#Ah. And this is Children's Cartoon Show.

[lesmisscraper]

The Result of Mme. Victurnien's Suceess. Volume 1, Book 5, Chapter 10.

Clips from <Il cuore di Cosette>.

[panfilka]

Funny Animal Open Mouth with Teeth for Dentist, Cute Healthy Smile for Children Tote Bag 

Funny Animal Open Mouth with Teeth for Dentist, Cute Healthy Smile for Children. Great for Dentist or Dental Staff Workers on National Denstists Day. For everyone who likes healthy teeth. By Panfilka

[emeraldcity1900]

the history of animation in a nutshell

Early 1900s: hey what if comic strips could like move?

Late 1910s early 1920s hey what if we mashed this up with live action people?

late 1920s: hey what if this thing had sound?

Early to mid 1930s: hey what if this had people actually talking and also color?

late 1930s: hey you know that super cool movie that one lady animated with paper cut out silhouettes? What if we did that with painted cells? Would people even pay to see that? Never mind it turns out the answer is yes.

1940s: ah shit most of our animators got drafted and/or hate us now cause we weren’t paying them. IT’S PROPAGANDA TIME BABY. Also haha hitler got hit with a mallet and also the most racist depictions of Japanese people ever.

1950s to 1960s : oh what’s this newfangled thing? Television? What if you could air cartoons on it? Oh fuck no I ain’t paying that much to get the charecters to have different backgrounds and for the charecters to like, move fluidly. Also manga and anime are steadily growing more popular.

1970s: (Ralph Bakshi walks into a comics store and finds a furry comic) X rated animated movie? *cue the screams of mothers and their unsuspecting children now being introduced to the revolutionary idea that cartoons don’t equal kids stuff? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?

1980s to 1990s: we can have full on animated Broadway musicals? Wait, what do you mean animated movies can count for the Oscar’s? What do you mean now they get their own catagory because the academy still thinks their for babies? Anime and manga are taking off in the west. SWEET JESUS WHAT DRUGS ARE THE JAPANESE ON SHOWING THIS SHIT TO KIDS. But also why is it so fucking good. Maybe some of these aren’t even meant for kids? Wait We can sell toys to kids with cartoons? Wait we can actually put effort into these cartoons on television? The fuck to you mean we can animate in 3D now? What do you mean we can have well animated, well written sitcom shows like the simpsons? What do you mean you can make cartoon charecters say fuck? What drugs are creators at Nickelodeon on? Do I even want to know?

2000s: oh my god, there is this one show that I really like cause it’s really well written and genuinely funny but I can’t talk about it because it’s animated and we all know cartoons are for babies right? Oh look it’s the transformers movie, look how far CGI has evolved so we can make the transformers in a movie.

2010s: holy shit I know these shows are for kids but they’re just well written and have so much meaningful things to say about the world. Wait, it’s cool to like cartoons now? They they have fandoms for this? Fuck yeah I’m in. (Enters one of the most notoriously toxic fandoms of all time) THEY HAVE GAY PEOPLE IN THESE SHOWS NOW? AND COMPLEX EMOTIONAL STORYTELLING? AND ADULT ANIMATED SHOWS CAN BE MORE THAN JUST SITCOMS WITH THE SAME JOKES AND STYLE? WHY IS IT THAT EVERY DISNEY CARTOON SINCE GRAVITY FALLS INCLUDE THINGS THAT GET MORE AND MORE FUCKED UP? WHY DO I FUCKING LOVE IT? WHY THE FUCK DID DISNEY DO THE OWL HOUSE DIRTY LIKE THAT?

2020s: I got this show I wanna pitch but it dosen’t fit into any box that the networks want and also I’m afraid that they’ll just randomly cancel it before I can finish the story I want to tell. Wait, I can just post the pilot on my YouTube channel, see if anybody actually likes this thing I made and just make the show independently? FUCK THE NETWORK! I AM THE NETWORK

[crayons-and-glitter-glue]

I think about Sun and Moon's original versions a LOT, and I don't get why people say they're not expressive!

Or perhaps, I do, and I just wanna ramble. Anyways! Big ol warning for lots of talking, some fursuit gifs and analyzation of body movement.

So, they have flat, immobile faceplates, right? Technically, yes!some argue that this makes them immediately inert and expressionless and opt to enhance their expressions. And this is a-okay! Do what you like!

But as someone who used to be a costumer, and wears a fursuit on occasion,

(Sorry, I love this gif so much)

BUT! When in a mascot costume, fursuit, or any other costume with a mask over one's face, the performer has to learn how to move in order to portray the emotions necessary for character engagement with the audience! Whether it's exaggerated head bobs, using your hands to talk, or making everything a bit of a spectacle, even the way you tilt your FACE can affect how you look.

Even MUPPETS do this with their limited range of expression. And we can easily draw those conclusions of how the boys were programmed to act in canon!

Take Sun's default animation in the daycare, just standing there.

It's very obvious here what he's trying to portray, and who his programmed audience is- little children! When costuming around little kids, you wanna use big gestures, and get on their level because you can seem HUGE AND SCARY to them! You wanna get down towards the ground, make big sweeping cartoon motions, and make sure all your movements are ROUNDED- not jabbing, sharp, or sudden- so that the kid isn't ever surprised, but rather delighted by your performance as a costumer. I'll show you an example by the amazing performer, Temba the Bat! (Made by Toxicoon, I believe.)

Big sweeping motions, slow without being too spooky, and generally friendly motions while swaying the head! Looks kinda similar right?

Another point is, though, these exaggerated motions don't really... turn off when feeling other things. Sun and Moon don't have a customer service mode, and that's WILD to me that their programming requires them to act like this all the time. Exhibit B: Sun's pain in the transformation scene.

He's making such exaggerated motions and movements to INDICATE he is in pain or holding something back. He's gripping his face like something is trying to come out of it, and even dramatically falls backwards to indicate a loss of control in his body. Whether the way the fall looks so cartoonist was intentionally programmed in, I couldn't tell you.

And then... there's Moon.

This is SO cartoon villain sequel, isn't it? The hands tapping delicately on the surface, the exaggerated head tilt, all of it is so wildly exaggerated in such a smooth way to let you know "Ah! I'm in danger! Great!"

And yet... he still is low to the ground. Still in that pose of going after someone SMALL. Performing for someone small. His evilness is almost completely exaggerated and, dare I say, fabricated by his programming. Of course, the virus probably had something to do with it but LIKE! Look at that range of motion!

Idk what the point of all this is, I just wanna say: it's totally understandable to make the boys super duper expressive in the artistic, flat 2d styles i see a lot!

But man I do hope someone draws them biblically accurate while expressing something else because that would be hilarious to see Sun throwing a temper tantrum by banging his fists on the ground and flailing while his face is just

:D

[drowsyhope]

HEYA, [Y/N]! • POPPY PLAYTIME

summary ; child reader with the smiling critters

a/n ; THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THE DOGDAY FICC 🫶🏼🫶🏼 was lowkey scared to post it bc i thought it was booty 😔 HOPE YALL ENJOY THIS ONEE

warning ; slight cussing, reader is hispanic coded bc ya girl is hispanic ‼️🙏🏼, based on the CARTOON versions of the smiling critters, different scenarios with each character, no children death just a lot of sillies :3

DOGDAY , MOVIE NIGHT

“are you sure the popcorn isn’t burnt?” you asked while holding up a greasy bag of popcorn, that clearly had a burnt smell to it. you were wearing your typical pajamas, a [f/c] ]f/a] themed jumper. dogday on the other hand was wearing a dog themed jumper, complete with fuzzy orange socks.

dogday nodded excitedly, taking the greasy popcorn out of your hands. “of course! everything is perfect!” he turned on the heel of his feet, turning around and walking towards the cushion fort the two of you made.

you were confused, but shook it off, putting in another bag of popcorn.

dogday caught wind of your birthday coming up, and planned a one-on-one play date with the two of you, since recently he has been more busier than usual. plus, he always love spending time with you!

fluffing up a pillow, dogday laid down, getting comfortable in his spot, his tail wagging and you made your way towards him, your own personal bag of popcorn in your hands.

“what movie would you like to watch?” he asked, grabbing the controller and looking at you, awaiting for an answer. you on the other hand, didn’t know what movie to watch. surely, there was plenty of movies to watch, but they suddenly just popped out of your head when the question was asked.

“hmm, what about [favorite movie]?” you responded finally. dogday nodded, turning towards the tv and putting on the movie, smiling as the two of you started munching on your goodies.

alas, your movie night began.

CATNAP , TEA PARTY

catnap was reluctant on the idea of a tea party, but with convincing with the help of dogday, catnap agreed.

the two of you were dressed in your sunday’s best. catnap went for a more casual look, having a pink bow tie tied around his neck, a bow being tied around the end of his tail. bobby gave him some white gloves, craftycorn gave him some necklaces to borrow.

you on the other hand, had a bow tied around your wrist, a bow being put in your hair. picky helped you style your hair, and kickin helped you become more confident.

the tea party was going to be held in his cathouse, which dogday and bubba decorated.

you and hoppy prepared tea, making some french goodies alongside it. you were excited for this little tea party, having it with one of your best of friends. it was also near the time of your birthday, so you were extra excited.

entering the cathouse, you were greeted by catnap, who was fumbling with his bow tie, seemly uncomfortable. “catnap!” you smiled, before giving him a funny look as he looked at you with a shocked expression.

“hey! uh ..can you help me?” catnap struggled, before you nodded. you didn’t want your friend to feel uncomfortable.

soon enough, the two of you were enjoying tea, snacking on chocolate chip cookies, and chatting your lives away. well, mostly you. out of the two, you were the more talkative one. catnap was the quiet one of the smiling critters, so it was surprising for the others for the two of you to become such best friends.

but, thankfully, the two of you are. cause you won’t be having this epic tea party if you didn’t!

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH , MOON CYCLES

hoppy has ever seen the moon before, you on the other hand, have. she always asked how it looked like, does it change, does it have a scent, etc.

“the moon has different cycles, like i think today it’s a full moon.” you explained, showing her a picture of the full moon today. hoppy looked amazed, her eyes widening and her eyes going up. you smiled at her, enjoying that she was finally able to be the moon.

“ah yucks, i wish i can see the moon for myself!” she responded, going back and landing on the pillow, making you giggle. you in return laid down on your stomach right next to her, the photograph still in your hand.

“it’s very beautiful! maybe i can take a videotape next time. i’ll make sure to show you.” you promised, sticking out your pinky for a pinky promise. hoppy smiled, taking out one of her fingers to establish the promise.

it made you feel bad that hoppy never seen the moon. you always seen how much she wanted to see the moon, always talking about it and learning about it.

you wished you can take her along with you, but your parents won’t allow you. also, hoppy is a 6’2ft mascot, and might make other people scared.

nevertheless, you explained the moon cycles to her, drawing pictures of them to visualize it for her. she enjoyed learning more about the cycles, and thanked you for showing her a picture of the actual moon.

hopefully, one day you can take her to the moon. the two of you can jump super high and reach the moon, planting a picture of the two of you, and come right back down. one day, you’ll make sure that dream comes true.

one day.

CRAFTYCORN , ARTWORK

the room was filled with bunch of laughter and smiles, it was of course, the art room. craftycorn was in charge of the art room, as she was the artistic one of the smiling critters.

thankfully, she had a helper, a kid named [y/n].

[y/n] was a artist from the day they were born, always making different artworks from different materials. if there was something, they could make anything out of it.

they enjoyed making art, and instantly became best friends with craftycorn, the two sharing their love for art.

