#like the ketchup incident

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Gods Below I Need To Sleep, I Just Read That The Peach Tea I've Been Drinking Is Good For Bone Health And I Muttered Out Loud "Ah That's Good I Need More Bones."

[egophiliac]

I love your take on Crowley!

I know that the early, non-Diasomnia stories aren't really your thing, but are you reading the novels at all?

I have been following some of the fan translations and the second book seems intense! Would love to hear what you think about them.

thank you! 💚💚💚 I'm not really sure why you think I don't like the earlier arcs though, I love pretty much all the characters and their storis! (I think 5 and 1 are my favorite of the past episodes, though 6 infected me with the Shroud brainrot something fierce.) I just...ESPECIALLY love diasomnia. :') but there is room in my heart for all of these dweebs! like, who among us is not just as ride-or-die for Adeuce as they are for us.

that said, I don't really follow the other adaptations like the manga (aside from a dip-in just to see the new Yuus) or the novels, though I keep meaning to check them out! I do like seeing the differences between the different forms of media, and how certain things get adapted one way or another! but alas, time/a lack of accessibility stands in our way more often than not. :( someday...someday I will have time to consume all of the media...

[kindahoping4forever]

Hi😊 I hope you're doing well and the show wasn't too hard on your health♥️ Would love to hear about your time at the forum if you'd like to tell😊

It's so nice of you to check in like this, thank you! 🥰 Honestly, just about every health issue I have decided to flare in the weeks leading up to the show, so I was fairly nervous going into it, but it all actually went really well! (Of course, my body essentially insisted I go into hibernation the entire week after the show but that was inevitable tbh 😅)

The night started off a little iffy when I was waiting for my brother by a concession stand and a passerby stepped on a stray ketchup packet and it exploded all over my legs and bags. 😃 But after a brief pity party and an emergency purchase of unnecessarily expensive bottled water (crazy long bathroom lines limited my options), I got myself cleaned up enough to appreciate the humor of literally getting sauced at The 5SOS Show. 😌 (Sadly, that particular shirt was already sold out or else I would've got it to commemorate lol)

But except for that unexpected moment, it was a fantastic evening! I won't go into details about the show so that I don't have to spoiler tag this post (🥲) but I had the most amazing time. Even though I've obviously been following the tour online, there's really nothing like experiencing it firsthand and I still found myself floored by certain moments.

I'm always happy to see 5SOS but I suppose because of the uncertainty I felt leading up to this particular show, I just remember feeling so, so grateful to be there. Overwhelming bursts of gratitude and joy to the point of tears a couple times, which is crazy because I am far from a soft girlie. It was just a really beautiful experience and I'm so thankful to have had it! 💙

[loveofmylouis]

.

[burgundywing]

Bats and their least favourite Rogues to deal with (other than Joker of course)

Bruce hates dealing with Two-Face, mostly because of knowing and valuing Harvey as a friend and he feels a sense of guilt that he wasn't able to save the man.

Damian does not enjoy fighting Poison Ivy as he actually agrees with many of her ideologies, and cannot always fully convince himself she's not going about it the right way. Ivy knows this and loves to use it against him. Damian is also not fond of her cuddle pollen as it allows his overbearing older brother to latch onto him like the limpet he is with a viable excuse.

Tim HATES Hatter. Losing control of your mind is basically Tim's worst nightmare. The Joker Junior incident only adds fuel to his mind control terrors. Whenever Hatter gets out the rest of the family has to keep an extra close eye on Tim who tends to give up sleeping in order to put Hatter back in Arkham.

Scarecrow is the least favourite of both Dick and Jason. Although every member of the batfam have their fair share of traumatic memories, Dick and Jason always find reliving theirs hardest to shake off. Any loud thumps after set both of them off, Dick thinking yet another person has hit the floor and Jason thinking it was yet another strike of the crowbar.

Stephanie is terrified of Professor Pyg. He is not as loud and demanding of attention as the rest of the Rogues so the others never consider him as the worst but there is something about him that makes her absolutely sick to her stomach. She's had one close encounter with him and never wants to see him again. If she's a little quick to let someone else take a case that may involve him that's nobody else's business but hers.

Cass is not a fan of Riddler. She is the least equipped to deal with his games as she cannot fully grasp the double meanings of many English words and Riddler has very confusing body language to read. Cass does not like feeling useless and Riddler is terrifying in his own right so being completely unequipped to stop him is not something she enjoys.

Duke hates Condiment King. And Kite Man. Such B-list villains but of course with his luck they always escape on the day shift. Mustard and ketchup are incredibly difficult to get out of the cracks in his armour and Kite Man is annoying and has an unfortunate habit of picking him up and DROPPING HIM. Duke's over it.

[wienners]

"dude its not that embarassing to rewatch some creepypasta stuff you liked as a teenager" the character i imprinted on like a baby duck at 16 was a demon from new jersey that acts like the humanization of every offspring song and canonically listens to scissor sisters. His favorite color is purple and his favorite pokemon are gengar and haunter. His favorite candy is reeses cups. He leaves people notes with emojis on them. He acts like a beetlejuice scare actor at halloween horror nights. His catchphrase is "feeling sassy?" Hes (allegedly) worked with every war criminal throughout history and been every serial killer. even the gay ones. He ate a baby. His animal motif is a rabbit. Hes kind of based off the donnie darko rabbit. He almost exclusively wears merchandise of the quentin tarantino movie death proof. He talks to his cats in a baby voice. He wears a white fedora that makes every video he wears it in feel dated by like 7 years. Hes 5'3. Sometimes he barks like a dog. Hes from new jersey. He hacked a girls tumblr blog so he could post about how awesome he is. He added a laugh track over a video of him killing people. He named a chainsaw rex. He torments people by playing frank sinatra at them. His name comes from an animal collective song. His creator drew his "true form" as a giant buff wolf bug anthro. Theres a (semi)canon blog entry where he makes the speakers blare rob zombie before he enters a room, then holds a guy at gunpoint to describe what he did to to him while "making sure to leave in all the cool parts". The guy hes possessing has radioactive blood. He tried for 2 whole minutes to pick up a bottle of ketchup with a grabby hand. Hes kind of suicidal.He can be reasonably compared to pretty much every major tumblr sexyman. His actor has gone on record saying heath ledgers joker inspired his acting choices. His creators were too attached to him to permanently kill him at the end of the series. Sometimes his voice gets distorted and it makes him sound like bill ciphers first year on HRT. Hes basically like my artistic muse. For some fucking reason i associate the song cake by the ocean with him. I firmly believe that if everymanhybrid didn't require a masters degree in creepypasta autism to comprehend, he would've caused more teenage stabbings than the slenderman incident and more kin war tumblr scenarios than nagito komaeda.

[mercillery]

Hi, I read your Frederick/Reader and absolutely fell in love with your writing style. Was kicking my feet type shi😭 If you’re willing to, could you write for Victor Grantz in the same format ? If you do my world genuinely will be complete.

Thanks and have a good one!

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: The way you worded your request was hilarious thank u so much and sorry this took super duper long…consider this my early Christmas gift to you. I hope this is the format you wanted 🥹❤️❤️❤️

Meeting Victor is like trying to pet a stray cat: approach too quickly, and he’s gone before you even say “hello.” He’s a master of the subtle retreat—one second there, the next, poof, like smoke in the wind. Victor’s shy, wary nature doesn’t just make him skittish; it’s practically an Olympic sport. He’s the reigning champion of Avoidance 101.

But don’t worry—if you come at him gently, with no sudden movements and a kind heart, he might cautiously peer out from behind the metaphorical couch. It’s a process though, so buckle up for the long haul. Winning Victor’s trust is less about grand gestures and more about the quiet, unspoken ones.

Want to impress him? Forget the flashy declarations of friendship and instead offer to help him feed the strays or—better yet—silently leave him a little note of encouragement. He’ll find it later, blush like a tomato, and spend three days overthinking how to say “thank you.”

