#i was thinking of nightmares by alice glass when i wrote the tag that i think made u send this. for ford

[dippersguidetotheunexplained]

okay okay what songs do YOU associate with ford/the characters?

for ford: little dark age by mgmt but only this specific version i recorded on UVB-76 aka "the buzzer" station during a period of heightened pirate activity

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

KEEPING UP WITH THE ARIZAS

Chapter 1: “The lost ring”

Word count: 1k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Vicki's house.

“So, you've lost your wedding ring”. Bishop says with pursed lips, nodding for a second.

“Yes”. Riz is drinking a glass of dry whisky at ten am.

“Man, you're fucked”. Creeper breaks in loud laughter, after some seconds in silence.

“I'm gonna hide here, till I remember where the fuc' I left it”.

Taza, on the other hand, is focused on his phone writing god knows what. Feeling all the eyes on him, the older raises his gaze at the men around him. He shrugs his shoulders with innocence and feigned confusion.

“What 'you doin', man?” Riz asks, being aware that he doesn't want to know the answer.

“Just preparing your funeral”. Che says locking his phone to keep it in a pocket.

The laughs flood the living room, while Riz is praying all he knows. Vicki narrows and palms one of his shoulders, with a funny sigh on her lips.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Snorting and rolling on the mattress between the sheets, you turn towards the nightstand. It's too early to attend club's business. But when you see a lot of messages from your father, you frown. Sitting on the bed with your back against the wooden headboard, you read it. You can't help but laughing, imagine how he has to be after know what it's happening and why he left the house so early. It's another time to annoy your husband, turning to the other nightstand where the wedding ring is on.

A good way to start on Monday.

You practically jump off of the bed, getting undressed on your way to the shower. It doesn't takes you more than ten minutes, being ready to keep your stuff in your bag, carrying it in your shoulders. You also, and of course, take the ring to putting it inside your pocket. With the helmet hanging on the left forearm, you put on your sunglasses, before leaving home.

Driving your motorbike totally calm, your first stopping is in a jewelry store run by one of your best friends. You don't take off the helmet, walking in with a big smile on your face.

“I need a gold string, love”. You say, giving her two kisses.

“A present for Riz?”

“More like a punishment”.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?”. Alice breaks in laugh, walking towards the exhibitor looking for one of Riz style.

“He has lost our wedding ring and now, my lovely husband, is hiding at Vicki's house terrified. But my dad wrote me to tell me. So I'm gonna give him a lesson”. You're supporting your body on the main desk, while you're trying to find your wallet.

“Don't worry, I got it”. She says laughing, shaking a hand to let you know that it's a present.

Taking the string, you put the ring in it before keeping it back to the pocket.

“I wake up everyday asking myself when he's gonna ask you for the divorce”.

“I do the same”. You nod with a funny smile, before leaving the store.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Parking your motorbike by the side of Angel's, you hang the helmet on the handlebar, walking inside the house next to the mexican border. Everybody is laughing, enjoying some drinks with the girls, till you appear raising the sunglasses towards the root of your mane. Riz spits his whisky, before leaving it on the table to getting up.

“Mi vida! What 'you doin' here?” He says, trying to hide his trembling. “Damn, you look beautiful on Mondays”.

He kisses you, but you don't move a single inch of your body. He knows it, turning to Taza for a while, who shrinks with pursed lips.

“Don' ya' think she's beautiful today, uh?”

He asks for help with terrified eyes, getting a “yeah!”, “beautiful”, “muy bonita!”, “hermosa!” from the crew, clearing their throats and nodding exaggeratedly.

“Did you lose something... Michael?”

“Yeah, yeah... My ass when I met you”. He disguised placing his hands behind his own back.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Don' you feel... naked?”

“Nope... But if my awesome and amazing and lovely wife wants it, I'll get naked”.

“Fuck off, Riz!”

“Why are you so fuckin' asshole?” He turns to your father desperate, gesticulating with both hands. “I thought we were mates!”

“Till you started to fuck my baby”. The older answers, lifting up his beer like he was cheering, before having a sip.

“Eh, focus. I'm talking to you”. You palm his nape in a soft slap.

“Mi vida, I swear I'm gonna find it and stick it on my finger”. He says begging to don't make you feel more enraged.

“No, you know wh...?”

“Please, don't divorce me!” Riz interrupts you truly affected for what he thinks you're gonna tell him.

“My only goal in life is to make yours a nightmare”.

EZ breaks into laughs and coughs, 'cause he was drinking when he heard you. Angel palms hard his back, provoking the laughs of the others. But your eyes are on Riz's permanently. Opening the pocket on your chest, you take off the golden string, placing it between both faces to show him the ring in it. But, before he can take it with anxiety, you move it away some inches.

“You're gonna hang it, wearing a collar like the pinche dog you are”. You warn him, pointing your husband with your forefinger.

He barks one time, taking it off of your hand to wear it in his neck. “Shit, I missed you, mate. I thought I lost you”.