“can you pass me the red?” craftycorn asked, scribbling on her paper. [y/n] nodded, getting up and walking towards the table, which contained different colored crayons. they grabbed the red one, turned around, and made their way back to where craftycorn was.

“here you go!” they said, giving them the red crayon. craftycorn smiled at them, taking the red crayon. she was drawing the two of them, using the red crayon to draw hearts all over the place.

[y/n] sat down, continuing to draw on their artwork — a drawing of all the smiling critters, them included. it was a huge project, and their hand definitely hurt. but, it was going to be worth it in the end.

soon enough, craftycorn was finished with her artwork, holding it up like it was a masterpiece. the other children caught wind of the finished art piece, and was quick to scatter towards her, wanting to see what she had created.

finally, [y/n] was finished. they smiled as they wrote their name near the bottom of the paper, holding it with such determination. they were proud of their artwork.

“that’s an amazing artwork, [y/n]!” craftycorn complimented, smiling as she realized it was her and the other smiling critters, alongside with [y/n]. she felt warmth creep its way into her heart, it was adorable.

“i hope you enjoyed it, i spent a lot of time on it.”

indeed, she and the other smiling critters enjoyed the masterpiece created by their dear [y/n].

PICKY PIGGY , BAKING

baking with picky was like a sport, it was easy!

picky had this cookbook that she liked to use. thankfully, you were able to read, so it was easy baking with picky, as she always had the ingredients on hand.

now, the two of you decided to bake cupcakes for the smiling critters, since they been craving some sweets for awhile.

“and now .. add vanilla!” picky said as you put some drops of vanilla into the cake batter mix, instantly being hit with the scent of vanilla. it smelled just like dogday.

picky read over the instructions as you poured the cake batter into the pan, making sure it was evenly distributed. it was rather a messy step, but with picky on your side, it was easy.

you were quick to put the cupcakes in the oven as picky sat on the countertop, looking at you, smiling. the two of you became friends over your love for baking, and picky’s live for eating.

you would always bake or cook for picky, as you wanted to improve on your skills. picky always gave you honest review, so you can improve better. it was a easy win for the both of you, you get better, and she gets to eat.

the two of you were in silence, looking as the cupcakes baked. it was a comfortable silence.

time was fast though, soon the cupcakes were finished. you put on your heat protective gloves, and took out the cupcakes, blowing on them to try and cool them down.

picky was jumping up and down, excited that the cupcakes were finally done. “okay, don’t touch just yet, they are still very hot.” you said as you took off your gloves. picky understood, but was still excited. she loved trying your cupcakes, something about them just make them melt in her mouth.

she loves when you bake.

BUBBA BUBBAPHANT , MATH HOMEWORK

you didn’t enjoy math.

you always stressed over it, cried over it, and also got mad over it. math was just not your brightest subject.

your best friend on the other hand, bubba, was a scholar on math. he always showed you how good his grades were on math, and always offered to help you.

but no matter how much he helped you, you never seemed to grasp on the concept of math in general.

“come on! it’s easy!” bubba groaned, looking down at the simple multiplication work on your paper. you on the other hand, was stressing out. you shook your head, to which bubba playfully rolled his eyes.

you groaned as bubba explained to you the basic of math, and how to do multiplications. you been over this plenty of times! you just can’t understand the concept of math!

“ughh .. at this point don’t even talk math to me!” that gave bubba an idea.

he quickly bought up 2 apples, “okay, there is two apples, correct?” you nodded. he bought up 3 apples, “now, there is 3 apples, right?” you nodded once again.

“now imagine each apple is 2 apples,” she pointed towards the 3 apples, “2 .. 4 ..”

“6!” bubba smiled. “correct!”

then it was like something clicked. bubba showed many other examples, and you got it right away. everything was suddenly making sense!

maybe math isn’t so bad.

BOBBY BEARHUG, VALENTINE’S DAY

valentine’s day was right around the corner, and you didn’t know what to get your best friend, bobby bearhug.

bobby’s favorite holiday was valentine’s day, she always loved the idea of love in general. in fact, that was how the two of you became friends.

you were giving out chocolates to your friends, and you had an extra heart shaped chocolate. you didn’t know who to give it to, until a certain bear came up to you, giving you a lollipop. smiling, you gave her the heart shaped chocolates, and the two of you became instant friends.

your friendship anniversary was coming up, and you were nervous. you didn’t know what to give bobby, as she basically already had everything.

but then, you had an idea, an expensive one.

2 week before valentine’s day, you were working your butt off for some cash. this was going to be an expensive gift, but it would be long lasting.

thankfully, you got some help from some of her other friends, getting some info on her favorite colors and favorite candies, everything was going to fall perfectly in place.

you made sure to give the person making the gift enough time, and made sure you tipped them accordingly. everything was perfect, and you were excited.

valentines rolled around, and bobby was trying to look for you.

“have yall seen [y/n]?” she was growing worried. today was your friendship anniversary, and she hasn’t seen you all day. she hoped you didn’t just ditch out on her, as she didn’t want to seem useless.

that was when one of the kids asked her to follow them, and as skeptical as she was, she followed nevertheless. they led her to a dark room, which scared her quite a bit. that was until the light turned on, revealing a surprising sight.

“happy valentine’s day!” you stood there, a ramo buchon in the color of her favorite color in your arms, some candies in your other. they were eternal roses, which meant they wouldn’t die out, which made it even more special. the other kids took pictures of the two of you.

this surely was going to be your favorite valentines yet.

KICKIN CHICKEN , ONE DAY

the playground was filled a lot of children, including bullies.

you hated bullies, especially since you have a few of your own. they always made fun of your hair and the way you spoke, which made you insecure about yourself.

that was until a kid named kickin chicken came to your rescue. he defended you from the bullies, and threaten to call the teachers on them.

he was like your guardian angel, and he was a chicken, so almost there.

“why didn’t you tell me?” kickin said with tears in his eyes as he patched you up. you were silent the whole time, not wanting to trauma dump on your friend.

“i didn’t want to seem weak.” you whispered, to which kickin sighed, taping your bruise. he looked at you with worried eyes, this was the 3rd time this weak you were sent to the nurse office, and kickin was always there to see you.

he gave you a hug, sighing as he heard you sniffle. you were always an emotional kid, which was probably one of the reasons they targeted you. kickin was sure to report those kids, they don’t deserve the cupcakes he’s going to bring on his birthday.

he wanted to tell you that you weren’t weak, but you would never believe him. he knew that you hated confrontation, so he never told you directly, but with his actions, he did.

“you’re a amazing friend, [y/n]. i hope you know that.” he said as the two of you hugged each other. you didn’t say anything, you didn’t want to believe what he was saying, but half of you know that he actually meant it.

you just hoped those bullies get the karma that they deserve, and that you won’t be bullied anymore.

one day, you’ll be a happy child. one day you’ll be able to smile without being scared of someone making fun of you. one day, you’ll be the best friend that kickin will always want you to be.

one day.

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last one had a kick to it. alsooo!!! request are open!!! please request! :3 might take some time though :(

[solar-wing]

⚣ BatBro with his BatBros 🦇

⚣ 🦇 A/N → Ah, my first full installment of BatBro headcanons. Where does the time go? Anyway, as we progress throughout these headcanons, you can imagine the characters slowly getting older too. By, the time we get to the end, the reader is at least 18 years old making Damian anywhere between 18-19 years old, since he's a few months older.

⚣ 🦇 Summary → Going from the life of an only child, to having 4+ siblings, can't be easy. Especially when most of those siblings brothers, and those brothers come from a family a crime-stopping vigilantes. What was your mother thinking in leaving you with your dad?

REBLOGS are very appreciated! REPLIES to, I love hearing your thoughts 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🦇

I find it funny that no one has ever thought to take advantage of the fact that Bruce Wayne has created a habit of popping up with a new kid like every couple of years. They could try to offer up their kids to him in hopes of cashing in on the Wayne family's wealth.

And he actively turns away all of them, even if he is tempted a couple of times. At least until he gets to you. Everything was normal until your mom decided one day she was done being a parent and just dropped you off at the front gate and left when you were 9 years old. This is also around the same time Damian ended up in Bruce's care, so you both were now dealing with the fact that you've suddenly got a father you never knew, as well as a brother. Well, brothers, since Bruce did somewhat actually have children before he had you guys. 

She left a note along with your other belongings that said “Trust me. He yours,” with nothing else. Bruce could only stare down at you with that usual grim, but pondering look he had while you just stared back at him. 

“I’d thought you be taller,” was your first sentence towards your dad. One that was vaguely familiar to the billionaire as he rolled his eyes and led you inside the manor.

Obviously, Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed everything to be true. You were indeed his son, snarky remarks and all. You and Damian must share that quality.

Speaking of, since you and Damian were blood-related, you have a more special bond with each other. Even if he bullies the shit out of you.

Hiding your toys and games all around the manor, stabbing your favorite teddy bears and various stuffed items with his knives and daggers, and I'm just going to throw in that you have a love-hate relationship with Scooby-Doo now.

You love the cartoon, but Damian took advantage of the fact that you may not do well with scary stuff and would make his own costume versions of the villains from the show and chased you around the house with them. They were horrifying and disturbing enough to even unsettle Bruce a little, so you could imagine the early childhood trauma you endured.

People think your fear of clowns stems from the Joker. No, it's from Damian.

It’s always from Damian.

Plus, since you and Damian are around the same age, you both end up in the same grade at the same school. So he always keeps a look out for you and protects you from any bullies, while you teach him how to be more sociable and friendly towards others.

Now, if Damian's closest relationship with another brother outside of you is Dick (who you along with everyone else agree that he is basically Damian's second father), I imagine you have a close relationship with both Jason and Tim for various reasons.

You and Tim connect because you both have very intellectual and detail-oriented minds. You watch Scooby-Doo, so you obviously have an interest in mysteries as well as the Red Robin personality. Whenever he is having a hard time connecting dots to a case or a puzzle, you simply come in, take one look and somehow figure it out. Sometimes, you’ll even just make a random statement that ends up being the key to what Tim is looking for.

Tim and you both have an interest in video games, you a little bit more than him. It was because of you that he even really got into them. Before, when it was just you and your mom, you didn’t have anyone to really play with, besides whatever friends you could find online. So having someone you could play with, especially in person now made you and Tim’s bond that more special.

Also, you’ve made it your responsibility to make sure the guy gets adequate rest and sleep and doesn’t drown himself in caffeine.

“Timothy Drake! It is way past your bedtime. Off the Bat-Computer and upstairs into bed young man.” You yelled, marching downstairs with an amused Alfred towing behind.

Your father and siblings all watched from the sidelines as well, all amused at the sight of your young, tiny body, yelling at a slightly older and taller teenager as if you were his father.

“Um, I’m older than you,” Tim responded while holding on to what had to be his 5th coffee of the evening.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Master Tim, with all due respect, I’d do what the young lad says. He’s already started unplugging and cutting the cords to every coffee and espresso machine in the manor.” Alfred said from behind.

Tim looked at you in horror while you stared at him the look on your face very much communicating a ‘try me if you want to’ message, and that’s when he noticed the pair of scissors in your hands.

“OKAY! I’M GOING! I’M GOING!” Tim shouted, sprinting out of his seat and up to his room. Your brothers were quietly laughing until you turned your head right to them.

“And, what are you three laughing at?! Get to bed right now.”

