#taffy sings

[gooch-cancer]

can we please make blorbos from my shows popular again bc they are SOOO blorbo

[sastielsfandom]

Candy

[yemme]

Oooo la la ah oui oui....

[luveline]

how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻

(step)mom!reader, 2k

Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.

It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.

“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.

“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”

You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.

Your head hurts between your eyes.

Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.

“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.

Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”

“I hate retribution!” she shouts.

Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”

He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”

He stops. “You surrender?”

“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.

“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”

“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”

Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”

Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”

“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.

She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”

You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”

He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”

You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.

He doesn’t ask.

Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.

There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.

“At work?”

“All day.”

“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.

Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.

“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”

Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”

“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”

The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”

The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.

“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.

“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”

“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”

“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”

“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”

“Eddie.”

He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”

You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.

“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”

“She deserves more.”

“She deserves you. You love her.”

You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.

“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”

“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.

“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”

He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”

He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.

“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”

You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”

“You give a good pep talk.”

“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”

“If you stop being so nice after.”

Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.

“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”

You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.

He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.

“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”

Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”

“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.

“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.

“We’re having time to ourselves.”

“I don’t need time away from her.”

“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”

You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”

Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.

—

more eddie, roan and reader

[trueloveistreacherous]

Oh this song brings me back. We used to play the Heartbreakers soundtrack in the locker room after a win. Must bring you back too. No, not really. I mean, I remember singing it at Wembley. I was 19. O-Town opened for us. God, I was fearless! I didn't know it'd all be gone in a matter of months. But life happens. You know, you grow up, nobody thinks you're special anymore. Somebody calls you a cunt at the Duane Reade. Stuff like that. That was a longer reply than I expected. God, Taffy's right. I do miss something. I miss her. And when I'm onstage, I feel like her again....and I like it. Sara Bareilles as Dawn Solano in season 3 of Girls5eva (2021-present) created by Meredith Scardino

[loveinhawkins]

tile echoes

ao3 Written for @steddiemicrofic September 2024 prompt, “shower,” 399 words. Rated T, Missing Scene, pre season 2. cw: implied/referenced homophobia

When he was a kid, he used to be afraid of the shower—not the water, really, more the noise, the shaking of the pipes; he used to think there was some shadowy monster lurking in the drain, that if he lingered too long, its, like, tentacles or whatever would come sneaking out, all stretchy like taffy; they would wrap around his ankle, and drag him down to…

He’s tempted to say Hell, but that seems cliché—woefully unimaginative Mr Hauser would say but only jokingly, and God, he needs to finish that essay—and anyway, he grew outta the fear pretty quick, ever since he went to Wayne’s and the pipes still rattled obviously, but it didn’t sound the same as—

Shit, he’s definitely spent too long in here, what the fuck is Lewinsky looking at? Has the bell rung already?

Eddie shuts the water off too quickly—a harsh squeak, and he can sense heads turning, Jesus Christ, you idiot, feels the ridge of pruny wrinkles on his fingertips; yeah, he’s been in here way too long, sure, there might not be monsters lurking in the drain, but this is still a dangerous place to get lost in his head.

At least the smell of the pool is off his skin, but without the distraction of the water running, he can’t ignore how—

It’s so annoying the way Steve Harrington’s voice floats above everything else, like the loudest singer in a choir—but what’s more annoying is that Eddie knows that’s not actually true; it’s just all he can hear, no matter what: how even the quietest of Steve’s laughs reverberates, shatters off the tiles, right into Eddie’s chest; strategies for basketball practice shouted across the room; every effortlessly cool reply about upcoming parties.

And worst of all—worse even than the sincerely sweet mentions of Nancy Wheeler—the way he softly sings to himself, a sound that should be swallowed up by the noise of everyone else, thunder only happens when it’s raining, unfairly beautiful in its imperfections, just like the rest of him; and Eddie has to leave before something shows on his face.

The chafe of clothes against still damp skin; one last sight of Steve’s bare chest, a hand reaching up to towel his hair.

And isn’t it just hilarious, Eddie thinks bitterly—that even though Steve’s the one who’s half naked, he’s sure he’s the only one who feels exposed.

[106alibi]

good graces ; 24/7 on the bowl (profiles 1)

@/ynpng :: y/n (2002) has always had an eye for aesthetics and having graduated top in her cohort in journalism, y/n climbed to the role of the deputy editor at one of the largest fashion and lifestyle magazines in South Korea, Eminence, in no time, making her one of the youngest yet most talented employees at the magazine company.

