#mama shirley

[mariatesstruther]

Okay but what about hairDresser!maria?

Sarah is growing up and starts to get more vain with herself, and tommy notices she's having a hard time with her hair. So after he picks up the girls from school for joel, tommy leads all of them to the salon and that's where they meet maria. Man just imagine maria giving sarah all the tips for her hair and trying different hair styles🥺Maria focusing on braiding sarah's hair and trying to ignore all of tommy's flirt attempts lmao. And cute little ellie asking for braids too awwwwwwwww

we LOVE hairstylist maria over here!!!! i could’ve sworn i made a hairdresser au already where tommy takes sarah to salons and maria teaches her to do her hair but i cant find it 😭😭😭

i do imagine that as sarah grows up past like 4-5 and realizes her hair is different from most people around her, she’d be less vain and more self-conscious (i really doubt you meant vain in that way so don’t worry about it, im just sensitive to language regarding black little girls and their hair). austin texas in the 1990s-2000s was only about 10% percent which isnt bad, but i know from growing up in a predominantly white area that it heavily impacted how i saw myself and my hair.

i LOVE the idea that tommy and joel would put extra effort, as much as they could, into making sure sarah’s hair is loved and taken care of. i love the idea that maybe they start taking her to the salon as soon as she’s old enough, like 3-4, to sit in a chair long enough to get herself and her hair pampered

so here’s some actual plot: maybe sarah has a regular hair stylist that she’s gone to since she was literally 2, mama shirley (HEY MAMA SHIRLEY LETS BRING U INTO ANOTHER AU). unfortunately mama shirley is getting older, her hands not as agile and quick as they used to be, and she tells the miller boys that she’s planning to retire soon. they’re both pretty anxious about it because sarah like routine and sameness, and getting her hair done is already enough of a feat for her with all her sensory issues, which mama shirley always accommodates for. luckily, mama shirley assures them she’s found a brilliant replacement that’s she’s been training for months

when sarah meets maria, it’s like the little girl is meeting an in real life princess. maria has long, long, long locs that go all the way to the back of her knees, some streaked blue and purple and pink—all sarah’s favorites. maria has gentle hands and rounded nails that feel good when they scratch at sarah’s scalp in the washbowl, just like mama shirley’s. she has a whole punch of stim toys and fun charms on her locs, necklaces, and bracelets that she lets sarah reach up and play with while she works.

she talks to joel and tommy about their life with her and how she’s doing in school and how they take care of her hair at home, making gentle suggestions here and their based on her own experiences growing up as a black girl in a predominantly white area—fuckin’ omaha, nebraska. she lets joel and tommy step in and try whatever she’s doing with sarah’s hair. tommy, bless him, is so nervous and into her that his hands are way clumsier than usual. luckily, his poor attempts just make her laugh and place her hands next his to show him how to smooth out sarah’s hair correctly, without flicking the product all over himself and his shirt

she remains sarah’s hairstylist for years, and tommy falls in love with her slowly at first, considering he only really sees her once every four weeks. eventually he starts going in for his own hair, then offers to do free repairs for the salon—then, finally, maria pulls him into the back room one day and says “ya know, miller, you don’t have to work here to spend time with me. you can just ask me out.”

“i—i can?”

“you can. you’ve taken long enough.”

“i—uh. alright. sorry to keep you waitin’, ma’am. dinner? tonight?”

“dinner sounds good :)”

gonna tag my hair babies @boilingcowboy and @clickergossip bc i feel like they’d appreciate this idk and i feel like rose may be the only person to remember my other hairstylist au 😭

#and then they make out in the backroom and all the stylists in the front are like yeah we been knew #anon THANK U THIS WAS FUN #sarah would love love love love her salonists and they would alk be obsessed with her too #she comes in the weekend before her bday to get her bday hair done #and not only does maria refuse to let joel pay she gives them like 3 months worth of free products #and they have cupcakes and gifts for her #maria gets her a radio and some signed cds like brandy destinys child bc shes been to concerts #mama shirley visits and gives her silk bedsheets and pillow cases #sarah cries joel cries tommy cries maria does NOT lol #but she hugs them all #hairstylist au #i swear im gonna find the one i already made that was close to this #i have too many aus #mama shirley #tommy x maria #neurodivergent miller tag

[nerdieforpedro]

So I just want @immarocketman and @mariatesstruther to know that I started a Modern Din AU where he wears hoodies and takes Grogu to the babysitter’s who’s named Mama Shirley who could be 73 or 103 because he doesn’t know and is smart enough not to ask. Din can’t go to the regular daycare because he keeps wearing hoodies that are half off and have inappropriate messages on them for children but Mama Shirley thinks they’re hilarious. 😆 He’s the softest looking bouncer but will Jack you up.

I have no idea where this is going. 😵‍💫

I love it though 🥰🥰❤️

Thank you both - Nerdie 😘

#the most random of ideas #inspired by a work of art #and the silver Jackson 5 #din djarin #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #like I have too many ideas #I never finish them #or maybe I do like months out lol #din is certified with mama shirley

[shirleydanders]

so few posts about shirley dander when she’s clearly the best character…

#book shirley has my heart #slow horses #shirley dander #aimee ffion edwards #chaotic lesbian coke addict? mama she’s me

[seasonofthebxtch]

🥺😍

#shelley winters #shirley schrift #the poseidon adventure #a place in the sun #the night of the hunter #a patch of blue #lolita #a double life #bloody mama #whoever slew auntie roo #the diary of anne frank

[helloparkerrose]

#1960s #girl group #the shirelles #will you still love me tomorrow #mama said #rock n roll hall of fame inductees #new jersey #shirley owens #beverly lee #addie micki harris #doris conley #quartet #baby it's you #legends #black history #blackexcellence365

[chmerkovskiyvalentin]

(IG Stories) valentin: 07.14.22

(IG Stories) shirleyballas: 07.14.22

#val chmerkovskiy #maks chmerkovskiy #mama c #papa c #shirley ballas #baranova27 #instagram stories

[nako-doodles]

Here’s more: I got joon out of the kitchen 👌🏼 and we have the trio at the bar

jjwan and jwehope go out for drinks in every universe we love to see it 🥰🥰🥰

#look at the lil munchkins hard at work 🥺🥺🥺🥺 #it looks like cooking mama? like a nintendo cooking game their butter fits looks so cute #ans #shirley gets played handseomly

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: House

Paul Jessup: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the glass house Jessup: and this house? Jessup: let me tell you Jessup: it is Jessup: so hot Jessup: you will want to fuck this house King: King: uh Barker: shut up steve let's see where this goes

Shirley Jackson: [mumbles] Mary Shelley: shirley has a question about this house Jessup: yeah? Jackson: [mumbles] Shelley: she wants to know how the bricks meet there Jessup: firmly Jessup: they meet firmly

Shelley: zat right? what about the floor? Jessup: the floor is neat Jackson: [mumbling more excitedly] Shelley: yeah yeah i'll ask Shelley: what about the doors? Jessup: all sensibly shut

Jessup: this family is moving into a house Jessup: and, boy, this house is just perfect for them Jessup: just so perfect for them Jessup: so hot and horny for them Jessup: just wanna walk through your tight wet doorways, house Jessup: local slut houses are waiting for you

Jessup: oh! house! shh, i have a secret Jessup: time for some home repair Jessup: oh no it looks like you got a leak Jessup: oh no it's getting everything allllll wet Jessup: tee hee hee King: um King: are you talking to the house Barker: shut UP steve let's see where this goes

Jessup: so this family moves into this sexy house Jessup: but who's more messed up? the family or the house? Jessup: the dad previously made a documentary where he buried his daughter alive in a coffin Jessup: which, you know Jessup: kinda fucked up Shelley: i could take it Jessup: yeah well we're not all you, mary

Shelley: i could be buried in a coffin, no problem Shelley: it'd be fun, i'd enjoy it Shelley: i'll do it right now if any of you fuckers have a coffin around Poe: can we please not talk about this Shelley: why not edgar? you scared? Poe: no i just King: yeah edgar's got this whole thing about being buried alive Poe: i do not have a thing

Shelley: oh yeah sorry i forgot you were scared of that Shelley: i forgot you were a big blubbery baby Shelley: a big blubbery scaredy baby Poe: look i Poe: it just makes me uncomfortable Shelley: aw lookit edgar he don't like being buried alive Poe: it's a perfectly reasonable thing to dislike!

