#maybe around 10-12 years old

[vegetableharvester]

My ocs as kids.

[gleefulpoppet]

You move me, Kurt. Ten years [X]. Eleven years [X]. Twelve years. [--]

[glittercorvid]

the worst part of getting something approaching a sleep schedule is that now my body either wakes up at 7:24 on the dot OR after i've gotten 7 and a half hours of sleep, whichever comes first. so if i fall asleep on the couch at 9:00 that just means my day starts at 4:30 am now

[foone]

Bad idea: Age gap discourse but in a fantasy land where there's multiple races who have vastly different lifespans and life styles.

Is it wrong for a 27 year old human to date a 140 year old stone elf, considering most stone elves don't get out of diapers till their 30s?

Is it wrong for a 80 year old dwarf to date a two year old fire wisp, when fire wisps only live up to 5 years (between the eruptions) and have memories of their past lives, so in a way they're "born" at age 400,000+? That octogenarian dwarf is way younger than the fire wisp that's only physically younger than some of the socks the dwarf has!

Is it wrong for a chronomancer who was never born to date, well, anyone? They are zero years old and infinity years old and negative one hundred and seventeen years old all at once. They look like an old human, sure, with the long white beard and the wrinkly skin, but as far as anyone can tell, they've always looked like that. We've seen the cave paintings.

Is it wrong for a 30 year old lizardman (that's old in lizardman years) to date a human who is 60 years old in biological years (because of aging spells), 26 years old in lived-experience years, but only 13 years old in calendar years? (ie, they were born 13 years ago, but spent some of that time in sideways timelines, so they've lived more years than have passed in their home timeline?)

Is it wrong for a 12,000 year old dragon date a pile of 400 kobolds when kobolds only live like 10 years on average, but reach full maturity in one year? And if you disagree, can you do anything about it? You do know what happened to the last policeman who tried to arrest a dragon, right? Their city is still smoldering, 50 years later.

Is it wrong for anyone to date the time worm? It's the same age, every year. So the age gap can only intensify. If you start dating the time worm when you're both the same age, when do you break it off because you've become too much older than them?

And most confusing of all... What about the fairies? They could be anything between a thousand and a day old, they would lie about their age either way, and they can look like whatever they want. There's fairies we know for a fact have been around since the founding of The City of Towers, who met the silent mother herself, and also look like they're at most ten years old. Is it wrong to date them, or just really uncomfortable for everyone who sees it? And on the other side there's fairies who are "born" (hatched? They come from plants, I'm not sure what the verb even would be. Seeded? Sprouted, maybe) this week who are already appearing like middle-aged men and dancing with widows in what looks like a scheme to run off with her fortune but they never take the money, because what would a fairy want with worthless metal discs? Maybe fairies have a hive mind or genetic memory or reincarnation with full memories, they'd never tell you or give you a straight (or consistent) answer anyway.

Stonefolk are really the only inter-race dating situation anyone can agree on. They're unthinking & unmoving solid rock during the day, so those hours don't count. Thus their "real age" is a nice even half of their true age. So if you meet a stonefolk who was dug out 30 years ago, watch out: that's a 15 year old, and if you're a 25 year human, that's too young for you, even though their dig-date is five years before your birth-date.

EDIT: 2024/01/12: Changed the name of the Stonefolk

[nomaishuttle]

I'm gonna be so open and honest with you guys right now i fucking rly dont want to go to work tomorrow .

[letorip]

crimson & clover

“now i don't hardly know her, but i think i could love her"

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x mute!reader

summary: people fear that which they do not understand. it makes sense then, why you and wednesday fall in love and help each other

warnings: erm you killed a lot of people on accident, angsty in the middle there, threats of violence, descriptions of violence

word count: 5.1k

A/N: heavily inspired by black bolt, who i really do think is one of my favourite heroes. there will likely be a part 2 or 3 to this but for rn my attention is on kiss with a fist. THERE WILL ALSO BE A PART [IV] OF SOMETHIN' STUPID

KISS WITH A FIST [IV] WILL BE UP NEXT SUNDAY

===+++===

===+++===

There were certain things you couldn’t have, when one had the ability to do incredible damage, if they just opened their mouth.

When you did so, on a random Saturday morning at 10 years old, and your house burst apart, it took your parents and a chunk of the neighbourhood with it in a fiery tempest that stabbed you right through the heart. You learned then, that maybe you weren't meant to have a family.

At age 12, when the kids at the Home for Outcast Children strung you up from the monkey bars by your ankles, and you couldn’t hold in a laugh from how the world looked funny when the sky looked like the floor, you learned you weren’t meant to have friends, sitting silently in the dirty crater where the playground used to be with your head tucked into your knees.

You had thought it would be implied then, that you would never have a lover, either. But then again, there was Wednesday Addams.

It was still a mystery, why she chose you. You had assumed she would want nothing to do with you just like she didn’t want anything to do with most people, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The both of you met about a week after she arrived at Nevermore, in the dead of night on one of the walks you always took when everyone else had gone to bed and there was no one to watch you, no one to murmur as you went past. You didn't pose a danger to anyone, then, and it was liberating and also deeply melancholic.

That was when you were most at peace. Your thoughts, even though well-reasoned, could not be expressed. You wrote often, in a leather-bound notebook you’d let no one see, but the power was given to writing through reading it, and there was no one you could have close enough to do so. It made you tired, to be around people you couldn’t communicate with. Few people wanted to wait for you to write something out on a notebook and even fewer wanted to learn sign language.

Kinbott had a dry-erase whiteboard in her office that was just meant for you and the only deaf person in Jericho, though the old man had gone missing a few months ago, without a trace. It was humiliating, at first, and you used to write two-word sentences, curt responses doing the bare minimum, often out of anger— whether it was anger from your situation or anger at being a teenager, you didn’t know— but now you could fill it with paragraphs and kept a notebook for when communication was especially necessary.

That night itself was peaceful, with gentle, twinkling stars that were only lightly polluted by the quad’s towering lamps. You could still see their faint outlines above you, with casting shadows down the lawn from the roof’s spires, and it smelled as if it were going to rain soon.

When you heard the scuttling of something on the floor, you jumped, startled, eyes shooting down to where you were certain you had felt someone’s fingers grip at your leg. Your eyes widened in surprise at the disembodied hand, racing up the uneven cobblestones and then up the leg of someone at the far end of the quad, landing finally on her shoulder.

Wednesday with her arms crossed, looking at you with a comically large bag slung over her shoulder that must've contained all of her belongings, like a runaway in the night.

Oh. That's what she was.

You blankly stared back at her, blinking at her figure. She took a menacing step forward, her grip on the bag tightening. "Are you following me?" she asked, tone icy. When you kept looking at her without so much as opening your mouth, her apathetic eyes narrowed. "If you tell anyone you saw me, they will never find your body. Don't say a word."

It was intended to be a threat, and if it had been anyone else, it probably would've made their blood run ice over just from how cold her gaze was. But you just raised your eyebrows at her, unable to stop the amusement from tugging at the corners of your lips. The irony was very far from lost on you, and the more serious she seemed the more funny the blunder was.

"What?" she snipped. "Is something amusing to you?"

Again, you could not say. You silently shook your head, tilting it then out of curiosity, and gently pointing towards the hand on her shoulder. It sat up at your attention, sending a friendly wave in your direction. Your eyes widened, waving before Wednesday could clear her throat and pull your eyes back up to hers.

Her eyes in question were dark and intense, but beautiful, even under the dim lighting, and you had to swallow what felt like a lump in your throat, in order to regain your composure. "Why are you silent?" she asked, narrowing them at you. You were under her microscope, and she scanned you, looking for anything that would impair your immediate voice.

You raised up a hand as if to say ‘hold on,’ before tugging your notebook out from your overcoat, flipping it open and pulling out your pen. With a click, you were scribbling down on the paper, and Wednesday narrowed her eyes at you again, scanning you in suspicion.

When you were done, you flipped it around, holding it up to her eyes with a gentle smile. 'Trust me, I don't think you'll need to worry about me telling anyone anything, anytime soon.'

Her eyes combed over the words, then glanced back down to you. "Why is—" she opened her mouth out of curiosity, but a heavy door slammed shut down the hall, and she whipped around before she could finish the question.

You both could hear the footsteps coming closer, and Wednesday straightened up, grip tightening on the bag over her shoulder. "You didn't see me, and you won't ever again," she said, coldly.

You nodded, not that you believed she'd make it out. You yourself had tried to run away for the first month and a half, and after long enough, one just gave up. Nevermore was hard to escape; you doubted she had readied a good enough plan in just a few days of being there. Still, you wished her luck. The forest was dangerous, and especially now.

With a final nod in your direction, she hastily walked off, down the corridor the opposite way. You watched her go, calmly sitting near the fountain. A few moments after she disappeared down a different hallway, a very tired looking Weems came down the stairs in her nightgown, holding onto a rusted lantern.

When she saw you, she sighed. "What did I say about those nighttime walks of yours, (Y/n)?"

You smiled, tilting your head to the side and shrugging at her. Weems huffed at your attempt at cluelessness, shaking her head fondly. "Just make sure you get yourself to bed soon, alright?"

You nodded, leaning back on the fountain edge and tracing the grout lines with your thumbs. Weems turned back to the hallway Wednesday went down. "I guess Miss Addams is planning to escape tonight?" But you didn't write anything down, raising your eyebrows at her as if to say 'duh.' Weems adjusted the hem of her nightgown from where it had dragged gently on the steps. "Thank you, (Y/n). I'll see you tomorrow."

She began to follow down the path Wednesday had taken, letting the lantern lead her through the dim corridor, and you silently yawned, picking up your notebook and figuring you had enough adventure for the night.

===+++===

That was your first unofficial meeting, at least. You almost forgot it had happened the following morning, except for when Wednesday showed up in class the next day looking more displeased and unhappy to be there than normal.

It was amusing how frustrated she was, mouth drawn into an annoyed line and eyes looking especially dark. When she caught your eye as she went to take her seat, you averted your gaze back down to your notebook to hide your cheeky smile, resuming your doodle in the margin and running a nervous hand through your hair.

She kept staring throughout the lecture, as if silently daring you to mention her failure, not that you could aloud. You weren’t willing to look back, but you could see her dark eyes shift up and across the round of tables towards you from the corner of your eye, which you made sure to keep on Thornhill.

After long enough, Xavier noticed too. He whispered something to her and then glanced up at you with a look that was far from friendly. He hadn't liked you one bit, but neither did any of the other kids, when they found out. You couldn't exactly blame them, either. The school was full of monsters, but you were a monster among monsters.

"Wednesday, Xavier," Thornhill called out, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry, though. More playful. "Is something more important than our study of carnivorous plants?"

Xavier began to shake his head, starting an apology, but Wednesday cut him off, blankly staring back at Thornhill as it left her mouth. "Yes."

At the challenge, the whole class seemed to let out a comically loud gasp. Thornhill's previously teasing smile dropped to a displeased frown, and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls, motioning to the large glass enclosure on the table behind her. "I don't suppose you can tell me what this is, then?" At the question, you can see Bianca smirk and raise her own hand, eager to steal it away, "I haven't said the name out loud yet, and it will be on your test next—"

"—Dendrophylax lindenii." The interruption came swift from her lips, but Wednesday's eyes are still steeled over and unimpressed by Thornhill's attempt to be put on the spot.

You have to hide your amusement again, at the shocked look on Bianca's face, but she rushes to make up for it by adding something of her own. "It's also known as the Ghost Orchid—”

"—First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1852," Wednesday adds, and once more she's won. Or, she would have. You can't help the shake your head does, or the cheeky smile on your face that Wednesday locks onto, like a heatseeking missile. Her eyes are like daggers, stabbing you through and through. "Is something funny?"

She says it across the entire classroom and everyone goes silent, less focused on the plants now and more the fact that she's acknowledging your presence. You shrug, trying to diffuse the situation, but it only makes her glare at you harder. "No, go on," Wednesday demands, her tone just as icy as she had been the night before. "Tell us, what was so funny?"

"Wednesday," Thornhill warns her, sending you a sympathetic look, but she ignores her and so do you.

