#Threshold Kiddies

[voyagerihardlyknowher]

I'm not sure if you guys were still taking requests but if you were ever inclined to draw like the threshold kiddos in Christmas outfits or just Christmas hats, or all stuffed in a giant stocking... I would die of excitement

If they're not careful they're gonna enter brumation if they get too cold lmaoooooo.

Kathryn probably knitted lil baby Liam's entire ensemble of hat gloves and scarf,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, maybe she's projecting the command red a little bit.

[ms-demeanor]

i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny/Tim, Blue, Tooty Fruity

@ailithnight Prompt fill #4. Feel free to continue this if you want! I was going to add more, but no, not, this is best right here.

-

Tim stops on the threshold to his apartment. His fingers tighten on the doorknob. Slowly, he leans back enough on his heels to to glance at the unit number by the door. Alright, yes, right apartment. He glances back into apartment. Back to the unit number.

Still the right number.

Tim is at his apartment, by all accounts. He shouldn’t have this much doubt. It’s just that… well, the apartment looks like a high school theater set for Gilligan island threw up in it. There are broad leaf plants framing the door and effectively hiding the sleek, modern kitchen to the left. Tan, sand colored drop cloths cover the floor along with a scattering of plastic sea shells. A large hammock hangs in the center of the room and there are colorful beanbags to the side. (Tim wasn’t sure where his real furniture was). The back wall is covered by a questionably painted landscape. The focal point is the volcano that leads up to the TV, mounted over the mantel, that’s playing a video of rising smoke over a tropical sunset. There are ocean noises.

He’s pretty sure he sees the edge of a plastic kiddy pool behind a bird of paradise.

His boyfriend appearing from behind the plants in nothing but by very small, very green speedo and a fabric flower lei doesn’t help Tim’s understanding in the least.

Danny’s face lights up with a smile though. “Tim! Aloha! Welcome to your topical vacation!”

What?

“What?”

[baylardian-1]

season 3 janeway hanging out with her kiddies more is a big fave era of the AU for meeeeeeeee <3 she's awkward at it but she's trying :')

Resolutions and Basics happen and it's the beginning of a shift for her in feeling like she actually wants to be a mother. It's a slow burn up through Coda which conveniently shares an anniversary with Threshold = their first birthday, seeing what she's missing (though the alien in Coda would probably try to frame it in her mind as being like "they're going to be fine without you" but she'd see it and be like "im missing these moments with them :(" and afterwords she'd finally make the decision to be more involved in their lives.

[eccentricgrace]

Little Worrier || IronDad

summary: peter can't place why he's anxious, just that something is wrong, and he needs to get out of the crowd.

tags: anxiety, panic attacks, protective tony stark, spidey senses, ceiling collapse, mentions of the vulture parking garage incident of 2017, stark industries business venturesTM

wc: 1,413

cross-posted to wattpad by the same name!

They're at an event; him, Tony, and some of the other interns. Some grand conference. Peter didn't really read the invitation, he just goes when Tony asks.

He can't tell what exactly it is, but ever since he stepped in, his whole stomach rocked with anxiety. He places his bets on the people. The place is packed, crowded wall to wall with bodies, every step he takes has him brushing shoulders with someone else. He consciously makes an effort to press closer to Tony as they enter the threshold.

"You good?" Tony asks under his breath.

Peter nods, his mouth pressed in a tight line. His heart is racing in his chest, so he takes a breath. This was the uncomfortable part of being Spider-Man— the stuff Peter Parker has to deal with in his stead. The baseless anxiety. Annoying.

And he spends the next twenty minutes trying really hard to get over it, the needless lack of breath, the way his skin was buzzing, his head felt fuzzy. Not good.

People keep bumping into him, and his stomach is starting to turn, and his ears are doing the thing they do when there's so much sound that it starts layering in weird ways—

Peter's half-listening to Tony talk about the principles of glass to a scientist, a really nice one works that works in one of the lower levels, when it just becomes unbearable. The panic is revving up faster than he can control it. He discreetly nudges Tony's shoulder and tries not to cringe at the touch.

Tony looks over immediately and ducks his head toward him. His eyebrows crease in concern as he scans over him rapidly. Always assessing for the problem, and then like magic—

"Let's take a break," Tony says decisively. He hovers a hand over Peter's shoulder, a silent question. They do this, sometimes, this non-colloquial back-and-forth thing. Peter gives him a slight nod, so Tony drops his hand and gently leads them out of the crowd.

"Outside, or bathroom?"

The nice way of asking, fresh air or a clean place to throw up?

"Bathroom," Peter answers, his voice cracking. His stomach is still turning and twisting itself in knots and he'd rather not take chances.

Tony nods casually. He turns down the hall, pushes the door open and leads them in. He crouches down and scans the floor. "Hey, good news. Nobody's in here, kiddie."

Peter makes an appreciative noise and slides his back down the wall, sitting on the grimy tile floor. Puts his head in his hands and breathes. "This sucks."

"The fourth-rate venue? I agree. This place looks like it needs a crime-scene-level deep-clean."

Peter smiles, and then gets hit with another wave of nausea. He sighs, the temporary humour draining out of him.

Tony sits next to him with a groan, his joints popping uncomfortably. "Sorry, Underoos. I wish there was a cure for all that brain junk we have to put up with, but... well, I don't know. Maybe I'll find something, someday. Add it to my to-do list."

"Mrgh," Peter says helpfully. He tries to calm himself down. Tony's presence is helping. He's got this steadiness to him, unwavering, always. He doesn't seem to ever be afraid, ever, even when Peter's world feels like it's tilting on its axis.

Tony stands up, and Peter feels unsteady again. A boat without an anchor. He wants to open his mouth and ask him to sit back down again— but he can't find the words, and he feels like his stomach will finally betray him if he even tries to part his lips.

Then something happens.

His senses buzz, a wave of sensation ricocheting through his nerves. He jerks up, scrambling his legs to grab Tony, to lurch him back. A panel of the ceiling falls, landing on the floor with a thud and kicking up dust and dirt.

"Well, there you go," Tony says with a tired sigh, kicking the panel with his foot. "Look at that, isn't that nice."

