#adventure time ketchup

[anthurak]

Something I’ve always found rather curious about the Adventure Time fandom, specifically Bubbline shippers, is that nobody seems to talk about how the show slipped in what might be the most angsty, hardcore and emotionally raw Bubbline stories disguised as a wacky Rashomon-style recap in the episode Ketchup.

Like it’s pretty clear that Marceline is doing the whole ‘Lollipop Girl and Rockstar Girl’ puppet-show because she doesn’t want to traumatize BMO with what happened while they, Finn and Jake were gone, and also because she herself doesn’t want to revisit those memories directly.

But when we start reading between the lines and recognize that Marceline’s embellishments are really more to tone DOWN events, I think we get a very stark and raw depiction of what Marceline was doing when Patience set off Ooo’s elemental apocalypse.

Just to kick things off, how much does anyone want to bet that this joke translates to ‘Marceline and Bubblegum had a fight and Marcy was giving Bonnie some space… and because of that, Marceline wasn’t there to protect Bonnie when she was kidnapped by Patience.’?

Kinda adds another layer to Marcy’s whole ‘I was so afraid something bad would happen to you’ breakdown in Come Along With Me, doesn’t it?

Next we have ‘Rockstar Girl smacking off the potato-heads growing on her’ which pretty easily translates to; ‘while everyone else was getting overrun by the elements, Marceline was able to fight off the elemental contamination for possibly entire days while she tried to find a way to help Bubblegum’. And given what we see with Finn and Jake only able to resist the contamination for maybe a few hours at a time, and how willpower was one of the only things that could hold it off, that says a LOT about just how DESPERATE Marcy was to help Bonnie. I mean, you want a really hardcore and messed up image? Imagine if Marceline was actively cutting or RIPPING off the contaminated parts of herself to keep it from spreading and regrowing those parts with her vampiric regeneration?

Then we have ‘Rockstar Girl went after the Blue Tranch’, which I can only imagine translates to ‘Marceline going on a GOLB-DAMMNED WARPATH to hunt down Patience St. Pim’. And let’s remember that A. Patience was currently a super-charged Elemental and B. Marceline would still be fighting off elemental contamination herself, whether the Candification from Bubblegum, the Ice-ification from Patience, or even both.

I mean, when we think about it; ‘Rockstar Girl played some really loud music that the Blue Tranch didn’t like’ quite possibly translates to the most insane battle of the entire show. Like on one side we’ve got Patience St. Pim, seasoned Elemental who could already make Ice King look like an amateur, super-charged with elemental energy making her probably the most powerful Ice Elemental in thousands if not millions of years. And on the other side, we’ve got Marceline, consumed and possibly more than half-crazed with rage, fear and desperation to help Bonnie, going ALL-OUT with her numerous vampire powers, possibly some of her demonic powers, all while fighting off the encroaching elemental contamination.

And if ‘The Blue Tranch begged Rockstar Girl to stop and go away’ is anything to go by, I think we can assume that Marcy utterly WRECKED Patience’s SHIT. As in, Patience may well have ended this fight with an axe in her gut, a claw choking the life out her and Marceline threatening to devour her very SOUL if she didn’t tell her how to help Bonnie.

(Here’s another fun thought: Something that notably separates Patience from the other current elementals of Ooo is that whereas Princess Bubblegum, Flame Princess and Slime Princess are all physical manifestations OF their elements (Gum, Fire and Slime, respectively), while Patience is human. Yet when we see her during the arc, she seems to have lost her human body and assumed fully elemental form as well. Now we could of course assume that this is simply due to the elemental overcharge just like the others. Buuuuttt… what if Patience was FORCED to assume this new form because her human body could no longer SURVIVE after the utter THRASHING she received from Marceline?)

Finally, we of course have the end. Something which seems all too easy to imagine even with Marceline’s toning down of events:

Marcy rushing back to the Candy Kingdom as fast as she can. Even though she’s exhausted from her fight with Patience and the days spent fighting off the elemental contamination. To the point where now she can only barely hold it off and maintain her sanity. Perhaps she wonders if this is what it was like for Simon during their time together…

Even though she knows speeding back this fast is only draining her strength faster, but that doesn’t matter to her. Because what matters right now is the trinket, potion, or something or other clutched in her hand that Patience gave her. Something that Marcy can’t be sure will even work. But she hopes it will. That’s the only thing keeping her going, the only thing holding her together at this point.

