#orange and her bizarre headcanons

[maideninorange]

Something I occasionally think about is why the spacesuits throughout the Pikmin series are Designed like that (in-universe I mean). Like, what features do a whistle and a glowing antenna like that have as something apparently part of the standard design? So here's my silly headcanon: mainly, they are intended to be safety features.

The antenna? It's meant to be a bright beacon that alerts potential rescuers right to someone in distress, especially when it's somewhere dark like a cave or the dark vacuum of space. It's this latter, probably very common, scenario that would inspire such a design feature. Especially considering how common place space travel is.

And as for the whistle? If the antenna is a distress beacon for the eyes, than the whistle is that for the ears. It's a built-in way to, assuming you are still conscious, let people know where you are. After all, what good will screaming do when you are drifting through space? No one can hear you scream in space...but they can hear a loud, sharp whistle! Also, assuming you are with a group of people, a great way to let them know where you are if you were to get separated during a worst case scenario. Especially since those helmets probably muffle your voice if you're far enough away. It's an easy way to play the hot-cold game of finding a sound's source going in places where such is usually perilous.

It just so happens that these safety features come quite in handy when you get stranded on a planet full of carrot creatures with tall, similarly built stems and respond well to the aforementioned whistle.

[rinsoap]

˚ ༘ ♡⋆｡˚ ﾐ the big seijoh four's status!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : oikawa tooru. iwaizumi hajime. matsukawa issei. hanamaki takahiro.

note : random headcanons lol. it was really fun so i may do this with kuroo, kenma, akaashi, and bokuto if i'm feelin crazy. BTW, THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE LATE TEENS-EARLY TWENTIES SO KEEP THAT IN MIND WHEN READING!

OIKAWA TOORU:

favourite song/artist/album: he's been super obsessed with 360 by charli xcx him n electronic pop are like this 🤞 he loves likes his rnb girlies so of course kali uchis is his favourite he knows all the lyrics to fue mejor and he doesn't even know spanish! the SZA version of course!!! bc his favourite album is ctrl by SZA the superior sza album

favourite movie/show: he likes psychological horror or classic 2000s romcoms so probably midsommar or 10 things i hate about you. look me in the eye and tell me he isn't a gleek. you can't.

favourite colour: dark blue. he thinks he looks the best in it he would be right

favourite subject/grades: math. he's lowkey good at it? his grades are pretty solid but his fatal flaw is that he gets bored easily unless it's something that really interests him or if it's something he's good at.

tattoos (yes/no): NOT REALLY! him and iwaizumi plan on getting matching tattoos. probably a little doodle of something knight related. he doesn't really want a lot of tattoos other than that.

piercings: he wants a nose ring but he's scaredddd omg. for his eighteenth birthday, iwa n mattsun n makki dragged him to the piercing shop to get it pierced bc he would not shut the fuck up about it 😭

celebrity crush: it changes all the time. he's in lovee with pinkpantheress rn. and also christian bale specifically his velvet goldmine premier look..... god he's so fucking fine sorry im projecting

IWAIZUMI HAJIME:

favourite song/artist/album: he's a casual neosoul enjoyer of course he grew up on it the filipinos love their neosoul n jazz so his favourite song since BIRTH has been on & on by erykah badu. it's between that and sometimes. he was GEEKED to know erykah was on a tyler, the creator song bc that is his favouritee artist real ones know he put suna on it's hard for him to name his favourite album that isn't by tyler but if he had to he would choose channel orange by frank ocean.

favourite movie/show: godzilla. nuff said. he's kind of a jojo's bizarre adventure fan. ok he's actually a huge jojo's fan he just likes to LIE and say he's just a "casual" enjoyer.

favourite colour: green or brown.

favourite subject/grades: literature/academia/history. he's really interested in reading but he can't stand writing essays. his grades are good, everyone thinks he's naturally smart but he did pretty awfully in elementary school until he got his act together lol.

tattoos (yes/no): YES kind of. matching tattoos with oikawa of course. i bet he's got a couple precolonial filipino tribal tattoos too lord he's so fine but other than that, i don't think he's a big fan of tattoos unless they're not very visible at first glance.

piercings: he's got a gold nose stud that he got drunk with mattsun one night and he lowkey regrets it until someone compliments him on it then his confidence is through the roof for the rest of the day

celebrity crush: steve lacy..... he doesn't know if he wants him or wants to be him. OH AND CLEO SOL. she is so beautiful and he is obsessed with her energy.

MATSUKAWA ISSEI:

favourite song/artist/album: he's a slut so his favourite song is probably dreams, fairytales, fantasies by A$AP ferg.... don't shoot the messenger! you cannot convince me that he isn't a crazy frank ocean dick rider. "what do y'all know about frank ocean" is his favourite phrase. he's been in his top artist for spotify wrapped since novacane came out. his favourite album is probably WASTELAND by brent faiyaz because yes i still do believe he is a brent stan.

favourite movie/show: all four of them are really into the spiderverse just ask him where he was when the into the spiderverse release date was announced. his favourite show would probablyyyy be death note he wants to fuck ryuk

favourite colour: pink, purple, and probably some obscure shit like amaranth.

favourite subject/grades: any weird extracurricular that doesn't require a lot of academic knowledge like jewlery making or somethin. it's not that he hates school exactlyyyyy, it's that he finds it soo boring. he has never studied for anything in his life but somehow, his grades haven't gone to shit yet, IN FACT, his grades are pretty good like Bs at worst. the whole team hates him for this.

tattoos (yes/no): YES. he had a tattoo phase for a brief period and he BEGGED all his friends to let him practice like he would PAY some of them. he didn't want to practice on himself at first because his pain tolerence is surprisingly low but hanamaki and oikawa pleaded him to stop being such a pussy because they didn't want anymore shaky ignorant tattoos lol. his phase fizzled out for a little bit and people are shocked that he has this skill because he's not a tattoo artist?? it boosts his ego lol

piercings: he's planning on getting a tongue piercing (and bringing hanamaki too so he can get the vertical eyebrow piercing he's been wanting for a while)

celebrity crush: like i said, he's a slut, so he has a handful... brent faiyaz, alexa demie, dominic fike, jhené aiko, summer walker.... and i get him!!

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO:

favourite song/artist/album: this mf will listen to anything tbh but he's a fan of alternative bedroom indie music like wallows, rex orange county, and tame impala, so his favourite song is can i call you tonight? by dayglow. but we all know at his CORE, he is a barb... he loves nicki minaj him and oikawa were SO invested in the nicki/meg beef. speaking of, oikawa put him on so much electronic so now his favourite album is CAPRISONGS by fka twigs.

favourite movie/show: him n mattsun watch superbad RELIGIOUSLY do Not talk to meeeee. he will admit fully with his chest that total drama island is 100% his favourite.

favourite colour: pink obviously. sometimes he says vermillion for literally no other reason other than it sounds fancy. he doesn't even know what it looks like 😭

favourite subject/grades: he does not like school so he doesn't have a favourite subject.... he sits in the back on his phone mostly and copies off of iwaizumi and mattsun. oikawa Refuses to let him copy off him because he is STINGY and iwaizumi only does because hanamaki's grades are kind of abysmal 🙏

tattoos (yes/no): definitely. he has some ignorant patchwork on his upper arm and a couple of his thigh, a product of mattsun's tattoo phase. he likes em a lot but he only ever gets them when intoxicated tbh. he almost got a tramp stamp once but iwaizumi finally talked him out of it after an hour of protest. it was oikawa's idea of course.

piercings: LOOK AT HIS FACE AND THEN LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND THEN TELL ME HE WOULDN'T HAVE A SEPTUM. he's been thinking about getting a vertical eyebrow piercing but he's worried it will heal bad.

celebrity crush: his thoughts that are not about dylan minette are about kali uchis. need i say more.

[inklores]

domestic miguel headcanons that rot my brain <3

⁎⋆ miguel has definitely gone four days without eating once. whether it's a dismissive assertion that he is able to do so with his enhanced dna or is expected to sacrifice niceties as the leader of a sprawling spider society, he won't stop until he's finished his work for the day (or night). no doubt when jess finds out, she programs lyla to send her an alert when miguel misses more than one meal per day so she can personally grab him by the ear and demand he drinks some water.

⁎⋆ he likes stimulating games, when he has the time for it. chess + checkers with lyla as his partner (anybody else would be an easy win in his opinion), but he prefers other games more. newspaper sudoku, jigsaw puzzles, crosswords. anything that requires a bit of mental tinkering and keeps his brain busy.

⁎⋆ wears cozy slippers with his suit when he’s working after seeing how comfy peter b. looks. lyla has pictures.

⁎⋆ he adamantly takes his coffee black. anything lighter and it doesn't keep him roused the way he needs it to. he’s a keurig in a mug type of guy. definitely has a cup that reads “ok but first… coffee” on it.

⁎⋆ his love language is physical touch. miguel is a man of few words. he knows he comes off as uncaring and frigid. always task-oriented. never candid or emotional. his mind knows no bounds but his thoughts always tangle on his tongue. instead, he prefers little gestures. a gentle scrape of his knuckles against a shoulder, a hand on a shoulder, a pat on the back and a rare grunt of approval. i can see him doing that thing where he cups a waist when he has to get by.

⁎⋆ on the rare occasions he gets sick, this man turns into a CHILD. one, he's mad he can't work as efficiently. two, he hates feeling weak and vulnerable. he feels he has to compensate for his lapse in ability and over-works himself to the marrow, forcing lego spider-man to secretly plant an A/V bug in his residential unit that peter b. nicknamed "the baby monitor."

⁎⋆ he likes the soothing security of weighted blankets. after holding the multiverse together, it's nice to be held by something.

⁎⋆ he has chronic migraines and aches as a result of his photosensitivity. hence, some perpetual aggression sinking into his bones. it's why his laboratory is usually dark and his computer monitor displays a warm orange tint to reduce strain.

⁎⋆ he likes reading but doesn't always have time for it. he really likes periodicals and journals that most spider-people would find too boring to read, making him feel more intellectually superior.

⁎⋆ after jess disclosed her pregnancy, miguel began drafting plans for a daycare in hq. no heads-up, no formal dedication, just a casual renovation for a totally unprovoked child-caring facility. sure, it wasn't canonical for spiders to successfully start a family, but if they could... miguel knew firsthand that it had to be protected. for jess and her kid, and yes, peter b. and mayday. though he had a knack for charring some fried nerves, peter b. once inquired about the bizarre construction and upon finding out, he smiled, and never brought it up to miguel.

⁎⋆ he's such a present and absent dad to the younger members of his squad. yeah, he indulges pavitr in some vada pav and chai and weathers a verbose tangent about his latest save or his girlfriend but he also curls his lip at hobie's "screech" (AKA guitar riffs) and mutters about his piercings.

⁎⋆ he's really good at styling girls' hair. nothing too crazy, of course, but out of all the ponytails that swished around on the soccer field, gabriella's was always the most in-tact after a game. one mom even asked miguel if he could tie her daughter's hair similarly. he got so cocky after that.