Victor values people who respect his boundaries like they’re sacred artifacts in a museum—look, but don’t touch, unless invited. The tiniest, most understated acts of care leave the biggest impression on him.

Did you pick up a letter he dropped without making a big deal about it? Congratulations, you’re now a recurring character in the cinema of Victor’s mind. He’ll replay that scene like it’s Oscar-worthy, analyzing it frame by frame. “Were they just being kind, or did they pity me?” he’ll wonder at 3 a.m., sandwiched between anxiety and the hope that maybe—just maybe—you actually like him for who he is.

Spoiler alert: Victor is going to assume pity at first. That’s just his brand.

Victor’s idea of initiating a conversation is basically an international diplomatic incident. He’s not one to start talking, because, let’s be honest, that requires bravery, and he’s still working up to being brave enough to ask for extra ketchup at the fast food drive-thru. But once he trusts you and that’s a long journey involving more emotional hoops than the Olympics, he’ll let slip little nuggets of his inner world.

He’ll drop these tiny little gems about himself like it’s a treasure hunt, but you’ve got to be quick, because they’re easy to miss. One day, he might casually mention how a certain flower takes him back to his childhood—cue the mental image of him as a tiny, awkward version of himself, surrounded by daisies.

Another time, he might comment on how people’s faces light up when they get letters, like he’s some sort of professional mail therapist who knows the emotional impact of a good envelope. When Victor opens up, it’s like witnessing a rare bird in the wild—blink and you might miss it.

Victor is not one for blatant hints, because he’s too busy trying to avoid direct confrontation (his skill at this could be rivaled only by the world’s most skilled diplomats). So, no, he’ll never explicitly ask for your company, because that would require him to open his mouth and risk exposing his soft, squishy emotional side.

Instead, his actions do the talking—though they might need a bit of interpretation, so keep your detective hat on. Victor might subtly adjust his delivery route so it conveniently passes by places you frequent. It's almost as if he’s carefully plotting to get within a five-foot radius of you, and hey, who could blame him? Maybe he’s just really into the whole “unexpectedly running into people you know” thing.

Or, if he’s really feeling bold, he’ll linger a little longer when dropping off your mail, as if the mailbox suddenly has some profound existential meaning. If you happen to notice this and casually join him (because you are a good person who isn’t going to let Victor spiral into further awkwardness alone, right?), he’ll be overjoyed—but also extremely flustered, because admitting he wants you around would require him to admit he has feelings. And that, my friend, is a level of vulnerability he’s not quite ready for. But don’t worry, his heart’s doing the cha-cha on the inside.

Victor is a masterclass in the actions speak louder than words school of love. He’s not going to serenade you with declarations of affection or wax poetic about how your eyes sparkle like the morning dew—because, frankly, just thinking about that would make him combust.

Instead, he shows he cares in his own quiet, sneaky way. Mention your favorite tea once, and guess what? He’ll remember it for eternity. He’s got a mental file labeled Your Preferences: Highly Classified that’s better organized than the national archives.

You’ll casually say, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to read this one book,” and BAM—next thing you know, it’s magically in your mailbox with a little note that just says, “Thought you might like this.” And if there’s a stray cat you always stop to pet, Victor will casually start carrying an extra biscuit in his satchel for it.

Let’s be honest, though—if you look hungry enough, that biscuit might end up being for you. It’s basically his love language: tea, books, and snacks.

If you want to make his day, just sit next to him quietly and do something peaceful together. He’s like a houseplant—happy just existing in the same space as you, soaking up the shared sunlight.

Whether you’re tending a garden, reading side-by-side, or helping stray animals, those moments make him feel like he’s starring in his own low-budget indie movie (the kind with no dialogue but lots of meaningful glances).

There’s no pressure to talk, and that’s exactly how he likes it. If he had his way, his life would just be a montage of cozy, quiet activities with you, set to the soft plink of piano music.

Of course, Victor’s social anxiety has a habit of pulling pranks on both him and everyone else. One minute, he’s enjoying your company; the next, he’s retreating like a vampire caught in the sunlight. No explanation, no warning—just poof, gone. It’s not you, it’s him—and his brain, which likes to play a cruel game called Let’s Overthink This Until We Die.

If he avoids eye contact or looks like he’s considering tunneling through the nearest wall to escape, it’s not because you’ve done anything wrong. He’s probably just overwhelmed and desperately trying to remember how humans are supposed to behave. Give him some space, and he’ll come back once he’s convinced himself you don’t secretly think he’s the most awkward person alive.

Spoiler: he totally thinks you think that anyway.

Victor wrestles with an Olympic-level sense of unworthiness, like his brain has its own personal commentator constantly reminding him, “And here we have Victor, doubting his ability to be loved again—10 points for consistency!”

He struggles to believe that anyone could genuinely care for someone like him, especially given his arsenal of awkwardness and insecurities. Seriously, if self-deprecation were a sport, he’d have a gold medal and a sponsorship deal.

But here’s the thing: if you’re patient and reassuring, he’ll eventually start peeling back the layers of his fears. He might quietly admit to his scopophobia (fear of being stared at), his doubts about whether he’s even capable of forming meaningful relationships, or—prepare yourself for heartbreak—his lingering sadness over never receiving a letter addressed just to him. (Excuse me while I cry forever.)

When this happens, please, for the love of all that is good, don’t panic and start shouting affirmations at him like you’re his personal life coach. Victor thrives on calm, gentle reassurance, not pressure or raised voices. Your steady, quiet presence is like emotional chamomile tea to his frazzled soul.

Despite all his self-doubt, Victor is ridiculously perceptive about your emotions, even if he doesn’t always know what to do about them. He’s the kind of guy who notices you’re upset before you even realize it yourself.

Did you sigh a little too heavily or stare off into space for three seconds longer than usual? Victor clocked it. And while he might not be the type to launch into a grand speech about feelings, he’ll wordlessly show his care in his own way.

Maybe he’ll leave a single flower on your desk—no note, no explanation, just there, like a little whisper of “I see you.” Or, if he’s feeling extra sneaky, he might nudge Wick in your direction, because let’s be real: nothing cheers a person up like an adorable animal who’s clearly been coerced into playing emotional support.

One thing Victor absolutely loves is writing letters. And by love, I mean obsesses over to an absurd degree. His letters to you are the perfect blend of poetic and adorably clumsy, like he’s trying to pour his heart out but keeps tripping over the words.

One moment, you’ll be reading something surprisingly profound about how much he values your presence, and the next, you’ll find a sentence where he’s clearly panicked mid-thought and gone with something hilariously awkward. (“Your eyes remind me of… uh… really nice things!”)

But what makes these letters so special is how deeply personal they are.

They’re filled with gratitude for the quiet joy you bring into his life, written in a way that’s so uniquely him you can practically hear him fumbling through each line. Honestly, if love languages were mail-based, Victor would be your number-one postman.

Crowds and Victor go together about as well as oil and water—or Victor and social confidence. But if you casually mention liking something, prepare yourself, because this man will brave the seventh circle of hell (the local market) to get it for you.

Picture it: Victor, sweating bullets, weaving through bustling streets like a man on a mission, clutching his satchel like it’s a lifeline. He’ll return flustered but victorious, the prized item wrapped so carefully you’d think it was made of glass.

His face will be a mix of relief and pride, as if he’s just slain a dragon. (To be fair, for Victor, that is the equivalent.) Don’t be surprised if he brushes off your thanks with an awkward, “Oh, it was nothing,” while secretly hoping you’re impressed by his bravery. Spoiler alert: you should be.

Wick, Victor’s trusty dog, isn’t just a pet—he’s practically a third wheel in your relationship. And, honestly? It’s adorable.

Victor sees Wick as an extension of himself, so when Wick curls up in your lap or adorably gnaws at your shoelaces, that’s basically Victor saying, “I trust you with my soul, but, you know, through the dog.”