Now, it was their turn to question you. Cause Dick and Jason were full adults and even though Damian was only a few months older than you, well that was it. He was older than you so he bossed you around, not the other way,

“Woah, there little man. Jason and I, we’re grown. We don’t have bedtimes.” Dick said.

“Yeah, squirt.” Jason voiced right behind Dick with his arms crossed.

“Watch yourself, little brother,” Damian warned.

You raised a subtle eyebrow at them while your father and Alfred both looked at you with curiosity.

Alfred, however, had a little more amusement to his look since he already knew where this was headed.

“Dick, I will never have another brother movie night with you again, and I’ll start going to Jason for brotherly advice instead of you. Also, I’ll tell Kory you were being mean to me.” You threatened your oldest brother.

Dick was both hurt and fearful because how could you even threaten him with something that awful and quite frankly, plain rude and ridiculous. He gave way better advice than Jason! Also, he knew Kory absolutely adored you ever since Bruce brought you to the tower that one time and would not hesitate to put him on punishment as well if she even thought he was being mean to you.

Jason was holding a smug look at your threat toward Dick, that is until your eyes landed on him. “Jason, I know where you keep all of your limited edition books, especially your prized signed copy of Pride & Prejudice. We certainly don’t want that getting in the wrong hands, now do we,” You said, turning to your second oldest sibling. Jason was surprised, and slightly impressed, though also terrified. How could you know?!

You turned to your blood-related brother, who held a bit of an overconfident look as there wasn’t anything you could have over him that would have him actually following your orders. “And Damian, I’m sure you don’t want dear old Dad to know what happened at school last week, now do you?” You said, playing slightly with your fingernails while ‘innocently’ rocking back on your feet as if you weren’t blackmailing your siblings. For noble reasons, of course. They need their sleep!

Your brother was both shocked and angry at your statement. How did you even know about that? The look on his face, well, let’s just say it wasn’t friendly, not in the slightest.

But, to no one’s surprise except your dad, all your siblings silently trudged upstairs without another word.

Bruce looked at you and Alfred with a raised eyebrow as you turned back to face your brooding father, only now you could see his brooding look had a hint of questionable curiosity and amazement. 

“You too, daddio. It’s bedtime, yo.” You rhymed. Apparently, not only was everyone’s sleep tracker, but you had a bit of flow with it too. Someone should get you a record deal. 

You gave your dad a slight hug, your head barely reaching above his waist. You still had growing to do! You’d get there eventually.

Walking back toward the entrance, you also made sure to stop and give the butler a fist bump since he was your secret partner-in-crime. How else would you know where to hit to get your brothers to fall in line? with a slight hug to his side before heading back towards the entrance. 

“Thanks, Alfred,” You said!

“Anytime, Master Y/N.”

Bruce eyed you both suspiciously before he realized what was going on as he watched your small body bounce up the stairs.

“Really? You’re in cahoots with my son, Alfred?”

“Why, Master Bruce, I’m offended. I’d say it was more of a beneficial partnership. Cahoots is for the reckless.” Alfred responded jokingly.

The age-old ending to every mystery novel plays out again, the butler did it.

Though, Bruce was still impressed by how easily your brothers listened to you without a second thought. It takes him a few tries just to get a sentence through their head, and that’s if they were actually listening to him that time.

“Wow, he got Jason to listen to him? I still can’t get Jason to greet me without looking him looking like he wants to punch my lights out.” Bruce commented.

“He has your commanding tone, sir,” Alfred said before backing up the manor himself, “I wouldn’t let Master Y/N catch you back down here, though. I heard he’s got some especially dirty leverage on you.”

Bruce suddenly decided to look at the clock, “Guess it is a little late,” He muttered before rushing upstairs himself.

Speaking of Jason, your relationship with the second adopted Wayne kid had more of a special touch. The Red Hood persona was the brother you really looked up to. You liked and respected how he branched out and followed his own path. Of course, Dick technically did the same, but considering everything Jason went through, he had to be one determined fucker to return to the very life that killed him. And, even though you don't necessarily agree with his 'strategies', you were always standing in his corner.

Though, Jason didn’t take well to you at first. In fact, because Damian left such a bad taste in his mouth after they met; when you two were introduced, he literally ran upstairs and screamed at Bruce about how he was the biggest hypocrite in the world for all those lectures he gave him and Dick about using protection. Richard silently agreed, also remembering his first meeting with Damian. 

Determined to not live with a Damian 2.0, and also thinking he was saving you from a life full of trauma because, in his mind, no one deserved to be raised by someone like Bruce Wayne, Jason attempted to take you down to child protective services. 

Your father was very unhappy when he got a call from CPS later that day and he could clearly hear you sobbing on the other side of the phone just as Jason walked through the front door. He was not the least bit ashamed, at least until you came home and he saw how upset you were.

He apologized and decided to give you a chance, thinking since the whole ordeal actually had you crying, you had to somewhat have a soul, unlike Damian. After some time, you got really close with each other. 

Jason taught you how to fight and defend yourself. He’d read you stories at night from some of your favorite books as well as your own, and he’d always get Damian to back off if he decided to pull another one of his scare antics on you. 

Your second eldest brother was your get-out-of-jail card too, whenever Bruce punished you for something. Though, sometimes, it may have just been better to take the punishment than let Jason pull you into whatever shenanigans he was planning. Considering the fact you and he managed to put an entire city without power for two nights somehow.

"How did you two manage to short-circuit the entire electrical grid in New York?" Bruce asked with you two standing side by side, looking like you just finished sleeping on top of a giant summer barbeque grill.

You both looked at each other before turning back to your stern-looking father, Damian mirroring his expression with his arms crossed and tapping his feet.

"Would you believe us if we said it started over a debate of how to eat fries with ketchup?"

Bruce slapped his forehead to his palm while Damian called you idiots. Tim got that curious look on his face, and Dick couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes.

Now, your eldest brother, he was definitely someone you could count on no matter what. Being the oldest and having the most Bruce experience out of everyone, he always helped you deal with your Brucie problems or ‘daddy issues’ as you'd like to say.

Truth be told, every kid in this family had daddy issues.

As mentioned before, Dick was your movie-watching buddy, he helped you with your homework and always assisted with any life issues you had going on. No matter how many times you may have threatened the Nightwing persona with such, you always went to him for advice, and there was never really a moment you could think of where you regretted it.

He also helped you learn how to be more agile and light on your feet with your fighting. While your second eldest brother taught you how to use brute force and strength in situations, he gave you the acrobatic style of lessons. Where Bruce and Jason were direct and serious, Dick taught and showed you how to be more of the opposite.

And, whenever Jason wasn't around to get Damian off your back, you'd go to him since he was basically his second dad.

You and Dick together were like two chatty Cathys on drugs. One moment, you could be talking about the movie you were watching, then you’d get into a debate over onion rings vs french fries, somehow landing in politics, somehow ending up in a political debate only to end with the "Are we even real" conversation. And for whatever reason, you swore you could hear Tim itching in his seat whenever that conversation came up.

That boy goes down a lot of YouTube rabbit holes at 2 AM when he’s bored on patrol or not doing anything.

Now, one brother on their own was one thing. Two? Someone was calling the police. Three and you may have to check if your life insurance policy is still good. All four? Pray.

Since you now were officially the youngest, a title Damian was actually happy to pass on despite his warnings to Bruce, that meant you got the most of the teasing, even if it mostly came from your blood-related sibling. But his version of teasing tended to leave you with trips to your therapist so you could do without them.

However, one rule all your siblings and family stuck by, no one, and I mean NO ONE, not even in the Justice League or Titans/Young Justice teams, could mess or pick with you except them.

Everyone in the family was very protective over you. You were surprised to see even Alfred was on that list, though you learned quickly the butler was not one to be fucked with. 

You distinctly remember that one time the Batcave got invaded and Batman made you hide in one of the saferooms, you saw on one of the video monitor screens Alfred whacking the shit outta them with just a rifle.

For that reason, among others, you took a mental note to be careful with how you complimented his cooking in the future.

But seriously, if anyone messed with you, and your family found out, Hell itself would be scared of what would break loose from your home.

A bully from school started picking on you and calling you names and you didn't tell your brothers about it, wanting to handle it on your own. Besides, you could defend yourself. They taught you well.

Until the fateful day you came out as gay, bi, pan, etc., and he called you names that your father wouldn't even repeat, and that man had the title of a playboy.

Well, word spread around the school and got back to Damian, who went back and told your other brothers.

By the next day, Dick had shredded every thread of that boy's confidence. Tim hacked the school files, got his address, and framed him for changing grades in the school. Jason used said address Tim got to pay a trip to the kid's place and shot bullet holes in all his clothes when no one was home. And well, let's just say Damian almost went to jail.

Of course, Bruce was pissed when he found out and had to intervene, but when Damian admitted the reason he nearly got arrested, your father upped his allowance.

Only God could imagine the terror that would unfold the day you started dating.

Oh, and they all call you babybird which you despise.

Don't even get me started on your sisters.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[jae-bummer]

Blocked Contacts

Request: can you please do #15 with a protective hao? like he gets snarky with the ex and drops his funny one liners. thank yooou! :)

Prompt:

15) You and your bias run into your ex.

Pairing: Seventeen The8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst

TW: Ex repeatedly contacting Y/N and showing up at their apartment.

.

Days off with Minghao were few and far between. With your opposing schedules and general life responsibilities, it was seldom you were both sharing your small apartment at the same time. When days free of responsibilities presented themselves, it was usually a gift.

Today, however, was not.

Cursing to yourself, you shut your laptop and pushed it away. You knew a disgusted expression was plain on your face as you looked up to Minghao who was casually eating his morning yogurt.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he said calmly, dragging his spoon along the bottom of the container.

"I don't know," you sighed, dropping your face into your palms.

He remained silent, the sound of metal hitting glass the only thing in the kitchen.

"If I do, I'm worried I'll get mad, and honestly, I don't want to waste that energy on him," you grumbled.

"Him?" Hao asked, trying to keep his tone casual, but you knew his curiosity had been piqued.

"My ex," you muttered, finally lifting your head. "THE ex."

"Ah," he hummed, looking back to his food. "What's he up to?"

"No idea, but he tried to message me."

"Sudden shortage of children to steal candy from?" he smirked. "Absolutely no puppies left to kick?"

"Hao," you chuckled, shaking your head. "He's not a cartoon villain."

"Forgive me, love," he sighed, leaning over to kiss you on the temple. Moving toward the sink, he dropped his spoon and spun back to face you. "But I've never met the man, so I have to go off of what you've told me."

"I hadn't realized I was giving such glowing reviews," you mused.

"Come here," Hao grinned, extending his arms, complete with grabby hands.

Narrowing your eyes at him, it took only a moment to give in. Shuffling over, you slid against his thin frame, and wrapped your arms around his waist. Nuzzling into his chest, you let out a content sigh as he rested his arms on your shoulders.

He kissed your scalp before setting his chin there. "Why are you so bothered?"

"Why aren't you?"

Hao had never been particularly jealous. He was confident in who he was, as well as your feelings for him. In his head, he had nothing to worry about, so why let an emotion as petty as jealousy creep in when he could keep it locked down?

That being said, he was human, and had gone off of his peaceful rails on occasion. This mostly happened when it came to your attention. If someone was actively trying to take away your time with him, he would have a problem with it. You were his. He had no patience for anyone who acted adversely to that.

"If I was bothered by every man who sought out to contact you, I would be incessantly grumpy," he hummed. You could hear the smile in his voice. "And at this point, I'd likely want nothing to do with any of my members and I'd be planning their demise right now."

