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#anyways this and a joint amiright
needycatboy · 1 month
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ughh boys who give you an edible with a dose just above what you're used to, so that when they lean you back against them to cuddle and start lightly caressing you and feeling you up the sensitivity is so much higher, boys who kiss your neck to make you squirm and laugh at how pathetic you're being when you whine and ask for more 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
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hiddenbysuccubi · 5 months
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It's all fun and games joking about bodies going OW for no reason for people older than us until we get to that age and This post is about my neck. I slept on my neck wrong. My neck will never recover.
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hinataoc · 10 months
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KHOC Week Day 2 - New World
HEY! It’s the second day of @khoc-week​ Wooooo
So I have a lot to share for this. But I’m going to focus on the age old favorite of Halloween Town, because that’s where I just finished writing them at in FT. 
First, I want to start with Hinata. She arrived first in Halloween Town, along with Axel and Riku. They were in pursuit of a Replica and formed a shaky alliance to track her down. When they arrived all three of them got completely different looks. Hinata was mostly unhappy with hers, while Riku and Axel ended up looking pretty cool. 
I have this incredible piece by @amyhayanora that depicts them in their outfits from a scene in The Forgotten Traveler Chapter 17
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Next is Sam. The poor thing does not have good luck with the ship’s magic drive. For some reason, she doesn’t get to be fully human. There is a reason, it’s just spoilers and such. Anyway, I am a huge fan of Legend of Zelda and when I think of the creatures in Nightmare Before Christmas I always think of the fish guy. So Sam got a fishy experience. 
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Excerpt from The Forgotten Traveler Chapter 19—
(note: remember that crazy robot B.E.N from Treasure Planet? yeah he travels with them)
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Halloween Town was just as gloomy as the name would suggest. Gravestones and gargoyles stood intertwined with black thorny vines and rotting pumpkins. In the center of the field was a hill that curled into itself at the end, the entire thing silhouetted by the full moon.
"I didn't think this place would take its name so literally." Sam sidestepped a smashed pumpkin, gagging at the sight of rats and maggots devouring its remains. "I don't even want to know how it made me look."
"Yeeeah, that's probably for the best," Ben assured her, a few steps ahead as he scanned the area for any signs of Riku and Hinata. He had made it off nearly scot-free from the magic drive, spare for a darker shade of rust, a brighter, eerie glow to his eyes, and crusted blood splattered over his joints. "If you ask me—"
"I didn't," Sam reminded him, but he continued regardless.
"—I'd say you'd be better off under water." He tapped his chin. "Maaaaybe near Neverland! I hear there's plenty of sea monsters there. If DiZ's world encyclopedias are anything to go by, which"—he laughed—"why wouldn't they be, amiright?"
Sam inwardly groaned, stopping mid step and allowing Ben to continue on as he walked further and further away. "Of course I get stuck with him tagging along," she grumbled under her breath, reaching up her hand to rub her hair. Then she paused, realizing there was no hair to touch. Instead, her fingers were met with a slick, slimy skin that reminded her of touching a fish left too long on the counter— something she had done one too many times. "Oh come on!" She held out her hand in front of her, seeing the bluish tint to her now long webbed fingers. Suddenly, Ben's comments on her belonging with other sea monsters didn't seem so far-fetched.
"Don't say I didn't warn you!" Ben called back to her, his hands cupped around his mouth.
Sam clenched her hands at her sides, shutting her eyes tight and taking in a long deep breath. "Please tell me Velcia's coming down soon."
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Yeeeeah... she got to be based on a zombified zora. Sorry Sam. 
Velcia though, my husband had the coolest design idea for her and I was so excited to get the chance to draw it. 
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An amazing ghost witch! She’s a potion maker by trade in Thebes, so it just fits so perfectly! All the ingredients hanging from the dress’ threads, the potions eerily glowing and dangling from the branches, ahhh so cool! I really need to up my design game. My husband has me beat. 
Here is some more art I have of Hinata in her Halloween Town look. It was originally designed by someone on DeviantArt by the name of VelvetCookieVT. I hosted an art contest for participants to design a new world outfit for Hinata, and whoever won would get their outfit and world choice put into the story. I held the contest years ago and it just finally got put in. Anyway, here is the original artwork of Hinata’s Halloween Town look.
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I was absolutely in love with it. Hinata was not lol! But she managed. 
Also, bonus of Hinata’s Christmas Town look that was co designed by me and @amyhayanora.
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OBSESSED
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bonesbuckleup · 1 year
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Hi! I'd say when writing a story with trans characters, often people fall into the definition problem, a la "Oh, you're trans? Can I please have a 500 word essay on what that means to you?" or the magician problem, basically "Oh, you're trans? Wow! I never would have guessed, it's like you poofed into totally a passing body!" Both have roots in well-intentioned soil, but being trans is just like knowing how to play clarinet or being double jointed. It's one fact of many that builds a person.
I am with you 100%! Again, cis lady here, but I am bi, and so I can relate on the level of characters who "just aren't into labels" being a thing. Which is a fine take, but just...one that gets old fast when you want authentic rep, you know? Queerness for me is one slice of the character pie, so we are dead on the same page, Anon!
I mostly figured I'd ask because A. I'm super duper early on in the writing process and so it's extremely easy to pivot right now based on responses, B. To latch onto your clarinet comparison, I do enjoy listening to the clarinet and know a couple clarinetists, but despite these things, I wouldn't be able to describe, like, breathing patterns or specific finger aches etc etc the way they would, so...C. what's the point of spending time on Tumblr.com if not to crowdsource for authentic representation purposes amiright
ANYWAY. Thank you for taking the time to respond! 💛
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paramorearchived · 2 months
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March 3, 2013
Transcript:
One show left..
Only one more show of our first ever tour of 2013. My neck hasn't felt this sore since we started touring in the beginnning of 2005... I keep telling everyone, "My body is resisting my will to rock!" Seriously though, the shows have been so fun that, at least for those 70 - 90 minutes up on stage, I don't even notice. I love being back at it again. Surely, my creaking 24 year old joints and muscles will all submit to me soon. Submit to the rock. Let's just not take another 2 years off, amiright?
Like I said in the last post, we have been doing some listening parties... playing 5 songs from the new album for around 20 fans. It's been nerve-wracking and thrilling and extremely rewarding. I'll never get over how amazing it feels to bare your soul in a song and then have someone listen and not only accept but fully embrace it. To be any kind of artist is a blessing.
The first song on the album is called "Fast In My Car". We played this one in the listening parties even I was nervous to show people the way that the album actually begins. It begins this way for a reason though. The last few years of our band-hood were a pretty crazy ride. There were some seriously dark valleys. Lows that felt impossible to escape... but we did! We got outta there! The problem, however, with having lived out those lows in front of the world is that there are a lot of people who would rather see us stay down there. You know folks like that, I'm sure. They don't want you to get back up and try again, especially if you're going to try something new. Quite honestly, in our case, journalists and writers seem to want a juicy story much more than to actually have to do homework and say something positive. And you can't always fault people for their curiosity. Our society perpetuates this... we are drawn to dilemma. I am just as much as anyone so I swear I'm not trying to point fingers! Anyway, Paramore have had our fair share of drama and we're ready for something different. We want the soap-opera to stay behind us! Thus, "Fast In My Car".
A lot of the reviewers who've heard this song go straight for the obvious when they hear some of the lines in the song. They ask me if it's about losing 2 band members and being pissed off about it and blah blah blah... and I just want to say, loudly and proudly, that this song is not about that. There aren't actually any full songs on the album about that. Certainly, I am always inspired by life and the things that my friends and I go through... So, there may be shades of those memories... but alls I'm sayin' is... Don't look too hard for something negative cause you'll always find it. (I should listen harder to this advice!)
This year, I hope that as a band we really live out "Fast In My Car". I want to just jump in a car, van, bus, plane, train, whatever... with my best friends... and take over the world. Armed to the teeth, ready for anything that comes our way but always with a new peace of mind that we've already won. There's so much out there for us to experience and to gain and I'm ready to not miss out on any of it this time.
Alright, even though my favorite parts of this song are the verses... I'm going to stick with my gut and just give you guys the chorus. Simple and straight to the point. Can't wait for you to hear the real thing!
"We're driving fast in my car We've got our Riot gear on but we just want to have fun No, we're not looking for violence... Tonight we want to have fun"
hayley
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ferinawrites · 9 months
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Places To Eat In London : Part 1
I have only been to London two times but I feel like I am qualified enough to blog my two cents about the 10 in 22,316 pubs and restaurants in London. Haha! So these are some of the places I have been to and thought were worth visiting if you're a hungry mthrfkr like me. It is a huge help to go into Pinterest for reference, but sometimes it is not always the case. The best way perhaps is to just let your hunger lead you anywhere convenient. I mean anywhere you turn your head, there's always a restaurant, a cafe, a pub, or a kiosk in sight when you are in London. This is a fact about the city that goes understated. You can never go hungry in London. It's just a matter of what you fancy. And whatever your impression of the food experience is, it mostly depends on the company you're with. You can be in a Michelin-star restaurant in London but your date is the dullest man in town, so everything else just becomes bleh... you know what I'm saying!? My list of places to eat is based on where I actually had the chance to eat during my two trips in London.
Anyways... moving on.