The moment you start caring for Wick—feeding him, petting him, or playing fetch—Victor’s heart practically bursts into a thousand sparkly pieces. Watching you with Wick is like watching someone hold a tiny, fluffy version of his heart in their hands. Wick’s antics aren’t just cute; they’re a whole bonding experience.

Honestly, at this point, the three of you are a family. Wick’s the child, Victor’s the awkwardly doting dad, and you’re the incredibly patient parent trying to keep them both in line.

Arguments with Victor are about as common as a solar eclipse: rare, slightly uncomfortable, and leaving everyone a bit disoriented afterward. Confrontation isn’t in his wheelhouse—if there’s tension, his first instinct is to retreat like a turtle into its shell.

If he’s hurt, he won’t blow up or yell; instead, he’ll quietly pull away, letting his mind run a marathon of overthinking. By the time you’ve moved on, he’s still replaying the argument on loop like a bad soap opera. But here’s the thing: Victor is ridiculously introspective.

Once he’s processed his emotions a process that may or may not involve pacing, Wick cuddles, and at least one existential crisis, he’ll write you a letter. And not just any letter—a heartfelt, soul-baring essay on what went wrong, why he feels the way he does, and how much he still values you.

Victor’s ultimate dream isn’t flashy—it’s not a yacht, a mansion, or a five-star lifestyle. No, in Victor’s perfect world, it’s just the two of you, Wick happily trotting at your heels, living your best life of ultimate domesticity.

No loud parties, no awkward small talk, just a quiet house with a cozy garden and maybe a suspiciously large collection of rocks Victor has insisted are “artistic.” The joy of daily routines—making tea, feeding stray animals, and Victor nervously handing you love letters he’s rewritten five times—is his idea of pure bliss. If this man ever proposes, it’s going to involve Wick wearing a bowtie and an “I woof you” sign, so brace yourself for maximum wholesome chaos.

One day, Victor might finally muster the courage to show you his favorite quiet spots. Each one has a backstory that’s equal parts sweet and painfully awkward.

There’s the meadow where he feeds stray animals because, of course, he’s secretly the neighborhood Dr. Dolittle. There’s the stream where he collects smooth stones, claiming they “help him think,” even though he’s just really bad at skipping rocks. And then there’s the old tree. Beneath its branches is a hollow stuffed with letters Victor was too shy to deliver as a teenager.

You’ll probably find one addressed to “That Kind Lady at the Bakery Who Smiled Once,” because he’s been like this forever. And if you’re really lucky, he’ll read one out loud, stammering through every word.

Over time, you become more than just his partner—you’re his anchor, his emotional life raft, and occasionally his human shield in crowds. While Victor still breaks into a cold sweat at the thought of socializing (his personal Mount Everest), your presence helps him step outside his comfort zone.

Maybe he’ll start saying “hello” to strangers instead of just nodding and looking at his feet, or—dare we dream—he’ll manage a full conversation without overanalyzing it later.

Knowing you’ll always have his back gives him the courage to face the terrifying world of small talk and eye contact. And when he’s feeling especially brave, he might even join you in a crowd without Wick acting as his emotional chaperone. Just don’t expect miracles—Victor’s still Victor, after all. But you love him either way, shy or not <3

CHRISTMAS BONUS

Yes, it’s his birthday, but it’s also Christmas, and let’s just say the holiday tends to hog the spotlight like a diva at center stage. While everyone’s busy decking the halls and roasting chestnuts, Victor’s birthday barely gets a whisper. Imagine being handed a gift as a kid and hearing, “This counts for Christmas and your birthday!”—traumatizing, honestly.

As an adult, he’s resigned himself to the overshadowed celebrations, but deep down, it still stings a little. But that’s where you come in.

If you acknowledge his birthday with a small, heartfelt gesture—a handwritten card, a bouquet of winter flowers, or even a slightly burnt homemade cookie—he’ll be so touched he might need to sit down. (Emotionally overwhelmed Victor is a sight to behold—think deer in headlights but with more blushing.)

On Christmas morning, Victor isn’t inside unwrapping presents or sipping cocoa by the fire like a normal person. Nope, he’s outside in the frosty dawn, feeding the stray animals, because of course he is.

When you join him, he won’t make a big deal about it, but his face will light up like a Christmas tree—albeit a very understated one. Without a word, he’ll pull out an extra scarf from his satchel and gently wrap it around your neck. If you thank him, he’ll just mumble something about it being cold, all while his ears turn red.

Wick, meanwhile, will be living his best life, barking like a lunatic and spinning around your feet in an uncoordinated display of canine excitement. Between the wagging tail, Victor’s shy smiles, and the soft crunch of snow underfoot, it’ll feel less like a Hallmark movie and more like a quiet, perfect slice of real life—the kind of moment Victor secretly dreams about but never dares to ask for.

Victor’s favorite part of the holidays isn’t the gifts he receives—it’s watching other people open theirs. Specifically, your gift. While you’re tearing into the wrapping paper, Victor is sitting there, looking like a bundle of nerves wrapped in a sweater, his amber eyes fixed on you with a mix of hope and terror.

His present is always something he’s put way too much thought into: a delicate trinket he made himself, like a pressed flower bookmark or a small wooden carving of you and Wick that probably took him hours. He’ll fidget like crazy as you look at it, practically sweating bullets, and then stammer out something like, “I-I wasn’t sure if you’d like it, but I thought, uh... maybe…”

Here’s the thing: you’d better say you love it. Not just “like it,” but full-on, scream-with-joy love it. Why? Because poor Victor will have spent approximately 400 sleepless nights agonizing over that gift. When you smile and tell him it’s perfect, he’ll just about melt into the couch with relief.

Externally, he’ll nod and mumble, “I’m glad,” like it’s no big deal, but internally, he’s bursting into a fireworks display so sparkly it could rival New Year’s Eve. Wick might sense the mood too and start barking happily, adding to the chaos.

In the evening, as the holiday buzz winds down, you and Victor find yourselves by the fire, sharing a quiet, intimate moment. He’s wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, and his hands are cradling a mug of tea that he’s barely touched because he’s too busy working up the courage to speak.

Finally, he starts recounting a few childhood Christmases. His voice is soft and hesitant, like he’s afraid the words might shatter if he says them too loudly. The stories themselves are simple—a handmade toy from a neighbor, the first time he saw snow—but his eyes glow with such quiet contentment that you can practically see the warmth of those memories written all over his face.

When the fire burns low, the two of you head out for a walk. Snow is falling in soft, lazy flakes, the kind that makes the world feel like it’s holding its breath. Wick, of course, is living it up, bounding ahead and occasionally stopping to sniff a suspicious patch of snow before darting off again.

Meanwhile, Victor stays close to you, his gloved hand brushing yours but never quite daring to hold it unless you make the first move. For once, he doesn’t feel the usual anxiety about being seen. The world could be watching, but with you beside him, it doesn’t matter. He feels safe, as though the snow-covered streets and the warmth of your presence are enough to shield him from everything else.

And if Wick comes barreling back mid-walk, absolutely covered in snow and looking absurdly pleased with himself, Victor might let out the softest laugh you’ve ever heard. It’s rare, like spotting a shooting star, and it fills the quiet evening air with a joy so pure you can’t help but smile.

[dovesdreaming]

The Ketchup Conundrum

Summary: Deadpool and you have been together for a few months, and everything's been perfect-well, as perfect as it can be when you're dating someone like Deadpool. But today, the two of you face your first real fight... over the silliest thing imaginable.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

The sun was shining through the windows of your shared apartment, casting a warm glow over the cozy living room. You and Wade, aka Deadpool, had just finished a peaceful breakfast, and everything seemed perfect. The two of you were a new couple, but it already felt like you'd known each other forever. You were basking in that honeymoon-phase bliss, where even his weird quirks, like wearing his mask at the most random times, were endearing. But then it happened. The incident that would go down in history as The Ketchup Conundrum.