It's weird, because it's really not even that big of a deal. Buildings fall apart, especially old ones. Pieces break and brittle, and that doesn't mean it's the whole building that will come crashing down. He knows that.

He knows that, but somehow, he can't breathe.

No, he can't breathe, and that's not even the worst part— because suddenly he needs to get out of here, because if one panel could come down, then maybe all of them could, and—

"Nearly getting decapitated by a loose—"

"We've gotta go," Peter says, his legs shaking. "We gotta get out of here, seriously. Come on, we have to go."

"Woah, hey. Slow down," Tony holds his hands up. "Kid, take a breath. What's going on?"

"What's going— the building's about to fall apart, it's not safe! A piece of the whole ceiling nearly hit you," Peter rattles off, talking a mile a minute. "I mean, I could have missed it, and you could have hit your head."

"Then I would have hit my head," Tony shrugs. "Not a big deal. It happens. Pretty sure getting thocked upside the head by Dum-E hurts a little more than a... flimsy... plaster board."

Peter shakes his head, and keeps shaking his head. "No, I've— the ceiling isn't sturdy, if it caves in I can't— I can't hold up another building, I'll—"

"Peter," Tony cocks his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "What do you mean another? What are you— alright, it doesn't matter. Let's go outside, get you some air."

Always a good plan from Tony. The older man starts leading him out of the bathroom and out to the fire escape, further down the hallway, and Peter finds himself talking in a panicked flurry the whole way there.

"When we walked in I counted thirty support pillars, and about four exits, five including the fire exit," Peter recites, stumbling down the hall.

"Jesus," Tony mutters. He nudges the door open with his elbow and walks both of them outside. "I'm picking up a lot of things from you right now and I'm not sure I'm liking the picture they're making."

Peter shook his head vehemently. "I don't wanna talk about it. Not now."

Tony sighs, but seems to understand— which is a relief. They don't normally talk about this stuff, and they definitely don't have a habit of asking each other about it. 

It's kind of an unspoken rule— dark things are only talked about in the dark.  They learn bits and pieces about each other during middle-of-the-night phone calls or late nights in the lab that turn into early mornings, both of them too tired and comfortable to care about what they're sharing. 

Anyways, the fresh air is helping. Peter feels the weight in his head lessen enough where he's able to process how much of what he's feeling is actual spider-sense anxiety and what's just the normal kind. 

Tony sits beside him and starts talking while he breathes through the dwindling nausea. Little stuff, always allowing an entry if or when Peter felt comfortable enough to be human again. 

"We could watch that clone show," he says offhandedly. "The animated one you like. I think we stopped on the second episode last time, but that was a while ago, so you'll have to fill me in on what I forgot. I'm all old now, so the brain gets foggy. If you don't fill me in, it's basically elder abuse. Just so you know."

At the silent response of a quip being left wide open, Tony looks over at him. "Not feeling any better?"

"I feel better," Peter says quiet, defeated. "I just hate that I get like this sometimes. I'm Spider-Man, you know? I have to be better. Think clearer."

Tony shrugs, loosely hanging an arm over his shoulder's. "Maybe. But you're also, like, sixteen? Seventeen? God, you're growing up fast. The point is, you're still young now, and you've been through a lot of shit. It's going to take some time before all of that is just a passing thought."

Peter bites back an argument. 

"I know," Tony affirms, rolling his eyes. "You think I was fine and dandy coming back from Afghanistan? That took me years. Then the whole thing in 2012 took me even longer."

"Right," Peter says with a sigh.

Tony shakes him a bit, his eyes going earnest. "Hey. You're doing good, Peter. Seriously. I'm proud of you."

Peter nods, looking down. "Are we going back in?"

"Mmm, no," Tony says, scratching his chin. "I think I'm in the mood for donuts."

With that, the faintest hint of a smile makes its way to Peter's face— and Tony beams.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP, hi!

I've seen so many ARMYs mad and confused about JK talking non stop about Jimin during his lives. Jimin on the other hand never mentions JK (I mean recently). I really do not care even if they're married and have kids. But do you think it is safe for JK to draw so much attention to their possible relationship? I'm probably just paranoid, because SK is such a narrow minded country and what if something happens to them?

Am I being paranoid?

***

Are you being paranoid?

…kinda? I mean, for a lot of people, there’s a lot of daylight between talking a lot about your bandmate, gushing incessantly about a guy you’ve publicly called a dear friend for 10 years, and definitively coming out as being in a relationship with him. The reason I feel jikook are a thing is because of that quirk of that relationship plus a history of brow-raising behaviours that is most consistent with them relative to any other pairing.

But looking at it in isolation? Nah.

Some people might be confused because they feel JK’s behaviour with Jimin is unexpected, but most ARMYs I’ve seen already feel that jikook are very close (after hickeygate even the people most in denial about how close jikook are, had to rethink), and so they are more than happy to file away ‘JK fixating on Jimin during his lives recently’, into the ‘sus bro’ things jikook do without digging more into it, for whatever reason. JK can keep doing what he’s doing because most people in the fandom have determined that an official announcement or coming out is the threshold for allowing themselves to think of the members as being in relationships. Queer and not. It’s a bit silly, but I suppose in an effort to be respectful, people try to err on the side of caution by viewing all their actions through a kiddy, harmless, fraternal lens until explicitly told otherwise.

So yeah, I’d say you’re being kinda paranoid.

Then again, if you’re in a space where people are actually “mad” at Jungkook talking a lot about Jimin, then you’re probably in a space filled with solo stans / antis or rival shippers trying to mask, or homophobes looking for an outlet for that prejudice and anger. In which case, then I don’t think you’re being paranoid at all.

In fact, I’m nearly certain the second pattern you’ve noticed, of Jimin not mentioning JK to the same frequency (yet), only adds more salt to injury for them. Rival shippers and homophobes (especially closeted ones) are groups of people primed to see what we see, they just hate it. Lol. So JK going out of his way almost every Wlive to talk about Jimin or focus on him in some way, when the dominant narrative in rival shipping circles is that Jimin’s affection for JK is one-sided in the best case, or only fanservice in the worst - their narratives are being rubbished by the head joker himself. Effortlessly, spectacularly, and publicly rubbished to filth. Even the most delusional jikook anti has to feel a smidgen of embarrassment watching a JK live where he gushes about Jimin. It’s a shame these groups of people typically aren’t emotionally mature, because where a well-adjusted person would channel that embarrassment into rethinking their narratives, these groups of people seek only to lash out and punish the object of their obsession: Jimin.