MAMASONS DIRTY ICE CREAM
Chinatown, London
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A legit filipino dessert joint where they serve ice cream scoops in warm buns or should I call it, pan de sal. You got that right. These ice cream sandwiches in the menu are called Bilog and you'd be nuts not to stop by for one or two bilogs. If you are a kid who grew up in the Philippines, you'd be so thrilled to find out that they have a Milo flavoured ice cream. I was so psyched! The ice creams are handmade the traditional way in steel drums covered in crushed ice and rock salt, hence the term "dirty ice cream". They also have other familiar flavors like ube, halo-halo, and one that was called milk bun which I assume would be similar to condensed milk which we traditionally use as a pan de sal filling for meryendas back home. The place is cute but there's always a long line. The good thing is, you can place your order on digital screens. It is so asian-tech, amiright?
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They have four branches in London as of now but the one we went to was in 32 Newport Ct, West End, London, WC2H 7PQ.
BOROUGH MARKET
Southwark Street, London
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The Borough Market must be a part of the itinerary because a trip to London would be senseless without a gastronomic experience at the traders' market. I am drawn in particular to this seafood stall with handsome, bearded, tattoo-clad men who are the image of "sailors" and were standing behind towers of oysters and a gigantic pan where they make hundreds of kilos worth of paella.
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The oysters were so damn fresh, they still taste so sweet with a hint of sea water! Topped it with chopped red onions of course and vinegar, I had to savour the moment and chewed each oyster. I can never understand why some people would just slurp it down when it is so vital to chew and taste the oyster's insides and even catch some tiny bit of rocks or pebbles as you chew. It is just a part of it, I guess! The sea urchins just tasted of the sea. Nothing more. Haha. The paella was a bit too salty that time we were there but I am pretty sure the long line of people says a lot.
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The Borough Market is in itself a place of 100 traders with their own respective stalls so it is not just a place to eat oysters. They have everything you could ever imagine from real truffles, mushroom paté, the spiciest bottled chilis, teas, wines... the list goes on.
The address: Borough Market , 8 Southwark Street, London SE1 1TL
BREWDOG, SEVEN DIALS
Shaftesbury Ave, London
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This one was something a friend just mentioned in passing. She told me that if we ever were at the Tower Bridge, we should try BrewDog. But it was unfortunately closed by the time we were done taking pictures at the Tower Bridge. The day after, I planned on shopping at TK Maxx but BrewDog at Seven Dials got me distracted instead. I was alone and I was so hungry so I went in and ordered myself a burger for brunch.
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The burger size wasn't at all what I expected. It was smaller than the average but boy did I underestimate it! I ordered the Cluck Norris just because I love the internet's Chuck Norris memes. Plus deep-fried buttermilk chicken with avocado, cajun mayo, red onion, and coriander sounded like the best combo the world has ever invented. Had to get a korean barbecue sauce and a side called Spicy Cleaver Smashed Cucumbers. I was expecting nothing less from BrewDog since my walking TripAdvisor friend Monica recommended it. I had a food coma on the bus on my way to the parliament. I swear I was sleeping on the bus like nothing else mattered.
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The address: BrewDog Seven Dials, 142 Shaftesbury Ave, London WC2H 8HJ
BUNBUNBUN : VIETNAMESE FOOD
Kingsland Road, London
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Oh what a fucking wonderful way to feed our famished selves after a long flight to London. This was one of the Airbnb owner's recos. Bun Bun Bun is a Vietnamese restaurant located just around the corner in this hipster neighborhood of Hoxton. It is one of the restaurants the owner usually frequents and I can see damn why. We ordered the catfish in a claypot and it was just absolutely amazing. Every bite hits home. I never knew catfish could be romanticized so well. It was fried and caramelized to perfection. I assumed that they made the sauce by sautéing the garlic and vegetables in the catfish’s own oil. I wondered if it was black bean sauce because it definitely tasted like it? But it did have that sweetness from brown sugar, spiciness from the fresh red chilis, and a tangy hint of rice vinegar. The meal came with some sort of clear broth, rice (that I replaced with salad), and pickled carrots. I mean, it couldn't get any better than this especially for a set of pseudo jet-lagged travellers like us. Definitely a 5-star for me!
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SPEEDBOAT BAR
Soho, London
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I don't know why but TikTok led me to Speedboat Bar. I guess the algorithms told me to come here before our night of gay-bar hopping. First impression was, wow. They really nailed the job in making the bar/restaurant look like you were zapped at a bar somewhere in Phuket, Thailand. It's not as if I have been in Thailand but the 80's New Wave playing in the background, mismatched colors on the walls, neon lights, and a framed picture of the majesty king and queen of Thailand were displayed on the walls. Every single food in the menu sounded so enticing. Some of their best selling dishes are so straightforward:
Chicken Skin
Sweetcorn fritter
Minced Beef with Basil
Clams with Chilli Jam
Fried Rice
Beef Tongue & Tendon Curry 
The most instagrammable of them all is the Tom Yum MAMA. But I settled for the Drunkard's Seafood and Beef Noodles which best described me at that time-- drunk! No regrets though! One thing though, be prepared for the spicy hot levels of their dishes. They won't water ir down for vanilla people. In other words, be prepared to burn your tongue and a purge the day after.
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They have a very quirky website too. Click here if you are curious. And maybe you can book a table or two in advance especially in the evenings because Speedboat is almost always jam-packed and I have experienced first-hand how hard it was to get a table unless sitting outside is your thing. But that should be the last option because there were two annoying drunk men at the neighbouring pub who questioned why people would pay 20 quid for a bowl of noodles. So judgy! :(
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Instagram: @speedboatbar
#-
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ask-sincerely-memes · 3 years
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Hey guys(specifically old fans) i just wanted to let you know that mod jared isnt real,never was and was in fact a manifestation of delusion and originally a coverup for the fact that i was modding both evan and jared.
It was a joint idea between me and mod con who as kids were an inseparable pair of demons capable of mass catastrophe(affectionate)
Talk about being an evan kinnie amiright🤪🤪🤪
It actually ended up going so far that i myself was able to believe the delusion and i think thats fucking hilarious
It got to the point that they seemed so real that...people had a crush on them,and sent them things,and convinced them to make their own blog man u guys are amazing
I was so insecure and mentally unstable in my early highschool years that i thought it would be funny to convince people that i was in a relationship or something????? So thats why mod kleinsen was a thing????
I dont remeber lol i have dissociative amnesia
-mod ev
anyway heres a cover of words fail as an apology
-mod all of us
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Waffle and Kae Joint Recap 8/16
Hello Tumblr! We still exist! Children are hard for free time...amiright? GET READY FOR AN ACTUAL RECAP!
Waffle So we both decided that life was far too hard at the moment and it was time to give our child to the wolves for the weekend and run to NYC. (Not really, we dropped her with Gramma and Grandpa and came to down to see Noirtown) As long as we were sneaking away, why not stop by the McKittrick. We flew in Friday afternoon and had a drink at Gallow Green before heading down to queue up. There was a surprise happy hour in the Manderley so we were let in early which is always a pleasant surprise. We found some friends inside to pass the time with before the first elevator was eventually called. I have to say what an adorable and charming pair Elizabeth and Joseph make in the bar. They have great chemistry and are just a joy to watch.
Once inside, I headed to the ballroom which was in mid-scene. It was actually the only ballroom I would see in my 2 shows. Jenna’s Sexy witch did a great job of sucking me in with her creepy and seductive eye contact. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go but by the end of the ballroom, the glances and smirks had me hooked. I followed her up and got a Banquo couch duet all to myself. Jenna’s dancing is next level! This dance easily ranks in my top McKittrick dances. She quickly and gracefully disappeared behind the couch. The dance is breathtaking when done well and Jenna seemed to float through the air at every lift. When she was coming down from the bookshelf for the final kiss, she planted her foot on the couch in a way that was strong and invoked thoughts of a wild animal pouncing on her prey. She still clearly commanded the scene and Jack’s Banquo looked dopey and fooled until the final kiss.
The crowds have certainly gotten bolder and pushier the last few years. I would wager that some of it is what I refer to as the Shanghai effect. The cultural norms in Shanghai are much different than in New York. Personal space and following distances are much closer and fan culture is much more intense. The crowds certainly seem more aggressive then I remember years ago. Two shorter girls pushed in front of me when we all entered Agnes’ apartment and to be honest, I am years past the stage where I will push back at all or even stand my ground aggressively. The performers recognize people and know who is around most of the time. Sometimes that results in those people getting a 1:1 and sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, I am not in a place where I need a 1:1 to feel good about my show.
Jenna reached between the 2 and grabbed my hand to pull me in. The first half of the 1:1 was great but we hit a snag when we had a set malfunction which resulted in her not being able to open the proper door to exit Agnes’ apartment. It wasn’t for lack of trying! She gave me the jellybean before taking my hand and escorting me out to the entryway and back to High street. We watched Pil’s Fulton through the window for a while before he pulled open the door to the autopsy room. I wish I could have seen his face when there was no sexy witch waiting for him. She waited until he came back into the main office before forcefully pushing the door open and standing menacingly in the doorway. She backed Fulton up into the bookshelf behind his desk and proceeded to harass him. She retrieved what she needed then tossed Fulton onto High Street. Jenna’s bartop solo was also great like literally everything she does. 