"I kind of assumed you were planning one of their impending dooms at any given time," you teased.

"Now who's the cartoon villain?"

..

*DING*

*DING*

*DINGDING*

*DINGDINGDINGDING*

"Y/N," Minghao sighed, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Oh, so the noise is bothersome?" you laughed, dropping your phone on the coffee table. "I thought you had lost your hearing."

Pausing the program he was watching, Hao pivoted himself to face you instead of the television. "I know this is a novel idea, but have you heard of manner mode?"

"I know this is a novel idea, but have you heard of me not giving a shit?" you smirked. Pointing to your phone accusingly, you added. "Plus, I'm not the problem here."

"Well, you have my attention now," he accepted. "What's up?"

"I didn't respond to the message I got this morning," you reported. "So, homie apparently got ahold of my number somehow."

"Then block him."

"You, my love, are a genius," you beamed. "But don't you think I did that?"

Minghao rolled his eyes before scooting closer to you and picking up your phone. His face immediately warped with shock. "What is this?"

"All of the numbers he's created to contact me," you continued. "There's been at least ten at this point."

"Who does that?" he gasped, scrolling up and down. Clicking into a message, he began to read. "Why can't we just talk, Y/N? It's been so long. I've changed."

"Apparently not enough to realize I don't want to talk to him," you muttered, crossing your arms.

"Maybe it's time we start locking down you phone," Hao sighed, placing your phone back down as it continued to vibrate.

"Locking down my phone?" you asked, furrowing your brow.

Minghao pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "Yeah, it's common amongst idols. If someone isn't in your contacts, your phone simply will not allow them to call you."

"What about doctor's appointments?" you questioned, feeling increasingly nauseous about the new security suggestion. "Or if someone gets a new number? What am I supposed to do then? I don't have a manager to handle those types of things, Hao."

"I know," he groaned. "It was just a thought."

"Why should I have to change my life because he's an asshole?" you grumbled. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Short of what?" Hao chuckled, obviously frustrated. You hated that you were making this a problem for him too. Hated even more that you knew he wanted to protect you but didn't quite know how. "What do you want me to do? Hunt him down and beat some sense into his brainless head?"

"I mean, that wouldn't be entirely unappealing," you joked.

"Right," he deadpanned. "Your old boyfriend is a psychopath, and your new boyfriend is in jail for assault."

"You pretty much have a built-in gang," you grinned. "Surely at least Mingyu would be down to-"

"Y/N."

"Kidding!" you gasped, winding your body around his. "I just want him to go away."

Hao immediately melted into you, always the first to comfort when things were going sideways. "Want to order take out and forget outside communication exists?"

"That sounds lovely," you sighed. "I'll close my eyes and let you hide my phone."

"Perfect," he smiled. "No promises that I'll remember where I put it though."

"Even better."

...

You wiggled from side to side on the couch, contentment flooding through your bones. Minghao had wrapped you up in one of your softest blankets and put on one of your favorite reality shows before cuddling beside you. "I'm not sure why you watch this."

"And yet here you are," you hummed. "Brain rotting beside mine."

"I do it because I love you," he sighed. "But also, who is that? And why is the other girl yelling at him?"

"I can restart the episode, Hao," you laughed.

"No, no," he muttered, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment before he furrowed his brows. "Why would she do that?"

"Okay, I'm restarting-"

*Buzzzzzz* *Buzz Buzz*

"Is that the food?" you gasped, whipping your head toward your boyfriend. He grinned back before springing up.

"My food," he cackled. "Who said I was sharing?"

"Hao!" you gasped.

Giggling to himself, he began unlocking the handful of locks on the door before pulling it open. Swinging yourself around, you peeked over the back of the couch, eager to see what he had picked. Instead, you were surprised when he kept the door cracked and angled himself to hide whoever was on the other side.

"Well," you heard him say calmly. "This isn't my delivery."

"Who are you?"

If you hadn't continued breathing, you would have assumed your heart stopped. How had he found you? Better yet, how did he find the audacity to show up to where you lived with your new partner?

"I'm the person who lives here," Hao said slowly. "Do you have my chicken order or no?"

You knew that Hao was fully aware of what your ex-boyfriend looked like. He was simply toying with him at this point.

"Where's Y/N?"

You felt dizzy with anxiety. Why would he show up here? Sure, he was a supreme jerk when you had dated, but you never thought him capable of his behavior today.

"Who?" Hao asked, his voice all innocence. If you weren't hiding in the living room, fearing for your life, you would kiss him.

"I know they're here, man," your ex insisted. "Just let me see them."

"I have no idea who you're talking about," Hao said plainly. "They have a pretty name though."

If you were in better spirits, you would have giggled.

"Just-" you heard your ex begin to struggle as if he was attempting to move Hao out of the way, but your boyfriend stood firm.

"I would think before trying that again," Minghao said quietly, his tone venomous.

"I just..." your ex trailed helplessly. "I messed up. I want to make it right. I took time and realized that I really love Y/N."

"What's your name?" Hao asked, tilting his head.

"Jae," your ex said quietly.

"Funny," Minghao hmphed. "I haven't heard your name leave their lips. Not once. Plenty of other things though, my name included. Mostly in the dead of night, often loud enough for the neighbors to hear."

"So they're here?" Jae perked up.

You could hear Minghao sigh in defeat. Clearly, the bone head wasn't listening to him.

"They must have forgotten all about you," he said slowly. "Pity."

Backing away from the door, Hao slowly began to shut it. "I'll make one thing clear, so if you're going to clean the shit out of your ears and listen, now is the time. If you're not off my doorstep by the time my food delivery gets here, I will be calling the police.

And if you don't stop contacting Y/N, I'll make sure you'll have bigger problems than getting arrested."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I don't know what you mean," Hao said lightly, the door only open a few inches now.

"You just said-"

"You must have misheard," Hao sighed. "Anyways, tata, have a nice day."

Slamming the door and locking it immediately, Hao spun to look at you. "Baby?"

Having ducked back onto the couch, you tried to reclaim any semblance of calm. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, you popped up again and attempted a smile. "I think so?"

"I'm sorry," Hao said, immediately crossing the room toward you. Pulling your face toward his torso, he hugged your head while you were still sitting.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" you asked, looking up at him. He had done so much for you in the past day, let alone since you had been together. You didn't know if you could possibly love him any more than you did in this moment.

"That was the last thing I wanted you to have to experience," he sighed. You could tell the exchange had shaken him up more than he wanted to admit.

"Well," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. "You were extremely hot."

"Was I?" he chirped, tilting his head.

"Being assertive suites you," you grinned.

"Unfortunate," he hummed. "Because I wasn't a fan."

"That's fine," you said happily, burying your face into his stomach. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Sagau but the reader travels often to other worlds and often brings back with a kids and acolytes are like

Acolytes: your grace who is that kid?

Reader: well the world I visited the kid was treated like the trash by pepole so....I taken the kid and NUCKED the pepole of that world = )

Acolytes:oh........WAIT WHAT!?

something like this and that often happens to point of the reader creates orphanage for "mistreated kids of the multiverse" and like there are characters of other games anime or cartoons who were treated badly becose of bullshit reasons reader didn't like that of the took the one or more kids( sometimes reader takes even 100 kids onec) and nukes the places that were responsible for making those kids live miserable now image the archons reaction the first time that situation happens vs the situation where the archons gose with reader to stop them form radical decision but something happens that passes archons so much that they helps reader

Ooh, interesting...sure, let's give it a try! I'm not gonna mention who the other kids of the other universes and series are in this, so prepared for very vague descriptions of them. Sorry, Anon—I'm having a little bit of writer's block as I'm doing this.

I also hate to inform you but I also deleted your other request :') It's mainly because I don't have any motivation and I'm too lazy to look at my old posts LOL- But still, sorry :')

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC, Mentions of Violence, Kidnapping adopting children from other fandoms, implied other fandoms (though never mentioned) & Mentions of Nukes & Nuking)

You love Teyvat. You really do—but many times, it gets a boring. It feels like there's nothing to do.

But! Luckily, you had a good solution to this. You could travel the other fandoms/universes you like, just to see your favorite characters and enjoy the scenery around you!

So you did. It was pretty okay, all of the trips, honsetly.

Until it wasn't. Just who did these pesky idiots think they were? You were going to show them what they truly are.

Dead Meat! (no pun intended/not copying from Dehya's elemental burst now that I think about it-)

— — —

Your acolytes were surprised that you brought back an unknown child. A child that looks...unlike the Almighty Creator, and certainly not of Teyvat. How strange...

"Your Grace, who is this?" one of the acolytes speak. You look over at them blankly, before beaming with a smile.

"Oh, this little guy here?" You show the child. "I save them from people of another world that kept treating them like trash—so, naturally, I nuked the entire country and left."

Ah, so that's where the child came from....

Hold up a minute, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!

Nahida

While she certainly likes the fact that you were protecting others, she doesn't exactly like or even want to know what kind of arson you committed on behalf of the child...

Nevertheless, she'll help try to make the new friend welcome to Teyvat, so that everyone is happy!

She was certainly not expecting you to bring more children from other worlds here on Teyvat, to the point you even established the "Mistreated Kids of The Multiverse Centre" (MKOTMC for short), where every single child you kidnapped adopted would go to. Nevertheless, she'll still try to befriend all of them!

"Let's go and get some snacks after we play!" Really nice and welcoming to them all—after all, she's a child herself! Yet, despite this, she can't help but feel a little concerned of your methods of taking in children and even going as far as to destroy worlds for their sake...

Where those other worlds that bad?

Venti

Now, as much as this guy can cover his emotions, he cannot mask the shock he felt when he saw the amount of children at the MKOTMC for the very first time.

I'm starting off at this part because this man was not one of the acolytes that were informed of the Almighty Creator's return. And it ticked him off, he wasn't going to lie.

Nevertheless, he decides to take on the job and be the children's entertainer! He is a bard for a reason, you know~

"Haha, the same song again? Well, if you all insist, let this humble bard begin his song!" Other than Nahida, Venti is literally their favorite babysitter. This guy plays them music with a lyre and it's super good!

He wouldn't really care much about your "adopting" phase you're currently going through, but he is telling you to stop killing every world you despise.

Yes, he's getting flashbacks to Khean'riah because of it. That's why.

Ei

She would definitely be there the moment you "adopted" your first child from a different world. She is absolutely a) horrified of what the child has gone through (you put the effort to going into detail to what they've been put through without the child there, ofc) and b) pretty terrified of the fact that you would explode an entire world just because of it.

of course, she does try to justify your actions in her own head—she doesn't like the idea of putting blame on your image, even if it might be true.

She doesn't exactly know how to deal with children, but she does swear that she will protect them with all her power. She's trained heavily in the martial arts for a reason, and Ei is determined to not let it go to waste.

"Worry not, Your Grace—there will be no danger to the children you adopted so long as I shall stand to protect them." Literally makes it an oath, and you have to take it seriously or you will be shocked at the guard shifts the Electro Archon made.

She and the Puppet Shogun make sure that they manage both Inazuma and the grounds of MKOTMC.

Because you know there will be others that would take the job of guarding the children at the Centre, as well as Ei's guard shifts she established, you promoted her to "Head of Security Shifts" and, boy, she if you thought she was taking it seriously before, she is taking it BEYOND serious.

Really, if someone wanted to kidnap a child from the Centre they are facing the Musou no Hitotachi head on.

Zhongli

Old Grandpa was also there when the first child was brought to Teyvat. This guy makes it his mission to a) try to persuade you to not nuke an entire world just for the child and b) try to entertain the child with folktales of all the seven nations of Teyvat.

