#I used to have posters of him ALL over my wall in my teens

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.07

“Why can’t Maggie be in here?”

An older woman with auburn hair named Deanna smiles at you. She was in charge of Alexandria, and she would be deciding if your group would get to stay or not. You didn’t mind talking to her initially, but what made you uneasy was her videoing your conversation and not allowing your sister to sit in the room with you.

“I won't bite,” she smiles. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable; I just want to ask you a few questions.”

When your group first arrived in Alexandria, everyone was made to hand their weapons over, and now being asked personal questions... it felt intrusive. Deanna straightens out old-fashioned flora curtains before wiping her finger along her bookcase, which was fully stacked. She smudges the dust between her fingers, then turns to you and asks, “How long have you been out there?”

“Uh, I’m unsure. Two years maybe.”

She sits down in the chair across from you and asks, “How did you all find each other?”

“When someone got shot, they were brought to my family's farmhouse so my dad could help save them.”

She looks intrigued. “Is your father a doctor?”

“No, he was a veterinarian.”

“Smart man. I’m assuming because you’re referring to him in the past tense, he’s no longer with us.”

“I lost my dad not long ago.”

“Have you lost anybody else?”

“I lost my big brother Shawn, mom, and cousin Arnold all on the same day. Walkers attacked them. My dad and sister were killed by people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, sounding sincere. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

Deanna shakes her head and says, “You are far too young to have lost so much. I truly am sorry. So, as far as I’m aware, Rick is the leader of your group.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“How do you think he does?”

You thought you could handle a few more questions, but tears began to swell. You didn’t like being asked anything because it brought everything you'd been through back. “Rick is a good person; everyone in our group is. We’re a family.”

—

Your group was given two large houses to stay in for now, but so far everyone has just gathered into one and is taking turns cleaning up. Being in the walled-off community felt like being in a TV show where the rich housewives live in the suburbs. The only thing you felt was normal was Daryl cutting open a possum while sitting on the porch. Your eyes widen when Rick walks outside; he has showered and shaved off his beard, making him look like a completely different person.

But then again, you looked different. After showing Rosita how to braid your hair, a nice blonde woman named Jesse dropped off some clean clothes for you to wear, along with toys for Judith.

“Has anyone been there yet?” You point to the house next door.

“I don’t think so,” Carl says, looking up at his dad. “Can we go check it out?”

Hesitantly, Rick agrees. “You can go look; just be quick and stick together.”

—

The house next door was nearly identical, aside from a few decorations. Growing up on a farm, you’d never dreamed of living in a modern home built like this. Carol had come with you to check it out; she was now leaning out of the kitchen window, talking to the people who live in the house next door.

When you hear a thumping noise coming from upstairs, you jump and grab Carl’s wrists. “Shit, sorry.” Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you let go. “I’m just on edge.”

“It’s fine.” Carl offers you his hand. “I get it; I’m scared all the time too.”

He loosely holds onto your hand as you walk up the stairs, and when you reach the room, the noise is coming from Carl. He pulls out his knife and waits for you to do the same before pushing the door open. The room looks like a typical teenage hangout spot; the floor was covered in magazines, comics, CDs, and weirdly designed pillows with posters of bands you’ve never heard of before pinned to the walls.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Carl says, “These are probably things we would have been interested in if things were different.”

“Not me,” you sigh. “I would never have been allowed magazines with half-naked women on the cover. Shawn was grounded for two months when Maggie found a magazine with a woman wearing nothing but a bikini under his bed.”

Carl laughs while kicking a dusty blanket aside to see what’s underneath it. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You never talk about your brother much.”

A fleeting smile tugs at your lips. Being the youngest, Shawn completely doted on you, and as a child, you would follow him around like a shadow. He always had time for you. His death hit you so hard because you thought he would always be there to protect you, but he died trying to save your mom from walkers.

“Hope? You okay, you kind of zoned out there.”

Hearing Carl’s voice, you snap out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “I was just thinking that my brother would have really liked you.”

—

You bite the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing. Judith looks so confused as an elderly couple. Natalie and Bob Miller fuss over her. It was clear there weren’t many kids around, and this was the first time anyone had seen a baby in years, so they were all excited to see Judith.

“Is that Jesse?” Carl asks quietly.

You look up and see his dad talking to her, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

“My dad seems to like her. He says we’re to go to her house later and meet her son, Ron.”

It was weird; the idea of being a normal teenager was starting to freak you out.

—

After showing you around his home, Ron led you and Carl up to his bedroom to introduce you to his friend Mikey and girlfriend Enid. You were still trying to wrap your head around the idea of returning to school in the afternoons, which was held in a garage, when Carl nudges you with his elbow to gain your attention.

“Sorry, what?”

Ron chuckles. “I said cool bracelet; where do you get it?”

“Em, Carl found them,” you mutter.

“Neat, kind of like a souvenir of the apocalypse.” He pushes his bedroom open. “Enid, Mikey, this is Carl and Hope.”

After an awkward introduction, Ron lists the different things that they do while hanging out, such as reading comics, playing video games, and playing pool. The fact they had electricity from solar panels was mind-blowing enough, but seeing all the stuff they had was leaving you speechless.

You smile at Enid as you sit on the edge of Ron's double bed, while Carol joins the other boys in playing video games. You thought it was a little bit in bad taste; they were playing a zombie video game, but don’t mind watching until a particular scene happens: one of the players finds a sword and begins decapitating the undead.

You and Carl exchange a look before you excuse yourself. “I gotta go; I need to help Maggie with something.”

—

Rick isn’t the slightest surprised when he enters Carl’s new bedroom and finds you in it as well. You were staring out the window in his room that overlooks the woods outside, watching as walkers gathered on the opposite side of the wall. While Carl lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Rick sits at the edge of the bed, asking, “How was Ron’s house?”

“What do you think of this place?” Carl asks him.

“Well, I think it seems nice.”

“Yeah, I like it here. I like the people, but they’re weak. And I don’t want us to get weak.”

The people here don’t have a clue what it’s like on the outside, and if the walkers broke through the wall, most of them would be dead in five minutes.

When Rick leaves, you go and sit on the floor with your back against the bed. You pick up one of the comics Carl found earlier, place it in your lap, and start to flip through. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you look up and ask, “What?”

Carl looks as if he’s struggling to say something; after a moment, he swings his arm lower and links his fingers with yours.

#the walking dead #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes fanfic #Carl Grimes x you #carl grimes x reader #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes #teen spirit #teen spirit 5.07 #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction

[infamous-if]

I’m curious what the RO’s homes/bedrooms look like because I think it can tell a whole lot about someone 🤔

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED. I was actually ruminating over what Sev's room/apartment, in particular, would look like the other day.

Seven's room is very dark to me. Black walls, a lot of band posters plastered everywhere. It's a mess but an organized mess. Very much what a music enthusiast's room would look like in a 2000s teen movie lol. They've never grown out of the 'fanboy/fangirl' phase so they'd just have posters all over, they have a dresser of vintage records on one side and a mirror full of photo booth pictures and photos of their life tacked to it. Their bed is never made, mostly because Seven is always in bed when they're home. Seven has clothes strewn just about everywhere but they claim to know where everything is. A lot of ripped-out pages of scrapped out song lyrics on the floor. My imagination of Seven's songwriting process is a lot of pacing, a lot of humming. They get their best ideas while doing other stuff like cleaning and cooking. Outside of their room, their apartment is also messy with a lot of novels strewn about. Seven is very sentimental so every gift they've ever gotten is on display. Their bathroom is clean but messy; just a lot of hair products and makeup everywhere. Seven's "I just rolled out of bed" look is a stylistic choice lmao

I can imagine Sev being a very annoying neighbor to have since they always have music on and they're always singing. Seven has never actually cleaned their place quickly because of all the times they stop to have a mini concert in their living room. Seven is fun when they're alone lol

Orion's is expectantly clean and very minimalist. His room is barren, a plain black bed with a metal headboard. He always has incense burning and has an air purifier and a lot of tech. Everything is spotless and there's not anything out of place. Orion's place is a lot of dark furniture, a lot of leather, and a lot of gray and white in terms of looks. He has a large glass balcony that he likes to do work on in the mornings. I imagine him to have a large closet with all just suits on one side and just...straight up black clothes on the other. Orion isn't one to wear anything colorful. His neighbors love him and want to connect with him but Orion is not interested lol More than a few times he'd come home and just plops himself on his couch and falls asleep due to how tired he was.

Sebastian's home is large but sparsely decorated. He has a big TV to play his video games on and it's what you'd think is a stereotypical young guy's place: brown couch, some video game memorabilia, and some sports stuff. He has a huge gamer computer setup he built himself. He uses it for games and for coding and general data stuff. Sebastian likes displaying all of his goodies and stuff and he doesn't touch Maya's room, which is much like Seven's in that it's super cluttered with music stuff and posters. Sebastian's house is what a default sims house looks like: nothing stylish, just generic furniture.

Victoria and G's is luxurious that leans more to anything that they like they just toss it in there. Huuuuge with plushy colorful couches and overpriced designer furniture. OH! If anyone has seen Cara Delevigne's AD...that's what their house would look like. Just chaotic everywhere with so many knickknacks and things that it's like an assault on your every single sense. Funky wallpapers, leopard rugs. A lot of that, surprisingly, is G's doing. G was very set on designing their house. They're barely home and live mostly in hotels anyway so it doesn't really matter.

August's is pretty generic; gray walls, purple bed. They live with their family (August was supposed to live with a roommate but I changed it to better fit their route) and Clare tends to be the messy one. I would say August's room is half and half, it's pretty empty but what they do have takes up a lot of space like their drum set and their huge speakers. The house is big (August's parents are pretty well-off as politicians) and very Grecian in appearance. August doesn't have much knickknacks and things like Seven. They're pretty detached to sentimental things like that. It's a very standard room, the centerpiece definitely being their drums. They have a huge computer set up, though, like a gamer set up like Seb's but they don't use it for games lmao

#reference #? #infamous cast #inbox #most questions have been very curious about the cast as people now rather than in relation to MC #fun!

[ang3lthoughts]

Warning: underage smoking, 15!chuuya, Chuuya is a stupid loser in love, reader and Chuuya are VERY a tiiiiny bit emo/scene. Dazai and Chuuya are roomies!!! Shotgunning, Chuuya and reader do kiss a little O,o

Do‼️not‼️smoke‼️nor‼️drink‼️unless‼️you‼️are‼️the‼️legal‼️age‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ I cannot stress that enough!!!! This is pure fiction. Not real at all. Smoking kills!! Not cool!! (Is it working guys am I the next DARE)

Reqs open btw!!! :3

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Chuuya didn’t know how long he had been looking in the mirror for. He wanted to make sure his eyeliner was perfectly smudged, his hair was perfectly messy, and his room was fit to match your liking. Posters were hung all over his wall, his laundry was (mostly) neatly put in a basket minus the few shirts and pants that were scattered around. His Millionares, My Chemical Romance and Pierce the Veil cds were “coincidentally” the ones on display because he knows you like them.

A knock on his bedroom door made him stop dead in his tracks. Were you here? He rushed to the door excitedly like a puppy when its owner comes home. “He- oh ew it’s just you.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t the one he expected, but his stupid roommate Dazai. “Were you expecting someone else, Chuuya~?” He flashed Chuuya a grin “it’s none of your business, brace face. What do you want?” “Not too much about my braces, pepperoni pizza. Have you seen my nail polish? You were the last one to use it” “I put it in the bathroom you idiot”

“Oh! Chuuya! Hey!” before their banter could grow further, a head popped out from behind the wall “[name]. Hi.” His voice was breathy. “Wait. How’d you get in here without keys?” Dazai questioned, peeking behind Chuuya to make eye contact with you “oh! The door was wide open.” “Fuck!” The brown haired man rushed down the stairs. “Cool bandages!” You yelled from afar.

