#save me vyvyan

[4749-82]

[a-a-a-anon]

vyvyan not only did his own top surgery but he also does diy hrt. and after he graduates he runs an underground clinic to help others transition (he also offers potions such as his cure for not being an axe-wielding, homicidal maniac). he stole all the supplies (as he should). and medical equipment too big too steal? he could also diy it. remember how good he is with machinery (like the super vacuum). and after rick comes out vyvyan helps her with diy E…. and she helps out with the clinic…. t4t-run anarchist underground trans clinic…

[thoughtformchoreographer]

VYVYAN WAPITI. - My Trollsona! :)

So I received a few questions about who exactly Vyvyan is, and I am making this post to answer properly.

He is my trollsona! :) And also a character that I very shamelessly inserted into my Ampora ask blog because there is something wrong with me. Also, I am not a virgo, I am actually an aquarius (go fucking figure), and Vyvyan is only a jade blood because I took a quiz and it said Jade better fit me personality wise, and honestly I kinda agree. Anyway- this post will include some art of him, and also like, basically everything about him, for anyone who's interested. <3

(Sorry if any of the art is low-res. I had to compress some of it cus I work on big canvas sizes :( )

HOMESTUCK MANDATED CHARACTER FACT FILE:

NAME: Vyvyan Wapiti (Pronounced Vivian Wah-pee-tee. Vyvyan is my middle name, and Wapiti is a type of deer.) HANDLE: thoughtformChoreographer AGE: 12 sweeps old (at the time of the ask blog. During Sgrub, he was 8.) GENDER: Male, he/him` HEMOSPECTRUM: Jade blooded LUNAR SWAY: Derse GOD TIER: Sylph of Mind QUIRK: Starts sentences with --<<, meant to represent a tree. Ends sentences with 4242. . Replaces a/A with 4, and s/S with 2. Speaks with full grammar and punctuation, using caps and more punctuation for exaggeration. Will also occassionally use smiley faces in his text. LAND: Land of Trees and Change STRIFE SPECIBUS: Lanternkind SYLLADEX MODUS: Confessionary Modus (Every item in his sylladex is assigned an emotion/thought process. Vyvyan has to outwardly say how he is feeling or express a self affirmation to get an item out of his modus, which is a good way of keeping himself and processing his feelings on the regular.)

WHO EVEN IS THIS DOUCHEBAG? WHAT DOES HE DO? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?

Vyvyan Wapiti is known on Earth-C as the "licensed professional who owns the Nature and Rehabilitation Centre". He is in charge of the facility, which is basically a mixture of a rehab centre, private hospital, mental ward and nature exhibit all in one. He is also part of the "Sburb/Sgrub Rescue Team" which will be mentioned later. He was granted these positions by Karkat, and Karkat was also the one to assign Gamzee to him as his first (and most prioritised) patient. Gamzee was incredibly volatile and was struggling to recover when first introduced to Earth-C, and everyone else was too scared or ignorant to try and help him, so Vyvyan took up that role, and his condition has since improved. He is, however, unfortunately stuck in rehab possibly for the rest of eternity, and lives there with Vyvyan.

Vyvyan makes occassional appearances in the Ask The Ampora's ask blog as Dualscar's caretaker, also. Dualscar appears to dismiss Vyvyan quite often and refuse his care, of which Vyvyan imposes on him, as jade blooded sylphs typically do.

WHAT'S THIS GUY'S DEAL?

Vyvyan appeared in Earth-C along with his friends (Castor, Linnea, and Autumn) after having completed Sgrub with flying colours and basically as little difficulty as it gets with a game so complex and traumatising. There is little explanation for why these 4 did not reap their reward of a new universe, however they all agreed the game must've deemed their session too easy, and decided they should merely live in someone else's won universe as opposed to creating their own. None of them are unhappy with this, as they were each granted positions they are quite content with, Vyvyan especially.

He and his friends run the "Sburb/Sgrub Rescue Team", a group dedicated to contacting players from doomed or infertile sessions to try and save/preserve/console them in numerous ways that would not disturb the flow of time and space. Most of these endevours are somewhat fruitless, however, they did manage to save the "Stuck...Stuck?" crew.

OKAY, BUT LIKE, THE JUICY STUFF. WHERE'S HIS TRAUMATIC BACKSTORY?

Back on Alternia, prior to Sgrub, Vyvyan was a very atypical troll. For starters, jade bloods are already rare as it is, especially male jade bloods, as most are female. Not only that, but he was not the most responsible of trolls. He was in charge of caring for a mother grub, as all jade trolls are assigned to do so. However, having lived in deep forest for most of his life, he became addicted to the effects of mushrooms he found within said forest. The effects of the hallucinogenics he would ingest quite often would leave him very mentally and physically unwell, and unable to properly care for his lusus or himself. One day, his mother grub died of unknown causes - however, Vyvyan's neglectfulness and deteriorated mental state was the main blame of this untimely death. The mothergrub was too young to have created a matriorb, and Vyvyan was sure to be culled for the failure he had become. However, when sitting aimlessly waiting for death and nook deep in a bad trip, a similarly atypical deer-like lusus found him. He was adopted by it, and given a second chance instead of slaughtered like any other in his position would have been. His new lusus quickly corrected his behaviour, teaching him what was/was not safe to forage, how to help himself, and eventually, how to help others. As Vyvyan grew up, he realised there was not much mercy on Alternia for those struggling from mental disorders. The heavy stigma meant there were almost no outlets for support. His big dream was to create something similar to the human concept of therapy and counselling, but for Alternia. This was an impossible feat to accomplish, until, of course, Sgrub happened. When introduced to Earth-C, Vyvyan was finally given the resources needed to create such an outlet for trolls in need of help. And he now spends his days spreading this kind forgiving treatment to anyone who may require it.

WHAT A LOSER LMAO.

Anyway yeah!!! Thats my lil guy :)

Some additional info ig:

He is dating Autumn, @digitalminstrel's trollsona (she is my gf irl :3 hehehehe!!!! <3 )

He is close friends with Linnea (@henryscircus) and Castor (@seeingstarzz)

Vyvyan is NOT a rainbow drinker, but feel free to ask him about this!

He and Gamzee are soulmates, however have not properly discussed this and therefore have not realised their potential for moiraileagence. This is because Vyvyan's JOB is to look after Gamzee, and Vyvyan does not properly realise how defensive he can get with Gamzee even when not in his presence. To his other patients, it is quite obvious he has a favourite. The 50/50 is Vyvyan acting as the stand-in lusus Gamzee never had, and Gamzee being on his best behaviour and even physically protecting Vyvyan like a guard dog should he become endangered (which happens unfortunately often, as some of his patients can be quite volatile as Alternian trolls are not entirely used to the whole idea of therapy).

He still likes foraging, and part of his daily activities with recovering patients is going on long walks, specimen watching (birds and bugs), observing rivers and other natural structures and (Gamzee's absolute least favourite) early morning hiking.

Vyvyan's quirk is a nod to 42 being my special number. It is also a nod to 42 being the answer to the universe.

He has a very slight lisp

Vyvyan does not speak to all of the heroes and doomed trolls on Earth-C, however has interacted with Eridan (who visits Gamzee sometimes), Tavros (who visits Gamzee frequently), Equius (who comes to rehab for anger management and anti-castism), Karkat (who appointed him to have such a facility in the first place), Gamzee (his first patient), and Sollux (who is contacted whenever the Rescue Team base encounters power outages or other technical difficulties.)

Vyvyan is diurnal, and unfortunately, Gamzee is now as well. Most of his other patients are nocturnal, and so Vyvyan sometimes does both day and night shifts. He wants more people to work at the centre with him to help him run it, however the only person who tried to sign up so far was Kankri, and Vyvyan did not see him fit to be a therapist just yet. (--<< Ther4pi2t2 need to uh... Do le22 t4lking, 4nd more 4ctu4l li2tening to their p4tient2! 4242.) ANYWAY YEAH so thats my trollsona. Thank you for reading if you at all bothered :) feel free to ask him anything!

[foxy--stoat]

Could u do a poly fic with all the roomates (young ones) pls

They were just going to see a film. Just a few guys, going out on the town. Nothing poofy whatsoever going on. (They were all, as a matter of fact, extremely poofy.)

Rick was wearing his most yellow overalls, and his boots that Neil said made him look like a woman. He stood by the door, posture proud and open, waiting for the rest of the roommates to come downstairs.

"You all had better hurry up, you know! The movie starts in fifteen minutes!"

"You can't rush magnificence." Called Mike from the bathroom. Neil sighed so loudly that it hurt even Vyvyan's head, who was pacing back and forth looking for his bracelet sharpener.

He stomped down the stairs, clearly in distress.

"Have you seen my bracelet sharpener?"

"I don't understand what you need it for, Vyvyan, are they not sharp enough?" Rick threw his hands in the air, a motion that went entirely unnoticed by Vyvyan, who was now ripping open and throwing the couch cushions across the room.

"I need them to be sharp, Rick. What if you're being a twat and I need to hit you? That wouldn't be much fun with a dull bracelet, now, would it?"

"Well, try asking SPG. He seemed a bit shifty earlier."

"Thanks Rick!" Vyv ran past Rick back up the stairs, punching him on the arm. This was Vyvyan's equivalent of a kiss on the cheek.

It had taken some getting used to, the whole dating thing. Rick had never dated anybody before, so he had expected flowers and chocolates and pampering. Instead, he got Vyvyan.