A blind, desperate HOPE that this will save Bonnie…

When she finally returns to what was once the Candy Kingdom, Marceline finds the massive tower of gum. Perhaps like Finn and Jake later on, Marceline at first isn’t sure what she’s looking at and thinks Bonnie is at the top. So she flies right to the top in a burst of speed that drains her already dwindling strength even further.

And there Marcy finds Bonnie. Or rather, what Bonnie has BECOME. Perhaps she doesn’t even remember Marcy.

Perhaps for Marcy, this is like losing Simon all over again. Except instead of the father who raised and cared for her over ten years, it’s a woman that Marcy has loved for the better part of a millennium. A woman she was only just able to start loving again after so long. But now, just like Simon… she’s gone.

And this realization does what all the elemental power of Ooo could not.

It breaks Marceline.

Just like that, Marceline doesn’t even try to use the ‘antidote’ Patience gave her. Instead, perhaps Marcy gives Bonnie one last kiss and just… accepts the madness.

Because now, at least they can be together.

[mars-doodles]

princess bubblegum the throat goat

[haemosexuality]

part 4 of drawing every cool marceline outfit (parts 1, 2, 3)

[adventuretimetournament]

A Glitch Is a Glitch: The land of Ooo begins to literally fall apart when Ice King infects it with a virus.

Ketchup: While downloading files, BMO and Marceline tell each other stories.

[pigeoninabowl]

Based on i don't remember

[jtrofe]

Hotdog cake

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: July 18…

BMO decides to pay a visit to Marceline, still thinking that the whole thing with the vampires is still going on, when BMO tells her about their recent trip across the ocean and swap stories to pass the time. “Ketchup” premiered on this day, 7 Years Ago.

[turnedpalefromlackofsun]

the hell did i just see "linux haters DNI" in a bio

[astxrwar]

hunson abadeer is a perfectly balanced malewife/girlboss hybrid and that’s what makes him so Strange. i want to place him in a little jar and study him like a Specimen

[vennysoup]

pb's lollipop girl design in ketchup is so cute i care abt her a lot ;_;

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x reader ; a very light hint of steve x reader

a follow up to this which is a follow up of this

tw 18+ content, tied up, temperature play, steve is baby girl himbo in this very s3 coded, eddie is jealous + mean.

“that tickles, wow, cold— ow, very very cold— shit, shit!”

You slap a hand over his mouth, wide eyes staring into yours as if he is scared beyond belief.

“Shhhhh..” you press a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

Your body was pressed in his, an ice cube held limply in your fingers as you traced it along his veiny shaft. Leaving goosebumps on his summer tanned skin. 

“Eddie is home, do you want him to know that we’re fooling around? Cause I prefer to keep my bedroom adventures private.”

“No, no! You’re right, it’s just— really cold, when you said you wanted to get freaky I thought maybe you had a friend or something to go up my ass? I don’t know!” 

You stare at him, waiting for him to say he was kidding but it never came. You sit up, the ice melting on your fingers dripping onto his sack, little whimpers from his mouth. 

“Alright… King Steve is curious about assplay, noted. We can unpack that another time— for now, it’s either the ice or nothing, you choose.” 

You kiss his chest, waiting for him to decide. He’s mumbling to himself, and you work your fingers in between the tufts of hair, eyes on him, your nipples skimming over his hot skin. 

“…okay! Okay fine! Can I kiss you maybe?” 

Steve was stretched like a voodoo doll across your bed, large hands tied to each bed post, unable to reach you, his lip in a pout as he attempted to wiggle his wrists free. 

“Keep trying to get out of your restraints and you won’t be kissing me anywhere.”

He huffed, a strand of caramel hair tousling into his forehead, “I mean they’re tight— like really tight, you sure this is normal?”

You rolled your eyes and sat up again to examine the human ken doll that was played by Steve Harrington for the evening. 

