#adam cousins

[peterprick]

RAiNBOW GLOW

[padmesbox]

Adam Page: international playboy

[imaginepans]

creature (he’s plotting something)

this show got my drawing motivation back so i might make more art of hazbin hotel

[magicalbunbun]

now i wonder how would Vaggie and Charlie react to Cabel

i imagine that Charlie would cry her eyes out because of Cabel's cuteness and Vaggie would try to calm her girlfriend down

Charlie loves to annoy cabel but somehow they care for each other ..

[frances-baby-houseman]

After 30 minutes of adam's entire family standing at the door doing a jewish goodbye, I did an irish goodbye and just walked through the door and walked home by myself and didn't actually say goodbye to anyone.

no one not one person ate a single bite of my cake and also I have an entire pan of brisket left bc my mother in law made a fucking TURKEY? and I am very tired.

Anyway it was mostly a lovely new year but now I'm grumpy bc these people don't like cake.

[shuteyeshuttle]

Ah yes, the beautiful cousin relationship these two have… 🔱

[realbeefman]

oldest brother chase middle child thirteen spoiled brat (affectionate) youngest kid kutner. the 3 spawn of dr. workplace harassment.

[lumiereandcogsworth]

giggling at my own fics at 1am, this is what life is about

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Grandmother!” Adam shouts dramatically, practically kicking her door open and striding inside. Abuela comes hobbling out of the kitchen, cane in hand and eyebrow raised.

“Who?” she says, hands on her hips.

Adam grins, walking over to kiss her loudly on the cheek. “Hi, Abuela.”

She clasps his hand in hers and squeezes it. “Better, mijo.” She heads towards to chairs on the porch, tugging him along. He keeps a hand on the curve of her elbow to help her down the stairs, guiding her to her rocking chair and curling up next to her.

The late summer air is sweet, a welcome relief from the staleness that permeates every room in the Garrison. He’s not sure if the sunlight feels soft because it really is or because he’s relieved it’s Friday, but he revels in it anyway. It gently warms his skin, and he closes his eyes and basks in it, aware of Abuela doing the same beside him, smile slight and wrinkles deep and beautiful.

“I was thinking of you.”

Adam opens his eyes, glancing over. The sun glints off Abuela’s glasses, half blinding him, but her grip on his hand tightens, callouses scraping familiarly across his knuckles.

“Yeah?”

She hums. “Always. Lots to worry about with you.”

Adam scowls. “There is not.”

She looks at him with an expression that is simultaneously deeply fond and deeply judgmental. “How many times have I picked you up from a principal’s office, Pomposo? Ten? Twenty?”

“Eleven,” Adam says huffily. Past him is a bozo. He should have simply suffered in silence. Besides — he was justified! Having a smart mouth is something teachers and bosses make up as tools of oppression. Calling his tenth grade English teacher a self-important fool was not having a smart mouth, it was a perfectly understandable response to a bullshit grade.

But then Abuela laughs and he forgets to be annoyed. She has a raspy laugh, left over from years of cigarettes before anyone knew they were harmful, and it has always fascinated him; distinctive and joyful.

“You take exactly after your mother.” she says, and Adam doesn’t doubt it. “Her sister, too.”

“And you?” Adam asks cheekily.

She flicks him in the forehead. “Down to the core of you,” she agrees.

They watch for a while as cars pass by on the quiet street, waving at bikers and cooing at dogs walking by with their owners. One particular dog is being pulled along by a young girl half his size, and her determination makes them both giggle.

“Have you talked to your cousin, lately?” Abuela asks as the little girl disappears down the corner.

Adam purses his lips thoughtfully. “No, was he asking for me?”

“Oh, no,” Abuela dismisses, still half-focused on the road. “He just loves you.”

Adam freezes.

Abuela looks over at him in concern. “Everything okay, tesoro?”

Adam thinks he is three seconds away from bursting into tears.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” he tries to assure. His voice wobbles. Abuela squints at him, half concerned and half suspicious, but eventually shrugs, letting it go.

As soon as she’s leaned back into her chair, Adam slide show phone out of his pocket with his free hand, tapping open a contact.

to: the boy

CHILD

Lance answers immediately

from: the boy

Yes?