I didn’t feel like seeing the banquet so I headed up to 5. I love me a matron. I really love me a matron that is able to surprise me. I was delighted to find Ginger Kearns’ matron. The matron played a fun little game where she brought out a hand mirror and used it to watch me as I watched her. I love new, weird matron shit! I also love watching how people come and go. It’s oddly comforting watching other guests and pattens in the hotel. How there can be a mob of people and when you look up 30 seconds later, you are alone in a forest. 
Tori’s Hecate is a powerhouse. She still unnerves me. She is in control of every moment that happens in the rep bar. She has a signature look she gives Agnes when she comes in looking for help. She smirks, quirks her eyebrow, and leans back in her chair sizing Agnes up. This Hecate is playing the long game and she is having the best time doing it.
I was very disappointed to find there were no red licorice bites in Paisley’s Sweet Shop. I begrudgingly settled for a fruit slice. 
The other standout of the show for me was Doug’s Speakeasy. I like my speakeasy one of two ways...either a total jerk or fun and carefree. I want a puppy who either pisses in your shoe every time you come home 5 minutes late or I want the bestest boy ever! I used to call Nick Dillenburg Toolbox Speakeasy because his speakeasy was like a toolbag except also, the whole damn toolbox. I loved it. Doug’s speakeasy is mischievous and funny and adorable. He is a good boy. A loyal servant and a fun speakeasy. He did the most delightful little dance I have seen in ages during his downtime. I LOVED IT!!! He leaned back over his bar and did a little flip/roll to the other side at the start of it. Utterly charming! He also gets points for his cute little tap like dance on the pool table. 
Once again, I hung back when it was time to do the shot game but he summoned me forward. I love watching the different variations on the game from performer to performer. He started with the 3 shots before laying out the cards face down. He made a show of flipping them until all the red Kings were facing up and only one card closest to us remained hidden. When he flipped it, it was a black King. He shuffled the cards before smirking and crouching down to continue shuffling while making noises consistent to hacking up a lung, presumably on said cards. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the ridiculous/disgusting nature of it. He came up and we all drew cards. The first person revealed a red King. Doug held out the shot and just before the person could reach it, he sent it flying over his shoulder into the wall behind him. The second person revealed a red King. Doug once again held out the shot and as the person reached for it, he slowly poured it out over the edge of the bar (probably on the white masks shoes). I revealed a red King. He held out the glass and as I reached for it, he drank it himself. 
At this point, he pulled out the box with the whiskey shot. He slowly opened the top and took a big sniff of the contents. We were then invited to do the same. Round two. He narrowed it down to 2 red Kings and the black King. He reshuffled, complete with crouching and coughing. We all drew a card and when we turned them over, the man in the middle had won. He took his shot. Doug took a moment to stare at us all before reaching in and pulling out another shot of whiskey. He then reshuffled and dealt again. We turned over our cards a second time and the same white mask had won again. One game, two shots. Poor dude looked a bit ill by the end of it! We shook hands and the story moved on.
I spent a good amount of time in the bar this show because Elizabeth Lindsay is my absolute favorite. I considered going back in for the finale but in the end, decided that I was having far too much fun chatting which is a new thing for me. I wanted to close out my bar tab before the rush anyway because we had tickets to Bartchland Follies after the show. Would recommend! KaeLyn Hello, weirdos. It’s been a minute, both since we’ve been to the Hotel and since we’ve posted anything remotely resembling a recap. In fact, the formulaic recap era of SNM itself may have passed, as it seems fewer and fewer fandom posts about the show itself are being posted to the hashtag. 
Also, I feel compelled to drop an explainer that we have some questions piled up in our inbox and I just want to say that we do see them and appreciate them, even if we don’t reply. Most likely if we haven't replied it’s because someone else either gets to them first (if, as it often seems, anons are sending those same questions to several old SNM tumblrs at once) or we just don’t see them for a long time because we don’t log in as much and it seems silly by the time we read them. Of course, sometimes we’re just not going to answer on principle (spoilers, rude, etc.). We are still here, queer, going to shows every few months when we can ditch our toddler for a weekend. You’re also likely to catch us at Mayfair or Halloween (Inferno VI? lol). Anyway, our flight home is delayed and we thought it’d be fun to attempt recaps while we were waiting. I imagine mine will come first because I have less to report and, well, Waffle’s recaps have always been more detailed than mine! On Friday, we checked into our hotel and set out to get a leisurely dinner at Ovest, always a good start to a long night in the Hotel. We arrived to the McKittrick around 6:00 PM for a quick drink at Gallow Green, then queued up at 6:30 PM, which I thought was aggressively too early for a 7:30 show, but lucky us–there was a happy hour! Apparently, a thing that’s happening on weekdays? So we were among the first to arrive at the bar, where we unexpectedly ran into some friendly faces from the fandom. One had snagged the corner booth already with some friends. The childfree weekend was off to a great start! It was only made better when Elizabeth (Virginia) showed up and surprised Waffle with a shoulder squeeze.
I rarely full loop these days. Especially after I passed the 100 show mark earlier this year, I have a very chill relationship with Sleep No More. I still look forward to each return, but each show is a slower burn for me and you won’t catch me running up and down the stairs. More often than not, I end up in the bar before the finale. It’s like catching up with an old friend. I find out what’s new. I reminisce on some favorite stories. I settle into a familiar pattern.
This particular night, I started at the ballroom because FOMO-motivated habits are hard to break. The night was kind of a greatest hits list, honestly, and I wish I could tell you I spent time with people I hadn’t watched before or picked up some stuff I hadn’t yet seen (like Doug’s speakeasy), but that’s not what happened. I stayed to watch Stephanie C’s bald witch (f*ck yes) and popped up to catch Nate’s boy witch at the phone booths on his way up to the pool table dance. (Maybe it’s my particular age showing, but Nate looks more like a member of a pop punk band that I definitely saw at Warped Tour in the late 90’s than Draco Malfoy to me. Either way, it works!) 
So, I haven’t been lately and I just have to say that the Nick-Jenna-Stephanie witch trio is A+. Best witch coven energy I’ve seen in a while!I caught the first rave, standing near Tori’s Hecate to catch a bit of everyone’s performance (while the crowd was still light enough that I could also see the prophecy even at a distance). I popped up to five for a bit, which was obviously recently cleaned and freshened up. I actually did a full loop ballroom-to-ballroom with Parker’s porter. Then, I came out to the bar for a drink and chatted with folks out there for the duration of the show.
It was a standard McKittrick re-entry show for me, after a few months away, an all-around solid cast and show. We slid out at the end of the night to go up for the Bartschland Follies (which was superb and sexy and silly and so rad and fun and also had far more straight people who looked slightly scandalized front-and-center in the audience than I anticipated).
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singingcookie · 5 years
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001 for bnha, and 003 with todoroki 👀
Thanks Star! Sorry for the delay on these answers, I was working last night haha... Anyway, let’s go ahead and get started shall we???
001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:
Favorite character:
It’s honestly such a toss up, man. Some days I’ll be like it’s Deku! But other days it’s definitely more Ochako. I love so many character but those definitely top the chart for sure.
Least Favorite character:
Mineta I guess? I dunno, there are even times where I feel he’s tolerable. Like, his part in the Two Heroes movie wasn’t as bad as he can be in the anime/manga.
5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):
Izuocha (Duh, amiright?), Kiribaku, Itsuyui are probably my big three... For the last two though I guess I’ll go with Ojirou/Hagakure (I’m not sure what the actual name combo is though whoops!) and hmmmm...Momojirou...? Tbh though outside of those main three ships, I pretty much multiship a lot of the remaining cast...
Character I find most attractive:
Listen, he may be exhausted all the time but like Aizawa is actually really great. He’s definitely cute for sure.
Character I would marry:
...I have no idea if I’m being honest. I may think Aizawa is cute and all but he already has so little time between teaching and underground hero work, a marriage would be hard to maintain.
Can I say no one? Is that an acceptable answer? Lmao
Character I would be best friends with:
Best friends? Hmmmmm, probably Tsuyu or maybe Deku? My little sister likes to claim me and one of my best friends are basically Bakugou and Deku minus the quirks so I guess for her sake I’ll say Bakugou also lol
A random thought:
I’m so excited for where the story is leading in the manga...! Hori’s gotten me hook line and sinker folks!!
Also I’ve been rereading what’s coming up this season and I’m not emotionally ready to see it animated. Like, I am but I’m not...
An unpopular opinion:
I really can’t stand the Dad For One theory. I really really can’t. It just sounds like lazy writing. Especially when there’s things that kind of derail the theory before it could get off of the ground.
My canon OTP:
Well, technically nothing is canon rn, but I guess I’ll just say Izuocha so I’m not stuck here thinking about it lmao
Non-canon OTP:
Can I say Kiribaku? Like, I feel like there’s a lot of hints but because this is a shounen I’m a little skeptical of it taking off into something canon...
Most badass character:
Listen Uraraka Ochako is a badass motherfucker in canon and I will die on this goddamn hill. But also....Toogata Mirio...
Pairing I am not a fan of:
Kirimina :/ I just...really don’t get it? I think it’s also because I feel like Kirishima looking up to a girl his age as a role model without crushing on her is something really important? And having it be a thing like “he had a crush the whoooooole time” kinda takes some of that out imo.
Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):
Can I bring this back to Mineta? I think he could be someone really interesting if we gave him the ability to grow and learn to change. And like actually see that growth happening. Of course, maybe that’s something we could see eventually since the manga’s not that far in but still.