Shelley: let's do it, i'll do it now Poe: well no one here has a coffin so Charles Addams: i have one Poe: Poe: why do you have a coffin Addams: you know, for sleeping in Poe: Poe: yeah ok why not Addams: chicks dig it Poe: sure fine

Jessup: but get this Jessup: there's a ghost in the house Jessup: named Jessup: mater suspirium Dario Argento: eyyyy mama mia!!!

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #mary shelley #paul jessup #dario argento #charles addams #shirley jackson

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

↳ summary: in between their friends voicemails, and a spanish teachers punishment, troy and abed are struggling to tell you something important. or; a reader insert of season one episode sixteen

↳ warnings: period accurate jokes, internalized homophobia, jeff being weird, and alcohol

↳ notes: abed and troy are in a relationship change my mind

↳ song: me and your mama—childish gambino

masterlist | commisions | carrd

It was early morning, just before first period Spanish, when you finally decided to say something.

“Okay, so I can’t be the only one creeped out by that thing, right?” 

You looked around with a sense of judgement as six pairs of eyes immediately whipped around to meet your own. Taking a moment to observe the flower in Annie's hand, and the box of chocolates in Shirley's, you stopped biting at the end of your pen momentarily to gesture at said thing; which just so happened to be your school's mascot.

It was Valentine's day at Greendale community college. Something that, in between your day to day classes and usual group shenanigans, you had forgotten about. If the seven couples french kissing hadn’t reminded you of that enough on your way to the library, the pair of heart shaped boxers draped over the statue outside did. 

You had sat down at the study group as usual, expecting Britta’s rant about the patriarchal undertones of the holiday and a well timed meta quip from Abed, but instead all you got was a pair of artificially painted eyes staring at you.

The mascot in question turned to you and made what sounded like an offended gasp as it stopped wheeling its little cart full of gifts. Cards covered in pink hearts and lacey trim overflowed from it, all attached with tacky glue, and you got a good look at one of them as it was sent flying near your forehead.

“Jeez! Sorry, man! I didn’t know this job meant that much to you!” You swiftly ducked under the table to avoid the line of fire. Coming up once the sound of squeaky wheels on carpet faded away, you ended up glowering as Troy laughed at you.

“Shut up, Barnes. Abed got more muffins than you.” You glared, referencing the lack of valentines gifts he'd been given. Troy was quick to choke on his laughter after that. He straightened his posture consciously, only stealing a look or two at the goodie basket placed neatly in front of Abed.

“Great dodge.” The amateur filmmaker praised you in his usual quick pace as you picked up the card from the floor. “If you had been in the Matrix, and that card was a bullet, that would have been the second coolest scene in the movie. Next to the other part where Neo also evades bullets.”

“Neo’s? I have a few friends that are those.”

“Ignoring Pierce's questionable life choices and their daily allotted hazing— ” Jeff sighed from his usual spot next to you, “— I have more important things to discuss. And speaking of which!”

Jeff slouched further into his chair as the door to the study room opened once more. You all watched as an extremely hungover Britta stumbled in, a pair of reflective aviators resting on the brim of her nose.

“Sorry I’m late.” She grumbled. Going to sit down she nearly fell out of the chair, and all of you exchanged various looks. If the way Jeff was smirking at Britta said anything, there was some new weird sexually charged adventure to be had between the two, and you were not ready to be in another one of those. You had done your time last week, and you weren't eager to repeat it.

"Actually, you're very late, Britta. See you later!" You slammed your Spanish textbook down on the table with an overly cheesy smile to punctuate the end of your sentence. Britta jumped at the loud noise, hissing at you to shut up, but you were already walking out of the room by then. If the shuffling behind you told you anything, it was that the rest of the group had done the same. Sans Britta and Jeff, per usual.

You tilted your body sideways as you navigated through the busy hall full of various highschool dropouts and divorced parents, letting the sound of tennis shoes squeaking against the floors bounce around in your head. It was more annoying than usual today, and it took you a second to realize that it wasn't the shoes making the noise, but rather Troy as he called after you.

“Hey! Hey! Wait up!" He wheezed. "You are very fast when you want to be!” The athlete gasped for breath when you finally slowed down. Coming to a stop as you turned around to face him, you saw another pair of legs enter your line of sight. This time much thinner, and accompanied with a wicker basket full of various baked goodies.

“Troy, I know you like to have someone hold your hand as you walk to class, but normally that's Abed’s job. Please don't allow me to take that pleasure from him.” You said, face completely blank. If you looked hard enough, you thought Abed’s nose flared a bit to insinuate a laugh.

“No, that’s not what I'm here to— hey how did you know that?” Troy took another gulp of air as his brows furrowed.

“I took a guess based on the way both your bodies and hands are angled apart each morning as you walk into Senior Chang’s class. Also, when you eat Cheetos, it rubs off onto the back of Abed's palm.”

“I don't eat Cheetos that much.” Troy frowned. “Do I? For the record I am not gay." Troy made sure to ennunciate that last part as he stared you down. His facial expression reminded you of a nervous first grader doing a bad job in their school play.

“You do, and that's not important right now.” Abed answered back. His head snapped to you with the same amount of intensity that he always got when thinking of a movie reference, and you got the sense he was holding back for the sake of the conversation. 

Raising both eyebrows, you motioned for them to go on. The hallway was clearing out a bit more, and you didn't want to be caught late for Changs class a third time in a row. Last time he threatened to beat you with maracas, and you wouldn't put it past him to actually carry through with it this time.

“Listen, we have something important to say.” Troy began. Abed backed him up with a furious nod, or his equivalent of it. Which really just boiled down to a regular paced nod.

"Is this about Valentine's day? You should ask Shirley about that."

"Come on man!" Troy threw his hands in the air, turning away from the both of you and crossing his arms. "How did you possibly come to that conclusion so fast?!"

"We were just talking about us holding hands."

"Thank you Abed." The both of you said at the same time. Albeit Troy with a little more teeth grinding then nessicary.

"Did you become a ninja overnight? Did you take a ninja class?" Troy took a step forward as he pointed his forefinger in your face. You stared at it as it approached, going cross-eyed momentarily.

"Yes. And if you did, I would like the name to that class." Abed pipped up.

"No, I didn't go to a ninja class." You said while pushing Troy's arm down. "Does this mean I'm right?"

The lack of response from Troy and Abed's unbothered expression provided you with your answer.

"Are you two trying to ask for dating advice or something?" You frowned as you started to walk in the direction of Spanish. Both of them followed as you fixed your backpack strap. "Because if so, Troy you could learn a lot from Abed. And Abed, if you're having a problem, I don't know how to make you anymore appealing to the ladies than you already are."

"It's true." He responded, looking off into what he probably thought was the fourth wall. "I am devilishly irresistible."

"Stop that!" Troy waved his hand in front of his friends face, bringing both their attentions back to you. "Listen. We were wondering how to go about asking the same person to the dance tonight."

"Oh. So like a love triangle thing? I never liked that troupe."