Chuuya closed the door and put on music. You immediately recognized the song and hummed along, swaying while idly sitting criss-cross on his bed. “So… what’s in the bag?” The boy questioned. You grinned at him and shoved your hand in the bag making an annoying crinkling noise “I’m so glad you asked!” You pulled out a box of splat hair dye and a baggie of pre-rolled weed.

“Which one d’ya wanna do first?”

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

“Okay. First I gotta light it. Then you put it to your lips and inhale. Juuust like a cigarette. ”

It was embarrassing for the the male to admit to his crush that he had never gotten high. Of course he had smoked before, but only nicotine-infused products. not anything that would get him too fucked up. Luckily, you didn’t tease him about it like a certain suicidal maniac would. If anything, you seemed excited to show him the ropes. “Cigarettes are just the less fun version of joints. When you smoke it so often the headrush just wares off and it’s no fun anymore” your rambling fell to deaf ears because all he could focus on was you. Your plump lips, adorned with piercings, the worn-out skunk stripes matched his freshly done ones from the previous activities together, your black-painted nails went with the black stained tips of your fingers from the hair dye... He could spend every hour studying everything about you.

He finally snapped out of his trance when you lit the plant. “Open your mouth for me, chuu.” what? You had just explained how it was like a cigarette, so why did you want him to open his mouth? He complied anyway and made eye contact with you as you took a looong drag. Grabbing his face, you exhaled smoke into his mouth and he immediately inhaled all the smoke you gave him. His cheeks blossomed into a fiery red from how intimate the moment was. The eye contact between the two teens in love was a gaze as intense as the piercing rays of the sun.

Oh my god. holy shit. That was so fucking hot. Oh my god. is she gonna pull away? His head was racing. You gave him a toothy grin and put the joint right up to his lips, not daring to pull away. He inhaled the weed. a harsh taste hit his mouth immediately. He shakily exhaled and you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your lower back as you crawled ontop of him. Pulling away as a string of saliva clung onto the both of your mouths, you exhaled the smoke that was previously in chuuyas mouth.

Mind clouded with lust and the high hitting him at the same time had his whole world spinning. You sat up, straddling his waist and taking a hit. “You feeling it yet, baby?” You exhaled. He giggled drowsily and nodded “Cmere. Wanna kiss you again.” He pushed your back down so your lips could touch again.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

GRRRR I LOVE CHUUYA. LOBE LOBE LOBE HIM.

Reqs open btw!!! :3

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #i love him your honor #emo Chuuya for the win #angels secrets!🍎

[mc-was-here]

hi! it’s my first time requesting,i was wondering if you could do headcanons of the brothers with teen!mc who is a k-pop stan ,has like A LOT of posters of idols in their room and is learning k-pop dances. Thank you in advance 🫶

This is the CUTEST request ever omg!!! 😭💕 Also yay, first request! I’ll do my best!

Teen!MC who’s a k-pop fan:

CW: Platonic, Fluff

Lucifer:

-He has no idea about the music and has never heard of k-pop before until you introduced it to him.

-Major peepaw vibes, he’s clueless BUT he supports you all the way.

-When he walked to you room to see all the posters, he was taken aback but finds it super endearing.

-Speaking of him being an absolute grandpa, he’d try to indulge you to talk about it.

-He pointed out one of the posters asking “MC, this is Jungkook, right?”

-He meant nothing bad, he just doesn’t know the names and was genuinely asking. Please give him a break… 😭

-You stare at him blankly and correct him.

-He had a laugh from that and will tease you sometimes about it.

-He still has no idea about the music but will recognize the merch whenever he visits the human world and will get you something.

-He got a mug once, you still use it every chance you get.

-He caught you dancing to some tunes once in your room, and you kicked him out so fast.

-Will tell you about it and say he loves how your passionate about it and that you had nice moves! 😊

Mammon:

-He will try really hard not to say anything when he found out you’re a k-pop fan…

-He coincidentally bumped into your room and you didn’t notice since you had your headphones on.

-It was fairly loud and you were dancing by a mirror.

-Mammon clutches his chest, it was too cute.

-Now he wants in on it, so he’ll try learning how to do their moves too since he’s fairly good at dancing.

-He will bring up how he’s learned the same song you were listening to, and you immediately light up.

-Now by indulging it, he’ll practice with you in your room if you’re cool with it!

-You’ll be like “Oh wow, what a coincidence! Me too!”

-God forbid if you caught him accidentally going into your room.

-But it worked out!

-He does little gestures like when taking you to RAD, he’ll have your playlist on.

-Or you and the brothers go on a trip!

-He once brought you to a concert, you have very fond memories of that day.

-Don’t ask him where he got the money…

Leviathan:

-You like k-pop?!?! Omg him too!!! But don’t tell anyone…

-He invites you over to his room to lounge around and he has the music quietly in the background while you guys are talking or gaming!

-He’ll show you his hidden collection of merchandise.

-Exclusive clothing sets, albums signed, bottles and plushies of BTS characters because he finds them extremely cute!

-You get comfortable with him enough to dance when he’s around, he giggles and finds it endearing!

-Don’t ask him to dance though, he’s too embarrassed to do it around people. Even though, he is good at it.

-YOU were the one that caught him once, he passed out on the spot.

-No, literally he did.

-You never speak about it… 🧍

-Now you two can gush about it whenever you visit his room! Yippee!

Satan:

-He’s never heard of the genre, but now he’s curious!

-He loves your passion! So he’ll drop some books and magazines, and will do his own research.

-When he sees you dancing, he helps find you proper tutorials and will send you multiple links!

-One time, he had Mammon help to find you classes!

-He uh… “borrowed” Lucifer’s card.

-When Lucifer found out, it didn’t go well.

-BUT he allowed it because it’s you, now he willingly pays your classes. :)

-You and Satan run to the shops to get magazines and he listens and is fascinated by your knowledge!

-He’s a new fan, not a super fan, but he enjoys a few bands like Red Velvet and TWICE.

-Your psyched about it, and he’s happy to indulge you!

Asmodeus:

-He’s a huge BLACKPINK fan.

-He has their moves memorized.

-So when he sees you’re a huge fan seeing all the posters in your wall? He’s excited!

-Will actually be the one teaching you dance moves!

-You approached him once and spoke about learning how to do your favorite band’s dance moves, and he takes on the teacher mantle !

-Asmo calls you his number one fan as you improve your skills! 🥺

-He’ll be taking you to a few concerts! You go at least three times a year.

-You both have an album of memories you made of your classes and when taken to concerts.

-He brings you albums, makes sure to gift them to you on holidays, birthdays and special occasions!

-You have a big shelf of your growing collection. 💗

Beelzebub:

-The way he found out was when he was looking for you to invite you to lunch.

-He didn’t think a lot of it at first, until he started to see the variety of merch you wore.

-Beel asks out of curiosity one day, and you explain to him and show him videos.

-He’s really happy that you have so much passion and knowledge for it!

-Any chance you get, you give him an ear piece and you both take a listen.

-He doesn’t know much about k-pop but he can name some groups from what you’ve told him!

-One day he brought the idea of a cafe with meals themed after your favorite group!

-They made a small school event after Diavolo’s approval, and everyone loved it!

-Beel ate all the dishes they had in the menu…

-Of course, there was music too! And each of the brothers that were hosts were dressed as idols to match the aesthetic of the event!

-You had fun, and was touched by the idea that Beel thought of this for you (and his stomach…)!

Belphegor:

-Belphie found out when the music was too loud for his liking, he could hear it from his room!

-He slouched out of bed and trotted to your room with a grumpy look.

-You swore everyone was out besides Asmo, but you thought wrong.

-You were practicing Set Me Free by TWICE, and midway you jumped out of your skin when Belphie opened the door with a pout.

-He was taken aback by your reaction, soon apologizing and explaining how it was hard for him to sleep with the music in the background.

-You apologized as well, but he wasn’t as upset as he had a bit of guilt.

-He told you it’s okay and that you could continue doing what you were doing with the music lower.

-After that day, whenever you two are lounging around, you put your earphones on and at times he grabs a piece to have a listen too.

-He let’s you talk about your favorite groups, and doesn’t mind it!

-He once got you a hoodie as a way of letting you know he is listening. <3

.

.

.

Sorry for the lateness but hope you liked it, friend! 🫶

I had fun writing these, even though I don’t know a whole lot about k-pop either but some songs are cool! 😊

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader platonic #platonic hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[opennwindows]

HIII!!! Can you do masky as a father figure to emo/scene kid teens headcanons <33

A/N: OMG as i’m posting this i kinda realized i read the ask slightly wrong and wrote it as Dad!Masky with a emo/scene child and got carried away *sobs* but if this doesn’t hit the particular spot u need it to, i’ll totally rewrite it just for you!! just lmk and i’ll type away ( ◠‿◠ ) but i brought out my boy Suburban Dad Tim for this one.

Dad!Masky/Tim with a Emo/Scene kid hcs!

- tim’s a bit confused, but he’s got the spirit!!

- when he was in his teens he was around a bunch of trad-goth and punk friend groups, so he totally understands the importance of the alt community. i mean, dude was neck deep in mental trauma so he def wasn’t hanging out with the cheerleaders lol

“so i know this isn’t bring me the chemical romance or whatever, but this t-shirt is mine from highschool and i want you to have it. they’re called the cure-“

“dad i know who the cure is.”

“ohhh well aren’t you so dark and brooding.”

- will 110% pay for your hair dye and is always amazed with whatever styles you come up with.

- he can be quite sassy with his opinions though lol

“look, i’m just saying last time you did the blue roots with black hair it didn’t look like gerard way. it looked like gerard do not enter.”

“dad??????? what the hell”

- he’ll go to concerts with you pretending he’s just there to protect from a distance, but you both know he’s “secretly” vibing to the music. a true emo dad at heart.

- definitely will take vids to spam brian with.

- cannot understand scene genres like crunkcore to save his life though.

“why the fuck are they screaming over techno beats?????? put back on that pierce the veil band i like.”

- might have a mental breakdown when you ask him to take you to go get your first piercing though.

“YOU WANT A NEEDLE???? SHOVED THROUGH YOUR TONGUE???? slow down buddy, why don’t we start with a uhhh nostril or something.”

- he just wants to make sure that you can properly take care of it……. and he hates the thought of his little rockstar having to sit though any pain regardless of how small it is. will absolutely make fun of you if you cry after it though.

“haha you cried like a baby.”

“i got my septum pierced, it was a natural reaction”

“*already has brian on speaker phone* yeah dude they sobbed like a fucking LOSERRRR”

- you better pray no one dares to bully you at school, because masky and hoodie will be planning on scaring the compulsive normativity out of their boring teenage brains.

“dad why is brian by jacob’s car with a baseball bat?”

“don’t worry about it, he’s just gonna talk to him.”

“i’m literally watching him swing at the passenger side window-“

“it’s just a little chat, do you wanna go see a movie?”

- genuinely is invested in listening to all the emo band lore

“you can’t put the mcr poster next to your the used poster, why would you disrespect your wall like that?”

“i’m going to kidnap ryan ross and lock him in a studio myself if he doesn’t release some new music soon, i’m tired of hearing you cry about it every night.”

- tim knows how important it is to be fully accepted and loved for who you are growing up and he will fully embrace every part of it. he just really, truly loves you.

