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#i really want susan to get some
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Yesterday I volunteered at a pollinator event and I got a free plant! It was a pale purple coneflower, a native species I had been having a hard time getting my hands on! And it was a lovely sized plant, not a seed or even a seedling!
I'd been neglecting my garden lately but that day the weather was supposed to be nice for a bit until some rain. So I grabbed my gloves and went out, intending to just clear a bit of crabgrass out of my native perennial bed to make a spot for the new plant.
I came back to consciousness two hours later.
I stopped when I felt the first raindrop. I had worn open blisters into two fingers, other fingertips had blisters so bad I could barely type, and my forearms were scratched to shit from crabgrass and fescue. I'd cleared out about three quarters of the weeds in the bed and also expanded it by six inches all around by pulling more grass and moving the edging stones.
holy shit
ow
my garden actually grew in nicely under all the shit i let fester
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you know, i appreciate the work Susan Sontag has done for people appreciating Camp and stuff but i feel like if you are still using Susan Sontag as the authority on Camp in the year of your lord 2023, using notes that were written in 1964, as if the landscape of art and our relationship to art hasn't fundamentally changed since then,,, it's like, you need to catch up babes, a lot of those points are still really relevant, i'm not saying throw it out, but like update your understandings of Camp beyond that one authoritative text that's at this point almost 60 fucking years old. Susan Sontag is not the fundamental authority on what art today is or would be considered Campy, build off of those basics, please dear gods, evolve your understanding of what Campy art today actually looks like rather than trying to apply a prescriptive label from a text that can kinda boil down to 'Camp is whatever you feel like, and you'll know it when you see it because it won't be like traditional art' because the attempt to define it is so wide, calling every non-traditional piece of art campy is fucking pointless and not how anyone is obviously using the fucking label, people are very deliberately talking about one specific feeling they get from the piece of art, and it's got very little to do with aesthetics, at least as far as TV shows are concerned (movies are a different conversation), and much more about presentation and tone and intended effects and what the whole fucking point of the piece of art actually is, which is a lot more than what is afforded to most things considered Campy, like 90% of the shit people call campy at this point is just called campy and then it's left there, because it's a "oh you can't say anything about it because it's campy" like at this point it almost functions as a conversation ender because anyone you're talking to about any aspect can just go "yeah that's meant to be that way, it's campy" and it's like. okay, where do we go from here? should the piece of art not be analyzed as a work of art? does it not deserve to be evaluated in good faith and treated like any other piece of art? i understand the urge to defend the use of the term, as like "oh we're using it because people are misunderstanding art and what it's trying to be", and as a Riverdale-truther (as in genuinely love it as a piece of art and what it says and does, it's not fucking campy i swear to god, none of you fucking know what pulp art is!), and as a TASM2 truther (best Spidey movie after ITSV, and definitely best general movie after ITSV, and i don't care what your opinion is) i understand the urge to want to defend it as camp, but like, what's the piece of art actually doing and trying to say, what are the deeper layers at play? or are you really just satisfied saying something is Campy and stopping your analysis of the piece of art there? is your soul really okay correcting someone's interpretation of a show and saying it's campy and not doing anything beyond that? what does it being campy actually change? what the fuck does it actually do for the piece of art, if the piece of art is even campy at all?
#yes i am in fact Riverdale-posting bc i saw a video essay calling Riverdale campy and talking about Susan.#james talks#anyone that tries to say 'Riverdale is good because it's bad' or 'Riverdale is supposed to be bad' is my mortal enemy actually#james rambles#DON'T READ THIS I JUST NEEDED TO GET THE THOUGHTS OUT#yes i am in fact aware i am using camp as a prescriptive label when i say don't call Riverdale campy. you're so smart. thanks for noticing!#if the implication wasn't fucking clear my point is that saying it's campy and meant to just be entertaining is doing a huge disservice—#to the actual piece of art and treating it like it's not actually trying to say and be something.#you don't have to drag people over to your side inch by inch to open their eyes! just spill your perspectives onto the floor!#the world will catch up with you someday!#you don't have to do the work of getting people to see something as campy to try to get them to see the show through a different light!#it's not even efficient bc like i said it just becomes a conversation ender bc the implication is that the analysis is inherently wrong—#because it's misunderstanding the intent in why some part of something is the way it is but like! you don't have to waste your energy—#trying to correct people (don't even try it. i am in fact deeply self aware.)!#spend more of your time trying to explain why you think it's good instead of complaining about how nobody else fucking gets it.#i get that you want more people to see what you see but that doesn't come from trying to inch them over the line bit by bit!#it comes from explaining your view and understanding of the show!#you don't have to try to convince them it's campy! just actually analyze the fucking piece of art & the people interested will flock to it!#also it's been years since i've actually read notes on camp so it's likely i've got some shit wrong bc i'm not fact-checking this rant.#but like the point isn't even really about the text but how other people use it.#and yes i'm aware this sounds inherently contradictory and incoherent. thank you for noticing. welcome to human existence.#to quote (paraphrase) Vivian Strange tho: if it exists it deserves to be analyzed.#treat every piece of art like it's worthy of analysis and respect and this goes from your fucking godfathers to your sharknados.#it goes from your fucking shawshanks to your mamma mia! to your Riverdale to your PLL to your euphoria to your whatever#anyway just really exhausting to hear people say something is Campy or meant to be bad or whatever and just stopping the convo there.#like what now girlie? where do we fucking go from here? do you have anything meaningful to contribute?