When MKOTMC was established, all the children basically knew this man as the Storyteller since he loves to indulge them in past times and old stuff.

Not only that, but most of them are pretty addicted to what he's gotta tell them.

"Ah, you wish to hear another story? Hm...very well. I have just the one." Would gladly indulge them ngl.

Joins the MKOTMC Security Squad once you established thanks to Ei's persistence. Though he tries to minimizes the amount of shifts he takes because he still wants to retire from being a War God and all that.

Also is traumatized of the Khean'riah incident and would also try to talk you out of destroying worlds you despise.

AND WE ARE DONE! BOY, I AM SO TIRED 😭 BUT ITS ALR SINCE THIS IS WHERE MOTIVATION COMES FROM—

Alright, see you all around! :D

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Not even related to what I wrote but AZHDAHA MY BOY YESSS LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—

Ahem, anyways, back onto topic. I tried to vaguely mention which fandoms the children are from because, let's be honest, there is way too many fandoms out there and I cannot even begin to imagine how much research I'll have to put in just to list a few for this fanfic. I would've died before I even get to write it lol.

I also mainly decided to focus on how the archons would take care of the children after the initial shock. You know—just for more tea and all that lol. I hope you all liked it :)

Check Out The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description To See if Their Mailbox is Open!

[ms-scarletwings]

Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Request: Wally with a Child!Reader who snuck backstage during a special live taping of Welcome Home to see him, as he is their favorite character

Oh this idea is cute!!! I like the trope of humans and puppets/cartoons coexisting (like in who framed roger rabbit) so im absolutely using that here

........

"Aaaand that's a wrap! Thank you all for coming to our exclusive live taping of Welcome Home! Be sure to gather up all your things before leaving through the exits on either side of the studio. Wally and his friends appreciate each and every one of you visiting their neighborhood!!"

The director's voice echoed over the intercom as the audience's applause gradually died down, with you being the last one to clap. Your hands almost hurt, but you didn't care. The smile on your face was huge

You still couldn't believe that you and your family got to actually see the entire Welcome Home cast in-person!

Especially Wally.

It's probably lame to say you liked the main character as a majority of the show's fans probably did...but it was true. You loved listening to his narrations, seeing him paint, and getting into all sorts of shenanigans with the gang.

During this live taping--which you won tickets to--he interacted with the audience a lot with his sweet eyes and warm smile, taking all of you on a journey into his world. You could see he was really happy to interact with all of you.

And that's why you were kinda sad when the curtains closed and the camera crew started packing up things, realizing it was already over. They still had a lot of work to do before they could put the episode on the usual television station Welcome Home was featured on, so they made sure every guest was out of the studio.

But fortunately, none of them noticed you sneaking down the steps and managing to find the door conveniently labelled "Backstage Access".

You knew you could get into a lot of trouble, though your family was catching up with some friends and their children. So surely they won't notice you were gone for quite a while.

You just really wanted to see Wally and personally tell him you're his biggest fan. It would make his day!

Eventually you did find him sitting by himself at the makeup booth, in front of a mirror surrounded by lights. His blue cardigan was draped over the chair, and he rolled up his sleeves before undoing the ascot around his neck. All the while, he smiled at his reflection dreamily with half-lidded eyes.

He looked a little tired, but happy nevertheless.

You would have approached him...if not for the director abruptly showing up, a stack of script papers in his hand. He seemed upset and annoyed, compared to the cheery tone he had earlier, so you just hid behind one of the large loudspeakers, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Look, Wally. How many times do we have to go over this?" He huffed. "You need to ease up on the excessive eye contact. It's been giving a few of my cameramen the creeps."

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry, sir. But..I thought that's what people liked.." Pouting slightly, the puppet looked at him, resting his elbow on the armchair to prop his chin up. "Where else can I look if not the camera or adoring audience? I can't just stare at the ceiling, y'know."

"..well it helps to blink every once in a while. That's what we humans do so it doesn't look like we're staring into each other's souls....like you're doing right now."

"Ah...am I..? Haha.." Wally laughed uncomfortably, forcing himself to blink as he fidgeted with the ascot in his hands. He looked down at the floor. "Sorry. It's just a habit-"

"Don't make excuses, Wally. I know eye contact is essential to your character but...I'm sure you wouldn't feel comfortable if I stared at you like that all the time, right?"

"Actually that wouldn't bother me at all." He gazed at the director with a polite smile, only for it to drop as he looked furious.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"...no? I'm only being honest, sir."

"...whatever. I have my lunch break now, so just...try to get what we discussed through your head." The director huffed, shaking his head before he turned and walked away, bumping into one of his assistants.

"You good, boss?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine..it's that damn puppet. I keep reminding him about his staring problem, but it's like I'm talking to a brick wall.."

Although he could barely hear them, Wally knew that he made the director upset...again. And that turned his usual smile upside down as he looked back into the mirror.

"I don't get it...everybody loved the show..." He muttered to himself, touching up his hair, but not even seeing his own reflection could cheer him up. "So why is he so...angry at me all the time?"

You frowned slightly as you watched his shoulders slump, hating how sad he sounded. That director of his was so cruel! He didn't know what he was talking about!

Determined to help your favorite character feel better, you finally gained the confidence to say something and emerge from your hiding spot.

"What am I doing wrong?"

"I...think you're doing your best, Wally. Don't listen to him."

"Huh..?" Surprised, he looked over and saw you shyly standing beside the loudspeaker, blinking in bewilderment that you were able to sneak back here unnoticed. "Oh hello, Neighbor--! I mean..." He paused, a bashful smile on his face. "S-Sorry, it's-

"Habit? Don't worry, it's okay." You reassured, stepping closer to him as you tried your best to contain your excitement. "You can call me Neighbor..or [y/n], if you wanna."

"[Y/n]..that's a nice name." He nodded, although his gaze turned serious as his eyes flickered left and right, before he leaned down to get closer to you. "It's nice to meet you, but I'm afraid you've must've taken a wrong turn. You can't be back here."

"I know, but..I really wanted to see you! You're my favorite and..I didn't like what that mean man said to you."

"Oh..him? Don't fret, my friend." Wally softly chuckled. "That "mean man" is my director and...he's only suggesting how I can improve myself! He can be blunt sometimes, but I have to listen to him. Just like how you have to listen to your parents and teachers."

"Yeah.....but he didn't have to be so rude." You huffed, hands on your hips. "If he has a problem with your staring, it's his fault, not yours. He's just a big ol' dummy."

He was amused by your attempts to defend him so fiercely, and he couldn't help but break into an even bigger smile.

"I agree, he is a big dummy..but that's a secret between you and me." He winked, before hopping down from his chair, opening his arms up to you. "Well thank you for lifting my spirits, dear [y/n]. I wish I had something for you, but...this is all I can offer."

"That's okay! I'm happy to help!" Nodding, you eagerly hugged him, feeling how soft his plush body was. "You're...not gonna tell anyone I'm here, will you?"

"Nope. Why would I do that to my number one fan?"

All you could do was beam at his compliment.

This was truly the best day ever. Not only did you get to meet Wally face-to-face...but you also helped him feel better!

Sneaking backstage was absolutely worth it.

[dadsbongos]

astro boy - y.itadori

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - my shonen trope writing is showing, idk stink monster? word count - 1.2 K / rating - PG

“This is disgusting!” Nobara huffs, stomping down on the cracked pavement below, “And they couldn’t have given us temporary uniforms or something?!”

Megumi shrugs, but the crinkle in his brows and the downturn of his lips cannot hide his revulsion, “Not like we can just back out now.”

Yuuji and yourself, meanwhile, are crouched over the manhole cover that Ijichi said you’d need to go down. You look at the boy, head tilted, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” he jumps up, clapping his hands, “I can get it no problem.”

“If you’re sure…” you slink back, nudging toward Nobara and Megumi as Yuuji kneels back down and slithers his fingers into the cover's holes.

He’s so sure. It might even impress you, how he’s able to so casually throw aside an entire manhole cover. You were the first person to welcome him to Tokyo. It helps that he finds you even prettier than Jennifer Lawrence, and even though he’s never gotten the honor to meet her: he’s certain you’re nicer, too. You just have to be.

“Is your back okay? You lifted with your legs, right?!” you rush over as soon as Yuuji’s tossed the metal disc.

You’re like an angel, after all.

“Yeah, ‘m all good!”

Megumi comes up between the both of you, nodding towards the sewer’s gaping maw. If this were a children’s cartoon, then you imagine toxic chartreuse fumes would be ribboning out in thick streams. You’re worried the stench may cling to your clothes.

“I’ll go down first, then you and Kugisaki, and Itadori - you’ll be last.”

Nobara lays her cheek against your shoulder from behind, “Huh? Trying to be a gentleman, Fushiguro?”

“I just don’t want you idiots making us fill out injury reports,” he grumbles, already waist-deep into the darkness and continuing down.

“Hey!” Nobara snaps, shuffling by you and Yuuji to go down the metal rungs, “Don’t you dare look up!”

Just before he sinks completely into the murky black, you catch Megumi’s aggravated grunt of, “As if I would ever…”

“Well, guess it’s my turn,” you hold Yuuji’s arm for balance as you slot your foot securely over one of the lower rungs, beaming up at him with a quickly chirped, “thanks!” before releasing him.

Yuuji can barely feel the lower half of his face with how hard he’s cheesing, but he certainly feels the thunder in his chest. His eyes follow you down, a breathy, wide-eyed, “yeah, no problem…” to pair with your gratitude.

“God, I can’t see anything…” he hears Nobara as his eyes take their time adjusting to the dark.

“Here, there’s…” the electric buzz and hum of a flickering flashlight, Megumi hits the shuddering bulb before it sparks to life and stays on, “this.”

Yuuji looks out at his group, the faint glow of Megumi’s flashlight glistens along their faces. Then it illuminates the dark, puddled pavement below their feet. Then the murky stew of browns and greens flowing to their collective right. Then straight ahead.

“Ah, shit.”

What Yuuji hears next is a sharp, piercing shrill from Nobara as she and Megumi are snatched by the ankles, and sucked into the gelatinous, translucent, vaguely putrid body of a curse. A gasp follows it, you shuffle back with a hurried look over your shoulder, reaching out for him. Like a nightmare, then, you’re pulled into the revolting, jiggly mass.

“Itadori!” is the last he hears you shriek.

That singe of fear down his spine is still apparent, even though this is far from being his first mission, but the sight of his friends floating, trapped in that goo is more compelling. He switches the weight on his feet, hands balling so tightly his nails snag into the meat of his palms.

“I’ll save you!” he’s referring to the group, but for some odd reason he only looks up at you, “I swear it!”

The blob wiggles with its giggling, a singular eye tearing over Yuuji’s smaller frame. A waft of frozen air curls through the sewer sending shivers racking through the boy’s body.

Above him, the curse’s voice echoes between sewage drips, layered like a scratchy, out-of-pitch choir, “Bring… a… jacket…!”

Another shiver, unrelated to the temperature, racks through him. Yuuji isn’t sure he’ll ever be accustomed to those chittering tones.

Instead, he swallows his fear and dips low, ready to launch himself forward with cursed energy coursing through his fists.

The curse lashes droopy, bubbling tentacles at Yuuji, but they are no match for the sputtering, repeated blows of the boy’s attacks. He strikes decisively and quickly, ferociously battering against the flabby curse until it rolls back: squelching and crying.

