#gumball machine weekend

[korva-the-raven]

I'm a Raven. I won't do minimalism.

I like collecting small shinee things and making weird little junk trinkets.

I collect curios and nature things.

I also collect trash and junk. And sometimes I find lucky treasure.

I collect Halloween loot and gumball machine loot. I have a pencil collection too. My inner child is alive and thriving.

I collect color too. I build a tiny color museum based on found objects. I also collect lots of nerd stuff. That's my model of a neuron (brain cell) I made out of pipe cleaners at the Science fair last weekend.

I collect ephemera too. My desk is always cluttered because it's where I empty my pockets, and I'm always busy with my adventures, so my goodies and swag always pile up.

I cover my walls with my favorite things and pay no mind to giving them an aesthetic treatment or design. They are there because I want them there.

I just like spooky, nerdy, witchy, colorful plastic Shiney shit. And I love cluttering my personal space with it. It only has to make sense to me.

Also, I have a pet rock now.

#my 5x7 feel of maximialism glory that is my little corner of the world #raven's lair

[icannotreadcursive]

Last Line Game

Taking up the open tag by @non-un-topo because I'm working on about a million things and want to share but have nothing ready to post and this is an excellent excuse!

So y'all get last lines from multiple WIPs.

TriStamp fic:

She whapped him in the face with the pillow. “I kissed you first, bozo!” “Yeah, okay, good point.” Vash took a deep breath. “More than a little thrown for a loop by that, actually.” With a roll of her eyes she leaned down to kiss him again. His fingers found their way back into her hair.

Star Trek fic:

As soon as the shuttles touched down and the hatches opened, the hoard of cadets spilled out like gumballs from broken machine and went running for the waterline, tossing off coverups and kicking up flipflops as they went. Their chaperones followed in a rather more subdued manner.

To Tell the Truth (main Brokeback fic):

Ennis chewed his tongue a moment, shook his head, let out a breath a smoke. “Look….” he said slowly. “I know you an' Jack...had some kind of a spat or something, when you 'n him went fishin' whenever that was, but, far as I've heard from him, two a you got that settled. So, no air left to clear, sure not with me.”

Brokeback poly fic:

Jack grinned, bright and warm, and what was left of the knot [in Ennis's chest] frayed away. “C'mon, then,” Jack said, clapping Ennis on the arm harder than was quite reasonable—but he probably deserved that. “Toss your shit in the back and let's go.”

Midlife Crisis Ranch (the other Bokeback fic):

“I don’t wanna keep doing this thing of going off, couple weeks outa the year, hiding out in the ass end a nowhere. Don’t wanna keep being a stranger in my own damn house, neither. I want a real relationship, Ennis. With a lover I can come home to, who’s there, and I can turn to when I need somebody. And tell you what, I don’t trust you to be that.”

ATLA fic I abandoned years ago but have rebooted:

The shop boy—about Yong-lin’s age, surly, a difficult past emblazoned plainly across his face—turned and frowned, blinking, at the giant pot. He blinked again. “I—don’t know.”

Old Guard "Immortal Weekend Warriors" fic:

“Yo, Padre!” It took a second too long for Nicky to turn to look at Nile walking towards them from up the main aisle.   “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been called that?” he asked while Joe wheezed with laughter, one hand on the shelving to keep himself somewhat upright.  “I’m pretty sure the last time was him,” Nicky continued, jerking a thumb at Joe, “and he was making fun of me.  I just had flashbacks to seminary. Cristo.” Nile snickered.  “Sorry about the religious trauma, Booker wants your opinion on some window blinds."

And I think that's everything active at the moment!

By all means, bother me about these stories. Like, please. I'd love to get my brain to latch onto one long enough to get something to a postable point 😅

Tagging: @hotcocoaandstripedsweaters @mediumorange @nerdsandthelike @minncoe and anybody else who feels like participating!

[omegaplus]

# 4,415

Lindenhurst.

I lived in Brentwood for much of my timeline; mostly at my childhood home and later moved down the road not too far away post-Stony Brook. The latter move was a result of me refusing to move down to Myrtle Beach with my parents. I never had any desire to leave New York State and I never had enough of visiting New York City. Around the time, the economy plundered. I went broke and applied for the first job opportunity that was open in order to survive. I had no idea that place would ruin me. For most of the time at the second Brentwood residency, I wasn’t feeling 100% because of constant targeting of management and their crony co-workers. It took me a while to get back on track and eventually whatever I lost I gained back and more. I discovered a few key artists that made me see the light. I got back into broadcasting with a new radio show, and I finally re-united with Cath- whom I haven’t seen in a few years due to her addiction and sordid history.

But, some things turn sour that’s not your fault. Ma’ commits suicide and your dad ends up moving back in with you. You end up working two jobs without a day-off in near vicinity. Cath-’s #1 dies of a heroin overdose and she cuts off all ties from you with absolutely no reason given. Your unemployed gamer landlord doesn’t put in his fair share of rent and utilities, so you end up with no internet and you’re literally freezing because there’s no running heat or hot water for all of winter. Of all the major events going on, that final one had my bro- take notice. He was living with his lady and their first-born in Lindenhurst. He felt so bad learning I was living with no utilities that he not only offered me to move in with him to Lindenhurst but also into a new house. I shouldn’t say ‘offered’. He told me so. Sure. I wasn’t complaining.

I had about a week to pack up all the loose ends and was told to take out all my records, discs, cassettes, VHS tapes, and DVDs from the drawers and throw them in giant bins. Him and his friends managed to lift all the furniture up out of the old Brentwood residency and into the new one in Lindenhurst. It was my duty to take some of the smaller boxes of personals to stuff in the trunk, back seat, and passengers' seat of my car.