#masky headcanons #masky #creepypasta #creepypasta masky #masky x reader #creepypasta headcanon #tim wright #marble hornets #marble hornets headcanons #celia reqs #platonic #familial

[thedissenters]

The Majestic was a huge ballroom with a lovely shiny floor and a smallish stage at the far end. They had those metal barricades set up a few yards out in front of it. Big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Very fancy by our standards. We were all fascinated with the place. None of us had been anywhere like it. Everyone danced to piped-in rock and roll music, except it wasn't the kind of beboping we knew. Everyone (mostly girls) stood apart from each other (no hand holding) and just kind of shook their heads whilst maintaining very stiff bodies. We all copied what they were doing. The dancefloor was packed like sardines. Then party time! The Beatles came out onstage and nobody danced from then on. Everyone rushed up to the barricades. I was right in the front row, off to the side of the stage. The Beatles were full of fun and laughing and talking to the crowd. Then they started performing and I have to say it was life-changing for me. Fabulous live guitar music and the sheer camaraderie of the group were intoxicating. Plus that amazing ungreased clean hair swishing all over the place. For me it was love at first sight. I fell for John's friendly antics right away. I shouted "John! John!" And he looked right at me, laughed and shouted back, "What! What!" He was so much fun. I was so caught up in the frenzy that I threw a brand-new bracelet my mam had bought me out onto the stage and John picked it up. Later on, every time they were on TV my mam would point at the screen and shout that he was wearing it (fat chance). All the girls were screaming and going nuts. I was so crammed up against the barricade that it was pushing right against my solar plexus. That, plus the heat from all the bodies, made me very dizzy. It is the only time in my life that I fainted. Luckily, it was just for a few seconds, though. Someone told me to put my head down. I did, and then I was fine. I didn't want to miss a thing. The place went wild when they sang Twist And Shout. I'd never heard it sung by anyone before. It was the epitome of happiness for a lot of people. A definite natural high. It seemed that everyone was an instant fan. There was one gorgeous girl standing behind the barrier, front and centre of the stage - Meg. She was tanned, with long straight blonde hair. Beautiful. Apparently, she'd been with Paul the first time they were at the Majestic; and now everyone was watching the two of them flirting; all bedroom-eyes and smiles. I think she was with him again that night. Local girl. A looker. During the intermission we asked a bodyguard if he could get us some autographs. We'd all bought postcards with a black-and-white glossy photo of them on the front. So he collected them from a bunch of us. He disappeared behind the stage for what seemed ages. We thought he wouldn't come back. But he did. The postcard I got back was missing Paul's signature. (Maybe he was being distracted by Meg!) But that was OK. I was in LOVE with John. The group became so famous so fast it was unbelievable. I was now a teen so lovesick that I didn't want to do anything except fantasise about being with John. My mam bought the Please Please Me album for me. That was the start of the "lonesome blues" for me. I'd sit alone in the dark and play the album over and over till bedtime. I'd cry my eyes out when John would sing Anna (How could anyone break John's heart like that?). I remember when my doctor came to the house and saw all the Beatles posters on my bedroom wall. He said, "Good God, she's got Beatleitis!" ~ Frances Liane Preston

The Beatles 1963 - Dafydd Rees

#she's just like me 😌 #john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles #beatlemania #dafydd rees #the beatles 1963 #writty #june #1963 #***

[purlty23]

𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖆𝖌 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊 ✨

I saw this little fandom game thingie on another site and I really liked it, so I decided to bring it over here to tumblr while my apple pen charges. I’m also going to change up the rules. I’m going to list the fandoms I’ve been in, and classify them by:

Passive enjoyer = simply enjoyed it and the fan content made for it OR Creative enjoyer = actively made art, fanfic, cosplay, etc etc etc.

I’m going to tag people here but no pressure if you don’t want to do it! @miasmaghoul @lonelymentality @copiasjuicebox @iamthecomet @thediktatortot Also if you see it and want to do it, feel free.

Game under the cut since mine will be long<3

Harry Potter - creative enjoyer - My very first. This shit was a family affair in my house. I went to watch parties, themed parties. I cosplayed shittily, wrote shitty fanfic, and my walls were plastered floor to ceiling in teen magazine posters. Went to the Exhibition. Every second movie would come out in July so I would pretend it was like a birthday gift to me.

Twilight - creative enjoyer - Jfc. Don’t get me started. I still have my Edward action figure whose now missing both hands. Used to write self insert fanfic on quizzilla.com. RIP you beast of a website

The Walking Dead - passive enjoyer - This was also a family affair. Every sunday we would all gather round our shitty TV for the newest episode. I was more of a liveblogger than anything else. My dad has a bit to this day that ‘Hershel isn’t dead. He’ll be back.’ Yeah, sure dad.

Legend of Zelda - creative enjoyer - For most of my childhood I was passive, only really doodling Twilight Princess stuff sometimes. Then BOTW came out and it all changed.

Lord of the Rings - passive enjoyer - I look at Legolas and Aragorn. That’s enough for me. I don’t need creative works because I just need to look at them.

Marvel (Spider-man and Loki mostly) - creative enjoyer - I’ve been drawing these guys since birth, for better or for worse. MCU can suck my nuts but so can Loki franchise /sex DC (Batman) - creative enjoyer - Batman the Animated series did something bad to me. Now I draw Joker sometimes. Watch out, stay safe out there

Sherlock and Doctor Who - passive enjoyer - I’m putting these two together since I never really made fan art or anything, but I did attend watch parties for both on several occasions.

Supernatural - creative enjoyer - Sighs. Sighs even harder. Somewhere out there, deep in the depths of fanfic.net there’s miles of really really really bad fanfic. Somewhere…. Final Fantasy VII - creative enjoyer - Sighs far more dreamily. My favvvvv my ultimate fav. Sephiroth is my fictional other and LOMF. Many, many arts of him throughout every sketchbook I own. Also some fanfics IIRC.

TF2 - creative enjoyer - I used to draw Medic and Pyro kissing<3

Homestuck - creative enjoyer - War flashbacks. Not only was I a semi-well known fanartist, I was also a semi-well known cosplayer in my city. I was a ‘friendleader’ in my cities Homestuck fangroup and attended events, dances, etc etc etc. I was on a cosplay gif blog here on Tumblr. I ran the second most popular groupchat on MSPARP.com before it was MXRP.com. I had beef with mods. Most of my relationships at that time were forged in the fires of LOHAC. I still see my art of Dave in MCR black parade uniform around sometimes. Dramatical Murder - creative enjoyer - To no ones surprise. Yeah. I like the yaoi dissociation game. Dream Daddy - creative enjoyer - SHOUTOUT DREAM DADDY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Evil priest Joseph lovers rise UP. Didn’t do much, but there’s some art floating around out there.

Voltron: LD - passive enjoyer - Thank GOD I never made anything for this. However, I was active in the kin community so thats a huge L. I also ate uppppp stuff about it and sheith still fucks.

Overwatch - creative enjoyer - Sometimes you’re a Genji main and the world is so so hard for you. That’s how I used to live my life, then I got better.

Final Fantasy XV - creative enjoyer - Second LOMF. My old art blog is stocked full of chocobro content, mostly fanart of the boys and meme redraws. Also used to cosplay Noctis CONSTANTLY! Here’s an old tiktok

The Band Ghost and Sleep Token - creative enjoyer - (((((((: Hi guys

#Tag games

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

I absoltely loved the newest mob boys post and there teenage daughters can you do the mob boy’s reaction to their teenage daughters getting pregnant after sneaking out (poor Donnie’s daughter 🥲) (sorry for the spelling erors English isn’t my first language) thank you!

Love this idea for the Mob! boys, and yes, poor, poor Donnie's little girl

MASSIVE DISCLAIMER! Donnie's one will be dark as fuck, please do not read if anything to do with pregnancy is a trigger to you!

Mob! Leo

She's still grounded

it's been 2 months but she found her with a goddamn boy- not just /with/ a boy but in his *bed*

livid wouldn't even begin to cover how Leo felt

it took all his daughter's strength to hold him back from beating the living daylights out this teen boy who defiled his daughter

but something is different now

she's been quiet, not protesting when he gives her chores or sends her to bed. not even asking to have friends round when she knows she's grounded

he goes up to her room to talk, maybe she's been punished enough?

"Hey" she says softly, knocking on the door "what's up with you? you've been...distant"

she turns to face him, sat on her bed, and when she sees the gentle look on his face she can't contain it anymore

bursts into tears

"y-you know- you know Harry? The- the-the boy you found me with?..." she makes out between sobs

his mind returns to that night and he goes quiet. Angry again

"I'm sorry, daddy. I'm really sorry"

he doesn't get it at first, then she points to the trash can

he glances over and see's the pregnancy test box empty

he understands

the way Leo sees it, he has 2 choices: 1 scream. scream until his lungs bleed and she hates him forever or, 2 be there for his crying kid

he chooses the latter

he puts a stiff arm around her and she nuzzles into the crook of her father's neck, still inconsolable.

it's difficult to hide the shame, the disappointment, the anger....He had such big plans for her, now adding a kid to those plans? forget about it...

but he gets this one chance to show her that she can come to him about anything

it's going to be a long next few months...

Mob! Raph

His not-so-baby-anymore little girl is the light of his life

like, he's the proudest dad you can find

adores her, beyond words

so when he goes to tell her dinner is ready (without knocking, because it's his house and he can do what he wants) and finds her curled in a ball on her bed, crying and holding a positive pregnancy test... He loses it

screaming, punching the door, more screaming, ripping posters off her walls, did I mention he was yelling?

lots of "how could you be so stupid?" and "I raised you better than this!"

after about 20 minutes he calms down

it's nothing the daughter of this hot head isn't used to by now, but it's still scary for her

it's the look in her eyes that calms him the most- the look of fear as she clutches her stomach

a maternal sign

she wants the baby

"This motherfucker who knocked you up, he gonna stick around?" he asks

"I don't care if he does or not, fuck him! I've got you, don't I?"

a big sigh from Raph

"you've got me, kid"

he's not happy, how could he be?

but he knows she'll make a great mother

and he loves her too much, and is way too much of a pushover when it comes to her to be mad for too long

Mob! Mikey

He guesses she's pregnant

the morning sickness is a dead give away

he is Pissed, with a capital P

drags his daughter back to her room, any dolls or stuffed toys are ripped apart with his bare hands

"And this?" he hisses "What sort of mother had a ballerina jewellery music box? You're a child having a child! A stupid child at that! Insolent, pathetic and careless!"

none of this is yelled, his tone is almost a whisper

his daughter is crumpled down on the floor just weeping, waiting for storm Mikey to pass

"I thought I raised you better, I really did"

He leaves the house at that point, just walks straight past her as she sobs and goes to his brother's

they calm him down, a lot actually

remind him there are "options"

when he gets back to the house, he does say sorry

he knows he flies off the handle a little too quickly

he says he'll stand with her no matter what she chooses, but he knows what he would prefer for her to do

she sleeps in his bed that night, he holds his little girl and they whisper to each other until they both pass out

their relationship has always had rough patches like this but nothing they can't get through

Mob! Donnie

He knows

he always knows, he knew she snuck out, her knew she slept with that boy, he knows everything

so when she comes home to a seemingly empty house and goes up to her room, she;s in for a surprise

the room is liner with plastic sheets, like shower curtains, everywhere

the floor, the walls, there's a table in the middle of the room with a sheet covering something...

not something- someone

it's him, the boy, the one time hookup...

"oh fuck" she whispers

"oh fuck, indeed" Donnie's voice comes come behind her

"What did you do, dad? Is he dead?"

he smirks at that, which is dangerous. Only the worst kind of things amuse her father

"Dead? No. He wouldn't be worth the clean up. He just has a little... Procedure. To make sure he doesn't ever fuck up your life again"

she's confused, then he pulls out the positive pregnancy test you threw in a mall bathroom trash can last week.

How??? How does he always know?