"No no." Troy shut his eyes as he shook his head. "More of like, uh—"

"Neither of us exactly know." Abed cut Troy off in a matter of fact manor. "We both see ourselves hanging out with them at the dance, but aren't exactly jealous of the other being there too."

"If you wanted me to I could crack open Websters dictionary to find a word for that."

"No thank you." Abed echoed. You simply shrugged.

"Okay. So what do you want me to do about it?" You questioned while turning a corner to another hallway. The three of you were nearly at Spanish now, but this conversation had pulled you in more than conjugating verbs ever could.

"We don't. Exactly know how to ask this person to go to the dance." Troy sucked in a breath.

"You guys have seen plenty of movies. Do the typical thing. Flowers, chocolate, and not what they do in your sci-fi movies Abed." You grinned at him knowingly as you passed through the doorway to class. "Personally I'd take kickpunching robots over literally anything ever, but I tend to be the exception for most things."

"It's not a date though. It's, like, three really close people hanging out. Not in a gay way though! I like girls! With boobs. Yes." Troy stammered as you all plopped into your rickety seats.

"Nice save Troy." Senior Chang called from the front of class with a snicker. He brought his feet down off his teachers desk to lean forward and cup his hands around his mouth. "Or should I call you gay-lord!"

"I really hate this language requirement." Troy grumbled, sinking into his chair. You snorted as Abed stiffly reached his hand out to pat his shoulder, making robot sounds as he did so.

"Cheer up." You allowed yourself a shit eating grin. "It is Valentine's day after all."

“Well that was a disaster.” You said over the sound of a ringing bell. Students and teachers alike passed you and Annie by as the two of you made your way through the hall, neither of them seeming to care very much if they bumped into you or not. To say that’d you’d almost gotten into a fight or two due to traffic here would be an understatement.

“I don’t know.” Annie frowned. She brushed her hair out of her face and clutched her books to the front of her chest. You made a face subconsciously, the sight reminding you all too much of the stereotypical school girl. “I thought it was very mean of Senior Chang to do that to Troy! And Pierce, I guess.”

“Annie. He called a balding senior citizen and a lonely freshman out on their sad Valentine’s Day gifts to themselves. It’s Chang. Of course it’s mean. But mean things can also be also be disasters.”

The girl next to you seemed to think about your words for a second. Furrowing her brows once or twice, she eventually let out what you could only describe as a harumph.

“Well I think we should do something about it!”

“Pass.” You said without a seconds hesitation. Annie deflated a bit at that and eyed the tips of her shoes. You stole a look down at her, and let out a sigh.

“You know me. I’m such a big fan of sticking my nose in other peoples business when it doesn’t belong— “ Sarcasm. “— but I think you and Shirley would be a better duo for this. She’s ruthless when she sets her mind to it, and you’re crafty in the way that you could have written the script for the movie Seven if you wanted to. Probably.”

“Aww thanks! I think.” Annie beamed. She regained some pep in her step as she skipped ahead of you, only turning back to say one more thing to you. “No wonder Troy and Abed like to talk about you so much. So many obscure movie references between you guys. Cute!”

“Seven was a box office hit, Annie— “ You began with the hint of a frown tugging at your lips, but she was already off. No doubt to find Shirley before lunch so they could cook up their plan in a flurry of giggles. That only left you with one more question.

“They talk about me?”

Jeff huffed as he walked into the near empty classroom. His hands, which he had spent the last three minutes nervously slathering in expensive lotion as a part of his mid-day exfoliation routine, were stuffed deep into his jacket pockets. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to this interaction, but sometimes he’d throw his better judgment out the window. Sometimes.

Raising a single eyebrow, he glanced around at the spare video equipment set up; the bulk of which was sat right in front of his target. The former lawyer ignored as a kid in a yellow button up kicked a trash can across the room, instead making a beeline for Abed. Who was giving directions rather loudly to the angry kid.

“Wow. Do you normally deal with divas like this?” Jeff flashed his signature charming smile while commenting on the temper tantrum. Better to be friendly and break the ice rather than dive right in. Otherwise you’d scare people off. He learned that while working at the firm.

“One Papa Johns commercial, and he thinks he’s Christian Bale.” Abed pursed his lips comically.

“Look, uh— “ Jeff began to steer away from the topic of the questionable kid as he pulls Abed’s attention in. “You were right earlier. During Spanish. Britta is being weird around me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“By being right, do you mean my prediction that the accidental booty call she sent you while drunk is going to cause the imminent breakup of our fragile group?”

Jeff blinked.

“Yeah. That.” He spat out.

“Nice. So what can I do for you?” Abed leaned back into his makeshift directors chair while crossing his legs. “Do you need a drunk voicemail of your own to send to her so the score will be evened? Because I have nowhere to be for the next twenty four hours and personal dilema to avoid.”

Jeff inhaled with the intent to bulldoze over the younger mans statement, but ended up falling flat.

“Ignoring that last part, yeah I do, actually. How did you know that?” He squinted. Jeff would never admit it, but sometimes it creeped him out how easily Abed could predict what people would say next.

“Classic sitcom staple.” Abed shrugged without changing his expression one bit. “Goes hand in hand with the booty call. Now— “ He leaned forward with a glint in his eye. One that Jeff didn’t quite like.

“How well can you act?”

You don’t know how you ended up here, and you had been ready to leave the moment you arrived.

A faint punch stain from years ago sat at the hem off of your slacks, reminiscent of a house party from a year ago that had ended in disarray. They were the good slacks too. Paired with what was thankfully an unstained button up polo shirt. This was the closest anyone was going get to fancy from you tonight.

Various pink and red hues cascaded across the dance floor, playing into the Valentine’s Day theme as the schools mascot continued to prowl around on the dance floor. You were sure that the dean would be happy with himself over that if it wasn’t for the fact that couples were making out everywhere. It was pretty fun watching him try to break them all up, actually. You’d made a little game out of it with how long you’d been standing at the punch table.

The toe of your shoe came in contact with a stray balloon from one of the tables centerpieces. With a downward twitch of your lips, you picked the rubbery material up into your hands and started messing with it. Sounds of latex on skin distracted you from all of the screeching and poor singing.

“Not having a lot of fun, huh?” A voice from your left asked.

Glancing near the onion rings that had been laid out as finger food, you saw the familiar form Britta peering at you from under some fake eyelashes. That would have been more of a shock to you if the skimpy red dress she was wearing didn’t overshadow it.

“Hey there.” You avoided her question as you threw the balloon back into the crowd it had come from. “Great disco ball costume. Very sparkly.”

“Ha ha.” She mocked you before crossing your arms. “For the record, I still think Valentine’s Day is a sham. I’m just doing this to see Jeff squirm.”

“Ah. Well then, I’m sure all of the women out there will forgive you for your transgressions.” You teased her with an empty smile.

Britta let out a cross between a laugh and a huff, gaze straying from you to look out at the mass you launched your balloon into. Occasionally someone in unusually high heels would fall, only to be swept back up into the bobbing heads.

“Have you talked to Troy lately?” Britta cut in suddenly. The tone of her voice made you narrow your eyes, and you hummed out a suspicious no.

“That question is both too casual and well delivered on a night like this to have come from you. What’s going on.” You had fully abandoned kicking around stray balloons for talking with her. Or at least, staring at her forehead while she talked. You didn’t know if you could manage eye contact right now.

“He was looking for you earlier at lunch. While sweating. A lot.” Britta scrunched her nose up as if she could still smell the body odor. “Sounded like he wanted to ask you something.”

You looked away from her for a moment, temporarily overcome with a feeling of nausea.

“Oh, yeah. My bad. I was in the study room.” A pause. “Studying.”

“Troy said that he checked there beforehand.” It was Britta’s turn to squint at you. “Why are you the one acting weird now?”