I’d be leaving behind the un-mopped dingy floors, the eventual basement floods, and the other disused soot-ridden rooms which the former random inhabitants lived in. One ‘neighbor’ who lived in the adjacent room from me came home on the weekends totally wasted that he collapsed face first on the floor as soon as he walked in. He almost caused a house fire by forgetting the bag of popcorn he was cooking in the microwave. And the best one – get ready for this - was when a fully nude lady almost walked into my room. It was his prostitute looking for him. Jesus Fucking Christ.

I went to work and was told by my bro- that everything would be moved in the same day, so just come to the new house in Lindenhurst. I had no idea how good I had it. My new room was up on the second floor and triple the size of my previous one. Carpeted floors. Windows that faced the peeking sun. Low-flying passenger jets. A wider, larger closet space, and a pair of smaller doors revealing an attic for storage. Plus, being in Lindenhurst meant that three record stores were in near vicinity: West Babylon’s Looney Tunes, Amityville’s High Fidelity, and Massapequa’s Infinity Records. Lindenhurst had quickly become a favorite place to live in.

I arrived from work on a sunny 70* Sunday. June 1st to be exact. Most of what I kept from my childhood home and the previous residency came with me to Lindenhurst such as a gumball machine, my gramma’s Lafayette LR-810 receiver, and a massive Philips 24” CRT TV that would paralyze anyone attempting to lift it. All of it was there and a few boxes of my audio / video library. I wasn’t interested in unpacking. Not just yet. Our wi-fi network was set-up. That was the most important thing to me. I haven’t had consistent wi-fi in six months. The first thing I looked up was to see how Cath- was doing despite her taking everything we had and throwing out the trash as if it was nothing. Good news: she’s started a new life solo in Arizona and has been clean for one month.

The first finds to mark my new stay in Lindenhurst? Someone had posted Pharmakon’s “Xia Xinfeng” where her murderous screams break through a fully-running frigidly cold hum. I was sold instantly. The vinyl-finds groups lead me to Mass Production and Peter Brown; soul-jazz and pop respectively. I stuck with the L.I.E.S. label after fully enjoying Ron Morelli’s solos for a quite a while, all released through Dominick Fernow’s Hospital Productions. His label compilation, Music For Shut-Ins, supplied Samantha’s Vacation, Svengalisghost, and Legowelt. Omar Souleyman started gaining a name for himself in the states. Experiencing “Kell Il Banat Inkhatban (All The Girls Are Engaged)“ is truly something. I never heard keyboards go that crazy. Then we have WUSB’s own Alice, dee-jay of Nightmare Aquarium. Without her, I wouldn’t have known who Ariel Pink and William Onyeabor were. I credit her for introducing me to the magically sublime Black Marble.

Nary did I have a day off during that Summer I moved in. I could only count four…maybe six total. The electronics place finally gave me full time, double-dealing between that and part-time at the Italian market. The only stand-out moment I had during the hotter months was getting lost somewhere in the sunny woodsy section of Mastic looking for Nicole’s residency which I did find an hour late. Nowadays, one listen to A Different Arrangement instantly takes me back to those June Sundays.

Autumn came. The days were getting cooler and darker. Driving past Argyle Pond coming home from work became a staple memory with synthwave vibes of “Fright Night” from Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti forever attached to it. Hospital Productions gave me another artist to savor in the Italian-based Ninos Du Brasil  with their dying-hot exotic techno sounds. Suicideyear would be distinct to the season and to Lindenhurst alone which makes their sound personal in my book. Another neighborhood memory, Dual Action’s “NC-17 Drive In”, is forever intertwined to the Autumn soul. Our WUSB hip-hop dee-jay Dr. Ceus played me SpaceGhostPurrp’s “Mystical Maze” adding another bookmark in this asterisk time. Mono/Poly’s “Alpha Omega”, Lussuria’s “Mondo Narcotico” and “Keys To Unlock Paradise (Roman Showers)” from American Babylon, Function & Vatican Shadow’s Games Have Rules, the obscure Axxa/Abraxas’ “Waiting Daze”, and selections from The Bug’s Angels & Devils left their imprints on another feel-good season at Lindenhurst.

Before I knew it, my streak of 83 straight days of work was finally broken a few days before Thanksgiving. I came to visit the market for my hours to see that I was written out of the grid. Week after week it became a normal occurrence. I’ve been giving them my other hours in time without fail but now no more results. No discussion, no rhyme or reason why. I was let go without any notice. It was a blessing, however. A soft end to six years of non-stop belittling, boys-club behavior, and endless soul-torturing has finally been put down to die.

Winter was where things started to get fucked for discoveries; like the ‘parenthesis’ in an equation. My ex- Yenny is leaving for Lima and she’s asked me to house-sit for her in Hauppauge. A two-week stay meant all music discoveries default there. A residency inside a residency. Before and after, XXYYXX’s only full-length and two finds from the Ze label Xmas Record, Suicide’s “Hey Lord” and Alan Vega’s “No More Christmas Blues” are embedded in those frosty, chilly Winter days back in Lindy-. The latter two would be put on pause as I walked a couple of blocks to the bagel place for a heavy baked breaded breakfast.

Then came a March announcement from my bro-: we’re moving to Ronkonkoma. This was unexpected. He was excited to start a new point in his life. His lady was expecting their second child and wanted something even nicer than what we have. There was no issue with where we lived. I had none and truly wanted to stay longer. But, what my bro- was selling us on that we’d upgrade from the slightly crowded residential streets, noise-polluting airplanes, and highways across every direction for a gentler, calmer, at-peace setting of historical context, well-manicured lawns, trails, veteran’s parks, and a 4.5 square-mile scenic lake. To me, Ronkonkoma was Record Stop on Portion Road, punk luminary Jimi LaLumia’s Record Connection on Hawkins Road, and what used to be Lakeside’s bar where I’d go for some small-scale but breakout-violent local hardcore shows. Other than LaLumia, none are still standing. It’s a new decade now; far away from the community-college shows and record-buying jaunts from the Stony Brook era. We had up until May 1st   to get everything together. The Lindenhurst finds dwindled down to nothing, and all the discoveries found that Spring ended up at the current residency we’re at now. It was time to say goodbye to my old furniture: the twin-sized bed, the old bookshelves, dressers, drawers, the gumball machine, and the Lafayette that was losing its functionality. We left all the small stuff in front of the gate and left the furniture behind. Goodbye Lindenhurst and hello Ronkonkoma.

