#garage school doodles

[garageinc]

the peak of my creativity in recent weeks

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you do the cullens with a mate who is a painter?

The Cullens with a Painter! Reader

I haven’t painted in YEARS omg, I moved to using my iPad a couple of years ago but I still remember the basics so here we go

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s also an artistic person

So he understands what drives you to create

His favorite thing to do is to play the piano while you paint

It just makes him feel so warm inside

He loves watching you paint as well

It’s so fascinating to watch what you see in your mind and then as you translate it onto the canvas

And he loves your artwork

He hangs it up all over the walls in his room

Genuinely thinks you should enter in a contest

Alice:

She loves your artwork so much

It’s so fascinating to her how you can just conjure up something so amazing

She also loves to buy you new paints and canvases

Every time she’s out buying new clothes or something she sees a new paint and she’s like “ooh that color’s pretty”

Keeps every single thing you make for her

Loves watching you work

She doesn’t care if she’s being creepy

She just loves you and wants to hang out

Jasper:

He’s fascinated and enamored by your emotional state when you work

He loves when you paint faces because your mind flickers to whatever emotion you’re trying to convey on the paper

It’s a very interactive experience for him

He almost likes tuning in to your mind more than your actual artwork

But he does obviously love your paintings

He does whatever you want him to

You need a life model? Well it’s a good thing he can stay still for hours

Want more paint? He already has his car keys in his hand

Rosalie:

She used to be really into painting and drawing

But she always thought she was bad at it so she just stopped

So when you come around she falls in love with it again

She wants you to teach her everything

She’s always hard on herself

She thinks her stuff is never as good as yours

But she loves painting with you

She can almost overlook her own hatred for her artwork

And yes she hangs up everything that you make in her garage

Emmett:

I don’t think he’s a very artsy person

Unless you want to call the fact that he can gut and skin a bear in less than 30 seconds an art form

But he can appreciate good art

So when he sees some of your paintings for the first time he is blown away

“You made these? Like actually? That’s so fucking sick”

Proudly displays anything you give him

You doodled on a paper during school and he stuck it in the front pocket of his binder

And he tells everyone who asks exactly where it came from

Esme:

She’s a painter

I don’t make the rules I just follow them

All of the artwork currently hanging up in the Cullen house is her work

And yes she’s very proud of the grad cap piece

So she is so excited when she finds out you also love to paint

Two peas in a pod

Painting dates are a must

And she is more than happy to take down some of her stuff to make room for yours

You don’t even need to ask

Carlisle:

I feel like he’s a jack of all trades

He’s been around long enough I sure hope he knows how to do everything at least a little bit

But he’s nowhere near as good as you

He’s so proud that his SO is such a talented artist

He convinces the clinic to hang up a couple of your pieces in the boring exam rooms

People compliment them all the time and he tells them exactly who made them

Don’t ever worry about buying art supplies ever again btw

Vampire! Bella:

I don’t remember if she ever drew during the books or movies, but she just screams art kid to me

She had a phase in middle school, thought she sucked so she stopped

So she’s astonished when she sees what you make

“I couldn’t make that even if Van Gogh himself taught me”

She loves watching you work

It’s so calming to her

If she could sleep, she would fall asleep watching you

[outlawruben]

Modern AU headcannons

The Vandermatthews family edition

When John was a teenager he made slime and got it in Dutch’s expensive Persian rug he keeps in the office. (Dutch was LIVID.)

Hosea reads late into the night, which caused Dutch to buy one of those clip on reading lights so he can finally sleep peacefully.

Dutch and Hosea do embarrassing dances in the kitchen/living spaces when the kids are around. Arthur and John cringe hard at this.

John was introduced to Limp Bizkit and his life was forever changed.

Arthur: “GET OUT OF MY ROOM.”

John *In the doorway*: “IM NOT IN YOUR ROOM.”

Arthur: “dinner is ready.”

John: “OKAY.”

Arthur, louder: “OKAY!”

Arthur tans at the beach, John burns

Arthur has straight A’s, John has straight C’s

John will take a (monthly) shower and get the WHOLE floor wet

John’s favorite Christmas was when he got a bass guitar, and Arthur’s favorite was when he got his blue truck.

Arthur sits on Dutch/Hosea’s bed and just spills the tea to Hosea late into the evening (Dutch wants to get ready for bed soon)

Arthur is a PC player, and John is a console player

John has to go to the mall with Arthur when he wants to go alone because “John doesn’t socialize enough”

They both got to choose their bedroom colors, however, John wasn’t allowed to do THE DARKEST black in the store, so his room is a dark grey with a black accent wall. (Arthur’s room is blue)

Branching off of that, Arthur and John could decorate their rooms HOWEVER they wanted, there was no intervention from the dads

Hosea does the “Dad hand” during road trips when the boys have a snack he wants.

Hosea is the designated driver because Dutch has terrible road rage

They live on a pond, in fact Dutch and Hosea argued over it before buying the house, so much so that Hosea threatened a divorce because the ONLY thing he wants is a pond. Dutch folded, and Hosea fishes everyday.

Arthur loved Percy Jackson and John loved Warrior Cats.

Arthur is a cereal eater, and John is a pop-tart eater

The contrast between Arthur’s masterpieces vs John’s doodles are crazy. (They’re both proudly displayed on the front of the fridge no matter what) (yes this is based on their canonical journal entries, sue me)

John and Arthur took those embarrassing Macy’s photoshoots in the early 2000’s that are out on display for everyone to see in the future.

John has an INCREDIBLY embarrassing graduation photo from when he was in his emo phase in high school, and his dads refuse to remove it. (It’s placed next to Arthur’s gleaming grad photo)

Dutch has slippers he wears around the house, and Hosea just wears his socks.

John still doesn’t know how to swim in this AU, Hosea has tried to teach him, but John refuses to get in the water.

They have taxidermy in their house from when Hosea went hunting more often when he was younger.

Somehow Hosea and Dutch’s aesthetics work so well together.

Dutch is very much old money, and maximalist, and Hosea is definitely Vintage and Woodsy (It works together if you saw their house)

You would be convinced that John’s nails were naturally black and chipped from how much he painted them.

Hosea has a “Shop” in the garage like every dad has to have. (It’s full of fishing supplies, paint cans, and other tools ofc)

John’s room is very dark, messy, and covered in posters from every movie/Tv show/video game he’s ever seen/played. Also, making the bed? What’s that?

Arthur’s room is open and airy, with his own mountain murals painted on the walls, a full art desk, and he also doesn’t know what making the bed means.

[moljh]

Boy Next Door

Steve Harrington X Reader

Summary: Steve lives next door and each night he sneaks into your room but you aren't ready to admit how you feel.

General fluff, mentions of sex, no trigger warnings

Your house was situated next door to the Harrington's and you'd lived there forever. Despite living in a very nice part of Hawkins your house was definitely the worst on the block, compared to those on either side, yours looked slightly out of place. Whilst most had pools, formal dining rooms and enough garage spaces for at least four cars, yours didn't even have space in the garden for a pool, let alone a garage. But that didn't bother you, home was a comforting place for you, although your parents weren't exactly home a whole lot, when they were there were family dinners around the table and constant talk.

When you had been younger you had resented that your parents had to work so much, but now you understood why and since your two older siblings had left for college already, you basically had a house to yourself. Although most teenagers would've used this to have some parties, it meant you could watch whatever television program you wanted and go to bed when you pleased. More importantly though it meant that any late night guests wouldn't be questioned.

Living next door to the Harrington's definitely had meant many things for your family, but one you hadn't anticipated was the lonely Steve Harrington coming over every night to see you. He'd been doing it since you two were in middle school. His parents were also usually working, but for them it was in the city or another state and they generally left without much notice or care for their child. You hadn't really thought about how in a house that big with everything a kid could want that Steve would be lonely and desperately so.

Your bedroom window coincidently looked directly into Steve's room and one night when you should've been sleeping you had gotten up for a glass of water and when making it back to the warmth of your comforter, you made eye contact with him. You had both stood there for a moment, seemingly unsure as what to do next when realisation that you were staring at the most popular boy in school came over you and you dashed away from the window.

The next day at school you were grateful not to see Steve and have to give an awkward explanation regarding their night time encounter because you weren't even sure what you would have said. Though to your surprise later that night as you went to bed once again you met eyes with the lonely Harrington in his window as he looked over at you. This strange nightly tradition continued until the end of the week when instead of seeing his eyes from a distance, you were shocked to come face to face with Steve right outside.

He mouthed something at you and gestured for you to open your window as he clung to the window sill, that you presumed he had scaled.

"What are you doing?" you exclaimed, quickly lowering your voice as he clambered in

Tumbling to the carpeted floor he sat up in a huff "Thought I'd come by" he said nonchalantly as if this was something he did all the time

You stood frozen in place for a moment, confused if this was really happening. Not only was a boy in your room but someone who you'd only every spoken to in polite passing and rarely even made eye-contact with at school.

"Why are you in my room?" you questioned him again

"You let me in" was all he said

"Steve" you firmed said to try and get a legitimate response from him

This became a nightly tradition for the two of you. After a shower and getting ready for bed, Steve would show up at your window and you'd let him in. In the beginning he'd simply sit at your desk and doodle with your stuff, but as time went on the two of you starting actually talking and you realised you actually really enjoyed his company. You'd gone over to his house a few times when people had been home at yours, but he preferred your house.

Despite efforts though he never really offered an actual reason as to why he'd snuck into your room that first night. Though it wasn't hard for you to deduct that he didn't like being home by himself and was lonely, potentially even scared of the vacant home apart from his own presence.

You weren't sure if your siblings knew what was happening while they had still been at home, though they never brought it up and your parents were either in a coma-like sleep or working a night shift.

One thing you never questioned however was that despite the intimate friendship the two of you had, why Steve never spoke to you when at school. You weren't popular so you assumed he just probably didn't want to try and explain to his friends why he'd be taking to someone like you. But you also enjoyed when you two were together and didn't want to ruin it by asking.

"I'm assuming you haven't studied for Mrs Connors history test that's on Friday" you asked over your shoulder

"Oh you know me so well y/n" Steve chuckled as he lay on your bed flipping through one of your magazines

"I'll give you a copy of my notes" you said as you continued to take notes

"You're too good to me"

"I know"

You continued to work through the syllabus some more, when you looked at your watch and noted it was nearly midnight.

"I need to go to sleep soon" you declared, turning around to properly look at Steve

"Ok" was all he said, continuing to read whatever article he was up to in the magazine "do women really wear these?" turning the page to you it was an article on how best to wear a thong

"Why are you reading that?" you rolled your eyes

"Just trying to stay educated"

"Oh yeah cause you wear thongs all the time" you laughed

"One of us has to" he quipped back

"How do you know I don't?" you said before processing your words, which made Steve very quickly put down the magazine

"Girls wear thongs y/n" was all he said

"Well last time I checked I'm a girl"

"You know what I mean… like a girl girl" he said trying to make his words make sense

"Yeah ok" you bluntly replied walking to the window "time for you to go"

"Aw fine" he whined and gave you a hug before leaping off the edge

Although he was now practiced in jumping out of your window, it still worried you every time he did it. You waved to him as jumped your fence and dashed across his perfectly manicured lawn and around the to the unlocked back door of his own house.

Later that week you were surprised to hear the familiar tapping on your window as it was a Friday night. Usually Steve would've been out at a party, he was never usually home.

"Why aren't you at Tommy's?" you asked as you pulled open your window

He climbed through "I need to ask you a serious question" he said ignoring your words

"What?"

"How do you get a girl to like you?" he seemed genuine in his question which was odd

The two of you proceeded to have a conversation about how he was desperate to get Nancy Wheeler to fall in love with him. You were confused because he'd never shown any interest in her until now, but you pushed that aside and gave him your best advice.

"Just show interest in the things she likes" you started, "ask her questions about herself and make sure you're looking at her…" adjusting slightly you moved away from Steve as you two were sitting side by side on your bed "girls like it when you show interest"

You two regularly talked about the girls Steve had hooked up with, but this time felt different and you didn't like that. You had never thought of Steve in any other way than just a friend but as you kept giving him advice on how to get Nancy you couldn't help but feel the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy brewing… and you didn't like it.

"You're incredible y/n!" Steve exclaimed cupping your face with his soft hands "I love you!" he said pressing a brief kiss to your forehead and leaping up

The moment was brief but you felt butterflies in your stomach from his unexpected touch. Before realising it, you had lifted your hand and gingerly touched your head where his lips had just been. You were glad that Steve had been too caught up in his thoughts to noticed your actions, as you quickly put your hand back down to your side.

"I've got to go then," he told you, moving back over to the window "I invited Nancy to Tommy's party and hadn't thought of what to do next"

And with that he was gone just as fast as he had come.

You were used to not being anyone's first choice, or their second or even their third or tenth. It hadn't really ever bothered you, but for some reason it now did. Steve was your only real friend, while you had friends as school they were just people you sat with during lunch and next to in class, you never had deep conversations. But with Steve you did.