Rubbing at the back of your neck proved as a temporary relief to her question. Inhaling through your mouth, you pulled out your phone and messed with it for a second.

“I got a weird voicemail from Abed today. The main part is him talking to me about the dance scene from Breakfast Club, I think, and some weird phone thing with Jeff and you— " Britta coughed into her hand at that “— but the last few seconds really threw me.”

You opened your mouth to continue the story, but quickly shut it once you saw that Britta wasn’t paying attention anymore. You didn’t even have to follow her line of sight to know she was staring at a dejected looking Jeff— who had been standing by the cusp of the exit for six minutes now. You didn’t even have to nod at her to go before she took off, awkwardly waddling in her stilletos in an attempt to not trip.

It only took a few more minutes of watching the two of them go back and forth for you to give up on anything exciting happening to you. With a halfhearted grumble, you took one last grab at the punch bowl before starting towards the double doors. You hoped the juice had been spiked. If you made all this effort to show up to some lame school thing, might as well get a little tipsy.

“Well this is awkward.”

A harsh cough came from your throat as you choked on your own spit.  In an attempt to make yourself feel better, you turned around to glare at whoever had scared you, only to start coughing more.

“Abed?” You wheezed. Letting out another round of coughs, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the sunglasses on his face.

“I came as fast as I could when I realized Troy was stuck as Senior Changs whore for the night.” He looked at you calmly as you continued to die a little right in front of him.

Finally taking one more gulp of punch from the table, you calmed down enough to string together a sentence.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Let me explain for any in the audience that might have missed it while in the bathroom.” Abed held up a finger. All you could do was deadpan weakly at him.

“Both Troy and I approached you a little bit ago saying that we had something important to say to you. He worded it wrong. We were supposed to ask you something, not tell you. Instead, Troy allowed Senior Chang’s torture to ruin that question, and later I with Jeff and Britta’s voicemail problems”

“Their what’s? What is going on with voicemails today.”

“Not important.” Abed carried on. “What’s important is that while I was fulfilling the spot of Jeff’s drinking buddy, I realized something.”

“That you shouldn’t be drinking??” You questioned wildly. It was beginning to feel like this night was a special episode in a really bad main cable show. Either that or this place was finally getting to you.

“No. I realized that while Troy was fitting himself and Pierce into extra tight women’s suits, that we would miss the opportunity to ask you what we wanted to. I called Troy to tell him to go look for you, but only after sending a call to you that I do not remember the contents of. I assume you have it?” He blinked owlishly.

With a pair of very wide and very confused eyes, you grabbed your phone for the second time that night and shook it with a loose wrist. The audio from a few hours ago began to play faintly. It’s sound was swallowed by the bass of the dances music, but the both of you could still make the words out. Abed’s voice tumbled out at twice the speed it normally does, his energy no doubt heightened by alcohol.

“— e’re sort of like Marty McFly and Jennifer Parker, but there’s three of us. Have you seen the second movie? I need to show you the second movie. There’s more of Jennifer in that than the first. And Martys mom isn’t trying to get with him. Oh, and you don’t have to have a time traveling car for us to want to go to the dance with you. Although that would be nice. Jeff stop drooling on tha —"

Abed looked at it silently as the message continued to run. It was as if he expected nothing more from its contents. For a second you wondered how he’d react to the twenty minutes before that where all he talks about is Breakfast Club, but you figured it would be the same.

The feeling of nausea from earlier was back, and this time was trying to crawl out of your throat with a ferocity. Swallowing both your nerves and that not so metaphorical metaphor, you inhaled.

“So. Troy’s okay with this?” You asked cautiously, as if this was a dubious prank. Abed nodded almost immediately after you asked. The nausea subsided.

“And you’re okay with this?”

Another nod.

“Alright.” You shuffled. It felt like ten pounds had been lifted off your chest, and you didn't know how to express that. “I’ll go to the dance. With the both of you.”

A brief period of silence stretched between the two of you. The lights continued to flair, and the music continued to shake the floorboards, but none of you moved.

“Abed?”

“Sorry. You made me so happy I peed a little, and didn’t want to say anything.”

The corner of your mouth lifted up once. Twice. It only took one more time for a tirade of laughter to escape you all in one go. Abed’s unmoving expression just watched as you laughed to yourself, waiting patiently until you had stopped. When you paused to catch your breath, Abed placed a hand on your shoulder and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Normally this doesn’t happen in shows.” He hummed. “Do you think that this is a way of adding some diversity in the form of a polyamorous couple at a community college?”

“How about no lables?” You suggested. “It feels weird. What if it was just me, you, and Troy for now.”

Abed repeated your words under his breath, mumbling a little. He lifted his head back up to you with his thought on the proposition, which arrived in the form of a steady thumbs up.

“Cool. Cool cool cool.” You grinned at him. Abed’s nose flared at your use of his unspoken catchphrase, and he turned away from you to cup his hands around his mouth.

"They said yes!" He told the figure dancing on the floor; the likes of which responded with a yell of victory before getting back to it. It took you a minute to get past the skintight blue suit and floral scarf to realize who it was.

"Troy?!" You sputtered with an open mouth. He looked at you at the mention of his name with a painful smile before turning back to his dance partner with a dramatic sob.

"What is he wearing? And why is Senior Chang— oh god." Your eyes widened, unable to look away. "I think I'm going to puke."

"It's better if you don't question it." Abed told you, his hand just a few inches shy of touching his eyes as he hid behind it.

"Give me your hand Abed." You said blankly. Without questioning you, he held it out. You were quick to sheild your own eyes from the dancing.

"So." You turned your head to look at him after a moment of gross silence, both of his hands still in the air. "Movie date tonight when Troy is released from captivity?"

"I've been waiting forever for you to ask that."

#community #community x reader #community x you #community x y/n #abed nadir #abed x reader #abed x you #abed x y/n #abed x troy #troy barnes #troy x reader #troy x you #troy x y/n #troy x abed #jeff winger #britta perry #annie #shirley bennett #pierce hawthorne #x reader #one shot #polyamory #polyamourous

[thedroneranger]

Daggers on Draught: Open Bar 🍻

Daggers and your requested drink combos! Shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @sylviebell and @beyondthesefourwalls for inspiring Open Bar 🥂

The bar is CLOSED. Drink up the OG Daggers on Draught, Drinking Drabbles and Craft Edition.

Also follow @love-in-light as she crafts cocktails based on this series!

Amelia

• Cherry Limeade (na) | Cherry Crush

Bob

• Angry Orchard | Apple of Your Eye • Aperol Spritz | Buon Compleanno • Arnold Palmer | Homegrown • Moscato | Fall for You • Old Fashioned | Bobby After Dark • Peroni (0.0%) | Love Language • Pina Colada | Beach Bob • Pink Lady | Pretty in Pink • Screwdriver | Breakfast & Bob • Stella Artois | Gift of One-liners • White Sangria | Happy as a Clam

Coyote

• Aviation | Laissez Le Bon Temps Rouler • Prosecco | Coyote Casanova • Cabernet Sauvignon | Uncorked Coyote • Margarita | Hot Up in This Joint • Sazerac | Good Libations

Cyclone

• Brooklyn | Checkmate • Gin & Tonic | Everything is Blue • Sazerac | Night Moves • White Russian | Heart of a Cyclone

Fanboy

• Bellini | No. 1 Fan • Bramble | I Feel the Need • Cayman Jack | Later, Gator • Hurricane | The Night is Calling • Moscato d’Asti | Shining So Bright • Pacifico | California Sunshine

