#WAWAWA I LOVE THEM

[oh-theatre]

And what if I rewatch every starkid musical, what’re u going to do

#WAWAWA I LOVE THEM #MAYBE ILL GO BACKWARDS #musical theatre #theatre #musical #starkid #youtube #avpm #avps #avpsy #a very potter senior year #a very potter musical #a very potter sequel #Black Friday #twisted #twisted the untold story of a royal vizier #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #starship #holy musical b@man #Firebringer #trail to Oregon

[harukapologist]

FuuHaru beach date (because I'm currently writing a fic with that, hah)

Feel absolutely free to let it have romantic undertones rather than platonic

Thank you for such a cute request! 💖 I hope this looks good, I love the idea of them going to the beach together and splashing about in the shallow water near the shore eheh

#OP I DIDNTKNOW YOU WROTE FICS.... ARE U GONNA SHARE IT?? IF SO CAN I READ IT #THANK YOU FOR THE LOVELY REQUEST WAAAA I LOVE THESE SILLIES #milgram #haruka sakurai #sakurai haruka #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #0301 #fuuharu #futaharu #do u think either of them know how to swim #this made me realize i suck at drawinf beaches i did my best wawawa

[unknownarmageddon]

pspsp,,,, I had another idea for a kross kissing fic,,,,,,,,, but more actual chocolate,,,,,

So like,,,, Hershey's Kisses.

Killer gets a little bag to satisfy his weird desire for sweet things and he gets the absolutely awesome idea of sharing them with crossy, BUT

Heres the kicker, they share them via kisses,,,,,,,

im just thinking about how quickly cross would melt into a happy little puddle,,,, and he settles against killer, all somft and cuddly and dazed from all the chocolatey kisses,, and killer pets em all gentle and is like "we should do this more often" and cross hums happily in agreement and he just,,,,, nuzzles killer's neck all sleepy and content and just ultimate fluff omg

Im gonna call it homo behaviour part 2,,,,

DUDE DUDE dude ohhh my god,,, absolutely holy crap

You can’t do this to me what the hell /pos/pos /lh

Dude I love that uwaaaaa,,,, Kross fluff my beloved,,,

#If you write this you are required to tag me /hj /nf #I love them immensely like #it’s midnight and my brain is half shut off but god damn do I love these gay skeletons #I am so unwell about them thank you for the banger ask and fic Chair wawawa /gen #answering asks #chair asks #Chair!! #Cross x Killer

[gojonanami]

i LOVE the idea of satoru's child just babbling nonsense and satoru going along with it LMAO

omg yes, walking in with the laundry basket and you hear babbling — not an unusual noise — but it isn’t your kid, it’s your husband.

“uh huh, bababa nanana,” satoru is nodding along, “I know I can’t believe mama did that,”

“Babababa! Wawawa, ah!” Your kid is pouting, looking up Satoru, as he nods even more emphatically, spouting more gibberish.

You chuckle, and it catches his attention, “what’s so funny sweetheart?” His lips curling in a small smile, “ever seen two intellectuals have a conversation?”

“More like two conspiracists sounding their complaints,” you walk over, sitting next to satoru, “isn’t that right, baby?” And your baby lights up, holding out arms for you to take them into your lap, “looks like you lost your partner, what to do?” You grin.

Satoru pouts before smiling slowly at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “good thing I have my favorite partner right here — and you put up with all my nonsense,” and he kisses your lips, flashing his wedding band, “it’s required.”

#sab [asks] #sab [anons] #fic: baby gojo #yeah it’s a tag now #edit; all based on real life convos with my baby nephew 🫣💕 #love that little stinker

[704-liveblog]

playing deltatraveler section 3 rn. first of all: KRIS EYE REVEAL ALREADY?? that was fast!! second!! kris told them about me already!?!? that feels so fast!! and so early!!! yknow!!! also!! did that vessel just go under the bed!!! is it still there!??? wawawa!!

anyway i love kris's face. theyve got eyeshadow and long lashes and i think thats very cool. good desigb choice :]

#delt of traveller #deltatraveler spoilers

[ohno-the-sun]

Yes I’m a funky guy and I have to ask, for each of your AU’s, what are Sun and Moon’s relationship?

(For example: are they brothers or lovers or enemies, strangers…ya know, those types of things?)

(I’m just curious and I don’t mean to offend you while asking)

I don't mind the question at all I love ranting about my AUs!

Mad scientist it kinda varies. They start out enemies / parasite and host relationship, but they kinda develop into being more commensal later on (kinda spoiler lol). Idk I'd ever consider them friends though

For crime au, magical girl au, and luca au they are brothers. I just like an angsty brotherly relationship wawawa.

Though both crime and luca they have been separated for a long time so they are basically strangers at this point and the whole story is them slowly getting to know each other again

Black swan they are ????. Sun is kinda hallucinating Moon but Moon might also be a real dancer she's really jealous of, but also they have a small one off romantic thing but that may just represent Sun coming to terms with more adult thoughts, but she also kinda really hates Moon and tries to kill her, but also that might be her killing herself trying to be perfect-

its a whole mess

#ask #fnaf daycare attendant #luca au #black swan au #mad scientist au #crime au #magical girl au #I just like whatever relationship is most entertaining #and fitting for the story #also bonus base robot dca from the pizzaplex #I have their relationship as strangers #they have no memory transfer between the two modes and they have to find ways to communicate and slowly get to know the other #which gets disrupted by the virus #and makes their relationship worse #eventually they make up again but its a loooooong process

[dayurno]

recently reread ur de-aged kevin fic and in the end notes you said you were thinking of doing a sequel w neilandrew being de-aged and just wanted to throw my hat in the ring to say yes pls! you genuinely have such incredible writing and characterization and would LOVE to see your take on it!

wawawa i plan to write it!!!!! i did start a little bit after finishing de-aged kevin and had to scrap it off because i didn't like it, so it might take a little longer. nonetheless i feel like i have no reason not to share it so i'll attach under the cut the scrapped version of kevin with de-aged andreil for your enjoyment :=) if its a little wonky i ask that you bear with me theres a reason why i didnt keep this version

//

There is a little garden behind Fox Tower where you could fit a dead body without any real effort.

Not that Kevin would know, of course. But he is sure that he has never seen anyone besides himself tend to the ground there — perhaps once in the past there was another athlete who enjoyed gardening, but such a character has not been around for at least a few years. It took Kevin almost an entire week to entirely weed out the square of dirt between Fox Tower’s backdoors and the fence where Palmetto State University property ends and Fox Perimeter starts. 