Foam leaks from the flattened bottom, bubbles rise to the surface, and the whole curse wriggles once. Then twice.

Its eye widens.

“So… cold…!”

And it pops.

Putrid, green slime bursts over Yuuji. Weighing his clothes down and slicking back sections of his hair. After clearing the fluids from both eyes, Yuuji rushes towards you.

“Are you okay?”

Yuuji uses the dry pads of his thumbs to swipe the slime off of your face, then carefully lifts your crumpled form by your forearms. He lets his hands linger, masquerading the need for your skin on his as concern.

“Hm,” you can still smell the morbid rot of the curse’s body around yours, “Yeah, I think I’m okay…”

His honeyed eyes are glassy, they scrounge over your body to double-check. As if you would miss some gaping flesh wound that he wouldn’t. Finally, he meets your gaze, and the pinched nature of his expression drops, a contented smile taking its place.

“Good,” he speaks softly, so unlike his natural boisterous greed for attention.

“You know,” Megumi calls, “We were in there, too.”

Nobara kicks the back of Yuuji’s knee, sending him into the frosty concrete below, “At least try to hide your favoritism, huh?!”

“It’s like you were only trying to save one of us,” Megumi smacks Yuuji up his head.

“Well then,” you lean down, arms circling Yuuji’s neck as he kneels before you. You press your slimy face against his, “I guess he’s only my hero!”

“Barf!” Nobara gags, already waving both of you off as she plucks her uniform from sticking against her skin, “This better come out, Fushiguro!”

“Why is it my fault?!”

“You were supposed to be our leader!”

The two continue to bicker as you pull Yuuji up from the ground, “Good job being the only one not caught, Itadori.”

He beams at the praise, warmth fluttering through his chest and tickling all down the ladder of his ribs, “It was nothing!” his fingers itch to card through yours, “I just wanted to make sure you three were safe.”

“Of course, we were,” you take the initiative and squeeze his hand in yours, “You were here to save us…” you laugh to yourself, refraining from a brutal cringe at the lingering scent of death from the curse’s remains, “Even though you’re the newest one to this.”

Yuuji wants to say something suave. Something to knock you off your feet and into his arms, but he is interrupted.

“Come on!” Megumi twists a hand into the cherry fabric of Yuuji’s hoodie, yanking the boy along, “We need to make sure the place is empty now.”

“Go easy on him!” you shout, and Yuuji grins at your defense.

Nobara loops an arm through yours, pulling you flush against her side, “I’m so not looking forward to washing this out…”

Eyes still on Yuuji trying (and failing) to scramble onto both feet while Megumi pulls him, you nod slowly with a faint smile gracing your lips, “Yeah, totally…”

“Hey! Pay attention when I speak!”

“Yeah, totally…”

[panfilka]

Funny Animal Open Mouth with Teeth for Dentist, Cute Healthy Smile for Children Clock 

Funny Animal Open Mouth with Teeth for Dentist, Cute Healthy Smile for Children. Great for Dentist or Dental Staff Workers on National Denstists Day. For everyone who likes healthy teeth. By Panfilka

[harveywritings92]

[Single dad! Soap au: R/n is a kindergarten teacher is throwing a little party for the kiddos at the end of school, they homemade treats out and the children are watching a Halloween movie She’s waiting on parents to come get the kids, when the MacTavish twins (a boy and girl pair.) were apparently terrified of the concept of cartoon children receiving rocks for treats instead of candy, they come up to her absolutely sobbing.]

Girl! Twin: Can you turn off the movie, please? It’s too scary!

R/n: I’m sorry sweetie, all the other kids are enjoying it. How about we go to the other side of the cafeteria and play a board game, instead?

Boy! Twin: That won’t work!

R/n: Why not?

Girl! Twin: BECAUSE WE CAN’T LOOK AWAY!

[Cut to R/n with one crying twin on each knee, terrified but adamantly refusing to look away from the movie. Luckily Soap showed up a few minutes later, very confused why his children were crying, after a quick explanation they managed calm the kids by reminding them that they’ll be getting real candy for Halloween and not dirty rocks.]

Soap: I’m really sorry for that, I never thought something like the Great Pumpkin could cause such a reaction.

R/n: It’s fine Mr. MacTavish, I wouldn’t be good kindergarten teacher if I didn’t have to soothe the occasional kid meltdown.

Soap, nodding: Ah, Please call me Johnny or Soap. I never cared for that ‘Mister’ business.

R/n: Okay, Johnny, just let them cool down I’m sure once they go out trick or treating they’ll forget about the whole thing.

Soap: Yeah…

(Soap cheeks were dusted pink as he checks around to maker sure the other parents aren’t watching.) 

Soap: We’re still on for Saturday, right?

R/n: *Kisses Soap on the cheek* Oh, don’t you know it!~

[Soap smiles like a dope as he gets in his car and drives off, R/n waves goodbye to him.]

[snaggie-t00th]

HALLO :D

i do apologize that i didn't have a snippet out like i wanted but, compromise, here's the whole damn thing. i also switched some stuff around in ch2 for continuity reasons :3

i got very very busy with prepping for an art faire (if anyone knows where to get cheap high quality prints let a mf know PLSSS) and i was muy busy. but we're back. and echo's a sweet dork.

mando'a translations!

ke'pare - wait/hold on

ge'tal - red

vor'e - thanks

udesii - chill out/its okay

gender neutral pronouns, no y/n usage, only main descriptor im sticking to about the reader is that you're ginger. cus i am. sorry nerds.

-immediately follows the events of the preceding chapter-

You were fighting back a smile. You had no idea that some of the clones knew Mando’a, let alone that the Mandolorian-adoptee turned clone-donor Jango Fett was taught during his short time on your home planet. You wondered if it was something the Kaminoans decided or if they all went about teaching themselves in Jango’s honor. The idea of a bunch of clone soldiers sitting around a Mando’a children’s dictionary makes the smile stitching onto your face that much harder to fight.

“I’m sorry about Tech. He can be, ah, a lot.” Echo grimaced while swiveling around the copilot’s seat, presenting it to you.

You obliged, and sat down. “Oh he’s fine. There’s plenty of topics I could infodump about, just as annoyingly. I just have a bad habit of my thoughts becoming verbal.” You shook your head, soft auburn tresses flicking about. The lights from the cockpit glinted around the natural highlights of your hair, and it didn’t escape Echo’s gaze.

The man cleared his throat. “Still, I appreciate you being so accommodating of my brothers. Nat-borns don’t seem to get it, you know?”

You furrowed your brow and cocked your head slightly to the left, looking him in the eyes. While he didn’t physically shudder, you could see the slight panic pulse in his iris when you met his gaze.

“Where do you think clones get their camaraderie and brotherhood from?”

Echo shrugged. “Kaminoans, I presume?”

You barked a laugh. “Well, yes. Ke’pare, what did they tell you guys about Mandalore?”

“Not much. Jango was around for the first few years, but I rarely saw him. He didn’t seem to hold much emotion for the regs. He seemed to like the higher ups, but I didn’t become an ARC Trooper until I was shipped off that wet rock.” Echo finally slumped into his chair opposing you. As he spoke, he slowly relaxed into his seat, his hinges quietly scraping together as he moved. Once again his amber eyes met yours, a new twinkle seeming to arrive.

“You know more than you let on, ge’tal.” Echo said, narrowing his gaze.

He seemed to be sizing you up. Trying to parse out his next line of questioning. Truthfully, you were better at it than him. While his observation skills have been battle-tested, the ease in which you peppered questions at him showed years of practice he was simply unable to acquire. Outside of the occasional conversation at 79’s or a senator he was required to escort, Echo’s entire social sphere only extends to his brothers. You made him nervous. In a very good way.

You blushed at the newly acquired nickname. “I prefer to call it ‘not showing my full hand’, but I’ll slide a few cards your way since you seem cute.”

The back of Echo’s neck started to bloom a soft red. He rubbed a palm on his knee, mindlessly self soothing. “Seem? What, the gray skin and hollow cheeks not working their magic?” He joked, gesturing to each feature respectively with a pointed index finger.

“You seem to deflect compliments because you can’t believe them, so I was starting small.” You extended your own index finger and poked at his shoulder, annunciating the seem.

The now-scarlet tint of Echo’s neck began to creep towards his face. Eyes darting towards the floor, he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He pressed his lips together for a moment. The only thing he got out was a weak “Vor’e.”

“Udesii. I came here, didn’t I?” Your face softened. Echo’s almost immediate vulnerability around you made your knees feel like jelly, and you were sending a silent prayer somewhere that you were both sitting down. “You’re not gonna scare me off, but you can’t immediately go cracking jokes just ‘cus I said you’re handsome.” You continued. Soft, yet firm. You weren’t allowing Echo to talk poorly of himself, even in jest.

Echo nodded, meeting your gaze once more. He looked off for a moment, seemingly in thought, before returning your gaze and asking softly: “How do you always know what to say?”

You let out one quick heh. “Since I found someone to give the words to.” You reply cheekily.

Echo smiled once more and dipped his head. “Walked into that one huh?”

You both smiled, and a comfortable silence began to envelope the two of you. Both of you were looking out on the horizon. The sky was a deep pink and purple haze, stippled with the indigo hues of the impending twilight. Echo was scanning the distance, as if anything alive would be out there, let alone a threat. You were content watching the 2 ½ clouds in the sky move millimeters at a time, but something told you to look at your companion. Gazing at him, your eyes slowly roved up his face. His jaw was set in a defined line, lightly gritted in concentration. His cheeks were hollow, but his cheekbones sat quite prominently, catching the light. This, juxtaposed with his deep set eyes, allowed the light to dance right at the forefront of his face. As if a candle was eye level with him, across the room.

“See anything cool?” You finally speak, hoping Echo didn’t catch you staring.

“Nah, perimeter check. I’m sure all I’ll see is bones and dirt but, old habits die hard.” He replied, not looking away. After a beat, he nodded, and seemingly relaxed the scrutinous gaze he had moments ago.

“Huh. So, what makes your squad different from the other clones, other than haircuts, tattoos, and builds?” You change the subject.

“Being experimental meant the Kaminoans could enhance certain characteristics. Wrecker’s strength, Tech’s smarts, Crosshair’s accuracy, and Hunter’s senses.” Echo spun his chair to face you and threw one leg over the other.

“Huh.” You think for a moment before replying. “So you think Hunter heard us approach?”

Echo nodded. “And I’m willing to bet he’s going to call me a serf for the next 3 rotations.”

You barked out a laugh before realizing his implication. A hand shot over your mouth and your eyes grew wide.

The man laughed. “Just be glad he’s not close enough to hear your heartbeat.”

“What CAN’T he hear?” You said, mildly exasperated. “How do you get any privacy?”

“He’s got noise canceling headphones but that’s mainly for his own sanity. Wrecker got them for him after his snoring kept him up for 3 days in a row.” You laughed at that, and Echo felt a twinge of pride before continuing. “He showed up in the cockpit one morning with his bandana over his nose and Omega had to ask him about his new fashion choices.”

You let out a series of giggles at that, holding your stomach slightly as you lean forward into it. If your eyes weren’t scrunched shut, you would’ve seen Echo’s face bloom in 4 different shades of pink. Every single part of him was committing this to memory. The way your eyes crinkled at the sides. The way your cheeks almost wanted to push your eyes out of their sockets. He never wanted this to end, the sounds of your joy echoing across the hold of the Marauder.

——————

Hours had passed, the sun well below the horizon by this hour. The sky was peppered with numerous constellations and star systems, the names of which always seeming to escape you. The deep blue sea of sky felt more vast than ever in your little perch aboard the Marauder.

