#chip taylor edit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ma1dita · 9 days

Text

love me dry

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.5k

summary: (post-TLT) The one where he meets you at his mother’s house, though both of you didn’t expect the other to be there. A glimpse into May Castellan’s perfect day (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: sorry for the hiatus! been on the study grind and didn’t even notice, but i’ve been working on this for a bit! macbeth references (comment if you catch them/or ask and i’ll yap) and slight suggestive stuff under the cut—but anyways let’s just say the prophecy by taylor swift came out at the right time.

(posted 4/19/24, semi-edited)

—

The drive to Westport has become almost an afterthought in these past few years— in the way you unconsciously reach for your favorite hoodie on the way out the door or tuck in your chair before you leave a table, almost automatic but ingrained with a touch of care. With letters to May Castellan occupying your passenger seat instead of the boy who wrote them, you’d make the drive multiple times but stop short just before the property line. It took months of parking at the bottom of the hill and just watching the sun set on the little house, so clearly being able to imagine a smaller version of him running around and wreaking havoc.

Little Luke, with bandaged knees and feet that move as fast as his motor mouth, amber eyes glinting like windchimes in the summer breeze. His mom must’ve watched him play by himself through the bay window before calling him home when the clouds covered the horizon, wispy tendrils stretching over the rain gutter like how lovers hold hands. It must’ve reminded her a lot of his father, leaving nothing but the open air in his wake. Still, all of this was familiar to you too—despite having never stepped foot in the white house.

But knowing Luke meant knowing his home like it was a part of you.

The old hatchback’s engine gently rumbled against the quiet of the property each time you visited, and May would wait for you to come near— waiting for you to be ready to walk into a mausoleum of the boy you both once knew. You were familiar to her too, even as a blurry figure hunched over the steering wheel. She’s seen your face in the small glimpses between the shattering earth of her reality and the hazy foresight she lets herself succumb to remember what her son looks like. In every vision of him since he’s left, you’ve been there; and something about that quells the pain and anguish that it brings to her body when she sees it. But May Castellan is ever an observant woman, gift of prophecy aside. A mother always knows.

It also turns out that she makes excellent conversation over a plate of slightly singed chocolate chip cookies.

—

Luke Castellan is years older than the version of him that last sat at this kitchen table. He doesn’t know if he’s any wiser for it—wondering if he’s made a mistake in coming back here after all this time as he watches his mom hustle around the kitchen that’s suspiciously sparkling clean. A silver spoon clinks against the glass pitcher that May stirs mixed berry Kool-Aid in, his favorite, he remembers, and it makes him squint against the light that filters through the gauzy curtains of the windowpane above the sink. Luke could’ve sworn that there used to be badly patched rips in the fabric, but he attributes it to the dark corner of his memory he still hides away like a secret. Sitting there and taking it all in, he wonders what it would’ve been like to actually grow up here—to stay, for once.

But that’s something he doesn’t have the privilege of knowing. When his mom turns to hand him a glass with her shaking hands, wrinkles and laugh lines are mapped across the expanse of her face. He’ll never know how they got there. The wooden chair creaks under him, groaning under the weight that he carries and Luke once again feels uncomfortable in a place he once called home.

“Knew you’d come back. A mother always knows,” May mutters, voice disembodied like she’s floating just out of reach. Her hands clasped over his, rubbing her thumbs over the veins as if she’s checking his pulse (or the possibility of him being an apparition) and the crack in her smile mirrors his. But this isn’t the home he remembers—his frontal lobe was underdeveloped back then and the only plan it could form was the one to get him the hell out of Westport, there’s something different in the details. Tiny things, like the patio swing chain reattached to its post, a mended table leg, and ceramic tiles on the countertop unbroken and smooth. This is a home and a mother he once longed for as a kid, along with the feeling of comfort and safety you can only attribute to a place like this. Calculating eyes scan the perimeter of the kitchen, but no one knows he’s made the trip to Westport, not even his own crew. Surely nothing could mess this up for him, not here. This was his last step before his quest for redemption eats away at his physical body, and then it will all be out of his hands.

There’s not much left for me here, he thinks— there’s not much of me left here, either.

Then Luke hears you before he sees you—the sound of you humming under your breath mixed with the jingle of keys turning in the front door. With bags of groceries leaving marks on your arms and a soft smile he hasn’t seen you wear in ages, for once you look lighter again. For a moment, the thought crosses his mind that this must be what you look like when he’s not around. Nonetheless, he breathes easier when you’re near. Of course, you’re here, and the irony grips him by the neck almost as if to make it known why his home feels like home again.

“Yeah hon, I’ll have to call you back,” you laugh into your headphones before tapping them with one free finger to end the call. In a split second, your eyes meet. Staggering back at the sight of him sitting at the table and the absolute grin on May’s face, you decide to continue into the space ahead and start putting the groceries away like nothing is out of sorts.

“I see you have a visitor, Miss May. Is he staying long?”

Luke sips at his glass, juice extra tart just how he likes it. His lips pucker at the taste it leaves in his mouth and when he opens his mouth there’s a hint of blue. You try not to look too long.

“For the night,” he answers, even if you weren’t talking to him, but it makes May so vibrant with the notion of him not running again that she instantly hops to her feet and rushes to make the bed in his old room. “I won’t be in your way,” he swallows. You gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame, but move around his chair without touching him—further proving that Luke is, in fact, an obstacle you must overcome. He’s a stranger in his own home and you’ve found yourself at ease in it. You wonder if any of that will make a difference in the long run.

“She’s…”

“More peaceful. I’ve been practicing with my dad, so I do what I can to ease her fits but I’m not exactly equipped to lift a curse from Hades,” you mutter through a bitten lip. Luke stares at you but it feels nostalgic, like someone on the outside looking in. Well, shit. He’s been leading demigods to their deaths every summer and you’ve been trying to cure his mentally ill mother in the time you don’t spend trying to stop him.

“I don’t think I even remember the last time she made sense while talking to me,” he laughs hollowly. You purse your lips and shrug, “I visit her every two weeks. She still has her triggers, and she gets confused but she’s not in pain. Your letters helped.”

“Is that why you came here then?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” you joke feebly. It falls flat and yet he still smiles, even when you say, “They weren’t for me.”

“They were about you. All of them were.”

You know that too. May makes you read them to her before bedtime as you stroke her hair and send her off to Hypnos. You’ve relived your relationship with Luke a million little times, and he’s written about you and all of your yesterdays like it was the only glimpse of Elysium he’d ever reach. In those letters, you get to remember the good parts of being in love—laughing in the empty amphitheater, holding hands under the dining table, sneaking kisses in the strawberry fields.

You used to understand each other so well: every dream, every feeling. But there is nothing you understand about the man sitting across from you now. The both of you sit at the kitchen table and there is nothing more to say.

Luke doesn’t have to stay. While you were at the supermarket, he spent an hour trying to explain to his mother that he needed her blessing to swim in the River Styx. Through nuances and veiled simplicity in the words he weaved to convince her, there wasn’t much opposition in her half-empty, half-prophetic mind. May always knew that Luke loved to swim when she took him to the beach, and that was that.

There was nothing more to say.

—

He knows it’s too good to be true when moments later May’s screams carry through the halls of the little house, down the stairway you’re currently clambering up to reach her. By the time his boots reach the second landing, he finds the two women he loves most in a huddle against the linen closet, his mother’s glowing green eyes and empty groans rattling him to the bone. If he were any smaller, he’d be shaking. Even now he doesn’t know what to do— feet frozen as he watches you brush her curls away from her face and lull her to solace.

“Can’t find Luke’s sheets—he needs the Toy Story ones…” May mutters as she rocks on her heels, “My boy needs to be home…He’s meant to be home!” Her fingernails are cutting into your wrists and then she silences with a wave of your hand.

“He’s home, Miss May. He’s right there,” you whisper. When your eyes look at Luke, you watch him crumble—the cracks in his fortitude tumbling like fallen rocks at the sight of the two of you and then you see him. The boy you met at 14 who was angry at the world for making him run away from his mother and the hands of fate until it crept up to snuff him out for the sake of a prophecy foretold by deities who will never understand what it’s like to be human. But there are no second chances, and there is nowhere left to run. “He’s here for you. I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

“I see it, the two of you together. The worst will be over soon, and then it’ll all make sense,” she says breathily, licking her lips and straightening herself like nothing happened. Even after you send her off to prepare a basket for the beach, Luke doesn’t move when his mother pats his arm and walks around his body and towards the stairs. Neither of you speak until your fingers touch his jaw lightly, and Luke doesn’t know if you’re trying to help him or inspect him. He tilts down to look at you anyway.

“She thinks we’re still together.”

He blinks. Somehow that’s the most shocking thing he’s heard today. Fate is most definitely cruel and fucked up because he never expected it to be like this—once upon a time he hoped he could take you home to meet his mother when everything was said and done; no shackles from Titans or pressure from the gods. It was supposed to be different.

“The letters probably didn’t help as much as you thought they would then,” he mumbles, calloused hands guiding your hands over to his swiftly beating heart. You scoff, “Neither does bringing up my boyfriend. She thinks it’s you.” He’d believe anyone who’d say they watched you yank his heart out of his chest with that statement, everything bloody in your hands. It’s still yours, even if you don’t want it.

“Kit?”

You shake your head and shrug, “That was forever ago. But he treats me well.”

Luke wants to ask more but by the tension in your shoulders, he knows not to push. He’s not entitled to know anything more than what you give him. It’s not his place anymore. So his brow furrows at your next suggestion.