A few days after they announced their relationship to the house, Mike made a proposition and Neil agreed, and now look at them. A conglomerate of confused university students who also dated.

He was happy, as were the other boys. Their behavior hadn't changed much, save for leaning heads on shoulders, or holding hands. But he was happy this way, with his friends and his boyfriends.

He'd be happier, though, if they would hurry up!!! He was starting to get impatient.

Just as he was rolling his eyes, Neil moped down the stairs, barefoot.

"Where are your shoes, hippie?" Neil frowned.

"Can't find them. Just typical, of all the shoes in this house, of course mine go missing."

"I'll help you find them."

"Really? That's really sweet of you, Rick!"

"Not for you!" Rick blushed at the implication that he'd do something kind for Neil. "I just want to get out of here quicker."

"Oh."

Rick felt bad. "Well, don't look so sad! I don't hate you, you know."

"You don't?"

"Neil, we're dating. Would I date someone I don't like?" Rick shook his head in exasperation, as if this were supposed to be obvious to Neil.

"Oh. Thanks, Rick."

"You're welcome."

---

The streets smelled like roses and gasoline. Vyvyan picked a flower from a bush and handed it to Rick, who blushed, before looking inside it to see a gargantuan bee.

"Did you see it?"

"Yes, Vyvyan, I saw the bee. God forbid you do something kind for me for once, honestly."

"What do you think I was doing?" Vyvyan shook his head in disbelief that Rick could be so thick-skulled.

Behind the quarreling pair, Neil and Mike walked slowly. Mike noticed Neil admiring the rosebushes, and carefully snapped one off of its stem. Neil saw this, and moped. Mike was probably going to catch up to Vyv or Rick and give it to one of them. It wasn't his fault they all hated him, after all- His train of thought was interrupted by Mike tucking the flower behind his ear. He stopped walking in surprise.

"What's wrong, Neil?"

"I thought that was for Vyvyan. Or Rick."

"No, of course not! They hate flowers."

"Well, thanks, Mike. It's really pretty."

"Of course, babes. Anytime."

When they got home, Neil would press the flower under an untouched stack of dusty textbooks, and keep it on his bedside table, smiling every time he saw it.

---

They were 15 minutes late to the movie, but only Rick complained (without much heart). After all, it was hard to beat the time they'd been weeks late to University Challenge. They barged into the theater with their usual lack of regard for others. Vyvyan led the way down the aisle and clambered over a family of disgruntled filmgoers. They sat down, arms over the backs of the chairs, feet up on the chairs in front of them. Vyvyan pulled out a bag of popcorn, and they shared it, loudly chewing.

"What's going on?" Neil asked.

"Shh, pay attention." Mike said. Neil frowned.

The rest of the film was relatively calm, interrupted only occasionally by a bout of raucous laughter from Vyvyan, or a cry of "Fascist!" from Rick.

As they left the theater, they got many a glare, but they ignored it.

Neil and Vyvyan were used to being criticized, to the point where they'd stopped listening and done what they wanted. Obviously, they had gone to two very different extremes, but the sentiment behind it was the same.

Rick and Mike, however, were very conscious of how they were perceived, and Rick plastered a sneer on his face to disguise the discomfort.

---

The warm air hit them as they emerged from the theater, and Rick took his blazer off and tied it around his waist.

"I'm cold." Vyvyan complained.

"How are you cold? It's nearly 20 degrees!"

"I'm not as warm as you, Rick. Give me your jacket."

Rick spluttered. "I'm not letting you near my blazer, Vyvyan, it's for anarchists only." He turned his nose up, and Vyvyan hit Rick over the head. While he was distracted with the potential concussion, Vyvyan snatched the blazer, and shrugged it over his shoulders.

"Much better." He smiled triumphantly, and immediately his attention was taken by a squirrel across the street.

Rick stood in place, blushing, trying not to blush, and smiling. Mike and Neil kept walking, and Neil collided with Rick. He wasn't the best at watching where he was going. "I know that look, Rick. What's happened?" Mike grinned. Rick looked down, and saw that Mike and Neil were holding hands. A bold move, especially on such a public street. He supposed that Mike was used to bold moves.

"What makes you think anything's happened, fascist? Can a man not be happy? Well, certainly not under Thatcher, that's for sure." He crossed his arms.

"Mike, look, Vyvyan's wearing, like, Rick's jacket." Neil pointed out with his free hand.

Mike's eyes widened and he grinned. "Ah, I see. You should try on his vest sometime, I bet it'd suit you."

Rick gasped. "I would never. That man stinks like a fish. I, on the other hand, keep myself at my hygienic and physical peak at all times.

"Rick, you haven't showered since last month." Neil commented, to which Rick responded by shushing him frantically.

"Whatever. Hippie. When was the last time you showered, anyway?"

"That's beside the point, Rick. Anyway, I think he, like, looks cute with your jacket."

"Yes. Well. Me too, I suppose. I still want it back, though!" He shouted that last part in a very pointed manner, directed toward Vyvyan, who was now trying to climb a fence and reach the squirrel. It laughed down at him, and Vyvyan was getting more and more agitated by the second.

"Alright, that's it." He snarled, and picked up a chainsaw that was conveniently sitting on the curb a few feet away.

"Vyvyan, what are you doing? That's an innocent creature, and I'm not talking about Neil."

"Hey, I'm not innocent!"

"Whatever you say, babes."

"I'm hungry." Complained Rick.

"Oh, shut up." The other 3 chorused.

"Let's go home. Rick may be annoying, but he is correct. It's getting late. Neil, do we have lentils?"

"Yes, Mike. You guys have to help clean the dishes, though, because, like, it's getting pretty heavy, having to do all of them myself every day."

"But Neil, I have to feed the goldfish and water the plants!" Vyv nodded sagely, and Rick backed him up with a wide eyed smile.

"Vyv, you know I cooked those months ago."

"Oh. Well, fine. I'm watching the Bastard Squad after dinner though, none of that nature bollocks you like."

"Fine."

"Ugh, Vyvyan, you know I don't like Bastard Squad, it's just so reactionary!"

"Shut up, poof." Rick scowled.

They resumed the short walk home, continuing to chatter all the way.

***

my ao3 is @paper_chefs_hat :))) this is published in the series "the young ones ficlets"

[shinigxmi-muses]

Continued // @possiblyinsanemerchant

    His odd appearance aside, the clarifying opinions he held were invaluable. Too far removed from humanity, by this point, Kaguya had to start becoming creative when it came to such matters as...humor. It was a way to be “relatable” and “fun”... For whatever that stood for on this helpless planet.

    She could not shake the idea that they were all weaklings and couldn’t be depended on to save them from any sort of dire situation, but... That is what a mother is for, no? They can do their damnedest and a half to protect themselves, but she would be there to be the nail in the coffin.

    And hmph! To see and hear them react so, as if she had not done them a favor! Kaguya had been quite precise, this time: picking a building which was tagged for demolition before annihilating it with her abilities. She had done a favor AND provided good service! These screams and the running away was quite insulting.

    ...At least the odd masked man still stood there. Voice trembling, but otherwise speaking to her. However...

    Her pale eyes narrowed in open disapproval. Not humorous?! For a “ lot “ of the populace? And who within the galaxy was...Vyvyan...Basterd? (The name sounded like a swear word. Was this a joke? Must be less funny than her building act, she was sure.)

    Kaguya’s eyes were narrowed at him for an uncomfortably long time, before her mouth finally deigned to move.

    “...So it isn’t? And you would know of...comedy, masked one?” Perhaps he may. Were not people fond of masks? Yet, did that apply to their amusements, as well...? “I would have thought violence amusing, given the penchant for slapping and the like I’ve seen. No matter.”

    She turns to look at her work, then back to the little man before her.

    “...You would know better of this “humor” thing, then, wouldn’t you? I would instruct you to...educate me, on this matter.”

[scumbag-monthly]

The Young Ones - Bomb 💣

Original air date: 30.11.82

Reviewed by: @smashingblouses

Back in the early 80s there were a lot of anti-nuclear protests going on. It’s a particularly prominent memory for me because my parents were friends with some of the women who had protested as part of the Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camps in the 80 and 90s. Not only is Bomb one of my favourite episodes (Interesting being up there too) it also reminds me of that time, the people I met growing up and even some of the events I went to.

Bomb aired right around the time that the first peace camp happened at RAF Berkshire in December 1982. The episode is a farcical statement attacking government implemented nuclear weapons but also a gentle prod at some of the very people protesting the weapons. Something The Young Ones is always so clever at; ridiculing all sides.

The episode opens with a shot of a fighter jet dropping a huge atom bomb. The scene is set, the credits roll and we open on the bomb gently resting against the fridge, undetonated, in The Young One’s kitchen. 

We see the boys are all asleep, undisturbed by the destruction the bomb has caused, apart from Rick who, like the goodie two shoes he is, is awake and squeezing his spots in the bathroom mirror. Once he realizes the camera is on him he takes the opportunity to show us how great he is by giving us a private rendition of his latest piece of crap poetry. He sets the narrative by letting us know his political agenda for the day; cleaning up pollution and bombs. Little does he know, the perfect excuse for some good rants and political activism awaits him downstairs.

Neil awakens to the sound of his dying alarm clock. The death of household objects is a recurring theme through the show and later on the kettle explodes as it, quote Neil “would rather die than be used by me”. Neil seems to kill household items simply by depressing them to death. As a little aside it always amuses me to see the fake “Martial” amp in Neil’s room. A fun easter egg for any guitar players out there!