You knew about how his father treated him, how he cried when he accidentally hit a bird when driving or how he preferred the company of strangers to his own thoughts. And vice versa. He knew of your fears, how you were scared to let your family down by being a burden or when your siblings left you knew they wouldn't be coming back.

This new feeling wasn't welcomed. You didn't like thinking of Steve other than a friend or how his clear interest in Nancy bothered you somehow. So you pushed it down and did your best to ignore it.

Over the next few weeks Steve came over less and less. You'd wait for him until late but then he eventually just stopped showing up at all. It hurt.

In class you found your thoughts drifting and tuning out from what the teachers were saying, you just didn't care. That was why you guessed that when a blue car with California plates showed up one morning you took interest.

Billy Hargrove wasn't like Steve. If anything he was the opposite and that's what you liked. You had always been the girl that people hadn't seen and guys hadn't considered and now the guy that all the girls wanted was looking your way.

You knew it was dumb and that you probably shouldn't have done it but you played along with Billy's interest. He was strong, controlling and knew what he wanted, which was something you weren't used to. It was different and exciting and new.

You and Billy weren't dating but it was obvious to people at school that you two were sleeping together. He'd be seen hanging near your locker and would drop you to and from school each day, usually with you wearing the same clothes as the day before.

It was a strange feeling that you were just floating through life and no one seemed to notice or care. You guessed that was why you enjoyed the company of Billy, you'd replaced the emotional connection you'd had with Steve with that of a physical one with Billy. It was solely just sex between you two, but in that moment it was intimate and you were happily close with someone.

It was fourth period and you had a study break, so you were walking out the front of the main building, with the intention of just sitting on the bleachers in the sun or the time. Concentrating on balancing the books in your arms, you gasped as someone grabbed your arm and pulled you down the side of the building.

It took you a second to process what was happening and then once your eyes focused you were shocked to see Steve in front of you.

"Steve? What the hell?" you exclaimed, going to turn to leave

"Y/n stop" he firmly said, grabbing a hold of your arm once again, "we need to talk"

"What the fuck about?" you raised your eyebrow

"About you!" he shouted waving at your body "about all this"

"What about it?!" you replied, annoyed now at what he was implying

"Y/n what are you doing with Hargrove?" he calmly asked, lowering his voice "He's an asshole"

You scoffed as his words, rolling your eyes at the idea he cared.

"I don't think it's any of your business Steve," you replied "why do you care who I fuck?"

He seemed taken aback by your words "Because you're my friend y/n"

"Since when Steve?!" you said "I think this is the first time you've even spoken to me in like three months and the first time at school I might add!"

He didn't say anything as you kept shouting at him.

"You're embarrassed by me and I'm sick of being your dirty little secret! Billy mightn't be the best person but at least he's not ashamed to be seen with me"

"I never said I was embarrassed by you y/n" he said

"You didn't have to SAY anything" you challenged him "I'm not an idiot Steve"

"I'm sorry…" he muttered

You felt your anger slowly subsiding and the feeling of sadness wash over you. Grabbing your things again, you turned your back to Steve and walked away.

"I would've thought you of all people would've known what's it's like for someone to just not show up" you didn't give him a chance to reply, didn't want to give him the right to have the last word.

You felt a tear slowly roll down your cheek and your cursed that your arms were too full that you couldn't brush it away.

As you lay beside Billy, only a thin sheet between your skin you couldn't help but think that his sheets felt rougher than Steve's. It was dumb. You'd never done anything romantic with Steve and as you were there naked, post sex, you could only think of his sheets.

"Do you miss California?" you rolled onto your side, and asked Billy

"Yeah" was all he said, still staring at the ceiling, hands on his bare chest

"What do you miss about it?" you kept asking, trying to get a feeling for him

"Why do you care y/n?" he suddenly shot back , seemingly uncomfortable by the question

His response made you sit up "Jesus Billy, just trying to get to know you a bit"

He rolled his eyes as he looked at you "We're just sex y/n, this is all it is, don't try and make it something else"

"Yeah, I know" you nodded and slipped out of his bed

He didn't seem to care as you silently pulled up your jeans and grabbed your bra off of his dresser. Once clothed you grabbed your bag and left. Leaving in that moment you were glad you'd never ran into or even seen his parents before.

The sun hit you as you walked back out into the afternoon Hawkins air, the sun was lower in the sky, so you'd been there for a few hours at least.

Getting into your car you felt your chest heave and without warning you began to cry. You didn't like the feeling of not being in control and up until that moment you had felt that you and Billy's situation was on your terms. But you felt stupid for thinking such a thing.

It was just sex. You knew that, that's all you wanted. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself to make it ok.

Driving back home, the sun slowing began to descend and darkness started to replace the light. Taking the usual turns, you pulled into your street and parked outside of your house. It wasn't until you were walking along the front path that you noticed the figure standing in front of your door.

He was waiting there, clearly wanting to have a serious conversation based off of the express burdening his face.

"Steve go home" you bluntly said trying to find you house key

"I'm not going y/n" he said, "we need to have a proper conversation"

"No we don't" was all you said

"Y/n I don't care what you said but you're my friend and I care about you," he replied "I need to know you're ok, I just want my friend back. I miss you"

"Steve I can't go back to what we had before, I deserve more than that" you told him

"I know you do and I'm sorry for treating you like that, it wasn't fair of me" he said

He took a step towards you and you stumbled as your foot slipped off the step behind you, to which Steve impulsively reached out to steady you.

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest and he kept moving closer and closer to you, as he pulled you into him. He wrapped his arms around you, his frame surrounding you whole. He'd held you before but this was different, this was warmth and desire all in one.

"I'm sorry Steve, I just can't do this" you said, pushing yourself away from him chest "your with Nancy and I know you just see me as a friend but…" you couldn't find the right words, you felt stupid trying to find the right thing to say

He cut you off "Nancy and I broke up" he said slowly

You lifted your eyes and looked up at him, studying his face, "Nancy and I just didn't work, it just wasn't right" You heart stopped at his words "She wasn't you"

You went silent as you looked into his brown eyes and slowly moved your hand up his chest. As your hand moved, you felt his own move from your lower back and up towards you face. As you stood there pressed against one another, he lowered his face and soon you felt your lips pressing against his own.

His lips were soft as you had thought they would be. Moving with the motions of his lips, his teeth grazed against your lower lip causing your mouth to open. Soon his tongue met yours and you couldn't help but sigh as he clutched the back of your neck.

His mouth was so gentle against your own and you could feel the slight stubble that was growing on his chin and cheek. You were lost in his touch and you loved it. You felt safe. You felt like your were home.

Standing out there in there on your dimly lit front step, held in Steve's embrace, his lips on yours, it felt right between you two. You could've never have known that all those years ago the boy next door would end up being so much more to you.

[ipswitch-ink]

♡ Hobbies for the Sons of Ipswich ♡ because I think they need some hobbies beyond warlock shit/being hot, you know?

Music and wood carving. There's always music playing with Caleb around, mostly rock. His grandfather liked to wood carve, said that it taught him patience and attention to detail, and he taught Caleb too. It helps with being a warlock, woods can be used to make talismans and things, but he mostly does it for himself...and for you, carving a little charm and hanging it from a charm bracelet for you.

Writing and mechanics. Pogue loves to write and hopes to one day be published. For now, he's mostly scribbling in notebooks (always with a dark blue pen, it's a tradition) and he always has a notebook and pen with him, just in case an idea hits him. Of course he loves working on his bikes and on cars too, music blasting in the garage and his tools everywhere as he gets to work, it's so relaxing and simple compared to everything else in his life.

Music and running. He's always listening to music, much like Caleb, but he dabbles in it too. Plays guitar and piano and writes his own songs (which no one has ever heard/read before), records them all on cassette tapes because he's old school like that. And running helps him clear his head, especially when he starts to lose his temper and get lost in it. That's actually how you meet, Reid blasting music as he runs, stumbling upon a pretty girl and her broken down car in the middle of nowhere.

Art and reading. Ty is a crazy talented artist, mostly in ink and charcoal sketches. But he also dabbles in painting (acrylic and watercolor) and a little in sculpting too. He has a habit of drawing/painting on everything, doodles covering his homework but no one minds. And he's always got a book with him, mostly historical fiction, sci-fi, horror, classics, and (secretly) romance. Pogue actually likes to read too as they're always sharing books.

[chipofsteel]

Grojband headcanons part 2 (yay)

After the events of "six strings of evil" Corey's left eye still has the star mark but you can't really notice it due to his hat. Also he has a mark of the star on his left hand so he wears gloves to cover it up.

Carrie made Larry get his ears pierced because everyone in the Newmans has piercings expect him. Laney did Larry's piercing in the school bathroom for 5 dollars.

Laney had an ear piercing business in high school.

Laney is Vegetarian

Corey has really bad posture but whenever he's with Laney it improves and he immediately stands up straight.

The newmans have their own Groupies called Alex and Ken (Allie and Kate's gender-opposite doppelganger)

Kim and Larry hate each other (they're each other's biggest opp besides kin and laney)

Kin was a fred figglehorn fan.

Laney's bass is her brother's old bass(omg lucas, mention I love my son)

The only word Corey knows in Spanish "puto" which has a lot of different meanings so not even he knows what he's saying.

Kon has a YouTube poop account where he still posts to this today. His most popular video is a YouTube poop about the super Mario super show he made in middle school.

Laney draws in a scene artstyle, and her sketchbook is full of doodles of her and the band going on fun adventures

Even tho Corey is a cis guy he has had his "I'm just a girl" moments like buzzing his hair during a breakdown and giving himself a lip piercing in the same breakdown

Corey hides little dinosaurs around the garage.

[truths33k3r4]

Oh and I was wondering - how do the turtles go to school? Is it an online program or taught solely through Splinter? I actually just started an online class and it definitely seams reasonable that this is what they would use, but I also don’t know what year the story takes place in. Anyways thanks!

Hello, Anon!!!

Since I was homeschooled my whole life, (and have NO CLUE what it's like having online classes or going to public school), I decided the best thing for my lil turts would be the same as what I grew up with. :) For the first ten years of their lives, they are solely taught by Splinter. (Whom has gathered as many used schoolbooks as he could from lost and found, discarded backpacks, the library, and garage sales.)

Sometimes the level of the subjects was a bit high for the brothers, but they had to make due with what they had. By eleven years old, the oldest brothers would help teach the younger. (Whether they wanted to or not.) They would share the same books, always using pencils so Splinter could erase their answers and pass it off to the next sibling.

How Each Turtle Sibling Handled/Handles School

Leonardo- He's well versed in Japanese and loves to write and (sometimes) play music. He’s done many personal studies on soundtracks in his spare time. He only became an A+ student when he became a teen and was given the responsibility of his brothers and family. For years prior to becoming leader, he was known to cheat the most out of all his brothers- always looking for the easy way out of work.

Raphael- He hates school. A lot of it anyways.. But history class has all kinds of battles and wars, so he’s cool with that. Just don’t expect him to remember any dates. He was taught how to speak Japanese, but it might as well have been labeled as a ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. He is a sketcher when it comes to his work notebooks. Every page has little doodles of him and his bros fighting enemies or dressed like famous tv characters.

Donatello- He has already graduated high school, going as fast as he could to finish so he could start working. Even with rushing his studies, he was still an A+ student alongside Leo. (Once the leader took his studies seriously.) He is the most versed in Japanese, mostly because he really enjoys learning how different languages work, as well as how diverse different languages handle grammar, spelling, etc. He loved most of school, except for writing class. He’s not the most creative brother, so he found it boring and useless to learn how to write tales or poems. 

Lotus- She was only taught a few things in her earlier years by the kind doctor from her past. __ would smuggle children’s books into Lotus' cell, and would teach her how to speak and sign. She can’t write- yet. But Splinter and Mikey help her to learn how as time progresses. She has a great memory and learns very quickly.

Michelangelo- School is.. fine. Not his favorite, but it gives him extra time to hang out with his brothers. He’s the least versed in Japanese, mostly because he was very little and didn’t understand a thing when Sensei taught his brothers. He can remember some words and phrases, but that’s about it. He wishes ‘Art’ was a class, but Splinter never really found any books on the subject, so he had to go in blind. He didn’t mind though. His best subjects were reading and animal science. He loves to use his imagination, and has a really clear voice, so reading came very naturally to him. He refuses to open a book though, unless there’s pictures inside.

As for what year this story takes place in- I haven't actually decided yet. XD For now, in the current story, I'll go with it's the mid 2000's. (Might change that later- but I'll use it for now.)

Great question! :)

~ Melissa

[peachiejeongin]

The Phantoms Part 2: Wake Up | Bang Chan

Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here) | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a huge night for Chan, Changbin, and Han; they would be playing their biggest show yet at the Orpheum! Yet, it all slipped from their grasp within a matter of a few seconds, as all three passed away just hours before the show. What happens when they end up on their old garage floor and meet a someone who can make their dreams come true again?

