#i wanted to name her weasel but my mom thought that was mean

[deltasilly]

This is my cousins car btw

I'm also getting a new cat soon and she'll look just like him since they're related

The new cats name will be Sunny (yes it's an omori reference)

[simplydannie]

Poisoned (Velvets Version #1)

I haven’t touched on the Poison AU and what ifs in a while. This was inspired by a picture I saw on TikTok here.

TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ MENTION OF UNALIVING/ BLOOD

Jealousy begins to overtake Velvet. Suddenly, she finds her brother in the spotlight. Does this means she’d be forgotten? A blind uncontrollable rage takes over her… one she can’t protect her own brother from.

The cameras flashed, the voices of fans were heard all around. Velvet smiled and waved, blowing kisses left and right.

“Velvet! Over here!” She’d heard them call. She’d pose for pictures and sign autographs. Yes, this was the life she’s always wanted since she was a girl…. To be somebody. For too long she put this life aside all for her brother… now it was her turn.

Veneer never minded that his sister took the spotlight over him. After all the years she protected him from bullies, she deserved it. He’d take every moment to make sure the spotlight was on her.

“Thank you! Oh, thank you!” She gushed as they took her picture…But something began to change…

Was it her, was she being crazy? She began noticing the camera’s focusing on her brother more, his name being called more often. A twinge of jealousy began to overcome her.

“Veneer, we love hearing your voice in the background? But any thoughts on leading a song in the future.” One interview went. Veneer grew nervous, he side eyed his sister.

“Uh, no, no. I’m more of a background vocalist. Vels has always had the talent to sing lead. It’s just in her nature.” Veneer did is best to redirect the conversation.

“Of course she is! But that’s to bad, fans would really love to hear your voice. I’m I right folks!” The audience applauded and cheered. A curiousness began o grew inside Velvet…what was happening? But it would only get worse from there.

Why him? He was a nobody, always was and always would be. He was a nerd who would get bullied at in school…If it was for her, he wouldn’t even be here. And this is how he repays her. She sat at her vanity and looked herself in the mirror. What does that little weasel have that I don’t, she thought to herself. Why is all the attention on him now? A voice kept repeating and repeating inside her head…You’re not good enough. You’re not good enough.

“Stop it.” She said aloud.

Even with the Troll…You’re still not good enough.

“Shut up! Shut up!” She told the voice…The more she tried to stop it, the more it came back with vengeance.

He was always the favorite. Mom and dad would give him everything.

“He was sick. Of course they did.”

He even had you playing into his little trap…You even gave him everything. Even gave up having friends, being popular, homecoming, prom…

“He’s my brother. He’d do the same for me.”

Would he?

Knock. Knock.

“Vels?” Veneer popped his head through her door. “Vels, are you okay? I heard you talking with someone?”

“I’m fine Ven. I’m just tired.” She replied crossly.

“Oh.” He walked over and sat on her bed, his hands balled into fists on his knees. He kept biting his lower lip, “Sooo, do you want to maybe watch a movie?”

She turned him, giving him a questionable look, “What?”

“We haven’t really hung out or do anything like that in a while. That new movie we talked about is streaming. Maybe we could cook up some popcorn and-…”

“No.” She replied coldly turning back around.

“Oh come on Vels. OH! I know, maybe we can watch that new season of that reality show you love-…”

“I SAID NO! GET OUT!” She screamed. A sense of pain crept into her brother’s heart…She’d change…She didn’t want to do anything they loved doing anymore. He could see how consumed she was with this fame…but it’s what made her happy, who was he to question it? She sacrificed a lot for him, why not sacrifice this much for her…

“Oh…Okay…” With that he left her….She wanted to call him back, because once he left, the voices began to creep back in..

Immature. Freak. And they want him to solo?

“They never said anything about soloing…” She told the voice.

Oh but they did! Imagine when they see the potential he has…Why, it will no longer be Velvet and Veneer…Maybe your name won’t even be included anymore…

“Shut up! That’s not true! He wouldn’t do that to me.”

Oh but he would…It seems that he’s growing tired of you already…You have to do something…

Velvet’s eyes began to glow with a tint of pink hue, what was real and wasn’t began to mix, her mind growing in confusion and rage…She was starting to loose control.

You have to do something…He’ll betray you…He’ll take over, grab that attention of love YOU deserve…and keep it all for him…

“….That backstabber….” She said.

They love him. Adore him. They want HIM, not you…You’re irrelevant now.

“Not I’m not! I made us what we are!” She screamed looking at the mirror, her glowing brighter and brighter. “WE ARE HERE BECAUSE OF ME!”

Does he think that? He think’s you’re irrelevant. You have to show him who’s boss…Rid him, before he rids you….

The last words echoed in her mind. Her breathing grew heavy as the pink hue around her eyes grew brighter…Her body felt hot, she began to sweat…

“….Rid him…” She repeated and walked out the door.

Floyd sat in his diamond, hugging his knees….How did it come to this? Why? He did nothing but care for them, or at least try to… but then again…He did threaten to leave them because he couldn’t follow this path they were on. Instead of trying to help, he just watch change little by little…but the change he saw was, scary…as if little by little they were being replaced by something different. by an entirely different being… especially Velvet… he worried for her… His thoughts were broken as he heard the door open. Floyd looked round to see Veneer walking in, a sad look in his eyes.

The teen looked at Floyd….why did he do this to him? He walked up and sat on the chair, “Something… is wrong with Velvet…”

The small Troll glanced at Veneer, he had seen something into make him notice this, “I’ve been thinking the same thing for a while now bud.”

“But what? Why is she acting like this?….This isn’t Velvet, my Velvet… the one who was always there for me…” A sadness crossed his face, “What’s happening to her?”

“I…I don’t know…” Was all Floyd could say. There was silence between them. Veneer looked at the Troll, he grabbed the diamond. The two looked at each for a moment…Veneer then began to open the diamond.

“Ven?” Floyd said, but his name echoed in a voice behind him.

“Ven. What are you doing?” He turned to find Velvet staring at him… her eyes glowing pink.

“V-Vels.” He stuttered.

“Why do you have the Troll?”

“I was just… talking to him.”

“Nothing else?” She saw how his hand was over the lid.

“Y-yes.” Was all he mustered to say. He caught a glint of metal in his sister’s right hand….a knife? “W-why do you h-have that?”

“…Be honest with me Ven, do you ever think about a solo career?”

“N-no of course not!”

He’s lying.

“All this fame isn’t getting into your head. Making you feel that you’re too good for me.” Velvet continued.

“No. Vels what’s going on? You know I’m doing this for you.” He replied setting down the diamond. Floyd watched helplessly as the next events unfolded… she crept closer to him.

He’s doing it for himself. No one else. He’s such a freaking liar.

“Don’t you dare lie to me Ven! All these questions they’ve been asking you. All the attention you’re getting. It’s all part of your plan isn’t it.” She said, the dark circles under her eyes growing deeper.

“Velvet no of course not! I don’t know what they’re saying that! But… I’d never do that to you.” He walked closer to her, “It’s us against all of them right…” Floyd couldn’t warn Veneer in time, he had gotten to close, to comfortable, she was his sister… so he’d never imagine her doing what she did then…

Reaching up with her left hand, she tightened her hand around his throat. Veneer gasped for air “…V-Vels…”

“No… no it’s not is against them anymore….” The pink hue still around her eyes, a redness glinting across them. “It’s just me.”

“Velvet no!” Floyd screamed….Taking the knife she had, she stabbed her own brother on the neck. Floyd turned away, he couldn’t bear the sight. The shock in Veneers face turned to hurt, to betrayal…

“Why?” He gagged as tears rolled down his face.

“You can’t betray me… You won’t now..” Velvet replied as she dug the knife deeper. He winced and cried with every inch it dug…

“….youre…. My sister….. I…. love….” But nothing else came out, his body grew limp. She released him letting his body fall with a thump on the floor.

Good. There’s only room for one superstar now. The voice told her… then it was gone. Her head spun, she wobbled on her feet…

“What the heck…” she began to say. Velvet then noticed the knife in her hand. She gasped and let it drop to the floor… “Why, why do I have that. Vennie?” She noticed her brother’s limp body on floor.

“Vennie?” She noticed his eyes halfway open, the last of his tears falling to the floor…. A pool of blood forming around him. “….oh my god…” She knelt next to him. “Vennie!?” Picking him she shook him.

“VENNIE!”

No answer…. His body beginning to grow cold. She looked at the knife she had dropped on the floor…. The knife that was in her hand..

“No….no…..no…” She looked up to see Floyd. His little head was leaning against the diamond, tears staining his cheeks, “What happened?….Floyd! What happened!” She saw the look of sadness in his eyes as he stared at her..

“Tell me I didn’t do this. PLEASE TELL ME I DIDNT DO THIS!” She began to cry. Velvet picked up her brother’s body and hugged it tightly, hoping it would bring him back… his blood staining her clothes. “PLEASE TELL ME I DIDN’T DO THIS!!” She cried again.

“Velvet…. Something’s happening to you…. Something bad…”

But she couldn’t hear him… she let the pain in her cries fill the air, her eerie cries and screams. She had always protected him… but in the end… she couldn’t protect him from herself…

[highschoolstoryliveson]

Chloe's Birthday(s)

17

On her seventeenth birthday, Chloe groans as her alarm clock wakes her up. At some point in the night her moms must’ve snuck in to change it from the song it usually plays. Miserably looking at the time, she doesn’t bother hitting snooze, just unplugging the thing entirely. Before she can fall back into bed and pretend to be sick for the day, her phone starts buzzing. 

Accepting the facetime invite, she’s unsurprised to see Chase on some sort of train. His eyes are bright, “Happy birthday, little sis!”

Rubbing her eyes, Chloe can’t help but smile at this. “I’m like an hour older than you, dummy.”

“Maybe so, but I’ve been seventeen for nine more hours than you. So for as long as I’m here, you get to be the younger twin.”

“That’s not… that’s not how any of that works.” She huffs out a laugh and yawns, “Have you had a good day so far?”

“Totally! My host parents got us train tickets to Paris! Originally they wanted to take me to the Louvre but I knew-”

“That if you ever went without me I would kill you, blood be damned?”

“Exactly. So instead we just got to explore- and it’s so beautiful here! And hate to say it, but the bread really lives up to the hype.” 

“Spent your birthday eating bread? And I thought my plans were sad.”

“Hey! I had a piece of bread. I just didn’t bring up the nightclub because I didn’t want to make you jealous.” Chloe rolls her eyes, letting him continue instead of continuing to torture him. It was his birthday too, after all. “And what do you mean? I thought you’d have a bunch of plans with all of your new friends.”

“Yeah, but after last year it all feels too soon, ya know? I just want today to go like normal… but with more chocolate chip pancakes of course.”

“Of course… but Chlo- you really shouldn’t let what Jeanette did ruin your literal birthday.” 

Wincing at the mention of the name, she has to resist the urge to hang up and hide under her covers. “Maybe…”

“You know I’m right.” Blowing some of his blonde hair out of his eye, Chase looks to the side to talk to someone offscreen. “Oh shit- we’re about to get home and Pav says they have another surprise for me. Just…try to do something nice for yourself. Let other people do something nice for you.” 

“I- I’ll try. Love you.”

“Love you too!” And with that he’s gone. Again. She flops back onto her bed and stares at the ceiling, still wondering if she can weasel her way out of going to school. 

16

On her sixteenth birthday, Chloe was woken up by two figures laughing as they tried to sneak into her room. Glad she had the warning, she was prepared when her two best friends jumped into her bed singing ‘happy birthday’ as loudly and off-key as possible. From down the hall she could hear Chase’s friends doing the same thing. 

Katie was quick to bury herself under the covers with Chloe, while Jeanette looked through her closet and picked through outfits until she landed on Chloe’s favorite dress. Tossing the garment onto the bed, her friends left to let her get dressed and to help her moms with breakfast. 

Pulling the dress over head, she noticed that one side of the dress was a bit heavier. Once she had smoothed down any wrinkles, her hand slipped into the left pocket. Fingers wrapping around a tiny box, she pulled the first gift out. 

Gently pulling the ribbon, her heart warmed as she saw a jewelry box. Inside was a locket with a picture of the three of them their freshman year. 

17

Eventually, she accepts that she needs to face the day head on instead of hiding away from it all. Even if Payton is sure to want to do something, there might still be time to stop whatever party she has planned. 

As if.

Still, she takes some extra time pulling herself together. From making sure that her shirt doesn’t have any wrinkles, to taking the time to curl her hair, Chloe lets herself pretend for at least a moment that it’ll just be a normal day. Maybe above average, with people being nicer and the occasional ‘happy birthday’ being murmured her way. 

Before she leaves for breakfast, she stops by the large rat cage in the corner of the room. Their cage is a strange mish mash of decorations, each one of her friends pitching something in. Taking her boys gently into her hands and putting them on her shoulder as she fills their food bowls, Chloe giggles as freckles licks her cheek. “Yeah yeah, sweet boys, thank you. We’ll make sure to do something for your birthday too.” 

While making her way downstairs, she’s not surprised by the smell of pancake batter and burning chocolate. Both of her moms are in the kitchen- Stacy covered in pancake batter and Jill in chocolate syrup and whipped cream. There’s a mark on Jill’s cheek that matches Stacy’s lipstick. 

“I thought we agreed no chocolate chip pancakes this year…after-”

Cutting her off and grabbing her shoulders, her mom leads her to the table. “And we listened, Sweetheart.” Kissing her cheek and leaving her with a mark to match her mom’s, she watches as they both go into the kitchen. While waiting for them to come back, Chloe takes a quick photo of the lipstick mark on her cheek before wiping it off with a napkin. A sting goes through her heart as she remembers that this is the first year Chase won’t have a matching one. 

Still, her face lights up when she sees the strawberry covered pancakes. “Chocolate chip and strawberry pancakes.” They set the plate in front of her with a flourish, steam still wafting off them. Swatting Chloe’s hand away when she tries to eat, Stacy quickly adds the whipped cream and sticks a candle in the middle dollop. “Make a wish.” 

Instead of doing so, Chloe blows out the candle and gives both of her moms a kiss on the cheek, thanking them before digging into her breakfast. 

16

Every year, her moms made the same mistake. And every year, breakfast would end with both of the twins needing to wash the whipped cream off of their faces and out of their hair because the cans had been left on the table. The dining room had been a bit crowded, Chloe with her two best friends, Chase and his four buddies from whatever he got up to after school, two of their aunts, and their moms- but it had been so full of cheer and love no one even thought to complain. 

“You should probably head out, if you don’t want to be late.” Jill advised her children while picking up the towels everyone had used to clean up. 

Pouting, Chase crossed his arms. “It’s our birthday and you’re making us take the bus?”

“Yeah! Come on, Mrs. M, don’t leave our bro hanging!” Mike or Kale or whoever the brunette slacker was stood up for them. Chloe would’ve felt bad about not knowing her brother’s friends’ names, but he changed his friend group every few weeks. At this point it was better not to get attached. 

“And who said you were taking the bus?” Stacy’s smile promised something amazing, “Look outside.” 

Seeing the two cars with large red bows on the top, neither twin had to ask what car was theirs. Chase ran over to the black used convertible with a cheer, jumping over the door and into the front seat. Only one of his friends could fit into the car with them, but he told them all to find their own rides and drove off- no doubt in anyone's mind that he would be skipping school that day. 

Smiling at his antics, Chloe made her way to the lime green beetle. Katie joined her in the front while Jeanette sat in the backseat. As she looked through the glovebox and dash, she found two more wrapped gifts. “Guys? How many of these are there?” 

“You’ll just have to see~” Katie sang into her ear

Tearing open the paper, Chloe smiled down at the photo of the three of them during the winter formal. Chloe’s dress was a size too big, Jeanette’s at the time new braces had pretty much forced her face into a semi-permanent grimace, and Katie had yet to perfect her technique for dying her hair so half of the red had already faded. It was perfect. 

“You guys-” she felt a little choked up, and it was hard to keep her voice high. Luckily, she had told both of them over the summer and they had been accepting. Lowering her voice slightly as she cleared her throat, Chloe ignored the side glance from the back seat. They were in the middle of nowhere Alabama- it was going to be jarring. She was just glad that neither of them hated her for it or tried to say that she wasn’t like them. 

17

Just as Chloe reaches for the door handle to drive herself to school, a knock startles her. When she opens the door, it’s to Autumn, Mia, and Payton standing with a box of cupcakes. “Happy birthday!” Payton sings, gracefully pushing past her and walking inside. 

“Guys, I thought we agreed not to do anything.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Mia tilts her head towards Payton before grabbing a red velvet cupcake for herself and offering one to Chloe. 

After a bite, the pink haired girl huffed. “You’re lucky these are good.” 

Luckily, for the most part that was all anyone had planned for the day. Sure, every time someone passes Chloe in the hall they wish her a happy birthday, but that’s all she was wanting. Letting herself fall back into the chaos of things, she can almost forget what happened last year. 

16

In every single one of her classes, she found a tiny gift somewhere in or on her desk. She collected a mood ring, some heart earrings, and a signed poster from THE Claire Swanson. Even on the walk back to her car after school, Chloe spotted a gift tucked into a branch in the tree right next to the exit. In the box was a leather bound custom journal from Katie and a blue sweater from Jeanette.

Running her fingers over the soft fabric and looking at the thick cut pages of the journals, Chloe stopped holding herself back and tackled her two best friends in a crushing hug. “You two are the most amazing friends in the world.”

“Right back at ya.” Jeanette’s hold had been tight and protective around her while Katie nuzzled into the space between her neck and shoulder. It was almost overwhelming to feel so loved by two people. Chloe felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have them in her life. 

17

Chloe wishes that any of her friends knew how to be subtle. Not only was Payton’s wild goose chase an obvious way to waste time, but every single one of her friends cars immediately turned to the route to get to her house when they left. Starting to wonder how any of them were able to come off as suspicious or threatening in the beginning, she sighs and begins the doomed search for Payton’s lip gloss. 

An hour later, she gets a text saying that Payton actually just found the tube of glittery paste in her pocket and Chloe is good to go home. Sending a thumbs up in response, Chloe wonders if it’s too late to join her brother in Europe. 

“You know, making them wait isn’t going to stop the party.” A voice comes behind her. Chloe jumps and turns to see Beckett with a few books in his arms. “Just going to worry them.” 

“Well maybe I’ll let them worry,” She crosses her arms and slides down the wall and onto the floor. “I told them I didn’t want a party.” 

Sitting next to her, Beckett lets Chloe lean against his arm. “And I’m sure that they believed that you, Chloe Smith-McMannon, who throws the second most parties in this school, really meant that.” 

“Well I did.”

“Why?” He tilts his head, looking uncannily like his puppy, “I feel like you more than anyone deserve a day of people celebrating you. I mean look at how much you’ve done for this place, and it’s your first year in this state. Everyone at this school is coming from… something, and you gave them a home. Let them sing a few songs for you and shower you with affection.” 

Sighing, she leans into her friend's comfort for just a little bit longer. “You know, most exes don’t stay behind to talk their old partners into going to her own surprise party.” 

“Then I’m glad I don’t see you as an ex.” He stands up and offers his hand to help her up, “Just a best friend.” 

“You’re a cornball, you know that?” She accepts his hand. 

“And damn proud of it.” 

16

After school, the trio made their way to the skate park. Occasionally Chloe and Chase liked to rollerskate on the ramps or in the dip, but her skates were at home and her brother was god knows where. So instead they made their way to an unoccupied ramp, climbed to the top, and watched as Jeanette lit a joint for herself. 

Both Katie and Chloe were too terrified to ever try smoking- so they just sat beside her and watched. They had done this enough times that their noses didn’t even wrinkle at the smell of Jeanette’s subpar weed. 

For a while, they just basked in the silence. Chloe had long closed her eyes and been basking in the sun when she heard the scrape of wheels against old wood. Her eyes opened in time to see Wilbur Diaz- a senior she had known (and had a huge crush on) since freshman orientation. “Hear it’s your birthday, McMannon.” He said, catching himself on the ramp and pulling himself up with one hand to sit next to her. 

“Yep! Officially sixteen- can you see a difference?” 

At first he just jokingly glanced her over, but then he leaned in for a ‘closer look’. He was so close that Chloe could feel his soft breaths against her lips, and it wouldn’t take much for either of them to close the distance. “Nah, still cute.” 

“Hi, Wilbur!” Jeanette spoke up, effectively ruining the moment. 

“Hey, Jean.” he nodded at her before turning his attention back to Chloe, “So I was thinking, since I was a total dumbass for not getting you anything today- maybe I could make it up to you. Take you to my ma’s restaurant in the city?” He nervously picked at his thumb, and Chloe covered his hand with her own. 

“I’d love to.” 

17

Exactly like Chloe expected, her friends’ cars line the streets and all of the lights in the house are obviously turned off when she steps out of the car. Ignoring the loud shushing, she does her best to act shocked when everyone pops up from behind her furniture to yell ‘surprise!’ 

The first thing she does is hug Payton. “Thank you.” 

“Of course!” Excitedly taking her hands, Payton cheers, “Let's do gifts!”

“Don’t people usually save that for the end?” Chloe laughs as she’s dragged to the dining room- saying hello to everyone she can as they pass by. The table is piled reasonably high with gifts. 

With eyes somehow brighter than when she saw a puppy, Payton shook her head. “Who cares what people usually do? I’m SO excited for you to see what we all got you.” 

16

Jeanette had been quiet ever since the skate park, and it wasn’t until they were already halfway to Chloe’s house that she finally spoke up. “I’m actually not feeling great, could you drop me off at home?”

“Oh.” Chloe deflated slightly and turned back in concern, “Are you okay? I’m sure my moms have some-”

“And I’m sure I want to go home.” Jeanette snapped, cutting her off. 

“Right.” Chloe changed the directions on her phone. Still, her expression rose a little when Katie put her hand over her’s. At least this wouldn’t be a total wash, she’d still have her best friend with her. She wasn’t going to let something so small ruin her birthday. Jeanette would get over… whatever was making her so angry, and they’d all be okay. 

17

Going through all of the gifts, Chloe almost isn’t able to handle how oppressive everyone's affection becomes. Kallie gets her a pink teddy bear with a little clown hat and collar, Sakura and Nishan surprise her with an almost suspiciously large pile of all of their favorite games for her Xbox (Nishan says they split the cost, but Chloe knows how decent Sakura is at pirating games she thinks are too expensive), Mia and Ezra give her a CD with a professionally mixed version of the song she had originally made for the band’s first album. 

“I finally got them to sit down and listen to it-”

“And it’s awesome! Oh my god we need to do more fun stuff like that with your fiddle.”

“We’re also going to put it on the band’s website, as an introduction to our sound.”

In the gift from Payton, Chloe pulls out two tiny suits intricately sewn to fit her rats. They even have little nametags, ‘Freckles’ and ‘Bunch’ written in careful and tiny script. “What kind of fairy godmother would I be to them if I forgot them on your special day??”

