possible.

It was currently a late Friday night, or rather a very early Saturday morning. As per usual, Hitoko was running the bar by herself, giving her quirk a rest and only using it when she needed a hand. Building her business from the ground up, Hitoko recognized many of the faces that entered her space and all of them knew her. Or rather, they thought they did. Many of her patrons thought her to be an innocent, yet foul mouthed, sassy young woman. They didn’t know the secrets she buried.

Business was steady, Hitoko notes, as she wipes down the bar where her regulars sat while teetering between the decision to go home or continue being served way past the legal limit. Despite it being Friday, The Upside Down was a much quieter space than many other bars in the downtown area, most likely due to it not being as hip of a dive bar as others, or the lack of uppity music. Just a handful of regulars, a couple new faces hanging out on the bars prized possession—a brand new Snooker pool table made of mahogany wood with fresh black felt. The table was accompanied by her own personal cues that she donated to the bar. The whole set was her pride and joy as well as her newest addition to her space. Hitoko was very thankful not many of her patrons new enough about pool to realize that the table was nearly fifteen thousand American dollars. Instead she would wager with her patrons, betting bar tabs if she could beat them, telling them to come back tomorrow if she won. It was the way Hitoko wanted things—nice and chill.

It was the way she wanted things, but you don’t always get what you want.

Why had he agreed to any of this? Despite finally growing out of his grumpy behavior at the age of twenty five, Katsuki Bakugo still despised prolonged social interaction that wasn’t related to his pro-hero career.

“We’re on call, dude. And we’re close enough to downtown that if anything happens, we can be there in a flash.” Kirishima said to convince him to come out. Bakugo initially agreed with hesitation, but he absolutely would have refused his best friend if he had found out he had also invited Deku.

“So why did you have to invite him?” Katsuki snarls.

“I invited everyone we graduated with! I thought it would be nice for all of us to get together.” A click of his tongue left Katsuki‘s lips, but resigned from further comment as he took his turn playing pool against Kirishima.

“I think it’s nice that we’re all together!” Izuku chimes in after declaring he wanted to take on the winner. In response, the blonde bomber just rolled his eyes as he potted the eight ball. Even though he won, Katsuki couldn’t just place his sour mood on anything and could only think Deku’s presence was to blame.

“Drinks on you, idiot.” Katsuki jeered to Red Riot, clapping him on the back out of good sportsmanship. Immediately, the blonde’s features turned into a scowl as he watched Deku rack. Kirishima has disappeared to get them all another round. Katsuki broke, the white cue ball flying off the table and shattering the glass wall separating the Upside Down’s espresso machine and customer area. Slight embarrassment flooded Katsuki’s veins—he never table scratched like that. Stupid Deku must have racked too loosely, there was no way he could have scratched intentionally. “Fucking Deku, you couldn’t have made sure that all the balls were at least touching each other?!”

“K-Kacchan, I did—“

“We all know you like seeing balls touch so why is it so fucking hard for you to do a proper rack?” By now, Kirishima has come back with a tray of beers for everybody, his heart stopped when he saw all the shattered glass. Dammit, he was a regular here! He didn’t want to piss off the owner! To make matters even worse, his stupid hot headed best friend was screaming at the number one hero, loud enough to draw in all the patrons attention.

“Hey, Bakubro, cool it.” Eijiro tried to interfere, but in turn only upset the blonde more.

“Shut it, shitheads.” Katsuki snarled, throwing the pool cue on the table out of anger and unintentionally detonating a bomb. The blast was the final straw, alerting the owner that something was going on. No, the breaking of glass didn’t quite cut it—it was a pretty common noise in a bar. However, the sound of wood cracking, pool balls hitting both the ground and shattering even more glass, and the sound of rushing water is what alerted the owner.

The brunette woman behind the counter looked over, seeing the yellow nine ball on the floor just behind her espresso machine—the machine brandished with a new dent and water shooting out of the drain tub. Hitoko’s mind went blank as she watched the water beginning to pool on her now shattered cheap tile. Seeing the ball on the floor prompted her to check out her prized possession, though she wished she hadn’t. Hitoko hoped she was dreaming and that she didn’t just see her fifteen thousand dollar table in pieces. Three men stood around the table like guilty knights, though one had her back to her. Only knowing one of them, Hitoko could only blame him.

“Eijiro!” The brunette snapped, stomping her way from behind the bar and making her way over. It was reality. Her baby was shattered into a million pieces. “What the fuck, dude!”

“I-I’m so sorry, Kohta! H-he didn’t mean to—!” Hitoko cut him off sharply despite the use of her nickname as a sign of familiarity. Eijiro had gone white, frightful of the temper of the cafe owner. Deku too looked terrified, he never did well when people besides Kacchan were angry with him.

“I am so sorry, ma’am—“ The green haired hero started.

“Get out.” She bit.

“W-wha—“ As Deku stuttered Bakugo had finally turned to look at the now red faced owner. Hitoko was seething, and he knew it was his fault. However, in his typical fashion, his bad mood refused to take responsibility of his actions.

“You heard me. Get the fuck out, I never want to see you in here ever again.” The entire time, the brunette’s soft violet eyes were burning with fierce intensity focused on the blonde bomber—staring right through him from behind her glasses. As if she could see his soul, or could feel the fire that was now burning inside of Bakugo. His arm was throbbing with a dull, warm sensation. It was how he imagined it felt to get a tattoo on his left forearm, but he elected to ignore it. Instead, still fueled from his anger, Bakugo began yelling at the young woman.

“I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!” Eijiro stepped in, grasping the number two hero’s shoulder.

“Dude, don’t.” Eijiro knew what type of temperament the young brunette held due to handling unruly bar guests, often comparing her to his best friend in his own mind. But none of that mattered to Hitoko. The minute the words left the blonde’s lips, her arm too began to burn. The buzz of a fresh tattoo in progress was putting it mildly. Her arm felt like she was on fire, and while she had the slightest hint as to why, she didn’t want to acknowledge it right this second.

“Everyone out!” Hitoko boomed, making all of her regulars turn to face the usually warm and welcoming woman. “Tabs on me tonight, I have to close due to a pipe burst.” It seemed her tone had calmed slightly, maybe it was only because she was speaking to those that didn’t just wreck her bar. The three heroes on call shuffled to follow out the small crowd until the woman stopped them. “Oh no, you stay.”

“You just told us to get the fuck out!” Bakugo yelled, getting in the brunette’s face with a finger pointed at her. She was shorter than him, not by much, but still he towered over her by a whole head even as he slouched. With a hard look, her violet eyes glared at him through her glasses before she reached up and grabbed his wrist. The burn in her arm pulsed further at the contact, reminding her the truth the two had just uncovered.

“You and I have business to discuss.” Hitoko chided.

“What business could we possibly have after you just told me to get the fuck out?!” By now, the bar had cleared out except for Kirishima, Midoriya, and Bakugo. Pausing before she spoke, Hitoko rolled up the sleeves of her arms revealing many tattoos on both of them, except for her right forearm that was clearly brandished and raised with a simple phrase—I will kill you, bitch. The letters were jagged and rough, matching the tone of Katsuki.

“You’re my soulmate, ass.”

Between the four of them was a thick silence full of tension. “Kacchan, she’s your soulmate!” Deku cheered in excitement for his childhood friend. Thus far, he was the only one who dared to speak while Katsuki’s emotions began muddling in his anger. Kirishima was dumbfounded. He had found this place months ago and started hanging around quite often; Eijiro never would have considered this girl to be his best friend’s soulmate.

“Tch, yeah right.” He sneered before looking at the brunette. There’s no way, he decided, continuing to ignore the burning in his arm opposite to hers where his mark resides. There was no way this little five foot something chick was his soulmate. She was so plain to him. Dark brown wavy hair, dull purple eyes, large lens glasses with thick black frames? Maybe her only interesting trait was the ink littering her skin. But no. No way. He’d always imagined his soulmate would be some crazy firecracker that wanted to be in the spotlight as much as he did, not this old hag in a young woman’s body.

With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed his left wrist, flipping it over to reveal his soulmate mark. Sure enough, the once black script had faded to white, signifying he had met his soulmate, the elegant lettering forming such a brash statement—I never want to see you in here ever again. Hitoko never considered those would be her first words to whom was supposed to be her life partner. Her violet eyes stared at the mark blankly as she read the words over and over. It was a little too long for Bakugo’s liking, yet he didn’t yank it away from her.

Finally tearing herself away from touching him, Hitoko let out a gentle sigh as she pushed her large glasses back over the bridge of her nose. “W-we should get going, right Eijiro?” Deku says softly to Red Riot, hoping the other two didn’t hear. Kirishima responds with a soft nod before attempting to excuse the two of them.

“Uh, duty calls!” His blatant lie was too obvious to Katsuki and Hitoko, but neither of them said anything to keep the other two heroes as they made their lackluster escape. They were alone now, each of them entirely captivated with their own thoughts.

Hitoko spent years of her life wishing she would never have to meet her soulmate. When she was a child and still in the Exemplary Home for Girls, it was because she shared the fears of her peers—fears that her soulmate was a villain. But as she grew, the desire to meet her partner, or lack thereof, was due to her own personal greed. She had her business, her clientele, her life; all things she had done by herself. Hitoko didn’t need anyone else—soulmate or otherwise.