Favourite friendship:
Y’all are probably expecting me to say like. Izuocha’s friendship or something. And that’s a very close second. But I have to say Iida and Deku. I love when their friendship is showcased. We don’t see it as often, of course, but it really stirs some kinda emotions in me whenever it is brought to the forefront.
And then onto Todoroki!!
003 | Give me a character & I will tell you
How I feel about this character:
I love Todoroki a lot????????? I don’t think I realized how much I loved Todoroki’s character until I started writing for him more. And now like..I can’t stop bringing him up. Three side stories are related to Todoroki for Drops of Jupiter and I’m like “how did this boy take over my heart?”
All the people I ship romantically with this character:
Okay so Todoroki is one of those people that I could see with a few different characters, but it really depends on circumstances. With that said...Ochako, Deku, and occasionally Momo. I’m a little more picky about Todomomo though kind of similar to my reasoning with Kirimina, so you’d really have to find a way to sell me on that one
My non-romantic OTP for this character:
...Bakugou? Bakugou.
My unpopular opinion about this character:
Todoroki isn’t completely clueless he’s just very literal. And also like...I headcanon Todoroki as ace/demi all these sex god Todo headcanons got my tired fam.
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:
TODOROKI. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEARN HOW TO FIGHT CLOSE RANGE WITHOUT YOUR QUIRK!!!
Also I love Todoroki but have yall noticed he’s never had like a genuine loss? He didn’t win against Bakugou in the Sports Festival but that was a mental thing. Same with the license exam, the joint training... Like Todoroki’s never just lost. And I love this boy but I think knocking him down that peg could help lead him into my first point lmao
My OTP:
Todoroki/Soba.
My OT3:
Listen...Tododekuocha...is good...
13 notes · View notes
fic-xation · 5 years
Text
Motel Walls Are Made To Be Soundproof - a GEAH fanfic
Welp. I've officially fallen down the rabbit hole of Netflix's Green Eggs and Ham series. C'est la vie. Because we were ROBBED of this classic shipping scenario towards the beginning of episode ten, I took it upon myself to correct that fatal blunder. Hope you enjoy~! ❤️️❤️️
Archive
"Uh-oh! Sorry, but I've only got one room left. You'll have to share."
"Perfect! Slumber party!"
If Guy's extensive, miserable life has taught him anything, it's that the universe loves throwing him a curve ball whenever possible. And the clerk, (why did he look so familiar?) seemed only too pleased to oblige.
~~
The motel room was nothing short of standard. Beige, unassuming walls, mass-produced inoffensive factory artwork, a television, and twin, bland lamps framing a -
"... Single bed," grumbled Guy, letting his briefcase topple to the hardwood floor. "Figures."
His travel companion, however, approached the subject with his usual flair of obnoxious optimism.
"Hey! Single bed, double the snuzzles, amiright?" Gleefully, Sam elbowed at Guy's belly, before turning his attention to the warbling attaché. "What say we let you stretch your feathers, huh, buddy?"
"Sam, wait-!"
Too late.
Before Guy could get another word in edgewise, Sam flicked at the double latches, and with a caw of delight, Jenkins exploded into the room like a firecracker, crowing and bouncing with all limbs a-gaggle.
“Gyah-!” Guy yelped, stumbling onto his backside. Lucky for him, there was little in the room that could warrant an outrageous destruction fee…
… The noise on the other hand…
“Yeaa-aaah, Mistah J!” Sam whooped, bounding atop the lone bed like the sugar-addled child he was. “Talk about a party animal!”
Guy, however, was far from impressed.
"WILL you two keep it DOWN?!" he hissed, making a mad swipe for the Chikaraffe’s leg. With a playful squawk, however, the bird merely hoisted the elder Knox into the air, before catching him roughly by the scruff of his collar.
"What's got your wockets in a bunch?" Sam sneered, already making himself comfortable against the freshly laundered pillows. Guy, meanwhile, could only dangle helplessly from the smiling beak as he glared towards the wannabe bon vivant.
Thrashing his arms, he managed to free himself before collapsing to the mattress like a sack of cement.
"I don't know if you've noticed, or you're just too crazy to care-" Guy snarled, rising to his knees. "But we are up to our eyebrows in witnesses! Do the words noise complaint mean anything to you?! Or, better yet, search warrant?”
Valid concerns to be sure, but naturally, Sam shot him down with no more than a shrug.
"Chill-AX, my S.O.O.M.D.B... Stressed-Out-Over-Minor-Details-Buddy!” Reaching into the bedside drawer, he began to poke about curiously, evidently looking for something. “Motel walls are made to be soundproof! I mean, heaven forbid ya let the whole building know you n’ your partner are havin’ sweet, wonderful-”
“SAM!” Flushed and flabbergasted, Guy clapped his hands to Jenkins’ ears. (Or, at least, where he assumed ears would be.)
Innocently, Sam tilted his head to one side. “… What? I’m just sayin’, no one wants to have cereal with everyone listening in. Call me old fashioned, but I think slurping and crunching should be done behind closed doors only… Ooh! Speaking of which-”
Unsurprisingly, Sam was quick to find the room service menu. Wasting no time, he began to rifle through the cardboard pages, feigning a look of pseudo-concentration.
“… Let’s see…” he murmured, scratching his chin.
Guy, dumbstruck, could do nothing more than release Jenkins’ head with an aggravated grumph of embarrassment, clumsily shifting his hands into the pockets of his fur.
Why did he get the feeling Sam's… suggestive phrasing was all too deliberate?
"… Look-" he said at last, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just do me a favor, and keep the nonsense to a minimum tonight, okay?"
"Roger-dodger, Captain Cantankerous!" Sam proclaimed, posing his hand in a jolly salute. "Me n' Mr. J'll be the very models of good behavior! ... Won't we, boy? Huh?"
Jenkins, with an excitable gobble, swiftly rolled onto his back.
"Ooooh-” Sam cooed. “Looks like someone is croakin’ for a strokin’!”
With reckless abandon, he launched himself towards the bird, eagerly combing his hands along the soft, feathery belly. “We're gonna be good, wholesome tenants for this good, wholesome establishment. Aren't we? Aren't we, ya silly-willy-nilly-boy...!"
Even Guy couldn’t help but smile slightly, quietly succumbing to a gentle pet along the downy fuzz of the Chikaraffe’s neck.
The power of Sam’s smugness, though, was certainly enough to ruin the moment. With a jerk of his hand, Guy hastily withdrew, and crossed over to the phone atop the T.V mantle.
“Ah, gettin’ the midnight munchies, are we?” Sam smirked, flopping onto his stomach.
“… Sam, it’s seven-thirty.”
“You say tomato, I say ketchup.” He shrugged, propping himself against his elbows. “Oh, but ya know what tastes great in a motel room paid for by identity theft? Couple a’-!”
"If you say the words, 'eggs,' or 'ham,' or 'green,' in any particular order, I'm dumping you off at the diner where I found you." Guy warned, his brows derisively furrowed.
"... Questioned rescinded!" Sam chirped, though something in his expression seemed to have faltered a bit.
... Or, maybe it was just Guy's imagination.
"In any case-" Guy's furry finger trailed the length of the rotary dial. "I'm not callin' room service. I'm just gonna ask the front desk to send up a cot."
Sam chuckled, impishly turning to his back as he kicked at the air. "A cot? … Honestly, Guy, you spoil this bird silly! But there's really no need, I mean, this goofball should be fine with just a sheet or two-"
"It's not for Jenkins." Guy said stoutly. "It's for me."
… Sam’s feet ceased their flexing. Pouncing back to his knees, he stared at Guy with eyes like saucers.
"... For you?" He repeated dumbly. "Ya mean you're not-"          
"No." Guy huffed. "I'm not." Shifting his shoulders, he fidgeted slightly with the coil of the phone. "... It... It’s just for comfort's sake. I-I'd feel better if we weren't... If I-" He cut himself off, practically tangling the cord between his awkward joints.
Sam observed his friend for a moment or two, before smiling easily with a flash of his hand. "Say no more, Pally O'Malley. You need your sleep-space, and I respect that. So!” He leapt to his feet. “What d'ya say we pull the ol' switcheroonie, and trade spots, huh? Let ME take the cot, and you can help yourself to the king-size!"
He then made an exaggerated gesture across the bedspread, like a gameshow host parading a new car. Needless to say, Guy was a little more than surprised.
"... Are... are you sure?"
"Of course! A lil' guy like me doesn't need this much room, anyway. Besides-” Slowly, Sam tucked his hands behind his back, sheepishly shuffling at his feet. “… After all the confuzzlement I've put ya through, this only seems fair."
… Sam was certainly a lot of things, (the words 'dope,' and 'nimrod' generally came to mind,) but every once in a while, he showed a certain level of autonomy Guy didn't think was possible. Briefly lost for words, Guy stared, slightly slack-jawed, before inevitably coming to his senses with a shake of his head.
"... Er... Thank you." He mumbled quietly.
~~
After everything that Guy’d gone through within the last two days, (ranging from breakneck bean-recovery, to adversarial avalanches,) he would’ve happily sacrificed his own appendix for a good night’s rest.
Unfortunately, (but not unsurprisingly,) he had no such luck.
At first, it’d been Jenkins vying for his attention, whining softly as he prodded his beak to Guy’s shoulder.