“And you... don' be a sneak! It's not funny when I can't be all day pissing him off!” You say this time to your father, who feels that he is gasping for laughter.

“Fuc', baby, I love you”. Riz places an arm surrounding your shoulders and taking your cheeks with his fingers of the other hand to kiss you once and again, truly happy. Mostly because you're not gonna punch him on the face.

[crykea]

i had @captaincravatthecapricious for the @tma-secret-snickerdoodle so i wrote a fic :) i know the word limit was 1000 but i got a bit carried away ;; enjoy ! this is ccrossposted on ao3!

Title: i know i probably should--

Pairings: Jonathan Sims & Alice “Daisy” Tonner, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood (a bit)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, Platonic cuddling

Summary:  Jon and Daisy both have nightmares. While their experience isn’t the same, they can still sympathize with one another and help the best they can.

A cool tendril of recognition drips from Jon’s eyes as he stares straight ahead. His eyes are watering from not blinking, but his brain is too scrambled. It feels as though if he even dares to look away, those greasy, cold hands will take him. As he stands, tare are already a couple of-- dozen-- a few-- some hands-- arms-- fingers-- hands-- his hands-- a few hands gripping tightly onto him-- his-- him-- his-- its?-- a pair of arms. Tears stream down his cheeks and he isn’t sure their water and not blood. 

Dark thoughts slip through a mind-- his mind like ink, coating his brain. His brain? His brain. His Brain. His brain is collapsing under the weight of intensely hot knowledge and intensely cool emptiness. An older woman’s voice creaks out from a tape recorder that stands in front of him adjusting its glasses. He hasn’t had his head crushed in yet, but there’s no time to stop what hasn’t already happened. He is a failure. He could have stopped this. There is no way out of the wax institute. The Magnus museum. Wax Museum. 

A mannequin reaches out a hand. It holds Jon’s chin, tilting it from side to side-- up and down-- A shoulder slams into his from behind. Connected to the shoulder is a muscular light brown arm. There are holes in the arm-- his arm-- no-- his-- his arm is connected to a body which is connected to a--

Tim is holding a remote control tightly in his grasp-- Jon’s hand is shaking around the-- Tim’s-- The hands that are Tim’s shake around the remote in his hand which is not melting and is not a tape recorder. 

“Tim.” A question exists in his head that sits dormant in his tone. A fist connects with a face. One of those is his probably-- a face, “What do you see?”

“I see my--” Fire-- An explosion-- The vacuum of unending heat interrupts The-- Tim, and Jon sat up coated in sweat and shaking in the safe room cot. The heat had kicked on in the archives, and the safe room, which was sealed tight enough to trap air in, seems to have heated intolerably in the-- Jon looks at his phone-- three hours he had been asleep.

The cot creaked as he stood up, picking his cell phone up off the floor. Three in the morning, and nothing to do. He supposed he could go out for a walk to get some fresh air if he was feeling particularly brave, but with his track record, he knew that wasn’t actually an option. Sighing, he rolled his neck and stretched the cramps from his back and shoulders. He popped some earbuds from the desk into his ears, and switched on The Archers, heading to the door.

If he couldn’t go for a normal walk outside, a walk around the Institute would have to do. He just hoped that his walking didn’t wake his coworkers who were sleeping beneath him in the tunnels. There was always work to do and statements to record if he wanted, but the dream left a bad taste in his mouth, and he found he wasn’t hungry. His hands continued to shake where they were locked around his phone. The breathing exercises didn’t seem to do anything to calm his jitters, and he was sure his little walk around the dark hallways of the Institute wasn’t helping his nerves at all.

After ten minutes, he turned off the audio drama but kept the earbuds in. Nowadays when he was constantly bombarded by high definition stimuli, it was nice to have the earbuds in muffling one of his senses. Five minutes after that, he came to the decision that the walk was doing nothing for him. He quietly made his way back to the Archives to sit in the soft old couch that sat in the break room. His breath was still shaky, but it wasn’t coming as fast as it had been.

As he turned the corner, he noticed a shadowy figure in the hall, and he immediately jumped back from it. The shaking, which had also somewhat died down, started up again with fervour as he tugged the buds from his ears, and clasped a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing. The click of hard-soled shoes made its way slowly down the hallway in his direction, slow, stalking, he should run he should--

It was hard to breathe with his hand covering his mouth, but he didn’t want to alert whatever it was walking toward him that he was there, or that he was afraid of them. Eventually, the footsteps stopped before the corner he was hidden behind. He silently cursed himself for not bringing a weapon of some sort. Melanie’s knife would do a great deal in making him feel more secure, but even Martin’s corkscrew would have worked in a flash. Time seemed to move at a slower pace as Jon resolved himself, and jumped out, arms up in a blocking position, to face the creature.

He collided with it-- her?-- however, as they seemed to both have the same idea.

“Jon?!” 