Pairing: phantom!Bang Chan x fem!reader [Occurs somewhat in this chapter]

Genre: Julie and the Phantoms/3RACHA AU, Crack, Angst, Fluffy Moments

Warnings: Mentions of death, grief and loss of a parent, slight bullying

Notice: Hello, my loves! I decided to split episode one into two chapters so it would not be as long! I feel as if this part is a bit repetitive and perhaps a tad rushed, so I do apologize :,) I would also like to clarify that a few aspects of the plot have been edited or removed to fit the concept of this imagine and for brevity! As always, I do NOT own the rights to 'Julie and the Phantoms,' nor any of its characters!!! Enjoy the story!

"Alright, we have one final performance. Y/n?"

The sound of your name snapped you out of your daydream, your pen freezing mid-doodle on the back of your sheet music. The teacher's eyes were fixed on you, expectant and unyielding. Panic shot through your chest like a jolt of electricity. You had been counting on the bell to save you, to delay your performance just one more day; however, it seemed as if luck was not on your side.

Growing up, you loved music; your mom, ever so patient and passionate, had taught you how to play every instrument possible, from piano to guitar even going so far as to learn a few drum beats to turn you into the ultimate musical prodigy. Of the plethora of instruments, piano was your speciality; your mother always joked that you could play a Mozart composition with your eyes closed. Music was always the niche for you and your mom.

Now, your mom had passed away, and with her died your passion for playing.

Your newfound disdain for music had not just seeped into your personal lift; it was starting to dismantle the diligent work you had put into your high school’s prestigious music program, one you had worked tirelessly to get into. Motivation to participate in performances, showcases, or even simple rehearsals had evaporated, leaving you adrift. The consequences of your disengagement were becoming painfully clear. Just yesterday morning, the program’s director had pulled you aside, her tone sharp and uncompromising. She made it clear: if you did not perform in this week’s showcase, you would be removed from the program.

Thus, you found yourself rising from your seat in class, the screech of the chair legs pushing back cutting through the silence of the classroom. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, each beat seeming as if it were a signal of the impending doom ahead. You dragged your feet against the ground, anxiously gazing at the piano placed directly in the center of the classroom; the class's gaze followed your heavy, hesitant steps. As you reached the instrument, your trembling hands fumbled with the sheet music, placing it on the stand with an almost imperceptible shake.

"It's okay, y/n," your teacher gave your back a slight pat. "Take your time."

Her words echoed in your mind, yet they did little to ease the dreading ache in your heart; you felt as if every action you took was being rerecorded in slow motion. You hesitantly sat down on the piano bench, the familiar creak of the wood grounding you momentarily. You shakily adjusted your sheet music, perfectly aligning the papers. Your hands shook lightly as you hovered your fingers over the piano keys, hesitating in your dormant abilities, perhaps even questioning them. The weight of expectation bore down on your shoulders, and you felt a pricking sting in the corners of your eyes; tears were threatening to spill over into the vulnerability you were trying so desperately to suppress.

In that moment, all you could think of was yourself as a little girl, perched on your mom's lap. You remembered the warmth of her hands as she gently guided your small fingers to the keys, her voice soft and encouraging as she taught you your first ever composition. The memory was so vivid, it almost felt as if you could hear her voice again, but your heart aching pulled you back into the present.

Your fingers twitched as you attempted to play a note, but your hands came into contact with your lap instead of the instrument, frozen in hesitation. You let out a deep, aggravated sigh and hung your head down, the pressure of your failure too much to bear.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled to your instructor. "I can't do this." The teacher's gaze saddened, her sorrowful expression laced with understanding. She gave a small, sympahtetic nod before gently instructing you to head back to your seat. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you hurriedly gathered your music sheets, the papers messily fixated in your grip. Keeping your eyes fixed on the floor, you quickly navigated your way back to your chair, where your best friend, Flynn, waited. Her presence was postulating and comforting, offering quiet reassurance as you sank into the seat besides him.

"Hey, it's okay." Flynn reached out, her hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. Her demeanor was mellow, a blend of sadness and empathy as she leaned closer. "You tried. That's all that matters."

"Is this the part where we clap?" A shrill, grating voice pierced your ears. There was no mistaking it; it belonged to Carrie, your ex-best friend, who seemed to envy your every breath.

"Watch it, Carrie," Flynn warned, side eyeing her deviously as the bell to dismiss class sounded.

It was surreal to think Carrie had once been your closest friend, someone you entrusted every secret with. Yet, everything changed when her father struck gold; he was a musician, and an incredibly famous one at that. The release of his first album catapulted him, and subsequently his daughter, into a wealthy lifestyle; this newfound luxury altered Carrie entirely. The warmth and loyalty you once knew were replaced by traits of arrogance and a biting jealousy that only grew with time.

Flynn motioned for you to walk with her, but you stayed behind for a minute, dejectedly looking towards the teacher. She gave a sad smile, her eyes conveying her despondent tone before she even spoke.

"I'll miss, you, y/n."

---

You pushed open the front door of your home, the familiar squeak of the frame echoing in the quiet entryway. With a weary exhale, you shrugged off your backpack and tossed it down in the corner of the living room, not bothering to check if it landed upright. The events of the day replayed begrudgingly in your mind as you trudged your way towards the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"Oh good!" you heard your father exclaim from the kitchen. "You're home. I was about to go watch your brother's game, but then I got a phone call." As you reached the top of the steps, you paused and turned around, your gaze landing on your father's stance in the doorway; he had his camera in hand, yet the familiar device seemed almost out of place with the tension rising in the atmosphere. His expression was undeterminable, but the weight of his stare made your stomach churn with guilt. A regretful look crossed your face, figuring he already knew about your removal. from the music program

"Yeah, I figured as much," you confessed, your eyes glued to the ground.

"Well, it was my realtor friend."

A wave of relief washed over you, the weight on your shoulders lightening; for a fleeting moment, you were grateful for the small miracle. Yet, as you looked up at him and noticed the optimism on his face, a knot tightened in your stomach. Taking into account the gravity of his statement made your solace disappate.

"Oh, right. That." In hindsight, this phone call was not any better. Since your mom's passing, your dad had constantly brought up selling the house, convinced it was the best way to get a, "fresh start." He thought moving away from the place that held so many memories of her would help him escape the grief that lingered in every room. But to you, this house was more than four walls; it was the last place where everything still felt whole, where her presence could still be felt.

"Yeah, and she says if we are serious about selling the house, then she wants me to take some pictures for the website." He motioned to his camera briefly. "Which means we'll have to do a lot of cleaning and get rid of some stuff, and I was hoping maybe," he stopped speaking for a moment, taking what seemed like a reluctant breath, "you could tackle mom's studio? I mean, you're the expert. Your brother and I wouldn't even know where to begin."

Your eyes widened and your gaze was back to staring at your shoes. You felt a lump in your throat as you anxiously pondered the idea.

Since your mom’s passing, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to step back into the garage she had lovingly transformed into her music studio. The guitars stood untouched, their strings quietly gathering dust. The drum kit sat still, its once lively rhythm now replaced by the soft whispers of the wind. Even the piano keys, once vibrant under her fingertips, were now dulled by neglect. You had tried to go back once, but the memories overwhelmed you before you even reached the stone path leading to the building. Now, knowing that your family home, and your mom’s studio along with it, would soon be sold made the weight in your chest unbearable. The thought of losing this last physical connection to her filled your mind with an ache you couldn’t shake. Your dad, watching you wrestle with the turmoil, caught onto your fearful hesitation, his expression softening as if he could sense the storm raging inside you.

"Honey, if you don't want to, it's okay," he reassured you. "I can always-"

"No, it's fine," you interjected. "I'll start on it tonight." You nodded, a blend of hesitance and determination flickering across your face. Deep down, you were not sure if you were sure that ready to face the ghosts of your past, but you were sure that you were tired of letting fear hold you back. Even if the weight of your emotions felt insurmountable, you knew you could not let cowardice define you, not when it came to your mom’s musical legacy. You at least owed it to her to honor her craft. You had to do this.

"Yeah?" your dad inquired hopefully. You nodded your head and your dad clasped his hands together in delight. "Awesome, sweetheart, thank you!" He made his way to the front door before suddenly stopping and turning back to you. "And uh, don't forget the loft. You know those old instruments that were there when we moved in? Like, the drumkit and the red bass and such? They need a new home."

"Mom would like that," you agreed, reminiscing on your mom's kind heart.

"Yeah, she would." Your dad checked his wrist-watch, his solumn expression quickly changing into one of worry. "Oh no, I am going to be late." He scrambled around the living room in search of his car keys.

"On the counter," you called to him; his gaze shifted to the countertop in the kitchen, and he caught sight of the silver key ring.

"You're a lifesaver!" He snatched his keys and shot a playful finger gun towards you as he made his way out the front door.

---

Night time came much too fast.

You begrudgingly trekked down the cobblestone path leading to your mom's studio. The night was quiet, the stars and moon being the only sources of illumination down the path. Your hand quivered as you reached for the door handle; you paused for a moment as you fully grasped the handle, taking a deep breath before opening the door and flicking on the light switch.

The studio looked untouched, frozen in time, exactly as it had been the last time you stepped inside with your mom. The faint scent of wood polish and sheet music still lingered in the air, like a fragile whisper of the past. You stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in, your eyes scanning the familiar space as if seeing it for the first time. Every detail, from the neatly stacked sheet music, to the instruments resting in their usual places, felt both comforting and saddening; it was a bittersweet reminder of a world you could not bring yourself to fully return to.

Your feet carried you to the piano first, your finger absently tracing a line through the thin layer of dust that had settled on the keys. The instrument, once vibrant with life, now seemed like a relic of a distant past. Your gaze drifted to the small table beside it, landing on a framed photo that had remained untouched. It was a picture of you and your mom, taken on a sunny day at the amusement park. The two of you were grinning ear to ear, your laughter practically radiating from the image. Now, the sight of those bright beams brought a hollow ache in your chest. You picked up the photo, the cool metal of the frame grounding you as your thumb gently brushed over its corner.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," you regretfully apologized as you made eye contact with her photograph. "I'm sorry I haven't been out here." You delicately sat down the picture frame and made your way to the opposite corner of the room. Here lay your mom's "treasure chest," as she referred to it. Truthfully, it was a chest that contained all of her collectibles from over the years, from music albums to band t-shirts she had decorated with shimmering sequins and jewels.

Curiosity tugged at you as you knelt before the chest, its lid creaking slightly as you pushed it open. You began sifting through the items inside, each one layered with the dust of forgotten time. Your fingers brushed over fabric, paper, and finally something smooth and hard. Your nails clinked against the plastic, piquing your interest. Gripping the object, you pulled it free and held it up to the light; it was a CD encasing. Its cover was black with bold, curving white letters spelling out the band’s name across the front.

"3RACHA."

'"I guess some music while I'm cleaning wouldn't hurt," you thought aloud. You walked over to the coffee table, sat in front of the brown, leather couch in the center of the studio; sat atop the table was a retro CD player your mom had found at a garage sale about five or so years ago. Carefully, you removed the disc from its casing and deposited it into the player, pressing the play button once it was fully inserted. You began making your way up to the loft, deciding to tackle that area first as the music began to play...

"Take off Last stop Countdown till we blast open the top Face first, full charge..."

It was here that the music began to sound a bit strange. The melody began to warp, becoming almost unrecognizable as it was gradually overtaken by a disturbing sound that sounded like...screaming? At first faint, it quickly swelled, rising to an unbearable intensity that made your skin crawl. The screeching noise clawed at your senses, so sharp and overwhelming that you instinctively clamped your hands over your ears, desperate to block it out.

There was a flash of light, and three guys appeared on the garage floor out of nowhere. They groaned in pain, their bodies stiff as if waking from a long slumber. You let out a bewildered gasp, the scene before you surreal. The three of them got to their feet, their eyes wide as they took in their new surroundings. They looked around, dazed and amazed

"Woah!" the middle one spoke, his tone laced with a moderate Australian accent. "Woah! How did we get back here?" he inquired to nobody in particular, pointing at every facet in the studio.

A horrified, prolonged scream escaped your mouth before you could comprehend the sight in front of you, causing all three boys to look at you; fear was present in all three of their gazes as well. Before you knew it, they were screaming as well, squirming around in terror and holding onto each other for dear life. You were still shrieking as you ran out of the studio, fleeing back to your house as fast as your legs could carry you. You only ceased your sprint when you ran into your dad.

"Woah, slow down!" he chuckled while commanding. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I have!" you spit out without thinking, making your brother express his intrigue. You did not respond, however, fleeing up the porch stairs and running into your bedroom. You immediately pulled out your cell phone, texting Flynn your emergency code.

'SOS!'

---

"Come on, Flynn," you groaned as the minutes dragged by. "SOS means SOS! Why aren't you answering me?"

"Sweetheart?" you heard a knock at your door and squealed at the noise, instantly calming down once you saw that it was your dad. "Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were alright." He took a seat besides you on your bed, looking down at you concerned.

"You don't believe me, do you?" you inquired, your gaze intently focused on your pillows.

"Of course I do, honey," your dad responded. "I see your mom all the time!"

"This isn't like that."

"I know, it's different for everybody, but-"

"Dad, you're not listening to me!" you interrupted, exasperated out of frustration. "I saw something out there, something that wasn't mom."

"Okay, I'm sorry," your dad threw his hands up. "Tell me what you saw. Nobody else is listening, and this is not a judgmental environment."

"You sound like the psychiatrist," you told him bluntly.

"Yeah, well maybe seeing the psychiatrist again isn't such a bad idea," your dad attempted to crack a joke, but the comment riled you up further.

"Can we just drop this?!" you asked, your voice rising to an octave near a yell, the frustration and confusion in your words impossible to contain. Your dad let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he stood up, the weight of your question settling between you.

"Okay. Dropped."

---

You tried to talk yourself out of returning to your mom’s studio, but curiosity gnawed at you, pulling you back. You needed to understand what you had seen, to prove to yourself, and to your dad, that you were not losing your mind. With a hesitant breath, you made your way down the cobbled path until you stood before the familiar door of the studio. In your hands, you gripped a makeshift crucifix, hastily crafted from sticks

"Are you still here?" you quieried the empty building. "Whatever you are?" You spun in every direction, your eyes scanning the shadows and corners, searching for something—anything—that might explain what had just occurred. stopping when you turned back to the front entrance. When you finally turned back toward the front entrance, you saw nothing. The room was still, silent, as if it were mocking you. A wave of frustration washed over you, and with a defeated sigh, you dropped your hands, letting them fall to your sides. The emptiness around you felt suffocating, and you wondered if you were just imagining it all.

"I know I saw something, I'm not crazy!"

"Well, we're all a little crazy, mate." You heard the same Australian accent from earlier behind you; you swiftly circled around to see the same three boys standing behind you. They all had small smiles plastered on their faces. Reflexively, you began to scream once more, holding out the crucifix in front of you; this time, you were quickly shushed by the Australian boy.

"Please stop screaming!" he pleaded with you, and you did as demanded, albeit reluctantly.

"W-who are you?!" you interrogated. "What are you doing in my mom's studio?"

"Your mom's studio?" the Australian bewilderedly asked as he took a few steps toward you; you swiftly pointed the crucifix towards him, chasing him throughout the middle section of the garage as if he were some demonic being that was about to possess you.

"This is our studio! Trust me! Okay sure, the grand piano is new, and..." Your efforts caused the teenage boy to scramble over the aforementioned instrument; however, his attention quickly fixated on the couch. His eyes widened, seeming as if he was looking at an old friend for the first time.

"MY COUCH!" he yelled in delight as he threw himself onto the piece of furniture, kicking his feet up onto one of the arm rests. His eyes closed in a restful manner; when they opened once more, they trailed to the guitar beside the couch, the sight of which made him stand up once again. His eyebrows knit together as he pointed to the unfamiliar instrument. "But that is definitely not my six-string." He hurriedly shuffled back over to the other two, confusion rattling in his brain. "Give us a second," he gave you a brief, somewhat phony smile before turning around and forming a huddle with the guys. You listened in on their conversation:

"Guys! What is going on? How did she get her stuff in here so fast?"

"Maybe she's a witch? I mean, there are chairs on the ceiling," the shortest of the three suggested, pointing up at the ceiling; he was buffer than the other two, sporting a white, tight fitted t-shirt, a leather jacket, and a red flannel wrapped around his waist.

"Okay, witches aren't real," the boy who you could best describe as looking like a squirrel shook his head in disbelief; he had on a black backwards cap with a pink hoodie snug under a jean jacket.

"You sure? Because I used to think ghosts weren't real!"

"Fair point."

"Okay, so we're definitely going with witch," the Aussie decided, looking in between his mates for reassurance on the claim; he was wearing a white band tee with the sleeves cut off and a blue oversized jacket over top.

The buffer boy nodded his head in agreement; however, the squirrel knitted his eyebrows togehter, waving his hand dismissively in contrast.

"No, we are not! Okay, she is not a witch; she is clearly just scared. So let someone with a softer touch handle this!" He concluded his monologue with a sharp clap of his hands toward the other two, the sound echoing in the stillness. He began to approach you, his steps slow and deliberate, dragging as though he had all the time in the world. The air between you thickened, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he drew closer, his movements unhurried but somehow foreboding.

"Why are you in our studio?" he asked, accentuating his mouth in a strange motion. In a burst of sheer fear, you thrust the makeshift cross forward, driving it straight into his middle. You gasped in horror as the crucifix passed through his form as if he were nothing but a faint, shifting hologram.

"Oh my gosh!" you shrieked as you pulled the cross away; your panicked eyes flickered first to the cross, then horrifiedly shifted back to the boy. "How did you do that?!" He looked back at the other two narrowing his eyes out of conclusive annoyance.

"Okay, clearly, you're not getting it," he condescended, rubbing the corners of his eyes once he turned back towards you. "Okay, we are ghosts," he motioned to himself and the other two. "We're just three ghosts who have no idea how they got back home but they are really happy to be here! So thank you for the new decor, it really brightens up the room, but we've got it from here."

"We're actually in a band called 3RACHA," the Australian chimed in, causing you to swiftly adjust your head in order to get a good look at him while the shorter boy chimed in with, "Tell your friends!"

Woah, he was hot. Not in the typical high school heartthrob way, but more in the supernatural sense, like someone you would never expect to develop a crush on, yet here you were, inexplicably drawn to him. His smile was dazzling, cheeky, and almost too perfect, while his loose band tee couldn't quite hide the way his slim yet muscular frame moved with an effortless confidence. You found yourself lingering on every detail, but you snapped out of your daze when he spoke again, grounding yourself back in reality.

"Last night was supposed to be a huge night for us," he explained. "It was supposed to change our lives."

"I'm pretty sure it did," the short one responded, earning a flick on the back of the head from the Aussie. You were convinced you were losing it, even if everybody was, "all a little crazy."

"This is freaking me out," you exclaimed. In order to prove their claims, and reassure the doubt lingering in your gut, you pulled out your cellphone from the back pocket of your jeans.

"What is that? What are you doing?" The Australian peered over your shoulder, motioning to your cellphone.

"It's my phone," you started to expound, but quickly caught yourself, biting back the words before they could spill out. Instead, you shifted the conversation, turning the focus back to yourself with an awkward yet determined attempt to regain control. "Nope! Stop talking to them! They aren't real! There's no such thing as cute ghosts!"

"Aw, she thinks we're cute!" the shorter boy cooed. His adoring realization elicited a warning eye from you, prompting him to silence as he pressed his lips into a thin line. Your attention refocused on your phone, and you scrolled through social media applications and gaming selections until you found your search engine. Your fingers fidgeted as you typed the band's name into the search bar in a rushed manner.

"Who ya calling?" the boy with the squirrel-esque features inquired. You jerked your head up to face him, annoyance washing over you after being inquired for the second time that night.

"I'm googling the band Sriracha."

"THREEracha," all three of them corrected at the same time. You jumped back slightly, quickly correcting the name in the search bar. As soon as you typed in the band’s name, the first result that popped up was a news article titled, "3RACHA: A Hollywood Tragedy." Intrigued, you clicked the link, and within seconds, a photo of four boys appeared on the screen. Three of them were unmistakably the ones standing right in front of you.

"Okay! There is a 3RACHA." You spoke to yourself, relieved that this was not just your imagination. The three guys nodded as if to say, "Obviously!" You read the first paragraph of the article, which stated as follows:

"Last week the music industry lost an up and coming band that could have taken the world by storm and topped the charts. 3RACHA was a local band out of Hollywood having sold out its showcase on Saturday. Unfortunately, the band never made it to the stage. Three of its members, Chan, Han, and Changbin, tragically died when they ate bad street hot dogs. It was supposed to be their biggest night, opening live at the Orpheum Theater on the Sunset Strip. They were only 17. There was a surviving band member, Hyunjin, but no one has been able to track him down and talk to him about his friends dying that fateful night."

You focused particularly on the date the article was released: July 29, 1995.

"You did die," you muttered upon seeing it. "But not last night. You died 29 years ago." As the words fell from your mouth, all three boys exchanged glances, their faces twisted in confusion, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape in disbelief.

"What? No way. That's not possible. After we floated out of the ambulance, all we did was go to that dark room where Han cried." Upon the shorter boy's statement, the squirrel-esque boy began to stammer.

"Well," he prolonged his high-pitched voice. "I don't think, I think we were all pretty upset, y'know?"

"But that was only for like an hour," the Australian boy jerked his head up, the look in his eyes nothing short of perplexation. "We just showed up here."

"Look, I'm just telling you what my phone says." You turned your phone around so they could read the article for themselves. "You died in 1995 when you were all 17. It's now 2024. All three boys looked at each other, their expressions a mix of utter confusion, as if their very souls were trying to make sense of what was happening.

"So, it's been 29 years?" the squirrely boy raised his hands behind his head, his posture tense, as if he were on the verge of a breakdown. "I have been crying for 29 years?! How is this possible?!"

"Well, you're a very emotional person," the shortest attempted to put his hand on the boy's shoulder in hopes of comforting him, but it was immediately shrugged off.

"I AM NOT."

You sighed in frustration at the boys' conversation, turning to leave the studio. But before you stepped out, you paused and glanced back at them, your brow knitted in vexation.

"Look," you began sternly, "I am very sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn't your studio anymore. You need to leave." You attempted to exit again, but the Australian member called for you to wait.

"We never got your name," he tilted his head and slightly smiled in an attempt to be friendly.

"Y/n," you answered bluntly.

"Cool, I'm Chan..." he moved towards you, resulting in the crucifix being raised once again, "...by the way, and this is-"

"Changbin! Hey, I'm Changbin," the short, buff boy introduced himself, his soft voice not matching his build in the slightest.

"I'm Han, how's it going," the squirrel-esque male was the last the greet you. You shrugged your shoulders and pursed your lips.

"Okay?" you muttered, shaking your head before storming out of the studio. You slammed the door behind you, leaving the three boys standing there, dazed and speechless.

"Y/n seems nice!" Changbin beamed after a few seconds. Chan raised an eyebrow, a puzzled frown tugging at his lips, while Han’s gaze flickered between Changbin and him, clearly thrown off by the awkwardness of the situation.

"Did you miss the part where she kicked us out, Bin?"

---

After setting the table and blessing the food, you tried your best to settle into what should have been a normal family dinner. As normal as it could be, at least, considering the bizarre events of the day; after all, encountering three ghosts that no one would believe you about was not something you could easily put behind you. You poked at your plate absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts, when suddenly, you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder. You jolted, glancing up to find your aunt standing behind you, her face serious. She had come over for dinner, but now her presence seemed even more weighty, as she leaned in and whispered how she needed to have an important conversation with you.

"Now, sweetie," she began sugarly, "I want you to know there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of?" Your eyes widened in alarm, a cold wave of realization washing over you. You could feel the weight of her words hanging in the air, and you knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Uh, that's so funny of you to say!" you tried to blow off the conversation.

"Well, honey," your aunt continued, her voice soft yet firm, "all I was going to say was that now that you aren't in the music program anymore, you can focus on your academics!" You let out a quiet breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your body unwinding with the release of tension. But as your eyes flickered toward your father, you immediately sensed the disappointment etched across his face, further proven by the way he dramatically cleared his throat. The action hung there like a shadow, unspoken but heavy, and it made the room feel colder. Your aunt looked at him, her expression etched with confusion.

"You got the email from the school, yes?" she asked.

"We're still discussing it," your dad replied harshly. His angry, piercing stare never left your solemn gaze, causing your heart to sink down to your stomach.

"Eh, no matter," your aunt dismissed. "Now, excuse me. I have to run to the restroom." She strutted away from the table, seemingly in attempts to escape the conversation she had started.

"So, when were you going to tell me?"

Before you could formulate a response, a sudden blast of rock music pierced through the air, reverberating from somewhere in the distance. The unmistakable beat of the guitar and heavy drums echoed from the garage, loud enough to drown out the quiet tension at the table. It was jarring, almost out of place, and it drew your attention away from the conversation.

"What is that?" your father inquired, his voice laced with alarm.

"Uh, I must have left the stereo on in the garage!" you exclaimed. "Let me go turn it off!" You darted out of the house and out of the conversation. Your heart raced as you made your way toward the garage, and as you rounded the corner, the noise grew louder. You froze for a moment, eyes wide, as you took in the sight of the three boys. They were completely immersed in their music, jamming out with an ease that left you speechless. Somehow, they had found their instruments and were tearing through an old rock song, the sound of their music filling the air like an electrifying presence.

"Guys, cut it out!" you yelled. They did not listen to you, however, drowning your command out with a crescendo of music. You rolled your eyes, reaching down to unplug Chan's guitar from the speaker; you threatened to do the same with Changbin's bass, but the music halted before you resorted to that measure. "The whole neighborhood could hear you! I thought I told you guys to leave." To your surprise, the band looked more delighted than depressed.

"People can hear us play?" Chan asked, a cheeky smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. His confidence was almost teasing, as if he were fully aware of the effect his music, and perhaps his presence, was having on you. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from blushing, your heart suddenly racing for reasons you could not quite explain. The playful glint in his eyes only made it harder to focus.

"Yes! My dad specifically!" you snapped, your voice a little sharper than you intended. You tried to mask the shy undertone with feigned anger, crossing your arms as if that might make the situation feel less awkward.

"So, only you can see us, but everybody can hear us?" Changbin asked rhetorically. "What kind of ghosts are we?!"

"Who cares man!" Chan yelled out enthusiastically. "People can hear us play!" The three of them came together at Han's drumset, fistbumping and high fiving one another.

"We may be dead, but our music isn't!" Han remarked. You sighed, frustration bubbling up as you stood there, irritated by the bizarre turn of events. Everything about this situation felt off, with your dad, and now the ghosts casually playing rock music in your garage. It was all too much to process, and yet, here you were, stuck in the middle of it all.

"Why can’t you guys be normal ghosts?!" you shouted, your voice higher and sharp with frustration. The words burst out before you could stop them, making all three boys flinch in surprise. "Hang out at an old mansion! I hear Pasadena’s nice!" Without waiting for a response, you stormed out of the studio, the door slamming behind you with a force that seemed to shake the walls.

"I've always wanted to go to Pasadena," Changbin muttered, completely oblivious to your frustration. Chan was the first to react, teleporting out of the garage with Han close behind him. Changbin, still lost in his Pasadena fantasies, followed after he snapped back to reality. Within seconds, all three of them appeared in front of you just as you reached the steps leading up to your house. You squealed in shock, your heart skipping a beat at the sudden appearance of the ghosts. But before they could say anything, annoyance quickly washed over you, the frustration you’d been holding back resurfacing in full force.

"What now?!" you asked them, your tone encapsulated by rage. You crossed your arms, your gaze impatiently moving between all three of them as you waited for an answer.

"Look, I know this is all completely insane," Chan began to tell you, "but you do know how rad this is? People, actual people can hear us play!" He was absolutely stoked, contrasting your sorrowful demeanor.

"Yeah, it's just I've just had a really, really awful day. I gotta go." You attempted to evade the pep-talk, but Chan began again before you could get too far.

"Well, I'm sorry you had a bad day, but three guys just found out that they had a bad 29 years," he retaliated, "and then they found out that the one thing they lived for in the first place they can still do. That's pretty rad."

"You're right. It's just..."

"Your bad day. Yeah. I know," Chan interjected. "Look, I'm sorry we came into your life, but what I just felt in there actually made me feel alive again. We all felt alive again. So, you can kick us out if you want, but we're not giving up music. We can play again. That's a gift no musician would ever turn down."

You sighed, the sound a mixture of irritation and a lingering sadness that weighed heavy in your chest. The frustration from earlier still simmered, but Chan’s words caught you off guard. "You gotta know that. Clearly, your mom was into music." His voice was gentle, almost too understanding, and it only made the ache in your heart grow stronger. You shifted your gaze from him to the ground, the quiet pressure of his statement settling in. It felt like a reminder you were not ready to hear.

"Was," you corrected softly, your voice catching slightly. "She passed away." The words hung in the air, heavy and final. The boys exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting from playful to somber.

"I am... so sorry," Chan murmured, his voice filled with genuine regret. He moved as if to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, but his ghostly fingers passed straight through you, the gesture falling short. Despite the ethereal nature of his attempt, the warmth of his intention still made your heart skip a beat, leaving a strange mix of comfort and sadness swirling within you.

"Yeah, we didn't know," Han explained, his mind racing with panic.

"It's all right," you breathed out, regret now present in your voice. "You guys haven't seen her anywhere, have you? From wherever you're from." You figured they would not have, but it never hurts to ask.

"Um..." Chan hesitated. "No. No, I mean, you're kind of the first person we've seen."

"Yeah, but she's not dead, so it doesn't answer her question," Changbin put his two sense in, earning an irritated side-eye from Han.

"Yeah. I think she knows what we mean. I'm sorry for your loss," Chan commented once again, his eyes just as dejected as yours were.

"Thanks," you shook your head in understanding. "Sorry I got mad. You guys are kinda good."

"Kinda?" Chan sounded playfully offended. "Y-Y-You know that's like 29 years of rust just getting dusted off." For the first time since meeting the boys, you smiled at them, and your grin made Chan's eyes light up.

"Yeah," he mumbled, his gaze lingering on you with an almost admiring intensity. He didn’t say anything more, until Han, with a knowing look, smacked his shoulder to snap him out of it. Chan blinked, visibly shaking himself from the moment. "Uh, do you play the piano too?" he asked, his voice suddenly more tentative, trying to shift the attention away from his earlier slip. The change in his tone was almost too obvious, but the question itself felt genuine.

You dithered slightly before responding: "No. No, I don't play. That was my mom's stuff in there. She's an amazing songwriter." You puzzled yourself by the lie, knowing full good and well you could play.

"She was," Chan nodded in agreement. You looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

"Wait. How would you know?"

"There's a song on the piano," Chan explained. "If it's hers, then your mom was really talented." His tone had a certain fondness to it, as if he knew your mother like an old friend; it made your face go hot. The compliment of your mother's abilities caused you to reconsider your prior statements.

"I guess," you began while grinning, "if you guys need a place to stay, you can stay here." The boys widened their eyes in delight, their mouths forming into bright grins. "There's a bathroom in the back and a couch that turns into a bed if you still use any of that stuff." Upon finishing your words, Changbin instantly threw his hand up.

"Dibs on the shower!" You side-eyed the boy but laughed at his strange actions. "I just really like showers and sometimes the occasional bath."

"You are so weird," Han commented while throwing an arm around the boy and leading him into the studio. Chan giggled at the actions of his bandmates before turning around to face you.

"Thank you, y/n," he nodded, his close-mouthed smile warm and sincere, as if your kindness meant more than words could express. "See you tomorrow?" His voice was gentle, a hint of hope behind it, but you could not bring yourself to meet his gaze. You looked down at the ground, your heart beating faster as your timidness took over.

"Yeah, you will," you finally nodded meekly; Chan bit his lip excitedly before joining Han and Changbin in the studio. You shook your head in disbelief, smiling at nothing in particular.

"This is too weird."

---

All night, you thought about what Chan had said:

"There's a song on the piano. If it's hers, then your mom was really talented."

What song could it have been? You thought back to all the songs your mom had written before her passing. She was undeniably talented, but most of them were not the kind that would have evoked such deep, overwhelming emotion. With this thought spinning in your head, you reluctantly woke up early for school the next morning. The darkness outside still held onto the quiet of night, the sun just beginning to grace the horizon with its pale light. You dressed quickly, your movements automatic as your mind continued to race. Despite the overwhelming sense of dread you felt every time you approached the studio, there was something else undeniable pulling you back. It was ironic, really, that this was your fourth visit to the studio in just two days, and yet it still felt like stepping into a place that had been off-limits for years. The weight of it all settled in your chest, but you could not shake the nagging feeling that you needed to be there.

You walked straight to the piano, the familiar coolness of the keys beneath your fingertips positioning you as you hesitated for only a moment before pressing your fingers gently against them. The sound was quiet, barely a whisper, but it was enough to settle your nerves. Your gaze quickly found the song Chan had mentioned, your eyes scanning over the notes as if searching for something you could not quite name.

This song was new; it was not like any other one your mom had taught you how to play. You read the lyrics, tearing up as each word resonated deep within your soul; it was almost as if this was her departing message to you. Your eyes flicked to the bottom of the page, a handwritten note from your mom reading: "Never give up, y/n. I love you, forever."

You sat down on the piano bench, your fingers finding the starting notes. Taking a deep breath, you began to play, adding your own rhythm as the melody unfolded. As your voice joined in, it felt natural, almost as if the song had always been inside you.

"Here's the one thing I want you to know You got someplace to go Life's a test yes But you go toe to toe You don't give up no you grow."

The lyrics poured out softly, carrying the weight of memories and emotions you hadn’t known you were ready to face. For a brief moment, it was as though your mom was right there with you, her presence lingering in the music.

"And you use your pain 'Cause it makes you you Though I wish I could hold you through it"

The last line caused your voice to waver, the emotion swelling in your chest. You wished, more than anything, that your mom were here with you now—holding you through the grief that had been building for so long. The ache of her absence hit harder than ever, and for a moment, the music felt like the only connection left.

"I know it's not the same You got livin' to do And I just want you to do it

So get up, get out relight that spark You know the rest by heart"

The notes grew stronger as you reached the chorus, your fingers pressing the keys with growing intensity. A sense of pride swelled within you for your mother’s songwriting talent, and with it came a surge of confidence. As the music enveloped you, it felt like a reclamation of something you had lost, a reminder of your own strength through the melody she had left behind.

"Wake up, wake up if it's all you do Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost It's what you'll gain Raising your voice to the rain"

"Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost Relight that spark Time to come out of the dark Wake up Wake up"

The sun began to rise over the treetops as you reached the bridge, its golden light spilling over the landscape. Unbeknownst to you, your father stood on the porch, bathed in that same light. His eyes sparkled with quiet joy, a soft smile on his lips as he listened to your voice carry through the air. In that moment, he knew: his daughter was back. The music had returned, and with it, the hope he had thought was lost.

"So wake that spirit spirit I wanna hear it hear it No need to fear it you're not alone You're gonna find your way home"

The final lyric soared into a high note, your own subtle twist on the song. With each note that filled the small studio, you felt your passion for playing reignite. The music flowed through you, every chord more powerful than the last. You finished with a dramatic low note, the sound lingering in the air. Your eyes remained fixed on the sheet music, drawn to the note at the bottom. You read it over and over, as if trying to unlock a secret it held just for you.

You did it. You woke up.

You woke up and rediscovered your love for music. You woke up from the long, paralyzing nightmare of your mother's death and escaped the grief that was holding you back. You woke up and found yourself, realizing who you were:

You were Rose's daughter, the child of a musical genius, and you were not going to let her legacy pass on with her.

You breathed in deeply, joyful tears filling your eyes as your heart pumped with a newfound courage.

In that moment, although you were not aware of it, four pairs of eyes shimmered...

[1n-bl0om]

obscure tbp hcs

just some thoughts tbh (hints of brance and finbin)

goes between modern day and the 70s

- griffin would definitely send death threats to people online at the most minor inconveniences. nobody expects the innocent ones

- billy knows how to play the hermonica

- vance would be one of those toxic gamers. the ones that just yell and scream and blow air into the mic

- bruce the type of mf to actually slip on a banana peel

- robin goes around school and does those interviews with a tiny mic

- billy and vance would do the “devious lick” trend that happened early last year. mfs would steal the whole bathroom sink

- the guys try to recreate the breakfast club table scene and the table ends up collapsing

- one time griffin jumped in a pool and immediately started drowning

- finney is extremely good at solitaire

- bruce has held a boombox outside of vance’s window after a fight. vance closed his blinds after seeing him

- griffin would run a stan acc on twt. no further comment.

- robin has doodled “F + R” in his notebook

- when gwen and finney go shopping, finney is the designated bag holder

- bruce owns one of those crusty white dogs with a human name

- gwen has definitely been chased by geese at a park

- the guys have made one of those “cooking in the cafeteria” videos but caught something on fire

- billy spams the gc with tik toks that no one ever watches

- vance and robin are the number one instigators. they will hear people arguing and go, “you gonna let them talk to you like that?”

- finny watches interstellar every week

- robin has accidentally grated his hand while grating cheese

- griffin doing something feral and vance going “what if i told you griffin got that dawg in him?”

- finney follows those niche fire alarm accs that post rare fire alarms

- bruce has five pairs of the same shirt and gets clowned for it. the guys call him a cartoon character

- billy sleeps with like 10+ stuffed animals

- vance's mom has a doll collection and it freaks everyone out

- gwen goes around and takes those .5 photos of everyone

- vance and robin working at a local fast food place together and just hiding in the back whenever a customer comes through the drive thru

- billy yelling “stroke that thang cuzzo” when bruce goes to hit at a game

- robin scares finney at any chance he has

- one time griffin ate five corn dogs before going on a rollercoaster, it did not end well

- vance definitely go to house shows. those diy shows in peoples basements, backyards, garages, etc. whatever, you name it. sometimes robin joins and he takes bruce one time

- griffin has a pet goldfish that somehow doubled in size

- gwen has a collection of half burned, unscented candles. they are all carious colors and her dresser has wax embedded into it

- bruce watches golden girls. period

- gwen and finney sometimes have a “sleep over.” which just consists of finney sleeping in gwens floor and her forcing him to play dolls and do prank calls

!! bonus !!

left image: left - everyone else, right - griffin

right image: finbin with e/o & brance with e/o

me posting about the black phone?!? woah!! unheard of

[elekinetic]

Ten minutes. Mike has been staring at this damn piece of paper for ten minutes.

He’s all nerves. Fiddling with a pencil in his right hand and drumming his fingers with his left, shaking his leg up and down and up and down under the desk—all in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat. Buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum. He’s moving, moving, moving, but his eyes are locked on this stupid spiral notebook. It’s taunting him, really. Evenly spaced college-ruled lines in light blue, bracketed by faint red. It’s just there, still and solid and sure, and Mike feels like he’s being pulled in against his will, like he’s getting closer and closer but he’s not moving, and the notebook isn’t moving, and it isn’t saying anything because it’s a notebook, but it’s fucking mocking him and—

This is normal.

Mike’s a writer, okay? Or, well, he wants to be. But he knows that it’s like, a thing for writers to be intimated by a blank page. Something about infinite possibilities. If you don’t write anything down, it can still be perfect. Still be something actually good, and not whatever first-draft bullshit you’re gonna scribble down. Putting lead to paper is a promise to fuck up, to unavoidably make bad choices and create something that will need to be fixed. Writing it means you can’t live in theory anymore, that you’re gonna look the crippling fear of fucking up in the eye and say, “Sure, why not?”

It feels wrong to do this in his math notebook. It feels big, so much bigger than linear equations and absolute values. His notes from this morning’s class peek through from the other side of the sheet. Mike can see the ghosts of the cubes he doodled in the margins. He’s been really into that lately, trying to draw 3D shapes. There’s a couple sticky notes covered in them right by his pencil cup, which is really just a tin mug he swiped from the 1970s camping kit collecting dust in the back of the garage.

Maybe it’s just because he’s quiet, but all Mike hears is noise. He can the faint shrill of the pipes in his wall—someone showering. The wind picking up and battering against the loose storm drain along the wall outside. The muffled hum of the TV downstairs turned all the way up because his dad is either deaf or obnoxious, or both.

The clouds must part, because a beam of afternoon sunlight suddenly glints off the pencil cup straight into Mike’s eye, pulling him out of his trance. His eyes narrow as he winces and pushes the cup away from the window.

Maybe he should do it on a new page. Scratch that—he should definitely do it on a new page. Mike flips the notebook over and smooths the paper. Might as well just rip it out too.

When he crumples the paper teeth into a ball and tosses toward his trash can, he misses. It falls soundlessly to the carpet, right next to the pair of flannel pants and Judas Priest t-shirt he’d shucked off this morning. Should’ve just worn it to school, he thinks, looking down at his green flannel and pointedly ignoring the fact he’d already worn the crumpled tee all of Sunday and Monday. Maybe if he’d just put on extra deodorant he could’ve—

He's procrastinating.

It’s simple, really. Just. Write the words. That’s it. Just fucking write it down. It’s not that hard, you just take the pencil and then put it down and then make the words and then boom, it’s done. So just do it. Do it. Do it. One, two, three...

Ugh.

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna get out of this. Like, what? He writes it down and then suddenly everything is okay? This is all totally normal and there’s nothing wrong with him and every fucked-up thing that comes with this will magically disappear and his life will become daisies and rainbows and shit? Ha, sure.

Mike knows he’s just trying to talk himself out of it because he doesn’t want to do it. But that’s what this whole thing is for, facing fears and “feeling discomfort,” or whatever. Maybe to prove to himself he can think about it without shitting his pants. Fuck, he’s basically an adult. He’s literally fought monsters. He can do this.  

He gets through “I—” before the pencil breaks. Because of course it does.

Mike chuckles dryly and grabs a pen. It’s a blue BIC. He thinks there’s something kind of poetic to it being ink. Maybe it’s a metaphor.

He can’t even say it.

What was it Will said once? Something about a band-aid? Maybe it’s not a good idea to think about Will right now. Or maybe it is.

Fuck, okay. He’s doing it.

Three words. Three words. Okay.

[theblueskyphoenix]

Back at it again with my Back to the Future crossover with Don't Starve. Though decided to change quite a few things. Mainly in that now Webber is taking on the role of Marty. (And some other stuff but I'll get into that another time.)

Webber in this AU was adopted by Wilson when he was a very young boy. He was rescued by William Carter and was shortly after brought to Wilson to be looked at. Wilson took a shine to the young lad and took him in. With help from the Carter family in raising Webber, he's become a fine young man. (Main contribution with the Carters was providing a roof over Webber's head since Wilson's house isn't what he would deem safe for a child to live in... On top of that Wilson's house isn't even a house. It's a garage.)

Webber is very adventurous and can have a bit of an attitude sometimes. Mainly in that he won't stand for any kind of bullying and has gotten into a few scuffles at school for standing up for classmates. He also has a hard time backing down, especially when accusations of being a coward get thrown at him. His temper aside, Webber has a good heart and tries his best to do the right thing. He's also gifted in music and can play the guitar very well. Should also be noted thanks to living with the Carters, he met his girlfriend, Wendy, William's niece, who he is very much in love with.

Wilson is the local scientist. Rather... eccentric at times but well meaning. Just curious about the world around him and wanting to understand it. Many around Hamlet Valley consider him nuts and generally not a good influence but mostly harmless. Wilson really wants to make something great one day... and well, soon enough, he does with his invention of the Flux Capacitor.

That will be it for now on details. Really happy with how both boys look. Was fun making an older looking Wilson. Debated on him having full on silver hair but decided to go with grayish with streaks in it. (He's about in his 60's since during 1955 he's in his 30's.) Then during the latter films, he's back to looking in his 30's after a trip to a rejuvenation clinic. (Unlike Doc Brown it actually did make him look different. Caught Webber completely off guard when he saw him.)

Webber was fun to make into a teenager. Especially with a human design to work with these days. (Sure can't see his face but knowing what his hair looks like is enough for me to work with.) He's got so many fun curls to play with hair wise and it's definitely him slightly emulating Wilson. And he really rocks the Mary Mc'Fly look.

And that'll be it. XD Expect random doodles here and there when the mood hits.

[garageinc]

Folks look what i've found in my notebook from 7th grade

[irlnumbuh3]

middle school sector v headcanons :P

- kuki forces everyone to go to every single school event :’) the dances, the field trips, everything.

- do they act annoyed? maybe. but do they end up having the most fun? maybe they have the best time

- hoagie likes to vlog for some reason LMFAOO he finds an old video camera in his garage and takes it everywhere with him

- they can be in class or at lunch or in the middle of exams, and he’ll take it out and zoom in on everyone

- he sneaks up on them and scares them for a reaction. one time wally knocked the camera out of his hands bc he was so scared and embarrassed LOOL

- it broke :( and he was sad even though he was able to save all the content on it

- so the group saved up some money to surprise him with a new and more modern one

(wally stole lunch money. abby and nigel would make dnd bets and win. kuki went around selling jewelry)

- he was the happiest boy ever :D

- abby still helps wally with his homework :)

- on the days she can’t, someone else will help and take her place. the group rotates

- kuki always forgets her locker combination or forgets which way to rotate it, causing the others to remember it and help her unlock it almost everyday😭<3

- even wally scribbled it down on his notebook to remember so when he gets the chance to, he can help her

- speaking of lockers, kuki will sneak notes or doodles into everyone’s lockers through the little gaps

- hoagie joins in and will try to sneak funny sticky notes into her locker with obscure drawings and jokes

- kuki knows about his crush on abby and convinces him to do something…

- he starts sneaking notes into abby’s locker

- they’re cheesy all of the time. and they’re anonymous because he’s still a wimp

- does this flatter abby? maybe. she looks forward to them every day even though they’re anonymous

- she doesn’t even tell the group about the little notes left for her because maybe they make her blush and maybe she wants to keep that to herself

- but kuki knows the truth fr

- nigel is student council president don’t even fight w me on this one

- they all help him prepare because he’s so picky about these things

- they all even make little posters to put around school “vote 4 nigel!”

- because he’s president, the group all gets an inside scoop in school events/rules

- he acts annoyed because he’s supposed to be “responsible” and the group shouldn’t even know about certain things

- but he still tells them because at the end of the day, he gets excited about it. he likes hearing wally try to argue that as president, he should ban homework weekly LOL

- kuki is a theatre girl. always auditioning for every shop, concert, and event

- hoagie will join her time to time. they do shows together :)

- nigel and abby are stage crew/tech for the show

- they pressure wally into doing it with them a few times. he thinks it’s stupid

- well he thinks it’s stupid until he gets to watch kuki perform from the sidelines

- he misses his cues bc of this LMFAOO

- he also thinks the all black apparel in stage crew is badass 😭😭

- yeah this kind of pushes him into his grunge phase in highschool

- he’ll steal props and things backstage because he thinks it’s funny

- nigel catches him and is like wtf i’m president put that back

- he doesn’t. abby just laughs

- she’ll even join wally in the antics just to annoy nigel

- one time in the middle of a scene, u can hear all of them running around and yelling backstage

- that might have been the end of their stage crew era LMAO

[scribesofcalamity]

Our boys have finally confessed to eachother, after learning of a 30 year old prophecy where they were dubbed the wounded lovers 🥺 We made it soft and I had to create a doodle of the aftermath.

Small written collaboration piece from myself and Derrick’s player below the cut 💖

Derrick winced as the entrails fell from Briars body, calling an end to the whole spooky business in the Hecata's basement. He glanced at Seth, and was surprised to see his partners brow scrunched as he bored a hole into the floor with his icy stare. The whole mumbo jumbo prophecy must have spooked him a bit, although Derrick wasn't so sure that Seth took much stock in those types of things. He certainly didn't.

Before Derrick could make a joke to try and lighten the mood, the older Brujah had already made a break for the door. The rest of the night, Derrick could hardly start a sentence before Seth was away, first to feed, then back into the creepy hotel and all around. Derrick frowned as he watched Seth banter with the others. He looked calm, but there was something off…and he was definitely avoiding him. When had he last acted like this? Derrick mused in silence as he and Angie sat in the car, watching the silhouettes of their friends inside. It was certainly an unusual behavior for him. Derrick landed on an answer to his question- it had been two years ago, when Seth had returned from a job that was helping to fund school supplies for the community kids. Carol had dared Derrick to give Seth a kiss on the forehead when he walked in, proclaiming him their hero, to welcome him back. Derrick had taken the dare and done just that. Seth had frozen on the spot for a solid minute before silently taking some documents and money out of his bag, handing them over, and immediately walking back out the door. He spent the next three days avoiding Derrick entirely, going so far as to leave out his window at one point when Derrick had burst into the apartment in a surprise attack. After that…everything went back to normal. He had never quite figured out why Seth had gotten so angry about the joke. “What the hell is his problem?” Derrick mumbled as he rubbed his chin in thought. Well, the night had to wind down at some point. He'd corner Seth then.

Seth rubbed the back of his neck in exasperation as he watched Angie and Tommy out on the water. Vee looked up at him, eyes full of curiosity and what seemed to be a hint of mirth after his and Tommy's argument on the stairwell. “Who could blame me?” Seth thought.” There's all sorts of monsters in the fucking swamp. How was I supposed to know they wanted to recreate the scene from the little mermaid after 3 days of knowing eahother?” He nodded back to the building and began walking in with the young man. Vee stopped halfway, giving an interested look at the sniper rifle slung over Seth's shoulder. “Think you could teach me how to use it?” Seth half smiled,partly genuine at Vee's interest, and partly because the longer they were out here, the better. He helped Vee hold the gun up,gently adjusting his stance and pointing out the scope, magazine and safety. Vee looked unwieldy and unprepared holding the large weapon, and Seth was reminded of when he had first been taught to hold a gun, looking much the same. He chuckled as he took it back. Vee was quiet before he asked why they were helping him. Seth answered truthfully. He hoped they could help Vee. Give him another chance. Make him survive. In the silence that followed, Seth awkwardly reached out and ruffled Vee's hair. He wasn't terribly good at comforting people, but he wanted to try. Vee scoffed. “Thanks, I guess?”

As they opened the door to the station, Angie and Tommy zoomed by on the motorbike. Seth watched them speed away with a slight pang of jealousy. Tommy was certainly a braver man than he was. Vee headed towards the kitchen area and Seth turned to the garage, mentally making a list of things to prepare…he should clean the guns and count how many incendiary rounds he had left…

“Seth.” He flinched, Derrick's voice breaking into his inner monologue. He had been a bit too focused, and the brunette had walked right up behind him. Seth turned slowly. Derrick wore an irritated expression. “Are you avoiding me?”

Seth quickly averted his gaze,admiring the basic concrete of the wall in great detail.”Not really.”

“Not. Really?” He could feel Derrick glaring at him. He'd never been good with lying to him.

"It's just...been busy of course.” Seth quipped as he tried to side step around Derrick. That plan was quickly thwarted as Derrick stepped in front of him,shutting the door and blocking his escape route. “We’re always busy. Did I do something? You know you can always talk to me, Seth..”

Panic settled into Seth's chest as he looked at Derrick's hurt expression. "No,you didn't do anything…” He took a pause. Maybe this was a good time to try and steer Derrick out of here…”I

…was actually just thinking maybe it would be good for you to take Vee and head back to New York with...all the strange stuff happening around here…”

Derrick's voice was sharp as he cut Seth off.

“Excuse me? That’s not happening. What are you even on about? Where is this coming from?”

Seth winced internally. Perhaps not. His head felt all over the place tonight. He wasn't good at convincing people without force.

"Well you know...with the Cam and that wierd prophecy and all the monsters in the swamp...maybe it would be good to remove some pieces...and you're certainly better with people than I am.”

“Remove pieces, yeah okay.” Seth could tell Derrick was getting riled up, his hand motions becoming a tad aggressive as he spoke. “You really believe this mumbo jumbo prophecy? We have been through literal shit together and now you’re going to tell me to leave?” His fists curled as he closed the distance between them. “I fucking can’t believe you. Do you think I’d just leave you here on your own?” Amid the anger, Derrick suddenly paused, before looking Seth straight in the eye. “Am I in your way?”

Conflict raged in Seth's head. How could he make Derrick understand? He took a step back, trying to clear his argument in his head.

"No, that's not it...You're not in the way. You never have been. I just...I don't think we should ignore something so potentially serious, that's been around since before we ever met, when all this other wierd shit has happened and now we're all here…”

“Leaving kind of sounds like ignoring it.” Derrick stepped forward to close the gap Seth had just created. “I thought we were in this together. Why has that changed now?”

Fuck. This wasn’t working. Seth began almost rambling, looking anywhere but Derrick's angry gaze. "I...we are...but in this case...I mean, Vee is called the sacrificial sheep for fucks sake! I think the kid has been through enough... and it seems we would uhhh....share a fate too, including one where our eyes get gouged out...you have alot of responsibility back at home and we can't possibly have something like that happen to you, and I'm sure it might be a nice thing for Vee to just get a fresh start. A-and, it seems it's not even Peele that's here, maybe just a copycat, so....” he trailed off. This was the farthest thing from convincing. Seth felt fear wrap its way around his throat.

Derrick practically spit his next words, rage simmering below the surface. Seth considered sticking with it. If he let Derrick knock him out, they couldn't argue anymore.

“I can’t even believe the words coming out of your mouth right now. Let’s say these prophecies were fated, what’s leaving with Vee going to change? For Christ’s sake the guy is safer with us as a group than for me to run off with him and take him to New York!”

Derrick's voice was strained. “Maybe it is a copycat here.Even so, I’d never leave you alone to deal with all of this.” he gestured at the air, at everything as a whole. “You’re not impractical. There’s something else isn’t there? You can’t even look at me, Seth. What is it you’re leaving out?”

Seth dug his nails into his palm, releasing a thin trickle of vitae as he considered his options. This night had been utter turmoil for him. Hearing the different versions of the prophecy of cranes, he had felt dizzy. When the spirit identified him and Derrick as the “wounded lovers”, Seth had felt like a glass cage he hadn't even known was there had shattered directly on his head. This entire time? Kindred in this strange little town had seen them before they even knew of the other's existence.

Maybe Tommy was onto something though.Although he had never planned to say anything…even if he lost Derrick forever this way…it would be better than something forced upon him. Perhaps it would make him listen.

Seth decided to let go.

"Derrick...listen...I'm worried because these prophecies are calling us the wounded lovers. I...I know we're not lovers,nor do we have any kind of of relationship like that. You could say the prophecy is fake based on that alone, even without knowing what the other few visions showed. "

He stopped one more time, ruminating in the silence. If he spoke it now, there was no turning back. Derrick shifted slightly,crossing his arms as he waited for Seth to speak. Seth smiled at the memory of the previous day, their eyes meeting in the reflections of the sunlight bouncing off the water pools in the bunker. At the very least, he could cherish that memory. He looked up and met Derrick's eyes.

"Derrick,I'm taking this so seriously... because I love you. I've been in love with you for a long time now.” He let the words hang for just a moment.

“I really considered if my feelings were perhaps caused by this prophecy but..." Seth slowly clutched his hand into his jacket over his heart. He had let the thought cross his mind for a only a moment, but he knew that wasn't true. It had been a gradual fall. He hadnt even trusted Derrick at first, but three years ago, he had realized it was much deeper than simple friendship and affection. No future vision, no matter how sinister, could have created those feelings. "I know that's not it.” Seth struggled to speak his conclusion. “Which means that it would be because of me falling in love with you that you could get dragged into some crazy mess that you didn't ask for, perhaps have your mind manipulated into having feelings for me or something else. If you got hurt,mentally or physically, because I couldn't keep my emotions In check for my best friend and work partner, I could never forgive myself. "

Derrick was silent as he simply stared back at Seth. Well, that was that. Seth let his gaze drop, his arm releasing his jacket, exhaustion and defeat flowing into his body. This place was the worst. "I'm sorry. I know that is alot to drop on you out of the blue. I just want you to be safe....” The ground had never looked so interesting. Derrick was still silent as Seth moved around him and opened the door. “I don't need an answer. I can’t make you do anything, so if you plan to stay, we need to focus on the battles ahead.” As he stepped over the door frame,he uttered a final sentence. ”I understand if you don't want me to come back to New York when this is all over. “

Derrick's eyes widened before softening. He almost let Seth walk out of the door before his new found brain fog broke for a moment and he whirled, catching the door and causing Seth to turn back towards him, his blue eyes wary.

“Seth, don’t go.” He felt as if he let Seth go, he would never get his thoughts out. “This whole time? You’ve been holding this back the entire time?” Derrick's voice wavered.

“I can’t- I won’t even entertain the thought of some prophecies controlling my emotions. Or yours. I’m well aware how dangerous this will be. I won’t lie and say this isn’t some of the scariest shit I’ve seen in my life.” Seth had fully turned around now, caution holding his cold expression, but Derrick could see a small spark of hope in his eyes. He continued speaking, letting the words spill out.

“ Yet I find comfort in facing it with you… and you’re delusional if you think I’d abandon you here to deal with it on your own. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” He stopped suddenly, before his next words fell out of his mouth.

Memories filled his mind of pestering Seth in his apartment when he first moved into the slums of New York. At first Derrick wanted to know who this stranger was and keep a close eye on him. After some time however, Derrick had started to crave his company. Maybe it all started there.

“Whatever all of this is, we can figure it out together… and… even if it is fated, it’s a fate I want to share with you Seth…because…I love you too.”

[jezabatlovesbats]

2023: The Year of Milestones

What a crazy year it's been, am I right? I graduated high school, and I'm now a college freshman. We got some new films that were memed a lot and made a lot of cash. The Owl House and Summer Camp Island ended. I got into some new things as well. Unikitty: Big Bright World turned 5 in January 2023, which is why I crappily edited in the milestone doodle I did for it. You can find it here because I made an ask blog for BBW. For anyone who doesn't yet know me, Unikitty and the BBW AU mean a lot to me.

Following that milestone, I realized there were more things I liked that were turning 5, 10, 15, 20, 25 or 30 that year than I thought, and those are very noteworthy digits to me. I wanted to create anniversary drawings for them in celebration. But, because I was procrastinating from them and I also had other stuff going on, I couldn't. 

Instead of individual milestone drawings, I decided to compile all of them into one big tribute. For the same reasons, though, I had to delay it to January of 2024. I was aiming to have it ready to go by about New Years' Eve. But then on Christmas day, me and my brothers were surprised with a trip to California, and we left three days later.

Without further padding out, I'll talk about the things from which the characters are here partying with me, and what those things mean to me. I'll also talk about what the 5 on my hot chocolate mug means, because I'm not 5 years old, and I wasn't born on Leap Day. Here we go! 

We're starting with the oldest thing featured, The Nightmare Before Christmas, which came out in 1993 and hit 30 years. Me and my family went to see it in a theater back in October of 2020, leading to me growing fascinated by it, its characters and its worldbuilding. I LOVE ME SOME COOL AND INTERESTINGLY DEVELOPED WORLDS, OKAY? THE HOLIDAY FOREST IS NO EXCEPTION! I thought of some other towns based on New Years, birthdays and Earth Day. I also thought up some backstory for Lock, Shock and Barrel because they're my favorite characters and I need more of them. Honestly, I felt like I was late to the party. Like, why hadn't I watched it sooner? But let me tell you, you can get invested in something at any time, no matter how dead its fandom is. I think the reason why TNBC stuck with me is because of its spooky-fun atmosphere. I'm not a fan of horror movies; when I go into the garage or go to pee at night, I have this subconscious fear that something's gonna jump out and slash me in two. I sleep with a nightlight on, too. But if it's clear that the spooks are non-threatening (which the Halloween Town citizens made clear in This is Halloween) and there's no graphic violence or gore anywhere, I'm all for it. After all, I enjoy both cute and dark things, and that's how I present myself. Also, I made an entry for TheITinFIT's YTP collab for TNBC in observance of its 30th anniversary, and you can watch it at the link in the replies!

Finding Nemo came out in 2003, so it's hit 20 years. Let me tell you- I was scared of this movie when I was younger. I wouldn't watch it because of the part where Marlin and Dory were sucked up by that whale, or when that pelican swallowed them (not Nigel; he's a good egg). I was also scared of that Octonauts episode where Dashi gets stuck inside a whale shark. I've always had this fear of getting swallowed by a larger being. And this is just my personal opinion, but I'm disgusted by vore. It's not for me, and it's never been. I can handle those scenes now- after all, Dory and Marlin made it out alive both times (and Dashi did, too). Later on, I had a greater appreciation for FN. Like spooky-fun stuff, another favorite, uh, aesthetic of mine is oceans and the sea. I dunno- sea animals are cool, and I've been fascinated with them since I was a kid. I had this phase where I wanted to be a marine biologist. There's just something so relaxing, but simultaneously exciting about Finding Nemo, and for that reason, it's now one of my favorites from Pixar. 

I was listening to the theme song for this show while writing this. Teen Titans also premiered in 2003, and I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I was introduced to it by Teen Titans Go. In 2018, we saw Teen Titans Go To The Movies in theaters, and I followed TTG up until, like, 2021. By that point, it just wasn't enjoyable for me anymore, but I still very much enjoy the classic series. I watched it from start to finish in 2019 and got super into it, especially the HIVE Five. On Wattpad, I created a random story that was basically a blog for the HIVE. I wrote them profiles, let my followers ask them questions, and did incorrect quotes. It's deleted now, though. I was weirdly obsessed with See-More to the point where I made an OC that was his cousin, made OCs based on the other four senses, and shipped him with Scorpion (though they broke up later on). My mom printed the HIVE symbol on a black T-shirt, and it's still in my closet today. Besides them, one of my other favorite characters is Raven. Any character with a purple and black color scheme will catch my eye, but I also found her history and character traits interesting to the point where she influenced one of my favorite OCs I've made. I've got the entire Teen Titans series on DVD, including the Trouble in Tokyo movie. It was one of the first things I could say was one of my fandoms, so it's got a special place in my heart. By the way, I’d LOVE a (good) HIVE Five movie. 

Another thing I absolutely ADORE that came out of 2003 was the Mario & Luigi RPG series. I mean, I've been playing games in the entire Super Mario franchise since I was young. With this series, I'd always be playing Partners in Time, Bowser's Inside Story and Dream Team on my DS, but in both games, I could never get past two parts. For PiT, I couldn't beat the Swiggler, and in BiS, I couldn't get past the Pump Works area inside Bowser. (Like, I couldn't find the Stingler, even though it was actually super easy. You know, the sparky bzzt thing that opens that one door?) Dream Team was the only game my younger self actually completed, and I think that's why it was the game I liked the most. We got Paper Jam when it came out, and though me and my brothers fought over who got to play it for a while, I played it and beat it. I REALLY started getting invested in the M&L series in 2017, when the Superstar Saga remake came out. Now, as I said earlier, big, elaborate worlds with multiple places to explore and lots of characters will have my attention! So, I was hyped to traverse the Beanbean Kingdom. I never played the original Superstar Saga because we never owned any type of Gameboy. But, I got the remake, played it, and beat both SS and Bowser's minions. One thing led to another, and I fell back down the M&L hole. I even wrote a Prince and the Pauper-like story about Prince Peasley and Red, one of my OCs, but it's also deleted now. I had the idea that the series would be a great TV show, leading to me developing an AU in which I write it like one, with my own characters and kingdoms. Some of you may be thinking that if the M&L series appeals to me, then I would enjoy Paper Mario, too. If you are, I think you might be right! 

As I just said, I loved Dream Team the most, and it's still my favorite game in the series. For this occasion, I was planning on writing a post on why Dream Team was, in fact, a CLASSIC, but again- because of personal business and procrastination, I didn't. I forgot all of my points anyway. But I will say this: even with all the long tutorials, the visuals in the game are absolutely GORGEOUS. I love how well-detailed everything is. The colors were so vibrant and dream-like (just like the game title, guys!). And, the music is AWESOME. In fact, it's one of my favorite game soundtracks ever. I want more of the music with lyrics! I already wrote some for three of them! Luigi really got his time to shine, and his and Mario's brotherliness thoughout the game was just SO amazing and sweet. Luigi believes in Mario so much, and he's willing to fight alongside him, and they're unstoppable together! Also, the Pi'illos were and still are an extremely interesting concept to me, to the point where I thought up a whole Elena of Avalor-type character arc for Prince Dreambert. To me, he seems like a prince learning to rule his land in a different time after being stuck in a nightmare chunk for who knows how long. Anyways, Dream Team is amazing. I freakin' love it. Not much more needed to be said. 

Hitting 15 years in 2023 is one of my all-time favorite movies ever, WALL-E! I have loved and appreciated this movie ever sense I was a literal toddler! I made a bunch of little WALL-E stories, so I’ve been writing fanfiction as early as then. I just didn’t know what that was yet. I remember pretending to be EVE and M-O, the latter of whom is my favorite character. I loved it when I was younger, but I didn’t realize just how amazing it was until I started fixating on it again in 2021. When you revisit something, you can notice lots of things you hadn’t seen before and understand why you love it and what makes it so great. Like, I came to better understand WALL-E’s story and themes, and appreciate how gorgeous it is. I watched Hello, Dolly because of WALL-E, and the parallels I noticed blew my little mind. Those old stories I wrote when I was 5 influenced that WALL-E human AU I made. I think I might bring back my gijinkas and create ones for other things with non-human characters because I miss them. I think the reason why this movie appeals to me is because WALL-E himself is fun and perky and curious (and music-loving) in a similar way to myself. And, I’m a firm believer that there’s more to life than my job. I think that because of WALL-E, I enjoy sci-fi stories and worlds just as much as fantasy stories and worlds. I’m also a sucker for stories that combine sci-fi with fantasy. I still love and appreciate WALL-E so, so, SOOO much, and it’s such a huge part of my life. Autistic WALL-E is real to me. 

A movie that came out the same year as WALL-E that I also still love a lot is Ponyo. It came out in the US a year later, but I’m still including it here. Ponyo was my introduction to Studio Ghibli, and I watched it as often as I did WALL-E back in the day. Me and my brother LOVED this movie and would watch it while in in the car a lot of the time. I remember that my brother even started pretending to be a character called “Sonyo.” I think he also started liking ham. I already said how much I love oceans and fantasies! I don’t really watch a lot of anime or movies from Japan, so this was actually my first time drawing Sosuke and Ponyo. I think they came out pretty great. If it hadn’t been for this movie, though, I don’t think I would have wanted to check out Ghibli’s other films. I did watch Doraemon, Yokai Watch and some Pokémon XY Kalos Quest, so I think I still may have wanted to see other anime shows like Eizouken (which I watched all 12 episodes of). But, I’ve got Ponyo to thank for introducing me to Japanese animation as a whole, and in 2021, I watched all of Ghibli’s other movies (except for Grave of the Fireflies). I think I’ll rewatch Spirited Away and Arrietty sometime later on. I really want to see The Boy and the Heron.

There’s a good number of 10s here, by which I mean these things all came out in 2013. The earliest of these is Steven Universe, which came out in May of that year. I got into Unikitty when the last few episodes of SU were being hyped up. I remember watching a clip for Tragic Magic before YouTube slapped the For Kids thing on it, and most the comments were like, “Give us Legs From Here to Homeworld!” So later on in, like, 2019, I got curious and started watching the show from late Season 3 onwards. My first episode was Earthlings. Then, I watched the whole show from start to finish when CN did the Every Steven Ever thing before the movie came out. I watched the movie past my bedtime ‘cause it premiered on a school night. I made myself a gemsona, my brother started watching the movie and getting interested, and I watched the whole series with him including Future. Even with its flaws, and despite what people say about it, it was an enjoyable watch for us! It’s not the best thing ever because nothing is, but I’m on the side of defending it. Even with its flaws and all the shade it got thrown at it, it paved the way for lots of great things and helped so many people feel understood. This show is legendary in more ways than one, and it still has my respect. 

I’ve been interested in Ever After High since it first launched in 2013. I never had any of the dolls, but I think I watched a few episodes of the series. I remember reading Shannon Hale’s books and owning some of the other toys (like a lockable diary). I was interested in Monster High as well (creepy/fun and cute style! Right up my alley!), but I mostly leaned towards Ever After High. I’d also search the web and look up information about the characters. Raven’s included here because, once again, purple and black color scheme! Yay! But it’s mainly because I remember wanting to be like her. I wanted to be a rebel, and I began calling myself one. Back then, I interpreted her as being so defiant of her prewritten destiny that she believed following it was dumb. But I’ve grown since then, and I came to realize that she isn’t like that. Far from that image, in fact. It’s such a HUGE shame what happened to EAH, but I’m glad there are still people out there who show interest in it. I currently follow someone who’s got lots of ideas for a reboot! Sign me up!

I loved lots of other games in the Super Mario franchise, like Mario Party 9 and New Super Mario Bros. for the DS. My great enjoyment of Super Mario 3D World pretty much goes hand-in-hand with Ever After High. Why, you may ask? Because of the weird crossovers I wrote. Let me explain! Hear me out! I was a well-known enthusiast for the game’s Sprixies. You know, those little fairy creatures? I even had names for the Sprixie princesses based on their colors: Greenia, Yellowlina, Bluia, Orangia, Violet, Aquamarina and Redna. (Get it? Edna, but red?) These days, I still call the purple one Violet, but I gave the rest of them other nicknames. Also, back then, I had the red one be the queen of the Sprixies even though the green one is implied to be the face of the seven. Back to the ridiculous EAH crossovers. I made Sprixie sisters for the female characters in the series. The male characters had Toad brothers. It wasn’t just canon characters, either- I also made Sprixie and Toad siblings for people’s OCs I found on the internet. I even typed up a story about the characters and their, quote-unquote, siblings. But yeah- Super Mario 3D world was ridiculously fun, the music was bouncy and catchy, and the graphics are actually really pretty. In the last worlds, whenever we didn’t have enough green stars to advance, I’d organize the Daily Green Star Hunt. Games like this are the reason why I love searching levels for treasures and trinkets as I go along, and I don’t want to advance until all is found. I’m at a point in my life where I completed SM3DW (and also Bowser’s Fury, since we got that edition) to its entirety with everything you could collect in the game. This game stands as one of my top favorites in the Mario franchise as a whole, so much so that I wanted to include it in Mario & Luigi Rewritten.

I love a lot of films from Pixar, but when I was 9, I especially loved Monsters University. The most noteworthy memory I have with it, which is also the most important one to me, is when I had my tonsils removed. By the way, that’s the only time I ever had surgery done on me. After it happened, the next three or so weeks consisted of me eating nothing but ice cream, taking nasty medicine, and messing around with an iPad on this app called Toontastic (if anyone here has heard of it, you’re a legend to me). I also rented MU out on the TV without my parents’ permission and watched it on repeat. I loved to doodle the movie’s background characters and include my doodles of them into my Toontastic cartoons. (Yeah- the app had a thing where you could draw your own characters and backdrops. Also, off-topic, but Toontastic is the reason I know about Deng Xiaoping.) Also, I shipped the frats and sororities with each other. Like, all six of each one. The RORs with the HSSs, the EEKs with the JOXs, the PNKs with Oozma Kappa. Except for Mike, whom I knew was with Celia, and Sulley, who I shipped with… Carla the Killer Claws lady? That wasn’t the best idea. Johnny x Rosie is a ship I still remember quite fondly. Like I said with WALL-E, the older you get, the more you notice why you love a film so much and what makes it good. I really appreciate MU’s message about how it’s okay to fail. And yes, it is! Because if failure wasn’t an option, you wouldn’t know how to pick yourself back up on your feet when things go wrong. Even if you don’t achieve the dreams you hope for, that doesn’t mean you’re done for and there aren’t other doors you can go through. You still matter. My brother and I made a bunch of jokes about MU when I started college. Of course, it’s not what college is actually like, but I still love it and the original Monsters Inc. If I ever see Steve Buscemi, Billy Crystal or any of the other people from this movie in real life, I’m telling them about me watching it while recovering from surgery.

I’ve always gravitated towards the Mario franchise more than the Sonic franchise. And while I have played Mario and Sonic at London 2012, I didn’t like to play anything solely Sonic except for Sonic Lost World. I know, I know- it wasn’t well-received, but that doesn’t make me any less of someone who enjoys Sonic. Back then, I loved watching cutscenes and walkthroughs of the game, and I was particularly fascinated by the Deadly Six. I can only remember looking up pictures of them and reading fics about them. But, that led me to come back to my affinity for them in 2020. I became interested in fleshing out their characters more and imagining what their pasts were like. I do that a lot when I hear people say a thing is half-baked or cookie-cutter of mediocre/bad. I also created my own Zeti characters as well. I played other Sonic games like Colors and Forces, I saw the movies, and I thought up my Mobian characters. Also, I watched Snapcube’s SA2 fandub. I was there to witness Eggman go on the moon. I’d love to branch out to more Sonic stuff, so if anyone would like to recommend me some, please do! I’m all ears! If you’ve seen Take Me To Snurch (Snail Church), a version of that with the Zeti is stuck in my head now. 🎶 Take me to zurch. I’ll worship like a Zeti at the zhrine of your zife… 

Oof… I’m just gonna say that Frozen fever was inescapable back in the day to tons of kids, including me. When I was a kid, I was a huge copycat. I’d be into things because my friends were into them, and I’d plagiarize other people’s stuff almost all of the time. So, I don’t really remember if I was genuinely interested in Frozen. But apparently, I was enough to have my 9th birthday party be themed around it. Also, I remember that shortly afterwards, I had a sleepover with my friends from dance class, and we watched the movie together (not all of it). Right before we went to bed, we were all singing Let it Go as loud as we could. Frozen’s impacted my young life enough for me to take inspiration from it for Broken and Frozen. But, I agree when people say we need to warm up.

Lastly, there’s my milestone, which just so happens to be Christmas. On Christmas of 2018, I got a new computer, and my parents told me they’d set up the Wattpad account I’ve wanted since before I turned 13. I was first introduced to Wattpad after watching a video about fanfiction and reading the MC:SM Rewritten series (even though it’s now inactive). I talked about the weird little things I liked in real life, but while people listened, I never felt like they really knew what I was talking about. I started uploading my random thoughts, characters and stories to Wattpad, and I started making friends with people who were interested in the same things as me. When I did that, I really felt understood. The same happened when I joined DeviantArt in 2019, and for a while, it was just those two. Later on, in 2021, I hopped on Tumblr, YouTube and AO3. Then came Discord, and most recently, Amino. I was and still am fiercely loyal to my creations and my pals online. Through my high points and my mess-ups, I’ll want to connect with my closest friends and mutuals whenever I can. I’ve found enjoyment in lots of things, and I’ve come so far in terms of developing my artistic skills. When online, I found it easier to connect with people because I could more easily seek out people I had things in common with. What’s especially important to me is that connecting in this way is how I met one of my best friends ever, and while on my trip, I got to see them in real life. I hope it happens again someday. It’s not good to be chronically online, of course. But, being here has helped me discover myself and find peace within this world in ways you can’t even imagine. To everyone I’ve ever interacted with, thank you for five wonderful years! 

Wow! This sure was a lot. To everyone I’ve ever befriended and followed over these things and others, and to everyone who followed me, I can’t thank you enough for being here! You guys are the reason I keep logging in almost every day and why I’m still on my feet. Especially you, Hino! Thank you so, so, SO much! 

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!! 🎆💜🖤🦇

[scoliosisgoblin]

Would your version of YB meets your version of Rick and Morty? If yes what’s the reason they meet? You don’t have to draw it I just love reading your answered asks :)

I have two versions of it, both involving my oc Jay, so I'm gonna go off of that — and the more fleshed out version (sorry if it sounds rushed, I didn't wanna make a super long post about it..)

to sum up Jay's Rick and Morty au: Jay's Rick's son, younger brother to Beth. Rick left a few years after Diane disappeared. so Jay (10) and Beth (15) move in with Rick's parents, Beth (now 18) leaving a year after having Summer and leaving high school. blah blah, Jay went to college, got married, transitioned (ftm), spouse died, he moved to Seattle. he lost touch with Beth completely after his spouse's death though, didn't know they lived in the same place.)

Jay and Peter meet and start dating, they move in together in the woods. similar to how the game goes, but it takes over the span of a few (maybe 6) months. (also, Peter isn't forceful like the game, he's more understanding of Jay wanting to take time, since he's in mourning.)

they go on adventures, Jay experiments in the garage, they'd paint together outside and so forth. (made doodles for it. will post it in another post.)

Jay, being a genius scientist like his father, constantly gets called by the president (Andre Curtis). he'd bring Peter along sometimes.

since Rick moved in with Beth, and started being called in with Morty to help Curtis out with his shit. so, Curtis would shuffle between calling in either group, mainly calling both of them in and ignoring the one who doesn't answer first.

season 3 episode 10 — the episode they meet. basically, Rick and Morty were called in, fucked off, Curtis called in Jay and Peter, and they meet each other when Curtis is bragging about them being better partners.

Peter thought Rick looked cool at first, dropped that thought the second Jay acknowledged him as his father — now seeing him as an enemy.

bonus: Rick bumping into Jay and Peter at a bar

Peter hates him less but wants him dead