@/ningswife :: y/n's private account.

@/official_kazuha :: nakamura kazuha (2003) moved to Korea from Japan when she was accepted as a student to the same arts school as the rest of the girls to pursue her ballet career. but after suffering an injury that rendered her unable to continue her ballet career, she switched over to modelling and has been on the runway ever since.

@/ningyizhuo :: if you know anything about music, you've definitely heard of the girl group aespa. ning yizhuo (2002), better known as ningning both by her closest friends and her fans, moved to Korea when she was just a young teen after passing the auditions back in China. she was sent to an arts school where she met the rest of the girls and eventually debuted as the main vocalist of the popular girl group.

@/taffyplays :: oh haewon (2003), had initially dreamed of becoming a singer. she entered art school to pursue that dream of hers, where she met the rest of the girls, and started gaming as a hobby and coping mechanism under the name TAFFY, uploading funny moments and clips on her youtube channel for her friends and family. she didn't expect one of her videos to go viral, and as the sponsorships and clients came in, she decided to give up on singing to pursue her new dream, though a quick search would pull up clips of her belting to songs in the middle of her live streams.

the four girls met at art school, with y/n and ningning being classmates and kazuha and haewon being classmates. the two duos became acquainted with each other whilst preparing for a school festival in the same committee and clicked like peas in a pod, inseparable ever since even as they branched into their individual careers. contact names: haewon: demon baby kazuha: angel baby ningning: sexy baby

m.list | next

a/n: should've known i lack self-control. do we fw the taffyplays edit I worked my ass off 😔 I love my queens

taglist: @yutarot @rksbae @sevn97 @dreamiestay @raevyng @catpjimin @mrsjohnnysuh @xiuriii @minkyuncutie @jaehyunsjasmine @cookiehaos @jenoleeaesthetic @tynlvr @ohwowzersthatscool @rubiiisyeon @multifandomania @girlz4jaem @veilico

bold = can't tag for some reason! check your settings or lmk if I just spelt your user wrong...

[luxaofhesperides]

"I see you, and I love you" + hurt/comfort ; requested by @oops-i-dropped-the-galaxy!

Danny can handle being a halfa. He’s had years to get used to it, switching between dead and alive, living boy and ghost, always living in flux. He’s settled into his identity as one of the few halfas in existence, navigating the living world and the Infinite Realms with ease after years of practice.

What he can’t handle is becoming an Ancient.

Apparently, while most Ancients are born into the role, ruling over their domain, some can grow into it. It’s rare, practically unheard of, but not impossible.

Danny is growing into the Ancient of Stars, changed from the inside out by his love of space. 

He would be happy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Danny can’t sleep at night anymore. When the stars are out, he can hear them singing, each windchime voice echoing through his ears. Though he can’t see them from beneath Gotham’s cloud cover, he can feel them shining brightly far above him. 

He lays in bed with Duke, curled up in his side, trying to muffle his whimpers as his bones creak and hollow, his soul growing too large for his body to handle. He is space contained in a human body. It wants to be free, to stretch from its suffocating confines and fill every dark space with cold light. His skin feels too tight and his teeth ache. 

All Danny can do is clench his jaw, wrap his arms around his stomach as tightly as he can, and try to weather through the pain of changing.

The agony of it comes in waves. He doesn’t know how long it takes until it recedes enough for him to feel like he can breathe again, trying to suck air in as his lungs are crushed by his ribcage. Slowly, Danny pushes himself up, taking care not to wake Duke, and stumbles out of bed. His throat is dry and feels as if its been scraped raw by sandpaper, and all he wants is water.

He gets halfway down the hall when the next wave hits.

Danny collapses, gasping for breath, and can only watch through tear-filled eyes as his fingers go dark, the same black as deep space. His body shifts, bones cracking and muscles stretching like taffy, and suddenly he’s big larger than life a galaxy a black hole there is darkness everywhere it is alive it is full of stars the stars are singing the stars are singing the stars are si

“Danny? Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

That’s Duke’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere, even from miles away, even when he’s sure he doesn’t have ears anymore. It takes all his effort to pull himself back to Earth, back into their apartment, blinking up at Duke as the stars in his eyes fade away. 