You were making sandwiches for lunch when you noticed the ketchup bottle was nearly empty. You grabbed it and did the natural thing, gave it a firm squeeze to get the last of the ketchup out. Wade was sitting at the kitchen island, flipping through a magazine with one hand, the other clutching a half-eaten chimichanga. As soon as he heard the telltale squelch of the ketchup bottle, he looked up, eyes narrowing beneath his mask. “Did you just... squeeze the bottle from the middle?" he asked, voice dripping with disbelief. You froze, ketchup bottle in hand. "Yeah, why?".

His magazine hit the counter with a dramatic thud. "Because! You’re supposed to squeeze from the bottom! Everyone knows that! Now it’s all uneven and weird!". You blinked, trying to wrap your head around the fact that your first real fight was apparently going to be about ketchup. "Wade, it’s not a big deal. I can just push the rest down, see?" You started to smooth the ketchup down with your fingers, trying to fix the situation. But Wade was already worked up, standing now with his arms crossed over his chest. "No, no, no. It’s not just about the ketchup, it’s about principles! You start squeezing from the middle, and next thing you know, you’re putting pineapple on pizza! Or-“He gasped dramatically, "folding the toilet paper the wrong way!". You stared at him, a mix of confusion and irritation bubbling up. "Wade, it’s just ketchup! It’s not like I-“. He interrupted with a raised hand, "I thought I knew you. I thought we had something special. But now… I don’t know what to think!".

The argument escalated quickly. You both started throwing petty jabs, the playful tone gone as the ridiculousness of the situation was lost in the heat of the moment. “I can’t believe you’re this upset over ketchup!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “And I can’t believe you’re so nonchalant about it!” he shot back, his voice muffled as he grabbed his mask and yanked it back over his head in a huff, as if that would shield him from the sheer absurdity of the situation.

It wasn’t long before you both stormed off to different rooms, the door to the bedroom slamming behind you as Wade retreated to the living room, muttering something about “ketchup heretics”. You sat on the bed, fuming. Of all the things to fight about, this was by far the dumbest. You grabbed a pillow and hugged it to your chest, glaring at the wall as if it was the one to blame. But as the minutes ticked by, the anger began to fade, replaced by a gnawing feeling in your stomach. You missed him already. The apartment felt too quiet without his constant chatter, without the sound of him flicking through channels on the TV. And that’s when it hit you. “I need to tell him I’m sorry” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Meanwhile, Wade was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV but not really watching it. He had flipped to a random infomercial, and the overly enthusiastic salesman was shouting about some kind of miracle cleaner. Wade didn’t hear a word of it. His mind was stuck on you, on the stupid fight, on how empty the apartment felt without you in the same room. “I need to tell them I’m sorry” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for himself to hear.

Both of you, in separate rooms, stood up at the same time. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if maybe you should wait, give him a bit more time to cool off. But then you shook your head, steeling yourself. No, this was too silly to drag out. You needed to fix this, now. You opened the door just as Wade was walking toward it. You both froze, standing awkwardly in the hallway, staring at each other. “Uh…” Wade scratched the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically shy. “Hi”. “Hi” you replied, suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous.

“I was just…” He gestured vaguely behind him, “coming to say sorry”. “Me too,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry, Wade. I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of something so small”.

He shrugged, looking down at his feet. “I overreacted. It’s just… I don’t know. I get all weird about dumb stuff sometimes. But it doesn’t matter, because you matter. More than ketchup. Way more”. You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Really?”. “Really” he said, finally looking up at you. He reached out, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry, babe. Let’s never fight again, okay? I hate it”. You hugged him back tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of him. Leather, chimichangas, and something distinctly Wade. “Agreed. No more fights. Especially not about ketchup”.

You both stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the relief of reconciliation washing over you both. Then Wade pulled back slightly, looking at you with a mischievous grin. “So… wanna make up for lost time and be super cuddly for the rest of the day?” You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your chest. “Only if you promise not to judge my ketchup squeezing technique ever again”.

Wade held up his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. Now, how about we cuddle on the couch and watch terrible rom-coms?”. You smiled, feeling nothing but love for the ridiculous man in front of you. “That sounds perfect”. And so, the two of you spent the rest of the day glued to each other, making up for the lost time, the earlier fight forgotten as you basked in the comfort of each other's presence. Because in the end, it didn’t matter if you squeezed the ketchup bottle from the middle or the bottom. What mattered was that you had each other, and nothing, not even ketchup, was going to change that.

-

Thank you for reading!!

[teambyler]

Will said he's "not gonna fall in love" EXACTLY when he does something referring to Mike:

I'm late to Byler (just watched s4 a month ago and found y'all after), and I'm guessing some caught that Will opened a bottle of syrup in front of his plate which has eggs, and Mike definitely liked syrup on his eggs in s1.

But has anyone pointed out the IRONY of Will saying "I'm not gonna fall in love" EXACTLY when he gets the syrup? The creators must have known eagle-eyed viewers would remember s1 Mike grossing out his sister with this.

So Will said "I'm not gonna fall in love," while we're all reminded of someone he's already in love with. But not only that: syrup on eggs is an unusual preference he seems to share with the boy he loves. Which symbolically suggests they're meant for each other.

(Yes, I know Will has pancakes there, but we all know you put ketchup on eggs lol. And he starts eating with just the syrup!)

The creators SO wanted him to say this line while unscrewing the cap that they made a continuity error. In the IMMEDIATE previous shot, Will had already unscrewed the cap:

So the timing was deliberate.

And we all remember the very gay-coded Mike Tries Fruit on Pizza Incident. To which I'll point out:

Syrup on eggs = Fruit on pizza

Syrup and fruit both add sweetness to an otherwise starchy food. Just like being queer, some people instantly find the IDEA of it repulsive (Mike's sister called the syrup "disgusting"). But others find it delicious!

And it's canon that Mike has always liked sugar on his starch ;)

Mike didn't want to try fruit on pizza. "Fruit" is historically a derogatory word for gay men. He called fruit on pizza "blasphemous." His friends had to coax him to try sugar on his starch, which he always liked.

Afterward, Mike says off-camera that he liked his fruity pizza (screencap with subtitle):

Oh, Mike, you just had to try it! And what's the harm in telling Will you like him? He just might like sugar on his starch as well!

"Try before you deny" indeed!

-teambyler

[collecting-stories]

Blueberry BBQ - Carmen Berzatto

Request: no.

Summary: reader works at The Bear balancing their books and has a major crush on Carmy but they never talk aside from business. A dinner party brings them closer together.

A/N: Just some nonsensical drabble cause I love Carmy.

The Bear Masterlist

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

“Are you making that bbq sauce for the burgers this time?” Marcus asked, turning away from his chocolate cake for a split second to look at you.  

Mikey had hired you a week before he died to help balance the books at the Beef. After he was gone Richie stuck you on the counter, waiting on customers like you didn’t have a bachelors in finance, and telling you not to go in the back office. Now that Carmy was around, and attempting to make the Beef float, you were back were you belonged, in the office and away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.  

You were no chef…you’d hesitate to even really call yourself a proper cook…but you knew what you liked and you knew how to make it taste good. “I don’t know…last time Angel complained.”  

“That’s because Angel puts ketchup on everything like a five year old,” Tina called from her station, the distinct chop of onions echoing after her comment.  

“What are you making?” Syd asked, adding a quick, “behind” as she passed Tina to grab a pot.  

“It’s Sunday night dinner,” Marcus replied, ignoring the headshake Tina gave him. No real offence to Sydney but you knew she’d tell Carmy and whether or not he actually would come, you kind of didn’t want the pressure of thinking he might show up. Even with your job at The Beef you were far from understanding the “food world” but you’d tried Carmy’s cooking a few times and it was leagues better than anything you attempted on a good day. There was no way you wanted him even thinking you set foot in a kitchen, let alone trying something you made.  

“Sunday night dinner?” Syd echoed.  

