#plastic hooligans

[petalsscribbles]

20. confession (final)

Yn can't fight the ugly emotions off. The doubts, jealousy, heartbreak at the thought of Heeseung leaving him for someone else. For someone better.

His clock ticks on the white wall as he waits in his room for Heeseung. He tries to act okay, to savour every last moment of Heeseung's affection he can before he ultimately gives it to another. But he feels like a ticking bomb. How long can he put his facade up? How long can he pretened before he breaks?

Well, turns out it only took next 20 minutes for him to explode.

Heeseung finally arrives and Yn lets him in. He raises the plastic bags in his hands. Fried chicken and beer. He kisses his cheek as he always does and asks about his day. Yn lies that it was fine, as if he wasn't stalked by the shadow of his own lack of confidence. In himself and in Heeseung's affection towards him.

"So, what do you wanna watch this time?" Heeseung asks.

"I picked last time. It's your turn." Yn answers.

"I know, but I'd rather watch something you want." He smiles and Yn breaks. He can't do this anymore. The gentleness, love, he can't handle it anymore knowing it's going to be teared away from his grasp.

"Heeseung, I think we should go back to being friends. Normal friends." Yn states decidedly. Heeseung's smile falls and his eyes widen in shock. He only needs to take two steps to reach Yn and grabs his arms as soon as he does.

"Wha-what are you talking about? Why do you want-" His eyes are desperately searching Yn's, trying to figure out where is all this coming from, if this is some kind of sick joke.

Yn shakes off Heeseung's hold and takes a step back.

"I'm not an idiot, Heeseung. I know you're planning to leave me soon."

"I'm not! Why would you even think that?" Heeseung defends.

"You've changed Heeseung. You got into therapy, stopped smoking and so much more. Possibly other things I don't even know of. You're obviously trying to impress someone and honestly it's fucked up that you keep messing around with me while you like someone else." Yn argues, trying hard to keep his voice steady and eyes tearless.

"Yn you got it all wrong!" Heeseung says, once again invading Yn's space. Yn takes a step back. This repeats twice until Yn's back hits his door and he has no choice but to listen to Heeseung's pleas.

Heeseung cups Yn's cheek with his left hand, making sure he can't look away while the other rests on his shoulder.

"You're the one I like." He whispers and Yn's jaw might as well hit the floor with how shocked he is. Heeseung uses his speechlessness to continue. "When you first hung out with Soobin, I was jealous out of my mind. I realized how perfect he is for you. You should be with someone like him, but the thing is, I'd rather die than let anyone else have you. So, instead of lashing out or giving you up, I decided to be the man you deserve."

Yn's mind is in shambles, unable to form a single coherent thought. The only thing is Heeseung's words echoing in his head.

You're the one I like.

Heeseung sighs and rests his forehead on Yn's.

"This isn't how I wanted this to go. I had a whole romantic confession prepared with gifts and written speech and stuff."

Yn can't fight off a laugh bubbling from his throat. He's not sure what's so funny - his own stupidity, Heeseung's sudden confession or just the whole situation in general. Either way, he's happy.

"Heeseung, I don't need you to be perfect. To be honest, all I ever wanted was a tall, reasonable guy that doesn't use Axe products and knows how to parallel park." Yn starts and it's Heeseung's turn to laugh. "You shouldn't go back to smoking and you definitely should keep going to therapy but other than that, just be the perverted hooligan i fell for."

"Alright." Heeseung agrees and kisses Yn. "So we're boyfriends now?"

"Yeah we are."

Yn's friends are going to lose their shit when he tells them about this, but for now he's just going to enjoy Heeseung's warmth.

a/n: Welp, that's a wrap on Bad Habits. I hope you had fun reading as much as I had making it. Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs and I'm sorry if you think it's too short. As you already know, I have another enhypen smau in mind (so far it looks like it's gonna be Jay) but I'm gonna take a little break first.

I hope this little silly fic made you laugh and that you might come back to it on a shitty day :3

Until next time <3

taglist CLOSED

taglist: @nootnootpinguuu  @kkurbys @bubblztaro @monstaxpuppy @xavi-in-kpopland @starchasing-cryptid @hwalleluja @pinxeajin

prev masterlist next

[yogurtverse]

K my uncle works for the part 9 dub and he leaked all the translated stand names

Daft Hooligan

Alice in Restraints

Centrist Milk Hotel

Sure Thing Computer

My Scientific Romance

Skinny Shady

Like an Unloved

Freak Out in the Disco

101 Gecs

Friendly Holly

Backalley Boys

Hotel Sacramento

Plastic Shore

Smash Face

Snooze Theatre

Deceased Kennedy's

Gotta say this part seems promising

[this-aint-massachusetts]

FNaF movie hcs pt 1!

here’s some hcs I made :)

-Abby would be a gacha kid if it was around at the time

-Vanessa has anemia and she gets dizzy every time she stands up, and the first time she passed out in front of Mike he just thought she died

-William is obsessed with robotics and if you ask him about it he won’t stop talking about it for the next 4 hours (autistic William Afton real)

-Abby is terrified of something js crawling out of her closet while she sleeps and can’t sleep without a nightlight because of it (and the fear only got worse after Freddy’s)

-When Vanessa was a kid William sometimes just forgot to feed her so she would just eat literally anything she could find, editable or not. and she had to go to the hospital because of this multiple times 

-Mike hates olives and is so dramatic about it when he has to eat one, Ness will tell him that he should just eat it but Ness will eventually just eat it for him bcuz of Mikes dramatic ass

-When William came home after kidnapping Garret he was like “Vanessa I have a surprise for you” and he just showed her Garret in his car trunk and thought it was the funniest thing ever

-Abby chews on plastic 

-William told Vanessa when she was like really young all the gross details of his murders and she’d just sit there scribbling it all down like: “Then his brother ran after the car while yelling carrot, why would you name a kid carrot” 

-Mike and Abby once spent like 30 hours building a big Lego thing but Abby accidentally knocked it over and it shattered into a million pieces and then Mike cried 

-When they came home from the pizzeria aunt jane was just still dead in their living room and so Mike had to explain that she was in fact not sleeping

-The walls in Abby and Mikes house are really thin so Mike would just be crying himself to sleep and Abby would just be trying to sleep in the other room like: 😥

-Mike will tell Abby about some badshit older sibling lore and she just look at him like: 😰

-Mike uses 17 in 1 body wash, shampoo, conditioner, tooth paste, shaving cream, olive oil, brake fluid, lotion, lube, mouthwash, deodorant, milk, dental wax, eye drops, baby oil, lighter fluid, banana pudding 

-Aunt Jane tried to use the fact Mike uses 17 in one body wash against him in court

-Max used to take Abby to do teenage hooligan shit with her friends and they’d all have so much fun

-Abby would tell her bully’s that Mike and Vanessa both use weapons at their jobs and they will beat them up and no one believed her until they picked her up from school in uniform.

-The main four animatronics still try to play in the pizzeria like when they were alive but they can only play in the ball pit, Bonnie got stuck in the slide once and it was a whole ordeal.

k that’s all for now I’ll post more later because I literally have a whole ass Google doc so okay byye 😘😘😘

[cosmicjoke]

New York, New York 1980

The jumbotron overlooking Times Square reads 11:48 PM and minus three degrees, Dec. 14th, 1980. Ugly, orange glow of numbers hazing through the mist, don’t mean anything on their own. Feels like minus twenty with the humidity. Snow’s started coming down heavy, and the streets have gone empty and silent. His breath fogs the air in front of his face and it’s knives down his throat when he breathes in.

Ash thinks he might die tonight.

He’s on his own.

Billy and the others took off a couple hours ago, he don’t know where to. Didn’t tell him and he didn’t ask. Probably to find shelter. Deadly out here, tonight. Deadly. Lotta’ people weren’t gonna’ make it to sun-up.

He swallows, sniffs hard. Snot keeps dribbling outta’ his right nostril, running down to his lip, freezing there in a thickening crust. He wants to wipe it away, but that would mean unwrapping his arms from around himself, and he thinks he might just go then and there if he does.