And for the other Anon who asked me a few months ago about why taekookers/rival shippers and their solo stan peers are obsessed with Jimin, here’s your answer. Well, here’s one reason why:

They can tell Jimin is the obsession of the person they obsess over. They watch Jungkook too closely, too obsessively, to miss it. They can see how much Jungkook loves Jimin. And because they suffer from the illness of wanting a celebrity they obsess over to love them to the same degree, they hate the object receiving the love that in their minds is owed to them, or to someone they can easily self-insert as.

If you’re in a space filled with people like that I’m sorry to say but it’s a wasteland of lunacy. Get out. Flee. Pack up your skirts and run for the hills. Do it for your sanity, your hairline, and your internet service bills.

So yeah, there’s some risk people who are “mad” at JK, as you say, for talking about Jimin, could out them in a malicious detrimental way. You’re not paranoid about that. But I think that risk is small because people like this are ultimately cowards. Lol. They’re a bit insane yes but don’t have the guts to commit to doing any real damage outside of their tiny online spaces. So when you see people like that, I suggest you clean up the filth by reporting and blocking.

We’ll all be fine in the end. :)

[find-roronoa-zoro]

Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader

5

A small crowd had gathered in the living room to watch your second round against Kid and his friend Killer. You and Zoro had switched sides after being accused of cheating. Apparently they thought there was a slant to the hardwood flooring.

You were quickly winning this round. Hopefully it would be over soon because you were starting to feel it. They may not have won but they sank enough balls and you missed enough shots to have to down a fourth of the bottle of tequila. Zoro could certainly handle his booze. You were starting to sway while he seemed unfazed.

Kid stood across from you squinting obviously concentrating on his next target.

"C'mon Kiddy, shoot already." you slurred, "you'd think from that freakish height you'd have no problem."

"Shut up." he snapped chunking the ball straight at you.

It bounced off your face with such force that it flattened one side.

"Kid," Killer murmured.

Before anyone could react you lunged for the redhead. Just as you reached him he placed his hand on your chest shoving you back into the table breaking it drenching you in beer.

"That's my sister!" Luffy shouted.

You couldn't move from the pile of cups and splintered wood, everything was whirling and the air had been knocked from your lungs. Attempting to blink the room still you caught sight of Zoro leaning over you.

"Are you ok?" he asked gently scooping you up.

"Been.... worse." you wheezed.

"Someone had to shut the bitch up." you heard Kid holler.

A low growl rumbled through the chest you were leaning against, his gaze sharpening on the redhead that was trying to fend off Luffy and Ace. Suddenly without a word you were handed off to Marco. You could hear the thud of fists making contact with firm bodies as the shouting in the room grew louder. Someone quickly began taking bets. Killer and Thatch could be heard trying to break up the fight.

"You ok, yoi?" your brother asked glancing down at you.

Now that you'd had a few moments to process, "My back ... actually...hurts pretty... bad." you took a few sharp breaths as the pain shot up and down your spine.

"Smoker is coming!" someone shouted.

"Thatch," the blonde called, "grab those two. I'm taking F/N to the ER, yoi."

"Is she ok?" the brunette asked.

"Hurt her back." was all Marco said kicking the screen door open.

The cool night air blasted you in the face sending waves of goosebumps over your flesh almost instantly sobering you up.

"W-wait!" you stammered, "I-I'm soaked in beer."

"With maybe a fucked up spine, yoi. Just shut up." he laid you across the back seat of Thatch's car.

Because of the nature of your potential injury instead of being put in a wheelchair and entering with some dignity, they came out and back boarded you in the ER parking lot.

A few hours, an X-ray and a thorough examination later you left the hospital with a bruised tail bone, four bruised and one chipped vertebrae and a bottle of Vicodin. The sun was rising as Marco pulled into the drive. Thatch was waiting outside to help you in.

"The guys are still cleaning up." the brunette murmured gently guiding you over the threshold, "Think you can make it to your room?"

"Couch please!" you chimed merrily drifting on your painkiller high.

"Can someone get F/N's blanket and pillows?" he called, "on second thought, do you think you can handle a shower?"

"Ah, yeah I feel gross." you agreed still sticky from all of the spilt alcohol.

Thatch took you to Pops' bathroom so you could use the shower chair. While you were doing that he made a bed for you on the sofa and brought some of your clothes downstairs.

"Thank you Thatchy, you're such a great mom." you chuckled as he lowered you onto the sofa which was overflowing with pillows and blankets.

"Call me if you need something, ok?"

"Yessir."

The silence that had settled in was interrupted by soft footfalls, "Marco said you would need these."

You glanced over at your beer pong partner holding your painkillers and a bottle of water. His knuckles were covered in dried blood and his beautiful face had not been spared either. A black eye, busted cheek, brow and lip were just a few injuries you could see in the dimly lit room.

"There's a first aid kit in the hallway cupboard, can you go get it please?" you shifted turning on the lamp on the on table next to you.

He disappeared down the hall and returned with the medium sized white box. You patted the space in front of you and motioned for him to take a seat as you opened the box. Zoro swallowed and did as you wordlessly asked.

"You guys didn't even bother to clean each other up?" you asked breaking the capsule inside a cold pack and shaking it, "hold this on your eye for a bit, it might be too late to stop the swelling."

"We were busy cleaning." he reminded you, "Thatch didn't want the old man to see how big of a mess we made."

"Hah, yeah I'm sure we're in for a scolding." you gently tipped his chin and began dabbing an alcohol swab against his busted lip.

He hissed and flinched at the stinging briefly removing the compress to glare at you. Ignoring his protest you squeezed a small amount of ointment into your finger and dabbed it over his lip. He flushed lightly hoping you wouldn't notice.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" he murmured still watching your every move.

"I'm fine." you smiled softly increasing his pulse, "My brother's may be fine letting you walk around with a busted up face but I just can't."

You moved on to the next cut this time placing a couple of steri-strips over it. He pressed the compress over his eye again to keep from staring.