“… Mr. Jenkins… No… It’s sleep-time…” Guy murmured drowsily, his face half-hidden behind the mound of pillow. If Guy had to guess, he’d wager the big fella was just restless, or hungry… But there was something to his chirping that felt more… desperate. Like he was actively pleading for Guy’s attention. Against his better judgement, Guy finally arose with a groggy grouse, rubbing his palm to the grittiness of his sleep-starved eyes.
“Alright, buddy, wassa matter?” he mumbled with a yawn. Looking over to the creature, Guy expected him to be pecking at the windows, or, (heaven forbid,) scratching at the door… But, to his surprise, Jenkins’ attention was not pointed at the room…
But to Sam.
Sam, who was curled like a boiled shrimp against the suspended canvas of the lightweight cot, quivering pitifully…
… Oh, Dillikins, is he sick?!
Frantically, Guy flicked at the adjoining lamp, scrambling to Sam’s side.
“Sam! Sam, what-”
“… M’sorry…”
Sam’s voice came in feebly; so feebly, in fact, that Guy wasn’t even sure he’d really heard it. Brow furrowed, he gingerly knelt to the floor.
Sam was… sorry?
… Sorry for what?
It was then that Guy realized – Sam wasn’t sick, he was dreaming… Then again, judging by the violent twitches, maybe nightmare would be the better word…
"Sam... Sam, c'mon, wake up-" Guy whispered, hopelessly jostling at his partner’s shoulders… but to no avail.
"... M'sorry..." Sam mumbled again. Guy couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something about his voice was... unnerving. It lacked his devil-may-care smoothness and bravado... It sounded weaker, smaller... younger, even. “I… I promise I'll be good... I won't be a burden, Mom, please-"
Without warning, Sam’s rubbery arms twisted themselves around Guy’s unsuspecting midsection like a snake. He reeled, flustered and shocked, but there was no prying the little man from the surprise embrace. He seemed glued to Guy’s stomach, murmuring pathetically all the while,
“Don’t leave… Don’t leave, I’ll be good… I swear I’ll be good…”
It was not the monstrous storm of a boisterous sob, but instead, something quieter... and, all together sadder. It rattled in Sam's ribcage, shaking him from the inside-out. Against his friend, he shivered like a pup, huffing and panting and gulping for air, as his tears dampened the weathered, oak-colored coat.
Guy was all too familiar with the type of nightmare Sam was having, even if the specific context was lost on him. More than once, he’d woken up to an exhausted morning after a fit of grief-filled sleep; his face so ludicrously wet with tears, one would think it'd been raining indoors.
"SAM!" Guy hissed, rustling at his partner’s arms like a maraca. Still murmuring his ghostly pleas, Sam head merely bobbed lifelessly.
“What is he, comatose?!" Guy seethed, shooting Jenkins a thunderstruck look. "I can't get him up!"
Mr. Jenkins whimpered helplessly, glancing between his two adopted papas dads like a frightened toddler. Just then, his face lit up, and, (in what Sam would no doubt classify as a lightbulb moment,) he snapped his powerful jaws at the little man's leg.
… Sam was certainly awake then. His eyes popped open like two jack-in-the-boxes, and with an exaggerated breath, Guy knew a scream was bound to follow. Reeling, he hastily clapped his hands to his partner's open mouth, but not even that was enough to stifle the shriek of pain.
"Shh- be quiet, just be quiet!" he urged, not troubling to temper his own volume as he wrestled the writhing Sam. It proved to be more difficult than one would think, (after all, he was no bigger than their luggage to begin with,) but in his twisting arms, Sam squirmed and thrashed a weasel.
“You're fine, you're okay, just be quiet, please!"
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
There came a harsh hammering from the opposite wall, rattling the headboard and lamps in its wake.
“Hey-!” cried a muffled, male voice. “Put a cork in it over there!”
“Yeah!” resounded a second, unfamiliar, (but equally masculine,) voice. “Some of us are tryin’ to eat cereal here!”
Red-faced with effort as well as embarrassment, Guy bit at his lip.
… So much for soundproof walls…
“S-sorry!” he stammered, hurriedly gesturing for Jenkins to hush. “My, uh… my buddy here just stubbed his toe! … We – we promise to keep it down!”
“Yeah, you better!” growled the first voice. “Cause if I hear one more peep outta either a’ you, I’m filin’ a complaint!”
Guy swallowed. “… D-duly noted…” Briefly, he paused, wondering what else to say. “Er… Sleep tight!” he added, with a gawky sort of grin.
“I wouldn’t count on it!” giggled the second voice.
Finally, after a moment of strained silence, Guy let out a breath.
“You know, those two sound so cute together.”
With a strangled yap, Guy glanced down towards Sam. He’d all but forgotten about his partner, now perfectly conscious as he lounged within the incidental cradle.
“I gotta say-” Sam continued, casually resting his hands behind his head. “In spite of the blinding pain in my leg, this is a pretty nice way to wake up.”
With a noise of disgust, Guy hastily tossed Sam to the bed like one unloading a bag of trash.
“For your information-” he snapped. “I was trying to wake you up before you got us thrown out on our furry duffs! You were caterwauling like a Pandog with a Spork in its spleen!”
… Okay, so, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Even Jenkins shot Guy an accusatorial glare.
Sam’s smile, however, was dropped almost at once. “… You… You heard all that?”
Guy blinked, a little stunned. He’d been expecting a laugh, or a dismissive hand-wave, but… Sam looked almost afraid, sitting back against his knees as he anxiously wrung at his hands.
“… Er… Not too much-” Guy mumbled, suddenly feeling as fretful as Sam looked. There was something so off-putting about seeing such a plucky spirit look so apprehensive… Sheepishly, he rubbed at his arm, glancing towards the ground. “… I-I mean… You mentioned your mom once, but-”
Guy looked up, suddenly noting the subtle twitch in Sam’s seemingly blank eyes.
“… Sam…?” he ventured cautiously.
All at once, Sam’s voice broke out in a crooked sort of chortle.
“BOY-!” he proclaimed, in an unsettling parody of his usual swagger as he hopped to the floor. “I sure could go for a swim right now! Did ya know this place even had a pool? I was shocked, I mean, talk about luxury! Did I remember to pack my swim-trunks? Ah, I guess it doesn’t matter; I mean, I only got the one shirt anyway, right? Do ya think they got pool floaties? Gee, I hope they got pool flo-”
“Sam.”
The little vagabond was already halfway towards the door when Guy’s hand came to rest at his shoulder. Visibly cringing, Sam risked a glimpse, and found his partner’s expression rather… uncharacteristically compassionate.
"... Heh... No beatin' around the bush with you, huh?” Chewing his lip, Sam looked back down.  “… L-look, it... it's nothing! We all have our weird dreams, it's nothin' to get all flibberty-gibbet about!"
Guy groaned, wearily massaging at the corner of his eye. "Sam, a dream about two countries warring over butter is weird. You were having a sleep-paralyzing nightmare. It was…” He paused, suddenly feeling considerably warm. “… Disconcerting.”
"... Oh, Guy-" Sam's eyes wobbled with hyperbolic affection. "You do care!"
He lunged for a hug, but, per the norm, Guy was quick to rebuff.
"I just wanna get this resolved so I can get some sleep, okay?" he spat, shoving the Who to one side. Nevertheless, Sam remained as misty-eyed as a child coveting a Valentine's Day card.
"Okaaaay... ya big ol' softie-pants."
With an amorous giggle, he lightly tapped at Guy's knee, who just rolled his eyes.
“… Alright, c’mon you.” Decisively, Guy headed back towards the bed, helping himself to a seat along the edge. Turning his eyes, he tapped at the open space beside him, to which Sam gave his usual melodramatic gasp.
"You... you mean it?"
Reddening slightly, Guy scowled heavily. "Don’t go gettin’ mushy on me; my legs were just gettin' tired, and..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Look, just get over here before I change my mind."
With a hoot, and a tap of his heels, Sam was already in, burrowing beneath the blankets like a rabid Groundgopher. As tightly wound as a burrito, he poked his face out from the folds, and giggled huskily.
"I always say, heart-to-heart talks are always better when you're all snuzzled up under a blanket! Ooh, ya know what would make this even better? Hot choco-late!" Dreamily, he sighed, and smacked at his lips. "What do ya say we order ourselves a round to get started, and-"
“Sam, stop trying to change the subject and talk to me.” Guy interjected, swiveling in place as he crossed his legs. “… Is talking about your mother that much of a sudden sore spot for you?”
Even before the sentence was out, Guy knew he’d said the wrong thing. Sam lost all trace of mirth in his expression, slowly staring out towards the opposite wall like a man in mourning.
It then occurred to Guy this was probably the first Sam was ever reluctant to speak.
"... Look-" Guy sighed, resting his arms to his raised knees. "... I'm probably the last Guy to be givin' advice about family stuff, but... whatever the deal is, it seems to me like your mom really loved you... And I mean, look at you now. A certified wildlife protector-! A hero, risking life and limb to protect a helpless animal-"
With every word of praise, Sam seemed to sink further and further into the blankets. Sensing the obvious discomfort, Guy quickly switched gears.
"... Look, bottom line is, you got a lot for a mom to be proud of. That..." he glanced over his shoulder towards the briefcase housing his dismantled self-flyer, and sighed. "... That's more than a lot of people can say."