Lastly, she makes her way over to the largest gift. Even if the wrapping paper wasn’t made of photos of the two of them hanging out, Chloe would know it was from Autumn. Carefully unwrapping the gift to keep the paper in tact, she’s rendered speechless by the painting revealed. 

It’s the day she came out to Autumn. The two of them are walking on the boardwalk with ice cream- tastefully colored to represent the trans flag. The both of them look realistic, but also the vibrant colors Autumn used almost makes it look like they’re glowing. With tears in her eyes, Chloe attacks her best friend in a hug- uncaring of Wes being knocked off balance next to her. “This is the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me!” She mumbled, struggling to hold back tears of joy. 

“I’m glad.” Gentle arms wrapped themselves around her, “I just wanted to capture how beautiful and amazing you are…I’m glad that I was able to get close.” 

After that, she’s able to really start enjoying herself. They order pizza and have too much cake, watch her favorite horror movies, and play truth or dare- ending with Chloe and Julian sharing the most awkward kiss in the history of the universe. 

As she melts into the couch next to her friends, squished between Payton and Wes and all the happier for it, her phone dings. She looks down to see a message from Katie, just a simple ‘Happy birthday, Sweetness’. Feeling her throat filling with bile and eyes stinging with tears, she quickly excuses herself and rushes outside. 

Noticing the haste that she left in, Wes shifts to glance at her phone. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth pulls back into the beginning of a frown. Grabbing his bag, he shifts through for a second until finding what he was looking for. “I’m going to take a smoke break, be right back.” 

“You know those things will kill you one day.” Autumn chides, but she’s still smiling and leans in to let him kiss her cheek before he goes outside. 

Sitting on the bench in the backyard, Chloe is only given a few seconds warning that someone is coming. Stifling her sobs and palming away the tears and makeup on her cheeks, she looks up to see Wes walk outside. Despite knowing that she looks like a mess, he doesn’t say anything when he sits next to her. He just lights his cigarette and after a moment, offers it to her. 

Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach when their fingers touch, Chloe takes the cigarette from him and takes a large inhale from it. Letting the smoke pass her lips, the nicotine rushes through her system and forces her back into the moment. 

They smoke in silence, passing the cigarette back and forth until it’s nothing but the butt. Tossing it into his bag to deal with later, Wes pulls a large stack of papers out of his bag. 

“What’s that?”

“Your birthday gift.” He hands the stack over, and she’s faced with maybe a hundred pictures. Some of the tweets sent out when the ‘news’ broke at her old school, some of photos of her, Jeanette, and Katie, and somehow there’s the message sent to Wilbur telling him about her not an hour after they had left the skate park. 

“Without explanation, this is a really shitty gift, Wes.” 

Smirking, he digs in his pocket, “Good thing that’s not all of it.” Finally, he pulls out his lighter and hands it over. “You shouldn’t let those bitches ruin your birthday. Jeanette ruined your life and Katie left you out to dry. Some fucking friends.” Chloe went to correct him but was interrupted by the lump in her throat. “It’s time to stop letting them get to you. Burn that shit to the ground.”

“You’re insane.” Still, she leads him over to the fire pit and sets the papers down. The two of them huddle in the chill night air and watch as the bitter memories go up in flames. 

From the window, Stacy and Jill watch as their little girl leans into the arms of one of her friends. Stacy reaches out to clutch her wife’s hand, and the two share a knowing look when they see how the teens are looking at each other. “I’m glad she’s finally learning to trust again.”

“Me too. I’m so proud of her, you know?”

The Next Day

Just as she’s getting out of homeroom, Chloe gets a frantic text from Payton. ‘SOS- Student clubs protesting’

[bobbybutterfly]

It’s been over 2 weeks since I last posted. Well. I hope that these four pieces were worth the wait.

Mulori! Boy I’m proud of this piece! I tried experimenting with colour by using warmer colours for shadows and cool colours for lights. She’s really giving angel of war descending from the heavens.

What to say about Mulori? Her death! You’re telling me that scout Gosemdouchi got a whole ass music video dedicated to him and Mulori gets NOTHING?! I’m outraged. But her edition of In the Years I Spent Far From Home is just so beautiful. Now I’m writing about it, I’m not sure if they made a separate cover for when she sings it in Operation White Snow or she was always singing it. Non the less it slaps.

Interesting was to see she’s shown often with Commander Gosemdouchi. He personally sends her off on her mission to stop the weasel spies (I’m sorry I don’t remember the name of their group). He cries when she dies, proclaiming they should fire their missiles for Mulori. The reason why I find it interesting is that when I went to write a short story about Mulori’s time in the military, I made them have a let’s say weird relationship. Maybe it got saved in my unconscious memory. Just like with Udochi being scout Gosemdouchi’s younger brother LOL. I thought I made that up but no!

I should maybe go back to that story sometime. Probably change Commander Gosemdouchi to a lower rank hedgehog that still has authority over her. A country leader would not have time to bully some low rank scout. Even though it is quite funny when I think about it.

Oewepali! I got told that this piece lacks depth because I use the same colours in the foreground and background. That’s a problem in all my pieces. It’s my fault for trying to use a very limited colour palette. Also what happened to his left arm and now that I’m looking at it, where’s his tail? The lighting too is… With the lighting in these pieces I wasn’t thinking about where it would logically go. I just made the lighter parts where they would look good compositionally. Yeah. I’m not that proud of the last two pictures.

As for what I think of this character… I originally thought that he got some developmental disability. I thought it would be interesting to write about a character during war that doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Kinda like Forest Gump. After rewatching the series (I still have to rewatch last two episodes) I came to the conclusion that he’s neurotypical but bullied by his brothers into thinking that he’s stupid. In the later episodes he’s shown to be actually quite capable. If I ever write a story featuring him I might give him like dyslexia though. I imagine he and his brothers went through a lot of trauma. Because he was the youngest and maybe had difficulty with learning they picked on him to let their frustration out.

Mulsajo! That’s right! I know his name now! I drew his paw like that because it was like that in the reference. I don’t really like it but I don’t have an idea how I would change it. I did change though, his teeth. My mom shown me rodent teeth because she didn’t like the mice have cat fangs. So he is a little more anatomically correct. Ignore the dog nose and that he’s anthropomorphic. LOL.

I took just so many screenshots! I should sometime post them. I love how they’re drawn in this picture! SO CUTE!

Mulsajo has one of the best designs in the show. The ripped up purple shirt is iconic. It was a while since I’ve seen the episodes with him. Before rewatching the show I thought he was a decent guy. Then I rewatch the show and he’s so mean to poor Oewepali. Dude can’t get a break. My head cannon still is that he’s nice but because they were starving, he’s aloud to be a bit grumpy. He’s also spiritual. Giving us one of the funnier jokes when Oewepali asks if he can eat the big fish only to be told no and then complain that Mulmangcho should have died earlier. This show’s dark humour is pretty great.

I want to develop my own mythology for my AU. Such as the mouse kings being descended from the sea god because Mulmangcho (he’s a king in exile in my AU) is often shown by the sea. It’s something I was thinking about when I drew this piece. It’s also inspired by Mulsajo’s death. Now if we’re talking about a main side character dying, Mulsajo has it the worst. He is never mentioned again in season 1. If you didn’t pay attention you wouldn’t have noticed he died. He is only sort of mentioned in season 2 episode 1. Mulmangcho is in disguise as a squirrel making up stories about what the wolves did to him and his family. He mentions his twelve dead brothers and how they cut off his tail. You begin to realise that he’s talking about what Flower Hill did to him. Obviously the moral is to never trust strangers no matter what they tell you. But I like to view it as a rare sympathetic scene for Mulmangcho. If someone was to write a continuation of season 2 I would like to see them expand on that scene.

Also fan art idea to design Mulmangcho’s 11 other dead brothers?

Last one up is Scout Gosemdouchi. Please don’t pay much attention to the plane. I really got to do some airplane studies. For the background I tried something more graphic and non literal. Lots of people I shown it to think he’s jumping out of the plane.

I actually have some trauma dumping I want to do. I swear it’s related to Squirrel and Hedgehog. If you don’t want to hear me whine about my catholic trauma then skip the next paragraph.

Alright then. Let’s get on with it. So I was like 8 years old. Our whole catholic school went to church. The priest starts preaching about this “real” story from China. The communists were cracking down on Christians. Some soldiers trashed a church. Taking special care the throw the Eucharist on the ground and stomp it with their muddy boots. Later a little girl would sneak into the boarded up church and lick the Eucharist off the ground. One day a soldier noticed her doing that AND SHOT HER ON SIGHT! Lesson? Be willing to die for your god.

I guess I like the cartoon because it reminds me of my childhood. LOL. Be sure to share your stories of childhood indoctrination in the comments! For real though, scout Gosemdouchi’s and Mulori’s deaths are to me the grossest parts of Squirrel and Hedgehog. Luckily I’ve got my head cannons that sort of fix that for me.

Originally this was the first picture I talked about but I found what I had to say was quite depressing. Plus religion is a touchy subject. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I’m just talking about my own experiences. Also it’s good to have it off my chest. Now I don’t have to think about it anymore! YAY!

[abbatoirablaze]

How To Get Away With Murder, Chapter 5

Word Count:  2.5k

Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, depiction of murder of a minor character, promiscuous relationships, mention of an underage pregnancy/secret pregnancy, taboo relationship, smut. 

"Cheyanne," my mom asked, from the office on the main floor, "Have you seen Frank yet?"

I shook my head, "No mom, I haven't seen him in a few days now. Sasha called me the other day asking if I wanted to grab lunch so she’s back in town.  He's probably stuck with her."

"That would explain why Lauren is down." Annalise said with a shrug. Just on the other side of the closed doors the Keating 5 had just finished up on another case and were waiting to hear what was next on the docket. 

"Laurel!"

"What?" Annalise asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Her name is Laurel, not Lauren, mom," I laughed, "I know you don't like the girl but give her a shot. She is really smart."

"Smart can only take you so far, Cheyanne," she sighed, "She's only cutthroat when it comes to talking to you.  The girl would slit your throat if it could get her further.  Hell I’m sure she’d slit your throat just for fun at this point."

I took a second to think it over. The only times that Laurel had been argumentative was when I was around with Frank.  She would get really aggressive.

"Can I come in," Wes asked, knocking on the door, “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

I walked over to the door and opened it, letting him in, "What do you want?"

"Asher never showed up. Laurel left ten minutes ago, and we were wondering if we could head home early. The bonfire is tonight and some of us wanted to go."

"Why did Laurel leave?"

"I don't know her phone started to go off, and she just left."

"Go home. I need to talk with my daughter.  Thank you for asking me, Wes."

Wes nodded, and I closed the door to the office. On the other side of the door, we could hear Michaela telling them to meet at Asher's place.

"Honey, I need to talk to you about your father," she sighed, "Sit down."

"Does it have anything to do with the Lila Stangard case?"

Annalise nodded, "I've got a call with the D.A later and I want you to know before anyone else does."

"It's why Bonnie isn't here..."

"You know?"

I nodded, "We've got to talk about some things too mom. Tell dad about the DNA testing and then come to my house. I need to show you something."

"Cheyanne?"

I looked at her one last time before I stood up and headed towards the double doors, "I love you mom, but I only did it to protect you. You'll see."

“Okay…”

I walked out of my parent's house and started to my own, only to be stopped by Sam, "Honey, what are you doing here?"

"You and mom need to talk."

"She already thinks she knows everything," he said in an angered tone, "Let's go in and talk about this, Cheyanne…with your mother."

"No, dad," I sighed, trying to weasel my way out of having to be in the room with the two of them when they had their discussion, "She fired Bonnie today and she found out about the baby. Right now, she is on the phone with the D.A. And she's going to request a DNA test."

"Cheyanne, you don't know what you are talking about!" he said nervously, eyeing up the house before turning back to me, “come on, honey.  Come inside with me.  Let’s talk to your mother together!”

"Dad I'm done covering for you. I know everything," I yelled. A few concerned students stopped walking, before their friends pulled them along.  I sighed and bit my lip but pulled my father close to myself in a hug as to not attract any further attention, "I love you dad...but I know who you are. I know what you are. You use people. You manipulate them. You manipulated me. You manipulated mom, Bonnie, Frank. All of us. Whatever mom does, I hope it ends you."

With a final sigh, I kissed him on the cheek and got into my car without a second thought, heading to my house. I knew that the conversation was going to be a long one between mom and dad.  I could see the tiredness in her eyes and knew that she was going to say she wanted a divorce.  I also knew that I was going to be prepared for when she came over with a bottle of wine, a warm bedroom that she could use as her own while they went through the legalities, and a shoulder to cry on.

After the fight had taken place, and Michaela had made it over to the Keating mansion, Rebecca snuck through the front door. This was her chance to prove Mr. Darcy killed her friend, not her. 

She just needed to get her hands on the proof.  And she had been waiting for Annalise to leave.  But she was shocked when she heard two voices talking in the dark.  She had tried desperately to sneak up the stairs, but was caught at the foot of them when someone called her name.

“Rebecca?”

She turned, seeing Michaela.  Sam was glaring at her, a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Call Wes." she pleaded, making a bee-line for the Keating's master bedroom. She heard the lock click right as Sam Keating beat on the door telling her to let him in. Michaela, unsure of what is going on, called Wes. It was right then and there, at the foot of the stairs she found out just the extent this whole mess had gone on.

She had managed to stumble into not just an intense fight, but something that she knew would end in a gruesome way if she didn’t intervene.

She grabbed at her neck in disbelief. Sam broke down the bedroom door, forcing Rebecca into the bathroom. Within moments, the rest of the Keating 5 was in the master bedroom trying to diffuse the situation.  They were all talking a mile a minute, and it only led to more confusion. It wasn't working. Tension hung in the air like a knife. As Rebecca and Wes passed Sam he tackled them.

His career may have been in tatters if the evidence got out there, but it wasn't going to be ruined because Annalise's little lap dogs caught him.  He wasn’t going to just roll over from five law students and his wife. He saw the flash drive and made a grab for it. Wes, Rebecca, and himself all were involved in the struggle. Conner tried to jump in, but Sam easily struck him away. Next, Laurel fought her way in, grabbing it and making her way towards the stairs. Sam overpowered the young adults and chased after her.

As he grabbed for Laurel, Michaela pushed him over the edge of the railing. And that's when the house got silent.  It seemed like everything went in slow motion as Sam went over the rail and tumbled to the floor below.  When everyone rushed to the stairs their hearts caught in their throats.

Sam was still.   They all had made the assumption that Sam had died from the fall.  It wasn't until they began arguing that they noticed Sam get up and make a move for Rebecca. In one swift motion he was on top of her trying to strangle the life out of her. The screaming continued, and Wes grabbed the trophy, swinging it at the back of Sam's head. This time, he was dead.

They were sure of it.

The Keating 5, minus Asher, took to cleaning up their crime, meanwhile across town Annalise debated turning in her husband for the murder of Lila Stangard.

At her home, Cheyanne began to worry about her mother. Why hadn't se arrived? She called the one person she knew she could always rely on.

"Hey, are you with Laurel?" he pled.  My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach as the worry was all for her, “Chey?”

"Why would I be with Laurel?"

"I don't know maybe Annalise called you guys with a new case,” he said nervously, “your mom is bat shit crazy and I wouldn’t put it past her to call a meeting right now if she got pertinent information!”

"How's Sasha?"

There was a moment of silence, "How did you know?"

"Your voice always changes when you are with her. It's higher,” I commented dryly, “is she at your place right now?  That why you’re really asking about Laurel?  Because she caught you with her?”

I heard a door close on the other side of the phone before he continued, "We just broke up, again. I brought Laurel over."

"Wow," I scoffed into the phone.  My voice was barely above a whisper, “how smooth.”

"What?"

"Just when I think you can't physically get any worse, you prove me wrong."

"Cheyanne, please don't start."

"I'm just saying," I laughed to myself,  "You never change, Frank."

"Predictability is a good thing."

"I needed it. I'm worried about my mom," I admitted to myself with a sigh, "She found out about Lila's baby. And she's going to confront my dad about it. She was supposed to be over half an hour ago."

He had taken a sharp breath in, afraid to say anything.

"Frank, I know it wasn't him."

"What?"

"I know who took care of her in August. It wasn't my father."

"Chey…I don’t want to talk about this again."

"I know you did it to protect him. Just like he protected you with my little brother." I sighed, admitting what she'd always known, “but I-shit…can we just meet up and talk about this?"

"There is nothing to talk about."

“Yes there is!”

"Fine.  I'm coming over." He said, hanging up. I sighed again and put my hair up. If I was going to have the dreaded conversation with Frank, I was at the very least going to be comfortable.

So I went upstairs to my bedroom and went to my dresser. Pulling out a beige cami and matching sleep shorts, I threw them on, and grabbed a pair of fluffy socks.  Downstairs, I could hear the front door close, and I didn't know if it would be my mother or ex-boyfriend who never seemed to knock either. Both still had keys to her house anyways.

But just as I opened the door, I was pushed back into the room. Frank picked me up and slammed his lips into my own.

"This can't happen," I recalled between kisses, "We can't. Sasha. Laurel.  Frank-this-this is too messy!"

"I don't care," he practically yelled.  Part of me didn't want to care either, but the much larger part thought about New York, and the carousel I seemed to be on with him, “I just need to feel you, Chey.  I need to feel you, baby.”

I pulled away from him and stood up against his body. He kept lifting my chin and kissing me, but something stopped me this time from fully giving myself up to him.

Rather…someone.

"I can't," I sighed. He pulled away from me and gave me a sad look. I backed away and sat him down on what used to be our shared bed. "Frank. I can't."

"I love you though, Chey."

"I love you too," I admitted.  He got on his knees in front of me and kissed me once more, trying to pull back any part of our passion that he could.  He felt the same shock between them that he'd had since the day he met her, but in front of it was a large wall.  I pushed him away, “Frank…stop…”

He pulled away and slammed his fists on either side of the bed, "Then you tell me why can't we try again? I miss you so much Cheyanne.  I miss laying in this bed with you.  I miss waking up with you.  I miss us being a family…" 

"Frank," I pleaded sadly, "Go home.  Please…just go back to your apartment.”

“I am home…”

He stood up, reaching for me again, but I held my arm out, pushing him away, "Go away Frank, please." 

"I'm not leaving," he sighed, “I am home…I-“

"Well, I'm not talking to you," I responded, flipping over so I  wasn't facing Frank, “and if I can’t see you then you’re not here.”

“You’re being childish, Chey…”

“Being childish would be not communicating with me and making it so that our daughter walked in on you fucking your flavor of the week…oh wait…that has happened.”

"How's Julie?" 

I turned back around, tears in my eyes, "You don't get to ask about her!  You don’t get to talk about her.  Not after what you put her through when you and Sasha started getting serious after you walked out on me.  After you walked out on us!"

"I'm her father!" he said in an angry voice.  He stood up in a rush. 

"It's none of your business, Frank." 

"She still living with Eve?" 

"Leave her alone." 

"I've never talked to her after that day," he said, "I've never looked for her.  I just want to see her.  I want to know about her, Chey." 

“You don’t need to know about her life, Frank…she’s fine without you…hell, she’s fine without me…Eve’s making sure she’s okay.”

“Just one picture, Chey…I-I just need to see her.”

“FIne," I said passing him a picture, "Eve sent it last week."  

The photograph was a small child in a Christmas dress.  The petite little girl couldn't be more than seven or eight years old.  Her bright smile contrasted against her caramel skin and dark brown hair.  Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled.  

"This is her," he said, taking in a deep breath.  He bit his lip as his fingers glazed over the photo, "This is our daughter?  God…she’s getting so big…she-" 

"Yeah," I replied blankly trying to look around the room.  Anywhere but his eyes, "Little Julie Harkness.  That's our baby, Frank." 

Frank rubbed the back of his neck and continued to look at the picture. The two of them had an illicit affair.  One that would have that he broke Sam and Annalise's trust.  

Annalise and Sam had known about their grandchild, but they never acknowledged it as the truth, because they’d never actually seen Cheyanne pregnant.  When she had originally found out, Frank had been running around the country with Annalise and she had been living with Eve.  And while Eve knew that Frank had managed to slip inside the city, and between her daughter’s thighs, neither Sam nor Annalise were willing to ask or encourage the relationship. 

"She has your eyes," I  said, trying to cheer him up, "And your smile." 

He shrugged, "She's got your everything else." 

"She's intuitive, just like her father too."  I agreed.  I walked around the bed and met him at the foot of it. 

Frank looked between his ex-girlfriend and the picture of his daughter.  Cheyanne's hand went over his and he put the picture on the bed.  When his hands were free, he put them up to hold her face, and pulled her to him once more.  There lips melded together as he laid her on the bed.  Without hesitation he slipped her shorts and underwear off before kicking his own pants off.  

"I miss you Chey," he whispered as he entered her, “fuck, I’ve missed you, baby.” 

Chapter 6

[brittanithewriter]

Sid Story

Life After Toys

By

Brittani

            Hello everyone, my name is Sid and I have Ludilophobia. And yes, you heard me right…I fear toys. Please don’t laugh at me for I already feel embarrassed enough. I cannot even look at Barbie dolls without sweating or having a panic attack. That painted smile is so menacing. No thank you, Barbie. Let’s not go party.

            I was not always this way. I used to love toys. Well, I loved to destroy them. In kindergarten, I loved to swap the heads of dolls, placing their arms where their legs would go and placing their legs where their arms would go. My teacher, Mrs. Hines said that I was “scary”, that I made her “uneasy”, and that I had “alarming qualities that one would see on Dateline”, whatever that meant. My mom would just say that I was unique; a curious boy who was just inquisitive about the mechanics of life. Mrs. Hines told her that she should seek help.

            While everyone wanted to be Dr. Doug Ross from ER, I strived to be like Dr. Frankenstein, assembling humanoid creatures through ambiguous means and successfully bringing them to life… or at least pretending to be. I wanted my sister, Hannah to be my assistant, but she was too busy having tea parties with her dolls. Yuck! My first creature was a hand-in-a-box. I found my old Jack-in-the-box in a box in the garage next to my dad’s nudie magazines with women named after drinks and cars. I pulled off the Jack and replaced it with a fake hand we used as a Halloween decoration. The look of horror on Hannah’s face when the weasel popped will forever be a core memory in my brain. Oh, man, she cried like a little weepy baby. All I could do was laugh so hard that my stomach hurt for days. It was all worth it though.

            Another creature of mine comprised of the torso of a pilot action figure my Uncle Earl gave me for my birthday one year right before he passed out drunk on our yard. I nailed the pilot onto a mini skateboard so that he would get from one end of my room to the other with ease. I could tell that my skills were improving. My hands were precious instruments of surgery and one day, I would share my skills with the world. Instead, I settled for the weird kid next door who always dressed like he was in a western. Some afternoons, I would see him from time to time, galloping around his front yard on an invisible horse while wearing that stupid cowboy hat. Though the “yee-haws” I heard from my bedroom window frustrated me to my core, I thought he would be a better assistant than Hannah. Unfortunately, his mother told him to stay clear of me. She was no fun. Even still, I could not remember his name. I think it was something like Randy. I am not sure.