“Just pretend, Luke. For the day, so your mom doesn’t get agitated. I’m not asking for much here.”

It’s a terrible, terrible idea—even you know that. But you both have always been good pretenders. Liars, a voice corrects in the back of your mind. You reason that it’s for May and insist upon that fact, even if the heartbroken girl you left at Camp Half-Blood is raging at you from deep inside the recesses of your mind that you hide her in. What’s one day with him compared to the many you’ve gone without? You don’t need to know the rest of why he’s here, or what more he’s going to do— and you don’t ask.

Not knowing has always hurt less.

—

You’ve forgotten how good Luke is at playing the part of a good boyfriend. He offers to drive to the beach, carries the picnic basket and blanket for you all to sit on, and listens intently when May asks about your college classes. There’s no discomfort in the way he holds your hand as you walk in the sand or dusts your feet off before laying them across his lap. It’s easy to laugh at his bad jokes, it’s easy to act like the boyfriend you describe is anything like him (even if he’s the complete opposite), and it’s too damn easy to fall into the familiar rhythm that is you and Luke. The three of you lay down as the spring breeze covers you from the rest of reality, hiding away from the truth of a broken woman and two ex-lovers. By late afternoon, you find yourself enjoying it, and it’s cruel how the guilt isn’t rolling off you in waves, instead longing for him to follow you anywhere.

He meets you by the shoreline with both of you waist-deep in the water. May’s collecting seashells but she turns to look at you two every so often like she’s framing this memory in her fragile mind. Without saying it out loud, the both of you hope it will hold.

“She always talks about you, you know? Even without trying,” you mutter as saltwater pours from your fingers to the valleys made by the veins in his forearms. It’s like initiating touch without the consequences of actually doing it, and he immerses himself in the feeling as it spills over him, feet rocking against the tide.

“I do too. Can’t help it.”

When the sea ripples once more pushing you against the wall of his body, you end up holding on, and he doesn’t let go. You both smell like salt and sunshine, pressed together and nothing has made more sense. The silence goes on for a beat too long—he whispers, “You still talk about me? Your boyfriend must hate that.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk about you? For anyone to get to know me, they have to know you.”

Your shirt is stuck to your skin in the surf and Luke’s hands brush over the waistline of your underwear, daring to reacquaint himself with your touch and spur a reaction from you. You may be the best actress he’s ever known but anything is better than watching you be complacent with the false niceties of the day.

“There isn’t much worth knowing.”

“I’d never say that, Luke,” jaw tensing, you let out a breath when his hands encircle your hips, hidden in plain sight in the deep of the ocean. He chuckles and the sound tickles your brain to remind you it's the type of laugh he spits out when he’s hiding his anger, “There’s a lot we’re both not saying.” Your name slips past his lips, sneaking past your defenses and hitting you head-on like a bullet.

“Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why are you helping his mother, why aren’t you actively fighting and turning him in, why are you letting him hold you if he’s only going to leave again—there are too many questions and only one clear answer.

“Because it’s out of our hands, isn’t it, Luke? You love your mother but you wouldn’t have come here unless it’s too late. Annie told me you went to see her in San Francisco.”

He was never here to make amends or save face. There was no version of him that was going to ask you to run away with him because he knows you deserve more than always running from fate. He’d do it all over again as long as you got this— the life you’re living with your college degree, your boyfriend, and your happy family— and Luke has no place in that.

A dry laugh bubbles from his throat, sticking like seafoam when he says, “You hate San Francisco.”

You wouldn’t have come.

—

By the time you get home for dinner, your skin is sensitive and tingly from the heat of the sun. May’s tracing circles into the back of your hand as she leads you up the patio steps. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that makes you sway against the doorway.

“Too much time having fun,” she mumbles, patting your cheek, “Take a cold shower dear. Join us when you’re ready?” Luke’s eyes follow you all the way up the stairs and then again, he’s left to his own devices.

Most of the said shower was spent thinking about what your friends would say about you for playing house with the enemy. The guilt felt like ice along your spine, paralyzing you for wanting to be selfish, to choose what makes you happy even if it fucks the rest of the world. But looking in the mirror afterward was scarier—you recognized the girl that stared back at you as someone you thought you’d never see again. A version you left behind years ago, with her head held high and so sure of herself with your Luke by your side.

Surely, there’s no harm in indulging in this vice for the rest of the night. Not when you haven’t felt this relaxed in years.

Dinner is being served by the time you make your way back downstairs. It’s a simple dish you taught Luke how to make back at camp when you raided the kitchens at midnight. Nothing special, reminding you of your own home—but the fact that he remembered makes your smile widen as you take a seat and promise to wash the dishes. Luke chuckles the type that makes his eyes crinkle in mirth once he watches you dig into your meal, knees brushing under the table like old times.

Everything feels easier after that.

“Today was the best day,” his mother mutters as you tuck the covers under her chin. May kisses both of your cheeks before she shuts her eyes and you gently fold the letter she chose tonight back into her nightstand for safekeeping. This time, you read her the story of your first kiss with Luke sitting at the foot of her bed in the dim light of her room. It’s less scary here than he remembers, but maybe it’s because this time there’s no screaming and him running to hide in the closet. Your voice is much more pleasant than those suppressed memories, immersing you all in a more pleasant one— the both of you in the amphitheater kissing on the stage with his hands in your belt loops. Luke could recite every word on that page if it meant he could go back in time, not with Backbiter but with you, just to live through that moment again. I think I’m falling in love with her, is how the letter ended but by then he already knew. Writing it down to tell his mother always made it real.

This, you, right here—everything is real.

He’s silent even as he watches you smoke through the cracked window of his childhood bedroom, and you’re surprised when he steals a puff. His hands are shaking under the moonlight and suddenly it’s clear that he’s scared. Everyone feels fear, but in all the years that you’ve known him, Luke Castellan has never let you see it.

“Those things will kill you one day,” you mumble, watching him lean against the windowpane. It’s what he used to always tell you so that you’d quit, but old habits die screaming. It’s another vice you refuse to let go of.

“Wanted to try something new before I…” his voice drops off.

Lose myself.

Lose you.

Luke coughs as the smoke enters his lungs, a momentary rush hitting him brought by the nicotine. Your hands go to cup his jaw as you set your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to just be honest if there’s truly nothing left to lose.

“I’m out of time, trouble. It’s out of my hands.”

Shuddering at the feeling of him tracing every ridge of your spine, you think the way he says your nickname sounds like the way he used to say I love you. It’s raining outside now, the harsh pitter-patter of wet drops drowning out the sound of your voice, “What can I do? Is there anything left for me to do?” When his head shakes, your noses brush, and your breaths intermingle, almost magnetic. Perhaps the rain is getting in from the open window and you feel it hitting your cheek until you see the shine of his eyes.

“You think I did this because of you. I know you do, but you need to know I did all of this for you, trouble. I choose you and me. Every time,” Luke gasps, intertwining his fingers with yours, the both of you pushing and pulling in this embrace like the moon with the tide.

“Luke…”

You’re pressing yourself against him, face hidden in his shirt as your brain catches up to your heart, hasty breaths and every atom of your being screaming to be held together by him and then you’re on him, through tears and clenched fists tumbling towards the tiny twin bed. The only way he likens himself to his father is his yearning to be a true traveler, but what he knows best out of anything in this entire world is you. He knew this body once too— every birthmark, scar, and dimple. Who else has had the privilege to navigate the ridges of your spine, to know the pressure of your kiss? A tattoo peeks out to say hello at your hip bone. There are new stories and new marks, there are parts of you unknown to him now. Luke thinks that must be what hurts most about each time he leaves you.

But then why does this feel so good?

Warm palms caress your waist, nudging your shirt up in the hopes that this will be enough compensation for all his misdoings—the tears you’ve cried, the anger you’ve felt, the things you had to do and will have to do because of him. Luke is someone who’s gotten comfortable with manipulating time, but time has manipulated him and all of his plans for the both of you. Sleepy setback bedroom eyes meet his own that glow in the gentle light of the lamp on the nightstand. Maybe if you pretend again his childhood bedroom can turn into the star-speckled darkness of cabin 12. You can just lay down and tuck underneath his arms waiting for him to fall asleep. But he stays up this time, making you hiss at the feeling of his lips against your neck.

“We can’t… Angelface,” you say breathily, still leaning into the trail he marks across the valley of your collarbone, “We’re not together anymore.”

A kiss is placed on your pulsepoint, knocking against the cord of your necklace.

“We shouldn’t… I have a boyfriend.”

Another kiss rests against the warmth of your forehead.

“We’re on opposite sides of a war… You’re my enemy.”

Finally, his lips meet yours, for a moment as if to test the waters.

“Not tonight,” he says, and there is no other option but to agree. There is a lifetime to make up for in a night, and fuck it—they’ll crucify you anyway. You were never meant to be a hero, that’s what he always wanted. You just wanted him. Your head hits the pillow and he looms over you until you’re pulling him in for more than what’s necessary to accept an apology.

There’s nothing left to lose.

—

Before your mind can wake up dreading the consequences of last night, your socked feet take you to the kitchen to clean up the mess you’ve both left behind. The old floorboards creak underfoot and there’s a method in the way you’re washing the dishes, hot water and soap starting to seep through your shirt sleeve but you choose not to notice. Scrubbing at the dirt and grime left behind on the porcelain until your fingers start to prune, a lump forms in your throat before you can stop it. Maybe if you scrub hard enough at the glass that Luke drank out of last night it can eventually be clean. But it’s taking you longer than you thought, jaw tensing and fingers turning white at how hard you’re holding on. May appears behind you, guiding your hands away from the scalding water, and though you resist— the glass drops into the sink and shatters with a loud crack.