Despite the gentle words, Sam continued to stew in his self-imposed silence. Warbling softly, Jenkins reached out across the bed, and nudged his nose to Sam's shoulder invitingly. With a resigned sort of smile, Sam naturally obliged, stroking his hand along the bird's mop of magenta hair.
"... I can't say any of that, though..." he said quietly. More quietly, in fact, than Guy'd ever heard him. "My mom wouldn't be proud, ‘cause... she never knew me."
Silently, Jenkins withdrew his head, as Guy could only stare. "... What did you say?"
Surely he'd heard wrong.
"... I made it all up." Sam mumbled after a moment. "Everything I said about my mom... was a lie."
... Then... All those stories-
"But... But what about the juice incident?" Guy reasoned. "Or the stuffed animals, or - or-" briefly, he snapped at his fingers, desperately wracking his brain for any other examples. "Or your imaginary friend, Reggie? Who she pretended was real?"
Beneath the thick veneer of shame and guilt, Sam couldn't help but feel a soft pat of fondness for his gruffy companion.
... He really had been listening...
"Made up... Pretend... Non-existaroo." he listed hoarsely, staring up towards the ceiling. "I never told anybody this before, but... when I was very little my mom-" Sam's voice broke slightly, and he swallowed. "... Left me at an orphanage... It's always just been me. I mean-" he paused, smiling ever so faintly. "At least until I met you."
... Guy was stupefied. Practically since the beginning, he'd pegged his fellow felon as a fool; a clingy buffoon born with an undeserved silver spoon in his mouth... And now, come to find out... he'd been abandoned?
"... Do you remember anything about your parents?" Guy ventured softly.
Sam looked away. "... I remember my mom... a little. Just... one thing."
"What?"
Even in the darkness, Guy could catch the faintest hue of rose blooming through Sam's pearly fur. Shuffling deeper under the covers, he mumbled sheepishly, "It's not important..."
Guy found himself leaning forward.
"Go ahead," he whispered encouragingly.
Though something told him he already knew what it was. Whimpering shyly, Sam drew the brim of his sleep cap over his eyes.
"... It's silly..."
"... Sam..."
Sam jolted slightly, looking out from under his hat. He'd known from the get-go that Guy was not a touchy-feely sort of Knox, and yet... he'd made a gentle reach for his partner's trembling hand, as seamlessly as though he'd been practicing for years. And even more puzzling, he showed no sign of regret, or awkwardness... He just stared with those lined, tired eyes, and squeezed.
Sam’s face went from white to pink… Then, smiling in defeat, he relaxed, and gazed up towards the ceiling.
"... She made me breakfast."
... Guy'd known it, without really knowing it... And even still, he couldn't think of what to say. How many times had Sam ordered that dish in their shared existence? ... And how many times did Guy gag, and shudder, and turn his nose up at it?
... How many times did he turn his nose up to her memory?
The guilt suddenly sagged in his stomach like a stone.
"... I bet hers-" he said after a beat. "... Were really good."
Sam chuckled sadly, finally turning onto his side, though he still avoided eye contact. With his free hand, he mournfully traced the swirling pattern of the bed sheet. "The best... Really green... Super eggy... I've been trying to find her all these years, so I could ask... why, ya know?" He blinked, and a tear lazily trailed along his fur. "... Why she gave me up..."
Guy wanted to say something... anything... but a saddened, desperate chuckle quickly interrupted.
"I-I'm sure it's a good reason, I just-" Sam's voice seem to thicken with grief, as his grip on Guy's hand only tightened. One by one, tear after tear splashed against the bedspread, but Sam was determined to carry on. "... I really wanna know... So I keep ordering them, and I keep trying them... But they're..." he struggled to swallow the burgeoning lump in his throat. "... Never hers..."
Sam I-Am and Guy Am-I had not been together for very long, but in their time together, there seemed to be one hard and fast rule.
Sam was always the first to instigate a hug.
Tonight, Guy broke that rule.
“… Keep trying, Sam …” he whispered, gently cupping Sam’s head to his chest. The gesture and confession proved to be too much for Sam, as he quickly dissolved into snuffles of catharsis, desperately clasping his Guy like a life preserver. Purring softly, Jenkins curled his elastic neck around the pair of them, encircling the two like a wreath of pure warmth.
"Here, blow." Guy said after a minute, plucking a tissue from the box atop the bedside drawers, and gingerly held it to Sam's button nose.
Unfortunately, the moment of tactile tenderness was quickly squelched, as, with a nasally Bronx cheer, Sam's thunderous mucus rocketed a stream of slime as green as his eggs. Quickly suppressing the urge to retch, Guy snagged at a fistful of tissues, hastily smothering them to Sam's sticky face.
"... Better?" he asked, swiftly tossing the snotty clump to one side.
Sam gave a shuttering sniffle, nodding weakly.
“… Y-yeah… Th-thanks, Guy…” Smiling wetly, he dragged his knuckles across his swimming eye before casting the discarded cot a look of drained submission. “I… I guess I oughta be gettin’ back to bed…”
He made to move, but was suddenly pulled back in by Guy.
“… You don’t have to leave…” he muttered, squaring his shoulders with a great show of shyness. Lowering his gaze, he buried his twisted mouth against the fluff of his tawny neckline. “… N-not… not if you don’t want to, I mean…”
“... For real?” Sam gawked. “… But… but what about your sleep-space?”
“Eh,” Guy shrugged, finally sliding in under the comforter, as Jenkins dutifully uncoiled. “I always sleep alone… So, maybe…” Shyly, he fluffed at his pillow. “… I could try it with a companion, for once… Who knows?”
Without realizing it, he’d shuffled in closer, making a second clasp for Sam’s feeble hand.
“… I might wind up liking it.”
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ruinsofxerxes · 6 years
Note
MORE ED HEADCANONS PLZ
this has been sitting in my askbox for a few days because I need to let the headcanons.....brew...........now they are ready......like a fine wine..............
has 300% gotten his hair caught in his automail joints. among other places. take this from someone with super long hair. it is.......everywhere
also leaves hairbands EVERYWHERE. around the dorm, at the bottom of his suitcase, even like under the cushions at the office and the team is like h o w
some of the failed transmutation and his automail surgery are kind of spotty because tbh trauma
but damn nightmares are vivid amiright
HOOOOOO BOYYYYYY
sometimes after a particularly bad night he’ll just crawl over to al and lay against his armor, and usually falls asleep and has a better night though his neck kills him in the morning
sometimes complains about the mess hall food to al but mostly so al doesn’t feel bad about not being able to eat it, tho tbh it isn’t all that great anyway tbh
probably enjoys piano music and can play some because he’s just a pretentious little prodigy shit like that
has oil stains on everything he owns and loves, i mean that’s canonly why he always wears dark clothes, but it’s probably like on his bed sheets and just......eVERYWHERE LMAO
also probably always smells slightly of oil and metal. it be like that. and probably like cheap hotel shampoo or smthg
i feel like i had more but now i can’t remember rip my life.... . .....
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misssugarpinkshome · 7 years
Note
I know this ship might be weird, but could you try some Grillby x Male Reader? Sorry, I know you have to take some creative liberty on this one, but he's so....HOT HAHAHHAHA but seriously I'd really appreciate if you can do it! :D
sansskele-ton: grillby x reader? :D
Two requests for this one! Man, you have NO idea how long this one took me. It also didn’t help that I’ve been so busy, and also that… >>
You had wandered into the warm diner too often for Grillby to not recognize you. Your face was familiar to him. As was the faded, torn up grey jacket and the small, lackadaisical smile on your face. You always wore both.
Many of the monsters still there this late greeted you as you made your way to the bar. They still looked at you curiously, and you let them. What you were doing here night after night was your business, not theirs. You waved back to them, staying impersonal but friendly, as always. You had always been called a walking paradox by your family.
You sat, turning to the familiar bartender as he made his way towards you behind the counter. You smiled and waved in greeting. “Heya, Grillbz. How you doin’?”
The embers around him seemed to spark, the lights flickering in his glasses as they did; you watched, making sure to try and keep calm (as always) even as you were mesmerized by the display. The fire elemental nodded your way, his version of a greeting, and you could swear the fire shifted just slightly as though he were smiling.
You ignored how your heart slowed as you watched him, as well as the thought that came unbidden to your mind that you could watch that flame forever.
He pointed, as always, to the chalkboard behind him, the menu you had never bothered to examine closely written in slightly curled handwriting. There was a questioning pop from the flames. You chuckled and shook your head. “Nope. Just whatever’s free.”
He huffed softly, smoke coming from the smallest sliver of a mouth that you could just barely make out. Normally, his face was just a shifting mass of flames with no discernible features. Those times when he sighed or spoke - few and far between on the latter - were the only times you could see his mouth open. Oddly enough, you found yourself… curious. Was it warm inside his body? Was he burning to the touch? Could YOU tou-
You looked away as he ducked down under the counter, trying to ignore a need to blush. You hoped it worked. You didn’t want Grillby to notice the crush you’d been fighting for so long…
Damn it. This had been happening since the day you first met him. You had to get those thoughts out of your head.
You weren’t going to go through heartbreak again so soon.
Shortly enough, a bowl of pretzels was on the bar, as well as a glass of bubbling soda. You raised your brows at the latter of the two, looking at Grillby seriously. “Grillbz.” He smirked at you, leaning against the bar and nodding. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t fight him. Besides - it wasn’t like you were about to deny a free drink. You sipped it, relishing the taste of magic drinks. Monsters definitely had culinary talents.