Katsuki was, on the other hand, entirely fearful of what was to come after this, knowing full well he never wanted to find his predetermined life partner. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he had always feared that his soulmate would meet him and despise him. Whether out of disappointment or disgust, it didn’t matter to him; it was the very reason he wanted to be the best at everything. If he were the best at everything, there’s no way his soulmate would hate him. But now that they had finally met, Katsuki couldn’t help but feel like he had been the one disappointed. He wanted someone as vivacious and determined as he was, and this girl just seemed to be the opposite. It reaffirmed his apprehension of the next step even further—he was afraid of establishing their soul bond.

As many have learned through generations, the next step in the process after meeting one’s soulmate was to establish a bond. History had taught civilizations what happens when a bond is left untouched, humanity begins to crumble, wars are waged, and varying calamities strike the land. Unpaired souls begin to weaken and, with quirks eventually joining the normality of the world, quirks ran rampant. A rumor existed that a bond that never established was the very reason the original wielders of One for All and All for One ended up becoming archenemies, eventually creating the massive rift in humanity and birthing the classes of Heroes and Villains.

Bakugo feared he would lose all control over his quirk or even worse, lose his quirk all together.

He feared he would no longer be the best.

“So now what?” Katsuki grit out from behind his teeth. His crimson eyes cast a slightly downward glance, holding a stern gaze with the brunette. Though he would never admit it, whatever response came from her mouth made him anxious.

“What do you mean?” Hitoko drawled sarcastically. “Now, I need to clean up, shut off my water, and assess all the damage you caused.”

“I meant about our marks, idiot!” By now, the brunette was no longer holding eye contact with him and, instead, was picking up the loose pool balls spread across the floor. The entire time, she remained quiet, making Bakugo angrier by the second. “If we don’t establish our bond, we could lose our quirks, and I will not let you be the reason that happens.” Venom dripped from each word, fueling the woman’s own temper.

“Good thing I don’t have a quirk then.” Hitoko bit back, still refusing to look at him as she lied. Bakugo’s presence was annoying her now. During her clean up, she missed the stupefied, dumbfounded look on his face. His soulmate was quirkless on top of everything else? No way. No fucking way! What malicious, omniscient being decided to play such a cruel prank on him? Out of all the billions of people in the world, he had to be matched up with a person who had nothing to lose from not solidifying their bond? Reality was a cold hard bitch.

“So because you have nothing to lose, you’re just gonna leave this alone?” Bakugo asked in disbelief.

“Obviously.” She drawled.“I’ve been doing just fine alone, then all of the sudden I meet my soulmate and he destroys my cafe and ends up setting me back almost a months worth of income?” Hitoko had finished collecting the rack and putting them in their holding tray, save for the yellow nine ball that was behind the bar. The tray now rested on the sugar bar where people could add fix ins to their coffee and she stomped up to her damned soulmate. “Do you think I’m even remotely concerned about our stupid fucking arrangement right now?”

For once, Bakugo remained quiet, but not to seethe. Had he been his younger self, he absolutely would have retaliated without thinking—calling her names and pointing out her selfishness. A part of growing up for him meant that he finally learned to listen more before speaking. “I didn’t mean to break your shit.” Bakugo says quietly, beginning to pick up the larger pieces of broken wood and felt from the wrecked Snooker table.

“I understand that,” Hitoko responds. “That doesn’t mean that you didn’t financially set me back by a shit ton. I’m probably out close to fifty thousand dollars now.” Bakugo’s eyes widened—how much destruction did he cause?! His mind was reeling; his soulmate was quirkless and he had just ruined half of her bar, her livelihood, and potentially her only source of income. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt the slightest bit guilty. With his anger subsided, all Bakugo felt was a bit of shame mixed with culpability and confusion. Interrupted by the buzzing of his pager, the blonde looked to the woman once again who was slaving away with a broom and dustpan in hand.

“I gotta go.” He says abruptly, to which Hitoko only shrugs.

“That’s fine, I don’t need your help anyways.” She hadn’t meant for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but paid it no mind. In truth, she didn’t care nearly as much as she probably should have. There were more pressing matters at hand; she was going to need to purchase a new espresso machine, replace the glass he shattered, eventually order a new pool table, fix the pipe burst—The Upside Down was going to need to remain empty and closed for a little. Hitoko’s mind was reeling with concern as to how she was going to acquire what she needed, while Bakugo could only sneer at the woman.

“Tch,” He grunts. “Whatever. I didn’t want to help you anyway.” Without another word, Bakugo storms out, leaving the owner of the bar to her own devices. It wasn’t until he heard the lock of the door click behind him until he realized she never told him her name. Remembering that Kirishima had said it, he realized he wasn’t even remotely paying attention. He felt pretty stupid.

Bakugo didn’t know his own soulmate’s name, and he was too afraid to ask his friend what it was.

Plastic Flowers Masterlist

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[terriblesportsimagines]

Hello there! If you have time, I’d really like a scenario with Ryousuke (DnA), Akashi (KnB) and Makoto (Free!) and their s/o participating (probably as the class event) in a maid cafe. How do you think they’d react if they were hit on? Thank you in advance and make sure to take care of yourself! I positively adore your writing! :)

Thank you doll!

Kominato Ryousuke

It was to be expected that you would draw attention.  He’d known from the moment you told him thatyour class had decided on a maid café. You were, of course, gorgeous, and in costume?  How was anyone supposed to survive looking atyou?

That didn’t mean he liked it, or liked watching others leerat you.  The dress you were wearing putyour legs fully on display, and the stockings that encased your legs tomid-thigh made everything worse.  Still,he staked out a table and refused to leave. He knew you would feel better with him there, and his presence mightkeep the worst offenders at bay.

You looked edible though, and it made it difficult toconcentrate on anything.  All sorts offantasies played through his mind as he sat there, forcing the cake and teayou’d brought down his throat, even though he didn’t like sweets as a generalrule.  He wondered if you would bewilling to humor him later…

His presence was enough to discourage those that would hiton you, especially when he sent them his sharpest smile.  When one or two of them got a little too bold, ignoring his threat, he slidinto the space behind you and took you by the waist.  “You’re needed over here, little one,” hesaid, pulling you away from the leering group.

“Ryou!” You hissed as he dragged you away.  “I’m trying to work!”

“You will be working,” Ryou replied mildly.  “You’ll be serving me, and isn’t that even more important?”

You sighed.  “You arethe worst, it doesn’t mean anything!”

“Of course it doesn’t,” and it didn’t, he knew that.  Still, “It’s not in my nature to relinquishso easily.  Besides, I’m a payingcustomer, shouldn’t I get the same attention?”

“Or all my attention,” you muttered, reaching his table.

“What was that?”

Slapping a bright smile on your face, “Nothing, mylord.  How may I serve you today?”

Ryousuke smirked.  Hedid like it when you sparked at him.

Akashi Seijuro

Crimson eyes tracked your deliciously clad form as youscurried around the makeshift maid café. The dress did wonders for you, but he liked the black ribbon around yourthroat the most.  It conjured other images that had his bloodstirring.

One thing was clear, however.  He was going to have to do something aboutthe fawning.  He wasn’t the only one thatnoticed how lovely you looked in your costume, and the fantasy setting made thepatrons of the café bold in their attention. He wasn’t about to watch you slap a hand away yet again.

Luckily, this problem was easily solved.

“____, you’ve been specially requested.”

You blinked in confusion. Requested?  Could people actually do that? “What?”

“He’s paid for you to serve him until closing,” your classrepresentative and nominal manager of the café said dryly.  “Absurd, if you ask me, but it means we’llprobably earn the most money of the festival, which makes us look goodright?  Off you go.”

You didn’t need to turn to find out who had done such aridiculous thing.  Truly, there was onlyone person with enough money, power, and an vested interest to make you hissole maid.  “Sei-chan,” you grumbled,trudging over to the table he’d decided was his.  “This was unnecessary.”

Your boyfriend only smiled his worst smile and tilted hishead.  “Oh?  Do you call all your guests so familiarly?”

So it was like that, was it? There was no getting out of it. Once he got an idea in his mind, he was stubborn – or, as he used tosay, he was absolute.  “My apologies, master.  How may I serve you today?”

His eyes widened with excitement and something dark and notappropriate at all moved throughthem.  “Now that is a proper greeting.”

Tachibana Makoto

“Oh, look, there’s ____-chan!”

Makoto looked up from the ground he was studying at Nagisa’scall.  When his eyes landed on you, hiswhole being seized.  You were so… He hadto bite his lip to keep his reaction inside. It was very hard.  You lookedwonderful and it made him want to run his hands over you.  But this was not the place for that, and youhad a job to do.  He didn’t want tointerrupt…

Unfortunately, Nagisa would not be gainsaid and dragged theall three of them into the café to find an empty table.  They had to wait awhile for you to come totheir table, and when you did you were all smiles.  “Good afternoon, masters!  What can I get for you today?”

“____-chan looks super cute!” Nagisa greeted with a grin,“Ne, Mako-chan?”

You did, but he didn’t want to embarrass you too much, so hejust nodded and sent you a gentle smile.

You still blushed, but looked happy, so he didn’t mind.  “I want mackerel,” Haru said, blinkingslowly, not even looking at the small menu on the table.