Despite the loneliness of it, the ground is quite fertile; as patches of earth left alone by humankind often are. No one ever comes with Kevin when he gardens — Andrew finding it too soft a hobby and Neil, too pointless —, so there is no worry about someone else intervening with his flowers. Worlds apart from Evermore, Kevin quite enjoys the alone time tending to this garden provides, so he makes a habit out of it. 

He’s not sure how well he is doing. His first attempt had been to plant daylilies, because the name had amused him and they were considered beginner plants, offending as the thought is. Daylilies, Kevin’s come to find, are low-maintenance, highly resistant and pest-free — three things Kevin cannot relate to, despite them sharing a surname. Those turned out fine, but one cannot go wrong with daylilies; they’re too easy. The only way Kevin could’ve killed them is if he was an absolute moron.

His second attempt — and the one he is currently keeping a close watch on — were tulips. They’re harder to care for than their predecessors, and take up more of Kevin’s time than he had previously imagined, though he doesn’t fault them for it. He’d gotten seeds from a shop a few blocks down to where Andrew usually buys his cigarettes in Columbia, and hadn’t bothered to ask for more information; Kevin’s first mistake, he realizes.

His tulips have… multiplied. Perhaps too much — hopeless, Kevin sits amidst the rows and rows of golden ladies, dainty-looking but quite surely outnumbering him, and wonders how many more of them could cause a natural imbalance in the area. For how they spread over the garden, Kevin is not sure he wants the answer. Their yellow bulbs seem to mock him. 

Deciding this is now above him, Kevin wipes the dirt from his knees and springs up. He breaks the stem of a few tulips that have already bloomed, mindful that they must reserve their energy for a future reblooming, and checks for rotten bulbs before leaving. Surely, with time, his little garden will recover well enough so that it is not fully covered in tulips. Surely he’ll be able to plant something else, then.

If anything, Kevin is at least happy they don’t have thorns. Gathering the handful of flowers he’d cut off, he returns to his dorm, mindlessly wondering to himself if they have a vase wide enough to fit all of these tulips. When their whiny door pushes open under his weight, Kevin announces his arrival by calling out, “Do we still have that big vase from last year?”

No reply. Frowning, Kevin settles his flowers on the kitchen counter and glances over to where Andrew’s wallet and keys sit at their coffee table, even his half-finished pack of cigarettes left untouched. It is highly unlikely for Andrew to leave without at least one of those three items, creature of habit he is. How weird.

Grabbing for his phone, Kevin sees a flash of motion from the corner of his eye, and is just quick enough to sidestep a little body hiding behind the back of their sofa. The idea of something as small as this just hanging around their dorm is so baffling Kevin can hardly compute it, communication between his eyes and his brain coming to a screeching stop as he takes in the sight in front of him.

There’s a child. There’s a — there’s a child. 

He is quite small. His hair, a gentle wheat-like thing, curls softly over his forehead, leading down to big, round brown eyes and a thin mouth. The child’s face is very tender, his cheeks flushed from exertion, but he does not meet Kevin’s stare with any such feeling — instead, his eyes widen slightly, and he stumbles back like he’s been hit.

For a moment, Kevin even worries he hasn’t sidestepped as well as he thought and indeed had hit this child on accident. Taking a few steps back himself, Kevin asks, “Who are you?”

It seems like the kind of question the child should ask him, instead of the opposite. The little boy tilts his head back to look at Kevin — and he does have to tilt it very far —, before steeling himself to answer, “I’m—I think I live here now?”

“That…” Kevin hesitates, “can’t be right.” The child’s eyes water slightly. Growing more and more panicked by the minute, Kevin immediately retracts it. “But I’m sure it is, if you’re saying it.”

The tears don’t fall, but they don’t quite recede either; the little boy's face is so fair it starts to look splotchy soon enough, red dusting his nose and cheeks. “Are you my new brother?” He asks, with all the certainty of someone who’s had many new brothers before. A nagging chill runs up Kevin’s spine.

“I don’t believe I am, since I don’t have any siblings,” Kevin limits himself to replying. He crouches down to meet the child’s stare, eyeing his tulips from above his head. Kevin really needs to get that vase soon; it’s not good for them to be out in the open like this. “Can you tell me your name? Why are you here? Where are your parents?”

The little boy eyes him suspiciously. He answers none of Kevin’s questions, but he informs, “There was another little boy too.”

“Right. Well,” Kevin stumbles a bit, unsure of what to say — and what to believe in, even. Children often see things that aren’t there for adults; he does not want to see any manner of spirit today. Or any other day. “Can you go get him for me? Then I can help you figure out what you’re doing here.”

“What else… can I be doing here?” The child asks, frowning lightly. “This is a new home. They��at the last one, they didn’t want me. And I have to be somewhere.”

Recognition shivers through Kevin. “I see,” he replies past the lump in his throat. “I think I might understand. The—the little boy that you mentioned, did he have blue eyes? And, and red hair?”

Andrew crinkles his little nose. “Was orange, not red.”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. “I understand it now.” Kevin’s thighs tremble too much for him to hold his crouch, so he sits back on his heels, kneeling at Andrew’s height. “How old are you? If you don’t mind.”

Andrew blinks at him for a moment too long before showing Kevin his spread palm — it is unbearably small, chubby, and quite pale, too. “I’m five,” he says.

And he is. He is five years old. He is very five years old by the looks of it, which is not the age Andrew Minyard should be, because before Kevin left for his garden, he was pretty sure the Andrew he left behind was twenty-one. 

“You’re five. Okay. That makes sense. Of course,” Kevin babbles, having gone half-stupid from shock. That this could be happening to him — that it could be happening to them again, after Kevin had spent a week of last month being six years old and with no recollection of it. What kind of rotten cosmic joke is this? “I see. Okay, well, let me just—” He rubs a hand across his face. “Hello, I’m Kevin. I am a collegiate athlete. That means I play Exy for a university. Have you heard of it?”

“Exy is on the TV all the time,” Andrew counters, but it seems to be all that he knows. He looks a little hesitant before he nods; tight and anxious. “Hi. I’m Andrew Doe.”

Without a surname makes one a John Doe. Kevin’s heart squeezes. “Hello, Andrew,” he greets, trying to work his face into something gentler. “I understand what you mean now. You called it a new home, correct? It’s not like that. I think what happened here is…”

“Do you work for my father?” A small voice cuts Kevin’s sentence short. He whips his head around to meet a boy a good few inches taller than Andrew leaning against the doorway of their bedroom, his hair a light ginger. When Kevin’s eyes meet his, Neil — Nathaniel? — hunches in on himself in self-reproach, placing little hands in front of his head. “Sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

Kevin blinks. “No,” he answers, softening his voice. This is—this is not the time to doubt whether gentleness is achievable or not; this is the time to force it until it breaks, or until it gives. “I don’t work for your father. I’ve never even met him before.”