"It was pretty impressive, how you jumped at Kid like that," he chuckled, "what were you even planning to do?"

"I grew up with these guys, after a while their idiocy wears off on you so be careful." you tapped his nose, "I had every intention of punching him in the mouth."

You blushed watching an amused smile play across his lips.

God, he really was too handsome.

He was totally impressed with your unwillingness to cower away, he figured even now if Kid were there you'd make a second attempt.

You quietly moved the compress away from his eye and tilted his head to make sure you'd cleaned every nic and cut. He tried to ignore your proximity and the sudden urge to close in that space.

"All done." you smiled releasing his chin.

He blinked, "Ah yeah I should get going."

"Don't be ridiculous." you shifted grabbing a pillow and blanket, "That chair reclines."

Taking your blanket and pillow he made himself comfortable in the recliner at the foot of the sofa. Your eyes lingered on him after you switched the light off and settled back into your make shift bed.

"F/N?" he murmured.

You hummed.

"Thanks."

[niishii]

haunted adventures with you—ft. haikyuu boys

summary; the boys go through a haunted house with you

warnings; just fluff

song; calling all the monsters -by thriii

*header images do not belong to me

author's note; happy fall!

"Heart thumps and you jump, coming down with goosebumps..."

"Shoyo...can we go through the haunted house?"

Asking Shoyo Hinata to go through a haunted house with you at the fall festival was a mistake. Of course, you were oblivious to the fact that he had been avoiding the haunted house all night. Between stuffing each other's faces with cotton candy and riding the same carnival rides countless times, you were unaware that a journey through the cheap haunted house was the last thing on Shoyo's mind.

"Sure, babe, let's check it out," he said, wanting to impress you. If there was anyone who would get scared, it was going to be you. At least that's what Hinata was banking on.

But, boy was he was wrong.

The moment you both stepped through the threshold and a man with a ski mask walked out with a chainsaw, the sound of your shrill-like scream was drowned out by a blood-curdling cry.

When he realized that he was the one screaming, Hinata looked at you and cleared his throat.

"What? He caught me off guard!" He said, waving his arms around as if to try and convince the entire haunted house that his scream was justified. You could only laugh and grab his hand before pulling him through the rest of the haunted maze.

The rest of the walk through the haunted house consisted of you and Hinata holding onto each other tightly as you both were in search of the exit.

Yeah, you both were never doing that again.

"You stayed in too late, to be getting afraid..."

"Hey, Toshi, can we check out the haunted house?"

Convincing Wakatoshi Ushijima to go in the haunted house with you took a lot more effort than you thought it would. It wasn't because he was scared (obviously) but it was more so because haunted houses weren't "his thing". In fact, the entire fall festival wasn't much of "his thing", but you managed to drag him on every single roller coaster and kiddie ride for the past three hours. And with every ride the two of you rode—even though he tried not to show it—you caught him smiling in enjoyment when he wasn't looking.

"I'll pass," he said, while juggling the giant teddy bear he won you from one of the carnival games; as well as two bundles of cotton candy. "I don't like haunted houses."

"Why? Are you scared?"

You both knew the answer to that question. If anything, the haunted house should've been scared of your boyfriend who stood over six feet tall and often wore a frown like his smile didn't exist.

Rolling his eyes, your gentle giant set aside the cotton candy and handed you your prize before taking you by the hand.

"Let's just get this over with. It's getting cold," he said.

You did your best to hide excitement as you gripped both the teddy bear and [insert first name's] hand. As you both walked past the creaky doors, a faceless man with long hair jumped out of the shadows, giving a guttural scream.

Just as you jumped and tucked yourself into your boyfriend's side out of surprise, you saw the haunted house actor fall to the ground. He was rubbing his head and peeling off his mask while muttering a bunch of expletives.

"Toshi!"

"Sorry," he said to you, seemingly embarrassed, though his expression made little difference to anyone but you. His lips were pursed, though his eyebrows were slightly raised as if he had seen a ghost. You and Ushijima took turns apologizing to the man.

The actor finally got to his feet, narrowing his eyes at both you and your boyfriend before he looked down at Ushijima's hand. "Whatever. Can I least have my chainsaw back?"

While holding in your laughter, you watched as your boyfriend handed the prop back to the actor who slid back into the shadows, muttering something about "not getting paid enough to do this". When he was gone, you hunched over and clutched your stomach as you laughed.

"I didn't know you were going to be this scared," You said once you were able to compose yourself. You clutched the large teddy bear in your arms and shook your head in amusement.

Rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time, he smiled slightly and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. "I wasn't scared," he said, pressing a kiss to your brow. "I was just trying to protect you. You're welcome."

This time, it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Whatever, Toshi."

And you for the remainder of the evening, you both wandered through the haunted house —you clutching onto your boyfriend's arm so he wouldn't accidentally injure another actor.

"Tetsu, let's go to the haunted house!"

"This scene's extreme, I'mma get you so scared..."

This man was a little too eager when you asked him to go with you through the haunted house. If anything, you were starting to regret asking him about it after he plastered on an overly confident smirk that was riddled with nothing but mischief.

"Heck, yeah. Let's go!"

It was too late for you to turn back now as he dragged you towards the entrance. You were skeptical knowing the haunted house would only boost his ego. You gripped onto his hand as you both entered the house. The floorboards creaked as you inched forward.

"You know you can hold onto me if you get scared, [your name]," he said, wriggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and shoved your boyfriend playfully, the action causing you let go of his hand.

"I'm not scared," You said, crossing your arms.

Amused by your overconfidence, Kuroo smirked. "Well, alright then. See you on the other side."

And like the childish boyfriend he was, he bet you to a race. The first one to get through the haunted house without so much as a scream was the winner. Of course you didn't have time to agree—or disagree—with this plan, because he was already walking down the hall.

You did your best to catch up, but he was already way ahead of you. You could hear his laugh echoing throughout the place as ghosts and skeletons popped out of nowhere.

After seconds of trying to find him, you ended up walking alone.

"Tetsu, this isn't funny. Wait for me," You said into the hallway that was lit with decorative skull lights. Crossing your arms you carried on, slightly annoyed that your boyfriend had left you to traverse through the haunted house alone.