Hangman

• Angry Orchard | Cider House Rules • Body Shots | Licked It • Captain Morgan | Adventure is Out There • Gin & Tonic | Gin & Jake • High Noon | Let's Go Girls • Jack & Coke | Save A Horse • Jack Daniels | Gentleman Jake • Margarita | Drinking in a Winter Wonderland • Maker's Mark | Marksman • Mimosa | Yuletide Greetings • Mint Julep | Cashmere, Cologne & Hot Sunshine • Paper Plane | It's Not the Plane • Pina Colada | Ride the (Heat)Wave • Ranch Water | Ranch Hand • Sex on the Beach | Cake by the Ocean • Tia Maria | Nigthtcap • Tequila Shots | Tequila Little Time • Whiskey Sour | Bon Voyage

Hondo

• Mojito | Minted

Iceman

• Bourbon | Puff, Puff, Pour • Vesper | GoldenEye • Belvedere | On Ice • Whiskey Sour | Old Friend

Maverick

• Boulevardier | Twice as Nice • Tom Collins | Old Time's Sake

Payback

• Midori Sour | Solo Session • Paper Plane | Wingman

Penny

• Bloody Mary | Hair of the Dog • Martini | Shaken Not Stirred • Mimosa | Sail Away

Phoenix

• Bahama Mama | Golden Afternoon • Bellini | So Classic • Fuzzy Navel | Poolside Peach • Long Drink | Now Imagine Her Holding a Long Drink • Merlot | Raise You Like a Phoenix • Phoenix | Grit & Glam • Shirley Temple (na) | Tastes So Good • The Last Word | What's the Password?

Rooster

• Blanton's | Giddy Up • Captain Morgan | Captain n' Cock • Champagne | Too Much is Just Right • George Dickel | Too Young to Know • Gin & Tonic | Ain't Leavin' 'til Six in the Mornin' • High Noon | High Noonster • Kamikaze Shot | Stateside • Long Drink | Long Day, Long Drink • Malibu | Just Beach • BB™rita | Salt and a Buffett Song • Margarita (strawberry) | Pourin' All Weekend • Margarita (spicy) | Sweet Heat • Tito’s and Lemonade | I've Got Sunshine • Bellini | Bellinis in Bed • Pina Colada | If You Like Rooster Coladas • Ranch Water | Take Me Home Country Road • Wild Turkey | Cold Turkey

#top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #dagger squad #javy coyote machado #javy machado #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #reuben payback fitch #reuben fitch #mickey garcia #mickey fanboy garcia #bernie hondo coleman #bernie coleman #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #beer aesthetic #ranger moodboard #the drone ranger #daggers on draught #craft daggers #daggers open bar

[mariatesstruther]

okay but there being a senior center in jackson where it’s just five of their oldest citizens that can’t get around much anymore living in a two-story home that tommy spruced up a couple years ago so that it has ramps instead of stairs. The Seniors are all over 90 and hilarious and love babying miller brothers especially. nobody knows why but mama shirley in particular is OBSESSED with joel like. thats her baby thats her boo that’s her MANS okay

#joel just runs with it #visits mama shirley every other day with tea and some sunflower butter and candied apples #she told him once he reminds her of her late husband and after that he tries to start coming everyday #jackson senior center #the millers #the tipsy bison #the jackson five

[cutiecorner]

Can We Fix It?

fic • caregiver J'onn J'onzz, regressor John Stewart

still on my John kick. Might write more for these two!

John was feeling under the weather. He hated to admit it, but he was. He was stubborn when it came to taking breaks from hero work - but this flu had progressed to the point he could barely stand. He laid face down on his bed, groaning through the tight pain in his stomach. His groan melted into a whine as his stomach rolled. Ugh, not this again, he found himself thinking. This flu would not make him regress, he promised himself that. Though, when he reached for the water bottle on his night stand, it spilled. He hated messes. This day just went from bad to worse. 

He took a deep breath and prepared himself to roll out of bed, preferably into a standing position. That didn’t happen though, as when he rolled over he rolled clean off the bed, into the puddle of water. John’s face twisted into a pout and he hit the ground with his fist. Ugh! Now he was all wet too? How was he gonna change his shirt if he couldn’t even get up? It was all too much. He hit the ground more and more. His mom’s voice rang through his head, John Marshall Stewart, you better fix your attitude. He stopped his flailing. His mom. He wanted his mom so bad, and the way he was acting? His mom would probably be disappointed. He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the tears from an imaginary audience. He hated regression. Hate, hate, hated it!

“John?”

A rumbling voice cut through John’s loud thoughts.

“J’onn?’ He replied.

Said martian was hovering right above him, looking worried at his spot on the floor. Everything’s fine, John thought, act casual.

“H-hey man,” John’s voice cracked. Seriously? 

“Are you alright?” J’onn asked, his voice painfully gentle, “Your tracker sent an alert that your heart rate was elevated, and I know you’re not well,”

John grimaced at the pain blooming in his back, “I’m fine. Just rolled off the bed is all.”

“Let me help you,”

Before John could protest, he was being lifted by his friend. J’onn set him back in bed, and laid the back of his hand on John’s forehead.

“Getting anything from that?” 

J’onn shrugged,“... No, but Clark did it to me when I was sick.”

They shared a laugh.

“Thanks for checking in on me, Big J,”

“Of course. It wasn’t just the sensor that sent me,”

John quirked a brow.

“Your mother wanted me to check in on you,”

John hid his face in embarrassment, mama! He grumbled.

“Think nothing of it, my friend. I’ll be staying with you to make sure you recover,”

“Oh, J’onn, you don’t have to do that.”

“Are you suggesting I disobey a direct order from Shirley Stewart?”

“Oh, yeah, you better stay.”

They laughed again.

J’onn examined John’s face closer, finding the tear stains. He reached up a hand to wipe the still-wet tracks away.

“Little one…” 

John flinched.

“Nope, nope, none of that,” John pouted. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“John, I don’t mean to assume, but if this illness is making you regress -”

“It’s not.” he huffed. J’onn retracted his hand.

“Alright, if you say so.”

John perked up at the success. Ha! He was not regressed. Even J’onn thought so.

"Will you at least let me help you out of your wet shirt?

John had already forgotten about the shirt.

"I can do it by myself, thanks,"

With great struggle (and perhaps a hand from J'onn) the shirt was discarded and replaced with a soft Howard University sweatshirt. 

“Is it okay if I put something on TV?” J'onn asked.

“Of course, I’ve got some DVDs on the shelf.”

J’onn walked over and thumbed through the shelf. A smirk crossed his face, but was quickly covered with his usual neutral expression. He popped the DVD in the player, and an animated selection screen flicked on. A familiar song started to play.

“J’onn. I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Bob the Builder? This is a kid’s show.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware. You’re the one with the DVD.”

John huffed. “Touche.”

The theme song played on. Once the episode proper began, John propped himself up to see.

“What is that?” J’onn asked, pointing at the contraption on screen.

“You’ve never seen a steam roller?”

“I don’t get out much.”

“Well, now you have,” John said, “his name is Roley.”

“Do all steam rollers have names?”

“No! Just this one!” John giggled.

…giggled?

“What are the other creatures' names?”

“They’re not really creatures, J, they’re machines,”

“Then why do they have eyes?”

“I dunno!” John was laughing now.

“Well, what are their names?”

“Okay okay… can you… can you look in that bottom drawer?”

J’onn opened the drawer, finding little plastic figures inside.

“Oh! It’s Roley!” J’onn held up the green steamroller. 

“Bring ‘em all over!”

John was sitting up in bed now, trying to curb his growing smile. J’onn spread out the toys on the bed.

“Okay so this is Scoop, he’s a backhoe loader, and Muck is a dump truck - dump trucks are my favorite - and Dizzy, a cement mixer! And Bob, obviously.”

“Bob is the only human among them? How did he come to know these sentient machines?”

John laughed, “I dunno!”