"Or are you still at a loss for words," she draws out, and in doing so, the rest of the class fills with 'ooh's and 'woah's. You stare at her for a moment, then silently, your hand goes to your notebook.

The moment you begin writing in it, the classroom tenses again, waiting for you to finish. You make them as big as possible, large enough that she'll be able to clearly read them across the room. When you're done, you flip it around and hold it up like a sign, face blank.

discovered 1854, not 1852

idiot.

You've circled it several times in messy pen, to make sure she really sees. The room roars even louder in surprise, and however bad Wednesday's stare was before, the new one she gives you is infinitely worse. Her face is still deadpan, but her eyes flick away down to her notebook. It’s the only time you’ve seen her approach something resembling embarrassment or fury. You're sure the 'idiot' bit didn't help, but you were far too annoyed by her poking of you to not have poked her right back.

"Well...," Thornhill tries, "It seems the Ghost Orchid isn't the only carnivorous plant in here, today." But the class is too far gone to focus up again, sending you wary glances. They don't like Wednesday, but they like you even less, so it's confusing who they should root for.

You hold her gaze until the bell rings, finally breaking it to gather your things and leave as soon as possible. Her eyes are still on you as you go, and just before you exit the room, you can hear someone mutter "freak," under their breath. You tuck your books under your arm, and duck out into the hall.

===+++===

Fall was always your favourite time of year; for once, Jericho wasn't entirely unbearable. The leaves turned a warm orange and red, falling from the trees in abundant piles on the ground, and the air fermented into something crisp and especially breathable. You let it fill your nose as much as possible.

You sat on the lawn, listening to the birds flit about and the wind brush under the branches and hem of your jumper with a book in your lap and a frown on your face. It wasn't a good book- something the internet had said was incredible but had firmly left a bad taste in your mouth, and part of you wanted to put it down and turn to something more useful. But another part of you wanted to keep reading, like being unable to look away from a car accident.

The book was so engrossing in its awfulness that you didn't notice her watching you from afar or, more so, aiming in your direction. That was, until you turned the page, and her throwing knife whizzed past your ear and lodged itself into the tree you had been sitting against.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the noise, and you turned your head to the side, looking at the shiny, reflective silver. The letters W. A. stared back at you, engraved just below the knife's spine. You frowned, and when you looked back, she was standing over you, arms crossed and expression as deadpan as always.

You raised a questioning eyebrow, looking over at the knife and then back to her as if saying, 'What was that for?'

"Your attention was required," she replied dryly.

You rolled your eyes, dog-eared the page of your book, and placed it down next to you, pulling out your notebook and your pen. You wrote a single word.

dangerous.

"Believe me, if I wanted to hit you, I am entirely capable of aiming to kill," Wednesday said. Then, after a brief look around Nevermore's green, her eyes flicked back down to you. "I'm here on business."

You search her face for a moment, narrowing your eyes. They locked in on the small bandage on her forehead, and you nodded up at it, asking her what happened with the look on your face. Her frown deepened.

"I'm in the process of crushing a bee... and almost getting crushed by a gargoyle." You blinked, but Wednesday continued. "But I won't have to do either if you agree to my request."

It's hard to deny that her words massively pique your interest. Wednesday in general massively piques your interest, and you write down the thing you really want to know.

people say you eat human flesh...

You turn the page back to her, and Wednesday seems to process the words for a moment. She looks over at you, unimpressed by the allegation. "I don't eat it. My menagerie of pets do. And even then, that's nothing close to what Enid's said about you."

You stare up at her, then scribble a couple of words on the paper.

and what's that?

"That you're dangerous. That you’re somehow infinitely worse than I am, which I'm doubtful of," Wednesday says without missing a beat. "Enid won't say anything more, and neither will Xavier." She looks around again, over the green. There's a picnic of sirens by the lake, and a few of the werewolves are playing with a frisbee. She looks back at you. "I've been warned to stay away, and your propensity for being obnoxious has made that task fairly easy so far." You begin to write again.

so why are you here

"Because," she states like it's obvious, "I want to break out of here. And you're somehow the person to have gotten the closest."

and yet

i'm still here

You turn the page to her and jab the bottom bit several times with your pointer finger.

"Well then," she says, "help me succeed."

===+++===

“And how do you think that made you feel?” Kinbott asks, eyeing her various pages of notes to the left of you. Some of the other patients in Kinbott’s care had small, yellow folders, but you had a larger red one, with your name in highlighted block letters on the front. It looked like it should’ve had a top secret sticker in the corner, not that you weren’t appreciative about your records being sealed.

You erased the board, writing a single word.

seen

Then, underneath it.

idk, like i was really there?

Kinbott nodded. “You’ve said people often ignore you a lot. Why do you think that is?”

they’re scared. they think i’ll hurt them because they heard rumours about what i did.

i can’t blame them, really

She frowned, wrapping her hands around her knee. “But that’s not really fair, is it? When was the last time you’ve caused damage with your ability, (Y/n)?”

You shrug, thinking for a moment.

about four years

“And you haven’t made any sort of mistakes, right?”

well, no

“Then why should they be afraid of you?” Kinbott asks. She’s leaning forward, looking at you with her eyes softened. “You’ve trained yourself to silently yawn, you don’t cough, you don’t sneeze, you don’t snore. I think you need to trust yourself a little more, (Y/n).”

You shrug again, but don’t write anything down, so Kinbott sighs and sits back in her chair. “Principal Weems says that she has another little Harry Houdini on her hands?”

You write down Wednesday on your board. She nods. “I’m seeing her in a little while, actually.” It makes your eyebrows raise in surprise.

why?

Kinbott shakes her head. “You know I can’t share that. Therapy is private. It seems she doesn’t plan on staying, though. Wednesday has already tried to escape.”

i know.

she asked me to help her

Her eyes scan over the words and then look back up to you, warily. “You know better than to help her, right? Nevermore could be good for Wednesday. And I thought you were actually starting to like it here.”

You nod.

i already said no

it’s too dangerous, in the woods right now. with the attacks and stuff.

“Good. And please, tell Principal Weems if you learn of any plans in the future.” You nod again, much less committed, and Kinbott looks down at her watch. “I’m afraid our time is over, (Y/n),” she says with a smile. “I’ll see you next week.”

You write a quick thank you down and stand, shoving your socks back into your shoes and tugging on your jumper, tucking it underneath the collar of your shirt and fixing your Nevermore tie. Purple stripes was never your pattern, and Weems had long since given up on trying to make you wear the coat. She figured it probably made you less likely to run away.

Wednesday is sitting in the lobby when you get down the stairs, with a bored-looking Weems come to babysit. You send her a glance, and then give Weems a nod of your head in acknowledgment.

She beams back at you. “Ah, (Y/n). We’re here for Miss Addams’ session. If you want to wander around Jericho, we can take you back to the school when we're done, if you’d like.”

You send another look at Wednesday, whose face is just as deadpan and unhappy as before, and shake your head. You point at yourself and then mime walking with your two fingers. Principal Weems frowns, but gives you and okay, and you turn around to leave.

You can feel Wednesday’s eyes on you as you head for the school. You know she's annoyed by your refusal to help her, but you can't exactly tell her why you're refusing either, especially since you're lacking any evidence for your theory. So you just told her no.

===+++===

Even from deep inside the forest, you can hear the carnival. There's a Ferris wheel towering over the trees in front of you, and circus music blasts from a few speakers so that you can faintly hear it amongst the windy branches, leaves blowing along the ground and caressing your shoes from time to time as you walk through the dark.

You're looking for something, anything, indicating someone would've been there. Sheriff Galpin had found all sorts of hikers, recently, all almost unidentifiable, with how bloodied they were, but they had yet to find anyone with a hearing aid, so you were unsatisfied. It was believed he was on vacation, but you knew the old man went to his therapy appointments every single week. He hadn't missed a single day, so you failed to believe that theory. You didn't even know his name, really.

On a tree not too far from you, there was a claw mark sunk deep into the bark, and you looked towards it, at the pattern. The idea a bear was responsible for all the deaths wasn't exactly convincing, and looking at the claws, your doubts only amplified. You pulled out your camera, aiming it towards the mark, ready to snap a shot, when you heard footsteps pounding past you.

"Rowan!" called a voice behind you, and you froze, putting the camera down and flicking your flashlight off. The last thing you needed was word getting out that you were lurking in the woods. People thought you were scary enough.

But the words weren't directed at you. You listened intently, and then you heard the faint but panicked voice again. "Rowan," Wednesday says again, and the moment you realise it's her voice, you take off running towards it.

You find Rowan with his hand held up, crushing Wednesday against a tree, and before you can stop to think, you're rushing forward, shoving him in the back and pushing him into the dirt, where he struggles to catch his breath. The moment his hand splays out in front of him, Wednesday is dropped to the forest floor. You run to her, checking her over quickly for injuries, making sure she can run. When you find none, you grab her arm, hoisting her to her feet. You send a wary look over at Rowan, who's already trying to right himself and take Wednesday's hand in yours, pulling her deeper into the forest.

It isn't long before you hear him calling out. "Wednesday!" he yells, and you freeze, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her behind a tree. You push her flush against the bark and cover her mouth with your hand, getting as close as possible so that you hide better against the trunk. She seems too scared to comment on the touch, eyes wide and chest heaving from the running. You raise your other hand and press your finger to your lips.

"Wednesday, I'm doing Nevermore a favour," he tries again. "One massive favour. You're dangerous. My mother's seen it. I can see it. Anyone who knows you can see it."

Your eyes flicker to Wednesday's in confusion, processing his words. She's staring up at you, eyes dark and full of worry, begging for him not to find you. Any idea you had about her not getting scared goes out the window. She's just as human as you are. You send her a comforting nod, peeking around the tree trunk. Rowan's a few trees away, with his back turned, scouring the area.

You begin to back away from Wednesday, gesturing over your shoulder. If you both can sneak off and go back to the carnival without Rowan noticing, you can ensure safety. She gives a curt nod, letting you take her hand in yours again. You're faster than her, she knows that. You slowly pull her with you, quietly stepping away and towards the fair.

You only make it a few steps, until Wednesday steps on a branch.

The small twig cracks under her boot, and within an instant, Rowan whips his head around to you both, staring back at him like a pair of deer in headlights. He takes a few menacing steps forward. "There you are," he draws out in between wheezy breaths. His hand comes up, ready to crush her, but before he can use his ability, a large, hulking creature grabs him by the leg, whipping him around and down onto the ground.

You and Wednesday watch in horror as Rowan screams, and the creature rears up on its hind legs, coming down and smashing Rowan with its fists. You can hear the crunching of his bones and then the tearing of flesh as the creature's claws dig into the boy's skin. Wednesday's hand is still in yours, and she squeezes it harshly, small black fingernails digging into the back of your hand, pulling you down to the ground with her and then scooting back.

The attack is short but brutal, and you see bits of Rowan's chest go flying and pure red maw. The creature whips around to you when Rowan goes silent, staring at Wednesday with intensity in its big eyes. Then it scrambles off, tearing through the woods and into the darkness.

As soon as it's gone, Wednesday rushes forward in the leaves, going to Rowan's side. You clamber to your feet, watching the direction the creature went with wide eyes. When you turn back to Wednesday, you catch her shoving something in her pocket. You don't ask what it is, but you make a mental note to ask later.

"Please," she says, a bit panicked. Her fingers are coated in Rowan's blood. "Go get Weems."

===+++===

Another not-too-awful thing about Nevermore was the breakfast. You sat at an abandoned picnic table in the corner of the quad, finishing your eggs, when Wednesday slammed her hands down on the wood with a loud thunk. You jumped in your seat, startled by the noise, dropping your egg back onto your plate.

"What exactly did you see last night?" she demanded, glaring.

Your eyes widened at her tone. It was harsher than normal, and she wore her frustration on her sleeve. A few students at nearby tables sent you suspicious and wary glances. Over Wednesday's shoulder, you could see her roommate, Enid, staring at you.

Most important was Weems, who looked down at you from the balcony above. You composed yourself and looked back down to Wednesday, shrugging nonchalantly, as if to say you didn't know.