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senadimell · 2 years
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uuuuugggggggh, I really want this fic to be ALREADY finished at the same level of quality that I produced for the opening bit
(which i guess expecting it to be done and easy discredits how much work went into the opening bit but still....it’s so so far from being done and i wish it was already done because i want to find someone who is also in love with this idea and analysis and talk to them about it)
#look it's a crossover so it's going to be doomed to obscurity#and the fact that i'm trying to ape danged sir terry pratchett does not make this any easier#BUT NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO WRITE THIS IDEA SO GUESS I'M STUCK WITH WRITING IT#i've got about four fics total...#i've only got about four fics total...but only one is conceivably close to completion#and two are frankly above my skill level (this is one of them)#but...i get the feeling that these things are so niche that i am the only one who's gonna properly speak them into existence#(not necessarily niche as in no one will enjoy them but i also zero expect to find someone else writing them the way i want)#if only i had more energy more often to do anything other than army-drag myself once a week to working on any one of them#rose-ten cyborg dystopia thing that combines my favorite fandom-specific tropes has a monster plot#and i've been avoiding it for over a year because i can't bring myself to write this dang next scene#martha character analysis piece is super dang hard because i'm laser focused on every line (i swear i'm gonna have to be a poet or somthng#because i don't think i'm cut out for novel-ing with the amount of scrutiny that each line gets)#and also the martha piece involves Sensitive Subjects and Heavy Things that require respectful research and so. much. thought#susan character study/science-fangirling piece's end is literally in sight but i keep not writing it because i have to do describing#(i hate describing. it's so hard. stupid plot and things that happened are way harder than conversations or thoughts)#and also the remaining scene and ending involves writing about some kinda heavy stuff#then this crossover piece! which combines all of the problems! except i guess objective length#it's supposed to be only 4 chapters max but it's 4 plotted chapters of distilled prose with heavy subject matter and satire#and it needs aforementioned Plot which i don't care much about inventing but really is necessary for the story to work right#people who say fanfiction is easy are wrong actually
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ofpd · 2 years
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there's this tape my grandmother recorded not long before she died and in it she addressed each of her children (who were young children at the time) and i've listened to this tape many times over the years and i remember that there's a lot of meaningful things on it but the one thing that always stands out in my memory is when she says to my dad “you're the smartest little boy i ever knew, but i'd love you even if you were stupid”
#i just took a shower far longer than intended bc i started thinking about her a lot for some reason#txt#another thing i was thinking about was this summer at a reunion for extended family#my 10 or 11yo first cousin asked me which side of the family is was a reunion for#and i was like “grandma susan's side” and she was like “oh yeah”#and like what are you supposed to say to a reminder that we have a grandma who we don't know well enough that she gets a fun grandma name#like. she's just grandma susan. the grandma we've never met#and also it reminded me that we are in fact first cousins like we're from the same family and our dads grew up together#we both grew up knowing that we have a dad whose mom died when he was a little kid#idk it's just interesting how these things work#im named after her of course. susan(na) is the anglicization of shoshana and her hebrew name was shoshana#like this is just knowledge I've always had. that im named after my dead grandma.#also a large part of why i don't think i would ever change my name for transgender reasons even though i want to sometimes#or maybe i could change my first name and then make shoshana my middle name idk#also not to fandomize this but my dad binged the first 1.5 seasons of toh but never got around to watching season 2b#it's so good he'd really like it. also the episode about luz's dad's yahrzeit reminded me of how we had made plans to have a big gathering#for my grandma's 40th yahrzeit. but that ended up being in march 2020 so it was cancelled
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robocracker · 7 months
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watching classic who: an unearthly child
a very long time ago i started watching dw from the very beginning, ahead of the 50th anniversary special... and then got distracted halfway through episode two and never returned.
well, now i'm finally diving back in, because it's all on iplayer and what isn't there is still accessible elsewhere, so up yours mr coburn!
anyway.
five minutes in and i already love the dynamic set up between ian and barbara. if they're already getting up to ~investigations~ like this, then i predict many future shenanigans.
the doctor's a snarky git and i'm so here for it
imagine if all dw conflicts could be resolved by the doctor just waltzing around saying "you don't deserve any explanation". laughing in your face when you don't get something. why can't we have that.
"if they don't understand it, they can't hurt us" oh... oh susan, no... no i'm sorry but that's not how humans work...
ian that was some masterful pretend falling around as the tardis took off. do it again.
this tedious dick slinging contest over which man can make fire first is really reminding me why i got so distracted from finishing this episode the first time around...
sweet jesus susan those are some powerful lungs you've got on you
i need the doctor to start pelting people with rocks again
maybe the real reason coburn won't let the bbc have this serial is because he didn't want the world to know his dad wrote two rival cavemen rolling around on top of each other
okay, so. that was the very first serial of doctor who! i have to admit aside from the first part, it was... not the strongest opener. and i'm surprised by how little the doctor actually did here. aside from snarking in part one, and then getting kidnapped and sulking when he couldn't kill the caveman, he was kind of just. there.
and dear god, the amount of screaming. the visual quality might not have held up over the years but the audio sure fucking does. i would ask if it gets any better but i already know i'm not so fortunate there.
but honestly, part one was a lot of fun, and even if the following three parts had me pretty bored and/or frustrated, there's still plenty in the tardis team to make me interested in continuing. (as if i wasn't already dead set on doing that anyway) i'm interested to see where this goes next!
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reareaotaku · 5 months
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No Fun Babysitting
Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol
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"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"
His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."
"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.
"She's busy."
"Why can't I watch Manny?"
Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.
"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."
Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"
Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."
"She's going to be here?"
"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.
"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.
Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.
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"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.
"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."
"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."
You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"
Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.
"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."
"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"
Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."
"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.
"What.. uh, brings you around?"
"Um... What do you mean?"
He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"
"Everyone likes music."
"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.
Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.
"I'm in a band, you should come listen."
"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.
"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."
"Loaded Diaper?"
"Yeah."
"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.
You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"
"Rock."
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."
"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."
"Yeah, will do."
He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.
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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months
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Lost And Found
PLATONIC Father!Alastor x Gn!Child!Reader
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TW:Susan.
A/N: PART TWO OF TOO LATE!! Credits to the Amazing Anon for the prompt and @aboyscriminalrecord FOR THE AMAZING ART!! AUNTIE ROSIE IS WHAT I LIVE FOR
First Prompt, Second Prompt
Rosie was walking through Cannibal Town when she first met you. Standing in the middle of the road, shaking like a leaf as you cried your little heart out. She couldn’t leave a small thing like you alone, so she walked over watching as the smaller ears littered with small little dots fell back on your head. A little doe lost in the scary world, where were your parents? 
She crouched down and held out her hands, “Hi there Little one,” She started watching you look around before moving closer towards her as a few people stopped to watch. Your little hooves clicking on the asphalt of the road as your hands held onto hers. You felt safe with her, the same feeling of safety that you associated with your papa and grandma, she was safe? But where was your papa? You wanted to see him again.
~~~
You lost track of how long you’ve been with Auntie Rosie but it’s been fun! You get to run around the town and play with other kids which was something that you could never really do because of how sick you were. It wasn’t until an older lady with a weird looking scarf came out and started yelling at your group that you got upset.
You weren’t near her garden! You were on the opposite side of the road! You huffed and turned to ignore her, you couldn’t go back to Auntie Rosie cause she said she was having an old friend over and you weren’t supposed to meddle in adult business but you didn’t want to play with an old lady that was yelling at you. So you walked back towards Auntie Rosie’s store, as the old lady followed you yelling even more. 
Rosie got a surprise when she watched as Susan walked in, yelling at her about the little child she was taking care of. She sent Alastor an apologetic glance that he had waved off as he stared at Susan, who was yelling about how their clothes were dirty and how they were too close to her garden. As she finally got Susan to calm down, which took a lot of time, the sound of small hooves on the tiled floor caught her attention and then a soft sounding, “Papa?” echoed throughout the room. The room fell silent as she looked over to see you hiding behind the counter as you stared at Alastor.