**********

I can tell you that my very first experience in the new neighborhood was delightful and exotic. We were only a few blocks away from the new house. My dad had me pull up to our neighborhood 7-11 for his daily coffee. I grab a pack of Hostess chocolate cupcakes and behind the counter I see the perfect ginger. Bright long copper hair, brown eyes, freckles, and all of pale skin. Jackpot. She was a sight to be seen.

There was a line of five people in front of us with two registers open. Dad was more than ready to sip his coffee but was getting restless as the scalding hot was wearing off. Lucky for me, the young Indian kid took care of him. I put my Hostess on the counter for the ginger to ring up. She was quiet, expressionless. Tired, bored, introverted? Who knows. Who cares. She made quick work of my purchase and I was two more cupcakes happier. The day was off to a great start. I didn’t believe people like her existed.

She was my very first memory at the new neighborhood. I still remember her to this very day. There’s some faces you never forget.

Pharmakon “Xia Xinfeng”

Mass Production “Slow Bump”

Atari Teenage Riot “Modern Liars”

Peter Brown “For Your Love”

Black Marble A Different Arrangement

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Schnitzel Boogie”

Purling Hiss “Don’t Even Try It”

Omar Souleyman “Kell Il Banat Inkhatban (All The Girls Are Engaged)“

Poly Styrene (as Mari Elliott) “Silly Billy”

L.I.E.S. label Music For Shut-Ins (2013)

Carbonas “September Gurls”

Predator “Honest Man”

Run The Jewels “Blockbuster Night Pt. 1”

Arca “Thievery”

Broadcast “Goodbye Girls”

Ariel Pink “Put Your Number In My Phone”

Ninos Du Brasil “Pandiero Sinchinsa”

NeruvianDOOM “Disastrous”

Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments “Please Hear My Plea”

Suicideyear “Hope Building A”

Hussy, The “EZ-PZ”

Carbonas “Frothing At The Mouth”

Krewe Of 77 “Three’s A Crowd”

Ekoplekz “Robert Rental”

Wara From The NBHD “Squeal (Peel Off)”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Fright Night (Never More)”

Mono/Poly “Alpha & Omega”

Casket Girls, The “Chemical Dizzy”

Bug, The “Void”

Suicideyear “Rememberance”

Standish / Carlyon “2 5 1 1”

Vereker “Rosite”

Ninos Du Brazil “Tuppelo”

SpaceGhostPurrp “Mystikal Maze”

Dual Action “NC-17 Drive In”

Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments ”Turntable Battlefield”

Bug, The “Swarm”

Suicideyear “I Don’t Care About Death Because I Smoke”

Travis Porter “Do A Trick” (Suicideyear RMX)

Ninos Du Brasil “Rebanho Espetacular”

Lussuria “Mondo Narcotico”

Function & Vatican Shadow Games Have Rules

Axxa/Abraxas “Waiting Daze”

Lussuria “Keys To Unlock Paradise (Roman Showers)”

Blossom Dearie “Sunday Afternoon”

XXYYXX “Witching Hour”

Alan Vega “No More Christmas Blues”

Suicide “Hey Lord”

XXYYXX “Fields”

[maquina-semiotica]

Yppah, "Gumball Machine Weekend"

[racingmiku2018]

sometimes. looking into things. is a bad idea

[angelsdean]

sometimes young dean isn’t so responsible and sometimes, in the pockets of space where john is not, he lets himself be soft. like sometimes he spends their last quarters on bubblegum from the gumball machine at the laundromat instead of doing their laundry like he’s supposed to. and he and sammy have a contest to see who can blow the biggest bubble. and sometimes they go on walks through the empty fields behind their motel of the week and dean picks wildflowers and tucks them behind his ear and presses them into the back of his library books from two states over that he never returned. and sometimes sammy’ll ask him to braid his hair and he will and sammy will stick some flowers in the braids and smile wide, showing off his missing front-tooth. sometimes dean’ll swipe nail polish and eyeliner from the drugstore on the corner and smudge his eyes and messily paint his nails before going out to meet the cool boy from his class at the local record store. and sometimes he’ll hold that boy’s hand while the wander around town and it feels nice. and sometimes dean’ll have sam stay over at a friend’s house for a whole weekend just so he can have some time alone and not worry about having to feed both of them. and sometimes dean thinks the best moments are when dad’s not around and he can just be. and sometimes he doesn’t even feel guilty about thinking that at all. 

[julianbashir]

The characters in Evil Dead: The Game have dialogue if you view their models in your collection! More characters/plaintext description under under read more.

Ash Williams (The Evil Dead): Delta, tuned up and gassed -- check. Suitcases, TV, football, and blankets in the trunk -- check. Map to the cabin -- check. Worthless magnifying glass necklace boxed up like actual jewelry and in my pocket -- check. Linda’s gonna love it. She’ll never take it off.

Ash Williams (Evil Dead 2): I know I’m punching above my weight with Linda, but the important thing is she doesn’t know it. Heck, she doesn’t even realize that piece-of-crap necklace I gave her came out of a gumball machine.

Ash Williams (Army of Darkness): I had a real life once. A job, a car, a girlfriend. Together, we drove to a cabin in the mountains. An archaeologist had come to this remote place to translate and study his latest find, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, the Book of the Dead. It was never meant for the world of the living. The book awoke something dark in the woods.

