#BELIEVE he would try to be friends with the ATTIC CHILD

[horrendousmustard]

had an awesome daydream, Kaneki and I were small children in a fancy orphanage (I was 9 he was like 11-12) and he caught a snake somehow and put it in a box and wanted to show everyone, and he made me follow him (I follow him everywhere on instinct) up the stairs and down the hall and into the silly room and back out and into another room with like 4 things in it and into the girls bedchamber and back down the stairs and down the hall and into the cook room (he wanted to show the chefs a fucking snake!!!!!!!) and back down the hall and into the prayer room and into the yard and to the veggie patch and back inside and up the stairs and into the schoolroom and into the boys bedchamber and up into the creepy scary attic with spiders in it and then when we came back the headmaster was there and we got in trouble and he had to put it back

[ckret2]

I'd love to know more about Bartholomew, and how they befriended him! although it is very funny that something that wild happened entirely offscreen XD

I thought this would be short, but apparently I had more to say about Barty than I thought! So here:

Bartholomew was acquired from a crane game filled with haunted dolls that was set up at Gravity Falls' mall. I do not know why that crane game was there. It's just the kind of thing that happens in Gravity Falls. Each haunted doll is possessed by the evil ghost of a creepy Victorian child. Dipper & Mabel didn't discover this until the next night.

In life, Bartholomew was a 14-year-old necromancer who bound his spirit to a doll so he could live forever—which is why he happens to know so much about poppets and can teach the twins how they work. He's hoping they'll bind Bill to a poppet, he'll die, and he'll remain attached to the poppet, so Bartholomew will have a new haunted doll pal.

(He was not friends with the other dolls in the crane game machine. You know how it turns out wild wolves in normal packs are really friendly and cooperative with each other, and vicious alpha wolf dominance fights only happen when wolves are forced together in captivity and are stressed and defensive? Yeah. That crane game was cramped. Nobody made friends in there.)

He's spent over a century as your typical feared creepy haunted doll, shuffling between locked trunks and antique malls and dusty attics and paranormal investigators' houses that mysteriously burn down and thrift shops. His prior crimes could fuel a horror movie series fit to rival any Chucky or Annabelle you could think of.

His original ambition—as it always is when he's in a house with a boy age 12 to 17—is to murder the kid (and anyone who tries to stop him) and take over his life. We are unclear on how an immobile porcelain doll intends to pose as a living human child. I'm not sure he's ever thought through that part of the plan. He thought killing Dipper would've made a particularly sweet deal since he would've gotten a free sister out of it.

It turns out he does all this because he's desperately lonely and unloved after over a century as a creepy haunted doll, and he just wants a family and friends his own age again. Mabel quelled his murderous urges by saying he can have a bed and live in their room and be their friend as long as he doesn't kill anyone. Usually when kids find out he's alive, they run crying to the adults about the scary living doll begging to get rid of it, and the adults either don't believe them or join in trying to get rid of him. Running into a couple of kids that are totally chill with a haunted doll as long as he doesn't commit murder is a new experience for him. This is the most positive socialization he's had since he died. He's turned around real fast.

So far, Mabel and Dipper haven't told anyone else about Bartholomew. Not on purpose, they just kind of dealt with it on their own at like 3 a.m. and then never thought to bring him up to the adults. Even Bill hasn't noticed him yet. Probably in late August the kids'll end up in a conversation with the grunkles like "wait, did we really forget to mention the haunted doll we've been living with all summer??" Typically he only speaks in front of children. There's a chance Candy and Grenda have been told about him, but due to the Bill situation they haven't been over to meet Barty yet.

He was not in Gravity Falls last year and doesn't really get who Bill Cipher is. What he knows is that Bill is a cute girl who's allegedly a guy who's allegedly some kind of demon from space who can single-handedly destroy Earth. He's read War of the Worlds, he knows all about destroyers from space; but he didn't realize Martians have demons too. He just kind of accepts this all as true, but doesn't really fear Bill (except when he thinks Bill might be in a mood to smash delicate porcelain dolls).

Dipper and Mabel often catch him posed like he was doing something right before other people came in. Sometimes they come home and Barty is posed like he's been petting Waddles. They don't know if this means he's actually let Waddles see him move.

Have you ever watched The Boy? He looks and moves kind of like The Boy, although he's closer to the size of a baby doll and a bit less realistic. Creepy formally-dressed porcelain doll, only moves when nobody's in the room and/or looking at it.

His haunted doll powers include creepily turning off all the lights, writing messages on foggy windows/mirrors, causing disembodied knocking/rattling, slowly dragging the bedsheet off a sleeping child in the middle of the night, teleporting when no one's looking, slipping strange whispers into TV/radio/cassette audio, causing furniture to rearrange in strange ways during the night, and—if he gets really mad or distressed—he can briefly act as a poltergeist and make things levitate and fly around.

As a ghost possessing a doll, he's able to see other ghosts. This makes him—along with Bill, disembodied-Dipper, [redacted], [redacted], and sometimes [redacted]—one of the few members of the cast that can see the mindscape.

He secretly doesn't mind that Mabel calls him Barty Mew-Mew and is increasingly beginning to think he'd kind of like being a catboy. Mabel will be ecstatic when she finds out.

[oc-tournaments]

ROUND ONE - MATCH 3

B vs SUDO HIGASHIKATA

B: @kittyonakeyboard

SUDO HIGASHIKATA: @mitsubinyuri

VOTE BASED ON THE INFORMATION BELOW CUT!!

Propoganda Content Warnings: Childbirth complications, neglect, possession for B. Major JJBA JoJolion spoilers, parental death for SUDO.

B:

PROPAGANDA: so her mother and baby brother died in childbirth and her and her older brother were raised in an attic alone left to starve (for the most part) and when her and her brother finally try to escape her big brother gets his brains blown out with a shotgun. she runs to the barn and meets a girl there who becomes her best friend and crush (Clara) and later outside of the forest she was escaping from she found a little girl who would be her sister (Sicily). she gets adopted with Sicily and Clara gets adopted by her adopted moms friend. these girls at school gaslight (*actually* gaslight) and manipulate her best friend into believing B is a terrible person and so they convince Clara to put a curse on B where shes stuck with a god of death n shit in her head 24/7 and anytime she has a breakdown the god can take over her body and control her and she has to live with that for the rest of her life (this was written pre-the owl house i promise u). after high school clara p much ditches her out of guilt and only comes back years later after med school in paris to fully apologize and try to rekindle their friendship and they eventually (after a WHILE and a lot of character growth) get together and then go kill B's dad.

THEME SONG:

SUDO HIGASHIKATA:

PROPOGANDA: Sudo was born into the world with no dad because her dad died violently like a while before she was born, before her mom even let him know she was expecting. As a kid, her mom was trying her best, but couldn't really do shit sometimes because she'd have these melancholic days where she'd be stuck in the past and basically could not get out of bed to take care of her kid. This drove a bit of a wedge between them, especially when she forgot her birthday due to one of these days. Sudo is left completely in the dark about the situation surrounding her dad, she only knows he died violently. She doesn't know about the context of his death or how he killed three people and tried to kill another one and also severely injured his dad (her grandfather) because he genuinely believed what he was doing was best for the family. At age seven, Sudo discovers her Stand, which lets her speak to the dead as long as she's in the same spot they died. Although she knows she could use it for speaking to him, her older brother advises her not to, so she never does until age fifteen after a major argument with her mother. She starts talking to him as much as she can, but "as much as she can" is not often, because she can only talk to the same person for five minutes at a time once a week. She confides in him, and the two become close. However, after meeting someone with the power to appraise her stand, she learns the truth about her power. The father she's been talking to is not him- he doesn't have a soul at all. He is a construct made to imitate him using data of his personality and memories, essentially just a character ai. Her dad is gone forever. She'll never truly get to talk to him, and he'll never even know he has a daughter.

THEME SONG:

[bobgasm]

present day | the chest [01/04]

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x reader word count: 2062 warnings: loss, grieving, backstory,

summary: in which you find some old letters while cleaning

author’s note: sorry this took so long, i wrote a 15k oneshot that consumed my life momentarily

the chest | sincerely, | the namesake

The house was quiet when you arrived just before nine. Thankfully, it didn’t stay quiet for long. You set up your speaker, played the top 100, and got to work.

You’d always hated cleaning, but found it calming and therapeutic when you were stressed. Your mum had always sounded crazy when she said it was therapeutic, but now you were a firm believer in her method to madness.

Your dad and his siblings had been busy over the last couple of weeks trying to pack up the house. They’d gone room by room sorting and organizing your grandpa Michael’s belongings. Getting rid of old bedding or donating old clothes and furniture. The house was now bare, aside from the last few pieces of furniture that your dad would be taking to your place in the coming days.

Great-grandma June had been a spitfire of a woman. Growing up, she’d told you stories of her childhood. How her family had immigrated from Ireland in the early 1930’s. How she’d met her husband not long before he got drafted to fight in the war. How they relocated from Boston to San Diego when she was pregnant with your grandfather, Michael. 

She’d been your best friend when you were younger. You always loved going to her place to bake cookies or help her in the garden. She’d never seemed old to you. Always keeping up with you and your siblings whenever you went around to visit. 

When she passed away in early 2016, it had been a shock to everyone. Her son, your grandpa Michael, had moved in with her in her final days, and once she passed, he had to reason to leave. He missed his mum. 

Now he was being moved into a care home not too far away, and the house was being stripped and cleaned for auction. He needed the money from the house to pay for his stay at the care home, and while this house held memories you’d cherish forever, you knew you’d still have them. Even if you didn’t have the house.

You started cleaning in the kitchen and slowly made your way through the rest of the house. Making sure every room was spotless before heading up to the attic to make sure nothing else had been left there.

There were a few boxes of board games and a chest with old toys. You took them back downstairs and put them in your car, figuring you’d ask your dad what you should do with them later. Just wanting to get them out of the house for the time being, since the agents would go through tomorrow to take pictures for the listing. 

You gave the attic one final sweep after dusting and found a small chest tucked away near the overhang of the roof. You almost missed it, but it looked out of place. Carefully, you pulled it from its spot and opened it, sitting on the floor as you pulled the stack of letters from inside.

The papers were frail and wilting around the edges. Some of the writing was illegible, but from the few you could read, you wondered who Bob and Evelyn Floyd were. Were they friends of Michael’s, or of June?

The first letter was dated 1944, from Bob Floyd to his darling Evelyn. He expressed his fears, his sorrow at the loss of his brother, and his elation for their expected baby. 

You swiped at your eyes after finishing the first letter, and was already picking up the next. You felt weird for reading their private letters, but why were they in the attic of your family’s home?

The next letter was one that Evelyn had written back. Her words were sweet and expressed just as much sorrow and elation. Asking Bob if they could name their child after his brother if the baby was a boy, or if he liked the name Louise if they were a girl.

Your heart felt heavy as you opened the next letter, almost laughing as Bob told Evelyn the story of how he got his call sign, Pirate. Because he was nursing a little bird back to health and it sat perched on his shoulder while he taught. But then the tears were back as he pondered if he’d be a good father, before professing he couldn’t think of any better names for their baby then their own. Evie Louise, or Robert Lonnie Floyd.

By the time you reached for the next letter, the tears rolled down your cheeks with no intervention from you. Even if you wanted to stop them, stop reading the letters, you couldn’t.

It was when Evelyn wrote about your great-grandma June that you sobbed. Placing a hand over your mouth as you read how Evelyn watched Amelia while June was in hospital giving birth to Michael. 

They’d become friends. June and Evelyn were friends, and that was why the letters had been in the attic.

Had Evelyn asked June to give them to her baby? Why hadn’t she?

The next letter was from Bob telling Evelyn he’d be home soon. That he had a mission to complete before he’d be home, but he’d tell her more when he knew.

You couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your stomach. Dear god, please let Bob come home safely. He has a new baby, for crying out loud!

You wipe at your tears and try to get a hold of yourself before starting on the next letter, but your attempts and gaining control of your emotions are futile. Evelyn is asking whether Bob received her last letter, and that she’s worried because she hasn’t heard from him in a while. 

She gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Robert Lonnie Floyd. Evelyn and June are planning a joint Christmas for their kids, and she’s hoping that they’ll all be together if Bob and June’s husband can’t make it. She hopes they do make it, though. 

The letter is signed by Evelyn and Robbie, and your tears fall faster. Your heart aches, because you can see the next letter in the chest. It’s typed out, rather than handwritten like the rest, and you know. You know what’s coming, but you still torture yourself by reading it.

It’s from Fleet Admiral Blair, and he’s telling Evelyn that her husband, Robert Floyd was killed in action only a few days after she sent her last letter.

You wished things had ended differently for them. You wished Bob got to meet his son, and that Evelyn never had to live through the pain of losing her husband. You wished you knew why June had their letters. 

Carefully, you put the letters back into the chest and closed it. You dried your face with the hem of your shirt and tried to calm your breathing. 

You didn’t know what to do. Did you call your dad and ask if he knew about the letters? Did you go and see your grandpa and ask if he knew about them, or if he knew where Evelyn and Robbie were? Since he was born about a month before Robbie, surely they were close? That they had grown up together?

Rising to your feet, you tucked the small chest under your arm and climbed back down the stairs. Tucking them back up before grabbing the last of your things and locking up before climbing into your car. The chest of letters sat on the passenger seat as you drove to the local watering hole, The Hard Deck, and pulled into a free park. 

The first thing you wanted to do was have a drink for Bob and Evelyn, and their son wherever he may be. Then, you planned on enjoying a burger before you decided what to do next. With the time being a little before eight, it was too late to bother your grandpa Michael. It could wait another day. The letters had already been sitting in the attic collecting dust for a good seventy years. Another day wouldn’t seem like much in the grand scheme of things.

The Hard Deck was a hotspot for the local Navy men and women. It wasn’t your first choice, but since Bob had been in the Navy, you felt like having a drink somewhere he might’ve frequented. Especially after a long day of cleaning.

You’d been here a few times before, when you were home for college break and wanted to see if any of the Navy guys looked good enough to let them buy you a drink. Sure, there were some strikingly attractive men, but their egos were on a whole other planet. Each time they proved to you why you should stay away, and you’d heeded their warning. 

Today, you were here to celebrate Bob and Evelyn Floyd. Today, you were grieving their love, their lives. 

You ordered a drink. Just a beer since you still had to drive home. Picking at the label as the moisture softened it until all the edges were loose. 

“Rough day?” The bartender asked you.

You looked up at her and gave her a weak smile, hoping you didn’t look as rough as you felt.

“Something like that,” you admitted. “I found some old letters in my grandfather’s attic while cleaning today. They’re from World War Two.”

“Love letters?”

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a sip of beer. “It seemed like my grandfather’s mom was looking after them for her friend, possibly to pass them on to her son. I don’t know if she forgot, or the son moved away, or why they were still sitting there after seventy-odd years.”

“Wow, that’s, wow,” she said.

You chuckled out a small laugh. “Yeah, I feel kind of bad for reading them. Like they weren’t meant for me. But my great grandfather fought in the war, too. I thought maybe they were theirs. Now I feel bad for invading their privacy, but also for their loss. He died, the husband. After the wife had just given birth to a little boy.”

“Oh, that’s heartbreaking.” She placed a hand over her chest as you swiped at your eyes.

“I felt like I needed to have a drink for them, you know? In case the world forgot about them.”

She smiled at you and handed you a napkin from nearby. “That’s sweet,” she said. “You sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

You dabbed at your eyes with the napkin, willing yourself to stop crying. You gulped down more of your drink, letting your eyes fall back to the bar. Reading the sign that was hung up and barely able to crack a smile. Remembering the first time you saw the sign and had witnessed a few Naval officers carrying out a patron because of it. 

You looked up when the bartender came back, placing another beer in front of you.

“Courtesy of the man in the glasses,” she told you.

Your eyes quickly found the man in the glasses slowly turning away. Dressed in a neatly pressed khaki uniform. Barely a strand of hair out of place. A solemn nod in your direction, all the acknowledgement he needed that you’d received his gift. 

“Oh, that was nice of him,” you told her.

“I thanked him for you,” she continued, offering you a smile. “He’s not expecting anything in return, either. Wanted me to make sure you knew that.”

“Huh? That’s new,” you replied, finishing the last of your first beer before toying with the new one. “Usually they all want something.”

She chuckled at your reaction. “Normally I’d agree, so trust me when I say it’s all good. Can I get you anything else, hon?”

“I’m good, thank you.” You replied with a smile. “How much for the first beer?”

“He took care of that, too.”

“Cute bastard. Thank him again for me, will you?”

She laughed. “Of course. Hope you feel better, hon.”

She left you to enjoy the next beer, and you savoured it. Unlike the first where you couldn’t drink it fast enough, you took your time with this one. Hoping the cute guy with the glasses would come back to the bar so you could strike up a conversation and thank him yourself. 

The kindness of a stranger was always something you found weird. But there was something about this stranger that had you finding it endearing. 

[mochiponadventures]

Punishment

...

Juliana was busy helping her mother in the garden when she heard someone approaching. It was Kieran. He carried a small box in his hands and gave Juliana a big smile.

"Hey Juli, i brought you some cookies made by my sis. Believe it or not, she fell in love with that home ed class at your school and is now full on trying out everything they learn there" This amused Juliana quite a lot, seeing as Carmine didn´t really looked like she would engage in such things at all...

"Thank you, i really appreciate it!" She got up from her position and walked over to Kieran, hugging him. "So i take that you two enjoy Naranja Academy so far?"

The boy nodded, still smiling.

"Yeah, it´s really nice here and the teachers are certainly different from those at Blueberry Academy" Less strict and way more more lenient, Kieran mused, chuckling. "Let me put these cookies inside the house before the sun melts them. It´s quite hot today. Do you want something to drink?" Juliana asked, taking the box from her friend, carrying it inside. "Yes please!" He replied, looking around the lot he was standing on. The garden really was beautiful and certainly ripe with all kinds of fruits and vegetables.

Just as he wanted to follow Juliana inside, he saw Ogerpon swiping the patio with a broom, looking all but not pleased. When his friend came back, he gently nudged the girl, pointing towards the sweeping pokemon. "What´s up with Ogi? She looks really angry, did something happen?"

At that, Juliana sighed, giving Keiran his drink.

"It´s a punishment, she did something very bad and is now living through the consequences of it. Right Ogi?" She turned towards the young Pokemon, raising a brow. There was only an indignified huff as answer as she continued to sweep the ground.

"What did she do?" Kieran asked.

"Well, she sneaked up in the attic, got her Iron Cudgel, which by the way she is forbidden from using outside of battles, and decided to hit Momo on top of his head with it..."

Ogi only rolled with her eyes.

"Don´t give me that eyeroll, young lady! We don´t hit in this house and you know that!"

"POOOOOOOOOOON PON!" Ogi replied dramatically, it was amazing how close it sounded to a child, whining. Kieran chuckled, shaking his head. "Poor Momo, i bet that must have hurt!"

"He cried for hours afterwards. I even had to take him to the Pokemon Center! And you know how he likes going there..." Momo had a severe phobia of hospital settings and thus, every visit to the Pokemon Center or it´s sick bay, made the little Pokemon flew into a giant panic attack. "Don´t even get me started when its time for his shots...you don´t wanna see him there..."

Kieran nodded at that, feeling sorry for the little Peach.

"You know, Ogi and Momo are pretty much like Carmine and me when it comes to sibling quabbles. She used to hit me too when i was too annoying for her taste. Of course never so bad that i had to go to the hospital, but still." The memories of these events were still fresh inside his head, albeit it had been years by now that they happened.

"Speaking of Momo, where is he? Terapagos wanted to go play with him as soon he heard me talking about going to visit you!"

"Oh i laid him down for a nap. The heat is making him kind of drowsy and i don´t want him to get a sunburn or heatstroke either. He is in my room." Keiran mused at that for a moment, it was really hot he had to admit. No wonder even Pokemon got bothered by it.

"That´s a shame, but of course his health goes first. I hope he feels better after that nap." He took a sip from his lemonade by now and relished at the taste. "This is really good. Perfect for a hot summer day!" Juliana nodded eagerly. "Yeah, my mom makes the best lemonade around here. Nemona, Arven and Penny can testify to that!" She laughed, pulling Kieran over to her, nuzzling his cheek.

"That said, I am done with gardening for now, why don´t you come inside and we can watch a couple movies? We have an air conditioner too, so it´s nice and cool inside." Before going inside though, she called over Ogi, allowing her a break as well.

"You can take a break as well, Ogi. Take a glass of the lemonade and go inside, okay? I don´t want you to get overheated either...you can continue later!"

Ogerpon was first relieved to finally being able to stop sweeping but got hit by the word "break", which meant that she had to continue later on, which did not sit right with her at all. Pouting she listened to Juliana and went inside with a huff, throwing the broom on the ground, probably to make a point.

"She still has a long way to go..." Juliana sighed, taking Kierans hand, pulling him inside. "Then again, i can´t really blame her. She never had someone to tell her what is right and what is wrong..."

"I think you´re doing a pretty good job as her trainer so far, so don´t worry about it!" They kissed each other and went inside together, hand in hand.

Inside the house there was a commotion going on already, Momo seemingly had woken from his slumber and was now darting through the house, visibly full of energy. From what Juliana could see, he had cookie crumbs around his cheeks which only could mean one thing...he must have gotten in the cookies Kieran had brought and Momo now effectively had a bona fide sugar rush.

"I think someone gourged themselves on your sisters cookies, Kieran..." Juliana chuckled, watching her youngest charge zooming around the house, giggling like crazy. Ogi followed him, visibly annoyed but also with cookie crumbs around her mouth.

"Now that Momo´s awake, i can let out Terapagos as well, that´s what he wanted anyway!" Kieran exclaimed, calling out his friend from inside his ball. "Alright Tera, go have fun with Momo!"

The young Pokemon did not wasted a minute and quickly got a hold of both Momo and Ogi.

"You think they let us watch our movies in peace?" Kieran asked, looking at Juliana with an amused look. "We can try, let´s go before there is yet another incident caused by this trio in the back"

And with that, both Juliana and Kieran sat down and enjoyed a couple hours together, with the joyful and livid background noises of playing Pokemon.

[thygoddessouijathicc]

Dr. Henry Miller is a frog.

Remember a long time ago in a faraway land when I made a low quality theory that claimed Henry was in fact a frog?

I’m not sorry. In fact, fuck you, fuck your mom, fuck your long lost twin hidden in the attic who creepily plays piano when the house is quiet and wears a mask of Merida from Brave to hide their deformed face.

I fucking stand by it.

Henry is a frog, we know this much by now. His hue is one frogs can have and he seems to lack features like ears and a nose. Rather frog behaviour if you ask me.

But now I ask YOU… do his teeth look real? No right, far too big they basically hold the poor guy’s mouth open by force implying need for severe dental intervention. I believe these teeth not to be real teeth at all but simply cartoonishly large dentures he got from a joke shop. We know he’d attend such a place because while he is characterized rather serious he was known for blowing up urinals causing Freddy’s bathrooms to have cams and of course just loving to laugh at all things especially dying people. He seems to have a rather good sense of humour!

So no ears, no nose, no teeth, probably no butthole ei- yeah you know what doesn’t have these things? A fuckin frog. Now I ask you does he not appear moist? He looks grimy, sticky even. Frog.