Wednesday gritted her teeth harder. "But you do know. We saw Rowan get eviscerated by that creature. You were there. So why did you tell Weems you didn't see anything?!"

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head at her, doubling down. This was no place to get into it. No place to tell the truth. You slid your notebook towards her.

i saw him this morning.

She huffed, stomping off. You knew exactly why you saw him that morning, actually. Weems had shown you her powers a time or two, and you knew that 'Rowan' was just her in disguise. But you also didn't know if it was something you wanted to share yet. You, too, had been a bit miffed at seeing Weems pretend to be Rowan, but you also knew Weems' powers gave her an advantage, and you were too loyal to take that away from her. You owed her too much.

The question of why still rang in your mind, though. Why was she so eager to cover it up? She had never at least lied to you, so this lie seemed out of left field.

You saw the fake Rowan several times throughout the day. Each time you did your best to let Weems know you knew, and she seemed wary of you, avoiding you at every intersection. You spent the night thinking, wandering around Nevermore, stopping in the library and pulling out several books.

Wednesday had shoved something in her pocket, something that Rowan had. Something about her dooming Nevermore, about being dangerous. You raked through all the books about prophecies, not finding anything of interest and giving up at around one in the morning. No books were missing a piece of paper, and no books mentioned Wednesday's name. You could find a few references to someone named Goody, but she seemed unimportant among the other Addams ancestors, having been dead for hundreds of years. You made another mental bookmark to look more into it, later.

You trudged back to your dorm, already regretting your choices, considering you had an 8 am class in the morning. The school was peaceful again, and as you climbed the stairs, you could hear the trickle of the fountain.

But the moment your shoe placed itself upon the landing, you froze. Your door hung open slightly, just cracked, and right in the way was the same hand you had seen on your first night. You straightened up, feeling more awake, and more annoyed, now.

You pushed your own door open, knocking loudly on the wood like it wasn't your own room, illustrating your frustration. Wednesday turned towards you, unimpressed. She had your journal in her hands, the other one not meant for your communication but for your theories.

It was open to the photo you had just taken, of the claw mark. Right above it you had put the photo of the deaf old man, and right on the photo of the claw mark, you had 'Rowan' written in red sharpie and underlined several times.

You crossed your arms, glowering at her. The hand scuttled towards her, stopping halfway. "So you were hiding something," Wednesday says. "You know that Rowan isn't Rowan. You know he's dead."

You silently swallow, crossing the room until you are right in front of her. Wednesday's eye contact is intense, and you look down at your own notebook, feeling her watching you as you take it from her hands. You can feel her breath fanning against your face, and she smells like pomegranate and fresh petrichor. You turn the page to the drawing you've made of the creature. It's a little off; some of the details are fuzzy regarding last night. But it's the creature as best as you can remember it, and Wednesday nods.

"That's what I saw, too. That's what I want to find," she says. "That's what you're going to help me find."

This time, you can't find it in yourself to refuse.

===+++===

this was the first episode and a bit of episode 2. i really liked doing the mute reader but boy is it hard to write communication without dialogue. it does so much heavy lifting for characterisation. can't wait to see where this one goes, and it'll probably take me two or three parts to get through the whole season, is my hope.

[snaileer]

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks - 2

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/766471879423885312/im-a-size-medium-thanks

Danny stares into the eyes of what has got to be the grumpiest looking 12-14?10? How tall are children?- year old he’s ever met. And he grew up with Sam!

Danny looks back through the door, hoping to everything that an adult walks through. He is disappointed.

“Well?” The boy snaps, foot tapping.

“Uh, can I help.. you?” Danny says, voice ticking up. That’s what you’re supposed to say at a job right? Or maybe the kid wasn’t supposed to be here, “Do you need to call someone…?” He hopes not, he doesn’t know how or if the shop has a phone, and his… well his is wired through a realm of the dead so enough said there.

“My name is Damian Wayne.” He says primly. And expectantly.

Danny looks outside again, past the neon sign he specifically hadn’t turned on, then back at the Damian kid, blinking. There’s no way this was that ‘Mr.Wayne.’

The kid rolls his eyes impressively well then drops his glare back onto Danny, “Has this absurd incense burned away whatever meager sense you were born with? I am here to have a so-called ‘reading’ with a medium.”

If Danny hadn’t seen this Damian kid walk in with three whisps of shades wrapped around his arms, Danny would have questioned why, but he did, so he doesn’t.

He does, however, say: “Aren’t you a little young… to be like.. talking about death or something?” Though honestly, the incense is a real concern, Danny hadn’t even lit any today, Claire had just left it burning and the whole room was saturated.

“Will you fulfill your job description or not, you peasant?” The kid grits out.

Danny would really rather not. Like really rather not. But nOoo, here he was, waiting for a portal that could show up at any time, pretending he was a medium for a 7 year old just because he could talk to ghosts.

Danny sighs and drags himself around the counter to go into Claire’s weird little seance room. Maybe the fumes will kill him before the embarrassment does.

The kid follows.

Danny drops himself into Claire’s chair with weirdly plush armrests for still being so uncomfortable.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with. I’m Danny, the -ugh- medium. Whatdya wanna know?” Danny says as he kicks his leg out to hit a shade getting agitated and grabby by Damian’s feet. They got way too much of a spiritual boost from this room for Danny to be comfortable with it.

Damian watches him with a raised eyebrow, still not sitting down, “Aren’t you meant to lead the seance?”

Danny’s lip curls in distaste, he huffs a sigh and lets his shoulders drop, opening his mouth to tell this 9-year old something easy about one of his shades and be done-

He spots a sticky note stuck on the crystal ball.

-Danny, don’t forget, the showmanship is important! I trust you know how to meet expectations! Happy first day!

- Claire <3

Danny feels his face go deadpan. He was going to have this woman committed. That’s what he was going to do. She could be studied for the degenerative cognitive effects of being freaking bazonkers.

Danny plucks the note off the crystal ball and crumples it, letting the trash drop to the abyss that is Claire’s plush carpet.

He sighs, looking back up at Damian. The kid snaps his head towards him from where he’d been poking around the curtained walls- weirdo- but Danny beats him to the snappy comment.

“You got any spiritually charged items? Or like… something?” Danny says, taking a guess, he can make the thingy glow, say some nonsense, get paid, and close.

Damian narrows his eyes at him, but slowly moves to sit in the other chair, perched on the edge of the seat. He pulls something from his pocket and sets it on the table.

Pearls.

It’s a clump of shiny white pearls.

Absolutely dripping in ectoplasmic blood stains. So lovely.

Does Claire have biohazard gloves because oh gosh-

Danny hesitantly reaches for the pearls, lifting the strand between two fingers as he looks between it and the 12 year old. “You sure this is what you want to ask about?”

The kid’s glare turns challenging, mocking, “What? Admitting you are nothing but a charlatan?”

Danny grimaces, “Not quite. I mean…” He looks at the pearls again, then at the shade trying to hack away at the kids neck, “There’s definitely someone or something attached to this it’s just… not .. yours.”

“Tt,” the boy clicks his tongue at him, “and how exactly would you know that, charlatan?” Damian levels a mocking look up and down at him.

Danny’s eye twitches as he grimaces a smile, “Part of the job-“ brat. Danny doesn’t say that. Danny can’t say that. Danny has to deal with death obsessed TODDLERS who want to talk about some rando’s gruesome murder just so he can eat tonight. Or find somewhere to sleep. He doubts this will be enough for both.

Maybe if he’s dramatic enough.

Alright get to it then, Danny.

He sighs, dimming the light with Claire’s little remote- he is not so far gone as to turn them green like she had- and actually focusing his energy on the pearl necklace.

“What are you-“

Danny holds up a finger at Damian to silence him, which surprisingly works. He closes his eyes and starts trying to absorb the ectoplasmic remains as slowly as he can.

Feelings of course come with it and- well what’d ya know, he can definitely feel this attached to a ghost somewhere in this city.

“It’s a woman’s… younger than she should have been when she…”

He can hear Damian scoff, “Obviously, anyone could tell me that.”

Danny rolls his eyes under his eyelids, debating the merits of opening one to glare at him when his eyes are definitely glowing.

“She’s still here but-“ Danny says instead, trying to pull on the connection wandering out into the streets, “She can’t come here here.”

“What do you mean?” The boy snaps.

Danny tries to focus harder on it himself, he’s never done this before, tried to find or community with a ghost from an object… it was like Pointdexter and his mirror.

“She’s stuck somewhere… somewhere more important.. it’s dark and narrow and Danny mentally rears back as images flash into his mind. Accompanied of course by a woman’s scream.

An alley. A gun. A man stepping in front of her to protect her- no not her- a kid- Damian- not Damian- looks like-

Danny opens his eyes and drops the necklace. There’s barely any ectoplasm left on it.

Fine with him, he never wants to touch it again.

“Well?” An impatient voice asks and- oh yeah that’s right, the rude ass kid.

Danny pushes the pearls across the table with a finger and looks up at him, “Woman in an alley, that familiar to you?”

Damian’s eyes narrow, “Anyone who knows who I am could tell me the same.”

Danny snaps, “I don’t-!“ This is a child Danny, a child, “Well she was scared for the kid, and now is… proud of him? There’s a lot of concern there, but she still watches him I guess, so that’s all I got for ya.”

Damian scrutinizes him for a minute, silent. Darn, weren’t mediums supposed to be vague as heck so that anything could apply and the person would find their own meaning? But did it count if he was just translating the vibes off a shade half a city away?

“This is…. acceptable.”

Danny nearly sags in relief and moves to stand, “Cool, then-“

“Wait.” The kid holds up a hand, “You said something regarding a disparity in the proposed ownership of the apparition you believed to be related to this jewelry.”

Danny blinks at him dumbly.

Damian scoffs again, “That the apparition attached to this necklace was ‘not mine,’ as you said??” He snarks, putting air quotes up.

Danny slowly sinks back down into the chair. “… Well yeah I mean..” does he tell this 8 year old about the slightly murderous shades he’s got around him? “You have… you have a couple… apparations… yourself. Not related to the pearls that is.” Danny says hesitantly, eyes skipping over said shades.

Damian jerks his head to follow his eyes and Danny shirks back, eyes back on the kid.

“Who are they? Tell me now,” Damian demands, standing to loom over the table.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender, “Whoa, I don’t know about that, they don’t really seem too happy with you-“ Another one tries to slice his hand through Damian’s neck, “I think you did something to them or made them angry at some point. I don’t really think you should try to contact them-“ Danny winces, that could end very badly. Thank goodness for limited ectoplasm access.

Meanwhile, his answer seems to have only made Damian more upset, his eyes wide as he stares down at Danny.

Suddenly the kid turns and stamps towards the door, leaving Danny to hurriedly push the chair out and chase after him to the main room.

Except-

When he gets there Damian is already shooting hushed insults at a man standing amongst the crystals.

The man looks vaguely like Damian, black hair, blue eyes, lithe build, and oh also- surrounded by shades of course.

These ones seem less vicious at least.

Please don’t be here for him. Please don’t be here for him.

Danny really doesn’t want to try and fake his way through another hour or however long it’s been of that.

“Hey there! I’m Dick, Damian’s brother!” The man says suddenly, pushing Damian aside and coming forward with a cheery grin, “Thanks for humoring him!”

Danny tilts his head to see Damian’s scowling face behind the man. Right.

“Uh huh… I’m Danny.” He says, trying not to be distracted by what he’s pretty sure is a baby elephant’s ghost behind him.

“You’re the medium right? We were just so interested to see if that old family heirloom would have anything or not. We-“

“We?” Damian cuts him off with a scoff, “I will meet you in the vehicle Richard. I will not spend another minute in this house of charlatans.”

They both watch as the kid turns and stomps out the door, uncrossing his arms only to open the door and stomp out. The stupid bell rings merrily.

This time it’s not Danny who sighs.

“I wish he wouldn’t say things like that,” Dick says wearily, “I grew up in places like this.” There’s a note of nostalgia to his voice. Danny just eyes the bowl of ‘fertility’ crystals warily.

