As much I love the creative ways people use the horror trope of innocent childhood things turned evil in games(Fnaf, Bendy, Hello Puppets, Andy's Apple Farm, even Poppy Playtime), the one thing I like about them is that they use original characters inspired by already existing ones instead of using memorable childhood figures such as Winnie the Pooh, Bambi, and the Banana Splits going bad and killing people.
Sooo I was on google just messing around, looking at Banana Split content because the silly furry bastards have my brain in a death grip- and I found a petition
It started in 2021, so like big oof, but its a petition towards a making of a second Banana Splits movie!!! NOW HERE ME OUT, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU- I see this movie get a lot of hate, and I get your point, when this movie came out I'm pretty sure the Splits were long gone and forgotten, so a horror movie is a bad way to reboot it. BUT- it was probably bound to happen eventually- Cartoons being turned into monstrosities uhh
*stares at Pibby, Blood & Honey, and the weird shit going on with Steamboat Willy*
That shit seems to be whats big- Plus, I'd like to mention that as much as I LOVE this movie, they really could have done a better job with it. Which is why I'd really like to see a second movie, done, they could put so much more effort into it!! Even if the petition doesn't do shit, I still support it purely because I like the very idea of us getting another movie
Here, if there are any other fans of the movie who wanna sign:
Poppy allowed me to wear her costume for a while on Halloween & I even saved a young girl from bullies because the 3 older kids were so scared of the costume. One of the bully tripped and scraped her knee all of the bully was hurt and it was so fun XD
7th Century - spinach, kimchi ⚜ 9th - coffee, nutmeg
10th Century - flower waters, Peking duck, shark's fin soup
11th Century - baklava, corned beef, cider, lychees, seitan
12th Century - breadfruit, artichokes, gooseberries
13th Century - ravioli, lasagne, mozzarella, pancakes, waffles, couscous
14th—19th Century
14th Century - kebabs, moon cakes, guacamole, pie, apple pie, crumpets, gingerbread
15th Century - coconuts, Japanese sushi and sashimi, pineapples, marmalade, risotto, marzipan, doughnuts, hot dogs
16th Century - pecans, cashews (in India), Japanese tempura, vanilla (in Europe), fruit leather, skim milk, sweetbreads, salsa, quiche, teriyaki chicken, English trifle, potato salad
17th Century - treacle, pralines, coffee cake, modern ice cream, maple sugar, rum, French onion soup, cream puffs, bagels, pumpkin pie, lemonade, croissants, lemon meringue pie
18th Century - root beer, tapioca, French fries, ketchup, casseroles, mayonnaise, eggnog, soda water, lollipops, sangria, muffins, crackers, chowder, croquettes, cupcakes, sandwiches, apple butter, souffle, deviled eggs
100 antagonists(or adjacent) characters with more trauma than Tomura Shigaraki except I'm lazy and only made it to 83, but know that this is almost every villain I know off the top of my head
Can you do Eddie and Frank from welcome home taking care of a regressor reader after a bad day?
Thank you! 👋😃
Enjoy this fic of ur queer caregivers anon 😃
Settled Down in Blankets and Affection
CG!Eddie Dear, CG!Frank Frankly, + Little!Reader
To think a trek through the forest would’ve been a pleasant evening; too bad your bruised knee and aching bones proved the idea wrong. If you even paid attention to your surroundings, you could’ve avoided tripping on a particularly arched root. The dust still stuck to your body no matter how hard you wipe yourself off.
Defeated, you escape the trees into the welcoming town of Home. The sight of a ruby house and its blooming backyard greets you kindly. Although reassuring, you remember Julie’s busy helping Poppy bake a new recipe for banana muffins. A little less joyful, you step onto the smooth path connecting every building.
While you know you can go left and patch up in the comfort of your house, your pained limbs convince your tired heart to take the right. Frank didn’t make plans last time you checked, and their house is only a few steps away. Plus, with the way you’re handling things, a break would surely help you regress.
Knock knock. You didn’t account for your knuckles to hurt after a simple action, and it doesn’t help the pain from your fall earlier. In a short burst of time - you swore it was longer - Frank opens the door, any words in their mind disappearing as they notice your rough looks.
“Y/N,” they lead you into the living room while anxiously inspecting your disheveled appearance, “what happened?”
“I tripped,” confesses the exhausted little. The answer seems sufficient to Frank, though they hesitate to dismiss their worry. A slight sigh leaves the gray puppet, followed by an imitation sigh you playfully created.