“Maybe if we watch, we’ll find out.”

“Sit here, J!” John beamed, patting the spot next to him.

“Of course, little one.”

#agere #fandom agere #agere fandom #dc agere #justice league agere #green lantern agere #agere fanfic #agere fanfiction

[toomanyfandomstocountlol]

Community DND

Jeff: Bard. I’m thinking college of lore what with him being a lawyer and becoming a teacher. Though you could argue charismatic rouge.

Annie: wizard, purely because she had the biggest brain. Not sure what subclass

Shirley: Cleric of life, I guess maybe a paladin. Either way, badass mama bear.

Pierce: thinks he’s a warlock because of the cult he joined and a really weird dream, but is actually just a npc. The others work their asses for to make sure he doesn’t die lol.

Chang: I guess rouge? What with faking changnesia and all

Abed: he’s the dms player character lol. But for real, I guess either artificer or rouge. Artificer because of his fourth wall breaking and random knowledge, and rouge for being a jack of all trades

Troy: Fighter for sure. Battle tactian?

Britta: I could see Druid or Wild Magic Sorcerer, with her activism and strong will with little control.

Dean: Druid because of his furry fetish lol. I actually have no idea. Druid it is.

#community #dnd #dungeons & dragons #community dnd #jeff winger #annie edison #britta perry #pierce hawthorne #troy barnes #troy and abed #abed nadir #shirley bennett #dean pelton #ben chang

[thislovintime]

Photo by Matthew Asner:

“First day of school in 9th grade. I am nervous as hell because it is my first day of high school and it’s all new. I walk into my Social Studies Class and am greeted by the teacher who just happens to be Peter Tork of The Monkees. A guy I watched goofing around on TV religiously as a child was teaching me about the world. He was a tough teacher. We had a thing in his class where he would always think that I wasn’t paying attention. He would always make a point of stopping what he was teaching and say to me, ‘What did I just say`’ I would always answer him correctly and it always seemed to frustrate him. He was very smart and loved to read from Mao’s Little Red Book. I was truly happy for him when The Monkees started touring and he found success again. I took this picture in our schoolyard at New Dimensions High School.” - Matthew Asner (Ed Asner’s son), Facebook, July 1, 2023

“Since September he has been teaching English, math, drama, Eastern philosophy and ‘Rock Band Class’ at Pacific Hills, a private secondary school in Santa Monica, Calif. A college dropout, Peter got the job on the strength of his interview with Dr. Penrod Moss, the school’s director. ‘I like to hire people who are independent and creative,’ Moss said. ‘I was impressed by his personality and his ability to speak.’ […] While Tork the musician still has dreams of one day returning to the rock circuit, Thorkelson the teacher is happily planning his next course, ‘Mao, Marx and Mama.’ ‘I’m doing something important,’ he says. ‘I never do anything less than important.’” - People magazine, April 5, 1976

“For some time, [Tork] said, the students in his high school classes had trouble forgetting their teacher was once a teen idol. ‘Until I gave out a few F’s,’ he added, grinning.” - The Clarion Ledger, November 1, 1979 (x)

“I was a schoolteacher in Southern California, and I taught music as well as academics, and I really very much love to teach, and, and I think that if circumstances show me that I am not to entertain anymore or my entertaining career per se winds down, I would very, very much love to coach young entertainers.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, September 1989

“[A]s a teacher, I realized that in order to teach something well you need to understand what your student is going through as they try to learn.” - Peter Tork, The Journal Times Online, August 12, 2005

On a 2018 blog post at the Monkees Live Almanac, one former student, Mark, commented: “Best high school teacher I ever had […]. Tremendous empathy.” (x)

“I taught English and social studies. And sure, the kids probably saw me as a Monkee, but they got over that in a hurry. Once I lost my temper at the kids, they’d see I was just like all the others — and I probably lost my temper too many times, since I was in an angry state back then. I have a life now, that’s the difference. I have a spiritual core. I’m not Shirley MacLaine but I believe in greater or lesser worlds and consciousness. Most people think of themselves as cut off from each other; others know there’s a connectedness that can be tapped into.” - Peter Tork, The Boston Globe, August 10, 1989

“In the mid-’70s, Tork got jobs teaching English, social studies and music at two private schools in the Los Angeles area. The first job, which he enjoyed, was at ‘a radical progressive school in Santa Monica.’ The second was at a school he describes as ‘a holding tank for budding fascists. I couldn’t hack it. I found more integrity in being a singing waiter’ — his next job.” - Los Angeles Times, October 20, 1992 (x)

More about that next job here.

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #Tork teaching #70s Tork #<3 #long read #Matthew Asner #1975 #1976 #1977 #1978 #1979 #also always so much respect for Peter's unflinching honesty in interviews #this photo... thank you Matthew Asner thank you #The Clarion Ledger #Los Angeles Times #the boston globe #Headquarters Radio #can you queue it

[theresawritesstuff]

Maisel: An 18 year old Esther announces at Yom Kippur that she’s changing her last name to Weissman-Bruce. Chaos ensues.

So, little personal author fun fact... While my situation was different from Esther's growing up, I very likely would have taken my step father's family name had I not gotten married right out of high school. So stepfather/daughter stuff like this is definitely has a place in my heart.

Love the prompt! Enjoy the chaos ❤️

Yom Kippur 1976

"I changed my name."

The table fell silent for quite possibly the first time in family history. Certainly the first she could remember.

"What?" her mother asked finally, swallowing down her bite of food.

"I changed my last name. I'm not Esther Maisel anymore," she repeated.

More stunned silence followed.

"When?" Mama wondered.

"Just before fall registration. I had been thinking about doing it for a while and it seemed like as good a time as any. Save the hassle of changing it later with school records, signing up for classes, eventual diplomas…"

Papa Abe nodded sagely to himself at her logic. "I do not miss the clerical errors of academia. The number of spelling mistakes I caught at Columbia…"

Pop finally got over his shock enough to speak. Unfortunately.

"What do you mean you changed your name? You're a Maisel."

"Not legally anymore," Esther countered into her wine glass. "At least not according to a lot of paperwork I had to file."

"Don't get smart with me, young lady. This is serious," Pop warned.

"Too late," Chiam muttered under his breath, prompting his mother to choke back a barely stifled laugh.

"What'd she say?" Grandpa Moishe adjusted his hearing aid.

"Esther changed her name," Ethan replied casually, returning to his chicken.

He was the only one who wasn't surprised. 

Because he was the only one who already knew.

Grandpa Moishe nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Oh. Good for you, pumpkin."

"I always thought the matching sibling initials was a weird trend," Grandma Shirley chimed.

"So what are we calling you now? Deborah?" Grandpa asked.

Esther groaned. "God no, there's so many Debbies on campus already."

"Are you one of those transexuals, honey? Because we'll still love you no matter what," Grandma Shirley promised.

Ethan nearly spit his drink across the table, earning a pat on the back from Kitty beside him.

"Just as long as you don't go parading around in an ill fitting suit," Grandpa amended.

"Nope. Still Esther Grandma. Not that kind of name change," she replied.

"How do you two know what a transexual is?" Ethan wondered, fighting back a laugh.

Grandma Shirley's eyes lit up at the chance to tell the tale. "We saw that movie! The one with all the singing and the thrusting. It was very sparkly. I think there were aliens at one point?"

"I don't know. I fell asleep around when Meatloaf showed up," Grandpa admitted, unimpressed.

"We thought we were going to see that new boxing movie."

"It was not about boxing."

"The songs were catchy though!"

"Very catchy."

Susie barely concealed her amusement as she looked pointedly across the table at Mama.

"That's so going in your act," she muttered knowingly.

Mama gave her friend a look. It was true, but not the time.

"You can't just change your last name," Pop insisted indignantly.