            Eventually, I was able to create my own Frankenstein monster, my glorious creation! I stole one of Hannah’s baby dolls and put its head on an erector set my dad gave me for Christmas. My little spider baby. It was perfect. Hannah told my mother what I did, and I was grounded, ultimately having to see a therapist for a month, but none of that mattered to me. I was a mad doctor! However, I would not be like Victor and run away from my monsters because of their ugliness. I would cherish them… until I eventually blew them up.

            Explosions were my favorite method. Only a little dynamite… for kids. I loved how the toys blew up into pieces and scattered across my backyard like confetti. Even though I knew what was going to happen, every boom felt like a surprise. When I expressed my joy to my therapist, she said it was very concerning as she raised her brow and scribbled a few notes in her little notebook. She was just jealous for she wished she could join in on the fun. What is so concerning about a little boy’s happiness?

            But all that changed that night I went to get some pizza and play video games after my dad had one of his “moments”. When I looked back at it, I questioned why I had to use my last quarter to get those toys from the machine. I should have known that it was too good to be true when the claw grabbed two instead of one. When has that ever happened in the history of the toy claw? Never! But I was only a kid at the time, and when would I ever get the chance to buy two toys for a quarter? At the time, it seemed like a mere dream, a glorious catch of good luck. There it was the most popular spaceman toy at the time amidst the plush green alien toys. It was pristine as though he was right out of the box. At that moment, I did not feel like a mad doctor. I felt astronomical. I felt like NASA. 

            I maneuvered the claw carefully, taking my time so that when it was time to grab. Steady, I was, like a lioness sneaking up upon her prey, ready to pounce. And bam! The claw gripped his folded arm. My eyes lit up and my smile stretched as far as my face would allow. The level of excitement flowed through my body, coursing through my veins and making my skin feel hot. But I had to remain calm. The battle was won, but there was still a war to fight. I took my time, raising the claw slowly. However, there was some resistance. The spaceman was stuck. It felt like I was in a tug-of-war with whatever was underneath the green alien toys. No! This can’t be! I refused to choose defeat. I pulled as hard as I could until finally the spaceman was set free. Finally! But then there he was, dangling from the space boot was that cowboy with his little brown cowboy boots, cowhide vest, sheriff badge, and that darn brown cowboy hat. I could not believe it. How did I get so lucky? Were the toy gods shining down upon me? It sure as heck felt like it. It was a glorious night, for the next day, I was going to send an astronaut into space.

            That night, I ordered a small rocket, but unfortunately, when it was finally delivered, the rain fell and dampened all my plans. One cannot have it all, I guess. A dream deferred was not a dream denied. I refused to allow the weather to rain on my parade. I decided to set the alarm for sunrise. And though I was filled with excitement, I still slept like a baby, eager for the next day. Little did I know what the next day had in store for me.

            A person would not believe me if I told them. If I were to tell this to a soul, they would have thought I was crazy; however, I swear to you that this is true.

            Morning came and the astronaut was strapped up to the rocket, wrapped in duct tape, and ready to go. I took him to the backyard, making sure I made it out there before my parents woke up. My mom had an extra glass of wine, and my dad chugged a six-pack of his favorite beer; therefore, I had until eleven in the morning at the latest. I placed the spaceman right in the middle of the yard, his plastic butt right atop the blades of already burnt grass from the last explosion. The launch time had commenced, the spaceman was ready to go… and then I heard him.

            “Reach for the sky!”, the voice box said from out of nowhere.

            What? I turned around and there was the cowboy by the sandbox. That damn cowboy. I thought he was busted. He had to be broken; the wires inside of him must have malfunctioned somehow because there was no other way. It couldn’t be Hannah because she usually steered clear of me when it was explosion time, in fear that I would blow her precious dollies into smithereens. If was a broken toy, it would soon be my next victim… until he said my name! He knew my name! I was frozen in fear and my body started to tremble. Doubt raced through my mind for I started to question my sanity. At my sweet young age, was I losing my mind? But before I could even wrap my head around it all, suddenly, the toys that I disregarded and destroyed began to rise from the mud and sandbox like in The Night of the Living Dead. The toys were alive!

            Suddenly, my spider baby descended onto my head like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. The hand-in-the-box grabbed me by my ankles. They were all coming for me, ready to punish me for everything that I have done to them. I was frozen in fear, my body trembling, and my mouth agape as I watched the cowboy’s head slowly turn around as I held him in my hand. And with burrowed drawn brow and a menacing tone, he sternly told me to “play nice”. Without any hesitation, I dropped him. They surrounded me, slowly making their way to my feet before I ran into the house, screaming hysterically.

            I told my parents, but they didn’t believe me. My dad just smacked me over the head and told me to stop being weird. Hannah took joy in my misery. To her, it was karma finally biting me in the butt. She would chase me around the house with her dolls in her hands. Sometimes, she would sneak into my room at night and place one of her toys beside my pillow so that when I would wake up, I would scream bloody murder. The first time she did that, I had to change my sheets and flip my mattress before my dad found out. After a month of enjoying my torment, Hannah eventually grew bored of it all and left me alone. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the end of the to my nightmare.

            I threw every toy I had away. Goodbye, spider baby. Goodbye, hand-in-a-box. I never say that cowboy or that spaceman again though. I searched high and low for them, but to no avail. I placed the rest of my toys in a cardboard box and wrapped them completely in duct tape. I would have set them on fire, but I didn’t want to risk the chance of angering them any further. Come trash day, the box was placed beside the trash can and picked up by the sanitation workers. From my window, I watched the garbage men stop briefly in front of my house and dump all our trash into the garbage truck. There was a bit of relief as I watched the garbage truck drive away and disappear around the corner. Unfortunately, my troubles did not end there.

            Over the years, I develop night terrors where I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming to the top of my lungs in a cold sweat. My sheets would be drenched from sweat and just a tiny drop of urine.  My nightmares were always about that darn cowboy with his eyes staring right at me as if staring at me right into my soul. He was always telling me to play nice and that he was watching me. No longer would I sleep with the lights off and from that day on, I slept with a bat underneath my pillow. 

After a while, my parents could no longer take my constant night terrors and the disruption of our house at night. Much to my father’s protest, both of my parents ultimately decided to put me in therapy. Dr. Witherspoon became my therapist for two days a week. He was a bearded middle-aged man with thinning hair that made the top of his head look like a cul-de-sac. As cliché as it sounds, I would lie down on a couch and explain everything that I went through. All he did was nod as he took notes in his notepad, uncrossing and recrossing his legs every few minutes.

            It wasn’t that I disliked Dr. Witherspoon; however, after a month of going to him, the fear remained. I could tell by the look on his face as I talked about the Cowboy Incident, that he thought I was either lying or completely off my rocker. He told my parents that I should be prescribed medication, but I refused. I was not crazy for I knew what I saw. The ordeal played on repeat in my thoughts as though stuck in a loop. From that moment on, I refused to attend a birthday party, even though none of my classmates ever invited me in the first place. For Christmas, I urged my parents for gift cards instead of the latest, hottest toy out that year. No more Mattel, goodbye to Toys-R-Us. Only children played with toys and at that moment, I no longer wanted to be a child. After two months, I quit therapy and journeyed on my path of seeking help.

            During my junior year in high school, I dropped out and obtained my GED. I tossed my dreams of becoming a mad scientist away like a used napkin and started working for the Tri-County Sanitation Department. I was going to be a garbage man… and I didn’t mind that. Sure, I smelled like trash and the smell trap itself into every fiber of my clothes; however, the pay was nice, and I get to listen to my music all day. And the best part was that the toys we came across were already too broken and decrepit to even attack me. If they were to try, I had the landfill’s incinerator on my side. It was perfect. There was no need for me to go to college like my classmates, wasting my time as I buried my head in books and being bored out of my mind. Garbage was all I needed in my life, and I was happy.

            It would be a lie to say that my newfound happiness cured me of this inexplicable fear of a child’s plaything. There were moments I struggled every time I walked past the toy aisle of a store. Every doll, every action figure; my skin would become hot, and my palms would start to sweat. My heart would quicken its pace every time a “try me” was pressed by every curious child and parent. Toys were no longer a part of my life anymore. And that was ok.

            Sid stood in front of the members of his support group after he finished telling his story, met with supportive and sympathetic eyes. The counselor stood up from his chair with half a smile on his face.

            “Thank you for sharing that with us, Sid.” The counselor said.

            The rest of the group agreed, nodding their heads, and softly clapping their hands in encouragement. Sid smiled as he stared around the circle. There is a slight feeling of relief after he spoke his truth and shared his story. There was no shame or looks of judgment, only understanding.

            “So, who is next?” The counselor asked.

Betty, the two-time divorcee raised her hand. Her phobia was for pickles. Sid sat down to make way for her to tell her story, a story that she had told several times before. Each time was an encounter she had with a pickle at a restaurant. All she needed to do was to stop eating out, but everyone already accepted the fact that her problems were more of an addiction to wanting attention than getting through her phobia. However, wasn’t that why everyone was there? 

Each person came once a week to sit amongst others and gain sympathy for a weird defect that they had, while they reveled in the euphoria of being heard and not judged. Finally, Sid found his tribe. With them, he wasn’t seen as crazy or urged to seek professional help. To them, Sid’s phobia was something real and not some sad joke from a pathetic man. They took him seriously.

            Eight o’clock on a Friday evening hit and the weekly meeting ended. Everyone went around and gave each other their goodbye hugs and handshakes, promising to keep in touch until their next meeting the following week. Betty stopped Sid on his way to the exit. The gentle touch of his arm, her sheepish grin, and her struggle to make eye contact only confirmed the crush Sid already knew she had for him.

“You know, when I was a little girl, I could have sworn my toys were moving around while I slept,” Betty said, “I swear I would leave my Barbie on the floor only for her to end up right beside me on the bed. So… I guess we have something in common.”

“Uh, I guess so,” Sid said.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Saved by the bell. It was Hannah. This was the first time Sid was happy to hear from her. Their sibling relationship was not the greatest. Due to his constant bullying of her as a kid and her tormenting him after a traumatic experience, their relationship was a bit on the estranged side. They would see each other for Christmas and birthdays, but that was as far as their relationship would go.

“You will have to excuse me. It’s my sister,” Sid told Betty, “Family matters.”

“Of course, I understand,” Betty said with a disappointed tone.

Sid exited and started to walk to his car. Thank God and thank you, Hannah.

“Hannah? What’s up?” Sid answered the phone.

“Hey.” Hannah greeted, “I was calling you to remind you about your nephew’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“I don’t need to be reminded. I remembered.” Sid said, “Noon,  right?”

“Right.” Hannah answered, “So, don’t be late. And don’t forget a gift.”

“I have the perfect gift in mind already.”

“Please don’t get him another puzzle,” Hannah groaned, “I’m still finding pieces from the last one you bought him all around the house.”

            Darn. That was exactly what he was going to give to him. Thank goodness he saved the receipt for back to Target he will go.

            “What about a gift card?” Sid asked.

            “He is seven years old, for goodness’ sake. Just buy him a toy!” Hannah argued.

            Sid froze as a chill ran through his body like blood coursing through his veins at the sheer utter of that three-letter word. Was Hannah insane? After over fifteen years, Sid wondered why his sister could be so oblivious and insensitive.

            “Hannah, are you serious?” Sid asked in disbelief, “You know I can’t do that!”

            “Are you still on that, Sid?” Hannah asked with a slight chuckle, “You’re a grown man still being misled by his imagination. I thought it was funny when we were younger, but now, it is just plain sad.”

            Hannah was right, it indeed was, and Sid knew that. He was a grown man scared of things that brought little children joy. Even his nephew had more courage and bravery than he did. But to Sid’s defense, neither one of them experienced what he went through that day, for if they did, they would never even look in the same direction of another toy again. The thought of going through the aisles caused him to sweat profusely. That scary moment of his childhood flashed through his mind, replaying in his head as if stuck in a horrible loop.

            “Sid?” Hannah called out, “Are you there?”

            Sid snapped back to reality. He loved his nephew very much for he reminded him of a younger, yet better version of himself. Instead of destroying toys and wreaking havoc, his nephew loved to build things and make them better. He loved to play with them and create worlds with him in his imagination. Unlike Sid, his nephew loved toys.

            “I’m here.” Sid finally answered, “I will get him a toy. I promise.”

            “Great,” Hannah said.

            “What kind of toys does he like?” Sid asked.

            “Well, lately, he’s been horses,” Hannah replied.

            Both hung up the phone. And it begins.

            The next morning right, before the birthday party, Sid drove to Target for going to Walmart crossed his mind; however, there was something about the red store that gave him an enormous amount of comfort. The aisles were clean with the inventory stacked neatly and organized with polite customers and helpful employees.  But Sid refused to go in. He remembered what happened the last time he walked past the toy aisle. He immediately became dizzy and passed up, waking up in the back of an ambulance. Now, thanks to technology, Sid no longer had to deal with anxieties. All he needed was an app and he could make a  pick-up order.   However, the hard part was not over for he still had to scroll through the toys on the app and find the perfect horse toy. It was agonizing, but he finally found the right one. He placed it in the cart, paid, and scheduled a pick-up time for an hour from now.

            Sid parked on the side of the store in parking space #3. He checked in through the app, letting them know his parking space number and the color of his car. After a minute or two, an employee came out with the toy in a large Target bag with his name placed right in front. Sid unlocked the doors so that the employee could put the bag in the backseat. Sid watched the bag from the rearview mirror like a hawk. Every few seconds, he would take his eyes off the road as he drove and stared back at it. Sid waited anxiously in anticipation, for if that toy was to move in just the slightest, he was prepared to swerve the car off the road. It was that serious to Sid.

            He made it to Hannah’s house, thankfully without incident. The bag never moved once. As he went to grab the bag from the backseat, he froze again. His arms reached to grab it, but his hand refused to touch. Sweat began to form from the top of his forehead and slowly trail down the side of his head. The beating of his heart started to quicken. It was a panic attack. Sid was having a panic attack at his seven-year-old nephew’s birthday party. Pathetic.

            “Sid?” a female’s voice called out.

            Sid turned to see Hannah standing in the doorway of her front door. Hannah looked at her older brother oddly.

            “What are you doing, Sid?” Hannah asked.

            With a deep breath and a quick count of three, Sid hastily grabs the bag. He turned around and held it up for Hannah to see, smiling with both fear and pride.

            “I bought him a toy,” Sid said.

            Hannah could not believe her eyes as she took a step back in disbelief. Hannah smiled for it was the first and only time she had ever given her older brother one. Usually, the expression on her face was always contempt and disgust, but she was impressed by his redemption for her son’s birthday party. She wondered if maybe he was becoming a better person.

            “Well, come on. The party already started.” Hannah waved him inside. 

            Sid’s mind was racing a mile a minute as he walked from his car to the front door, his peripheral vision focused on the top of the toy horse’s head as it peeked out of the bag. One wrong move and he was going to lunge that bag like a football and send it to the county line. Nothing. 

Once he reached the front door, there was an awkward moment about whether the two siblings should hug or not. They decided on a handshake. There was no need to change up interactions for the occasion.

            “I’m glad you could come,” Hannah said as she and Sid entered her house, her closing the door behind her.

            Those words hit Sid at his heartstrings, for in his thirty-something years of living, never had anyone uttered anything remotely close to that to him. Most of the time, they would try to avoid him at all costs. It felt nice to feel wanted.

            “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Sid replied.

He could hear children laughing and adults talking to one another from the back of the house. There was happiness in the air, along with the aroma of pizza and hot dogs.  The anxiety left Sid’s body and a calmness came over him. Maybe he was over this fear. Maybe it was him that kept phobia alive and allowed it to control his life.  Hannah led Sid to the kitchen and dining room in the house. Just as Sid turned the corner, the smile he entered the home with quickly fell. From the balloons to the streamers to the banner that read “Howdy, Timmy. Happy Birthday!”, it was a western-themed party. Hannah decorated the dining room as though it was a saloon. All the children were dressed like cowboys, running around, and shooting their fake toy guns as though they were in a shootout. 

The Target bag fell from Sid’s hand and onto the floor. This was his nightmare. Suddenly, Timmy ran up to him. Timmy wore a red and yellow checkered long-sleeved collar shirt, a cowhide vest, blue jeans, brown boots, a brown cowboy hat, and a red bandana tied around his neck. He was the epitome of the thing that haunted Sid for all those years, the thing that plagued his nightmares and the reason that holding that Target bag was excruciating agony for him.

“Yay, Uncle Sid,” Timmy said excitedly, “you came.”

Before Sid could reply, he found himself screaming at top of his lungs and running around, tearing down the banner and streamers, popping the balloons, and making all the children cry. He was a madman, crazed and manic. All he could hear was the cowboy’s voice telling him to play nice. Sid refused. No more playing nice. It took two dads to stop him right before he could damage the cake with the little cowboy holding a lasso on top.

            Sid was not invited to any more birthday parties after that. Hannah threw away the horse he bought for Timmy and severed all ties with him. It was most likely for the best.

“Hello, my name is Sid and I have Ludilophobia.” Sid said to the group.

            “Hi, Sid.” The group replied.

[dollsonmain]

[unhappy] Story time!

So, back in Ye Olden AOL days, there were pre-made chat rooms for different cities and stuff and you’d get your regulars. I was a regular, everyone else knew I was a kid.

Around that time I found out my mother was having an affair with this dude named Barry, and I found out because AOL was set up in such a way that you could read someone’s emails without logging in if they’d set up their profile to allow that (you’d select their profile from the log in splash page and click a button or something and you could get into emails they’d already read but nothing new IIRC) and I guess my mom had set that up. I was a nosy little weasel that got into everything and went and read her emails (and got in her purse where she had compromising photos of her with some guy who may or may not have been Barry, fuck if I know, and the cigarettes she totally was not smoking, she was just holding them for someone (¬_¬ )).

My step-dad had been suspicious of her having an affair for a while because she kept randomly “working late” and he’d ask me now and then but I had no idea up until that point.

I confronted the dude because she’d broken it off and he was pushing her to get back together with him. I remember threatening him that if he ever contacted my mom again, I’d tell my step-dad.

He did contact her again and she talked to me about it and begged me not to tell dad. I wanted to, though, because I hated that man and would be very happy if they were to get a divorce and I’d not have to live with him anymore.

I also told my mom how I got into her emails and how to disable the no-login email thing.

Anyway I’m sitting in the chat room one evening, and Barry pops in. Apparently he was a regular, too, just at different times than me. I was on in the afternoons and most of the adults at night.

I went quiet and watched him for a bit. He was pretty gross, really, just in general. Like flirty but in a very uncomfortable, heavy handed way.

I remember I sat and waited and at one point I said “This is the kind of man my mother is having an affair with? I thought she had better taste than that.” (which, I mean, I knew she didn’t, she did date my father and married my step-dad).

I remember the chat went silent, and after a bit Barry left without saying anything. Everyone else was like WHAT. WAS THAT. Don’t know if Barry ever came back to the chat.

-

They’re still married somehow, even though I’ve always hated my step-dad (he’s an asshole and would use his size to intimidate and physically hurt me to keep me in line), and she kind of doesn’t like him much these days, either.

I wonder how dolphinguy and tinka are doing sometimes. Don’t remember anyone else, really.

-

Just remembered another story about my mom!

So this one time she just vanished with my little brother, didn’t say they were leaving I came out of my room and the house was empty, didn’t say where she was going, and didn’t come back. She could do this because my step-dad was both an EMT and fireman and would be away for blocks of a few days at a time. I was very worried. It was pre-cell-phone times so it’s not like I could have called or texted her.

1am she finally comes home skunk drunk and I’m like where’s my baby brother!? I was DISTRAUGHT.

He was at my aunt’s house.

But mom and I got in a big fight, she pushed me, I went to my room and she followed me, took my depression meds and flushed them (cold turkey quit, baybee! followed by 6 years of withdrawal symptoms!) picked up a bag of garbage and flung it all around my room, and then called the cops to come and take me away and told me to pack a bag because I wouldn’t be coming back.

The police showed up and were like “She’s drunk, you’re just a kid... Stay away from each other for the night, we’re not taking you anywhere.” They asked about my room because she had told them I was a slob like that and I had to tell them that no, I’m messy but not like THIS, she did this.

And then I went to my trashed room and cried, but she came down and took away a teddy bear I’d been given that was made with her late mother’s coat. Then she went to bed and I spent the night cleaning my room, because it was covered in literal garbage. Moldy food and......

In the morning she gave me the bear back and didn’t say anything and that was it.

-

Same mom that used to throw away everything I owned from time to time to try to scare me into being tidy.

-

It’s no wonder that I didn’t turn to her for help when I needed it back in 2005 to get away from That Guy. I’ve been trying to escape him since then and failing.

She still was like, to my son, “If you need a place to go you can come to my house. Oh. You, too.” flippantly, offhand as an afterthought to me.

So.

I’m happy that Son has a fallback if he needs it, but I don’t think I would ever go back there even now.

[trantrumsfromthevoid]

Cullen birth order

@panlight asked about the “birth order” of the Cullen kids and as someone who’s immensely fascinated by such things, I figured I’d throw in my two cents.  To see Panlight’s original post (and to what I’m referencing), click here.

Edward is the oldest but also possesses the unique quality of being the “black sheep” solely in the sense that he doesn’t act like the oldest.  He’s the kind of oldest brother who eshewed his inheritance and the prestige of the family name and instead lives in Bali as a macramé street artist.  That kind of oldest sibling energy.

Rosalie is the oldest.  She simply screams “oldest child energy.”  No one’s ever questioned her, it’s simply been an unspoken rule when deciding these things.  Rosalie is the oldest child.  She’s the one who organizes the yearly Christmas card and in the eighties she came up with a cute little skit to be left on the answering machine by all the “kids” (complete with handwritten scripts for everyone), etc etc.  When shit hits the fan and Carlisle or Esme are nowhere to be found, you look to Rosalie.  

Alice is the rare middle child who doesn’t suffer from “mild child syndrome.”  She has no problem “taking” orders from Rosalie but she’s also totally fine doing her own thing.  She’s all about that ~cohesive family unit~ and keeping said dynamic balanced.  Which she also, for some reason, believes is up to her to keep together.  Which means occasionally she has to have a slice of humble pie and that’s (mostly) fine by her.

Emmett screams baby brother energy.  The long awaited “male savior” of the family who was born after several tries — ie, he has, like, four older sisters.  That kind of “baby brother” energy.  But this also means that he has free reign to do absolutely whatever the hell he wants and gets away with it.  The unspoken favorite of both mom and dad, and probably even the siblings — though his antics do get on their nerves occasionally and he needs to be reminded of his place in the ~cohesive family unit~ from time-to-time.