“Damn spot wouldn’t get out,” you sniff, turning away to look out the window and think of anything but him, but he’s everywhere even when he’s not here, so much so that it suffocates you. Guilt lines every shaking breath you take until lavender eyes meet amber at the sensation of her clasping your red and raw palms with a dishtowel.

You see him in her too.

“His fate is greater than the cards he’s been dealt with. You know that.”

It’s the clearest and most sensible May’s spoken in days. Perhaps when it comes to Luke, she’ll always know better. Eyes darting elsewhere to fight the tears that brim at your lash line, you look down at your swollen hands, palm up towards the heavens almost imploring, “Why couldn’t it be me?”

The question’s direction is unclear and you don’t expect to get an answer, turning away to grab some ice from the freezer and she remains standing there—staring at the windowsill at a compass that’s now found its home next to the faded picture of a man who’s left more times than there are reasons to stay. Just like his father, she thinks, a small smile quirking at the side of her lip where a scar would meet her son’s. Clicking it open delicately like how she used to hold his hand, there’s a photo of you and Luke resting against the cover ripped away from a memory frozen in time.

“It is you,” May says quietly, though you’ve already left the room.

A mother always knows, after all.

—

“Aphrodite,” I pleaded to the moon-drenched night sky. “Tell me; if love is meant to heal, then why does it destroy those who choose it?” From somewhere beyond the clouds, I heard the Goddess laugh. And I knew. -Nikita Gill

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan fanfic #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians

390 notes · View notes

duckindndads · 7 months

Text

Teen headcannons (Appearance edition)

Heights (tallest to shortest): Linc, Hermie, Scary, Normal, Taylor, Dood

Scary has a tooth gap, she rarely smiles with her teeth cause she’s insecure about it

Taylor is skin and bones, but doesn’t look it cause he wears clothes that are not only too big for him but with so many pocket full of so many trinkets

Linc was shorter than Normal their whole lives until just recently (he’s only recently hit the growth spurt)

Normal’s hair is very fluffy and curly- when it is clean- Unfortunately a lot of the time it’s weighed down and hardly has a wave because of the grease

Hermie has very long legs and a short torso, so all his blazers seem long on him while all his pants seem too short

Scary is always in a bug jacket, because she misses wearing her team hoodies (it’s not the same)

Dood always has an odd number of eyes, they’re almost never in the same place for more than a couple hours

Taylor has a snagle tooth because he chipped one of his canines when practicing his sword skills when he was younger

Scary has dyed her hair since middle school, she used to have very colorful hair until Terry Jr. (she still has a streak of color because she misses it)

Linc’s legs are covered in various bruises from his “no hands” days

Hermie’s eyes are a very peculiar blue, they look purple in the correct lighting

Normal has consistent acne and picks at it, his face is covered in polka dotted scars he referred to as freckles

Dood is hard to look at for long periods of time because of the static that surrounds their form, on the bright side it makes hugs extra fuzzy feeling

No one has ever seen Linc in actual pants, it’s always shorts (even in the titanic)

Scary writes potential song lyrics on her arms and legs, sometimes you can find doodles there too

Taylor’s hair floofs out from his hat, even when he isn’t wearing the hat- it’s just natural at this point

Normal has painted nails, the color changes every couple of days (he used to do this with his sister when they were younger)

Even before the joker role Hermie’s makeup game was constantly on point and dramatic

Dood is wearing an old doodlers hoodie that’s way to big for them the arms almost drag on the floor (it makes them look very small)

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndaddies #dndads s2 #scary marlowe #normal oak #the doodler #dood #taylor swift dndads #taylor swift (not that one)#hermie the unworthy #lincoln li wilson

74 notes · View notes

echantedtoon · 1 month

Text

Until Death Do You Vow Ch2 A Saving Plan

(EDIT: None of the things in the beginning of this chapter is cannon to The Groom of Gallagher Mansion. It's just made up for the story for Y/n's college scenes.

Warnings for mentioned murder, death, and illness.)

"Class, turn to page one hundred and thirty two. Today we'll be reviewing the foundation of our town and the roll it had in the battle of-"

The sounds of many pages turning in the large room as at least fifty students turned to the appropriate places in their textbooks. Others took out note books lined with lots of notes from previous lessons with room for future ones. Pencils and erasers at the ready for the task ahead of taking down important information. Highlighters in bright yellow ready to highlight any very important details hidden in the professor's speeches. Lights dim as the first slides showed in time with the words the professor spoke.

"Now this here is General Markus G. Tuttle. He was one of the founding fathers of our city and first established it with five other men back in sixteen hundreds under the orders of the current reigning monarch of the time."

The current slide showed up a picture of an old painting taken at the city's local museum. It's old pain chipping away but still held together enough to show the picture of a man in his late fifties in a war uniform. The professor looked up at the slide before adjusting his glasses and looking back at the younger crowd.

"Who here can tell me who the reigning monarchs were?" Murmurs and coughs were circulated around until one hand raised up in the very back row. He pointed at it after a moment of straining his eyes to see around the dimly lit room. "Yes. You, Y/n!"

"The reigning monarchy during that time was lead by King Cedric Roland Jackson Snider the Forth and his wife Queen Stacia Emily Snider." Your hand slowly lowered after your answer and the professor nodded in approval.

"Excellent! Yes! Both King and Queen during that time funded their exhibition out to the area where our town would first be established. Who can tell me what the original purpose of the exhibition was?" Again unsure looks were given around until once more your hand raised in answer. "Miss Y/n?"

"The original exhibition was to survey the area and establish a trading route halfway through the path leading to the next country, but the fertile grounds and booming wildlife changed their minds into establishing a large farming and hunting community instead."

"Right you are! Yes! The booming wildlife untouched by most of mankind is what drew them to that idea when first coming to the area! After discovering most of the untouched riches that lay within the surrounding forests and the nutrients in the ground, General Markus Tuttle had it in his mind to return and convince the reigning monarchy into establishing a community and improving the agriculture of the country's economy. Now who can tell me the original name of the town?" You waited to see if someone else would raise their hand and someone else did. A boy in the very front row. "Yes, Charlie!"

You didn't bother interrupting and only listened to the professor continue his lesson and turn to the next slide which was a picture of some old relics from the same time as the founding of the town. You busied yourself by writing down words in the notebook you always took with you during these classes. The words forever being inscribed upon the surface of the paper with ink- Something poked your arm making you pause.

"Psst. Hey, Bud. I gotta tell you something."

Tired f/c eyes deadpanned looked at the mitchmatched eyes of the man sitting next to you blinking behind glasses. A head of red hair met you as he again poked your upper arm.

"What, Taylor?," you whisper hissed back to him voice low to avoid drawing attention. "I'm trying to take notes here. You should be taking notes too! You have no idea if this'll be on the finals!"

Taylor, your best friend and dorm buddy, didn't seemed phased by your words in the slightest and only whispered back. "We need to talk about the OHSIC. It's important!"

"We're having a meeting anyways tonight. You can wait until then."

"WHAT?! BUT THAT'S STILL HOURS AWAY-"

"Mr. Potts." The professor gave a look of silent disapproval as the lesson paused. A good few heads also turned to stare at the seemingly frozen red head next to you suddenly in the spotlight. "Is there something so important that you have to disrupt my lesson? If so please share it with the class."

In an instant Taylor's face went an embarrassed red and he shook his head no. "N-NO! I was just-...Uh. A-Asking to borrow a pencil! Yeah!"

The professor narrowed his heads. "Well then next time ask quietly or better. Next time actually come prepared and not disrupt the class. Now then. " He turned back to the board. "As I was saying, most of the earliest population consisted of farmers and their families and their farm hands and their families. However there was a couple dozen larger plantations usually owned by the wealthier families of the time. One of the most famous ones being-"

Taylor gave a sigh of relief as the faces of their classmates turned away from them and focused back onto the lesson the professor was giving.

"I told you. Just wait until all our classes are finished and we'll talk at the weekly meeting. Ok?" You looked back to the notebook after giving Taylor a quick reassuring pat on the hand.

His cheeks turned back to the faint color of pink before he pulled his hands back and looked away. "F-Fine. But don't take too long."

You only smiled at his pouty tone. You were used to it by now though. It's just how Taylor was ever since you both met two years ago in your first year of college. You both just happened to be taking the same classes as each other two of them being Local History and Folklore Studies, also known as Folkloristics. It was the study of all aspects of culture, particularly material culture or the products of a society. Or in other words local folklore, myths, and legends. And in this city there was certainly quite a lot. You weren't sure why but you were always fascinated by the paranormal and fantasy sides of things. You supposed that's what drew you both together as friends. Granted Taylor was WAY more into the cryptozoology parts than you were but it was still a thing you two could bond over. Local History and Folklore Studies were the best ways to find out about any spooky happenings that were around the city and a way for you to study for that job you wanted. You were hoping to get a job ast the local museum and become a writer on the side. What better way to achieve both your passions? Which was also why you took the Language Art classes the University offered.

But you weren't expecting to make a friend in Taylor but it was easier when you both realized you had a lot in common and you saw each other so often. Taylor may have been eccentric, quote 'nerdy', and over passionate about everything he was passionate about but he was honestly one of the easiest guys to talk to you've met.