And then the cursed, “what’s Sunday night dinner?” Carmy’s voice. He’d come in from a smoke break and you took three large steps back to the office, as if you hadn’t set foot in the kitchen to begin with. Marcus looked at his boss and then at you (wide eyed and trying not to visibly shake your head at him) and then back to Carmy.  

“It’s uh,”  

“Nothing.” Tina cut in. “It’s nothing. Get back to work eh, Jeff?”  

“Yeah,” Carmy looked like he wanted to say something else but instead just nodded, blue eyes a little glazed, “yeah.”  

In the comfort of the office, you get back to work on payroll for the week, slipping your airpods in to drown out the sounds of the kitchen. Just over the softer lull of Evermore you could hear Carmy yell at Richie, his brother’s best friend shouting right back. It wasn’t always (or ever) the best environment for working but you liked it. You liked it when Mike was working there and you somehow managed to like it a little more now that Carmy was running the show, though that could just be that you liked Carmy. Outside of work, you didn’t have too many conversations but he was pretty to look at and you liked the brief interactions the two of you had, even if it was just asking about accounts and other boring stuff he didn’t have the patience for on his own.  

The whole incident (that might be an over exaggeration of the event though you’d honestly be tempted to call it a debacle and it probably wasn’t that either) had been mostly forgotten by the time the dinner rush was rolling around and you were clocking out. More than thrilled to both be home before dark and to continue your mostly Carmy-free shift. He was so busy out in the kitchen and fighting with Richie that you hadn’t seen him. Though by now you were positive he had forgotten the mention of Sunday night dinner.  

You waved to Syd, promised to text Marcus, and slipped out the back door into the alley. If you went out the front Richie would stop you and then you’d be listening to his bullshit for another hour (at least).  

“Sneaking out?” Carmy’s tone was teasing and you spun around to find him sitting on a milk crate, smoking what was probably his sixth or seventh cigarette of the day.  

“Didn’t wanna hear about Richie’s date,” you shrugged, the strap of your backpack digging at your collar momentarily when your shoulder went up and then dropped back into place.  

“It was a bust.” 

You nodded, “kinda feel bad for him,” you mused. You didn’t hate Richie, in fact you found him kind of funny. Even when he’d kicked you out of the office and relegated you to the counter you’d liked him too much to complain.  

“You wanna date him?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as if he was issuing some kind of challenge.  

“Oh, I don’t feel that bad.” You laughed.  

Carmy smiled and you were ready to say goodnight when he opened his mouth again. Maybe you should have gone the front way. “So what’s this Sunday night dinner?”  

You shook your head as if the whole ordeal wasn’t that major to begin with. Maybe if it sounded lame, if you sounded like you weren’t that bothered with it, Carmy wouldn’t want to go. Not that you thought he wanted to spend his time off the clock hanging out with you. “Oh it’s nothing, I’m just…making dinner for like, Marcus and Tina and everybody.” 

He frowned. An actual, eyebrows scrunched, hooded eyes drooped, frown. “You cook?”  

“Not, no, not like…I mean…it’s probably cardboard compared to you.” You laugh, “not that I’m, ya know…comparing myself to you or anything.” You replied, stumbling slightly over your words.  

“Must be pretty good…everybody’s going.”  

“Well, anyone’s invited…I mean, if you wanted to come you could. I think Marcus is bringing some dessert and Tina and Ebraheim usually bring something too.” You shrugged again, an impulsive movement as you tried to make yourself sound cool and collected. It was just Carmy…the guy looked like he was homeless, he shouldn’t be as intimidating as he was.  

“What are you making?”  

“It’s just burgers.” You replied, downplaying the fact that you’d specifically overpaid for waygu beef because Marcus claimed it tasted better. Who were you to know. 

“I’ll bring something.” The offer sounded more like a sure statement. Not only would he be there but he would bring something.  

“Okay…” you trailed off, “well, see you tomorrow.” 

You were pretty sure you’d never left The Beef so quickly in your entire life. Sunday was supposed to be a relaxing day off and an attempt to actually be somewhat sociable because god knows quarantine was rough, even with a steady job.  

But now Sunday was just anxiety bubbling in your stomach while you made the plum bbq glaze that Marcus liked so much. You’d imagined nothing more than calling up your mom to complain about how often you put your foot in your mouth but as you reached for the telephone you realized the only one around to listen to you talk about this weird crush you had on Carmy was your cat. The monster in question was a long haired black cat that the lady on the top floor had adopted before covid. She’d named him Rigoletto after the Italian opera and then decided she didn’t want him anymore.  

“That place down the street is hiring…although I’m not so sure I wanna work at an H&R Block.” You mused, scratching under Rigoletto’s chin before leaving him on the arm of the couch to finish the bbq sauce. “And I do really like the Beef…but what if Carmy hates this? And he fires me or something…is that crazy?”  

The cat didn’t have the chance to answer because the buzzer by your door went off. It was a little too early for anybody who usually showed up to arrive though you suspected it could be Syd (she’d been invited now too, along with Richie who had to decline because it was his Sunday with his daughter).  

You hit the button to unlock the front door without confirming who was there. Not a great habit but you were technically expecting someone and you tended to get a little lax with security every now and then. You propped the door to your apartment so that whoever you’d buzzed (Syd surely, maybe Ebraheim) would be able to just come right in.  

But as luck would have it, it wasn’t Syd that came through the door to your apartment. It was Carmen, holding two foil trays cause he promised he’d bring something (and okay, sure, maybe he over did himself for just a hang out in your apartment but so sue him if he wasn’t trying to impress you).  

“Hey uh…your cat looks like it’s gonna climb me.” He half greeted, half warned, staring down at the cat that had jumped off the couch and come over to greet him. Yellow eyes stared up at his blue ones, back hunched like it was ready to pounce and Carmy briefly imagined the cat jumping right into the trays in his hands.  

Before any worst case scenarios could happen you scooped the cat up in your arms, apologizing and telling Carmy he could lay the trays on the small island in your kitchen. “He’s super friendly,” you promised though you left him in your room and closed the door, “he’s a big fan of Chester.” 

“Marcus’ roommate?” Carmy almost laughed.  

“Yeah he uh, what are you doing?” You speedwalked the short distance back to the kitchen when you realized that Carmy had moved over to inspect the sauce you were making, spooning a tiny bit out and taking a bite.  

“It’s good, maybe a little maple syrup?” He offered, as if this was The Beef’s test kitchen. Without waiting for your okay he went to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of maple syrup. You wondered briefly if he had some sort of psychic sense that let him know you had maple syrup on hand or if Carmy just expected all the ingredients he needed to be right where he needed them at all times. “What’s this?”  

“It’s salad dressing,” you supplied, shifting awkwardly as he shook the bottle of salad dressing he’d plucked off the shelf. 

You watched him pop the lid and stick a clean butter knife in the jar, pulling it out and taste testing the dressing. This was objectively worse than you imagined inviting Carmy to your house would be. “Shit, that’s fire.”  

You could feel your face heat up at the compliment, though that was immediately out of your mind as Carmy continued his inspection of your fridge. When he started eyeing a tupperware of soup from last night, you reached over and closed the door on him, “okay; let’s be finished going through my fridge?”  

“Sorry,” he held his hands up in surrender, the bottle of dressing still in one hand. “I didn’t know you cooked.” It was the same thing he’d said to you earlier though it didn’t hold the same genuine surprise as it had earlier. Instead, he looked almost contemplative, as if finding something out about you that he hadn’t known before meant something you weren’t aware of.  

“Nothing serious,” you promised, going back to check on the burgers and looking back at Carmy, “would you…check these. I know it sounds dumb but, cooking meat gives me anxiety.”  

“It gives you anxiety?” He said it like he was trying not to laugh, a smile threatening his features as he set the dressing back in the fridge and came over to stand a little too close to you.  

“If you don’t cook it enough you could kill someone and if you cook it too much it’s gross,” you replied, glancing half over your shoulder at him as he leaned in to check the state of the burgers.  

“Alright…if you let me try the soup.”  

