#mr.young

[notthewitchh]

My hyperfixations as playlists.

Nowhere boys

Young Dracula

Skins

A series of unfortunate events

My babysitters a vampire (Old)

My babysitters a vampire (New)

Wolfblood

Narnia

Mr. Young

[thehorrorsartandblog]

Chapter 17: memory lane

Summer and warmth were beginning to slowly fade as August came around. The train began walking more and more miles. Deseret stayed in the wagon Mr.Young feared that she might get hurt again. He was a little traumatized by watching the little girl he adopted have a seizure on the muddy river bank a few months back.

Sitting there with her thoughts was difficult. She kept remembering the smiths and how they cared for her. The truth was she only ever met one of Mr.Smith’s wives. 

Closing her honey colored eyes she could see the two of them in her mind. The way they softly brushed her hair and wings. The way they played with her. It was only a few years ago but it felt like it had been an eternity.

Her memories of them felt like she was watching memories of a whole other person. One who didn’t have to get much fear. One who had a curious nature and a smile that made just about anyone she knew happily smile back.

Now all she had from those peaceful and soft days was the quilt she was sitting on and the hummingbird she was currently feeding with sugar water.Suddenly the wagon hit a rock and it snapped her out of her thoughts.

She gained some air before she fell back onto her quilt. She slightly laughed very quietly. It didn’t hurt her but yet she found it funny that life did everything in her power to make sure she didn’t remember the people who cared for her before Mr.Young.

Deseret looked back at her wings. She never really used them nor stretched them out. She only ever used them to amplify her emotions but since she hadn’t been feeling much of anything they stayed neatly folded on her back. She decided to open them and stretch them out. They felt really weak. It was difficult to keep them open but streching them out felt really good.

The sunlight from the summer day felt nice on her wings as well. She moved more to the sunlight and proceeded to lay on the wagon floor with her wings open. It felt calm, almost too calm. But it was nice to have a break from being traumatized.

She must have noticed how tired she felt laying on the wooden floor of the wagon. A breeze made her eyes feel heavy and hard to keep open. I mean who would notice if I just took a nap right here? She thought. Closing her eyes.

She woke up but couldn’t open her eyes when suddenly she heard a conversation. But didn’t recognize it.

“Mrs.Smith! Look! Birds!” A little girl exclaimed happily whilst giggling.

“Yes sweetheart those are birds now let’s go back.” The woman said out of breath after chasing her around tirelessly all morning.

“But why? It's so pretty and sunny out today” She pouted, upset that she couldn’t play.

“We have chores to do and you need to help me clean the whole house's laundry ” Right, chores, the bane of each child’s existence. Suddenly before the girl could retort a tiny hummingbird ran into the tree right beside her and fell.

“Is it okay?” The girl panicked after seeing it fall to the ground out of the corner of her eye.

“I can’t tell”The woman was cut off by the girl picking up the poor hummingbird and checking on it.“It seems it’s breathing”

“Can we help it?” The girl begged sweetly knowing Mrs.Smith couldn’t resist.

“Fine, we may” Mrs.Smith seemed happy that the little girl wanted to help the unfortunate animal.

“Do you think Mr.Smith will let us help them!” The girl asked.

“Of course sweetheart” 

What? Who? Her mind tried to come up with an answer. She finally opened her eyes into the dream she was in. It wasn’t a dream really but more or less a memory. 

She looked down, she was holding her hummingbird friend peace in her small apron pocket. Looking up she was walking back to the main part of Nauvoo. Why am I back here? She felt like tears were streaming down her face but none actually were.

Then she walked into her old house. She couldn’t help but cry and smile at the same time. Mr.Smith welcomed her at the door. The little girl looked up. She couldn’t help but smile seeing his face once again. The idea of this being a dream faded slowly.

But something changed and she felt a pain in her back. It knocked her forward onto her stomach. Those laughs. She realized what was going on. She opened her eyes. 

The dirt field, full of grass near Nauvoo. The place where she was covered in tar. Then it stopped and she was back in her old house that the smiths owned. 

She was playing with a little doll in front of the fireplace. It was dark out and it was fairly late at night. Suddenly Mr.Smith walked in. She could tell it was him because of the way he walked. Slowly he made his way to the girl. She stood up.

“How have your wings been?” Mr.Smith half hummed. “Have you had your bandages changed?”

“No. Mrs.Smith fell asleep as the others tired her all day.” The little girl spoke softly. “I didn’t feel like bothering her by waking her up. She needs to rest.”

“You are very sweet. May I change your bandages then if you're ok with it? I know you only trust Emma with touching them.” Mr.Smith blurted out trying to keep calm.