Other than Ia-.....

Anyways- It was sorta hard not to be friends with him and hang out with him especially when you both stayed in the same dorm building on campus. It was halfway through the first year of college that he made his club and by the second year you agreed to joining after he practically begged you to. It was a pleasant distraction after all you've been through, and you could rely on Taylor to at least be there for you. Even if he could be a lot, he was a good friend you could count on.

The rest of the classes were spent on collecting notes as usual with each one but you noticed that Taylor seemed more anxious and impatient about something the more time had passed. Guess whatever it was was eating at him a lot. So when you're last class ended for the day and you gathered your things, it shouldn't have surprised you when Taylor grabbed your arm practically dragging you behind him pushing past people and giving you both dirty looks as he pushed through the crowds.

"Taylor! What the heck?! You dug in your heels and yanked your hand from his with a frown. "What are you trying to do? Pull my arm outta socket?"

"Y/n, class is over! You gotta-"

"Stop by my dorm room and put my books away!" You frowned. "Not to mention I left the notes for the next meeting on my desk."

"That can wait! We gotta talk NOW!! It's a matter of life and death for the club!"

Your brow rose. "I doubt that but fine. I'm gonna go put my stuff away and grab the notes. Just go and I'll meet you at the library as usual." You turned away and began walking.

"I- You- BUT- ...RRRRRR!!" He gripped his head before stomping off making you roll your eyes at his antics.

Always so dramatic about things. You were sure whatever it was it wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be-

"THEY'RE GONNA SHUT DOWN THE OHSIC!!!"

Ok. Maybe you were mistaken.

You had just arrived with the small notebook you set aside just for OHSIC meetings and you were just expecting to go over your failed attempt to pull in more members by handing out homemade flyers and go over more ways to get members when Taylor grabbed you by the shoulders when you first stepped foot in the University library. His panicked voice echoed in your face.

...You blinked. "What?"

"The Union Chairman said he's going to take away all the funding and space for the club because we haven't been retaining members!" Hr finally let go of you and began to pace as you blinked shaking your head. "'The space is being utterly wasted on us'. Can you believe that stupid pig faced jerk?!"

"Taylor, keep it down. We're in the library. Do you want us to get kicked out of here too?"

Your frown seemed to cut through his rambles because he sighed and rubbed his face. "No. Sorry I guess. B-But we gotta do something!"

"Ok. Time out!" You held up your hands in a 'T' shape making Taylor once again as a hand pointed at him. "Back up to the beginning. What's going on?"

Taylor blinked before groaning which turned into a sigh. "This morning. I-I got called into a meeting with the Union Chairman." He motioned his hands around with a scowl. "He basically said he's going to shut down the club if we don't get members soon and FAST!"

Your face contorted into one of shock . Well you couldn't say you were too surprised by the outcome. The club has had trouble retaining membership for a while now with the only consistent members being Taylor who was the founder and you being the vice president of only because you were the only other member who showed up. Mostly only because it was a good distraction for what happened two years ago (even if you had gotten over it by now) and because you felt bad for Taylor putting in so much work into the club.

"Really? I wasn't expecting it to happen this soon. I thought they would've waited at least until this Christmas break before deciding to drop funding."

"You knew this would happen?!"

"Not so soon but eventually. The club's been in in hot water for a while now Taylor."

He growled again running his hands over his face and messy red locks screwing up his glasses. "They said they wanted to use our space for the JUGGLING CLUB!! THE JUGGLING CLUB!! Can you believe that?!"

You rose a brow at Taylor's logic. By his logic clowns juggle things. Clown are scary and evil. Therefore by default the juggling club was scary and evil. Maybe that's what had gotten to him the most and made him so angry? Either way you just shook your head and sighed.

"Well the whole point of today's meeting was to figure out new ways to get new members anyways." You lightly waved the notebook in your hands. "So do you want to start the meeting now and see if we can figure something out?"

He lit up fixing his glasses and turning. "Right then! Vice prez, let's get brainstorming!" You rolled your eyes and followed Taylor to a hidden table in the back between a few shelves where he sat down. "Alright! Roll call! Say here if you're present!"

"Taylor, we're the only ones here. *sigh* But here."

"Here! All members of the OSHIC are accounted for. As club president I dub this meeting started! Now that's out of the way, it's time to get down to business!" He pointed at you . "We need to start finding new members to save the club fast! Any ideas?"

"Not a single one." You dropped the notebook on the table and gestured to it. "We've tried everything and nothing's worked. At least nothing long term. I've written it all down here and we've been through it over and over again."

He groaned slumping over to press his face against the table. "Great. This is just what we wanted today....What if we put an ad on the University's web page?"

"We tried that. Ten times in the last two years." Taylor groaned muffled by the table again. "What if we do a ghost story contest? Maybe that might attract a few people from the writing classes."

"Not a bad idea but what would we use as a prize? Between us both we both got like twenty bucks to spare and I don't think hand me down furniture and broke college kid ramen is a very enticing prize."

It was your turn to sigh. He was right about that part. "It's too bad we don't just have something cool like a magic wand like Cinderella's fairy godmother or something really cool like some alien tech. We'd be getting hundreds of members and some money offers too. But that only happens in movies."

"Yeah...Hey. Wait a sec." Taylor's head lifted up from the wooden table as his eyes widened, glasses crooked. "That's it!" You jumped as he suddenly leaned back up smacking his hands onto the table. "That is it!"

"Uh...What is?"

"Most of the people leave the club because it's not enticing enough or they get bored, but if we can actually get some actual proof that the paranormal exists then that'll make more people more interested!"

Your brows rose again. "Uh huh. And how exactly are we supposed to do that? We haven't actually been able to get anything besides some muffled audio recordings from the ghost investigations you had us do. And even that won't be convincing to most people."

Taylor laughed awkwardly looking away nervously. "Ahaha. Rrriiiight. *Ahem* Anyways-" he quickly changed the subject. "This town's huge! There's gotta be at least ONE paranormal hotspot that we can take advantage of! All we gotta do is find one and get some proof and BINGO!! CLUB'S SAVED!!"

"That's your plan?"

He placed one hand on his hip frowning. "You got any better ideas?"

"Touche. But how are we going to get proof? It's not like we can just waltz into the woods and ask Bigfoot and the forest elves to pose for us."

Despite chuckling at your words Taylor spoke with a serious voice. "We'll just have to do a little research! And lucky for us we're in the best sort of lace for studying!" He gestured to the walls around him as if to answer his own words. "C'mon! There's not a moment to lose! I'll check out the computers and see if there's anything interesting we missed! You scan the shelves!"

Your face deadpanned as he was already standing up to make his way to the nearest computer. Of course you'd get the harder job. You sighed and with a roll of your eyes you stood up to go browse the shelves. By now you already knew where most of ghost stories and haunted history books were so it was so easy to walk over towards the shelf and pulled out the first book that might be useful in your search titled 'Real Hauntings and Unsolved Murders'. Cue ten minutes later of you flipping through the pages as Taylor was... somewhere around here also assumedly researching.

"... Hey! There's a bus station where someone was murdered twenty years ago. They say his face was pale and looked like he saw the devil himself before he died." You called out looking up at the rows of shelves. "You wanna try and have a seance there? Maybe we can conjure something up."

There was a moment before Taylor leaned back in his chair to poke his head out three shelves down from you. His nose crinkled as he shook his head. "Nah. It'd be weird if we just lit candles up and used a ouija board at a public bus stop. Someone might even call the police and get us in trouble. Besides it's too noisy and crowded there. Even if we did get anything it'd be hard to make out from the noise mess." His head disappeared and you sighed.

Unfortunately he did have another good point. Back to the books. You skimmed through the rest of the book which was mostly uninteresting old murders and legendary ghost stories from around the world which weren't helpful to you. So you placed it back and picked up another book titled 'Cryptids of The Century.' You flipped through the first chapter talking about the author and her experiences before skimming the stories told.

"..Taylor!"

"Yeah?," his voice called back to you.

"You remember that old pond that used to be by the park?"

"Yeah?"

"They say a siren lives there. You wanna try and see if we can get anything from there?"

Another small pause. "Didn't they drain the pond and fill it in to expand the park's playground on top of it?"

You wanted to smack your face. Instead you sighed. "Right. I forgot about that. I'll keep looking. Any luck on your end?"

"No dice," he called back, "I've been scanning through every search pop up in our area but most of it are things we already checked out, proven to be fake, or don't have enough backing to be worth the effort. UGH! I didn't think finding at least one good haunting experience would be this hard!"

"Keep looking, Taylor. I'm sure we'll find something." You looked back to the book. "Even if we gotta dig through the boring haunts, we'll find something to use."

There was more silence as you flipped through a few pages talking about an alleged unicorn sighting from over a hundred years ago when Taylor hummed again loudly in thought.

"Boring haunts. Hey. I think you might have something there!" You looked up from the book but didn't see him. "It just crossed my mind!"

"What did?"

The sounds of a chair scraping could be heard before Taylor appeared standing up and smiling excitedly. "Something we've never done before!" Your face looked even more confused so he continued to explain excitedly holding up his hands. "Okay, okay. Here's the plan! You know that old house way out there on the corner of town? That old Gallagher place where all those deaths and murders happened ages ago?"

You paused for a long moment before you understand what he was talking about. "Wait. You mean the old Gallagher Mansion?"

He nodded excitedly with a bright smile. "Don't you see? We've never checked it out! We all thought it was too boring. Too bland. Too.. vanilla. But no! Maybe we made a mistake trying to find new things when we've left the biggest stone in town unturned!"