Jasper is that ex-boyfriend who just kinda, weaseled, his way into the family and now he’s in Christmas cards and is invited to vacations and is expected at weekly family dinners, etc.  No one can really say for sure when he moved from “ex-boyfriend” to “adopted brother” but he’s now a permanent fixture in the ~cohesive family unit~.  He blends well with the oldest sibling, able to see things from the logical-brained oldest child viewpoint, but is also able to let loose with the baby brother when he feels like tensions begin to rise.

And if you wanna add Bella and Renaissance into the mix ...

Bella is the first cousin whose parents unfortunately passed away when she was eight and was taken in by her aunt and uncle.  She was the long awaited child for her parents but was also expected to entertain herself and not make waves within her ~not quite as cohesive family unit~, so she possesses an odd mix of being extremely independent and extremely sensitive.  She’s not really sure how she fits into the ~cohesive family unit~ (even after all these years as part of it) and still has to be asked to go on vacations and her opinions and is extremely guarded with her beliefs, only divulging them to Emmett (who’s just happy for the attention) and black sheep Edward (who, again, is just happy to have a little attention thrown his way).  She has a “healthy respect” (slash fear?) of Rosalie and will cower to whatever Rosalie says, even if Bella disagrees.

Résumé is the last child, born at least ten years after the youngest.  Some might call her an “oops baby” and/or the “surprise child”, born during a period when mom truly thought she was “too old” to have children.  She, surprisingly, sometimes clashes with baby brother Emmett in that she diverts his attention, at least unintentionally and he’s secretly a little jealous to be dethroned of his title as the baby.  But at the end of the day, everyone is immensely protective of her.  Even baby brother Emmett who takes an “only I can beat you up and if anyone else tries I’ll kill them” attitude.  Rosalie is likened to Remix’s “second mother” and she’s probably closer to Rosalie than her actual mother because it was up to Rosalie (as the oldest) to help “aging” mom care for Repetition, who at this point was burned out by having so many children.

[winterscaptain]

players.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it's loving haley hotchner hours!! hope you enjoy :) as always, let me know what you think!

words: 1.3k warnings: none

summary: “what is that unforgettable line?” - samuel beckett. au!november 2008

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Has Aaron ever told you how we met?” 

“I know you two met in high school, but that’s about the extent of it.” 

Haley laughs and puts her drink down. “You’re in for a real treat, then. Come with me.” 

It’s one of those afternoons in which Aaron’s taken Jack to go have some fun for a little while, leaving you and Haley at the house. It’s been nice to rest while your shoulder slowly knits together again, nice to chat and channel surf. Really, it’s been nice to have a friend at all. 

She leads you to the garage, where built-ins support stacked boxes all the way to the rafters. There’s so much stuff. A few boxes are on the floor, packed with a few George Washington University sweatshirts, a law textbook, and a few framed photos of Jack. 

You’d hazard a guess that’s close to the last box Aaron has here. 

Haley bypasses it in favor of a more aged box on the back. She becomes you over and unearths it, opening it. You are by no means prepared for what awaits you. 

The box is full of faded framed photos and stacked scrapbooks, some with Haley’s handwriting on the front and others with typeset. Haley pulls one scrapbook in particular, the pages warped with age and stuffed with various momentos. 

“This is the first one I ever made, starting the spring of my freshman year of high school. Aaron shows up…” She flips through the pages. They crackle under her fingers. “...here.” 

She turns the book and you take it in your hand, balancing the bottom while she bears the weight. As always, her thoughtful conscientiousness almost brings a smile to your face. 

In the scrapbook, little polaroids litter one side, while the other has a playbill cover. A “Players” page is pasted in, with two names left uncovered by doodles. 

Haley Renee Brooks

Aaron Hotchner 

One of the photos catches your eye. “Is that…?” 

“Aaron in tights and a pirate hat? Yes.” 

This is gold. 

You bring the book closer to you and flip through it carefully with Haley’s help, finding more evidence of Aaron’s brief stint as a thespian. He’s undeniably adorable as a teenager. He looks different, of course, but between the hair and the eyes - 

And that smile 

You recognize the man you’ve come to know. 

Haley, of course, is also adorable. The mid-eighties look cute on her. She looks mostly the same as she does now. Her jawline is more defined, the beginnings of smile lines starting to form around her eyes and mouth, but those are only indicators of the twenty-five years between the photo and the woman before you. 

“If you tell him I showed you this, no I didn’t.” 

You laugh, passing the book back to her. “Scout’s Honor. Total silence. I will, however, require copies of these for blackmail purposes.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Over my dead body, darling.” 

You look around for a moment before asking. “So… what exactly does that have to do with how you met?” 

“I prefer the way he tells it,” she says, “because when I tell it I look like I’m padding my ego, but…”

Her blue eyes wander as she tells you about the boy who landed in the wrong classroom on August 20th, 1985 at 2:13pm, as if she’s seeing it as she’s telling the story. Maybe she is. 

The nameless senior was tall, lanky, and looked rather brittle. He hadn’t grown into his limbs yet and there’s a hawkish look in his eye. He met Haley’s curious gaze. She smiled at him. 

It’s only a moment before the boy leaves for the right classroom. 

“He had the building number wrong. It’s no surprise, really. Our schedules were copied by hand, as copy machines were expensive. The guidance counselor’s handwriting was nearly illegible, but it sealed our fates.” 

She goes on to tell you that the boy came back the next day, enrolled in the class for the duration of the semester. 

“He then, bravely, became the worst third pirate in the history of theatre just to impress me.” She pauses, a little pensive. “He told me a couple of years ago that the day came into the wrong classroom was the same day he knew he was going to marry me.” 

The admission brings a flush to her cheeks and a fond smile to her lips. You can see the affection written all over her as she recalls the memory. She shakes her head and puts the scrapbook back, closing the box and leading you out of the garage. 

“We started dating when the show closed. It was silly, of course, and very high school, as relationships went. We only kept going because he was so close for college - just over the bridge into the district.” 

You follow her back into the house. “Did you guys ever break up?” 

She snorts. “All the time.” 

That makes you laugh. You can hardly picture it. 

“I’m sure you can imagine how rational and reasonable I was at sixteen,” she says, her voice full of jest. “I put him through hell, but Aaron was always impossibly patient with me, even and especially when I didn’t deserve it.” 

“Really?”

“Really. I know he’s probably...not that way at work, but even through all of this -” she gestures vaguely to the air around you and you know she means the divorce. “- he’s always been that way with me.” 

You’ve seen Hotch at home now more than a few times and it’s been illuminating to see the changes in him as he crosses the threshold. Reconciling those differences in him, knowing Haley better, it all paints a layered, detailed portrait of someone you already care about. 

Haley catches your attention again when she speaks. “I’m glad he has people watching out for him.” There’s a strange, almost sad, smile on her face. “He gets lonely.” 

+++

When Aaron pulls up in the driveway, you and Haley are stuck watching whatever movie you landed on when you got to talking, too attached to give it up. 

The door opens and Aaron sets Jack on his feet, helping him with the tiny zipper on his coat before attending to his own. 

“How was your day, boys?” Haley gets up and goes to the kitchen, where you know a little tupperware full of cut fruit waits for Jack.

You offer him a little wave as he catches sight of you and processes your presence. Hey. 

“Well,” he says. “How was your day, Jack? Want to tell Mom about it?” 

The pass-off is funny to you, but you suspect Aaron doesn’t want to oversell it. 

“So fun!” He runs and jumps onto the couch as Haley rounds the corner. 

Her eyes are bright, animated, when she asks, “What did you and Daddy do?” She sits next to her son, her feet pulled under her as she leans on the back of the couch. 

As Jack relays the events of the afternoon, there’s an odd moment when Aaron catches himself. He reaches down to ruffle Haley’s hair, but freezes with his hand outstretched. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you almost feel bad for catching him at all. 

HIs hand closes and he shoves it into his pocket before he sits down in the armchair beside your end of the couch with a sigh. You pretend to be completely focused on Jack, so as to not embarrass him. 

“So,” he asks you. You turn. “How was your day?” 

There’s a moment where you share a little look, maybe even a laugh. 

“Good. My day was good.” 

“Good.” 

+++

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[i-write-newsies]

A/N:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

(H/C) - Hair Color

(D/N) - DEEZ NUTS!! /j Deadname

(E/C) - Eye Color

(H/L) - Hair Length

(Y/A) - Your Age

Ships Included:

- Jack x Davey

- Spot x Race

- Finch x Smalls (Platonic)

- Albert x Elmer

-Katherine x Sarah

- Spot x Reader (Brotherly Platonic)

- Race x Reader (Brotherly Platonic)

Summary:

You have always dreamed of living in the world of your favorite characters, to escape from whatever rotten life you have and make friends with the people you love. One day, fate decides to give you a chance. But when you're not prepared to be rushed into that universe, it becomes a roller coaster of balancing good and bad emotions and events.

Good luck, Reader!

!!TW!!

~ SELF HARM

~ TRANSPHOBIA

~ MAJOR INJURY

~ ABUSE

~ ARGUING

(Y/N) POV:

I'm (Y/N) (L/N). I'm (Y/A) with (E/C) eyes and (H/L) (H/C) hair. At least it used to be (H/L). I cut it all off today. I can tell my mom just found out because of the loud cursing and stomping. "GODDAMMIT, (D/N)!!" she yells. What scares me the most about this situation is the fact that I'm kinda used to this. I hear her coming up the stairs to my room and rush to the door and lock it. As expected, the door handle starts rattling violently, "(D/N) YOU LET ME IN RIGHT NOW, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SH!T!" She starts banging on the door, stressing the lock.

I sigh. Today was one of the worse days. I slip on my noise-canceling headphones and press play on my musicals playlist, consisting of:

- Waving Through A Window

- On My Own

- A Little Fall Of Rain

- Angel of Music

and of course...

The entire Newsies soundtrack.

By the time I get to 'Seize the Day', it's twilight outside. I lift one of my headphones to check if my mom is gone. I hear nothing. I look out the window and don't see her car. Perfect.

Unplugging my headphones and letting the music play, I walk over to my dresser, open it up, and reach deep in the back. Aha!

I pull out some bandages (A/N: DO NOT ACTUALLY BIND LIKE THIS OK BYE). I take off my shirt and try not to look in my mirror, fearing what sort of feminine body I may see. I start wrapping my chest to the point that it gets a little hard to breathe. This kinda hurts, but my dysphoria is stronger than my need for comfort and, let's be honest, safety.

Slipping my shirt back on, I look into the mirror and smile, satisfied with my flat chest and somewhat choppy short, (H/C) hair. I jump onto my bed and plug my headphones back into my phone which is now playing Santa Fe. Santa Fe honestly makes me think. I'm only, what, (Y/A)? And I still go through all this BS. I need out. Somewhere my mom can't tell me I'm female. Somewhere like...Newsies. I mean, Race is canonically trans, right? Not to mention all of them are definitely fruity. They'd accept me. The fresh, bandaged cuts on my arms are the only things keeping me in reality right now

As the song ends, I realize that I've been crying. God, why am I stuck in this wretched place? The question as well as thoughts of Newsies reverberates in my skull, a sort of white noise until I fall into a much-needed sleep.

"Aye, kid! Watcha doin sleepin on the street?"

"Especially in a place this..."

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Jack POV:

I yawn, rubbing sleep from my eyes as the circulation bell drones on an' on. I let my eyes adjust to the view of the sunrise from my penthouse in the sky.

As I try to get up to get ready, a pair of arms drag me back down. "Jackieeee" a half-awake Davey groans, "come back down, it's freezing up here." "Dave, we gotta get to work. The boys can always count on me being at the gates early, so if you don't get up, I'm leaving you behind." This seems to wake him up a little more, "Alright, alright fine." he shivers as he gets up. I throw him his top shirt and vest and he desperately claws them on to gain warmth. Carefully, we climb down the ladder.

"What'd I tell ya, Dave? Even in the middle of summer, the night's always freezing." Davey rolls his eyes and does a little shiver "I know, Jackie, now c'mere and warm me up" I grin and move in closer, holding his hand, as we start walking to the gates. "Still not warm enough!" Davey said in a singsong-ish voice. I sigh and feign annoyance, leaning in to give a short but sweet peck on the lips. I think he's satisfied now. We're not usually this lovey-dovey, but I think we're both touch starved and subtly begging for a hug.

Davey, being the amazing boyfriend he is, stops by Jacobis to get us some breakfast. "Dave, you really don't hafta-" "I insist, Jack. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he says in an almost snobbish voice. I give him a small smile. That's my smartass Dave.

As we get to the gates, I notice a small figure leaned up against it. By now, the sun has come up some more over Manhattan 'n Dave 'n I don't have to walk as close to warm ourselves up. The figure seems to be sleeping, a newsies cap over their eyes. I think it's a kid. Maybe a new newsie looking for work?

I crouch down in front of him lift his hat, and start tapping his shoulder, "Aye, kid! Watcha doin sleepin on the street?" "Especially in a place this..." Davey notes. The kid seems to wake with a start. He rubs his eyes, and I chuckle a little "Whatsa matter? Ya look like youse seen a ghost." He doesn't seem to find this funny and repeatedly switches from looking at me then Davey with some confusion and shock in his eyes.

"I um-" he stutters over his words, "Aye, aye, kid, calm down, you ain't in trouble or nuttin." He takes a few deep breaths. "Okay... I'm (Y/N). I'm just freaking out because This isn't where I fell asleep, and- and I just- feel like I know you..." "Well, (Y/N) it sounds like you're one of da Newsies now," I say with a grin, "Now, we gots ta give you a nickname, we rarely eva call someone by their real name, 'cept Dave 'n Albert of course," The kid stays silent, clearly still shocked from waking up in a foreign place. "I feel like I know you.." he says, barely discernible. "Maybe ya do, maybe ya don't, Dave here's the only one good with faces." The kid looks up at Davey, who seems deep in thought, "(N/N)" he exclaims, "Ah, sorry, what I meant was your nickname should be (N/N)!" "I like it! But why (N/N) exactly?" I question, "Well, *insert reason why here*" "Well ain't you a clever boy, Dave!" I say, ruffling his hair. Davey shies away, "Jack! Now I have to fix my hair!" he complains, "Sorry, sorry." Davey then leaves to fix his hair in front of a shop window nearby, leaving me and (N/N) alone.

(N/N) seems to want to say something, but as soon as he opens his mouth, he shuts it just as quickly. I try to fill the awkward silence, "So, what's wit' da bandages, kiddo?" He freezes, "Nothing, just a ploy to get people to buy more papes..." he trails off. I have a feelin' he's not tellin' the truth, but I go along with it anyway, "Ha! What an idea, I wonder how I neva thought a' that before." he smiles, seeming satisfied with the praise. Davey returns from the shop window, "Alright! Ready to start the day?" (N/N) nods, and so do I.

Newsies start gathering, some glancing at (N/N) and some anxiously peering through the gates. I look at the headline for today: New Newsie Price! "Aye, Dave, you seein' this shit?" "Language- and yeah... what in the world was runnin' through Pulitzer's head when he thought of this??" I look at (N/N), whose mouth is a thin, pale line but whose (E/C) eyes are glinting with determination. "Heh, kid, what's that look for?" He looks at me, a little startled, but quickly regains that same tough expression, "I have a feeling that this ain't some silly little joke. And I'm worried 'bout the kids that may get hurt in the crossfire." I laugh, "Youse just bein dramatic! Surely, they wouldn't be as dumb as to underpay their own employees." I walk over to Weasel and slap down a penny "100 papes please!" "That's gonna be dime, Kelly."

My heart almost stops, and it takes all my strength not to break down in front of the boys. I fake a laugh, "Surely you're joking." "100 papes costs a dime, take a look at the headline." I hit the money box out of anger, "Then we'll just take our business to Brooklyn." Someone pipes up, "The same thing's happenin' there." "Then we'll go to Rushing!" Specs jogs over, seemingly out of breath, "I'll save ya the walk; it's the same everywhere."

Fuck.

Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω

Y/N POV:

A sharp pain in my chest temporarily distracts me from the situation at hand. Ah. I almost forgot. I still have to bind. This sucks. I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn just in time to see Racetrack Higgins avert his eyes. I give him a confused look and turn back to Jack singing "The World Will Know" I forget all about his weird staring and get back into the determined beat from before.

Soon, the newsies and I make our way to Jacobis for some...water I guess? I do happen to have some extra money in my pocket so I think I can treat all the boys to some seltzer. I sit down on a hard wooden chair in a slouch. The room is buzzing with excited talk of the strike. I give a small, sad smile. These boys have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Crutchie sits next to me serving a wide smile just as Jacobi enters with a tray full of waters, "And here's one for you, and for you, and for you- who's the big spender that ordered everyone seltzer?" shyly, I raise my hand, "That's me, sir." "You know these cost a quarter each, right?" I pull out a handful of quarters with a cheeky smile "and I got more where that came from." The boys go wild, "Where did ya get all that money, kid??" Davey, being the concerned mom, asks "Please tell me you didn't steal that." I shake my head, "I used to live comfortably, but my mom kicked me out for...reasons." my grin falters for a second, but no one seems to notice.

"Well!" Jack stands on a table, "Here's to the strike! And, of course, (N/N)" He gestures towards me with a wink as everyone cheers. As Katherine enters, I start to zone out and stare at a speck of dust on the ground. After all, I know the plot all too well. I perk up, though, as soon as Jack asks who's goin' to Brooklyn. My hand shoots up, "I nominate me and Race!" I exclaim. I look over at Race, who's staring at me, blushing and jaw dropped a little. I grin at him and look back at Jack, who's a little shocked. "A-alright! Me and Dave'll take the Bronx, I guess."

*Timeskip to after the restaurant scene*

I walk down the Manhatten alleys blindly, no clue where I'm going, when I hear someone come up behind me. "Hey, (N/N)! It's me, Race." I smile weakly, "Oh, hey." "I always sell my papes at Sheepshead in Brooklyn, so I know where to go."

It's almost completely silent except for the clicking of our shoes on the paved roads. "So... how'd ya get here as a Newsie, (N/N)?" "Well, Jack 'n Davey found me sleepin' on the street just this mornin'" He laughs, "Wow! So you got used to the Newsie life real quick!" "Yeah, I did.." I let out a small chuckle as well. Race pulls out a cigar and clamps it between his lips and goes to light it but hesitates. "Uh- Wanna cigar?" "Wow, Racetrack Higgins giving me one of his own cigars? I'm flattered!" I joke, "But, yeah, I need smoke." He digs into his pocket and hands me another cigar, "You eva' smoked before?" he stares at me as I put the cigar in between my lips. I grin sheepishly, "No." "Okay, maybe we should stop for a second. Coughing while walking ain't the most fun thing in the woild."

We lean up against a wall as Race lights first his, then my cigar. I inhale and immediately spiral into a coughing fit. Race smacks my back, "You good, (N/N)? I ain't neva' seen a fella cough that hard on the first puff." I roll my tear-filled eyes and continue coughing.

Once my coughing fit subsides, I feel a wave of relaxation. "God I should do this more often." I groan, Race grins, "Yeah, once you get past the whole blowin'-your-brains-out part of smokin', it's real nice. Anyway, shall we continue?" he gestures to the streets ahead. I nod my head and take another puff, "Yeah, it's gettin' kinda late and we do NOT wanna wake up the Spot Conlon." Race nods in agreement and we hurry along. Even though I know Spot is kind of a softie, that doesn't stop me from being intimidated by his prowess.

We reach the Brooklyn lodging just as Race's cigar burned out. Race takes a deep breath and gives three solid knocks on the door. A kid younger than me answers the door, "State ya business" "I'm here to let Conlon know about some very important news." The kid squints his eyes but responds "I'll ask him if he's willing to meet with anyone right now. Who should I tell him is askin'?" "Race. Higgins." He says somewhat awkwardly.

The kid closes the door. Race and I stand quietly waiting for the OK to see Spot. Suddenly the door swings open to reveal Spot. "Ra-" he notices me and coughs, "I mean- Higgins, would you like to step in to discuss the important news?" I almost laugh at the way he went from totally in love to distinguished gentleman. I shoo them away, holding in laughter, "don't worry, I'll wait out here and give you lovebirds some space." (A/N: or should I say sprace) I see them both go tomato red.

I sigh as they head inside. I take a drag from the cigar and start thinking. How did I end up in the newsies universe and act this calm about it? This feels so surreal. But I want to stay here forever. Far away from my sh!tty mom and all my responsibilities.

Lost in my own head, I barely notice as Racetrack storms out of the lodging, clearly pissed. "C'mon (N/N), we're leaving." he grabs my hand and angrily powerwalks to the next street over. Once we're there, he lets go of my hand and sighs harshly, walking slow. "I assume it didn't go well?" I ask, already knowing the answer. "Not. Well." "Wanna talk about it?" he shakes his head and starts walking "No, thanks. I think we's better get to bed before Jack gets worried." he stops. "Do you have a place to sleep?" I look down, "Not really..." "Well!" he grabs my hand again with a big grin, "Looks like youse bunkin' wit' me." I start to protest, but realize it'd get me nowhere with this stubborn SOB, so I let myself get dragged along. Oh, well. I might as well get rest for the strike tomorrow, goodness knows I need it.

As I settle down into the rough sheets, the gentle snoring rocks me to sleep with thoughts of the strike. One thought flashes through my mind before I fall asleep; God help us all.

I wake up to someone poking my face. My eyes flutter open and I almost fall off the bunk at the sight of Race's face right in front of mine. "JESUS CHRIST, RACE, YOU SCARED THE SH!T OUTTA ME!" He backs off, putting his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, sorry, it's just that Jack said you had to be up and out in 10 minutes so we can have an organized strike or whateva'" Race rolls his eyes, "I'm startin' ta think that Davey's rubbin' off on 'im a lil' too much."

I groan, tempted to slide back under the covers, but get up anyway. I slept with my clothes on so I don't have to do anything about that. As I look into an old, rusted mirror and comb my fingers through my now tangled hair, I feel another sharp pain in my chest, accompanied by a dull throbbing. I really should have taken off the bandages while I slept, but now it's too late. I take one last look in the mirror and, ignoring my eyebags, quickly head out the door to join the others. As I get to the gate, everyone's waiting with anticipation, faces grim but hopeful.

Everything happens in a blur. One moment we're striking, and the next we're beaten into a pulp. I manage to soak a Delancey in the eye when suddenly a familiar sharp pain fills my chest and wince, faltering. Morris takes this as an opportunity to knee me in the stomach, forcing me to the ground, where their take turns kicking my chest and body with those damn steel-toed boots of theirs until my clothes are torn and the cuts on my arms reopen. Suddenly, there's a small crack as my body swells up with pain and the taste of metal enters my mouth. I let out a blood-curdling scream as the pain registers in my brain. In my blurred vision, I see the Delancey's walk away, ready to torture their next victim; Crutchie.