Dick must see him do it because he huffs a laugh, “I’m Roma, Romani that is. I grew up in a circus originally,” he explains, “So psychic places always just kinda remind me of my auntie’s tents.”

Danny glances at the elephant shaped ghost again, “Wow that makes so much sense actually.”

The guy raises a confused eyebrow at him.

Danny coughs awkwardly, waving it away, “So, money?” He claps, “I’m guessing you’re paying since Damian is…” Danny trails off, opting not to make a final guess on age and embarrass himself.

Dick laughs again and they go over to the counter, “Yep, here-“ He pulls out his wallet, rifling through cash before pulling some out, “Cash only yeah? This should be enough.”

Danny stares at the stack of slightly rumpled bills, “But- huh?…” that was… that was so much…

“Oh I added extra since I’m sure he probably said some things he shouldn’t have, don’t worry about it.”

Dick is already halfway out the door when Danny reloads and jerks upwards, “Wai-“

Could Danny really stop him? Should he? He needed this money but… he stops to count it. $20..40..60..80..100..120….140……160….180……….$200.

Danny blanches. He lurches for the door, no way he can take this much money just for basically acting as a glorified ecto-translator.

Danny stops in his tracks as he steps outside the shop and spots Dick and Damian speaking to a third, much older person, over the hood of a sleek black car.

This person, of course, also has several, several, shades around them.

What the hell was wrong with this family?

Damian turns and glares his way.

Oh ancients what if they were part of the mob or something.

Danny spins around on his heel-

And smacks straight into the glass door of the shop.

…

Ow.

Danny rubs his nose as he fumbles around for the door handle, acutely aware the death covered family was probably staring at him.

He grabs the handle and pulls-

Danny freezes, hand on his sore face stopping. He opens his eyes as he yanks again. Nothing.

Oh heck, he just locked himself out didn’t he?

No please no, they were so definitely still staring, no way they weren’t. Danny pulls again and it finally-

He looks at the door handle in his hand.

Then at the door still closed in front of him.

Then back at the door handle.

Just the door handle.

Crap.

Danny nearly weeps, clumsily fitting the door handle back on and still adamantly refusing to look and see if Damian and his absurdly rich family has left yet. Other people on the street are also starting to stare. The same reason he can’t just use his powers.

He finally gets the handle back on and gingerly lets go of it.

Ok. Deep breath.

Claire warned you about this. With a sticky note, but all the same. Extra key is taped on the bottom of the fire hydrant right outside the shop. You’ve got this.

Danny turns, kneels, and frantically begins trying to find the key on the absurdly dirty fire hydrant.

His hands come away black with grime, but thankfully he has the key.

He puts it in the lock and turns it, hearing what may very well be the newest sound of his nightmares: a snap.

Most specifically the sound of the key snapping in Danny’s very hands.

Danny stared at the half of the key still held between his fingers.

Did he do something to this city? Was this his fault? Could he not just sit in a closet and wait for the portal to open and go home?

Danny sags against the door, and resigns himself to his fate. Maybe he can go get food… with the money he left on the counter. Great.

Danny peeks his eyes sideways and catches the guy, Dick, finally getting into their car.

Okay, just a tiny bit just a bit. Danny holds the key again, focuses on the lock in the door jam and….. intangible!

He yanks the door open and jumps inside, door closing against the flutters of quickly fading shades on the street.

And more than one scream at them but hey that’s not his problem.

Mostly.

Danny revels in the cool lighting of the shop, glaring at the stupid broken key in his grimy hands. He drops the useless bit of metal on the counter, pockets the cash and wipes his hands on the backside of one of Claire’s million wall curtains.

It leaves a black stain that basically disappears when Danny folds the fabric over it.

Oh well.

Technically the shop was still open.

And technically, Danny didn’t know if the lock did or didn’t work right now.

He went to find whatever storage closet Claire used to store her absurd number of crystals.

He finds it- finally- and using the keys he left in the store to begin with, he is able to unlock the perfect place to sleep tonight amongst several packages of…. Some kind of incense powder… or something. He doesn’t really care because that plan of hiding in a closet till the portal opens? Yeah, Danny’s putting that into action right the frick now.

He bends down to start to lay out his sweatshirt over the cardboard bed-to-be.

A bell rings in the distance.

Danny is going to destroy that bell on the door, he swears it.

[moonstruckme]

absolutely live for ur roommate!james could you maybe write one on him meeting some of readers friends for the first time or calling james to pick u up after a girls night 😇would love to see him finally feel “included” in our life like we are in his

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

James is so absorbed in the football match on his phone that when there’s a tap on the window next to his face, he jolts halfway across the center console and squeaks like he’s twelve years old again. 

You’re beaming outside the car. Your shoulders shake with quiet, un-self-conscious laughter, so it’s impossible for James to be any kind of upset. Still, he makes a show of huffing a little as his own smile spreads. He reaches over and opens his door. 

“Sorry,” you say. You don’t look it, so he lets you off the hook for your over-apologizing. 

“Who do you think would drive you home if I had a heart attack?” James asks. He’s somewhat breathless, either because of the scare or the easier-than-usual grin still fixed on your face. 

You lean against the side of his car and roll your eyes. “Oh, your heart’s too healthy to be in danger of attacks.” 

“What are you doing on this side of the car? You’re the passenger, you know.”

“Okay, listen.” You give him a very intentional look. It’s more eye contact than he’s used to from you, and it makes his guts go all twisty in a surprisingly nice way. “It’s completely up to you, of course, but I think I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.” 

It clicks into place. “You’re drunk.” 

“Not very.” Your grin is a short fall from impish. Your eyes sparkle. God help him. “But you’re about to be.” 

James feels his eyebrows float up. “How do you figure?” 

“Because I’ve come to collect you. If you want.” 

“To collect me…where?”

“Inside,” you say, as though this should be obvious. You tip your head towards the restaurant. “We’ve just closed, and we have so much wine. Pleasepleaseplease, James, come in.” 

“Okay.” He’s letting you tug him from his car before he knows what he’s agreed to, only that one please will always be enough to get whatever you want from him. “Alright, love, but doesn’t your manager mind that you’re drinking their wine?” 

You let loose a bark of laughter, loud and sharp and totally unlike you. “Tom? Yeah, right.” 

Tom, James learns quickly upon entering the rowdy atmosphere of your workplace after hours, is younger than the both of you, hardly old enough to serve alcohol and yet managing the restaurant. And the wine isn’t stolen, necessarily, but the fortunate leavings of a wealthy customer who bought more bottles than his table could handle and then left nearly all of them. 

Everyone who’d been on the night shift is strewn about the empty restaurant. Servers and busboys and dishwashers all perched on stools, standing behind the bar, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on tables. You take James by the hand, first reclaiming the bottle of wine you’d evidently stored behind the host’s station and then leading him around the room to introduce him to various coworkers. His hand feels warm and tingly. You have an easy repartee and a million in-jokes with the servers, but even the kitchen staff seems to adore you. As they rightly should, James thinks. It’s obvious you’re as kind and considerate here as you are at home, and he feels a bit silly for not having been able to picture you in this place so clearly before now. 

Art is working with you again tonight. It’s embarrassing, the warm wave of relief that James feels when he notices you don’t pay him any extra attention. He makes a mental note to extend his offer of a ride home more often. Every time your hand starts to slip from James’, you readjust your grip before he can even think of doing it himself. Suits him just fine; ever since your mugging incident, suddenly James is in this weird place where he always wants a hand on you.

You say his name, and then the lip of a bottle is being pushed against his lips. 

“You haven’t had hardly any.” You look like you’re trying to pout, but your eyes are smiling. 

James takes the bottle from you. He looks you in the eyes as he takes a sip as if to say, Happy? It’s barely enough to warm his throat. “I am still driving us home, you know.”  

The pout is getting better. “I know, but I’m trying to be fun for you. You don’t have to drive us if you don’t want to! You’re always the one doing the nice things.” 

“Oh, don’t.” His tone is fonder than he means for it to be, but luckily you’re too tipsy to mind. “You’re plenty fun. You do nice things for me all the time.” 

“Yeah, but not enough to balance out.” You make your eyes big and pitiful. James feels fortunate this isn’t a skill you seem inclined to utilize sober. “Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—Jamie, don’t hold back because of me, please.” 

His stomach does an impressive flip. He doesn’t think you realize you’ve called him that, doubts you’d have done it under normal circumstances, but his nervous system cares not for rationalizations. He wants desperately to hear you say it again. 

You beam as James lifts the bottle to his lips again, taking a few hearty gulps. You both end up walking home that night, but you wake even before James to go retrieve his car in the morning.

[yamumsyadadd]

Sometimes all you need is a little love

At 5, you were loved. Your mum and dad adored you. Everything was about you and your parents.  They worked hard, and in return you got to fulfil your dream of being a footballer. 

At 8, things started to change. Sundays that were usually filled with church in the morning, and Barcelona games in the afternoon slowly started to disappear. 

Your mum and dad were fighting. She was looking frail, unwell, a shell of herself. He looked angry, distant, with marks on his arms, coming home smelling like cigarettes and flowers. It was a weird smell, it would linger in the air for hours to come. 

Gone were the days when they would both come to your football. It was one or the other, sometimes even none of them. 

At 10, you found her. Hanging. You just sat there, watching her. Eventually going to the neighbours you thought you knew. Turns out they moved out and there was a new family. An older lady, Eli. She let you come inside and called for help while distracting you with cookies and her white fluffy dog. 

From that day, things changed. Your father’s love became less and less. His violence and drinking became more. He had a new girlfriend every other month. Barely lasting the entire calendar month. 

By age 12, La Masia came knocking. A full scholarship was on offer. It was your dream. Something you and your parents had worked hard for, together. Expect now it was just you. Forging your dad’s signature, you dropped the forms back off. Transferring to their academy the week later. 

La Masia was hard. Harder than you expect. Maybe it was because things at home were worse than ever before, your dad lost his job, the random woman continued however now there was random men added into it. Home wasn’t a safe place for you or anyone in that case. 

At 14, things hit an all time low, bruises and marks were becoming harder to hide with your promotion to the Barca B team. They were all so close to each other, hanging out after training, getting food or going shopping, their weekends were all spent together. But not with you. As much as they tried you shielded away from it. School and football were the two things that matter - there was no time for anything else, no time to worry about anything else. 

The closest thing you had to a parent was the lady across the hall, every few days there would be a plate of food at the front door when you arrived home. On Sundays it was a bigger meal, you’d divvy it out so it would last a few extra days. The limited money you did have was given to your dad, you’d keep some of it but it wasn’t enough for the bus fare and food. It was one of the other. 

Every morning you would make the one hour trek from your home in Mollet del Vallès, using that time to do your homework, study plays or rewatch games, sometimes even catching a few more minutes of sleep. Every evening, after training you’d stay and help pack away the equipment, sometime just relishing in the warmth of the facility, the endless hot water, the feeling of safety. 

One night, after missing the last bus, you hide in a supply closet. Knowing there was no way you’d get home that night, you huddled around the spare clothes and clean towels. It oddly was one of the best sleeps you’d had in years. The constant security that would walk around the facility made you feel safe. 

After that initial night, there were many more nights of sleeping at the facility. Was it the best idea? Probably not, but it was the safest, and the warmest. 

15 was when things really changed. At some point, your dad just stopped coming home. He’d be gone for days at a time. This time though, he was gone for almost three weeks. You bloomed in the silence. The apartment was clean, airy, in contrast to the dark, stuffy air that usually resides. 

On Christmas Eve things came to ahead. There wasn’t much food left. A few eggs, some bread and some cereal. No milk, vegetables or anything fresh. Biting the bullet, you made your way across the hall to the older ladies door. She had told you before that if you needed anything, to just knock. So you did, rocking back and forth on your heels, you were shocked when the door swung open and none other than Alexia Putellas, captain of the Barcelona Women’s team, 2 time Ballon D’Or winner, was standing there with a smile on her face. 

“Hola pequeña, are you ok?”

“Oh, um, hola? Is Eli here?” 