 Neil pales. Perhaps the idea that someone does not know his father seems outlandish when Neil has been raised under his dominion — Kevin is sure it feels that way, for Neil to look so stricken.  Often when you are this small and your parents are the overlords of your world, it feels strange to learn that they are not the end-all-be-all of everyone else’s.  

Like a little tour guide, Andrew steps forward to explain, “I think you might be here because your mom and dad went away and children have to live somewhere.” 

…Of course, being five years old, his understanding of the situation is about as good as Kevin had expected. Andrew’s explanation of the foster system is fairly good, all things considered, but too realistic for a child his age. He should, at least, still believe that they mean to find him a family instead of sending him from home to home because there is nowhere else for him to be.

Neil pales even further. “Is that true?”

“Is true. Is what happened to me.”

“Alright, alright,” Kevin intervenes at last, and two pairs of eyes turn to him; both hesitant in their own way. He coughs into his fist, deciding that honesty is the easiest route. “To be frank with both of you, I’m not sure why you’re here, either. But… thank you, Andrew, for trying to explain it.”

The little Andrew’s face does something unguarded and surprised before he looks away, blushing lightly.

Kevin keeps his eyes trained to his tulips. “I don’t know what happened for you to get here, but you’re welcome to stay until we can figure this out.”

He is eyed with suspicion from both sides. “I,” Neil shakily starts, the beginning of a meltdown creeping into his voice, “I want my mama. Where is she?”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin replies, and finds that he means it, “I don’t know. If I knew, I’d take you to her.”

He would do no such thing, but it is important to say it, anyway.

Springing upwards before Neil can bring out the waterworks, Kevin takes a few steps next to where he’d put aside his tulips and returns with one in each hand. “Here,” he says, kneeling to their height again. “Want a flower? I just got them from the garden.”

Andrew’s hand reaches for it, but does not bridge the distance, hesitant. Neil doesn’t even try to get it. “Flowers are for girls,” he tells Kevin. 

“Hm. Do I look like a girl to you?”

“Yes.”

Kevin supposes that was a mistake on his part. It’s always the hair with children. “Well, I’m not,” he argues — argues! — with five-year-old Neil. “It’s very rude to not accept a gift.”

Neil eyes him, squinting quietly. He takes a few steps closer, looking more relaxed now that he’s figured Kevin is not working for his father. Coaxingly, Kevin offers one of the tulips in his direction — the bigger one, standing proud and yellow and delicate. It took a great effort for them to look this healthy. “These are called golden ladies. They’re perennials — that means they grow no matter the season. I plant them myself.”

A little hand curls around the stem of the smallest of Kevin’s tulips, catching it with all the clumsy delicacy of children who have yet to learn a finer touch. Letting Andrew take it, Kevin's mouth twitches. “Don’t worry about thorns, there’s none.”

He doesn’t mention the eco-system smasher Kevin had accidentally become in the process. Hopefully, no one notices the terrifying increase of tulips in Palmetto for the upcoming springs. 

Andrew doesn’t answer him, eyes trained to the tulip. The yellow of the inner petals matches the pale of his hair; makes him look more flower than child. Sweet, sweet boy.

Kevin turns back to Neil. “Won’t you take it even if you don’t like them? I don’t have a vase yet. I’m afraid they’ll just rot if you don’t take them.” This is a lie — but it’s a fair one. Children shouldn’t be so restrained.

The idea of imminent destruction seems to convince Neil to walk the distance between himself and Kevin to take the flower in his little hand. He says nothing. Kevin can’t tell if he likes it at all — he’s so put-upon.

A little hand flutters in the general direction of Kevin’s head. “Why is your hair…” Andrew asks. 

“What? Long?” The child nods. “What’s wrong about it?”

“It shouldn’t be like this.”

Well, that’s rude. Kevin huffs softly under his breath, absent-mindedly combing his fingers through his hair. “When I was a little over your age, I had a friend — a brother — who liked my hair like this. I think I just grew used to it.” 

It’s not the full story, of course. He can’t tell them about Riko, and how much of his preferences Kevin had taken as law out of admiration, at first, then fear, later on. He can’t explain, either, that his hair staying this way is his own way of mourning — a childhood left unfinished, a little boy abused into the insanity of Riko’s final years, brotherhood yet to be tainted by blood and jealousy. Children this young can’t tell Kevin carries all the marks of the grieving. 

“Oh,” Andrew replies. He looks like he wants to ask some more, but he doesn’t. 

“I can teach you how to braid it later, if you want,” Kevin offers. He has not even a sliver of a clue about what children should do in their free time. In his time, his mother took him all around the world during her trips, which didn’t usually leave Kevin much time for playing; then, after she died, Exy consumed most of his time between little league and Tetsuji’s endurance bootcamp. “It’s a useful skill. You can impress your future wife with it.”

He knows well enough that Andrew is never, ever going to get a wife; still, Kevin knows no other way to frame the importance — or, rather, mask the lack thereof — of this to him.  

Andrew nods politely. He, for one, is taking this much better than Neil seems to be — for good reason, Kevin imagines. Already registered in the foster system, Andrew must be used to adapting to new homes, new siblings, new adults with an eccentric knack for gardening and haircare. He’s indulging Kevin. A five-year-old!

“Well,” Kevin clears his throat, suddenly a little embarrassed. “Are you hungry? It should be almost lunchtime.”

No answer. It’s almost like dealing with the adults Andrew and Neil again.

Lunch is bland and unimaginative; Kevin follows the recipe obsessively, unwilling to make children choke down trash. It’s one thing for their adult selves to indulge Kevin in his lack of culinary talent, but children don’t yet have the taste buds for experimental food, nor the desire to put up with their caretakers’ inability to cook. More than once he resists the urge to add more spice — or even more salt. 

While he cooks, Kevin allows Andrew and Neil to get acquainted with each other. They talk quietly, eyeing the other with no less suspicion they eyed Kevin with, and seem happy to do their own thing. Skittish, for sure: but can they be blamed for it? Kevin doesn’t expect them to hit it off immediately, especially with Neil’s under-socialization. In the week or so Kevin should have them, it is likely they’ll progress on that front. 

Polite like a trained dog, Andrew waits by the kitchen doorway to help Kevin with setting the table. He’s far too small for such a task — he’ll drop any glassware Kevin gives him. Still, unwilling to let the child feel useless, Kevin asks him to set some napkins and cutlery out. Yes, that should be enough.