As soon as she turned around to say yes she was met with a different sight. One that was burned into her brain for the rest of time. That awful night where Mr.Smith died. She stared up and flinched at the sound of the gunshots. 

She saw his body fall down to only a couple feet away from where she was standing. She ran up to him once again crying. Cursing at the world for taking him away from her. He didn’t deserve to die nor did her uncle deserve to die either.

She woke up crying and sobbing uncontrollably. Mr.Young ran to Deseret. He h jumped into the wagon and pulled her into a hug sitting her down on his lap. He held her there rocking her back and forth till she was able to talk.

“Why did he die!” She cried.

“I know Deseret it’s hard. I can’t imagine what it’s like.” Mr.Young said, trying to calm her down. It took awhile for Deseret to stop crying so hard. Her eyes were visibly a little swollen. Mr.Young still cooed and tried to calm his daughter down.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Mr.Young soothingly asked.

“I had a dream more or less about Mr.Smith. It started out nice but it ended with…” she paused and began to cry once again. Mr.Young pulled her tighter. 

Suddenly all of the overprotective brothers she had surrounded Deseret, each one trying to hug her and help her feel better. She was sad but couldn’t help but feel comforted by her family. Everyone was so nice. 

“How about we all eat some food. It is about time to stop the wagon train as it’s getting dark now.” Mr.Young said, getting some cheers from his children. The kids ran out and just as Deseret was about to run he spoke again.

“I hope you know that I love you just as much as Mr.Smtih did, if not even more.” 

“Thank you. I love you to Dad.” She said, “I’m going to go eat now”

She then ran off with her siblings to get some food. Leaving Mr.Young smiling at the fact that this was the first time she had ever called him “dad”.

[ilpianistasultetto]

Lo ricordo bene, era quasi sera quando andai a casa di Donatella. Restammo svegli fino all'alba e nevicava. Ricordo anche le volte che ho portato dalla fine all'inizio la puntina sul vinile appoggiata su un vecchio giradischi Garrard...Poi siamo usciti con il sole che si levava e una bellissima tempesta di neve. Fu davvero emozionante. Pensavo di essere stato parte di una notte veramente meravigliosa, grazie anche a Mr.YOUNG

Hippy 79th birthday Mr. YOUNG

[ama-dillo]

Maybe screaming until I fall off my roof is bad but what's the alternative:

Crying to shiny music...

Crying to Mr.Young's ending

Crying to a middle school production of Shrek,

Crying to Toca Hair Salon,

Crying to Katie's panic attack in Alexa and Katie,

Crying because why the fuck do all the actors in Julie and the Phantoms set off more Bi-Panik than my girlfriend does,

Crying because Lake from infinity train is so gender,

Crying because Amity and Luz finally got together,

Crying about Bubble Gum princess and Marceline,

Crying because damnit Garnet's wedding scene was incredible,

Crying about my high school days,

Crying about my crippling dysphoria,

Crying about my mental health,

Crying for my mental health,

Crying about my friends,

Crying with my friends,

Crying.

Just crying because I can for myself and whenever I want.

Crying is better that laughing or smiling till my gut and jaw hurt

Because when you cry whatever and whoever comforts you belongs in you true and natural state of being.

[earako]

*jolts up* NURF IS LIKE SLAB FROM MR. YOUNG

[allaroundidiot]

Your Fave Is a War Criminal-Gig Morton

[mroyer782]

This is the new serie on Wattpad I will made!

Note: If you ever hear about Bart-Toons on Deviantart, well he will be the main villain characters in my story! Because Bart-toons doesn’t like animes and Japan, keep giving request about Leni and Luna kissing Lincoln on the cheeks, stealing Blank memes and say he’s the owners of the templates and keep saying the word “I mean it”

[forlovvers]

8:17am | ninety eight percent

“all right class,” the teacher, mr.young grabbed a large stack of papers from his desk. “it’s time to pass back the tests you took friday.”

the class groaned, no one liked to receive tests back. except, you. you had been anticipating this since you took the test. you were always on top your of school work and grades. it was something you prided yourself on.

finally, mr. young reached you. he slid the test in front of you. “well done as always, miss l/n.” mr. young said, smiling. then he passed your friend’s test, ningning, to her but faced down. “miss ning, meet me after class and we can talk about it.

“well, it was gonna happen one day.” ningning shrugged. “i never even liked math.” she huffed. you chuckled, eyes shifting from her test to yours. the numbers ‘98’ were written in bright red ink. a small grin of victory spread across your face.