Eyes hurt, burn with tears as he glares up at that big, stupid screen, flashing through the dark and fog.

He needs to find some place too. Needs to find somewhere. All them shelters booked up, though. Every space taken. Coulda’ got there, maybe, if he hadn’t been workin’ the streets so late. But he needed money. Needed it bad. Hadn’t eaten in days. Would starve to death, soon. That’d be worse than freezing to death, he figures. Freezing to death, he figures, you just go numb, and then you get real warm, and you just give up and then you’re dead. Starvin’ to deaths worse.

Though maybe he should rethink that, considering how much this hurts.

Needs to find somewhere.

More than seven hours to sun-up, and it’s only going to get colder.

//

Subway car stinks like piss and vomit, the overhead fluorescents flickering in and out, an annoying, loud buzz emanating from the fixtures. But it’s heated, at least, and empty. Quiet. Better than being up top in the snow and air.

Ash keeps his arms wrapped tight around his torso. The denim of his jacket is worn through and wet from slipping earlier in the snow slicked street, the worn-out soles of his sneakers not made for any sort of traction. He can’t take it off. Even if it’s warmer here, he doubts he’ll manage to pass the entire night riding the subway. He hopes for a few hours, at least. If he’s lucky.

But Ash ain’t never been lucky.

He gets maybe half an hour of rest, another hour of going from stop to stop, before the car fills up with the ruckus of laughing voices, whooping and hollering.

Ash opens his eyes. It’s a group of gang bangers. Buncha’ hooligans.

He feels his body go tense at the sight, pressing his back against the hard plastic of his seat.

Shit.

This wasn’t good.

He had to get off before they spotted him. They’d take his money, if he couldn’t. They’d rob him. Maybe worse.

He tries not to be noticed as he stands and makes his way for the exit. He doesn’t get far, though, one of the punks calling out to him.

Ash stops, tries not to cringe away as the group comes toward him, blocking off his escape.

“Well, what do we got here?” One of ‘em starts. Big, tall guy. Gotta’ be seventeen, eighteen. There’s six of ‘em. All about the same. No way past. Ash knows he ain’t got a chance. “What’re you doin’ out so late, all on your own, little boy?” He grins down at Ash, ugly, crooked teeth, greasy hair hanging down around his red face. “You all alone, little boy?”

Ash can feel his heart hitting hard inside his chest, his own breath loud inside his ears. His mind races, tryin’ to come up with something, anything to get him out of this.

“… I… I’m meetin’ my brother.” He croaks after a long moment, the lie heavy and bitter on his tongue. He thinks of Griff and knows he probably won’t ever see him again. “I’m meetin’ him at this stop.”

“That right, little boy?” The punk grins wider. “You meetin’ your brother? ‘Cause we didn’t see no one out there.”

“H-he’s comin’… he’ll be here.” Ash stammers, voice thin and shaking. “I need… I need to get off.”

“Yeah… I don’t think so.”

The blade seems to come outta’ nowhere, just suddenly there in the punks hand, flashing in Ash’s eyes.

“Whatch’u got, boy?”

Ash steps back, his hands automatically reaching for his pockets. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Give it, you little shit!”

“I… I don’t got…”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before he’s being grabbed by the collar of his jacket and shoved back against the wall of the car, the knife suddenly at his throat, sharp edge of it digging painfully into the soft skin.

“Check his pockets.”

Ash knows better than to struggle. There wasn’t nothin’ he could do.

They find his money. They take it. A whole nights worth of work. Eighty-three bucks.

Ash thinks he should be thankful they don’t take his jacket and shoes too, though he guesses those wouldn’t be worth nothin’ to ‘em.

“Thanks, kiddo!” The punk tells him. “Now, didn’t you say this was your stop?”

They throw him out of the car, onto the platform, just as the doors are closing. He can hear their laughter behind him, and a moment later, the train is gone.

The concrete beneath him is freezing against his naked palms and the worn-through holes at the knees of his jeans.

For a long time, Ash just sits there like that.

He can hear it up top, on the street, the wind whistling down through the exit and into the tunnel, carrying the cold with it. He starts to shake, an already painful sting bleeding through the thin layers of his clothing.

When he finally pushes himself up, his palms are scrapped bloody from the impact. He bites his lip, hard, willing back the tears threatening in his eyes.

Wasn’t no use crying.

He glances around for a clock. Finds one. It’s a quarter past one in the morning. If he gets back on the train, he could get mugged again, but this time he won’t have no money. Doesn’t know what would happen, then, so he thinks he better not. Nowhere to stay, then, to keep out of the cold. He’s fucked, he thinks.

He meanders around the station for a while. Tries one of the public bathrooms. It’s damp and dark, the wind from up top seeping in through the swinging door, turning the space colder than out on the platform. He can’t stay here, he knows.

Doesn’t know where to go.

Finally he makes his way back up to the street.

It’s like walking into a wall of knives, the cold cuts so sharp and deep. Ash folds his arms around himself, sticks his hands under his armpits, tries burying his face against his shoulder, but nothing really helps, lungs burning with frigid air. He’s got to get out of this. Some place. Any place.

He’s come up onto 57th, near Central Park South. The park seems like an even worse idea than the subway, but he doesn’t know where else to go.

There’s some dive bars still open, but not for long. And anyway, Ash knows he wouldn’t be allowed to stay. He’s eleven fuckin’ years old. They’d throw him out, most like. ‘Cept maybe… maybe someone’d feel sorry enough for him to let him stay.

… Maybe he should go back to Club Cod and ask for his room.

The thought forces bile up into his throat. For an instant, Ash thinks he really might be sick. Not that it would really matter. Didn’t have no food in his stomach, no how.

He only gags a little, though, wiping at his mouth. He can’t stop shaking, the tips of his fingers and toes numb and pained, his nose aching viciously, won’t stop running.

He wanders into the park, knowing it’s a stupid move, but Billy and the others sometimes came here, when they couldn’t get into a shelter, and Ash hopes maybe he’ll find ‘em.

He makes his way toward the spot they’d usually be, but he knows soon enough they ain’t there.

The park is empty and silent and black well beyond his vision, the glow of the lamps lining the walking paths obscured and vague through the dense fog.

Ash licks his lips, a sick worry dropping down into his guts.

Nobody was out here tonight.

Nobody was dumb enough. Not even the stalkers and pervs and muggers.

Guesses it was just him then. Just him who was dumb and desperate enough.

He makes his way back to the street. He starts to cry. It’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.

He’s gonna’ die if he can’t find somewhere warm.

He stumbles along for a couple more blocks before he can’t make it any farther, huddling beneath a storefront awning.

There’s a bar across the street, open, by the looks of it, but nobody’s hanging around out front.

It’s his only option, now, and so he takes it, hurrying to the other side. Even if he only gets a few minutes of warmth, it’s better than nothin’.

Walking in, he gets blasted by a wall of heat. The relief is almost enough to make him start crying again, and he finds himself suddenly sapped of energy, sagging against the wall closest to the entrance, limbs stiff and frigid.

It takes him too long to really notice his surroundings, and when he finally does, he feels his stomach turn.

It’s a strip joint.

There’s a stage in the room’s center, chintzy lighting effects illuminating it in regulated patterns of blue and white flashes, the rest of the space shadowy by comparison, hazy and dreamlike, a thick malaise of cigarette and cigar smoke filling the air. Music pumps through the overhead speakers, monotonous and irritating in its predictability, the stench of liquor everywhere. There’s only a couple of patrons sitting around the stage. Overweight pigs who can barely pretend at being interested in the woman prancing around more than half-naked in front of them.

Ash stares up at her, and feels himself start with recognition.

He knows her.

One of the girls that works the streets out there with him. She calls herself Betty Boop, but her real name’s Beatrix. Not that he would say anything. Ash ain’t his real name, either. Griff called him Ash. Papa’s the one that added Lynx to the end ‘a that, ‘cause he said that’s what Ash reminded him of. A lynx.