“Daisy?!” The two stood tangled together as they’d tried to right themselves upon colliding, looking incredulously at the other, “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing?” Daisy said, moving her arms from where they were wrapped around Jon’s back to grip his shoulders so that she could step away, clearing her throat as she did so, “In the spirit of openness, I had a nightmare. Didn’t want to wake Basira with it. It’s stupid, nevermind.”

“That’s not stupid. I mean, I did the same.” He stood for a moment, shuffling his hands about his pockets, and twirling his earphone cord, “Do you want to...talk about it?”

“I think I’d like a drink.”

“Well I don’t think any of the local bars are--”

“Of water, Jonathan.”

“Ah. Yes of course. Right, this way.” He rubbed his knuckles over his mouth awkwardly as though miming sealing his lips. They walked in silence together to the break room. Upon arriving, he busied himself with filling a glass of water for Daisy. It was nice to have something to do with his hands. Maybe this was why Martin was always--

He filled the kettle and pulled down a couple of mugs from the cupboard.

“Do you like hot chocolate?” He asked, already reaching up to pull down the container. He had to stand on his toes to even reach the top shelf and eventually had to crawl partially onto the counter. It had been a very long time since he’d had hot chocolate. He usually stuck to coffee or tea, these days. Besides, the container was placed out of reach on purpose. Sure, Martin could have grabbed it, but he didn’t really have a sweet tooth and hadn’t drunk hot chocolate since he was 24 years old and out on a date with--

He closed the door, which had cracked open without his knowledge. The only person who could reach the container was Tim, and no one had ever thought to get rid of it after the… Jon took a deep breath, frozen hugging the container to his chest, allowing the scent of chocolate to drift up to him. He felt his eyes water and realized he hadn’t heard Daisy respond.

Slowly, he spun around, repeating the question. The direct question snapped Daisy out of a reverie-- so he hadn’t missed a response then-- and Jon distantly noted that she had been scratching painfully in lines up and down her forearms. At her quiet acknowledgement, which Jon took as a yes, he divvied up the powder between glasses and poured the now boiled water. Daisy took a sip of her water as if she’d forgotten it was there in the first place.

Jon sat down, just far enough away to give Daisy room while still being on the same couch. She made a sound and gestured with her hands, and her water glass, to come closer, so he did. She laid her head on his shoulder leading him to instinctively place his head on top of hers. If she was feeling trapped, Jon knew she would tell him or at least push him away.

“Is it weird that I miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Being in the buried?” Daisy’s voice was quiet and crackly.

“I don’t think it’s strange to miss something like that. After 8 months I think it becomes a new normal, so it’s only natural to miss it in a way, I suppose.” He reached over to pick up his hot chocolate from the table, not finding it in his to drink it. It seemed so small, insignificant and silly to get emotional over a cup of hot chocolate. “Is that what your dream was about?”

Daisy made a noise of acknowledgement instead of answering, choosing to take another sip of her water instead. They sat in silence for another while before Daisy moved closer to Jon.

“Did you want to talk about yours?” She asked quickly followed by an, “Is this okay? I kind of need touch right now, but I can back off if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Ah, uh, yes it’s fine. It was about the Unknowing. It was about Tim. And Nikola. Fire.” His voice was halting, so he took a drink of his warm hot chocolate, and wrapped an arm around Daisy’s shoulders.

“You don’t have to say if you can’t or don’t want to,” Daisy said carefully. Jon hummed around the lid of the mug. Daisy set her glass of water down on the table. “Do you want a distraction, or is the silence better?”

“Quiet, I think. Touch is good too. What about you?”

“Quiet as well.” She replied simply before moving her arms to wrap around his middle. 

Daisy was warm just like the ceramic mug in his hand, and Jon slowly felt himself begin to drift. He eventually set the now-cold mug of hot chocolate down on the table in front of them and collapsed into Daisy. He could have sworn she was half asleep, but as soon as he leaned down to bury his face in her shoulder, she brought up a hand to run through his hair. The ministrations slowed with Daisy’s breath, and wrapped up in warmth with the calming rhythm of Daisyu’s breath, Jon felt himself drift off as well.

Martin knew that his coworkers were sleeping at the Institute now, but it was usually incredibly easy to avoid them as long as he got to work early in the morning. Without the pressure to work, the bunch of them had no qualms with sleeping in, and barely working anymore at all it seemed. Jon was usually awake early, but as long as Martin kept his trip to the Archives just to the breakroom to fill his thermos, he usually had no issues. 

As the sun rose, fog rose around him, leaching the golden rays from the air before they could reach him fully. He shivered and drew his cardigan tighter around himself. The Institute always seemed to be shrouded in shadow, and this morning was no different. He let himself into the building with Peter’s keys (it wasn’t like he needed them), and stretched, wincing as his back and shoulders popped.

It was strange to come into work before any of the staff got there. There was an odd sense of peace that he got from being the only one there-- the only one awake-- that only came with being up early. Rosie’s desk was empty, but she had a new bouquet of flowers sitting on her desk beside her mouse, which, if Martin had to guess, were probably from Sonja. She would probably be popping the question any day now. Martin was distantly sad that he’d have to miss it.