“I’m sorry, master, we have only cake, cookies coffee andtea on the menu.  Can I get you any ofthose things?”

Haru nearly pouted, but agreed to eat cake with the rest ofthem.  You bowed politely and scurriedaway.  “Ne, Mako-chan, doesn’t it botheryou, that all these other people are hitting on ____-chan?”

Makoto wasn’t sure what he meant at first.  Then he looked around and realized that youwere dodging your fair share of amorous intent. He felt bad for you, because he knew you didn’t like the attention, butalso knew that it was inevitable.  “No, Itrust ____.”

Nagisa laughed. “Mako-chan is a good boyfriend~”

Well, he tried to be.

[thirstaidkitpodcast]

THIRST AID KIT | S2E12 | RUFFLE MY FEATHERS, MARK RUFFALO

The thing about Mark Ruffalo is that he's so hot and unassuming, it can be a little bit confusing...?

Like, what the fuck is the meaning of this👆🏾? Ugh.

He reminds us of a large denomination dollar amount, all crumpled up, and then straightened so you can see just how much he’s worth, you know? He’s a dextrous performer, able to play world-weary cops or sweet boys next door, and then turn on a dime and play those charmingly wrecked bad boys. In summary, he’s a doll baby.

And so we tried to make some sense of your emotions, and get deep into the roots of his appeal. Like remember him in The Kids Are All Right? That scene with Yaya DaCosta is seared on our brains forever (and the rest of his performance is excellent or whatever), and we talk a little about that. He’s also very good in romcommy things like 13 Going On 30 and Just Like Heaven, because he’s so fucking sincere, even in absurd scenarios.

Ruffalo’s lived-in sexiness kind of reminds us of a (younger, equally hot) Detective Columbo, and it’s what makes his Hulk/Bruce Banner so compelling. So we dive a little into that too, and talk a little bit about his other life struggles and challenges that seem to have imbued him with a real tangible kindness, and everyone knows that’s the hottest thing of all. That, and an inability to keep a fucking secret (why doesn’t Marvel send him out for press tours with a muzzle???) Ugh. We love him, and want to bake him (vulva) cupcakes, you know?

This week, Fanfic Wars has two very different scenarios for Mark: hotel room vs messy couch but both feature the idea that Mark... Knows Things. Keep it locked, thirst-buckets! You can listen to the whole episode RIGHT HERE (more ways to listen are listed below).

SOME STUFF TO WATCH AND READ, IF YOU LIKE!

Mark on doing sex scenes

Nichole’s fave Mark.

This is him spoiling Infinity War, bless.

Here he is, reading thirsty tweets about himself, and being gently horrified.

Here is his first paid acting credit, for Clearasil face wash. MY HEART!

BUT ARE WE STILL THIRSTY, THO? MARK ANSWERS BELOW.

We’re on Twitter at @bimadew and @tnwhiskeywoman.  The show is at  @thirstaidkit. Send us your Thirst Sommelierrequests at 765-884-4778 aka 7658-THIRST (international listeners: send us a short recorded message via email, please) and your (short!) drabbles at thirstaidkit@buzzfeed.com. Please, if you can, rate and review us on Apple Podcasts. We appreciate it!

Subscribe to get new episodes every Thursday. We’re on: Apple | Stitcher | Spotify | Podbean | Overcast or search ‘Thirst Aid Kit’ wherever you get your podcasts.

[frederator-studios]

Tiya Zhong: The Frederator Interview

Tiya Zhong, known to the interweb as Addictiya, is an animator, illustrator, designer and doll artist still brushing off glitter from her graduation just a few weeks ago. Her final film as a student of Sheridan College’s Animation program, “Lost, Stolen, Dropped,” is an autobiography of her daily struggle. It is also among the most relatable, inspired and squishy 2 minutes of animation I’ve seen in a good long while. Enjoy the short above, then read on for Tiya’s journey from schoolgirl doodling in her textbooks to professional artist!

Did you always want to be an animator or artist?

I discovered my passion for drawing when I was 4 years old, and I have always loved doodling figures on my textbooks, reading comics, and watching animation. When I was little, I never thought about becoming an artist - I just thought it would be fun if I could draw forever. In high school, I wanted to be a comic artist, but I became fascinated with making characters come to life. Animation was even more vivid than comics, which is why I chose to major in it.

How did you decide to move from China to Canada to attend Sheridan?

I grew up in China, so at first I planned to attend a university in Beijing that features the best animation program in China. In an extra-curricular art school where I was studying to pass the university’s entrance exam, I met a substitute teacher who'd studied abroad. Talking with him made me realize how many opportunities and great artists are out there. That’s when I started to research animation schools in North America, and got to know Sheridan.

What did you like best about studying at Sheridan?

I learned a lot at Sheridan. The school has great, experienced teachers. But I learned the most from my peers, who are all amazing artists. Being in that group gave me no choice but to improve. What I enjoyed most is how free the environment is, compared to the one I’d been in. I also had a lot more resources at my disposal. Being at Sheridan really helped me discover my own art style.

Did you work any jobs during your time in college?

Since high school, I have always worked on stuff for conventions: things like zines, charms, and commissions. During college I actively kept my eyes on the industry and started to take freelance jobs. I’ve done character illustrations for games, art for a published illustration tutorial, design work, and more commissions, mostly with Chinese companies. I think it’s really important for artists to have at least some experience working with partners or employers before finishing school.

What are your favorite techniques, considering you've worked in both 2d and stop-motion? And those are just the two I know for sure!

Yes, I’ve done a little bit of 3D for assignments, but so far I’ve only worked in 2D and stop motion. I love both techniques equally! They are two different forms of art and each has stunning aspects. I love how free 2D can be, and how much you can play with crazy distortions, squash and stretch. I also love the process of crafting puppets and sets and being able to hold them in my hand.

What inspires you and your work the most?

Japanese anime definitely influences my work. They are my childhood and what made me keep the pencil in my hand! In the process of creating, I also look for references in many forms: live action movies, fashion, short films, photography. Anything related to art.

Is there anything that comes up in your work over and over?

I built my interest in life drawing while studying at Sheridan. Now, emphasizing the beauty and curls of human bodies has become a core part of my drawings.

How was the experience of creating "Quarters" in a team of 9 animators? 

Creating “Quarters” with 8 other amazing artists was a really great experience! It was our first try, but there were no conflicts and everything went smoothly. Everyone pitched an idea for the film and we voted for the ‘four neighbors’ idea, which became “Quarters”. I worked on layout designs, prop and sets fabrication, shooting area setups, animation, and some post-production color corrections. We spread the work pretty much equally to everyone, so that we could all gain experience in every stage of creating a stop motion film.

What inspired you to create "Lost, Stolen, Dropped"?

I had two other ideas for my final film before “Lost, Stolen, Dropped,” but they didn’t feel authentic to me. Personally, I prefer telling stories on subjects that I’m knowledgeable about, or have experienced myself. So one month into my 4th year, I gave up my first idea and all the storyboards I’d done for it. I thought, “What subject am I really familiar with? Is there anything that I know better than anyone else?” At the same time, I lost my brand new Cintiq pro pen. Not long before then I had lost my wallet. Aaaand my portable hard drive. My roommate commented that losing things is my everyday life. That’s what inspired me - I am really good at losing things! So I decided to make a film about that.

Love it. Do you often pull from your own life in your stories?

Actually, I can trace it back all the way to primary school! I used to draw comics as my diaries. With four panels comics, I’d record anything that happened in my life that I found fun. By the end of grade 7, I had a whole sketchbook of my personal life. I only showed it to my closest friends.

What were the biggest changes you made to "Lost, Stolen, Dropped" while working on the film? What were the biggest challenges?

I made a big change in the story. At the end of the first version, I made lots of copies of the main character, which came from all the different scenarios or timelines. They all appeared in her messy room, staring at her and guiding her to find her phone. That ending had a very dark and absurd feeling to it. The problem was, in order to explain that story and deliver the right feeling, the film would need to be a lot longer. And so, too much work for me. In the end, I changed lots of things and compressed the storyboard so I could finish it.

What do you plan to do now that you've graduated? Sorry to ask that question, I know it's the worst for new grads, haha.

Haha, I was so lost on this before, but now I kind of have a blueprint! The very first thing I want to do is find a job that I like, start saving, and get my PR (permanent residency) here in Canada, which is very realistic. I'll use my savings to go to grad school or take online classes: anything to improve my skills and broaden my perspective. Eventually, I want to work on personal projects without having to worry about financial issues.

Do you have a favorite cartoon, film, or artist?

Different films have been my favorite at different times in my life... I just love work that has great stories or strong emotions. I can’t really pick one film as my favorite, but Masaaki Yuasa is definitely one of my favorite directors! What I admire most about his films is how the abstract parts serve the expressive storytelling, and the drawings are always loose. That’s what I need to learn!

What's your biggest dream?

My biggest dream used to be becoming a zoologist! That was when I was 8. Now, my dream is to connect with great artists and studios over the world. To learn from them, work on fun projects, live a happy, healthy life, and occasionally go on vacations so that I can work on my other hobbies!

What are your hobbies outside of animation?