He didn’t know she worked as a stripper too, but it makes sense, for nights like this, when workin’ the streets wasn’t really an option. Ash would do it too, ‘cept nobody would hire him for that kinda’ work. Not if they were runnin’ a ‘legitimate’ business, anyway. Places like Club Cod, though, he was naked more often than not. Only he didn’t get paid for it. He didn’t get nothin’ for his hard work, there, ‘cept the privilege of not dying.

He was lucky they let him out at all. Was lucky, he guesses, that Papa had taken him out of being a regular there. He only had to work when there was a special client needed takin’ care of.

He shakes his head, his throat tight. He doesn’t want to think on that. Doesn’t want to think of that place.

Nobody’s noticed him yet. He hopes he can keep it that way for a while. He doesn’t want to go back out there, into the cold.

So he stays where he is, and waits, and eventually, Beatrix comes off the stage, disappearing into the back. None ‘a the pigs even gave her any cash, fuckin’ bastards. Ash thinks, if he had any left, he’d give her a few dollars at least.

It’s maybe another five minutes, and still nobody’s spotted him, when he sees Beatrix again, comin’ out of the back, dressed in regular clothes and heading for the exit, right where he’s standing.

Ash feels frozen, then, not knowing what to do. She’s gonna’ see him, and he doesn’t know what will happen if she does. Doesn’t think he wants her to.

But he can’t move, and he sees the moment she recognizes him, her eyes going wide.

“Hey… Ash?”

Ash just stares up at her, not knowing what to say, his voice at once lodged in his throat.

“Honey… what are you doin’ here?” Beatrix looks around, worried, it seems like, that someone will spot him.

Ash looks away finally, shrugging weakly.

“… Just stumbled in, I guess.” He mutters. “Didn’t know you worked here.”

Beatrix looks back at him, mouth twisted into a frown. She’s got that look again. The one that Ash knows means she’s feelin’ sorry for him. The one he knows means she’s worried about him. He wishes she wouldn’t bother. Wasn’t like he was worth it.

“Oh, honey, ain’t you got no place to stay tonight?”

Ash keeps his eyes away, shaking his head.

“… Missed out on the shelters.” He mutters again, folding his arms around himself tighter.

“… You can’t stay here, hon. You’re too young. They’ll have to throw you out, soon as they notice you here.”

“… Yeah. I know.”

“Were you workin’? Out in this weather?”

Ash nods, feels his throat close up.

“Oh, sweetie…”

“I’m alright. I’m fine. I’ll leave soon. You don’t gotta’ worry. If you’re scared they’ll think you let me in or…”

“Ash, I don’t care about that. Look… I can’t let you go back out there, knowin’ you’ve got no place. You’ll freeze to death.”

“I’m alright.” Ash insists again.

“Nah uh. Ash… listen… why don’t you come with me for the night? I’ve got an apartment. My man’s gone for the week, out of town. You should be okay to come by and crash there.”

For a moment, there’s a thrill of dread through Ash’s guts. The thought of being locked in an apartment with one of them pimps. The ones that were always tryin’ to snag him. He couldn’t think of a worse situation to find himself in. It hardly registers to him an instant later that Beatrix said her man was gone for the week. But what if she was wrong? He knew how the pimps treated their women. Like they were property. Like they belonged to ‘em. Like how Papa treated him.

What if her man came home while he was there?

Ash guesses she must see the worry on his face, ‘cause she comes up to him then, reaches out and takes his hand.

“He won’t be back tonight, honey. I promise. You’ll be okay.”

Ash hesitates.

He knows he can’t really afford to turn her down. He knows he���s lucky, that he would have the chance at all for a warm place to stay tonight, when he’d been sure less than twenty minutes ago that he could die if he spent much longer out in the streets.

And so he shoves down the uncertainty and fear threatening to choke him, and nods weakly.

“… Thank you.” He whispers, and Beatrix just smiles, squeezing his hand.

“Come on. Let’s get you someplace less disgusting than this, huh?”

Ash snorts a laugh.

“S’not so bad.” He says. “Not compared to some places.”

He doesn’t elaborate on that, though. Wouldn’t be no point. Doesn’t wanna’ ruin Beatrix’s night any more than he already has.

“If you say so, sweetheart.” Beatrix smiles, still holding his hand. “You didn’t… I mean… when I was up there?”

Ash shrugs, looking away.

“I seen a lotta’ stuff. It’s alright.”

“Oh, Jeez, Ash, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m alright.” He repeats.

What the hell was he gonna’ tell her? Seeing a naked woman wasn’t anything new. Women had raped him. Clients at Club Cod.

Beatrix doesn’t say anything else after that, and he doesn’t either, just follows her out of the club and to her car, parked across the street.

It feels even colder than it did before, but Ash guesses that could just be ‘cause he got a little warmth. Whatever it is, he’s just happy when they get inside her car. He reaches out, pressing his frozen fingers against the vents blowing hot air.

He stares out the window as she pulls out, watching the falling snow as it comes down harder than before, beginning to whip past in a dizzying, blinding wash of white. It’s quiet. Now that he’s out of the cold, almost peaceful, and he can feel the exhaustion starting to weigh down on him.

He feels relief when they finally make it to her apartment, and he follows close behind as they make their way up the stares of the tenement complex.

“That damn elevator’s always out.” Beatrix mutters as they trudge their way up. “We’re almost there, hon.”

“… It’s alright.” Ash tells her, even though, by the time they make it to her floor, his lungs are burning a little, his legs weak and shaky beneath him. He tries to hide it, but he don’t think he does a very good job with the way Beatrix keeps eyein’ him.

“Here we are. I know it’s not much, but it’s clean and warm.”

Ash looks around and thinks about tellin’ her that, to him, it’s like a fuckin’ luxury hotel room compared to some ‘a the places he’s had to stay before. But he only shakes his head and tells her it’s great, and he means it.

“Bathroom’s right down that hall and to the left.” She points. “If ya want to get cleaned up, there’s fresh towels in there. I don’t really have any clothes that’ll fit you though, darling. I’m sorry.”

Ash shakes his head.

“S’alright.” He says. “Can… can I take a shower?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Ash thanks her again before making his way down the hall.

He knows if her man was here, he’d never feel comfortable enough for this. But it’s just Beatrix, and he knows she understands. Knows she goes through the same hell each night he does.

He’s still cold from the outside, and it’s almost painful when he steps under the warm spray of water, the tips of his fingers and toes burning. It’s only a few seconds before it turns pleasant, though, and Ash sags in relief against the stall, the lids of his eyes drooping closed.

He’s so tired. He just wants to go to sleep.

Sometimes… sometimes he thinks… he’d like to fall asleep and never wake up.

He shoves the thought out of his mind as he steps from the shower, drying himself off and dressing quickly. He’s happy at least to be out of his wet jacket and shoes, keeping his feet bare as he makes his way out of the bathroom and back down the hall to the living room.

He stops at the threshold, uncertain as he spots Beatrix moving around the small kitchen space, heating up what looks like TV dinners in a microwave.

“Oh, Ash!” She at last notices him standing there. She smiles at him. “Was the shower alright?”

Ash nods, finally moving forward.

“That’s good.” She keeps smiling. “I don’t know if you’re hungry, darling, but I heated up some tv dinners, if you want to eat. It’s nothing special, but…” she shrugs, holding the plastic trays up for him to see.

Ash feels his stomach squeeze and cramp, letting out a loud growl as the smell of the food hits him, his face warming in embarrassment.

He hasn’t really eaten in two days.

“I guess that’s a yes, then?” Beatrix laughs. “Come here, you can eat at the table. I’ve got some orange juice too, if you like?”

Ash swallows, hesitating a moment before moving to the small, fold out table near the kitchen, pulling out one of the vinyl backed chairs.

“O-okay.” He agrees. “Thanks… th-thanks…”

“Of course, sweetie.” Beatrix smiles again, placing one of the dinners in front of him, along with a fork. Ash watches her as she takes out a glass from one of the cabinets then, and a pitcher of juice from the fridge. He suddenly feels parched, swallowing dryly, his throat clicking. He thanks her again as she hands him the glass.