“Thank you, Andrew,” he says when he is done finishing up on their plates. Looking at the portions, Kevin is inclined to think they are far too much for someone of their size, but he doubts either have had access to an unrestricted meal in quite a while. At their age, Kevin knows he hadn’t. “It is very kind of you to help with the table.”

Andrew tilts his head towards his food without comment. He is almost unnervingly polite. It’s not the Andrew Kevin knows, and the contrast feels scathing.

Despite the children’s best efforts, their meal is not quiet. Kevin is not good with children, but he likes to think he is good with Andrew and Neil — as good as one can be, anyway. He prompts them into conversation by asking questions about their interests, their lives, their routines; half of it is trying to figure out how to care for these two, and the other half is emulating a chewed-out memory of how Kayleigh used to talk to him. 

She was never the kind of parent who baby-talked to Kevin. As soon as he was able to, she tried to engage him in conversation — however loose that concept can be for a five-year-old. Kayleigh, from what he remembers of her, had the ability to make anyone feel listened to; Kevin doesn’t remember ever doubting she cared for his childish babbling about toys and daycare, even if nostalgia had colored the memory a soft mouth-pink. He only wishes he would’ve gotten at least half of her social adeptness. From Kayleigh, all Kevin got was green eyes, a gaping hunger for success and an inescapable attraction to troubled men.

“I play Exy and I like books,” Kevin offers in trade for information. It’s — well, he doesn’t have many hobbies. The gardening and the cooking are a late product of much of Dr. Betsy Dobson’s insistence that Kevin must make something out of himself that isn’t Exy-related. “I like cooking but I’m not good at it. And I like gardening but it takes a lot of work so I don’t do it all the time.”

“It’s not that bad,” Andrew tells him, motioning to his food with small movements. He finished his plate in record time, inhaling Kevin’s poor attempt at a caesar salad like it’s a five stars meal. On the other hand, Neil is halfway through with his and looks done already. “Your food.”

“Not that bad?” Kevin tilts his head slightly, amused. He’ll take it, he supposes. “Thank you, Andrew.”

Hesitant, like perhaps he fears Kevin will be angry at him for it, Neil picks up the conversation where he left off to say, “I like… horses. But, um, like toys.”

 “Horses, I see,” Kevin repeats, a bit hopeless. Children’s interests are so loose. “And what else?”

Neil flicks him a suspicious glare. “What else?”

“I gave you four of my interests. A conversation has to be equal.”

Looking as if Kevin had sprouted a second head right in front of him, Neil does not do as he is asked so much as he stares at Kevin, mouth open in a little o. Has no one asked this child what he likes before? It feels out of character for the Butcher of Baltimore, sure, but Neil’s mother had seemed to care for him, at least from what little Kevin had heard about her. 

“No?” Kevin tries after a few moments of silence. “I’m just trying to be friends.” 

“Why would you be my friend?” Neil asks, putting down his fork with surprising care; as if to ensure it makes no noise. Even his voice is small and unobtrusive, despite the words. “Adults and children aren’t friends. Adults want children to be quiet.”

Kevin hides a wince. He hadn’t imagined the Butcher of Baltimore, in all his serial killer glory, would have indulged his child in conversation — and by the way Neil acts, he could’ve guessed for himself that most of Neil’s childhood had been trying to stay out of his father’s way. But no one ever wants to assume the worst out of a loved one’s suffering;  Kevin had held out hope there’d be at least a silver lining in Neil’s horror stories.

It is not unlike how Kevin and Riko were raised in the Nest, anyway. Their private tutors were stern, and despite much of their trying, there was no place for childhood in Evermore: they were told to keep quiet or else. The Master would often say that they were not to act like children — it hadn’t occurred to him up until now how cruel it is to forbid a child from being childish.

“Well, if I’m asking you, don’t you think I want to know?” Kevin argues. “Not all adults think the same thing. Do you think the same thing as every other child?”

A pause. Neil shakes his head, looking somewhat green, as if he had just realized what he said. From Kevin’s other side, Andrew stares anxiously. 

Rubbing a hand through his face, Kevin slowly puts out, trying to enunciate his words as gentle as he can make them, “I am not angry that you spoke your mind. It makes sense, what you said.” He shakes his head a little. Only a few minutes in, and he’s already ruining it — Kevin’s no good for anything that doesn’t involve a racquet. “But I would not have asked if I didn’t want to know. Do you understand?”

A small, careful nod. Kevin will take whatever he can get. 

“Good.” Kevin starts to gather the empty plates — his and Andrew’s —, and motions towards Neil’s half-finished one. “Do you not like it? I can make you something else, if you want.”

The sudden shift in conversation visibly vexes Neil, but, politely, he replies, “...Not hungry.”

From beside Kevin, Andrew flinches. Hurrying to dispel it, Kevin says, “It’ll be in the fridge in case you want it later.” Piling the plates into one of his hands, Kevin offers the other one to Andrew. “Come on, you didn’t get to tell me what you like during lunch.”

The child watches Kevin’s hand — the right one, smooth and unscarred if a little crooked from the years of gripping racquets — warily before accepting it, threading his little fingers through Kevin’s. His hand feels unimaginably small; so fragile it is a wonder it even exists. Kevin is reminded of the first time he saw a baby bird, back in Dublin: he’d told his mom he couldn’t tell if it was super ugly or super cute. She’d laughed for what felt like an eternity after.

Still sitting politely at the table, Neil watches their joined hands, frowning. Kevin can’t tell what he’s thinking — wouldn’t be able to even with an adult Neil —, but the face he makes claws at his heart. “N—” not his name,  “ah, do you want to come with?” 

Thus invited, Neil follows them into the kitchen. Kevin washes the dishes and listens as Andrew tells him, a little shyly, that he likes Sesame Street, street cats (“Really?” Kevin asks. “Aren’t their claws a little scary?” to which Andrew seems to lose some respect for him on the spot), chocolate and amusement parks, when he is allowed to go. It's a fairly common list — Kevin didn’t know what he expected a five-year-old version of Andrew to like. Something a little more unorthodox, perhaps.

But children are the same everywhere, at any point. Andrew soaks up the attention Kevin gives him, happy to answer all questions, if a little insecure on why Kevin would be asking them. Knowing where Andrew was at this age, he doesn’t doubt it’s been a while an adult has actually spoken to him with some level of care for what he has to say: when was the last time Andrew has actually felt companionship? Someone who hears what he says and asks questions about it? 

It feels sacrilegious to stop now. Already out of dishes to clean, Kevin scrubs and re-scrubs their plates until his hands ache as he asks Andrew questions, not unaware of Neil’s watching eyes.