His wrists were red, fingers pale… fuck. 

You tug at the knots, trying to wedge your fingers beneath them, and after five minutes of you trying you could see Steve’s hands looking worse.

“Alright— don’t panic!” you announced, sliding from the bed and pushing your arms through the red silk robe hanging from your closet, “and don’t move…. I’ll be…” scissors! “yeah, I’ll be right back!”

“What!? You can’t just leave me like th—!” he hollers your name and you try to muffle his calls of distress by shutting your door quickly.

Eddie was in his room, you could hear him playing his guitar— and he prayed he didn’t hear the muffled pleas from Steve. 

Rifling through the kitchen junk drawer you find everything but the scissors. Chopsticks from too many late night orders of chinese takeout, ketchup packets, pens, a pack of markers, Eddie’s fake ID he had in high school, Wayne’s expired ID he tried to use at the gas station when you were sixteen and more rope. 

The pair of you didn’t own a knife set, never having cooked anything that required culinary skills— you were at a loss— the only option left was to ask Eddie for his pocket knife. Goddamnit.

The walk to his room felt like miles long, and honestly you would have preferred if you never got there. His door was open, the low times of his acoustic guitar filled the air along with a haze of smoke. 

A quick rap on his door and Eddie was looking up at you, cigarette limp from his lips, as he motions to the other side of his room with a nod of his head. 

“…ham & pineapple no pepperonis, cash on the dresser.” 

“What? Oh yeah, sure— forgot it’s Friday. Hey, ummm. I need a favor.” 

Eddie smirks and shakes his head, “I’m not loaning you anymore bud, you already owe you twenty.” 

“No— I’m not here for free weed, I need your knife.” 

His eyebrows quirk and he waits for you to ask his silent “why?”

“It’s an emergency.” 

“Your boss sucks sweetheart, 100%— but you can’t kill him.” 

“Eddie shut up,” you whine, stomping your foot, “I just need to borrow it—I'll give it right back!”

He rolls his eyes, leaning over to grab his knife from his back pocket, “tell me what you need it for.” 

You stare at him, mouth open, “I…can’t.” 

“Okay? and why not?”

Your name is heard in a wail from your room and your cheeks heat with embarrassment. 

“is someone in there?”

Scrubbing your hands down your face you finally admit it, “Yes! Jesus fuck! Now will you please either help me or give me the knife, he’s stuck!”

It takes everything in Eddie to try not to laugh, but he simple hides his lips and nods, thinking to himself what kid. of shit you’d gotten into now, and with who?

He follows you into your room, watching your form move beneath the silk robe, trying to keep his eyes from staring too long or imagining what lie beneath the thin fabric. 

Your eyes are covered when you open the door so you miss the shock on Steve’s face to see his best friend walk into your room. His dick is still out, laying against his hairy thigh, and the only thing he can do is an awkward jock head nod followed by a “sup?”

Thankful that he has a good poker face, Eddie nods back, ears crimson in anger, biting his tongue as he flips the blade out with flare. Behind his dark eyes He was fuming. 

Steve? 

STEVE HARRINGTON?

Of all people you could have tied up in here in some makeshift attempt at whatever you thought you were doing— it had to be him.

Heads would fucking roll when this was over and him and Steve were alone. 

Slicing through the ropes like they were nothing, Eddie simply raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, leaving with his mind grinding like gears on how to stop this from happening again. 

—

“Thanks for calling Family Video. Our hours are 10-10 Sunday through Saturday, stop in to rent our latest releases, this is St—”

“Harrington.”

“Hey man, hey— thanks for uh, helping me out the other night. I really o—”

“Yeah, you do,” the cord bounces on the floor as Eddie turns the corner, looking back at you in the living room asleep on the couch— walking to his room,  “that’s why whenever she calls… you are going to make up whatever excuse that big hair of yours can..”

“Wait..?”

Eddie grits your name out through clenched teeth. 

“If she calls to hang out, you will find a reason not to, y’ catch my drift, pal?” 

“Ye-yeah, sure thing… what should I say?”

“I don’t care Harrington, make something up… tell her you have a girlfriend, you have the measles, I really don’t give a fuck what it is, as long as I never have to walk into her room and see your dick again.”