You and Echo went back and forth, sharing tidbits from your respective lives up until this point. You learned about the Rishi Moon incident that gave Echo his ARC status, he learned about the Siege that gave way to your arrival here. He told you about the Domino Squad, you told him about your own clan’s untimely demise. Hours of stories shared back and forth, as if you were both once stationed on the same battlefield and then whisked away, only to be brought back together once more after all these years. But there was no mutual history to draw upon this familiarity from. The two of you just fell into a steady rhythm. One that you’d individually practiced and honed for years, like a song that was never intended for a duet, only for the two to sound identical.

“...And that’s where I learned Keldabe Handshakes are applicable as a neutralizing tactic across species.” You finished, explaining the first and only time a Shriek-Hawk has successfully taken you off guard.

“Charming.” A voice hissed, and then a pair of boots dropped to the ground with a soft thunk. “Echo, shouldn't you be putting your toys away? It’s late.” Crosshair slunked into the cockpit, seemingly from the shadows. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I must be a pretty expensive toy to trade for speeder brakes.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised you’ve never been with someone and lost track of time, Cross. That does tend to require social skills and, y’know, liking people?” Echo crossed his arms and stared his brother down.

“Well unless they’re taking your bunk, you should tell Tech someone’s joining him in the cockpit tonight. It’s too late to take them back now.” Crosshair seemed to spit the last part of the sentence, annoyed that someone else is in his space and bothering his brothers. While you understood hesitancy, you felt as if he reveled in his current position rather than proceeding with caution.

Echo turned to you and looked into your eyes softly. “It’s up to you.”

“I’m already cramping an already small ship. I can kick it up here with Tech for the night.” You said, smiling. While you very badly wanted to just crawl into Echo’s bunk with him, you weren’t doing that the first day. Plus, you don’t know how Echo feels about his personal space, or his sleeping positions, or if he prefers one side of the b—

“How touching.” Crosshair cut off your thoughts with the remark. He spun on his heel, and disappeared just as quickly as he appeared. Echo sneered at the doorway.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping up here. Like I said, Tech can be a lot sometimes.” Echo looked back at you, eyes full of worry.

“Tell you what, I’ll come get you if he’s being too much and we can switch, okay?” You compromise, getting the understanding that Echo’s going to worry either way.

“Deal.” Echo said firmly with a nod, and stands up. “For as much of a dick as he is, Crosshair’s right, it is rather late.” You nod and shrug slightly in agreement.

Echo turns to you and leans down. “Try and get some rest.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek before turning on his heel and borderline speeding out of the room.

When the door shuts automatically, you ghost your hand along your cheek, and an uncontrollable smile breaks across your face.

I think he likes me.

[sabraeal]

at home with the glass half empty, Part 1

[Read on AO3]

It’s not that Nanami expected fanfare when he returned to the realm of curses and sorcerers; they hardly have time to mourn their dead, let alone celebrate the living. It’s only…

There should be more to it than this. More than Gojo-senpai’s crooned, ‘Nanami-kun’ crackling over the speaker of his phone, rousing him before even the sun's bothered to heave itself over the horizon. More than the mission brief being a location and time couched in a stream of that idiot's nonsense, more than showing up at to the rendezvous as the sole adult not wearing his high school uniform--

More than the situation going pear-shaped at the moment of contact. At least, that's what he'd thought there'd be when he still trained under these people. Last minute texts seemed normal when he was just some shitty teenager; when he was just some student called in as an afterthought once instructors had deemed the situation safe enough to stand in for a lesson. He'd assumed that when he was an adult, when he finally became a peer rather than a pupil, he'd finally be privy to all the secret strategies the other sorcerers seemed to know down to their bones

Now he'd just settle for a plan before they turned a children’s park into a battleground.

Cursed energy drips off his knuckles, liquid in a way real fire never could be. It flickers with the same frantic rhythm as his breath, a flare of flame before it extinguishes itself on the concrete. That had been the reason he’d left, wasn’t it? That there never had been a plan. That their only way of fighting the creeping tide of humanity’s apathy was to throw more bodies at the problem until it was solved.

Even if those bodies were children.

“Threat neutralized,” he pants, quenching the cursed energy licking over his shoulders. They tense in its wake, braced for a fight long over. “…Gojo-san.”

“As expected from my reliable kouhai!” A lanky arms slings itself over his shoulders, drawing him far too close to that smug smile. “Tell me, was it fun? Is it just like old times?”

“I’ve been doing this for a year.” And Gojo-senpai— intolerable, as always— never changes his script. Unbelievable that they gave this man dominion over children. “It’s shit.”

He nods, sagely. “Just like old times.”

Isn’t that the truth. Nanami plucks his blazer off the carousel's rail, slinging it over his shoulders. “If there’s nothing else…?”

“What? You’re not going to stick around? Reminisce about old times?” Gojo’s lip juts out, wounded. “Come on, Nanami-kun—”

“I told you not to call me that.” They’re work colleagues, not classmates.

“You were a salaryman, weren’t you? You know about post-work drinks. Happy Hour?”

He hadn’t gone to those either, not once it was clear he would make more money on overtime than schmoozing for a promotion. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Lunch, then,” Gojo-senpai decides far too quickly. As if he’d already planned— “I made bento!”

Ah, there it is. The metal teeth snapping shut on this trap. “All right,” he sighs, slumping under his senpai’s weight. “Show me this…bento.”

*

The paper bag should have been his warning. It’s rumpled, like it’d been pulled out of the bin, the top not even neatly rolled down but merely clenched shut in Gojo-senpai’s fist, like a cartoon bank robber making his getaway.

“I made your favorite,” he says, so saccharine Nanami’s teeth ache. “What is it you always get now? The casse-croute.”

The casse-croûte is a light meal— a snack, really, though a substantial one— an idea that includes but is not exclusive to sandwiches. What he prefers is the jambon-buerre, the parisien, a baguette slathered in butter and layered with Paris ham— or more often, prosciutto— lettuce and brie. But the konbini around here don’t make a distinction between the two, and by the terrible mockery Gojo-senpai’s mouth makes of a French accent, neither will he.

He takes the bag anyway, top pinched between two of his fingers. Between the grit of his teeth, Nanami manages, “Thank you for the meal.”

What he finds inside is…unspeakable.

“Is this…?” His mouth works, at a loss. “Mozzarella?”

“Nice, isn’t it?” Gojo-senpai’s nose wrinkles above his own egg salad, pressed sloppily between two slices of white bread. “Better than that stinky stuff they usually put on. You know it has a rind?”

The bread squishes beneath his fingers— not a baguette at all, not even a French loaf, but some sort of mass-produced bread-like product. A...sandwich roll, shoved into a plastic bag with a half dozen other of its ilk, sold for cheap and then bought by this absolute fool to be split in twain and abet this blasphemy trying to pass as a sandwich. The lettuce is soggy and— he’s pretty sure— shredded. Maybe even iceburg.

Even still, his mouth salivates. Not for this abomination, but the superior sandwich it apes; the same way cursed spirits shuffle, mere shadows of the human fears that birth them. One sitting behind a glass case, wrapped in crinkling film, crusty bread glimmering enticingly beneath the bakery’s lights. He can taste it, the funk of the cheese and the crispness of the lettuce, the baguette shedding sesame as it yielded to his teeth. And the girl behind the counter—

It’s much better than the konbini’s, isn’t it? The curse coiled on her shoulder cocked its fly-head to match hers, as if it had a share in her pride. As if it were anything more than a leech, sucking the life out of her sip by sip, until only a hollowed-out shell remained. He’d gotten rid of it; his last gift to the world he’d left behind. To the girl who made the perfect jambon-buerre.

A year ago now. His mouth twists. A lot can happen in a year. Do her shoulders still sit so proud? So easy? If he went back, would he find her still smiling, or would there be another one of those worms wrapped around her neck, squeezing tighter every night. Killing her day by day, unchecked, no sorcerer to—

Nanami balls up the bag, sandwich and all, and throws it into the nearest bin. That has nothing to do with him now.

“What’s the matter, Nanami-kun?” Gojo sing-songs, impossibly long limbs sprawled over the bench, taking up as much space as his smile. “Don’t like the sandwich? What’s wrong, too much mayo?”

Mayo. He pinches his nose, adjusting the way his glasses straddle it. “I don’t like anything about this.”

The sandwich, the job. The growing amount of cursed spirits spawning around the city. The strange way Gojo-senpai smiles when he asks about it. Gojo-senpai in general.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Gojo's must as well; he slips his out from his trousers, brows knitted as his eyes scan over the message.

“Lucky us,” he drawls, smirk stiff as a carcass across the spread of his lips. “Another cursed spirit, and only a few streets over.”

Nanami frowns as the man unfurls from the bench, casual as a cat on its way to batter yet another mouse. “There’s more now, aren’t there? That’s why you were all so happy to have me back.”

“Whatever do you mean, my dear kouhai?” Gojo swings close— too close, his mouth all teeth. “Clearly we missed your scintillating personality.”

“It’s gotten worse.” He doesn’t need to see the man’s eyes to know how tightly he’s holding them, not when the rest of him is strung as taut as piano wire. “You think they’re going to overrun us, the way they did when Geto-san—”

“See? There he is.” One of those long hands reach out, patting him on the cheek. Slapping, really. “That’s the kouhai I missed so much. Nanami-kun, always so positive.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grunts, shrugging him off. A tug fixes the sit of his blazer of his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get going. I’m not about to put in overtime for you.”

Gojo rocks back on his heels as he walks away, taking in a deep breath. Despite the clear skies, a thunder rumbles through the city.

“It’s a lovely day for walk, isn’t it?” he hums, the words dogging Nanami’s heels. “How lucky for us.”

*

The cursed spirit might only have been lingering only a few streets away, but it’s a slippery one, leading them on what Gojo calls a ‘merry chase’ to the other side of town. By the time they corner it, writhing and helpless now that senpai's patience has run out, his stomach is empty enough that even that war crime of a sandwich seems appetizing.

A good thing that he’d put it in the garbage, then. Nanami would never be able to live with himself if he ate mayonnaise with brie. He had never been to France, but he would one day— if only for the food— and they certainly wouldn’t let him in after that.

Gojo-senpai doesn’t stick around to offer another; he’s got to go back to his class, to the children he’s teaching to sacrifice themselves before they even know who they might be. That’s what they’d wanted him to do when he’d first come back. Even had a promising crop of scouted talent, still wide-eyed from having the veil thrown back, the way he had been when he’d first enrolled, but—

But he’d just laughed. Told them to leave all that to Gojo, a man who tasted death and liked the flavor. They had his number; he’d come when they called.

So there’s no reason for him to be here. No reason for him to be idling next to this awning as rain pours down, pelting umbrella he’d bought from the konbini a street over. His old one; the shortest jaunt from his last apartment, closer still to the building where he used to work. One that still didn’t have casse-croute in the case.

But she would.

It’s busy now— the dinner rush, now that the salarymen have been turned out from their offices, ravenous and eager to avoid their empty apartments. Or worse yet, the filled ones— the kind with the children their parents wanted and the wife that begrudges their existence just as much as they begrudge hers.

A red beret blazes behind the counter, but even through the plate glass, it’s outshone by the smile beneath it. She’s been doing well, it seems— it had only even been her at the till before, but there’s two other employees working behind her now. They’re laughing as she tallies up an order, one of them wiping tears from his eyes.

