#the best grandma actually

[jinyuexj]

i wanna be her

[shushmal]

okay but a like post-series fic i want that's like: steve harrington being the only man left in hawkins fighting monsters

and not like a 'everyone died, last man standing' way but just. they beat it back, the story ends, nice little tie-up and neatly concluded, eleven loses her powers because their world is completely cut from the other. and life goes on. eddie (yes, eddie lives au don't fight me) goes off with his band, robin-nancy-jargyle off to separate cities for college. the kids go to high school, graduate high school, and scatter across the country. joyce and hop buy a beach house far-far-far away from goddamn hawkins indiana.

steve though. steve stays. he does it too without comment, takes all their calls telling him all these amazing things. the years pass. the calls are fewer and far between. he's mostly in contact with only dustin and robin. except robin's out of country doing some crazy temp job in some remote country, she never catches him at home right now so just leaves him messages. and it takes a couple of weeks for dustin to realize he hasn't gotten steve on the phone.

frantically he calls around "have you heard from steve???" except the most people talk to steve anymore is like phone calls during holidays and holy shit what could have happened??

and what if it's back?

cue everyone who can in that moment, rushing back. eddie hopping on a flight from fucking london direct to indianapolis somehow, heart in his throat. he manages to meet hopper in the airport and they pick up max and dustin at the bus station.

they get to hawkins that is even more different that what they left. a smaller town, a town that shuts down completely when the sun sets. it's creepy and deserted.

except for the fucking upside down monsters of course.

and they're in their stupid little rental in front of this demogorgon and they're screaming but then the thing just goes splat on the concrete and steve fucking harrington is blinking owlishly at them.

"Oh, hey guys!" he calls jogging up to the driver's side window. "Wow, what brought you back down this way? You should have told me, I would have told you about the curfew!"

turns out steve just forgot to pay his phone bill that month, didn't even realize he was missing calls and he's been fighting monsters the entire time because actually they WEREN'T cut off from the upside down at all and he's just been casually fighting monsters for the remaining hawkins residence—the whole town knows now and steve's the guy you call when you have a monster problem

sidebar: WAYNE still lives in hawkins, and he and steve are best friends, eddie munson you are gonna LOSE YOUR MIND

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[zomboivex]

Haha when I am sleep deprived I become funny

Sorry don’t fucking remember where I got the original thing from but I immediately went

This is Them™

Edit*

Thanks to dopamine-withdrawal!

[pan-de-nomena]

sometimes i think about how we dont really see older aged trolls in the franchise and how they probably kept sacrificing themselves to save the young ones from being eaten

[rev-velvet]

All this mf did was have fun with his friends while eating pickled plums and some of yall hated him for it

[starry-beetle]

people who hate Tendou clearly cannot appreciate his greatest charm: he is the cutest big bro in the world

[fiona-fififi]

...

[tev-the-random]

EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU SHELBY RIGHT NOW

[deeva-arud]

Boo!

I'm the paranormal activity on your dash :]

[todayisafridaynight]

Is that character gay? *points at Mine*

Allegedly.

[spawksstuff]

The De Completionist Checklist Part 2/?

1950-1952

Note on the dates: I will mostly be going by when a show/movie was shot (or when De was signed to do it) rather than it's release date.

My score: 4 / 9

Need To Find: Taxi, Danger, Plainsclothesman, Armstrong Circle Theatre - Breakaway, The Web

Favorite Movie: N/A

Favorite TV Show: The Lone Ranger Death in the Forest

Favorite Quotes:

"(Chuckling) Why you healthy old hypochondriac..." (The Lone Ranger)

"Well what do you know, I can't even afford to die!" (Little Theatre)

[jasminesilk]

Getting back into a routine now that they're back from vacation.

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

Nothing happened to trigger this but I’m just so mad at my dad and just … sad about our relationship. It’s really unsatisfying though because it’s basically me having an argument in my head because I never see him. I’m sure he is blissfully unaware I have any issue.

We had made plans to play the new Pokémon snap together the afternoon of grandma’s (his mom’s) funeral. It would be good to spend time together and we played the original Pokémon snap on the N64 when I was a kid. It was going to be good. Then it became “actually I’m going to grab a drink with some friends first.” Ok. They went to a bar that is weird and conservative, but he is oblivious to that sort of stuff and how maybe his two trans kids might not want to join him! (Another example - in 2020 he moved to Florida and continues to think it is paradise). We hung out at my mom’s. 7:40 I finally hear from him asking if we still want to get together and game. Not really … being that you’ve been drinking for the last six hours… that doesn’t sound fun to me and it’s been a long ass day and I’m ready to sleep for a hundred years.

And I’m just thinking more of like… my experience growing up. My parents divorced when I was in 4th grade. He had custody of us every other weekend, and we loved visiting him, but! He didn’t even take us as often as he could have! And so many weekends he would drag us to some weird friends house and have me babysit while they went out. We were always sleeping on some random couch while the adults came back and were super loud and rowdy all night. And as a kid I didn’t question this, it was all I knew. But now I know people who share custody of their kids and they want to spend all the time they possibly can with them! Doing things with friends and their kids, totally fine! Many fun times can be had! but like, you haven’t seen your children in months and you’re going to leave them to go out to a bar with your friends?? Then sleep most of the next day?? Hello??

Last two times he called me - first one was to wish me a happy Chanukah and say he loves me, but he was drunk and repeating himself over and over again. Most recent time he was also drunk and wanted to tell me about how the song “Brass Monkey” came on and “don’t you remember that song??” and he was not coherent enough to actually have a conversation with. I try to frame it as like “that’s so nice he’s thinking of me” but ?? if anyone else only called me when they were incoherently drunk I’d stop answering.

I don’t know man. He’s not a bad person, but I just wish he was a better dad.

[timegears-moved]

tbh i gotta take back what i said before. totk hasn't really done anything to make me care about this version of zel*nk

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

I WON. HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TO ME. SKZFAMILY MY MOST BELOVEDEST. YOU'VE RETURNED TO ME.