Down in the kitchen Vyv asserts his “weaponized incompetence” so that he doesn’t have to help Neil with any of the chores, leading to a farcical plate toppling, lentil spiling disaster, Mike tricks Rick into letting him into the bathroom by distracting him with one of his surreal jokes.

The morning unfolds and no one has actually noticed the atom bomb in front of the fridge. They play and fight around the kitchen completely oblivious to its presence. It turns out that Vyvyan apparently knew it was there all along but failed to mention it to anyone. Even an atom bomb in the house fails to worry Vyv.

Rick finally comes down stairs to see Vyvyan is eating cornflakes and ketchup as a result of there being no lentils for breakfast. Rick asks why he’s eating ketchup with his cornflakes and Vyv explains there’s an atom bomb in front of the fridge so he can’t get to the milk.

Suddenly they all notice the bomb that has been sitting right in from of their eyes and panic ensues. The boys each start to hatch their own plans as to what to do about said bomb. How will each character deal with such a conundrum?

True to character Rick decides to use the bomb to take down Thatcher and save “The Kids”. Dressed in British Army fatigues with trousers pulled up to nipples (an early precursor to his Bottom outfit) he sets off to the Post Office. His plan to send a telegram (wow that dates the show!)  demanding Thatcher’s cooperation. Whilst waiting in the queue Rick reveals his toxic hypocrisy, ranting and raving about how awful everyone else is. Beautifully or is that terrifyingly echoing the modern day Karen - was Rick the original Karen?

Meanwhile Mike is trying to sell the bomb to Libyan revolutionary Colonel Gaddafi via Reggie Balowski but in true car salesman style Balowski turns down the deal due to it not being the right colour and proceeds to scam Mike into part exchanging for a dodgy Robin Reliant - a car that “usually” has 3 wheels.

Vyvyan just wants to see the bomb explode and makes various attempts at setting it off. He finally whacks it with a sledgehammer bending it in the process, which apparently does nothing, before Mike locks him in a cupboard to protect his asset.

Neil goes about a very useless attempt at building a bomb shelter, and painting himself white to “defect the blast” this provides the perfect set up for one of Rick's great lines;

“Oh well that’s just great, racial discrimination, even in death!”

In fact this episode bares a lot of Rick's great one liners.

“People who don’t pay their TV licences against the Nazis!”, and “I can’t go to prison! I’m too pretty! I’ll get raped!” to name just two.

By the time Rick gets back from the Post Office he finds Neil hiding in his shelter and Mike has bought supplies for everyone. A great little example to show the family dynamic of the sitcom, Mum makes the home - Neil makes the bomb shelter. Dad goes out and gets food - Mike comes back with pizza and a Wimpy.

Rick rejoices to the boys that all “social prejudice and hatred” will be over by tomorrow, due to his amazing bomb threat plan, then promptly tells Neil he hates him garnering one of the biggest laughs of the show.

Finally we hear a strange ticking sound. The boys start to panic and dive under the table/bomb shelter pushing Neil out of his own creation - even Vyvyan is panicking. The bomb slowly cracks open like an egg and out pops a tiny aeroplane that whizzes around the room and flies out of the window. A surreal moment that reduces the viewer to gasps of mild annoyance and the notion of nuclear weapons to ridicule. One could say a huge anti-joke (A Rik and Ade special) but ultimately the message was conveyed, probably one of Ben Elton’s (blame Ben for the politics) finer non-preachy yet political moments.

[1863-project]

ask meme! I’d like to ask about some of my other favorite trainers in Pokémon. The only ones that have made me go as 🥺💞♥️ as Ingo and Emmet are probably Nanu from Sun/Moon/USUM and Kabu from SwSh!!

[ask meme]

Aha, anon, you've got a bit of a type there!

Frankly, Nanu and I are both cat lovers, and we're also both perpetually tired. (The difference is that he's older and, although I'm in my early 30s, my fatigue primarily comes from an autoimmune thyroid disorder I have.) We also both aren't inclined to take other people's bullshit. But...I'm definitely not a police officer and never will be, I'm not much for sitting around and doing nothing (I have to be working on something or other all the time), and I'm not begrudging about helping people (or, you know, at least pretending to be so).

The most obvious thing I have in common with Kabu is that I find it verrrry important to support and help the younger people coming after me! It's a big part of my autism advocacy work, as well as just being an archivist in general. We also share a fondness for Centiskorch (the one on my Shield team is named Vyvyan Basterd after the character from The Young Ones) and, according to concept art that never made it to the final game, big coats. But on the other hand...I am not keen on exercising much at all save for cycling and riding my rowing machine, I don't drop to my knees dramatically every time I lose to someone, and I most certainly do not jog everywhere. (I'm also not going grey just yet...)

[the-tardis-in-221b-baker-street]

Headcanon: The lads all get a blazer to match Rick's and put their own spin on it.

Badges from my collection that I matched to each gross boy. Watermark - My instagram

Top - Vyvyan I'M A MESS (Sid Vicious), BUS DRIVER, Nazareth (band), Madness (band), Don't Badger Me, Basf Super (cassettes), SO- WHO CARES?, GET LOST and i'll come running, Road Maker and Birell (Beer) It Goes To Your Tastebuds Not To Your Head.

Middle - Neil NICE ONE!, I'm a HERBIE, the Beatles, P.D.S.A Busy Bee, STAY WEIRD, Cherish Your Country KEEP BRITAIN TIDY, A squirrel, I'D LOVE A NEW GAS COOKER, SAVE THE BIRDS RSPB, psychedelic looking Mickey Mouse. Bottom - Mike FONZ IS COOL, A lion in sunglasses, the 3 wheeler Robin Reliant from Only Fools and Horses, You won't GET LUCKY, Queen Elizabeth II Silver Jubilee 1977, BEAT THE BURGLAR LOCK ME UP, Conveniently yours, Adam and the Ants, WHERE'S MY OTHER HALF.

[haneys]

waaa idk if u remember me (im leo/leos ^-^) but i hope u have a speedy recovery and i hope ur well otherwise <3

LEO MY TYO MUTUAL LEOŚ? Leo if it's you then oh my god I literally talked on voice chat with vyvyan like yesterday or two days ago and we mentioned you and we were like wah we miss Leo we need to get in touch again! this is such a coincidence! I still have your number saved in my phone with the picture of Rick and it's labeled "Leoś". thank you for the health wishes, we are somewhat very pain resistant so I'm doing good! :)

[toomany-selfships]

Pye Family AU - Birthday Headcanons

It’s my birthday and in order to cope I’m dumping this on y’all.

Hello TYO fandom, it’s the weirdo who rarely posts about how she’s a tad too fond of Neil Pye again. :) Also if you don’t know, the “Pye Family AU” is the name I’ve given my self ship/self insert AU.

Warning: Neil and I have a child because I like to pROJECT. So if you don’t like fan children or anything involving canon x OC relationships then just shhh please. (No one’s said anything mean yet, but I always get nervous.)

ANYWAYS, let’s finally get into the actual Headcanons why don’t we. Bullet point format bc idk how to write lately.

*Shane Madej voice* Here we go!

The day begins with Neil waking up to a toddler tugging on his sleeve.

He has to blink a few times before his three year old daughter comes into focus. She smiles brightly at Neil and whispers (rather loudly), “Papa! It’s Mummy’s birthday!”

Neil smiles back at the gleam in his daughter’s eyes. “Yes, babybee, it is mummy’s birthday.”

“We have to make her breakfast and a card before she wakes up!” Ophelia tugs harder on her father’s sleeve, causing him to finally get out of bed.

Before he leaves the bedroom, Neil gives his wife a kiss on her head and then he and Ophelia do their regular morning routine.

Once the pair make it to the kitchen they begin making french toast. [This means that Neil did most of the cooking. Ophelia got to pour in ingredients though!!]

“Papa, why doesn’t mummy like her birthday?” Ophelia innocently asks.

[Cue Neil PANICKING because how does he answer that to a four year old???]

“She just doesn’t, honey. But I’m certain she’ll love a card from you. Do you need help making it?”

[Great save, Mr. Pye.]

SO Neil writes “Happy Birthday Mummy” on a card and Ophelia begins scribbling away in the living room.

Eventually we have Mrs. Pye herself shuffling out of her bedroom with a sleepy smile. “French toast. Must be a special occasion.”

Ophelia gets up and screams “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” as loudly as she possibly can while excitingly showing her mother the scribbly card.

“Oh, right…Thank you baby.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pye exchange proper good morning kisses and everyone eats breakfast.

“Mummy, why don’t you like your birthday?”

[Again, Neil’s panicking.] “I dunno, baby, I just don’t. My birthday makes me sad, I suppose.”

“But birthdays are supposed to be FUN!”

“They are. Mummy has fun on your birthday, and on Daddy’s birthday, and sometimes on her own birthday. But it just makes her sad sometimes.”

Ophelia’s little baby wheels are turning for the rest of breakfast, but things go on like usual once cartoons are involved.

The day goes on as usual until Rick and Vyvyan come over.

Vyvyan’s obnoxiously singing happy birthday as he just walks right into the house as if he owns the fuckin place. Rick’s yelling at him to knock it off.

Rick still brought presents though bc 1. He loves gift giving and 2. It’s been a whole week since he saw his goddaughter last, she needs a new teddy bear.

(Rick darling she’s 3, she won’t love you any less if you don’t bring her a new teddy every other time you see her. I promise.)