I’m interested in a wide range of things! Biking, gym exercise, photography, choreography, sculpting, sewing, leathercraft. But my greatest interest, outside of animation, is dolls and puppets! I love all kinds of dolls and toys. Different doll artists always make dolls with different characteristics, and that self-expression element is what appeals to me. I want to be able to create my own porcelain or resin doll one day. I am working hard toward that goal! ❀

Follow Addictiya on Instagram

Thank you for the interview Tiya! Love your work and am so looking forward to seeing what you do next. Enjoy home and your summer vacation pre-Adulting, you’ve earned the heck out of it!

- Cooper ❀

[thetaoofbetty]

Which do you dislike more? J*ronica or b*rchie? And why?

Okay first of all, hey hello how you? Hope it’s good, like, unicorns brought you breakfast in bed and fluffed your pillows while reading you your favorite story levels of good. 

Now, second of all, HOW DARE YOU? 

Whew, I’m glad we got that out of the way. 

So, I just want you to know you asked for it, right? Okay. Good. For me to answer this appropriately I need to take you on a little adventure. When I was but a wee smidge of a Smudge, I loved comics. You name it, I wanted to read it, and that includes Archie comics. Did I understand them fully? No. 

I’m putting the rest under a cut because it’s going to get absurd

Fast forward to a Pre-Pubescent Me, I finally figure out what Archie comics are about. And I’m pissed. By this point I had been raised with some out of the box (at the time) thinking, which includes having mostly brunette dolls because my dad didn’t want me to ever come up with a standard of beauty that I, as a brunette, could never reach since most of the dolls were blonde at the time. It also includes being told I could do anything I wanted to do and men weren’t a necessary component to happiness. 

(if you’re wondering if Puberty Me was a real pill, yeah, probably but I think we can also blame Alanis Morrissette for that too, so, meh)

What the real issue was, is that I loved Betty Cooper. Loved her. And she let me down so terribly by chasing Archie constantly even though he obviously preferred another girl. Here’s the deal. If any dude prefers another girl and only comes to me when no one else is available, he’s going to get a face full of door every time. Mama don’t play that game. 

I learned early on that men who want you, they will pursue you. Truly. You can make excuses for them if you want but eventually they’ll go for it if they really want you. 

Anyway, the point of the above is that it was obvious that Archie doesn’t want Betty. It was clear to me, so why couldn’t Betty see that?! 

And Jughead cares for Betty. Clearly. I honestly didn’t realize they weren’t together when I was younger, I just sort of glossed over it, sure, but Jughead was and is a great friend to Betty. 

That being said, and this is one of the truest things I’ll ever say- I prefer B*rchie if pressed to choose. (and I mean, threatening me with holding my brownie over the trash can style of shakedown. What kind of monster would even…?)

Why, you ask? 

Because I have a lot of comic stuff floating in my head and Jughead doesn’t like Veronica. I can’t imagine a scenario where they’ll work or where they’ll have chemistry. I’m not buying the J*ronica love of the opposites attract trope. It’s been done already. Know what they call it? 

Bughead. 

They want to sell you some sort of Gossip Girl Dair comparison but here’s the deal, that’s not even close to the same dynamic other than money and flannel. I’m getting away from my point, sigh. Okay. Ugh, honestly, I could go for days I think. Either way, show or comic, they are not compatible. They’re just not. 

Aside from the fact that Bughead are BEYOND monogamous in my head, Jughead just does not like Veronica. Is the feeling mutual? Yes. Now in the show, they’ve brought in a bit of the comic dynamic and I like it because it fits who they are in my opinion. 

Yes, I know, I make them friends in fics and I make them banter and try to trust each other but, and I really hope it comes across, it’s not because they want to, it’s because they both love Betty. Betty is often the only reason they associate in any way. You could say Archie would make that happen but I think they’d be fine with never speaking to each other even with Archie around. 

There’s a lot more I could say about it but I think you get the gist. At least Betty and Archie have a friendship, so yeah, I hate it but I could accept B*rchie before J*ronica. 

J*ronica might be the biggest notp I have and I refuse to read it, entertain it, consider it, or act like it doesn’t gross me out. Because, ew. That includes fics where it’s even mentioned, before Bughead, thought about, or even suggested. I have no patience for it, tbh.  

It not being tagged a few times in fics have been some of the most upset I’ve gotten in fics before. I dislike bad tagging in the first place (especially when my otp end up intimate with others and I get blindsided, that’s really dirty pool to readers) but to walk into that? A grudge until the end of time. 

So, really, there’s lots of reasons for my choice but honestly? I just really frigging hate J*ronica. 

I feel like I need to add a caveat to all of the above, I’m definitely a ship and let ship sort of person, if you like something I hate, that’s cool, we can just cross it off our things we talk about list. People will always be more important that fictional characters. 

[exolstice-blog]

Dollhouse | Minseok

Genre: Slice of Life ; Fluff

Description: [Request] In which Minseok loves you so much he can’t help being overly cheesy and EXO find it disgustingly endearing.

Featuring: EXO, but mostly Jongdae and Yixing’s still in China, I’m sob

Warnings: Mentions of sexual situations, umm, dirty talk?? mommy and daddy kink???? dolls????

Word Count: 2000

Author’s Note: Thanks to the anonie who requested this scenario 💞💐 it was so fun to write (and boyfriend Minseok 😖💔) , alSO, I hope you like it (aND BOYFRIEND MINSEOK 😭💔) enjoy •^•

•••××ו••

There was a tang of sugar in the air. The scent of rising milky cakes in the oven clung to every nook and corner of the dormitory, to the dusted cushions and drawn curtains. In the last two hours or so you’d managed to make the apartment look a little less dead—which went completely beyond any miracle, to be very honest. World tours, you’ve come to learn, wore out the building almost just as much as they did the owner. With practically no one living in it, the place would become so bleak it made you shiver at first glance.

Lucky you, Manager-nim—as you liked to called him—gave you the keys with not but the quiver of a brow when you shoved a bunch of pastries onto his arms. That always did the trick.

There was a jingle of metal against metal, and the door was thrown open with not so much as a notice. You jumped, startled, but then giggled, incredibly giddy.

“How do you even forget to flush the toilet on a plane, Baekhyun, for goodness sa—ugf.” Minseok’s head banged against the door when he lost his balance. When you basically pounced at him.

“Well, good thing it’s just you who came in after, am I right?” Baekhyun stepped inside, picking Minseok’s bag from where he’d dropped it—when he had to practically catch you and him together so you wouldn’t flop straight to the ground. He walked around you, “And hey to you too, Y/N.”

The rest of them followed Baekhyun’s example and simply walked straight ahead, some patting you on the back, and others coughing their chuckles.

Minseok breathed a laugh next to your cheekbones when he kissed them. You couldn’t break away from his neck though, you wouldn’t let him play with you about the few stray tears that dropped down the tip of your nose. Still, you knew he felt them, with the skin of your lips and nose skimming the sensible tendons of his neck.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” Minseok whispered, tightening his grip around you. He was small and delicate, akin the little prince. But his arms were firm and his hands were study around your waist, on your hips, holding your thighs as they straddled him against the door—not lustful, just desperate. You’d needed him. Incredibly bad.

“I missed you, idiot,” you chuckled, sniffling your wistfulness away. “Don’t take too long next time.” But you couldn’t blame him. It was his job and he loved it. And you couldn’t be more happy for him.

“I promise,” he gave your left thigh a gentle squeeze, lifting your head by the chin with his free hand. Minseok looked unforgivingly handsome in a simple yellow hoodie with his hair completely black and covering almost the entirety of his eyes—you had just gotten your first good look at him and had to suppress a sigh because fuck.

He seemed to catch that glint in you, that little heat that jumped from you to him with the way your lips parted for him. He grinned, trailing his own lips with his wet tongue which he intended to put in your—

“You two’re, like, a great door stopper and all, but it’s bloody cold, just close the goddamn door or take your canoodling outside, call?”

And there was that.

It wasn’t like the guys didn’t like you, oh no, they adored you. But just you. Alone. Not with Minseok. Ever.

It was a funny thing for them at the beginning, of course. They had mocked Minseok’s absolute crush for you when you so much as paid him any attention at all—and then found it disgustingly adorable that their ever unbending ‘hyung’ became this tameable thing in your hands. Their feelings changed, obviously, when the anticts didn’t fall. And when Minseok often turned awfully sexual with you during dinner parties.

Which is why the rest of EXO were giving you these looks while you enjoyed your meal.

“What?” You set your spoon down with the tilt of your head. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Yes,” Minseok chuckled. To your look, he kissed his thumb, pressing it to your forehead. “There.”

You giggled and didn’t bother to conceal your blush—which surely had a brighter look with you now wearing his yellow hoodie.

Chanyeol dropped his spoon with a face, “Remind me again why I’m alone?”

“Because you’re awfully hideous?” Sehun suggested, with a mouthful of rice. Chanyeol huffed.

“Because no one likes you?” Jongdae muttered, though with a cheeky smile. Chanyeol coughed.

“Because you’re a decent human being that will save the world from that,” Baekhyun pointed his chopsticks at you and then at Minseok and then back and again. Junmyeon shook his head while Jongin laughed.

You blinked innocent as you tapped the corner of your lip, “You have a little something here.”