“So,” she starts, sitting across from him. “you doin’ okay, Ash? How come you didn’t have no place to stay?”

Ash digs at his food, keeping his eyes fixed down. He shrugs.

“What about renting a room?”

“… Got robbed.” Ash mumbles, still looking away.

“Oh, baby… I’m sorry. Are you alright? I guess that’s a stupid question. Of course you aren’t.”

Ash shakes his head, beginning to eat.

“I’m alright.”

For a long moment, Beatrix doesn’t say anything, and Ash is happy to concentrate on his food. He hopes she’ll drop it.

“I can give you some cash, if…”

Ash immediately shakes his head no.

“No, I’m alright. I don’t need your money.”

“But…”

“Besides, your man’ll be mad if you’re short, won’t he?”

The room goes quiet then, and finally Ash looks up at her, sees her mouth pulled into a tight frown.

“… I’m sorry.” He hurries to apologize. “I shouldn’t ‘a just assumed…”

“No,” Beatrix shakes her head. “it’s alright. You’re right. It’s not really my money to just… give away.”

Ash feels shitty, then. Feels like a jerk.

“It should be.” He blurts. “You’re the one doin’ all the work for it.”

Beatrix laughs at that.

“You’re sweet.” She smiles, reaching out, ruffling his hair.

“No I ain’t…” Ash ducks away, turning his face aside. “I ain’t sweet.”

“You are. You’re a good kid.” She insists. “It’s not right, you livin’ this life.”

Ash scowls, dropping his fork.

“It’s my life.” He spits.

Beatrix pulls her hand back, frowning, her face confused.

Ash thinks of Dad. Thinks of what he told him. ‘Make sure you get paid’, he’d said.

Like it was natural.

Like it was natural for what happened to have happened.

Like it was what was meant for him.

Papa told him so too. Papa told him he was made for this. Told him he was perfect for it.

He can’t explain all that to Beatrix, though. Can’t make her understand.

This was his life. It was the only life he was ever gonna’ have. Only life he was ever meant to have.

He wasn’t sweet.

He was a filthy whore, was what he was.

He belonged on the street. He belonged in this life.

His eyes burn. He wipes clumsily at them with the back of his hand.

“I’m tired.” He mutters. “Can I go to sleep?”

“Yeah, of course. Of course, Ash.” Beatrix tells him. “Here, I’ve… I’ve got a futon. Lemme’ just set it up for you.”

Ash feels bad. He shouldn’t ‘a snapped at her like that. Wasn’t her fault. She was just tryin’ to be nice. Just bein’ kind. She didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was. Where he came from. He feels like shit.

He watches as she folds the bed out from the ratty looking couch, sets it up with a blanket and pillow.

“There you go, hon.” She smiles at him again. “Hope it’s not too uncomfortable.”

“… Thank you.” Ash whispers. Can’t look at her now. Feels like such an asshole. “I’m sorry. I’m just causin’ you trouble.”

“No you ain’t, Ash. It’s alright. Come on. Get some sleep. Don’t worry about anything.”

Ash don’t argue. He can barely keep his eyes open. By the time he gets to lyin’ down and Beatrix has turned the lights out, it’s barely a few minutes before he’s lost to the world, pulled down deep into black dreams.

//

“I’ll pay you back the next time I see you.” Ash promises come daylight. Beatrix tries to tell him he doesn’t have to, but Ash has learned it’s best not to owe anyone any favors, if he can help it. So he keeps insisting until she accepts, and then he’s gone, back out onto the streets.

He takes the subway back to 42nd. Billy’s there, loitering around in front of the peep shows. Ash makes his way toward him.

“Hey, there you are, man!” Billy greets. He slings his arm around Ash’s shoulders, pulling him in against his side and rubbing his knuckles against his scalp. Ash tries pulling away, but Billy doesn’t let him. “I thought you might’ve bought it last night, kid. Man, it was cold.”

“It’s still cold.” Ash grumbles, annoyed.

Billy laughs.

“So, where’d you end up?” He asks, finally letting Ash go, pulling out a pack of cigs. He knocks one loose and holds it out.

“Thanks.” Ash takes it. He waits for Billy to light him up before answering. “I ran into Betty Boop and she let me crash at her place.”

“Damn, lucky.” Billy laughs again.

“What about you and the guys?” Ash asks, takin’ a drag, letting the smoke seep out slow through his nose.

“Me and Zach made it into a shelter. Dunno’ ‘bout the others.” Billy tells him, takin’ his own drag.

Ash feels somethin’ sick slither through his guts at that. He hopes no one died.

“I wish it was summer.” Ash says.

“You say that now,” Billy answers. “but you’ll be just as miserable when it’s fuckin’ 90 with humidity.”

Ash frowns, takes another drag off his cig.

“Yeah, but at least I won’t have to worry ‘bout freezin’ to death at night.”

“True that.” Billy grins at him.

They stand there for a little while then, not sayin’ nothin’, and Ash hopes it’ll stay that way, but of course it doesn’t.

“So you stayed out workin’ last night. You crazy, man. I hope you at least made bank.”

Ash swallows, stares down at the cigarette between his fingers, flicks the ash from it. He shrugs.

“How much you make? You couldn’t afford a room?”

Ash brings the cigarette to his lips, sucks on it hard. The smoke burns down his throat.

He remembers the first time he smoked a cigarette. Billy’d given it to him. He’d felt like he was going to cough up one of his own lungs. He’d never tasted anything so disgusting. Like breathing in tar and fire. He guesses that’s what it was, really. Guesses you could get used to anything, after a while.

“I got robbed.” He admits finally, his face warming at it.

Billy scoffs like he knew he would.

“The fuck, man. How? You ridin’ the sub again? I told you not to do that shit.”

“I didn’t have no place...” Ash starts.

Billy cuffs him against the back of the head, and Ash stumbles forward a step, the blow leaving a dull throb through his skull. He doesn’t say nothin’. He was used to Billy hittin’ him now.

“How much you lose, man?”

Ash hesitates.

“… Eighty-three bucks.” He finally says.

He cringes, expecting another hit, but Billy just sighs, shakin’ his head.

“Dumbass. You ain’t never gonna’ make it out here.”

“I’ve made it three years already.” Ash sneers up at him.

“Yeah, ‘cause ‘a me.” Billy sneers back. “You little dweeb. You need a fuckin’ gun.

“… Can’t afford a gun.” Ash looks away, miserable.

“Look at you. You can’t weigh more’n sixty pounds soakin’ wet. You need a gun.”

“I said I can’t afford no gun. Lemme’ alone, Billy.”

“I could lend you the cash.”

“No.” Ash shakes his head.

“Why the hell not?”

“I don’t wanna’ owe no favors. Lemme’ alone.”

Billy tsks.

“You’re so fuckin’ suspicious Ash. The hell’s wrong with you? I’m offerin’ to help.”

“No you ain’t, Billy. You’re an opportunist. You’ll hold it over me ‘till I pay you back somehow.”

Ash sees Billy’s hand come up, but he ain’t fast enough to get outta’ the way. An instant later he’s on the ground, the taste of blood on his tongue, his lip pulsating in pain.

“What kinda’ kid talks like that?” Billy frowns down at him, shakin’ out his hand. “How old is you, Ash? Eleven? You’re the weirdest fuckin’ kid I ever met.”

Ash wipes at his bloody lip, stares at the bright red against his fingers.

He doesn’t say anything as he pushes himself to his feet, dusting the snow off his pants.

He dropped his cigarette. Great.

Billy keeps eyein’ him, and Ash wonders if he’ll hit him again.

He sniffs, wiping at his nose.

“Just leave me alone Billy.” He mutters. “I don’t wanna’ kill no one.”

“Why? You already did, didn’t ya?”

Ash’s eyes sting and he turns his face away.

“… I shouldn’t ‘a told you that.” He whispers to himself, but Billy hears him anyway.

“Yeah, well, you did, Ash. Whatch’u think? You can be better than the rest ‘a us?”