Ash Williams (Ash vs Evil Dead): I’ve been called a lot of things: El Jefe, the savior of humanity, the boomstick butcher with the chainsaw hand. The truth is, I’m just your everyday, charming, ruggedly handsome dude from Michigan. I didn’t ask for any of this, but when evil picked a fight with Ashley J. Williams, they picked the wrong dude.

Annie Knowby: The Castle of Kandar is an obsession for my dad. I guess that’s where I picked it up. We were exploring the castle’s rear chamber when we found it -- Naturom Demonto, the Book of the Dead. Mom and Dad took it back to their cabin to translate in peace. I stayed behind here at Kandar to find the missing pages.

Scotty: Way out in the woods with the trees and the moonlight, what girl can resist that romantic setting? Shelly and I have been going out for about a month and a half, but this weekend is gonna kick it up a notch. Nature brings out the primal instincts, you know?

Henry the Red: As Lord of the Northlands, I have been witness to all measure of hazard and hardship, but nothing approaches the abomination that now threatens out land. At the behest of the hero from the sky, I will put aside my grievances with Arthur in the south. I will ride with my men into battle against evil itself. Blows, blood, and death, I say!

Ed Getley: As an associate professor, to be invited to join Professor Knowby’s expedition of Castle Kandar was the highlight of my career. I could never have imagined that it’s also where I’d find the woman of my dreams. From the moment I saw her, the professor’s daughter, Annie, took my breath away. In that instant, I knew that I’d follow her into the mouth of hell.

Kelly Maxwell: ValueStop was supposed to be a temporary layover for me, a pit stop to gas up and get my bearings before the magnificent future ahead. I don’t plan anymore. I don’t even think about the future. While everyone else dreams of peace on Earth and puppies, my eyes are wide open to the evil closing in around us.

Amanda Fisher: I can’t explain what happened to Detective Carson in that house. He was my partner, my friend, and then he was...something else. He was sick. At first, I thought I couldn’t trust my eyes, then I saw the same thing again in the bookstore and the diner. This Ash guy isn’t someone I’d normally trust, but at this point he’s my best option to stop this thing.

Cheryl Williams: I always feel like an outsider with Ash and his friends, like the tag-along little sister. Scotty doesn’t make it any easier, teasing me all the time. I don’t even know why Ash likes him. Ash says this’ll be a fun weekend, but I don’t know. Stuck in this creepy old cabin for a weekend with this group? I’ll be glad when it’s over.

Pablo Simon Bolivar: When I was a kid, my Uncle Brujo would say “Fear the devil. Evil is always waiting in the shadows.” He told me that when the time came, El Jefe would rise to stand against it. I always thought he was crazy. Now, I may not be El Jefe, but I can see the time has come -- the time to rise and stand against the evil.

Lord Arthur: For time beyond measure, the brave people of Castle Kandar have stood as the final bastion of hope against the terrors of the Deadites. Under my leadership, our people have kept safe this region, while we await the prophesized hero from the sky to deliver us. But I fear our time runs short, and our end is nigh.

Henrietta: Fresh souls run scared in the night, and sweet Henrietta is hungry! Bring me to them, and I will do the rest.

Eligos: Release me, and together we will torment the living until they beg for death.

Evil Ash: I live again! I shall command every worm-infested son of a bitch that ever died in battle!

[light-macadamia]

time gum

my first time participating in @flashfictionfridayofficial​, so here is a little bitty thingy of a thing (569)! 

‘Woah,’ exhaled Reese. ‘Can’t remember the last time I’ve seen one of these.’

Maddie shuffled up behind him and leaned over his shoulder. She was trying to not smear his t-shirt with mint chocolate chip ice cream, the scoop sitting on the cone and not being levelled into it yet.

‘A gumball machine? Really? They are still around’. 

It didn’t contain gum or at least, it did not seem like it did – the glossy ball stored its own little copies inside it. Besides the size, what stood in the way of the spheres being a perfect replica was the mirky, non-transparent plastic. You can see clearly into the mother ball, but not into the baby balls, leaving their contents an even tinier mystery. 

‘Not around me, then,’ Reese slid his hand into his tight jean pocket and came up empty. ‘Got any quarters to feed it?’

Maddie checked her windbreaker, a tricky thing to do with one hand, and there was some change as well as lint. Reese picked one coin up from her open palm.

It grew strangely quiet in the ice cream parlor, but it was hardly peculiar. Reese’s mind had a tendency to tune everything out when caught in the grips of excitement, and recently it’s been coming from unexpected places. Reese wasn’t that into ice cream anyway, it gave him a brain freeze, and his choice was always chocolate, in which case, he might as well cut out the middleman and get something from a corner shop. 

He turned the lever and the machine crunched up the coin, as if digesting it. Barely a moment later, something hit the bottom and the flap jittered just a touch. He lifted it and held up the item, studying carefully before twisting to disconnect the halves. His finger pried out a small scrap of paper, and it was starting to feel more like a fortune cookie.

‘For a quarter?’ Maddie blew some raspberries with her lips. ‘Capitalism.’

‘1984,’ he read out loud.

‘Like the book?’

‘That’s neat,’ said Reese, undecided if he should feel disappointment. ‘It’s a book recommendation.’

‘You can just search for goodreads or something,’ Maddie headed back towards the door, but something put her stride to a halt. Reese figured it must have been the brain freeze catching up.

‘This door didn’t used to be pink,’ she said instead.

Reese let out a pensive hum, because, truly, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact colour it’d been, but there was definitely something different about it. The air had shifted, too, and he noticed a strange whiff of cotton candy in the air. Tracing it, he turned around to the rest of the parlor, but it wasn’t exactly how they’d - almost - left it.