Duke kneels before him, concern clear on his face, gentle hands reaching out to hold Danny steady. The feel of his warmth grounds him, keeps him more securely in his body. The pull of space is still there, tugging at him, trying to pull him out of humanity and into the form of an Ancient, but Danny can resist it so long as Duke keeps him tethered to the ground.

“It hurts,” he croaks, shivering.

“Shh, I know, baby. How can I help? What do you need?”

Danny leans forward, burying his face in Duke’s chest as tears slip out of his eyes. “It hurts,” he says again, voice shaking. “I keep changing and growing and my entire body is being torn apart and—” he gasps, cutting himself off. “I keep disappearing. I don’t want to disappear. I want to stay here but it takes me away and then I’m too big and no one can see me and I’m alone—”

“You’re not alone, Danny,” Duke says, holding him tightly as if his arms will be enough to keep Danny from breaking out of his own body, ridding himself of a mortal vessel, his only remaining tie to this world. “I see you, and I love you. Even if you have to change and go far away to be happy, I’ll find a way to follow you there, okay? I’m with you for as long as you want me.”

“I don’t want to hurt so much,” Danny whimpers, black fingers speckled with stardust clawing at Duke’s arms. 

“Just breathe through it, sweetheart, you can do it. Let it pass through you. I got you, okay? Just let the pain pass and you’ll be fine.”

He wants to snap at Duke that it’s not fine, that the pain will be forever, it’ll linger in every one of his joints, that he can’t just stop fighting it because it’ll hurt even worse then. But his jaws are aching, his teeth sharpening, and there’s a black hole in his throat that he refuses to let loose. He lets out another pained whine, shivering, and in his chest a star is formed, burning bright and angry.

“Breathe, Danny, breathe,” Duke soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Danny’s back.

It’s habit to relax into his touch. They’ve spent so many nights working through night terrors and injuries, comforting each other through gentle touches. The pain eases a bit, and Danny sighs, frost on his breath. 

“There we go, sweetheart, that’s it. You’re doing just fine.”

Another tear slips down his face, but the ache in his entire body as his growing ghost form tries to escape begins to fade. 

He’s spent so many nights in pain, waiting for the sun to rise to muffle the singing of the stars. If he can get any relief, he’ll take it, even if it means losing his human form.

Danny stops fighting. His resistance to this change falls away. There’s a moment where the pain disappears entirely, the world going still, but before he can let out a relieved sigh, the change hits him like an asteroid, sudden and instant and inevitable.

A cry is ripped from his throat, but it doesn’t sound like him. It echoes, deep and inhuman, and suddenly Danny is every dark space surrounding the stars, the arms of every galaxy, suns burning bright and dying, supernova, cold and ice and the slow drifting of planets in orbit. His body grows, expands, no longer a ghost but an Ancient, body curling into itself to stay within the walls of the too small apartment, large hands cupped around Duke to keep him safe. 

He can feel the cold of space. Orbits dance in his mind. Meteorites and asteroids drift without pattern across his chest. Danny can see everything with too many eyes, and he can cup planets in his palms, so much larger than possibility. His chest opens and expands and his body can curl around Earth and keep it safe. 

He feels settled in this new body, senses stretched in every direction and the universe is so much lovelier than he could have ever experienced it in a halfa’s body. 

Danny, Ancient of the Stars, hums and the universe shivers, singing back to him.

The pain is gone completely. He wonders why he resisted so hard; this is what he’s meant to be. He’s never felt so right before.

“Danny?”

Duke’s voice is small, but only because he is small when compared to Danny in his Ancient form. 

Duke, he tries to say but his vocal chords have changed. Instead of words, a deep hum erupts from his throat, similar to the purr of a particularly large cat. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Feeling better?”

Danny nods, pulling himself back together to feel his body more keenly, no longer stretched across the universe, cradling every star in his reach. Duke reaches a hand up and Danny reaches back, folding himself back into his body. His human eyes return and he realizes the apartment is completely covered in darkness with stars sparkling all around them. It recedes as he fits himself back into his body, the black on his fingers fading away until his hand is indistinguishable from a normal human’s. 

He takes hold of Duke’s hand and tries to stand. His legs are weak and unsteady and he falls onto Duke, who catches him with ease and sweeps him up into a princess carry. 