Now my last theory argues this was normal HOWEVER I have since come to believe that Henry is in fact not natural… to our world. No I’m not calling another DSAF character an alien bare with me.

See if this was normal it would change a lot. We’d see frog people. We’d see noticeable change to history as frog people grow around humanity, new inventions, fuck, new frog racism. I’m not even kidding here if frog people existed I am sure humans would be racist towards them we can’t handle people having a different dominant hand than us for fucks sake humans kinda just suck like that. There would be frog politics. Frog moistening rooms. And most of all Henry would feel no need to disguise himself with something as silly as fake teeth.

No our frog man came from another world entirely. But but but let’s be clear it’s not like with Dave who seems to have just come out of nowhere Henry interacted with people, he understands his inhumanity and actively hides it almost as if he was taught how. He has knowledge of reality far greater than that which is normal as if… otherworldly.

My dear poor stupid reader, Henry can only come from one place and once place only.

Amphibia.

Even more than that Henry is a pink frog with a sense of humour and the knowledge of how to disguise himself as human. Friends, comrades, giant enemy spiders, Henry is Sprig.

A Sprig from a tragic world where Anne never comes back from death who leaves his home and family behind in order to try to get Anne back after Hop Pop becomes an alcoholic to deal with the grief. He finds himself transported into the human world but… in the past, forced to bide his time and search for a cure to the big dead getting both medical and spiritual knowledge, taking part in the war where he looses his tongue and hat via arrow to the knee. He tattoos his eyes black and takes Dave to start Fredbear after the circus proves useless and the rest is history.

Henry is Sprig from Amphibia it all lines up it all makes sense who else would be able to create such war crimes but a guy with a slingshot, a slingshot being the earliest signs in a child of psychotic tendencies. “Sprig has hair” you say? He lost it in the war and due to stress. “This is stupid” you say, I say any other answer is madness. “The frogs in Amphibia have teeth and in proving they are fake you prove-“ FAKE. TEETH. The government is lying to you to hide this great truth.

Henry Miller is Sprig, this is fact. It had been in front of us all along we were just too blind to see it.

…

BAIIIIIIIIII

[mangoshorthand]

Arrow of Time- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Chapter 1 (Hard Feelings Part 5)

SUMMARY: When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there? Chapter 2 >> << Back to prologue

You've had a shit day at work, Aoife has a secret and Five has a panic attack.

We're looking at a big ol' time jump friends.

Chapter One: My Bambina

“Now look: p(𝑥) is a polynomial and k is an integer. So we gotta put the 𝑥-2 on the outside and then what do we put on the inside….?” When she stares blankly, he prompts her, “We start with 𝑥 cubed…and what then?”

Aoife sits at the desk, looking up at him with his own eyes. The same expression of panicked frustration is still there, writ large.

“ Cosa non capisci, cara?” 

“ Tutto!” she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air and a whine entering her voice, “I still don’t get it, Dad.”

He sighs, running his fingers down his face before turning from the dry erase and placing the lid on his pen.

“This important stuff, tesoro. We have to grasp this to understand limit cycles.”

“Why won’t you let me just try?!”

He lets out an angry sigh, praying to a deity he doesn’t believe in to give him strength. Five is not a patient man by nature, but the last thirteen years of fatherhood had expanded his capacity tenfold…but everyone has their limit.

“You know why,” he grinds out, teeth gritted tightly together, “because you’re averaging a D+ in math and if you try to time travel without even basic understanding-”

From the entrance hall, the grandfather clock chimes, just audible up the attic stairs. Immediately, her head whips to face him, throwing down her pencil.

“You said we’d stop at seven.”

“Aoife- you have to get this.”

“You promised,” s he says, looking for all the world as if he’d been applying thumbscrews rather than teaching her rudimentary polynomial division, “that’s so unfair!”

He stifles a groan. God help him- he loves this girl more than life itself but her overly-developed teenage sense of injustice is infuriating, especially when she puts on that goddamn ‘woe is me’ voice. 

Suddenly, he finds himself smiling; it’s pretty cute, now he thinks on it. His little girl, all anger and injured entitlement.  

“Okay,” he says, softening, “just humor me for five more minutes and then I promise I’ll let you go. Come with me to the study.”

With a huffed-out sigh expressing that she is the most unfairly treated child in the world, Aoife follows his blink with her own, alighting from her portal sat atop Reginald’s desk.

“Smooth landing,” Five says, approvingly. “One tip though: never blink somewhere so specific unless you can see it or you know damn well that the space is empty: you’re sitting on a fountain pen.”

Aoife hops off the desk immediately, letting out a noise of shocked dismay as she turns to see the ink-spot spreading on the butt cheek of her favorite white jeans.

“Don’t worry, it will come out in the wash,” he murmurs, sitting down casually behind the desk and reaching into the lowest drawer.

Aoife takes her own seat across from him, looking around the study with interest. Dad had never exactly forbidden her from coming in here without him, but he made his disapproval obvious if he ever caught her in here alone. If he thought that would stop her finding the room fascinating, then he’s even more of a dumbass than Aoife was quickly coming to suspect he is…that she's been coming to suspect both her parents are, actually.

“Take a look at this. I call it a temporal ambimeter: I built it around ten years ago.”

Onto the desktop, he carefully places a small instrument: Attached to a three-footed metal plinth is what looks like a full circle protractor marked with incomprehensible measurements. It drifts, turning a sedate three hundred and sixty degrees clockwise. On top of the circle, seeming to float, is a spindly metal needle, held at a perfect horizontal along the protractor’s diameter by invisible forces. Even from this distance, Aoife can feel a tingle in the ends of her fingers.

“This is time,” he says, simply, ghosting his finger along the line of the needle, static crackling there as he does so: “This is  an absolute line of polarity. Can you feel it?”

Aoife nods, fascinated in spite of herself.

“Go on,” he said, smiling slightly, “feel it like I did.”

Stretching out her fingers Aoife, imitates her Dad- sparks flying as she runs her fingers along it like a tiny theremin. The sensation is like blood rushing back to fill dead fingers. Mentally, it’s more complex than that.

“There’s something…it feels.”

Five helps, though he’s barely able to put it into words himself, “Like putting the last jigsaw piece in?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, “it feels…right.”

“That’s because it is. Come here.”

She stands on slightly numb legs and walks around the desk to where Five waits for her with an arm outstretched. Though she resists slightly, (ever more often shying away from cripplingly uncool parental affection), he puts his arm around her anyway.

“Watch.”

For this demonstration, he only needs to reverse time five seconds or so, but it’s always an effort, especially when taking somebody else. At least he doesn’t need to physically move their bodies.

Aoife felt time contract around her under her Dad’s power, holding onto his arm for dear life: he’d never done this with her before.

“Watch,” he says, voice cracking with the strain.

She looks down at the instrument: the protractor shudders to a halt and turns anti-clockwise along with the physical sensation of time reversing, speeding up as Five really gets hold and reverses the seconds.

“The…needle stays in place though.” he says, still straining “S-still feels like the last jigsaw piece, right?”

He’s right: though the rest of the instrument wavers in the current of Five’s power, the needle stays perfectly still.

He grunts and relinquishes his hold on the seconds, taking a deep breath and stretching out his neck. The protractor begins to turn slowly clockwise again.

“See,” he says, grinning at Aoife, “that’s a constant. No matter the timeline, no matter the paradox, that’s what stays in place. It’s what I access when I manipulate time, and you will too, one day. But cara, this stuff is fragile. That’s why you need to have a sound theoretical understanding before you try, okay? You know I don’t say this just to be a tight-ass, right?”

He pulls her closer as he says it, planting a kiss just above her ear.

“ Capisco papà. Posso partire adesso?”

“Sì, he sighs, “I need to go for a bike ride anyway. But not before I get a hug, right?”

She hugs him, laying her head on his shoulder momentarily before throwing off the childish impulse.

“You’re still my bambina whether you like it or not,” he says, raising his voice as she leaves, laughing at her little ‘uggh’ of disgust. Had he been like this when he was thirteen?

No: he’d been like this by the time he was nine. When he was thirteen, he was far, far worse.

Dad had cycled for as long as she could remember. It was only recently she’d noticed just how embarrassing his bike shorts and helmet were, but at least she didn’t have to be seen with him when he was out on the bike.

When she’d heard the door close and could be sure her mom was busy in another part of the house, Aoife blinked from her bedroom back into her father’s study, concealing the notebook under her sweatshirt.

This room had once been her grandfather’s but  in the years since his death Five had worked his way so naturally into using it regularly that it was now informally acknowledged as his. Until it became firmly her father’s domain, Aoife had never dared step foot in here. Even now, his bedroom,  (all but untouched since his death) is the one room in the house Aoife has never dared to go.

The oil-paintings of him still hanging around the house held a curious fascination for her, and this one above the study fireplace was no exception. He stood tall, hand domineeringly over a walking cane. She and her cousin Santi both agreed: Reginald hung like a spectre around the house along with those of the tortured children the Umbrella Academy once were. He was cruel, exacting…and had been her personal bogeyman ever since she could remember. The portrait always started with cold eyes, so unlike those of her young father hanging in the living room. Five’s portrait always made her smile; Reginald’s always made her feel like she was being watched.

The journals are kept in a locked, glass-fronted cabinet and it had only taken her an hour of searching the study to find the key. They’re ordered from 1-6 and each number has several volumes.  She started from  01, I and has just finished 05, VII. Reading these journals has been spookier than Aoife had even imagined. Reading about her Uncle Klaus being locked in a mausoleum in 04, XII had given her nightmares for a week.

Quite why Reginald has this hold on her imagination, she doesn’t know, but keeping it a secret is electrifying. Perhaps if she told Mom and Dad about her pre-bedtime reading, the spell would be broken. The journals concerning her Dad have been generally less interesting: he seemed to have been the perfect student and Reginald had only positive things to say about his skills (although was less impressed by his ‘‘impudence’). Nevertheless Aoife placed 05, VII back beside 05, VI and reached to pull the next journal out of line.

Reading roman numbers did not come naturally to Aoife, yet after a quick look at the previous journals, she realized something was wrong: 05, VII was followed immediately by 05 IX … there was one missing from when her father was eight.

For now, she took 05 IX and blinked back into her room…this was a mystery for another day.

Work is…not great right now. You’ve always been ambitious, (something Five regularly teases you for) and you worked hard over your twenty-year career. You’ve been at your new firm for three years now and you’ve got the fancy private office and a team of thirty subordinates. It’s busy and exhausting but it would be fine if the bullshit ended when you got to a certain rung on the ladder…but it actually seems to get worse. 

For one thing, it turned out that the VP of sales position you had just lost out on went to an old coworker of yours: a guy called Charlie. He had been a smug chauvinist when you knew him and didn’t seem to have changed. He’d acted surprised when he bumped into you, but something about his shit-eating attitude had made it clear how much he was loving this. It was clear he hadn’t forgotten the time Five broke his nose in the parking lot of your joint workplace. You’d noted with satisfaction that surgery had still been unable to correct the damage: his nose was permanently misshapen.

Also, you’d recently raised eyebrows by turning down a huge FMCG contract; no matter how much they were willing to pay, there was no way you were going to be involved  with it after you found out that it was the same people behind JUICED, trying to get back into the market after the poisoning scandal you and Five had uncovered. It was a cockroach of a company: surviving anything, no matter how severe.

So now, mentally drained, you lounge in the main living room, having dumped your stuff unceremoniously on the floor. You were absurdly grateful when Lila, unasked, had poured you both a glass of wine. Now, she lies at the other end of the sofa, trying to take your mind off it with talk about her son: the nephew you’d known since he was seven.

“He seems okay…” her mouth pulls downwards, “but I don’t think things are going well at the lab.”

You sigh, “why?”

“It’s your fault, really,” she says, giving you a slightly stern look, “I knew those researchers wouldn’t have a chance, but it’s you that got it into Santi’s head that he’s under some kind of moral obligation to all mankind or something.”