Alastor’s head snapped towards the sound before his hands started to shake as he stared down at you. What were you doing down in hell? You were supposed to be up in Heaven with his Mama. He stood up as Rosie looked at him but he didn’t pay no mind as he slowly walked over watching as your eyes lit up and you smiled at him. He was silent for too long as he crouched down to your height, “Hello little fawn,” He whispered out trying to hold back the tears as you ran forward and hugged his arm, little tail wagging a mile a minute. 
He carefully picked your tinier body up, it still felt light as it did when you died and he cursed at himself for it. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck as you talked all about Rosie and the new friends you had made in the town, he buried his face into your hair, careful of the tiny ears on your head as he silently cried. He was happy he had you back in his arms after all of this time but then he blamed himself, dragging his child down into hell with him? What kind of Father did that?
A soft hand was placed on his shoulder and he glanced up to see Rosie smiling at him. “I’ll go make some more tea,” She whispered as he looked back down at you, his little fawn. He’d do it right this time, he’ll protect you from everything that dared put you in harm's way and he’ll try to find a way to put you in heaven with his Mama. You didn’t belong down here with him.
He’d worry about that later. Right now he just wanted to hold you in his arms for just a moment longer.
Taglist: @misty-melody, @littledolly2345
A/N: ANON IF YOUR SEEING THIS I HOPE ITS LIVING UP TO YOUR IDEA!! ALSO HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS!!!
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haute-pockette · 5 months
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The Doctor being disabled.
Every incarnation sitting somewhere on the autism spectrum. Their stims and behaviors vary between incarnations.
First doctor with alexithymia. On Gallifrey it was fine, ignored. A "superior race" that prided itself in observation without interference doesn't put too much stalk in compassion. But meeting humans up close with Barbara and Ian started him down a path of learning to put words to his own feelings as well as others.
As his body aged he also developed arthritis. The cane was for mobility as much as it was for style. He learned the hard way that aspirin is not Gallifreyan friendly (he survived the small dose, but it scared the hell out of Susan).
Two with lots of physical stims. All his gestures and wringing his hands, grabbing onto companions.
Dyspraxic Two. Chicken scratch handwriting, stumbling over his words and his feet. He really leans into tactile sensations whether it's the texture of his clothes or holding onto a companion, it was always grounding for him.
Third tended to shut down more than his first two since the constant stress and frustration of exile had him already wound pretty tight. He'll lock himself in the lab and just put himself on autopilot until he recharges enough to deal with whatever shenanigans are happening.
Three has tinnitus that of various sounds including almost like the tardis materialization sound. He often has to look up to check if the Master is showing up to bother him or not.
Four has ADHD alongside with autism. He struggles with constantly running from responsibility and wanting to have some sense of control of situations.
It's one of those snowballs of procrastination causing anxiety which causes him to procrastinate further. Unless it's urgently life threatening, his stress response is freeze.
Five masks and suppresses his emotions in an attempt to blend with neurotypicals more since he's self-conscious of his previous "eccentricity" as Four. It causes a lot of strain between him and Tegan after Earthshock.
Peripheral neuropathy causing muscle weakness in his legs cause of the difficult regeneration. Look how much he falls over and leans on the tardis console, he can't stand straight for long periods of time without aids. Usually has braces, but will use a cane around the tardis (would use the wheelchair but it's dead in the Castrovalva river).
Six gets overstimulated easier than some, especially by noises and textures. Usually that with things not going accordingly tends to set off meltdowns. Ever since he hurt Peri he turns his energy on himself instead.
Bipolar Six. He tends to handle mania better than depression, at least when he has too much energy he knows he can spend it and try to get it out. He'll usually park the tardis somewhere his companion can enjoy and shut himself away in the cloister room or zero room when at the worst of his lows.
Also type 1 diabetic six, regenerating from poison fucked with his metabolism. He is careful to take care of his blood sugar, but he's terrible at remembering to stay hydrated. That's why Mel is always shoving carrot juice at him.
Seven has ADD (yes I know it's technically "ADHD of the predominantly inattentive type" but ADD is easier). ADD as in he's always in his own head, always five points ahead of the conversation. His train of thought is incomprehensible to most, but there is a string of logic to it.
Dyspraxic Seven with an abnormal gait and stance. Bad posture makes him look shorter than he is. Only he can read his own handwriting, which he insists is not as bad as it is.
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priestvox · 3 months
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I present unto thee this persistent thought:
Angels, as a rule, are possessive creatures. It is the nature of the divine to covet, to claim, to keep, to care for.
Angels, when they love, love with everything they are. Sometimes, they can even be possessive for each other. Especially when they're in a flock.
Flocks are very tight-knit angel families, and you don't try to break up a flock. You just don't.
Why does this matter to the Hazbin cast?
Lucifer and Vaggie are angels. Charlie is a half-angel.
Lucifer's protective-and-possessive streak is well-documented by this point, but Vaggie's is only semi-acknowledged and Charlie's goes almost completely unnoticed.
So while Lucifer is competing tooth-and-nail against Vox for Alastor's hand, Charlie begins thinking of Alastor as her step-dad already. Though she'll never admit it, Vaggie starts seeing Alastor as her step-dad-in-law.
It takes Adam (fallen and bitter about it as he is) almost two months to realize that Alastor has become part of a makeshift flock.
It takes him another week to convince Susan of just how utterly fucked Vox (and the surrounding area, probably) would be if he ever did manage to take Alastor away from those three.
Vox, of course, doesn't listen to reason and has no intention of backing off until he wins.
Lucifer is starting to get sick of Vox's antics.
Charlie really doesn't want to see her step-dad get stolen by some TV freak.
Vaggie doesn't want Charlie's step-dad being taken away, either.
(Nevermind that Lucifer and Alastor aren't actually married.)
Alastor, and the rest of the Hotel residents for that matter, don't even know what a flock is, let alone that they are the single safest group of individuals in Hell simply for being part of one.
👀
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punkitt-is-here · 11 months
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Frequently Asked Questions!
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Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.
Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.
Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?
ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.
Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?
Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.
Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?
I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)
What do you use for your art?
I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!
What are you using to make your games?
I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!
Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?
It's fun!
Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?
Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard
Can I make an OC based on your work? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!
Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics? As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!
Can I use your art as a PFP? Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D
Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?
Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]
Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?
Yep! That's me.
Where are you in MLP right now?
Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.
Have you watched Equestria Girls?
Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.
What's your opinion on MLP so far?
I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.