⁎⋆ he goes to the strength & conditioning gym really early in the morning. like really early. people speculate that he’s nocturnal. but the gym is most likely empty then and miguel prefers that. he also works out to unwind, especially when he’s stressed tf out. and he’s always stressed, hence, big man bod.

⁎⋆ the spiderman 2099 burger was a birthday gag gift from peter b. but miguel secretly liked it so much, that it was no secret it stayed on the commissary menu.

⁎⋆ the first time his fangs extended after the spider gene splicing accident, he cut through his gum and lip and has a small scar there now.

⁎⋆ college age!miguel was so arrogant. girls thought it was charming but he was really, genuinely smart and had a job at alchemax already lined up before he graduated. he was probably popular. cocky, sarcastic, daddy-issues latino man with a big brain and big everything, c’mon.

⁎⋆ he snores really loud. he has those “dad sneezes” that sound like the whole house is coming down. with all those enhanced-hearing spiders, there have been rumors of a loose feral animal when miguel takes a nap or has allergies.

⁎⋆ when he’s not stressed and angry, miguel is tired and nerdy. he has a whole degree in genetics and worked as the head scientist at alchemax, i KNOW he is just as much of a dork as the other spiders.

⁎⋆ peter b. made fun of his airfoil cape once. “spider-man doesn’t wear a cape!” miguel still doesn’t forgive him and he def won’t forget it.

© danysclouds. — all rights reserved, writing belongs to gena.

[okayto]

Kishu for the impression ask game?

[ask game link]

Okay! This is based on the manga and OG anime, because I haven't gotten to watch Tokyo Mew Mew New yet, so any new worldbuilding/details from TMMN are ignored.

First impression Ears. EARS. (Second impression: wtf are those sleeves. How does this shirt work. Why are there long ribbons.) So, basically all visual.

Impression now

He's just a funny terrible guy. Like, I want to punch him. He deserves it. But he is gleefully terrible and I also want to take one of those helpful hand grabber-claw things and pull on his ridiculously-oversized ears (I noticed that the new series makes the ears more sensible; some points of the manga and OG series had them absolutely ginormous).

He's also like, 13. So he's terrible but also in that lacking-adult-supervision way that makes you worry. Where are Alien Child Protective Services.

Favorite moment

Okay, I know this is really more Zakuro, but...

Look at the way he scrabbles for the portal!

Idea for a story

Basically, see my headcanon down there at the end? That thing. I'm probably never going to write it.

Unpopular opinion

These days? Not sure. In Ye Olden Fandom days, it was definitely not popular to ship Ichigo with her canonical love interest, Masaya, rather than Ryou or our spicy alien here.

Favorite relationship

I am pretty sure I hold the distinction of being the world's only Kisshu x Kanna Saionji shipper. Kanna is an anime-only character from episode 32, is a spoiled rich girl who considers Minto her rival, and I think that once he learns to be less of an assaulting asshole, they would be obnoxiously delightful together. Also, her dominant color is orange hair, and orange and green look nice together.

Favorite headcanon

Kisshu and co are part of a cult.

No, listen. It's a cult that has some power to it, since Deep Blue gets himself incarnated on earth and is actually a threat, but "three guys and their semiconscious boss" are not an invading force. I could kill more people by dropping a medium-sized rock off Tokyo Tower; these nerds can fly and create giant monsters and as far as I can tell, never managed to kill a single person during their genocide attempt. Even if you argue they were basically just killing time until Deep Blue woke up, that was a terrible plan to give their human opponents time to study them and get stronger.

Their small numbers and general lack of plan (and bizarre decision to start their invasion in a highly-populated modern city rather than setting up a base in a less-populated area where they could have straightened out any problems and let Deep Blue awaken without interference) make more sense if you consider all them them zealots on the fringes of their society. Disaffected young men living in a not-great place, vulnerable to the idea of doing something meaningful and active that makes them feel powerful.

Their people left earth three million years ago; for most of the population the concept of former planetary home they could retake is likely a myth, though I wouldn't be surprised if there were others looking for other places to live, or to terraform their current planet. (For reference: humans have been around far less than one million years; homo sapiens evolved around 300,000 years ago and our oldest myths are still less than 50,000 years old.) Our guys definitely found/uncovered/rediscovered something because their attempt has power behind it (and their spaceship, and whatever the alien dimension is), but in no way do they seem like the chosen heroes of an entire race.

[epiceneandroid]

some self indulgent orientation headcanons for aki from street fighter! on the first three icons we have partnering anattractional, and on the last three icons we have uranic oriented aroace, both flags being by @isobug! aki is such a neat character and she's very unique for both a female character and a street fighter character, let alone a villain, and i love how bizarre and creepy she is while still having a sense of blue and orange morality.

[image description: six icons of aki from street fighter with the partnering anattractional and uranic oriented aroace flags. she is a chinese, pale skinned assassin with white hair, a black snakeskin qipao with a gray mesh shirt under it, black snakeskin leggings, and long fingernails with decorations on them. in the first pictures in each photoset, she is posing stoically next to some red spider lilies. in the next pictures, she is smiling maniacally. in the last pictures, she is grinning and producing poison from her fingertips. end image description]

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

Elizabeth Corday and Romano for the send character post

Elizabeth:

Why I like them: arrogant and has good reason to be. wildly self-destructive in response to emotional turmoil. so bad at so many things but absolutely confidently doing them anyway. total weirdo who, and I quote, thinks "being 'cool' seems somewhat limiting." desperately trying to be Good but she's also capable of such vicious pettiness and unkindness. when she does the big sad eyes I would throw myself into the sea if she asked it of me.

Why I don’t: s10 my nemesis until the end of time

Favorite episode (scene if movie): EXODUS ft. Sooty Elizabeth, a favorite blind box variant (gestures to my icon)

Favorite season/movie: I have to say s6. Dean Rollins arc my most dearly beloved

Favorite line: her goodbye spiel to Rollins is just banger after banger... but especially I held your every breath in my hands. like!!!!

Favorite outfit: whenever she wears sweaters!! the blue turtleneck especially is so underrated.

OTP: ot3 reigns forever :')

Brotp: canonically, Cordano. noncanonically, Susan should have stayed specifically so they could be chaotic bi friends.

Headcanon: she wants to be the kind of person who starts decorating for holidays super early but she always is like "tomorrow!!" and then it's like The Day Before Thanksgiving and she's hurling fistfuls of orange streamers over the banister like WHY DID NOBODY MAKE ME DO THIS SOONER

Unpopular opinion: That Woman Was Never Supposed To Be A Mother: a 25 page essay by Mouse

A wish: more sweaters!! less emotional self-harm!!! also she should kiss me.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: what else could you possibly do to me that s10 didn't already. I mean.

5 words to best describe them: the. love. of. my. life.

Romano:

Why I like them: he has made himself a performance. he has made himself a villain. he is soooo fake and he is soooo horrible and he's my special little guy and I need to fistfight him in the parking lot. he says things and then is just like :) as though he hasn't just vocalized a sentence no human being would ever say under normal circumstances. he is like a chew toy to me and well I am tearing him to shreds

Why I don’t: lol have you seen him. I said meet me in the PARKING LOT, ROBERT

Favorite episode (scene if movie): hmmmmm this is a TOUGH ONE. Power is one of my all-time favorites anyway but he's really good in it especially so let's go with that one

Favorite season/movie: s5&6 again. it's where I LIVE

Favorite line: "DO YOU DREAM OF LIZZIE CORDAY??"

Favorite outfit: I am legally obligated to say the speedo unfortunately

OTP: please.

Brotp: Cordano... Peter... Rogreene... Gretel...

Headcanon: I read him as ace so whenever he pulls a "haha I thought we were talking about sex :)" at an utterly bizarre moment, in my heart he's like "Mission Complete: I Have Successfully Passed As A Normal Heterosexual Man!"

Unpopular opinion: I feel like an insane person but he is so obviously a constructed persona most of the time. like. a person with power over others is not going to be well-liked by everybody so he just decided he's not going to be well-liked by ANYBODY. also if you tell him to stop... he stops. he respects people who have a spine.

A wish: no, little bald boy, don't go onto the roof

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: backstory lol I like him being such a blank slate and so fan attempts at giving him some kind of tragic past are always so funny to me like. he's just a massive dick it's okay he doesn't need a sad reason for it

5 words to best describe them: idiot garbage bag with heart.

[dennisprager]

fuck it we ball

heres a gravity falls fanfic

i actually write a lot of things, but never share them. a lot are just unfinished projects, but a lot are also fanfics. i can't post them because theyre entrenched in layers of headcanons and disregard of the source material that makes them unreadably confusing unless i censor the names to make a clean slate for the context. theyre also often otherwise bizarre, offensive and deeply personal because i only write them for myself.

this is the first thing i've written thats clean enough and close enough to the source material that i can actually post it. theres a few differences but you'll figure those out. also you don't have to have watched the show to enjoy it.

-------------------------------------

"Aaaaand... a New Yorker." she spoke into the house phone, twiddling and curling a strand of her autumn hair like it was the cord.

"With stuffed crust." Dipper whispered, with a tug at her green tartan pyjama bottoms.

"With stuffed crust." she smiled.

Some crusty, crackling, deep and high-passed voice came through the speaker, which was just as incomprehensible as the squeaking in cartoons, though a vague monotone lethargy and world-weariness in speech crossed the interference.

"Yeah, mozzarella." she confirmed, fixing her hair to look down at a sticky note and tapping a ballpoint.

Wendy went on with the order, leaning on the kitchen counter in a typically cool way, eyes switching from the note to the night-black view outside. Dipper, secure now that the crust had been stuffed, slipped on some too-large slippers and padded out through a rusted fly-screened door into the backyard.

There was a certain buzz in the smokey summer night air; that fresh country air that hadn't greeted him in a year. Most would call it 'the flies'. But him, and his older friend, certainly felt it.

To him, the feeling of a warm, familiar place, galaxies away from science projects, Gamecube curfews and beating white Burbank heat. A place and a person where he could shoot the shit with when he usually had to shoot the poop, and the gun had to have a little plastic red tip on the end. And would get confiscated anyway.

Yet the same place was elusive, like the memory of an earlier childhood vacation. On the pitch-black night, in it's valley below, the stars of distant street lights cutting through the redwoods was a sight usually too good to be true; the warm wind brushing his hair and wetting his eyes too long ago to be felt. In his previous, and first, stay in Oregon, by the time it was over and he had to leave, it felt like a Monday alarm ending a sweet dream.

Yet here he was. For six whole weeks, with no want to waste even a moment of them this time. He grinned, and paced the trodden grass of the yard.