"Now, darling..." He begins

((He never calls you darling, unless you're in deep shit with him))

"Are you going to be a good girl, and do what needs to be done? Or are you going to make daddy angry and disappointed all over again?" He leans in closer "I know which one I'd pick"

"I-I-I want the baby, dad" it's barely a whisper, mostly it's a plea

he tuts and shakes his head

"Wrong answer"

#the mob! boys #the mob boys #mob! boys #mob boys #the mob! dads #mob! dads #mob dads #the mob dads #mob! au #mob au #tmnt mob! au #tmnt mob au #mob! donnie #mob donnie #mob! mikey #mob mikey #mob! leo #mob leo #mob! raph #mob raph #dark #tw #pregnancy

[samkat10423]

Sunset Valley - again

Like many of you, I've been following @greenplumbboblover's Sunset Valley Chronicles - or whatever she's named it. (Old-timers' disease!). Which made me nostalgic for SV - probably my favorite town to play. And while I've been playing, I've been re-doing the lots. Because I can!

I moved the family in that multi-colored, hot mess of a house into this one. This was a remake of theirs that was done a gazillion years ago by @lilymayrose. You can see the original over on her blog - which is still active. Or at least up. (Lily's Sim Antics (lilyssimantics.blogspot.com).

Anyway, I did make changes - mostly to the outdoor landscaping. The original had a swimming pool in the backyard and since I have 3 pools in this frammin town, unless you are super rich like the Landgraabs, Altos, or Goths, I expect my lazy sims to use the public facilities. But back to my changes. I resurfaced the driveway and added that spot where the trashcan and bicycles are. Then I resurfaced the sidewalks, moved flowerbeds, and gave them a hot tub. (I'm not entirely mean!)

I didn't do a whole lot to the inside - because I liked her version. Maybe switched out some rugs and got rid of all the toddler junk - because I aged the rugrat up.

Anyway, here's the family - the Single Moms. Fiona has finally come out-of-the-closet and is currently trying her darndest to convince Molly that they should be exclusive. (Their lifetime relationship is around 41 - even though they are supposedly "girlfriends.") I'm guessing, hating your beloved's cookie-cruncher is not the way to endear yourself to the object of one's affections. River - the teen - just wants the 2 of them to keep it in the bedroom. (Fiona is big on public displays of her amorous desires). While the youngest - I forget her name - is just happy to not be living in a shelter. BTW, in my town, she is the product of a drunken one-night-stand that Molly had with that Alvi sim. (The reason his wife bailed on him). Right now, she doesn't know who her dad is.

Then I hopped next door and did a tiny make-over of Jaime's house. I basically tried to keep it as horrible as EA had designed it. I did get rid of their carport and made a new one - sort of an arbor thingie. Then - because the description says this is an Asian-Tudor mix, I added that new siding on the gables after re-doing the roof a tad. I also got rid of that extra front door and replaced all the windows and doors using B5Studios' Grant Park set.

Inside, I left all the wall finishes the way they were. Except for the bathroom. That one I changed. Anyway, I made the kitchen a bit bigger since that front door was deleted, freeing up space. Then I added those Grant Park screens in the dining area. I basically reused her furniture, although here and there I made a few changes. I did get rid of that spare bedroom, making it into an office, since all the doctors I work with, always take their work home with them. I also put up those posters by @kimmiessimmies, because Jaime has a major crush on the lead singer. And she is absolutely sure that if he ever met her, he'd dump that Sadie sim for her - because she is just that BEAUTIFUL!!!! And don't you forget it! Well, you can't because she reminds everyone she meets that she's beautiful and smart! But apparently not smart enough, because she got demoted at work when she bragged about her latest conquest - Thornton Wolff. (Seems her boss, Geoffrey Landgraab - a good friend of Morgana's - was not pleased.)

And here the little tart is! Basically, all I did was change her skin and hair and toned down her make-up. I did give her some new clothes, but some I kept because I don't like having a whole neighborhood of models walking around. And this outfit wasn't that ghastly.

BTW, she's set her sights on a new gene therapist who was recently added to the hospital staff. His family lives in a new house next door to the Keatons. But since he comes from a traditional Chinese family, his parents are having none of it. Like Yumi Sekemoto, they are looking for a nice Asian girl to marry their son to. So, that lets out Ms. Jaime and her BF Pauline Wan. They're on the fence about Tori whatshername.

#sims 3 #Sunset Valley #screwing up my sims' lives because I can!

[q-gorgeous]

What Will It Be? Chapter 10

ao3

fanfiction

@kinglazrus

oo boy

Dash was walking home from school a couple days later when he saw them. 

Mr. and Mrs. Fenton.

They were putting up missing posters of Danny. It was the same poster that Sam had slapped down on his desk a couple days ago. Today was Friday.

Danny had been missing for a week now. 

Kwan told him that the Fenton’s were looking all over town for Danny. That they were asking anyone they saw if they had seen him, heard from him, if they knew anything about where their boy was. Dash was lucky he hadn’t been stopped by them yet but as they turned to walk away from where they just hung up another poster their eyes slid over to him. They quickly crossed the street, Mrs. Fenton waved at Dash, and stopped in front of him. 

Mrs. Fenton smiled sadly at him. “Hi, Dash. We were wondering if you’ve heard from Danny at all? Have you seen him anywhere? Sam and Tucker say they haven’t seen him since last week. We’re starting to get really worried.”

Dash bit the inside of his cheek and took a step back. “No, uh, I haven’t. I haven’t seen him since we all went to the Nasty Burger last week. I’m sorry.”

Her smile fell and Mr. Fenton’s deepened. Dash’s heart clenched in his chest. “Thank you anyways. Please call us if you see him?” She held out one of the posters for him. He took it after a moment. 

“Sure. I’ll call you if I see anything.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Come on, Jack. Let’s go check Elmerton again.”

Together the two of them walked away. Their van was parked a ways down the street and Dash watched them get inside and drive away. 

That was the quietest Dash had ever seen Mr. Fenton. Usually he was loud, boisterous, obnoxious, and cheerful. But he hadn’t said a single thing. 

Dash stood there, staring off at the spot where the Fenton’s had been parked. He just lied to their faces. The nicest people he’s ever met. How horrible could he be?

He slowly turned and started walking towards his house. He couldn’t tell anyone what happened. No matter how broken Mrs. Fenton’s face was when he told her he didn’t know where Danny was.

It didn’t matter that Mr. Fenton looked completely grief-stricken. 

It didn’t matter that Dash never got to tell Danny how he felt. 

It didn’t. 

Dash stopped in place on the sidewalk. His hand crumpled the poster that he was holding. With sudden resolve, he turned around and started booking it down the sidewalk. 

His heart pounded in his chest and he was breathing heavily. He needed to say something. He couldn’t keep this to himself anymore. He couldn’t do that to Danny. 

He wouldn’t.

Dash turned around a corner and almost ran into someone. He kept running, ignoring their shout. He couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t let his fear paralyze him again. 

There! 

He ran the rest of the way down the street and to the building he needed to get to. 

Dash burst in through the front doors of the police station. The one he pushed open slammed against the wall behind him. His chest heaved and the man at the front desk looked up at him with a startled expression. 

“What’s the emergency?” He asked with a slightly annoyed tone. 

Dash’s chest was still heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “I need… I need to report… a kidnapping.”

The officer’s brows furrowed over his eyes and he gave Dash a suspicious look. “What are the details of this kidnapping?”

“I was on my nightly run when I heard something weird.” Dash gestured wildly with his hands. “When I reached the alley the sound came from, I saw the GIW walking out of it carrying one of my classmates to their car.”

“What day was this?” The officer started typing on his computer.

“Last week Thursday. A week ago.” Dash said in between breaths. 

“Around eight pm?” The officer asked. 

Dash stilled and he looked at the officer warily. “How do you know that?” He removed his hands from where they were resting on the counter in front of him. 

“The GIW came and reported an inebriated teen causing trouble. They said he was disrupting the peace and was shouting at them as they were carrying a bag of ecto-waste they needed to dispose of.” 

“That’s not what happened!” Dash shouted. 

The officer squinted his eyes at Dash. “You actually fit the description they gave us. You sure caused a lot of trouble that night. We need to call your- Hey!” 

Dash turned and ran back out the doors of the police station. 

What the fuck. What the fuck. They had actually gotten here before him. They actually covered all their bases. What if that officer reported back to them that Dash had gone to the police station to report what he saw? What if they came after him? They were going to make him disappear. 

There was nothing he could do. Why did he think he’d be able to do something? All he was was a teenager. He had no power. No one had any reason to listen to him. 

There was no helping Danny.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #invisobang 2023 #dash baxter #maddie fenton #jack fenton #swagger bishie #fanfiction #fanfic #phic

[inlocusmads]

chosen family ~ trystan thorne

One does not simply ask their friends how to go about a drastic career change. Unfortunately, Trystan doesn't receive the memo. (Pre-Crimes of Passion)

wc: 3k, teen+, strong language

a/n: Written for @choicesjanuary2024, prompt for day 27: "Explore a character’s path to enlightenment as they embark on a journey toward self-discovery and understanding."

banner credits: jack forrest on behance

2016

“Dude, I am telling you, Todd’s gonna blow his audition, he’ll come back whining and take up the job. You’re just going to have to give him some time to know he’s a shit actor.”

Trystan laughed, wiping off the crumbs from the corner of his mouth.  “That is so mean, man.”

Monty shrugged, handing him a straw for his soda. “See? Even the prince agrees.”

“Nah, I don’t believe it.” Lee said, hunching over the kitchen counter, while he waited for the oven to finish baking the bread. “The market’s pretty soft for anybody with brown hair.”

“That’s weirdly specific. What market have you been watching?”

“No, dude, like -- you know the other day, they had a casting call poster and they were handing that stuff out to the people in the ice cream shop. It’s like this - y’know how there’s this -- huge requirement for uh, reality show models and stuff - how news companies don’t hire people who aren’t blonde, shit like that. Brunette is the new blonde these days, y’know? And god bless if you’re a natural one at that.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All I’m saying is, Todd’s got a good chance. As equal as those freaks from drama schools.”

“You think I have a shot, Lee?” Trystan asked, toying with his can of soda. 

“Man, you’re already famous. It’s like asking one of the Kardashians to star in a fingernail commercial.”

“Nail polish.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they can sell fingernails.” Monty put on his best Valley accent. “I have been using Freddy’s Fingernails like, for as long as I can like, even remember.”

“Todd does impressions the best.” Lee informed Trystan.

“Jeez, go marry him or something.”

“I don’t think I want to be an actor.” Trystan shrugged. “Where would I start?”

“Playing mafia roles. They’re definitely looking for someone with a Russian accent these days. Or Italian. Italian’s pretty hot too.” Monty said, as he wiped the edges of the counter. “I have seen so many kids sitting at those very tables memorizing lines for advertisements. Ads are pretty wacky too, man. Anyway, it’s about fake it till you make it. I had one of my good friends, Dee who had a pretty short lived modeling career and was suggested to do some voice-acting because he had this uber-fake British accent. Dude actually spent three whole days on Youtube trying to learn a British accent and fooled the casting panel into thinking he was actually some dude from England.”

“I hope he succeeded.”

“Nah they didn’t take him after they learned he lied. Rookie mistake, you know? Trystan, my good friend, if you’re ever applying for a job, forge your birth certificates. Always.”

“Will do.” Trystan threw a two-finger salute his way. “Or you know - I could actually get a job here.”

“Pfft-”

“I am actually good at chopping.”

“With what? Gold knives with a flute of wine and cheese by your side, in case you get hungry?” Monty scoffed.

“I will pay you two hundred dollars.”

“To hire you?”

“Think about the publicity.”

“Okay, okay-” Lee interjected. “This is not some hobby, dude. Sandwich-making is an art form. People don’t come in here for just the thin slices of toasted bread, cuts of deli meat, special Himalayan chili sauce with a side of fries. No, they come in here for the experience. You’ve never seen something quite revolutionary like this. Yo-- wait, I’ll write this down.”

“Two hundred dollars everyday.”

“We will think about it.” Lee said.

“Nah, no - what if some economic shit happens again? Like you know the uh, dollar to whatever-currency-you-guys-operate-back-in-Palacetopia?”