Adam grins at the proper punctuation, the capital letter. Lance has just barely had a phone for a couple months — he doesn’t know how to text like a normal person yet. He once sent Adam a text with a semicolon. He laughed until he cried.

to: the boy

are u busy tomorrow

from: the boy

I don’t think so what’s up

Adam doesn’t actually know what’s up. He doesn’t have a plan. He just knows that he has to see his cousin immediately, basically. Squeeze his cheeks, perhaps. He’ll hate it by virtue of being thirteen, but something tells him he’ll tolerate it.

from: the boy

I have to do my homework now so my phone is forbidden

from: the boy

So text my mom instead of me

Adam snorts, dutifully pulling up Tía Marcela’s contact. She’ll be pleased. She’s very gung-ho about Lance doing things that aren’t video games all day.

to: tía marcela

hey tía!! is lance busy tonight?

The message is quickly marked as read. Adam sets it aside for a moment, knowing she’s probably rushing around to find her reading glasses that are almost one hundred percent resting on her head. After a few minutes, a message dings in.

from: tía marcela

Hey!

from: tía marcela

I don’t think so. He has some homework, but it’s math, so he’ll be done soon. Why?

Adam snickers. Nerd. He probably got excited about the homework. Last Christmas Adam got him a math workbook as a joke and he was unironically obsessed with it. It was adorable.

to: tía marcela

i’m gonna come pick him up when he’s done maybe

to: tía marcela

we’ll get ice cream and go for a drive

The typing bubbles flit across his screen for a few seconds. Adam watches them, humming to himself. They could go to that old place off highway seven, maybe. It has that pineapple flavour Lance likes like the little weirdo he is.

from: tía marcela

O.m.g. he would love that!

from: tía marcela

He’ll be done in an hour.

Adam sends one last confirmation text, then tucks his phone away, sighing happily.

“Making plans?” Abuela asks.

“Yep! Gonna take Lance for ice cream.”

Abuela beams. “Oh, he’ll love that! He was talking to his friend on the phone last time he was here, bragging about how his cool older cousin thinks he’s funny. He thinks you hung the moon and stars.”

Adam has absolutely zero control of what his eyes do in response to that.

“Why would you tell me that,” he asks, sniffling, blinking rapidly to try and cool the re-emerging tears.

Abuela smiles, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “I think you needed to hear it, amor.”

———

Adam turns down the music as he turns into the neighbourhood, conscious of the slowly setting sun. He rolls to a stop in front of the oldest brick house at the end of the block, door paint peeling in bright blue flecks, bicycles and skip ropes strewn about the lawn.

He lays on his horn. Immediately, like he was waiting, Lance’s face peeks out of the open window, grinning wide enough to show off his braces.

“Get in, loser, we’re going shopping!” he shouts.

Lance doesn’t waste a second, throwing open the door with enough force that it bangs into the wall.

“Bye, Mamá!” he shouts. He pauses. “Sorry about the door!”

Adam doesn’t hear Marcela’s response, but seconds later Lance is sprinting towards the car, backpack swinging madly, throwing open the door and practically diving into the seat. He puts his seatbelt on so enthusiastically he brains himself with it.

“Hey, Metalmouth,” Adam teases, not even attempting to hide his laughter.

Lance flaps his hands. “Hey!” he shouts, way too loud for a small car. Adam can’t bring himself to care, grin stretching across his face so widely it aches. He digs his phone out of his pocket and tosses it at his cousin, waving at Marcela who’s watching from the door and putting the car in gear.

“You may queue three songs,” he says, craning his neck to check his blind spots. “If you choose terrible songs I am revoking the privilege for eternity.”

Lance pouts, knowing exactly what incident Adam is referring to. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Adam cuts him a dry glance. “It was gorilla noises set to loud drums.”

“It was alternative!”

“You’re alternative, brat.”

Lance taps determinately at the phone. His dark eyes are narrowed in the same concentration Adam has seen him apply as he decides whether or not he can get away with deliberately infuriating his older siblings. Adam pokes him in the cheek because he can, and because he is simply so fun to bother. Lance bats him away.

“I picked songs from the movie you said I should watch,” Lance says eventually, turning off the phone and putting it on the dashboard. “I watched it yesterday. I liked it!”