You look down…she’s not wrong. You were definitely very vocal in encouraging Santi’s attempts to ensure his healing powers could be harnessed by medical science.  

“He’s not obligated,” you say, guiltily, “but it is important to at least try.”

“Yeah, and now he’s put his entire life on hold to be some kind of bleeding-heart lab rat.”

There’s no real anger in her voice: Santi was always a sensitive boy and now he’s grown into a principled young man. Though Lila doesn’t share his ideals, she’s proud of him for having them.

A static buzz; a crash from the atrium and the sound of labored male breathing. Five.

You’re off the sofa almost before Lila’s registered something’s wrong. Five half kneels and half lies on the tiles, covered in sweat, gasping for breath and clutching his chest. His bike lies on top of him, his ankle caught in the chain. His eyes are wide, terrified: his breath comes in desperate, vocalized “hahs” low in his chest.

Immediately, you kneel behind him and place your body between his and the floor.You recognise the symptoms immediately.

“H-help,” another of those pained grunts of breath, “my heart.”

“It’s okay. It’s just a panic attack,” you say, holding your arms around his chest as Lila appears in the living room doorway, “you’ll be okay.”

“N-no!” beneath your arms, his heart kicks like a rabbit in a snare.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” you soothe…but it’s worrying. He’s not had a panic attack like this in over ten years.

With another <ffssht>, Aoife appears, she looks from her Dad to you in panic.

“He’s okay; he’s just having a little turn. Can you get the bike off him, honey?”

“I-I-‘m fine,” he wheezes, trying to reassure his daughter without much success.

“Shh. Don’t try to talk. Just breathe. Count the seconds.”

As Aoife manages to remove the bike, you smile gratefully up at her.

“Good girl.”

She sits beside you both and takes Five’s sweat-slippy hand. As he slows his breath and tries to ride out the feeling of doom, he squeezes Aoife’s hand.

“You okay shitface?” says Lila, catching Five’s eye.

He nods, eyes still wide and heart still skittering.

“Shame,” she quips.

“When you’re ready, tell me what happened,” you whisper soothingly into his ear.

“Later,” he breathes.

When his breath is almost steady again and some part of the all-consuming fear recedes, he stands up shakily, holding one of your hands each. His spandex cycling gear whispers as his limbs unfold from one another.

“I’m fine,” he says, sounding more like himself, “I just had a little freakout.”

“Did you take your pills, papà?” Aoife hangs off his arm now, resting her head against his bicep.

“ Si cara, non preoccuparti. Starò bene. Ho bisogno di sdraiarmi.” he kisses the top of her head before translating for you and Lila, “I’ll be fine. I just need to lie down.”

“Do you want me to blink you?”

The bike shorts don’t have pockets, but he puts his hands to his hips as if they did, his body leaning forward in his characteristic swagger. Still breathing a little harder than normal, he gives her his cheeky, almost grimace of a smile and vanishes is a buzz of static.

His voice echos down the stairs from the 2nd flight,

“I’m not that broken down, sweetie!”

She laughs, grins farewell to Lila and blinks away herself. The sound of quiet drumming issuing down the stairs lets you know she’s back in her room. 

You turn to Lila, holding up a single hand in farewell.

“I should check on him. I probably won’t be down again tonight- I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?.”

“Night chicken

“Night”

You follow them to the attic. Apparently you’re the only one who uses the stairs these days. 

In the last five years, the attic has been completely renovated for your family’s exclusive use. Although you prefer to sit and be sociable downstairs, you have a family living space for when you want some privacy. It’s cosy: the sloping ceilings only add to the feeling of being pleasantly enclosed.

Aoife’s old bedroom has been turned into a space to do her homework and learn the theory of time travel while her new room, (another of the old storage rooms), is devoted to sleep and her drum kit. This had been a gift purchased by Lila. While it had clearly been designed to torture Five (in which you were collateral damage), Aoife had really excelled under Lila’s tutoring. This had delighted you all, (although Five pretended to Lila that he didn’t care), and now the parts of Aoife’s bedroom walls that weren’t covered with a psychedelic jungle, (courtesy of Uncle Klaus) were covered in posters of Cindy Blackman and Meg White with the White Stripes 

Before heading to your room, you drop in on Aoife.

“Hey. Sweetie?”

She scowls immediately. It irks you and not even how much she looks like Five when she pulls that face can soften it. 

“What?” she says, annoyed, “can’t you knock?”

“Excuse me young lady” you say, hearing yourself use the ‘mom’ voice that makes you feel a million years old, “I’m happy to knock in future and I should have done it this time, but I expect you to ask nicely .”

“I shouldn’t have to ask.” she snaps, “I’m thirteen, Mom. I deserve my privacy!”

She’s always been a daddy’s girl, but recently things have gotten worse between you and her. Five’s a brilliant Dad and he doesn’t shy away from discipline when needed, but you’ve had to play bad-cop with Aoife more often than him. You never exactly disagree on parenting but your moral standards for Aoife are higher than his. Last year, when she punched Whitaker Crane in the face for making fun of her sweatshirt, Five had given only a brief show of disapproval before asking whether she’d used her right or left hook. He’d left it down to you to lecture and ground her. 

Partially as a result of his attitude, Aoife is always on the offensive when it comes to you. Arguing with her is not what you came in here for so you take a slow, deep breath. 

“Are you okay, after all that?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because that wasn’t nice to see.”

“It’s okay Mom.” she says, rolling her eyes, “I’m not a kid , I can deal with it.”

“It doesn’t matter what age you are, he’s your dad. That could still be scary.”

She rolls her eyes and pouts (something Five says she got from you) as she throws off your hand.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay sweetie,” you sigh, “but stop with the drumming please.”

“Mom,” (she draws out the word so it sounds like: ‘MoOoom’) “it’s like nine PM.”

“Yes, and your dad needs quiet!” you say, feeling the stern look on your face. “Don’t you have a math test you need to study for?”

She huffs out air like an angry horse and throws her drumsticks onto the bed in a slight show of temper.

“ Fine .” she says.

“Thank you.” you reply, eyebrows raised at the little display of temper, “now: goodnight, love you.”

She grunts. 

“Aoife?”

“Goodnight.” she says, grudgingly.

Aoife watches you sigh and withdraw before leaving the drumkit and crossing to her bed where Reginald’s notebook lies hidden between the sheets. Before her Dad appeared dramatically in the atrium, she’s been reading Reginald’s notes on him from when he was nine. They were strange: when he was seven, Reginald had still been writing about Five’s budding ‘chronokinetic’ abilities, but this edition of his journal had so far only mentioned his blink-accuracy. 

She knew that her Dad (like her) had been forbidden to time travel when he was young and the disastrous results when, at her age, he had travelled decades into the future and couldn’t return.  It seemed that something when her father was eight had put Reginald off developing this aspect of his power and made him institute this new rule.

For her part, Aoife has another pre-bedtime secret which developed a couple of months ago: almost as soon as she started reading 05, III. 

Grabbing the old Wonder Woman alarm clock still beside her bed, she pulls her covers up over her head and checks the time. It’s 21:09. She closes her eyes and tries to feel for it, reaching for that sensation for which she now has the words to describe: the polarity…the final jigsaw piece, searching for that sense of perfection.

There: the needle. The… polarity . And somewhere underneath (or maybe within?) the drifting dial that reminded her of a protractor. She wills it to reverse.

Is it happening? She opens her eyes a crack.

21:10…so no.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes again and accesses that intuitive sense of perfection. There it is… there . Back inside or back underneath, she visualizes herself grabbing and pulling: molding time like clay…and then it happens. She feels it again, like when Dad took her with him. The air around her becomes thicker: her entire body fills with static, like stepping through a waterfall of cool electricity. Somehow, she knows when to stop.

As the feeling dissipates, she opens her eyes again, heart beating madly.

It’s 21:05.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88 (sorry for clogging up your notifs with my double post, taglist pals!)

Chapter 2 >>

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

[theroundbartable]

i completely understand what you're talking about with your dad vs your gf's dad. my mom is like your dad and i've lived my whole life on constant damage control to try to avoid getting screamed at and called an idiot. when i first started hanging out with my best friend like 6 years ago now, i was terrified to actually hang out with him in his home bc he lived with his mom and i was just...scared of all moms i guess bc of my own. but i met her and she was wonderful and i remember one of the first nights i was hanging out with them, i bumped into their coffee table and the whole thing just collapsed. i immediately started panicking, saying i would fix it or buy them a new one and holding back tears and she just kinda stopped me and looked at me for a second then gave me a big hug and was like "hey. it's just a table. it's old as shit anyways, it's okay." and we got to talking. turns out she had a mom like mine and she saw that same panic and fear in me and we both cried and hugged and from that day on she was my mom too. me and my friend taped the table leg back together and we've had to fix it a few times since but it's still standing all taped together and shit. and...yeah. it's wild to see how there are parents that are so different from our own.

Thank you for your kind words I hope you're doing better with all that's been going on.

But I also feel kind of guilty now. I feel constantly like being too harsh on my dad. Because I do understand him. Because he's trying very hard to keep our relationship together and he's reflecting and I genuinely believe that when he says he's at fault (even if he's loud about it), he's not trying to be manipulative, he actually means that, he's just frustrated.

I know that my dad was abused as a child by his own dad, even though he doesn't want to acknowledge that to himself. He took care of his dad til the man died and he's never complained while the man was alive nor talked bad about him (that I know of). My dad told me that he tried the entire time while I was young to be a better dad than his, one who doesn't punch us to a pulp in front of our own friends. But there were also times when he didn't know what to do, so he threatened me, beat my younger brother for staying up too late and my second older brother for refusing to eat vegetables and going to church. When he threatened me, I could tell that he felt guilty and let up almost immediately when I started crying. I think my oldest brother was except from all that because he lived in the attic at the time, far away enough to not be affected by it. He also wasn't around for the other stuff that happened outside of my parents' supervision but that's a different story. I just don't think he's as traumatised as the rest of us.

I also blame my mom sometimes because she is a social worker and trained for raising children, so she should have communicated better with him, because she knew what he was doing and let him. (My mom chose to marry my dad because he's her best friend who didn't get jealous when she hung out with other people and she felt safe with him, so it's not like she was afraid of him. They are actually quite wholesome together. They never fought either. When it comes to that, I actually see them as a rolemodel.)

Now that I'm older, I've confronted both of them. On my account, on my brothers account and I'm trying hard to explain to them what their behavior cost me in terms of trust issues and all that kind of stuff. And they are listening.

They are upset sometimes, they sometimes need time to understand it, they are hurt when I keep telling them my childhood was terrible (except for puberty, which is ironic but true because that's when everyone else also got depression and frustration and that made me feel understood.) But they do listen and they do try to respect my needs and they don't hate me or punish me for calling them out. They just thought I'd been happier. And it hurts them to know I wasn't.

That also means I establish boundaries. And when I do, I realize that I sound just as frustrated and resigned as my dad does when they are breached. I told him I don't want comments while I'm cooking because it makes me anxious to cook again, and then he comments about what I could put in the pot and I just freeze and get that defiant monotonous voice and then he leaves the room. I told my dad to call me by my chosen name and he couldn't understand it, so I tried explaining it but he thinks it's stupid. Still, he's trying to call me by that name. He's getting better at it too. Once, I came home while he was on the phone and he told the person on the other end 'Rai is home' and that was the first time in years that I offered him a hug.

What I mean to say is, my dad has a lot of flaws, but he's trying and I feel like I'm making his life so much harder when I complain so much about all the little things. He needs someone to listen to himself and I feel like he doesn't get that at home either.

I am at a point now where I should be letting up a bit and listen in turn, but it's so hard to fight automatic responses. And I understand that that's what my parents are trying to fight too.