“Drakovia, but go on.”

“Inflation. Economic crash. Wall Street babaganoush.”

“Did you not tell me you minored in economics?” 

“The point is, princey, the answer’s no. What if the money’s uh -- worthless or something, in like a hundred years?” Monty shrugged, as he grabbed a potato and peeled it. It was a new recipe under reception. Stuffed potato, baked and served with condiments around it and on top. A revolutionary alternative to salads, bowls and just about any starchy sandwich. Trystan watched with boredom as Lee tried to explain economics to him - occasionally pausing to express his disappointment (“How do you even pay rent with that knowledge?”) and encouraging Trystan’s offer. 

It was his favorite restaurant anyway - Paul’s was as welcoming as a grandmother who’d be tired of everyone’s bullshit and would much rather have you not knock at her door. Monty and Lee became fast friends; they didn’t mind Trystan being a celebrity or anything, considering Monty said he’d seen George Lucas near a coffee shop once and almost rented a place next to a diner that was frequented by Lady Gaga. Although those claims were widely disputed, Trystan didn’t mind this refreshing inattention for once. 

Sure, he was in the press a couple hundred times and charged with murder at the age of 22, but hey, Lee had done some wild shenanigans too. Such as cutting in line and smacking a person across their cheek, getting into table fights in the pub and spending a night in the local jail. Everything went on as usual, anyway, at least at Paul’s. There could be a national emergency that very second and they’d still be selling sandwiches and complaining about their landlords. A storm, a tsunami, a full blown out nuclear war and they’d be flipping coins over who gets put on bathroom duty. 

“I think I may have run into a technical problem. If I’m going to be stuffing a whole-ass potato in a sandwich, I might have to cut it up.”

“Hand it over.” Trystan insisted, wiping the crumbs on his jacket. 

“All right. Don’t mess up your pretty hands though.”

Lee punched Monty at the shoulder, hissing, “What are you doing?”

“He wanted chopping duty so I gave him chopping duty.”

“Contrary to popular beliefs, Lee, cooking is a basic human skill, like say learning to write or read-” Trystan set the peeled potato and aimed his knife at an angle. He cut across thin vertical slices - the shape of fries - optimal for a sub and across its breadth to make it more bite-sized. 

“I thought all you guys did in Drakovia was dressing up as vampires, doing a bunch of skull rituals and be all -- creepy and shit.”

“Oh yeah we do all of that.”

“Really?”

“He’s making fun of you, Monty.” Lee shook his head. 

“Drink pig’s blood-- dress like erm-- what is that store in America which sells all of those creepy, ghoulish things? Hot Topic, ah yes. They sponsored my kicking-out ceremony, by the way. We all drank the juice of giraffe’s tentacles - our expert DNA scientists managed to fuse a giraffe with an octopus - and ceremonially chopped off my head before gluing it back again. Seriously, Monty, I would expect better from an economics graduate. I can chop a potato. In fact -- there is this really beautiful dish from home that incorporates all of these things. Wait, let me remember it-”

“Not to burst your bubble, Your Highness, but we can’t really afford putting up a whole extra fusion cuisine on the menu.”

“Why not?”

“There’s dedicated restaurants for that stuff that ordinary chumps like us can’t compete with.”

“You could try something. It is not like you are getting anywhere with this --” he pointed nonchalantly at the one singular menu card they had for the whole place. “Here is a thought - why don’t I come up with nice, easy recipes? Something to draw in some crowd, you know?”

“The people who dine here aren’t exactly SoHo-rich, Trys.”

“Yeah, we’re lucky if we can keep the cops from the local precinct coming in. That’s why our egg sandwiches sell so well on Mondays. We can’t afford to topple up the menu entirely, ‘cuz it’s like uh-- it’s like we model what we serve after what sells well. More like a ‘Dish of the Day’ type thing, y’know? Demand’s pretty less. People just want to eat the same thing over and over again, yeah?”

“You could try introducing a bit of variety in this subtle, nuanced way whilst keeping the familiarity of the dish intact.”

“We aren’t trying to feed dogs their multivitamins, bruv. To hide asparagus and shit in like -- I dunno, eggs or something. But you know what? We’ll give you a shot.” Monty decided on his own, which should greatly piss off Lee but he didn’t seem that bothered with hiring Trystan as an intern recipe-developer. “If you can come up with something that’s quick to make, cheap and can sell like crack, we’ll take it.”

“Or I could just give you the money.”

“As if Monty’s going to make things that easy for you.” Lee shook his head. 

“Nah, nah, no, we aren’t accepting donations. This isn’t a charity. This is a goddamn restaurant with self-respect and shit -- oh damn, those are some neat potatoes. I'll take it all back. You’ve got some sick skills.”

“Why don’t you come on over and help us out with the bell peppers tomorrow?”

“I dunno - I might have a thing after this other thing-”

“You can pay us.”

“Gentlemen, you have a deal.”

“Some of us would kill to get some rest and look at this guy, eager to work and stuff. Is this a Communism thing?” Monty poked at the potatoes, before moving onto clearing up a pan and mounting it on the stove.

“Jesus Christ, Monty. Do me a favor and stop talking.” Lee scowled.

“You know, it is not exactly a bad question--” Trystan said, as he took his plate up to the sink behind the counter to give it a thorough wash. “I have thought about work, you know? All this time, it has just been this rat-race to get me to coronation day, but I have never really had this normal life where I could just do things at my pace with control of the quality of its outcomes. Might be a pretentious way of saying I am yet to have my Little Mermaid moment, with the whole growing legs and exploring the world quest, but yes, I think my idea of reflection and rest- or at least, some of my best ideas come from not lounging around and throwing a ball at the wall.”

“Get a cat and a laser-pointer. You’d never be bored. Also, dude, this is like the bottom-barrel of all jobs. You could totally be some actor guy.”

“I bleached my hair recently.”

“And a hack job at that.” Lee got on his tiptoes. “Looks like some guy vomited all over your head. But Monty’s not wrong. You’d be a shit actor without any formal training - or so the industry makes you think experience is everything.”

“That’s all the industries, Lee.”

“The point is, you could still look for something. Tons of people are famous for just being famous.”

“No, no-” Trystan shook his head. “I am not Paris Hilton’ing my way out of this. What do you think about writing?”

“Easier to have people write about you and get everything wrong than to have you write all the right things and not have people read it.” Monty shrugged. When he heard silence, he looked up from the pan of oil burning the fingers of potatoes and shrugged, again - “Read somewhere in a magazine or something, I don’t know. I mean -- isn’t that what they do, anyway? The tabloids?”

“Yeah, you lost me there, bud.” Lee shut him up quickly, shaken that his friend could say something so profound and controversial and not ruin it with a sarcastic joke. “Art historians get paid by the dozen, I heard.”

“I do have interest in art and history, but not so keen to make a career out of it. Maybe I should do something really ridiculous and run a circus. Embrace the clownery. Be the best buffoon I can be.”

“What’s with you two pulling off this existential shit?” Lee grumbled, as he took out the pizza from the oven to take home. 

“Something was in the sandwich I ate.”

“Pepper, salt, spice mix and dread.” Monty howled from the other side of the kitchen.

“I love me some good old dread!”

“My man’s one of us now!” he chuckled, walking up to them. “Yo, you should do the funniest possible thing and --” the snark from his tone faded into something serious - “- do community college. Seriously. Everyone expects some guy dressed in Barney gear in their language arts class, but nobody -- nobody expects a former crown prince to walk up with a number two pencil to figure out their career. Not too late to get into law school too. Funniest possible thing you can ever do, you know? Uh -- bonus if you get one of those really specific t-shirts.”

“That is not entirely a bad idea.”

“You could do politics and stuff man.” Lee suggested. 

“I have always been more of an Introduction To Pokemon and Subsequent Analysis of Its Impact 101 kind of guy.”

“Lee, stop ruining his career choices.” Monty elbowed his friend’s arm. “You are doing something right, princey.”

“I know, Pikachu is clearly the -- erm-- baton-holder for the next generation. A true inspiring idol for all of us.” Trystan agreed, as he took his seat on the high stool- watching Lee and Monty finish up their pre-requisites for the night to prepare for a busy tomorrow. “I have no idea who Pikachu is, by the way. Would it be possible to start a Youtube channel?”

“Breaking my silence on the coronation- not clickbait.”

“It’s a little too ambitious. Let’s start small.”

“You literally wanted me to send out an application for drama school not two minutes ago. I kept count, Lee. Not the minutes, but -- you get the idea.”

“I never said that, but you definitely should send out an application. Who knows? There might be a call for some dude who fucked up his hair with boxed bleach and like, the production could take a while - just enough time for your roots to grow back.”

“Get frosted tips and a Food Network show. Boom. Profit.” Monty punctuated his words by stabbing a spatula at the air with every passing syllable.

“Or--” Lee leaned against the counter, folded arms as if he were sitting his son, Trystan down for a birds-and-the-bees lecture. “You could really do something impactful. Right the wrongs, you know? With your influence and wealth, you could actually rectify a lot of flawed systems. You needn’t get into politics, but instead try and offer help to people who say, have been let down by the law enforcement. I know you’ve had tricky run-ins with them in the past and it goes to show how the whole -- conceptual conception-- words, words, words here, deserves a voice of reason. And not a lot of people can afford to do that. You can. Or at least, you can try.”

“Hold your horses, Mr President.” Monty paused. “What do you want to do, Trystan?”

“I dunno. The cat and laser pointer thing sounds really fun. Definitely helps me get off all the hit lists.”

“You’re on hit lists? Sweet. Also, yes, super fun. Orange tabbies - best rascals ever. I think the pet center nearby has some dudes up for adoption. Dogs and frisbees too - best. Get a German Shepherd and they’ll fuck up any one who dares to breathe near you within a two-foot radius.”

“Great, all sorted then.”

“I did not expect this conversation to go this way.” Lee threw a towel over his shoulder.

“Heck nah, nobody wants to get their brain fried trying to move up a ladder with missing steps. You know the rung you’re on and you know that exists. Nothing good comes out of skipping a rung and plummeting to your certain death.”

“Clearly we all have experiences of trying to move up and fucking it up-- What? I am not allowed to swear?”

Lee blinked like a deer staring wide-eyed at the headlights of a speeding truck. Monty gave him a toothy grin of approval. “You know what you’ve always wanted. Sneaky bastard.”

“Chopping is very relaxing, by the way.” Trystan offered them a knowing smirk, full of hopeful expectations. “So much can be done with just six precise cuts.”

“You’re persistent. Fine. You may contribute.”

“But this is no shiny-new-toy of the month, yeah?” Lee raised his knife midst sharpening it across a board. “You do this and show your commitment and sheer will and not just because-- apparently cutting these days, is the new purchasing-Dolce-and-Gabbana.”

“Oh man, we’re going to have so much fun.” Monty gave Trystan a fist-bump who returned it with a bit of confusion as to whether it was a high-five or not. “I mean, pissing off Lee is the only requirement.”

“I can kick you out, Monty. I’m already covering your portion of the rent for three months in a row.”

“He’s just jealous I have a new friend-- you’re just jealous!” Monty called out, to which Lee responded with a stabbing motion, as he disappeared far into the kitchen. “Yeah, totally jealous. Anyway, 9AM sharp, princey. Just because you’re exiled and your family hates you, there’s no exception. I mean, my family hates me and I’m still on the S Train by 7. Also, no Chardonnay bottles. Wear comfortable shoes. Get a hairnet. More instructions will follow. Also, this is like -- an interning thing- plus, we’re broke and we’d gladly take any free help, so you know. No pay, but we’ll cover drinks should there be a free Saturday that the Gods of Pardon-These-Clowns might grant.”

“Cannot wait to get started, man. When do the busboys get informed of a new addition to the Paul’s family? Or should we introduce ourselves?”

Monty glared at him.