Ash wraps his arms around himself, vision blurring.

“… I ain’t better than no one.” He whispers again.

“Damn straight, you isn’t. You wanna’ make it out here, Ash, you gonna’ have to let go ‘a that soft touch you got.”

“Fuck you, Billy.” Ash spits, but Billy only laughs.

“You wanna’ busted nose to go with that lip?”

Ash doesn’t say nothin’.

He thinks of Griff. Thinks of how his brother used to hold him at night when he got scared ‘a the dark, or whatever. Thinks of how his brother was so kind.

He misses him so much.

“Pff, whatever, kid. I’m outta’ here. See ya around, I guess.”

Ash doesn’t watch him go. Wasn’t no point.

Guesses he better get to hookin’, if he wanted to eat. If he wanted some place to stay tonight.

He wipes at his nose, and doesn’t think about much at all as he trudges his way down the street to stand in his usual spot.

Link to my a03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wbss21/works

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

It is another snowfall on a winter day in the city of Townsville. Joby and Josie, children of Johnny Test and dress in their winter clothings, came out of the house to spend the remaining winter break they have left before school start. The two kids are sitting on the bench waiting for the bus. The bus arrives, that the children get their stuffs.

“Last one to reach Fitz Maurice Hill is a rotten egg and buy hot cocoa!” Said Josie, carrying her wooden toboggan.

“Oh you are on!” Said Joby, carrying his plastic green sled, wearing a competitive smirk.

The bus took them to their respective destination, as the kids exit the bus, they then climb up to the hill by foot. Josie and Joby put down their sled and get on.

“Ready?” Joby asked.

“Ready!” Said Josie.

“GO!” They said in unison.

The two take off.

Meanwhile, the daughter of Brandon and Stella, Twinkly Astrid Bloom Solaria walking through the city, avoiding being follow. She is dress in a velvet winter buttoned up cardigan jacket, black knee high socks, black snow insulated pants, pink winter boots, and a white scarf wrapped around her neck. The one who is following her is a small, pink droplet shaped furry body, and has small bright white specks which resemble stars and have no visible limbs. The creature is looking at her with a gold-orange eyes and mouth trembling. Twinkly grumbles because all she wants was to be left alone. Honestly, why is that creature following her? Can’t she go back to Kai or back at Scaris/Paris with her family?

Twinkly is minding her own business, when she is not watching where she is going because all of a sudden she heard a loud voice, “Look out!”.

“Huh?”

Twinkly is crash into Joby, who’s failed to move to a different direction. They groaned in pain.

“Hahaha! I win!” Said Josie, reaching the finished line. She get off her toboggan and enjoy her victory by throwing her arms in the air. You are gonna buy me hot cocoa because you…. uhhh,”

Josie is looking at Joby, faced down and on top of Twinkly.

“Ouch. That is not how you falls in love,” said Josie.

Joby groans again, he got off of Twinkly and is now lying on the snow on his knees.

“Get off me hooligan!” Twinkly shouted. “I am already off of you. You are so impatient.” Complained Joby. He groan, as he slowly got off of Twinkly and is now lying on the snow, on his knees. As he get up from the snow, the two lock their eyes again.

“Great, not you again!” Said Joby.

“Me? I obviously don’t want to see you too!” said Twinkly.

“You two know each others?” Josie asked.

Joby points at Twinkly. “This is the crazy girl I told you about!”

Twinkly’s mouth stretches wide. Crazy?!

“For real? Wow,” said Josie.

“No, I am not crazy!” said Twinkly. “I am a fairy, whose is not at the Winx level yet. I can do magic.”

Joby rolls his eyes. Josie flick her hand and scoff. “Phew! Nah, I am tired of seeing enough magic in my life. I don’t need more,” Josie denied. “Come on Joby, we need to go to the hot cocoa stand, you are paying.”

Joby let out a sigh, admitting that he lost the race. “Fine, coming.”

Josie run for the hills to the hot cocoa stand. Joby wipe the snow off his black winter jacket with his gloved hands. He picks up his earmuffs to put them on, when he saw Twinkly acting weird. He shouldn’t ask, but he did anyway. “Why are you cautious for no reason?” Joby asked, regret his decision later.

Twinkly’s eyes start dancing back and forth. “Well… I… Um…,” Twinkly muttered. The creature start whining. “Can you please help me hide Lilly?” Said the bothered Twinkly.

Joby lifted an eyebrow, and stares at the creature calls Lilly. “That’s your weird dog.” Said Joby.

“No, that’s a staryummy. That creatures you saw in the news a couple of months ago.” Twinkly corrected Joby that Lilly is a staryummy, and not a dog.

Joby is even more confused, so he gives it a thought. He then remember something about an infestation and everyone has to avoid these creatures, not to attract them by giving them sweets or soft drinks, and let either the superheroes from The Roundtable or the pest control handle them.

“Oh, I forgot.” He said.

Twinkly let out a hmph. Joby let out a hmph too, because why is she asking him to help hide this creature in the first place? They don’t like each others, and if she don’t want this ‘staryummy’ creature around her, why not call the pest control? It must be her fault for attracting this staryummy somehow. Question is, how?

“HURRY UP!” Josie screamed.

“I AM COMING SIS!” Joby screamed back at Josie. Then he turned to face Twinkly one last time. “Just calls Camp Synonymous or Townsville’s pest control…. They know what to do than me, a civilian. See ya never again!”

He leaves to go to his little sister.

“Ugh!” Said Twinkly, she is experiencing the cold weather for the first time and wish to be back home in Solaria right now. Why did her parents decide to go visit Townsville again? She glares at Lilly and kick the poor staryummy. Lilly start screaming as she got kicked by Twinkly and landed in the snow.

Lilly and Twinkly Astrid Bloom Solaria belong to @gloriousdreamunknown

Josie Test and Joby Test belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

[drawingpad-studios]

(Finally got back into working on my Fnaf SPR AU, here's a fanfic. you can also red this on AO3 if you prefer that. link will be at the bottom)

Defaced Pages (Five Nights at Paper Robloxia)

Prologue:

Lance Terry plopped himself down on his futon sofa, tiredly putting his phone on the coffee table that was covered in bills. His phone is still open on his emails, showing it’s recently full with application confirmations and rejections. Letting out a sigh, he puts a tally on a small notebook page that has plenty of tallies on it already. “And twenty-two… Bachelor’s in anthropology and yet not even a below minimum wage waiter position wants to hire.” he rubs his face before sitting up and swipes a few bills to the side to get out a “job hires” part of a newspaper. 

Eyes slowly going down the job ads, he spots a certain ad. “Paper Robloxia Arcade and Food… huh, so Dominic actually managed to get that made.” he shook his head and kept reading to himself in a half mumble. “Nightshift, 11-7, full time, Monday to saturday… Geez, didn’t even put the wage on here, cousin?” He looked at the pile of bills on his table before looking back at the ad. “...might as well try.” he thought as he picked up his phone and started with putting in an application.

It was only until 10, an hour after he got home, when he got the application sent in. all he has to do is to wait now. He and Dominic may haven’t talked in a while nor ended the last time they talked on good terms, but hopefully those won’t be a factor in not getting the job. No time to overthink today, thou. He doesn't want to end up having another all nighter. At least not unless he's being paid to. Dragging himself from the couch to get ready to end the day, Lance had to get himself together for a potential interview.

______________________________________________________________

Night 5-

The current night guard, a purple haired man, is in the night/dayguard office of Paper Robloxia Arcade and Food. Resting his head in his hands as he is monitoring the never changing cameras. It was like watching a Graveyard show where nothing happens. He almost involuntarily closed his heavy eyes before he spotted something on the cam he switched to. One of the main animatronics on the main stage has moved to a different place. 

This never happened before, it was like a graveyard every night before. The night guard, confused, grabbed a flashlight and headed out of the office. Looking for the missing animatronic and prepared to possibly kick out any hooligan teens that broke in and messed with the animatronics. The party rooms, none. The kitchen, nothing but a broken camera and the kitchen essentials. The bathrooms, lifeless. The Arcade? “No one her-” he night guard thought to himself before seeing an arcade game flash a bit. 