I try to get up and reach out, try to scream at them not to hurt him, but all I can do is weakly move my hand in their direction and spit out blood. Suddenly, a small but rough hand reaches out and drags me into an alley. "Dammit, (N/N) what were you thinking?! Fighting in a gawddamn binder, and a makeshift one, no less!" "R-..Race..?" "Not now, (N/N) I have ta get youse to safety foist." I watch as he chews on his nails in thought, "Dammit! The only way back to tha lodge is through the Delancey's again!" He sighs. "Brooklyn it is..." He gingerly picks me up and carries me as fast as possible to Spot's turf.

Setting my feet on the ground and propping me up against him, he bangs on the door. "Spot!" Please! This is serious, I need your help!" I can hear the tears in his voice. Spot flings open the door, obviously very concerned. He's confused for a second, then looks at me and his eyes go wide. "GET THE MED KIT AND A COT OPEN, WESE GOT SOMETHING HORRIBLE THAT'S HAPPENED" he yells behind him. Race, now more calmed down, takes me in his arms again, but seems to refuse to look at Spot, who looks away as well, but more in shame.

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Race POV:

I watch as some of the Brooklyn newsies take (N/N) and lay him on a cot, anger surging through my veins. I take a deep breath "I'll take care of him. You guys don't have to worry about it." As they leave the room, I look down at (N/N) and can't help but feel guilty. Like this is my fault. I only got away with a black eye, but he got all this?

I regain my composure and start by taking (N/N) shirt off. I can already see the bruises starting to form and cringe. I take off his binding bandages and see his chest expand immediately. Poor kid. He must have been hurting in more way that just one. I take the gauze from the wooden box and gently wrap his torso with it. Maneuvering around his arms, I notice something. The bandages on him arms. When he was wearing them before, Jack said it was a marketing ploy, but now I see red bleeding through the white gauze.

I unwrap (N/N)'s arms and gasp. Hundreds of tiny, but deep cuts litter his forearms and wrists. F#ck. He was hurting so much more than I could have ever known. I wrap them with fresh gauze and treat the rest of his wounds, stepping back to admire my handiwork. That's when I start to cry. Full-on tears falling, face in hands crocodile tears. I turn my head with a start to see Spot, standing over me with a hand on my shoulder, looking apologetic "I'm so sorry..." Suddenly this sadness turns to rage. I grab him by the shirt collar and drag him outside to an empty alleyway. "SORRY?? SORRY, MY 4SS! (N/N) AND SO MANY OTHER 'HATTEN NEWSIES ALMOST DIED OUT THERE BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T WANT TO JOIN UNTIL YOU KNEW WE WOULDN'T "CAVE" WELL, WE DIDN'T CAVE, AND LOOK WHAT F#CKING HAPPENED! AND DONT YOU SAY SORRY TO ME AND EXPECT ME TO FORGIVE YOU JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, THAT'S FOR CROW TO DECIDE." Spot seemed silent at first, but now I could see his anger building up; "WADDAYA THINK WOULD O' HAPPENED TO MY BOYS, HUH?? I WANTED TO WAIT TO SEE IF WE WOULD BE THE ONLY ONES FIGHTIN IN THIS BATTLE AGAINST PULITZER."

I open my mouth then close it. He has a fair point, but doesn't he trust me and the udda newsies not to bail in their hour of need? I sigh, pinching my nose. "I'm sorry Spot, I just-... I just wish you trusted me a bit more..." I look up at him to see tears in his eyes. "OH, SPOT HONEY, ITS OKAY, I'M NOT MAD, DON'T CRY, DON'T CRY" I shush him, pulling his head into my chest, which isn't tough considering his height.

As he lets go, the adrenaline rush from today dies down. God, I'm so tired. My knees nearly buckle and Spot notices, "Aye, aye! Tony, you doin' okay?" I nod at him, but the bags under my eyes are making them droop, "Race, honey, you need to get some sleep, okay?" I shake my head but soon fall into Spot's arms as my legs give way. "Fine..." I mumble. I can feel him grinning, "Good, we gots an extra bed for youse to sleep in." I sigh, grateful. I can feel Spot picking me up, the rhythm of his boots tapping along the ground, a pause and shift as he opens the lodging door and kicks it closed behind him as I fall asleep.

I wake up in a cold sweat. (N/N). I need to see (N/N). I need to check if he's okay. I climb out of the bed Spot laid me in and let my eyes adjust to the dark before maneuvering around all the other sleeping kids. I make my way as quietly as possible to where (N/N) is resting. I crouch down and take his hand in mine. How could I let this happen? And how did I not notice his suffering? I press the back of his hand to my forehead, closing my eyes. My body is so tired right now, but my mind is too tortured with guilt to let me sleep.

By the time my thoughts finally leave me alone, the sun is rising in the sky. I'm finally drifting when- "Race?" I turn my head to the voice, "Oh, jesus, you look horrible!" Spot exclaims, "did you even get any sleep last night?" I shrug, to be fair, I lost count of the hours. Spot sighs, "Race...go sleep. At least for a few more hours. I can watch (N/N) if that makes you happy," I nod, rubbing my eyes. I stumble back to my bed amongst all the Brooklyn newsies and fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.

My mind dreams of talkin' cigars and bloody bandages. I see Crow propped up against the wall, smokin' a cigar. "(N/N)! (N/N)! Oh my god, I'm so happy that you're okay!" (N/N) doesn't answer, I slowly starts walking towards him, "(N/N)...?" he starts laughing. Softly at first then roaring, and the laughing turns into a heavy coughing fit. As (N/N) coughs, red smoke pours out of his lungs and clouds my vision. I swipe at the air, trying to brush away the fog, "(N/N)?? (N/N), where did you go?!" suddenly, the smoke clears and I see (N/N) bruised, damaged, bleeding body at my feet, I gasp and step back. (N/N) slowly turns to face me, and in a painful, teary, almost sickly whisper asks, "Why did you let this happen?" Tears start spilling down my face, "I- I didn't me-" "You did this to me Race. Race. Race. Race! Race! RACE! RACE!--

Spot POV:

--RACE WAKE UP!" He wakes up with a gasp. He looks around wildly, tears dripping from his chin. I've never seen him like this. He must care for him like a brudda. To be honest, I'm worried as well, not only about (N/N) but now that we know 'Hatten isn't gonna back down and we join the fight, what's gonna happen to the newsies in general? Kids could get hoit. Bad.

"Spot?" Race starts sobbing, clinging to my shirt fabric, "Please...tell me it'll be okay..." I can't. Race, I don't know if it will. I almost start sobbing on the Spot ( A/N: heh...), but I hold my composure and smile at him, "It'll be okay, Tony...we're all gonna be fine" He seems to believe this, at least a little bit. "Now, don't you gotta meet up wit' da udda newsies?" He retracts his head from my chest, eyes wide. In a nasal voice, he goes "AW SHOOT, I 'MOST FORGOT" I watch him with a small smile as he rushes to get dressed like the goof he is. God, I love 'im.

Race POV:

Silence. I got there too early. Fuck. I can't just be alone with my thoughts, but at least I have some extra money to... I don't know? I walk up to the bar, where the owner of Jacobi's is cleaning out glasses. I sigh and sit down, "Got anything to help forget? At least for a little while...?"

"Ain't you a little too young for that, kid?" I give him a look and push my money over the counter to him. He quietly collects it, "So what can I get ya?" I'm silent for a bit "Fireball." I say with some demand in my voice. He disappears behind the counter and comes back with some shot glasses and a Fireball bottle, pouring it out into the glasses as I watch. I notice as he sighs, "Feel betta, kid." Can't promise that.

I pick up a shot glass, watching as the orange liquid spins around in it. I take in a breath of spicy cinnamon before letting the liquid slip down my throat, leaving a trail of a burning sensation. Soon, one turns into another, and another, and another and before I could comprehend it, the room starts to spin and blur. Eventually, the room fills with newsies, mumblin' 'bout how crappy the strike went. I do my very best to fit in and not act drunk, but the time zooms by and I find myself singin' 'bout bein' the king o' new york. At some point in the blurry memory, Katherine suggests getting drunk and I throw my hands up and cheer. More free Fireball! But then she clarifies that it was a metaphor, to which I am very disappointed.

The rest whizzes past me and soon I'm stumblin' my way to Brooklyn. I knock heavily on the lodging door, then lean on it. Unexpectedly, the door opens and I'm left to fall flat on my face at the feet of my boyfriend, Spot Conlon. "Race! Darlin', you okay? Youse fell flat on ya face!" He extends a hand that I receive and pulls me up. I giggle, "Ahhhh, my Spotty! Always carin' 'bout uddas. Pshht! Yeah, I'm fiiiine." I flop my hand down to wave off his concern. He wrinkles his nose, "You reek of cinnamon....and alcohol." He widens his eyes and I let out anudda giggle, "Race! Tell me you didn't jus' get drunk!" he whines, I grin, "Okey, 'you didn't jus' get drunk'" I imitate him in a deep voice and he sighs, "Jesus Christ, Racer.." he grabs my hand pulls me inside, eventually laying me on a bed, face red with a giggling fit. "Goodnight, my liege," I giggle some more, "and you my Prince," he gives a small smile before covering me with a blanket. I fall asleep before it's up over my shoulders.

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I wake up with my head feeling like it's going to explode.

Fuck Life.

I groan and sit up. "Mornin' Sleepin' Beauty" Spot smirks and hands me a cup of water, "Shut the fuck up" I whine and grab the glass, "Ooh feelin' feisty today, huh?" I shoot him a look that could rot a squash with one gaze. He holds up his hands in defense, "Alright, alright, my bad," He shrugs. I sigh and take a sip of water, which turns into me chugging the whole thing. "You betta get ova this hangover fast, hon" I groan, not ready to do anything at all today, "We gots the meetin' wit' Jack."

End my life.

"No, I don't think I will," "fuuuuck did I say that out loud?" I let out a small wail, and Spot chuckles a little, though you can tell there's somethin' on his mind still, "Yeah, ya did sweetheart." I grumble something incomprehensible and look down, red. He smiles, "Get dressed and drink as much water as possible, okay? We can't have you hungover for the big meeting, right?" I nod...which causes my head to hurt. Ow.

I sigh and decide to take my sweet time getting dressed. This sucks. "Spotty!" I call, then cringe after a new wave of pain hits, he pokes his head through the door "Yeah?". "I don't have the energy to deal wit' all dese gawddamn bandages. Help me?" He blushes a bit but agrees to help me bind. All I focus on is not hurting my head again. Spot ties the bandages and stands back to admire his handiwork but quickly notices my cringin'. "Do you want somethin' cold?" he asks gently, I nod as gingerly as possible.

*Timeskip to after the newsies meet n greet bcuz I'm power-finishing this at 12am and my mental health is steadily declining*

My hand shakes as I bring a fresh, unlit cigar to my lips.

Jack. That sellout, that traitor.

A sharp pain knocks me out of my angry thoughts. Ah. I burned myself.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, "Racer.." says a gentle voice, "You okay? that's your 3rd cigar in the past 2 hours or so." I look up to see Finch leaning over me as I sit on the ground, a concerned look on his face, "You're gonna run out all too soon" I give a bitter laugh, "Yeah, I guess I will." Finch can see that there's not much he can do to help me. He gives a weak smile and turns to walk away.

I see Davey run off somewhere. I wonder where they're going? I sigh and turn my head back down to the ground. Who cares? Without a leader, the strike'll just fall apart and Pulitzer'll win. Who was I kidding when I bragged abt being da "King o' New York"? I'm just some nobody kid without a nickel to my name. The bigger guys always win, so what's with me tryin'?

Jack POV:

I can't let any more kids get in this much danger. I visited (N/N) today. I found out about all his... injuries, as well as whatever he was born as. He's been through so much before all this, he doesn't deserve it.

It's my fault for being so ignorant. For not noticing anything was goin' on. My fault for inciting this stupid strike. For getting all these kids hoit. and Crutchie...poor Crutchie, locked up in that godawful place. I know he ain't helpless, 'e's a cheeky little bastard, I'll give him that, but the Refuge breaks down even the biggest of smiles and smothers the brightest of people. I will never forget that hell I went through. I went in a cheeky fightin' kid with a deep, strong flame, and came out with the embers barely glowing. It took years just to spark it up again. I'm terrified as to what'll happen to him.

I lean over the railing of my penthouse, not even noticing as it shakes and squeaks, making way for a young boy a little younger den me. "-Jack! JACK!" "Jesus Christ, yeah??? Oh, it's you, Dave..." I look away shamefully, he's probably here to chew me out and tell me we're done and gone. "What the hell was that?" I wince, I knew it. "Waddya mean 'what the hell was that?'?" "You know what I mean, JACK KELLY." I'm fucked. "YOU BETRAYED US FOR MONEY?!" "I WOULDN'T HAVE FELT PRESSURED TO IF I WADN'T DEALIN' WIT' A FLAKER!" Davey gives a bitter laugh and balls up the front of my shirt in his fist, tugging me towards him. "Ohoho! And if I wasn't your 'best friend' you'd be lookin' at me through one swollen eye!" "Oh, yeah? Well, don't let that stop ya, huh? Gimme your best shot!" something soft roughly pressing against my lips. The only thought at the moment is; 'Well, this is new... and passionate, 'specially from Dave' there's a heavy, awkward silence.

I back away from him, knocking over my drawings in the process. One specific drawing rolls out seemingly by fate. It taps on Davey's shoe and he looks down. His eyes widen a little as he reaches down to get it. "Is this.. the Refuge?" he puts a hand over his mouth, "weren't you stuck here once? Rats, cockroaches everywhere, 6 kids to a bunk? Holy fuc- I mean fudge." If the moment weren't this tense, I might've laughed. "Jack..." I feel a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready." I shake my head and he drops his arm understandingly. "Either way, we could use this. Heck..." Davey seems deep in thought before his face lights up, "We could make our own newspaper!" I look at him in disbelief, he notices, and speaks again "think about it, Jackie! Kath's a real talented writer! This art could change the perspective of hundreds! We could write to tell all the workin' boys to go on Strike tomorra'! And we could expose Snyder in the process!" Hey, that's not too bad..."But, Dave, how're we gonna print it?" His face falls, "I didn't think about it...we're banned from every printin' press in New York.."

Oh no. Ohhh no. "No. Noooo." I whine, Davey chuckles, amused "what?" "I know a printin' press that no one would ever think of!" Davey grins, "Then what are we waitin' for?" He puts my drawing back into the case, and slings it over his shoulder, getting ready to climb down. Suddenly, a thought strikes me, "Wait-" "Yeah?" "Dave- what are we exactly? Like I know how we act to each other n' everything, but we've never really said out loud what we are..." Davey giggles, "Jackie-" "No! Tell me right now, are we... in love? Boyfriends, I guess?? Or am I just something for your own experimentation?"

He cups my face in his hands, "Jackie..." he kisses my nose, "Of course I love you! And yes! We are in love! Dating! Boyfriends! Whichever way you want to define us!" Soon we're both grinning ear-to-ear and blushing. "Now!" he exclaims, hopping up, clearly on a high from the whole kiss and convo, "Let's get to it!" I laugh and stand up as well, following my over-enthusiastic boyfriend down the ladder. As Davey said; Let's get to it!

(Y/N) POV:

'My head hurts...' I think groggily. I try to open my eyes, but my vision is blurred and wonky. I sit up. Nevermind. Everything hurts. As my vision starts to clear, I see a very tired Spot Conlon sitting in a chair in the corner of whatever room I'm in rubbing sleep from his eyes. He fixates his eyes on me for a second, and I can see the sleepiness and confusion in his eyes turn into shock and joy. "(N/N)! Ohmygod! I'm so glad you'se awake!" I can see him go to wrap me in a bear hug before holdin' himself back after he remembers all my injuries. Wait. My injuries. "Does this mean you know about...?" I vaguely gesture to my arms and Spot nods sadly, "And..." I cringe and gesture to my chest, now only lightly bound with medical tape, but tighter than needed for a typical injury. I smile to myself. That must've been Race. He's like a perfect older brother, not only thinkin' about my physical health, but also my mental well-being.

Spot notices the look on my face and sees me lookin' down at my chest, he chuckles, "Yeah, Race decided on that. He wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible while you heal." I start grinning even harder. Spot spoke up again "Don't forget that even boys born seen as boys don't have perfectly flat chests, so binding as tight as you did wasn't necessary or safe, for that matter." I give him a look, is Spot really trying to be the cis savior right now? He gives me a look right back, "What? I know what I'm talking about." He lifts his shirt up to reveal two scars on his chest. I gasp, "But you're only *insert years/months* younger/older than me! How did you even know that this was an option, as well, how did you do it?" He smirks, pulling his shirt back down, "Thought so. Anyway, I don't really know. I needed them off desperately and randomly thought of it. As for the how, Buttons is AMAZING with scissors and blades. Like, scary amazing." He shivers. I blink. Damn.

He gives a shy grin "Do I really pass that well?" I look at him enviously "Of course! But... how do you look so...masculine?" "Well, I tried my best to copy the behavior of other boys I saw. And the whole working out didn't hurt." I nod, taking a mental note. Behavior, got it. Can't promise sticking to a workout, though. Spot scoots closer, taking my hand in his, "But the most important thing to understand is- behavior, body type, and a powerful reputation doesn't define being a true boy. What does is what's in here-" he taps my head, "-and here." he points to my heart. Spot looks me in my eyes, "You could wear dresses, skirts, use a 'girly' name, hell, even go by she! and you'd still be a boy in my eyes." I feel my eyes water, and Spot opens his arms to me with a sincere look. I fall into his arms and cry tears of joy. Spot and Race are the older brothers I never had, helping me at every fork in the road of my transition.

(A/N: I noticed that a big issue in trans fanfics was that the cis person was always the one to condescendingly teaching the helpless trans kid how to bind properly. I decided to make both of your mentors trans, had them both know what they're talking about, and made sure that you weren't completely useless or clueless, only that you needed guidance seeing as (Y/N) is a trans kid with no former knowledge about his transition. As well, I kinda wanted this fic to be of help to any newcomer trans men. Anyway, on to the last of the story!)

"So how are your ribs feeling?" Spot asks after we both calm down, "A little sore, but pretty much moveable. Is it really this painful to bind? I mean, the past few weeks I had the binding stuff on was my first time." "It shouldn't, I mean, lookit Race. He seems energetic and flexible even when he's binding." I think he sees my insecure face because he speaks again, "What I mean to say is- if you have more experience binding, you'll know how to mix mental and physical comfort. Either way, what fucked up your ribs wasn't the binding, it was the Delancey's. Not saying the way you were binding wasn't bad and wouldn't have caused lasting damage, of course."

I see Spot have a flicker of thought behind his eyes, he pulls out an obviously stolen silver pocket watch with the initials H.A. engraved on it to check the time. "Almost time..." he mutters. I give him a suspicious look, "Almost time for what...?" he looks sheepishly at the ground, "Nnnnnothing." I let out a noise halfway between a snort and a scoff, "Uh huh." "Fine." he sighs, "All the newsies and workin' boys is comin' together today. We'se hopin' ta finish up this strike Once And For All."

"Let me guess, I shouldn't go because I'm still healing." He nods, "Spot!! I need to do my part in this strike! I can't miss the most important day of my life." he gives me a weird look, "You don't even know what the outcome'll be, plus I promised Race that you wouldn't get hurt." "Please, I've been bedridden for WEEKS. And I won't get hurt" I protest stubbornly, he sighs exasperatedly "FINE, but I'm gettin' you right outta there at the foist sign o' danger, okay?" "Okay!" I say, content with the compromise. "We should prolly get you up and used to legs again before the strike--" my stomach rumbles harder than Les when he sees the chocolate croissants in the Pastry Shop window, and that's seriously saying somethin', "--and something to eat, too."

Spot holds my hands as I get out of bed and basically learn to walk again with wobbly legs. You could just paint my back with spots and call me a baby deer. Once I get my legs to work with me, Spot leads me to a tin tub. I give him a 'seriously?' look, "What am I doin', goin' ta church?" he laughs sarcastically, "Ha, ha. (N/N), you haven't cleaned yourself since the last time you were conscious. I also need to refresh your bandages since those haven't been touched since Race changed them in the foist place." "Fiiiine" I growl.

Spot unwraps my arm and chest bandages, but when it comes to me taking off the rest of my clothes, he looks away (not even for my privacy, but just because he is highly repulsed to the idea of naked bodies) I add enough soap suds on top of the water to cover my body so he's comfortable.

He grabs some soap and lathers up my hair with it, soon rinsing it. He also lathers and rinses my face, removing the built-up dirt, grease, and sweat, which accumulated surprisingly quickly for only spending a month, or was it two, here. Spot brings out a small piece of scrap fabric and a bottle of some liquid, then gently grabs my arms. "This might burn a little," he said empathetically. He dampened the cloth with what I am assuming is disinfectant and started pressing it against my healing cuts. I tried to hold in my pain but let out a small hiss when the cloth reached the deeper cuts on the backs of my arms. Spot stopped temporarily, letting my arms adjust to the sting a little, before continuing. Once he's finished, he hands me the soap and leaves the room to let me bathe myself in peace and picks up my dirty clothes and old bandages. "Holler if you need anything!" he yells on his way out.

I create a lather in my hands and stand up so I can actually wash my body. The air is chilly compared to the bathwater, so I do my best to be quick as I let my soap hands travel gingerly over my body. I look down, and for the first time in a long time, I don't feel ashamed. Spot words echo in my mind as I smile softly; 'You could wear dresses, skirts, use a 'girly' name, hell, even go by she! and you'd still be a boy in my eyes.' I guess, for now, I'm confident in my masculinity.

I sit back down, enjoying the warmth, and rinse myself off. I step out of the bath and look at the grey-ish brown-ish water. Ew, was I really that dirty? As the cold air envelops me once more, I realize I don't have a towel. Or clothes. "Spot!" I call out, "Yeah?" I hear a faint voice, "I need a towel and some clothes!" I answer. There's quiet, then a series of rustling sounds that slowly get closer. The door opens a crack and I see a tan, muscular hand slide a pile of clothes and a towel in my direction. I smile gratefully, "Thanks, Spotty!" "Aye! Only Race can call me dat..." "Okay, fine."

I dry my hair as much as possible, before continuing to my body. There's not much actual rubbing rather than patting because of my injuries, so when I get my pants on and slip my button-down onto my shoulders, they get a little damp. "Spot?" I call out again, "Do you think you could help me with my bandages?" "'Course!" He casually picks up the chest bandages and binds it pretty much perfectly- Tight enough to make a difference in my chest size, but loose enough to let my ribs heal. Spot then starts re-bandaging my arms, "Can I ask you a question, Spot?" "Sure, (N/N)" he says nonchalantly, "Why is it you are repulsed by fully naked bodies, but you're perfectly casual and fine about helping me bind my chest when I'm half-naked?" he clears his throat as if he was ready to spin a whole story, "Well, Race used to live with me and we started trusting each other a lot more than when we first met. He trusted me enough to teach him the best way to bind, and he trusted me enough to feel comfy without a top on when around the house, so I'm kinda desensitized. But when it comes to people being naked or bein' overly suggestive, I just..don't like it. At all."