What do you think of G5?
Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!
Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?
Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.
Favorite pony?
Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!
Favorite episode/season?
I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.
Do you like Pony.mov?
Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!
Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?
Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!
What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?
I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.
Are you transgender?
Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!
Are you a lesbian?
Nah, I'm bisexual!
Can I commission you?
Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.
Can I use your art as a Discord emote?
Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.
Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?
I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!
Favorite Color?
I'm a sucker for blue!
Favorite coffee?
Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.
Favorite tea?
I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.
Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?
Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.
What's your favorite game series?
Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.
Favorite game from those?
Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.
Any other favs?
Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!
Favorite Movie?
Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.
Oh, are you going to college?
Yep! I'm a film/theater major.
Do you have a YouTube channel?
Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.
What is that little orange creature I see?
That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.
Do you have a ponysona?
Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.
When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?
No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.
How do you work on so many things at once?
I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.
Did you know you look like Weird Al?
Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out
WHY do you work on so many things at once?
Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)
Do you need any help with your projects?
Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.
If you could be a horse, would you?
You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.
Are you some sort of...furry?
yeag
Why do you reblog so much?
Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.
Fav music artists?
It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.
Why are you like this?
theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo
SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS
Is it out? Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)
What are you using to make it? SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.
Is there a demo? You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.
How do I install it? I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!
1K notes · View notes
libraryofloveletters · 5 months
Text
chapter eight: lucky doesn't cover it
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Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader
Warnings: honeymoon stage, seb is so cheesy and soooo touchy, it's like two teenagers in love really, nsfw themes but nothing graphic, suggestions to sex and nsfw content, liv and millie are so sus of you two, the lies are catching up to you two, secrets are told, family sweetness. - this is low-key a filler chapter, I have drama next chapter *smiles evilly*
Word Count: 3.1k
Author’s Note: sorry for the 4 million year wait, y'all know I love me some seb so hopefully this makes up for the lack of seb lately. don't blame me, tell that man to come out of hiding again!
sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist
---
It has been a few weeks since your first date with Sebastian and things were going well, beyond well actually. You couldn't have asked for a better version of things to unfold.
The two of you had begun dating but decided to keep things quiet, especially from Olivia and Amelia. Neither of you wanted to complicate things for the girls, wanting to keep things as they were in case it didn't work between you two, god forbid.
Liv and Milly were currently in the pool at your place, you had brought lunch out onto the back deck and Sebastian was keeping an eye on them while they were in the pool. The door creaks, Seb glances over his shoulder to see you coming out with a pitcher of juice, setting it down on the table with the food you had brought out moments before.
You leant over slightly, pouring some juice into the cups for the girls when your knee brushes against Seb's thigh. His black shorts left his legs on display and typically, you'd regard his legs as just.. legs but something about Sebastian was different now, you weren't sure if it was because now he was your man or if you had been so pent up and now that you'd getting a chance to release it, it's hitting you at once.
Seb's forearm lays on the arm rest, fingers creeping up the back of your thigh to the hem of your shorts. Almost leaning into his touch, Olivia's voice pulls you from the thoughts in your head.
"Is lunch ready, mama?!" She shouts from the pool.
Clearing your throat, you nod. "Yeah!" You reach behind to swat Seb's wandering hand away, throwing him a glare as you pick up the towels and walk over to help the girls out of the pool.
The man watches as you wrap the towels around the girls, sending them off in the direction of the table to eat and he can't help but smile; how did he ever get so lucky ?
Olivia and Amelia sit across from Seb, the two of them joint at the hip like baby penguins waddling about. The only chair left was the one next to Seb, it had become your usual spot anyways.
The 4 of you chatted, the girls updated you both on class trips, projects and the drama between Susan B and Susan H. Seb was more intrigued than you as you had heard the rundown when you picked them up from school on Friday.
A warm hand rests on your thigh under the table, startling you momentarily. You look over to see if he was trying to get your attention, but he wasn't. "Does Susan B know that Susan H held Josh's hand on the playground?" He asked the girls, clearly caught up in the drama of second grade.
Amelia corrects him. "It was Susan H that held Josh's hand, dad. Susan B was boyfriend girlfriend with Josh first."
"And Susan B saw all of it happen while she was on the swings too," Olivia adds, making sure to emphasize on her words for dramatic effect.
You smile, shaking your head at the second grade drama as your hand rests atop Seb's, fingers interlocking over his. The man squeezes your thigh softly as his thumb rubs gently over your skin.
Lucky doesn't begin to cover it.
--
"Milly!" Olivia shouts, pulling on your hand as you locked the car. You see the blonde girl and her dad, both of their curls unruly and sparkling under the morning sunshine.
Amelia smiles, shouting back. "Liv!"
Sebastian lets his little girl when he sees you with Olivia, knowing you'd stop them from running into the busy parking lot. The two girls wrapped each other in a hug, Milly says good morning to you and you smile, saying it back. You followed closely behind them as you attempted to put Milly's hair into a ponytail while they walked, knowing they had gym class and having her hair in her face would bother her.
"Good morning, Mr. Seb!" Liv smiles at the man, Seb pinches her cheek softly. "Morning sweet pea," he says back with a smile.
The girls were whispering about something, perhaps the fact that Josh was giggling with Susan H today instead of Susan B. Seb nudges your shoulder, leaning into you slightly. "Morning you."
"Good morning Sebastian," you glance at him, knowing better than to start him up before he doesn't stop.
His hand rests on his chest, feigning hurt. "Sebastian? You wound me, woman."
"I try my best," you smiled, turning your head to look at him. Sebastian leans into you, his lips by your ear. “You look nice. I like your top,” he gestures to his chest, his fingers brushing over his sternum - just as he did months ago when you helped him with Milly's bedroom.
The action causes you to look down, your top had slipped a little bit when you grabbed Olivia's bag out of the car.
You roll your eyes, swatting his arm playfully before readjusting your shirt. "Behave, there are children here."
"There are children at home too, but we've done dirty things there too-" "Dad!" Milly shouts, getting her dad's attention. "Did you put my water bottle in my bag?"
"It's in your lunch bag, kiddo." He tells her, fixing the strap on her bag. "Now you two are gonna be late if you don't get your butts down to line up."
The girls hug each of you, switching to hug the other and then run off to line up for entry. You and Seb waved to them from the sidewalk before you head back to the parking lot, his hand resting on your lower back as you walk. HIs hand slipped lower and lower by the second until you stepped away.
Your back is against the pickup, looking at your boyfriend - that's such a funny term. You didn't think at your age, with a 7 year old kid that you'd have a boyfriend again. It seems unreal to you, both in a good way and a bad way.
"Do you have work today?" He asks, noticing you've taken the truck and not your car.