Steve narrows his eyes, blurring the neon lights in the video store, “dude, what the hell?” 

“Sarah is single— I’ll give you her numb—”

“Okay? But so is she, why are you acting like an asshole right now?”

You. He was being a dick because of you. Sick and tired of you not willing to admit you both had feelings for eachother, and he was ready to pull out the big guns in order to make it happen. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r

[nina-ya]

There is something so intimate about waking up at the crack of dawn where you find yourself in the presence of your favorite cook, Sanji.

Each morning has the same familiar rhythm. Wrapped in the comfort of your blanket, you shuffle into the kitchen, your sleepy eyes barely open. Your face scrunches up with a yawn as you settle into your usual spot at the table, propping your head up with your hand as the familiar clinking of pots and pans fills the air while you watch the blonde cook breakfast for the crew. He knows you too well. A mug of your favorite beverage is already waiting for you, and with a charming smile, he slides it over to you. A simple “good morning” passes between you before he returns to his cooking.

You always find yourself wondering: How can he be so awake at this hour? Maybe it’s his love for cooking that fuels his mornings. You watch as he adjusts the heat on various pans, covers some with kids, and pulls out ingredients for another dish- a dish for just the two of you.

What will it be today? Yesterday it was heart shaped pancakes; the day before, an omelet with a love declaration written in ketchup; another day, it was toast adorned with jams and fruits arranged to resemble the two of you. Sanji never fails to tug on your heartstrings, even so early in the morning.

And every morning, Sanji takes his place across from you, savoring the meal he’s prepared for you two. This small moment of calmness is shared in a comfortable silence, the only sounds filling the air being the soft clinking of utensils against plates, the sounds of you two eating, or occasional hums of delight. Sometimes, soft-spoken small talk or compliments about the food are exchanged, but most of the time, words are unnecessary. Just the presence of each other is enough to make each morning feel perfect. This daily routine becomes a comforting normalcy among the chaos that comes with being on the ship. 

As the minutes pass, the rest of the Strawhats begin to filter in, one by one, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere but marking the start of another day filled with adventures. Yet, for that brief moment shared between you and Sanji, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you, enjoying each other's company in the quietness of the morning.

[adventuretimetournament]

Food Chain: Magic Man forces Finn and Jake to learn about the food chain.

Ketchup: While downloading files, BMO and Marceline tell each other stories.

[adventure-time-news]

Smallbu win Character Animation Emmy Award for work on Fionna and Cake

While Fionna and Cake as a whole wasn't nominated for the Emmys this year, there are still several Emmy awards handed out to individuals, and the juried awards were announced yesterday!

Alex and Lindsay Small-Butera, known together as Smallbu, have received an Emmy for Character Animation for their work on The Winter King, in which they animated the Winter Wonder World musical sequence.

Congrats!

Smallbu have won an Emmy for their work on Adventure Time before, for their animated sequences in the episode Ketchup. That one was awarded to Lindsay, while this one was awarded to Alex.

[pleasured-ambrosia]

hi!! could you do a drabble of miguel protecting fem!reader from an ex or something like that? also i love your work !!

((Might get put on Ao3. Have not decided. College is hard. This was also written to be like pre-ASTV, back when Miguel wasn’t so sad and grumpy.))

The sound of your back popping breaks the long silence in Miguel’s office, your arms stretching to the ceiling as you let out a yawn. You had begun the long process of cataloging the many anomalies faced by fellow Spider-People that morning. However, even as the little clock at the bottom of your laptop screen flashes the late hour of the night, your stack of encounters is still tall enough to wobble at the slightest bump against your desk. The reports—if one could even call them that—are a mix of typed and written sheets of paper, as well as the stray napkin blobbed with ketchup or more mysterious substances.

Although it had been your idea to keep a database of anomaly encounters, you couldn’t have predicted that Spider-People had such . . . diverse forms of keeping track of their adventures.

A mug appears in your peripheral, breaking you from your thoughts. Your eyes follow the large hand wrapped around its handle, landing on the vague shape of Miguel O’Hara’s face, lit only by the orange hues of his computers. At one point, he had offered to teach you how to use them, but the process only put off your project’s completion further.