“There you are, honey,” Duke says, voice warm and relieved. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel a lot better.”

“Good. Do you need anything? Hot chocolate, heating pad, sleep?”

Danny thinks for a moment, then says, “Hot chocolate.”

“You got it. Let me just set you on the couch and I’ll have it out in a minute.”

He carefully sets Danny onto the couch, then tucks the blanket they keep folded over the back around him. Once he’s satisfied Danny is comfortable, Duke heads to the kitchen, flicking on the light as he does. 

Danny sinks into the couch cushions, carefully moving all his fingers and toes to make sure they’re fine. He’s a little sore, as if all his bones where put through the ringer, but it doesn’t feel any different from when he has a particularly rough training day. 

What’s more important that his physical body is the fact that he can feel his core, settled deep in his chest. It’s no longer the cold of ice, but it burns coldness, a white star embodying his soul, a changed core to reflect his transformation into an Ancient. 

A baby Ancient, technically. He still has some growing to do, but the rest should be easier and, hopefully, less painful.

He closes his eyes and begins to drift off when he hears Duke return. It takes some effort to open his eyes, and his smiles softly and sleepily when he sees Duke set down two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Love you,” he mumbles, freeing a hand from the blanket to try to pull Duke down to join him.

Duke goes to him easily, sitting next to him and pulling Danny in to cuddle against him. It’s been so long since he last felt so comfortable at night, not writhing in pain and biting through his lip to keep quiet, that he can’t help but sink into it. A purr starts up in his chest, and Duke startles.

“Sweetheart, are you purring?”

Danny flushes and tries to hide his face. The purr doesn’t stop. He’s always been able to purr after becoming a halfa, though purr is just an easier way to describe it. It’s less of his vocal chords vibrating and more of his core rumbling in contentment. Usually, it’s unnoticeable, barely able to be felt let alone heard. Apparently, becoming an Ancient and therefore a much stronger ghost means his purrs are also stronger and louder.

“You’re so cute,” Duke says, pressing a kiss against Danny’s forehead. “Drink your hot chocolate, and then we can go back to sleep.”

He makes grabby hands at his mug, and Duke laughs and picks it up for him.

“Love you,” Danny repeats, voice less muffled.

“Love you, too,” Duke says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m glad you were there to help me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out. I’ve got you, sweetheart, always.”

Believing him is the easiest thing Danny has ever done. If Duke says he’ll be there for, then he will. 

Always, always, always.

. . .

[send me ghostlights prompts!]

[hotvintagepoll]

Okay, but now I must know your opinions on Putt-Putt games! (Gotta disagree with you. Putt-Putt Goes to the Moon is clearly the Best of them all)

i haven't played all the games (including Goes to the Moon, sadly), but here are my unfiltered reviews for all the ones I have played!

Putt-Putt Saves the Zoo: a classic. a slowburn. the same every time but that adds to its aura of stability, the old world, a pocket out of time undisturbed. also there are cheese puffs and you can have putt-putt eat them over and over if you don’t care much about saving the elephant

Putt-Putt Travels Through Time: more hectic, meandering, a loop in a loop: the clues ever spiraling outward, the chaos of time unlocked vying with old prospector stereotypes and a deeply inaccurate Middle Ages. a singing hourglass asks putt-putt to resolve reality and he responds “and my homework?” Notable for its wagon wheel fruit snacks (edible if you want to sacrifice the entire old west portion and shoot your gameplay in the foot) and the talking floating lipstick wearing car i had a crush on as a 4 year old.

Putt-Putt Enters the Race: a!!! banger!!!!! yes you get stuck in the vegetable garden too long. yes you wonder why Outback Al, a supposed zoologist, doesn’t know what a baby yak eats. but there’s a cat stuck in a tree and a dog with buried treasure and sometimes the shed is on fire! this is riveting domestic drama and the cherry on top is the number of milkshakes one can order. (a lot.)

Freddi Fish and the Stolen Conch Shell: the most perfect of the freddi games in my opinion for channeling noir coral reef aesthetics into a chiming, dark-hue’d mystery. shady characters galore (also a monkey). an intense climax with true stakes. a squid with a cabaret act. freddi peaks. (the seaweed looks soooo edible.)