And right now, for this night and at least several others, it just was him and Wendy. Even his sister was back at the cabin, whom he obviously and dearly enjoyed the company of in a different way, but he wasn't in a rush to meet the clique she'd made last year and had been foaming at her mouth to talk to in-person again. They were off having their own sleepover, doing 'girl' sleepover things like tittering and painting nails and going to bed at reasonable hours. Their sleepover would be way cooler. They were gonna watch peak cinema and drink roo' beers. Cos they were dudes.

Or at least he was. Or at least would be, in two years, if you count teenagehood as the threshold for dudedom. Mere technicalities, he thought.

Only a few paces later, the excitement had him jogging laps, jogging into the darkness and crickets of the open yard's far-end, revealing more of the twinkling town lining the forms of the sheer cliffs, then slinging around a stump back towards the orange glow of the oval moth-gathered wall-lamp and the silhouetted window of the log house.

Starting with middle school he'd been increasingly more conscious about 'kid' things like breaking into running randomly, but he didn't care around Wendy. Seventeen was too old to be jeering at someone having fun like a snotty 9th grader would, and regardless of age, that was neither her nature, nor the nature of their kinda-friend-kinda-bigsister-kinda-carer relationship. She always just went with the flow and let him be him, joining in with whatever eleven year old fancies he or his sister were taken by.

She was watching him and smiling, leaning on the door frame with one arm crossed, the other tentatively swigging a skunked heineken. Her height and a summer-job clerk that didn't know her got her past IDs, though with this bottle she was wishing she'd just cracked a can of pepsi instead.

Dipper came to the end of a lap and was in her earshot.

"You yoinked my slippers, ya scoundrel."

He slowed, then started walking to the door.

"Oh, they're yours?" as if he couldn't tell by them almost falling off with each step, and as if she wasn't joking and minded.

"Yeah, so hands off."

"I wouldn't wear em on my hands, that'd be gross."

She huffed amused.

The tall girl stepped aside to let him through the door, and ruffled his hair as he passed. The wide wind and crickets softened to a muffle after the door shut, leaving only a fluorescent hum. They took a seat on two stools, made of the same saturated wood as the entire room barring the dark floor tiles.

"Thirty minutes for the food. You got cash, right, dip?"

"Wait, what? No?"

She gave a long, dramatic gasp.

"No pizza, then." she glumly accepted, slouching a cheek onto her loose white sleeves.

"...you're such a liar." he giggled.

She flicked 'maybe' with her eyes and a growing grin.

"Wanna uhh... go pick the movie while we're waiting?" she asked with a smile as dorkish and eager as his glowing through the mellow teenage exterior.

His two nods practically shook the stool.

"Then coooom'on." standing up with a lean and waving a hand to follow.

She clicked the kitchen light off before they passed through the frame into the sparsely decorated hall.

On the left of the hall, she turned the handle of a heavy oak door, leading into a cooler, unlit room. Light from the hall teased a slice of it's form, until the heavy door shut.

For a moment there was black.

A click, and a tacky white lightbulb flooded the silent room with crisp, specular clarity and colour.

Before them over a wood railing, beneath them by four shallow steps; the TV room, which for all intents and purposes was hers. A wide, top of the line (for 1996) Sony Trinitron and VCR atop a stand lay centre in the far end, flanked by two bookshelves crammed with a part-timer funded tape collection that was no Victorville Archive but was nothing to scoff at either. A red shaggy rug divided the TV from the puffy leather sofa (WITH A PULLOUT BED!) cornered by the steps, thats back had a plaid blanket laid over like a 'murican antimacassar, and several more making fluffy heaps by the armrests.

The room had a certain smell and feeling to the air that only a visitor would notice, and with the blackout curtains closed, felt like a little pocket dimension of take-out and tapes. If not for the inviting carmine carpet, it might have felt like a mancave.

The wood of the four steps made anechoic creaks as they descended and turned the corner, taking them to the left of the sofa.

Wendy knelt down in front of the TV with a grunt.

"Can I do it?" Dipper asked, kneeling beside.

"Hm? Oh, sure."

She shuffled over and instead started perusing for stuff to watch.

Yellow for video slid into the socket with a thump then a click, then red for right channel, then white for left channel, and power.

'VIDEO' filled near a quarter of the screen as a commendation.

He was old enough to know rationally that it required about as much expertise as a fisher-price puzzle, but felt like a technician regardless. The subtle hum of the screen broke the chill of the silence.

"Alrighty..." she sighed blissfully, taking a cross-legged seat with the neck of the bottle in one hand.

"What are we thinkin, lil dude?"

He swayed in thought. A select few tapes on the TV stand caught his attention.

"What are these?"

"Those are..." grunting while scooting her butt across. "My favourites."

"The cream de le cream, as the french say." quietly, close to his shoulder.

"Is Pink Floyd french?" he asked, holding a creased sleeve depicting a screaming man he assumed was the eponymous 'Watl', whatever that was.

"No-ho-ho, he's, uh." laughing. "He's from easter island, I think." dryly, taking a sip.

It looked like kind of a horror movie.

"Is it any good?"

"Oh, it's amazing." she breathed, leaning back. "It's basically a musical of one the best albums, Ever." pinching for emphasis.

Dippers eyes grew wider with anticipation. He knew her well enough and had seen her bash enough snares that he knew it wasn't gonna be the Mary Poppins kind.

"But, uh." she scratched her neck. "It's not like a movie night kinda movie, if you know what I mean." splaying a hand towards him, then dropping it on her knee.

"Oh." He knew that, too. It either meant some weird artsy thing or 'horror' in the kind of way that wasn't fun.

"Well, what about this one?"

The boxes clacked as he put one back and took out another. He held up 'Full Metal Jacket', which wasn't much better.

"Mmmm..." she considered. "Still kind of a downer. You'd like the first half, but I think, uh, after that you wouldn't care."

"But it's like a war movie? Those are fun, right?"

She snickered. "Yeah. About Vietnam, you dork; it ain't Rambo. That shit was definitely not fun."

"Why, were you there?" wryly.

A gleam of mischief flashed in the corner of her mouth.

"Uhhh. Ya." like it was obvious.

"Wait, really?"

She squinted and started in a gruff, chiselled voice. "Oh yeah. Musta mowed down a hundred * in that platoon...", taking a deep and hard swig that she privately regretted once the aftertaste kicked.

"Shhhhudddup!" he laughed, as much at himself for even humouring the possibility for half a second.

She chuckled and set the drink down, but suddenly her eyes shot open and she looked flustered. "Oh, don't repeat that!" hurriedly, reaching out a hand and covering her mouth with the other. "Don't repeat that, that's not a word you can use!" rushing the words out and starting to chortle. "That-that's the beer talking. You'll get in BIG trouble if you say that."

"Yeah, I know."

Her eyebrows flicked in surprise for a moment as if asking 'how!?'.

"Well- I mean, I didn't know. But I don't repeat stuff you say, I mean."

"Ohh, right." she settled with a last giggle.

She swallowed. "Anyway." raising her hands with closed eyes. "I don't think that ones a good choice."

Dipper clicked his tongue in thought.

"Got any good spooky stuff?"

"Oh, dude, do I."

She stood up, and walked over to the shelves on the right. She looked back with a smirk and raised a finger saying 'observe' this shit that's about to blow your mind. The boy shuffled and crossed his arms with a smile awaiting the goods.

The shelf had a larger slot at the bottom that could fit various boxes, some of cardboard, and this one of plastic, labelled with scratched paper and pen marker declaring 'HORROR'.

He bit his lip envisioning the kind of messed up things that must be in there; the sorts of revolting scenes an erudite of the genre six years older than him wouldn't flinch at.

The box simply slid out when she grabbed it by the lip, but somehow it felt like she'd gone down a dark passage and blew dust off it with an oil lantern in one hand and a cursed, ornate key in the other.

He kept wondering. Serial killers, flaying, butthole stuff, genocide, torture, probably poop involved somewhere. All kinds of crazy shenanigans.

She knelt, and slapped the lid of the box with both hands, before sliding it off to reveal the contents. Which would have been a little more theatrical if the box wasn't translucent.

He gazed into the pit of tapes.

"Pick yer poison, dipperoni." steepling, with an ominous voice.

'Halloween', 'IT', 'The Return of the Living Dead', 'Hostel', she hissed and snatched at the CD.

"Exceptthatone!"

She really, really, really needed to sort the 'funny monster gibs 80's teenagers' movies from the 'people actually getting tortured' movies.

Wendy noticed Dipper look a little less sure about watching a horror movie.

"Uhh, just... just pick any. And I'll let you know if it's okay. Mmkay?"

He nodded and continued looking.

"I wouldn't let you watch anything that'd make you, like, upset. Don't worry."

"I know..." he whispered warmly.

She pinched his cheek.

Several cases toppled and clacked the plastic as he pulled one out. "This one looks... interesting."

'CRITTERS II: THE MAIN COURSE'

"Oh, that movie fuckin' rocks." she laughed. "It sucks, but it fuckin' rocks."

"Heh heh~ What's it about?"

"It's like dollar store Gremlins."

The corny ass Dreamworks face of the monster on the cover seemed to infect him more with a breathy laughter by the second.

"I-hi-hi, I think I'll pass on dollar store Gremlins."

"Hm hm, oo-kay."

Wendy had taken to flipping through some of the covers herself; it had been a while. She huffed a single laugh thinking about Christopher Lee in Howling II, hummed fondly thinking of the first time watching Little Shop of Horrors as a girl, and remembered snatching Maniac Cop 2 on discount as soon as she saw it in Blockbusters just so she could rip 'Children of the Night', which she just now noticed herself singing under her breath unbidden, then soon after 'Alone in the Night' by Leatherwolf and 'Darkest Side of the Night' by Metropolis and a few other 'the Night's.

"This summer... the ball is back" Dipper giggled, reading the tagline of Phantasm II. "What's this one?" holding it up.

"That's dollar store Evil Dead."

"Huh? Never heard of that."

"D-" she jolted.

"Dude."

For a second she thought it inconceivable that an eleven year old wouldn't know an almost two decade old movie.

"That's the one. That's what we're watching, Evil Dead II." immediately rooting for it then holding it up, rapping the side of the case with a bit lip like 'this is the shit right here'. The only reason it wasn't on her 'favourites' shelf was because it wasn't as rewatchable as films with more substance.

"Is it like, 'scary' scary?" with mild trepidation, his eyes following as she moved to the stand.

"It's, umm..." fixing her hair and looking up to think "not ''scary' scary' scary, but it might be scary for a kid. Don't worry, though, it's a blast. You'll love it." raising a finger to reassure while Dipper tried to figure out the nested 'scary's.

"Mmmmm... okay." he agreed enthusiastically.

She slapped it on top of the VCR. Dipper had no frame of reference, so trusted her taste and better judgement, with a simmering excitement to find out what it was.

"I'm gonna go get a drink." she sighed as she stood. "This tastes like dick and ass." half-muttered, wiggling the quarter empty bottle.

"Alright." he said while crashing on the sofa.

She made to the steps, then looked back. "Want anything?"