"Yeah, gotta drop by the construction site today."
"What time are you off?"
"Noon-ish probably, I hope. You know how it goes with them," you shrugged. Seb nods, "the girls are staying at school for lunch today, sooo... why don't you come by after you're done work?"
"Are you gonna cook me lunch then, Sebastian?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a big cook but there were a few recipes that he had perfected and liked to make.
He shrugs, making a face. A hand resting behind your head, caging you in between him and the truck. "Figured we could order from your favourite Italian place."
"As nice as that sounds, you know how slow they are. It'll take them forever to deliver."
Sebastian's got a wicked grin on his face, something dirty on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be said. He leans in, lips by your ear. "There's a way we can pass the time."
If you hadn't gotten what he was suggesting before, his lips on your neck gave it away. "Sebastian!" You giggled, pushing him away. "Stop it before we get in trouble."
"We don't go to school here, it's fine."
"We have kids that go here though, and I have work. I need to go before you make me late."
"You're no fun," he tells you, pouting like a child as you get into the truck, your door still open as you look at him. "Stop pouting, you doofus. Come gimme a kiss so I can go," your hand stretched out for him.
Seb smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss before you let him go. "Have a good day, I'll see you after."
"Drive safe," you tell him, shutting the door. You wind down the window. "Not like a formula one driver!"
"I'll try my best!" He shouts, "no promises!"
You rolled your eyes, smiling as you pulled out of the parking lot.
--
Clothes scattered on the floor, your heels kicked off on the steps on the way up to Seb's bedroom and your purse long forgotten by the front door.
"C'mere," Seb grabs your arm, pulling your back flush against his chest. His warmth kept you snuggled into him, not wanting to move anytime soon.
"We really do need to get up."
"What for?" He asks, peppering kisses along your shoulder. You roll your eyes, "you ordered food and frankly, I'm starving."
"Yeah?" He says, you can sense the shit eating grin on his face. "Wonder why you're so hungry."
"Oh hush," you reach back, smacking his cheek softly. "I had work, don't think so highly of yourself."
Seb laughs, untangling himself from you when the doorbell rings. "As if you summoned them, honey." He pulls his shorts on, grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand.
You roll over, grabbing his hand. "I have to go," he tells you and you pout, making a face. Seb smiles, leaning down to kiss your head. "I'll be back in two seconds, and I'll have your chicken parm so you'll love me even more."
"Yeah," you chuckled, leaning back. "Fine."
Seb laughs, leaving you in bed to go get the delivery from the guy. You decided that pasta was too messy to eat in bed so you got dressed, meaning you borrowed Seb's shirt and made your way downstairs.
"Sleeping beauty emerges," he jokes and earns another eye roll from you. The two of you find your way to the kitchen, as you do most times, grabbing what you need before making your way to the table.
It was a very domestic scene; sitting at the table, eating as you discussed what the girls had in school that week. As if you had been married for years.
"I have to get dressed," you announce, getting up as Seb took the empty plates to the kitchen. "What for?" He glanced at you, rinsing the plates out to put them into the dishwasher.
"We have to pick up the girls."
"I'll pick them up, you rest."
"You're sure?" You asked and Seb nodded, "100%, you stay and relax." He kisses you softly, hands cupping your cheeks.
You smile and nod, following him to the door. "Where are you going?" Seb asks.
"I'm going to get dressed."
The man looks at you clearly confused, he had already told you to stay and relax and that he would pick up the girls.
"They can't come home to see me wandering around here in just your shirt, they don't need to see that."
"I do," he raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin on his face. "Sebastian behave," you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully at his childishness. He smiles, putting his hoodie on before grabbing his car keys.
"I'll see you when I'm back," he tells you, giving you a kiss before heading out.
The drive to the school was normal, 5 minutes and he's parked, waiting for the two girls to come out. The teacher sees Sebastian, waving to him as he signals that he's taking both Milly and Liv home today. It's nothing unusual that you and Seb take turns picking up the girls, it's just whoever was free or closer. Most times Seb picks them up as you're usually at work.
Milly's holding one of his hands and Liv is holding the other, the 3 of them walking back to his car. "Mr. Seb? Where's mom?" Liv asks him, the man looks at her puzzled for a moment.
"Uh she's at our place."
Milly and Liv exchange a confused glance as they climb into the car. "What's she doing there?" Milly asks her father, clearly curious.
"Well, she was running late on her way back from work so I told her I'd pick you guys up and meet her at home."
The answer seemed to curb their curiosity for the time being, Seb driving home with the girls. Your truck parked on the road as you were always certain you'd crash into Seb's car if you pulled into the driveway.
The girls were held expecting you to get out of the truck but Seb instead led them to the front door, unlocking it to let them in. "Hi girls!" You called, stepping out of the kitchen. You had gotten redressed while they were gone, much to Sebastian's dismay.
"Hi mama," Liv says, glancing at her best friend. "Mr. Seb said you were running late from work."
"I was," you tell her, glancing at Seb. The man shrugs from behind the girls as if to say he needed an excuse.
Milly or Liv seemed to be buying the lame ass excuse you and Seb - mostly Seb- came up with. "How'd you get inside?" Milly asks you, knowing her dad had just unlocked the front door.
This story wasn't adding up.
Seb clears his throat. "Why don't you two go get a snack, you can have candy if you want. There's Kit Kat in the pantry." He tells them, the girls drop their bags by the stairs and go running to the pantry.
You look behind you to make sure the girls are gone before walking over to Seb. "Really? I'm running late but I'm in the house? You couldn't come up with something better?" You whispered to him.
The man shrugged, "they're like mini detectives, all scary and judgey. I had to say something!" he whisper shouts to you, "we need to tell them."
"Already? It's too soon."
"We're together all the time, babe. I can't keep kissing you in secret." He says, a look feigning exhaust from the lack of kisses on his face.
You sigh, nodding. "Fine," your hand cups his cheek, kissing him softly. "Let's go."
"Girls?!" Seb calls for them, "can you come here? Y/n and I want to talk to you!"
The girls come in, chocolate on their faces and fingers. You grab a tissue and wrap their faces and hands as they sit on the couch, you and Seb are across from them on the other couch. "What is it?" Milly asks, looking between you and Seb.
"Well," you start, looking to see if Seb wants to speak but he signals for you to go ahead; typical men. "How would you two feel if.. Mr. Seb and I started.. well, seeing each other?" You asked them, the girls both have a confused look on their faces.
They exchange a glance, "what does that mean?" Milly asks, her brows furrowed; the splitting image of her father.
"It means they kiss!" Liv tells her, her hand over her mouth as she giggles. Milly makes a face. "Ew! Cooties!" She giggled, her and Olivia making faces at each other.