“Si, come in.” You stood there for a moment, staring at her, “mami a pequeña is here for you!” Eli, the nice, caring older woman was Alexia Putellas mother. Of course she was. 

“Neña! To what do I owe this visit?” 

“I am very sorry to interrupt and be rude, but I was wondering if you had any milk I could please have? My papi has gone away for a bit and forgot to leave some money.” 

“You’re alone? You’re no older than 16?” A smaller but almost identical person chimed in. 

“Si. I am 15”. A shy nod was all you could muster, the energy you previously had disappeared. 

“Well where did he go? Are you alone for Christmas?” 

“Uh, um a work trip? Si, si, a work trip! He will be back at some point, I’m sure.” It was a lie, a terrible horrible lie and everyone in that room knew. All three older women shared a look. 

“Here is some milk Nena. Do you want to stay for dinner?” 

“No no that’s okay. Thank you for the milk, I will give you money when I get some!” 

“Nonsense dear. It’s just milk.” 

Silently you grabbed the milk and started to walk towards the door, leaving the three women staring at you. Eli’s eyes expressed sadness, Alexia’s were confused, she knew you from somewhere but she couldn’t place it, Alba was bewildered, she remembered being 15 and there was no way in hell that Eli would’ve left her home alone, but especially not over the holiday period. 

“She is a good girl. She studies hard, she’s at La Masia. Always very polite but something is off in the house.” 

Alexia’s head whipped around, “she’s at the academy?” Eli nodded, “how does she get there? it’s a 40 minute drive and she’s not old enough?” 

“I don’t know Alexia, tonight was the most she’s spoken to me since she came asking for the ambulance when her mami died.” 

“That was her?” A nod was all alexia received. For the rest of the night they were all silent, you went to bed with a small amount of food in your stomach. The 8 pieces of French toast were enough to get you through until the farmers market opened on the 26th. 

A dread washed over you the following afternoon when there was a knock at the front door. Opening it slowly, and only half showing your face, Alexia and Alba (you learnt her name after googling Alexia), were standing there. 

“Hola pequeña. Mami asked if you and your papi wanted to join us for dinner?” Alexia voice was firm, almost as if there wasn’t room for you to say no. 

“Um, sure. My papi isn’t back yet, but what time does she want us?” 

“Now-“

“An hour-“ both girls spoke at the same time. Alba wanting to give you time to do whatever you needed, but alexia wanted you father to show himself. Unbeknownst to you, she had reached out to the La Masia staff and a few of the younger girls. 

Vicky and Martina had told her the little information that they knew. You were young, talented and a hard worker. You’d catch the bus to and from training, never really talking to anyone and certainly never hanging out with them. They’d offered to help you with your homework, Vicky realising very quickly that you were both in the same grade despite you being two years younger. Both Vicky and Martina felt that there was something off, never seeing your father or anyone supporting you at games, not even at the international friendly with the under 17s that you’d been called up too. 

“Okay? How about half an hour?” 

“That works. See you soon pequeña!” Alba grabbed her older sisters arm, pulling her away from the door. You slid down the back of yours once it was firmly closed. You needed to think of the perfect lie. Maybe you could say he was too tired, or stuck in traffic. No that wouldn’t work, if he was stuck in traffic they’d wait. The truth wasn’t an option. There’s no way you could just blurt out that you didn’t know where he was. 

The dinner was uncomfortable, the food was delicious but the unasked questions were making a lot of tension. You didn’t miss the way Alba and Eli continued to glance at you, or how their eyes went wide when you asked for more. This definitely cemented that something was wrong. 

The loud clattering of Alexia’s fork and knife, stopped you from shoveling more food in your mouth. 

“This is ridiculous. Pequeña, where is your papi?” 

“Don’t know.” You spoke nonchalantly, putting more food into your mouth. Confused looks where thrown around. Eli’s head slowly reaching for yours and taking the fork, “sweetheart, what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I don’t know. He could be stuck at work, or in traffic or asleep.” I shrugged. It was a semi decent lie. 

“Does he leave for long periods often?” 

“No. It’s usually just a few days.” 

“Where does he go?” 

To get high, to fuck hookers, to steal, “work trips.” 

Thankfully the subject was dropped as Eli gave you back your fork. It didn’t feel like Christmas, no gifts were exchanged, no decorations or Christmas movies. It felt like a Sunday after church, all that was left was a trip to Camp Nou to watch a game but that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever again. 

Eli sent you home when a lot of leftovers, ignoring the comments from her own two daughters that they would’ve liked to have some too. It was enough food for at least a month. You’d eaten plenty at dinner so the need for food tomorrow would be less. 

The following week was a blur. There was only two training sessions and school was off until after the New Year. Your father had yet to make a reappearance and due to the holidays, you were hiding in the house so you wouldn’t have to see any three of the Putellas women and answer questions. 

It worked, for three weeks, until the night you had planned to sleep in the same storage room as usual. Alexia appeared, fresh out of the shower. 

“Pequeña? What are you still doing here? It’s late.” 

“I lost track of time. I was studying.” 

“How are you getting home? Is your papi coming?” 

“No. I’m catching the bus.” You felt guilty lying to her, but it was the best option. No one would get hurt this way. 

“Let me drive you home. It’s late and you really shouldn’t be catching the bus.” 

Before you could argued, she’d grabbed the straps of your bag, dragging it and you along to her car. It was an awkward 40 minutes. Her car was much more comfortable than the bus, warmer and safer. You were still on high alert, especially when she was asking you questions. 

For the past five years you didn’t let anyone get close. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to explain the tiredness that was evident on your face, the random bruises that happened, the obvious weightless from the lack of food. 

From that moment on you silently agreed to keep everyone further way. You had to be more careful, no more roaming the halls after training. No more asking Eli for milk, or bread, or anything. Leaving extra early in the morning or as soon as training ended. No more being vulnerable. 

The day of your 16th birthday was supposed to be a good one. However your father had other plans. You’d been training with the senior team due to some injuries and then needing players, Jona had told you last night he would play you after halftime. A senior debut on your 16th birthday. 

That night you’d come home so incredibly happy only for it to come crashing down when your extremely intoxicated father decided to start a fight over the lack of money. He didn’t stop hitting you for what felt like hours. You weren’t sure if you passed out from the pain or from the exhaustion but you knew the following day it would be hell. 

The house was littered with used needles, smashed and empty bottles, and it smelt of cigarettes and stale booze. Your arms and legs were covered in bruises as well as a shiner on your face. That one would be the hardest to cover. it took an hour and large amount of makeup before you were confident about leaving the house. The bruise was mostly covered. You didn’t think it was that obvious though. The looks you received on the bus, and even as you walked through the halls, didn’t make you question your makeup job. 

True to his word, jona put you on in the 75th minute, subbing Salma off. It was electrifying, a rush you’d never felt before. Then game ended with a win, of course, there was a lot of praise from the older girls. Mario was incredibly impressed and offered to work with you more if you were interested. Something you immediately said yes too. Your bubble was burst when Alexia came over to tell her Eli was there and wanted to see you. 

The moment you were within arms reach of Eli, she could tell something was wrong. So could Alexia’s girlfriend, Olga, who she had just introduced you too. After chatting a bit more, Eli demanded she would take you home, making you hurry to gather your belongings in the locker room, forgoing a shower as you didn’t bring makeup to re-cover the bruise on your face. 

“Olga you need to help her with makeup.” Alba joked before hugging her sister goodbye. Olga and Eli shared a concerned looked. 

“Why is she wearing make up?” 

“Mami she’s 16. Teenagers wear makeup all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Eli shook her head, there was something wrong but she didn’t know what or how to ask you. 

“Ale, keep an eye on her yeah?”

“Olga she’s fine. She’s just a teenager.” Olga’s eyes pleaded with her, “si fine. I will watch over her.” 

Two weeks later things came crashing down horribly. You’d been moved into the senior squad officially, that came with perks. More money was the main one. It would only be a few months until you’d officially graduate high school, that meant you could pick up a part time job as well as football. What you didn’t account for was your father. 

When you walked in the door you were greeted with a random lady and a little boy, no older than 3, your father was very quickly shoving things into boxes and taping them up. 

“What’s going on?” Neither of the adults spared a glance at you. 

“I’m leaving. Thea and I are moving to Madrid.” 

“I can’t leave papi! The season is still going and i haven’t finished school yet!” 

“Good thing you weren’t invited then.” The last scoffed, flipping her son to the other hip. Your eyes were wide. Not believing what you were hearing. 

“Tomorrow, the moving truck will be here. You need to be gone by then.” 

“Wait! Where will I go? You can’t leave me here!” You yelled after them as they left the apartment. No longer caring who heard or who saw. 

“You’re not my problem anymore. I couldn’t care less about what you do or don’t do.” He turned to leave, “you could do the world a favour and hang yourself like your mother did.” With that he was gone. The apartment was mostly empty. 

You found the two biggest bags that you could carry. Filling one with all your football stuff, the other with you clothes, the few jumpers of your mothers that you had left, a sleeping bag and pillow. In your school backpack you packed your laptop and all the school work, plus your important documents (birth certificate, photo IDs, passport.) 

Though you had no idea where you would go, you knew you’d figure it out. What you didn’t account for was Eli. of course she would notice the moving vans, and the lack of you. 

Every second night you’d leave the training facility, set on finding somewhere that was semi safe to sleep. Even though it was the start of February, you knew the beach would be ok. There was enough light to keep you safe, you also had a little knife you stole from your father along time ago. 

The last morning before it all went to shit, you were sitting with your bags, still in your sleeping bag, watching the sunrise. Barcelona was quiet at this time of the morning. A few runners or cyclists around but other than that it was peaceful. 

“Pequeña? What are you doing here so early?” A semi familiar face dropped in front of you, startling you out of your thoughts. Unable to talk, you just stared at her. “I’m Olga, Alexia’s girlfriend. We met a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?” 

I nodded, she continued on, “what are you doing here? Did you sleep here?”

“What? No! No I just like coming here in the mornings!” I hurried to get up, quickly shoving my things back into my bags, that’s when the knife dropped on the sand, right in front of Olga. We both stopped and stared at it. 

“Pequeña-“

“I better go. Enjoy your day.” I quickly picked it up and all but ran towards the bus stop. My thoughts were spiralling. She was going to tell Alexia. I wouldn’t be allowed to play, I’d be sent away somewhere else. 

Training was hell. No matter how much you tried to avoid Irene, Marta or Alexia they always appeared. It didn’t seem that Olga had told Alexia or that anyone else knew but it was only a matter of time. All you needed was a few weeks, just to get through the Copa de la Reina final and then you could figure it out. 

Thankfully the week went fast and the game on the weekend was a success. There were no more run ins with Olga, or any of the captains of the team. You went as far to complete ignore Eli, Alba and Olga after the game. Quickly running into the locker room and showering before anyone else. 

It was harder to hide in the facility after home games. It was busy with trainers, medical staff, admin staff, basically everyone but you figured it out. It was a restless sleep, the close call with Olga playing in your mind on repeat. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eli had mentioned it to Alexia at their usual family dinner post match. 

“Nena moved.” 

“To where?” Both Alba and Alexia’s head shot up. 

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything. I heard her papi say Madrid. I’m assuming she isn’t joining since she’s still playing here.” 

“I’ll find out.” Olga knew in that moment she needed to come clean about finding you on the beach. Clearly you didn’t have somewhere safe to stay. Later that night, when it was just her and Alexia cuddled in their bed she did just that. 

“I saw Nena at the beach the other morning.” 

“Likely place for her to be. She has mentioned loving the beach in the past.” Alexia dismissed what Olga was saying, not particularly understanding why that was important. 

“No ale. I think she slept there. She had a sleeping bag and heaps of stuff.” 

Silence encapsulated the couple. “I’ll deal with it.” was all the captain said before rolling over and going to sleep. Expect, she didn’t sleep. She played through every interaction she’d had with you, every imagine of you in her mind. You looked tired, the light behind your eyes was gone, you had fully retreated back into your shell, barely talking at training or games, only answering questions when directly asked. 

Something was definitely wrong, very very wrong. Enlisting the help of Irene and Marta and Olga, they would find out exactly how wrong it was. 

