#phoebe asks

[emmaziadarcy]

When you draw the Three of Cups, you will see three women lifting their cups up in the air in a celebration of some sort. Good times are in the air, for the three ladies have wreaths made of flowers in their hair. Wreaths are often associated with success and victory, so their happiness is well deserved.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

[slyandthefamilybook]

Imagine you have a friend over for dinner and you make them steak. It's a traditional family recipe, and you know it turned out great. You're really proud of this good steak you made. After the meal you ask your friend what they thought of your steak and they say: "I loved it! I hate food poisoning, though."

"... Okay, what did you mean by that?"

"Nothing! The steak was great! I just hate getting food poisoning!"

"... Is the steak going to give you food poisoning?"

"Oh, not this one. This one was great. But some steaks give you food poisoning."

"Okay, but not this one, right?"

"No, not this one."

"... Then why did you bring up food poisoning?"

"I just didn't want you to think that because I liked your steak that I also like food poisoning."

"Why would I think that?"

"Because some steaks give you food poisoning."

"But not this one."

"No, not this one."

This is how goyim talk about Jews

[b0ydyke]

jesus at the gay bar by jay hulme // julien baker via @\coreysabs on ig // jesus christ by brand new // solar power by lorde // boygenius via @\isabellasofia on ig // a knock on the door by james tate

[mitskijamie]

Rip Ted Lasso cheesy sitcom filler episodes. Roy’s 40th birthday episode where he grapples with mortality while everyone runs around trying to throw him a surprise party…Ted and Beard double date episode…flashback episode with the original actors but different haircuts…bottle episode in the locker room!!

YES LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY ....

- X rated Will Kitman antics episode. Drugs. Sex. Booze. Gambling. And he shows up at work the next day looking cute as a button :)

- Team Bonding Trip to a countryside retreat of some kind goes horribly wrong. The boys end up sleeping four to a bed Charlie and the Chocolate Factory grandparents style, it pours rain the entire time, the power goes out, etc. Of course at the end they wind up having a great time and come out stronger as a team, but it's touch and go for a while because Jamie can't blowdry his hair

- Phoebe and Keeley girls' day out episode!!! Roy doesn't come up once, they talk about vampires all day in various scenic locations around London

- Anthology episode where the bus breaks down in a storm and Ted suggests they tell spooky stories while they wait for the tow truck. I know everyone hates anthology episodes but I think they're fun

(Bumbercatch's story is borderline incomprehensible and really more of a conspiracy theory about the Cars franchise than a story. Nate's story is about a guy whose dad is disappointed in the choices he's made for himself. Dani's story is about a ghost dog haunting the person who killed him by sneaking up and biting his nuts while he has his eyes closed in the shower, and it becomes increasingly clear that this is a very real fear he has about Earl. Roy's story of course is so violent and graphic that everyone is genuinely terrified, and Ted has to step in with a campy cowboy ghost story that culminates in a tense silence broken by Beard yelling out and jumpscaring everyone)

- 00s party boy Roy flashback ep (Brett Goldstein in a wig as you said. Obviously)!!!!!!! Near the end he scores some momentous goal and we see Georgie and baby Jamie in a Kent kit celebrating in front of the TV lol

[datura-tea]

hello all!! i'm opening sketch commissions :)

one sketch of one character: 25 USD! additional characters are 15 USD per character

sketch page of one character (minimum of three poses): 50 USD! additional poses are 15 USD per pose

payment is upfront and through paypal or ko-fi. original characters very much welcome :) commission details are on this linked page

please send me a message if you have any questions or are interested! thank you! some sketch samples are under the cut:

thank you for your time!!

[deep-fried-egg]

Don't be a brat.

This includes: brat taming, g!p vada, Dom!vada, top! Vada, sub! R, bottom! R, fem! R, spanking, Vada cumming inside

SMUT BELOW THE CUT, MINORS DNI

"Yeah y/n. Juice wrld is 100x better than sublime." Vada said as she mindlessly scrolled through Instagram . She was sitting on the couch, feet up and legs stretched out.

"Have you even heard sublime?" Y/n asked Vada who only shrugged. "It sounds like someone just wants to be a pain in the ass. Who listens to juice wrld anyway?"

"The people that have a brain, that's who." Vada retorted back, then continued scrolling through her feed. "What do you know about people that have brains." Y/n mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Vada said with narrowed eyes. "Nothing, don't worry about it." Y/n answered, knowing that it would only annoy Vada further.

"That didn't sound like nothing." Vada set her phone down "If you wanna be a fucking brat I might have to fuck the attitude out of you."

"You won't," Y/n replied flatly, but didn't look up from her lap.

"Oh yeah?" Vada got off the couch and stood directly over Y/n. "Is that a dare or what?" Before Y/n could respond, Vada leaned over and gave Y/n a kiss. Y/n tensed, ready for the other girl to push her down, but instead she felt arms wrap around her waist and pull them closer. Y/n felt Vada's hand move from her hip to her ass, squeezing and massaging the area while their lips remained locked together.