It’s…nice. Good even. More camaraderie than he’d ever seen on the front lines of the stock market. More than he sees now, despite how close these missions fly to death. And that should be enough for him, to see proof of her success, but—

But that fly-head cocks its head, its unblinking stare settling on him through the glass. A larger one than the last. Makes sense; it’s had a whole year to siphon off its sustenance.

Nanami heaves a sigh, and with a nudge of his shoulders, opens the door.

The bell rings, the same bright chime he remembers, but the shop is so full, so lively, that no one bothers to look at the man stepping off to the side, letting another glut of customers through. He collapses his umbrella, careful to keep the extra water from dripping all over her floor. Even from here, he can hear that damn thing chittering on her shoulder, teeth clicking at every twitch of his fingers.

There’s nothing to be done about the thing from back here— he’s not Gojo-senpai, he can’t simply exorcise a spirit from annoyance alone— but he can’t bring himself to join the crowd. To hop in line and simply be yet another customer, not when she could look up and know—

But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He’d been a regular for only a few months more than a year ago. There’s no reason for her to remember his face, at least not enough to see past the new set of glasses on his face.

It’s better that way.

One of her employees passes behind her, leaning down to murmur in her ear, and her eyes jerk up, scanning the back of the shop. Not casual, no— that gaze is sharp, focused. Searching. It skims over him— once, twice— then catches, the tense lines collected at the corners of her eyes easing.

Oh.

She does remember him.

Her mouth opens, a hand lifting to a wave— only to flounder in empty air as the next customer shoulders his way to the counter, spitting out his order. She blinks, attention dragged back to the mundane, to the only reality she knows, and—

He should have never come. What difference did it make if he rid her of that curse? Oh, he can pretend it’s altruism, that all he cares about is gaining one small foothold in this war of attrition, but this isn’t about her. No, all this— it’s about him. About his pride. About proving to himself that these small victories meant something-- that even if he fell protecting this world from the horrors they’d never see, he’d leave a mark. That he'd have done something to make is better.

And now Nanami has his answer: he can push these boulders up this hill all he wants, but they’ll always fall back down. It’s only a matter of time.

He should leave.

The rain is still coming down outside, hard enough it bounces off the awning, splattering his already half-soaked blazer. A cluck catches between his teeth, trapped tight as he wrangles his umbrella open. An unremarkable black, one that will disappear into the sea of identical canopies; one more body in the surging tide, and—

And the bell rings. “Wait!”

He’s too close to feign ignorance, to pretend that he can’t hear her as easily as the heart pounding in his chest. That he can’t see her panting where she leans against the glass, rain dripping onto her chef whites. “This is for you!”

It’s the second time today that a paper bag has been foisted on him, but unlike the last, this one is crisp, a clean white with a neat fold at the top. And when he unfurls it, glancing into its pristine depths—

It’s his usual. The jambon-buerre. It’s a miracle his stomach doesn’t growl. “I didn’t…”

Order anything. He shouldn’t even be here.

“I know!” If he’d thought her smile was bright behind the counter, it is blinding this close. He squints into it, half-surprised it hasn’t burned the clouds away. “I keep one in stock, just in case you stop by. As a thank you!”

He blinks down at the bag. It’s been a year, he doesn’t say.

“Your neck,” he manages instead. “Does it still bother you?”

“Ah…!” Her eyes pulse wide. “Yes! How did you know?”

The fly-head chitters on her shoulder, and if it were possible for it to know what danger it was in, Nanami might have called that beady gaze a glare.

“Could you step closer?” His request isn’t breathless, but it is soft; softer than he’s ever spoken. She follows before he’s even finished, quick enough to leave his mouth strangely dry.

His movements are not practiced like he’d thought they’d be. Before he’d been relying on memory, on the feel of how cursed energy collected in his palms, but now he’s used to the way it sits there, to the way it tingles against his skin. He brings up his hand too fast, expecting the weight of the cleaver, but it doesn’t matter— the cut is same with an edge or without, his fingers honed just as sharp when it comes to little pissant curses like this one. It explodes over her shoulder, like a fly beneath a swatter.

When she breathes in, it’s with noticeably more ease, the tense line of her shoulders softened to a more natural curve. Funny how such a little thing could carry so much weight.

“Ohhh,” she sighs, eyes fluttering shut. Her hand raises, rubbing at where it sat, and he— he has to look away. “That’s so much better.”

“Thank you.” The words are foreign on his lips. “For the sandwich.”

For remembering. He turns, umbrella resting on his shoulder. It’s time.

“Wait!”

Fingers tangle in the sleeve of his blazer. Small, insignificant things, grip so weak a hard breath might break it. But it’s enough. This time, he turns back.

“How…?” Her face scrunches, head shaking. “No, wait. I asked last time, but I don’t think you heard me.”

She plucks her phone from an apron pocket, waving it with a smile. Not a shy one, but hopeful. “Can we exchange contacts?”

He stares. Not…forbidding. Simply…blindsided.

“No pressure,” she tells him brightly, despite the pink flush across her cheeks. “If you drop me a line the next time you’re around, I’ll make your sandwich fresh. No charge.”

That, if anything, tempts him. But still— he should go. It’s not good to make connections among the mundane. It only hurts them when they get caught up in his world.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He smiles to ease the sting. “Thank you, though.”

This time when he leaves, she doesn’t call after him.

*

Nanami waits to eat until he’s home, setting the bag on the counter, right beside his keys. There’s a part of him that’s reluctant to eat it, to take advantage of her kindness when the best he can do is walk away. But the famished part wins out, salivating at the very memory of its taste, of how the butter and brie meld into the most decadent expression of flavor, and—

And he might get a plate, at least. A luxury; he’d always eaten it on the run, trying to finish before he went back to the office, putting more hours in on the clock. Watching his life tick away through rows of a spreadsheet.

He sits down too— ah, what a dream this would have been back then, to sit and savor each bite. To not just cram as much into his mouth as he could before the elevator finish twenty-four flight climb, spitting him out into yet another soulless lobby. He unfurls the bag, extracting the sandwich with exquisite care. There’s a napkin wrapped around it; it flutters to the plate first, and he nearly leaves it there, but—

Sayo, it reads, followed by a string of numbers. Ten of them, to be exact, grouped two, four and four.

Ah. Heat flares where his collar rests at his neck. A phone number. That’s…persistent.

He stands up, skin tingling the same way it does in battle, but there's no curse energy to blame. Only the strange beat of his heart, and the even more foreign sensation of heat beneath his collar. He paces the kitchen, once, twice, trying to expend the tremble in his muscles, to still the half-formed thoughts racing in her head, and--

And with a delicate swipe of his hand, he guide the paper into the bin. Sayo, it still reads, and a number after it. Right there, on top of all his rubbish.

Nanami turns away, taking the plate with him. He’ll eat on the couch tonight.

[anamelessfool]

WIP WHENEVER

Thank you @kissingghouls for the tag!!!! I tried to pick something a little unique for this challenge...

VISITATION (From 'Domestics')

(family, humor, self-indulgent fluff, Dad Secondo)

2013: Papa Emeritus Terzo, Copia, and Nihil visit their estranged brother Secondo after the birth of his youngest child.

I have this whole ficlet series similar to Bestiary but based on small domestic moments in the lives of the brothers and the characters in my AU. Why? Because it's fun and ridiculously self-indulgent.

I love me a good flashback....

⛧⛧⛧

“Which way am I turning here?” Copia asked.

“Left,” muttered Terzo.

“Left...”

“Right.”

“Oh, Right then?”

“Yes, left is right!” Terzo paused then groaned. “Left is correct.”

“Marian couldn't come?” Terzo asked Copia idly. He smirked. “Hope your leash is long enough.”

Copia frowned. “At some point I wil fly out of this car, yes, jerked back by the leash, your Unholiness,” he replied flatly. “But ah… I'm into that.” Two hours in the car with Terzo gave one plenty of time to practice talking trash. “We should have arrived twenty minutes ago.”

Terzo shifted in the passenger seat. Car rides made him sick, and therefore extra irritable. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Nihil in the back. Nihil was staring ahead, expressionless, his eyes dull like a mesmerized cow. “We would have made time if we didn't stop back there.”

“Terzo, the old man barely asks for anything these days,” Copia said firmly. “So when he asked to stop and buy a balloon for his new grandson I um…had to indulge him.”

“Isn't this thing just brand new? A little ball that sleeps and cries? Why—why does it need a fucking balloon?”

“That thing… is your nephew,” Copia said, and he squeezed the steering wheel. “Have you ever taken care of anything small and helpless like that? You'd understand.”

Terzo muttered something in Italian and dropped his head against the door, staring out the window. Copia assumed if he wasn't so carsick he would really put on a pissy show for them all.

“We’re nearly there,” Copia said, slowing to an agonizing stop at the intersection, looking carefully right and left, waiting the appropriate three seconds at the stop sign, and then continuing on.

[They pull up to a plain suburban house.]

The door opened, Secundo towered over them all, his dark intense presence unmarred by his years away. The former Papa Emeritus II of the Satanic Church of the Void was now wearing a checkered button-down shirt and dark khakis. His grip on his cane tightened as his shark-like gaze flicked from guest to guest. Four Infernal Eyes regarded each other on the porch. Secundo's pitted face moved slightly. “Shoes. Off.” He shifted back, granting them entry.

They were led inside to a sunken foyer. Beyond a small railing was an ordinary living room with a beige carpet. There were halls nearby leading to kitchen, basement and bedrooms. All with as few stairs as possible made it easier for Secundo to easily walk around in his current state. His time as Channel of the Void left him permanently weak in his left side, but they all knew it could have been much worse.

Copia was struck by how unbelievably ordinary the place was. There was an unusual number of crammed bookshelves and a piano near the window, but other than that there was very little evidence of this being the home of a former leader of The Satanic Church of the Void. A single taxidermied goat head loomed over the television that displayed a muted cartoon program. Two small children sat near it in the center of a pile of wooden blocks.

Copia pulled his own shoes off, then knelt to help Nihil out of his. “It's nice to see you again, Secundo.”

Secundo never dropped his intensity and simply changed the words he spoke. “Yes, it is, Copia. Welcome.”

“Is that…is that little Paul?!” Copia nearly squealed as he pointed towards the little face peering from between the metal railings. The boy Paul had a shock of messy dark hair and a wild look that was all too familiar. “He's a small version of Terzo! Look!”

“That had been my unfortunate impression as well,” Secundo replied flatly.

Terzo gave them all a painfully polite smile, then joked. “Not to worry, I had nothing to do with it.”

Nihil’s head whipped from Paul to Terzo. “Yes, definitely our little scamp! An even smaller Terzo, heh!” Both grandson and son threw him identical scowls.

“Do you remember us?” Copia asked Paul. The boy cocked his head, thinking. He was born at the Ministry but the whole family left by the time he was five. “I remember we took out my old trike and you were pedaling up and down the hallways…”

“I distinctly remember you pedaling up and down the hallways on his tricycle,” Secundo said with an amused smirk.

“Just that once! To teach him!” Copia shot back.

[They settle into the collection of couches and proceed to observe the newborn.]

“Nihil, would you—” Sandra frowned. The old man had fallen asleep in the recliner within the past five minutes. She chuckled. “Well then, we will try later! How about you, Terzo?”

Terzo furrowed his brow. “No, certainly not. No thank you, sorella.”

Secundo looked quietly invested from his place on the opposite couch. “He'll reconsider later.”

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Tagging @katyaoaksdottir @fishwithtitz and @thew0man and you, yes YOU!