He'd downed a pepsi just an hour before when they came back from the town. "Not yet, thanks."

"Mkay." continuing up.

For a moment. she looked at him nestled by the armrest again. She moved over the railing and hummed lovingly. Dipper looked up to her leaning over.

"You get nice n' cosy." quietly, reaching down to pull a blanket over. "I'll go fetch yer teddies, too." booping his nose with a dimpled smile.

His backpack in the kitchen had a notebook, a pencil, a few cans, a copy of 'Passport to Magonia', and a selection of his plushies. If anyone else had (correctly) assumed he wanted them, he would have gone on masculinity red alert, but here he only returned the smile.

The light went off, with the hall door left open, leaving the well-loved beige bouclé that enveloped him lit softly blue by the static hearth. They'd lie down and just talk in the quiet for a good half-hour before the food came, or maybe see whatever shitty network sitcom was on at this hour while they waited. He sighed dreamily.

[naivesilver]

actually the ask meme was just an excuse. mods are asleep post increasingly more nonsensical thousand problems headcanons

fabian loves pinocchio. he's literally obsessed with the guy. representation for all us youngest children who were the darlings of their older siblings' friends and got spoiled rotten by the latter. if there's a movie night fabian WILL cuddle up to pinocchio and he WILL provide deep pressure+demand attention and plot explanations

fabian is also one of the few people pierrot trusts with handling tortilla. eugene is not. eugene handles the disparity as well as you can imagine

if there hadn't been a dark curse, igor and sylvester would have probably made their way to agrabah eventually. may or may not have reunited with some of igor's relatives too, giving twinkle some bizarre amalgamation of family members

a local "wish realm" situation would therefore feature adult twinkle living her best life in a sunny climate. better conditions than the rest of her friends at that age, to be sure

olympia is a kpop stan (red flag). coppelia had a big anime phase that may or may not be still lingering (flag veering towards a dark orange)

mignon and pinocchio would likely share a good chunk of their music tastes if they could gather the willpower to show them to the world. they would probably both like ethel cain too

the boys are the kind of boys who will literally always have "feminine" stuff on their person at all times, for their friends' sake. especially pinocchio, who has a backpack permanently stuffed to a wilderness survival level. you ask if anyone's got a scrunchie or a sanitary pad and there are three hands giving you what you need within 0.2 seconds

taking stuff behind people's back is a big no-no in most cases, because of their troubled history. it is, however, approved (and also encouraged) to try and hand the others random shit while they're distracted to see how long it takes for them to notice. pierrot receives candy wrappers and pens halfway through most conversations he has with anyone

they mostly refer to the others' parents or assorted relatives by their fairy tale names, very politely. notable exceptions are leroy, because no one ever addresses leroy formally, and marco when pierrot is speaking. "dad" is still being workshopped for both of them. they'll get there at some point.

[paranormalpainter]

Noel Desertjewel Headcanons:

Not much is known about her personality since she has a constant poker face and dead tone of voice when she speaks, but if you ask about her from her family, they’ll say that despite her demeanor, she does have a bit of a caring side to her, but whatever you do… don’t make her angry because you will end up regretting it

Her unique magic is called “Soul Thief” It allows her to take a target’s soul out of their body, but don’t worry, the target isn’t completely dead, but rather in an unconscious state once Noel extracts the soul. Once extracted, it can’t leave Noel's side until she decides to return them to their body or if it’s a soul searching for a new host, they are either banished to the nether world, or moved on to the afterlife. The only time she uses this spell is during exorcisms, but on rare occasions, she’ll use her unique magic on a living person that isn’t possessed. Once the soul returns to their body, they won’t remember their soul being extracted by her

She has 6 family members who are also attending DCA, Evelyn her twin sister who’s living in Glastanzerin, Sapphire her older sister who’s living in Dragonstone, Prism her cousin living in the same dorm as her twin, Ruby her cousin who’s a living gem living in the same dorm as Sapphire, Emerald her cousin who’s also a living gem living in Magiaoasis, Amethyst her cousin who’s also a living gem living in the same dorm as her twin, and Pearl her cousin who’s a living gem living in Coquille

Her and Evelynn are nicknamed “The Sun and The Moon” due to the twins differences in personality and interests

She also has 2 brothers attending NRC, Dillion her older brother who’s a 3rd year living in Octavinelle and Austin her brother who’s a couple months older than her and twin who’s a 1st year living in Heartslabyul

After her, Evelyn, and Austin started attending their assigned magic schools, the family decided that it would be a good idea for her little sister, Opal to stop by and visit sometimes to spend some quality time with her siblings, however, upon hearing the news, they all agreed that Opal should only go into Futterwacken to visit rather than spend the night due to the chaotic environment of the dorm since all the doors there could end up making her little sister get lost once watchful eyes are off her

She doesn’t talk much and often has a habit of unintentionally scaring those around her if she does due to how quiet she normally is. The only other time she will talk aside from the unintentional jumpscares are when she snaps which is very rare and only takes a special kind of person to push her over the edge

Her pets are 5 tarantulas she named “Neon” who’s a Blue Brazilian Dwarf Beauty Tarantula, “Rosy” a Antilles Pinktoe Tarantula, “Midnight” a Peacock Tarantula, “Tangerine” an Orange Baboon Tarantula, and “Zebra” an Indian Ornamental Tarantula along with a black cat named “Moonlight”, a friesian horse named “Shadow”, a venus flytrap named “Chompy” and a severed griffon claw named “Blade” she found in the mystery shop. Her tarantulas have mini headbands on them with a jewel that protects them from getting stepped on

She used to have 6 tarantulas, but unfortunately her Greenbottle Blue tarantula, Cyanide, was removed from her shoulder during an evening walk by 2 guys that decided to gang up on her. She tried to get him back, but one of the guys restrained her while she’s struggling while the other dropped Cyanide to the ground and stomped on it. She has a carved wooden box where Cyanides remains are and would often pay her respects to him along with her 5 surviving tarantula’s

Despite being a student in the Futterwacken dorm, she dislikes living there due to all the chaos running about the dorm along with some of the students having weird or bizarre behavior which has led her to either spend her time in the school library, in one of her other family members dorms, or helping out Sam at the Mystery shop at NRC to clear her mind from the chaos

Sometimes after she helps Sam at his shop, he would ask her to be her delivery girl and give some goods he has reserved for MG Genie while she makes her way back to DCA’s campus

The only thing she likes about Futterwacken is that she can wear a completely black uniform with certain colors being accents unlike the other dorms since she’s not a fan of wearing colors unless the color is a darker shade or completely black

She carries 2 pocket watches on her, the one placed on her collar is the one that’s issued to Futterwacken students in place of rings while the one placed on the skirt of her dress is one that alerts her when someone’s possessed by a malevolent spirit or entity{And no, it doesn’t alert her if there’s an overblot}

She joined Gardening Research club to mostly research how to take care of other carnivorous plants that way Chompy can have a friend one day

She has 3 claw like scratch marks across her back from when she was little and she protected her father from an evil entity that wanted to possess him

Despite having a strong dislike towards bright colors, she’s kinda learned to tolerate them due to some of her family having favored them, but on occasion if there’s to many bright colors, she would often retreat to her room or confined space to recover

On her side of the room rather than a regular bed, she has a coffin bed for her to use in case she needs a break from the chaos in Futterwacken

Despite just joining the academy, she's already a jack of all trades at every subject

Her first performance song would be “Mischievous of Alice” by Yousei Teikoku: https://youtu.be/uh-DcgktZvU?si=1V4cu7dXhmFIySiP

Diamond Crown Academy(C) @phoenix-manga

Noel Desertjewel(C) Me

[angelsarewatching]

*coughs* because i am mentally ill and unstable to make headcanons my wife was kind enough to give me Her krueger headcanons because this man is Not alright in the head. at All. and sometimes it's hard for writers to get in his head because he's just soososososo fucked up he's so fucked up (im completely normal about him i prommy)

anyways ok so. krueger!!!!

-he's super super indecisive. extremely. he's so Good at decision making in the field bc natural leader or some shit but when it comes to the smallest shit ever like should he get water or orange juice he overthinks it and then suddenly just gets grape juice. like

-golem golem golem his friend golem 🥺🥺 (they're Not friends)

-manipulative. very. knows what he wants. gets what he wants (through changing himself to achieve his goals) embodiment of gaslight gatekeep girlboss

-lies. so much. a lot. too much that sometimes he forgets what's actually true. has fabricated backstories and personalities. he uses Personality A to gain friends. is charismatic. then he uses Backstory C: Suburban life, raised in Germany, had a decent life, ex-girlfriend cheated on him, and that's how he's in the pub right now.

-so good at lying though. because no one ever bothers to check.

-makes new friends. listens to the drama. then causes drama. spectates for a while for amusement then disappears. repeat

-not Ok in the head. but we already know that.

-actually a convicted murderer.

-literally everything he does is for amusement OR part of a very intricate plan he made to get something he wants or both.

-plays 4D chess with people. for fun. bizarre, intricate, and complicated calculations in his mind. like "if i ask X for Xyz, i won't get it, but if i ask A who is close with B, and get on their good side, then B will notice, because B hangs out with A a lot, and who is closer with X than A, and-"

-somehow knows how to read people. Scarily good at reading people. obsessed with learning how people tick. and human psychology. and human behavior. a walking fucked up lovechild of sherlock and dr jekyll

-can't process his emotions well. he knows what emotions are. knows the emotions that other people experience just by looking at them. but when it comes to His emotions. he's kinda stuck. the familiar ebb of arousal and the thrill of excitement and danger is nothing new to him, but feeling actual sadness is replaced with hollowness and numbness(?) that doesn't last very long.

-does not know how to grieve for people. understands what sadness is and what it does to people but cannot experience it for himself. he doesn't know why people just.. move on when people die.

-in his line of work, he's seen his comrades die, of course. but he doesn't understand why their families mourn. he was never really close with anyone, not even his parents or siblings if he had any--so he's generally confused why when someone is "close" with someone-they're upset when they die or disappear. can't they just find someone else?

-something REALLY fucked up his childhood psyche for him to come out as a scarily smart person that understands what certain emotions do to influence people's behaviors but doesn't actually feel them himself. his parents or the environment he was in as a kid is probably to blame.

-from the start i think Sebastian was ok. he was normal. but his family did not so normal things. his "normal" is what other sane and mentally stable people would call "terrible" and "horrifying".

-calculating. cunning. calm. uses other people's feeling and emotions against them or for his own benefit. he does it like second nature. he didn't know what it was when he was younger, but it just came to him naturally. manipulating people. lying. faking feeling emotions like "sympathy" when hard times struck. even though he doesn't actually Feel those things.

-backstabbing. a cheat. a traitor. a dangerous man.

[maideninorange]

Whose your favorite of the Koppaites (Alph, Brittany, and Charlie)? What do you think they do after the game's story is over? Alternatively/additionally, do you think Louie's familiar with Olimar's family at all? I like to imagine he babysitted Olimar's kids once or twice.