You caved, “fine.” Passing the wooden spatula and stepping to the side. “If Marcus asks, I totally cooked them myself.”  

Carmy nodded, grinning, “yeah alright.”  

Cooking with him, without the imminent pressure of a working kitchen, was more fun than you imagined it would be. When you’d wandered into the kitchen area of the Beef back when Mike was still around, he was always joking and talking shit with Richie. Carmy didn’t necessarily run a tighter ship but he was more serious about food and cooking and there was less time for bullshitting. You assumed the quiet intensity was how he always was but you realized that was an unfair judgement. He was relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen him be, that confidence in his food coming through with quiet remarks about this meal or that, shitty food he’d eaten while he was working in New York and stories about the CIA.  

- 

By the time everyone had finished eating and gone home, leaving you with a mess of plates and cutlery, you were a little tipsy but genuinely happy. It hadn’t been as stressful as you were making it out to be in your mind and Carmy relaxed on a Sunday night was completely different from Carmy in the kitchen at work.  

“You have a system or?” His voice broke your train of thought as you wiped the last crumbs off the table and realized that he was standing at your sink, kitchen towel over his shoulder.  

“You don’t have to help me clean up,” you tossed the crumbs and came over to the sink, “I mean you fixed the burgers.”  

“I didn’t ‘fix’ them,” he almost looked like he was gonna laugh. “I just helped them along.”  

“Well either way, you shouldn’t have to clean up too.”  

“I don’t mind.” He promised, “now, you got a system?”  

“Not really,” you shook your head, “but I don’t have a dishwasher so everything’s by hand.”  

“I got time.” Carmy promised and you couldn’t help feeling like your heart was going to thud right out of your chest, “besides you promised me some of that soup.”  

“You just ate like a whole meal Carm, you’re not seriously gonna have soup at midnight are you?” You asked though honestly you didn’t think you would be surprised if the answer was that yes, he would have soup at midnight.  

“Yeah if it’s good,” he joked.  

You shook your head, not answering and instead focusing your attention on drying dishes too large to fit in the rack beside your sink. The frying pan went back on the stove with the pot beside it. While Carmy finished the very last of the dishes you let Rigoletto out of your bedroom, the cat stretching languidly as he appraised the room.  

“My mom had a cat once,” he mentioned, eyeing Rigoletto as he approached the kitchen area, “ended up giving it to the neighbor cause it jumped on the counters all the time. Nothing like cat hair in your chicken picante.”  

“Rigoletto’s too fat to make it to the counter.” You replied, “if he did I’d be too impressed to be upset with him.”  

“What are you doing?” Carmy watched you curiously as you got a bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed a bag of granola.  

“Homemade granola,” you shook the bag, “it’s for the top of the soup.” When he didn’t say anything you added, “just trust me.” 

“It’s your recipe.”  

“I feel like that wasn’t as confident sounding as I wanted it to be,” you laughed, passing the heated up bowl across the counter to him, granola sprinkled over the top, “it’s apple and brie soup.”  

“Apple?” 

“Okay, like you’ve made some weird fucking shit before Carm. Don’t act like this is the craziest thing you’ve ever heard of.”  

He raised his hands in surrender, spoon teetering between his fingers briefly before he was leaning forward to take a bite. “To be fair, I rarely see you even near the kitchen at work.”  

“Well I’m not as good as anyone there, I just like trying different stuff on my own time.”  

“This is really good,” he mentioned, taking another spoonful, “you have a recipe?” 

“Yeah, I have a notebook somewhere.” You weren’t a hundred percent sure where you’d placed your notebook though you knew it was floating around somewhere in the apartment.  

“Show me?” He asked, then, “not right now…just whenever.” The request was vague and you knew that ultimately you could just take it to mean showing him the actual handwritten recipe that you used to make the soup that he was almost finished eating but it could also mean actually cooking with him. Something that, 24 hours ago would have definitely scared the shit out of you. Cooking with someone like Carmy? That was out of the question.  

“When do you ever have free time?” You kept the question light, a joke more than an observation of his life, “I was surprised you came tonight.”  

“I thought about not coming,” he shrugged, “figured if you wanted me to you woulda asked yourself but…” the sentence teetered off and you took a few seconds silence to really weigh how your relationship with Carmen looked from his end.  

“Sorry, it’s not that you aren’t invited or anything…just that you’re kinda intimidating and if you were coming over than I’d wanna impress you and if I didn’t at least make edible food I’d be embarrassed.”  

“It could use a little fine-tuning but it’s not bad by any stretch.”  

“Okay,” you almost laughed at the bluntness of his statement. Ask him anything else and he clammed up but ask him about food and he was direct.  

“Sorry I-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you shook your head quickly, wanting him to understand that you weren’t at all bothered by the comment. Maybe if you were in an actual professional in a kitchen...you’d heard him and Syd go at it before over a dish and you knew that Carmy could be mean when he was in ‘kitchen-mode’. “I mean, aside from you, the only people who eat what I cook are like...my parents. And what are they gonna say?” 

Carmy didn’t say anything, taking the empty bowl and placing it in the sink. He looked like he wanted to say more but instead he reached for his coat, “thanks for letting me invite myself.”  

“Hey, anytime you wanna come over...” You admitted. Tonight hadn’t been as scary as you thought it was and, in all honesty, you kind of liked having Carmy here. Getting to see him more relaxed was nice and cooking with him was somehow better. “Besides, I promised to show you the soup.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. Trying to fix the Beef, pay off Jimmy, and generally just exist didn’t leave a whole lot of free time but he didn’t think he would mind making some just so he could stand around in your kitchen with you again. It felt almost the way he used to feel when Mike was still alive and everything still had a layer of candy-coating on it. That sort of simple, ‘if I don’t leave this moment nothing can go wrong’ feeling that tightened his chest and made him feel warm.  

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” You phrased it like a question but it was a fact.  

“Tomorrow.” He agreed.  The possibility of it already making him eager for the morning.

[drop-dead-dino]

⭐️ Finally done, wooooh!!! ⭐️

Throwing my existing FNAF sona into @wyervan ‘s Slasher AU!

Just in case the font is hard to read, I’ll put their info here too!:

Rylee, Final Girl Sona for DCA Slasher AU!

27 | Any Pronouns | Genderfluid, Biromantic Demisexual

Info:

-5’2

-Struggles with anxiety and chronic GI pain.

-Often rambles when nervous or excited, talks a lot with hands.

-Horror movie and popcorn enjoyer.

-Skateboard is her only mode of transportation, can’t drive.

-Works at the theater across the street from the Arcade, their boss is a dick.

-Visits the arcade to play the games when on break.

-Becomes friendly with the two weirdos who own the place.

-Is after a unique red gator plush stuck in a claw machine that is near impossible to win.

(Moon purposefully jams it in difficult to reach spots just to mess with her.)

Extra info and whatnot that’s been swimming around in my dome piece under the cut:

-A bad GI flare up leads to an incident of calling into work last minute, pissing off her boss.

-Next day he’s shouting at her outside the theater, causing a scene, and then snaps their skateboard.

-He goes missing a few days later, wonder what happened 🤔.

-“I mean, it is kinda nice that he’s not around to scream his head off at everyone—But he was signing my pay checks so—Also, I need the money for a new board…”

-Oops, Sun feels a bit of guilt suddenly

-🌙”..Why not work here?..”

-“Oh—?! You guys are hiring? I-I mean, are you sure??”

-☀️(Moon, you absolute genius) “But of course, Starshine! What are friends for! Besides, the extra help is much appreciated! And, if I’m being completely honest here, ahehe..needed.” (kids aren’t known for their ability to clean up after themselves.)

-Gets hired at the arcade, hell yeaaah.

-Tho the theater is closed, Rylee can still get in and knows how to operate the projectors. Horror movie night in an abandoned theater anyone?

-Rylee’s bafflingly oblivious to Sun and Moon’s extra curricular activities on the nights they’re not available to hang.