'Asexual,' I think, 'Knew it."

"Anyway, you ready to fight off the bulls and get our rights back, (N/N)?" He stands up and offers a hand to help me up, which I receive. I catch my reflection in the dirty bathwater. I can see crystal clear, that I am dapper, strong, and ready to kick some Delancey ass.

But first, Lunch.

Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω

I arrive at the strike on Spot's shoulders, hyped for the happy ending they all worked so hard for. Spot sets me down gently and scans the crowd for someone. It seems he found them because his face lights up. I see Race run over to us. "(N/N)! Oh my god, I'm so fuckin' glad that you're awake! Especially today of all days!" however, his enthusiasm is soon replaced with concern, "But is ya sure yer okay? You must've woken up just today, so are you feeling good? Yer injuries don't hurt too bad, you're not dizzy, hungry, thirsty?" "Calm down, Tony, I gave him a bath, changed his bandages, gave him food n' water, even a pep talk, so you don't need to worry!" Race takes a few deep breaths, "Okay, okay, yeah I'm fine. But that's great!" He engulfs me in a firm, but gentle hug. I look around the crowd and see some familiar faces, Katherine seems to have brought another girl with her, who I'm assuming is Sarah, Davey's sister. I see Albert and Elmer tightly holding each other's hands. I see Finch and Smalls exchanging jokes as a form of distraction. I look back at Race and Spot, who are being so romantic, it's almost gross. Almost.

The adrenaline still hasn't left me so when people start getting as excited as me, it just hypes me up even more. We look up at the window of Pulitzer's office and see Jack and a few others standing there, waving. I wave back vigorously. Not too long after, Jack, Davey, Pulitzer, and The Governer appear on a balcony, Jack at the front. "Newsies of New York City..." cue the pause for dramatic effect, "WE WON!!" The crowd of newsies roars with joy. I watch as Crutchie limps out and beats Snyder's ass as the abuser is dragged away, I don't understand why so many people see him as an angel, it's obvious that he's a cheeky lil' rat bastard.

Suddenly, it's like everything is in slow motion. I look around once more and see Katherine and Sarah kissing, same with Albert and Elmer, Finch and Smalls are hugging each other tightly. I look back up at the balcony and see Davey and Jack gettin' it ON. I look once again to Spot and Race, who just finished kissing. Spot reaches down and hoists me onto his shoulders to cheer. And as I take in this momentous victory one sense at a time, I realize in a moment of pure bliss-

I finally found my true family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word Count: 8190

(A/N):

This took VERY LONG (approx. one month, I just finished after working from 9 pm to 5 am) I know it was supposed to be a simple one-shot, but since there was no one to help narrow down and shorten the plot for me, I got carried away. I am, however, pleased with the length of it. This may be the longest fic I've ever written. As well, I hope any underlying advice or tips mentioned in the story helped you to understand/realize something.

I would love it if you were to vote, give me some constructive criticism, and/or request something for me to write! Don't forget- I live to write that one fanfic you can never find.

Love y'all!

~ Race

[antiloreolympus]

14 Anti LO Asks

1. To the one anon: good question - how is it that the mortals dont know who Persephone is / assume she is a minor goddess and therefore its okay to mess with her but the gods (or Olympians / underworld denizens) know exactly everything about her (despite her being there only every so often and only being 20ish) - enough to say shes "wearing her signature white color" during a murder trial.

Also the reason why Persephone is wearing white is because

A). RS wanted persephone to always be "dressed as a bride" (and have Hades dressed as a groom respectively) to show that their matching / is supposed to be a visual cue that their eventually gonna be together.

B). I believe this is RS way of saying that Persephone (despite murdering some mortals) is innocent because in purity culture White = innocence, virginity, youth etc. (Even though RS explicity ssid she wanted to go against purity culture morals shes very much leaning into them). 

2. why are Psyche’s eyes yellow even in her human form? Is she sick??

3. honestly? LO is just gossisp girl at this point, espect even GG (at least in the first season) bothered to saturze the rich and was calling out how wealth and power makes them corrupt assholes. meanwhile LO is just GG season 2 and on of being like no no, the poor people are the evil people and the rich people are the oppressed ones! all while also fawning over their  wealth and status and being way into grown men wanting to bang barely legal teens and claiming to be "feminist" somehow.

4. Tumblr is well-known for broken tag system. Check the post' tags before complaining that it's op's fault. How about you guys not tag greek mythology when posting about LO? LO is not one-shot or short fancomic. It's also definitely not considered actual greek mythology. LO is years long webcomic with huge fans. LO has its own tag. Tell your fellow fans to stop using the greek mythology tag.

5. I would argue nyx is the only woman with a unique in design in LO but thats only because she looks like a deformed chicken woman. why was my night mom disrespected this much 😭

6. So now that LO is back from break and I can finally read chapter 170 - Why oh Why do ALL the female characters Have to be defined by their male love interests??? (Or really just love interests in general).

I understand LO qualifies as the "romance" genre and there are certain stipulations or I guess themes or what have you that make it romance but for f*cks sake.

Psyche being worried about Eros loving the "fake" her I kinda get, but really? Thats your most pressing concern?? Hera is defined by her garbage marriage to Zeus - King of the gods (of which is why she is Queen of the gods). Hestia + Athena are now defined solely by their relationship to each other (not the TGOEM or their respective traits of being a goddess of the hearth + goddess of war, strategy etc etc).

Aphrodite is defined by giving Persephone "relationship" advice (e.g: telling her to curb stomp Minthe because "nymphs dont take things from gods" - doubly implying that people are things to own) And by her jealousy of Persephone in the first place because Hades made a comment about how he thought Persephone was prettier than her. And also because of her "house of debauchery" (Artemis'  words) - and relationship with Ares.

Persephone is defined both by Apollo raping her and by her fated future status as Queen of the underworld (so her relationship with Hades). Hell, even the minor characters such as nymphs are defined by this relationship status / standard. Minthe is defined by her mean spirited personality yes, but Also because of her abusive relationship with Hades prior to the introduction of Persephone. Psyche is defined by her relationship woes with Eros. Daphne is defined by her relationship with Thanatos (and because shes a flower nymph) but also mostly because she looks like Persephone.

Rhea is defined by her marriage / relationship to Kronos (lets ignore the whole "fertility goddess power" plot for a second). Even Aetna is defined by Haphestus creating her! Is there not a single character (especially female) is isnt defined by their romantic love interest???Sorry. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but thats definitely how ot comes off as of late, in regard to the latest chapters.

Okay, same anon as earlier - I take it back somewhat - we have Artemis and Hecate that are not defined by their romantic relationships - but rather their lack of one.

However the way they are shown - it still comes off as a standard - "Artemis is stingy / a stick in the mud" because shes not romantically involved and is "barbaric" (according to Hera). And Hecate is still somewhat defined by her being Hades' employee (and cheerleader for him and Persephone to be together).

So technically yes, we have at least 2 characters that are not defined by their romantic interests / relationships, but they are still held to the standard of their "un-ladylike / undesirable" because their not romantically involved.

(I guess I should count Demeter, but only because shes more defined by just being "Persephone's overbearing mom" )

7. i think whats also kinda weird about this trial is like?? persephone is obvs framed as not liking the attention (bc duh) but she didnt like the previous press either, she wanted to be private, but wouldnt being with hades force her to be in the spotlight that makes her uncomfortable? also the citizens of the underworld already dislike hades, why would they want a uncontrollable felon as their queen, even if she found innocent? idk the whole thing just makes the endgame less plausible, tbh.

8. love that rachel was able to find a random deity name to name her random nymph the greek word for "beans" meanwhile apparently cant google actual greek names for even one off characters? like andrew, ellen, george, alexis, damian, luke, phoebe, sophia, and so any other english names are also greek, but she cant even bother with that? what exactly is her "research" if she cant even bother to spend 30 seconds googling greek names? at this point LO seems determined to be as un-Greek as possible.

9. wait so everyone in LO went from having no idea who persephone was, to her only showing up on ONE magazine cover, to now being the most well known person with a signature color? all in the span of two weeks with no genuine public outings? how does that make sense? also white isnt even her signature color if 90%+ the female cast and even a lot of the men ((including ZEUS) all wear it too.

10. the fact the courthouse WASNT the areopagus, aka the place in greece where they say the first ever trial ever happened and where the court system was invented, is just another point of rachel talking out her ass about being "respectful" or "researched" on greece and their mythology. its literally one of the most famous mythology spots ever with some fantastic stories to it and she's just like "nah! boring rectangle will do!" like why even both with mythology then if its this devoid of it?

11. Anons are saying Hades in the FS chapter is leaning down and talking to Persy like a child. Say it aint true.

(I wanna see. I thought RS was finally giving Persy adult proportions). 😨

12. So wait, hold up. I kinda get where RS is coming from with the law school in the underworld (because Hades is supposed to be a kinda Judge, jury, executioner situation in the afterlife when it comes to mortals and their "punishments" and whatnot). However, is RS stating that the ONLY law school / courthouse exists in the underworld? If so, why? Why wouldn't Athena be there then. She's a goddess of strategy and justice (among other things).

Also is RS really implying that Hades owns not only the banks and underworld but the law too? She really wants Hades to be a Gary Sue along side her Mary Sue - Hades controls everything that matters and since its his realm and blah blah blah rules, Zeus, king of the gods cant do anything about it.

(Which is dumb. Because you would think that because Persephone committed the crime in the mortal realm / on, or near Olympus that therefore she would be brought back there to dole out justice under Zeus jurisdiction because she committed the crime in His Realm). 

13. FP Spoiler ahead:

Why on earth couldn't the reporters have Greek names? There is so much wrong and bad with this story, yet this irks me so much. It is Brenda all over again.

14. i dont really get the point of the trial plotline, tbh. even persephone says she should be punished and held accountable, but hades is framed in the right for trying to go against that and weasel her out of it. so?? plus zeus has legit reason to punish them? persephone is a danger to others, demeter and hermes both committed treason to cover it up, and hades was harboring a fugitive of the law and is now trying to force the system to let her go. how is zeus in the wrong for this?

[erazonpo3]

Lost Legends

Okay so I read Lost Legends: The Rise of Flynn Rider and general thoughts? It was cute and fun, and I have gripes here and there but I can still recommend it. I don't want to compare it to WOWM because it's like apples and oranges but Lost Legends wins points for me by actually acknowledging the TTS storyline and characters, even though it's kinda brief and not quite as... entertaining.

And before I go into the in-depth spoiler review I'll jot down a few thoughts here: there's a lot to be said about tie-in media and 'canon', but where I think it becomes contentious is where two pieces contradict each other, and whether those contradictions necessitate a canonical hierarchy or cancel something out completely. And the reason I'm bringing this up is because while LL borrows TTS lore it also contradicts it? which is. ironic.

but i'll get into that. Spoilers ahead

Basic Summary of The Plot

Our story starts at the Dark Kingdom, with a short prologue. It's all stuff we already know from the series: King Edmund tries to grab the moonstone, his wife dies, Eugene gets sent away for his own safety. What's funny is that Ms Queen still doesn't get a name, but her Lady in Waiting/Handmaiden gets a name (Maeve), and it's Maeve who really drops the ball on dropping Eugene off at an orphanage instead of raising him as Prince Horace. Go girl give us nothing

And from here the LL timeline begins, as Eugene and Arnie are now twelve year olds (I think?) in an orphanage in Corona. Which is the first contradiction to 'canon' but shelve that thought for now. Eugene and Arnie are good little boys but they're getting too old to keep hanging around and the orphanage needs money for the evil Tax Man, so they decide they'll go off into the world and send some money back when they're rich off their famous adventuring. What happens instead is that The Baron's circus rolls into town (yes that Baron) and Eugene and Arnie decide to try their luck signing up for that gig.

To prove themselves to the Baron, Flynn and Lance have to perform a hazing ritual a heist. The heist is literally just to buy a key from the Weasel but it plays out as this huge dramatic thing with a guard chase which is eternally funny to me because two kids walk into a bar, buy a key and then leave, and it's treated like fucking ocean's eleven. The Stabbingtons try to betray them (those guys are here too) but Flynn and Lance outsmart them, beginning a rivalry for the ages. Also, the pub thugs are all part of the Baron's circus crew. Don't think about it too much.

Anyway, as this has all been going down, Eugene is really interested in getting to talk to this guy with a tattoo of (what we as the audience know is) the brotherhood symbol, which Eugene recognises from the note left with him as a baby. He wants to talk to this dude in the hopes he'll get a clue about who his parents are, but this dude keeps eluding him. He also hasn't had a chance to tell Lance about this yet, so when Lance finds out about it he assumes Eugene only tried to rope him into the circus so he could find his parents and ditch him. Cue an ongoing silent treatment.

Eugene eventually does talk to this guy and he learns that the Brotherhood symbol is from the Dark Kingdom but the Dark Kingdom is gone so he shouldn't bother looking for it. Bummer. And now the Baron is planning a huge heist of the reward money for the Lost Princess' return, and Eugene is getting cold feet. He's been okay with a little bit of thievery so far but this feels like too much for him, and he's not okay with pulling it off but Lance still won't talk to him.

As the plan unfolds, Lance and Eugene reconcile and then they work together to betray the Baron and return the stolen treasure that they stole back to the King and Queen. They get caught by the Baron, escape, then get caught by the guards, but it's okay because they're presented to the King and Queen and when Eugene explains that they felt really sorry about it and promise not to do it again they're let go. And so the story ends on a high note.

My Thots™

Okay so here are the thoughts

Canon Compliance?

The obvious takeaway here is that this story offers you a beautiful pie in the form of the characters you know and love and the established lore, then shoves the pie in your face with things like "Eugene already knows the Dark Kingdom and the Moonstone exist but he never brings this up" and "Eugene betrays the Baron in a very significant way but somehow they'll make up and he and Stalyan will get engaged". Which means that if the integrity of the series is important to you, you'll probably just mentally cross out Eugene knowing about the Brohood/DK/Moonstone.

And imo that's fine! My own approach to this story is a kind of general 'if it works it works, if it doesn't I'll leave it' thing to work my own headcanons around. Because there's a lot of fun things to pluck from, like a new ex-Brotherhood member and other characters that could pop up from Eugene's past and other worldbuilding details.

The Story

The story was pretty short and obviously very tailored towards a younger audience, but it still felt kind of... slow? Mostly because nothing particularly exciting is happening until the big heist and even that feels pretty underwhelming. And of course I don't expect a story like this to be particularly complex and can appreciate its simplicity, but I felt like if it had been longer there could have been more twists to keep things interesting.

For example, the Baron is set up as a character not unlike Gothel, who lavishes praise upon the boys and goes on about how they're 'family' but is obviously just manipulating them and would throw them to the wolves in a heartbeat. Eugene underestimates just how criminal the Baron is, but at no point in the story does the doubt we have in the Baron's sincerity ever amount to anything- Eugene only turns against him because he has a morality crisis, which I'll get to in a minute.

Misc. Thoughts

Okay so one thing I thought was really cute was that each chapter has a little 'quote' from a Flynnigan Rider book, and I wrote them all down so if you've read this far and want me to post those separately lemme know. Anyway I just thought it was a very cute touch.

An honourable mention goes to every time Stalyan shows up, she doesn't really do anything in the story yet still is somehow the only character holding the brain cell. Rapunzel gets an indirect cameo by Lance and Eugene stumbling upon her tower and going "Whoa that's Crazy. Anyway. " which is amazing, and Cassandra even gets a little mention by the Captain! And to answer the question nobody asked, there's a chameleon running around Corona because she's an escapee from the circus, and Pascal's mom's name is Amélie!

Characters - okay really just Eugene

Eugene/Flynn is the title character of the book and we get the story exclusively from his POV, so there isn't a lot to say about Lance. On the one hand while I can acknowledge that this is a story about Flynn, not Lance, there's a few choices that feel like a missed opportunity at best given that this book really was an opportunity to explore Lance's character in a way the series never really does.

And it feels extra egregious when the plot demands conflict between Eugene and Lance, because while the emotion between them is engaging when it's happening, at other times it just feels like a convenient way to shove Lance offscreen again. (As a side note, as contrived as the conflict is these are also two twelve year old boys so. Can't blame em too much).

Also, Eugene coming up with the name "Lance Strongbow" on Lance's behalf while he's unconscious is one of those backstory things I'm not going to be acknowledging, thank you.

The Robin Hood Dilemma

Something I touched on after reading What Once Was Mine is that Eugene's characterisation prior to the movie isn't something writers seem to really like... dealing with. And it kind of makes sense that the author received a lot of characterisation notes from Chris Sonnenburg, because little Flynn does feel very similar to the Eugene we know; only the Eugene we know is an adult man who has since grown out of his Flynn Rider persona. But the Flynn Rider persona he needed to grow out of isn't something that ought to be cast aside entirely!! Stop being cowards!!

Taking a step back, the whole premise of the book is kind of a paradox- because Eugene needs to become Flynn Rider before he can learn to embrace his authentic self, but Flynn Rider isn't hero material, he isn't a good guy, he's not the right protagonist for a story for kids. So what we get isn't Flynn Rider, it's really just Eugene trying on a new name. That works for the beginning of the story, because he is just Eugene trying on a new name, but he doesn't grow into it.

At the beginning of the story, Eugene is an orphan in a poor but still functional orphanage run by a kind old lady, and he is surrounded by nice little boys. Eugene is motivated to leave and get a job by a desire to send funds back to the orphanage, and when he joins the Baron's circus he's taken aback to learn he's among thieves. Here's where I thought: okay, this might get interesting. We might be getting a G-rated 'angel falls from heaven' story about Eugene being morally corrupted by the Baron, of learning that the world outside is tough and he needs to look out for himself first and foremost-

but no. The Baron shares his plan to steal the reward money for the Lost Princess, because all the people he's surrounded himself with are already criminals who don't give a shit, but Eugene thinks that this is going too far! What about that poor lost princess who people need an incentive to search for? (he's like, projecting about his own parent issues which is fair, but still). And so the story ends with Eugene turning on the Baron to return the money to the "right" people (aka the king and queen of a kingdom?? okay) but he takes a single golden egg for himself so he can send it to the orphanage.

Which is all sweet and nice but. He still has to become Flynn Rider, asshole extraordinaire. He still has to lose his morals to the point where he'd take an inexperienced young woman to a pub that he, in this book, recognises is a dangerous place in the hopes that he can ditch her. He still has to go and become a wanted thief and rejoin the Baron and then ditch Stalyan on their wedding night.

The reason I'm going on about this so much is that the appeal of Eugene to me is that he is this good guy who wants to be a better person for the people he loves, but that means recognising that he has behaviour he needs to change, and his development is meaningful for that. Watering him down to a righteous Robin Hood hero does him a disservice.

The Real Villain Was Capitalism All Along

I will not elaborate nor should I

[kikyan]

~Pop goes [Y/n]~

Yandere! Laughing Jack x Female!Reader

“ Hey [Y/N]?” 

“ Yes, dear old brother of mine?” 

“ I finally made a friend. . .” 

“ Oh? What does this friend look like? What’s his name?” 

“ Well his name is Laughing Jack and he is a clown!” 

“ Oh, a clown? I love clowns!! When can I meet him!” 

“ He’s my friend [Y/N]. . .” 

[Y/N] little brother whined as he looked at his sister hanging upside down from the tree in their backyard. [Y/N] wasn’t like most girls, while most girls would ignore their brother, younger or older [Y/N] didn’t. She absolutely adored her younger brother Zach. 

“ I’m not trying to take away your friend silly!! I just want to meet him!! How does he look?” 

“ Well. . . he is super tall and is black and white all over. Plus he-” 

“ Wait. He is black and white?” 

“ Yes, dummy if you listened-” 

“ Why isn’t he colorful like the rest of the clowns we’ve seen?” 

“ I don’t know but I can ask him!” 

“ Please do because I am curious! Can’t keep me in suspense now can you?” 

Jumping down from the tree [Y/N] fixed her clothing which consisted of jeans and a hoodie, complementing the cold temperatures plaguing her small town. Fixing her hair so it wasn’t in the way, [Y/N] ran to engulf Zach in a hug as she twirled him around laughing, causing Zach to smile and laugh as well. 

“ You know I love you right Zach!” 

“ Of course! You tell me that everyday sister!” 

“ Well, I don’t want you to forget okay! Now let’s go back inside because I am freezing out here and I know that we are both craving some food right about now.” 

“ Okay [Y/N]! Also, Jack told me that he doesn’t have color because he isn’t like most clowns!” 

“ Well, that’s interesting, we don’t attack creativity or originality so that’s good!” 

~~ 

“ YOU’RE LEAVING US!” 

“ I CAN’T STAND IT HERE WITH YOU ANYMORE!” 

“ OH SO FUCK YOUR WIFE AND KIDS HUH? YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO GET A JOB RIGHT? NOW YOU’RE LEAVING ME AND THE KIDS FOR THAT WHORE!” 

“ DON’T INSULT HER LIKE THAT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT I FOUND THE RIGHT ONE A LITTLE LATER THAN USUAL! BESIDES, IT SEEMS YOU HAVE ENOUGH PEOPLE TO SUSTAIN YOU!” 

“ WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?” 

“ MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED WHORING AROUND MAYBE WE WOULDN’T BE HERE!” 

“ AND THE KIDS?” 

“ YOU BIRTHED THEM NOT ME! YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE!” 

As the screaming raged on [Y/N] Zach close by as he was sobbing in the hug. Asking his big sister why their parents were arguing and why they were screaming, most importantly why they were hiding but [Y/N] only smiled as she laughed and placed a kiss on Zach’s forehead. 

“ It’s okay Zach! Remember the song I taught you, “ Half a pound of tuppenny rice, Half a pound of treacle, That's the way the money goes, Pop goes the weasel!” 

Zach nodded before singing as soft gasps came out as he tried to calm his breathing and stop his crying as he sang with [Y/N]. Soon after the screams ended  [Y/N] smiled as Zach fell asleep with his cheeks all puffy and slightly red. Kissing his forehead slightly, [Y/N] whispered as she promised Zach a promise that she has yet to break. 

“ I’ll protect you Zach, I swear it. Nothing and  no one will harm you for as long as I live.” 

The next day [Y/N] woke up with Zach’s hand holding her own as she guided him down the stairs after brushing their teeth in the morning. [Y/N] smiled as she and Zach both jumped down from the second step to the floor, giggling a bit as they skipped over to the kitchen. To their surprise, their mother was already up and running cursing small curses as she tried to make breakfast for her kids. 

“ You kids are awake! Great I have an interview at 9 and it’s 8:45! [Y/N], you can finish the rest of the breakfast right? Remember chores first and games later okay! See you soon!” 

Their mother ran as she hurriedly put on her heels and grabbed her purse, exiting the house soon enough. [Y/N] stood holding the spoon that was used to mix the contents of a pot wondering what the hell she was supposed to do. 