Baekhyun almost choked and rubbed furiously at his face, cheeks flushed. Chanyeol was clapping his hands away with laughter and Sehun and Jongin mocked him. It made you sit a little taller, feeling a sense of authority. It wasn’t a secret that you were their personal 'Noona’, cooking and taking care of them the way an older sister would. The way Minseok would. It was similar to playing this big doll family but instead of dolls, it was just you and Minseok and the 'brats’.

An awfully stupid thought crossed your mind.

If Minseok was the oldest and you were his partner—was he like their Daddy and you like their Mommy?

The absurdity and spontaneity of it made you blush.

“Guys, let the two be,” Kyungsoo smiled, picking a rice cake from the bunch. “They’re not hurting anyone.”

“You can’t mean it,” Jongdae’s eyes narrowed.

“No, I don’t,” Kyungsoo laughed. Son of a—

Dinner flowed mostly smooth after that. With the occasional 'ew’ sound they made whenever Minseok said something exceptionally cheesy—or when Junmyeon made a joke.

And. Of course. The moment Baekhyun caught Minseok—God forbid—brushing the length of your leg and thigh with the pads of his fingers under the table. That sent him into barking.

But now you were alone. Well. As alone one could be in a dormitory—in the living room, too—filled with seven other men locked up in four rooms.

But now you were with Minseok, and that’s all you could possibly need.

Oh, and he was biting your tongue.

“Fuck,” he groaned with your lips between his, clutching in fists his hoodie by your sides. His mouth travelled down the shape of your neck, “I’ve missed this so incredibly bad.”

“Keep quiet, you’ll wake them up,” you shushed him between shivers, knowing you wanted this just as much as he did.

“Nothing they haven’t heard before,” Minseok chuckled, biting particularly hard at the juncture between your collarbone and shoulder blade, making you squeak and leap a little higher up his lap.

Oh, yes, that time you’d been caught inside the training room—you still felt completely mortified. Thank God the lights had been out that day.

“You’ve no idea how many nights I touched myself to the image of you naked and all pretty, asking me to come in your mouth—”

“Lord, Minseok,” you chuckled, trying to muffle the sound on his neck. You knew he said those things to get you all flustered when you tried to stay silent for the sake of the others, his smile told you so. But it wasn’t entirely a lie that the others have heard you before, and that now you felt unquestionably hot.

“Let’s get this out of the way, doll,” Minseok stripped you from his yellow item. “Lovely.”

Ha. A doll. If this were truly a doll house and you were part of this “doll family” you wouldn’t let him kiss you the way he did—like rather aggressively warm bites and nibbles. You would be the proper doll 'big sister’, or 'mommy’, or whatever the heck you were and make him behave and stop pressing at your chest when he rubbed against you in a way that said 'there are other men under this roof, possibly awake, but let them hear and jerk off to us if they want to’.

Yes, you weren’t the perfect momma-doll, but you’d cooked for them, tended their house. Now, could you just get some time to yourself and your love, whom you’d just seen after bloody months, and let your 'husband-doll’ fuck you?

“More?” Minseok voiced your thoughts, applying sponge kisses on your neck.

“Yes, please.”

The kisses turned wet and rough and all kinds of wrong, and you swore you felt his hand parting your legs but you couldn’t be sure because a sudden bright light assaulted you through the close lids of your eyes.

“What the fuck,” Jongdae breathed, halting his steps with half the fridge door open (the kitchen just happened to be so fortunately close to the living room).

Shit. You jumped immediately and clung to Minseok’s neck, giving Jongdae the view of your almost naked back. You still wore your bra, yes, but that didn’t make the situation any less embarrassing.

“Do you need anything?” Minseok’s tone was protective as it was menacing. He hugged your form, still fully clothed.

“Just, uh, some water,” you heard the fridge door close, and Jongdae taking some steps back, before he stopped. “Don’t be too loud, alright? We’re actually trying to get some rest.”

“Is that so?” Minseok smiled. Damn. You knew what that meant—"Wouldn’t you like to join us?“

There. He did it. The way he often joked with nearly everyone that almost always made you shiver. Maybe it was the way he said it—that it didn’t appear so much as a joke. Sometimes, you really thought he wanted to try it, to have someone else with you. Maybe he felt feverish when he imagined you with someone else the way you did.

Jongdae remained silent, prompting Minseok to take action, "That isn’t clearly a no.”

And he had you back against the couch, with your arms pinned by your sides, and his mouth on your neck in such short a time you became dizzy.

“You may watch if you want, at least,” Minseok drew back, only to take his black shirt off, giving you a wink.

You bit a chuckle, trailing your hands their way, hot, to his pectorals, neck, and finally drawing him in to your mouth. You heard Jongdae’s faint “I’ll pass!” and his steps quick as he fled. Minseok smiled, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“You scared him,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder. “You’re a dick.”

“I bet you like that,” Minseok wiggled his eyebrows, incredibly annoying, and you hit him again, prompting more laughter.

You bit your lip, “We should really, really try to stay quiet.”

“Should we, doll?” He hummed, returning to your lips with the sweetest feather-touches.

“Yes,” you smiled, bringing him near you with delight. Somehow, you knew you wouldn’t.

[wozman23]

An Ode To Conan (AKA Conan Ode’Brien)

The year was 1995... or maybe '94... or at least sometime around then, give or take a year. I had just entered, or would be entering middle school, at age eleven... or twelve. With a new school came a later bedtime. So around that time I discovered two things: Saturday Night Live, and Late Night with Conan O'Brien. That was when my world changed.

For as long as I can remember, I've been a silly kid. My parents even used to throw an extra letter in my name and call me “Jokey.” Occasionally, they still do. But now, looking back, nearly 25 years later, I don't know if I'd have ever predicted just how much of my joking nature I'd be able to maintain at this point in my life. Today, at 37, if you ask me to sum up my personality in two words, they'd be “weird” and “funny.” As most age, they lose those traits. They'd instead define themselves as a “Personal Trainer” or a “Civil Engineer.” But I'm still just “weird” and “funny” - a goofball rebelling against the notion of “growing up.” I stubbornly keep the letter 'y' on the end of my name when most Josephs my age pick a more mature alternative. I have little interest in being anything else, and aspire for nothing more.

Much of that is thanks to a tall, freckled, red-headed idol I found on the late night airwaves of NBC, who danced as if he had strings on his hips and let people touch his nipple. I grew up watching cartoons like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney movies with comedic voice actors, and blockbuster movies like Ghostbusters and Mrs. Doubtfire, but I'd never seen anything as wildly experimental as Late Night. The (arguably) grown man at the helm still retained such a whimsical, silly, absurd outlook on life. He was a big kid, just having fun. It blew my mind. I was hooked. And it showed me that even if I was weird, I wasn't alone.

The absurdity of Conan and Late Night continues to be unrivaled, even to this day. There was a Masturbating Bear, who just went to town on this oddly nondescript jock strappy looking thing, Preparation H Raymond, an overly goofy looking character, with buck teeth and massive ears, who sang songs about applying a cream to irritated buttholes, and Triumph The Insult Comic Dog, who eviscerated Star Wars nerds and crashed the Westminster Dog Show. Clutch Cargo bits, where moving mouths were inserted into pictures of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Michael Jackson, and Bill Clinton, always brought the laughs in the early days, with both Robert Smigel's impressions and the disregard for making things look authentic. The In The Year 2000/3000 bits provided the rapid fire jokes of randomness that I aspire to write today, one of my favorites being: “Babies will start listening to dance music when Lady Gaga teams up with The Goo Goo Dolls to form the super group, Gaga Goo Goo.” Other recurring bits like Celebrity Survey, SAT Analogies, and Made-For-TV Movie Castings provided similar repeatable formats that brought laughs night after night, as did Actual Items, a swipe at Leno's Headline's bit. If They Mated provided us with the horrors of what the love child of two celebrities would look like, in worst case scenarios. Desk driving bits and car chase spoofs with model towns and cars always delivered. There were the silly Satellite TV Channel bits, with the standout, the Men Without Hats Conversation Channel, as well as the truly pointless – yet my all-time favorite character – Cactus Chef Playing ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ on the Flute, created solely to poke fun at the criticism that the show was absurd. Conan Sings A Lullaby was always some macabre fun. At one point, The Walker Texas Ranger lever swept the nation, ultimately resulting in one of the oddest clips ever to grace television. “...Walker told me I have AIDS.” Constant cameos delighted, with frequent appearances from Larry King and Abe Vigoda, who were both always willing to go the extra mile for a laugh. And occasionally, my beloved comedy worlds would combine with someone from SNL like Will Ferrell showing up, dressed as a sexy leprechaun, or engaging in some other antics. Jim Gaffigan birthed the Pale Force cartoon. Hornymanatee.com became a thing. Remote bits, like Conan playing old timey baseball, were always instant classics. Plus, the show birthed the idea of travel shows, with trips to places like Finland and Toronto - the second of which has one of my other favorite remote bits, Conan training with the Toronto Maple Leafs. So much memorable, silly, recklessly avant-garde stuff happened in those years of Late Night. And all the best moments happened when Conan acknowledged the astronomical stupidity of it all. It was always a pleasure to watch, and it all felt expertly crafted just for me.