It was evident when you came into training that you hadn’t slept, the truth was that the beach no longer felt safe. Not after that creepy man was watching you. Staying at the facility every night wasn’t an option, neither was staying with a teammate. So you stay at the train station all night. It was relatively safe, but the thought of that man kept you awake. 

You’d gotten half way through the day when you snapped. Usually you’d try and stick to Caro or Keira’s sides. Caro because she was quiet and Keira because she couldn’t exactly understand you and you couldn’t understand her. Unfortunately the gym groups were assigned differently today, meaning you got stuck with Mapi, Pina, Patri and Cata. The group of people you hated being around the most. There was never a quiet moment, they were always loud. So incredibly loud. 

It was after Mapi had ruffled your hair for the third time that you mumbled for her to stop. 

“We can’t hear you gallina. Speak up.” Patri laughed. 

“I said, don’t touch me. And don’t call me gallina.” Your patience was thinning, and fast. 

“Cheer up gallina. We are just playing.” Mapi went to ruffle your hair again, your hands landing on her chest and shoving her back into Cata. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me Maria!” Everyone stopped, turning in horror to see the scene unfold. Tears welled in your eyes, you bolted as fast as you could. 

“Nena-“ Ingrid tried to grab your wrists but you dodged her. 

Alexia, Irene and Marta all stopped what they were doing. It was extremely unlike you to be so aggressive and rude. No matter how shy you were, you always used your manners. They all shared a look before following you to the locker room. 

You rushed through the locker room trying to get your bags packed as fast as possible. You had no idea where you would go, but you needed to get out of here. Far away from the sympathetic looks of your teammates. You were so far in your own head that you didn’t hear the cleats on the floor or the door to the locker opening. 

“Nena? What’s wrong?” Irene’s hand on your shoulder startled you. 

“Nothing I’m fine. I need to go.” You shrugged her hand off you, putting your backpack on and grabbing your duffle that contained your pillow and sleeping bag. 

“Please let us help Nena. We want to help you but we can’t if you don’t let us.” Marta spoke up next, as you looked up you saw that Alexia was standing between you and the door, the only route out of the locker room. 

“Please move. I want to go home.” 

“Home? Where is that Nena? It’s not in Mollet del Vallès. I know that much.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, yelling at your captains was a horrible idea, truly horrible. Even in this mental state you knew that, “I do not want to be rude Alexia, but it’s none of your business. I come here, I train, I play, I do as I am told, I don’t make trouble or do anything wrong. Please let me leave.” 

Alexia looked troubled. You needed help, that much was clear, but you were right. You did everything that was asked of you, never complaining or whining about it. She looked to Irene for help, Irene simply nodded and alexia moved. 

“If you need help, somewhere to stay, you have my address and you know where Mami is.” 

A curt nod was all she received and then you were gone. As fast as you could walk without causing any attention to yourself. You spent the next few hours walking around. When it was dark and late, the train station was where you headed. It wasn’t until you were comfy that you realised you grabbed the wrong bag. You left your sleeping bag and more importantly your phone charger at the training facility. There wasn’t much that could be done now, you just had to wait it out. 

As you walked into training, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You were late, never have you been late before. The lack of proper sleep, nutrition and your body always on high alert was getting to you. By the end of training you were exhausted. Barely having the energy to walk into the locker rooms to shower. Usually when someone was late without giving a proper warning, they’d run laps. No one told you to run laps so you didn’t. 

A few days later, at the beach, Olga saw you again. This time you looked worse than before. She made her way to a local bakery, getting water, coffee and something for you to eat before making her way back towards you and hoping you wouldn’t run off. 

“¿Niña? Can I sit with you?” She startled you, that much was obvious but you nodded and she handed over everything she bought. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I like the beach.” 

“You’re sleeping here?” She could tell you were scared, it took a while for you to reply. 

“Only sometimes.” 

Olga nodded, the silence settling over the both of you. “Let me take you to training?” 

The drive seem to take forever. It was uncomfortable, Olga wanted to get more information out of you, you wanted nothing more then to be swallowed into a black hole. 

“Niña? If you don’t have anywhere safe and warm to stay, please come to mine and Ale’s? We won’t be mad, or disappointed. We want to help you. Okay?” 

You gave her a small nod, moving to wipe your tears and get out of the car. Unbeknownst to the both of you, Alexia was in her own car a few metres away watching the whole thing. 

It took a day for Alexia to coax all the information out of Olga but when she finally did, she was heartbroken. The thing she had hoped wasn’t true, was in fact true. You were living on the street. Sleeping wherever you could, your papi had left you to fend for yourself. It’s not that you were doing a horrible job at it, but it was obvious you weren’t eating or sleeping enough. 

The night of the El Classico is when things went truly horrible. Alexia had told Irene, Mapi and Marta what had happened but any time they tried to talk to you, you literally ran away.

The streets of Barcelona were well and truly alive. The Madrid fans had left the Johan feeling annoyed, angry and disappointed. Anyone would when their team lost 7-0. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to sleep on the beach that night, but there truly wasn’t anywhere else. The train station would’ve been worse, the facility wouldn’t be quiet until after midnight, and there was no way you’d go to a teammates house. 

You’d only just drifted to sleep when you heard the group of guys approaching. They were drunk, that much was obvious. Pretty quickly you woke yourself up, but you didn’t dare to move. Maybe they would just keep walking. Your back was facing the sea, and them but as soon as they laid their hands on you, you turned around. 

“Oye, it’s the Barca puta.”

“You’re the reason we lost.”

“We should break her legs!” 

The fear set it. As soon as the hits started, they ended. Not only had they assaulted you, but they had stolen your school bag that contained your laptop, water bottle and phone charger. It look a while for the pain to become tolerable. you could recognise that you were bleeding, your ribs hurt, along with your arm, head and leg. You were scared and alone. 

Abandoning the beach, you made your way to the one place you could think of. The two women who had urged you time and time again to let them help you, you had refused but right now you needed it more than anything. With the help of your phone maps, you managed to get to their apartment. It took a lot longer than it should have, having to stop every now and then to take deep breaths when the pain was too bad. 

You weakly raised your fist to the door, the energy was zapped out of you. It felt like forever before someone answered. 

“Hol- holy fuck. Alexia! Come here neña. Let me help you. ALEXIA!” Olga answered the door, annoyed that someone was knocking so late at night. The minute she opened it, she wanted to cry. You were stood there, bloodied and bruised. Seemingly out of it, looking so small and frightened. 

She starting leading you to the kitchen when alexia finally came, “what? Oh my god, pequena! What happened?” 

“Hurt.”

“Where hurts neña?”

“Head bleeding… arm broken, I think… maybe ribs… leg too. Stole my school bag.” Alexia was freaking out, the usual calm, stoic captain was on the verge of tears. 

“We need to call the police Olga! And mami and Irene and-“

“Ale stop. Neña, drink this yes? Alexia is going to get the first aid from the bathroom and we are going to clean you up. We will need to take you to the hospital, but that can wait for a few minutes.” She gave alexia a pointed look while she opened the water bottle and helped you drink. 

Their apartment was soft. Very homey and not clinical like you imagined. There were photos of Alexia and her family, Olga and hers, then of them both. There were plants scattered around, a few awards here and there but not many, the one thing that seemed out of place was the dog bed and toys. 

“Dog?” Olga’s eyes followed yours, confused as to what you were asking. 

“Nala. She died last year but we haven’t been able to get rid of her things.”

“Sorry”. Alexia arrived back with the first aid kit, phone to her ear and a lot less panicked but a lot more mad. that stressed you out, Olga picking up on it straight away. Things moved fast from that point. Alexia and Olga cleaned you up the best they could but ultimately decided that you needed the hospital. It was all a blur. One minute you were in their apartment, the next you were in a hospital gown sitting in a room. 

Alexia was non stop pacing, you sat there, wide eyed waiting for her to say something. 

“You can say it.” You whispered. 

Both girls stopped and looked at you confused, “say what pequena?” 

“I told you so’ or ‘you should’ve let me help’, whatever you have planned just say it.” You could no longer look at them, staring down at the floor. You missed the look of heartbreak sweep across both their faces. 

“No no pequena. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. There’s no ‘I told you so’ to be said. You came to use when you needed help, we are here now to help that’s all that matters. Okay?” Alexia slowly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. 

“I’m sorry.” That was it. All three of you were holding each other crying. Time seemed to blend into one second. You got stitches in your eyebrow and on your leg, your arm was in fact broken and a cast was put on. The doctor seemed to talk and talk, none of the words making any sense. It was until you saw the two police officers standing outside that you seemed to snap out of it. 

The doctor left the room, seemingly to talk to the police officers and give them a run down. Olga noticed how on edge you were very quickly. 

“Hey, neña, they are only here to ask what happened okay? You aren’t in any trouble.” 

You stood up quickly, grabbing the bag with your blood stained clothes, “no I need to go. This was a mistake.” 

“Go where pequena?” 

“They are going to take me away! I don’t have anywhere to live Alexia! Papi left. He got rid of the house. Mami is dead. I have no where so I’m going to leave before they can take me.” 

“Neña no.” Olga moved to block the door. She is small. You could take her, you thought. “You’re staying with us. They aren’t going to take you because you have a home, with us. You will stay as long as needed.” 

Alexia and Olga hadn’t exactly had the conversation about it, but they both seemed to be able to read each other’s minds. They were going to take care of you, love you like your parents should have. Sure you’re 16, almost an adult. But everyone needs a parental figure, no matter the age. 

“No. You two have your own life, I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself, I have been for years.” 

“But you can’t neña. You can’t get an apartment, or a phone plan, or your drivers licence. If you’ll let us, we will take care of you.” You were considering it, really considering it. Having a proper bed, proper meals, somewhere safe? It sounded like heaven. 

“It won’t be easy pequena, it’ll be hard. For all of us. We’ll have to learn to trust each other, and learn how to live with each other but it’ll be worth it. You can decorate the room however you want, we will buy you whatever you need.” 

Before the could continue, the police came in. It took a while to answer all their questions. You could see Alexia and Olga holding hands tightly, wincing slightly when you go into detail. 

“What about my school bag? It has all my school stuff and my laptop?” 

“We will look for it, but there’s no promises it’ll be found. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” 

“With Alexia and Olga.” You could visibly feel the tension leave both the women. The officers asked Alexia and Olga to step out with them to talk, you took a few moments to gather your thoughts. How had things changed so much. You were just a kid, yet you were forced to look after yourself like you were an adult. You wanted to be vulnerable, to have someone take care of you. Sometimes all we need is a little love. 

Maybe in time, things would get better. 

[ckret2]

Hi! I don't remember if anyone asked this, but do you have any headcanons about Shermie Pines?

Sure, here's the big one.

I've decided to resolve the "if he's the baby then Mabel & Dipper are the product of two generations of 15-year-old parents; if he's older than Stan & Ford and maybe already out of the house then where is he and who's the baby?" problem the most ridiculous way possible:

He IS the baby, but he grew 20 years in 10 years.

I don't mean he's a 10-year-old that looks 20, i mean that for every year he existed, he experienced two years of life. Like at the start of September he entered 1st grade and at the end of next May he exited 2nd grade, and nobody knows how, he didn't jump up a grade during winter break or something, everyone around him clearly remembers him going through nine months of school and then summer break and then another nine months of school, his first and second grade teachers both remember teaching him for a whole school year, but it happened within one year.

Nobody else is affected; they all remember experiencing two years of life with Shermie, but they didn't age two years too. Just him. No one can explain it. It's the darnedest thing.

"But how did this happen." Time magic. "What caused it?" Magic. "Did he experience every year twice?" No just once; the year was twice as long for him. "Then how did he experience two school years instead of one double length school year?" Magic. "How does that even work???" I'm not an expert on time magic.

Caryn told Ford about it, but he was busy with more PhD programs than any human should ever endure and assumed it was some kind of hyperbolic lie to communicate how fast it feels like Shermie's growing, so she's going "this sounds like one of your strange anomalous things you study, isn't this one of those things you study?" and he's like "uh huh that's great mom."