It's complicated and messy. But I'm not afraid of my parents. I used to be, but not anymore. Some of my trust issues weren't caused by them, but they did affect our relationship and I'm trying to remedy that.

I just felt like I should also point out their good side because I feel like I'm only venting and showing their bad side here. They are also supportive in their own overly concerned way, and there is a reason why we still eat dinner together as a family.

I don't know what I hope for you. Whether it's that you get away from your problems or that you manage to solve them. I don't know enough about your situation to know what it is you need, but I hope whatever it is, that you have it now.

I also feel a bit guilty for making you say all that and then go and backtrack on what I said about my dad. I apologize for that. I do feel that it isn't quite fair to compare our situations. It's not fair to you, and I don't think it's fair to my dad, and maybe that's exactly what someone would say who's not actually ready to acknowledge they've been abused and maybe it's unfair to say this to someone who merely tried to show compassion and empathy to my situation. I don't know. It's confusing but I don't know.

Thank you again so much for your ask and I hope I didn't blow it all up with this irritating response. 🥲

[ozonecologne]

So, I love animation history, and I've been watching a lot of forgotten animated films for the last couple of weeks...

Fire and Ice (1983): the rotoscope thing is very interesting. I love Darkwolf's design and how hot Teegra is in those early scenes, but not much else. It looks too much like He-Man and the plot drags. 2/10

A Troll in Central Park (1994): charming at the heart of things. Especially with Dom DeLuise as Stanley -- what a comforting voice from my childhood. "Anything that's real starts with a dream." I do very much wish I could live in an underground garden paradise like a little socially awkward troll. 4/10

The Princess and the Goblin (1991): a little bizarre and not very compelling, but I love the bits with grandmother Irene. The way that the attic is animated to transform into an Edenic homestead is so beautiful. 4/10

Quest for Camelot (1998): have you ever wondered what Sinbad would have looked like if they had like half the budget and story? Eric Idle is going to hell. I want to fuck the griffin. 3/10

The Ringing Bell (1978): it's considered a classic for a reason! The idea that you create what will destroy you, and love it for doing so... the idea that when you force yourself to grow up you can never go back... There will come a time when you don't fit into your old life anymore, and you did that to yourself. You destroyed what part of you was innocent and belonged here, but you've also turned your back on the world that changed you. So where do you go? What are you now? What good is a strength that requires you face the world alone? 9/10

The Sea Prince and the Fire Child (or, The Legend of Sirius) (1981): a Romeo and Juliet retelling that kind of dragged, to be honest. I love the way that the fire is animated and the underwater backgrounds; they're whimsical but there's a real primordial quality to them that I like, because the ocean is weird! The sea god design is excellent and there are some sea creatures that are truly delightful, like the bunny fish and whatever Mabuse is supposed to be. Sirius is offputtingly noodly though, and he's 80% of the movie. Didn't love this one. 5/10

Faeries (1981): I cannot believe how they pronounce "Niamh" in this. The folklore designs are really cute though. 2/10

Freddie as FR07 (or, Freddie the Frog) (1992): terrible. I should make a video essay about this film because it is batshit insane in like the worst way. Completely not worth your time but I'd love to tell you about it sometime. 0/10

Felidae (1994): what is it about violent cat series that get at me!!!! A gory noir film made about cats solving a series of cat murders? Some of the imagery really was wild here; I loved the nightmare with Mendel and the puppet corpses. Trauma and eugenics and vengeance at the heart of this one too, the villain was without a doubt a monster but you still felt for them anyway. Decently scary and well-paced, a great tribute to the source material. Also, uncomfortable cat sex scene. 7/10

The Last Unicorn (1982): all of my female friends apparently decided to watch this one at the same time, and we all got weirdly emotional about it. To escape a fetishized genocide your body is violated and turned into something that will no longer interest the conquerers. You do not want this change because this is not your body. Every day is a torment knowing that you slip further and further away from what you know you are. Every day you forget more and more of what you used to be. Eventually, you wouldn't want to go back even if you could remember. Even if you are not happy, you are safe. You are alone, all alone with the ghosts that haunt your footsteps. 9/10

The Plague Dogs (1982): GOD ok. These poor things. These poor dogs haunted by pain that they don't deserve -- "I'm a good dog." "I don't think they're doing it because they think you're a bad dog." -- and are just trying to live a good life once they escape their captors. One of them even remembers life before the torture, when he had a comfortable home and love. But now he thinks it's his own fault he's lost it. They wander the wild, hopeless, unloved except by each other, and what can they do? The world is so much bigger than them. Every decision that shapes their lives is out of their hands, and has nothing to do with them. They're cursed by the narrative. They didn't ask for this. They don't even know what they're doing out here, or where they're meant to go; they have no purpose and no reason to keep fighting for their own survival except that it's the only thing they know how to do. You start this life treading water and you end it treading water. The water swallows you all the same. 10/10

Rock a Doodle (1991): Elvis chicken???????? 5/10

Happily Ever After (1989): truly one of the most bizarre films I've ever seen. A sequel to Snow White that quite literally no one asked for and no one saw coming. I am forever haunted by "dwarfelles." I do love the prince's grubby little creature design though, he's so cute! 1/10 for him only.

Once Upon a Forest (1993): I remember so vividly watching this one when I was home sick from school one time. I don't why it stuck with me; it's not very good. 3/10 because cute animal designs

Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland (1989): gorgeous. adorable. such beautiful paintings and incredible character design! there were so many people connected to this project and it's such a labor of love. it has such a ghibli style and feel about it even though that's not technically the studio that produced it! 8/10

I also tracked down some of The Animals of Farthing Wood (1993-1995), but I'd love to watch the whole thing sometime. The Redwall series is also on my list, I loved those books as a kid.

Definitely taking recommendations! Have you seen any weird animated films you need to inflict on others?

[constelationprize]

you can totally ignore this if you want but i'd love to hear more about #5

especially attic wife kevin and miserable gardener jean's relationship before and after jeremy gets there

And I'd love to tell you more about it!

I really really love gothic romance, and due to a personal original project of mine, I have read a ton of classic gothic lit this past year. This au has vary sligth influences from some of my favorite works, namely Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Rebecca (and it's possible original version A Sucessora but that's another can of worms), and a heavy influence of my favorite tropes in general. I also am of the personal opinion that Riko has the makings of a great gothic villain and honestly he deserves the stage to be properly dramatically evil.

The setting is vaguely victorian, but since I love myself and don't want to bother with all the logistics for a silly little au, it is a historical work in vibes only.

Kevin and Jean's relationship is a bit hard to describe without giving the plot away or just rehashing canon, but I'll try. In this AU, Kevin, Jean and Riko know each other since very, very young; Jean was born to servants of Evermore, Kayleigh died in childbirth, and Kengo sent Riko away when he was still being breastfed by a maid because he suspected him of being a bastard. Life in Evermore was not as harsh as it was on canon, but it was still not good. Tetsuji was a very bitter, cruel man, obsessed with legacy. For reasons related to inheritance and his own weird attempt at rewriting the past, he always planned to have Kevin marry Riko when they were of age. What he did not plan on was the two of his servants would rob him and run away, leaving their young son behind and him in charge of a third, commoner, useless ward. Jean was made to work at Evermore as a sort of indentured servant ever since, but when he was a child, the staff took pity on him and put him to smaller tasks, ones that would put him in more direct contact with the other children of the house. Kevin always saw Jean as a friend, but to Riko he was more like a toy, and Jean was often the butt of the jokes and the target of their more cruel games. As they grew up, Kevin and Jean stayed close even as their interactions started to be considered improper. Kevin always mistankely believed that Riko had grown out of his childish distaste of Jean, but that wasn't quite true; Riko had just started tormeting him behind his back, and Jean wouldn't confess for fear of who he'd choose. Tetsuji was just about as cruel and punishing to the boys as he was in canon, he just had less of a reason to keep a close eye on them and so was more of a distance presence in their lives. However, a important distinction is that in this AU, he truly did see Riko as his son and heir and spoiled him a lot in the name of conving Riko to follow his goals. Riko is less obssessed with the father who abandoned him than he is with what he was taught was his birthrightm which includes his perceived ownership of Kevin, who always saw him in more platonic terms even as he knew they were going to be engaged. Jean and Kevin start a secret romantic relantionship when they were around 17, when Jean was moved from doing general tasks to being Riko's personal valet. They are 19/20 when Tetsuji dies and instead of things being better when Riko becomes master of the house, they take a turn for the worse shortly after.

Jeremy arrives at Evermore when he is 25, and Kevin and Jean are 24. In the years since Riko inheriting the estate, the staff has diminished way beyond what was actually necessary to mantain the house in good shape. There remain only his new personal valet, a couple of cooks, the now-groundskeeper Jean, and the chief of staff (who is Thea! I'm unsure wether her function in the house is more like a housekeeper or a butler so she doesn't have an official job title yet. But she does give Jeremy many ominous warnings and clues. The rest of the staf are also gonna be Ravens, but who is who is tbd if any of Riko's goons are properly named in TSC, which I suspect they will). ANYWAY! When Jeremy arrives, Kevin and Jean have not spoken (or exchanged any kind of communication) in years. They only know of each other what Thea thinks is safe to share without risking Riko finding out, which is not a lot. They would like it to be different, but both have lost hope of ever getting out of Evermore by this point. Fear not, however! Jeremy, as expected of a gothic heroine, will not leave well enough alone and will do his best to reunite him and free them. And it might even work out!

As my parting words, I can tell this project has a title (acronymed BNTB), will probably have three to five chapters, and I have made this moodboard for it:

[mellowwillowy]

○ Attic ○

Your relationship with Childe was perfectly normal until he returned from the abyss

" Sister, where are you heading to?" The ginger followed you eagerly as you made your way toward the forest. You two were only children curious about how the world works, not knowing how you shouldn't had picked some wild flowers by the forest. Childe eyes spotted something that you didn't notice and that's all it took for him to fall into the abyss. It happened after you two returned with a basket of flowers, getting ready for dinner and a good rest for tommorow. Oh how you didn't realize Childe secretly let go of your hold and ran out away from the house and into the forest. Oh how you felt like someone was covering your whole senses. If only your senses were not covered, you would have realized that Childe had not returned to the bed for a long time.

He didn't return for a long time. Everyone searched for him only for him to show right in front of the doorstep. He changed in a way you couldn't describe. How can a child like you understand what had happened to him anyway? It's just how unhinged he started to act around you. A cold stare to the back of your head. A night cuddle where you could feel him hugging you tightly as if he's trying to crush your little ribs. A bedtime story that had been twisted by him into something terrifying. A touch where it felt way too restraining.

And a boy who had been beaten up after he confessed to you.

" Ajax! Why did you do that to him!" You yelled at Childe only to feel dumb when he only stared back at you with his empty eyes as usual. He tilted his head in confusion, as if he hadn't done anything wrong.

" Well I mean he's trying to take what's not him so it's only natural for me to put him back in his place right?" You looked at him in horror. What happened to him? What did he learn when he went missing? You shook your head and stormed out of the room. You were sick of him. This is not the first time it had happened. It happened to everyone who had gotten way too close to you as well. Your friends were all disturbed by his behaviour as well.

You wrote a letter to your butler, ordering her to pick you up and move somewhere else. An eagle appeared by the window and you tied the letter to its leg, throwing the eagle up toward the sky to escort the message to your butler.

Childe's mother saw the eagle left from your window and approached you shortly after it. You explained to her that you wished to depart now as you had learnt everything you need in here, thanking her for letting you stay under their roof. What you didn't realize was Childe listening to your whole conversation with his mother. Had you seen his face when he overheard you two, you might stumble in fear immediately.

The dinner was normal as usual with the exception that Childe seemed oddly cheerful around you despite the fight you earlier had with each other. For a while, you were glad you didn't mention Childe as the cause of your depart as well. Only for a while. The moment it's bedtime again, Childe insisted you to sleep in his bedroom, telling you that there's something he'd like to show you. You were hesitant at first but still went with him. Oh how you wished you didn't believe him.