The sudden cascade of creaking noises made you stiffen, but you did your best to ignore it. This was your first haunted house, and although it took a lot to scare you, that didn't mean you weren't at least jumpy from time to time. Stopping before another dark hallway, you looked around. Just as you looked over your shoulder, a set of arms grabbed you around the waist.

"Boo!"

You screamed as your boyfriend's laughter rang throughout the haunted house. It took you a moment to register that it was him, and when you finally did, you glared at him.

"That's not funny," You said, doing your best to hide your smile as you turned to face him.

"Yes, it is," he said, another laugh surfacing. "And since you screamed, you owe me a kiss."

Narrowing your eyes, you bit your tongue from protesting. As childish as he could be at times, you found it hard not to forgive him. Slowly, you rose on your tip toes and kissed his cheek. Before he could complain, you broke free as Kuroo, a pack of mummies, and ghouls chased you throughout the haunted house.

[baylardo]

Mmmm threshold au when do u think would be the first time kathryn has the kiddies all to herself 🤔🤔🤔 debatably what capacity as well hehe. I guess Resolutions is a somewhat obvious answer. In my head I’m thinking like,,, I guess when she WILLINGLY has all the babies to herself. Like I’d maybe have to look at some eps… I’m thinking season 3 scenarios where chakotay is on an away mission or something. Maybe Neelix and kes are occupied. Janeway somewhat reluctantly agreeing out of obligation to take them. Maybe by the point of doing it she’s wanting to test the waters to see if she can. Maybe she’s by this point having had spent more time with them, but nothing past visitation and chakotays always been there to help her through the motions. But like, her insisting chakotay go do something, she’ll take care of the babies, he’s a little hesitant to leave but wants to trust her with the responsibility, she wants to prove she can do it, but like maybe her sending him off is more like she feels bad and he needs a break and she’s terrified but wants to overcome her fears or whatever. Um but I can totally see her like, doing it, committing, but like maybe asking Tuvok for helpies. He’s been pretty ambivalent over everything with the warp 10 incident so relatively uninvolved for the most part. But Kathryn would maybe comm him to come down for advice on the triplets while chakotays away and swear him into secrecy that he won’t tell chakotay she asked for help and advice lol. Idk when babies stop crying a lot sporadically when they’re infants but maybe Kathryn would notice that, considering the last time she was around them for this long of a time was on New Earth.

[gnsaccountacy]

What is Kiddie Tax and How to Avoid It?

When it comes to taxes, children are typically in lower income tax brackets in the USA. That is why many wealthy parents would shift income-producing assets to their children’s names to avoid paying taxes at their top marginal tax rates, up to 37%. 

But the Tax Reform Act of 1986 changed it all. The new act requires a child’s unearned income above a specific threshold to be taxed at the parent’s tax rates. As a result, ‘Kiddie Tax’ was born.

Despite its sweet-sounding moniker, the “kiddie tax” is an often-misunderstood tax provision that can result in sizable income tax liability for your family. So, it is important to understand what kiddie tax is and how to avoid it.

If your child has an unearned income, it is a tax you should be aware of.

What is Kiddie Tax?

Kiddie Tax was introduced to deter wealthy parents from pushing certain incomes into their children’s lower tax rates. This tax provision has seen many revisions. As of 2023 kiddie tax rules, a minor’s unearned income typically includes:

Capital gains distribution 

Dividends

Interest income

Taxable scholarships

Income in custodial accounts under the Uniform Gifts to Minors Act (UGMA)

Income produced by gifts from grandparents

Under the current IRS rules for 2023, the unearned income threshold is $2,500 (up from $2,300 in 2022). The first $1,250 of a child’s unearned income is earned tax-free, and the next $1,250 is taxed at the child’s rate. Anything over $2,500 for 2023 is taxed at the parent’s tax rate instead of the child’s lower tax rate.

The child’s age is the most important factor in determining Kiddie Tax.

Kiddie Tax does not affect anyone age 24 or older at year-end. 

For those aged 19–23 at year-end, the tax can apply only if s/he is a full-time student for that year and his/her earned income (say from a part-time job) is ≤ 50% of his/her support.

A child age 18 or under at year-end is almost always exposed to Kiddie Tax if the child’s net unearned income surpasses the annual threshold.

The tax rules can be even more complicated if your child also has earned income. For more information, see IRS Publication 929 or consult an experienced tax advisor.

[syphabelnyades]

Made in Abyss for fandom ask!

This ended up being really long so it's under the cut.

3 male characters I love:

Reg, Marulk, and Habo!

3 female characters I love:

Riko, Nanachi, and Vueko~

3 romantic ships I love:

(I see all the kids' romance ships as being purely innocent and wholesome. Kids just learning their first loves and all that. That stuff melts my heart.)

Riko/Reg - just. Ugh. Little kid puppy crushes and just figuring out that oh my gosh I like a girl/guy! is adorable. I love in the intro when Riko jumps into Reg's arms and blushes. It's just so wholesome and pure!

Riko/Prushka - There was definitely some budding feelings between them, especially on Prushka's end. It's another kiddy puppy crush that has that inkling of sadness because of Prushka's fate but also the bound romance of the White Whistle.

Nat/Marulk - Their interactions in Marulk's Daily Life were so sweet! It's apparent that Nat had a bit of a thing for Riko, so him seemingly moving on and then also having feelings for Marulk was sweet. I just wonder how Marulk got to Orth, though?

3 platonic dynamics I love:

Riko/Nanachi/Reg - Full team!! I love their interactions with one another! Everyone plays off of each other so well.

Lyza/Ozen - Oh god Lyza talking to Ozen and telling her that she wants Ozen to see off Riko to send the girl off to Lyza... That really got to me.

Vueko/Belaf - Though we didn't get to see too much of them, what Belaf told Vueko about her dark eyes holding beauty and whatnot was very sweet. Vueko is such a tragic character that never really caught a break, and I think someone seeing beauty in her after her lifetime of abuse was something that was finally a thing of comfort to her.

3 favorite moments in canon:

The elevator scene. Masterfully done. Absolutely horrifying. Using Forest of the Abyss over Crucifixion was an excellent choice in editing. And Mitty promising she'll be strong for Nanachi... aaaa.....