“hey y/n, what’d you get?” the boy behind you, chenle leaned in between you and ningning and peered at your scores. “not you getting your test handed faced down.” chenle grimaced at ningning.

“shut up, zhong.”

“i got a ninety eight, you?” you turned to chenle (ignoring a very bitter ningning) who held up his test, which had a 81 in corner of it. “i cheated and i still didn’t get a ninety.” he tsked.

“tryna see what score i got, y/n?” chimed a new voice. you met with the gaze of classmate!renjun who had a cocky glint in his eyes. “no, but i bet you were trying to see my score.” you retorted competitively.

“well, i got a ninety seven.” he said, his lips forming into a smirk. you feigned a sigh. “shame, i got a ninety eight.” renjun shook his head, his lips becoming more of a smile instead of a smirk. “always one-upping me, y/n.”

“don’t you forget it, huang!”

but, you failed to notice renjun covering the corner of his test, which had a bright red 100 written on it.

although, renjun’s smile never left his face as he watched you happily skip onto your next class.

[bb0007]

[mannytoodope]

Lois: Boys, I wanted to talk to you.I've got some good news.I've been thinking. You're both growing up. You're showing a lot more maturity these days. I think you've earned the right to a little bit more independence. Reese: We're getting a car! Lois: You're both getting jobs. Malcolm: What?  Reese: What? Lois: Malcolm, I talked to the manager of the Lucky Aide this morning. You start there tomorrow. Malcolm: You want me to work at your store? With you? Lois: Yes. Reese-- since you've been mentioned six times by name in the security handbook, you have to look for a job somewhere else, but I want you in a paper hat by the end of the week. Malcolm: Please don't do this to me. Just let me find my own job. Lois: Malcolm, it's already done. I had to call in a lot of favors with Mr.Young for you. You are not going to make me look bad by not honoring your commitments. Malcolm: How is it my commitment?! Lois: Because I'm your mother and you're doing it. That's final. Hal: I was thinking there's a lot of germs flying around. Resse: Dad, Mom has this stupid idea about working... Hal: Huh! Huh! Huh! That's enough! You boys heard your mother. We have always said you have to concentrate on your schoolwork before wasting your time on dead-end jobs. You have got your whole life to work and only one chance to learn. Lois: I told them to get jobs, Hal. Hal: The value of hard work. Money doesn't grow on trees. The sooner you two kids have jobs, the better.

[notthewitchh]

[thehorrorsartandblog]

Chapter 15:the falling out

i am very sorry for how bad at this I am but here is chapter 15.

The day was well on its way to finishing up. The wagon train had passed the morning away so far. Deseret felt really tired and most people in the group noticed. They all really missed the happy energetic girl they once knew and grew to love, especially Mr.Young and his wives. 

The ones who didn’t have kids liked to take turns caring for their little Deseret. While the ones that did tried their best to help out back when she was rambunctious and quick to escape.

Yet, Deseret had completely changed. There was no smile nor glint in her eye. Her adorable laugh never showed. Her smile faded to the point it was like it never had existed. She felt sad all the time and constantly in pain though nothing caused her any pain. She wasn’t the only one that felt that way but she was the only one that showed it extremely. 

Eating in the back of the wooden cloth covered wagon wasn’t easy but at this point they just couldn’t stop the wagons for any reason. She mainly stayed as she was light enough that the oxen didn’t tire from her being in the wagon all the time.

Stopping to let the oxen rest up would put them at too much risk of being attacked so it wasn’t common to see people stay in the wagon unless they were sick, really young, or really old.

Sometimes if you were awake at night watching over and protecting the camp, you could hear Deseret cry in pain and scream out for help in her sleep but when the sun rose in the morning she refused to talk about those nightmares she just had. To be fair she didn’t talk much of anything anymore. The one she talked to the most was the little hummingbird who had always been by her side but even that was rare to catch on any day of the week.

Somedays if she was lucky she would be read another story by her older brothers and sometimes her mothers to help forget the pain she felt. Today wasn’t that lucky of a day, unfortunately. Deseret sat there sure she wasn’t talking but her mind was absolutely screaming. Silent tears fell onto the full plate of food she had that sat directly in front of her on the wooden floor of the wagon. She didn’t feel hungry for the past few days even though she wasn’t eating but today she was being forced to eat. 

She slowly chewed on some of the food. She didn’t like being forced to do anything but she knew this was for the better. The food tasted decent; it wasn't the best nor the worst she’d ever had in her short life so far. Suddenly all of the covered wagons stopped and Deseret looked outside the wagon trying to see why everything was at a standstill so suddenly . 