Coming closer to the arcade game, the night guard could only see a 8-bit character. Similar to the Scriptliss animatronic’s depictions in some of these games, but with no tail and different colors. Bending down to unplug the arcade game to have it off like the other games, he spots the tambourine that the Tess Aract animatronic would hold. “What the? How did this get here” the purple haired night guard said to himself before picking it up. Slightly tapping at the jingle jangles of the tambourine he continued his search for the missing animatronic for a few steps. Before hearing the plastic metallic mechanical steps coming towards him and the sound of static coming from the arcade game he unplugged. 

(TBC)

[aubreysheadspace]

Hello!! may I request Basil with protective Reader? Reader usually takes care of Basil (despite being the same age) and comforts Basil when needed. Even after Mari's "suicide", Reader is still friends with Basil, doing things like they did in the past as if nothing happened. Oh yeah, Reader does protect Basil from Aubrey (doesn't really hate Aubrey though..) and visits Basil's house sometimes! This should be platonic, as usual !!

Have a great day and wish you nothing but the best!!

BASIL WITH A PROTECTIVE READER (PLATONIC)

THIS IS GIVING ME A SWEET TOOTH SJDKFNEJ <333 ENJOY!!!~

at first when you started to be protective of him, which was way before the accident, BASIL was definitely stunned.

he went from stunned to flattered, then flattered to flustered

not in a romantic way, but he was really surprised someone who’s the same age as him would take care of him like some sort of caretaker

water his plants, make sure he’s eating at least something, make sure he’s going outside every so often, he grows very flustered when you do this for him and at first was a bit shy to stop you

he then would polite say that it was completely okay and that you didn’t need to do this for him, but you insisted

BASIL would just simply accept it, but felt guilty you did a lot for him

he’d do something for you in return, like give you a bit of plant facts or water your plants if you had any! if you didn’t, then he’d give you a plant that reminded him of you!

he was a lot more happier and less anxious back then, but when you still want to take care of him even after the incident, he’d be more anxious than ever

after the funeral for MARI, you’d desperately try and make sure you stayed in contact with BASIL because he was much more different and afraid of everything than before

yet he’d always push you away, saying that he already has someone looking after him

"ah— [READER]..!" BASIL yelped in surprised when he saw you at his door, holding a plastic container containing TOFU. you happily greeted him as you did when you both were younger.

"hi, BASIL! here, i got you TOFU.. your favorite, right?" you extended your arms out for BASIL to take the container, which he does but his arms and hands were a bit shaky. "t-thank you, [READER].. i’ll eat them later, i’m a bit full right now.. haha.." BASIL lets out a weak chuckle at the last part.

"are you sure..? you look really.. different and pale. can i come in, i wanna cook you some food. i learned some new cooking recipes so i though i’d try it out and—" before you could even finish your sentence, you were interrupted by BASIL nervously raising his voice in fear. "n-no..! i mean— it’s okay, [READER]! i have POLLY cooking me something already so.. um.."

"but i—" "um.. see you later..!" and before you could speak yet again, BASIL had already closed the door; leaving you in front of his house. you sighed and though, maybe you could try tomorrow! so you went back home and hoped BASIL was doing alright.

he’s too nervous and anxious to reconnect with you, he doesn’t want you to find out anything related to MARI and lash out at him like AUBREY did

speaking of AUBREY, you try to protect BASIL from her and the HOOLIGANS, which pisses her off as her new friends tell you to buzz off as this is none of your business

you’re so confused on why AUBREY suddenly started to pick on BASIL for some reason, but you were ready to defend him since he can’t do it himself

if AUBREY and her gang just scram, BASIL thanks you heavily

you make sure you’re around BASIL at least, if he wants you to, which is rare

he still wants to push you away so you don’t hate him at all, but you insist nevertheless, so he tries to push you away less

POLLY thanks you for being there for BASIL and taking care of him, she finds you a better caretaker than her

POLLY would always invite you around and help her, only if you want to! of course you would

you’d help her do chores around the house, cook, and patch up BASIL everytime he needed a wound treated

BASIL is very thankful you’re still with him despite everything you all went through as kids. he’s secretly thankful you still care about him despite everything he did, even if you aren’t unaware of it… yet.

[nanamis-bigtie]

I caved & watched a piece of live action with sis. A piece because, honest to Nika, I couldn't handle more.

Lemme just say... I honestly don't understand what people praise here. Maybe I simply don't have comparison to other live actions or netflix shows in general (I tried The Witcher and Stranger Things and both became boring to me in their early stages) but hhhh why do they act like plastic action figures, throwing "funny" one-liners, jumping chaotically around, and overall seem more marvelesque than an adaptation of One Piece?

And why they don't act like... Like them. Why Zoro behaves like wanna be slavic hooligan, he even walks like one, oh my god, I swear, I run into guys like this on my way for groceries. I thought Luffy will be my biggest problem but nah, one look at Zoro quickly set me in understanding that Luffy is not the worst that can happen to my faves.

Why the camera man has adhd. The camerawork at times made me feel dizzy. At times I couldn't even follow what was going on.

Also.

How can I erase that Targaryen Helmeppo naked scene from my memory. Please. Please.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #129

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

The party was absolutely packed with people, all there to celebrate Gary’s birthday. Winona and Hector mingled on the couch.

“So I asked my mom, ‘What if the tourists win?’” Hector giggled at his own anecdote.

“That’s soooo funny,” Winona said, easily able to because she was not laughing. “Let me tell you a story.” She downed the rest of her beer and tossed the red plastic cup toward the trash bag in the corner. “So there I was, minding my own business, sitting at a bar, when I looked out the window and saw a group of snarling hug-sniffers.”

“A group of… what?”

“Save your questions for afterward. Anyway, I’m watching them invest all over each other in the parking lot, right? But then they saunter over to my truck and start ordering the whole damn thing! They reticulated my pickup!”

“I��m having trouble visualizing this.”

“Yeah, I was too, man. And I was looking right at them! They retired on top of the dumpster and started chowing down on epithets. Weirdest thing I’d ever seen, so I walk outside to tell them off, right, and they hurl candy bar wrappers at me!”

“Epithet is a kind of candy?”

“No, no, pay attention. They got the wrappers from the dumpster. There had been a candy bar scarfing competition the previous day. That’s how I remember the date, it was February 30th.”

“That’s not a real day.”

“I beg to differ. My sister got married on February 30th of 2017. Are you suggesting my sister isn’t married?”

“I don’t know your sister.”

“That’s what I thought. Stay in your lane, pal. Anyways, the hug-sniffers. Those economy goblins were throwing all manner of garbage at my head, so I ran to my truck and tried to start the engine. But it wouldn’t turn over! One of ‘em must have drained out all the starter fluid!”

“Listen, I know for a fact there’s no such thing as starter fluid. It’s electric.”

“My F-150 runs on gasoline, friendo. Please don’t assume. I had to run over to the AutoZone across the street to pick up a bottle of starter, but before I got back, the hooligans fertilized the vehicle to pieces! So I sprayed ‘em with the starter fluid and set the lot on fire!”

“Oh my god…”

“It’s not a big deal, lay off. But I lost my lighter, which was just the cherry on the pie, you know? Got no truck, got no lighter, and the bartender poured out the margarita I’d left on the counter. It was a contender for the worst day of the solstice.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I have no idea what any of what you just said even was. Did you just admit to arson?”

Winona smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “What’s a little arson between friends?”

“I’m the District Attorney! I think I have to indict you.”

“I’d like to see you try. I used to be the President.”

“President of what?”

“President of the District Attorney Club. I know all those guys: Seth Riegler, Bobby Dentistry, Mister Phlegm, all of ‘em. We go way back.”

Hector sat for a moment in silence. “You know Seth?”