Stan, of course, didn't hear any of this, so the first he learns of it is during a reluctant family reunion soon after he takes over Ford's life and Caryn's like "and over there's your brother Shermie and his wife, I don't know if you've seen him since your master's degree, try to talk to them won't you?" and Stan goes "Shermie?? Isn't he supposed to be twelve, why's he look like a MAN? Whaddaya mean wife??? Is she pregnant????" and Caryn went "😏 I KNEW you were never listening on the phone."

Shermie gradually stopped experiencing life on double time and slowed down to age normally around his mid twenties (well, mid twenties from his perspective; around 13 according to his birth certificate). Filbrick and Caryn sort of agreed that getting married must have helped him "settle down" and they don't really question it.

Ford gets to learn this several hours after he gets home when he finally gets a break long enough to put two and two together and goes "wait, SHERMIE'S grandkids?? But he's barely in his forties, how does he have 12-year-old grandkids" and Stan tells him and Ford goes "You mean Mom was telling the truth?!"

That fall while Shermie's yelling "WHADDAYA MEAN YOU SWITCHED PLACES AND FELL INTO A SPACE PORTAL" Ford's yelling back "CAN I CARBON DATE YOUR FACE"

[sabertoothwalrus]

i keep on thinking about how chilchuck claims he is 28 years old and turning 29 that year. he has 3 grown daughters, who were supposedly all grown up and out of the house 4 years previously, when he was 24/25. being generous and assuming theyre triplets. and maybe they all moved out right when they turned 14. chilchuck wouldve been 10/11 when they were born??? is he lying about his age. i wouldnt put it past him. am i just missing something and this all makes sense somehow. maybe he was trying to thread the needle between "around the age everyone was assuming (young adult)" and "too old to be exploring dungeons like this." is there an extra i havent read that explains everything and im just obsessing over this for no reason. does this even matter.

he became a dad at 13! It DOES say that half-foots are considered adults at 14, but since tallmen are considered adults at 16, he was still pretty young. hashtag teen dad chilchuck.

It doesn’t say on this chart, but I think his daughters each moved out around age 10-11? so he and his wife were empty nesters by the time she left him.

It also says that his first two daughters were born the same year, but nothing mentions them being twins, so half-foot pregnancies must be relatively short. maybe he knocked up his girlfriend when he was 12 😵‍💫 and turned 13 and got married by the time mayjack was born

[feminist-space]

"Joy Spence, 21, said she visited emergency departments at two hospitals in St. John's over the course of nearly two weeks this May.

What began as weakness and abdominal pain on her right side quickly deteriorated into blacking out from the agony in her torso.

But no matter how dire her symptoms got, doctors kept sending her home.

"They would just tell me, 'Your bloodwork's normal, there's nothing we can do.' They would send me home, then same thing again," she said. "I would go back again. They would get me to do the bloodwork, say everything's normal."

Ultrasound and CT scans apparently turned up nothing, but Spence, in such severe pain, says she had no option but to keep returning to the hospital, where she says she was eventually left screaming in a waiting room, ignored by hospital staff.

"If somebody doesn't help me, I'm going to die," she recalls wailing, watching doctors and nurses pass her by.

At one point, she was dismissed outright by a walk-in clinic nurse, she adds.

"Somebody said to me, 'I don't know what you expect me to do,'" she said. "'You're a healthy 21-year-old young female.'"

One night, she says, her boyfriend had to help her into an ambulance. Spence was in so much pain she couldn't stay conscious and stand on her own.

"I remember the man in the ambulance telling me … how often he sees other young women going into the hospital and seeing them be misdiagnosed and not taken seriously," she said, speaking through tears.

"He said that he would do his best to … get things going for me."

Spence says she went to an ER at the Health Sciences Centre or St. Clare's Mercy Hospital about 10 times over a 12-day period, beginning on May 21. She also visited her family doctor, who could do little except tell her to speak directly to the surgeon at Health Sciences Centre, she said.

Each time she saw a doctor, she says, she was sent home and told to dance around her living room or do yoga to cure what physicians believed was anxiety or sluggish bowels.

"I had so many laxatives," Spence recalls. "I would tell them … nothing's even coming out anymore. It's not just this, I don't think. But no, they were dead set on the constipation and only constipation. Like, it can only be that."

...

Spence says doctors only began to take her seriously once she began vomiting in a Health Sciences Centre hallway. The contents of her stomach were green and black.

An older doctor walking past her happened to notice, stopping in his tracks. Spence says he immediately identified the issue as appendicitis.

At that doctor's urging, Spence was finally wheeled into an operating room, where she says her burst appendix — now gangrenous — was removed.

"I think when I walked into the room and they seen a 21-year-old young girl, they immediately dismissed me and thought that there couldn't be anything wrong with me," Spence said.

"I was not on their minds and not on their radar. And if they didn't have that preconceived idea of me, those thoughts wouldn't have been formed and maybe I would have gotten the proper care that I should have."

...

Spence is still struggling to recover from her ordeal. Physically, she's now fine: her appendix was removed and her stitches have healed.

But she's lost an alarming amount of weight, she says, wakes up gasping in the middle of the night and can't stop herself from crying whenever she remembers the hospital.

"I've been losing a lot of hair," she said. "Mentally, it's just been a struggle."

Spence only received an apology from the health authority after CBC News requested comment and confirmed that Spence had done an interview — a move she says felt hollow and frustrating, since the manager who called her didn't give her an explanation about why she was repeatedly ignored while waiting to be admitted.

The ripple effect from her illness, and how she says she was treated when seeking care, has uprooted her life. She's taken a year off her studies in Memorial University's social work program and has lost her job. She's looking for trauma therapy, but now doesn't have the money to pay for it, she says.

"I think as young women we're always told what we're supposed to do, how we're supposed to think, and not to trust our instincts," she said.

"But most of the time … the gut instinct is right. I knew I was sick. I knew what was happening wasn't right, and I could have died if I didn't keep going back to the hospital.

"If I had listened to those doctors and went back home — what could have really happened?""

[hibiscusseaart]

So about Time Travel Tobirama

He gets back in his childhood, the period when Kawarama was already dead, but Itama still alive, just cuz I like Itama alive and well, ok. (also i love the idea of Itama the weed shinobi by @oh-no-its-bird so)

And he starts to think and strategise smth like "Ok, I need to kill Black Zetsu, but idk where he is. But he should be around Uchihas, so I must come closer. But I cant just go there, we're not in peace, they'd kill me. And I don't exactly know when Black Zetsu is gonna try to manipulate Madara. So I also have to monitor Madara and make sure Izuna doesn't ever dies, to ensure that Madara won't lose his shit".

So, he's really logical and his conclusion was "So the easiest way to monitor the Uchiha clan is to marry an Uchiha." But he can't just marry a random Uchiha, it'd be shitty for politics he is the clan heir after Hashirama after all + it'd be nice way to strengthen peace via marriage. Plus he needs to keep close eye to Madara. So. Marrying Madara it is. Or Izuna. But first of all, Izuna is annoying and second he still needs very carefully look for potential signs of Black Zetsu corruption and it's better to do that when they're in close quarters. So the best case scenario is Madara's hand in marriage.

Killing Madara might be easier, but Hashirama would be sad. Plus I think the ppl who helped him to be sent in the past (coughnaruto who said that) told him smth about that Madara and Hashirama are Indra and Ashura reincarnations and be like "What if daddy Sage gets angry..."

So yeah no killing Madara. Even though he kinda wants to.

And to be clear, he had this plan in the few days he's back in his baby body. He's like 10-12 or whatever, when Hashi starts running to the river to meet Madara. Oh and Itama is safe and sound cuz Tobi said fuck Butsuma and went to safe his baby brother.

So one day Tobirama follows his brother to the river to actually meet Madara before his father decides to fuck everything.

So, Tobirama's the most fucked up honeypot mission officially begun. Tobirama is gonna be like "Ok i need to impress a 12 yo... But I cant just show him a cool jutsu, he might think about me as a rival or whatever... Kids like praise and cool things... Maybe I can tell him that he's cute and find him a cool stick? Should I ask Anija to make a cool stick?"

He meets Madara (without a stick, Hashirama might've suspect smth) and be like "Wow, Anija who would've known you've made such a cute friend" (Tobirama is hard cringing in his head, he's not the best in honeypot missions) and Madara, being about 12 year old, is standing there covered in mud, cuz Hashirama threw him into river or whatever + the little hc that he's kinda ugly when he's in his teens. Like Madara thinks of himself as strong and cool, but not particularly handsome with his wild hair and eye bags.

So Madara is smitten cuz wow pretty boy with red eyes said that He's cute!!!

Tobirama looks at Madara's dopey smile and thinks of the first phase as a success. Now Tobirama starts to spend some time with Hashirama and Madara to monitor their surroundings from their clans, while Itama distracts their father, and also try to win over Madara when he is still an impressionable kid. Plus he starts hinting that they may be Senju and Uchiha and that they should be prepared. But well they're kids who wants to escape all that war and just play with a peer so.

Long story short, Madara be like "So we're gonna make a village and then I'm gonna marry Tobirama!"

Tobi "fuck yes, a bit ahead of the schedule, but sounds good, i'm in"

Hashirama is outraged bc THATS HIS LIL BROTHER!!!

So Tobirama plays hard and makes Madara promise to marry him when they're old enough.

But then well, they're still found out and they still have a fallout cuz of their clans. But Tobirama made them promise to try hard for peace (and marriage), so now they just have to wait til Butsuma dies and Hashirama can become a clan head.

Tobirama tries not to be so efficient at killing Uchihas cuz he will be their family later so he tries to avoid it and just knock out or use some non lethal methods. Hashirama mostly fights Madara and it's almost sparrings at this point. Itama works on his weed empire and learns healing.

Well one day Butsuma dies and Hashirama and Tobirama bully their Elders and rush to try for peace. Tajima (who I think is still alive) is suspicious of all of it and stalls af.

So one day on the battlefield Tobirama says "So, marriage when? You promised asshole", making all the Uchiha and Senju stumble and "HUH?!"

So now many of the Senju and Uchiha now know that Uchiha clan heir apparently proposed to the Senju heir ??? Everyone is confused.

Madara, still crushing hard on Tobirama, catches this opportunity and bullies everyone to allow peace and let him marry Tobirama. Uchiha allow it only cuz everyone knows how crazy Uchihas about loved ones and Madara is the strongest one. They kinda afraid that if they won't allow it, he'd go crazy (he would).

So Madara gets his trophy wife Tobirama, Tobirama gets his safari zone with Uchihas in their natural habitat.

Tobirama is a surprisingly good husband to Madara, cuz with all that Zetsu thing, he's attentive as hell. "Something bothering you, dear husband? Do tell me everything."

At first they think he'd learn things and will tell that all back to Senju, but Tobirama tries to assure them "I don't really care about details. Tell me about how it makes you feel." (he looks for the signs of Zetsu corruption)

So basically Tobirama marries Madara to become his therapist. Madara is very much in love and constantly brags how much his spouse loves him and that he always listens his worries.

Izuna is mad as fuck about all of it btw. He thinks that Tobirama has ulterior motives and hides something. (He's right. ) But Tobirama dutifully plays his part as an attentive spouse and makes plans for bettering Uchiha clan just so that the village won't suffer. He'd probably would prescribe them regular therapy for everyone who awoken Sharingan.

also @fashionredalert write a snippet for this au with madara in the mud! pls check it out!

[chaoticace2005]

Why Vox needs to GET THE FUCK OVER THE RADIO DEMON:

(By Velvette, the only competent of the Vees)

(Her list for Valentino here)

1. He’s just not into you

2. We have better things to do than allocate company time to this.

3. He makes you look stupid

4a. He makes US look stupid (and Valentino already does that enough)

4b. Seriously how are we supposed to stop your boy toy from chasing whore around town when you can’t do the same with your ex? We need to set a (gag) good example for him.