In the archives, the desks were empty. Melanie had forgotten to turn off her computer again, but Martin didn’t care. They could waste all the electricity they wanted in the place; it wasn’t like Martin was the one paying the utility bills. As he pushed through the doors that led deeper into the archives, he took note of the empty desks. The breakroom was just down the corner and it was early enough that there was no way he would run into anyone, but he still found himself quieting his footsteps as much as possible. 

He jumped when he turned the corner to the breakroom, immediately crushing down the urge to turn tail and run. Daisy and Jon sat tangled together on the breakroom couch, two cold mugs of hot chocolate and a glass of water forgotten in front of them. He stood frozen for a moment until he heard Daisy snore quietly. They were asleep.

Pushing his luck, he quietly crept into the room, filled the kettle, and turned it on. It might have been creepy, but he stood for a moment just watching the two of them. They were so close together that he couldn’t tell whether it was Jon who was in Daisy’s lap or Jon in Daisy’s, but Daisy had one hand in his hair, and Jon had his arm slung around Daisy’s neck. Martin waited for the usual jealousy to bubble inside of him, but all he found was a chilling numbness. The kettle finished boiling behind him.

On the counter beside the kettle was a container or hot chocolate. Tim’s container of hot chocolate. That stung. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes before closing the container and placing it back on Tim’s shelf. He couldn’t help but look for a blanket to cover the two on the couch as he left the room. Daisy stirred slightly in her sleep, making him retreat quickly, although, by her breathing, it seemed as though she’d gone right back to sleep.

Even though he didn’t have it in him to hold much emotion these days, he felt a little trickle of warmth in his heart. He was doing the right thing. It was all okay. It was worth it. The elevator doors closed behind him as he ascended to the top floor.

[artnerd1123]

DTRH!AU Masterpost

Moving into a new post since I’ve got stuff actually organized!!! It’ll likely get an update from time to time. Apologies to those whom the read more breaks for ‘^^

Everything to do with this au will be tagged #dtrh!au or #down the rabbit hole au Individual characters are tagged with #dtrh![name] 

Here’s an AU PMV for starters! 

Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?

Putting this up here so it doesn’t get super buried- Here’s the fic(s) set in this AU! All Moving Pictures End 

The AU crash course: The premise behind the au is that everything takes place in a pocket dimension controlled by a black magic script. Joey Drew is the one who’s writing/editing this script, and his rewrites affect the world and the characters within it. His constant reshaping eventually twists the world from a sitcom genre to a horror film- hence the horror esque setting, creatures, and plot. The characters didn’t escape the rewrites’ effects either. They’re warped into corrupted versions of themselves. However, these characters end up becoming sentient after awhile. The first one of these to become entirely sentient is Henry. He’s currently the only one who’s all the way out of alignment. A toon gone rogue, if you will. He still goes along with Joey’s “plot,” but it’s more so he can try to reach the other characters than to keep Joey happy or unaware of his actions. His goal is to basically “wake up” the other characters, so they can all stop living in a hellish nightmare studio and actually try and make something nice out of their home. He’s extremely dedicated to his goal. 

Character time!!! toon trio refs / corrupted refs  butcher gang refs / corrupted refs  toon henry ref  toon sammy ref / corrupted sammy ref  toon susie ref / corrupted susie ref  toon allison and tom refs / corrupted allison and tom refs  joey ref / toon joey ref  toon norman ref / corrupted ref  toon bertrum ref / corrupted ref  toon and corrupted grant refs  toon jack ref / corrupted jack ref  toon wally ref / corrupted wally ref  toon and corrupted lacie refs  toon and corrupted shawn refs 

Character relationships/orientations 

Concept art, anyone? toon trio concept work (w/ bonus corrupted bendy n alice) corrupted boris/alice concept work (ft bonus hen) butcher gang concept work (w/ corrupted forms) henry concept work sammy concept work (and more henry) susie concept work joey concept work corrupted norman concept work toon norman concept work  throwing around lost ones ideas 

Misc stuff Henry, but Goop™  Susie and Studio Tea™  Hey Henry, how do u feel about Joey?  Yo hold up, hen and polk are a thing???  Henry’s glasses saga  Regular studio shenanigans 

FAQ: 

How many of the employees are gonna show up? Hopefully all the named ones in the game! Once they’ve got a design, they’re guaranteed to show up somewhere.

Are they really carbon copies of the employees? Is there nothing different about them and their irl counterparts? They started as carbon copies! Latching onto their old traits and their old selves does help them come to their senses. However, different character development happens in script than IRL, so they end up different. Henry, for example, takes up the last name “Ross” when he wakes up (instead of his IRL counterpart’s “Stien”) to differentiate himself :0

So is everyone corrupted on purpose? Yes and no. Yes, because Joey chose to rewrite the script so much that it mangled characters, but no, because he didn’t intend to mangle them in the first place. It just kinda happened.