In the end, a program that got off to a rocky start, fighting off cancellation time and time again, blossomed over the course of fifteen years into a comedy juggernaut and bastion of brilliant buffoonery for my generation. It was practically perfection.

Then the first transition happened...

Like many, I was apprehensive about the switch to The Tonight Show. It was great to see Conan inherit what was formerly known as the pinnacle of late night talk shows, but I wondered if America was ready to watch a bear play with his dick at 11:30pm, especially the demographic that had enjoyed Leno's far more traditional approach. I think we now have that answer. NBC managed to repeat their past mistakes, and fumbled another smooth transition of hosts. Things got kind of ugly, but Conan managed to land on his feet at TBS, where his show continued to run for another eleven years, giving him and his employees - who had relocated to Los Angeles at the start of The Tonight Show - steady work.

The one issue with the migration was that Conan no longer retained the rights to any of his intellectual property. Exceptions were made, but most of this bits and characters were absent from the now titled show, Conan. There was also one less show a week. However, new bits were concocted regularly, like Coffee Table Books That Didn't Sell, Basic Cable Name That Tune, and NBA Mascots That Should Never Dunk. New characters were spawned, like Minty, the Candy Cane That Briefly Fell on the Ground, Punxsutawney Dr. Phil - The best Dr. Phil bit since Letterman’s Words of Wisdom - and Wikibear. Will Forte showed up atop a stuffed buffalo as network owner, Ted Turner. Experimental stand-up sets, like Tig Notaro pushing a stool around or Jon Dore & Rory Scovel being double booked provided some of the best stand-up sets ever. Embracing a digital, web-based format, they introduced new segments like Clueless Gamer, catering to my love of video games. There was Puppy Conan, and Mini Conan. Plus, they doubled down on travel shows, creating the Conan Without Borders series, which I believe to be Conan's best work to date, and a shining example of who he is as a person. There were Fan Corrections, which allowed me to influence his show for five minutes, and throw my own zaniness into the world, and back at the man who stoked the funny fire in me. At some point in life, I may achieve greater things, or have children, but I may still always say that the greatest day of my life was the day I was on Conan.  

So Conan did have bright spots, but to me things were never quite the same. They were still good, but not amazing. Slowly it felt like things were beginning to decline. Longtime writer/performer Brian McCann left to return to New York. A while later, so did Brian Stack, finding a job with Colbert. The show was eventually cut to a thirty minute format. They spun it like it was a good change for the show. I however had my reservations. While I'd hoped for more experimental comedy, it seemed like the first half of the show was cut in favor of still getting in sizeable celebrity interviews. The band was gone, as were the options for nightly music acts. That meant no more fantastic moments like me discovering Lukas Graham with his subdued “7 Years” performance. Stand-up was pretty much gone too, which meant no more killer sets like Gary Gulman's bit on state abbreviations or Ismo's foreign take on the use of the word “ass” in English linguistics. Occasional product placement reared its ugly head. They had to keep the lights on, and they found a way to. So I continued to watch practically every show over the course of the eleven years.

When the pandemic hit, I found myself with more free time. So I decided to check out the Team Coco podcasts, cherry picking from the best guests of Conan O'Brien Needs A Friend, The Three Questions with Andy Richter, and Inside CONAN: An Important Hollywood Podcast. Never having paid attention to any podcasts, I found a love for them. And sometime amidst the pandemic, watching Conan interview some random celebrity, from some show I probably didn't care about, through Zoom, I kind of became at peace with the idea of a nightly Conan program ending.

From middle school, to high school, and then to college, I tuned in when I could. Without the luxury of the internet in its currently glory, or DVRs, I'd tape episodes on a VCR. Barring two or three episode of Conan that I missed while working two jobs, I've seen every episode of Conan, every Tonight Show, and a good streak leading into the end of Late Night. But I will admit that towards the end, it has sometimes felt like a chore.

One thing I didn't drag my feet on was attending tapings. It was one of the first things I did when I came to LA. Over the past few years I was fortunate to get to attend three tapings of Conan. In hindsight, I probably would have went more often. I brought family and friends along with me when they visited, but the treat was primarily for me. When he announced that the final few weeks of shows might have an audience, I knew I must go. I put in for two tapings, and fortunately the stars aligned for the third to last show with Seth Rogen. I was hoping for Ferrell, or Sandler, but it was great! It was the first show where masks were optional and it went recklessly off the rails. Like Conan, I've never been into pot. It's another of the things I enjoy about him. Like him, I don't really have a problem with it, but I've never tried it because I don't think it's for me. I’m the same way with alcohol. With a friend in town this week, I tried one of the beers he bought. I hated it, but I struggled through it. I’ll occasionally drink some fruity wine cooler but that’s about it. So seeing him reluctantly try the joint Seth handed him because he didn't care since the show was wrapping was great. Unseen in the TV edit was that after that segment, Conan and his producer, Jeff Ross, had a lengthy discussion as the band played. As the band wrapped up, Conan came back up and said to expect a rough edit on the show since they wouldn't be able to air them smoking. Turns out they could, which made for good TV. It was a symbolic moment where a man who's spend his entire career blazing his own trail – no pun intended - did so once more, knowing he had nothing to lose. I also put in a ticket request for the last show on the morning of because registration reopened for some reason, but I never got a confirmation. I'm excited to watch it tonight, but also sad to see things come to and end. But at least I can say I was there in the end.

For 28 years Conan and cast have delivered the show they wanted to make. Contrastingly, compared to the other late night shows, its always been far more apolitical, which I appreciate. Comedy to me is about dissociation. It's why I favor and write left-brained jokes about random subjects. No one really needs to hear another hackneyed Trump or Biden joke. Regardless of the state of the world, I could tune in to Conan for a mostly unbiased, silly outlook on the world. Conan always seemed to bring out the best in the guests too, making his show the premier show to tune into when someone was out in the circuit promoting something. Even the stereotypical animal segments or cooking segments provided ample laughs.

Most of the talk will be about Conan himself. But a very large part of what has always made Conan's shows great wasn't even him. A large cast of stellar writers and performers brought countless characters to life. Brian McCann and Brian Stack were longtime favorites. There was the No-Reason-To-Live Guy with his kayak, Hannigan the Traveling Salesman, Artie Kendall the Singing Ghost, and The Interrupter, to name just a few. Even people who had no business performing were utilized brilliantly, like original announcer Joel Godard or Max Weinberg both acting like creeps and perverts, trombone player Richie "LaBamba" Rosenberg being a dolt, and graphic designer Pierre Bernard in his deadpan Recliner of Rage segments. Jordan Schlansky was a comedy well. Andy Richter also deserves more praise. His quick wit makes him the perfect sidekick. I can't even begin to enumerate the amount of instance in which he was lightning fast with a witty response to someone or something. His more recent Sports Blast segments were absurdly stupid, and his Hillbilly Handfishing remote stands out as one of the best.

The late night talk show concept is built around volume. With 4368 episodes among three iterations of shows, there's a lot of time to fill. Things didn't always work, but most of the time they did. That's what you get when you experiment and evolve the medium. I've been thinking a lot about my history with the show, and it's amazing just how many silly bits, characters, and moments still bounce around in my noggin. I've only covered a small sample of the many great moments over the years. It's always seemed really weird to me that Conan has kind of been the underdog. To me, no one holds a candle to his brilliance. I can only liken attending his tapings to a few other experiences: the time I finally got to see Michael Jordan play as a Wizard, or Rush's final R40 tour – three great entities who may not have been at the height of their careers, but were still massively impressive none the less. Conan concluding tonight is very bittersweet. The future is uncertain. The details for his HBO Max show are nebulous. It's going to be far more small scale. I've always admired how much Conan has taken care of his cast and crew. He paid his writers during the strike, and his entire crew during the pandemic. But they will certainly fracture now. Will any of the writing staff follow? Will longtime performer Dan Cronin be there? Will Andy be back? Time will tell, but until then, television, the internet, and the world of comedy, will be a little less funny. In many ways, I wish we lived in a world we he still hosted Late Night, or a successful Tonight Show. But the late night landscape has changed a lot in the last few decades, so who’s to say this wasn’t the better timeline. If there’s one thing I cling on to that keeps me hopeful about the future, it’s Conan’s closing monologue from Late Night. Especially its ending: "It's time for Conan to grow up... and I assure you that's just not going to happen. I can't. This is who I am, for better or worse. It's just, I don't know how."

That hits me just as hard as it did in ‘09, if not harder. The more things change, the more they stay the same. The guy that started hosting in ‘93 is the same guy we see today. He’s still just as childish, just as absurd, just as brilliant, and a man of integrity. And as long as he is, so too will I be.

[coffee-for-himchan]

Warm On The Inside (Himchan) // “With You” series, pt.1

First part of the winter-themed 6 scenario series called “With You”. Featuring a thing I love and a thing I don’t love at all - coffee and snow. I doubt it’s hard to figure which one I hold a grudge against, even if not a too big one.

Summary: Snow was everywhere, which was about the worst there could be. With your body beyond frozen but your heart even colder, it wasn’t hard to hate everything around. Until you bumped - literally - into another, just like you. Someone a little frozen on the inside, but more than that - not keen on snow. Someone who just happened to make all around melt.