[Also cue Rick being all “I KNOW you don’t like it when I buy you birthday presents but shut up and look at the leather bound journal I got you. I know you’ll fill it in less than a month but it’s the thought that counts.”]

ANYWAYS. Neil makes dinner and the adults have a few drinks and chat. [Vyvyan ends up preforming Teddy Bear Surgery because one of Ophelia’s bears had a small tear.]

Dinner goes smoothly then BOOM. Neil secretly bought a birthday cake. (Just kidding everything’s still fine.)

More obnoxious happy birthday singing.

When it’s time to put Ophelia to bed she sleepily asks her mother “Did this birthday make you sad?”

(Oh my heart—) “No, baby. This birthday didn’t make me sad.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

(Yes I’m sobbing shut up.)

Rick and Vyvyan stay for a few more hours and then they go home too.

Neil watches as his wife begins tidying up the living room a bit with the most loving and affectionate smile. “Did you mean what you said to Ophelia earlier?”

“Yea, actually. For once my birthday wasn’t complete dog shit.”

Neil laughs and puts on the radio. We end the night slow dancing together in the living room bc I said so.

[colourshot-draws]

We’re not angry.

Neil hasn’t been feeling too good and it certainly wasn’t in his plans to be found mid breakdown by his housemates. 

I’ve been in the mood to try and write some short angst with Neil so here ya go! (Trigger Warning for: themes of suicide, drugs and a very brief mention of self harm!!)

** "NEIL" A well aimed bottle found it's target perfectly. That target being a certain sulky hippies head. Neil barely had time to react before another bottle whizzed past him, just missing. "NEIL!!" Vyvyan barked again. Neil reluctantly turned around. "What?" He wasn't in the mood for this (honestly when was he ever in the mood for anything?). Vyvyan hadn't seemed to have got that far in the thought and just shrugged. Neil let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to focus on making himself tea, trying to ignore the growing depression that was coming over him. He assumed the guys were just trying to hassle him and bring him down even more. He wasn't totally wrong, they were trying to hassle him but not exactly for the reasons he may have thought. They were worried about him, in their own weird way. Neil had been mercifully quiet for a few days, in fact he hadn't properly complained all day. They'd been enjoying it so far (Rick more than anyone had been loving it) but they couldn't deny that it was beginning to become...weird. Everyone in the house had a part to play (whether they realised it or not) and Neil was not playing his part. It was unsettling the rest of the housemates.

"I'm, like, going to my room." Neil had finished making himself tea and now wanted to be alone. He had...other things to do. He waved quietly to his roommates and trudged upstairs. Any other day he would have made big song and dance about how he was leaving to probably off himself but he suddenly didn't feel like doing that anymore. In fact the worse he began to feel, the less he wanted to perform it. So he'd gone quiet about it. Not that anyone would have noticed or cared - that's what he assumed at least.

Vyvyan nonchalantly waved back (if Neil had been in any other headspace, he would have noted that as extremely odd) before getting a slight elbow in the ribs from Mike - reminding him that perhaps throwing objects at Neil was not the greatest way to show concern.

Vyvyan grunted and said something about "well then you shouldn't have asked me to help then!" Mike didn't listen, he was too focused on the mystery of why Neil had suddenly shut up. It wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd be concerned about, in fact considering how they treated him, it should have been cause for celebration. But it wasn't. Mike just couldn't shake the pit of worry that had begun to form in his stomach. He knew the others felt similarly even if they were trying to hide it.

Neil on the other hand was incredibly unaware that anyone cared in the slightest. You couldn't exactly blame him, he didn't have any evidence to support that anyone actually did. In fact he was focusing on the exact opposite, every activity he attempted to distract himself was pierced with those thoughts playing on loop. A constant drum of how much everyone around him utterly despised his very existence, it was becoming unbearable and making his head hurt. So that's how he found himself curled up on his bed, trying to quieten the sobs that racked his frame. His head hadn't stopped hurting, in fact it just pounded worse. The cocktail of drugs he'd taken in an attempt to quieten that deafeningly harsh voice inside hadn't worked, it'd only made him feel foggier. So foggy in fact that he took no notice of Rick's attempts to get him to open the door.

"Neil!! Open this ruddy door rwight now!!" Rick was trying to be considerate, he could have just broken the door down. Bloody hell! Why had they sent him to comfort Neil? Well he actually knew perfectly well why, Vyvyan had flat out refused to deal with – in his words – "any of that girly emotion stuff." Mike seemed reluctant as well but reassured Rick he'd help out if he was really needed. Just brilliant. Really really brilliant.

Rick didn't even care about the dumb hippie, he was an ugly mopey bastard, he did not blummin' well care about him at all! So Rick hated that he felt something akin to worry begin to tug at him the longer that door stayed closed. He was beginning to become tired of this, he felt like just bursting into the room. Neil's lock was worn down enough - thanks mostly to Vyvyan breaking into his room to torment him - that it wouldn't be much effort to just...force his way in there. "I'm going to count to three and then I'm coming in, whether you like it or not!" Still no response. "One...two" Rick was sticking to his promise. "THREE!-" Nothing, again. "RWIGHT!!" Rick huffed before slamming himself into the door, perhaps more roughly than intended. He was surprised he didn't accidently break the door at the ease of which it burst open.

"I suppose you think it's rweally funny to just leave me out there with absolutely no response-" Rick began his normal spiel before he felt the air knocked out of his lungs. That earlier feeling of worry had morphed into full on gut churning horror as the poet laid his eyes on the trembling hippie. Any smug remarks that would have normally left his mouth were quickly abandoned. In fact Rick couldn't bring himself to say anything, any words stuck in his throat. All he could do was stare. Neil had gone horribly pale and was shaking far too much. Despite what you might think, Rick was unsure if he'd actually seen Neil in such a state before. Judging by the angry red marks littering Neil's arms and the empty bags of whatever the fuck surrounding him, he was seriously not okay. And Rick had no idea what to do. He felt himself begin to dumbly stumble backwards, uselessly covering his mouth. As much as the poet talked himself up, he suddenly felt pretty pathetic. He felt the exact opposite of strong and anarchic, he actually felt as if he was about to pass out.

"Mike, I-I need to get Mike..." Rick tried to get himself to move, he legs had turned to complete jelly. Why oh why had he turned into an utter coward? His saving grace came in the form of orange haired punk who had decided that Rick really had been taking way too long.

"What the bloody hell have you been doing up here?" Vyvyan announced his presence, thundering up the stairs. He was about to make a very clever joke concerning Rick and Neil being poofy before catching a glimpse of Rick. He'd gone completely white and was shaking like a leaf. "Did ya see Neil naked or something?" Vyvyan asked gruffly. Rick barely even registered that comment and just weakly pointed into the direction of Neil's bedroom. Vyvyan felt a very slight twinge of unease. It wasn't like the spotty twat to look so utterly horrified (although maybe concerning Neil and anything in his bedroom, it was). Still, Vyvyan sensed something wasn't quite right. That was confirmed just from one look inside Neil's room. The hippie hadn't moved, in fact he seemed to have gotten worse. Vyvyan suddenly felt a whole lot less clever for his earlier comment (no he was NOT feeling guilty, that was girly and he was not girly). "I'll...get Mike." was all he said before rushing downstairs.

Neil became suddenly aware that was he no longer alone. Or at least slightly aware. His head was an absolute mess and couldn't quite tell what was going on. He did however, know that the idea of any of the housemates catching him in this state was the absolute last thing he wanted. He audibly whined at the thought of it, much to Rick's surprise (and begrudging relief, the hippie was still alive). Neil only begun to panic more at the sound of voices above him, so much so that he tried to fight off the (mostly) imagined threat.

"Neil..." That was Mike's voice. Neil didn't respond and continued to weakly flail his arms, his fist only very loosely connecting with his housemates who seemed undeterred.

"Neil" It was louder this time, harsher, must have been Vyvyan. Neil didn't -or more accurately- couldn't respond. His mouth was refusing to work and his head was still a fuzzy mess. Despite that, he managed to pick up on a slight sniffling sound followed by a quiet "Ruddy hell-"

Rick was surprised by himself, here he was getting all teary over the shivering and sweaty figure of his least favourite housemate (least favourite felt like a light term for it - utterly despised was more accurate). He felt bloody lucky that no one bothered to comment on it, he'd have vehemently denied it if they had. Mike was much too focused on actually trying to help and Vyvyan was following suit, if a little clumsily (he wasn't used to being all nice and helpful).

"Neil!" Mike's tone was firm but kind. "You're going to be okay." Mike hoped. "We're here..." Mike trailed off, looking to the others for some sort of support. For the first time in a long time, the cool person was actually sweating. They both nodded before realising that maybe Neil wasn't in a state to notice silent affirmation. Vyvyan grunted, albeit it softer than usual before throwing in a "Yeah." He didn't sound like he was trying awfully hard but for anyone who knew Vyvyan, he was being far gentler than normal. Rick didn't really trust himself to speak, he was still feeling a worryingly large amount of feelings and the last thing he wanted to do was become a crying mess in front of Neil. No matter how out of it he was. Rick settled on cautiously squeezing Neil on the arm, a sort of yes alright I'm here for you as well.