It was utterly vacant, in discordance with the weekend rush hour. Even the server they knew from school, not by name, but still, was nowhere to be seen. The interior looked all the more striking in this absence – the plastic sitting had morphed into cushiony, marshmallow-y sofas, paired with tables with painted sprinkles all over. In the corner next to the bathroom, a wooden jukebox was false-starting a tune, like an engine that kept failing. Checkered tiles of the floor tied the whole picture together, despite being so unbelievably tacky, or, perhaps, thanks to being fittingly tacky.

‘Holy…’ was the only thing that came out of Maddie.

‘So,’ her friend followed up. ‘Not a book recommendation.’

[forgottenboneyard]

I have had a number of emails about the eyeball gumball machines and as I work on a couple for the @odditiesandcuriositiesexpo in Dallas this weekend I decided to put up preorders for a few on Forgottenboneyard.com They will ship out late next month. This larger machine has around 100 eyeballs inside of it and was an incredible amount of work so I am limiting it to only two preorders for now. All orders this week and next will begin shipping on April 6th, hope to see some of you in Dallas! https://www.instagram.com/p/CMvsrJNlUnn/?igshid=1d6c7wy056bzs

[j-whirl44]

Autumn asks! 1, 3, 23 (uwu), 30!

1. what is your favorite autumn scent?

oof probably what is my favorite scent in general which is bonfire/burning wood/fire in general whether artificial or sitting around an actual campfire. Also that like, damp leaf smell is good too.

23. describe your dream autumn date?

(uwu why would you ask this) uhhhh i've always wanted to go apple picking!! ;-; Also just the like typical cliché pumpkin patch/hayride place is also very good. IDK just spending any nice time outside as the sun goes low in the sky is ideal.

30. what was your favorite autumn activity as a kid?

oh man my elementary/middle school had a penny bazaar every Halloween(/the last Friday in October i guess, if it fell on a weekend) that I always loved. There was just a bunch of games like bean bag toss and ring toss and all that that you paid a penny or nickels or what have you and then you win tiny little gumball machine equivalent prizes lmao. There was also a bunch of cupcakes and sweets you could buy in the cafeteria too and it was always one of my favorite days and i still talk about it to my mom all the time lol.

thank you dearest <3

[hournites]

Blackouts (2/2)

 part one

~.~

“You two made a bomb?”

Beth sat with Rick on the wooden bench of disciplinary torture. It was stiff and uncomfortable—worse, it smelt like sweat and fear. She had to squash down an anxiously clawing urge to tap her foot against the floor like Rick, a habit that used to annoy her. A habit she doesn’t even have.

Beth has never been in trouble at school. Ever.

Not one detention or demerit point or strict scolding by any teacher or playground monitor since Kindergarten. Beth never had to sit on this bench. Never been in the principal’s office for any other reason than collecting a plaque or certificate of achievement. Never felt this slimy guilt-ball of awful. It’s only been forty-five minutes, but sitting here in shame as their peers passed by through the big window of the office in front of Principal Bowin and Pat and the nice secretaries that worked here and God was punishment enough. She felt like a terrible human being. A liar. A cheater. A scoundrel.

Principal Bowin crossed her arms in her matching dark green skirt and jacket suit, far too displeased for a woman who spends her weekends hypnotizing innocent people to death with her husband’s fiddle.

“Not to harm anyone! This is bullshit!”

Beth held her tongue, but she had to give it to Rick. This sucked.

Why did Mr. Hyacinth have to correct his prescription glasses? He never bothered to notice their experiments in Chemistry class before! And Rick couldn’t get in his bad graces, he needed to do well in chemistry to figure out more of his father’s equations and codes. He was doing well in the course, Beth thinks he might have a shot at the regional science competition that she's pushing him to enter. A win there would look amazing on college applications and Rick was super good at it! He couldn’t afford another black mark on his student record, not now.

“I’m sure you know this act of delinquency is a serious offence,” Principal Bowin continued. “Explosives are weapons and they—”

“—A stink bomb is hardly an explosive—”

“—In fact, I ought to bring in the county sheriff—”

“Pat!” Rick cried. “She’s blowing things all out of proportion—”

“Bad word choice, Rick,” Beth muttered under her breath. He groaned and tried to think of something else to say, but under Principal Bowin and Mr. Dugan’s judgmental glares, he thought better of it and slumped back against his seat. Beth stared down at her shoes. She could never bring her parents to another parent-teacher assembly ever again. They were going to be so disappointed.

“How could it be a stink bomb? There was no foul smell in the report sent by their teacher.”

“Because we never set it off!” Rick snapped, lying to save their butts, and rather convincingly too. “We weren’t trying to hurt anyone.” Which was true. “We finished the assignment early and we got bored. I mean, this was just a prank that I made Beth help me with—”

Beth glanced up at the two adults, knowing if Rick continued the way he was, he’d only screw himself over.

“Mr. Dugan, this was all my fault. Rick had nothing to do with it!”

“Save your breath, Beth.”

He turned to The Fiddler. “May I have a word with these two? Alone?”

She let out a huff. “You have five minutes. When I return, we will discuss repercussions.”

The door shut firmly behind her, and they all waited for the click-clacks of her high heel shoes down the hallway before they all started talking at once.

Pat put his hands on his knees to stare at them at eye level. A truly incredible guilt-tripping tactic.

“— Bombs? At school?? Are you out of your minds?”

“For the last time, they’re not explosives. It’s just—”

“It’s for JSA!” Beth blurted out.

“Yeah, look sorry I’m not sorry, Pat. They’re important and we need them.”

“Explain. Now.” Pat never looked so mad. Not at Beth. She squirmed in her seat but Rick barely looked affected, if only the least bit remorseful. She didn’t know how he could sit so still in the face of a disappointed father figure.

Oh. Beth mentally cringed when she remembered why that was. Right.

Rick glanced sideways at her. Beth let out a sigh and reached into her backpack’s front pocket to pull out the blackout bombs. They had figured out how to make them compact last week. They looked like the fancy things her mom would put in her bath when she wanted to relax. Or charcoal gumballs from a retro candy machine.