What makes them corrupted? Corruption is what happens when you can’t hold onto the core of what your character is, and get dragged into what the new script is telling you. It’s when you lose sight of who you are among all the chaos. People who are drawn farther away from their actual selves end up more monstrous. Susie (aka “alice” angel) is a great example of this. Bendy is too! Far be it from his real nature to be a murderous monster.

So can the toons be uncorrupted? Yup! Henry’s our model citizen this time. He looks more like a toon than a normal person, sure, but there’s nothing monstrous about him. That’s because he’s latched onto what makes him Henry. He’s not letting the instability of the world around him shake him up. Otherwise he’d be a goopy mess of ink.

Why’d Joey write everyone so differently that they corrupted? He’s actually very out of touch with people once he starts rewriting the script. Since his memories are getting foggy, he fixates on details that he can remember, and exaggerates them as needed. In fact, he’s hidden tape recorders around the script studio as built in reminders of these character traits.

How’d Henry wake up? And how does he plan on waking everyone else up? Ok… this is a longer answer. It all comes together, i promise. Jus hang with me. Whenever henry dies, he gets sent back to a sort of “first draft” stage. In order to get back to the world he’s supposed to exist in, he has to get through all the layers of ink Joey put down to get to his current script. As one can imagine… there’s a lot. So much so that Henry has to essentially swim to the surface. As he passes through all this ink, he can hear whispers of previous scripts. The deeper he is, the closer these whispers are to what the world used to be like. Seeing as Henry is the protagonist, he ended up dying… a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Joey had a lot of snags in the script to work out. All these times sent into the draft-y ink soup made made Henry slowly realize what was going on. He wasn’t mindless anymore. He knew what was up. After realizing that the world wasn’t right, it didn’t take him long to push for the rest of his consciousness. He plans on using what whispers and memories he can gather to bring everyone else back. He’s not dying on purpose, mind you, but he gathers as much information as he can to help everyone else realize that they’re not who they’re supposed to be.

Wait, memories? Does Henry remember the past scripts now? Not quite? He’s got a good enough memory stockpile to keep himself centered, but he doesn’t always know what’s up ahead as he heads through another studio loop. If Joey happens to rewrite or change around the script, those patches of Henry’s memory blip out of existence. Or at least get hazy. Hen can often tell if Joey’s changed something by how many holes he has in his memories.

Can anyone in the pocket dimension get out? Henry’s the only one who can get out! Joey literally wrote him a back door to the script. It used to be so he could talk to Henry whenever the “story” was over, but nowadays it’s just to judge how fast plot goes via how quickly Hen gets back. All Henry can manage to do is walk around and stare silently. And he can’t even stay out very long. Ink’s unstable in the real world. Gotta go back in n start the horror show over if u wanna live :/

Can Joey go in? Nope! Since he’s not made of ink, he can’t go in. He can watch tho!!! He does so via writing POV shifts into the script, and watches through whatever character it shifted to. Who needs cameras when u got the eyes of black magic toons n inky monsters ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Does Joey know Henry is sentient now? Nnnnot quite? He thinks the magic is being screwy with him. He can’t switch POV to Henry anymore, since the toon’s taken control of himself, and that’s real confusing since the writer doesn’t know what’s up. Plus, like mentioned above, Hen can’t exactly give Joey a sign once he gets out of the studio. Bummer :/

Is Joey gonna majorly rewrite the script any time soon? Nope. He’s to attached to his current plot to change the genre or anythin, so it’s gonna stay as is. With some changes here and there. One musn’t underestimate how many times u can change the order of scenes, or improve dialogue... 

AU Background:

((this is long as shiz, so get some popcorn slfkjs))

Y’all probably wanna know how this whole horror show started. I’ve got two words for ya: Joey Drew. Unsurprising! But he’s our starting point nonetheless. Joey Drew is the retired owner of Joey Drew Studios, a cartoon studio that ran itself into the ground after a decade or two of fantastical cartoons. Money problems aren’t kind to the entertainment industries. However, the studio was still his pride and joy! As are the friends who stuck by him or met him during the time it was open. He kept up with all of them through the years. They were like a little family. Unfortunately, time has a way of changing things. With his friends drifting away, living their own lives, getting up in years, or a combination of the three, Joey wasn’t doing too well. He was lonely. Feeling washed up. Missing the glory days, where he helped work on cartoon scripts instead of submitting horror and mystery shorts to local magazines. Not all that surprising that he turned to something else to cope. This thing being none other than occult magic. Because… of course it is. It’s a habit he’s had for years. Nothing like some demonic rituals to spice up the life of the creative mind behind kids’ cartoons! Especially fun when you’re a man with poor impulse control and a wild imagination. In any case, Joey summons the three main characters of his beloved cartoon series. Bendy, Alice, and Boris! (I refer to these three as the “toon trio.”) He was just as happy that he’d managed to bring them to life as he was to have them around the house. It was like having slightly unruly grandkids with toony superpowers. In other words, they were absolutely delightful!!! He took care of them and admired their antics. It was a great time. … until. Well. It wasn’t. Turns out things that don’t belong in this world get rejected eventually. After a few months, things started go go wayward. The toon trio had difficulties maintaining their forms, moving, engaging in tropes, and a ton of other things. They were miserable. Joey was understandably heartbroken to see this happen to his poor toons. So, like any good person, he tried to do the right thing: put them back on the paper they came from. It didn’t end up working exactly how he’d expected. Everything comes with a price when you mess with demonic ink. The magic not only created a stack of paper instead of a series of drawings, but latched onto an old fountain pen and Joey’s closet. If the closet thing seems odd, it is. But it’s a convenient place to hide ritual pentagrams! So, closet it is. Upon frantic examination of the papers, Joey discovered it was a script. A black magic infused script. Three names up top told him the toon trio were the only characters. A bit of experimentation led him to discover that the magic-infused pen was the only thing that could interact with the script properly. Further experimentation showed him that the script had made his closet into a pocket dimension. The contents? Whatever was in his new script. This is where the real fun begins. The new magic script practically floored Joey with awe. He had a world he could shape however he wished! He could run all those scripts he’d never gotten to put in production! He could watch his toons frolick! He could even use it to play with ideas he’d never gotten to explore. The possibilities were endless! 