“I am kidding! Kidding! So that is definitely a no on the gloves, right?”

“You are the suckiest, most pretentious guy I have ever met and thought about hiring. You’re a perfect fit for the job."

***

A/N: I HC Trystan made a lot of old friends in his exile period but at present doesn't talk to them as often as he should. I'd expect Monty to eventually quit being a cook and have enough funds to support himself through a certification course or some kind of education and Lee to maybe save up money to actually, professionally go through culinary school and get to work with top chefs. Todd's well, he's trying lol. He'll keep trying to become the next big star or something.

I hope to include more of Lee and Monty in any post-exile, pre-canon fics I write, which is pretty great because coming up with new characters has become a crippling addiction lmao.

Thank you so much for reading!

Tagging:

perma: @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @stars-are-within-me

crimes: @trappedinfanfiction @ao719 @cassie-thorne @peonierose @moominofthevalley @jerzwriter

#crimes of passion #crimes of passion fics #w:inlocusmads #trystan thorne x mc #trystan thorne #choices january challenge

[tf2-oneshots]

Dad spy trying to explain to scout that he is in fact his dad and not tom jones. Tomfoolery ensues. This is up to interpretation make of this ask what you will. Thank you, xoxo.

Using this as my first angst prompt sorry in advance!

Warnings: angst, abandonment, past bullying

Rating: Teen and up

Two dainty knocks land on Scout’s door. Must be Spy. When you work with the same eight guys for six years, you memorize how each one of them knocks on your door. Scout sets his comic book aside and sits upright on his bed. So much for a lazy Sunday.

“Come in.” He calls out. Spy opens the door, taking only a couple steps into the room. He peers around as if to ensure that no one else was present. She really wishes someone was here to avoid this.

“Scout, I would like to talk to you about something.” The door shuts behind Spy, but he doesn’t move. Like he’s frozen where he stands. God, how did her plan go? He thought of the millions of ways this could end, and only one was a good ending.

“Uh, okay? What is it?” Scout raises a brow. Usually, people only talk to him when he has a contract or did something wrong. On the rare occasion, its to move his motorcycle to another parking spot. Why does she look so emotionless?

Spy takes a seat on the edge of Scout’s bed. The man pulls his legs against his chest, giving her a bit of room. Everything feels so surreal. Maybe this is just a dream, and Spy will gasp awake in his bed when Scout throttles him. She really hopes it’s all just a dream.

“Tom Jones died in his 20s, Scout. You are aware of this, yes?” Off to a weird start. Scout prides himself in being the president of the Tom Jones fan club. He knows every single fact about the man down to the exact instruments he uses in every song. To not know how old his idol was when Merasmus broke his neck, according to the newspapers at least, would be unheard of.

“Uh, yeah. Too young to go if, uh, you ask me.” Spy nods. They can agree on that. Dying before 30 is tragically young for anyone, famous or not. She looks over to the younger man whose gaze is focused on a Tom Jones poster.

“Much too young. Too young to be your father as well.” He braces for a slap, but nothing happens. Scout stays silent. Maybe he didn’t hear her. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear. Spy takes a slow breath, back to staring at the wall.

“Scout, I…” It’s right there. Right fucking there on her tongue. He can taste the words begging to slip from his lips. Spy hates what a coward he is. She spent 24 years on the run, but the past caught up to bite her in the ass. Damn, does he wish he had a cigarette.

“I…met a woman in my youth. She had seven children, and I adored them. So much so that…we made an eighth. His name was Jeremy.” Damnit, damnit, damnit all! She always dances around with hidden meanings and half assed phrases. It seems that Spy’s own heart wears a mask.

“You…were that boy. Scout, I—“ As he turns to Scout, she sees the disgust on his face. His button nose scrunched tightly with eyes narrowed. Scout gets off of his bed, staring down at Spy.

“Don’t fucking joke about that.” His legs are shaking. Scout tries to breathe, but it’s short and trembling. How could Spy be so cruel to say that? Scout remembers how miserable being fatherless was as a child. He watched so many dads carry their sons into ice cream shops. He saw them in the stands wearing messy ties made in Home EC during sewing lessons.

It wasn’t just jealousy he suffered from. When word got out about Scout not having a dad, he was tormented relentlessly. He spent one Father’s Day getting shoved in a locker. That’s when he dislocated his shoulder and had to fend off an eighth grader with one hand. He really wishes his last oldest brother didn’t move on to high school that year.

“Scout, I have nothing to gain from a joke. You’re my son, and I’m so sorry for leaving.” Spy sighs, fighting the lump in her throat. She remembers the swarm of little boys around his legs, eager to meet their new baby brother. He still recalls sitting on the floor, chuckling as they surrounded him, leaning in to finally meet Jeremy.

“My dad’s dead.” That’s what Ma told him on his seventh birthday. Scout had grown curious as to why all of his friends had dads but not him. Not any of his brothers actually unless the handful of birthday cards in the mail counts. A couple with money and others empty without even a drop of ink written on them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, so I told your mother to say that.” It was heartbreaking how unfazed Caroline was when Spy told her. She had endured it seven times before, so how painful could an eighth be? The only part that stung, she admitted, was that Spy bothered to stay. Even if only long enough to witness Scout’s first steps, he gave Caroline hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else could commit to the parent role.

Scout turns away, fists clenched before he grips his hair. Ma would never lie to him. She’s a good mother, and she loves Scout more than anything. She’d be honest if his dad was a deadbeat who was in over his head. All of his older brothers know what happened to their dads. Dead, arrested, second family, ran off, and so forth.

“Scout, please, I—“ Spy stands, placing a hand on his shoulder only for it to be shrugged off. Scout keeps his head down to stare at his feet. He gulps, eyes shut to fight back tears.

“My dad is dead.” That’s the truth. That’s the only truth. Scout won’t listen to anything else. His dad died when he was a baby. There’s a headstone somewhere in America with his name etched onto it. Scout will never meet him no matter what.

“…Okay.” Spy purses her lips. He nods, trying to understand how Scout feels. Maybe one day he’ll come around. Maybe he’ll stab her in her sleep. He wipes away tears and takes a breath before leaving the younger’s room. Some things are better left the way they are.

Poor Spy can we get an F in the chat -H

#team fortress 2 #tf2 requests #tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #angst #bullying mention #abandonment

[salchat]

Your drawings are so good. When did you start drawing? I started drawing again during covid. I find it relaxing.

Thank you very much!

I used to draw a lot when I was little and early teens - fantasy landscapes and horses mainly. But studying art at school put me off and I switched my passion to music instead. I angsted over Mozart instead of boy bands, and would have had posters of him on my bedroom wall except you couldn't get Mozart posters.

Anyway, I did a bit of drawing/painting here and there over the years but didn't really get into it properly until, I think, just before Covid came along. I can’t really remember, actually. But I do know that in September 2020, when the kids went back to school, I wanted to study too, so I found a beginners' figure drawing course online - you had to draw stick figures over the sports photos in newspapers first and then transfer the stick figures onto blank paper. And at one point you had to draw one hundred ribcages from all different angles.

Alongside that I was drawing fanart for Stargate Atlantis and then the following September life drawing groups started up again and I wondered if I'd be able to draw real people when I'd done all my work from online sources up to that point. Well, yes, the skills transferred and I loved it, and still do. This is one of last night's:

Thank you for asking!

#art #fanart #life drawing

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

It's disability pridemonth, so it got me thinking on my internship at a school for physically disabled children again (it's been over a year holy shit).

I remember that, the day I got there, I had no idea what to expect and how to deal with anything. Well, not even because those children were disabled and I'd never actually met disabled people before, though that certainly played a factor, but by pretty much the entire situation. (I don't think the adults there were really equipped to handle a socially awkward teen on top of everything else either, to be honest.)

The second day a teacher-slash-more of a childcare worker i think? took me aside, spent time to explain everything to me, gave me specific instructions and after that everything went pretty well, and I learned a lot in those five days.

I unlearned a lot of my own internalized ableism, of course. Like the children who couldn't talk "properly" - they still understood everything just fine. It's really sad that I needed to see this to get it, but I'm glad I did.

I could barely understand that one girl, but man, she was fucking amazing at doing maths in her head.

But honestly, the most surprising thing about my internship?

The reactions from people around me.

I was asked so often if it wasn't hard, seeing all those disabled children.

The truth is, no. No, it wasn't. Because I got to know them in an environment that was made specifically with them in mind.

There were railings in child-height all along the walls, so the kids who had trouble with walking could still get everywhere on their own. Doors were automated and wide enough for multiple wheelchairs. The area outside was all flat and open, so all the kids, including those in wheelchairs, could play tag. There were always adults around to help them with whatever they couldn't do on their own, whenever they needed that help.

I saw happy children first, and disabled children second.

Of course they were disabled. Of course I know they'll never be able to have normal jobs, and lead normal lives, and many won't be able to live independantly. I saw a poster in a hallway in remembrance of a girl there who died. I know that this school and daycare was the only of its kind in a way too large area.

But I got to meet those children. I got to help them. I'll never forget the little boy whose hand I held to help him walk when we went to get ice cream with that one group of kids, and when he told me he loved me (children are the absolute sweetest). I'll never forget all of them just being kids, wheelchair or none, speaking or not (or with an aid, I'm not sure what it's called tho, sorry).

I'm so very glad I got an internship there.

And I'm so fucking infuriated that the world refuses to accomodate them even in small matters. I'm fucking mad that these children will grow up to be treated as stupid or lesser just because of a disability. These children are physically disabled, and they are children.

It's one of the most important realizations I needed to have, and I hate that it wasn't a given in the first place. I hate that society made it necessary to see.

Fuck ableism. We gotta fight for a future these children, and any disabled people - physically or otherwise - can live in.

If I used any offensive wording or anything, feel free to correct me, I'm trying and always open to learn more :)

#disability pride month #i tend to not think about disabled people that much bc it doesnt impact me personally #but i really should #our current system is a fucking nightmare #a biscuit's rambles #i really am trying to learn how to be an ally to disabled people so feel free to add whatever! #death mention tw

[cominginhotoffthepresses]

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Nancy used to love going to hospitals. In the same way she loved spelling tests and Sunday school, anywhere a grown-up might evaluate her on a dozen different metrics and not find Nancy Wheeler wanting in any of them, she loved hospitals. What a stupid thing, she thinks now, to have always expected everything to go well for her in a place people came to die.

Emergency rooms are loud, but Nancy finds herself wishing for the chaos of those first few minutes when they’re bundled into a waiting room and told that someone will let them know as soon as possible.

There had been a brief and terrifying burst of excitement when Steve, held together with adrenaline and gauze, twisted the wrong way and pulled his stomach back open. There’s a design flaw, Nancy notes, her hands overlapped with Robin’s pressed against Steve’s torso to try stay the blood, in the layout of the waiting room chairs. It’s difficult for the staff to get the gurney close. It takes too long. Steve gives them a thumbs up as he’s wheeled out, and Nancy files it away into the corner of her mind that takes problems, pieces them apart, and ruminates on them until she decides if there’s a story there or not.

“He’ll be alright.” Nancy says to Robin, whose hand is still in hers, to Dustin and Lucas in the chairs across from them, to herself.

“Eddie too.” Dustin says.

“And Max.” Lucas doesn’t look at her, but Nancy nods.

She echoes him. “And Max.”

Robin doesn’t let go of her. Nancy feels the blood cupped between their palms dry into a scab holding them together. Every few minutes, Robin squeezes her hand as if reminding her body that it is being touched, and Nancy feels the scrape of Steve between them. It’s a bio-hazard. She lifts her feet for the custodian who mops the floor beneath them half an hour into their vigil and flinches at the squeak of her trainers against fresh linoleum when he’s done.

The Sinclairs are the first to arrive. If Erica weren’t with him, Nancy is sure Lucas would pitch a fit about staying, but his arm has stayed wrapped around his sister’s shoulders. He deposits Erica into their father’s embrace, chuffs Dustin’s arm, and writes his home phone number on the back of a magazine subscription card falling out of a six-month old eWeek.

“You call me,” he hands Nancy the card. Both of their fingerprints stain the thick white paper, “the moment something happens, okay? The moment. I don’t care how late it gets.” Lucas’s father frowns behind him, but Nancy promises.

When she arrives fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Henderson folds Dustin into her arms without waiting for him to rise from his chair. Nancy watches him stiffen and melt in turn. Claudia Henderson has no apparent thought for anyone other than her darling boy and, “My gosh, what’s happened to you? We need to get you cleaned up,” brushes him up and out of the waiting room over Dustin’s protests.

Lucas has Dustin’s phone number, surely, or his walkie talkie if it isn’t lost somewhere in Upside Down. Getting Eddie out of there had kept them all too busy to take inventory.

Nancy follows the Hendersons by sight through the open door then the sound of Dustin’s placating down the hall until he’s been consumed by the low drone of hospital noise and she and Robin are alone.

Robin’s heels are up on the thin lip of waiting room chair, knees pressed to her chest. Nancy expected to field a thousand questions to slake the endless well of Robin’s runaway thoughts, but then, Robin hasn’t left her side. There are no secret answers Nancy might have found to give her, so Robin is quiet save for the occasional big breath, the sort that shakes her shoulders and usually precedes a sob but comes with a squeeze of her hand.

The poster on the opposite wall, visible now that teen heads are no longer blocking the way, is of Redwoods. Below the trees in block type, the words ‘Growing Together’ attempt to perk up the place. Max has probably seen Redwood trees on her way from California to Hawkins, Nancy imagines. She should ask her about them if it wouldn’t be too strange coming from her friend’s older sister. She wishes she’d gone with Mike now, to see them herself.

“Do you think it’s really over?” Nancy startles at the question. Robin doesn’t turn to look at her to ask it, still staring into the middle distance in front of them.

Nancy’s thoughts turn again to Max, to the last time they’d sat together in the wake of a disaster and the almost end of the world, the time before that, and, “No,” Nancy says. “No, I don’t expect so.”

At first, Nancy thinks the sound Robin makes really is a sob this time. She turns in her seat, ready to put a hand on her shoulder, tell her the old lie about everything being alright in the end despite the spiral they’ve been heading down since Mike stashed a girl in their basement, the fact that Nancy isn’t sure it’s ever going to be over for any of them whether Eleven shows up to close the portals for good or not, and sees Robin’s head tipped back, face scrunched as she tries and fails to keep from giggling.

It would be cute if it weren’t horrifically inappropriate. It’s still, Nancy steadies herself and glances around to make sure no one is paying them any attention, quite cute.

“Jesus H,” Robin wheezes. “You’d think at some point all the freaky mind powers would be enough, right? Like, is evil a gas, filling whatever space we put it in, or what? Maybe if we took the superpowers out of the equation things would actually calm down for a minute.”

“I don’t actually think El has her powers anymore, so we might just be screwed.” Nancy catches a laugh in her throat. She feels the prickle of Robin look at her, the tension in their clasped hands. Nancy meets Robin’s eyes for only a moment before Robin’s giggle turns into a guffaw and just as quickly descends into the sobs Nancy has been bracing for all along.

If Nancy could cry now, she doesn’t know if she would remember how to stop. Tears are, always have been, an indulgent all night affair, but Robin’s crying is silent. Her tears dry up quickly, but Nancy doesn’t let her go.

They sit together until a woman with a clipboard elbows through the double doors marked ‘Hospital Personnel Only,’ and asks for the Harrington family. A pang of guilt burrows into Nancy’s stomach; she hadn’t even thought to call them, but Robin is already standing. Robin lets go of her, Steve flaking to the linoleum between them, and sure, Nancy thinks. That makes sense.

on ao3

#ronance #eventually #nancy wheeler #stranger things #fic #robin buckley #cominginhot #character study of a sort #steve harrington #is there but not There there

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 16 /?: Shopping and Secrets

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15,

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

Jason frowned, opening and closing the door to the old house. The other kids had run to get more supplies, leaving just he and Luz at the house, looking for traces of magic that weren’t there “Run me through why it has to be here?”

Luz pinned a poster of the portal door up on the wall. “It’s always been here. If any spot is going to make a portal, it’s going to be this one.”

“Is it place-based? You said the old door used titan’s blood, so surely—”

“Well it’s my only lead,” Luz burst out.

Jason shut the door with a quiet click. “Luz?”

She rubbed her arms. “I had all of these notes, back in the demon realm, and I had access to materials that I just don’t have here. This is my only connection to ANY kind of magic! I don’t know anything about trying to build a portal from this side, Phillip’s journal—” She cut off, glaring at the ground.

A chill ran down Jason’s spine. “Phillip’s journal?” he echoed, “You had…”

“I should have realized. I mean, the British accent in the journal, the oozing admiration for the isles that matched Belos at that stupid parade, the fact that Belos even knew the portal existed and wanted it in the first place—”

“Whoa—Luz, it was just a journal, it had information you needed, there was no WAY you could have known that a journal from four hundred years ago belonged to the current emperor. Unless…” she’d been awfully cagey last night about the Collector… “Luz, did the journal say… how he met the Collector?”

Luz’s eyes darted around the house. “Haha, whaaaaat?”

Well, that all but confirmed it. “It just seems like… the kind of help Uncle would have used to build his portal. Luz, if you went looking for the collector to help you build your portal I—”

The door handle turned, and Luz pushed past him on the way to meet the rest of her friends. “HEY! You’re back, awesome!”

I understand, Jason finished in his head. Uncle Belos must have had contact with the Collector for CENTURIES, based on Steven’s sigil experience. Even if Luz had gone looking, it wasn’t like she’d been the one to free them, it had been that other kid, King. And if she had gone looking, then so what? She couldn’t have known what the Collector was capable of.

I’d free an eldritch deity myself if it meant I could get back home right now.

Well. Probably not actually.

But still.

Flapjack fluttered from Hunter’s shoulder to the ground, pecking at the floorboards. Willow, Gus, and Amity all plopped down on the floor, drawing faces on pieces of paper. Gus offered a piece of paper to Jason. “We’re drawing our families. Do you… want to draw Phoenix?”

Jason took the piece of paper, but shook his head, turning it over and over in his hands. “I don’t think my family will all fit.”

Luz wordlessly handed him a bigger piece, like the one she’d drawn the portal door on. Jason gave in and sat down, pencil tapping on the page.

An eyepatch

A hand missing a few fingers

A poof of unruly hair that somehow managed to store things

Constantly dirty, a patient smile.

Jason sketched face after face, his fingers trembling on the pencil. He offered a pencil to Hunter. “Do… they’re your family, too.”

Hunter took the pencil, but he didn’t sit down next to Jason. “Not the way they’re yours. I don’t… I didn’t know them. Except Phoenix, I guess.”

Jason pointed to one of the figures. “That one’s Cherry. He’s the second oldest, but he’s been there so much longer than Phoenix that he’s kind of more like the oldest.” He sketched another face. “This is Auric. He got really into healing, he doesn’t have magic, of course, but he’s pretty good at medicine, and stitches and stuff.”

He continued to show Hunter each of them, acutely aware of Luz, Willow, Gus, and Amity watching over his shoulder. A blossom of warmth sparked in the hollow pit as he talked, pointing out each of his family members and saying a little bit about each of them.

“Which one’s that?” Luz asked, pointing to the final person, the one with the patient smile and face smudged with dirt.

Jason’s stomach dropped. “Mole,” he said quietly, fidgeting with the corner of the paper, “He’s… my best friend. He likes to garden, and he’s a great listener. Even though he never says anything, he always knows how to make you feel better. I… before I left, I promised him I’d be back soon.” Jason got up, pinning the paper to the board under everyone else’s picture. “And I will be. We are going to build this portal, and we are going to see all of these people again.” He nudged the picture Amity had drawn. “That’s your sister? The healer?”

“Emira,” she answered with a smile, “Do you think she and Auric would get along?”

“I bet my dad would like Silver,” Gus piped up, “He likes dumb jokes, they always make him laugh.”

“I’d like to meet Mole,” Willow chimed in.

“He’d love to show you the garden,” Jason confirmed, “And he will. Because we’re getting home.”

Luz nodded. “So let’s start brainstorming. We don’t have any titan’s blood, what are our other options?”

Gus tugged out a golden earring set with a blue stone. “I picked this up from Greye. He called it a magic amplifier, and based on the way he was obsessed with finding galderstones, I’m guessing the stone is a piece of one. They amplify magic, do you think we could use it to make a portal?”

Willow snapped her fingers. “Hunter, your teleportation. It moves you from one place to another, how does that work?”

“I—you know, it’s always been something I’ve just done. But it’s sort of like bending one place to another? Folding two points next to each other, eliminating the space in between. If it was that easy to go between dimensions, though, someone probably would have done it by now.”

“What about with the galderstone?” Amity suggested, “It amplifies magic, it might make your palisman magic strong enough

Jason frowned. “Would he be able to take us with him, though? What if he gets stuck in the demon realm and can’t get back?”

“If I can get there that way, I can probably get back. I could find some titan’s blood, maybe? I could get titan’s blood and come back and we could build a portal. Or, you know, I could try to build one on this side.”

“Would you be able to get titan’s blood?” Amity interjected, “There wasn’t exactly a lot of it lying around when we were there last.”

“King,” Luz said softly, “King’s a titan. I…”

“King is a WHAT?!” Willow yelped.

Jason dropped his pencil.

That demon kid was a TITAN?!

“Yeah—Yeah, King is a titan. If Hunter found him… I mean, obviously don’t be like draining his blood or whatever, but—”

Jason shook his head. “Absolutely not, last we saw King, he was with the Collector. You want Hunter to go on a solo rescue mission against that?”

“I could get Phoenix, too,” Hunter suggested quietly.

Jason whirled around to face him. “Do you think I don’t want you doing it just because I don’t have personal stakes?! Hunter, he killed Uncle Belos with a flick of his finger, do you have any idea what he could do to you?!”

Hunter took a step back, eying him, and Jason realized that his fists were clenched. He took a deep breath, relaxing his muscles. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just… the Collector is powerful, and I’m nervous about you going without any way to contact us. We’ll get them back, both of them. But we’ll do it together. Not by sending you into the slitherbeast’s den alone. Is there anywhere else we might be able to find titan’s blood?”

“I don’t know if there is an anywhere else on the isles anymore,” Gus said gloomily, and everyone went quiet.

Hunter took the earring from Gus, holding out his hand for Flapjack. “Look, I’ll just try it. I’ll come right back if I CAN do it, and then if I can’t, no big deal.”

Before Jason could say anything else, he disappeared in a flash of gold

Only to reappear in the same spot. He shook his head, then disappeared again. Reappeared.

Hunter handed the earring back to Gus with a sigh. “I guess it was a long shot anyw—”

There was a scratching, a banging, and then a creature burst out of the wall, tearing through their picture of the portal door. It had a long, snakelike tail, and a terrifying snout of sharp teeth, a pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. It hissed, and Jason scrambled out of its way as it bolted across the floor, chased by a chirping Flapjack.

“What is that?!”

“’Possum,” Luz said casually.

“Those are urban legend!” Hunter protested.

“So are time pools,” Jason reminded him, “Yet, here I am!”

A wince from Luz.

What is up with her and the time pools?

Luz tapped her chin. “I think we might have been onto something with the palisman. Even without it being Hunter’s teleportation, palisman have a lot of magic, right?”

Jason flinched.

That’s for sure.

Hunter’s hand went up to his palisman. “What are you suggesting?”

“We could find a way to harness their magic, I bet. We just… have to figure it out. Back to the drawing board.”

“Mija?” Camila poked her head in, wrinkling her nose at the hole in the wall, and stepping gingerly around the nails sticking out of the floor and walls. “What happened?”

“Possum.”

“Ah. Please, please, please be careful about the animals, I don’t think your friends have had rabies shots. Hey, I was thinking we could get you guys some new clothes today?”

Luz glanced back at the busted diagram. Amity took her hand. “We’re not going to figure it out in one day,” she said quietly, “And we could probably use a change of clothes.”

Luz nodded, and they all marched back after Camila, who clicked a button on a set of keys.

The metal carriage in the driveway beeped and clicked back.

Gus yelped, clinging to Willow, who bravely put herself in front of he and Hunter. Jason snatched up a stick, gingerly poking at the carriage. It didn’t respond, didn’t growl, or give any other indication that it was alive.

Vee put her hand on Jason’s, pushing the stick down. “Okay. This is a car. We’re going to take a ride in it. It isn’t alive, but it does move on its own, without anything pulling it.”

“I got a magazine full of pictures of them once,” Gus said almost reverently, coming out from behind Willow to gingerly lay a palm on the ‘car’s shiny surface, “I thought they were just statues!”

“How does it move if it’s not alive?” Willow asked skeptically, “Is it like the blimps back home? But I don’t see any boiler, and you made it respond to your clicker!”

Jason tapped his index fingers together. “Novus made these wind-up toys that were full of gears that made them move. Is it like that?”

“Uh… sort of like both of those things?” Camila tried, “It’s… it’s a lot of machinery, and fuel, and… it’s not dangerous, not if you’re a safe driver, I promise.

Vee opened the side of the ‘car,’ and after looking at each other, they all climbed in, squeezing into the seats. Camila put one of her keys into a little panel and turned it.

The car rumbled under Jason, not entirely unlike sitting on a purring griffin, and Camila slowly backed out of the driveway.

And then they took off. It didn’t feel like they were going fast at all until Jason looked out the side window and saw the side of the road passing them in a blur. He gripped the seatbelt, knuckles pale, until they came to a stop in a huge stretch of black pavement, divided into little boxes by white lines.

“How far did we go?!”

“I don’t know, a few miles?”

“That fast?! It was only a few minutes!” Jason paced around the outside of the car. The face of it was warm to the touch now. “How do you work?” he murmured under his breath.

“Hey, Camila!” A man waved, putting one hand behind his head sheepishly. “Uh, seems my car battery is dead, any chance…”

“Again, Dave?”

“I’m going to get it checked out, I swear, I probably need a new battery, I know. I’ll drive straight to the nearest auto shop, I promise.”

Camila shook her head. “Alright, you guys run inside and start looking, I’ll be along in a moment.”

Jason hung around, watching as Camila drove her car closer to Dave’s, which was cold and still. Camila pulled a lever in her car, and part of the car popped, startling him. Camila opened up the car, exposing a mess of wiring and metal. Jason poked his head under.

“Whoa. Hey what does—” He smacked his head on the lid of the car as he pulled his head out. “—ow—what does all of that do?!”

“Uhh… I mean, I don’t know about the exact mechanics of everything in there, mostly it makes the wheels turn.” Camila dug a couple of long cords out of her trunk, red and black. “Here we go.”

Jason stuck his head back in to watch her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to transfer a little bit of electricity from my car to his.”

“Won’t that kill our car?”

“No, no. It’s not an exact… I’m just sort of giving his car battery a little kick to get it going. Like shaking it awake. It’s not going to hurt our car at all, and the battery charges as we drive anyway.”

“What are the cords for?”

“They’re called jumper cables, and they transfer the electricity.” Camila clipped the red clamp to Dave’s car, then to hers. “Red goes on positive, black goes on negative.”

“…What?”

“Right, uh, so, this box looking thing? It’s a battery. One side is positive and the other is negative. The cables are very specifically designed. Red goes to the positive side, black goes to the negative side.” She clipped the black cable to her battery, then to Dave’s. “Jason, could you turn the key in the ignition for me?”

Jason hopped back into the car, gingerly wrapping his hand around the key and turning it. The car hummed under his touch.

I did it!

Dave’s car coughed and came back to life, and Camila gave Jason a thumbs-up. He turned the key back the other way, and the car turned off. Camila undid the jumper cables, and Dave drove off with a wave and a thank you. Jason turned the key again.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

Camila poked her head in. “Oh, just pull the key out once the car’s off.”

Jason removed the key with a frown, peering at the, what had Camila called it, the “ignition?” “How does the key make it work?”

Maybe if we can figure out how THIS works, we’ll be able to figure out how the portal key worked to power the door!

“Uh… it just sort of… does… It just starts the engine…”

“How come we could start his car with ours? They’re not the same kind of car.”

“I mean, the batteries are similar, it’s all electricity. Hang on, here.” Camila opened a hatch in the passenger seat and handed him a little book.

Owner’s manual.

“I think there might be a few books on circuitry and engines back at the house, Luz’s dad was… If you’re interested in machinery, I might be able to help you get started.”

Jason followed her into the big building nearby, reading the manual for the car. It wasn’t anything like the human realm books he’d read before about adventures and heroes, it was more like Sam’s heavy books on the theory of wild magic and glyphs. Still, it almost seemed impossible.

Anyone could learn how to use this.

He’d been able to turn on the car with no training, easy as that. And he was willing to bet that all of the strange metal boxes in the Noceda house would be equally easy to use. Nothing like the magic he’d never been able to make work.

Makes sense. They don’t have magic to use here, they had to come up with another way.

What would it have been like, to grow up in a place without magic?

The door hissed open in front of him of its own accord, and he jumped. Camila put a hand on his arm. “Just an automatic door. It’s safe.”

Jason eyed it.

Door.

Doorway.

Electricity used to open a door.

Palisman energy opens a door?

“I need to know how it works,” he announced.

Camila laughed. “Okay, ask Luz to show you how to use the internet later. For now, let’s just focus on getting you some clothes without rips all through them.”

The kids already had armfuls of clothes, and were popping in and out of the changing room by the time Camila and Jason found them. Hunter kicked the door opened dressed head to toe in some kind of bird costume, and a laugh burst out of Jason’s throat.

“What is that?!”

Hunter sniffed, tilting his face up and away. “High fashion.”

Jason tugged on the hood of it, pulling it over his face. “Awwww, you look like your palisman. It’s cute.”

Luz nudged Jason’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s find something for you. I’m sure we can rustle up a matching bird onsie.”

Jason shook his head, but followed her. “Hey, Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“About what we were talking about earlier—”

“Oh, look, here, I bet this’ll fit!” She dumped a couple of pairs of pants in his arms.

“Luz. Hey.”

She shifted from one foot to the other. “Yeah?”

“What’s going on with you? What’s wrong?”

“You mean other than the fact that my friends are all trapped away from their home, I left King with that thing, and I don’t even know if Eda’s okay?”

Jason winced. “Yeah. Besides that.”

“Nothing. Nothing at all, why would you ask that?” Her voice rose in pitch as she spoke until it was a squeak.

Very convincing.

Jason sighed, picking up a couple of solid-colored shirts. “Luz. Look. You’re… kind of a horrible liar.”

“Hey!”

“That’s not a—Luz, I just… you’re a bad liar, and the fact that you’re being so dodgy about this is… whatever it is you’re hiding, my brain is probably making up much worse scenarios trying to explain why you would be avoiding the topic like this. So please, please. Just tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is.”

Luz sighed, the fight falling out of her in a whoosh of breath. “Hunter and I… when we were in Belos’ mind…”

Jason couldn’t quite describe how he knew, he never could describe the shifts in people’s tones and moods and demeanor that clued him in to where he stood, but Luz’s whole being seemed to change. Her resignation shifted to cunning and slyness. Not necessarily in a malicious way, he thought, but he knew that the next words out of her mouth weren’t going to be the truth. She would hide whatever was bothering her from him for as long as she could manage.

“I should have done a better job warning King about the Collector. I knew they were dangerous, and if I had warned him, then maybe… maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Even though he knew it wasn’t the whole truth, something about it rang right. She was upset about something about the Collector being her fault. It just wasn’t that in particular. Jason nudged her shoulder.

“I mean, we’d all be dead if it weren’t for the Collector. I don’t think I can emphasize enough that Uncle Belos would have killed us all, and the whole isles with us.” Jason sighed. “It’s not… great… that he’s out. I’m worried about everyone at home, and I know you are, too. I wish that we’d never ended up in this situation, I wish Uncle Belos had never found them. But King did what he could in the moment to save us, and… that has to count for something, right?”

Luz shrugged. “Does it?”

Jason nodded, picking up a jacket. It was checkered in black and red, with a grey hood made of another material. There was so much variety in this store, and so many identical versions of the same thing that simply changed a size. He quickly discarded a skirt on discovering that it had no pockets, but picked up a vest made from wooly, warm material.

“I mean, look. I would way prefer if Belos had never hurt anyone in my family. Of course I would prefer that! But… if he hadn’t, I never would have met any of them. I wouldn’t have Mole, or Mom, or Dad if Belos had been… good. So, I… I don’t know. I’m not saying I should thank him for what happened, but… I can recognize that some good came out of all the bad that happened.”

“Is it worth the good? Really, Jason? If someone’s done something so bad, so horrible and ruined so many lives through their actions, even if they believed they were doing the right thing, is it worth whatever tiny piece of good they might have achieved along the way?”

Ohhhhhhhh we are not talking about Uncle Belos anymore.

Jason hissed out. “Ah… I mean, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Whether it was ‘worth’ the good things, I mean. Measuring actions in how much good or bad they do isn’t always the best option, especially after it’s done, justifying everything you do, justifying your existence is… it’s a slippery slope. At the end of the day, the bad thing happened, and we can’t change that. You can’t ignore that a bad thing happened, but you can also find good things in it that… they don’t fix what happened. They never do. But they can make the bad thing just a little easier to bear.”

Luz stared at him blankly, and Jason rolled a hand. “A… a bit ago, Phoenix kind of accidentally caused our dad to fall off of the roof. And I told him… I mean, it happened, and he couldn’t change that. There wasn’t a lot he could do in the moment, either, sure, maybe there were some things he could do that would have changed the outcome, but overall… it just kind of happened. What he did after was the important thing, yeah? What he did to help fix his mistake and help Dad was the thing that mattered. Bad things happen, sometimes we do bad things, whether accidentally or not. And we can’t take them back. The best thing we can do is… try to make up afterwards and try to do better in the future.”

Luz ‘hmph’ed. “And if Belos showed up today and apologized for everything and really wanted to make up for everything he’d done, would you forgive him?”

Jason’s gut clenched.

You always were my favorite of all the Grimwalkers.

Jason twisted the fabric of a shirt in his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t…” He set down the pile of clothes, putting the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Rrrgh.”

Focus. This is about her, not Belos. It doesn’t matter how you feel about him, treat it like we’re talking about her directly and not through this weird metaphor.

What would Dad say?

Jason put his hands back down. “I don’t know, Luz, I really don’t. But even if I didn’t forgive him, I mean, on his side, would it matter? On his side, he’d just need to make up for what he did. I don’t know if he ever could. But if he did, it doesn’t MATTER if I’ve forgiven him. That’s on me. That’s about my feelings. What would be important for… Belos… is that he do what’s necessary to fix what he’s done. Whether I forgive him afterwards or not.”

“Mm.” Luz picked up his pile of clothes. “Thanks, Jason. That… helps.”

Did it help enough?

“Yeah. Anytime. And if you need to talk to me about how… King… let the Collector out… Just let me know?”

She gave him a long look, searching his face. And for a second, Jason thought she understood. For a second, he thought she was about to tell him what was really eating her. But then she just nodded, and turned away.

“Yeah. Okay.”

#toh #the owl house #gilded family au #toh fanfiction #my writing #luz noceda #the golden guard