“And how is it? California?” Kevin asks. The next thing he says is a bold-faced lie, because he’s visited Jean before, but he still says it. “I’ve never been. I heard it’s beautiful.” 

He’s heard no such thing. Jean seems to think California is where meaningful art goes to die, but he can’t tell Andrew that.

“Is okay,” Andrew tells him, propped up on a stool next to Kevin. His little legs swing mindlessly. “The traffic — there’s traffic. And Disneyland.”

“You’ve been?” He asks again.

“Oh, um, no.”

It’s expected. “I have not either,” Kevin relates, making it sound like a bigger woe than it really is. His hands are rubbed raw at this point, and the soap pricks at the skin of his palms — soon, he’ll have to stop. Just a little more. “I don’t think I’d like it, either way.”

Andrew watches him curiously. “Why?”

“I don’t like crowds.” It’s not as easy as that, but Kevin leaves it as it is. The prickling sensation of the soap starts to crawl up his wrist, and he decides it is time to stop. Drying his hands off on a nearby cloth, Kevin prompts, “How about some dessert?”

It is the first time he’s ever said those words, and they horrify him, but the quickly-hidden flash of interest in Andrew’s face is worth breaking his streak for. From the stool beside Andrew, Neil frowns lightly. This child is too serious — Kevin tries to remember if he was like this back in little league, but his memory is not the best after so many hits to the head.

He rummages through their freezer. Andrew’s adult self is fond of indulging — there are a few half-eaten ice cream cartons tucked beneath frozen peas and other such vegetables, though most of them are flavored a cherry liqueur Kevin will most certainly not feed to children. Scavenging further he is able to retain a sealed chocolate carton, the frost covering it making his fingertips tingle. 

This has to be too frozen to eat. Helpless, Kevin turns to look at the two five-year-olds as if they have a better idea. It’s weird, now, to be the person Andrew and Neil look to for answers — Kevin is used to it being the other way around. He is caught thinking that he’ll probably struggle in the coming days, without his two little shadows making life easier for him. 

“I think if I microwave it a little bit, nothing’s going to happen,” Kevin mumbles to himself, aware that he is not inspiring much respect as an authority figure. He’s no Andrew, after all: Kevin’s still himself, despite all his best efforts to be someone else. 

The ice cream loses some of its original texture in the microwave, but, if anything, Andrew seems to enjoy it as Kevin passes him a bowl. Neil does not accept one himself, politely saying he doesn't like sweets, and the lack of attitude from him is disturbing. Kevin is used to Neil being a force of nature — seeing him this quiet, this contained, is not easy. It makes him think of the iron-shaped scar on his adult self’s chest. All that dead skin. 

Unwilling to let him be left out, Kevin cuts some slices of apple for him, which Neil takes with some degree of gratefulness. The little boys settle in front of the TV while Kevin manages to find a children’s channel, looking small on their ratty dorm carpet. Kevin isn’t sure children should be this small in the first place — he’s not sure if they are little because of genetics, or neglect. How much can you hurt a child until they disappear?

Kevin sits himself with them, cross-legged. He is too old to see the appeal of children’s television, so most of it is watching them from the corner of his eye and finding out what to say to Aaron to get him to come and help. 

You 14:36

Hello. I think whatever happened to me last month just happened to Andrew and Neil. 

As in, they have turned into five-year-olds. If you’ve forgotten. 

When there is no immediate response, Kevin huffs to himself and snatches a picture of their two little heads pending towards each other, deep in conversation about the show they are watching. Kevin is, at least, relieved to see them interacting at all: Andrew might have been to kindergarten already, but Neil has always been undersocialized, all tutors and nannies. If Kevin can’t be his friend, then at least Andrew can. 

The picture gets him a quicker answer.

Aaron 14:45

what the fuck what the fuck what the ufck

why doe sthis keep fucking happening to you 

Like it’s his fault!

You 14:45

This is not the kind of thing I can control. 

They are good children. Polite. Easier to deal with than I was, I wager. But  I need you to come and help. 

Aaron 14:47

why should i

what makes you think i could help you

You 14:49

Because he is your brother. 

Before Kevin can read Aaron’s answer, something hooks on his hair. Looking down, he finds Andrew’s hand hanging a few inches away from it, alarmed and wide-eyed at being caught. Behind him, Neil looks just as queasy, as if this had been their joint effort. 

“Can I help you?” Kevin asks, raising his eyebrow a little. When he gets no response, he concedes, "You can touch. Don’t tug or pull. And keep it away from your mouth.”

No response. Kevin doubles down, “It’s really fine. Here.” He pulls his hair out of its low ponytail, letting it curtain down his shoulders and back. It’s not often he lets his hair down like this — it can be too much of a hassle. Kevin ought to cut it one day, but the thought still makes him a little sick to think of. “As long as you’re careful.”

An hesitant little hand inches closer and closer, still warily watching out for Kevin’s reaction. When Andrew finds no resistance, he combs little fingers down the length of Kevin’s hair, faint and amazed. He’s not very gentle — children are too clumsy for it, still, and there is some tugging. It doesn’t hurt, though. Kevin allows it.

Resigning himself to being played with, Kevin gives them his back, leaning his elbow against the couch. Another pair of little hands clutches at a chunk of hair, and he knows Andrew has convinced Neil to get in on their impromptu hairdresser salon. At least they’re playing, Kevin consoles himself as he feels a pull on his scalp. At least they’re getting along. 

“I have hair ribbons on my desk,” he offers, knowing what he is setting himself up to and still going through with it. “Colorful ones. Satin. Would you like to see them?”

A pause on the tugging. “Really?” That was Neil.

“Yes. But I’ll have to get up to get them.”

“I can do it,” Andrew tells him, the ever-helpful little waiter. He’s so polite — Kevin wonders if they taught him there is a higher chance of getting adopted if you treat the foster parents with subservience. Probably. “Where is it?”

“Andrew, it’s fine—”

“I’ll do it. He’s still playing, so I’ll do it.”

So kind, giving Neil time to play by himself. Kevin, helplessly charmed, would allow him anything. “Okay. Thank you.” Motioning vaguely in the direction of their desks, he says, “It’s the one with the shelves on top of it. Yes, that one, with the books. Be careful not to hit your head!” Watching Andrew narrowly duck under a shelf gives Kevin half an aneurysm, but the child seems no less interested in his quest. “First drawer. There. Did you find it?”