Riko getting hit by the 4th Layer's curse is gut-wrenching. The juxtaposition of her staying calm while Reg is sobbing and and freaking out is the best/worst part. This is a 12 year old who's bleeding out and poisoned and telling her meek, shy friend to break her arm and cut it off, and somehow she's keeping calm... until the pain sets in. God. Riko has balls of steel to even keep herself together for any amount of time in that situation.

The start of Dawn of the Deep Soul, with the team meeting the Umbra Hand in the Garden of Eternal Fortune, is such a haunting experience. Something about the whole garden going up in flames with the soundtrack playing is incredibly impactful. The actual track that plays, Encounter the Umbra Hands, has this amazing swell of violins (?) around the 55 second mark that, sadly, got drowned out in the movie, but listening to it on its own gives me chills.

3 favorite headcanons:

I know Irumyuui's babies are modeled after hermit rats, but I still like my interpretation that they're also very toylike in appearance and that they represent her playing House, sort of.

...honestly, I don't have headcanons for this series, just theories.

3 least favorite things about it:

begging the mangaka to please be normal and not a creep please please i love everything about this show except him being like that. it's fictional, yeah, but i still feel dirty.

I wish Riko had more to do in the climaxes of S1 and S2. She was very active during DotDS but basically S1 and S2's endings involve Reg crying and blowing up some poor abused anime child while Riko is passed out.

This is more of a game thing but I wish Binary Star was just... better. It's very clearly a licensed game adaptation and it's fun, but not $60 worth of fun. I got it on sale for $30 and I surpassed my $1 an hour threshold, but I still feel like I got cheated a little. There's a lot of clunkiness in the game that I think would've been better if it was an original property. There's this one quote by Sakurai about how licensed games are more concerned with feeling like the source material rather than being a good game, and I think that applies here. At the very least, I wish the Ido Front area was expanded and we got to find a really cool big relic or two as part of a storyline.

[silverhearted-robin-hood]

( White Day 2023! )

"I know you have to go away for a while, Saph and while I would never try and stop you, I at least want you to take this before you go..."

In his hand are several little star charms, each bearing an adorable smiley face and beams of colour behind them - the stars themselves also vary in colour, to keep things fresh and fun.

"I want you to take these little guys with you and put 'em on a bracelet or a keychain or whatever you want - and when you come back, I want to see you with all of 'em and to tell me all about your adventures and..." He seems to pause shyly at this last part, cheeks going red as he leans in to whisper.

"...And catch up, of course."

Sapphire halted before he took one more step into the luminated portal. There was a sense of hesitation as he looked upon the sad but adorable farewell gift Ryuji handed over to him. Saph knew better than anyone that those fictionalized stories foretold in kiddie tales were a lot more real than this own world of Ryuji's realized. If possible, he would run towards Ryuji and stay in his arms. Although, his love for his people overshadowed any fear that resonated in him. He then takes the charms and hooks a few onto the locket that his mother had given to him as a child.

"Heh. Why when I get back, you goober? It doesn't have to be when I make it out of the dark tunnel. I can show you how it looks now!"

In the moment, Sapphire pretends that he's in that elegant ballroom, watching all of the faces of his people merrily sway to the sound of sweet music from the orchestra. He grabs Ryuji's hand and places his own behind the golden-haired deliquent's waist. Sapphire danced a little faster as the cadence of the imaginary music shifted to a more energetic mood. He probably looked very silly to Ryuji but he didn't care. This was a moment Sapphire wanted to last forever. He leans in for one final kiss.

{Come home, Sapphire....come home to wallow in your deceased mother's grave.}

"!?"

However, that would be short-lived; a voice whose words dripped with poison called out to Sapphire from beyond the portal. The gleeful atomsphere from just a few moments ago had completely been broken apart by the intrusion of darkness. He had to leave! Now. Before Duralumin's magic threatened Ryuji's the longer he stayed there. Sapphire allows his body to be levitated towards the magical threshold, with a hand outstretched towards Ryuji. A holy light shines through his fingertips, much like an angel guiding one to heaven.

"I--I have to leave! B-but Ryuji! Promise me you'll be standing in this exact same spot with two cups of celebratory ramen when I return! Promise me we'll do that, okay?"

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

Quantum Shenanigans

I’m the oldest of 7 children, but before the rest of the brood hatched, I was an only child, and had an imaginary friend to keep me company. His name was Jerry Narkovitch.

While Mum was in hospital, my paternal grandmother came to Tasmania from the mainland to look after me while Dad was at work. Grandma often heard about Jerry Narkovitch when he was blamed for my shenanigans. Who spilled the juice? I’d say; “Jerry Nakovitch did it!” Who changed the the telly from Grandma’s Mario Lanza movie to Warner Brothers cartoons while she made herself some tea? “Jerry Nakovitch!“ Having raised a long line of children herself, Grandma knew a fictitious scapegoat when she heard mention of one. However, she was unaware that this particular imaginary friend was unique, in that it had a flesh and blood alter ego. Yes, Jerry Narkovitch was actually a real kid, and the son of my parents’ friends. Which either shows that, at the age of 4:

(A) I grasped the quantum superposition of Jerry Narkovitch, and that he was both real and imaginary, depending on whether he was present & observable, or UNpresent & UNobservable (after all, it wasn’t long ago that I’d been 100% unpresent & unobservable myself).

OR

(B) I had an utter lack of imagination (with a side dish of laziness) as imaginary friends are typically 100% imagined by their child-creators. I’ll let the physicists (& psychiatrists) decide that one, but the important thing here is that Jerry Narkovitch was both real and imaginary. Schrodinger’s Pal.

One day Grandma was looking after me, sitting in our front room and reading the newspaper, while I played nearby at the open front door, excitedly jabbering at the imaginary Jerry Narkovitch. I heard the squeak of our front gate, and looked up to observe the real Jerry Narkovitch. In that instant, fantasy became fact, Toddler Metaphysics rotated, Quantum wave functions collapsed, Schrodinger’s box opened – and the real Jerry Narkovitch entered our front yard with his mother, carrying a meal she’d made for us. Grandma was still reading with her back to the door, as I eagerly brought the Narkovitchs across the threshold, yelling, “Jerry Nakovitch is here!” Grandma was by then thoroughly tired of hearing about this phantasm; “Oh, for God’s sake! You and your Jerry BLOODY Narkovitch!” as the boy himself (the real one) stood in the doorway with his mother (also very real) affronted by this singularly crotchety welcome..