Hm...I'd probably say Brittany for this one. All of them are very funny, but I find her absolutely hilarious. Her greed never fails to crack me up lol.

As for Louie...I imagine that he'd probably at the very least be familiar with them from how much Olimar likes to talk about them lol. Though for me, I like to think Olimar occasionally invites Louie over for special occasions like birthdays and certain holidays. So he's definitely met them!

[t4tmoreid]

gimme your favorite cm headcanons

i will celebrate you posting again like a kpop comeback

omg hiiii hehe ok honestly it's been a hot minute since i've thought about cm hcs but:

spencer is a cat dad to the most evil little asshole in the world <3 he's got this white and orange cat that he adopted when he was working on his first PhD cause he thought the company would be nice, and he named it something that's frankly stupid and annoying like Proton or Sagan or something, and this cat is like, objectively a little shit. like, he claws up the furniture, hides under the sofa to swat at spencer's feet when he walks by, pushes his glasses of the counter, eats pages out of any books spencer leaves around, etc etc. and spencer loves him dearly but he is just beefing with this little cat CONSTANTLY. like he's always showing up to work with scratches on his hands and arms, dramatically monologuing and whining about how this little shit has it out for him specifically and how he's quite literally the devil himself in cat form. but then the second someone else chimes in and is like "yeah your cat is kind of an asshole man" spencer's just like i'm sorry what did you say to me. watch your mouth dude that's my fucking cat and i love him more than anything. fuck you.

speaking of cats, hotch is like, a cat magnet for a reason none of them can quite grasp. like he's really more of a dog person, never been that much of a cat lover if he's being honest, but any time he's over at spencer's or emily's their cats just will not leave him alone. and because the universe has a sense of humour, hotch is pretty much the only person who spencer's cat will cuddle with. like the first time spencer has the team over to his place, he's barely gotten the words out to warn them to be careful around his little demon spawn before he turns around to see his cat up in hotch's lap, purring obnoxiously looking for pets. traitor.

derek teases spencer mercilessly for his nerdy glasses, but he literally has reading glasses himself, he's just so far into it at this point that he'd rather die than admit it. he gives himself headaches constantly because he refuses to wear them and give spencer the satisfaction.

emily and derek get like, really extremely competitive over video games. you'd think it would be penny cause she's really the gamer among them, but when mario kart or just dance comes out derek and emily become people that they're honestly not proud of. and like the trash talk that comes out is quite frankly bizarre, so penelope prefers to just sit back with her wine and watch them bicker and sabotage one another like bratty siblings.

derek is always making mixtapes for spencer <3 i know i have a post about this somewhere, but like at least once a week derek is carefully curating a new collection of songs to burn onto a cd that he says spencer just has to listen to - because you're so uncultured about music it's honestly unacceptable spence - it's not at all because he has a stupid little crush that he can't quite seem to kick and he has no idea how the hell he's supposed to approach that when it's his stupid, awkward, gangly, endlessly endearing close friend doctor reid, and music is like the one thing he can fall back on as a way to get his feelings out so he doesn't, like, explode.

can i say homophobic jj. LOL like will people get mad at me if i say that. anyway jj is the girl who brags about having gay friends and tags along to the gay bar with penny emily spencer and derek cause she doesn't want to be left out and then gets grossed out when a woman tries to flirt with her SORRY ok i'm sorry. god.

whenever things are especially busy at the unit (or worse than usual at home) hotch tends to stays really late. penelope knows this, and she also knows that when hotch holes away in his office pouring over paperwork for hours and hours after everyone else has long since gone home, he very rarely takes the time to remember to get something to eat. so penelope has taken to bringing in an extra serving of whatever she takes for lunch, whether it's an extra sandwich or a second tupperware container of leftover pasta, and before she heads home she always comes up with some excuse to give it to hotch. she tells him she went out to lunch with derek so she didn't end up needing it, or she was half asleep this morning when she'd packed it and she'd made a second sandwich without thinking, and honestly hotch you might as well take it cause if you don't it's just gonna go in the garbage anyway and it's not good to waste food, hotch, there are people who are starving. and he always concedes, eventually, and accepts her food. she always looks so pleased with herself, like she's pulled the wool over his eyes, and hotch's throat kinda feels tight with the knowledge that someone cares enough to make sure he eats when he stays late, and also penelope is like a really good cook, so there's that, too.

when spencer has his hair grown out longer he lets penelope use him as a model to teach derek how to braid. derek has tried to braid penelope's hair before, with little success, and it's so much easier to show him on somebody else, but no matter how much she'd begged emily had refused to give in, so spencer it was. and honestly spencer thinks it's kinda nice, the feeling of somebody's fingers playing with his hair. especially when they're penelopes fingers, which move gently and lightly and don't pull too hard, and he comes out of it with a pretty french braid that has pieces falling out in the front because if they're being totally honestly his hair isn't quite long enough for this yet. derek is sort of less gentle when it's his turn to try, more prone to accidentally pulling so hard it makes spencer's whole fucking scalp tingle, but it's still nice to be sitting cross legged on the floor between derek's knees with derek's hands in his hair, so spencer only complains a little bit.

penelope keeps one of those "word of the day" tearaway calendars on her desk, and every so often she throws some word like "mellifluous" into conversation out of nowhere and everybody is just like 😐

[theepisceswriter]

REQUESTS & RULES

Hello, this is a fairly new blog and when I say brand new I mean brand brand new! After getting fed up with the lack of love for underrated characters, lack of representation for POC!readers, and the lack of love for my non-binary/female 2D crushes, I decided to make an anime blog of my own dedicated solely for writing!

SOME QUICK THINGS ABOUT ME:

My name is not Stallion (obviously) but it is an alias I will go by because I don’t need people from my main blog to know that I’m shamelessly thirsting over 2D characters 🙄🤚🏾 but I would be willing to reveal a lot more about myself through IMs and maybe one day I’ll stop being a wussy lmao. I am a 18 year old African-American woman and hopefully I’ll add some flavor and taste to the already amazing works on yall dash and in yall tags 💜 The whole blog in general is 16+, but for explicit content like smut I do ask that you are 18 years of age, if I can not find anywhere on your blog that you aren’t a minor and you’re engaging with NS4W things then I will block you. Don’t ruin reading my other content for yourself just because you wanna be naughty too early.

ANIMES/MANGAS I WRITE FOR:

AOT/Shingeki no Kyoujin

Jujutsu Kaisen

Devils Line

Toyko Ghoul

Fruits Basket

Erased

Devilman Crybaby

Orange

Gokushufudou ( The Way of the Househusband )

& hopefully this list will be updated as time goes on!

ANIMES IM CURRENTLY WATCHING/MANGS IM READING:

Fruits Basket

Black Clover

Gangsta

Banana Fish

Ouran High School Host Club

Blue Period

DEADtube

Bleach

Death Note

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures

Parasite

High rise invasion

FAVORITE CHARACTERS (meaning these will most likely be the main ones I write for)

Reiner Braun

Jean Kirchstein

Connie Springer

Pieck (I’m terrible for forgetting her last name)

Erwin Smith

Zeke Jaeger

Fushiguro Megumi

Nanami Kento

Suguru Geto

Yuuji Itadori

Mei Mei

Kaneki Ken

Tsukiyama Shuu

WHAT I WRITE:

Headcanons

Drabbles

Maybe a fic if I can keep a solid idea going

AU’s

Smut (probably heavily, but it’ll be tagged as ‘Spicy.’ nonetheless!

Female!reader, Male!reader, Gender neutral!reader

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

Incest of any kind

Overtly taboo kinks like Scat play, water sports, etc

Pedophilia is a big no no!

NS4W or romantic things for underaged characters, but I will write familal or sweet things with them!

As of right now honeybuns my requests are open right now, but but my inbox is open for thirsts, random antics, and brainrots !

[cheri-translates]

Hey Cheri! Thanks for all you the effort you spent on this blog! Really Appreciate it!😍😍😍😍 It lift my mood everyday.😍

I have a request if you don't mind. Can you write a headcanon about the boys spending a day out with their child and MC doing some family trip or activity please 🥺🥺🥺

Take your time.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year ❤️🎊 Looking forward for next year!

ヾ(´ ∀ ` ) I’m pretty bad at kid fics but I hope this sweetens your day~ ♡ 

The children are around 5 years old!

[ GAVIN - the beach ]

Family outings with the Gavin household typically revolve around nature - whether it’s admiring the cherry blossoms in Verdant Plaza or propelling through the air on a zip line. This time, a relaxing day on the beach is exactly what MC and Gavin need after a fatiguing week of work and parenting.

Speaking of parenting...

Rigel has never been the bravest boy. But if there’s anything he inherited from Gavin, it would be his love for MC.

Leaving his half-built sandcastle aside, Rigel stumbles across the sand towards the picnic mat as quickly as his tiny feet can manage.

“Mummy! I’ll protect you!”

The frantic tone in his voice catches the attention of his father, who has just returned after purchasing bottles of water.

Rigel halts abruptly in his footsteps, squatting down while gripping a bucket with his tubby, trembling hands.

Gavin’s eyes flit to the light-orange creature at Rigel’s feet, watching as his son musters his courage to guide the tiny crab (the size of a coin) into the bucket with a shovel.

MC looks up from the book she was reading, eyes softening affectionately as she thanks her her little hero for rescuing her from a potential pinch.

Now that Gavin is back, the three of them prepare to dig in. MC peeks into the picnic basket in anticipation, recalling how she caught them sneaking around in the kitchen earlier this morning, donning matching aprons.

Flipping open the lid, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“...why are there so many sandwiches?”

“Daddy taught me how to make them!” Rigel exclaims, eyes glistening with pride. “Grab the one you find most perfect-looking!

MC’s hand hovers above the sandwiches as she carefully observes Rigel’s reaction. Just like his father, the boy’s emotions are written all over his face. The slightest pout on his lips tells MC everything she needs to know which of the two men in her life made a particular sandwich.

When a smile finally tugs the corners of Rigel’s lips, MC makes her choice.

Sinking her teeth into the sandwich, MC suddenly feels a large hand encasing her free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

In response to her questioning gaze, Gavin explains:

“He said to grab the one we find most perfect-looking, didn’t he?

[ KIRO - at home ]

Considering the sheer amount of time Kiro spends outside filming and amongst screaming crowds, a quiet day at home with his family is the most ideal ‘outing’ he can think of. This weekend, a movie marathon awaits.

All three members of the small family are snuggled up together on the couch. Melody is in the middle, protected on both sides by her parents, and a large bowl of chips in her lap.

The doorbell rings halfway through, and Kiro groans.

“The person who’s even scarier than all the ghosts combined is here...”

Melody bounces up, almost spilling the chips all over the floor if MC hadn’t reacted quickly enough. She rushes to open the door. “Uncle Savin!”

“Little Celebrity!”