You hummed again at his words before staring down at the book you still held in deep thought. That... wasn't a too bad of an idea. You both really hadn't been there before as everyone knew it's reputation quite well around here. It's a hot spot for college dorks to drink and hope no one notice, an occasional haunted house for paranormal investigators, and home to a few basic ghost stories a lot of the older locals take pride in. Heritage and horror in one neat package. Other times it was an attraction for the tourists' haunted tours during Halloween but mostly it was just one of the older abandoned houses around here. There was a few but most were in the woods where the forest drew over the abandoned parts of the earlier town.

"That's an idea I'll give ya that." The book closed before you pointed at him. "But there's been TONS of investigations done there and no one's really proven anything's there. Plus people use that old place for parties all the time and no one's really came back with ghost encounters. Even if they did, it just could've easily been a hallucination from the booze they always have at those parties."

"I know but isn't it worth at least one shot?" He countered back. "We've never even tried to see the place before and who knows. Maybe the ghosts never revealed themselves to anyone partying because they don't like it. Would you want to talk to a whole bunch of drunk college jocks if you were a ghost?"

"Probably not. But I guess that's a fair enough point. There's no harm by looking at it I guess."

Taylor happily lit up with a wide grin and held up a hand. "Right then! Vice Prez, tonight we're hitting the books! Research like your life depends on it!"

You sighed placing your book back on the shelf. It'd be a long night you could see. "You're lucky you're my friend. Go look up the mansion on the computer, I think I already know the book I need."

"Right! This will be what saves the club! I just know it!"

You rolled your eyes as Taylor disappeared again and went to pull out the book you needed. A book titled 'Unusual Murders and Mysteries.' You remembered there was two whole big chapters dedicated to the Gallagher Mansion when you skimmed through it once trying to research good ghost hunting spots for the club. You opened it up and turned the pages until they got to the parts you needed. Stopping and carefully beginning to read the words written there. Meanwhile Taylor typed away at the keyboard quickly. You just turned the first page when Taylor shouted again.

"Eureka! I found them!" Taylor's shout caught your attention enough to walk over and peep around the shelf at his smiling face. He smiled at you before looking back to the bright screen where a web page was open to a black and white old photo of a grand mansion and the article under it. "According to this...The Gallaghers were a well off military family from Europe who came to America in the mid eighteen hundreds." He scrolled down more giving you the summery of the large article before stopping on another article next to two old black and white photos of an older couple. "Archibald Gallagher, the family patriarch, found success as a cornmeal Barron. He married a woman named Mildred and together they had a total of.." He paused again to scroll down more until he stopped on a bigger black and white photo. It was the older couple again and seven younger men and women whom looked about your's and Taylor's age. "Seven children."

"Wow. Quite the large family." You commented looking at the large family portrait.

Taylor shrugged. "It was normal during those days to have large families. But all of the Gallaghers were quite exceptional except for-"

"Elias right? That's the ghost that's rumored to haunt the mansion."

Taylor nodded. "He would be.." His eyes squinted at the old family Portrait before pointing out one person that stood behind who you assumed to be one of his sisters sitting in a chair and between two tall men who must've been his brothers. You could barely make him out from the crowded photo. "That one there. Elias was born the black sheep of his family. All of his other other siblings were born healthy and strong, but Elias's birth came with a lot of complications."

"He was bedridden for most of his childhood right?"

Again Taylor nodded. "Pretty much the epitome of the sickly Victorian child trope."

You frowned. "I don't think it should be talked about like that."

He shrugged before moving onto the next paragraph of the article. "They all died under mysterious circumstances other than Elias who's death was arguably the most normal out of all the family deaths if you can count murder normal."

"How though?"

"Well a lot of rumors say it's cuz of a curse, but nobody can agree why they were cursed to begin with. The eldest died in a freak accident involving a horse and from there it's a chain reaction of freak accidents in short susession, completely unrelated to the previous deaths but without fail it would kill the next eldest child like a couple of dominoes hitting them in some pretty gruesome ways." Taylor looked almost pitiful at the dates of deaths and the causes of the deaths listed next to the names of each Gallagher family member.

"That's got to be so hard on the family dealing with so much tragedy."

"I don't think Archibald and Mildred were too happy to write Elias down as their sole heir after his brothers and sisters all passed on but somehow he managed to dodge the curse. At least until his own death when he was murdered but he still managed to outlive his parents too." He squinted at more of the deaths listed in the article. "Also not too long after rewriting the will both of them died during a bridge collapse on what was supposed to be a calm carriage ride. Same energy as scented candles setting fire to your apartment."

"That part about him surviving for so long is a big strange." You hummed. "Why would the curse skip the youngest sibling and go after his parents only to then come back for him?"

"There was and still is speculation about Elias spinning elaborate murder schemes to take down his family but here's the thing." Taylor rubbed his chin in thought. "Elias had few people to write too and even fewer people who'd write back. According to this, Elias became a permanent shut in after becoming head of the entire Gallagher Estate. I'd probably do that too if it was me."

You nodded in agreement. "Who wouldn't after something like that happened to you? But..Elias was killed himself wasn't he?"

"Yep! Murdered."

"By who?"

"That would be.." Taylor scrolled down more. "Gerald and Violet Dupont. According to this, Gerald Dupont was the Gallagher's groundskeeper and after the death of the rest of his family he introduced Elias to his sister, Violet Dupont, as a fellow heiress without a partner. You can guess what happened after that."

"The whole courting thing, proposing, and a romantic fairytale wedding right?'

He waved a hand. "Everything but the wedding part. According to these old newspaper clippings-" He again gestured to the screen. "Elias died the night before his wedding ceremony while the Duoonts were caught red handed tearing the mansion apart looking for the family's fortune."

"Wait. I know this part." Taylor looked up at you as you flipped through the still open book in your hands. "He was found with his head decapitated from his body using an axe and the Duponts were arrested on charges of murder. Without anyone else to claim the property it was soon abandoned after Elias's burial."

"What a way to go huh?"

You nodded. "And selfish. To murder just to steal a poor man's family legacy. They must've taken advantage of his own grief."

Taylor nodded before looking back at the screens. "Which is why besides ghost hunting, we'll also see if we can find out where the fortune is. Treasure hunting isn't our primary goal but it's still worth looking out for."

You nodded. "Good idea. Even if we don't find any ghosts, finding a legendary fortune would also make us famous but are you sure there's even any treasure? I mean wouldn't someone have found it by now?"

"All these old newspaper clippings keep mentioning how big the inheritance was but some assets were never accounted for in the banks. Rumor has it that the Gallaghers kept some of it hidden on the estate."

"Alright but those are just rumors. That doesn't really mean there's a treasure and that doesn't necessarily mean there's a ghost either."

Taylor hummed. "Maybe but we have to try."

"That's another thing." The book closed with a thud and pointed at him. "If no one's ever seen the ghost, or at least recently-" The rumors had to have started from somewhere. So there might've been a ghost at one point or a long time ago someone THOUGHT they saw the ghost of Elias Gallagher. "-how are we going to get him to show up for us? No other investigation has ever been successful and no one else has claimed to see him."

Taylor legitimately looked shocked at the revelation before again he hummed and a hand rubbed his chin. "That's... Actually a fair point. Even if he's there he might just want to be left alone and not talk to anyone."

"So there's no way we could get him to talk even if he supposedly was there? Great. That's another dead end." You turned to leave but stopped when Taylor's hand grabbed yours.

"Wait a sec. ... Maybe it's not WHY. Maybe it's a matter of how and when!" He turned to you as you blinked confused. "Think. Why would Elias want to talk to anyone? Drunk people party in his home and investigators usually come demanding he show himself. So maybe it's just how we go about trying to communicate with him, and when. And it just so happens that this week happens to be one of the best days to do a ghost hunt! What's the last day of this week?"

"Um...Friday?"

"Friday THE THIRTEENTH!," Taylor corrected you with a bright smile. "Paranormal activity increases more on Friday the Thirteenth more than any other day of the year except for Halloween! And not only that! This Friday the Thirteenth is supposed to be a blood moon! Which also increases paranormal activity. And on top of BOTH of those it's also gonna be a FULL MOON too! How lucky can we get? The moon being in its fullest cycle is said to increase in power. This is like the best combination possible!"

You blinked at him before slowly nodding. "Ok. That's all really good conditions. But even with all of that and even if we ask him really nicely, all that stuff still doesn't guarantee anything. If that was true then that crew who did the investigation on All Hallows Eve, which is arguably more powerful than Friday the Thirteenth, would've gotten something."

Again Taylor hummed in thought looking you over, then back to the computer screen, then back to you gears whirling in his head. Before he smiled very widely and in a way you didn't like. "Oh I think I have an idea. Get ready, Bud! We're gonna investigate the old dump! I just know there's something we can find in there. It's our last hope!"

#Until Death Do You Vow #the groom of gallagher mansion #thegroomofgallaghermansion #taylor potts x reader #taylor potts #elias gallagher #elias gallagher x reader #tgogm

27 notes · View notes

tokuvivor · 5 months

Text

Okay, so I guess it’s my turn to provide some Movie Night highlights. So let’s get the ball rolling…

On Ice

Super early Donald design (a la The Wise Little Hen)

Donald being a dick

Give Pluto a break

Donald fanservice

“Use the perfect cast!”

Last Christmas!