You and Seb exchange a look, trying not to laugh.
"It does mean we kiss," Seb says, "but it means we like each other."
"Like how we like each other?" Liv asks, "like best friends?"
"Sort of," Seb smiles, "it's more like when two grown-ups really like each other in a special way. They care about each other a lot, like how friends care about each other, but with even more love."
"So super duper best friends," Liv says, making you laugh.
"Basically, yeah. How do you guys feel about that?" You asked, not wanting to leave any stone unturned.
"Does this mean we're.. sisters?" Milly asks, "cause you're Liv's mom and you're my dad so you're mom and dad.."
"I guess," you say, looking at Seb for some help. "I mean, yeah. You are sisters."
The girls giggle, "cool!" They happen to say at the same time and get up, coming over to hug you and Seb. You smile, "we've got to head home, sweetheart. You can come by tomorrow if you want."
She makes a sad face but nods, her and Milly walking to the door to gather Liv's stuff when Seb pulls you up from the couch and into a hug. "See? Was that so hard?"
"Shut up," you huffed, the man laughed as you two walked to the front door.
You watch as the girls hug each other bye, Milly comes over to give you a hug and you lean down to hug her back. Seb kisses Liv's head before turning to you, giving you a kiss.
"Ew!" The girls chorus, making the two of you laugh.
You and Olivia head home, the two of you going about your evening. Liv does her homework while you worked on some work plans and emails, you had dinner together and then both of you did your night time routines before you joined her in her bedroom for story time.
"Mom?" Liv calls for you as you shut the book, setting it on her nightstand. "What is it, kiddo?"
"Does this mean Mr. Seb is my dad?" She asks, leaving you stumped.
You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out how you'd answer her question. "Well, no. He's not your actual dad but you can look at him like your dad if you want."
She nods. "Do I keep calling him Mr. Seb?"
"Yeah, I would think so."
Seb was in a similar situation at his place, Milly had begged him to watch her favourite cartoon instead of story time and Seb caved. The two of them on the couch when she turns to her dad. "If Liv and I are sisters, does this mean auntie y/n is my mommy now?"
It takes him a second to register the question. He can't say yes, because Milly did see pictures of her actual mother, but it's also not a no.
"In a way, yes. She's not your mommy but you can look at her like your mommy, she'll always be there for you."
Milly seemed satisfied with her father's answer, nodding as she turned her attention back to the tv.
---
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ickypuppi3 · 29 days
Text
billy meets andy in fourth grade.
andy’s a year older than the rest of the class and doesn’t ever talk.
billy gets paired with him for a project and andy doesn’t move. billy stands up and calls his name but he still doesn’t turn around.
“andy’s deaf, billy.” ms. mackenzie tells him.
“oh.” billy’s eyes widen. he’s stumped, for a moment. “um. how do i…”
billy trails off. not sure what he wants to ask, exactly.
“just make sure he can read your lips.”
billy nods. he walks over to stand in front of andy and holds out a hand. like he sees adults do. andy raises his eyebrows but takes billy’s hand. shakes it. billy tells him his name and andy smiles.
andy’s taller than billy. most people are but billy still whales on anyone who makes fun of andy. billy’s small, sure. but he’s scrappy.
he’s sitting outside the principals office with mark p’s blood on his knuckles when andy walks past. billy pulls a face and andy laughs.
billy likes it when andy laughs.
andy uses sign language to talk to his sister and his aunt.
teaches billy, when he asks.
billy shows some of it to his mom. teaches her how to tuck her two middle fingers down, index and little finger pointed skyward and thumb sticking out.
“like this?” she asks, forehead creased in concentration.
“uh-huh.” billy smiles. puffs out his chest. proud. “it means ‘i love you.’”
billy’s walking andy home when andy points up at the stars dotting a purple sky. signs pretty. billy walks right into him when he suddenly stops walking.
andy catches billy when he stumbles.
sand shifts beneath billy’s feet as he leans up on his toes to kiss andy. it’s childish. a quick peck, awkward and clumsy. billy doesn’t really know why he did it but andy doesn’t frown or push billy away.
he smiles, instead.
signs pretty again and hugs billy tight.
billy’s mom leaves and neil loses his job. they move away and billy doesn’t see andy again. neil calls him words that didn’t exist in andy’s world.
when billy’s seventeen, neil packs up again. takes him, max and susan to hawkins. neil’s family. and billy.
billy locks eyes with steve harrington across the parking lot in september. gets on his knees and blows him in tina’s parents guest bathroom in october.
steve corners him in the showers after practice the next day. reopens the split on billy’s lip and gets blood all over his own.
they communicate with hands, mostly. grabbing, pushing, pulling. jerking each other off in the backseat of steve’s car. fists come in to play when billy finds steve in a house alone with a bunch of kids, max included.
billy’s bruises are somehow worse a week later and steve tells him to come over that evening. doesn’t ask. just tells.
billy sneers. spits and swears at steve.
rocks on his heels as he waits on the harrington’s doorstep at 9:15.
“you’re late.” steve says.
billy doesn’t say anything. doesn’t need to.
something changes after that. steve fucks billy in his plaid nightmare of a room and drags him to the bathroom to dab at his cuts and scrapes right after.
brushes the backs of his knuckles across bruised ribs and frowns.
billy tugs at his hair and brings their lips together. almost gentle.
it’s too fragile for a name, whatever they have.
it’s summer when billy first mentions andy. billy’s sitting on steve’s bed and steve’s looking at him in the way that he does whenever billy reveals a part of himself. eager to soak it up and bask in it.
billy shows steve how to sign his name. how to say please and thank you, bitch and motherfucker.
“what’s-” steve’s hair has fallen over his forehead and billy reaches out to brush it back. unthinking. “what’s ‘i love you’?”
billy freezes.
his heart pounds. they haven’t- they don’t-
“you sweet on someone, harrington?” teasing is easy and billy’s a coward.
“oh, you know.” steve shrugs and it would be casual if he wasn’t looking at billy like that. “kinda.”
“yeah?” billy looks away. focuses on steve’s boxers which billy knows have been in that exact spot on the floor for the last three days. “anyone i know?”