“Rick and I came up with these so that I could throw them at ISA as a diversion when I need to run.”

Pat took one, bringing it up to his eye. “What does it do?”

Rick and Beth went quiet.

“Guys.”

Beth bit her lip. “We call them blackouts. When they hit the ground they mask the area with a thick black impenetrable smoke that makes it hard to see.”

“Yeah,” Rick chimed in. “So that Beth can use Chuck’s night vision to safely get away or blind opponents so she could have that upper hand.”  

“It’s not lethal? Toxic?”

She shrugged. “Not so far as we could tell, no. We never got sick and we've been carrying samples of them for weeks.”

His eyes bugged out. "Weeks?!"

Rick stifled a laugh.

Pat stared at them, slack-jawed. “ How did you come up with this?”

It was Rick's turn to shrug. “It’s just simple potassium nitrate.” He scratched his head. “And some other stuff. Beth made an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Don’t you potassium nitrate me, Rick Tyler. This is dangerous. And irresponsible. And frankly Beth, I’m shocked you went along with this for so long. At school? During class?”

“We’re sorry, Mr. Dugan.”

“Yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry that you got caught.”

Beth’s face fell. “Are we getting suspended?” She hated the way her voice cracked. She hated the way Rick’s arm immediately went around her too. It was nice but she didn’t want him feeling bad for her because she couldn’t take a simple scolding. Ugh, she was so sensitive.

Pat confiscated all of the bombs. “I don’t know. I hope not, because you’ve never been in trouble, Beth. I’d hate for that to change now.” He looked at Rick. “But you. That’s a whole other story.”

“We didn’t do anything that warrants more than detention.”

"You're very lucky your mother and father aren't here, Beth. I don't know what they'd say about this." Pat began to pace, ignoring Rick’s excuses. “And since when and why did I become your emergency contact, anyway?”

Rick pulled a face. “What do you think?”

Beth’s hand found its way to his knee. Rick’s jaw tensed, but he sucked in a breath before looking away.

“...Right,” Pat said with a sigh. “Your uncle.”

The room went silent.

“Okay, well I’m glad you trust me with your screw-ups. Because that’s what this is. A big screw up, you hear me? You’re not doing these kinds of reckless experiments again.”

“Yeah,” Rick replied, crossing his arms and staring up at the ceiling. “We get it.”

“Rick, I don’t think you—”

Beth stood up from the bench of shame. “Don’t be so hard on him.” She wrung her hands, and her heart leapt out of her chest. She was really terribly bad at confrontation. Especially to adults. Super especially to nice adults she trusted and had let down. But she needed to defend Rick, he got enough to deal with already. She wasn’t about to let him lose Pat’s respect. Not because of her.

“I knew it was a dumb idea to do in school, but he only did it because he wanted to protect me.” She refused to look back and see Rick’s face, but Pat’s own went soft. “And Rick is really good at chemistry. Don’t take this away from him, Mr. Dugan.” Her eyes began to well up with inexplicable tears. This was really dumb. Beth needed to get a grip. “Please.”

Two hands were suddenly on her shoulders. Rick. He squeezed, rubbing with his thumb. “Beth,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do this. It was my dumb idea. You knew that. I don’t really care for school anyway, to hell if I get suspended or Mr. Hyacinth returns to thinking I’m trash. Whatever.”  

Beth frowned. “You’re lying.” She turned around and his arms dropped to his sides. His eyebrows pulled together as he stared at her, unable to read her sincerity. “You do care. I know you do. Stop taking the blame for me on the stupid stuff we both do. If we’re going down...We’re going down together.”

Something warm and wonderful seeped into Rick’s eyes. His hand flexed and Beth used her courage to take it again, tangling their fingers together like the first time they first started making the blackouts. “Beth.”

“I care about you, Rick,” she admitted, feeling her face heat up. It wasn’t like she was confessing an undying love for him or anything, of course, she cared, he had to know. “I’m in your corner. Always.”

Rick stared at her some more, unsure what to say. Slowly, he raised their joined hands and brushed his lips over Beth’s hand. Her stomach dropped like that one unforgettable time she rode the Dive Bomber at Omaha’s Six Flags. But this time she didn’t want to throw up. At all. This rush was thrilling. Beth could feel Rick’s kiss tingle down to her toes.

Mr. Dugan cleared his throat and the two tore their gazes away from each other, Beth slowly turning back to face him. He gave the teens a long look.

“Fine. Here’s the deal. Experimental weapon building only happens at the garage under my constant supervision. No ifs or buts.”

Beth stuck out her hand. “Deal!” She turned around to look at Rick. "It's a good compromise!"

“Your garage doesn’t have any of the chemicals we need.”

“Then I’ll order some,” he retorted. “Need I remind you that the school principal is a part of the ISA?”

“Yeah.” Rick’s stubbornness on the subject seemed to have deflated in its entirety. Beth held in her smile when Pat gave her a knowing look because they both knew why.

Principal Bowin returned, looking very annoyed. “Apparently, the school board has plans to use Beth Chapel for televised school advertisements and have no desire to hear my complaints about the matter as there’s no proof. They won’t even let me call her parents about it.”

Beth let out the biggest sigh of relief.

“So she’s free to go.”

Mr. Dugan smiled.

“Rick Harris, however—”  

Beth took a step forward and raised her head high. “I won’t do any commercials if Rick isn’t excused. That’s not fair. We weren’t making any bombs, Principal Bowin. The beaker exploded. We were in the lab. It happens.”

Mr. Dugan wrapped his arms around both kids. “They’re good kids. If Rick needs some type of community service, he can work at my garage.”

Rick looked at him. “Really?”

“Really?” Beth echoed.