“Yes,” Andrew replies, shoving a chubby fist into the drawer and pulling out a handful of hair ribbons, all different colors and sizes. There was an organization system to it, and his careless pulling has clearly ruined it. A little disheartened, Kevin doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “This?”

“Yes. Please keep the drawer closed.” 

The drawer snaps shut, and Andrew makes his way back to them, freshly acquired ribbons falling over his fingers and wrist in colorful flops. Kevin doesn’t see him sit back down, but he feels Andrew’s hand on his hair again. “Why do you have shelves?” Neil asks after a few moments of silence, their hands working ribbons in his hair via extremely clumsy braiding. “Um, just you, I mean. The others are empty.”

That he’s asking anything seems like a blessing, when the child is so quiet. “My—” Kevin hesitates. How to even describe it? “My… friend built them for me. The shelves. He got annoyed at me for leaving my books everywhere.”

 It’s true. Just as Kevin loathes Andrew’s habit of leaving his cigarettes anywhere, so does Andrew loathe Kevin’s astray book piles across the living room, left half-read or unfinished in his haste to get to class or practice. The shelves had been less of a compromise and more of a surprise: one day, they were simply sitting above his desk like they’ve always been there. Kevin never asked Andrew if he built them, but he figured the wood splinters on his fingers were reason enough. It took a lot of arguing for Andrew to take them out the right way, instead of just letting the splinters break on their own.

“Oh,” Andrew says, entirely unaware of the story being about his older self and focused on tying a bow on Kevin’s hair. “Where is he?”

“There’s two of them, actually. They’re away for work.” Kevin leans his head closer when the tugging starts to get a little painful. “What are you doing back there, anyway?”

“It’s pretty,” Neil murmurs, defending his work. Kevin doubts it is, but he’s happy to even have the little Neil’s attention at all. 

“You know how to braid?” He asks, trying to steal a look and getting his head gently moved back by Andrew. “By the way, what’s your name? You haven’t said.”

Neil hesitates, hands freezing. Kevin keeps talking, “Whatever you want to be called.”

 “Um,” Neil thinks on it for a moment. He seems to be rolling Kevin’s hair nervously around his fingers now; a nervous fidget. “My—my dad calls me Junior, but my mom calls me Nat—Nathaniel.”

 He doesn’t say it like he enjoys being called either.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” Kevin tilts his head in acknowledgement, because he wasn’t raised in a barn. “I’m Kevin. It’s nice to meet you.”

Shy little thing he is, Nathaniel doesn’t answer. 

The children play with Kevin’s hair for a few more minutes before losing interest, leaving him a mess of ribbons and tangles he decides not to deal with for now. He imagines they should be put to sleep soon — children this small sleep in the afternoon, do they not? At their age, Kevin is sure he had to be made to nap one way or another, what with his mother’s hectic schedule. It’s a bit of a parenting cop-out, he is aware, but… Kevin could use a nap himself. Sure the children do, too.

He makes a show out of yawning behind his palm. Two pairs of eyes turn to him, neither particularly moved by his display. Tough crowd. 

“Maybe we can all take a nap,” Kevin suggests. Nothing.

#asks #kandreil #my writing #thisis very scuffed i did some minor editing but its seriously not good. dont perceive me

[kaoffee]

kaoru h. — helping with your fears

a/n — i was supposed to post this nearly two weeks ago but got so nervous and kept procrastinating 😭 wawawa

kaoru would be really sweet and supportive about your fears! he'll try his best to help you overcome them, as well. of course, he does it at your own pace! he doesn't want the love of his life to get overwhelmed, after all.

if you're scared of the dark, for example, he'll accompany you if you need to get something in the middle of the night! he'll hold your hand and make sure you remember you're not alone in the dark right now. if you have trouble sleeping because of your fear, kaoru will cuddle you to help you sleep, even whispering sweet things into your ear in a soft voice. and if that doesn't work, he'll sing a song until he notices you finally dozed off. after that, he'll kiss your forehead and whisper 'good night', even if you can't hear.

scared of getting bad grades? he basically acts like your personal cheerleader! if you have a test coming up, he'll try to help you review for it! after you read your books and notes, he'll ask a few questions for the important details so you remember them the most. if you're the kind of person who overworks and pulls all-nighters, kaoru will check on you and remind you to rest. yes, your grades are important, but he doesn't want you to sacrifice your health for it! you can't get a good score on an exam if you're too groggy to read the questions, right?

lastly, if you're scared of being alone, kaoru understands completely. honestly, he's probably scared of it himself. but he promises that, for as long as he lives, he'll always stay by your side and make you happy. he loves you dearly, and he wants to see you and your smile every day for the rest of his life <3

#kaoru hakaze x reader #kaoru hakaze #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #♡ ... latte

[apompkwrites]

Oh idea I got when listening to these two Hu Tao songs, links at the bottom, and thought up of Younger Sibling Shroud that act like her.

The younger sibling is younger then Ortho is so Idia and them didn’t hang out as much as he did with Ortho due to the age difference and their parents were too busy to really focus on them so Hu Tao!Shroud would mainly hang out with the ghost on the Island of Woe and would mainly hang out the the one that acted like a grandfather to them who used to be a funeral director who taught them all about what their funeral parlor used to do.

This lead them to develop some…interesting quirks to other people.

Also I can’t help but think that when the meet Malluse they would end up like best friends like how Hu Tao is with Zhongli.

Here’s the links to the songs, they are fan made and really good to listen too

Link 1: https://youtu.be/8za2EYuDcjE

Link 2: https://youtu.be/h1BVB538CAI

wawawa hu tao fan songs !!!

love the idea of hu tao!shroud being more attuned to the blot creatures, but in a more willing aspect? unlike canon shroud, who was forced to get to know them, hu tao!shroud does so willingly bc they find them interesting? and this leads to them meeting the remnants of the deceased phantoms?

so bc of this upbringing, they get used to the idea of death and even find interest in it.

and them being friends with malleus like hu tao is with zhongli!!! ugh i love. ooh! maybe even zhongli!draconia :OO

#a pompk answers #black sheep

[sm-baby]

I recently had a conversation with the pastor about me (ftm, bi) and my boyfriend (ftm, pan) and they were so gentle and accepting it warmed my heart. Thank you for creating them! <3

OH N- MY ANSWER TO THIS ASK WAS NOT POSTED I HATE IT HERE

wawawa!! Hhh thanks so much for talking to her I assure you VERY much loved the company!!

Hehe I hope you and your boyfriend are chilling too! Hehe! Im glad she could give that to you! <3

[fnaffersblog]

Wawawa you're fine! I love reading your thoughts about the show. You always have great takes so it's always a treat to read! Honestly you are completely correct that both Sun and Moon have too much problems to work through alone. Like they're getting better, but if someone doesn't intervene soon something is going to happen that might actually cause unfixable damage.