-“What’s with the rusty stains on their clown costumes? Maybe face paint? When they worked as circus clowns, did they get pelted with tomatoes? Or is it ketchup? Yeah, bet it’s ketchup.”

-They’ve slipped up plenty of times, in small ways sure, but you’d think she’d catch on by now.

-Wouldn’t narc if she did find out what they’ve been up to, does it look like she likes cops?? But she wouldn’t necessarily be cool with what they’ve been doing either—

-The pair would become a source of unease for sure, but also intrigue and mystery..They’re only killing bad people..right?? It’s fine as long as they don’t involve her in their morbid shenanigans. Foreshadowing—

-It would already be a confusing shitshow of emotions, but could you imagine how extra conflicting it would be if they all felt some sort of way for each other 🫣???

[total-drama-brainrot]

Total Drama AU/Headcanon: Where everything is the same, except Noah is just as crazy/insane as Izzy and Eva, but he's much better at hiding it (with a sarcastic calm personality) ... Only Izzy, Eva and Owen know his true unhinged colors (and that's why they get along with him so well) .../// Duncan briefly saw it during the Total Drama Island Special Finale, when Duncan grabbed Noah's leg, but Noah escaped, and we didn't see HOW Noah escaped... In this AU, Noah bit Duncan's hand then gave Duncan a silent psychotic grin, which shocked Duncan and gave Noah time to escape (Noah basically pretending the bite and grin never happened) ... In TDWT, imagine if Alejandro ever found out that the sanest one on his Team is only PRETENDING to be sane! 😅

I've seen that one Scary!Noah AU floating about in the main tag lately, and I love the concept. There's so much that could be done with having someone like Noah (scarily smart, mostly motivated by either spite or The Bit, nerfed by his own laziness/apathy/hubris) have the added bonus of Going Apeshit sometimes. Either as a treat to himself, or as the natural consequence of his hidden nature.

It's like that "Izzy Isn't Crazy" theory, but in reverse. "Noah Is Crazy, He's Just Good At Masking".

In this AU, he and Izzy would get on like a house on fire.

Like recognises like, after all; Izzy would clock him as just as unhinged as herself at their first meeting, and probably confront him about his 'game plan' at the first chance she could (maybe that's why she was so quick to swap with Katie? A bid to get herself on the same team as Noah?). Noah would try to deny it at first, because he's supposed to be the 'lazy genius'- slipping from his allotted persona this soon into the competition would jeopardise his strategy!- but Izzy would reassure him that she can practically smell the crazy on him.

He'd live up to his title as 'The Schemer', by means of plotting pranks and other such events with Izzy. She'd use her status as the overt crazy girl to pull them off, and Noah would either help behind the scenes to abate his hunger for chaos, or live vicariously through Izzy's blatant mania whilst revelling in the fact that their plan(s) play out perfectly every time. Imagine how much better Izzy's bear suit prank would've been with a man on the inside- and now imagine how much better it would've been if Noah pretended to get eaten/mauled by bear!Izzy (using smuggled ketchup packets and A Lot Of Screaming to convince the Gophers of his demise)! (He'd play off the incident by blaming the whole thing on Izzy- saying she was the one who used the ketchup, and his screaming was just him being Rightfully Terrified of being eaten. Gotta keep up the charade!)

No one would suspect him either! Who would ever assume that slothful, apathetic Noah who complains about the trials and tribulations of 'hard work', 'effort' and 'physical activity' could be a friend and an accomplice to the unstoppable force of nature that is Izzy? He's always too busy shoving his nose into his book to ever consider befriending the crazy girl, there's no way Noah would even tolerate her! (/s)

I think he'd eventually reveal his true colours to Team E-scope plus Owen once their friendship is cemented off-screen. Noah isn't the trusting type (I'd clarify, but I'd end up writing a whole unrelated essay- maybe another time) and he's habitually secretive- his non-answers in the WT Character Interview and his Sierra-given title of "The Man of Mystery" attest to this- so he'd need to know that his friends are really his friends before letting himself be vulnerable/transparent with them, since any 'friendships' made on Total Drama always run the risk of being a ploy/fake. It is a social game, after all.

As for the Duncan Incident. Having Noah bite people is going to turn into a running gag for me at this point, because it's so fucking hilarious to imagine him in a scenario where he's forced/pressured into violence and immediately starts chomping down on someone. This weasel boy wasn't built for punches and kicks but On God can he use those pearly whites to cause some damage. (The human jaw has a surprisingly strong bite force. Noah absolutely knows this.)

I'd also like to suggest that Noah rips himself out of his cargo shorts after biting Duncan, leaving the punk with a bleeding handful of nerd shorts and an open wound for his troubles. He'd already let go of Noah by that point too; it's hard to maintain your grip on anything when you've got a manic bookworm tearing away at the tendons in your hands. So he's just sat there, terrified and concerned, nursing the throbbing, sluggishly bleeding bitemark on his hand and wondering how Noah managed to contort his usually stoic facial features into a grin so wild and feral.

And Noah races back to Izzy and Eva, face and teeth splattered in Duncan's blood, sans cargo shorts. Neither of them question it; Izzy has an idea of what he's done, since Noah's smugness levels have risen at least three tiers and he's smiling almost contentedly to himself, and Eva has learned how to Mind Her Own Business when it comes to Izzy and Noah's eccentricities (though she often shoots inquisitive looks towards Noah's red-painted face).

Then in World Tour? Alejandro is suffering. Noah's the only person on his team who isn't lacking braincells and/or completely unhinged (or so he thinks), and as such he's the latino's only lifeline to sanity on the forsaken jet. So when Duncan returns in London and seems scared of the harmless bookworm? That's concerning.

Assuming that Noah's a wee bit more savvy in this AU thanks to his subterfuge experience in Island, he probably wouldn't be as outwardly apparent in his distrust of Alejandro during the challenge- either that, or he'd be enjoying torturing Tyler too much to think about how much of an eel Alejandro is. So Alejandro wouldn't have any reason to want to eliminate him, if anything he'd be motivated to keep him around, if only to act as a buffer between himself and the idiocy of Team Chris.

Duncan's re-introduction and allocation to the team would be Alejandro's first inkling into the fact that Noah is more than he seems. When the delinquent is ushered to stand next to Alejandro and Noah, his pupils contract into pinpricks or terror, and his attention flickers between the aloof cynic to his side and an oval-shaped scar on his hand. The cynic shoots Duncan a friendly smile (Alejandro ignores how the smile doesn't quite reach Noah's eyes) and the punk turns sheet white.

Alejandro doesn't know what to make of it.

[lordvonbunnyv]

HTTYD Antarctica AU

I have been playing with this AU for a while, it's basically a modern HTTYD AU, but the riders are researchers for a base in antarctica. the base is called "the edge" and they bring their pets with them.

Hiccup is a technician and engineer for the base, he brought toothless with him, who I headcanon as a melanistic Norwegian forest cat. he also has his pilot's license and six different 3D printers, and a clock radio that can somehow run Doom.

I want to say that Astrid is the surveyor and radio operator of the group, she often goes out in the plane to conduct surveys of the weather and land, basically a glorified scout. she is also in charge of the base's safety. she is also Hiccup's right hand man, and I head canon stormfly to be a golden blue macaw.

Snotlout is just there to be with his friends and impress his dad. He does do maintenance work and keep log books. he does have a journal about his time at the base that he plans on publishing titled "how the toilet somehow froze over, and other stories from antarctica.". I think I want hookfang to be a Doberman maybe?

Fishlegs is the medic, he once had to perform surgery on himself after his appendix exploded. he survived the surgery, he also once allowed his nieces and nephews to come visit him and Meatlug (who is a kunekune pig) during the summer months.

Ruffnut and tuffnut are just there for the heck of it, they run their own youtube channel that documents their trip, and Tuffnut is the unofficial cook. like Snotlout, they perform odd jobs around the base. there was an incident where they ran out of food and had to wait a week before a new shipment came, all they had in the fridge were a box of lucky charms cereal, ketchup, mustard, sweet chili sauce, a few tortillas, a half eaten tin of kippers, and one of Hiccup's open can of Monster. they had to somehow make a meal out of that. Barf and Belch are a two headed green tree python.