You munched on pretzels absently, watching Grillby intently, just enjoying the slight warmth that came off of him as he reached for one of the nearby rags to clean a glass. The rag was dry, of course, which made washing it mostly pointless. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t you have someone to help you clean those?”
Grillby glanced at you and the cup before shrugging. He looked back up, and you could see the way his mouth shifted as it opened. “Relaxing,” he said in a wavering, whispering voice, one that set a fire - heh - in your bones.
You ignored the feelings, looking down into the glass. “If you say so. I’d probably think it’s just frustrating.” Grillby shrugged again, still just rubbing at the inside of the glass. “Is water really that bad for your hands?”
He tilted his head this way and that. His fire seemed to crackle a bit more, almost like a disturbed campfire when a log falls. Your ears seemed to prickle slightly, the hair on the back of your neck standing up on end. God, that sound. It was absolutely incredible how a sound could impart so much. You grinned. “So it’s more like it just messes you up, huh?”
He seemed somewhat surprised that you understood him, but only a little. You’d spent plenty of time with him by now. It’d been a few weeks since your first day here, and you had dropped by every single day since that first time. Every day that you weren’t struggling for money or passed out under a bench somewhere, that is. You didn’t really keep good hours anymore.
Still. You visited often, always getting the same thing. “Whatever’s free.” You couldn’t afford anything else - you thrived on free things. You made your way through life with flattery and friendship, weedling your way into the lives of bartenders and homeowners and chefs at restaurants who took pity on you. You walked in like you owned the joint with whatever spare cash you could use to tip, and then you got to know the person at the bar. Soon enough, you were getting free drinks, easy.
You never stayed long, though. You were a wanderer - you kept moving. It was this weird compulsion you had. You had never been good at settling down, staying in one place. That’s probably why you and your ex hadn’t worked out. Other than the fact that he was a fuck that cheated on you, he had always planned on settling down, when you just wanted to… to go. You needed to be free to make your own choices and do your own thing.
And that’s why you had come to Grillby’s, all that time ago.
Monsters were new. Exciting. And taboo. Everyone hated monsters, it seemed, so of course you didn’t. There wasn’t a need to, and moreover, they were pretty cool. Cool magic, lots of money for people down on their luck (aka, you, when you were singing for money on the streets), and, surprisingly, a universal sense of humor. Their entire race seemed to thrive on puns and jokes.
So Grillby’s, a very monster oriented bar, run by a monster (or so you had heard) was an adventure for you. A chance to get wild, try something new, and see if that finally put out the spark for your crazy life that you had been fostering for years now. But when you walked in, you felt an entirely different spark.
Grillby was hot.
You had laughed at the pun when you first thought about it, but dear God, that man was sexy. Bartending outfit that clung close to his limbs, a warmth that radiated off of him, and the gorgeous sensation of fire, close enough to touch, close enough to feel, you desperately wanted-
A curious crackling pulled you from your thoughts. You shook your head, realizing that you had just been blankly staring at Grillby while thinking. You cleared your throat. “Sorry, zoned. Did you say anything?” The fire elemental seemed almost to smirk at the question. You chuckled, relieved that he didn’t seem to find anything from the short mental absence. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose not.”
You glanced around. Monsters were starting to trickle out of the room slowly. You struck up a conversation, however one-sided it seemed, with Grillby to pass the time. You asked him how business was, how his niece was doing - he seemed impressed that you remembered. Heh, you always remembered; remembering stuff about bartenders made them happy, and a happy bartender is way more likely to hand out free drinks.
Grillby actually asked a little bit about you this time, too. You didn’t say too much that would be weird - a homeless artist with barely enough money to scrape by didn’t sound as cool as an artist. You chatted about what you liked to paint, how you did mostly street art, and how much you loved it. You sorta got rambly when you got to talk about art. Grillby didn’t seem to mind - if anything, he seemed more enraptured by it than anyone else you’d talked to about it. His eyes (or at least, his glasses) never moved away from your face.
The last booth of monsters, two dogs that seemed too cuddly to be anything but married, were standing and getting ready to leave when you realized how much time had passed. You licked your lips. You would probably have to get gone here soon. You grabbed your drink, downing a good amount of it. You were usually dehydrated, so the soda was definitely welcome.
You glanced at your watch. Yeah, it was definitely around that time. You stood, stretching. “I should get outta your hair. It’s closing time.”
There was more popping, sounding a bit more aggressive - though that was the wrong word for it - as Grillby looked at you. He pointed to the drink and pretzels.
You shook your head with a smile. “Nah, it’s closing. I don’t wanna be a bother.” Grillby shook his head as well, setting his thoroughly washed glass on the counter. “Fine, fine, I’m not a bother - I’ll still get going. You’ve gotta lock up and all.”
You started walking to the door, but you heard a voice, much louder than it usually was: “Wait.”
You froze, looking behind you. Grillby was stepping out from behind the counter, rolling up his sleeves. Oh god. Muscles. Why did a fire have muscles, that just wasn’t fair in the slightest. “No need to shout for my sake,” you said, the words slipping out of your mouth.
To your surprise, Grillby’s face seemed to shift in color, the cheeks slowly changing to a deeper color - was that… magenta? Yeah, no doubt about it, his cheeks were purpling. It looked almost… almost like a blush? “Do you have somewhere to go?”
That was the most you had ever heard him say. His voice - dear lord, your heart was racing, you wished it would stop - was deep and popped more the more that he said. It was still like the barest whisper, just a little louder, as though he were whispering right in your ear. You suppressed a shiver. “I… Er. No. I don’t.” Usually, you wouldn’t have been so forthcoming with the fact that you were homeless, but Grillby didn’t deserve lies.
He seemed to be frowning. “Stay.”
‘W-What?”
He pointed above him and then towards the back door. “Second floor. Apartment. Stay.”
You blinked, trying to find words. Grillby was… telling you to stay. With him. In the apartment upstairs. “I… what?” His frown seemed to lessen at your confusion with a curious little pop, almost like laughter. Your brows furrowed. “Hey, don’t laugh, it’s a legit question!” That was the wrong thing to say, as he actually started to laugh. Oh god. Your heart was noooot slowing down anytime soon. You couldn’t resist a small smile. “You really want me to stay?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
You looked at him, just a bit confused. “Why?”
The blush quickly came back. Was that really a blush? How could you really know? He just walked past you and you can feel the heat from him as he passed. He went and locked the door, lowering the blinds to show the bar was closed. “It’s somewhere.”
You somehow got the feeling he wasn’t being entirely honest.
You followed him awkwardly as he led you through the back entrance and through the kitchen. It wasn’t very interesting there. He took you up a staircase beyond the kitchen, up to a new door, and through there as well into, well… his apartment.
Grillby had taken you home. Alone.
You really wished your heart would slow down.
You grinned, hoping it was convincing enough to distract from your blatant unease. “Nice place.”
Grillby didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. He nodded to the living room with a warm smile. He was also still purplish in his cheeks. You licked your lips, trying to work out if you should call attention to it. You walked slowly to the living room, taking in the apartment. It was homey, though it definitely could use more personal effects.
As you looked at Grillby, you just couldn’t hold back the question anymore. “So, uh, what’s with the…” You pointed to your own cheeks for clarification.
He put his own hand to his cheek and, suddenly, there was more popping. The tips of his hair grew more yellow, and his cheeks flashed blue for just an instant. Your brows raised as the slightest knowledge of chemistry came flooding back.
Fire looks colder when it gets hotter.
Cheeks get hot when blushing.
“You’re totally blushing.” He covered his face. You couldn’t help but grin - that was adorable. “Grillbz, why’re you blushing?”
Grillby dropped one of his hands to his hip and the other to his cheek, fire crackling a bit more erratically now. He seemed to be thinking about something. Debating, almost.
Then, without a word, he nodded and moved towards you, pulling himself down by - oh. Oh he was on your lap, he was straddling you and - oh god - his mouth met yours. He kissed you.
He kissed you.
Holy shit. He was-
It was a very new feeling. Your brain short circuited. You could feel the fire around him warming your bare skin, his lips meeting yours and this overwhelming heat just bearing down on you, causing you to - strangely enough - shiver. You leaned into him more, grabbing at his shirt, desperate to have even more, even as one of his hands grabbed your arm. The feeling of the flame licking at your skin should have been pain, but it wasn’t. It was… intoxicating. Dangerous.
You were enjoying this. Holy fuck, you were enjoying this, you kept leaning into him, a hum building up in your throat as you just thrived in the sensation of him on top of you. It was like he took the air from your lungs, took everything out of you other than the feeling of him. He pulled away after a moment, and in reality, that eternity of feeling had just been a moment, his blush intensifying alongside yours as you panted.
… Holy.
Fuck.
… Grillby just kissed you.
You blinked, looking at him, panting. “W… Wha…”
He looked away, as though scandalized. He looked dreadfully embarrassed. Being this close, you could see the hint of his yellow, shimmering eyes behind his glasses, could see how expressive he was beneath all those layers. He opened his mouth, licking his lips (oh god, he had a tongue and you had ideas where that could be put to use). “B-Bad with words,” he stuttered out, flushed. “Like you a lot.”
You grinned out of bewilderment, still a bit breathless. “You… what? You just met me. You don’t even know me.”
“Nice. Kind. Talk to me. Sexy.” You burst out with a laugh, hearing the usually prim and proper bartender say something like that. He pouted slightly. “Like you.”