Part 1(Himchan) // Part 2 (Yongguk) // Part 3 (Jongup) // Part 4 (Daehyun) // Part 5 (Youngjae) // Part 6 (Junhong)

You'd always hated the snow.

It wasn't a burning disgust towards the white flakes that were twirling through the chilly, cool air, coating the earth in an innocent-looking, pure layer of hopefulness - it was rather mild disappointment at the fact your favorite time of year had passed, and all that was left now was to wait until the very last bits of winter wonderland would fade away and would reveal the ground underneath once again - maybe the feeling of being cold would fade with along with winter too.

Although this thing you felt in your chest was a whole other type of "cold". Not the cold you could feel when stepping out of the house in non-seasonal attire, and not the type of cold you could mend and cure with something as simple yet inviting as a heater or a fireplace.

"Feeling cold on the inside" - that's about how good you could describe it. Unwilling to open up. Frozen in your tracks when it came to getting to know people, because encounters had never resulted in anything good. Unable to crack a smile. Tired of every new day, even more tired of remembering all the ones that had already passed. Empty. Devastated. Drained of emotion.

Cold all over the soul, not bothering to actually pay attention to the physical cold until your flesh turned a light shade of pink, screaming bloody murder at every single touch of it and needing desperate attention in the form of anything that could possibly warm it up.

Simply unable to process. Needless to say, the winter didn't help.

It was supposed to be a pretty time - kids playing around outside, families gathering together for the festive days. Going gift shopping and picking the best presents for the people you loved the most, just to remind them once again with a subtle hint that you cared. Eating the best festive foods and drinking warm, seasonal beverages just because hey, why not, since it’s all here already? Sweaters and coffee as familiar melodies flooded all places, calling out for everyone to be joyful. Hopeful promises as laughs filling the air. A good time for almost everyone, yet you knew what the snow neatly coated and hid under itself, and couldn’t be fooled like the others.

It hid nothing but the plain, painful truth.

Everything under it was dead and drained, and it was just a cover up. The beautiful that hid the tragedy, the innocent mask on the face of the aching truth. The perfect hide-up for all the caused destruction. For all the wilting nature had to experience after the last wave of late autumn heat had gone with the wind, for all the dying of flowers and such as they encountered with the cold and simply froze, saying goodbyes to the sun for what seemed to be forever. For all the trees that rose like painfully sharp daggers up into the skies now, without showing any signs of being alive, and for all the creatures that could only manage to survive in the warmer months of the year, having died without a chance of survival.

You refused to be fooled by this cover-up. And refused to like it for reminding you of how frozen you were yourself, so you never even intended to pretend to like it, same as you refused to unnecessarily leave the house during this season. 

That is, until you met him.

He was just the same as you when it came to this aspect - you could hear him hissing lightly every time a snowflake hit the nape of his neck, gracefully falling past the collar of his fluffy coat, and you chuckled lightly as you saw his nose and ears turning a light shade of pink, signaling he needed to stop putting his body through the torture of being outside when the thermometer displayed a negative number on itself.

He was just like you, and for the first time in years you felt how truly melting someone’s presence could be.

He was far from being the grumpy person he sometimes seemed like - he was rather a little closed in. Being social and talkative was usually his forté, he had admitted to that at some point, but things weren't going all that good in life recently, and he simply wanted to take it easier. Realizing a lot of those people he had around every day didn't matter, as they never came back to him when he wasn't just out having fun, but was out having troubles. Figuring out he didn't need that many different faces to fill up his everyday life as they never really were of any significance, and would only eventually either forget him or cause him pain. He just needed a pause from everyone, or, well - almost everyone, as while taking it, he had more or less luckily stumbled into you. And something in his chest had told him that taking a pause from you was about the most wrong and absurd thing he could do.

He bumped into you. Literally.

Three times.

The first was at a zebra crossing in what seemed to be the very dusk of morning, since the sun rose so late at this point of year. Work was only a few blocks away from your house, and while everyone seemed to prepare for the holidays, you were planning on taking a few extra assignments. "While all of you get a round of soul-healing, I'll at least get a promotion," you thought, and scolded yourself for sounding harsh even in your thoughts, but only for a little. It wasn't far from being the truth anyways.

It was only a mere encounter, a little interaction, yet it turned out to be something that would occupy your mind for a little. The foggy atmosphere made it hard for you to see the traffic light, but as it turned green and you set your foot on the street, you slightly shoulder-bumped into someone while in the middle of the rather crowded crossing.

The stranger, being much taller and of a significantly more massive built than you were, turned his head while walking past, and you were a little disappointed to, despite all of that, not catch a proper glimpse of his face.

But his voice, low and with a little mixture of melodic and nasal, crawled in through your ear and made itself at home, lingering in your head for a little longer as you hadn’t heard another like that one yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's.. Alright."

The second time was at a coffee shop. Lunch break had you on the edge of your nerves, as well as everything else that day. Too bad that unnecessary diet you'd gone on was still a thing, and since you craved something you couldn't quite eat, you got a little frustrated and simply opted in for coffee and nothing else instead.

It was another bump into you, this time around from behind, while standing in line to order a drink. And, once again, you heard it.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

You turned to inspect his face, and all of a sudden felt your cheeks heating up. He was a little taken aback, just like you were, but the little smile on his face indicated he was glad coincidence had brought you together again. “He remembers,” you thought to yourself, a little puzzled on what was so memorable about your voice only that it had stayed to linger in his mind for longer. But then again, what was it about him that had stuck in your mind? You figured that maybe he’d thought about you too, the same way you’d thought about him for a bit earlier today.

But all other thoughts faded away as you looked at his features, and understood you'd never seen someone as genuinely pretty as him. It sure set a sense of uneasiness into you, as you felt a little insignificant and out of place here with him. Yet when the smile stayed plastered on his petite, doll-shaped lips, and a cute little dimple-like crease formed right under his eye, you felt like there was nothing to worry about. 

"Twice already today, am I right?"

"I suppose, yes."

"Not to bother you with my presence, but I'm simply rather on the clumsy side, and the universe must've chosen you as my next victim," he said, and you chuckled a little, covering your mouth with your hand as a reflex. He sure knew how to make himself seem interesting from the very first few words spoken.

"I don't mind," you replied, looking up at his face and feeling your heart fluttering a little, "After all, it doesn't bother me. Better bump into me that someone who might get offended by it. Or won't take it well."

"So I can keep doing this?"

"Sure," you chuckled a little, making him chuckle along. Gosh, even the way his whole body moved while laughing was so eye-catching, and you were a little taken aback by the lack of stares directed at him. He radiated such a sense of warmth and simple joy with his presence, and you felt yourself enjoying it.

"Would you like to order now, miss?"

The voice of the barista brought you back to reality, and you hoped she wouldn't think of you as annoying for talking while standing in line, not even noticing how it was your turn to order all of a sudden. Yet when you turned her face displayed none of that - it rather screamed "Yes, agreed. He's cute as hell. Do something about it or I might."

"Mocha, please," you shyly told her, seeing as her gaze wandered from you to him and she thought of what to say.

"And you?"

“Mocha as well, if that’s alright, please," you felt him leaning over, resting his frame on the arm that he'd extended to place his hand on the counter, just a little behind you. It occurred to you that the barista must've thought you two had come in here together, and that made you blush even more.

His presence was quite comfortable, yet burdening. Like a ray of sunshine he had managed to blind you with a mere look, and you felt a little stupid, a little happy because of it. And as your mind kept wandering this wasteland of what used to be feelings once, the barista had already approached with two coffees in hand.

"I'll get it," you heard him say, and wanted to insist, yet felt a little embarrassed to do so. There were people behind you two in the line, and the barista was still giving you a rather curious and interested yet nice and loving look. So he paid, and handed you a cup, offering you to go and sit down with him for a moment before he'd have to depart - apparently, work was quite demanding, and he shouldn't stay around at all. But he liked this place, and his new company, so he'd decided to gift himself with some fifteen free minutes to get into a little bit of trouble afterwards. He figured it could be worth it.

"You really shouldn't have," you told him, sitting down opposite of him and trying your best not to do any of the regular - to fall down, to say something wrong, snort while laughing, tell an inappropriate joke on the wrong time.. Basically, your aim was to make yourself seem normal.

"Let this be a "sorry" for all the bumping," he chuckled and took a sip, directing all of his attention on you as his head found a comfortable position to rest in on his hand.

Like a kitten, he was so cute when sitting across of you like that. Eyes slightly narrowed and lips a little puckered as he talked, filling the empty space between you two with a pleasant, nasally voice. His hands seemed rather large, and held the beverage in a funny fashion, making it seem so small when compared to how you held yours. Yet his love for coffee was the thing that amused you the most - so simply adorable, but most of all - so similar to you.

Fifteen minutes had gone with the wind way too soon, and he left you sitting alone to reflect of what had just happened. You watched his frame walking outside into the chilly street, and he turned, waving at you through the large windows lightly before disappearing within the masses of people. He was gone, yet the memory of him remained for a little longer as you recalled the last bits of conversation that had gone on just minutes ago.

"I never caught your name," you told, leaning in to rest your head on your arm. It was strange, how you immediately felt so comfortable beside him, even though you always felt rather tense around strangers. But he was a little different - a little friendly, a little clumsy and strange, but most of all - beyond eye-catching and interesting. And lovely.