Her stepfather scoffed. "Why not? I did."

"Stay out of this, Lenny," Pop barked.

"We're in my house," Lenny reminded him.

"And she's my kid," Pop spat back.

Lenny tossed down his napkin and started to stand, the limits of his patience finally reached.

"Oh shit," Uncle Noah breathed, preparing for a scuffle to break out and looking a bit too excited about it.

Mama put a hand on Lenny's arm in an attempt to keep the peace. "Joel–"

"I changed it to Weissman-Bruce," Esther blurted over the mounting chaos, bringing the table to another uncharacteristic standstill.

"What?" Pop looked like he might have an aneurism.

"Really?"

Esther turned at the awe in her stepfather's voice.

"Yes."

Lenny swallowed, his eyes getting misty as Mama squeezed his hand, looking between the two equally touched.

Oh shit. Of all the people she expected to cry during the course of this conversation, her money had not been on Lenny. 

Herself, maybe. 

Grandma Shirley had been the front runner. But Lenny…

"Cool. Welcome to Team Hyphen," her little sister Lilah quipped, looking up from her book.

Esther couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped her. "Thanks Birdie," she whispered.

"We'll teach you the secret handshake later," Ari offered, earning himself a light smack on the back of the head from Mei.

He gave Esther a wink across the table all the same, the lovable little mensch.

She smiled and gave him a nod in agreement.

It would have been so easy to resent her half sibling, to blame him for the way her relationship with their father had disintegrated over the years, for taking him away from her and Ethan. 

But she was smarter than that. She'd learned pretty quickly that the kids aren't the ones responsible for their parents' choices. 

And frankly she'd take her little brother over Pop just about any day of the week these days.

"You traded my name for his?" Pop growled, gesturing derisively to Lenny.

Mei turned to glare at him. "Joel–"

But Lenny wasn't the only one done with putting up with Joel Maisel for the evening.

"For fucks sake Pop, not everything is about you!" she cried.

"Language, young lady," Grandma Shirley gasped.

She barely registered the rebuke, venting, "It's not like I'm the only one left to carry on the family name for the next generation or some bullshit. You've got two sons. That's their job!"

Ethan looked up mid-bite. "It is?"

"That and dispatching really big bugs," Kitty confirmed in mock sympathy.

"Esther!" Grandma Rose reprimanded.

She rolled her eyes. "Grandma please. I was raised by two of the most foul mouthed entertainers in the country and had Susie as one of my primary babysitters. That is not the worst thing that has been said by a member of this family by a longshot."

"Why am I getting dragged into this?" Susie wondered through a bite of kugel.

Ari looked up. "Wait, what's our job?"

"Procreation and extermination, apparently," Ethan chuckled.

"College first," Mei reminded him in a veiled warning.

"What brought this about?" Mama wondered gently.

Esther exhaled a sigh. "I just…I'm going to be a scientist someday. And Mama, as much as I respect the work you've done to build your career, I can't walk into every classroom, interview, and workplace and hear 'oh hey just like the foxy comedienne who tells all those dick jokes! Say, you kind of look like her too'. I just can't. It's already hard enough getting anyone to take me seriously. I have always been a Weissman anyway. Papa Abe has said so since before I could read. It will make things easier and it just…felt right. So I did it. I didn't know how to tell you before."

"It's okay sweetie," her mother reassured her, taking her hand.

"So why tack Bruce on the end? People know his name too, you know. Why not just leave it at Weissman?" Pop demanded.

Her mother glared at him.

"You wanna know why?" Esther laughed mirthlessly. "Because he's earned it. I've earned it. Lenny has been more of a father to me in the past 14 years than you ever have been."

"What are you talking about? I've been there for you!"

"You've been in Chicago on and off for almost my entire childhood!"

She shook her head, so fed up she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

"And you know what? I get it. You felt like you had to follow Mei when she got her residency because of true love or whatever and yeah Mei is amazing. I get you not wanting to give up on that. And then Ari came along and that made things complicated. I get that part now.  But as a little kid all I knew then was that Daddy left. Again."

To his credit, Pop did look genuinely pained by her reply. "I split my time as best I could..."

"For a while, yeah," she admitted. "But it only took a few years before it felt like you stopped trying. Even when you were here it never felt like you cared. You'd check in with Ethan but sometimes I wondered if you even remembered I was there. And don't say you didn't know how to talk to me because you never even tried. Meanwhile, Lenny…" 

She blinked back tears thinking about all this so openly. "God, even when he was going through hell fighting for his career, dodging obscenity convictions by the skin of his teeth, staying sober when it would have been so much easier to fall off the wagon, he always was there for us when we needed him. He always cared. Always. And he never once stopped trying to do right by our family. He's the one who actually taught me how to ride a bike instead of just saying 'here watch your brother do it'. He's the one who helped me with my debate homework when the thought of public speaking made me want to hurl and let me talk his ear off about music and dumb science fiction novels and what Karen said in home economics and didn't laugh when I had to wear headgear for six months. I had braces by the way. But you wouldn't know that because you ran off to Chicago and left us."

"Esther…"

"I visited. I called. I'm here now. I–"

"So that just makes it all okay? I'm supposed to feel grateful? Honored to share your name because you decided to waltz back to New York now that Ethan's back stateside?"

She shook her head, getting up from the table.

"I'm still your father."

"No. No you're not."

"Esther."

"I need some air."

"Esther!"

"Joel." Mei put a hand on his arm. "Let her go."

It was Susie who eventually broke the silence, reaching for another piece of challah.

"You guys always did know how to throw one hell of a break fast."

The fall air was a welcome reprieve from inside as she collected herself on the fire escape. 

"Room out here for one more?"

She smiled slightly as Lenny came to sit beside her on the cool metal.

They let the sounds of the city fill the silence between them, Esther eventually letting herself slump against his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to tell everyone like that. It just…" 

"It's okay, sweetie," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her.

She nodded, sniffling as she wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I don't care what he thinks. As far as I'm concerned he lost his fathering privileges a long time ago."

"You're an adult now. You get to decide what your relationship with him looks like."

She nodded again. Somehow it didn't make her feel better.

"What you said back there…"

"I know you haven't always been perfect but at least you've always tried. You did the work. You never stopped trying to be there for us. And you've owned up to your mistakes. I don't think he's ever done that."

She swallowed, looking up at him shyly.

"Is…is it too late to ask if I can call you Dad?"

Lenny smiled softly, hugging her tighter. "You can call me whatever you want. But Dad would be pretty fucking great."

"I've wanted to for a long time," she admitted. "I did once. Not to you, just to myself for a little while. Trying it out in my head back when you and Mama first got married. I slipped up and called you dad when I was talking to him over about… I don't know, some plans we had for the weekend or whatever. He took it about like he did back there on a smaller scale. I still wanted to call you Dad but I was little and wasn't brave enough to stand up to him. I was afraid I'd slip up and set him off. I guess I grew out of that."

"You and your mother sure know how to throw down a tirade when someone pushes you hard enough, I'll give you that," he chuckled. "But I'm proud of you for standing your ground. I mean it."

"He just makes me so mad sometimes. The way he just pretends everything is fine and normal no matter how long it's been."

"Oh I get it." Lenny shook his head. "We've had a tenuous truce over the years for the sake of you kids but…"

He let out a sigh through his nose.

"For what it's worth, I've always considered you and your brother my kids, no matter what you called me. Just as much as Kitty and Lilah."

"I know."

"You gonna be okay?"

Esther nodded. "Yeah."

He leaned over to kiss her hair before getting to his feet. "Love you."

He paused at the window before climbing in.

"I'm not saying you have to forgive him or let him in your life in any capacity you don't want to…But try not to stay too mad at him forever. It's not good for your health."