Launchpad and the lights

Webby’s decorating skills

Christmas being a sore subject for Scrooge (I’m not a Scranta guy but go off y’all)

“Bah humbug!” “He said it!”

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Jiminy Cricket as Past

Present sounding like Patrick Star (Bill Fagerbakke voiced him)

The ghosts confusing Ebenezer Scrooge and Scrooge McDuck

“Young me.” “Old me.”

Bradford hate train

Beakley with the moves (and being into Future)

Scroldie moment

Scrooge vs. Past

The moment we’ve all been waiting for…

“Some weird emo kid?”

RIP Russi Taylor

Bluey (eh?)

A case of the munchies

DELLA DELLA DELLA

Donald’s apology

Wendigo fight!

Destruction of Donald’s guitar (and baby Donald rage)

Donald and Della knew!

Scrooge to the rescue!

Scrooge/entities of Christmas

“Welcome back!”

Launchpad being Jewish

Launchpad’s song (and everyone just goes along with it)

Della cameo at the end

The end credits *sob*

Intermission (Fasting Contest)

Last contest video with Ben Schwartz *sob x2*

“Can’t eat a goddamn raisin?!”

Random song parodies (Weird Al vibes)

“They call it vehicular manslaughter.”

Ducks and bread

Mickey’s Magical Christmas: Snowed in at the House of Mouse (feat. Mickey’s Christmas Carol)

Alllll the cameos

Donald acting like Scrooge

Triplet time!

Donald and ice skating, Part 2

Ludwig Von Drake appearance!

Walt Disney himself as Mickey (wait, no, Clarence Nash (aka the original Donald))

Chip ‘n’ Dale hate train

Brief discussion of the Winnie-the-Pooh universe

The Nutcracker (more Von Drake!)

Narrator vs. Von Drake

More Donald fanservice

Surprise Goofy appearance!

Narrator vs. all Ducks really

Mickey’s Christmas Carol vs. The Muppet Christmas Carol (Edit: started by @real-life-pine-tree)

Scrooge being a hater

Nightgown stylin’

Why is Daisy Scrooge’s love interest? (Seriously, Disney, Goldie’s right fuckin’ there)

Scrooge the Englishman

Tiny Tim

Shit goes down when Present leaves

RIP Tiny Tim

Scrooge going to hell

Pete hate train makes its grand return

Scrooge changes his tune

“Has he lost it?”, townsfolk say

Random Movie Trivia, courtesy of @writebackatya

“Toys ain’t gonna keep Tiny Tim from dying.” “But a raise and his father’s promotion will.”

Sweet song at the end

Heroes and villains getting along

Hopefully this is sufficient! (If it’s not, feel free to add shit!)

#ducktales #ducktales fandom #duck tumblr #duckblr #duckblr movie night #on ice #last christmas!#fasting contest #ben schwartz #amir blumenfeld #mickey’s magical christmas: snowed in at the house of mouse #mickey’s christmas carol

23 notes · View notes

weirdmefrom13 · 1 year

Text

the teens as birds in shoes!

Lincoln Li-Wilson: A great blue heron as they're very tall, found in California, adaptable, and they're pretty shy despite their size. They're also pretty quiet AND like to dance. They're monogamous and very family-oriented like a certain paladin! I gave the bird soccer cleats (or at least tried to), cause my man loves soccer.

Scary Marlowe: A Stellers Jay as they look metal as hell, are smart and resourceful due to their corvid status, found in California, and despite how they look, they're very social and need lots of attention from their peers. They have a loud, brash sound and have been known to eat, among many things. small reptiles (emo gecko rip). I gave her the iconic doc martins that every angsty teen with MCR in their playlist has.

Taylor Swift: A Japanese Pygmy Woodpecker, which despite it's size, is exceptionally sturdy, as in order to peck at the bark, they need to be able to keep their brains from being sloshed around from the pressure. They're from Japan, which I think Taylor would appreciate. They tend to hang out with other species, which is fitting since it seems he's friends with just about everyone. I gave him limited edition Beauty and the Beast anime promotional sneakers.

Normal Swallows-Oak-Garcia: A Chipping Sparrow. Partly just because of the pun with his dads name, but also because they're loud and skittish, are found in California, and are ground feeders. That last one doesn't have anything to do with him, but listen, my arms getting tired from reaching. I gave him mascot shoes that I imagine he always wears as Teenie the Teen!

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads taylor swift #dndads lincoln li wilson #dndads scary marlowe #scary marlowe #lincoln li wilson #dndads normal oak #normal swallows oak garcia #dungeons and daddies season 2 #dndads s2 #dndads fanart #art #birds #great blue heron #chipping sparrow #stellers jay #japanese pygmy woodpecker

101 notes · View notes

disastardly · 11 months

Text

After the defeat of Octomus, Chip Thorn tries a lot of things, and he’s pretty good at most of them. Freelance wizard, knight errant, alchemist-for-hire: you name it, he’s tried it, but the one most people don’t expect to stick is actual-play TTRPG content creation.

Given the timing of Mystic Force, he’s in a good position to get in on the ground floor and doesn’t even realize it when he starts. He just likes playing games with his friends, and records them so he can make sure he never misses anything. Putting them out as one of these new ‘podcast’ things makes sense when he’s already got all the audio and Vida offers to edit.

Of course it takes off - he’s creative, high energy, a really involved and thoughtful GM that seems to have an endless well of fantastical ideas to draw on. It’s word of mouth at first, but soon there are articles and blog posts and requests to livestream and the whole thing is spinning out of control too fast for even him to manage. That’s where Xander steps in, takes over production, and helps build an empire.

The Mystics all play, naturally; their entire first campaign is the five of them, nicknamed the Rowdy Rangers for their shenanigans at the table and an inscrutable in-joke about each multiclassing in Ranger. (Their character sheets do not reflect this and it’s a constant point of consternation among the fanbase to this day.)

They develop a bit of a retroactive fandom as their names grow; did you know Palme d’Or considered documentarian Madison Rocca also played D&D? Oh and what about her sister, 2007′s “Best New Artist” Grammy-winner Vida Rocca?

The buzz that really breaks containment stems from how Chip manages to get so many disparate, big-name folks to play at his table: pro motocross rider Dustin Brooks, director and stuntman Dax Lo, the highly entertaining and highly abrasive combo of Air Force Captain Taylor Earhardt and Silver Guardians Commander Eric Myers (they always play together), the list goes on and on. They all seem to get along like a house on fire despite having absolutely nothing in common, and Chip brings out the absolute weirdest, wildest, best in each of them, no matter how uncrackable they seem.

The fandom likes to joke that Chip is secretly a wizard (or maybe a bard) to get all these people to show up and play such incredible, heartfelt games together. A few anonymous posters online enjoy encouraging this rumor, maybe a little too much.

#chip as brennan lee mulligan just tickles some huge nerdy part of my soul #chip thorn #mystic force #power rangers mystic force #power rangers

21 notes · View notes

glorifiedvedder · 2 months

Text

i watch this edit daily actually

(creds: spncereid on tiktok<3)

#mgg #matthew gray gubler #68 kill #chip taylor #spencer reid #reid #criminal minds #tv #movies #thriller #mgg edit #spencer reid edit #criminalmindsedit

102 notes · View notes

delyth88 · 6 months

Text

Saw the extended edition of Return of the King in the theatre today for its 20th anniversary. And I'm so glad I did. I doubt there will be many chances to do this again in my lifetime.

The theatre was pretty near full (which for 2pm on a Sunday is impressive!), as the audience laughed, and I suspect cried, in all the right places (apart from the crazy girl to our left who appeared to break wrestling with a chip packet at the quiet points throughout 🙄). It was long, and even though the seats were really comfy it was still a slog. But so worth it.

I cried as the beacons were lit. I don’t really understand why this scene is so emotional, and I don't particularly want to analyse the magic away. And at so many moments towards the end. "But I can carry you." 😭

There were bonus moments I don't have committed to memory from the extended edition, which I love, because for a brief time it all becomes more real when I don't know what they're going to say.

When I watch these films they're overlaid with what I soaked up about it from the DVDs, interviews, TORn, and news from the time, and my memories of that period in my life. It's like listening to multiple commentaries all at once sometimes! Lol.

It's still such a good movie. They're all still such a great trilogy I'm so glad they hold up after all these years, and I'm so glad there are enough people who still care about them to allow them to be screened in theatres on ocassion.

To Peter Jackson, Richard Taylor, and the whole team, you have my thanks. ❤️

#and my axe #lotr #rotk #lord of the rings #return of the king #lotr 20th anniversary #i had this poster on my wall in our flat at uni

13 notes · View notes

persephones-journey · 5 months

Note

monday, saturday, september, november, tomorrow & yesterday 🥰

Oooo YAY!!!

monday: Do you struggle with the boring parts of writing?

Ahh, sometimes. I have scenes/ideas in my head and I always want to get to those, so yes, sometimes it is hard for me to focus on the boring parts such as editing, describing things and the building of tension. It's hard for me to slow down lol

saturday: what gets you excited whilst writing?

Feedback. Comments. People reaching out to talk to me about the story my characters. It excites me and makes me want to write more.

September: Share a comment or review that still warms your heart.

Oh, that's easy. My girl @medievalfangirl left a long perfect comment on Through the Dark part 2 of my Aisling/Finan fic where she said Aisling "felt like she was always part of the story/show" and that is my goal with an OC. I not only want them to feel like real people/characters, but I want it to feel believable that they are part of the story.