"I-I'm sorry, guys." Neil croaked out, that was the first sentence Neil had spoke for what must have been a few hours. The room fell deathly silent. "P-Please don't be, like, angry at me, okay?" Neil sounded scarily weak and yet the thing he was most worried about was pissing off his housemates. A unpleasant feeling of guilt settled itself in each of their guts. Rick almost wanted to laugh, why was the stupid idiot so worried about that? He was the one looking near death!! 'Probably because you treat him so terribly, you bastard-' Rick shook his head, mentally telling his conscience to shut up. Mike was the first (and only one) to reassure him.

"We aren't angry." That was all he said and it seemed to calm Neil enough. He went quiet again, save for the odd cry or groan.

**

None of the guys seemed keen to leave Neil's side, even after Vyvyan had reassured them that Neil would be okay - that he just needed to get whatever he'd consumed out of his system. You couldn't exactly blame them for that, trusting Vyv and his medical knowledge seemed like a shaky idea at best (even if he was actually right this time). They settled on the idea of taking shifts, surprisingly Rick spent the most amount of time with him. Maybe it was because he was feeling guilty but if you asked him, he would have told you it was just because Neil made for a good listener. Someone who physically couldn't get up and walk out once Rick started reading out his extremely long winded poetry. Though if you listened in on Rick's shifts, there was a distinct lack of poetry reading.

After the whole horrible ordeal was over, after Neil's shaking had slowed and he'd thrown up more times than he could count, after Vyvyan's (mostly) silent but strangely comforting presence, after Mike had regaled tales of his various expeditions in love and Rick's surprisingly subdued stay, Neil began to think that maybe a few people did really care about his presence after all...

[frankenbolt]

First Line Challenge

Tagged by: @neil-neil-orange-peel

Rules: Post the first line of one of your wips and tag as many people as there are words.

Oooo...I’m not sure I’ll be able to tag anyone who hasn’t already been tagged! That’s what we get for being such a tiny fandom. We’re all tripping over each other like we’re playing murder in the dark XD

Uhm... I have a lot of wips, and I don’t...think any of them make much sense without context. The ONE I feel the most guilty about not finishing is a follow-up to “We Close Our Eyes”, the AU @zombierose3  came up with where Lizzie becomes an Imaginary Friend instead of Fred becoming a human.

“Oh thank you VERY much, dear wife!” Fred sulked up at her. “I try to be all gentlemanly like, and let you pick our honeymoon and first thing you do is try to drown me! Charming!”

Not fandom related but prior to Three Times Dead, I had this text file called “Sweeney Gets his Groove Back” which was a...American Gods fanfic, which at 15 pages was my longest fic (then came TTD which absorbed my life at 189 pages).

If you were to ask Essie Mcgowan her opinion on the matter, she’d say that she was only doing what she had to in order to save her own skin.

Then there’s my Dancing Queen fanfic...

Neil hadn’t considered whatever happened after you get your fairy tale ending. 

The last chapter I started writing for Three Times Dead, Chapter 26...

Sister Geraldine had sighed and patted the girl’s knee. “I can understand why, my dear. But until the particulars of your brother’s estate are officially passed to you, I don’t think it’d be wise to change it til then.” 

Georgina had sighed and nodded. Sister Geraldine made sense. She always did. But she didn’t WANT to be B’stard anymore.

But I guess the only relevant fic is one I started in October for Halloween and never got past the premise...

Vyvyan paused in stirring the fluorescent green ooze being heated over the stove and listened in on the conversation Neil and Rick were having. He turned and winced as the subject of their muttering came into view again.

Mike was a gnome.

Anyhow, I KNOW, I know, I broke the rules by posting more than one line, but I can’t work on any of these because I’m so freaking busy...so know that I have all of these just...sitting in the holster. ^^

I’m not tagging because YA’LL ALREADY GOT EVERYONE IN THE TYO FANDOM THAT I KNOW.

[theevilesteviled]

Time for my long-ass tribute post to the late great Rik Mayall, who would have been (should have been) 62 today. 

When I was little, I had an imaginary friend. Well, actually, being an only child meant that I had a massive collection of imaginary friends from all over the shop. Books, games, films, my own imagination. But the one that had the most profound effect on me (oftentimes without me even realising it) was without a doubt, Drop Dead Fred. I swear, from the age of about 9 or 10, I must have watched that movie a billion times. Well, I did until I hit high school anyway. But even though I didn’t watch it once during my five hellish years of senior education, Fred still had a huge impact on my life. I remembered him as an important, fundamental part of my childhood, and began referring to everyone I loved as Snotface. (Amusing to some, I don’t think my significant others were overly impressed, however.) I don’t know why I never watched it during that time, even though I talked and thought about it often. If I had to guess, I think it had something to do with the ending. It just seemed a little too sad. I’m ashamed to say that I don’t remember what I was up to when Rik passed away. A self-centered teenager with boy problems and a pretty serious Motley Crue obsession isn’t exactly the key demographic for heartfelt mourners, after all.

Now, some of you know this, some of you don’t - I’ve never been overly closed off about it - but from about the age of 15 onwards, my mental health was a disaster. I won’t get into that here, but suffice to say I didn’t get a diagnosis until I was 17, and didn’t get the right help and treatment I needed until I was about 18, almost 19. Once again Drop Dead Fred came to mind, though not in the most cheerful of circumstances. The only psychology clinic that could take my case was for children, so I was left feeling like Lizzie sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by children while the chaotic mess of OCD, Anxiety, and Dissociation I’d been walking around with for nearly 4 years wreaked havoc inside my mind. And taking my medication - something I’d steadfastly avoided for as long as possible, convinced it was akin to some sort of weakness - did feel a bit like taking those little green pills. Especially when the side effects left me in a pretty sorry state.

But I’ll admit I didn’t seriously think about Fred or Rik until last year, when I was shaking off the tail end of my dissociation and trying to adjust to a life without my mental illness taking up 90% of my time. Without that focus, I was a bit lost. I’d got into my university course somehow - I have no memory of this, I was fairly convinced the rest of the world was a two-dimensional figment of my imagination - and was doing pretty well, but it felt a bit odd since it was a writing course, and I wasn’t sure I still knew how. Anything I did write was depressing, clunky, and didn’t sound quite right. 

And look, I’m not going to sit here and say that Rik and Ade saved my life or anything like that. They didn’t. I did, and my medication did, and my therapy did. And I was happier by then. A bit clueless and directionless and not really sure of who I was without OCD driving my every move, but optimistic and cheerful. I even started making friends.

Still, even I have to agree that they did have a profound effect. One that began when, by chance, Drop Dead Fred showed up on my dash. I laughed, realised I hadn’t seen it in such a long time (privately noted that Fred looked a lot cuter than I remembered) and then googled the film. And then googled the actor. And then googled the Young Ones, because it rung a bell from some long-ago part of my childhood. I was there for Rik of course, but I burst into tears as soon as Vyvyan came onscreen and I realised one of my other old imaginary friends wasn’t some bizarre flu-induced fever dream. I binge-watched the entire first season, went out the next day and bought the box set, and watched it all in a day. But that wasn’t the truly amazing part. The amazing part was that I started to write. And it wasn’t...well. It wasn’t great, but it was fun. I realised I was sick of writing the depressing horror I’d been churning out since the age of 13. I wanted to write comedy. I still do, although whether or not I’m actually funny is still up for debate. But its also worth remembering that I’d just started uni, so the Young Ones spoke to me on a level that it might not have otherwise. I saw myself in Rick, I idolised Vyvyan, and realised I was attending lectures and seminars with thousands of Neils and a surprising number of Mikes. I got a bit more confident, dressed the way I wanted to, was unapologetically loud and outgoing, made more friends and tried to make an idiot out of myself at every possible opportunity. I had a fucking ball.

Aaaaand then, of course I joined the Scumbags. Well, first I wrote Closets. That dumpster fire of angst you all seem to like so much. But then I got invited into the fandom, and I wrote fics and made friends and eventually formed a sort of family. Six months later and I’m still knocking about the fandom, writing fic and hanging out with other Scumbags, running zines and working on horrible og comedy novels that’ll never go anywhere, and having a bloody good time. 

So as I sit here, watching Clair de Lune, eating custard with a fork, thinking about Rik and everything he did in those short 56 years and trying really hard not to cry about it because @neil-neil-orange-peel will give me a good telling off if I get sad on what’s supposed to be a happy day, I can’t help but think about what life might’ve been like if I never watched Drop Dead Fred at the impressionable age of 9. It wouldn’t be worse, necessarily - again, he didn’t save my life - but I think it would have been far less interesting. 

So happy birthday you mad bastard. Thanks for all the laughs, and I hope you’re having a good one, wherever you are. I’m sure you know we all love and miss you loads down here, but I think it bears repeating anyway. <3

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

Scumbags! Guess what!?!

Thank you all so much, I can’t believe this has happened this quickly! ❤️ It makes me happy to know that I’m not alone in enjoying The Young Ones over 30 years after it first aired. Anyway, to celebrate this little milestone for the blog I’ve written a weird-sort-of-fic-thing. Apologies for it’s probable crappiness, I just had an idea and it wouldn’t leave me alone. 😅 There’s some Rivyan if you squint but I kept it ambiguous since I know not everyone’s a shipper. Third person but mostly Rick’s POV; angsty start; hopeful ending; set after Summer Holiday where THEY ALL LIVE DAMMIT!!! You have been warned…

The Young Ones Shouldn’t Be Afraid

Rick missed his record player.