“I’m just taking a break,” you half-defend, half-yawn.

“Nah,” replies Miguel, nudging the mug closer to you. “You’re done for the night. Get some sleep.”

You sipped from the mug, letting the taste of herbal tea drown out your complaints. Your eyes take in Miguel’s form, noting that his usual blue and red suit was replaced with a gray jogging suit better-suited for your dimension than his. “No patrolling tonight?”

“I will after I take you home.”

You raise a brow with a small grin. “I can work a portal just fine, you know.”

“It’s not that.” Miguel’s stance shifts as he shoves his large hands into his pockets. “I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

Your grin widens. “So I can’t take care of myself, is that it?”

Miguel lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. “No, I didn’t mean it like that . . . Por Dios, I just mean—“

“Miguel, relax. I’m messing with you. Walk me home if you want, but I have to stop by the store on the way home. Sound good?”

“As long as it’s quick.” Yet Miguel didn’t seem to mean it, watching as you pack up your laptop and roll up its charging cable. The two of you look almost normal standing in Miguel’s office, with him dressed in sweats and you opting out of your Spider-ensemble for an oversized sweater and a pair of jeans. You sling your laptop bag over your shoulder, imagining what it would be like for Miguel to walk you to a train or a bus rather than busting out a portal. You could probably make a decent living off data entry, but what would Miguel do? Maybe he would be a scientist, and despite working in two different departments, maybe he would become your friend.

“What’re you thinking about?” Miguel asks. He taps a button on his watch (which he would insist is, in fact, way cooler than a watch.) A portal of geometric shapes in red, orange, and yellow opens in the middle of Miguel’s lab, swirling with anticipation.

The vision of Miguel in a white coat and a button-up makes you snort. “Nothing.”

Before Miguel can press further, you grab his forearm and drag him through the portal.

Miguel has more practice at inter-dimensional than you, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that he remained calm as the portal thrusted the two of you through time and space. You, however, are less professional, waving your arms and resisting the urge to scream as your stomach turns into knots.

Landing on his feet, Miguel catches you before you can face plant onto the pavement of Earth-575, otherwise known as home. Your face burns with embarrassment as it hits the center of his chest and your arms wrap around Miguel’s middle. He’s warm, you think. And soft!

It was obvious to everyone in the Spider-Society that Miguel was in great shape. After all, most of the Spider training regiments had come from some of his own workouts. The man could probably rearrange your apartment without breaking a sweat, which was why it came as such a shock that despite Miguel’s muscles, you feel ready to snuggle into him like a pillow.

“You should really work on sticking that landing.”

You push Miguel away to glare up at his smug face. “You’ll get humbled real fast when I knock your ass to the ground.”

At that, Miguel roars with laughter. “I’d like to see you try.”

You huff, spinning around to take a look at the nearest street sign. The nearest convenience store is only two blocks away, making your apartment only an extra two. “Let’s move it, O’Hara. If you’re nice, I’ll buy you a snack.”

Although Miguel could very well buy his own snacks, he follows you anyways, taking extra care to shorten his strides so that he can walk by your side. Most of the residents of your city are tucked in bed by now, although a handful of lights accompany the sporadic streetlights. Besides the occasional rat or partygoer, you and Miguel are the only ones still out.

“Did you think the college kids were going to kidnap me in the middle of the night?” you tease.

“Absolutely,” Miguel deadpans. “They’d lock you in the basement of their frat house, and you’d starve because they haven’t gone grocery shopping since the semester started.”

“Is that what you did in college? Lure people into your frat house of doom?”

“Absolutely not.” Miguel beams with pride, his chest puffing out. “I was on the quiz bowl team.”

Your cackles bounce off the tall buildings lining the streets. Tears spring from the corners of your eyes as you clutch your stomach to keep it from aching. You can picture it now: a scrawny, awkward Miguel with thick glasses frantically consulting his team for the championship-winning answer.

“And when did you become all of this?” you ask, gesturing at Miguel.

He ponders this for a moment. “I didn’t become Spider-Man until I joined Alchemax, but I guess I branched out a little more towards the end of undergrad. Got more into working out, making connections.”