“I’ll have you patched up, Bumblebee,” Frank mumbles, gently guiding you to the kitchen and sitting you on a chair. The frowny caregiver digs through a couple cabinets before revealing a metallic first aid kit. After some rummaging, they take a square bandaid and return to your side.
“Sorry it’s not as colorful as you’d like,” comments Frank as they peel the paper back off the bandaid. With careful precision, the bandage is applied correctly over your scrape. For the final touch, they place a loving kiss on your knee, earning a giggle out of you.
“Hey, Frank, ya mind if i take my lunch break here? We can invite Y/N too if-“
Eddie, entering through the door just now, pauses mid-sentence to spot you already inside. He could’ve sworn you were off in the forest, but maybe you went to Frank’s house for something. In fact, his spouse starts explaining why you’re here; too bad he ignores it when he sees your bandaid and rushes next to you.
“My goodness! Y/N, are ya okay?!” overly-worries Eddie, holding your face and checking you twice over.
“They’re fine now, Dear, the scrape’s patched up,” Frank reasoned with a pat on the mailman’s shoulder.
The panicked man nearly disputes this, yet both caregivers stop their discussion when you whine a little out of nowhere. Eddie instinctively pulls you into a hug, one of caring yet underlying anxiety. You barely melt into his embrace; you’d regress younger if your feet could even touch the ground.
“What’s wrong, Bumblebee?” the loving mailman voices in worry.
“Wan’ bed,” you explain, albeit withdrawn compared to your usual self.
“I’ll get their gear if you’d like, Eddie.”
“Thanks, Frank,” he kisses his spouse’s cheek as his arms scoop you up, “I’ll take care of our little one.”
Splitting up, Eddie carries you upstairs into the guest bedroom - it’s definitely your room whenever you’re little. After he sets you down onto the king-sized bed, he hovers over to a dresser and picks out some yellow pajamas. The top has three black stripes, while the pants are adorned with many small bees flying around.
“Bumblebees,” you point out.
“That’s right, they’re little bumblebees,” praises Eddie while he changes your shirt, “just like you.”
Now in a fuzzy and buzzy set of pajamas, you burrow beneath the emerald covers. The light blanket settles on top of you as you sit criss cross applesauce. Eddie coos at the adorable sight, tussles your hair a little, and sits to your left. You lean against him, only for loving arms to lift you onto your caregiver’s lap. Words can’t describe what you feel; in fact, words aren’t even in your mind. A baby like yourself can’t speak full sentences right now.
The floor’s soft creaks draw your gaze to the opened door where Frank’s standing, bee backpack in tow.
“How’s our Little One doing?” They join you and Eddie on the bed.
“As cute as always,” he teases, hugging you close. “I don’t think they’ll speak, though.”
“Did you check how old they currently are?”
“Well,” Eddie loosens his arm’s grip around you as he rubs the back of his neck, “I forgot to ask…”
“. . .”
Frank silently takes you from the mailman’s lap while squinting at him.
“Dee,” you mumble, trying to say Eddie’s name.
“Your Dee doesn’t remember well, does he, Bumblebee?” Frank jests, taking their turn to wrap their arms around you.
“That’s unfair, honey,” playfully bemoans Eddie. Regardless, Frank plants a kiss on his cheek.
“How old are you, Y/N? Use your fingers if you can’t speak.”
You raise two fingers in clear view of your caregivers.
“Two? Wow, you’re so big!” Eddie gushes. Meanwhile, Frank rummages through your regression backpack.
“Let’s see… Do you want your pacifier?” they prompt you. As they talk, they bring out a paci with a lavender shield, white button, and black handle. You shake your head, causing Frank to return the item inside the bag. “How about your teether?” A gel-filled butterfly teether is shown to you, yet you refuse again.
“If you don’t want either,” they dig deeper inside the bee backpack, “what about your bottle?” One of your hands reaches out for the baby bottle, which is tinted royal purple.
“Aww, they’re thirsty,” Eddie smiles softly, picking up the bottle. “I’ll fix ya a warm bottle of milk, baby,” he explains to you. “Keep them company!”
While he’s gone, Frank rocks you back and forth. The rhythm winds you down, and you snuggle into their chest.
Not long after, you’re back in Eddie’s lap again. He holds you loosely as Frank bottle feeds you. Both of their eyes display a vibrant amount of love for you, and of course they would - you’re their baby bumblebee.