There had been a lot attached to it before Vyvyan smashed it up; a lot of memories. Sometimes, listening to another round of ‘Devil Woman’ or ‘Summer Holiday’ had felt like the only thing saving him from insanity in the crazy student house. Looking back on it now, in the miserable evening hours that passed far more slowly than they ought to for someone of Rick’s age, he realised that perhaps the record player hadn’t quite succeeded there. Still, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that it had been a present from them. A present for doing well - alright, not well, maybe okay - in his O Levels.

Of course, there were also other things that Rick missed: the smell of actual food; warm, clean blankets and bedding; comfortable seats with cushions. In fact, if he thought about it hard enough, which he often did these days, Rick hated his life now. He had absolutely no security or safety, no one looking out for him at all apart from himself. He was screwed, wasn’t he?

This nightmare was supposed to have ended at some point. At some point, he was supposed to have been guaranteed actual food, warm sheets and comfortable seats again. He was supposed to get back some love despite his flaws and protection despite his failings. Everyone needed that, especially in Thatcher’s Britain. Rick was unpopular - he knew that, really, it was just that he had been forced to accept the fact fully recently. Without a doubt, there wasn’t a silver of a hope within him that anyone would offer him solace now that the only people to ever try were-

He was injured. Though they had all got off remarkably unscathed from their somewhat foolish exploit, that didn’t change the fact that none of them were at their prime. Rick often wondered if they ever would be again. It was almost poetical in the fashion that his spirits, flying ever so high before the crash, had plummeted down along with the wretched bus when it had toppled over that cliff.

There they all were: hurt and poor and homeless and talentless with next to no qualifications. The streets were cold and funerals were expensive-

Rick shut his eyes quickly, scrunching them up against the traitorous tears that threatened to fall; against the truth of the matter, which was that things were never ever going to get better ever again. How long would it be until the guys deserted him too? What reason did they have to stick together now?

“Uh, Rick?”

It was Neil, that useless hippie. Rick had never liked Neil right from the moment he first laid eyes on him. There was probably a reason for this but he was damned if he was going to give into his stupid, girly emotions now. Especially not for Neil.

“What?” he snapped back instead, a tad defensively, turning his head to the left to the face the corner of the alley they were camped out in.

He wanted to blink his sorrows away in private. As if it were that easy.

“Nothing, man,” Neil replied, almost affronted, “It’s just - you’re shaking. Are you, like, cold? You can have one of the blankets soon if you are.”

The blankets. Rick laughed bitterly and turned back to him. The blankets they had - one of which was wrapped tightly around Neil’s shoulders and torso, it not being long enough to cover the length of his legs - were nothing more than flimsy, dirt encrusted scraps from a skip next to a junk yard. One of the guys had uncovered them during their early days on the streets, not too long ago in truth although it certainly felt like an eternity.

“I don’t want one, I’m not cold,” Rick told him hostilely, refusing to meet Neil’s typically depressed gaze lest something about his own inner turmoil leak out, “They’ll most likely give us all wabies or something anyway.”

That’s wight. Just keep talking bollocks like you usually do, spotty, you can’t let them know. If they see you like this then they see everything! You might as well be dead! Just like your-

Rick’s conscience had never been terribly kind to him at the best of times - nowadays, it seemed, though it was true the bite in its tone had weakened with the hopelessness of their situation somewhat, its messages hurt twice as much. Rick let out a strange, strangled sort of sob and immediately coughed to cover it up. He jerked further away from Neil and hastily faced the alley corner once more.

“I’m just tired, Neil, aren’t you?” he whispered, not trusting his voice to hold out at a louder volume.

Neil hummed in agreement and nothing more was said on the matter. That was just the way things were now. Rick wrapped his arms around himself and allowed his resolve to crumble momentarily, mouth twisting downwards in misery as the bad thoughts enveloped him. No one would end this…

Except…

“Rick.”

There was a shadow hanging over him suddenly - a real one, this time. Rick trembled in defeat and forced his face to harden with indifference. Not now! Why couldn’t he come back later when everything wasn’t quite so overwhelming? He delighted in it, didn’t he? Picking just the right moment when he somehow knew he had an advantage. Tormenting Rick, torturing him like a corpse in one of his medical classes. Like a corpse. Like them. They.

“Vyvyan.”

Rick said his name softly. He was trying as hard as he could not to lose it completely and provoke an attack. All his senses were sharpened and ready. Well, as ready as they could be. Unusually, Rick realised in his anxious state, the normal tone of disgust or loathing had been absent from the other’s voice. He sounded almost calm and that… that was even more unsettling.

“Budge up, you bastard,” Vyvyan muttered gruffly, breaking the mood and restoring order to the universe. 

Rick obliged silently and shrunk as far into the corner as was physically possible. Shuddering at the cool, sliminess of the walls, an absurd thought about how different to aeroplane wallpaper they were entered his mixed up mind. He cringed. What was Vyvyan doing anyway? Sitting next to him to destroy any possibility of relaxation at all? At least, he supposed, there was now someone between him and Neil.

Rick just wanted to carry on as if nothing had happened, letting wave after wave of despair crash into him until it subsided and he could sleep. However, it seemed Vyvyan had already rejected this idea for the next thing Rick felt was a hard nudge to his right arm. Vyvyan had never exactly been gentle.

“Put the blanket on.”

There was that eerie calmness again. It offended Rick a little; as if this whole situation wasn’t awful and unfair and demanded everyone raise their voices in protest against it, not that Rick had actually done any of that. He twisted around so that he could see the filthy object on offer: it was their bigger one, the one with the torn ends that had gone stiff.

“Just keep it, Vyvyan,” he sighed.

This, apparently, wasn’t the right answer. Rick barely had the time to register the way Vyvyan’s orange hair flashed dangerously in the dying rays of the sun when he moved before the blanket was inexplicably wrapped around the both of them. He suddenly noticed how the other’s breathing was producing small puffs of visible air, just like a dragon. In fact, he was too. Maybe he was cold. Rick’s fingers ached at him then, begging him to give them cover unless he wanted his extremities frozen. Slowly, he moved himself closer to Vyvyan and his considerable body heat and let out a shaky breath.

“What are you doing?” Rick asked with scepticism, despite the fact that he was the one who had just huddled closer for warmth.

This hadn’t been how he had foreseen the evening going. Did he really want to be wrapped up tight with Vyvyan, of all people? The only person Rick knew who was more violent than the pigs. Vyvyan didn’t look pleased with his questioning.

“I’m trying to be nice to you, you poof. Can’t you be grateful for once in your life?” he snapped, the calmness in his voice straining, “I’m beginning to remember why I don’t normally bother.”

Vyvyan scrunched his face up in mild frustration - or was it to ensure the muscles still worked in the cold? Rick couldn’t really tell. His own face crumpled before he bit his lip and managed to get it together. This was ridiculous! He and Vyvyan argued and fought all the time; it was as easy as breathing. No, he just needed to deescalate the situation and end their conversation. Then he would be okay.

“I- I’m sorry, Vyvyan. Thank you for the blanket,” Rick apologised quickly, looking down. 

Damn! Why did his voice have to crack and why had his shaking grown worse? Vyvyan reached for his chin, forcing him to look into those intense blue eyes. Rick winced and couldn’t help but sniff. He was going to break, he just knew it.

“Listen to me, you girly bastard,” Vyvyan told him very seriously, causing Rick’s eyes to widen in a mixture of fear and uncertainty at what he was going to say, “We’re going to get through this, alright? You, me, Michael and Neil - we will.”

Rick was about to nod in agreement by default when he remembered that he and Vyvyan hardly ever agreed on anything and therefore what had just been said must have been complete bollocks. Instead, he shook his head - quite difficult considering the firm grip Vyvyan still had on his chin.

“But how can you say that? Nobody cares about us! Not anymore! There’s no one-” 

Rick cut himself off with a shudder and closed his eyes for a second or two. His voice was getting annoyingly uncontrollable and he wasn’t particularly keen on what he had been about to say. This wasn’t the manner in which he was supposed to converse with Vyvyan, they were meant to just insult each other. Still, Rick was almost too sad to care.

“There never has been anyone,” Vyvyan amended, continuing in his serious and quieter voice. He removed his hand from Rick’s chin and frowned, “Are you-”

“No I’m not!” Rick snapped at him, immediately turning his face the other way to rub furiously at the tear trail making its way down his left cheek, “And you’re wrong! You might have never had anyone but I did! Two people, actually-”

Once again, he couldn’t go on.

Oh God! This was it: his parents were dead. They were, weren’t they? No one was coming to save him.

Rick finally collapsed into sobs. He tried - in vain - to hush them and stop it but his body kept bloody shaking more and more and more and his mind kept reeling with sorrow, endless sorrow. He wasn’t going to be able to bury them properly, was he? He didn’t even know what had happened to them! He was their only child and he had disappointed them, he just knew he had! If only he could see them alive again… just once!

Yes, Rick missed his record player. More than that, though, he missed the people who had given it to him.

Through his distress, he became aware of Vyvyan wrapping an arm around him. In no position to fight it, Rick let it happen. The world truly had ended when Vyvyan Basterd was offering Rick Pratt comfort, hadn’t it!?!

“Vyv?”

The groggy voice of Mike, who had clearly just woken up, echoed from somewhere opposite the boys. Obviously, he had one side of the alley to himself. It was only fair.

“Is- Jesus, is Rick okay?” he asked, evidently worried.