A river right ahead is what had stopped them. She knew some would use the wagons to float across if it was too deep while others swam. The group of people slowly but surely began preparations to cross the flowing river. Deseret got out as she needed to actually help dig out some debris in the way. She dug a way down for the wagon and began wading through the water till it was up to her neck and Mr.Young began carrying her on his shoulders.

She noticed the river was moving quickly but ignored all noise, that was till a sound of wood crashing and breaking made her look over to her left. Two wagons had crashed because of the current and they were destroyed and floating down stream. 

The train fell silent. Some had made it to the other side and some were in the river. No one was on the bank waiting to get across. Everyone stared as the debris rushed away. 

The silence stayed up until they had made it across. But after the final person walked on shore the yelling began. Mr.Young put Deseret on the ground. The shouting made her feel physical pain in her heart. She began to cry silent tears once more.

Almost everyone was fighting. They had lost everything, their homes, Their livelihoods, and some of them their own actual lives. The fighting just got louder and louder to Deseret’s ears. These were her people, why couldn’t she just stop them. Her thoughts raced, making more and more tears stream down her face. She covered her ears trying to block out the sound yet she was unable to.

Something only she could hear cracked. She felt her halo fall apart. She didn’t understand why that happened till one voice rang out over everything.

“I quit. I quit this awful church. Everything was just fine till you idiots dragged me here.” A man screamed. Some fell silent and others began agreeing with him. Deseret fell to the ground. Even her own body weight had become too much for her to handle. Everything she represented started falling apart. Everything she was had finally started to be questioned by all.

After finally falling on her side she began to shake violently as she laid on the muddy river bank. No one realized what was happening to her; they were all too caught up in fighting one another about the church and the move west. She then proceeded to pass out, shaking even worse than before.

——————————————————————

Waking up her head was throbbing, it really hurt like hell. Looking around the sun had clearly set but yet some people were still awake. A fire lit in the middle of the camp. Nobody was speaking nor making much noise. Everything was just awfully quiet. 

The group had noticeably shrunk in size. People really had left. No one was joking, not that she believed them to be kidding on such a topic. Walking out of the tent she slowly made her way to Mr.Young.

“What now?” She softly asked as she sat next to where he was sitting.

“I’ll be honest with you, Deseret , I don't know. The only thing I do know is that those people aren’t coming back to the train.” He pulled her into a hug. “I’m very sorry I didn’t realize you were in pain on the ground sooner.”

“It’s ok.” She paused. Small tears fell down her face and soaking into her father’s shirt.

“You don’t need to lie to me.” Mr.Young said as he rubbed the back of her head. Suddenly the hummingbird hopped out of his hand to Deseret’s. Gaining acknowledgment that it was hungry from its owner.

 Mr.Young handed her a tube of sugar water. Deseret opened it and let the hummingbird rest on her pointer finger as it ate. Letting out a breathy sigh she fell further into the hug she was in.

“Just know that one day we'll all be safe. We will be off this trail one day. I’ll make sure of it. No matter what happens I want to make sure you and your people are safe” Mr.Young promised as he pulled the little girl as close as he could.

“Thank you.” She whispered. The two sat in silence watching the fire as everyone else began to sleep for the very cloudy night.

[doobler]

Domestic

"--there should be a list of emergency numbers in the drawer beside the sink. The neighbor next door, Ms.Rowan, is a licensed nurse so if anything goes wrong, phone 999 and then go to her--"

"Not to worry, Mrs.Young," Aziraphale maintained his cheerful smile, gingerly ushering her out the door. "It's only a weekend and we've dealt with significantly worse than an 11-year-old and his sweet little dog."

Mrs.Young heaved a great sigh, peering back into the sitting room. Adam was showing Crowley a book, one he'd written himself, hands gesticulating wildly as he explained the plot. The lanky streak of a man seemed to be paying attention, nodding frequently and replying when it was appropriate. It was hard to tell his expression behind those dark tinted shades but he seemed genuinely intrigued.

"I'm sure you and Mr.Crowley know what you're doing," Mrs.Young wrung her hands. "But please promise me you'll call if anything comes up."

Taking a bag for her and opening the door, Aziraphale dipped his head lowly, offering her a bright smile. 

"You have my God given word, madam."

He watched as the misses and her husband piled into their little car, easing out of the driveway. He waved as they drove by, taking in Mrs.Young's worried frown and Mr.Young's casual nonchalance. It was only a weekend in London, no problem at all, easy as cake. While the Youngs weren't entirely sure why they trusted such a strange pair with their only son, they felt an odd sort of ease deep in their hearts, like both men were near and dear to the family.