((Of course, you might be wondering if Joey… y’know. Knew the toons were still alive. Because they were, they were just living in a pocket dimension now. In short? No. He didn’t. He carefully tested a few things with the script, just to make sure. All the toons did was what he wrote down. They moved like they were alive, but didn’t act that way. Plus, the dimension made them blank slates. They didn’t have any characterization in there to make them truly alive. So! For all intents and purposes? He saw them as you would any other character you write. A visual extension of his imagination. Ok mini rant over, back to the story--))

Playing with the toons was amazing. Joey hadn’t had fun like that in years! It was his little secret world, populated by his cherished toons. He could make believe whatever he wished. Eventually, though, loneliness started to catch back up to the old man. His friends… his family… life… it all went on. He just felt left behind. And what does Joey do when he doesn’t feel good? Not cope healthily, that’s for sure. Onwards to more occult magic! Only this time, he tries something… different. The toons were lonely. They deserved company. They deserved someone to take care of them. A familiar face. Maybe someone who helped Joey create them in the first place. Someone who’d just sent Mr. Drew an old letter and a card, since he hadn’t seen him in awhile… … someone like Henry. Using the magic pen, Joey traced over Henry’s note. Far from ruining the precious letter, it transferred “Henry” into the script. It’s not the real one! Basically a carbon copy, fresh from the time period that Hen first wrote the note in. Seeing as Henry’s letter came from around the time the cartoon studio was going strong, it’s an old version of him. But it was still Joey’s old friend. Just… toony. Toon Henry reacted just as his living friend would. If he wrote dialogue? He spoke it like Henry would. If he wrote some action? The toon put a classic Henry twist on it. Delighted, Joey returned to his script with renewed vigor. Toon Henry got to spend plenty of quality with the toon trio as the days went on. Thus began a trend of toonification. Missing one of his old friends? All Joey had to do was grab something with their old handwriting on it, and trace them into the script! There’s a carbon copy that acts just like the real deal! A fine compromise, right? … Right? Not exactly. It was fine at first. Joey made what could probably qualify as a sitcom-style story for the toony world to run on. His friends, at this point, all populated the studio. The premise was that the toons (now including the butcher gang!) had been summoned while he was still running the studio, and got up to hijinks with the rest of the employees. A hefty dose of actual studio drama- turned comedic, of course- kept the whole thing almost real. Joey even featured himself once or twice, but only in allusions, or a disembodied voice. He wasn’t about to let a carbon copy of himself have all the fun. It made him feel less lonely. More included. A fantasy world of never ending fun and heartwarming moments. How unfortunate it is that life doesn’t follow this pattern. Morality is a hard thing to come to terms with. So is sickness. Especially that of a friend. … it was just one rewrite at first. One alteration on a bad day. After all, using writing to cope is perfectly acceptable. One bad episode in the midst of sunshine doesn’t discount it all. One uncanny occurrence, though, doesn’t usually stay singular. It didn’t take long for the solitary rewrite to become two rewrites. Then three. Four. Six. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. More and more and more. Until the happy honey colored studio slipped into sinister sepia. This wasn’t the old script anymore. Not by a long shot.

The setting? A studio of shattered dreams.   Your protagonist? Henry. His goal? Survive long enough to escape.

~It’s quite th͝e̵͞͏ ͠M̕a͘sţe̛̕r͘p̕i̵͝e̡ḉe̡̨͜~̡̛

[lestvt]

Tagging Game

Tagged by @princelesthottie​ :)))))

How tall are you? 5′6′’

What color are your eyes? blue (with hints of green) 

Do you wear glasses/contacts? nope

Do you wear Braces? when i was 11-13. i also have a permanent brace on the inside of my bottom front teeth

Whats your fashion style? im a goth boy/girl piece of shit so... black and lace and fishnets and velvet and w/e, ya know?? but also every variation of goth you can think of, i have an outfit for - 90′s goth, pastel goth, gothic lolita, casual goth, etc., it’s a work in progress...  