Freddi Fish and the Hogfish Rustlers: ok this one kinda beefs it ngl. yes there’s an old timey bar yes you can order a root bear soda. but the vibes? the QUEST? the menace of the deep? lacking. there is one cool part where you can intentionally drown a ship, but otherwise the aesthetic is too brown to really go full High Noon.

Freddi Fish and the Case of the Creature of Coral Cove: the character design in this suuuuucks I couldn’t tell you why I just hate all of them. BUT there is a taffy machine and I love the finale of running around the house flipping open secret doors and bribing dogs, so I give it points for that.

Freddi Fish and Maze Madness: aptly named because this game has been driving me insane for years. I played it last week and I’m still stuck on level 31. what the fuck. humongous entertainment said let’s make a game for 8 year olds so we can really let those little suckers know they ain’t shit because this thing is impossible

[vomittedsoap]

I know that John Irving canonically is just a very normal--if not almost curmudgeony and cruel guy... but I can't help but depict him as a fun-loving whimsical dude. Literally Windy by The Association in human form. The physical embodiment of banana Laffy Taffy. He would sing to little blue birds like Snow White if you just let him.

[modmad]

I hear you're a durango and silverton narrow guage railway enjoyer 👀🚂 I spend a lot of time at the depot/museum because my dad works there as a veteran fireman, engineer, and safety advisor, and our family friend runs the museum! If you ever get to southwest Colorado, riding the train is absolutely a must - they also do a polar express overlay in the winter, which is so fun. You didn't hear it from me, but a few weeks ago when I was visiting, Kevin Costner was using the depot to film bits for his new western trilogy, and my dad helped out on set aboard the engine. Choo choo!!! (big fan of taffy train btw I adore all your art!!!)

A CELEBRITY IN MY INBOX WHAT A BLESSED DAY IT IS you know Taffy Train?! A thousand angels sing in chorus. Train stans win forever.

[sasakisyndrome]

theres something so special about charles and edwins Songᵗᵐ being welcome to the black parade because it just feels so distinctly them. like dead boy detectives and the black parade have similar thesis statements so its not super surprising but man do they go together well.

the song starts with a simple, elegant, and recognisable piano melody all on its own with relatively untouched vocals. that piano stays the prominent focus of the first half of the intros instrumental but is soon joined soon with the more parade-like rythyms, almost militant sounding drums and the piano (likely) mimicking a xylophone.

the use of these much more classical feels like it should juxtapose with the gradually crescendoing drums and the focus shifting from the piano melody being the most prominent to the electric guitar, a much modern instrument then the piano during the reprise of the first stanza of the song into the latter half, but the drums (representing the parade of death) keep the melody grounded together.

and the thing is somehow that combination of the piano into the guitar works it sounds awesome. the transition from gerards relatively gentle singing over the piano into the belting over the much more traditionally “rock emo” sound. the album is a rock opera which in itself should be an oxymoron but somehow WORKS.

and isnt that just such a perfect parallel to the prim and proper shy edwardian boy who died in 1916 (and missed 70 years of earth history) and the boy from the 80s who wears punk patches, and jewelery who is self declared “aces with other people.”

and that just the insturmentals, don’t even get me started on the lyrics like holy guacamole !!!!!!!!! there’s just such an inherint teenage angst to it that you can just get why it’s resonated with so many young people.

He said, "Son, when you grow up, would you be, the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?"

though the boys never did get to grow up, they spend their time helping other ghosts with unfinished business be able to move on to their afterlives, helping the broken, the beaten, and ocassionally, the damned. that’s a basic breakdown of the show!!!! and the bridge omg…

Do or die, you'll never make me, Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part I won't explain or say I'm sorry I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar And give a cheer for all the broken Listen here, because it's who we are Just a man, I'm not a hero Just a boy who had to sing this song Just a man, I'm not a hero I don’t care

charles and edwin never wanted to be “the dead boy heros” thats a horrible name. they just wanted to be detectives and to solve mysteries that no one else would. and they do it in exchange for top hats, and taffy, and cursed objects from people who needed help.

two boys who were both hatecrimed, whos deaths got covered up, who saw humanity at its absolute lowest, still choose to believe there is good in the world and want to help others. and they’re gonna be themselves while doing it! they’re gonna be bitchy, and loud, and forget things, and act like teenage boys, and if you don’t like that then go find other detectives.

when talking about the song gerard way spoke about how he liked that “a parade could either be for a funeral or for a celebration.” and for the album, and for the show, it’s both. and i’m very glad he and the rest of the band let them use the song in the trailer. because though the boys are dead and gone, but that doesn’t change the fact that they will carry on.