When Grandma realized her faux pas, she hastily sent me outside to play with (the real) Jerry, as she apologised profusely to (the really outraged) Mrs Narkovitch, caulking cracked civilities with copious pots of tea & Iced VoVos, I expect. This is perhaps typical of memories of Grandma from my early years. She was irascible old thing, who could go from twinkle-eyed hilarity to clench-jawed crankiness very quickly. Tough on her own children, she softened as a grandmother, and I have fond memories of her from my early childhood, when she was often the comedic foil to unwitting toddler hijinks by myself.

Around this time (perhaps on this same visit) Grandma made it stridently clear that she didn’t approve of my moptop haircut – No siree – preferring the short back & sides that my mother abhorred. Grandma repeated her opinions on my kiddie coiffure so loudly & often that Dad asked her to keep them to herself. The word ‘cross-grained’ describes a contrarian and stubborn person, which fits all in the Baker clan to some degree, but none more-so than Grandma. She set her jaw.. and simply sneaked me to a barbershop for a buzzcut anyway. So there. Needless to say, this did not go over well with my parents.. As a tiny child, I was not able to decode adult showdowns, and blissfully unaware that I was the political football in a few, so other peoples’ retellings are what I remember of these, rather than my own memories.

The episodes I actually DO remember myself, and fondly, often involve cheeky teasing between us, like two bantering scallywags, and Grandma gave as good as she got, pranking me to the great hilarity of us both. As a 4 year old, my hiding places for games of hide & seek were often poorly chosen, with exposed legs and elbows, but the theatricality of the searching itself – the searcher calling out and teasing the searchee; “Hmmm.. I wonder where that cheeky rascal could be?..” and trying to get a giggle from them – was part of the fun.. Riffing on this, I got guffaws from Grandma by teasing her when she took her bath, bantering at her from behind the locked bathroom door. She enjoyed the retellings of this story, and other such tomfoolery, for years afterward. Though she was often stern, Grandma was not above bending the rules now and then, letting me stay up past my normal bedtime when I saw episodes of the 1960s British TV series THE AVENGERS, and fell in love with Emma Peel.

As a tiny child, I had a strange feeling watching Mrs. Peel.. she was my first ever crush, many years before I had any idea of what a crush even was. My standard bedtime was eventually enforced by my parents, and I could no longer see ‘that pretty lady’ bash the bone-marrow out of all the bad-guys. I made a huge fuss – “Waaaugh!” – and a chastened Grandma tried to make amends by helping me write a letter. With notepad and pencil, she took dictation of my pleas to Mrs Peel, requesting that she put her TV show before my bedtime. I doubt that the letter was ever sent.. (after all, Grandma knew that Diana Rigg had zero pull with Tasmanian TV scheduling) but at least writing it had calmed me down, until Grandma went home (and my toddler tantrums were again somebody else’s problem) while I’d catch up with Emma Peel a few years later, in reruns. 

 Other memories from this time involve misunderstandings, that got one (or both) of us in hot water. A perfect example is being at a supermarket with Grandma while she was engrossed in grocery choices for dinner.. Later I’d be very interested in the meal that she made but, at that particular moment, dumb old vegetables didn’t interest a 4 year old, and I looked around for something else.. ..and spied a huge corral of cardboard boxes near the cash registers.. “WOAH!” This was actually for customers to pack their goods, but when you’re only 2 feet tall, a mountain of boxes 5 feet high is clearly a play paradise intended just for you. I dived into it happily, exploring fantastic worlds made of cardboard.. Meanwhile, in a supermarket back in Hobart, Grandma had made her vege selection, and turned around to discover… that her teeny grandson had disappeared into thin air. She could not know that at precisely that moment he was happily hurtling on a cardboard rocketship to outer space, mere feet from her side. Likewise, the swashbuckling space captain had no conception of the anguish of his own grandmother on the other side of the galaxy.

Poor Grandma frantically searched the store, scurrying from end to end. Her son & daughter in law had entrusted her to watch their first born, and she loses him! Employees were quickly marshaled into a search of the aisles and immediate surroundings of the supermarket, to no avail.. The child had simply vanished.. Meanwhile, the child himself was now inside a cardboard castle, repelling the assaults of a cardboard dragon.. before it morphed into a cardboard submarine. Eventually, even such exciting stuff becomes boring, especially when tummy rumbles remind the intrepid adventurer of the REAL reason for the Grandma/Jamie away team.. “Wasn’t Grandma making food for me? hmm..” 

 I tumbled out of the pile of cardboard boxes to excited cries from store employees, who rushed me to Grandma’s side, by then an absolute sobbing mess of anxiety and tears. Her relief at finding me alive, and her hugs of sheer joy were intense and heartfelt.. before she did an emotional 180° turn and became angry. This sudden pivot, from being warmly hugged by Grandma, to having my hair blown back by her blast of fury, flabbergasted 4 year old me, having no idea of the drama I’d caused. Grandma told me many years later that after intense relief, her next emotion was fear. I was a notorious chatterbox, and she was terrified that I’d cheerily tell all as soon as we got home – “Mummy & Daddy! Grandma LOST me! tee tee!” – and Grandma would never be trusted with a child ever again! 

 She immediately flipped the tables, bluffing that she’d tell my parents what I’d done! “Oh, your parents will be so angry at you, Jamie! Wait till I tell them!” Swept along by her melodramatic portrayal of parental anger at my downright dastardly deeds, I became distraught and begged her not to tell; “Oh, Pleeeeease, Grandma!” Outwardly, she feigned the attitude of a cop grudgingly letting someone off an expensive traffic ticket, while inwardly unclenching with relief that her reverse psychology had worked. My constantly jabbering motormouth would be silenced, on this subject at least.. Much much later, Grandma confessed the truth to my parents, and often recounted this story (very amusingly told too).