November: do you have any rituals or requirments for getting into the mood for writing?

mmmm, not really. I listen to music sometimes, reread the past chapter/what I previously wrote, and sometimes I read my ideas notebook to check if I am on the right track, need a little nudge.

Tomorrow: favourite ways to write fluff?

Hmm, I'll put on a fave episode of one of my tv shows and write. And Usually, with fluff, I try thinking about what I would like and go from there.

Yesterday: favourite way to write angst?

Wine. Chips. A movie/tv show episode that absolutely crushed me emotionally. Taylor Swift music... lol

#asks answered #thanks for this babe

4 notes · View notes

texanmarcusdavenport · 1 year

Text

More Lab Rats Headcanons

Other than S-1 & S-3, all of Krane's army were genetically engineered and held in artificial wombs until they were about five years old.

Because genetic engineering is very messy, all the bionic kids have health issues and birth defects that get worse as they grow older. Adam, Bree, Chase, and Daniel are better off because Douglas is very skilled, but Krane's army... not so much. Plus, since I also headcanon that Douglas is abc&d's biological egg donor and that mental illness/neurodivergency runs in the Davenport family, that adds to the problem.

However, Krane was a terrible person, so any bionic child with a condition that left them unable to fight was killed off. Because of this (and because of other deaths), there are what are referred to as "The Lost", those missing numbers such as S-2.

Adam's vision gets worse and worse as time goes on. Using his lazers exacerbates the issue. He gets huge glasses that allow him to see a bit better and Logan, Leo, & Taylor personally beat up anyone who mocks him for it. Taylor helps him navigate the world as a blind person.

Adam also develops joint pain, memory issues, and anxiety/PTSD. The memory issues aren't too severe, he's had them all his life (ADHD), but they do worsen dramatically as he reaches old age. The PTSD & anxiety both really freak him out, because he's so used to being the strong, unbothered one.

Because of all these issues, he eventually gets a service dog.

Bree has hyperflexibility and an extremely fast metabolism, both of which cause her a ton of problems such as joint pain, fatigue, and the occasional migraine.

Chase has chronic back pain, and he develops asthma in his late 30s/40s, all of which eventually make him unable to go on missions. He also has an overactive immune system which leads to problems like allergies, hashimoto's disease, arthritis, etc.

Chase might struggle with type II bipolar disorder, though he doesn't realize it until he's well into his 20s.

EDIT: I'd like to add that Chase, and probably others whose bionics affect their brain chemistry, might have/develop epilepsy (epilepsy is caused by the misfiring of electrical impulses in the brain, Chase has a shitton of wires shoved in there, it makes sense).

Daniel is the worst off. His body has to be able to accommodate a wide range of abilities at a moment's notice, & it takes a huge strain on his systems. He was born HoH, and once his bionics are activated his immune system, metabolism, and joints are soonafter shot to hell. He probably has his "favorite" powers that he sticks to which would influence his issues, so it's difficult to say what he'd struggle with exactly.

The bionic academy has classes for the blind and deaf as well as ASL lessons because there is such a large population of Blind & Deaf/HoH individuals.

Because Taylor, Sebastian, and Leo weren't genetically engineered to handle their bionics, they take a bigger toll on their systems. For example, they have to rest after using their bionics, for much longer than the other students do, and they also glitch quite a bit even if they use their capsules.

On that note, Taylor & Sebastian's bionics are similar to Leo's in that they're essentially fancy prosthetics. Unlike Leo, they have a chip, but it acts as a controller for said prosthetics (so that the Triton app could control them).

43 notes · View notes

rinqueen6 · 11 months

Text

New Era Unlocked (lover 2.0) | Taylor Swift x Rodrick Heffley

a/n: this is one of the four fanfictions written by yours truly and @oflethe during my community day stream (on June 5th, 2023, using the game frantic fanfic)

summary: taylor swift and rodrick heffley enemies to lovers

warnings: no editing in sight; mentions of matty healy

(each time there is a “---” there is a switched writer; it starts with me)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Eras tour had just begun.

Fans crowded the stadiums, waiting in lines to see their favorite pop girly sensation, T Swiftie.

Who was also waiting among the fans? Rodrick Heffley. But not for any old reason. No, Rodrick wasn't a FAN of Taylor Swift. He was an ANTI fan. Only there to shake his head judgmentally, and definitely not nod along to Shake It Off. He was NOT a fan of Taylor Swift. Not at all.

Then why, you ask, did he find himself sneaking in the back doors of the theater? Why did he roam the halls in search of Taylor herself? He didn't want to meet her. No, he really didn't.

"Excuse me?" A voice asked from h -------------------- -behind. Rodrick was, to say the least, shocked to see Brit Matty Healy himself.

"What do you want, weather boy?" he asked, crossing his arms. Rodrick did not like other rockstars, or British people, especially those who were called Matt.

"Oh, that's Rodrick from Loded Diper! Don't bother him Healy!" another voice exclaimed.

Taylor. She descended the stage stairs in her Midnights outfit, garter and all. -------------------- At the sight of Ms. Swift in all her glory, Rodrick's body seized up. He froze. He ACTUALLY froze.

"Hey, Rodrick." Her voice was like the angels themselves descended upon the stadium halls. The security guard nearby fainted, overtaken by her beauty. She was what a mirage wished it could be.

Rodrick didn't hate her. He didn't HATE her. He was supposed to hate her - he was an opposing band, a struggling rockstar himself. And Taylor was...Taylor.

"Get out here ya bum chip chip cheerio," Matty said.

Right. And she was dating MATTY.

"Matty more like Ratty. Heh heh." Rodrick's shoulders fell. His insults were not up to par. Maybe it was because Taylor was looking at him with those icy blue eyes, and he was entranced. Enchanted, if you will.

"You know what, Matty? You are a ratty." Taylor's confession made Rodrick nearly pass out from shock. "And I think I'd like a new drummer for the tour. You up for it, Rodrick?"

For once in Rodrick's life, he felt liek he could fly. He couldn't, but he felt like it.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm down."

Rodrick pushed Matty down a flight of stairs and hooked his arm in Taylor's, his drumsticks hanging from his hands. Taylor grabbed it in hers. mwah

#taylor swift x rodrick heffley #taylor swift fanfiction #rodrick heffley fanfiction #frantic fanfic #taylor swift fanfic #rodrick heffley fanfic #we lowkey predicted the breakup and im almost POSITIVE it happened just like this #no matty healys were actually hurt in the making of this fanfic #long live rodrick heffley #rinqueen

9 notes · View notes

iintotheunknown · 3 months

Text

open to: all

connection: friend, partner, crush etc.

plot: just two people chilling at like 2am. could be cute. could be angsty. who knows...

it was a quiet night. an almost perfect night. record player so low you couldn't even tell what was playing. moonlight dancing with fairy lights to create just enough light for them to see what they were doing. and a sharing-size bag of chips because sen was starving. the time was a blur. a needless fact that would only guilt trip them into calling it night. sen was feeling great; light even. the edible calming the fear of being perceived as weird or awkward. she wasn't out of it by any means, simply just vibing. "if we were in like a movie or a show or something do you reckon people would ship us together?" an absentminded question. "on second thought, I don't know if I'd wanna see myself edited to taylor swift. "

#indie rp #indie roleplay #indie bi rp #open starter #i just wanna use them more #tw drug mention

4 notes · View notes

domowrites · 2 years

Text

𝚃𝚘 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 (pt.2)

A Nathan Prescott x reader

TW: suicide & drug use! Also mommy issues

Available on: ➷ Wattpad

A/N authors note!!

OMG I cant believe how much love this story got??? I’m literally all giddy writing this I love y’all sm:(( tysm I appreciate your likes and the time y’all take to read these!!! I didn’t reread this cuz I didn’t wanna edit >:( okay back to the story🫡🫡

sen·ior· i ·tis

/ˌsēnyəˈrīdəs/

noun

an ebbing of motivation and effort by school seniors as evidenced by tardiness, absences, and lower grades.

Oh my god

Rereading your symptoms on your laptop screen made you feel paralyzed like all you could do was read the description mortified,

senioritis was full-on fucking you in the ass.

Let's just pray this doesn't lead to any unwanted pregnancies.

Your room was a pigsty at the moment unfinished assignments were littered everywhere spilling from your bed onto the floor.

You felt helpless like you'd fail no matter what and it didn't help you still don't have a clue about what you were going to write about. All you had in your notebook was

' just steal Donnie Darko's plot she won't know she's old'

This of course would be plan z, but sadly it was your only plan at the moment.

You didn't even get to sleep last night struggling to finish up your overdue assignments.

Speaking of last night you also didn't shower,

looking in your mirror across your bed you realize you still have left-over eyeliner under your eyes. You could've mistaken yourself for a raccoon or your seventh-grade emo phase.

Ready for the mosh pit shaka brah.

Staggering off the small bed, you struggle to keep yourself up, your legs felt tingly like you were stepping on a thousand needles filled with poison but also they were on fire.

Wincing you waddle down to your dorm closet opening it uncovering your daily attire and garments, what to wear...

Deciding to not go anywhere today but study in your cramped dorm room all day, you grab your bathing necessities place them in a bag, and call it a day.

It really was so hard being you.

Ready to go!

Brushing a hand through the tangled mess you call hair you charge your phone finally departing from the comfy home-like room with the shower bag in hand.

Walking down the dorm hallways was always a calm feeling, even with all the commotion going on behind locked doors.

Kate Marsh then pushes past you disrupting your inner monologue, if you were paying attention you could hear a 'sorry!' leave her gloomy chapped lips.