[theolivetree123]

More About My TWST OCs!

"This world is full of mysteries. Take my hand, and let's explore it together!"

Basic Info

Name: Constance Sanderson

Age: 17

Height: 172cm

Birthday: October 31st

Dominant Hand: Right

Dorm: Diasomnia

Grade: Freshman (1st Year)

Favorite Food: Macarons

Best Subject: Potiontology

Club: Equestrian Club

Hobbies: Dancing

Homeland: Briar Valley

Twisted from: Winifred Sanderson (Hocus Pocus)

Signature Spell:

Deadly Dance!

Constance, Silas and Victor all share a signature spell. When they all sing together, they can make any one who hears them submit to their will.

Random Fact!

“Sanderson” isn’t Constance, Silas or Victor’s last name. They just use it to make them seem important.

“Don’t be afraid. The darkness may seem scary, but it becomes rather comforting. Here. Take my hand, I’ll guide you through the dark.”

Basic Info

Name: Silas Sanderson

Age: 18

Height: 181cm

Birthday: July 16th

Dominant Hand: Left/Right

Dorm: Scarabia

Grade: Freshman (1st Year)

Favorite Food: Chocolate Cake (or just any chocolate dessert)

Best Subject: Conjuration

Club: Pop Music Club

Hobbies: Botany

Homeland: Briar Valley

Twisted from: Mary Sanderson (Hocus Pocus)

Random Fact!

Silas has a massive crush on Jamil. ( I may be cringe, but I’m free)

“Aw, don’t cry dear! Here, let me soothe you with a song. Would that make you feel better?”

Basic Info

Name: Victor Sanderson

Age: 17

Height: 174cm

Birthday: September 30th

Dominant Hand: Right

Dorm: Pomefiore

Grade: Freshman (1st Year)

Favorite Food: Saltwater Taffy

Best Subject: Practical Magic

Club: Film Studies

Hobbies: Clothing design

Homeland: Briar Valley

Twisted from: Sarah Sanderson (Hocus Pocus)

Random Fact!

Victor is a brunette, but his birth-mom wanted him to be blonde, so he got his hair bleached. Now, he hates his original hair color.

Written: “Would you like to go on a walk with me? The sun is shining so brightly today. It’s the perfect day for a leisurely stroll.”

Basic Info

Name: Elias Miel

Age: 16

Height: 156cm

Birthday: December 20th

Dominant Hand: Left

Dorm: Heartslabyul

Grade: Freshman (1st Year)

Favorite Food: Honey (or anything with honey in it)

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Club: Board Game Club

Hobbies: Baking

Homeland: Queendom of Roses

Twisted from: Heffalumps and Woozles (Winnie the Pooh)

Signature Spell:

Your Sleepy Place…

Gives Elias the ability to manipulate what happens in someone’s dream.

Random Fact!

Elias doesn’t like to talk, so he carries around a notepad everywhere.

[thatbennybee]

OOHHHH can you tell us more about Taffy please???

Sureeee!! It's a bit long, and a bit tragic, so buckle up for a bit of a read!!

Taffy Watersalt - Pop Troll

Age – 21

Parents – Butair Scotch (Male) and Licore Rich (Male)

Occupation – Pop Star / Siren

Personality: Immature. Quite bratty and rude, but who cares when she's so cute? They never remember once she starts singing... 💖

Backstory below

⬇️⬇️⬇️

Childhood

Taffy was a troll that loved to be the apple of everyone's eye. She always required a lot of attention which no troll minded giving her, as she was cute and sweet as pie. She loved to sing and dance and she was damn good at it too! She could always capture the attention of any troll in her vicinity. Some joked that her charm on other trolls was almost magical!

Her fathers had to pay attention to Taffy a lot more than the average troll, as it never seemed like she got tired of it, she just wanted more and more. Not that they minded, they loved her dearly and so did her “Aunt,” Tidal Shores. The best friend to Butair and Licore.