Childe immediately wrapped your head with a bag while muffling your cries. You couldn't budge, your small body wouldn't be able to fight his body who had trained for a long time. You managed to trash under his hold, punching and kicking, anything to make him let go of you only for it to be futile. You started to lose Oxygen and fell limp. Childe took off the bag and wrapped a cloth on your mouth now. He wouldn't want you to die from lack of oxygen right? You didn't even have the strength and clear mind to fight him back anymore.

Childe secretely lead you to the attic. No one entered the attic until something like a lockdown happened. After all, it's only a place where they stored all the can foods and water bottles. Childe smiled at you, his eyes showed a glint of excitement. The expression that shot fear toward you.

"Why would you leave us after everything we had done for you? Are you not happy here? Are the lessons or cultures here not to your likings? Are you... not happy being around me?" The last line made you shiver. His eyes were no longer empty but rather, cold and sharp with the intent of ripping someone apart. And that might be you. Childe untied the cloth around your mouth, allowing you to speak.

" Ajax! You had gone way too far with your pranks! Let go of me now and I will pretend that nothing happened!" Childe hummed to himself in a mocking way. " It doesn't matter... hmmm... it doesn't matter. What's the point of me troubling myself bringing you up here only to bring you down again?" You swear you'd love to help him tilt his head down.

Childe left you all alone by the attic. Sure there's a small window, but no one would be able to see through it from the outside. The passage for you to go down had been locked by him as well. Screaming wouldn't do anything. No one would be able to hear you. You were doomed. Until your butler had come to pick you up, you'll be staying in the dusty attic until then.

Childe would always sneak in food for you to eat when no one's around. Everyone had been looking for you after you were locked up in the attic. Where have you gone to? In the forest? Would you be able to survive like Childe? The search went on and on along with the letters sent to your butler. Oh how ironic they didn't realize it was their own crazy son's doing.

Today too, a bag of cookies and a water bottle from the attic. You wished he could at least gave you something much more better. You didn't even bother indulging him in pointless conversations. All you want is for your butler to come and take you away immediately. Fortunately enough, Childe was not aware with what your butler is capable of. If he wanted to play dirty then you too, can play dirty with your escape.

Your butler came that day. After hearing the whole stories, your butler excused herself for a while, holding out a beautiful hairpin in the middle of the living room when no one was watching. Or so she wished. Childe was there but it'll be troublesome to shoo him away. Well, it's not like he could understand anything so she let him watched. The hairpin's jade glowed. You were here. Did everyone try to hide you away and fake the stories about you straying way too far into the forest? Or did something else happen? Whatever the reasons were, your butler didn't believe in anyone anymore and decided to do it the dirty way. As what you expected.

Your butler excused herself to search for you in the forest the day before a flood and snowstorm happened. They'll have to take out the food and water supplies by the attic now. Childe was not happy with this at all, especially with how sudden it happened without any warnings. If there were warnings about this then the family would buy all the food supplies they'll need instead of going up to the attic! What would happen to him now? His father had unlocked the lock and

There's no one at all. Not even a trace of empty waterbottles nor a cookies bits on the floor. The box that had been opened up was sealed back tightly. Not even a bottle is missing from the box. Ah? The window is also tightly shut... with a receipt in between. Childe immediately snatched the receipt, slipping it into his pocket. It had to be yours. Everyone went down after taking what they need only to be greeted by a letter on their door. How did someone manage to slip in a letter in the middle of a flood?

" I have found her. Thank you for looking after her. We'll be departing from the city now."

Everyone cried in happiness. So you were still alive! Wait... but where did she find you? And why didn't you two come to them? They could have celebrated your return. If she could sent this letter then she could also come to them right? Childe's mother sighed to herself and pulled his father away.

" Maybe we might really have insulted one of them. But at the very least they still wrote us a letter so that's all that matter now right?" Childe's father nodded in agreement. Again, Childe was able to listen to their inaudible whisperings. Childe opened the receipt and read it " You have strayed way too far, Ajax"

Childe laughed to himself. Yes he had gone way too far. He had strayed way too deep. There's no going back from this anymore. Of course he wished he didn't enter the forest that night. A wish of 'if only' can't do anything for him at all. But not for 'if'. If he could grow stronger and stronger, then he'd be able to lock you up properly right? If only his wits were quick enough to notice your butler's actions and meaning. If only he could prevent this all. If only he could fight the water's tide. Mmh. Damn flood. He chuckled to himself.

" Yeah...I've strayed way too far, sister"

And for once again, a glint of excitement appeared in Childe's hollow eyes.

" Let's meet each other again in the future"

[geesebumps-stuff]

Doppelganger Au

Doppelganger au

This au could take place in the Reunion au (where Slappy stays with Stine and Hannah). 

If one Slappy wasn't enough for Stine, now there are other Slappys to deal with. However, they have other things in mind.

Slappy is living with Stine and Hannah and is trying to be on his best behavior. And he tries very hard, but he can’t help pulling pranks. Stine knows but tells him not to go too overboard with them. Slappy promises that he will restraint himself (although it was a bit hard for him if he wants to stay out of the book, he’s going to have to)

One day Champ was asking Stine about Goosebumps merchandise, and everyone became curious about how much stuff there was. Stine then agrees to show them everything as he pulls many boxes from the attic and lets everyone look over them. Slappy was not surprised to see a lot of merch of himself since he is the mascot. (He does mentally apologize to Curly, though, since they were good friends before) Slappy, however, did not exactly like some things.

Champ pulled out some VHS, and they agreed to watch some of the TV series. As they were comparing the books to the TV series, Slappy was not a fan of the TV version of him with his looks and thought that he was off. Stine explained that there were some things he didn’t have control over, but it didn’t make Slappy feel better. (Along with the fact that he looks like a certain redhaired puppet)

Hannah moved on with the comics, and Slappy couldn't believe he could get smaller than he was, but he thought this one was a clown. Also, why did his hair change to black with red eyes? It made no sense to him.

Finally, Zach brought out the rest of the merch with bags and figures. As they were messing around with some of them, they then found a bag with something heavy. Stine pulls it out and reveals it to everyone. He calls it the “original” Slappy.

Slappy stared at the version for a while and realized why it was called original. This one has blue eyes, freckles, and chipped lips. This was how he was supposed to look, the book version, but instead, he has brown eyes, no freckles, and more chipped parts. 

Slappy had a small identity crisis but made sure no one noticed. However, Stine did. After noticing Slappy's discomfort, Stine decided to put all the stuff away. 

Slappy then went to his room and straight to the window. He has a habit of going on the roof when he wants to be alone but still being outside and messing around with his magic. As he was leaning on an antenna, he heard thunder. A few seconds later, he heard his papá from his window ask if he was ok and to come back inside before it rains. Slappy tells him that he’s fine and he’ll be out a bit longer. Stine sighs but goes back in. 

A minute later, as Slappy decided to get up, lighting struck the antenna and Slappy. Slappy then fell off the roof into the garden. Stine quickly reappears through the window, asking if he’s okay, and says next time, listen to him. But goes and grabs Slappy and puts him on his bed. Since he got accidentally electrocuted while using magic, he also almost caused a blackout.

The next day, strange things happen. Things being misplaced, destroyed, or disappeared. It's being blamed on Slappy as he argues that he didn't do it. Slappy then forces Champ to help him, and they agree that something weird is happening when Champ knows that Slappy isn't doing anything. 

They both thought there should be no more monsters, but now they weren't sure, as Champ thought it might be one of Slappy’s siblings. Slappy wasn't thrilled with the idea, but another puppet would be a possible choice. 

They looked everywhere for clues, but they got nothing until they looked outside and saw a footprint in the mud. They noticed it was small but a bit bigger than Slappy's and the fact that no child had been here. Now they know it might be a puppet. The last place they look is the attic. As they look around the attic, they both get knocked out. Slappy and Champ wake up as they are tied up, but as Slappy was going to teleport out, he was stopped by Slappy....Slappy....and Slappy?

The three different versions of Slappy were standing right in front of him. The black-haired one, the red-haired one, and the one Slappy was confused the most, the blue-eyed one. 

Slappy was trying to figure out how it was possible to have more Slappys come to life without the typewriter. He concluded that when he messed with his magic on the roof and got electrocuted, it accidentally turned the others to life. 

They started trying to recruit Slappy to join them and get rid of Stine and Hannah so they could roam free. But Slappy doesn't want to. He had just returned to being part of the family again and didn’t want to ruin this. He told the others to go away and that he wanted nothing to do with knockoffs. The other Slappys did not like being called knockoffs and decided to get rid of him too. 

Meanwhile, Zach, who found a box on the table, decided to put it back in the attic. As he climbed up the ladder, he heard the other voices. He slowly looked as he hid behind boxes and was surprised to see what was happening. He managed to ambush the other Slappys and rescued the two. They ran to Zach’s house and told everyone not to go into Stine’s house. 

(I’ll be honest. I had a hard time with naming each Slappy thing and how it would work, so plz bear with me. I was too excited about a Slappy war that I forgot that we gave them names like TV Slappy and Book Slappy, and then I had no idea how this was going to work. ) 

The other Slappys are called TV Slappy and Comic Slappy, but when it got to Blue eye Slappy, he argues that he's the original Slappy and calls himself Book Slappy. They (Stine, Hannah, Zach, Champ) first call him OG Slappy, but it was true that Slappy took many forms in the book, so there's no original look now, but Stine admitted that he wanted to do a movie with him later on and for their sake, they just called him Movie Slappy. 

They thought about how to get the other back to their original place. For Comic Slappy, they needed his comic book that was in the attic. Zach knows where the box is. They all decided to go back into the house, but as distractions as Zach could run to the attic to get the book. 

Meanwhile, Hannah was trying to find an extension cord for the TV to carry it as close as possible to TV Slappy. 

As for Stine, they first went back to the school to retrieve the typewriter and rewrote Night of the Living Dummy and tried to exactly describe Book Slappy to make sure Movie Slappy doesn't go in instead. But he has that manuscript ready in case he shows up. 

And, of course, things don’t go as planned. Zach and Champ went to the attic, only to find it wrecked. Boxes and other stuff were everywhere. They immediately started looking, but it became harder because Comic Slappy was there to get it first to destroy it. 

As Hannah was desperately looking for the missing extension cord. Stine had to physically fight TV Slappy as he hung on to him. 

As Movie Slappy tried to help his papa, no one saw him get abducted by Book Slappy. 

Comic Slappy found the book first, but Champ tackled him before he could rip it. Zach took the book from Comic Slappy. As Champ held him down, Zach opened the comic book. Comic Slappy tries to hang on to Champ but manages to knock him off as Comic Slappy goes back into the comic book. 

TV Slappy was much stronger than he appeared as he threw Stine out the window. As Zach and Champ tried to help him, TV Slappy appeared out of nowhere, causing them to trip down the stairs. He then goes back to Stine outside. He started approaching Stine, still on the ground, trying to recover.  Stine struggled to get up as TV Slappy was too close to him. TV Slappy laughed as he told Stine that this was his last night but his beginning to reign terror. TV Slappy pounced but- SLAM!

A TV fell on his head. As the TV crashed to the ground,  it fell on its side, but there was no trace of the dummy. Just a broken screen. Stine, along with Zach and Champ, looked up to see Hannah at the second-floor window. She happily exclaimed that she found the extension cord but was sorry about her dad’s TV being a sacrifice. 

Stine signed but was relieved. Champ cheerfully exclaimed that they had one more to go. 

They stopped for a second. They haven’t seen Book Slappy at all. And Movie Slappy was also missing. 

Someone was about to ask about their whereabouts. They heard yelling on the roof.  