I can't help but wonder if part of New Moon's improvement in the emotions department has to do with Earth. Like it's a given that the old Moon didn't know how to deal with social issues at all, but honestly considering how he came to be it's surprising he wasn't worse off. The newer Moon though had a much more tolerant beginning. Sure it sucked that he literally woke up just to find out that he has a lot of problems to look forward to, but at least he had a supportive family (even if he didn't know them) to help him get his footing. I feel like that helped Moon a lot in being able to process things and helped him have a more healthy mindset. Earth probably led to a good chunk of the positive coping skills. Moon knows Earth is probably the most emotionally intelligent of them all so why not try to emulate some of her caring nature though emulating can only do so much if you're still clueless on the emotional cues :')

Also thank you for saying the part where the old Moon and Sun really didn't know each other as well as they thought they did. I've always sort of had that thought in the back of my mind but I never really gave it much thought, and now I'm sad thinking about how Sun really never got to know old Moon personally before he got erased. Sure the newer Moon is basically the same just reset but there are certain things that the old Moon experienced that the new one will never truly get because it didn't happen to him.

As for the name choice, Spigot is what Lunar named the toy reindeer he got for Christmas :) Also for your consideration, Cherrim for Sun.

I’m so glad folks like my deep dives! Everyone has been so kind in my comments n stuff, I appreciate that a lot, it makes me really happy. I love seeing other people’s long posts too when I pop into the various SaMs tags. It’s always interesting to see how someone perceived an episode differently than I did, I always end up being like ‘I thought that too!’ or ‘I didn’t even notice that!’ when I read other people’s stuff. It’s great, my favorite part of this. :D

“If someone doesn't intervene soon something is going to happen that might actually cause unfixable damage.” So, this. Yes. Yeah. Took the words right out of my mouth. I’ve been thinking this for awhile now.

It’s… a weird situation. Moon’s reset, even though it happened months ago at this point, has thrown a wrench in the situation.

At this point, Moon… doesn’t really have any issues?

Yeah this is all… a mess to talk about lol.

Old Moon? Yes. Old Moon had a LOT of issues he needed to work through. Had he not been reset, I think he’d be at a breaking point right now right alongside Sun, if he wasn’t actively pushing Sun towards one. Or both.

New Moon is… well, I don’t think we’ve really gotten any sort of indication that he’s having trouble reconciling with the reset. In fact, I don’t think we’ve gotten ANYTHING in regards to how New Moon feels about the reset. I did SAY that in the previous post but it was more me waxing poetic and less concrete proof has been provided that he’s struggling with any emotional turmoil due to the reset. At most, maybe he’s stressed with all the stuff that he’s dealing with all at once?

Like, yeah, he’s annoyed and disturbed by the actions of Old Moon and he thinks Old Moon was a dick but like… does he see that as himself? As a different person? Does he ever think about it at all? Is it on his mind a lot, or is it just something he’s reminded of sometimes? Like, Old Moon is just some guy to him people bring up, or whose stuff he has to sort through sometimes. We’ve gotten nothing as far as I can remember. I don’t think we have any perspective on how New Moon sees the reset at all. We don’t know at all. NOTHING. Which is funny because I really did think, well this was such a huge event for us and for the show, there’s gotta be something unresolved there for New Moon but… I don’t know? It feels more like, considering the way he’s reacted when Sun has brought up stuff Old Moon has done… Like, when Sun talks about stuff Old Moon to New Moon did he says things like, ‘you used to do’ or ‘you did before’ or ‘when old you’ and New Moon always just kinda seems to go ‘huh’ or get quiet, sometimes correcting Sun ‘well I can’t do that now’ and then the conversation moves on. At the very least he must know Sun sees it as Old Moon or previous version of Moon and New Moon or current version of Moon. I can see that causing some contention no matter how New Moon perceives Old Moon in relation to himself.

He’s stressed out because he’s juggling a lot of plates right now, for sure. I mean, he was basically just born and now he’s trying to save the world from six different angles, on top of re-learning/learning everything for the first time. I’d be a little irritable too. But I think that that’s it. He’s at most annoyed and a little burnt out, but all that previous trauma is gone and it’s gone for good, if the most recent lore ep told us anything.

Suns isn’t. Obviously, lol. In fact he kinda called this out himself, that Moon just got to start over and Sun doesn’t. Which is going to cause contention from Suns side.

It’s a mess.

Earth is a TREASURE. I love her. She’s a wonderful character and I’m so happy for her inclusion in the show. She fits so well into Sun and Moon’s dynamic, she’s like a piece that was always missing that no one knew about. Had I more time, I’d talk about her for awhile, because she’s such a sweetheart.

But I agree with literally everything you said in the paragraph about her and Moon. I couldn’t say it better myself. Her being around to help contextualize New Moon’s formative experiences alongside Sun has definitely been a massive factor in his changes.

It makes me curious about her relationship with the creator. The Creator refers to her as daughter and Sun and Moon as mistakes (Though he also talks about her as an object, much like he does the others, tools he created to do things. Even so, he is miles more respectful towards her than he is towards Sun and Moon). If she’s anything like Sun and Moon she was ‘raised’ in the sense that she had programs written into her, but her experiences after she turned on were what shaped her current personality. She is SO MUCH MORE well adjusted than Sun and Moon. Does he… love her? She refers to him as father and is defensive about his actions towards Sun and Moon, she took care of him. It makes me super interested to leanr even more about her ‘childhood’ so to say.

I like Earth.

There’s a lot to grieve about in regards to New Moon. I know a lot of folks were holding onto the idea that perhaps there was a way to return Moon’s memories and I’ll admit I was one of those people. But with what amounts to a concrete confirmation from Golden Freddy alongside just the fact that it happened at all, I think it’s safe to say that Old Moon, ALL of Old Moon is gone. There’s more to say about it, but that’s a longer discussion for a different post.

I did not remember that detail about the reindeer for Lunar! That’s perfect. Also how did I not think of Cherrim for Sun?? It’s literally the perfect Pokemon for him! It’s whole gimmick is the sun AND it’s rays look like petals just like Sun’s rays, I LOVE that. Perfect perfect perfect.