After giving Kiro a rundown of his upcoming schedule, Savin hands Melody a bunch of snacks and a “don’t share this with your dad”.

“What’s with this obvious favouritism... I have the exact same hair and sweet blue eyes...” Kiro pouts, watching as Savin fawns over Melody, as though she’s the most precious existence in the entire world.

He’s not wrong, Kiro thinks to himself, eyes turning to MC while she sweeps some crumbs off the sofa. 

She’s the most precious gift from the most precious person in his life.

[ LUCIEN - bookstore ]

Unsurprisingly, Kiran is far more intelligent than other children his age. But this doesn’t stop him from finding pleasure in sci-fi novels despite how bizarre they can be. As such, family outings typically consist of a trip to the local bookstore or the library, where Kiran adds a book or three to his ever-growing collection.

In the comfort of their cosy home, the little family sits together, Kiran sitting on MC’s lap and Lucien beside them. Each of them take turns reading a paragraph aloud from the new book, and Lucien watches as his son’s eyes widen with every flip of the page, waiting in anticipation for the plot to unfold, and for questions to be answered.

The childhood that Lucien didn’t manage to enjoy - he’ll give it all to his son.

[ VICTOR - fruit farm ]

“Look for the ones which are bright red from top to bottom. They bruise easily, so pick them gently.” Victor advises, his unique scent mingling with a sweet, delicate fragrance in the air.

Saffron scrunches her brows, grasping the stem of a strawberry between her forefinger and thumb. With a gentle twist, the berry rolls into her palm, and she places it gingerly into the plastic container.

“Are you training her to be your protégé?” MC asks her husband while filling up her own plastic container.

“Mm. She has potential. Unlike a certain somebody who only knows how to eat.”

Before MC can retort, she feels a light tugging on her skirt, and she looks down to meets the expectant gaze of her daughter.

“After baking the strawberry tarts, c-could we give a few to Uncle Goldman?”

“Hm? Why him?”

While Saffron inherited many things from her father, maintaining a poker face isn’t one of them.

She blushes the colour of the fruits she just picked.

[ Shaw - ??? ]

Probably something mildly illegal lol

More translated and original works: here

[cherrywoes]

AAAA YES- I have been waiting for this opportunity haha! May I ask for just a soft moment between the reader and (now known as) Shion? I’m absolutely enamoured by their relationship and I just want to see the two maybe cuddle a bit and act disgustingly domestic. I wouldn’t mind either headcanons of how they generally act around each other maybe even a small story of maybe 2k ish words? Whatever you’re comfortable with!

Tbh I’m just looking forward to learn more about Shion and his mannerisms TT I hope you have a wonderful day and take care!

a/n: haha i was waiting on this to show up! <3 i did both the small story and the headcanons (at the end) so i hope you enjoy! this ended up around 3k so i’m pretty happy with the result. you have a wonderful day as well! for those of you who don’t know who ama-no-kagaseo/shion is, he’s an oc from my jjk fic dark sun. 

of custard buns, apples, and mandarin oranges.

— ama-no-kagaseo (shion) + reader.

It was a quiet day for you today. There were no assassins, no awful weather to rain on your parade (quite literally, might you add), and, somehow, Sayaka would not be at your side today. Something about a first grade Curse had pulled her away for the day, sending her to the countryside—a place not known for its Curses—for the time being. You weren’t sure why Gojou couldn’t do it, since he was perfectly capable of going himself, but you weren’t going to ignore the chance that this brought you.

You were going to make pastries.

“Pastries?” Ama-no-Kagaseo (Shion, now, you needed to remember) materialized at your side, so close that he was practically leaning on you. He was oddly more in tune with your thoughts than usual after you’d given him that name, or something had changed—more specifically, his attention revolved around you more than anything else now. While that malevolent nature still crept out at times—never to you, but to nearly everyone else on the campus—it was subdued, and he appeared almost docile though you knew that was far from the truth. “I’ve never seen you make them before.”

His innocent curiosity of everything you did was endearing, to say the least. Having never taken interest in human pursuits before, he was set on learning everything you did even if he had no true want to learn it in the first place. He learned it because, through that activity, whatever it may be, he was closer to you, and therefore, in his mind, any time spent being close to you was precious time to him. Being a god and immortal, time that was considered anything other than ‘boring’ was important to him, however, most of it being linked back to you could be a very deadly double-edged sword… for other people, perhaps.

With a smile, you shook your head and held up an index card with the recipe for coconut custard buns. It was one of your favorites, something Sayaka had always bought for you when you were younger and had a notorious sweet tooth, and you’d been craving it recently. But without any way to contact her while she was off on a mission, you were left with only one other option: to make them yourself. You’d discovered the recipe (admittedly, you’d been snooping at first) in a magazine that had belonged to Gojou at some point. It had been left in the common rooms and, well, you considered it free game if he had just left it there when he was done with it.

“That’s because I haven’t,” you replied with a small laugh. You could feel his question burning into the side of your face without even having to look over at him. If you did, you would see a slightly pleading expression on his face, followed by the faint bunching of his brows because Amatsumikaboshi did. Not. Plead. But for you, he most likely would and that was all that mattered. “Yes, you can help me make them, Shion.”

He lit up like a light at the sound of his name. You’d been struggling to remember to call him that and not Ama-no-Kagaseo or Amatsumikaboshi, having done so for years beforehand, so breaking a habit like that was difficult for you. There was a set preconception to those names; all the higher ups saw him as was the malevolent, admittedly vicious god who would see them all destroyed if he had his way, but this was not ‘Amatsumikaboshi’—at least not to you. You’d seen several sides of him in the past few years, but this one—excited, happy even—was the one you liked the most, even if you were fond of both aspects of his godhood.

In his adult and personal form, he looked almost like a giant, overeager puppy—dragon, you thought, at a second glance, peering at the horns poking out over strands of white hair—at the idea of helping you cook. Which, to most people, might be bizarre in and of itself; what god would lower himself to cooking?

“What do they taste like?” He inquired, further leaning on you to the point where he was about to push you over. He wanted a glimpse of the index card, you thought, but then he rested his head on your shoulder instead. He was careful to avoid poking you with his horns and had his head situated at an odd angle that looked uncomfortable. “[Name]?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, pressing your mouth to the top of his head in a mockery of a kiss. He did this to you all the time, and now you understood why: it was extremely intimate, very close and comforting. He always smelled like an interesting mix of the ocean, some tropical flower that you had no name for, and almond oolong tea. It never changed, even when he was in a different form, oddly enough. You didn’t mind it. It was a very sweet, pleasing scent. “Oh, they taste like… custard and tangzhou bread, but I guess you wouldn’t know what that tastes like. You can try it and see if you like it, since you will be helping me.”

“Can we make them now?” He asked, shifting so he was looking up at the underside of your jaw and eyelashes. “I’m curious.”

“Of course.” You smiled and gently pushed a few strands away from his eyes so you could see them better. He’d always had pretty eyes, you’d thought, that seemed to shine with more knowledge than you could ever fathom. Now, though, they were focused on you, those slit pupils wide enough that you could see your reflection in them. As an afterthought, you leaned down and kissed his forehead, much in the same way he did to you when he thought you were napping. When you pulled away, you watched a pale blush creep up his neck and ears, which was just adorable. “But first, we need to make you blend in a bit.”

Confusion rolled across his face like a thundercloud. He stood and helped you to your feet when you struggled to get your legs out from under yourself, numb from sitting so long, and held your weight for a few moments while you waited for the blood to flow back into your legs. “Blend in?”

“Mhm.” You touched his horns and then pointed to his kimono. “I don’t think there’s anyone here right now, but in case someone comes in you’ll look like you’re just a sorcerer. If someone found out you could separate yourself from me like this, they’d report it to the higher ups and I’d be put back in confinement again.”

“No,” Shion said, and at first you thought it was to making him blend in. The scowl that appeared on his face was lethal. “I’ll kill them first.”

With a light laugh, you rose to your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was almost like watching magic, the way his scowl turned into a pleased little smile. “You can’t kill everyone who finds out about you. Then they’ll get suspicious and know it was you.”

“You’re right,” he acknowledged, after a moment, leaning just a bit closer to you. “How will I ‘blend in’, so to speak.”

“Well…” You looked up at his horns, then his hair—which wasn’t all that strange, Gojou had white hair and Itadori had pink hair—and afterwards, his yukata. He could easily be mistaken as a member of one of the three clans and you could say he was replacing Sayaka for the day. You reached up and fingered his horns, surprised at how sharp the individual points were; they were almost like a deer’s horns. “Can you make these go aw—”

And just like that, they were gone, leaving you touching nothing but air.

“Right,” you mumbled, lowering your hand to pick up the astronomically long lengths of hair running down his back. It ended right at his hips, so you could, theoretically, just tie it into a bun and leave it like that. You’d seen plenty of Zen’in men wear their hair like that. “Okay, sit over here.”

You sat down on the edge of your bed and patted the floor with your foot. You retrieved your brush from the nightstand and waited until he was settled, then picked up a strand of hair and started brushing from the bottom to the roots. While they weren’t tangled, you didn’t want to cause him any kind of pain—could he even feel pain?—and gently ran the brush through his hair. He made no complaint and allowed you to continue sectioning off parts of his head, and obediently let you tilt his head this way and that so you could get the areas hanging over his shoulder.

When you were finished brushing it and making sure there weren’t any knots, you set down the brush and began combing his hair back with your fingers. He went entirely limp against your legs, a deep, rolling purr echoing from somewhere in his chest although you could feel it echoing in your shins. You’d heard him purr like that a few times before, usually when he was sitting in the sun of your window like a particularly lazy cat, but this was the first time he’d done it because of something you did. And it was unusually loud, as well, and you had to wonder if it was because he was starting to drift off.

You gathered the rest of his hair up, brushed out the parts that stuck out, and tied it off with a piece of twine you’d had lying around. You didn’t think he would appreciate wearing a sparkly blue ponytail—actually, he more than likely wouldn’t mind matching you. An idea for another day, then.

“Alright,” you said, resting your hands on his shoulders. The purring stopped and he stretched, lifting his arms above his head and popping almost every single bone in his back until he was done. Then he relaxed, head in your lap, and stared up at you. “What?”

Shion continued staring, golden eyes flicking over your face contemplatively. “You’re the most beautiful human in existence to me.”

Oh. You could just feel the blood rushing up to your face, hot and tingly. You stared down at him, mouth falling open in useless stutters, then closed your mouth and pressed your hands to your face. “I… Um…”

“You don’t need to say anything.” He reached up and gently nudged your arm out of the way so he could rest the pads of his fingers against your heart. “I can feel everything you do.”

You were hesitant to lower your hands, but at an encouraging pulse sent through your connection, you dropped them to your lap and cradled his face in your hands. It was moments like these where you had to wonder if Shion knew everything or what you only made obvious. He never said anything, if he did, so you supposed he kept to himself so you could say what you wanted to and nothing else.