"I'm Himchan," he simply told you with a smile, taking in your name just a second later the same way you took in his - with care not to forget. And as you recalled it all and realized, you cursed to yourself a little.

He'd left a name, but not a number. He was gone, and this time seemingly forever, as there was no way to reach him now.

Or so you thought, up until the third encounter - this one being a little accident on festival grounds.

Another bump, and another apology and response in the already familiar voices had caught your attentions, and you turned to him, feeling all fuzzy when you saw how his face lit up, as if he'd seen an old friend after years of being parted.

"(Y/N)!!"

And with that, you were suddenly enveloped in his arms. Getting hugs in general was rather pleasantly comfortable, but his embrace was something. As his body met with yours, his little laugh filling your left ear as he took a minute to feel your presence - it was all so new and unusual. Yet you could picture it happening again clearly. He'd sparked an interest.

"Oh god, I forgot to leave you my number today, I'm so sorry!" he swung your frames from side to side and babbled, making you chuckle as you felt your stomach filling up with butterflies, "So stupid of me, but I was in a hurry. I came back later, but you weren't there anymore, and I thought I wouldn't have the chance to meet you again-"

"You went back to look for me?"

Realization hit him like a rock then and there, and he froze, shyly disconnecting his frame from yours in a second. But the look on your face cleared at least half of his embarrassment and concerns, as he could see you were clearly all for this idea - you didn't mind at all.

"I mean.. I was passing by anyways, and thought I'd check.." he scratched the back of his head, blushing a little at your silent chuckle. He knew you didn't believe him in the least, yet he appreciated how you decided to play along, since it took the burdens off his shoulders, and simply let him have a good time, trying to hide up the fact he’d in fact ran back into that building half an hour later, panting lightly and making a few curious glances direct at him, none of those being the one he actually wanted to see.

"Now, since I'm pretty sure a fourth coincidence is quite unlikely to occur.. How about doing the thing about exchanging numbers?" he was still a little shy, yet your approving nod was enough for him to hand you his phone so you could type in the few digits that mattered the most to him back then - all of that happening before you agreed to disappear from the “festive wonderland” you’d gotten yourselves into, as apparently he was just as uncomfortable there as you were. Too much joy for your grumpy frames.

That's when it kicked off, and took on a rather fast approach, messing with your head all along the way. You'd never met someone who'd genuinely caught your eye this much, and since he had, it was a rather interesting experience. You met again for another coffee the next day, making the same barista throw you another interested look, and continued going out every other day you could. 

You found out he hated snow as much as you did, and even though quite some of your meetings were held indoors because of that issue of yours, you had to admit the weather outside was a little more bearable with him by your side. How the snowflakes tangled into his hair and made you want to ruffle it lightly, and how he never took gloves along, at some point making you shyly offer him to hold your hand for warmth purposes, which you did now always ever since the first time you’d offered and he’d done it without hesitation or doubt.

This was a friendship that evolved just in a few days and weeks, as you made sure to give it a good kick-start with long evening conversations over the phone or in a cafe, getting to know each other at an alarming rate. You simply felt so good beside him, and this happy atmosphere around you two made it a little special. To him as well.

Suddenly, you started slowly realizing what the whole holiday cheer was about. Realizing you'd always been more on the grumpy side simply because you were almost always alone, and slightly regretting your choice of taking up all those work assignments. Your favorite person had finally come along, and as you had someone to feel happy with but had no time, you felt a little jealous of the ones who did have tons of time. Hell, the extra work wouldn't even lead to all those promotions you were aiming for, so you decided to take it easy. It wouldn’t pay off, so you wouldn’t break your head over it. 

Every time you met he held you in his embrace a little tighter and a little longer. Texts turned out to be without stopping anywhere mid-day, becoming a constant thing that only died down while you were working or asleep. And as you started waking up to good morning texts, you started blushing every time it happened - he really acted rather like a boyfriend.

It took him only three bumps to get you to give him your number, and it took him only a little more than three weeks to make you give him something more.

In the timespan of three weeks, he had you completely head over heels fallen for him. Completely and utterly submerged in daydreams where his breath itched at your face as he told you how lucky he was to have such a coincidence happen to him during the time of year he disliked the most. How his hand caught your chin as you were about to turn away in embarrassment, and how instead he simply gave you one of his gorgeous smiles, softly pecking your lips and telling you he liked spending time with you so, so much.

As you dreamed about it, you couldn’t believe it would actually happen.

You had no clue it would happen when he picked you up that evening, smiling brightly and laughing a little as you playfully snuggled your face in the crook of his neck while giving him a welcoming hug. You were even more clueless about the further events while walking down the pretty, decorated streets. But you started getting aware at the end of the night, when everyone around seemed to be as happy as ever, but his smile shone a little brighter, indicating something you’d wanted to be true all along.

He was so damn attracted to you it physically hurt.

And it only showed more at the way his arm constantly wrapped around you while walking, his head constantly leaning in and whispering little things and nothings others shouldn’t know. Not because his words were special or anything - because it was a conversation meant to be held only between the two of you, and he wanted to keep it as personal as possible. It showed at the way you two shared all of the street food you’d gotten, and didn’t mind mixing up your beverages, just to be generous. It could be seen at how at ease and peaceful he felt as he watched all the different street performances and engaged into activities with you, simply being out of the house on Christmas eve with someone who’d came into his life more than simply recently, but someone who’d managed to dig out a place in his heart to fit themselves in, not even letting him oppose.

And as you turned to him at some point, having walked two steps in front of him as you tugged on his hand for him to come along prior to that, he felt like he wanted to let you know. So as he pulled your arm and made you chuckle, gently making your fame crash into his, he thought he’d risk it. Now or never.

“Himchan-ah, I-” instead of getting anything out properly, you felt his arms wrapping around your tightly, and you didn’t even have time to process before you felt his lips lightly covering yours.

It was a rather shy kiss - something that could maybe more appropriately be considered a peck, but you knew where his sudden shyness was coming from. If he was at least half as head over heels for you as you were for him, he had to feel anxious about this. Three weeks - was that enough to fall in love with someone? It had to be, or so he thought it felt like at least.

“I like you,” he told after another slow, soft peck of your lips, and patiently waited. His face stayed close, and his eyes remained shut as he let his lips curl into a smile and waited. Waited to hear the obvious.

“I-i.. I k-kinda like y-you too..”

And he didn’t need more or less - he simply let out a chuckle at your sudden anxiety, and mended it all with another brush against your lips - this one actually resembling a true kiss. He moved freely, and made you completely give in within seconds. His heart started beating a little faster as your hands reached for him, resting on his chest before one went to cup his face softly, and it got even faster as you kissed him back the way he wanted you to do it - showing exactly what all of this was about. Weirdly well-timed and strong-from-the-very-start attraction.

A lucky coincidence, and two people who had nothing to loose, yet a lot to gain if they tried it out. If they simply trusted the fact this could work, and could trust each other enough to let into the deepest corners of your hearts. Yes, that’s exactly who you were.

“It’s snowing, Himchan-ah,” you told him quietly afterwards, your faces still as close as ever and lazy smiles being thrown all over the place as you stared into each other’s eyes. He tried to concentrate on his surroundings, and found it to actually be true. Have you really been kissing for ages, or had it started snowing in a minute? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t even care all that much about it, or so he’d figured.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, of course it does!” you laughed, feeling him swinging your frames from side to side, “You hate snow, silly.”

Yet the look on his face showed he couldn’t possibly hate anything at that moment. He was completely filled up with affection - like a toy that was stuffed with it’s filling - and all his attention was directed at other things that resembled only good. He indeed felt snowflakes hitting the nape of his neck - his sensitive spot that he always complained about when snow fell on it - yet he didn’t have enough time to spare it even a single thought. In fact, it even felt pleasant.

“Who knows at this point? I feel like I could literally love everything right now, I’m all warm on the inside.”

You chuckled at his remark, yet understood clearly what he meant by that. You couldn’t help but admit it was inevitably the same to you.

Senses? Yeah, those had came back not too long ago, and same had happened with your interest to everything that was happening around. Tiredness became a second plan thing as you didn’t want to let it ruin your time with him, and same had happened to all the other negative emotions.

Unable to process? Not anymore.

And as you looked around a little, you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the world seemed, coated in a layer of plain white. It hid all the broken and unpleasant, and kept it warm, so it could blossom the next spring and set beauty and life into all the surroundings. It was the symbol of hope and all that will eventually follow. It was a big, thick blanket, wrapping up all the broken and frozen things and letting them stay there until they could be fixed up again.

And looking at him, you realized everything was maybe better than you originally thought it was. You weren’t completely senseless - in fact, you felt all of your senses tingling after he’d kissed you, even the ones you’d forgotten about. And maybe you hadn’t even been that frozen on the inside all along... Or no, you have. He was simply much better at this than any heater or fireplace, setting a spark in you, and filling you up completely with all the needed - a sense of peace, affection, but most of all - warmth that only his presence could offer. A fuzzy and homey feeling that remained only when he was around.

He kept you warm, just like the snow did to all of the sleeping nature.

“And you made me all warm on the inside as well, surprisingly. Thank you,” you looked up at him gratefully and hopefully, knowing he returned the favor.

Knowing he’d unintentionally fallen in love as well.