“you might.”
billy shakes his head, grins. “hot?” he asks.
steve just nods, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he edges his fingers towards billy’s on the comforter until they’re intertwined.
billy opens his mouth but steve leans forward and kisses the next smart ass response right off of his lips. winds long fingers into his hair and steals billy’s breath away.
makes his stomach do flips in that way that only steve can.
billy leaves with a smile on his face.
something crashes into his car on the drive back and everything goes dark.
five months, a ‘mall fire’, a shadow monster and seemingly endless hours stuck in a hospital bed later, billy finds himself in a house straight out of texas chainsaw, standing next to max as everyone debates on what to do next.
billy keeps quiet. doesn’t have much to say these days. he bites at his lower lip before looking across the room at steve.
steve smiles at him. something small and private.
everyone’s talking, no one’s paying attention to them.
steve raises his right hand. tucks his two middle fingers down and points the other two toward the ceiling, thumb sticking out.
billy’s cheeks flush and his heart pounds.
thinks it might jump right out of his chest if he isn’t careful.
his stomach does somersaults and he vows that if they get out of this, he’ll tell steve.
he’ll tell him.
for now he raises his left hand. two fingers down, two up, thumb out.
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half-oz-eddie · 2 months
Text
🎁 ❤️
Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better. 
But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk. 
She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it. 
“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her. 
She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there. 
“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered. 
He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.” 
Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy. 
It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely. 
“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”
He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down. 
“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned. 
“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”
Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down. 
“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked. 
“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“
“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”
“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”
“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.
“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”
“You stabbed me with a needle.”
“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”
Max smiled.  “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”
She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.
It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch. 
This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them. 
She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.
He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.
“Nobody’s home?”
“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”
Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday. 
Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.
“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”
Billy glared at Max as she started eating. 
“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.
Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.” 
They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.
Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.
She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.
“C’mon.”
“Where’re we going?”
“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”
Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.
The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.
To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.
They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery. 
“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk. 
“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”
“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”
Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”
Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”
“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.
Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.
“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”
“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”
Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“
“Is that what made you so upset?”
“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”
“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“
“So he’s just the opposite of me.”
“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”
Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”
“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”
“When is it again? April…may…tember…”
“July.” She snapped.
Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”
“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”
“And?”
Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“
“You’d what?”
Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.
“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”
Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind. 
When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.
The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.
“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”
“And I get to pick the movie?”
Max groaned. “Fine.”
“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”
“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”
The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.
‘Maybe I should thank him too…’
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girlbossblackbeard · 10 months
Text
THOUGHTS AND LAYERS
i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:
-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:
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he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach
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then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)
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and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself
-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)
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-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard
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and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:
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-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -
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makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him
-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)
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soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day
-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):
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a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??
-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint
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-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?
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-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????
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-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ
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-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)
-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen
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-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)
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which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)
-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer
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makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)
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-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping
-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??
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-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)
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does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:
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but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??
-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season
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-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):
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and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
After the almost end of the world, Steve tells Eddie that he can have a shower first.
It feels surreal that they’ve both made it here—that Eddie is standing in his hallway, leaving mud stains on the floor from his boots: remnants of The Upside Down mixed with normal dirt.
Steve almost wants to ask if he can walk around some more, create countless marks as proof of his existence; hell, even take his hand and run it down the beige walls.
Leave a trail, Steve thinks, through a fog of complete and utter exhaustion. So I know it’s real. So I can find my way back to you.
What he says instead is, “Try not to get your dressings wet.”
Eddie pauses on the stairs. Smiles. “Okay, nurse,” he says, and it’s a gentle tease if anything, his voice softened by tiredness.
He’s holding himself a little stiffly while turned to speak, his upper body almost at an angle.
Steve thinks about the jagged line down his side (“If the bats died, like, ten seconds later, you’d have—you asshole,” Dustin had rambled through tears, thumping Eddie on the arm); how Eddie had narrowly avoided a hospital stay. Thinks of the way Eddie tried to reassure Dustin, fiddling with the guitar pick hanging around his neck in a show of nonchalance—but Steve still saw how his hand shook.
“Guess I’m just a lucky son of a bitch, huh, Henderson?”
It shouldn’t have been luck; it should have been a guarantee. Steve should have ensured it.
Eddie makes his way upstairs with slow, heavy footsteps. Steve waits until he can hear the water running, then heads to the phone.
He’s used to this routine by now. Robin and Nancy first, as he knows they’ll pick up rather than their parents.
“Oh, thank god,” Robin had said when she answered the phone after Starcourt. “I thought it was a horrible dream.”
“Thank god?” Steve echoed, laughing.
“Yeah,” Robin said, quite seriously. “It was either I dreamed up everything alone, or we saw it all together.”
And Steve, touched beyond words, had called her a dingus instead.
Tonight, their phone call is much quieter.
“I’m home,” Robin says. “I love you.”
Steve’s hand clenches around the phone. “Love you too,” he whispers, and he ignores the warning sting in his eyes, because he doesn’t have time to—he still has so much left to…
“I’m home,” Nancy says. She adds, “Get some sleep, Steve,” in the fatigued tones of someone who will not be taking their own advice.
Eddie comes downstairs sometime during Steve’s phone call with Mr and Mrs Sinclair. He’s quiet; the only sign that alerts Steve to his presence is the faint smell of mint body wash.
When Steve hangs up, he has to take a breath, still clinging to the phone pointlessly.
“What are you doing?” Eddie asks quietly.
Steve breathes out. “Checking in,” he says.
He dials another number.
It began after Starcourt, the Sinclairs having bought the excuse that Steve had been trapped with Erica in a broken down elevator as the ‘fire’ began—technically true, Steve had thought, just in the wrong order.
Their conversation had been all anxious tones, all, You were there, Steve, what exactly…? Should we be worried that…?
And he gets good at it, at bridging the gap between worlds: keeping the full truth from parents, but giving them just enough information, little things that go beyond the surface level cover story, that somehow help put their mind at ease—cultivating the sense that Steve is the witness, the one being honest with them.
Christ, he’s tired.
The call with Max’s mom is hard. She’s still at the hospital, and technically there’s nothing to really worry about (Max’s arm had a clean break), but that doesn’t change how it all felt, how she shook with pained sobs as Steve tucked her into his side.
“She’s sleeping now. She said you were with her,” Susan tells him, voice low. “Steve, I’m—I’m so grateful.”
But I wasn’t, Steve thinks. Not when it mattered.
He doesn’t realise that he’s still holding the phone after the call has ended until Eddie takes it from him and puts it back in the cradle.
“Hey, can I, uh, use the phone? Wanna call my uncle,” Eddie says.
Steve doesn’t mention the fact that Eddie has already spoken with his uncle, that Steve had overheard him fighting tears in the hospital as he called the plant where his uncle was still working: because even the earthquake-like rumble felt all over town as Henry Creel died wasn’t enough of an excuse to warrant clocking out early.
“Pretend I’m s-someone else calling,” Eddie had whispered, his voice breaking. “Wayne, I-I’m okay. Got stitches, but I’m okay. Fuck. I love you.”