The both of you stayed like that for a few moments, caught in an interesting limbo, until you remembered the whole point of making him look somewhat human in the first place.

“Alright,” you sighed, sufficiently calmed down enough that you could make sense of your words again. You patted his cheek softly in a gesture for him to get up. “Let’s go make those custard pastries, hm?”

The college kitchen was nothing to scoff at, but it was also everything you’d never had before. You had cooked before, of course, but not with anything super high tech. Luckily it was easy enough to figure out how to work the oven and you gathered the ingredients from the cupboards, setting them all down on a counter, and got to work.

Shion (even wearing an apron) helped you through every step, although you left the kneading and stirring to him since he was the god and you, decidedly, were not. He was happy to do whatever you asked of him and it was funny watching him get irritated with the ball of dough when you said it needed to rest before you could stuff it and cook it.

While you waited thirty some minutes for the dough to sit and rise, you retrieved a small bowl of fruit you had cut while watching him labor over the dough. It was mostly apples and mandarin oranges, both some of your favorites. You didn’t want to get your hands sticky so you used chopsticks to eat them, and offered an apple slice to Shion when he sent a curious glance at the bowl. He stared at it for a moment and then leaned down to take a hesitant bite of it, pulling away so you couldn’t make him eat the rest if he didn’t like it. You popped the rest in your mouth and watched his face for any sign that he didn’t like it, but when he finished chewing he nodded his head and gestured for you to give him another.

You spent the next thirty minutes like this, eating apples and oranges and offering some to Shion whenever he indicated he wanted another. He spent a lot of time savoring the flavors while you just ate one and immediately ate another, which you assumed came down to him never eating human food before.

When the dough finished rising, it took you no time to fill them and pop them in the oven with Shion’s help. With thirty five minutes more to wait, you sat down in a chair and Shion followed, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Shion?” You asked, inching your head back to mimic the pose he had been in earlier. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He looked amused that you had to ask. “What is it?”

“Why do you always want me to wear kimonos?” You inquired. You’d always assumed it was to signify that you were his vessel in the most obvious way possible, but you’d also never asked him. You’d just assumed. “These ones specifically.”

“Ah.” He nodded and his eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought. “Before I was cast aside as a failed product, my mother—Izanami, as I’m sure you know—made a set of kimonos specifically for the one I would choose as a partner one day. She did this for all of my siblings, I believe. The originals are lost to time, so I made these in their fashion.”

“Oh.” You touched the hem of your kimono thoughtfully. “And these—they don’t remind you of your mother?”

“No.” Shion rested his chin on your head with a pleased sigh. “You wear them, therefore they remind me of you.”

And you had to say you didn’t mind that.

The custard buns were done after twenty minutes or so, so you parted from Shion and pulled them out of the oven to let them cool. Or, at least, that was your intention; Shion, foolishly or stupidly, you didn’t know, picked one up with his bare hand and you had to watch in disbelief as he took a bite of nearly scalding hot bread and custard and said ‘It’s good’.

“Shion!” You exclaimed, watching his eyes dart over to you over the custard bun in his hand. “That’s hot! You can’t just eat it like that—”

“Why not?” He interrupted, taking another bite as if just to spite you. “It’s not too hot.”

“For you, maybe,” you sighed, watching with envy as he polished off the rest of his bun in one go. “I have to wait for them to cool.”

He seemed to realize, belatedly, what he had done—or he felt your envy, at any rate—and frowned. He approached you and swept you into his arms, nuzzling his nose into the side of your head affectionately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

You exhaled through your nose and rubbed his back soothingly, indicating you weren’t mad at him. “It’s okay, Shion. Here, help me clean up while I wait for them to cool off and consider it forgotten.”

He nodded eagerly and, in the span of about two seconds, proceeded to use his curse energy to sweep everything back into the cupboards they had come from. You watched, dumbfounded, as the doors unlatched and opened to allow flour, sugar, and yeast to return inside and slam closed once he was done.

“That’s one way to do it,” you laughed and began packing the rest of the custard buns into a small box, holding your hand out for Shion to take. He took it willingly, falling in step beside you and following you back to your dorm room. “Did you like the custard or was it too sweet?”

“Mm…” Shion watched as you kicked off your shoes and opened the door to your room. “It was good. I preferred the fruit more.”

“I’m guessing you like natural sweets, then,” you guessed, opening the box. They were now pleasantly warm and not too hot for you, unlike Shion, so you took a bite and nodded in satisfaction. They tasted just like your memories, if not a little sweeter but you didn’t mind it. It wasn’t going to be a perfect imitation, after all. You finished your bun and closed the box so no more heat would escape and laid on your bed, careful not to allow Shion’s human body to flop to the side in his sling. You’d almost forgotten it was there, you’d been so occupied with him for the day, and you wondered how he felt about it.

“It’s an irritant,” he answered, following your thoughts. He joined you and snuggled up to your free side, your arm instinctively coming up to lower your hand to his cheek. Shion slung one arm across your stomach, just under the sling, and pulled you closer, intent on getting comfortable even at your expense. “That body keeps you prisoner to it, and I am not even within it—just linked to it.”

“You’re not in it?” You repeated, turning your head to look at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Those Sukuna cultists ruined the ritual,” he replied nonchalantly. “Not that these people here know that. So you don’t have to hold it all the time; there are no repercussions unlike if they had actually completed it properly.”

“So…” You allowed a hand to come up and touch his human form delicately. “I could let your body lay next to me and I wouldn’t have to worry?”

“No.”

So you unhooked the sling from your shoulders, free of the weight for the first time in years, and held your breath as his human body rested next to you. Shion reached over you and tugged a blanket up and over you, his human body, and himself, finally comfortable.

“I wonder…” You stroked Shion’s cheek in thought, staring up at the ceiling while he drifted off, that interesting purr kicking up against your side. “Hmm.”

With a cursory glance at his human body, still deathly still as it always was, you turned your back to it and snuggled up to Shion, nudging your head under his chin and settling in for a nap.

Like all the times you had slept with him near, you felt, of course, at peace.

headcanons:

shion and the reader are very close--and i mean very, very close, to the point where they freely share affection and (as indicated) their food. they are also very comfortable with each other as well, more than with anyone else in their lives.

shion’s natural curiosity extends to the reader and only the reader. so anything she does, he will most likely either a) want to participate or b) ask her about what she’s doing and if she likes it or not.

shion actually has a very bad habit of listening in on the reader’s thoughts and feelings even if she isn’t aware of it, which usually gives him a head’s up on her emotional state. while the reader doesn’t listen to his out of respect, she sometimes takes a peek, unaware that he does notice when she does.

shion’s purring comes from the fact that he does have a dragonic form. he does this when he’s at ease, or happy, both of which are shown in this drabble. it translates into his human form through an extra set of vocal chords.

the reader is shion’s favorite anything, and as such, he’s protective of her—perhaps too protective. shion is still a malevolent god and he still has those tendencies to become violent, and while he will never become violent with the reader (he doesn’t have the heart to even shout at her) that does not go for anyone else who is in her general vicinity.

shion has a little habit where he’ll instinctively want to be touching the reader, almost like a particularly clingy cat. sometimes he won’t, but most of the time he most absolutely will.

because of his origins as a formless god, he’s touch starved, which might not mean much because he’s a god, right? he had no affection from his mother and father, izanami and izanagi, so he knows nothing about love and affection, so when he gets it from the reader, he feels like he belongs, and thus, has no qualms about doing whatever is necessary to keep her safe.

shion doesn’t actually understand the emotions he feels. like referenced in the chapters, his emotional understanding is around that of a toddler’s—he knows what it is, can feel it, but he doesn’t understand the deeper meaning to them. he just knows they are there and acknowledges that they are caused by the reader. his logical understanding, however, is that of a god’s, and so he makes logical equations of his emotions instead, which can be quite the double edged sword.

shion is an intj-t.

shion can’t really taste anything synthetic, so he was lying when he said the custard was good so he wouldn’t hurt the reader’s feelings. :’)

that gif at the top perfectly represents shion’s reaction to being offered an apple slice. 

requests are: open. 

[joezworld]

Story - The Railway Prometheus, or, when the Diesels discover fire

Based off of this headcanon that I made.

And this one.

And also parts of this one.

I decided to write an actual honest-to-god RWS style thing

Dragons teaching Diesels

2001

Most diesel engines dislike being cold started.

Cold starting occurs when a diesel is started while their fuel and engine block are both cold. Diesel engines do not work like petrol engines, which use a spark plug to ignite the fuel, and instead compress the fuel vapour, causing it to ignite on its own. This is called compression ignition. 

When the engine block or the fuel is cold, the fuel does not compress properly, and it means that some of the engine’s cylinders will fire, while others do not. This causes the engine to fire unevenly, makes a ghastly knocking sound, and produces a lot of smoke and soot - commonly called clag. 

On the Island of Sodor, a cold started diesel also produces another ghastly noise - this time coming from the Steam Engines watching. They assume that something has gone dreadfully wrong, and make many unhelpful comments about the clag and the noise. 

Bear and BoCo are well aware of what cold starting is, and try to avoid being near other engines - partly so that they can cold start without Gordon or James’ unhelpful commentary, but mostly so that no one could hear them yelling...

“FUCK!” BoCo swore from within a cloud of soot and clag. It was a bitterly cold February morning, and nobody wanted to start properly. His engine was knocking like it belonged in an old jalopy, and he felt most uncomfortable. 

Bear grimaced in sympathy as he shot his own tower of clag into the otherwise crisp morning air. His motor mounts were going to ache later, and- “Aggh!” He cried as fire shot out of his exhaust vents. 

Another issue with cold starting was that unburnt fuel would build up within an engine’s exhaust manifold. Once the manifold got hot enough, the fuel would then spontaneously combust - sending huge gouts of flame out of the exhaust stacks. Bear hated it when that happened, as it caused a very unpleasant sensation. He knew BoCo hated it as well. 

But, for some diesels on the island, it seemed to be the highlight of their day…

“Three, two, one, GO!” shouted Pip and Emma in unison. At their call, massive pillars of flame shot out both sets of exhaust stacks, bathing the yard in a bright orange light for a moment. 

“How do you two enjoy that?” He asked. Before this winter the HST pair had been stabled at Barrow, but had been moved down to the Tidmouth diesel shed in the summer of 2000. Now that he was regularly in close contact with them, their numerous eccentricities began to stand out.

“It’s fun!” Came the response from the blue and yellow passenger train. 

From inside his cloud, BoCo hacked incredulously. “Fucking How?!”

 “You have to do it right.” Said Emma. The massive grin on her face meant that she was eagerly anticipating somebody asking her to demonstrate the ‘right way’.

“There’s a wrong way?” Bear raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t letting her get what she wanted that easily. 

“Of course there is! It’s the wrong way if it hurts!”

“We’re catching on fire. How does that not hurt?”

“By being a dragon, silly!”

“What.”