“ Um. . . Zach, sit at the table and I’ll make us breakfast okay!” 

“ Okay [Y/N].” 

[Y/N] grabbed a chair and climbed it to peek at the contents, it was just oatmeal but it couldn’t be that hard to make, could it? She simply got the container and read the directions making sure to follow it correctly. After making the food [Y/N] served it and handed a plate to Zach and placed hers next to him. 

“  [Y/N] I’m thirsty.” 

“ I think we have some spare orange juice, I’ll see if I can find it.” 

Going to the fridge [Y/N] opened it and found a small bottle of orange juice that was filled enough for both of them to drink from. As she made it back she served her brother a cup of juice which he drank rapidly. [Y/N] only smiled as she picked up her own spoon only for Zach to say, “ [Y/N] my food is hot. Can you blow on it?” 

Sighing a bit she laughed and picked up the spoon blowing on it slightly to cool down the oatmeal and decided to play around with it. 

“ Zach! Here comes the airplane!” 

Making childish sound, ‘vrooom’, ‘ Zooom’ she spoonfed Zach the oatmeal she prepared, it seemed like the disaster that occurred yesterday was being drowned out of the laughter of Zach as he enjoyed playing with his older sister. 

~~ 

“ [Y/N] I’m hungry.” 

“ Hold on Zach if we could rush cooking trust me I would, I am starving.” 

“ Jack gave me some candy that I could have.” 

“ And he didn’t give me some? I am offended.” 

“ Because you are a girl [Y/N]” 

“ That does not make sense but okay I guess, treasure your candy and I’ll treasure our dinner.” 

“ Wait, I want to eat dinner too!” 

“ You already have candy Zach, you can’t have dinner if you have candy!” 

“ O-okay! I’ll put it away!” 

“ I’m just playing Zach but if you have candy before dinner it will give you a tummy ache, and you won’t enjoy candy if you do that.” 

“ Hmm... Okay [Y/N]” 

Mixing around the chicken noodle soup [Y/N] pondered and thought where her brother got the candy from. He said Jack gave it to him, but Jack wasn’t real was he? Unless. . .

“ Hey Zach, question what kind of Candy did Jack give you?” 

“ Hm. . . not sure all I know is that they are colorful though. I would share but Jack doesn’t want you to have any.” 

“ Hmph! Fine! That’s fine, I guess I won’t share my soup with him either! His loss. . .” 

At the sound of this sarcastic remark, Zach jumped up to say, “ H-he says that he can’t give you candy because you aren’t special but your soup looks tasty!” 

“ Oh? Well, thanks for the compliment Jack but it’s a shame that I’m not special enough for candy. If there is extra feel free to take some soup I guess.” 

[Y/N] began to serve dinner with a pondering thought. ‘That candy came from nowhere so it’s only safe to assume that Zach is lying or Jack is real, what did he mean by special? There isn’t much difference between me and Zach aside from age, I would say the both of us have vivid imaginations and similar personality. Wait! Could it be age? I’m gonna have to keep Zach close by... .until I get to the bottom of what’s happening.’ 

[ Y/N only stared at Zach eat the soup with a smile on his face, Zach was the only reason [Y/N] could even smile in this world. 

~ 

“ Brush your teeth?” 

“ Yes.”

“ Wash your face?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Ready for bed?” 

“ Yes- WAIT! NO! THAT’S NOT FAIR!” 

“ Keep it down Zach! Before the neighbors come after my as- I mean come complain!” 

“ Were you about to say a naughty word?” 

“ Yes, but I didn’t. Anyway’s we are having a sibling sleepover because mom isn’t coming home till late so.” 

“ Yay! Does that mean I get to cuddle next to that bear dad got you?” 

“ Yes, yes it does. Now onward child to my room!” 

“ Yay! Wait, Jack is asking why I can’t sleep by myself.” 

“ Well, Yah see Jack, Zach and I have sibling sleepovers that not even mom can stop so, it’s a tradition and I will be shook if it ends now!”  

“ What does that mean?” 

“ It’s best if thy don’t know!” 

“ Hmph! Rude.” 

“ I-, okay well someone ain’t getting cuddles!” 

“ Aww C’mon!” 

“ Well hurry to bed.” 

“ Okay, wait,  Jack where are you going?” 

“ Is Jack leaving or something?” 

“ He said he is going to walk around the house.” 

“ Huh, okay just make sure to watch out for some steps.” el

Suddenly, sleep overcame everyone as Zach cuddled into [Y/N] as [Y/N] only stared in horror as she saw the silhouette of another being, assuming they are only staring at them. It was a tall-skinned being with shaggy hair. [Y/N] could not see who or what it was but she tried to steady her breathing and make it seem like  she was already sleeping. 

Suddenly the being began to move and [Y/N] closed her eyes and clutched onto Zach tighter afraid that this being would harm Zach. The being shifted and officially left the room and began going down the stairs only to briefly pause, before stepping over a step and continuing his way down. 

‘ He knew about the step, he knew the stairs had strange steps! Either he was here for some time inside the house already or he is Jack!’ 

[Y/N] stayed awake for some time before succumbing into a deep sleep, not before staring into the eyes of a tall-skinned monochrome man resembling that of a clown. 

~~ 

“ Hey Mom, I’m sorry to bug you but will you be gone all week, at night that is?” 

“ Yes, but why do you wanna know that sweetie?” 

“ Well, let’s just say that Zach really misses you and stuff.” 

“ Zach has you right?” 

“ Well yeah but having a mother seems better, I’m not saying I don’t like taking care of Zach but it’s just that maybe it would be safer if you got here earlier. What in case someone breaks in or something?” 

“ This is a good neighborhood so I doubt that, besides you have the next door neighbors in case of anything so don’t worry. On top of that, why do you ask now? What happened all of the sudden?” 

“ Nevermind mom, I get it, you have to work and I’ll just try my hardest okay! Have a safe day today mom!” 

“ Okay sweetie, remember get Zach to school and you too okay! Bye! Call me or the neighbors if you need something!” 

As [Y/N]’s mom left for work once again in the morning, [Y/N] pondered on the thought that again, like always nothing changed. 

~~ 

“ You have your lunch right?” 

“ Yes!!” 

“ Okay good boy Zach! Now off we go to school, I’ll pick you up after my school okay?” 

“ Okay! Does that mean we can play later after school?” 

“ Of course silly!” 

“ Hey don’t call me that [Y/N]!” 

“ Okay, if you say so, but also if you get good grades! Don’t forget to be nice to ‘ Everyone. . .’.” 

“ But I am!” 

“ Okay but why did you fight with that kid named Tommy?” 

“ He said that the boys had to take care of the girls and that I was a baby because you still took care of me!” 

“ Zach. Let me say something.” 

[Y/N] crouched down to meet her brothers height as she began to speak. 

“ Zach, mom is a girl and she takes care of the both of us! Does that make us babies?” 

“ W-well n-no” 

“ I am your older sister so I have to take care of the younger people! Does that make you a baby?” 

“ No. . .” 

“ You’re not a baby Zach. . . in fact I think you’re a strong boy! Who saved me from the pirates? Who saved me defeat the giant in the backyard?” 

“ I did!” 

“ Exactly, now would a baby be able to do that?” 

“ You’re right [Y/N]! Thanks. . . you really are the best sister in the whole world!!” 

“ I know I am! Now get to school before we both get in trouble-” 

Zach began to run across the field to get to his class as [Y/N] ran to get to her class before her teacher called roll. Upon entering her classroom she was met with her teacher calling roll, luckily, [Y/N] name hadn't been called and she quickly sat down. 

“ I feel so bad for her. . .she was telling me how much she liked that kitty she got. On top of that all those spooky things going around her house.” 

Feeling intrigued, [Y/N] asked about the so called ‘spooky’ things occuring. 

“ Well, Sarah. You know Sarah right? Well, anyways her cat was found last night hanging from the tree, cut open and was spilling some form of candy. It was so gross and Sarah was crying and crying. Her little sister was horrified but Sarah said that all these weird things happened ever since her little sister got a new friend.” 

“ A new friend?” 

“ Yeah, Sarah thinks it was an imaginary friend at first but then her little sister started appearing with treats and whatnot, just something that an imaginary friend wouldn’t do, but she just assumed that her friend was some neighbors kid or a homeless. Anyway, that’s all I know.” 

“ O-o-oh, well if you have Sarah’s number let her know that she has my condolences.” 

“ Of course! Oh wait! [Y/N] don’t you have a little brother?” 

“ Yes I do.” 

“ Has anything strange has been happening so far?” 

“ Well not really we both have a vivid imagination so it shouldn’t be much.” 

“ I see. . . take care of him okay? If it is someone, make sure to keep him safe. There are a lot of strange closeted freaks around here.” 

“ O-oh. . . yea of course! Nothing is going to happen, over my dead body!” 

After class was done, [Y/N] took out her phone and began to search for anything occurring matching those descriptions. 

‘ What would make a good search that might get me something other than clown giving candy’ 

[ Y/N] laughed at her search idea but dismissed it as she remembered that this was important and began to continue searching. 

‘ Hmmm. . . animals dead cut open spilling candy?’ 

“ that might work” 

Once hitting the go button she was met with grotesque images but nothing of the sort. Sighing she tried maybe searching for a more personal thing. 

‘ Black and White imaginary clown’ 

Some lazy articles were present but one that caught her eye was, “ WOMAN CLAIMS HER SON WAS MUR. . . .” 

Without thinking, [Y/N] clicked on the link and was sent to an article talking about a woman who claimed her son was murdered by a monochrome clown. It talked about how the mother had a son named James who told her he had an imaginary friend. However later that day she had a nightmare, of other children in a fair playground. Her son was given candy by his friend but she thought he was lying. Later that day the dog was murdered, cut with candy spilling out. She ran and alerted the neighbors, the cops telling her that it was a robbery, but she swore that everything was locked. The next day she kept her son in, setting a baby monitor to listen for anything strange, but suddenly she claimed her son was killed and nailed onto the wall. She tried to kill the clown except she stabbed her son on accident. She is now in a criminally insane institute and someone keeps playing, “ Pop Goes The Weasel,” outside her room. 

“ Well damn, this clown is one fucked up clown.” 

[Y/N] put her phone away and began to think. The mother found out and after 3 days her son died. This is strange, if this follows a pattern, this is the second day and something should be dead spilling candy late at night. We don’t have an animal so I don’t think that’s gonna happen, but if he improvises, well damn. She checked her phone and link again to find out the clowns name, “ Laughing Jack.” 

‘ Shit. . . it’s the same name as Zach’s friend. . .no doubt about it. This is the same clown we both are dealing with. I swear. . . Zach will not die by his hand!’ 

~~ 

“ I’m sorry [Y/N], but he called you a naughty word and I got mad.” 

[ Y/N] tried to hold back her laughter when she went to pick up her brother that day. According to the teacher, Zach and Tommy got into a fight because Tommy called out a bitch and you just had to laugh. Yet, it was a cute sight to see your brother defend you. Zach kicked Tommy in a certain place, normally Zach would be in trouble but other kids heard what Tommy said so it outweighed the crime. 

“ It’s okay Zach, you tried to help me and that’s all that matters. By the way, did you really kick him there?” 

“ Yes, I know you told me never to hit there but I had too!” 

“ just between us, good job!” 

“ Thank you [Y/N].” 

Walking down until they reached their house, [Y/N] told Zach to put away his things before coming downstairs for lunch. As [Y/N] was preparing a meal she began to think of Jack. If Sarah’s sister happened to have the same friend that would explain where Jack was always leaving to. It all started to make sense, but if her cat died yesterday that would mean that Jack would. . . no he wouldn’t. He would need also need to kill an animal and give it to us, but what if he works differently and there is no pattern? I mean she was the only witness I remember even being on the web. 

“ [Y/N]! What are we eating?” 

‘ I mustn’t think like that, Sarah will be safe, her sister will be safe. Everything will be fine. . .’ 

“ Anything you want Zach. . .” 

~~ 

Setting in a nice room and sleeping, what could go wrong. A loud clunk was heard, waking the siblings with a jolt. This scared Zach, but for [Y/N] she was both scared and glad. If It was jack then luckily Sarah’s sister was safe, but if it wasn’t Jack that would mean that it was a robber and that Jack was going after Sarah’s sister. 

“ [Y/N]. . . what was that? I-is m-m-mom back?” 

“ Stay here Zach!” 

[Y/N] was walking in silence, avoided the step that made noise, and walked down only to hear Zach come down the steps and whisper, “ [Y/N] the bear dad got you is gone!” 

‘ An animal. . .” 

[Y/N] sprinted down and ran the steps to see her teddy bear, the giant one her dad got her for her birthday before he left hanging from the ceiling fan, with candy spilling out. Relief washed over her as she realized that Sarah’s sister would be okay if it weren’t for Zach screaming, alerting his sister to his side. [Y/N]’s eyes widened at the sight, a red liquid. . . ‘ Blood?’ except followed by the blood were a pair of eyes, blue eyes like those of Sarah, small baby teeth, and a tongue. [Y/N] wasted no time and grabbed her brother and ran to the neighbors calling their mother and the police. 

No doubt about it, the police said the same thing. It was probably a robber, but they warned their mother that she shouldn’t leave her children like that alone ever again or CPS would be involved. Their mother thanked them and apologized to the officers along with the neighbors for staying awake and taking care of the children. The police went inside the home to recover the bear and the organs, explaining how they might be connected to a murder that happened recently, right across the street from them, two blocks down. At the sound of this, [Y/N] panicked and asked if the victim was a little girl, blue eyes, light brown hair, an older sister, etc. The officers were surprised and suspicious of [Y/N] for knowing a lot of info and began to question the girl. 

“ How do you know that?” 

“ I heard about some strange things occurring at her house, you see she is one of my classmates and I'm worried! Was it her?” 

“ Y-yes it was, but the conclusion we came to would be that the person who did it probably tried to scare you too and they snuck in to display what you saw in your house. You will be questioned later but be safe. Parts of the crime scene were found in your home, either you’re the next or its someone who gets a kick out of these displays.” 

“ Thank you officer and of course, you will be informed if anything changes!” [Y/N]’s mother apologized and thanked them once more. The house was secure and they could return, the only shocking thing was that Zach was speaking to Jack again. Zach was a little uncomfortable that jack arrived a little later after all this happened and that he was laughing. Zach just kept asking Jack where he was and if he was okay. 

[Y/N]’s mother was a little confused but rushed her children inside the house. [Y/N] walked over to her mom and they began to talk, mostly about the incident. 

“ Mom, hey. . . I think it’s best if me and Zach stay home. . .” 

“ I want you to go to school, it’s safer.” 

“ If someone did some inside the house to scare us, let’s say we are next. That means that they might stalk us and if we go to school, which means that will find out where we are will only lead to more danger.” 

“ If you stay home where he might come back you’ll be in more danger, [Y/N] listen to me, it’s not that hard to listen to your mother is it?” 

“ Why can’t you take the day off and take care of us? You always come home late, ever think that maybe we are more in danger because of that?” 

“ No need to raise your voice nor get sassy! As your mother I am doing the best I can for you guys but if you want to complain then complain to someone else because I am sure we are all shaken up after these events-” 

“ If you were around the house more you would know! Ask your boss, I am sure she will be okay with you staying home or coming home back earlier-” 

“ I bring food to this table, to this home by working more hours! If you had a job then maybe you would understand how difficult it is-” 

“ I do have a job and that’s being the mom you FAILED TO BE!” 

‘ slap’ 

“ I DON’T EVER WANT YOU TO TALK BACK TO ME YOU HEAR!” 

Zach came down the stairs and ran to [Y/N]’s side in fear for her. Their mother sighed and told Zach to go back upstairs to sleep, but Zach refused. [Y/N] laughed a little before grabbing Zach and saying, “ No wonder Dad wanted full custody of us. . .” 

“ W-WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?” 

“ I said what I had to say! Dad saw that you could never be a good mom and look, I am that proof! Who is playing house now?” 

[Y/N] tucked in Zach before giving him a kiss on the cheek and saying good night. She walked back to her room, before Zach said something to [Y/N] that made her smile. “ Y/N, b-be safe, I love you and Jack wants me to tell you, good job for standing up to her.” 

“ Thank you Zach and Jack, thanks for that.” 

~~ 

Another day, and Sarah didn’t come to school so nobody heard the details about last night. [Y/N] has only tonight, because if everything so far has been based on the pattern, Jack was going to kill Zach tonight and [Y/N] wasn’t going to let that happen. She thought of some ways that she could outsmart Jack. 

‘ Jack can teleport because all the doors were locked and he killed Sarah’s sister yesterday and did his whole charade thingy. Anyways, if that’s the case then he can’t know where Zach is but he hangs with him all the time and if I tell Zach to run Jack will only get to him faster, Jack could also kill me too. . .My only choice is to confront him. .’ 

Once having her resolve, [Y/N] left school a little earlier than usual, her mother would be getting a call so no doubt about it she will find out, but in the end she would thank [Y/N] for saving Zach. Except that never happened. It was late at night and [Y/N]’s mother wasn’t going to come home and just stay late working. [Y/N] had a plan to confront him, simply put they were going to have another sibling sleepover, if Jack only killed children he would have to take Zach away from her giving her enough time to bolt with Zach or to tell him to go over the neighbors and leave her with Jack. 

“ Zach, mom is going to be late again so come and sleepover in my room. I don’t have the bear anymore but still, I can be the next teddy bear.” 

“ Okay [Y/N]!” 

Zach was safely tucked in the bed and was snoring peacefully, [Y/N] pretended to be asleep and heard a soft shuffle, only for a voice to speak. 

“ You’re not asleep.” 

[Y/N] opened her eyes, bridal style carried Zach and ran. She had to make it downstairs and at the very least make him go with the neighbors. Zach awoke within the ruckus and was confused when [Y/N] told him to run to the neighbors when she opened the door. Jack apeared right in front of them halfway down the stairs, only for [Y/N] to jump over the railing and continue to the door. 

“ ZACH NOW!” 

Zach ran and kept ringing the bell until the neighbors opened, Zach was safe! [Y/N] turned around to meet with Jack, she sighed before she told him that he would never get Zach. 

“ Thank’s for the compliment but I’m not going to let you hurt Zach.” 

“ Out of all the children I’ve killed, every home I visited, you are the only one who paid attention, cared even, if only the others were like you.” 

“ Thanks, but like I said I don’t intend to let Zach die here!” 

“ You aren’t stupid, you know that I could easily kill him, but I admire that side of you. If only Issac was like that, shame really. I came for life and a life I shall have, so tell me, wanna strike a deal?” 

~~ 

“ Please help my sister!! She is trapped with someone scary!!” 

“ Of course! Let’s call the police!” 

By the time the police were called onto the scene, [Y/N] was long gone. [Y/N]’s mother was arrested for child negligence and for not administering parental supervision such as a babysitter or a relative coming over. Zach was forced to live in an orphanage but his neighbors gladly took him in, unknown to the rest they were trying to have a child for so long but haven’t been able to, Zach didn’t mind. Except, he wanted his sister [Y/N]. 

Christmas rolled around and Zach was opening the gifts his new parents got him, except one was wrapped nicely in decorative paper. Zach’s parents weren’t sure who got it, but it was for Zach. It was a big bear, one like [Y/N] had. Zach cried a little at the memory before smiling, his sister was alive, he knew this, but where was she. She was right outside watching him smile, [Y/N] smiled at the sight before an all too familiar clown arrived to pick her up. He grabbed her hand, feeling nothing from him,  [Y/N] thought back to that night, the night he claimed her as his, mentally. Whether it is for comfort or for something else, Jack was glad to have someone like [Y/N] with him, someone to care for him. He looked down at the girl as he ruffled her hair before leaning forward. 

His hand got closer and closer to her cheek before he touched it. 

“ Pop Goes [Y/N~”

[bluefirewrites]

T.Rex, Velveeta, and Other Fun Names

A one shot I made, thanks to @lydias--stiles and @blush-and-books. 

We were talking about what Luke’s middle name could be and it sparked an idea for this quick little one shot (which is neither quick or little actually.)

Could also be read on AO3. 

ENJOY!

____________

Lucas T. Patterson

The madness of this week all started when Julie thumbed through Luke’s journal and found her songwriting partner’s messy scrawl inscribed in the behind the front cover.

Yeah, it was his name, Julie would have griped about how illegible it was and moved on to whatever song she and Luke had been workshopping the day before and thought nothing of it-

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a flurry of deep inset scratches of pen scribbling out the space where his middle name was supposed to be, leaving only the ‘T’ unscathed…

“So I was thinking, maybe we change the key. I thought I was feeling A Major,” Luke rattled off, playing the aforementioned series of chords on his electric, “But now, I think we could really intensify it by flipping to a minor key-”

“What’s the 'T' stand for?”

The ghost looked up, confused, “Huh?”

Julie held up the inner cover of the journal, pointing to his name, “Lucas T. Patterson. The ‘T’- what does it stand for?”

It was a simple question, but all color drained from his face.

“O-Oh. Oh that?” Luke stammered through, struggling to rid himself of his guitar, the skull and rose strap kept swatting his face in his hurry.

She nodded.

He was across the room in seconds, back facing her, pretending to fiddle with the amp settings, even going as far as inspecting Alex’s drums. Thank goodness the drummer wasn’t there right now or else he would be getting a thorough lecture. ("Tell him to stop touching my drums!" extended to his bandmates as well).

“It, uh, stands for my middle name,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I get that. So what is it?”

“It’s nothing,”

Julie rose from the piano bench, traversing the studio until she was right behind him. She forced him to pivot and face her, “No, it’s clearly something.”

Luke gave a dismissive wave and a weak nonchalant laugh, “It’s not a big deal,”

“It clearly is if you won’t tell me,”

Then his head cocked to the side. He cupped his ear, “Uh, what’s that? I think I heard Carlos!”

“What?” She couldn’t hear anything.

“Oh, you need help, Carlos? On my way!”

“He can’t even-”

In a flash of light and warp of reality, Julie was alone in the studio.

“- hear you...”

Oh boy.

Now what was that about?

________________

Ever since then, Julie’s curiosity only grew. Why was Luke so evasive when it came to his middle name? What could possibly be the reason?

With all the secrecy and going great lengths to omit it from his journal, she was betting on it being insanely embarrassing.

Which made Julie want to find out even more.

Luke didn’t get embarrassed so easily, not much to weaponize against him whenever they all made playful jabs at each other from time to time, like the friends they were. Really it was stuff like ‘Beware, Luke this shirt has sleeves’ which basically translated to ‘Haha, you’re attractive’.

Which did not pack quite the punch.

She was determined to decode Luke’s middle name, if not to quench her curiosity then to humble the guy.

He couldn’t be attractive and talented. Something’s gotta give.

(And no, she didn’t often think about how attractive and talented he was… Nope. Not at all).

“Tristan?” she threw out while they were backstage at their next gig.

Luke tuned his guitar, “Nope”

“Thomas?”