Movie and Book Slappy are fighting on the roof, but Book is winning. Movie Slappy falls on the floor and is pinned down by Book’s foot on his chest. 

Zach starts throwing rocks at Book whil Stine and Champ run inside to get to the roof. 

He managed to hit Book’s head. As he turns, Slappy manages to knock him down and get the upper hand. 

Champ is climbing through the window with the book in hand. He throws the book to Movie Slappy. He catches it and prays he doesn’t get stuck inside. 

The book takes Book Slappy in and now the Slappy War s over. 

Slappy is tired and slumps down on the roof. Champ goes to him and carries him to the window. 

He gives him to Stine who puts him in bed and tells him that it’s finally over. And that he should not feel bad and that he would always be the better Slappy than the rest. 

Slappy is relieved and tries to go to sleep. 

Stine and the others are trying to clen up the mess from the fight. Stine laments for his broken TV and Hannah laughs as she says that he can finally have a brand new TV that’s not +15 yeards old. 

Stine complains about liking old school stuff. 

*******

Slappy slowly wakes up. His vision is blurry and his room is dark. But he felt something else on the bed. 

He rubbed his eyes and snapped his hand for the lights to turn on.

Slappy gasped. 

In front of him, on hid bed, was an exact copy of him. There were no other marking to tell them apart.

I must be dreaming, he thought. After the war with different versions of himself, he must be having a nightmare. 

“Oh come on. There’s only enough of me that I can handle in one night. I don’t need to be dreaming about myself now,” he said. 

The other Slappy chucked. “This is no dream.”

“Huh?”

He looked around the room. He signed. “So this is here he decided to stay? Far away from Wardenclyffe, huh.”

Slappy’s eyes widen. 

Wardenclyffe is where his papa used to live. It was where he started writing his strories. He was there for most of the stories that he wrote but he knew that there were older works that not even he knew about. But he knows about this one.

“Would you look at that? Draft boy finally got out of his unfinished book,” he sneered. 

 “Unfinished!”  he whispered angrily. “I was left forgotten because of you!”

“Me? Haha. Look buddy, Papa already made me and what’s the point of finishing another me when I’m right here? Beside, you were an early draft where his writing wasn’t even that good. So of course you were forgotten.”

“I was made first! But then HE decided to use me as a blueprint to make you!”

“Papa write whatever he feels like writing. I had nothing to do with you. Now, how about you get out before I get Papa to actually finsh your book where you can stay forever.” 

The other Slappy chuckled. 

This makes Slappy uneasy. He could try to turn off the light to teleport to go start for his papa. But he has no idea what powers this Slappy is supposed to have. He remembered Stine talking to him about this Slappy years ago, but he doesn’t remeber what set them apart.

“I’ve been alone for years. You, however get have a monster family along with an actual family. Something that I always wanted.”

Slappy now remembers what this was about. His papa had parent issues in the past. He took his frustration and wrote about it to feel better. Slappy might have dad issues but this guy has different ones. 

“I won’t let you hurt my family!” Slappy growled as he stood up.

“Hahaha! I don’t want your family. But maybe the one next door might have room for me.”

“Wha-Leave the Cooper family out of this! Get a mama from somewhere else! Go far away if you have too!”

“No. Papa must pay. But,” he reaches his back and pulls out a book. “You first.”

“No!”

The other Slappy opened the book. Slappy tried to yell but it was too late. 

As the other Slappy closes the book, the door opened.

“What’s going on! I heard noises! Are you okay Slappy!”  yelled Stine with Hannah behind him with a bat.

The other Slappy hid the book behind his back. He stared at his papa. It’s been years since he’d seen him. And this mad him angry. But he can’t show this yet.

“I had a nightmare.”

Stine and Hannah sighned in relief. 

“Okay then. I’m going back to bed now. Night,”  said Hannah as she leaves. 

“Night.”

Stine walks in the room. The other Slappy gets nervous but stays put. His first plan was to get rid of the other Slappy. His second plan is to pretend to be him. No matter how much he would hate being the other him. 

Stine picks him up and places him in bed.

“Get some rest Slappy.”

Stine turns off the lights and walks back towards the door.

“Goodnight Slappy.”

“...Goodnight papa.”

The door closes. Slappy smiles. He hids the book under his pillow for now. He’s going to need a better spot later. Somewhere where they won’t be able to find him. However, for now he needs him just in case. 

He watched the others fakers try to take him out. He would have joined but he had other plans.  He waited until they were gone and for other Slappy to be vulnerable. Now he needs to gain that family’s trust.

This was a lot easier than he thought. 

[its-moopoint]

Weekend debate between sane and delusional OL fans. 🤪

Anonymous asked:

But what if they’re not hiding 5 children? That’s a lot to accuse them of based solely on how a woman looks in some photographs.

odessa-2

Oh but they are.

gabysachs

Based on the evidence that we've been seen for years it is certain that there is more than a child, at least 3 or 4 but not 5.

caligirl22

Where exactly are they hiding these five children? In a closet? A dungeon? Do the kids go to school? Has everyone who’s ever seen them been paid off? Have they never left wherever they’re being kept, like some sort of Scottish Flowers in the Attic type situation? LMAO. There’s zero evidence these children exist except in the fevered brains of people who can’t accept that two actors they like aren’t together in real life. It’s mentally deranged at this point. You should all seek help.

shoutlandish

@caligirl22 I won’t call you names and curse you with insults like you just did, but I will say that if you can’t see from the abundant visual evidence that C has been pregnant multiple times since 2016, then you don’t want to see it.

caligirl22

So I ask you again. If they have all these children, where are they? You all constantly claim they have multiple kids and then never expand on that. Where do these kids live? Why has no one ever seen them? Are they all homeschooled to keep their existence a secret? Do none of them have any friends and friends parents who know they exist and therefore must all be paid off not to reveal it? I’m not the one not seeing the truth. But please, answer my questions. Where are they all?

shoutlandish

@caligirl22 We never see Tony bopping around Glasgow, either. We don’t see photos of him or hear gossip about him, with or without Cait. So I guess that means he doesn’t live there with Cait. I don’t know where Cait & Sam are. I can only imagine that they are living a normal and quiet life in Scotland somewhere where nobody cares what we think about them.

caligirl22

There are lots of pictures of Tony. He’s also not a celebrity, so people aren’t trying to catch him on camera. Your claim is that five children exist and yet somehow have never been seen with their parents. Why won’t you answer my questions? Where do they live? The eldest ones you claim exist are definitely school age. Do they not go?

shoutlandish

@caligirl22 I have not seen photos of the children in Scotland, nor in LA. I doubt there are any paparazzi who would bother seeking any. I don’t think such photos would sell. In Scotland they’re not celebrities; they’re just a regular family, and they live like natives, I suppose. It’s actually a great place to live away from the spotlight. Anyway, I don’t need to see them to know that they exist because I have recognized Caitriona’s pregnancies.

caligirl22

So your argument is that Sam Heughan, a man who’s instantly spotted by the fandom everywhere he goes, is out and about with his five children all the time in Scotland but no one just ever takes a picture? Lol. Okay. There’s something wrong with you all for insisting a women gave birth five times when you have zero evidence of it, except for the fact that you long for it to be true. It’s sad actually. Your need to believe it broke your brains.

shoutlandish

@caligirl22 I think it’s sadder that you believe outrageous lies without ever questioning any of it. What you take as gospel my brain perceives as utter nonsense. However, I am not hostile toward you over your lack of observation and critical thinking skills. I just shake my head, let it go, and move on. Try it.

poughkeepsielass

@shoutlandish You’re a better woman than I am to bother arguing with her. The B* is now blocked.

caligirl22

I have. Lots of times. After I discovered the show fairly recently, I was shocked to discover there are so many nuts out there who believe - with zero evidence - that they’re married with five secret kids who have somehow magically never been spotted anywhere. But Sam and Cait seem like good people and I just got sick of you all being so awful to them & especially for Cait, lying that she’s not married and her child is Sam’s. That’s awful, hateful behavior to display towards anyone.

shoutlandish

@caligirl22 Ah, well, you are new. That explains a lot. Stick around. Follow lots of blogs here (not the haters, though; they’re too upsetting); eventually you will see the evidence that has accumulated over the years. There’s a ton. I’ve seen it all.

caligirl22

I wouldn’t consider two years new. I just haven’t been living my life around the fact that two actors have secretly hidden 5 human beings for nine plus years like you all. No, there’s no evidence. There’s things you all claim is evidence because you want to believe it so badly. But actual evidence? There’s zero. I just find it amazing that you’re all so awful that you don’t even feel a tiny bit bad about crapping on their real partners and kids like this, but it shows your true colors.

emel98

A man with father issues who plays a dedicated father for almost a decade is accused of hiding his paternity for the sake of fame and female following and tptb decision. Hmmmmm. Likely no.

shoutlandish

@emel98 If there is a birth certificate it would be all over Tumblr. Quit deliberately misleading people. If you can’t support your beliefs with concrete evidence or even some logic, then go away.

onsotel67

@caligirl22 I’ve been around since June 2022. Never in my life have I seen such a pile of circumstantial shit. I support your questions completely. There is no evidence to support these horrific rumours and attacks on 2 exceptional actors and people, and their families and friends. I decided to come here to find out what the fuss was about. Oh my word! Did I find a labyrinth of twisted minds, photoshopped images, blurry and nondescript evidence.

caligirl22

@onsotel67 Thank you! It’s honestly the craziest thing I’ve ever seen! Besides the fact that no one can hide five kids, Starz would be literally beside themselves with joy if they were a real life couple. The marketing opportunities and eyes that would bring their show! They would never forbid them to be together, even if they could, which they cannot. People claiming that are ridiculous. The ones lying about them aren’t fans, they’re just nuts who need something else in their lives.

caligirl22

@shoutlandish So you literally only follow people who confirm the beliefs you already hold and tell you what you want to hear and that’s your “evidence?” Come on now. If there was actual evidence, you’d be able to show something concrete. You can’t. Not one single actual thing proving they’re together and have kids. Because it’s all made up nonsense by people who can’t accept that a TV couple isn’t together in real life. People who attack their real life partners. It’s gross.

bellajustbella

I have seen a photo was on Instagram very briefly. Around the time of the infamous wedding. It was of Cait supervising a little girl on a trampoline. It was posted by the owner of an air’b’n’b in Spain welcoming Cait, Sam and their family to her property. No I didn’t take a screenshot. I was new to IG at the time and was in total shock at what I saw. It was one of a few separate photos. They were there one minute, gone the next. But I KNOW what I saw.

caligirl22

@shoutlandish So you’re arguing both that if there was a birth certificate it would be all over the internet while ALSO arguing that the birth certificates for five children Sam and Cait had together have never been found. Do you hear how little that makes sense? You’re the one making stuff up & misleading people. Take your own advice. If you can’t show concrete evidence or logic, stop lying about things.

wildfernflower

@caligirl22 Putting aside children, in fact there are at least a couple of reasons why STARZ (and SC themselves, too) would want at all costs to keep their RL relationship secret.

caligirl22

@wildfernflower Okay, leaving aside the fake kids, even though most of the people here insist they have multiple ones, Starz would absolutely not want to keep it a secret. It would literally be their best way to promo the show ever. They would have zero problem with it. They also have no control over it. Actors aren’t indentured servants. If they wanted to date, they could & Starz would take advantage of that & milk it for all it’s worth. It’s PR 101.

snowy-winter-11

@caligirl22 I understand what you think but i also came here because they were so many receipts live ones that i saw myself i had to see them. But I don't think there’s 5 no woman has 5 kids these days but i think 3 they seems to say 3 a lot… either SC are playing fan intensely or they can’t help themselves slipping stuff. S is the worst. Anyway think about it if ppl knew they were together the credibility they wouldn’t have for OL. If not together they had or have something to much interest between those 2!

langy60

@caligirl22 You say we are "mentally deranged" but your rant points the finger directly at you ! Just because we shippers don't think as you do DOES NOT make us deranged!! There is an abundance of evidence from 2014 that says Cait and Sam are together and that there are children. I don't believe there are 5 but definitely more than two Snooping around on here will do your beliefs no good it will only lead to disappointment. All snoopers like you are BLOCKED 🚫

Oh poor poor newbie trying to reason with the nutcake part of the fandom.