She heaved a tired sigh, knowing he was right.

"Maybe just a little longer?"

Lenny chuckled. "Okay. You've earned it."

"Hey...Will you let me know when he's gone so I can have some honey cake?"

Lenny nodded. "I'll send someone out with a big slice in a few minutes. That way you don't have to fight Susie for the last bit."

She smiled genuinely at that.

"Thanks Dad."

Lenny nodded, looking a little watery again at hearing her say it. 

Finally.

"No problem kiddo."

#Midgelenny #Weissman family chaos #Lenny and Esther #chosen family #midge x lenny #tmmm fanfic

[dulcewrites]

Flew too Close to the Sun (part 1)

Pairing: austin!elvis x black fem oc (Faye)

Summary: With a chance of a lifetime on the line, Faye convinces her sisters going Vegas is the right choice. The Williams Sisters meet Elvis. (Wc: 1292)

Warnings: Allusions to cheating, that's basically it

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Meet the sisters

A/N: Hiiii. I’m so excited to get this series underway. This is my first multi part work. I’m planning on it being 5 parts in total but ideas/changes always come to me so it could more or it could be less. I also have other Elvis ideas that I hope to post while this series goes on. Just some house keeping things: this starts during 1971/1972 and and he’s like 36/37. Also I expect the other parts to be longer, this is just laying ground work. Also this work will be a mixture of my interpretation of the movie plus my interpretation of the real Elvis. As always, please reblog, like, and follow if you see something you enjoy.

The room is eerily quiet, which is not typical for the Williams Sisters when they are together. This is Faye’s fault; she knows that, but frankly she’s trying to find a reason to feel guilty. They’re going to be singing back for Elvis Presley and it’s all because of her. Answering yes to the opportunity on the behalf of the group was a selfish, but Faye is always willing to admit she’s selfish when it comes to their career.

“You’ve done a lot of dumb stuff, but this takes the cake,” Dawn says somberly, getting up from her seat. “I need to go call Joseph.” 

Picking up on the anger steaming out of Dawn, Faye doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Joseph, their manager, has already worked out flight details. 

Both Faye and Shirley flitch when they hear the door to one of the rooms in their parents’ home slam shut. Thank God mama is not home. She expected Dawn to be upset, she’s never been a fan of surprises. Faye’s brown doe eyes flicker over to meet Shirley’s hazel ones. There are more beats of silence before Shirley breaks the tension.

“She’s not wrong. Not about the dumb thing; it’s just a heads up would’ve been nice.”

Her tone is soft but clearly frustrated, and it makes Faye’s heart sink a bit. She doesn’t know what to say. An apology would probably be a good start, but she’s not sorry. 

“This will be good for us,” she says earnestly. “We all said that we want to broaden our sound. Think about all the people we could meet!” 

“I’m not saying it isn’t a good opportunity. I’m saying it would have been nice to know about it before you said yes.”

Before the conversation between them can continue, Dawn reemerges glaring as she sits back on the coach next to Shirley. Joseph must have told her it’s a done deal. 

“I know how y’all are,” Faye starts, not appreciating the evil eyes she’s getting from Dawn. “It would’ve been this huge back and forth and by the time we came a conclusion, they would’ve gone with some other group.” 

“We’ve done the backup singer thing before, and we all hated it. Why would it be different now?” Shirley pipes up with a skeptical glance.

A slight chill runs up Faye’s spine thinking about that. It was right after they signed with Motown Records, and it was rough to say the least.

“I doubt doing the Chitlin’ Circuit with Pastor Buddy and the Holy Choir is gonna be the same as being in a luxury hotel,” she’s getting exasperated now. Plans have been made and they are leaving for Vegas in a couple of days anyway. “Elvis personally asked for us for this. Apparently, he’s a big fan of ours!”

A snort and an eye roll come from Dawn.

“Yeah, I hear he’s a fan of most women under the age of thirty,” she mumbles fiddling with her ring. Shirley lets out an indignant sound from the back of her throat while Faye scoffs. 

She knows they’re worried about being out west, being away from mama and papa… being away from the men they love. But what is the point of being in the group if they aren’t going to take good opportunities.

“Look, I should’ve told y’all. But think of the world this could open us up to. We could work with different producers, make connections, and meet other artists. At least that’s what the man with the funny accent said on the phone,” Faye says with a confident smile.

The two other girls share a look before Dawn lets out a deep sigh.

“I have wanted to go out west,” she says slowly, and Faye lets out a squeal and jumps up from the loveseat. “But there are conditions. If we do this, we must do it right. No getting distracted, and we run everything by each other from now.” 

Faye nods enthusiastically taking each one their hands.

“I have the best feeling about this!”

The next couple of days were a whirlwind for the girls. Packing, staying goodbye to their parents and loved ones, and preparing for a new chapter. Faye always gets anxiety about going on planes. Or maybe this time it’s the nerves of this opportunity. She doesn’t want her sisters to see her sweat; this was her decision at the end of the day.

“My feet are killing me,” Shirley sighs softly, swaying from foot to foot looking at her heeled boots. They walked in the beautiful theater of The International Hotel with other members of the band and backup. 

“I told you not to wear those expensive death traps to begin with,” Dawn pushes her curls over her shoulder. “Would be nice if we could meet him already.” 

They had been in Vegas for five days now and have met everyone in the staff but the star himself.  

“He’s probably bu-…... oh wow,” Before Faye can finish her sentence, the sound slight commotion, and flashes of red and gold catches everyone’s eye.

It’s a sight to behold, Elvis Presley in the flesh. Adorned in a red pirate shirt, and a flashy belt. The sisters watch him go around and introduce himself to members of the band. Faye’s heart rate rises a bit the closer he gets to them. Despite already enjoying his music, she starts to understand how people can’t get enough him. The fainting, the crying, the fawning; it all makes perfect sense. Being charming will always go far in this business.

“He has quite the presence,” whispers Dawn. Even she sounds a little mystified watching him work a room. “Oh, look alive y’all. He’s coming over here.” 

Faye instinctively brings her hand to her hair, trying to make sure each hair is in its proper place. 

“There they are. The ladies of the hour!”

Faye wishes she could see their faces because she’s sure they look like deer in headlights. Shirley seems to be the first one to break out of the trance and goes to shake his hand.

“It’s so nice meeting you. Thank you for inviting us out here,” Shirley, thank God, is always levelheaded in situations like this. Dawn follows suit in introducing herself, while Faye on the other hand is a bit blinded by his smile.

“Pleasure is all mine darlins’. Big, big fan,” he replies brightly, dazzling blue eyes shift to Faye. “And you must be Faye, the one who asked about the costume budget.” 

Dawn and Shirley both hold in giggles while Faye cringes recounting the conservation she had with Elvis’s manager. She was a bit curious about what they would wear, sue her. She also did not know “the Colonel” would take that note back to his boss.

Sensing her slight embarrassment, he brings her hand up to his lips to kiss it.

“Nothin’ wrong with a woman knowin’ what she wants.”

Oh

“EP! We need to get this show on the road,” a voice from the group of men that came in with him calls out. 

While Faye tries to make sense of the interaction she just had, he politely excuses himself to get rehearsals officially started. The girls are silent for a moment, nothing but the sound of instruments tuning and people mingling flowing between them. Faye catches the look that Dawn and Shirley give each other. She hates that, the innate way they can say so much with just glances at each other.

Faye can’t help but wonder what their eyes are saying to each other. Instead of asking, she pushes those feelings aside and reminds herself how great the next couple of weeks will be. How good they must be.

#austin!elvis x oc #austin!elvis x black!oc #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis imagine #black!oc #black!reader #elvis x reader #my writing #black authors #flew too close to the sun #elvis presley #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic