#gen is dead

[reasonsforhope]

Sometimes you just have one of those moments where the progress we've made as a culture get thrown into stark relief. You look at something and go "Holy shit, that would never have happened when I was a kid."

Today, I had one of those moments when I realized that the teenage boys I'm working with are just. genuinely, openly enthusiastic about going to Build-a-Bear for their outing.

These are sixteen and seventeen year old boys! They just had a whole conversation about what to name their "cute", mostly new squishmallows! They're genuinely excited that they're going to Build-a-Bear this weekend and asking other kids to pick up specific accessories for them!!

Holy shit, that never would've happened when I was 16. None of the boys would have dared to be visibly interested - and neither would most of the girls! There would have been a million gay jokes and "Haha, you're a girl" jokes and "What are you, a baby?" jokes. Teenagers weren't even supposed to care about anything back then!

Less than 15 years later, and I'm watching three 17 year old boys treat all that as not even worthy of comment.

So let's call that a reason for hope. Even when the kids aren't alright, in some ways apparently they are alright. Go Gen Z, honestly. It's so lovely to watch you guys just openly doing and saying stuff that, when I was a teen, would've been a social death sentence.

[0xycod0ne]

neil josten,, my muse,, my favourite blood soaked pathetic cat

[vaperarmand]

started imagining rpf discourse in the rockstar lestat universe (part 1)

[barblaz-arts]

Barblaz's Wenclair AU's masterpost

*NOTE: This is sorted by order of chronological events. If you want to see them by date posted, make sure you're in my blog before clicking on the name of the AU in the tags if ur on mobile. If ur on desktop, click on my blog's name first then click on the tag for the AU. Have fun backreading mwah!

Inuyasha AU - AU based on the anime Inusyasha. For the youngsters unfamiliar with it, it's an old anime about a modern Japanese teenager named Kagome who gets magicked to a feudal Japan that is terrorized by demons. She accidentally awakens a half-demon named Inuyasha(literally means demon dog) who was sealed frozen in time by Kagome's ancestor and Inuyasha's first love, Kikyo

Wednesday meets the half-demon Enid

Familiar faces

Kitty the Manticore

Pokemon AU - name speaks for itself i think.

Hex Maniac Wednesday and Cute Trainer Enid want to battle!(over a Mimikyu?)

Cover art

Getting to know Wednesday and Enid's Pokemons

List of Gym Leaders, Elite Four and the Champions

The Balcony Talk: Pokemon AU Edition

The boys awakening some "green-eyed monsters"

Challenging Champions Morticia and Gomez Addams(warning: it's still a WIP)

When you're part of their team...

Fanart by @enidtendo64

"Wenclair in my moot's styles" drawing meme by @kris-6758

Fanfics inspired by this AU by IntrusiveCreativity on AO3

Next Gen Nevermore AU - Wednesday and Enid as wives with a daughter named Vega

Meet Vega Addams

She has (both) her mothers' eyes

Mothers and daughter

Enid the wildlife rescuer

Baby's first wolf out

Vega's love for the extraterrestrial

Domestic Addamses

Full Moon nights are Family Nights

Finding the right 'do

The Heroes of Nevermore

Height Difference

Enrollment

SkyWolf

SkyWolf Meet Cute

Meet Sora Toriyama

Clowning each other like an old married couple

Principal Barclay

Clingy wolf

Family Day

Meeting Mrs. and Mrs. Addams

Full Moon Nights are Family Nights(ft. Sora)

Vega's favorite place: Sora's shoulder

Vega's Uncle Pugsley and his diverse children

Vega's Uncle Pubert, bane of her existence

Pubert fucks around and finds out

Happy Halloween

Regine Ottinger

Voices for Vega, Sora, Regine, and Pubert(ask)

The Mystery Missfits

Get to know Vega's cousins

Sora and Regine's parents

Bonus Vega fanfics by other authors:

Enid and Wednesday have a very important conversation with their daughter (by @eggplant-crusader)

Sora visits the Addamses (by TheVeryGayLouvio on AO3)

The aftermath of Vega's first wolf out by @whitebeltwriter

Vega and Sora's misadventures by @whitebeltwriter

Meet the Addamses AU - based on the movie Meet the Robinsons. Due a magical mishap, Vega Addams accidentally brings teen Enid Sinclair into the future and desperately tries to hide from Enid that the Addamses are the family she will eventually marry into.

Wednesday's daughter is full of woe(and stressed as FUCKK)

Addamses of the future

Enid Addams

See you later

Witchcraft Baby AU - loosely inspired by Lilo and Stitch. Wednesday is a witch who used Enid's blood to make a homunculus. The consequences are dire as their creation is taboo and Wednesday used the blood of a Sinclair to do it. Wednesday wants everyone to leave her and her creation alone, meanwhile all Enid sees is a chance for family.

A deal is made(fic)

Wednesday backstory(fic)

Vega the Homunculus (art)

Jailbreak (art)

[birrdify]

what if 4 just went so coo coo crazy once that even mr puzzles would catch onto his weird ass behaviour<3

[person4924]

is this anything ?

[starry-bi-sky]

jason and danny childhood friends au memes (mild spoilers)

[marioclash]

you could reblog for a bigger sample size or not who do i look like the freakin queen of england

[genevievefangirl]

Master Post - Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics!

It is finally here! My personal top 100 DBDA fics!

My friends in the DBDA Haunt Discord server know that I am an avid fic reader. I read multiple hours every day and have read a very large chunk of all the DBDA fics out there (that are tagged Payneland). I constantly recommend fics in our fanfic channel and thought, "Well, why don't I make a huge rec list in recognition of how wonderful the fic writers of this fandom are?" And thus the idea for this list was born!

I have been working on this since the cancellation announcement almost 2 months ago. It has taken me that long to go back through my over 350+ DBDA bookmarks and select only the best of the best to be featured here.

Thank you to every fic writer in this fandom! You are all amazing and I love your work! Your creations are what keep the fandom alive and healthy!

Some caveats before we begin:

These fics are in alphabetical order by title.

I have a Payneland bias. All of these are Payneland fics. Maybe I will make a list sometime that has more ship variety, but for now, that is what is on the list.

I also have a very strong hurt/comfort & angst bias, so there will be a lot of that on here as well! But there are a few fluffy fics too!

There is no smut on this list. Sorry, smut just isn't my thing. There is exactly one fic rated E on here.

Not all tags are listed! I have selected the ones that I feel are the most important and in some cases added some that I felt were missing. But please read the full tag list on the fic itself!

I will be releasing 10 fics a day for 10 days, to make the posts more readable and to have some fun!

And now... THE LIST!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11 - WIPs

(and yes I will link a google sheets version once all the parts are out)

[orbitsuns]

[monarch-of-weird-girlboy-nation]

Hazel, who grew up in the 1940s and Jason who had no access to a phone and lived in Camp Jupiter his entire life.

They both do not understand meme culture one bit.

Piper: omg hazel you ate and left not a single crumb.

Hazel: I... I'm not eating anything?

Leo, making tacos: girl dinner, girl dinner

Jason: we're both boys?

Percy: no but i was literally serving in that toga.

Hazel: stop.

[strawberry-eden]

violence solves (most) problems — danny johnson x reader

↪ summary — you're relatively new in the fog, having been here just long enough to get a hold on the working order of this place when you catch the unfortunate eye of the most obsessive man on the planet, who decides that you're going to be his newest plaything.

or, your first encounter with the notorious ghostface killer goes very poorly.

↪ tags — canon typical violence, swearing, crack treated seriously, blood & injury, obsession at first sight, gender neutral pronouns/description for reader, no use of y/n, and danny's weird way of flirting

↪ word count — 2.4k

a/n: i wrote this originally way back in february but i found it again and figured i would share with the class. inspired by a cool piece of art i saw on twitter that ended up spiraling from there. enjoy!

The cold air of Mount Ormond ski resort bites angrily at your bare face, your shallow breaths manifesting in puffs of white fog as you fight to keep giant spidery talons from spearing through your torso. A low, guttural growl sounds from all around you and nowhere all at once, your arms shaking from effort as a particularly hard shove from the entity forces your hooked shoulder to shift, sending a ripple of white-hot agony through your body. “Fuck!”

This is your first match of the day. Not a single generator has been done and none of your teammates have been hooked yet. If anybody is coming for you, you can’t see through the cage the entity’s talons have created around you, itching to close in and take you back the campfire. You’re half tempted to let her do it.

You barely register the second pair of hands that appears and bats her away until they’re gently pulling you down from the hook by your armpits, holding you up until you’re steady on your feet. You blink away a few stray tears to look up at the face of your savior. “No offense, kiddo, but you look like shit,” says Bill.

You almost shrug instinctively but stop yourself last second. “A little bit taken. I feel like shit,” you mutter. He shoots a cautious glance over his shoulder, then takes you by the arm and leads you away from the hook towards a safer spot to patch you up. You can’t help but flit your gaze all around the area, searching for that haunting white mask or floating strips of leather, wondering if you’re being watched from somewhere.

Bill catches your paranoid expression and frowns. “Christ, what’d you do to him?”

Unable to hide your frustration, you round on Bill with an exasperated cry, “I don’t know! He just—” You make a vague gesture. “Set his eyes on me and decided he wanted me dead! I haven’t even touched a gen yet, for fuck’s sake.”

Bill pulls you behind a boulder secluded somewhere in a corner of the resort. You squint at the shape of the killer shack some ways away, trying to get your bearings. Bill whistles lowly. “Maybe he’s just trying to get an easy win, then. Lord knows it’s working. The rest of us are struggling to keep up.”

You collapse into a bloody pile into the snow, leaning against the rock and pressing a hand against your wounded shoulder while he pops open his medkit. “Yeah, well. I’m still pissed about it.”

“Oh, we all are,” he replies. “Nobody likes being down a teammate this early on. You got anything to help you out?”

Your face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

He raises a grayed eyebrow. “You know, like that trick David pulls to endure pain, or how that girl Laurie hides glass in her sleeves. They teach you any of that?”

“Uhh… No?”

Bill curses under his breath. “You’re kidding, right?” He curses again, louder this time when you shake your head. He digs into one of his many pockets, pulling out something that he clutches tightly in his palm, then motions for you to extend your hand. He places something smooth and warm into it, closing your fingers around the object. “Hide it well, okay? If he sees it, it’s game over. And make sure you don’t. Miss. That was my second chance, and I’m giving it up so you a better shot. If you end up fumbling, I’m never gonna let you live it down.”

Bill holds your gaze until you give a slow nod, retracting his hands as he returns to rustling around the supplies in his medkit. When you open up your fingers, you are greeted by your own reflection looking back at you from a small, sharp piece of glass. It’s almost shaped like a knife if you turn it right. “What do I do with it?” You ask curiously.

Bill wheezes out a laugh. “Stab him with it, obviously.” You bite back a painful hiss when he begins stitching your wounds back together, which he apologizes for under his breath. “But don’t just swing it around all willy-nilly, you gotta wait until he isn’t expecting it—like when he’s got you slung over his shoulder like a sack of meat thinking you’re gonna be an easy kill. Then, you take your opportunity to prove him wrong and stab it right into his shoulder. Always shocks ‘em so bad they drop you then and there. Gives 'em a taste of their own medicine, which they don’t like too much, y’know?”

You stare thoughtfully at the shard. If it’s such an effective tactic, then why in the world hasn’t anybody told you about it? You can’t help but feel a bit betrayed.

“Doesn’t always work, though,” he says, pulling the question straight from your mind. “After a while, they start to expect it, which means you gotta change it up. Start playing stealthier, like Zarina or Jake—the guy’s got an iron will. Real impressive. I have no idea he’s even hurt until I realize he’s left a streak of blood halfway across the map.”

This is all too much information to ingest when you feel about five seconds away from dying via blood loss. “Got it,” you mumble breathlessly.

Bill blanks at you. “You didn’t retain a thing I just said.”

"I got all the important parts."

“Sure you did,” he huffs. He starts opening up some gauze, when all of a sudden, his head shoots up and his whole body goes rigid. Bill’s wide eyes find your alarmed ones, and all that he’s able to get out before all hell breaks loose is, “Run.”

There’s an almost imperceptible rustle of clothing that doesn’t reach your ears. You’re frozen in place, barely given enough time to register the command as you watch him jump to his feet. “What?”

“God damnit, kid, I said run—!”

“There you are,” a third voice purrs, and you barely get a glimpse of the knife that glints maliciously at you just before it’s buried in Bill’s back. The hoarse scream that’s torn from the older man’s throat echoes hauntingly in your ears as it digs in deeper, forcing him against the ground. Dark red splatters across the snow when Ghostface violently wrenches it out of him.

Your shoulder cries out as you feebly scramble backwards, every little cut and bruise on your body flaring in pain as you awkwardly clamber back to your feet. Ghostface steps clean over Bill, who groans in pain on the ground, and the shard in your sweaty hand suddenly feels a thousand times heavier.

You can hear the simper in his voice when he says, “You didn’t forget about little old me, did you?” He wraps his gloved fingers around the bloody knife, wiping it clean with one swipe. “Oh, darling, I’m hurt.”

You’re running before you even know it. The cold air stings your lungs with each intake, your muscles burning with every step. You don't have a clue where you’re headed until you’re tearing through the killer shack, narrowly avoiding crashing into the generator that sits in the middle. You don’t need to look to know that he’s right behind you if the sounds of crunching snow and throaty laughter are anything to go by, and when your bare fingers find the splintered slab of wood sitting against the doorway, you waste no time throwing it down behind you.

You stop and turn to shout obscenities towards your assailant, but he’s nowhere to be found. You blink, and a knife is suddenly jammed between your ribs. “You should really look behind you sometimes,” Ghostface says coolly, pressing the blade deeper in emphasis and relishing in the way you whimper in pain. “Maybe you would have actually seen me go around the side of shack. Kind of embarrassing to fall for that, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

He tsks, ripping the knife out of your side and effectively taking away the only thing keeping you upright, letting you fall to the ground in a bloody heap. You look up at him through hazy eyes, looking like a dark mist against the pale gray sky, the screaming white mask being the only thing to come into focus. “You know, I don’t usually do this—”

You watch as one of his hands dives underneath his cloak, searching around for something for a solid five seconds until he pulls out a small handheld camera with a muted A-ha!

“—but I like you, so I’m willing to make an exception.”

“An exception?" You spit out a wad of blood and saliva. "What the hell are you—”

The air is unceremoniously knocked out of your lungs when he plops himself down on your stomach, knees caging you in and pinning your hands against the snow. You flinch when the glass shard hidden in your sleeve pinches the skin of your wrist.

Gloved fingers firmly grip your jaw and force you to turn toward the camera lens as he leans in close, the scent of cheap cologne assaulting your senses and filling up your head. You swear the smell alone would kill you before he ever could.

“Smile,” he breathes into your ear, and you’re blinded by the flash that goes off when he clicks the camera. You’re busy recoiling in the aftermath while he gazes quietly at the picture in the viewfinder, blinking away the green and purple splotches in your vision. Still gripping your jaw, he forcefully turns your head to show it to you.

The picture looks about exactly how you’d expect it to turn out. You're staring wide-eyed at the camera in shock and fear, blood seeping from your various wounds and soaking into your clothes. His mask takes up the entire left side of the photo, but if you look hard enough, you think you can spot a pair of dark eyes staring into the lens—they’re squinted at the edges, like he’s actually smiling underneath it as he casually holds up a peace sign.

"Say, you weren't a model or anything before this, were you? 'Cause damn." He lets out a low whistle. "This one’s definitely going in my collection.”

He takes one last, long look at the picture before tucking the camera back into his coat and stands, allowing the blood to resume flowing through the veins in both of your arms again as they’re overcome by that numb, prickly feeling. Too hurt and exhausted to resist, you limply allow him to maneuver you into a sitting position, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he effortlessly hauls you up onto his shoulder.

"Alright, playtime's over," he huffs. "Duty calls, blah blah blah, you know how it is. Ain't no rest for the wicked."

Something smooth and sharp slides into your palm from the depths of your sleeve. Catching a glimpse of your reflection in it’s surface, you let out a gasp that Ghostface assumes must be from the sight of the giant meat hook that appears at the corner of the shack, because he gently pats the backs of your thighs in what you assume is meant to be reassurance.

"Now, don't you worry, sweet-pea," he says, “the next time you and I get matched up, I promise I’ll play nice. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll even let you escape, yeah?” He laughs, and you can feel it vibrating through your ribcage. “After I kill your friends, of course.”

You grip the glass so tight in your palm, it digs into your fingers, drawing blood. You see your own eyes staring back at you through a thin stream of red, wild and angry and terrified, Bill’s words bouncing around in your skull as you raise the shard and slam it hard into the back of his shoulder, digging in viciously and twisting.

He inhales sharply, hands immediately losing their grip on you as he drops down to one knee, letting you slide off of his shoulder and land face-first in the snow. You push yourself up to your hands and knees, then to your feet, and glance nervously over your shoulder.

You meet those same eyes that had peered gleefully at you in the picture, no longer hiding behind that wretched mask as it lays by your feet in the snow, but they’re not squinting like they were before. They’re wide, pupils shrunken into tiny pinpricks as they bore into you, nostrils flaring and lips curling into a grimace as he reaches behind him and rips out the glass. Blood sprays from the wound in an arc, a fury so deep and animalistic roiling in his guttural tone as he ...

... Laughs.

Something dangerous glitters within his irises as he turns to face you. What catches you most off-guard, though, is that he's actually handsome underneath the mask—he's younger than you thought, with long lashes and full lips. A tiny scar marks the corner of his mouth, and it stretches slightly as he bares his teeth in a wide, manic grin.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He drops the glass shard and stands, and you're screaming at your body to move, but you can't. You just watch as he slowly reaches out to collect his mask and knife, refusing to take his eyes off of you even once. It's like it's just his gaze keeping you pinned. "The gift that keeps on giving?"

A loud buzzer sounds from somewhere in the distance. You flick your gaze away for just a moment to check which direction it came from, and by the time you look back, he's already secured the mask back in place.

"I'll tell you what," he begins, tilting his head at you curiously. "Let's make a bet. If you can last until your friends get alll the gens done, I'll let you go."

You swallow thickly. "And if I can't?"

Silence. You don't need to see his face to know that he's smiling. "You wanna find out?"

Strangely enough, a part of you almost does.

He lunges then, but you’re already on the move, adrenaline as well as an odd cocktail blend of terror and exhilaration pushing your body past its limits in a last-ditch effort at escaping this trial with your life.

You probably won’t, but you’re definitely gonna give him a run for his money—you figure that you've earned at least that much.

[edwinisms]

was looking at that list of edwardian vocabulary and im fucking losing my mind at the implications of edwin saying this anywhere near crystal or niko

[gardening--tools]

Preston has a terrible stick and poke tat of the Minutemen coat of arms. You agree.

Bummer under the cut!

(He got it from a fellow Minuteman when he was about nineteen. It was right before General Becker died. The kid was one of the newer recruits in Hollis' regiment, and he swore up and down that he could "do lightning bolts real good." To his credit, he did! He was just shit at everything else. But it was good fun and most of the regiment got one. Preston recalls this as one of his happier memories before it all hit the fan. Everyone else involved in this memory is dead.)

[witchlingcirce]

TLKOF CHAPTER 1 SPOILERS

Idk if anyone else picked up on this, but Ash really reminded me of Jace. Janus may be a shell of his old self but Jace’s sassiness runs too deep.

Cant believe Thule is missing this comedy duo already 😭

[glassroo]

happy 3 years to this image!! i coloured it :))