You took a deep breath, looking at him. Well… fuck. You couldn’t deny you had feelings for him. But were you even ready for something like that? You had just gotten over your ex, after all… Grillby didn’t know you. Not really. He knew the you that walked into the bar like you owned the joint.
You were a wanderer, you didn’t stay. You would fall apart. He wouldn’t want some homeless artist stealing his living space. He wouldn’t. Want. you.
But here you were, ready to kiss him again, ready to lose yourself in him. This was something new. Something exciting (especially judging from how tight your pants were getting with him on top of you like that). This was…
Something you wanted to try. Even if it was just for a little while.
“I’ve been crushing on you since I walked in that first night,” you stumbled with saying, hardly registering the words. Grillby looked ridiculously surprised. “You paid attention to me. You listened to my rambling, you - heh, fuck, if you think I’m sexy, you need more mirrors in this place.” His fire popped in surprise, causing you to laugh again. “And, well… God, I just want to kiss you again.”
He blushed more, his entire face purplish-blue, and God you could feel it. You wanted to feel more of it. You wanted the feeling of his fire on your bare skin, everywhere it could touch. You’d always been a bit more of a physical lover than anything else. Somehow, judging from how he kept squirming and how his hand still hadn’t left your arm, you were pretty sure Grillby was the same way.
He looked at you seriously. Without another word, he kissed you again, this time his tongue slipping into your all too willing mouth. You started to lean back more, letting him lie on top of you. His spare hand started to stray under your shirt and you could feel the steam from where his fire met your open mouth. You were panting again. Only one thought flashed across your mind before you were lost in the sensation of fire.
You hoped he liked it rough.
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iishooshomin · 3 years
Text
For the people who say Murdoc has just now started to feel remorse or that he never had a bit of moral understanding (which btw he had, even if he didn’t act like it)
phase1: 
Murdoc’s word to the wise. Listen, no one looks up to a man whose down. I know it’s cool to be depressed and all that but please don’t share it with the rest of the class. Bottle it up. There’s no point walking around with a face like a smacked ****. Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and you’re on your own, you miserable little bugger. Some people look at the glass and see it’s half-empty. Some see it half full. Me… it’s not even my glass, I don’t think but fill it up anyway. So even if you’re a sensitive little tosser, make out you’re happy cos no one gives a s***. I mean we just seem to have a glut of these moody and aloof singers who think it’s deep to be s*** at dancing. I think we should get Thom and Tim Booth into a room and see who can twitch like the bigger moron and lets all have a damn good laugh.
Man, I’ve always loved music, my Mum used to dance around the house doing the housework with me on her hip listening to Motown.
phase2:  (from ROTO) 
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phase3:
the entirety of (17.09.10) Murdoc webchat on Facebook
But I love the beauty of those early etchings. Staring into the vast, open chasms of the nocturnal universe, a skyfull of dust and a gentle tune emanating from me and my minuscule soul. Mmmmmm... When you’re in that state, everything seems all ....isolated and correct.
Y’know sometimes it’s possible to break stuff so it’s unfixable. It’s just Broken. There’s no glue for a broken heart (Murdoc on ‘Broken’)
You misunderstand the fundamental nature of the greatest pop groups. We are what I believe psychologists called "co-dependents". I mean, it's my band but those other three have brought a certain something to the table that really takes us to the next level. Even if I do hate them ... sometimes.
I programmed the drums for Plastic Beach myself. A doddle! Drummers are ten a penny, anyway. Still, I miss the big guy.
If my plans come together, these shows will go down in history for the sheer weight of icons, legends, and music genii on stage at one time!!! And that’s just me and Russel - if I can find him.
phase 4:
If you say so. Do you have any remorse for the terrible things you’ve done in the past? Murdoc: ******* hell, not this again. Look, if you’re talking about the rumour that I put a hit out on Noodle, then replaced her with a cyborg, and then the cyborg tried to kill me; I mean yes, it’s totally true. But I’d hardly call that a terrible thing. A creative disagreement, just part of the process. We’re all friends again now.
2D: One time after a show Murdoc got very drunk. He pointed at me then one of the security guards escorted me to his trailer. When I got inside, Murdoc gave me strawberries and told me about all the tragedies in his life, stopping only to cry or smoke a joint. Afterwards he said I was a good listener, and not like all the other girls. We hugged, exchanged numbers, and I left. He never called.
phase 5:
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2D has also stated that Murdoc cries at 4 am while listening to Whitey Houston
phase6:
You guys have been working together for over two decades. Have any of you come close to quitting the band and if so why? Murdoc: Quit?! Do me a favour. Gorillaz are family! Granted, there’s been a few crossed words over the years, multiple punch-ups, several minor lawsuits and one ALLEGED assassination attempt, but that’s all just banter. What doesn’t kill you and all that. Hashtag BMF! (bandmates forever) Amiright?
(I have recently found that this is a lie on Murdoc’s part. The band HAVE come close to quitting, many times. Russel and Noodle threatened to quit before 2001 during talks of a movie, Murdoc basically walked out himself in 2002 after trying to murder 2D. Noodle wanted to quit after the production of DD near 2006 because the band was having a bad influence on her. Murdoc broke up the rest of band after 2008 because of “physical repulsion” (... once the door slammed shut on Gorillaz that evening, for me that was it. I was sick of the sight and smell of the whole band. I just wanted to have a long lost weekend, and somehow I managed to string it out for about three years.   -Murdoc in his talk about the aftermath of the concert of Harlem Apollo) I was just appreciating his sentiment of thinking the others as his family.
Cass Browne on the character of Murdoc in Halleluiah Monkeyz podcast: ...AND THEN YOU’VE GOT MURDOC, WHO’S, HE IS WHAT YOU SEE: HE’S ALL THE ROTTEN BITS OF EVERYTHING, BUT THERE’S REAL HEART IN THERE SOMEWHERE, DOWN IN HIS PANTS BUT IT’S DEFINITELY IN THERE… AND HE’S JUST FULL OF ******* DESIRE, AND HE’S FULL OF NEED AND URGENCY AND JEALOUSY AND RAGE...
and yet:
I know that Murdoc just came out of jail he’s back into the band. Has his time in jail influenced his sound or his outlook on life?
Damon: He’s not redeemable. That’s not in his cartoon DNA. He’s irredeemable, you know. He’s that kind of character, he’s a classic classic cartoon villain.  there’s nothing pure about him whatsoever.[both laugh] He’s rotten!
IN CONCLUSION:
Murdoc is a (very dark) grey character and will remain so. We might observe some glimpses of humanity in him but the writers won’t go as far as fully redeem him. 
i.e. Murdoc does bad stuff as well as good stuff but mostly inexcusable bad stuff (like mentally impair an 18 y/o and physically + mentally abuse him for years to the point of Stockholm syndrome, put a 15 y/o in mortal danger and shrug it off as no big deal, do arson, attempt murder, commit fraud. etc) 
but he definitely isn’t naïve. Intellect and charisma have always been his defining traits and he has learned to use them to his advantage at a very young age thereby gaining immense confidence which basically initiated his consideration to have music as a career  (according to ROTO). None of you can deny the fact that he has always been fully aware of his actions and the consequences that lead to them. Its part of his character. He never wanted to be saved.
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“I knew 2D has a crippling fear of whales - cetaphobia it's called - he can’t stand them. So I installed 2d in the glass-bottomed room in a sub-sea level of Plastic Beach with the whales on patrol. Just for safe keeping... Which is a bit mean. But that is how I roll!”  -Murdoc interview (under a hail of Plastic bullets)
Then there's 2D. Pop trivia dictates he has an irrational fear of whales. But that hasn't stopped Niccals holding him captive in a glass-bottomed boat. Bit cruel, isn't it? "Not 'a bit.' Very. But that's me. I'm an evil sod. I wear black because it's the colour of my soul. My heroes are people like Bill Sykes and Nosterafu.”
Murdoc: Well, funny thing about... er... murder, is that you don't really need a licence to do it. If you're really in the mood to bump someone off, then usually you're not the type to wait around for written permission, know what I mean? That said. Who would I kill? Hmmm. I'm not into people doing shit cover versions of songs I like. That gets to me. And... er... people who write articles on fake health conditions so they can sell you a bunch of pills to 'cure' it. That's pretty sick. And... er... People who use charity situations as some kind of profiteering racket. Y'know after that Tsunami wave a bunch of people were found using it to skim money off donations and stuff. That's kind of disgraceful. On a day-to-day basis though, it's usually just people who get in my way when I'm marching down the street. So take your pick who you think I'd kill. I'm not really that bothered. (phase 2 interview The  Official  Gorillaz  Fansite,  April  2005)
All in all he is still just a cartoon villain and we shouldn't take him seriously because Jamie Hewlett himself says this as: its all a bit of fun, like in a cartoon or a TV show
Russel: I guess every band needs someone with Murdoc's kind of attitude. It looks great on paper but it's not too easy do deal with on a day in day out kind of basis. Also it's a little like complaining about gravity. It can't be changed and it'll just bring you down. Noodle: I think Murdoc is a clown, with his attitude. Very comical! He doesn't see how many elements have to work together in order to make it work. Unfortunately I think his shallow attitude is one of those elements. He only sees himself. But that is why I like him so much as he is a unique and individual character. It is best not to take him too seriously.
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