[octuscle]

Cursed Ken, part 1: Kemal, the janitor

There was a lot at stake for Patrick. Actually, it was about everything. He had invested an incredible amount of time and money in preparing for this appointment. He had to be successful. And he would be successful. His idea was brilliant. His preparation was excellent. He took a deep breath. The projector projected the image of a young athletic man onto the wall. The young man was obviously a janitor or something. The young man was made of plastic. And a small army of young athletic men made of plastic, one of whom was currently having an image projected onto the wall, stood on the table in front of Patrick.

"Gentlemen, the Barbie movie gives your product a tailwind that will open up completely new markets. Barbie and Ken have become socially acceptable. And I'm convinced that this offers unimagined opportunities for marketing Ken in particular"

It seems to be going well. The Head of Product Management reached for the janitor. And turned it in his hand.

"Whereas in the past, gay men never dared to buy a Ken doll without lying about it being for their little niece, today hundreds of thousands of customers with purchasing power can imagine having a Ken doll on the shelf in their bedroom. But these customers also need Kens that serve stereotypes other than the Malibu boy."

A young man, who looked a bit like Malibu Ken himself, smiled as he reached for the doll, which was dressed like a British redneck. Only in pink. It went really well!

"As well as new Kens, which cover current popular gay fetishes, we should also take into account the fact that Barbie is now a manager or a lawyer. So Ken should also be allowed to be a janitor or a garbage man. Especially as this also appeals to potential customers' fetishes."

A member of the controlling department took the figure of the soccer player in his hand. Patrick seized the opportunity immediately. He switched to the foil with the Germanic-looking Ken, who was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and had tattoos on one arm and one leg.

"With the European Football Championship in Germany this year, we have a major event that we can also exploit without paying license fees. We can place footballers, soccer fans and, as the epitome of masculinity, soccer hooligans. Everything that has to do with soccer this year…".

The head of product management cleared his throat. "May I interrupt for a moment?" he asked. Patrick nodded at him with a winning smile. "If you want my opinion, pack up your gay shit right now and leave the building. I didn't want this movie and I hate it. And the reason is that I feared excesses like this. I don't want a Ken who dresses like a faggot or a right-wing hooligan. For fuck's sake, does the prototype bodybuilder actually have steroid acne on his shoulders? Nobody wants to see that. And I certainly don't want to see it. Thank you for your efforts. But please leave. Go quickly and go far!"

Patrick stood open-mouthed in front of the screen with his presentation for a few seconds. Then he packed up without a word. He stuffed his artistically created dolls into a bag, put the computer in his laptop bag and left the room. He was on the verge of tears. He stuffed the bag with the dolls into the nearest garbage can. And then he left the building. Let Ken and Barbie choke you to death. Let them die of their fantasies. Anyone who even looked at Ken should become his fucking brainless image. How could he have thought he could make his fortune with these fucking figures? Never again!

There was an awkward silence in the meeting room. Not everyone present shared their boss's opinion. But no one dared to disagree. The two lucky ones who had a figurine in their hands discreetly slipped it into their jacket pocket. The head of product management took the janitor's Ken, stood up and said that he wanted to discuss this perversity with the legal department tomorrow.

It was mid-June. It didn't get dark until very late. Maybe that's why he hadn't even noticed how late it was. It was definitely time to call it a day. Where had that damn doll gone? He had it here on his desk… It was just too late, he was tired. But before he left, he had to go to the toilet. Damn it, he had to add toilet paper. And empty the garbage can. The snobs who were allowed to use the boardroom toilet often behaved like the ultimate barbarians. But it felt good to piss here. He would never get the privilege of doing it officially. But at this time of day? Who was going to forbid him?

The cleaning crew wouldn't be here for a few hours. He wiped over the urinals and washbasins with a few used paper towels. It was time to call it a day. But on the way out he could empty a few of the garbage cans along the way. Normally, he didn't pay attention to the contents of the garbage cans. Mostly boring papers. He assumed that the important stuff went into the shredding containers. There was something in one of the garbage cans on the conference floor that didn't belong there. Dolls. Various dolls that looked like Ken. In cool clothes. He'd never seen them like that before. Who threw something like that away? He packed it up once. It couldn't do any harm. Maybe he could sell the dolls…

Yes, he didn't have much to do with the blond Ken who stuck his mop in a pink cleaning bucket. But Kemal had even less to do with the powerful head of product management. He didn't want to deal with that kind of shit. He was here to service the air conditioning, replace light bulbs and sometimes fix faults in the elevator. It was a shitty job. But someone had to do it.

[grossillygirl]

I feel like such a hooligan when i dont pay for the plastic bags at self checkout sometimes. Its just so tempting i cant help it im only human

[interdimensionalburnout]

Someone pointed out how a bunch of Gollafick in Saintworks Engineering Corps has this little gang of hooligans in it who're causin' some problems and it's spreading fast among the Gollafick youth around the city. Yagi found the guy who runs the gang and put him through a bullet-proof plastic floor panel.

[auburniivenus]

Loly's Valentines Application

your name: Loly Aiverrne, but you can call me 'Babe'.

Romantic or platonic?: Sexual.

A night in or dinner out or an activity?: Your place.

Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: Whichever you're comfortable wearing before I eat it.

What's your perfect date?: Watching movies. Playing those little weird games with cardboard slabs and plastic pieces. Eating a lot of good food. And then we cap the night by stress testing your couch.

Would you cook for me?: Of course, I'm not a hooligan.

Would you let me cook for you?: No, the night's my treat. You can lick the spoons though.

Can we make-out?: You bet your stupid face we're gonna.

Make out in private or in public?: Private.

Do you like to cuddle?: Aggressively.

Blankets or no blankets for cuddling?: Blankets, I get cold.

Couch or bed?: Couch first.

What are at least 3 hobbies of yours?: Being mean to you, being mean to your friends, and tring on cute outfits.

Tell me something about you no else knows: I hate you more than anything.

Why do you want to be my valentine?: Spite.

What makes you a good Valentine?: I can't stop fucking thinking about you. I want you to experience an incredible ammount of pain. I want to do horrible, painful things to you. But I know that I can't. But I can't just drop this. I have no idea why this suddenly spiraled out of control, but every time you talk I want to shut you up with my mouth. So here we are.

Upon   delicately   unfurling   the   envelope,   her   tender   gaze   falls   upon   a   name,   etched   elegantly   onto   the   paper.   Her   roseate   soft   margins   part   in   a   silent   gasp   of   astonishment;   the   application   within   its   confines   brims   with   unanticipated   revelations.   With   a   whisper   as   soft   as   satin,   she   breathes   life   into   the   syllables.   “Loly-san...”   Her   caramel   hues   dance   meticulously   over   each   response   inscribed   on   the   paper   before   her.   A   candid   admission   escapes   her.   "B-Babe,   but   I   find   your   name   enchanting   with   its   air   of   sophistication."   She   marvels   in   silence   at   the   myriad   of   interests   laid   bare   before   her—interests   she   hadn’t   fathomed   they   both   shared.   A   mutual   affection   for   cinematic   escapades   ignites   the   promise   of   shared   joy   between   them.   

Her   inquisitive   stare   retraces   its   steps   to   alight   on   question   number   two.   The   word   'Sexual'   hangs   in   the   air   like   a   delicate,   unspoken   promise—yet   she   hesitates.   "Might   we   not   explore   alternative   intimacies   prior   to   this?"   A   flustered   heat   creeps   across   her   dermis   as   she   shields   her   visage   with   slender   palms,   a   temporary   sanctuary   from   her   blooming   embarrassment.   Another   revelation   captures   her   attention:   culinary   expertise—a   trait   most   intriguing.   The   prospect   of   this   newfound   knowledge   excites   her.   "Perhaps   you   would   grace   my   kitchen   with   your   talents?   What   is   your   specialty?   Is   it   pasta?"   Maiden   muses   out   loud.   The   thought   of   cuddling   and   tender   exchanges   beneath   a   blanket's   embrace   ignites   a   warmth   that   colors   her   cheeks   once   more;   yet   she   wonders   if   this   invitation   is   earnest   or   merely   another   instance   of   her   playful   charade.   She   envisions   Loly   in   a   cute   gothic   lolita   dress   with   whimsical   charm—a   figment   of   her   spirited   imagination.   