And Steve tried not to think about how it could’ve so easily been him making the call, telling Wayne Munson that his nephew will never come home again.
Eddie pauses, hand hovering over the phone. Then he twirls his index finger in a little circle: turn around.
Steve does. Can’t find the energy to smile.
“Shower,” Eddie says, then taps him very gently on the back, once, twice, like he’s saying off you go.
Steve manages to twist his body so his own fresh bandages don’t get wet, carefully tilting the shower head away from them. He methodically washes away the dirt; the heat of the water is welcome, but it also seems to weigh down his limbs with every drop.
When he goes back downstairs, Eddie is on the phone. He keeps repeating vague little mm-hmm sounds, and Steve somehow is sure that he isn’t on the phone to his uncle.
“Yeah,” Eddie says as Steve approaches. “Yeah, he’s here.”
There’s a little side table next to the phone; Eddie reaches for the notepad, scribbles, then turns it round so Steve can see.
Dustin’s mom
And Steve…
He knows he should talk to her. He knows Claudia will no doubt have questions, even if Dustin’s probably already given his own half-baked explanation about how he hurt his leg—“It’s just a sprain,” he’d insisted, even as Steve hoisted him up, took all of his weight.
The right thing to do, surely, is take the phone from Eddie.
But Steve suddenly can’t bring himself to even lift his hand for it. He feels drained, feels vulnerable and exposed after the shower—that along with the grime being lifted from his skin, it’s also left his stupidly fragile, exhausted heart on show.
Eddie’s eyes flicker over his face like he can see it, see everything, and without so much as an awkward pause, he murmurs into the receiver, “He’s tired. Yeah, he’s—he’s okay. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
He hesitates for a moment, a fleeting sheen to his eyes, and then he says, “Thank you. Goodnight, Mrs Henderson.” Another little pause. He smiles, adds, “Goodnight, Claudia,” and hangs up the phone.
“Is she… okay?” Steve asks. “What did she—is Dustin—”
“All good,” Eddie says. “She was just… checking in.”
The checking you were okay goes unsaid, but Steve can still hear it.
It weighs him down like the shower had done. He doesn’t register that he crosses through to the living room, just knows that he’s suddenly sinking down onto the arm of the couch, that Eddie is sitting next to him.
Steve doesn’t consciously decide to speak, the words tumbling out of him like it’s inevitable.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mumbles.
He can practically hear Eddie frantically trying to make sense of what he’s said.
“Well, yeah, no plan’s gonna go perfectly, man, that’d be—but, hey, we fuckin’ made it, we—”
But Steve is shaking his head. “No, I… I thought I’d figured it out, I—”
He doesn’t know how to explain it; it’s too much to…
It’s something too big to put into words.
The fact that, as Nancy relayed each phase of the plan, he had listened closely, only agreed because at least he was in the group that would be closest to the ‘blast zone.’
That he’d hated leaving Lucas, Max and Erica alone, but had tried to reassure himself that at least they weren’t in The Upside Down.
That once Dustin knew where Steve was going, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that he’d follow him to The Upside Down no matter what.
And, honestly, Steve would’ve preferred Eddie not getting dragged into this bullshit for any longer than he needed to be—that if it was feasible, Steve would’ve just told him to take the RV and run.
But Steve had seen how he was with Dustin, roughhousing in the grass. Knew that where Dustin went, Eddie would follow, too—a shield in his hand.
And Steve also knew something along those lines was true for him and Robin: that if he thought he could get away with it, he would’ve told her to watch over the kids at the Creel House, but knew she’d choose to be with him.
That all he could feel about going into Henry Creel’s lair himself was relief—not because he thought he was an essential part in all of this, but because he just…
He needed to be there. Just in case.
Because there was a look in Nancy’s eyes that terrified him. It said that if she had to, she’d die with Henry Creel, so long as it would all be over, so long as Barb would be avenged.
Out loud, all he can say is, “It… it was too close.”
“Steve,” Eddie says. “No-one got—”
“You’re not listening,” Steve says, and there’s a scream in his throat begging to be released; he doesn’t let it go. “It was too—I almost—almost had to—”
“Steve.”
“S-someone’s gotta call home,” Steve goes on. “And I—fuck, I was so scared I’d h-have to—to tell them that—”
“Steve,” Eddie whispers.
“But I-I would’ve,” Steve says. His voice cracks. “I couldn’t have just—they would’ve got a-answers, I would’ve—”
“I know,” Eddie says softly, and he’s got a hand in Steve’s hair suddenly, guiding him to his shoulder. “I know you’d—hey, I’ve got you. I know.”
The first sob, when it starts, hurts—feels like it comes straight from his stomach. Eddie holds him through it, almost like he’s afraid Steve might drift away to some unreachable place.
“I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
When it’s over, when Steve gives a final, shuddering breath against Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs into his hair, “S’too late for any more phone calls, Steve. C’mon. Show me where to sleep?”
It’s not even all that big of a thing, when Steve leads Eddie to his bedroom, lies down on the farthest side of the bed. Leaves deliberate space.
“You don’t have to—there’s a guest room,” Steve says, tongue thick with exhaustion. “Don’t wanna—kinda worried I’ll hit your dressings in my sleep.”
Eddie looks at him from the doorway. “You’ve been patched up too, Steve,” he points out.
Steve shrugs.
Eddie steps into the room. “It’ll be fine,” he says, smiling. “We’ll both be gentle, huh?”
Steve nods through a yawn. When Eddie makes to shut the door, he says, “Don’t, leave it open. Just—just in case the phone… I’ll sleep right through it otherwise.”
Eddie’s still touching the door handle. “D’you trust me?”
Steve’s eyes keep closing against his will. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I trust you.”
Eddie shuts the door so quietly that it barely makes a sound. “Okay. ‘Cause I have, like, freakishly good hearing.” Through his lashes, Steve sees Eddie smirk wryly. “Like a bat.”
Steve thinks he makes a noise of acknowledgement—isn’t quite sure as his eyes have closed.
He feels Eddie lie down next to him, feels the covers being drawn up.
“I’ll hear the phone,” Eddie says. “I’ll answer it, ‘kay? I’ll come wake you up, if I need to.”
A gentle hand on Steve’s forearm.
“Promise,” Eddie says.
Steve breathes in. Out.
“Okay,” he replies, and he falls asleep completely: not needing to stay half-awake, not needing to pick up the phone—not needing to do anything at all.
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hippielittlemetalhead · 6 months
Text
So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!
What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)
You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.
So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)
He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)
He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.
Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)
He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.
And maybe before that would have been enough.
He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"
He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.
"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."
By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.
"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."
Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.
"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."
"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.
He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?
Part 3
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