I now understand the context for some of these early memories of Grandma, and perhaps why she feared my parents hearing that their infant son was even briefly missing, on that particular day. Grandma was minding me after tragedy the previous year, when my baby sister died. Rachel lived for just 8 months in the year I turned 3, and memories of her are my earliest that can be dated. I remember her last day too, and not knowing not what it meant. The swirling currents of grief were opaque to a 3 year old but, in the many years since, I’ve often pondered this time of unspeakable sadness for my young parents. Grieving the loss of their infant daughter, they’d soon learn that Mum was already pregnant with my brother, Jo. News that must have brought joy, tangled with fear that tragedy might strike again. 

 Decades later, they had 6 kids, and now lived in my father’s hometown with his extended clan, including Grandma. She briefly looked after us kids when our young mother fell terminally ill. After the taxi dropped Grandma at our house, I carried her bags inside, sloshing heavily with her favourite tipple of Three Roses Sherry and, at the age of 17, I understood why she’d need the fortification. No longer an oblivious 3 or 4 year old, I was myself buffeted by cross currents of familial grief, and those undertows pull at me even today. 

 ——————————————— 

 She has been gone for decades but I perhaps understand Grandma better than ever, now that I’m roughly the same age as she was in these infant memories. By then she’d already lost her own first born child (who I’m named after) and recently a grandchild, with more heartbreak yet to come. Grief is the background radiation of huge clans.. The longer we humans live, the more tragedies strike our loved ones & ourselves, and that accumulation of wounds takes its toll, but I maintain that we owe it to each other to resist despair or bitterness. My Grandma contained many simultaneous contradictory states, as such cross-grained people always do. Crankiness & sentimentality. Harshness & softness. Dourness & wit. Sternness & shenanigans were all quantum entangled within her. A crotchety old curmudgeon homebody, she nevertheless took on the delicate mission of child minding in our grief stricken family. Twice. Grandma gave me fond early memories from tragic times in my infancy, and I will always love her for that. Mary “Mollie” Baker (née Bayley) 1913-1988

[justjannat49]

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[baylardian-1]

My only request is where can I find the whole Threshold AU explained??? 👀👀👀

Hmmmm I'm not sure how best I could direct you to it, but we have a shared blog for the Threshold AU: @voyagerihardlyknowher where I compile Everything about the AU. It'll be more chronological/historical of the thought process behind the AU there haha.

I got an ask one time and generally premised the AU here on this post. On that post I link where I compile the majority of the art in one place, and the Fic Collection on AO3 of all of our lovely writers' contributions. <3

The majority of the stuff as of late has been more like, OC-oriented in regards to the lil Threshold lizard kiddies, not a lot of context there it's mainly just been me conversing with my friends about hypotheticals while I flesh it out haha. I'm just having fun heehee. Buuuuut YEAH we'll delve into various canons, i.e. book canon (First Splinter Timeline) and Prodigy canon (RIP) and stuff like that and just follow along and draw the characters in those scenarios. :)

[stressedemoblackbratz]

romantic dreams

pairing: elliot x fem!reader

warnings: swearing and drug usage.

request: i was wondering if you could do elliot x reader where he and the reader are dating and she’s a poster child like miley cyrus was in her hannah montana days.

a/n: i really had no direction in this, but i hope you enjoy babes!

words: 603 + not proofread

so why wait to discover your dream? now is your chance.

Fez blinked.

that’s all he could do.

“so you dating the Disney chick?” he asked as Rue rolled up beside Elliot.

Elliot’s eyes shot up from the blunt before they focused on Fez’s blank gaze. he nodded at him. he knew Fez had seen them dip off at the party a few weeks ago.

“uh…yeah?” he answered before his eyes flicked down to see Rue still trying to roll.

“so don’t that mean like…” Fez started before stopping and thinking. “like you need to not do drugs. i hear them industry plants have it bad when it comes to their image.” he questioned as Rue finally finished rolling.

Fez tossed Elliot the lighter so he could light it. the lighters fire brightened up Elliot’s face before disappearing.

“i do drugs in private for a reason. not openly in front of everyone at a party.” Elliot explained. his thoughts drifted off as he thought back to New Years.

he had locked you and him in the laundry room the best he could as he did a line off your chest.

“their role model pretty princess is getting ruined at some weak ass party instead of going over her lines.” Elliot smiled, bending up from your chest to stare at you.

“…I guess these are the wrong lines huh?” you laughed before kissing him.

“so like do her label or whatever not know she’s dating someone.” Fez asked breaking through Elliot’s train of thought.

Rue nodded before handing the blunt to Elliot.

“yeah Eli…fuck the drugs. you have face tattoo’s. they let that shit slide?” Rue asked him.

he came to get high, not interrogated.

“you two hear enough stories to know nobody in that realm knows we’re together.” Elliot said while blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“once she’s done with that kiddy shit and doing like…some horror movie or some other shit though? she’s out of that contract? we’re definitely going public.” he said sitting up to hand Fez the blunt. Fez nodded as he took a hit.

“headlines gonna read, “once beloved child actress and face tatted beau party in Cuba” or some wild ass shit.” Rue laughed and Elliot snickered with her.

Faye suddenly stumbled into the room, tripping over her own feet.

“u-uh you two sell to actresses?!” Faye slightly yelled with her eyes wide. her chest was heaving, her skin was flushed, and her shirt was dirty.

either she had been running or being weird again.

Ash came in right after with you in tow, rolling his eyes at the blonde. “no bitch. we sell to her boyfriend.” he said as you crossed the threshold and grabbed the blunt from Fez.

“bro…” Fez said looking at Ashtray. “be nice.”

Ash walked away with a huff and you sat right beside Elliot, pulling your legs in his lap as he started to rub them.

“i do date the actress.” he laughed as Faye stared at you two with her mouth open.

“you still watch Disney?” you asked her. when she nodded you rose a brow at her. “my shows corny as hell, are you okay?”

“she obviously not okay. she living here.” Rue mumbled.

“you wrong for that shit.” you said while placing the blunt between Elliot’s lips, waiting for him to pull so you could kiss him through the smoke.

“i need to lay down.” Faye said before leaving the room.

“yeah…” Fez said as she walked away.

“that girl needs help.”

“no for real because i’m in the show, and you can’t pay me to watch it.”