If anything, this made Rick sob harder. He cared. They cared. It was nigh on impossible for him to respond in anyway due to the tirade of tears he was being consumed by but the knowledge that maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t as alone as he had first thought meant more than he could say in that moment.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he heard Vyvyan reply. He still sounded calm, “I’ve got this, Michael.”

Under ordinary circumstances such a statement would have made Rick scoff. As it was, it simply confused him, though in a good way. Why was Vyvyan being so nice to him? The more cynical part of him wanted to get to the bottom of this but the currently stronger part of him, the part of him that was weeping, reminded him with a nasty jerk that this wasn’t possible at the moment. He needed to say something.

“My- my parents-” Rick choked out. His vision became blurry with fresh tears as their faces flashed before him, “My parents are both dead.”

Strangely, despite what every work of fiction Rick could recall seemed to suggest, saying this out loud didn’t make the pain any worse or any less; nor did it verify the truth and make it palpable. At least he had said it. That was something. He continued to whimper, feeling rather pathetic in front of the others. Whether they cared for him or not, with his senses returning Rick was beginning to think that such a dramatic outpouring of emotion meant that he had really put his foot in it now, surely!

Vyvyan tightened his grip around Rick, which at first made him nervous. However, he quickly discovered that he was in fact only ensuring that the blanket was still secure, nothing sinister. Once more Rick was hit by the weird feeling of being this close to Vyvyan and not fighting. Even if they weren’t outright attacking each other, they were always making comments. Shouldn’t he be getting called a crybaby? Or worse? Or had he been right earlier: did they all care that he was sad? Nice of them considering he hadn’t exactly hidden the fact that he was planning to ditch them all before their circumstances had taken a turn for the worst. Whatever the truth was, Vyvyan’s body warmth overrode Rick’s thought patterns. He sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Vyvyan said after a while.

There was something different about his voice. It had gotten raspier. There was a reluctance in his words, as if he didn’t really want to dig this deeply into things but felt that he should. Rick looked up, his spotty face probably blotchy and shiny from all the crying. Vyvyan went on as if he hadn’t noticed and Rick watched the way the light of dusk framed his jaw as he spoke.

“Look - don’t get me wrong - I still don’t like you very much. In fact, I still think you’re a whiny, little git,” he clarified and then frowned, as if he hadn’t meant to word it like that, “I mean, it’s just the stuff you usually complain about is stupid and annoying and not-”

Vyvyan stopped abruptly and there was silence in the alley. Rick reached up to wipe his eyes.

“Not the fact that my parents are dead and we’re all homeless?” he offered, feeling more in control of his emotions.

“Yeah,” Vyvyan intoned, nodding matter-of-factly.

They were quiet for sometime again. Mike, who had been listening discreetly to make sure Vyvyan’s idea of handling things didn’t involve killing Rick, lay back against the wall in relief.

“Do you want the blanket, Mike?” Neil asked suddenly from beside the entwined duo.

He looked and sounded quite miserable, not that any of them had ever seen him especially happy. It was obvious by his shivering that the blanket really wasn’t doing a sufficient job. Still, despite the cold, Mike thought following Vyvyan’s surprising example would be kindest.

“Nah, keep it for yourself,” he told him, “I’m smaller, there’s less of me to freeze.”

Neil gaped in shock - clearly, he had been expecting the other guy to leap at the chance to use the blanket, even if it was mostly useless. He nodded in gratitude and almost smiled.

“Thanks, Mike.”

Then he began a fruitless attempt at making the blanket cover all of him.

It was strange what such a hopeless situation could do to four people who spent most of their time previously trading snide remarks and arguing. They had banded together; they had found that they actually cared for one another, apparently. It was them against everyone else at the end of the day, wasn’t it?

“What was it you said we were?” Vyvyan asked Rick, scrunching his face up in concentration this time, “Right before I - uh - drove the bus off the cliff?”

They all shuddered at the memory and Rick felt Vyvyan cringe in whichever emotion he possessed that was closest to guilt. He sat up somewhat, taking this opportunity to appear as though he hadn’t been almost-very-nearly snuggling Vyvyan, before giving in and pushing his insecurities aside so that he could lean properly against him and conserve his energy. From the corner of Rick’s eye, he saw the ghost of a smile flit across Vyvyan’s lips. Maybe his bedside manner wasn’t as shit as they had all assumed it was?

But, anyway, he had been asked a question.

“I said we were big bottomed anarchists,” Rick replied, snorting as he recalled how animated he had been on the bus journey.

Vyvyan shook his head. He was sure there had been something else, something more familiar…

“No, before that,” he pressed.

“He said we were young ones,” Neil cut in, having stopped trying to make himself more comfortable and accepted that this was as good as it was going to get.

The other three’s eyebrows raised in shock that Neil had remembered such a thing.

“Yes. That’s - that’s right,” Rick agreed, which was a totally new sensation for him.

He hadn’t realised Neil ever paid attention to the revolutionary things he said! It wasn’t as if any of them had ever paid attention to Neil and the drivel he came out with. Still, if he was going to become more interesting from now on-

“Yes! That was it!” Vyvyan declared in the boisterous voice the world was used to.

He grinned and Rick was only faintly surprised that this brought a smile to his own face. He was mixed up, wasn’t he? If they were back in the house and his parents weren’t dead - say, perhaps, Neil was serving them some more disgusting lentil casserole and Mike was reading the paper - he wouldn’t be glad to see Vyvyan grin at all, would he? This was only happening because their situation was so strange…. wasn’t it?

“Where have I heard that before?”

Vyvyan was asking him something else now and Rick found himself quickly pushing the previous concerns aside. He had to suppress an eye roll when what had just been said sunk in. How could anyone not know that? He was about to inform the group of this vital piece of trivia when Mike beat him to it.

“It’s the name of one of Cliff Richard’s songs,” he explained, “Rick had it on vinyl.”

This was true. In fact, it was one of Rick’s favourites. He felt something akin to happiness bloom inside his chest that his housemates had noticed this, albeit if only by accident or through his excessive playing of it.

“There’s a line in that song that I think is important, wight about now,” he speculated.

The familiar pain of grief was beginning to tug at his heart again. Vyvyan, as if somehow sensing this, gave Rick a gentle squeeze. The other two looked at him expectantly. He coughed awkwardly.

“It’s just… Cliff says the young ones shouldn’t be afwaid,” he said.

There were a few seconds of quiet whilst they all contemplated this. Only the close but far-off sounding London traffic could be heard from their lonely corner of existence. The young ones shouldn’t be afraid?

“Well I reckon ol’ Cliff was right this time,” Mike spoke up at last - he was their sort of leader, after all, “Lads, I promise you, we’re gonna be perfectly fine. First thing tomorrow we’ll find a telephone and ring Neil’s parents, we must have enough money for a call by now. When they answer - and they will - Neil’s gonna go and live with them-”

“And so are you guys!” Neil interrupted indignantly, seemingly not happy with the idea of being the only one off the streets.

“Neil, that’s very nice of you to offer but Rick, Vyv and I didn’t exactly make a good first impression on them now, did we?” Mike pointed out, “We wouldn’t want Mrs Pye being scared to watch ‘The Good Life’ in her own home.”

“Bloody show,” Vyvyan chuckled.

Neil, however, was shaking his head.

“No, no, I’m not going to just stay with my parents if none of you have anywhere to go. That would be, like, so uncool and heavy, man,” he argued, a look of horror upon his face at the mere thought of it.

Considering the abuse he was showered with daily, this was quite a selfless statement. It made Rick feel ever so slightly bad but not bad enough to speak up. Neil went on.

“I’ll convince them, right? They might vote Tory but they do have hearts,” he assured them.

Pfft! That sounded unlikely! Rick was about to scoff until he remembered who else had voted Tory. The derision died in his throat.

“Thanks, Neil,” Vyvyan answered for everyone, causing stunned slow blinks, “What?” he asked.

Mike shook his head in disbelief and continued with his master plan.

“Alright, alright. As soon as we’ve got a roof over our heads we can begin to deal with the big issues: firstly, we need dough and you and I know what that means,” he warned them, “Second, our grades are worth less than these blankets and no one with half a brain is gonna employ us.”

That was very true. Plus, only Vyvyan had really had any kind of career path set out for him when they were at Scumbag and even he was scuppered now. What kind of job was Rick supposed to do in the long run? He had probably overestimated the scope of the market for anarchic youth members with defunct degrees in Sociology. Still, Mike wasn’t done.

“Thirdly - and most importantly - we’ve got to sort out Rick’s parents’ funeral and some kind of memorial for SPG,” he finished more sensitively, aware that not too long ago Rick had been weeping over this first fact.

Vyvyan’s eyes misted up for a moment but he managed to force himself to be okay. Rick watched cautiously and gave him what he hoped would be interpreted as a comforting nudge. He had almost forgotten about SPG after everything else but knew that, deep down, the hamster had meant a lot to Vyvyan. He hadn’t seen him ever cry for anyone or anything else before or since. Then something dawned on him.

“Wait - you all want to help me with the funeral?” he asked in a higher pitch than he would have liked.

Mike sat forwards and removed his sunglasses from where they had been resting above his head.

“Did you have anyone else in mind?” he asked, lightly joking.

A huge sense of relief washed over Rick’s body. They weren’t going to abandon him - thank Cliff - they weren’t going to abandon him!

“N-no, I just didn’t expect-”

And there he was, tearing up like an idiot! Vyvyan rubbed his side in an attempt to calm him down.

“Don’t start crying on me again, you girl,” he warned him, half serious.

Rick laughed a watery laugh and brought a hand up to wipe at his face.