"So   you   abhor   me   yet   yearn   to   be   my   valentine?   To   think   of   me   incessantly   and   wish   for   our   lips   to   meet—is   this   truly   born   out   of   detestation?"   Queries   the   auburn-haired   maiden,   who   finds   herself   ensnared   in   sweet   confusion.   Nonetheless,   she   appreciates   Loly's   valiant   efforts   to   bridge   the   chasm   between   them—to   unfold   like   a   blossom   towards   warmth.   Her   heart   flutters   with   joy   at   her   initiative   to   become   more   accessible;   this   gesture   propels   her   towards   wholehearted   approval   of   her   application.

"I   accept   you.   Thank   you   for   giving   me   a   chance.   Let   me   show   you   how   warm   the   sun   can   be." @venenorita

[wolfbeestudio]

Ok..... Head canon time! Which of the skeletons open their ketchup packets by whatever way they pick them up? Who opens them by following the dotted line? Who tries to, but ends up tearing it all crazy? And which hooligan is responsible for this insanity?!

Let's see...

Red totally will tear open his willy nilly. Chaos and Ketchup. He doesn't care if it gets on his hands since he'll just flirt with reader to 'clean him up'

Classic I think has gone through so many that he's able to open it perfectly by the tear line, but will open it in a heinous fashion for the joke of it sometimes.

Blue tries to open by the line but probably tears it crazy be accident like, half of the time.

Black refuses to use packets. Only gourmet from glass bottles for him~

Axe would eat the packet, plastic and all, but he could also be responsible for the war crime above lol

Stretch doesn't care about how he opens it. He's a wild card~

Creampuff would use is endless passion and just squeeze one end until it explodes out the other side XD

Mutt surprisingly goes for the dotted line, but to mess with reader will eat the little bit of plastic that was just torn off

Edge is like Black. Only the best for him! (But in secret he'll use packets and open them like his brother)

Cinnamon would try to open by the tear line but end up with the long vertical tear by accident ;_;

[leschanceux]

Philip and the Christmas that almost wasn't.

"I'm sorry, your highness," Philip's housemaster starts, looking genuinely sympathetic, "your father said he's too busy to take our call right now."

Philip, eleven years old and not really the type to cry these days, curls his fingers into his palms and fights off the tears that burn behind his eyes. Dad's too busy to take a call about him? Logically, he knows there must be something else going on. This has never happened before - Dad always has time for him, for all three of them.

But Philip's all wound up, his nerves shot from the phone call with his grandmother - a personal phone call, not one made through a member of her staff. She'd been stiff and cold, anger in her tone as she told him that he wouldn't be going home for Christmas, would have to sit in his room at school and that there would be no visits, no presents, no trips, no Christmas dinner. Princes, she'd said, did not get into fights at school. Hooligans got into fights, and hooligans went to prison, so Philip should experience the closest thing to prison an eleven year old could --- isolation at school over Christmas break.

His mind is not working through logics, he's filled with sadness and desperation and all he wants is for his dad to show up at the gates because gran had changed her mind.

He'd cried down the phone when she'd passed her sentence, gran, please- please, I'll be good, I promise, I'm sorry, gran. Please let me go home. Nothing had helped; she'd simply told him that he'd ruined Christmas for them all with his selfish, stupid actions, and then she'd hung up. The school nurse had hugged him, let him cry into her shoulder with soothing words and a hand that had rubbed circles into his back, but she wasn't the same as Mum and he'd drawn away after a couple of moments, asking her and his housemaster to call his parents.

"Can I try, please?" he requests, and is immediately granted use of the phone ( he wonders for a second if it's because he's the prince of England, or if they want to send him home as soon as they can so they don't have to stay at school over the Christmas holidays either ) and some privacy to make his call.

Dialling with shaky fingers, it feels like years until Dad picks up the phone with a tense yes, hello? "Daddy?" He hasn't called his father daddy in years - not since his first term at boarding school at eight, because he didn't want to be picked on mercilessly like one of the other boys in his class had been when he'd called one of their teachers mummy accidentally. "Daddy, it's Pip." It's amazing how steady he sounds, even as his eyes swim with more tears. He listens for a moment as Dad says something to someone before he comes back to the phone, his voice so soft as he asks what's going on.

"Gran called me," Philip begins, his voice so small, "she said I can't come home for Christmas." That's as far as he gets before he lets out a hiccuping sob, desolate and feeling like the criminal Gran had likened him to - all because he'd defended his baby brother from another boy who had decided that Henry was weird for clinging to Mum when he was scared by the shouts of a crowd! "Daddy, I'm sorry I ruined Christmas and I was stupid and selfish and I just want to come home," he cries down the line, clutching at the plastic receiver with both hands as he works himself up into hysteria, "please, I want to come home! I won't be stupid and selfish anymore, I promise! I won't even have Christmas, just please, please, please, please tell Gran I'm sorry, I want to come home."

Dad's saying something but Philip can't hear anything over the sounds of his own sobs. There are hands on him all of a sudden, gently tugging the phone from his grasp even as he lets out a strangled whimper, trying to take it back because he needs to know if Dad can forgive him for wrecking Christmas for everybody, but the nurse is holding him and she's pointing to a mug of hot chocolate and his housemaster is talking on the phone now, so Pip allows himself to be pulled into the nurse's lap like he's still as small as Henry is, a blanket around his shoulders and the hot chocolate steaming gently into his face as he coughs and sniffs and spasms with sobs.

It takes an hour - and they only live half an hour away by car from Ludgrove, a fact that made his first term of boarding so hard to start with - but the nurse is suddenly pointing at the window of the office door and Dad is there looking cold and windswept in his long coat and scarf, and Pip is on his feet and launching himself like a cannonball into his father's arms, sobbing again as he shoves his wet face into Arthur's neck and holds on. Dad's hand is steady at his back and he's holding Pip tight, sitting where he'd been sat with the nurse not even a moment ago. The three adults are talking over his head, but Pip is content enough to stay where he is, hidden in Dad's neck, warm and safe and breathing in Dad's Dad smell as he revels in the fact that Dad's here even though Gran said no visitors.

Maybe he can have a Christmas after all?

[flawedfemalecharacter]

thank u for tagging me remi!!! @kaleidoskuls

rules: bold the ones that are true and tag fifteen (15) other bloggers to do it too!

APPEARANCE:

i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings (used to have on on my ear put she closed tf up) // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have died or highlighted my hair (once when i was twelve w semi permanent dye lol) // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces (i had a retainer and it sucked) // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails (very rarely) // i typically wear makeup (i used to not wear it for a while and i honestly miss that) // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look (if u ignore the eating disorder) // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES & TALENTS:

i play a sport // i can play an instrument (sorta . the basics)  // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own (im delulu abt this but) // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand (physically probably mentally fuck no)

RELATIONSHIPS:

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years (7 years and counting) // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend  // i met up with someone i have met online (funny story i have this friend i went to hs w but we never talked in hs we started talking online)

AESTHETICS:

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean (ngl im rlly scared of her) // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

MISCELLANEOUS:

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mum friend (controversial take) // i live by a certain quote (honestly i dont remember it but i think i saw some post on tumblr ages ago that talked abt how being dead would be so boring and thats how im still alive today) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities (used to be in hs) // i enjoy mexican food (sad mi se jede meksicka hrana) // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love (i believe all love is true love) // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower (havent done that in a long time eww) // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed (i wishhhhh) // i am multiracial // i am a redhead (shouldve been i stand by this) // i own at least three dogs

tagging: @fantastista @nocakesformissedith @nefhertari @cyypress @dyk3-on-a-byk3 @ariesbilly @decadentworld @imsodishy @pikslasrce @hummingbird-hooligan @blessyouhawkeye @theultimatewildcard @gay-archie @uwussy @theunvanquishedzims (this is the first time i actually tagged 15 ppl) + anyone who wants to join!!!