#fafferchat #fafferasks #sams #tsams #sun and moon show #sams moon #sams earth

[cabinet-man-colors]

(ID. a digital drawing of rivulet and looks to the moon from rain world. moon is sitting cross legged with rivulet in her lap, one hand holding the slugcat with the other above them, playing with them. rivulet is reaching for moon happily.

the text in the background reads: "waoww! wawawa waaooow!" behind rivulet and "whirring happily" behind moon. End ID.)

moon and ruffles my beloveds. i havent played their campaign yet but i know about it and love them! (no spoilers in the notes please <33)

@arcadian-vampire

#rain world #cabinet man colors #described

[unknownarmageddon]

Dust + Garden = yes

Oh what reminds us of you ? Hmmm . FoB . Like I saw one of their shirts at the mall and went " oooo Armageddon would love that "

Yea absolutely

ALSO ALSO ohh my god I. Love that dude like??? For whatever reason that like. Makes me so happy idk how to express it HFHFFH

#Fob is currently rotting my brain like MAD #I love them immensely so that’s rad to hear they make you think of me wawawa #Also I wish I saw fob shirts at the mall hello?? What mall was it lemme go there and buy their entire stock /j/j/j #answering asks #denieatsart asks #deni!!

[pianostarinwonderland]

Ah another Azul Stan/Simp! Well met ^_^ might I ask if you have any tumblrs/AO3s that you recommend for good Azul or even Tweed fics? I'm in the midst of writing one-with a good few chapters out-and am looking for inspiration/ other perspectives

Wawawa hello!!

Frankly, I’m very picky about Twst fanfics, so much so that I don’t really pick up on them. In general, for Twst fics, I recommend @advernia and @hunting-season because the way they think as they write their ideas is so beautiful. It’s pretty different from the typical yume content you see in the general fandom space, which I really appreciate, and they really touch on the canon while weaving it into their art.

There’s another fanfic author that I like called @zgvlt . They’re very famous for their long one-shots, and I really really aspire to write as well as they do. Their style draws in a lot of people due to its colloquial writing, something that I really want to be able to do. 😭 And even if their scenarios use common tropes in the fandom, it’s very clear that they’ve thought deeply on how a character would interact with or react to a situation without letting too much bias cloud their vision. I know they’ve done a Sebek and Jade oneshot. This one Azul fic they did is to die for, though. It takes the common “Azul overthinks his first date with you” trope, but it really pokes and prods at Azul’s way of looking at life. Tell me to judge the characterization, and I will be able to connect several lines in that fic to actual card lines Azul said in the game and say, “OP really studied him”. Highly recommended read. Now if only I can remember who’s this lovely person. 🤠

There is also this really wonderful tweels/Azul fic written back when Octavinelle came out in JP. I highly recommend it because I think OP has one of the best ways of writing Floyd.

When it comes to writing Octavinelle, I want you to keep in mind to balance their character traits. It is so common to see people lean to one way when it comes to the three of them: Azul’s crybaby vs. capitalist sides, Jade’s mushroom loving vs. sadistic sides, Floyd’s moody (often perceived to be cute) vs. feral sides. Yes, every character needs to have that balance, but Octavinelle especially is boxed into one character trait or another, which are often two extremes, when they can have both traits. It’s not that Azul being a crybaby suddenly means all semblance of confidence has and always will be faked—no, Azul can have both the confidence and stride and the sensitivities that he tries to hide. Jade can both be the boy who cares about his friends and his plants and the boy who haunts everyone’s dreams. Floyd can be moody, but he’s also both a mad genius and a really honest person. I especially want to emphasize on the latter because it’s thanks to Floyd that we even have a lot of details regarding past Azul and Jade. 😭

If you’re really stuck on how either of them would react a certain way, go back to the canon. Read their stories and card lines. A single line already communicates their mindsets and therefore gives you an idea on how they would react to something.

Good luck with writing! 😉

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #ask

[lannisterdaddyissues]

Mar im gonna need 3, 16, 20, 23 and 27 with bill cage <3

@calkale @sliderkerner WAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU MY BELOVED FRIENDS FOR INDULGING MY INSANITY I LOVE YOU GUYS <3333

1. My first impression of them hmm its funny bc i think i first watched edge of tomorrow in august and i was normal about it actually? i was like hm that was a good film but not the best of his movies for sure. i dont think i really understood most of it though so a rewatch was necessary, but that didn't happen until february and idk what clicked that didn't the first time but oh i am SOOOOOOOOOO insane about it now the lights are all flipped on

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like) i knew as soon as he tripped over the chair that i was going to love his stupid pathetic ass <3

3. A song that reminds me of them ill NEVER STOP SAYING THIS but 'the proof of your love' by for king & country it is SO bill-coded, so billrita-coded, it's literally their theme song idk what else you want me to say

however since i've said that one before i'm reccing 'undercover angel' by alan o'day because it would be one of those classics he used to love growing up and when he hears it again on the radio some time after they've gotten together he's like "rita oh my GOD do you know how to dance 🥺🥺🥺" and she's like "nooooooo not the fucking angel song, cage, come on-" but he teaches her how to waltz to it and . let me be delusional okay

16. A childhood headcanon wawawa.... baby bill.... hm i have several small ones but i firmly subscribe to the headcanon that he was actually born in georgia because his mom is from there (it would explain EVERYTHING about him, especially because i also hc that his personality was just copy-pasted directly from his mom) but he moved to cranbury when he was like one or two so he considers himself "from cranbury, born and raised" anyway

20. A weird headcanon ok uhhhh idk if this is weird but it IS oddly specific so! he can make one (1) pie recipe! it's blueberry pie (cranbury is famous for it, according to google) and rita LOVES it. she's definitely not a sugar person and rarely indulges in anything at all but she's such a sucker for that fucking pie and bill is always over the moon whenever she gives him That Look that means she wants another slice but is too proud to ask

23. Future headcanon he takes rita to visit cranbury a couple years after they both fall into place beside each other and it's a very emotionally healing experience for both of them. he tells her lots of silly meaningless little anecdotes from when he was growing up while giving her the grand tour and rita isn't a very sentimental person either but she can't help how easy it is to picture him living in that cute little town when he gets so chatty about it :,)

(also rita eventually takes him to her hometown in wolverhampton and reluctantly introduces him to her very alive, very normal parents because i said so)

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet? in my mind he and fix it felix jr get brunch every sunday to catch up about the horrors they have been through and gush about their sexy muscular action girlfriends. nobody can take this idea away from me

#ask #reply #calkale #sliderkerner #mutual #mutuals #ask meme #edge of tomorrow #bill cage #billrita #THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS THESE WERE SO FUN LMFAO

[pookapufferfish]

I drew pufferfish and thought you'll like it <3

They're gossiping about their Iterators

Well more like Hunter and Rivulet, Spearmaster is going though some dread...

Wawawa I love them

So cool. The iterator scugs

#answers