“Sorry, Vyv-” he started but was cut off by Vyvyan taking ahold of his mobile hand and wiping the stray tears from his face for him.

Oh. Rick blushed but didn’t draw away; he liked how cosy Vyvyan felt, just the two of them huddling for warmth. Vyvyan grinned at his reaction - a wicked grin - and his eyes flashed mischievously before he turned back to Mike.

“Sounds like a brilliant plan, Michael,” he agreed.

“Yeah, we can just take it, like, one step at a time,” Neil added, nodding.

That would be easier than going it alone, wouldn’t it? The group decided it was probably high time they got some sleep after this. They were all exhausted and the sun had already set. Rick stifled a yawn and closed his eyes; night on the streets was his least favourite time but at least with Vyvyan’s arm wrapped around him he felt a bit safer - not something he had ever thought he would feel about Vyvyan.

“Goodnight, guys,” Neil mumbled, followed by a chorus of similar responses.

Rick let himself snuggle Vyvyan’s side and was pleased that he acknowledged this by pulling him closer. No more words were said but the four boys’ thoughts were more or less the same:

The young ones shouldn’t be afraid.

~~~

Oof! Well that was that! Hope it wasn’t too awful and OOC. Also, in the time it’s taken me to type this up and edit it, the follower count has risen to 117! THANK YOU!!!

[seinfeldforlife]

thank u lovely @curraheev for tagging me !!

Top 3 ships:

luztoye / band of brothers

sobbe / wtfock

rik and vyvyan / the young ones but, like, crack (or is it?)

Lipstick or chapstick

chapstick i dont use lipstick

Last song:

killer by phoebe bridges

Last movie:

saving private ryan or julien donkey-boy

Reading:

i’m trying to finish beyond bob but then i’ll be reading dday by stephen ambrose

i won’t tag anyone but anyone who wants to do it!!

[sunnysynthsunshine]

(The Young Ones):Party Philosophy

It was new years, Kelsie was hanging out with the gang again for a...party....a new years party with those four...this will surely go well...

Christmas was mixed, so who knew what would happen in the new year, Kelsie had watched a few films, a couple Netflix shows while also doing art projects on the side but nothing could prepare him for...the Party

Kelsie walked through the cold streets of Bristol when he had reached his destination, his ears were ringing at the 1975's the Sound blaring from inside

he had a bouquet of sunflowers in hand and a shopping bag over his shoulder as he knocked on the door

the door creaked open, echoing louder than the music, someone had styled their pigtailed fringe in a more modern "indie" fashion and a necklace made of fairy lights as his red pointed boots squeaked whilst he jived over to the front door snorting his familiar giggle  "KELSIE YOU MADE IT!" he shouted enthusiastically  Kelsie shrugged smiling back "I know, it's now 2019!"  Rick cheered as he danced back inside "Now! let's parr-ty!"

as Kelsie walked in the house on the inside was like a circus, in each room something eccentric was happening, there was a bubble machine spreading bubbles about the house, Neil was having a few rounds of green with hippie pals,Vyvyan was impressing the guests with his mixology and DJ skills ,Mike was chilling on the sofa surrounded by multiple beautiful men...and women and men who dressed as women, some people were playing video games. too...even SPG was having a blast dancing with the flies and ice skating carrots.

there were spotlights flashing fluorescent desaturated toned colours making the usually yellow walls look pink and purple

it was beautiful to see, but there were barely any places to sit, Kelsie rolled his eyes "could we talk in your bedroom?", he snorted a giggle before replying "Of course, we can talk in my room"

he and Kelsie ran upstairs into Rick's bedroom, his room looked similar to how it did before, but this time he had a couple of posters on his wall one of which from the musical Heathers, he had added a couple more desks full of books,dvds and cd's and a PC with pastel colours making the place light up

Kelsie sat on his bed while he did the same while Kelsie presented his gifts, the first gift was the sunflowers, Kelsie lifted them up "Happy 2019",  Rick grinned happily as he took the sunflowers "Aw~ for me! thank you!"

he then put the sunflowers in a pot, placing it on the dressing table, Kelsie then took out the other gifts,a set of healing gems and some Wicca herbs for Neil,a Iron Maiden action figure,a collection of Metal cd's and Joker centered Batman comics for Vyvyan,and for Rick a light pink sweater that showed his name in Japanese kanji characters and a pair of black dungarees that had a "aesthetic" grid design along with a couple badges

Rick looked at the dungarees and smiled "This is great, you didn't have to do this", Kelsie turned his head "I wanted to, I haven't seen you in ages", Rick looked up and shrugged "True, what have you been up to? anyway"

Kelsie inhaled and explained "well I've been doing well at my media course, I've been with some mates,I learned that I am constantly in this dimensional vortex between me and "the other Kelsie, apparently the rift happens through a combination of lucid dreaming and mysticism, maybe we are all just characters, like actors on a stage you have the dreams that are imaginative, a form of escapism and are genuinely entertaining and wholesome…then you get the nightmares mixed with personal worries. a different show plays every day… you have thoughts that make you mindful, interested in a variety of topics and insightful and then you have destructive and intrusive thoughts, destructive, sometimes your alright and other times it's too much, too happy, your too overexcited, your too sad, your too cynical, your too anti-social....

Rick said, "Calm Down Kelsie, anyways I sort of get your philosophy, like robots we are given our tasks, but we don't know our meaning, until we figure it out for ourselves, sometimes accompanied by comrades on our journey, I originally thought I could be a revolutionary poet like the people in the 60s I studied about,but now I've learned a lot of them were very anti-feminist so I'm focusing on maybe being a photographer, writer or singer instead, maybe an actor too since I love volunteering at the local theatre, that Heathers play by Laurence O' Keefe and Kevin Murphy was brilliant it really spoke to me"

Kelsie blinked, "I love Heathers, I didn't know you did too, it was what got me back into Musicals and 1980s movies,"

Rick scrunched up his nose and stared "you know you sound like Effy from Skins"

Kelsie was shocked "Wait, Skins? you've watched that?, and Effy I'd say I'm more like Chris, Sid or Maxie to be honest"

Rick nodded, "Yep,loved it,always prefered the first generation though,like you don't intend to sound like Effy but the way you incorporate philosophy into your punk values and anti-social view on life it's like Effy, but despite that you still try to be there for people around you, despite times where your emotions are as hollow as eggshells

Kelsie tilted his head "I can see that but Effy still sounds more like you at times"

Rick quickly slipped on his new pair of dungarees  and picked up his camera "Anyways, let's start this Skins parrr-ty" he then tagged along with Kelsie downstairs

Kelsie was still groaning once downstairs "oh no you seriously didn't"

while Vyvyan was cleaning the bar countertop SPG popped out and said "no use foreshadowing while the room is as bright as heaven"

then the party had begun  "the music was blaring loud, RIck would, unfortunately, sing out of tune and Kelsie would dance along with him"

before crashing out on the floor next to Neil and his hippie pals, trying to astral project the universe, after that, they got back to singing and dancing from ABBA to The 1975 to MCR to Twisted Sister to The Wombats

it was quite the wild party, luckily Rick and Kelsie were teetotal (not drinking alcohol), while Mike was trying to stop Neil was puking into a plant and Vyvyan adjusted the bubble machine

as the party was almost over, while Rick and Kelsie were resting they kept talking about philosophy

Rick flickered his eyes "what goals do you want to accomplish?" Kelsey thought about it "I'd like to showcase my poetry to a wider audience, I'd like to make people laugh by doing some stand-up comedy and I want to be me for once, not letting anything hold me back, being able to bring art and love into the world, while also spending more time with my friends from the main universe and from this universe

Rick bulged his eyes out gasping "I remember now, this lucid dreaming thing you mentioned, I do it too,I've been in your dreams,this is a lucid dream,you are visiting this universe, in the dream,and your goals sound like mine, while not mine, but the other me, the person who played me as a character role in your universe, you've watched me, you write about me, you draw me, you think about me...well you think about me a lot"

Kelsie couldn't believe what was happening

Rick continued "I've inspired you a lot, and you have a lot in common with me"

"You...are me, your the next people's poet, that is your meaning to bring peace, art love and anarchy to the world"

Kelsie was speechless "I,I, wow"

Kelsie bowed to him "Well it is an honour to be the people's poet of the 21st century"

(a few hours later)

the music was still going, but Vyvyan was uninstalling his DJ kit so he could watch Netflix, Neil had a hangover and Mike was outside having a cigarette break

Rick sighed, "I'm bored" Kelsie rolled his eyes "same", Rick mumbled to himself "a million more parties and I'll still never get a shag" Kelsie had overheard  "Rick?"  Rick sniffled scoffing "what?" he looked up  "I've always saved mine for someone very special and if you think it's time can I be your first?"  

he smiled "yes you can," he said in a soft tone as they both ran back upstairs to his room,  with Rick being the bottom, but he did always know he'd be in that position

he pulled down his dungarees and slipped on a rubber johnny and some lotion, he was ready, he slithered along like a snake, while Kelsie felt not many physical feelings during the act he could feel a  sensation in his stomach,it was alright,but it had been overhyped so they just teased each other, pulling his pigtails and play fighting they ended up forgetting about the act and just tickling and cuddling each other

After a round of Guitar Hero, the party was over, Neil, Mike and Vyvyan waved Goodbye as Kelsie made his way back to the front door before he felt a soft peck from her lips as Rick kissed him as he waved goodnight