Backstory

Unfortunately, the good times came to a halt one day when Tidal was babysitting Taffy, she was making too much noise with her singing and dancing, and her ability to attract trolls to her, ALSO attracted Bergens. It’s like they couldn’t help themselves even though Trollstice was months away.

Quickly, Tidal realized that she was gathering more than just trolls with her song and they broke through the lock on the cage just to get to her. Tidal tried to get them to safety but the Bergens were faster. She had to do something, she couldn't let her best friends' child get hurt in her care.

Tidal had similar skin coloring to Taffy, and so in a split second decision as onlookers watched, Tidal disguised her hair like Taffy’s, shoved her away as far as she could and took her place as Bergens ripped Tidal apart.

---

This news shattered Taffy and her parents. But her parents were much more distraught, having known Tidal their whole lives; to the point that they turned grey. In the beginning, they tried their best to care for and reassure Taffy that it wasn’t her fault. But as Taffy was now more scared and needing the comfort of her parents, she desired their attention more than ever and would try her best to entertain them with her voice and dancing. It's the only thing she knew how to do to make others happy.

Her parents, now grey and more testy than before, began to resent her because her singing and dancing is what got them into this mess. Taffy doesn’t understand why her parents are ignoring her so much. She’s just trying her best!

She became demanding. Upset that they aren’t paying attention to her. They start to snap at her in public when she whines or cries. She’s only 5. She doesn’t know any better, she just wants to be cherished.

Like they used to. She’s just trying to make them happy again, she doesn’t understand. Her singing makes people smile and they’re happy. How come her dads won’t smile? They just look at her like she did something wrong. Why? WHY?

She’s angry. She throws tantrums, begging for them to listen. To look at her. Tidal would look at her.

“Tidal would still be here if it weren’t for you!”

What? But it’s not her fault. Poppa and Dada said so. Why would they change their minds now? Why are they angry at her? She doesn’t understand. Don’t they love her?

“No. We can’t even stand to look at you. This is all your fault. We hate you!”

What? No. No, that’s not true.

...

Butair & Licore are separated from Taffy. Other trolls fear that something might happen to her if she stays with them any longer. Grey trolls aren’t always predictable. Their emotions are negative, temperamental, they’re ticking time bombs. Pop Trolls don't know how to handle grey trolls. Neither does King Peppy. This was for the best.

Taffy is put into foster care. Taffy bounced from pod to pod growing up in the Pop Troll Tree. They could never give her the amount of love and attention she required. Taffy is trying to stay positive like everyone asks her to. They tell her to sing and be happy. She does. Everyone loves her when she’s cute and dancing. It's hypnotic; they can't look away!

Teen Years

Taffy's voice is only getting better. She’s idolized. The attention she’s always wanted. So easy. She gets through school, always popular, always receives the attention she wants. Who needs to study? Looking cute and batting her eyelashes always works.

She’s the best singer at open mic. She’s getting modeling gigs. She graduates. Top of her class, of course. Teachers loving her singing always helped her get better grades or free passes. She gets scouted and leaves Pop Troll Village. Their adoration isn't enough for her. She needs more love than this small village can offer!

Adulthood & Stardom

She’s the hottest troll singer around. Everyone loves her.

Why is it still not enough?!

Taffy needs to get better. To get more popular. To get more love.

She finds a gem that responds to her voice, it’s SOOOOO pretty! This should be part of her headpiece! It glows beautifully whenever she sings. She feels fulfilled after each show, the gem is absorbing their love… It gives her power over them. No one can be angry at her when she forces them all to love her anyways! This is what she needed. Who the hell needs family now? She can get all the love she wants this way. Nothing is her fault. It’s not her fault she’s loved by all who hear her beautiful voice.

She doesn’t need you, Butair and Licore.

She can do this all by herself. All she needs to do next is to have every soul on earth under her love spell... Then she'll finally be happy, right?

...Right?

[cartoonfanatic]

Why do I keep making ocs. Idk. Too many ideas. No idea why though. -wheeze-

This is Angeles! Shes a pop/classical mix! (i should draw her daddies lol) She works at a bar near the bottom of Mount Rageous. Taffy is both a caretaker and bodyguard for her XD

Taffy owns/runs the bar, its an actual bar but does serve mocktails for the kids who show up. She has open mic night and Angeles always sings there

Why is a Pop/classical working in a bar? Taffy appreciates the different. Tiny Angeles has a hypnotic voice XD