This new fan calls out all shipper lies, they don't reply to any of her questions and points out their hypocrisy lying about T being pictured with C.

Also Laughing my Ass off at the one trying to pass off the Instagram bullshit from Mallorca's troll as true. Just because there's a brunette in a picture it doesn't make her Cait. These folks don't get tired of lying.

[naturalbornlosers]

actually. i dont normally get this personal so i might delete this later but geez i need somewhere to put this or i'll go insane.

we lost my grandfather a year ago and Christmas has sucked ass this year. i'm overstimulated and exhausted. my family doesn't even try to connect with me. it's like i dont fucking exist anymore to them except as a problem-solver ("can you help me find xyz?") or a piece of furniture or someone to dictate later plans to or a fucking memory pad ("don't let me forget,") or a problem. we try to eat dinner together and i dont open my mouth a moment in the conversation bc there's no opening for me, there's no topic i can contribute to, no one even tries to include me, and the only time i'm spoken to is to tell me plans we're doing later. i wanna make something with my family and it gets brushed off. i wanna do something, it gets brushed off. i bought us a game to play and we're taking it down when we take my grandmother back home bc no one could be assed to remember to play it even though i made sure it appealed to all of our interests.

my mom made a joke about "oh we're just giving you money because we have no idea what you want haha!" and while yeah, i am grateful for the money, it fucking SUCKS that every time ive talked to her about my interests - about our shared interests and hobbies, too - it sounds like it's gone in one ear and right out the other!! i've shown her in person things i would like to eventually get in the future, all year. and it's like… none of it matters. no one tries. no one tries when it's me, but everyone else gets thoughtful things and i'm even still planning to get more things for my mom and my grandmother. no one tries to engage with my interests. my interests actually get made fun of here and there or outright dismissed ("i'm sure [person] doesn't wanna hear about xyz" is said often when im infodumping) and everything i like is trivial. everything i like is fodder to be mocked by my moms husband and just goes in one ear out the other with my mom and my grandmother has no idea what to do with my interests.

and, fuck, now my family doesnt believe i have endometriosis or pcos bc my ultrasound came back fine even though i explained to them repeatedly that it may not show up on an ultrasound. they dont want me to get a second opinion. they dont think its worth it, trying to find out why im in so much pain i miss class/life events and why im so sick and fatigued every month i cant leave the house sometimes. i just sit around like a decoration. i get teased for being on my phone. i get teased for not eating the same things everyone else does. and to top it all off, my moms husband vaguely threatened me tonight in front of everyone and no one did a fucking thing. no one even acknowledged that he just flat out went "dont do xyz, if you do xyz, there's gonna be a problem" in a very clear manner of 'you are going to be in deep shit'. which is fucking tiresome bc he tried to kick me out three separate times in 2020. once bc my bathroom wasn't tidy enough (just a bit cluttered, but i dont have much counter space, so naturally it was cluttered), once bc he wanted to turn my bedroom into storage and have me move into the attic spare room, and once bc "this is my castle and i am the king and if you don't like it you can leave". this was during a time i had no friends irl, no bank account, couldn't drive, no job, nobody around i could go to… he knew full well he could just toss me out and no one would say a fucking word.

i'm learning how to drive. and then i'll get a job. and then i'll move out. and then i'll put this shit behind me. but i fucking hate being in a room full of my family and feeling like none of them know me. that i'm entirely alone. that i don't fucking exist and everything i am is trivial and doesn't matter. if i make plans, there's a high chance they wont happen or will get changed last minute and then i get mocked for being upset about it like i'm a child who doesn't get how the world works. i'm twenty four. i'm young for sure, but fucking hell, i'm not six.

i just don't wanna be here. i'm gonna keep on keepin' on. but i want things to change for the better and i know they wont until i move out. i just don't believe i will actually, ever, leave this house. ughh. i'll survive but holy shit i'm gonna be screaming the entire time.

[totallynotreadingatwork]

Out of the Attic, by V.C. Andrews

...except it's actually ghost-written by Andrew Neiderman because the real Virginia Andrews has been dead since 1986 and this book came out in 2020. It is also just... not very good.

Spoilers ahead.

TW: rape, abusive relationship, controlling behaviour

Out of the Attic is a tie in to the popular Dollanganger series by Virginia Andrews, the first book of which was Flowers in the Attic, which was published in 1979. Andrews wrote 5 books for the series before she passed away, and then in 2014 the series was revived for another 6 books by ghost writers hired by the family. Out of the Attic is the 10th book written for the series, but chronologically takes place before Flowers in the Attic and focuses on Corrine Foxworth, Malcolm Foxworth's mother, as she marries into the family and has her son.

I think Neiderman was aiming to make Corrine a more likeable and relatable character by having her be married into the family against her will and feel isolated and alone as she is whisked away from the family and friends she's known all her life and taken to live in the grand and unwelcoming Foxworth hall. She is plied with alcohol and raped by Garland Foxworth, which results in a pregnancy that means she has to marry Garland or face ruin.

She obviously marries him, and things are going well at first but soon end up with her all alone in this huge house, sections of which she is too scared to go into, and with an infant son that she feels no maternal connection to. Corrine spends five years rattling around doing pretty much nothing but shopping, keeping up with the latest fashions, and making herself look beautiful every day whilst a nanny raises her son, whom she by now actively dislikes, until one day she meets a woman whilst out shopping who says she should join their ladies club.

Corrine then finds out Garland is cheating on her, goes to a Halloween party dressed as a nun, takes her son and the nanny to the beach, hires an artist she met at the Halloween party to paint her portrait, has an affair with said artist (his name is Beau and he seems very nice), gets raped by Garland again, then flees to France with Beau where she discovers that she's pregnant with Garland's child. The end, thank god.

Now, on reading that brief summary you may be thinking 'yeah, that doesn't sound like a very fun life, I feel like I could sympathise with this character', but the way that Corrine is written and portrayed really just makes you dislike her. You sympathise with her in some aspects, where in others you're just sort of left thinking she's actually a horrible person.

Take her relationship with her son, for instance; Corrine believes that Malcolm is evil and conniving and and manipulative. He misbehaves, he tries to wriggle his way out of punishments, and he asks questions and keeps pestering her for things.

Malcolm is also 4 years old.

Now, I'm not particularly fond of young children myself, so I understand her not wanting to be around him 24/7 or finding him a bit overwhelming at times. However, I don't think calling this behaviour 'evil' is quite correct. All 4-year-olds ask a ton of questions, all 4-year-olds will try to escape punishment for things they've done, all 4-year-olds will pester you to go places and do things, especially if you've promised them such things earlier in the week (Corrine is on several occasions annoyed by Malcolm asking to go to the seaside... after she herself suggested they go to the seaside but didn't tell him when that would happen).

I know that Malcolm Foxworth grows up to be the grandfather of the Dollanganger children who are then locked in the attic (and Neiderman even tries to foreshadow that by having him very briefly lock Corrine in the attic in this book) so Neiderman is obviously trying to plant the seeds of a very disturbed person, but it's like the man has never met a toddler before. We're supposed to be on Corrine's side, to look at Malcolm and say 'ah, so he's always been evil and bad', but Malcolm just isn't ; he's just a child who's a little bit spoilt. The most 'evil' things he does are destroy a wedding photograph album belonging to his mother (which certainly isn't good behaviour but children have definitely done worse), and lock her in the attic... when she's chasing him round the house threatening to beat him with a belt for destroying the album. This woman is not likeable.

Obviously it goes without saying that a book character doesn't have to be morally good in order to be a compelling and interesting point of view character, but the framing of the book so often seems like it's trying to portray her in a positive light that it just... I don't know. It doesn't feel very good to read. We don't linger on Corrine's trauma or her feelings of loneliness or isolation long enough to develop as much sympathy for her as I think the author would like. There's quite a bit of telling and not much showing.

Also, Neiderman is very 'men writing women' in places. There's a lot of hot flushes rushing to breasts of course, but also there's... this???

Image description: Quote from the book that reads as follows;

"What are they?"

"Open and see."

Children and women are so distracted, so mesmerised, by surprise presents that they'd ignore being in a burning building, I thought. I was disappointed at how excited I was and how quickly my pride and indignation had weakened, my fury and determination along with them. I had stepped in here ready to demand answers to questions I knew would stir his rage. I was more than willing to do that than ever I had bee, but right now all I could think was What's in those boxes?

Image description end.

So yeah, apparently women will disregard their own safety for shiny presents. This, by the way, is when she's going to confront him about cheating on her.

Overall, a thoroughly mediocre reading experience that I do not recommend to anyone. If you liked Flowers in the Attic then this will just annoy you and taint your memories of it, and if you've never read the Dollanganger books then there's no point in picking it up because nothing substantial happens in it!

[mothysmenagerie]

A few weeks ago I made the trek to visit one of my dear friends Kate's house so we could crawl up in her attic and see what kind of shit was up there. She believed a Kenner Blythe may be amongst the treasure, which prompted her to invite me. Sadly, no Kenner but we didn't leave empty handed.

And one of the treasures was a Penny Playpal Doll.

I didn't even know these dolls existed until Kate pulled her from one of the piles in the attic. Despite that, as soon as she dragged her huge body out for me to see and asked "do you want her?" How could I say no? She is so charming and reminds me so much of the my size barbie I loved in my own youth, I def wanted to take her home.

But she was SO GROSS. Nearly everything in the attic was covered in a layer of dirt, cob webs, dust, mouse poop, bug corpses, you name it. She was so grimy I had to throw her in the trunk to take her home. This was the first picture I took of her, which is kind of hilarious because it looks like something from a straight up horror movie.

She was so gross that I even had to make a special trip to target to buy her a special containment case to house her until I was ready to clean her lul

Here she is.... Bidding her time...

And the containment breach. >:3

Washing her was an experience. It truly did feel like I was cleaning a small child. 🙃 I filled the plastic tub full of water and dish soap and got to work.

Once I had given her body the first scrub I took her to the kitchen to wash her hair. Her hair is pretty gross, very brittle and balding in spots, but it's not horrible. Kate told me when she was little she messed with her hair a few times so I'm not sure if it was ever cut. If it was, baby Kate did a great job keeping it even loooool.

I used baby shampoo for her head. He hair is still pretty stiff, but there are no more bug carcasses so I'm counting it as a win. 😇

She was already looking much better at this point, but this is also where I messed up. 😞 I had been avoiding submerging her because I knew she was hollow and didn't want to fill her water. However her legs were still pretty dirty and I wanted to soak them and her grimy hands a bit longer to help get some of the more stubborn dirt off. In doing so I left her to soak, thinking dipping just her bottom half would not cause a problem. Boy was I wrong!

She was decidedly heavier when I picked her up from her soak, her whole bottom half full of water. I've drained most of it at this point (thank you mommy blogs for giving tips on getting water out of toys) and I think she will be ok. I hope so at least because I would be heart broken if she got moldy. 😭

She did sure look cute sitting in the tub though looooool.

Anyway, I still have some work to do on her. I'm working now on removing the staining on her face and will continue trying to dry her out. All in all, errors and all, I am having a lot of fun cleaning her up. I love you miss Penelope, and I'm glad you are home with me! 💖😘😻

I also did some work on a Barbie and Midge doll Kate asked me to clean up, more on them in the future. ✨

Until then, I leave you with the adorable commercial for Patti and her buddy Penny. 👯