You couldn't but help to feel apologetic for her. You'd comfort her later, right now you had to take care of yourself. Like mom always said,

'You can't pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself first!'

Who were you kidding,

your mom never said that, the poster you just passed a few seconds ago did.

Placing both hands on the chipped slender doors you shove them open uncovering the shower room.

"...Max selfie, thought she was a badass taking that picture I should've beat her down."

Instantly recognizing what the voice was talking about and who was conversing you gasp. Sure you stayed in your room all day but, rumors spread.

You know Victoria could be a bitch but she totally didn't deserve public humiliation like that.

You were learning more and more about 'Max' against your own will every day.

"Omg are you talking about Max?"

🕊

It was hard to hear because of the loud pitter-patter of water but you make out a 'hey (y/n)' from Taylor you send her a small wave, you loved Taylor she was such a sweet soul and was uber gorgeous. You always had to fight the urge to pinch her soft cheeks and squeeze her,

averting your intense stare from Taylor back to Victoria you note she appeared ashamed, avoiding your gaze which was very odd compared to her usual cocky confident self, presumably because even the new kid knew about the disgraceful selfie.

Victoria then nods verifying your statement.

A little gossip wouldn't hurt, right?

You confided in Victoria she was never rude to you

...to your face.

"She's fucking crazy! Did you see what she did to Nathans's face?"

Making your way to the next available shower stall you close the curtain assuming they got your point.

Victoria then scoffs recalling Nathans's scarred face.

"She's a weirdo with that dumb camera."

Taking off your former apparel you try not to eavesdrop on the girl's conversation

twisting the handle on the wall causing the showerhead to spew.

"I hate the 'im so quirky' crap.

Anyway.

Let's leave the link to Kate's video so everybody gets a chance to see her in action."

Lathering soap on your head you sigh disappointedly in Taylor for encouraging Victoria's insecure behavior.

Poor Kate.

Hearing the girls giggle to themselves they loudly flee the damp room slamming the entrance door behind them.

You quietly hum a small tune to yourself imagining how today would go, it was gonna be painfully boring playing catch up. But that's what you get for skipping school.

Freezing cold water then rushes down your bare un expecting physique.

"Hello?! Water!"

you didn't mean for it to sound so brutal and harsh but you couldn't help it.

It was fucking cold.

"Sorry, I forgot!"

The unknown figure then rushes to turn off the sink, if they were still there by the time you finished you should remember to apologize.

You usually understood when you were in the wrong.

🕊️

Pleased, feeling clean you hop out of the shower fully clothed.

Foot on the cold school tile, you can't avoid letting out a sigh feeling the warmth depart from your moist body. Making your way to the sink, bag in hand, you proceed to do your morning routine brushing your teeth and hair.

Feeling a gust of wind towards your right you see it's coming from the now open door.

"Are you finally going to class?"

Surprised you recognize that low melodious voice, Alyssa Anderson, you haven't seen her since you started avoiding English class. To be fair you didn't want the teacher nagging your ear off about the project.

Was it finally time to go back? If you didn't you'd be doubling the work you have now.

"I'll text you.."

She nods downcast continuing to her destination.

Was she wishing you'd say yes?

You hated when people had expectations for you, it's not like you owed her or anyone anything.

Annoyed you quickly leave the shower room stomping through the hallways entering your dorm.

You didn't want to talk to anyone, not right now. This was not good for your aura.

Locking your door you take a few steps forward tossing your shower bag aside knocking down a few things off your nightstand, you reach your computer turning it on, and realize it's already on an opened tab.

Why must life be so hard..

Quickly exiting out you go to Spotify which instantly plays a random playlist, out of habit you instantly turn it down, you didn't want to disturb anyone with your superior toons.

Should you go to class?

Considering Alyssa's feelings and your grades you scrunch your eyebrows, you should go to class

You knew that

But you couldn't bring yourself to go.

It was just so exhausting and nerve-racking that you hated being here.

It was almost suffocating.

You hated that your mom moved you here

You hated Alyssa for caring

And you hated yourself.

You hated yourself for not caring enough, for not being a good person and doing the right things.

For being so selfish.

Only your feelings ever mattered not your dad's, not Alyssa's, and certainly not Nathan Prescott's.

🕊

You were going to class.

You had to.

You slowly walk to your long mirror hastily doing your makeup routine, in a blink of an eye, you were already dressed.

Tossing yourself on your bed you check your phone, four more minutes until the bell. Closing your eyes you lie there a while absorbing the music playing from your speaker it felt nice being alone with your thoughts.

Just pure vibes.

It was what you were used to, I mean your dad was never home and your mom wanted nothing to do with you.

hands dancing toward your pillow you pull out a small baggy,

Just to get through today.

Dragging a cookie in your mouth you instantly feel your tongue go numb

You kept them under your pillow for emergencies. (Which was probably not a good idea now that you think about it)

English class was an emergency.

Right?

You had to text Alyssa before they kicked in I mean you could wait but it'd just take about an hour to

type hey,

Alyssa ˁ῁͓ˀ

Omw:) Delivered

With a sigh, you gloomily sit up off of the cute bed stretching your now popped joints

Yay English

Getting off your bed, not like it was your choice, you turn off the music by closing your laptop

What else did you need?

Grabbing a few pens and notebook you were set.

Unplugging your phone and being sure to lock your door you make your way to class.

It was a peaceful walk to the school or the THC was kicking in, either way, you weren't complaining.

You weren't an addict or anything, you always like to say at least you weren't drinking or doing coke, marijuana was good for the nerves and sleeping, and a little MaryJane never killed anyone!

It's not like you were downing your 5th glass of wine ranting to your daughter, mascara running down your face, how her superhero father was a shit show shrieking

'oh, I should've never married him it's your fault we're still together!'

while said daughter, held the hair out of your face letting you release the bile of vomit

'flush'

No!!

Never that,

Weed made everything better she made you happy, and right now she was the only comforting thing on this planet, she made you feel like the world was in slow motion, at one point you felt time stop giving you a whiplash of deja vu.

🕊️

Pushing the sturdy doors in, the school's cool draft hits your face.

Was it always this cold?

As people push by you rushing to class you slowly move with them checking your phone you realize it's almost time for the bell. Looking back up from the device you make eye contact with the boy from the diner,

Nathan Prescott.

If time wasn't slow earlier it came to a complete stop now, people around you stayed motionless.

Like in those cheesy romcoms when the protagonist sees their soulmate and it's just them in the whole world and they're all that matters, but this wasn't romantic???

You give him a shy smile greeting him with a tiny wave, you should remember to ask for his number next time. Feeling a hard impact on your shoulder you can't help but steer off course stumbling over your own two feet.

Did the town's asshole Nathan Prescott, the one you swore you befriended, just shove you out of his way?

Nah.

Maybe he was just in a hurry?

Avoiding the public humiliation you quickly scurry into the open classroom.

"(y/n), welcome back!"

Shut the fuck up.

You smile at the teacher. well, at least you hope it was a smile, you felt so numb and it didn't help you kept replaying the scene of Nathan shoving you over and over. Like a movie, but this wasn't a movie which made it a thousand times more humbling.

Shuffling towards your seat the bell rings causing the class to instantly go quiet.

Seated next to Alyssa you wanted to talk to her but honestly, what would you say? She probably hates you at this point, she didn't even answer your message and you really couldn't blame her, even if you wanted to.

"Hey.."

She was so awkward, but she was cool. Probably one of the coolest students you've been acquainted with in Blackwell.

You quickly nod your head letting her know you also appreciated her presence.

Facing forward you listen to the teacher's lecture, which made your eyes slump longer the more she talked.

And you bet she talked.

She talked so much.

Being high was so weird to you, but not foreign. Why did people like being high for parties and stuff? It was calming to you but not fun, it felt like having a fever and being extremely tired like time was in slow motion, you moved in slow motion too.

Imagine having time powers?

You'd abuse the hell out of those powers for stupid shit

Like that one scene in open season stupid, you know when they break into the convenience store and eat everything?

Yeah.

sadly magic isn't real this isn't some fairytale.

"Yo, some crazy shit is going down at the girls' dorm! Check it!"

Huh?

Was that voice even real;; it sounded so distant.

Alyssa then drags you out of your bewildered state you both follow the racing stampede to the front of the school's dormitories. Looking around you realize the whole school was here,

but why?

Why did everyone look so frightened?

Looking at Alyssa for an answer you see her shriek pointing up. Noticing Alyssa like that gave you chills she was always so calm and collected, it's what you loved most about her, no matter what she always had a steady head. following her finger, it finally clicks.

Kate marsh was thinking about jumping off,

Kate marsh is going to die.

Your eyes widen, this wasn't real right? You were having a bad trip Kate was probably in class learning right now thinking about church things. She wouldn't jump would she?

Tears building up you realize you only took one cookie,

This was real.

Kate Marsh is going to die because of you because you didn't comfort her in the hallway.

Because you were so selfish.

Hands clamped over your mouth suppressing your cries, you felt so hyper-aware right now.

You could feel every single raindrop hit your skin, and hear every scream for help from friends wanting to save the lost girl.

Then it all goes still not a sound could be heard,

besides kate marsh's lifeless body, smashing against the cold wet pavement below her.

#nathan prescott x reader #domowrites #fanfic #nathan prescott #life is strange #x reader #reader insert #romance #high school #lis #Prescott #self insert #scenerio #asks are always appreciated

61 notes · View notes