“Just be a dragon!” Pip shouted from the other end of the HST trainset.

“You still haven’t made sense.” Bear puzzled as his engine finally started firing on all cylinders. 

More bursts of fire belched from within the BoCo-shaped cloud - his motor just wasn’t having it today. 

“Bear - stop. What is the right way Emma?” Implored the cloud. 

“I - I don’t know how to explain it,” she began. “But you need to - it feels like-”

“Just breathe in through your exhaust manifold!” Bellowed Pip, as if this made any sense.

After a few minutes of listening to BoCo making bizarre sounding whistling noises, Bear began to think that Pip and Emma were making fun of him. His only evidence against this was Emma’s genuinely earnest expression as she tried to talk the diesel through this ‘breathing exercise’.

Finally, a hacking cough emerged from the Cloud Formerly Known as Boco, before a giant column of flame shot ten feet horizontally out of where BoCo’s mouth would be. 

Swearing loudly, the Hymek lurched backwards as Pip and Emma cheered. 

“Was that supposed to happen?!” He cried. 

“Yes!” Pip called as BoCo began to fire on all cylinders. 

Bear goggled at her, to which she wryly grinned, before shooting her own blast of flames - right out of her mouth. 

“See, this is why we’re the Dragon Sisters!” She said exuberantly. 

“Really?”

“Nah. But it sure is fun!” 

As Bear pondered the class 43’s sanity, BoCo’s cloud dissipated, revealing a happy Metrovick - engine now firing on all cylinders. “Pip, Emma, however did you learn how that worked?” He asked as his crew emerged from the yard office - totally ignorant to the many bursts of fire that had just happened. 

“I dunno,” Emma said after a moment of thinking. “It just sort of happened. But it’s really cool! I can do it whenever I want to as well!”

To prove this, she smiled, and a small burst of flames licked around her teeth, but didn’t explode outwards like before. 

“What an incredibly odd thing for the factory to do to you. Carry on.” BoCo was at a loss for words and was unsure if he should be concerned, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and said no more as his crew ran across the yard and into the warmth of his cab. His cold engine had made them very late, and they wasted no time in driving him away. 

“You weren’t built like that, were you?” Bear said as BoCo disappeared into the distance. 

“No.” Said Emma. 

“Can you teach me?”

----------------------------------------------------

Revenge is best served on fire

BoCo lived on Edward’s branch line, serving as the primary freight diesel for the industries in Suddery and Brendam. As a result of this, he is often forced to be in close proximity to Bill and Ben. 

Bill and Ben are two yellow menaces tank engines that work for the China Clay company in Brendam. Originally, they were restricted to working just on the small industrial spur that served the clay pits, but as cargo traffic increased in the late 1990s, they had been given permission to travel as far as Wellsworth to deliver their trains of clay directly to the main line. 

This sounds like good news for BoCo, as it means less work for him, but in actuality it is the opposite. 

You see, Bill and Ben are very dedicated pranksters, and spend many hours having fun at BoCo and Edward’s expense. While the pranks only work occasionally, their goal of annoying BoCo and Edward is often met regardless. 

One day in March, BoCo was resting between trains at Wellsworth Station when Bill and Ben peeped into the yard, a long string of clay trucks rattling behind them. 

Maybe they’ll be too tired to do anything. He thought to himself. 

“Oh! There’s BoCo!”

“He’s sleeping! Let’s do plan seven!”

How naive I must be. 

BoCo kept his eyes shut as Bill and Ben began babbling to each other in German. He had no idea how or when the terrible twosome had managed to learn it, but it had proved most irritating - which was probably why they learned it in the first place.

 “Mal sehen, ob er das merkt!”

“Ja!”

BoCo had no idea what they were saying, but knew he’d be annoyed by it. Perhaps a pre-emptive strike could be arranged…

Breathing in deeply through his exhaust vents like Pip and Emma had taught him, BoCo waited until the twins drew nearer. 

As they got close, he dropped his jaw open as if he was about to begin snoring. After waiting a few more seconds, he let out the deep breath he was holding. 

A massive blast of fire shot out of the Diesel’s mouth - BoCo couldn’t see it, but it almost scorched Ben's eyebrows off.

“SCATTER!”

“AAAAAAHHHH!” 

The sound of frantic steam engines vanished into the distance, and BoCo sighed in relief. 

For a moment, all was still. 

For a moment -

“What in the world was that?!” 

BoCo cracked open an eye to see Henry, sitting at the signals with a load of hoppers. He had seen everything, and wasn’t sure if he was seeing things or not. 

“Indigestion.” Was all BoCo said before going back to sleep. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

Wendell, Dragons, and Bears, Oh My!

Despite what many engines may claim, Pip, Emma, Bear, and BoCo were not the only diesels on the North Western Railway. There is also Wendell. 

Wendell is the works diesel for Crovan’s Gate works. He is a Blue and Yellow Class 47, and spends most of his days rescuing broken down engines and returning empty stock from the works to the yards where they’re needed. Because he normally meets engines while they are broken down, he is regarded well by all the engines on the Island - even James, who normally views Diesel traction with suspicion. 

Just like the other diesels on the Island, Wendell dislikes cold starts, but has much less experience with them than the others do, as he has a nice warm shed at the works that he lives in year-round! 

Bear and BoCo aren’t jealous, but Pip and Emma are! No matter how much they enjoy cold-starting, they still don’t enjoy being left outside in the frigid air. 

One morning in April 2001, Wendell was dispatched to Tidmouth - Henry had failed, and an engine was needed to take his morning trains. 

Wendell had agreed - in no small part because he didn’t know that Henry’s ‘morning’ included the Flying Kipper, which left Tidmouth at 3:15 in the ‘morning’!

To make things worse, there was an unseasonable cold snap, with temperatures dropping below freezing overnight. 

Wendell missed his shed as he shivered in the yard at Tidmouth. His engine was cold, and the fuel that his driver had pumped in wasn’t any warmer. 

His starter motor tried and tried to make him start, and when it eventually happened, he was enveloped in a cloud of soot and clag as his engine fired on maybe three of its twelve cylinders. 

“Yuck!” He moaned as the cloud thickened. “I can’t see anything! And my motor mounts hurt!”

 “Breathe through your exhaust!” Came a cry through the haze. 

“What?” 

“Breathe in through your exhaust manifold! It should help!” The mystery voice said again. 

“Okay!” It wasn’t like he would lose anything by trying, so Wendell tried, and eventually managed to take a deep breath in through his exhaust stacks. 

Unfortunately, this meant that he inhaled a lot a clag and fuel vapor, which caused him to start coughing and hacking until - 

“Yipe!” A jet of fire shot out of his mouth!

A cheer broke out from beyond the haze as his engine started to fire on more cylinders. In a few minutes, Wendell was much warmer, and his engine was firing on all cylinders as the haze began to clear, revealing Bear and Pip. 

“Isn’t that better?” The HST called to him. 

“Yes, but - what?” Wendell tripped over his words. “How does that happen?”

“We’re not sure,” Said Bear, as flames danced around the inside of his mouth. “but it works wonders on cold nights like this.” 

“Ooookaaay.” Said the Works Diesel slowly. “So, I can just do that now?” 

“Pretty much!” Pip said cheerfully. 

Wendell, feeling like he had just been initiated into a cult, said his goodbyes as his crew stumbled up to him, coffee thermoses firmly in their grasp. 

This island is insane. He thought to himself. But I live here. So I must be insane too. 

As he was driven towards the docks, he breathed in through his vents again, and felt a pleasant warmth fill his mouth. 

He smiled to himself. Maybe being a bit crazy isn't so bad.

--------------------------------

Fire Breathing Dragons

While Pip and Emma live on the Island of Sodor, their duties require them to travel from Tidmouth to London and back on a daily basis. Ordinarily there is no issue with this, but every now and again, they will be forced to stay the night in London. 

One night in the summer of 2002, planned track work meant that their return service couldn’t be run, and the sisters found themselves in a very shabby looking depot outside of Euston station. 

God, this place has gone downhill since BR. Pip thought to her sister. 

Too right. I think the shunter said that this was going to be torn down after they replace us with Pendolinos. Emma replied, referring to their class as a whole. It was an open secret that the Intercity 125 sets were going to be replaced with new tilting trains on the West Coast Main Line - soon the Dragon Sisters would be the only HST on the line. 

“Eurrgh,” Oiled a voice from a few lines away. “Must we stay here tonight?”

Pip was blocked by a rake of coaches, but Emma could see that there was another HST set a few roads away. The power car looked disgusted to have to be in this shed. 

“Yes Chauncey,” Came the voice of the other power car on the set. “We have to stay here tonight. I’m not any more pleased about it than you.”

“I know, 092, I know,” Chauncey said resignedly. “At least it could be worse.”

“How can it be worse?”

“Well, that other HST set could be awake - then we’d have to talk to them!”

“Oh heavens! I hadn’t even thought of that!”

Well they seem nice. Pip sarcastically thought to Emma - clearly Chauncey and 092 didn’t share the same mental link that they did, and assumed that the sisters were asleep. 

Yeah - like Gordon when he gets boiler sludge. Emma replied. She vaguely remembered working with 092 back in the BR days, and didn’t have fond memories. 

-

Several hours passed. Pip and Emma were idly discussing the newest gossip that they’d heard, a few trains rumbled past on the WCML, and Chauncey and 092 made inane conversion around which railroad in the country was worse than the others. 

Emma was on the edge of drifting off to sleep when 092 spoke up.

“Oh! That’s right! What about the No-Where Railway? That place must be a pit!”

He didn’t. Emma thought.

“You mean that one off of Furness? The retirement home for antiquated heaps?”

He did. Her sister replied.

“Excuse me!” Pip spoke out loud for the first time that night. “But are you, by chance, talking about the North Western Railway?”

“Oh goodness!” Chauncey said in fright. “I’m sorry! Did we wake you?”

“No,” Said Emma. “What were you saying about the NWR?”

“The No-Where Railway? There isn’t much to say about it really,” 092 said blithely. “It’s a hole in the countryside that you shovel old metal into - I’d be ruder, but I don’t think that they ever got the notice that BR dissolved, so I can’t blame them.”

“92?” Said Chauncey, who had suddenly noticed the lettering on Emma’s side - and the expression on her face. “Perhaps you should stop talking now.”

“Why? It isn’t like they’re from that island - they don’t look like they came out of a black and white film.” 092 said, unaware of who he was speaking to. 

“Actually,” ground out Emma. “We are from that Island.”

“Oh. well how unfortunate for you,” 092 sniffed. “Tell me, do they still believe that Beeching is alive there?”

--

The late night trains at Euston Station practically jumped off of their rails at the barrage of sounds that echoed throughout the station yard. It sounded like the Tyrannosaurus from Jurassic Park was yelling at someone, and punctuating their conversation with massive fireballs. 

Fire crews from Railtrack and the borough of Camden responded, but found no traces of any fire - or a Tyrannosaur.