“Yes. Starting Monday.” He ushered them out of the office while they still could. “I’m sure that would suffice, Principal Bowin?”

“But—”

“Need I point out that I am clearly not this man’s father? You do know who his father is, right Ma’am? Matthew Harris? The man Rick had tried to file student reports about for the last several years for neglect and abuse? Reports your administration did nothing about?”

Principal Bowin paled. “Uh.”

“Thought so. Have a nice day.”

He saluted, shepherding them out.

Beth turned to Mr. Dugan as they went outside, still holding Rick’s hand. “Mr. Dugan that was awesome!”

“You gotta start calling me Pat, Beth.”

“She’s not ever calling you Pat,” Rick teased with a smile of his own and squeezed her hand before he let go. Beth watched fondly as Rick tentatively, awkwardly, hugged Mr. Dugan in front of the flagpole. “But she’s right. It kinda was.”

Her heart flipped as it always did when Rick opened up his feelings to other people. She cares for him so much. More than anyone. More than her parents. It was crazy how much. It was almost like...She thought about the way he kissed her hand, eyes piercing into hers in The Fiddler's office and felt giddy all over again like—

Time stopped. Beth's feet stopped working as she realized something important about what she felt for Rick.

Oh.

[bigoltrashpile]

Hi, your writing is super cute! Do you have any meet cute ideas or how they would ask out a future SO?

Aw, thank you so much!  Also, sorry this took forever and a half for me to write, I went a little overboard.  Anyway, this got super long, so I split it in two!  Asking out headcanons are here, and I’ll be posting the meet cutes shortly!

Mafiatale Sans: He’s the most likely to ask you out using a dumb joke of some sort.  (Honestly, did you expect anything else?)  He’ll do the old, “hey, do you like raisins?  then how about a date?” thing, or have you spin a wheel like on Wheel of Fortune, and when it lands, throw confetti and play one of those dumb noise makers.  “congrats, you won a date with me!”  He’ll try to make you laugh while still being sincere.

Mafiatale Papyrus: He probably won’t even ask, if we’re being honest.  He’ll invite you over for a normal night of hanging out of some sort, then, coincidentally, it’ll only be the two of you doing something that could be taken as romantic.  “WOWIE, AMAZING!  NOBODY ELSE SHOWED UP!  I GUESS IT’S JUST THE TWO OF US.  ALONE.  WATCHING A ROMANTIC MOVIE.  WHAT AN INCREDIBLY DATE-LIKE SCENARIO!”  He’s trying his best.

Mafiaswap Sans (Lucky): Like all things, he’s going to be as dramatic as possible.  He’ll get a ring pop or a shitty gumball-machine ring, get down on one knee, and say something to the tune of, “Y/N...WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?”  He’s sure to say this as over-the-top as he can, so you know it’s a joke.  He’ll probably want to do it in public, but if he knows that you’re embarrassed by that, he’ll do it privately.

Mafiaswap Papyrus (Slim): Slim is not a public person, so he’s going to ask you out privately.  Since he’s musically inclined, he’s probably going to write you a short song or jingle.  He’ll post it on YouTube, making the video private of course, and send you a link.  The song won’t be anything super romantic or anything, it’ll be sincere but light-hearted.  If you respond by sending your own song, he’s going to melt.

Mafiafell Sans (Butch): Like Sans, he’ll probably also use a joke, but much more lewd.  For example, “hey doll, wanna go to a PG-13 movie and do R rated things in the theatre?” or “want to hang out tonight?  not in a friend way, more of an i-wanna-fuck-you way.”  He’s trying.

Mafiafell Papyrus (Noir): Like all Papyruses, he loves puzzles, so he’ll probably ask you out using one.  He’ll send you on a treasure hunt that leads to a fancy restaurant where he’s waiting.  He probably rented out the whole place and threatened the staff to give him good service.  Another way is he’ll send you a jigsaw puzzle with a message on the back, like “I AM GRACING YOU WITH MY PRESENCE AT 7:00 ON SATURDAY.  MEET ME AT MY HOUSE.”  As rude as it sounds, he doesn’t want you to be able to say no.  It already took a lot of hyping up from Butch before he was able to do this, he doesn’t want you to crush his non-existant heart.

Mafiaswapfell Sans (Scar): He’s a lot more awkward than he likes to admit, so he’s probably going to ask you out over text.  This way, you won’t hear him stammer or see his blush.  Also, this way, he’s able to have Hound next to him, encouraging him and cheering him on.  It’ll probably be something like, “Y/N, WILL YOU ACCOMPANY ME ON A DATE THIS WEEKEND?” something simple that probably still took him an hour to type and send.

Mafiaswapfell Papyrus (Hound): He tries to keep his “cool guy” persona, so he’ll probably just straight up ask you.  Like if the two of you are reading together in the mansion’s library, he’ll just turn to you and ask.  “hey, wanna go out?”  If you say yes, he’ll just say “cool,” and go back to his book.  Little do you know, he’s grinning like a big dork, squealing in his head like a little girl, and Scar is outside giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

[maquina-semiotica]

Yppah, "Gumball Machine Weekend" #NowPlaying

[kissmethroughthebone]

my mother goes "you dont have to feel the need to fend for yourself around here, we can still provide for you yknow" as if my now 20 year old ass wants to beg that woman for money??? or a laundry service???? or whatnot????

like the same woman who literally STOLE my laundry and complained about how much it was a strain on HER to steal MY clothing, and how it was "smellin and shit!", (it was not, that was the smell of vinegar on my clothes you dumb bitch) when i simply politely asked her to let me do my own laundry since I had no pants to wear to my first day of work that day.....

and who, on another occasion, insisted she would help me do my laundry before, just to not let me know she simply chose not to do the original plan of getting it paid for to be washed and folded for 2 weeks....

And who I can't even write a grocery or necessity list for without her forgetting an item, complaining or laughing about what I want, etcetera etcera.........