With a determined little huff, Aziraphale closed the door.

"Alright," He clapped his hands together in delight. "What's first, then?"

"It's lunch time, isn't it?" Adam folded his book shut, a private sort of smile turned up at the angel. "Mum said something about sandwiches?"

"Oh, pish posh, not while I'm here."

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and a humble stack of notes manifested in his grip. Adam broke out into a grin while Crowley smirked behind him.

"Any good cafe's around here?" Aziraphale beamed.

"There's one down the road a bit, they've got real good cheese sandwiches and tomato soup."

Crowley seemed to bend gravity to his will, righting himself off the couch with little visible effort. Reaching down to ruffle the boy's hair, he jerked his head towards his car parked outside.

"Shall we, then?" He grinned.

&&&

The day went just as smoothly as Aziraphale promised. Lunch was delicious, (Crowley had a steak sandwich, both Aziraphale and Adam had cheese sandwiches, and they all shared a pitcher of freshly made lemonade) followed by a spontaneous playdate in the woods. The pair hung back a bit, watching with keen eyes as Adam and his friends bumbled about. They played until the sun just began to kiss the horizon, parting ways rather pleasantly.

Dinner was served, (Aziraphale was not just a lover of food but of cooking as well, making a rather hearty helping of beef stroganoff served beside a large bowl of Mediterranean style salad) cartoons were watched, a board game was won. Crowley worked his mischief and bedtime was at 11 rather than 8. Not that they had to fight; by 10:45, the boy seemed thoroughly exhausted.

"Sweet dreams, Adam," Aziraphale beamed, Crowley leaning against the doorframe beside him. "If you need anything at all, we shall be in the guest room, alright?"

"Alright," Adam shuffled further into the cradle of his duvet. "Goodnight, angel, goodnight, demon."

Crowley nodded, a subtle smile playing along his lips. He winked and the lights turned off while the moon seemed to glow just a tad brighter outside. They closed the door with a quiet click and breathed a sigh of relief.

&&&

"Well. That went quite smoothly."

Crowley watched from his side of the bed, long legs stretched out while he busied himself with his phone. Aziraphale folded his clothes absentmindedly, his eyes drawn to the wall, no doubt peering through insulation and wood to watch the sleeping ex-Antichrist. Crowley snapped his fingers and the angel's clothes were perfectly folded and tucked away. Aziraphale tittered but slid into bed anyways, a book held lovingly between his palms.

"Did you think it wouldn't?" Crowley drawled. His sharp features were illuminated by the cold light of his phone. "He's just a regular little human kid now."

"I doubt that," Aziraphale countered, leaning back against the headboard. "I can sense some... Potential within him but he is definitely just a good honest boy."

"Thank God."

That earned the demon a soft nudge against his thigh. Crowley grinned, all teeth. He leaned over, dipping his head for a soft kiss. He tasted like scotch and potato crisps while Aziraphale tasted like mint toothpaste with the faintest hint of wine. Threading his fingers with the angel's, Crowley let a delighted little sigh puff through his nose.

"This is nice," He mumbled against Aziraphale's cheek. "No work, no worries. Just my favorite bastard and a comfortable mattress."

"Oh, hush," Aziraphale snickered. "Take this as a holiday. After we get back to London, there's work to be done."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"I just did."

Stroking a thumb along Aziraphale's cheek, Crowley beamed, golden eyes nearly sparkling in the faint light. He joined the angel under the covers, pressing close so their thighs were flush together. 

He'd scroll idly through various social media while Aziraphale read. The angel would fall asleep first, soothed by the warmth of a good meal and pleasant company. The demon would wait, admiring his lover's peaceful features for a bit, before he too succumbed to slumber.

[goodomensblog]

If I may elaborate a little, because I’m thinking too much... So, Adam is left in a forest to die by the enemy kingdom, and it’s there that Mr.Young, a hunter, finds him. He and his wife cannot have a child, so they take Adam in and treat him as their own, thinking him to be a blessing. Warlock on the other hand is born from a secret relationship, one where surely it would be no good if anyone found out about him. His mother leaves him in those same woods, so close to where Adam is. (Pt1)

yooo let me know if you decide to write a fic :) it all sounds great!

[grey-tones]

I probably wont, I'll level with you on that. Currently watching Mr.Young on netflix and its helping me calm down a little. I forgot about this show but honestly it was pretty good, ever seen it?

Ah that sucks,, my second recommendation would be coffee if you drink coffee that is.

I've never seen that show I dont think I've ever heard of it either, it's good you have a distraction at least!

[m-e-w-666]

Hello Mr.Young??

I’d literally die for you