When were you born? a long, long time ago in a distant land (chicago, 1995)

Do you have siblings? i have two older brothers and an older sister, who are 37, 35, and 25 respectively  

What kind of student were/are you? i mean i always got straight A’s, and i was a total teacher’s pet/overachiever. when i was younger i was in every club i could think of - student council, book club, show choir, etc. high school i spent mostly in the hospital, so there’s that... but i’ve been in college for a few years now and i’ve only ever gotten 1 B alongside my many A’s, which is nice. not that school really has anything to do with intelligence, but i consider myself a well-read person at the very least      

What were/are your favorite subjects? english/writing, history, and now anthropology  

Favorite movies? alien, jurassic park, star wars, interview with the vampire, kill bill, the lotr movies, etc. 

Favorite pastimes? writing/reading mostly, also drawing, writing music, dancing, watching youtube (funhaus, polygon, sugar pine 7, game grumps, mr. sark, etc.), listening to podcasts (dude soup, mbmbam, h3h3′s podcast, and various d&d podcasts), being mean to my friends, etc.    

What’s your dream job? i’m studying archaeology currently (i just changed my major...), and i plan to teach it, but my REAL dream is to be an author, which, considering how much i write, seems pretty plausible. also i think i’d make a pretty sick comedian ;))) 

Would you like to get married? i dont believe in marriage. marriage is an institution, marriage is like slavery.... and in this day and age its pointless if not for the tax breaks it affords you. so, no.   

Do you want kids? not really, i’m a very selfish person with little to no patience for raising a child. maybe i’ll change my mind in the distant future, but currently i’d rather dig out my own reproductive organs through my bellybutton with a spoon, thanks very much 

How many countries have you visited? i’ve never left the USA, but i’ve been all over the country. my mom loves to travel and has been taking me on trips since i was an infant. 

Scariest dream? i used to have a lot of reoccuring nightmares about school - usually that i’d be lost in the building and miss class, or that i couldnt find a way out and was trapped inside. but since college those dreams have kind of dissipated, and now i often dream of moving into a big, haunted mansion of sorts. but those aren’t usually nightmares, just interesting manifestations of my every day stress and fear of change. 

but in october of 2017 i had a really vivid, really disturbing dream in which i died and went to purgatory, which took the form of a small community of people being hunted by “monsters.” it was so detailed and lovecraftian that i wrote the whole thing down as soon as i woke up and decided to make a novel out of it. (this isn’t really important, but i also want to mention that in the dream i wasn’t myself, i was louis... and lestat was there, which was weird, but i omitted that part for the sake of making it an original story)   

Significant other? /looks into a mirror, “hey babe”

First 15 on your playlist without skipping:

1. Scary Love - The Neighborhood 

2. Don’t Delete the Kisses - Wolf Alice

3. Your Song (Cover) - Lady Gaga

4. Say Amen (Saturday Night) - Panic! At the Disco

5. Chocolate - The 1975

6. Saturday Sun - Vance Joy

7. American Money - BORNS 

8. Nights In White Satin - The Moody Blues

9. Blue - Marina & the Diamonds 

10. Waste A Moment - Kings of Leon 

11. Perfect Skin - Peace

12. Could’ve Been Me - The Struts 

13. Get Out - CHVRCHES  

14. Wolves - Selena Gomez, Marshmello  

15. I Don’t Want U Back - BORNS 

Tagging: no one cuz im an anti-social jerk, as always 

[starlightafterastorm]

11 Questions Tag!

I was tagged by the lovely @theheavycrown​. Sorry for getting to this days later!

💛 💙 Riverdale themed questions!  💙 💛

My 11 questions for you are…

1. If you could see Cole & Lili act their parts of Bughead in any movie AU, what would it be?

This is a tough question because that is exactly the plot of my next Bughead AU fic “TOP SECRET TITLE HAS BEEN REDACTED FOR SECRECY”

I will say that it is a movie that has been featured heavily on my blog before and is one of my favorites of all time. 

OTHER THAN THAT. I’d love to see Cole and Lili/Betty and Jughead in a real noir classic. Casablanca or The Big Sleep. I’m also very partial to Key Largo. Something with Bogie and/or Bacall in it. 

2. If you could switch two characters positions in Riverdale, while maintaining their personality, which switch would you want to see?

I think I’d love to see any of the Core Four switch. How interesting would it be to either the girls or the boys switch roles in terms of economic status and circumstance? Or all four of them switch around? 

Also, an interesting switch would be Kevin and Reggie. Can you imagine sassy, cocky, and not the brightest bulb in the box Reggie as Betty’s closest guy friend and confidant vs Kevin, totally out of the closet and peppy but slightly antagonistic and Archie’s football rival? 