Plus her having the audacity to call me spoiled and entitled in the past despite not asking her for shit at all, outside of her giving me the SS money that I do rightfully deserve.

And yet here she is, the same bitch who would have said "I can't afford that! Stop being lazy and just go to the laundromat!", annoyed seeing me happily pay for it myself.

Or who will see me buy my own satin bedsheets and tear up, as if she wouldn't go "Why would you need THOSE? Use THESE" and give me some shitty ones if I had asked her to try getting me them.

Or who even in the middle of conversation, heard I bought myself a new bucket for my ritualistic wall wash, and threw a FIT at me not asking her to buy one for me, (even though she legitimately threw out MY last bucket, which was in MY bathroom, lied about doing so several times until i finally got the truth, then threw 20 dollars at me angrily and somehow proclaimed it was MY fault, for "losing place of my bucket and should have kept better track of it".... which was in my space..... in the exact place i knew it was.... and claiming I barely used it anyway, like a bitch,) and just..... she is so stupid.

I'm not a child asking their mummy for 25 cents for a goddamned gumball from a candy machine, I am twenty fucking years old! And considering how she winces at even the lowest priced items, I'd say that me, with no bills or responsibilities, who can make 400 for an hour of work on a weekend while she got way way less for much more for similar jobs, can handle certain things by myself.

I did manifest that both men and women alike would love to provide for me, but alas.

So yeah, sticking to dating men for 600 bucks a pop.

[profmoonmoon]

kin memories

april 4, 2020

i decided i would post all of the memories i’ve been able to remember so far, i will probably add to this as i remember more

i was almost a hufflepuff, i was a hat-stall for so long that i thought the hat wasn’t going to let me in for being a trans werewolf

the marauders and i started getting close very early on, but i hid everything from them until they found out about me being trans in 2nd-ish (?) year when puberty had really started and somehow snape was involved with me being outed?

was able to start muggle testosterone injections (pomfrey couldn’t find a way to do it with magic), and since i was terrified of needles james had to do it for me

i can’t remember how they found out about my furry little problem

dated sirius-started talking/ flirting kind of in 4th year? and we started dating in the summer between 5th and 6th? when sirius was living with the potters

peter, james, lily, and a bunch of other gryffindors had bets placed by 5th year on when we would finally get together^^

i was close with lily, especially in our last few years at school

we used to all sneak out to to roof of gryffindor tower and smoke muggle cigarettes and drink firewhiskey, plotting prank ideas and working on the map

full moons went from being absolutely excruciating to almost fun with padfoot, prongs, and wormtail

after school, sirius rented us a flat and paid for my top surgery as no one in the wizarding world would perform any spells to do it

we stayed in hiding and only got to see harry, james, and lily a few times before everything happened

peter still gave up james and lily to voldemort and sirius still went to azkaban

i believed that sirius betrayed us and fled the wizarding world, lived in a run-down flat in london for a while, i remember working at a library and a coffee shop but the full moons became too much to handle alone

i hid away in the countryside until dumbledore asked me to be the dada professor

the shrieking shack happened the same but pettigrew didn’t escape and dumbledore was able to clear sirius’ name somehow

i still left the dada position even though it hurt not to see the kids anymore, the backlash and fear would have been too much to bear

sirius and i got back together so easily it almost felt like a dream, he was able to help me with full moons and harry lived with us in the summers

pettigrew ended being a very-much needed cog in the machine and voldemort was defeated much easier without him, sirius and i both lived even with him helping the order full-time on very dangerous assignments

i got close with molly and would help her take care of things around grimauld place, i couldn’t do too much hands-on order work like sirius, years of full moons had left me with arthritis, terrible ptsd, and a lot of other problems

——————————-

july 16, 2020

always sleepy. i could fall asleep any time, anywhere. at a desk, in a classroom, on the floor, in a tree, even standing up sometimes. if you woke me up too early on the weekends you’d better be ready to face certain death.

sweaters and plaid pajamas pants on the second i didn’t have to be wearing uniform, usually with a mug of tea and a book in my hand, curled up in an armchair in a cozy corner of the gryffindor common room.

appease annoyance with chocolate. also a valid payment method, especially if it’s the good kind.

slept curled up in a very small ball with too many blankets.

almost always the last one up, sirius usually having to drag me out of bed by the ankle onto the floor to try and catch the end of breakfast.

lily and i used to have very heated (but still friendly) debates for hours, or even days, on end. usually it would turn into near shouting in the middle of the common room. all the first years thought we actually hated each other because of this, but i loved the intellectual challenge we provided each other.

color-coded notes and planner. stationary obsession.

we all shared a vinyl collection that started when we found a near-perfect condition record player at a “novelty” muggle shop. it was one of the only useful items in there, but james and sirius dragged us all in constantly to look at all the “funny little trinkets.” (one time they spent almost a half an hour marveling over a gumball machine) when the store got ballpoint pens in i thought their heads were going to explode so i bought them each one to play with in the dorm. they draw crude doodles of us and then used a charm to permanently stick them to our walls.

hot chocolate “parties” in the hospital wing after full moons. no marshmallows for james, extra for peter and sirius.

stupid socks, usually not matching and usually falling down.

fantastic at making saturday morning breakfast (but at like.... noon.)

all of the cats on the grounds used to flock to me and i would be late to class sometimes because i wanted to scritch behind all of their ears.

always cold. blankets, big scarves, hot drinks, sitting next to fireplaces, multiple sweaters, stealing sirius’ jackets (especially the leather one)

eventually got an enchanted lunar cycle tattoo to keep track of the full moon easier.

constant tally of whose made the best wolf puns.

books, E V E R Y W H E R E

—————————

i desperately want to find my sirius, james, harry and lily. i miss my friends, my pack, more than anything in the world. i would also love to find anyone else who remembers any of this.

[comixconnection]

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