Heather joins the group later as a way to escape her drug addict brother, Dagur. she later goes undercover on board of an illegal whaling ship run by Viggo and his crew and almost gets killed. Windshear is an african grey parrot.

of course this isn't a lord bunny AU without an OC...

Nott never met the riders before until she signs up for the trip as another medic after Fishleg's appendix went boom. she has albinism and is very light sensitive and is legally blind without her glasses that she choses not to wear for just how thick the lenses are, to her they're like two mason jar lids being held together by a wire. she is mostly active at night and is very shy and quiet and is really only seen with Fishlegs. her pet is an axolotl that glows under a black light named Marauder. basically Marauder is a modern day version of the Flightmare.

[leggerefiore]

https://twitter.com/sasaku_rkgk/status/1635669369450795009?s=20

https://twitter.com/sasaku_rkgk/status/1638145415915925505?s=20

I've completely forgot about this but I found it while cleaning out things BUT s/o making bento boxes/lunch that look like this for them.

Thought it be cute.

anon, the pokemon café food could be so many cute reactions from characters. ingo getting the Sneasel Burger™️

▲Ingo▼

● Poor guy was already overjoyed you made him a lunch and just was tearing up. You could put literal garbage in there, and he would still eat it because he's just so happy his love made him something so sweet and domestic. Ingo makes certain he doesn't miss his lunch break because he simply must make sure to eat your lovingly made meal.

● When he finally opens the box, his eyes go wide at the sight of the dishes inside. An adorable Drillbur themed chocolate cream dish explained why you asked him to make sure he placed it in the refrigerator at work. A cute note you left assured him it wasn't overly sweet, to align with his tastes. A thermos held cooled coffee with an adorable Litwick cup sat beside it. He held back a bravo. This was already too much for him.

● The Trubbish and Garbodor themed rice balls broke him, though. You reassured him you were careful to choose fillings that he'd definitely enjoy in your note. Ingo needed to thank you for all this effort. It truly brightened his day. He happily ate all the cute dishes you prepared for him and was clearly in a good mood for the rest of the day. Even an incident report couldn't bring down his emotional high.

● When he got home, you were quickly embraced and showered with endless praise from your beloved train man. It may tempt you to make more dishes like that for him. (This is how the Sneasel Burger somehow happens with his post or after Hisui.)

▽Emmet△

○ When you placed the odd box into his hands on his way out of the house, he had been confused. You then explained it was his lunch, and he nodded. Emmet is happy you made him food, the container just caught him off guard. He eagerly clocks out for his lunch break and sits the box on his desk. He enjoyed your cooking a lot, so he already expected to like what you made.

○ You proceeded to make his jaw drop and him gasp. The food inside made his grin grow large after getting over the initial shock. Joltik omelette left him overly giddy. They looked just like his babies! The ketchup on one even had him slightly concerned at first. The egg rice with a styled Tynamo made him just sit there with a goofy grin. You left a cute note teasing him about needing a diverse diet than sweets and hoping he enjoyed the meal.

○ You, however, weren't so cruel as to deny him his beloved sweets. Two doughnuts laid in the box, themed like two pieces of a Klink. You gave one a black nose and the other a white one. He chuckled at the idea of he and his brother being the pieces of a Klink. Emmet devoured the entire lunch box, but with momentary hesitation towards the Joltik omelette. He was scared he'd bite into it and hear a familiar squeak. It didn't happen, however, thankfully. All the Depot Agents were then terrified by a genuinely at ease and happy Subway Boss Emmet treading through the station. No one dared ruin his mood.

○ When he got home, you got tackled into a hug and covered in kisses. He thanked you for such a “verrrry” cute meal and squeezed you tightly to him. You definitely were tempted to make more for him, though he did beg you for more sweets.

▲▽▲▽▲▽▲

Sneasel Burger.....

[kittyball23]

Announcement!!

For those of you keeping up with my writing, I will actually be putting a pause on the request-taking. It’s been a little tiring to keep up the daily updates (and honestly I’m surprised at myself to have kept up as long as I have lol). But yeah, my streak stops at 36 days because I need a little break to a) spend time with my family for the holidays and b) refresh and be in a better mindset for the new year so that I can continue writing 🙂

I appreciate every comment, like, and reblog that I’ve gotten so far and thank my readers so much! 💖

Also, to keep you all in the loop, here’s some of my upcoming stuff. This includes a mix of requests and also my own ideas that I would like to work on once I start up again:

Untitled Cliva oneshot (Grown-Up Stuff)

Untitled Cliva date (Brodacious!)

Untitled AU where Bruce hears about Floyd’s capture on his True Crime podcast (The Wormhole)

Untitled Broppy schedules intimate time alone (Grown-up Stuff)

Untitled Broppy reaction to first time (Grown-up Stuff)

Untitled AU where Branch gives up his talent to save Floyd from dying (The Wormhole)

Untitled Branch prepares a nursery for his and Poppy’s baby (Brodacious!)

Untitled Broppy baby is born (Brodacious!)

Untitled Cloud Guy plays a prank on BroZone (Brodacious!)

Untitled Spruce’s ketchup incident (Brodacious!)

None of these are in any particular release order, and I have no set date at this moment for when I’ll update again.

In addition, I’ll also be catching up on answering Asks from my Inbox (I need to catch up lmao, so I’m tagging the folks that apply on that behalf: @aquamarine-dream-queen, @ceci-butterfly, @miniglitch07, @ladywitch17, @chipmunkfanno1love, @bf-1352, @toonmania25, @imholtorf, @burningmusicfunnygiant, and Anonymous requesters!)

[angelsnkisses]

fluffy headcanons - gabriel <3

💟 sfw 💟

warnings: none!

made a gabe gif cause there weren't any <3 sorry for the quality holy shit 😭

let's pretend that by some miracle, his family didn't ship him off to the hospital after the whole incident after all. they convinced alice's dad to not press charges, but he never saw her again. he started working harder to contol him impulses, met you, and even got to move into your apartment with you :) now, let's begin.

-

• gabe would love your apartment. he likes that you have it all set up and decorated, instead of plain or minimalistic.

• he would lounge around with you when you were both home from work, always laying his head in your lap while you were reading a book or spooning you on the couch while you were watching a movie.

• he'd be very hygienic, always muttering to himself about being a 'clean machine'. you honestly found it adorable, and it wasn't like he was hurting anything by being clean.

• you guys would go to the diner he showed you twice a week, and he would always order the same thing (hash and eggs with cheese :) plus a copious amount of ketchup).

• he'd like going on walks with you around the area of the city you lived in, which was fairly quiet. he'd especially like going at night, when the street lamps were the only thing illuminating the quiet streets and no one was around to interrupt you guys.

• he'd help you make dinner when you guys have the time <3. some days you'd order take out, it just depended on how work went for the two of you.

• he'd compliment you so much!!

"is that shirt mine? you look so pretty."

"i love your eyes, they're beautiful.."

"your hair looks different, did you change something? i like it :)."

• he'd like sitting with you outside when he smokes, whether you smoke or not. if you did, he would share with you or offer you your own.

• he'd love spooning you, he'd love when you laid on his chest, he'd love laying his head on your stomach with his arms hugging your waist.. pretty much any way he could touch you, he loved.

• if you had any pets, he would probably be obsessed with them. always giving them treats, cuddling up to them on the couch, etc. it'd be so adorable, and you would have several photos.

• nights with you would be his absolute favorite. he'd love cuddling up with you, muttering to you about his day and such before you both went to sleep.

• he would always be clinging to you when you woke up, he'd just love you so much <3.

**

A/N: today was so funnn omg, i got to hang out with my favorite people <3. hope you enjoyed, there's not enough gabe content on here :).