“That’s because you’re as much of a dweeb as Gabriella,” Adam says sagely as Bop to the Top starts blaring. Lance sticks his tongue out at him.

They get to the ice cream shop pretty quickly, Adam poking and prodding at Lance every three seconds because he can and because gentle bullying is the best way to show affection. Lance doesn’t seem to mind, and amuses himself by kicking Adam’s ankles and stealing some of his ice cream.

He tries to offer Adam money for his scoop of ice cream, no doubt from the pokémon cards he trades. Adam, in response, traps him in a headlock and gives him a massive noogie.

“I don’t need your money, you goober! I am an adult! With a job! You are an infant child!”

“Blegh! Get off of me! Butthead!”

But he’s laughing when he finally wrenches himself away, sprinting back to the car.

Adam takes the long way back.

By the time he finally makes it back to Lance’s house, it’s well after dark, and Lance’s eyes started to drift shut somewhere between the soundtrack of Mamma Mia and Victorious. He blinks awake when the pull into his driveway, yawning into his elbow. Adam shuts off the car and walks around to his side to help him out. He’s half-asleep on the way up the steps, leaning heavily on Adam’s shoulder.

“I’m so gonna brag to Rachel,” he mumbles to himself.

Adam smiles softly. He vows to take Lance out more often, and especially when the school year starts back up in the fall. It’ll certainly help with the homesickness.

“You do that, kiddo,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Love ya.”

Lance is too out of it to answer. But his hand, clenched rightly in the fabric of Adam’s jacket, speaks loudly enough.

[donna-medusa-gorgon]

*At a trial trying to figure out if the Gorgon kids can enter Heaven*

Sera: You three sinners-

Emily: Wait, are they sinners?

Sera: They’re from hell, of course they’re sinners

Aria: We were born in hell

Adam: Hellborn, then of course they’re not allowed

Emily: But they’re children of the seraphim Abbadona. Does that make them hellborn?

Sera: Er, well, who is your father children?

Angelo: Some dude named Dragon

Sera: Don’t recognize that name, so I’m assuming it’s a sinner so yes that would make them hellborn-

Aria: He was in some gang called the Mal-branches or something.

Sera: …Malebranche? Was your father Draghignazzo?

Aurora: Yeah that

Emily: So they were born from a seraphim and a fallen angel, wouldn’t that make them technically from Heaven?

Adam: Who cares if their parents use to be angels, Charlie was born from a fallen angel, she’s hellborn.

Emily: Yeah but Abbadona was never suppose to fall, it was an accident so they’re from an angel.

Adam: Still fell! They were born in hell so they are hell born it’s in the name!

Emily: So if an angel was born on Earth it would make them human?

Adam: No! That’s different!

Sera: Alright calm down, look Emily they can’t be Heavenborn because they don’t even have divine blood! Children does your mother bleed gold?

Aurora: Mama doesn’t bleed

Sera: You know what good enough, see-

Aria: But when she cut her snakes for a new haircut yeah they bleed gold

Sera: …

Emily: HA

Adam: THEY ARE STILL HELLBORN

*The trial never went anywhere that day*

[marklikely]

another thing that was crazy abt megalopolis is that theres a huge subplot (the main plot of the movie??) about how adam driver is just going around demolishing historic buildings and peoples homes to build his stupid utopian city and everyone is protesting this for obvious reasons but then in the last 10 minutes he just unveils his stupid utopian city and its presented like a huge grand triumph and the demolishings are completely forgotten so you have to assume the movie thinks that coming in and exploding peoples homes with no warning is a good and cool thing for him to do and they shouldnt have been upset by this.

[morgana-ren]

Hey have you guys seen the gortash concept art cause

[ghost-bison]

anyone else hate those three snooty bitches with a passion

[dollhaireverywhere]

Monster High Skullector The Addams Family Morticia and Wednesday Addams

[frances-baby-houseman]

An important thing to remember is if someone is taking 8 weeks to recover from a hernia repair, it’s because they actually had a tummy tuck.

[motorcitygem]

Can I just share how cute my little cousin is

THE WAY SHE SAYS KENNY😭 I can’t get over it