3. Bughead is getting married - describe the wedding. (Colors? Flowers? Theme? Cake? Decor? Readings? as ideas)

Here’s the thing. Betty and Jughead wanted to elope. They TRIED TO ELOPE. Multiple times. But something happened every single time. When Veronica found out she immediately demanded she be allowed to throw them their wedding. And Veronica goes all out. 

I’m thinking a sky blue color scheme matched with soft peaches and cool pastels. It’s held in a garden and Betty has some peach colored roses, so pale they’re almost white, wrapped with a blue ribbon and dotted with crystals as her bouquet. 

Everything is all delicate white lace and rose petals and Betty has flowers weaved into her hair. 

The cake is a giant 7 tiered monstrosity Veronica had ordered from a famous chef with chocolate layers and vanilla layers and a strawberry layer and even a lemon layer somewhere in the middle. It’s decorated very simply with sugar flowers tumbling down the side and golden crowns and stars mixed in. 

4. What is Jughead’s favorite food that Betty makes?

French toast with berries and powdered sugar and syrup. It’s the kind of breakfast Alice would make but then monitor Betty’s portions. The kind of breakfast that Jughead only ever got if he had enough cash to spare at Pop’s  or if Fred was feeling fancy after Jughead slept over. It’s not super elaborate but it’s fiddly enough that it’s not an every day kind of breakfast. French toast is for luxurious saturdays or lazy sundays. French toast is for pampering sick days or silly breakfast-for-dinners. French toast means sharing a plate piled high and fighting over the last berry and sweet kisses that linger for hours. 

5. If Jughead could have any superpower, what do you think he would choose?

I think Jughead would choose telekinesis. So often Jughead has so little control over his life that I think he would choose telekinesis, a power that allows you to physically control the environment around you. 

6. What do you think Betty’s favorite romcom would  be?

Legally Blonde. Betty has a weakness for Reese Witherspoon in general. Sometimes it’s a “Just Like Heaven” night. Sometimes she feels like “Sweet Home Alabama”. (Jughead complains but he honestly really loves Sweet Home Alabama too. He uses the “So I can kiss you any time I want” line all the time. Also he sulks when Betty won’t let him try to make glass sculptures during thunderstorms)

7. Bughead is going on their honeymoon, if price was no object, where would they go?

They’d go on a food tour through Italy. Sitting in the sun, walking through the vineyards, and eating all the pasta they could possibly stand. 

8. If Betty had a tumblr, and she could have any url, what would it be?

nightmarewithlipstick (which is actually a real tumblr though it seems to be empty?)

It’s based off of the Toni Morrison quote “A dream is just a nightmare with lipstick” from her novel “Love”. I’ve not read it but I plan on it and I have no doubt Betty has read it. Something about that quote just jumps out at me and I love the phrasing of it and the darker hints of duality that I think would appeal to Betty

9. If you could hang out with the Core Four for the day, what hang out activities would you want to do?

Eat at Pop’s. lol. Do they ever do any other hanging out activity? Watch a movie at the Drive-In probably. Somehow convince Veronica and Betty to go all out in a shopping spree complete with spa treatments afterwards. (No seriously what other normal teenage hanging out activities are they allowed to do?)

10. What do you imagine the first song Archie attempted to learn on guitar was?

Ok bear in mind I never played guitar but I did play piano and my best friend plays guitar. I think Archie would have chosen something super simple like a children’s song. Mary Had A Little Lamb. (For the feels: It also reminded him of his mother, Mary, and how she used to sing that song to him as a kid)

11. If a theme song played whenever Veronica entered the room, what would it be?

I thought I had the perfect song for this and then I realized that song would actually be more perfect for Cheryl. For VERONICA, I would have to say either “Barracuda” by Heart or “The Wicked Ones” by Dorothy. I love me that classic rock feel and I feel like Veronica needs something with some edge. (tbh I’d pick something with some rock feel for all the girls)

Thanks for the tag! Gonna tag @raptorlily, @burberrycanary, @lusterrdust, @createandconstruct, @smoochmejuggie, @jugandbettsdetectiveagency, @lizzy92rc, @somebooksmakeusfree, @coledemort, @writing-as-tracey

My 11 Questions for you are 

1. If you could change one thing (and ONLY ONE THING) about season 2, what would it be? 

2. If you could steal one thing from a character’s closet what would it be? (ex. Veronica’s pearls, Jug’s beanie, Cheryl’s spider brooch, any of Betty’s sweaters, Archie’s... letterman jacket?)

3.  Would you rather take a ride on Jughead’s motorcycle or have Archie serenade you with a song he wrote himself?

4. Who’s your favorite secondary/minor character? (Trick question. The only correct answer is Pop) ;D

5. Favorite song they’ve used on Riverdale so far?

6. What would you have named Polly’s twins? (Juniper and DAGWOOD? Really Polly?)

7. Favorite line from the whole show?

8. What song do Betty and Jughead choose for their first dance at their wedding?

9. What are Betty and Jughead’s patronus’s?

10. What is Jughead’s guilty pleasure movie? What is Betty’s?

11. FMK: Reggie, Sweet Pea, Hiram Lodge.