“Nuh-uh”

“Terrence?”

He finally looked up, smirking, “You will never find out.”

The tech burst in, phasing through the ghostly forms of the boys, to lead her out onto the stage.

She inwardly cursed. Saved by the bell.

“Break a leg, boss,” Luke wiggled his fingers at her before she was practically pushed past the curtain.

Even when she sat down to play the piano, Julie could not get the image of Luke’s smug face out of her mind. Oh, he probably thought her attempts were just so cute.

Yeah, cute for now.

But she wasn’t done yet.

____________________

“Alright, guys. Help me solve the mystery. What’s Luke’s middle name?”

It was one of those rare occasions where Luke was out of the house, leaving her, Alex, and Reggie alone.

The boys had been present for her previous tries to weasel Luke’s middle name out of him, and they were amused for the most part- Well, never as amused as Luke ‘Thinks He’s All That’ Patterson (not a serious contender in her guessing, by the way).

With their reactions, and however many years of brotherhood shared among the three of them, Alex and Reggie just had to know.

They were all chilling in the kitchen, Reggie perched on top of the counter and Alex lounging at the table. Julie poured herself a juice, waiting on the answer.

The bassist straightened up, “Oh. It’s-” Then he stopped, face scrunched up in a frown of concentration.

Julie directed her gaze at Alex, who was ready to jump in.

“No, wait it’s…” He faltered.

The two boys’s heads snapped to stare at each other as they pieced it together.

“Dude, I don’t think-”

“No. He had to have. I’m just blanking,”

“Guys?”

“Oh my god,” Alex uttered, pushing his golden locks back into his cap, “It took us this long to notice?!”

They were now on their feet, sandwiching Julie.

“We... don’t...know,” Reggie winced, admitting it out loud.

“How could you not know?”

“I don’t think he ever told us!” was the bassist’s defense, “He’s Fort Luke when he wants to be!”

He made the gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key to which Alex nodded.

“Now I wanna know!”

“Me too!”

Now this was a development. If Luke’s boys had no clue, then it must be really juicy.

Taking a sip from her cup, Julie was all ready to recruit two new members for the noble cause…

_________________

Julie, Alex, and Reggie huddled in a circle at the studio, all bearing notebooks and furiously whispering at each other and scribbling away when Luke decided to make an appearance.

They dispersed, making their collusion all the more suspicious.

“Luke,” They all greeted, with the same level of enthusiasm… at the same time.  

The guitarist eyed them skeptically. Then he took in the notebooks, “You’re having a band meeting. Without me?” he asked, hurt flashed in his hazel eyes.

“No, silly. We’re having a band meeting about you,”

“Reggie!” Alex and Julie hissed.

That only added to Luke’s hurt and confusion.  

Sending him a reassuring smile, she guided him to an empty chair, placed right in the middle, just beyond the coffee table, “Sit down. Please.”

“Okay?” Slow steps and weird stares later, his butt plopped onto the seat, “Can someone tell me what’s all this abo-?”

“Lucas Theodore Patterson?” Alex leapt in front of Luke, reading his guess off his notebook.

Luke’s shoulders slumped, seeing where this was all going.

“Guys, really? You too-?”

“Is it or is it not Theodore?” Julie backed Alex up.

“God no,”

Reggie was up next, “Lucas Timothy Patterson?”

The nose scrunch answered for them.

“Lucas Tyrone Patterson?” as was Julie’s turn.

“No flow,”

And so they were stuck in a circle for the next 20 minutes, everyone taking turns guessing Luke’s middle name, their lists growing more desperate and random as they continued, even going as far as borderline yelling the names at him- that was how frustrated they were.

“Lucas Troy Patterson,”

“No”

“Lucas Trixie Patterson?!”

“That’s not even- that’s not even a guys name-”

“It’s Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m telling you. It has to be!” Reggie slammed his notebook down, poking Luke hard in the chest with his index finger,  “Admit it! LUCAS. T. REX PATTERSON!”

“Boy, I wish,”

Their guessing game, once the last of the names have been recited, left all of them breathless (even though two of them were ghosts!).

On any other occasion, Luke would have been sympathetic, especially seeing how broken up and defeated they all looked collapsed onto the couch, glaring at him like he was the enemy.

But their fruitless attempts only made him all the more victorious.

“Nice try guys,” he patted each of them on the shoulder before heading out.

Best to give them a break.

Ya know, to deal with the defeat.

____________________

She was nothing if not persistent.

But Julie knew she might have been taking things too far when she had made the trip to Emily’s.

Look, she thought she could just pay the woman a visit, to check up on her, catch up-

Maybe ask leading questions in order to trick her into telling her her son’s middle name?

Yeah, the plan was flawed from the start because how could she so subtly direct the conversation to her dead son’s middle name.

Maybe get her to tell a story about Luke getting in big enough trouble that would have warranted the whole ‘yelling-out-your-full-name’ treatment? Which was a total stretch.

But she didn’t expect it to be the complete and utter disaster that it was.

If Alex and Reggie hadn’t gotten impatient and started snooping around Luke’s old room and digging through his things to find some sort of sign for his name, and if Luke hadn’t decided to intervene, creating all kinds of ruckus in other rooms for his mom to stop and check-

Then maybe they wouldn’t all be sitting on the Molina living room couch hours, getting read the riot act by Luke Patterson of all people.

“I had to tip over my aunt’s vase!!”

“Well, if it's any consolation, your mom always hated that vase?” Reggie chuckled before being promptly silenced by one look from Luke.

Alex spluttered, “But, like, you didn’t have to break it??”

“I did what I had to do,”

“Your mom was so freaked out!”

“Well, that’s on you guys,”

Julie just about had enough with all these games, she pushed herself up from the couch, squaring up against Luke’s unwavering gaze, “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Me?” he yelled, taken aback, “ You went to my house!”

“We just wanted to know!”

“Oh my god!” His hands gripped at his hair, “Why do you wanna know my middle name so badly?”

“I like knowing stuff about you, okay!”

Luke stepped back. Eyes wide.

That-

That wasn’t meant to come out.

Especially in the booming, shrill tone she used.

“Oh…”

Luke was playing with the sleeves of his oversized flannel, the air between them thick and brimming with awkwardness. It didn’t help that Alex and Reggie took this as the opportunity to flee.

Now it was just the two of them in the living room.

Breathing deeply to collect herself because it finally hit her- they were in a screaming match all because of a middle name . Like, Luke wasn’t the only one being ridiculous. It was her too. This whole quest to figure out what the T in his name stood for was so pointless.

They were fighting and Julie didn’t like it.

“And,” she cleared her throat, dislodging the unpleasantness, “there’s something clearly bothering you about it. Just… maybe thought I could help?”

Julie had been kidding herself. Messing with Luke might have been her initial goal, but what bugged her most about not knowing his middle name was the fact that even after all the time they spent together, there were things that Luke still wouldn’t tell her.

He was entitled to keep his secrets, yes, and she still felt bad for spying on him on his birthday. But, they were bandmates, writing partners, friends . She had confided in him a lot and he with her, and they just…

They always had this closeness. A closeness that she appreciated and didn’t take for granted.

And she had acted so recklessly because of it.

Luke nodded, taking it in. He didn’t look mad, but he understood. Julie could tell he was able to get more from her than the words she spouted at him.

“It’s, just,” his voice lowered into a self-conscious whisper, “It’s just something I don’t like a lot of people knowing...”

“I’m sorry. I pushed,”

“It’s okay,” the left corner of his mouth twitched, “You wouldn’t be Julie, if you didn’t” he playfully punched her shoulder.

She gaped at him in mock offense, “Hey!”

“Just saying. Tt’s not the first time you showed up on my doorstep, digging up my past,” she instinctively grimaced but Luke reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, “But I know it’s coming from a good place. Thanks.”

He really shouldn’t be so forgiving, Julie thought. But she was just happy that they could just leave this mess behind them.  

“I’ll get the guys to drop it,” she offered.

That made Luke laugh, “Good luck with that. Reggie’s wearing Alex down. Now he’s seriously considering my middle name to be ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’,”

“If it was that embarrassing, I’d see why you’d keep it a secret,”

It seemed like Luke wanted to say something but shook his head and thought better of it. Instead he tugged her by the hand to the door, “Come on. You never did give me your opinion on the key change…”

_______________

It was months later when it finally came out. 

They were in her room. She was doing homework and he was getting a jump start on their newest song, working side by side on the floor.

Her laptop was open, some randomly chosen Spotify playlist streaming in the background. All was well when the familiar chords of ‘Get Lost’ started playing, causing Luke to visibly tense up.

“Trevor,”

“Right. Sorry, I’ll turn it off-”

“No. That’s…” He sighed and moved into a kneeling position.

Pushing his already opened journal to Julie, Luke flipped it to the cover, where his name was written.

He pointed to the scribbles over his middle name.

Where only the T was exposed…

Trevor.

“Lucas...Trevor...Patterson?”  

“My full name. Ba-da?” his jazz hands fell flat, betrayed by the quiver in his voice.

“Oh,”

“I, uh, never liked how it sounded. And you know how I feel… about things that just don’t flow right”

Julie did. For sure. Scrapped lyrics and melodies were often what happened. Never to be brought up again.

He continued, “My mom would insist on writing out my full name on my notebooks for school- Luke Patterson is already so generic,” and the first genuine chuckle of the night huffed out, “Never used them for class of course. Just to write songs.”

“Tre-Bobby,” she corrected herself “He would have needed proof that he wrote everything...”

“My old notebook. That had ‘Get Lost’ and ‘Crooked Teeth’. Made the mistake of writing it in pencil. It’d be so easy to just-”

Slamming the laptop closed, silencing the song, Julie enveloped the ghost in a hug. He melted against her, hands gripping onto her shoulders from behind, for dear life, the weight of the reveal finally taking its toll.

“I didn’t like my middle name before. Now, I just- I just can’t stand it,” he whispered into her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Luke”

“Were the songs not enough? He had to steal my name too?”

The ache carried by his voice made Julie squeeze tighter.

She had no words.

What Bobby did, what he took from Luke, was more than she could ever fathom. She didn’t know what to do, what to say to him to soothe the pain.

She only held him.

For as long as he needed.

___________

"How come Alex and Reggie never found out?" she would ask him later.

"Didn't make it habit to show off my journal"

She frowned, "But you let me read it."

Luke, too, had no words in response.

____________

“Hey, wanna go on a walk with me?” Julie asked him out of the blue one evening.

Luke could definitely use a break, especially from whatever row Alex and Reggie had just gotten into. He nodded and took her offered hand.

They took a stroll down her street, hands still joined but hidden in Julie’s hoodie pocket (as to not make it seem like she was grasping at air). The sun was beginning to set over the hills as they could see from their vantage point in the park, their set destination.

Julie seemed to have some purpose for this random walk because she was leading him around until they reached a tree in a more secluded part of the grounds.

Whipping out a pocket knife, Julie replaced her hand in her grasp with the odd tool.

“What’s this?”

“For a while, I lost all sense of what music meant to me. I thought music was my mom. That if she’s gone then there’s no point in going on,”

“Aw, Jules”

Her sunny disposition shone through in a smile, “It’s okay. I had to redefine music for myself. Give it new meaning. Music is not just my mom. It’s my family and Flynn. It’s you and the guys” she shrugged, “It’s me.”

“I would have told you that,” A tender touch to her forearm coaxed an even bigger smile from the girl, “You definitely are music.”

Momentarily distracted by the compliment, it took a moment for Julie to get back on track.

“What I’m trying to say is. I think it’s time for you to redefine yourself. There’s stuff in your old life that you miss, but there’s also stuff you want to leave in the past…”

It dawned on Luke what Julie was referring to.

“That ‘T’ is a placeholder. You could go by a different middle name. You could do whatever you want. You’re a ghost now. You can… move on. So,” she revealed the blade and placed it in his palm once more. She nodded at the tree.

“Go ahead. Go give your name a new meaning, Make your mark,”

Grinning, Luke picked up on her plan and began carving into the trunk, his initials, all three letters representing his name, with each mark easier to craft than the last, imbuing more love and meaning into them, just like what Julie said.

Once done, he admired his handiwork, floored by how cathartic it was, to have his name on something that was gonna last.

L.T.P

He was taking back his goddamn name.

He beheld it with pride.  

“I’ll ask again,” Julie leaned against the tree, tracing the letters with her fingers, “What’s the 'T' stand for?”

With no hesitation he said-

“Thundercat,”

“W-What?” Julie choked.

He lost it at her reaction, “You said whatever I want. I loved that show as a kid!” he giggled.  

“Lucas… Thundercat… Patterson,” Julie so badly wanted to make a comment, Luke could tell. But she changed her mind, “You know what? If it makes you so happy then go for it. Who am I to stop you?”

“Nah, I’ll think of something else later on. But it’s my afterlife. I could go through as many middle names as I want, right?”

“Exactly,”

Luke returned her knife and thought she was going to slip it back into her pocket. Instead, she strode up to the tree and proceeded to carve her own initials right below his.

“There. So your name doesn’t have to be lonely up there,” she folded up the blade and put it away.  

“You know that, uh, couples usually do that kind of thing,” Luke couldn’t help but notice that, with the way their initials were oriented on the tree.

A rosy hue graced the girl’s cheeks, “Oh...yeah.”

A beat of silence followed, just the two of them staring at the tree.

“I like how our names look next to each other though,”

Luke nodded, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and rising, “Me too.”

Squinting, he read Julie’s initials, “ J.V.M. What does the ‘V’ stand for?”

A devious glint sparkled in her eyes,  “Maybe you’ll just have to guess.”

“Aw come on!”  

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh as if you made it easy for me?”

Ok. She had him there, “Fair enough.”

The whole walk home, Luke ran through all the ‘V’ names he could think of.

“Julianna Valeria?”

“Nope,”

“Julianna Vanessa?”

“C’mon, songwriter. Where’s the flow?” she teased.

Luke snapped his fingers, believing he cracked the code, “Victoria. After your aunt,”

“No. But imagine how mad she was when she found out,”

“Venus, Vanilla, Vaseline-”

“Vaseline?”

They were at her doorstep, and he bounded in front of her, blocking her path, “I won’t give up.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

“Velveeta. Like the cheese”

“It’s Valentina,” she finally said, pushing him aside, fishing through her pockets for the keys to open the front door.

“You got Valentina while I got stuck with Trevor?” She lucked out in the middle name department, that was for sure. 

Of course someone like Julie got shacked up with a beautiful name like Valentina…

“I could change mine too. In solidarity,” she said offhandedly.

“If I go with Reggie’s suggestion: Tyrannosaurus Rex then would you be Velociraptor?”

“T.Rex and Velociraptor?” she laughed in disbelief, finally walking through the threshold of her house. Thank goodness everyone else was already upstairs.

“From this day forth, I will be known Lucas Tyrannosaurus Rex Patterson!” he confidently declared

“And I’ll be Julianna Velociraptor Molina!” she repeated, taking much pleasure in the absurdity of it.

“Were you a dinosaur kid?”

“You saw my slippers and my PJs...”

“True,”

_______

Luke didn’t expect for them to take the whole new middle name thing so seriously.

But if they so happened to greet each other next time with prehistoric roars and with him tackling her onto the studio couch and pretending to bite her like the carnivore he was, then that was for them to know…

And for Alex and Reggie to remain confused about.

__________

Bonus:

And after some years down the line and one magical reincarnation later, Luke decided to change his name again.

“Patterson’s okay,” he said to Julie, “But I think I need something new.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

Luke went down on one knee, in front of the tree they marked up when they were teenagers, ring in hand.

“Molina sounds pretty good to me…”

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just ��expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

[magax-destroyer]

It is time for the first of 5 account showcases on my blog, wherein I discuss my Neopets OCs and all of you must endure the agony of me rambling about the dramatic lives of my cartoon animals if you dare to click the readmore.

Today we'll be looking at my side account halzatron, and all the pets therein: Erosollo, Cursyn, Necroptosis, Diophyrus, Pherphernut, and Kokonili! LET'SGO

Most of my accounts (and by most, I mean all except one) I base on the thought that all of the pets on it actually live together. In this specific case, the only one who doesn't "live at the house" so to speak is Diophyrus (he comes to visit!). Everyone excluding him lives in Neovia; Diophyrus lives in Meridell.

Final Warning: Everything below is over 1,300 words long, I tried to make these as small and simple as I could. I am going to write a story about these guys one day though if I ever get the motivation... If you just want to stop at looking at their nice customs that’s fine!

I am legally obligated to start with Erosollo because this purple weasel sends serotonin to my brain every time I so much as look at him.

Name: Erosollo Pronouns: he/him or they/them Color: Royal Petpet: Royal Meepit (Hanos)

Erosollo is a huge dork who is into fantasy novels and tabletop games. He thinks himself something of a knight-in-shining-armor type and tries to put on the air of being a perfect gentlemen around people he doesn't know. Born without magical powers like his mom or brother (or at least, he thinks so), he took up sword-fighting as a hobby because he is a nerd. Now him and his friends like to go on little "adventures" to other lands, basically LARPing around. The group also loves to play pranks around the Haunted Woods and Neovia.

Can't seem to remember much about his past, but... If it was important he'd remember it, wouldn't he?

Pherphernut and Kokonili are his best friends, and Diophyrus is his boyfriend. Dio likes to call Erosollo his white knight.

Name: Cursyn Pronouns: he/him Color: Mutant (formerly Halloween) Petpet: Halloween Blugar (Plague McRabidnoozle)

Erosollo's beloved older brother. Cursyn wasn't always a mutant that looked like a hell spawn... That was the result of a tragedy from his past that he'd really rather forget about. Cursyn is the one who has magical powers between the two siblings, but considering his appearance... He'd rather just stay inside all day in his room than go out on adventures with everyone else. The only people who ever get him to come out are Erosollo and Necroptosis.

Like I said, this guy's tragic backstory is one he'd rather not discuss, but allegedly his problems all got started with someone calling himself a scientist...

Cursyn is in a long-distance relationship with my Ruki, Shean, who he met when the latter was resurrected following his death in the Haunted Woods. He has one other friend, Wysteranium, but he hasn’t seen them in forever…

Name: Necroptosis Pronouns: she/her Color: Faerie Petpet: Plushie Baby Fireball (Mishal)

The literal mom of the house. Necroptosis is a magician who specializes in fire magic, and has taken three two students under her wings (metaphorically and literally) to train them in honing their magical power. She loves her babies, but she really wishes Erosollo would stay out of trouble! Whenever she isn't making sure her kids aren't out causing havoc Fyora-knows-where, she's either in her study or... out looking for someone.

Necro met the boys' father a long time ago, though no one's seen him in years or even really knows who he is. She tries to always do right by her babies... And sometimes she might make a bad choice because she thinks it's to their benefit...

She's divorced, and planning on staying that way. As far as other relationships go, she's on speaking terms with Symonious, doesn't particularly care for Erican, and she and Tolnaftate are... err... well, they'll work together if they absolutely have to...

Kokonili and Pherphernut are her students, but really, they may as well be her adopted kids at this point. Some people think she had another student at one point, but nobody is sure who it was. And there’s even rumors that she has a sister and possibly a nephew...

Name: Diophyrus Pronouns: he/him Color: Royal(?) Petpet: Drackonack (Greg)

Diophyrus is a dorky little farmer boy from Meridell who Erosollo, Kokonili, and Pherphernut met on complete accident while messing around out there. Dio is a dork too, just like Erosollo, who is obsessed with fairy tales and dreams of having some prince sweep him off his feet... So you know as soon as he sees this Kyrii with the crown and the cape and the sword he absolutely had to get into that friend group. He's a lot more of a clown than the others, though, and his favorite thing to do is try to get Erosollo to corpse (basically, crack up and start laughing) whenever he's in prim-and-proper mode because he thinks it's funny.

Nobody really knows much about this Cybunny's past... His mom LonnieAnne, when asked, just says he was left on her doorstep when he was a cute little baby. Who could ever abandon a bunny this cute?

Of course, being Erosollo's boyfriend, Diophyrus is also friends with his friends. He tends to get along with Kokonili best, since both of them are a bit mischievous and like to cause trouble. For whatever reason, Tolnaftate is constantly checking up on him, though Dio and Tol try to keep that a total secret.

Claims not to know who his biological parents are, but... is that true?

Name: Pherphernut Pronouns: she/her Color: Halloween Petpet: Plushie Sandan (Oopsy)

The Halloween Bruce who loves plants and studying magic spells. Pherphernut was Necroptosis' first student after... some stuff happened. While Pherphernut has been taught to do all sorts of general magic, her favorite magic is anything involving growing plant life. She has a magical broom that she, Erosollo, and Kokonili ride whenever they go on adventures together... Though it barely fits them all. (Erosollo is a gentleman who will sit on the very back, no matter how much it completely terrifies him.) She is a sweet, gentle, soft spoken girl who just wants to help people, and is always there for her friends.

Born on Terror Mountain, when Pherphernut began displaying magical talents, her grandmother went looking for a teacher for her. The two of them happened across Necroptosis, who offered to take the girl in to teach her how to use her powers. Pherphernut still likes to fly out on her broom to visit her family back on the mountain whenever she can!

Since Pherphernut was the first to get to Necroptosis' house, she is a lot closer with Erosollo than Kokonili is. She's actually the one who got him hooked on pranks (what? It's fun to prank people from your magic broom...) and it just got worse when Kokonili showed up. Pherphernut is also friends with Symonious, even though the Vandagyre is a bit older than her. She views Sym as being like the cool, older cousin she never had.

Name: Kokonili Pronouns: she/her Color: Christmas Petpet: Christmas Barlow (Snuffy)

*I want to preface this one by saying I did not know of the character Lady Frostbite from Defenders of Neopia when I made Koko, and I like her custom too much to change her but maybe I'll revamp her powers at some point, idk.

Kokonili could sort of be considered the only sane one among Erosollo and his friends, though really that just translates to being more street smart than them. She's a bit rough around the edges, but Koko does really care for this gaggle of nerds she's found herself surrounded by. She's only begun studying under Necroptosis very recently, but she has a special talent for ice magic... With none of the required secondary powers to avoid freezing herself. It embarrasses her to no end, made even worse by the fact that she is very easy to rile up which can lead to her overdoing things...

Born on Krawk Island, Kokonili spent a lot of her life essentially stuck at the bottom of a pirate totem pole. She grew up learning how to keep herself from being taken advantage of, and ultimately met Erosollo and Pherphernut when the two were on Krawk Island. After accidentally freezing someone who was trying to rip the duo off, they decided to totally take Koko home with them, and since Koko didn't exactly have a family or anything, she said screw it and went with them.

Kokonili and Diophyrus ended up quickly becoming besties, like I said earlier, owing to the two of them both being troublemakers. She's friends with Erosollo too, but... She really has to teach him some street smarts, because watching him get ripped off is absolutely cringe-worthy. She has a cute, puppy love crush on Roxalae, because she finds that Eyrie extremely cute with her pretty steampunk clothes and her red hair...