5. What do you even see in him? Tacky coat. And that voice is so old-school.

6. You have two people who (reluctantly) want to work with you. Why spend energy on a guy who doesn’t?

7. This was seven years ago babe. Give it up.

8. I’m tired of finding your Alastor Body Pillow around the penthouse

9. Speaking of the body pillow, did you really have to spend 5k on it?

10. Company money should be used for COMPANY things. The fact we even have an “Alastor” budget is stupid. HE DOESNT EVEN GO HERE. ( @onesidedradiostatic )

11. He fucked off once, he probably will again.

12. Do you really want to fuck with someone who has the princess and king of Hell on his side?

13. It makes Valentino insecure about his sexual prowess, which is not good for anyone.

14. I have to LISTEN to him complain about it.

15. No matter how hard you try, nobody will ever beat “Susan” for #1 rival in that man’s heart. (Which is valid cause Susan SUCKS.)

16. Also you’re wasting company time by having Val put together shitty-Alastor look alike porns? Angel Dust does NOT look like Radio Demon ffs, I though Val was the blind one not you.

17. Your screens keep crapping out whenever you think about him, and we’re running out of ones in storage.

18a. I don’t want to keep having to go to overlord meetings for you because you’re having a breakdown over of he’ll be there or not.

18b. Speaking of breakdowns, STOP MAKING THE WHOLE CITY LOSE POWER.

19. You’ve taken over the entire office space with your Alastor-shrine. It’s not really an inconvenience, just creepy.

20a. Not to kinkshame but I walked in on you and Val fucking with Alastor-wigs on, REALLY?!

20b. Also I think you’re making Val insecure about his lack of hair.

21. STOP asking me to design Alastor-cosplay clothes for you. I don’t want anything to do with this.

22. I already have to deal with one pissbaby

23. Seriously, he isn’t into you. Maybe it’s cause you’re a mess. Maybe it’s cause he’s AROACE. Who knows.

24. You keep interrupting channels to brainwash people into hating the Radio Demon, when we should be brainwashing them into other things.

25. We can all hear you talking to yourself in the shower when trying to come up with shitty comebacks.

26. You display your dreams when you sleep, and while it was funny at first at this point it’s so boring. Val and I want to watch something actually interesting for once rather than the same shit.

27. You keep glitching out in bisexual whenever he comes up and it’s annoying waiting for you to put your shit back together again.

28. I’m sick of movie nights where we just watch your self-made compilations of “Alastor’s Epic Fails” or just watch security footage of him at the hotel.

29. Why do you even try and film him? Your shitty cameras can pick hardly anything up.

30. Honestly this whole thing is just pathetic.

31. Like it used to be cute but now?

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Soulmark AU again

So in this AU, Dani was born to look 8 (I never understood why she looked 12 but whatever. Danny was 14 in this AU) and Damian arrived at Gotham when he was 10.

Dani traveled the world for around a year before she meet Damian when they were 9. Damian is with the League at that time

Obviously, they are soulmates. You can decide their mark.

As per League custom, any heir must kill or destroy any distractions.

And that includes Soulmates (because Ra’s is an ass)

So, Damian’s first solo mission, he has to track down his soulmate and kill her.

But when it was time, he couldn’t do it.

He let her go, telling her to never contact or try to find him, and he would do the same. Dani leave, very angry (Poor Baby bat didn’t think he had another option)

He burned the body of a dead deer, and told his mother that he scattered Danielle’s ashes in the river.

Years go by, Damian moves to Gotham, and never mentions Danielle to his family. He didn’t even tell them that he knew who they were. He was ashamed 9f what he tried to do. Even if he didn’t manage to succeed.

When they’re both 16-17, Damian comes across Danielle in Gotham (she doesn’t know he was there. She never tried to look for him)

And because she was left dry by her soulmate when she was 9, she’s kind of bitter.

So she leaves, but she told him he would have to deal with her presence because she and her older brother are in Gotham for the foreseeable future.

Damian sees this as a golden chance to get her forgiveness and gain her trust.

The only way for that to happen is if his family doesn’t meddle. The only ways that’ll happen is if they doing know.

So Damian never tells them.

Dani doesn’t tell Damian she’s a ghost, nor why she and Dante are in Gotham (GIW got a hold on Danny and he’s healing in the GZ)

Dani attends Gotham Academy with Valds money. And she and Damian share a couple of classes. Meanwhile, the GIW is in Gotham searching for the High Princess and High Prince. Siblings of the King.

Shenanigans include

-Damian and Jason becoming a regular at the bookstore Dani works at, but they come at different times.

-Steph and Cass are on a date when they run into Damian and Dani, also on a date. It quickly becomes a double date.

-Alfred and Clockwork are old friends and Alfred is either a ghost or extremely liminal.

-Titus and Cujo friendship.

-Wiggles the dragon. I recently found out he existed and live him already

-Bruce getting shot while on Patrol and the closest place was Dani’s and Dante’s apartment

-Peopel can sense when their soulmate is about to die/get extremely hurt. Dani senses Damian is in danger and kills(?) (at least gravely injured) his attacker

-Sam visiting Gotham and strangling the Joker with Undergrowth powers

BONUS!!

Each member of the Royal family needs their own Knight (typically their soulmate/lover of choosing. Sometimes not)

Dante decides to have Fright Knight as his Knight (as soulmates or friends you chose)

Danny has Sam and Tucker, so he’s extra safe.

Dani has Damian.

The reason this is funny is maybe there’s a trademark summoning scene and maybe the knight shows up with the royal member, or maybe they show up first to scout if it’s safe.

So there’s a summoning and Damian pops in the middle of the circle looking confused

If he didn’t know he was Dani’s knight, even better.

[beneathsilverstars]

A lot of people headcanon that Siffrin was something around 12-14 when the island disappeared, which does make sense. But it’s common enough fanon that I wanted to go back and figure out what’s actually canon!

Lots of evidence and math under the cut, including various things to consider when creating your own hc timeline, but tl;dr:

If we stick to only textual canon, then Siffrin only needs to have been old enough to row a boat, which I would guess to be 6-8. If we take into account the ranges id5 gave for everyone’s ages during canon, he theoretically could’ve been anywhere from 6-25 when the island disappeared. Or if we adhere to everything id5 has said, then he was a “teen” when it happened, so, 13-19.

Siffrin: I ran away from home once! I just didn't want to eat my veggies. And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit! I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I...

People often assumes this means Siffrin was fairly young when they left. However, that relies on two assumptions, which are fairly reasonable, sure, but assumptions nonetheless: that they were young when this happened, and that this is when the island disappeared.

While throwing tantrums over vegetables is a stereotypically childish activity, chafing at strict or even well-meaning rules doesn’t belong exclusively to children. There are parents who continue treating their kids the same way even as they grow into teens and even full adults, before they move out or even just while they visit. Which is very frustrating for the kid! So imo it would make perfect sense for a teenager or even a young adult to go, “I can’t believe my parent is still trying to control what I eat like I’m a blinding 10 year old. If they won’t treat me like an adult at home, maybe I’ll prove my independence by leaving for a bit!”

It’s also possible that the event this dialogue refers to ended with Siffrin returning safely home! It’s fun to say that his story trailed off at the moment that the island was forgotten, but it’s possible he only stopped the retelling there because the curse kicked in, just like it would for any childhood memory. Maybe he didn’t get cut off from the island till he ran away for a second time. Maybe he was just on a regular, fully-sanctioned outing when it happened. Maybe he was even with other people. Who knows! Siffrin sure doesn’t!

(Edit: It’s word of god canon that the veggie event was the island’s disappearance, but it doesn’t necessarily affect our timeline anyway.)

I think the only thing this story proves is that Siffrin didn’t leave the island until after they were old enough to row the family boat. Unfortunately I don’t know for sure how old that would be. I did some research and found a couple posts about 6-7 year olds learning how to row, but one of them was using an inflatable raft, and the other was on a rowing team, so I don’t know how the difficulty compares. Young children really are quite good at picking up their parents’ hobbies, so I think even a 4-5 year old could learn how, but they may not be physically capable of handling an adult-size boat. It really comes down to a question of core strength / endurance. Found some posts saying the weight of the boat doesn’t matter as much as the weight of the oars, though, so maybe old fashioned boat vs modern inflatable raft doesn’t matter that much…? So maybe it would be possible for a child to row a small wooden skiff at around age 6-8. Probably not for long, but that just makes it all the more realistic for them to drift farther than they meant to and then struggle to return to shore.

So: Siffrin was at least 6-8 when they left!

Bonnie: I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!!

If we assume “my village” means Bambouche, the island disappearance would have to be after Nille ran away with Bonnie, but still long enough ago that Bonnie doesn’t remember it directly. If we define “preteen” as age 10-12, then the longest ago this could possibly be would be 12 years. On the other side, I think it’s reasonable for a 10 year old to not remember a major (but personally irrelevant) event that happened when they were 6, meaning the closest it could be is 4 years ago.

If we follow WoG (word of god) age ranges, then Siffrin is in their “mid to late 20s”, which I’ll define as 24-29. Subtracting our 4-12 years ago range for the island’s disappearance, Siffrin could’ve been at youngest 12-17 and at oldest 20-25. If we stick to only TC (textual canon), I think one could interpret Siffrin as anywhere from 18-35, which would mean they were at youngest 6-23 and at oldest 14-31.

Of course, “my village” could also mean wherever Bonnie and Nille lived before running away. I think the youngest age at which it’s likely for an adult to remember a personally-irrelevant event from their childhood is maybe 5. Nille’s WoG age range is “late teens to early 20s”, which I would define as 16-23, which means the disappearance could be 11-18 years ago. Combining this with our 4-12 range gives us 4-18, meaning WoG Siffrin could have been at youngest 6-11 and at oldest 20-25.

But if we’re only going off of TC, we can say Nille’s as old as we want, so the disappearance just has to be at least 4 years ago for Bonnie to not directly remember.

Isabeau: This article says there's no record of him anywhere... Up until he appeared out of thin air sometime in his adulthood. Looks like he lived in the city of Corbeaux for a few years before he became the King...

According to the change god statue exposition cutscene, the King started his rampage “almost a year ago now”. The way Isabeau says the bit about Corbeaux kind of implies that the King lived other places before that, but not to the point that it’s unreasonable to say he didn’t. So if we define “a few” as 2-4, then the soonest the king could’ve appeared is 3-5 years ago, meaning the island disappeared at least 3 years ago. We already said it has to be at least 4 years ago, so this doesn’t change our math.

How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

id5: Both were teens.

Womp womp, there it is. WoG says 13-19!

But while we’re here, here’s a summary of everything you might want to consider while creating your timeline:

Siffrin must have been at least old enough to row a boat. I’m not an expert in boats but I think it’s reasonable for a kid to be capable of rowing at age 6+, but a 6-8 year old may struggle to maneuver the oars of an adult-sized boat, and wouldn’t be able to row very hard or for very long. Doesn’t necessarily take much effort to get far enough for waves and currents to take you farther, though.

It’s WoG that the veggie event is the island’s disappearance, but if you’re going off of TC, the disappearance could have happened later instead. And a dramatic disagreement over veggies could theoretically happen at any age! Its causes could also range from rather practical (Siffrin is extremely picky and his parents are worried about his health) to pure power struggle (Siffrin just wants more choice in what he eats but his parents just want him to follow the rules they’ve set).

Since the King lived in Corbeaux for “a few” years before his nearly-a-year-long rampage, the island must have disappeared at least 3 years ago.

Since Bonnie remembers Nille telling them about the gossip surrounding the island’s disappearance, I doubt they would’ve forgotten the gossip itself if it had happened somewhat recently. (I think it must have been at least 4 years ago.)

If Bonnie’s reference to “my village” means Bambouche, the disappearance must have occurred after Nille ran away with them.

If Bonnie’s reference to “my village” means wherever they lived with Nille before running away, then the disappearance could be before Bonnie was born. But it would still have to be when Nille was old enough to pay attention to the gossip and remember it for a while. (I think she must have been at least 5 years old when it happened.)

According to id5, Siffrin is in their mid-to-late twenties during the game, and Nille is in their late teens to early twenties.

According to id5, Siffrin was a teen when the island disappeared, and Nille was a teen when she ran away from home.

You can do whatever you want forever, including contradicting textual canon. ^^