You turn around a corner, finding the entrance to a small convenience store. A small bell rings as you pull open the door, Miguel propping his arm over your head so that you can enter first.

“I’ll just be a second,” you assure him.

“One,” Miguel starts.

“Real mature, O’Hara.”

“Two.”

“Seriously, I’m going to web your mouth shut.”

“Three.”

“I swear to God—“

“Four—“

You make a beeline for the coolers towards the back, tuning out Miguel’s chuckling. By the time you pick out a half-gallon of milk, he’s perusing the long aisles of chips. You never really stopped to ask what kind of brands and flavors Miguel has in his dimension. They banned cigarettes and absurdly large sodas at gas stations, but that was all you heard. You make a mental note to ask, maybe even to buy Miguel something new to try.

You load up on a mishmash of items that hardly pass for a late-night dinner, filling your arms with small plastic bowls of cereal, styrofoam cups of ramen, and an overpriced bag of beef jerky. It’s not until you start weighing the pros and cons of ice cream over chocolate that you notice him.

His hair is longer than when you saw him last, curling around his ears in dark tufts. His guitar case is slung over his shoulder, and judging by the heavy eyeshadow and leather pants, he must’ve had a gig earlier.

You decide to skip grabbing something sweet, spinning around to make a beeline for the cashier when he calls out your name.

Shit.

You turn around slowly, heart hammering in your throat. It takes everything in you to force a smile. “Kasey, hey.”

“Long time no see. Haven’t seen you at The Clover lately.”

“Oh, you know,” you’re thankful that the bundle of snacks in your arms gives you something to hold, “just been busy. Haven’t had time to go out.”

You used to rehearse this moment in the bathroom. You had a whole script where you laid everything out on the table—gave Kasey the verbal beat down he deserved. Yet as you stand across from him, the words won’t come out. Is it my Spidey-sense? you wonder, but this feels different. Your Spidey-sense always led you to action. Whatever this was . . . it was paralyzing.

“I tried texting you,” Kasey continues.

I changed my number, you want to say.

“I haven’t been checking my messages lately.” Your voice cracks at the end, and you can tell Kasey noticed. Kasey always noticed.

“We should grab a drink, then. I actually just finished up tonight if you want to—“

“Are you ready to go?”

A large arm wraps around the small of your back and pulls you close, prompting a small oomf. You tilt your head back to look at Miguel. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m ready.”

Kasey says your name again and smiles, sending a shiver down your spine. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Miguel smiles down at Kasey, who barely reaches his chest. The expression looks more like a test than one out of sincerity. “I’m Miguel, and you are interrupting our date.”

Before you can reply, Miguel steers you to the cashier. He sets a bag of chips you didn’t even realize he was holding onto the counter and waits for you to do the same. You reach for your wallet, but Miguel’s faster, handing the cashier a twenty and not bothering to wait for the change as he takes the plastic grocery bags. As he escorts you out of the convenience store, you catch one last glimpse of Kasey’s slack-jawed face.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you moan halfway down the block.

“I have paid for your snacks plenty of times.”

“No, not that. You shut him up just like that!” You snap your fingers for emphasis. “And you said we were on a date. And you put your arm around me!”

“It was the first thing that came to mind!” argues Miguel. “I didn’t need your Spider-sense—“

“Spidey-sense.”

“Lo que sea—to tell that you needed a little help.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Some great hero I am,” you grumble. “Can’t even handle an ex-boyfriend on my own.”

“We all have people that get under our skin. And sometimes no matter how hard we try to get them out, we can’t.”

Miguel’s gaze focuses on the street ahead, his face contemplative.

“You know, a convenience store would be a pretty lame first date.”

Miguel shrugs. “Well, if you’re going to be so ungrateful, I guess I’ll just eat all of this junk food myself.”

You did not tease Miguel for the rest of the night.

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: July 18…

BMO decides to pay a visit to Marceline, still thinking that the whole thing with the vampires is still going on, when BMO tells her about their recent trip across the ocean and swap stories to pass the time. “Ketchup” premiered on this day, 6 Years Ago.