"Vads... Just get to it already." Y/n said between kisses when Vada started to nip at Y/n's lower lip, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from her girlfriend."I don't like your tone, Y/n." Vada whispered in Y/n's ear before pressing another kiss against her neck. Y/n shuddered when Vada started sucking hard on her pulse point

The brunette girl moved her hands from Y/n's ass to her thighs where she pulled y/n into a tighter embrace. When Y/n let out a small gasp of air Vada took the opportunity to slide her tongue into Y/n's mouth. Y/n moaned at the sensation, allowing Vada to deepen the kiss.

"lay down on my lap brat." Vada commanded as she sat down next to me. Of course, I obliged. Immediately I did as told

Vada squeezed my ass before quickly pulling how my pants and panties so my bare ass is facing her.

"I'll only give you ten for today, but if you pull this shit ever again I'll double it." Vada threatened before giving you a harsh smack then a gentle rub.

"One." I can already feel myself getting wet...

"Two." somehow this slap was even harder than the first one, but it came with a quiet "sorry"

"Three..." This was the softest spank she's given me so far, I'm surprised she hasn't asked me if I'm still okay with this-

"Is this still okay?" Nevermind. I give Vada a quick nod before flinching from another smack.

"Four."

"Five? Yeah five." I softly smile at the fact that she forgot the number she's at.

"Six." At this point my arousal is spreading to my thighs.

"Seven, can I continue?" She asks again.

"Yes, vada it's fine now stop aski-" I get cut off by a hard smack.

"Eight." She said louder than the other numbers.

"Nine."

"Nine and a half..."

"And ten."

At this point I am dripping onto her shorts, it's fucking embarrassing that pain turns me on this much. To be honest it's not only the pain it's the fact that I can feel her hard cock pressing into me as well.

"fuck I bet you're so wet for me that I don't need to use lube..." Vada inches her hand closer and closer to my center.

"I'm not wet at all." I managed to get out right when she was about to touch my heat.

"let's see if you're lying or not even though I already know you are." Vada ran her fingers through my center and came up with an embarrassing amount of slick.

"I knew it."

"come back up on the couch. Face down, ass up." This time I did get on the couch but I didn't get into the position she wanted me in. Instead I just laid down on my back.

"Did you hear what I asked? I said face down ass up." Vada said but I didn't budge.

"Do you just want to be punished?" I still did not move.

"Move."

I realize that she wont fuck me unless I'm in that position so I gave up trying and finally moved.

"you know I'm gonna have to punish you again for that?" Vada said while rubbing the tip of her cock against my clit... I didn't even realize she took her shorts off.

"Vada..." I tried to say an entire sentence but apparently I'm not allowed to talk anymore.

"Nope. Be quiet slut." I feel vada completely pull away which causes me to whine into the cushion Vada is pressing my face into.

"Oh do you want me inside?" I nodded into the cushion but that wasn't good enough.

"Actually, you can talk... So use your words."

"Yes... please I want you so fucking bad Vada." I reached behind me trying to find her cock but she slapped my hand away and she grabbed it herself.

"No touching, got it?" With that, Vada slid her dick inside me causing me to groan loudly. I couldn't help but squirm and let out a loud moan.

"Fuck you're tight." Her fingers dug into my hips as she thrust faster and deeper into me.

"Vada...." I said again and this time she stopped moving and looked up at me. She gave me a devilish smile. "Say my name again." I swallowed thickly and looked into her eyes. "Vada...please..." This time, it sounded more like a whimper. The brunette smirked and kept fucking me.

"Where did all your brattiness go? You were arguing with me a couple of minutes ago." Vada teased before giving me one particularly rough thrust, this time causing me to moan. I clenched my teeth shut and bit my bottom lip to stifle any other noises I could make. "I like your feisty side babe, I hope you keep being a little fucking brat long enough for us to work through your bitchiness." Vada chuckled darkly as she slowly moved her hips forward causing me to tighten around her dick. She stopped and waited for a few seconds then went back to thrusting inside of me. I moaned as she began to pick up speed, thrusting harder each time. I was panting heavily, sweat forming on my forehead.

"Are you going to behave now?" Vada said, a smug smirk adorning her features.

"Uh huh." I said quietly, breathing heavily. "Good girl." she purred. As Vada continued to pump her dick into me until I neared my release... but instead of letting me cum Vada immediately pulled out.

"What the fuck?" I hissed angrily, just wanting her to make me cum as soon as possible.

"Don't complain brat. You know why I'm not letting you cum yet" Vada replied nonchalantly.

"Why?"

"Because you need to learn some manners."

"I didn't even do anything this time!" I snapped, annoyed.

"Stop talking. You're lucky I'm too horny to stop fucking you right now..." Vada said as she slammed her body back into mine before picking up her pace once again, this time leaving no space between us. My whole body shook as my nails dug harshly into the couch cushions.

"Please..." I whined in desperation as Vada increased the speed of her stroke. "Please." My voice was becoming hoarse and the pressure building up inside me became unbearable.

"Apologize for being such a fucking brat earlier."

"Sorry... for being a brat." I mumbled as tears gathered in my eyes from how uncomfortable being kept on the edge of an orgasm is. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I continued to apologize over and over again as she sped up even more, causing me to cum all over her cock. Vada was about to cum as well and I could feel her tense up, I knew it was coming...

A low growl came out of Vada's throat as she pounded into me roughly and cumming deep inside of me. Vada slowly pulled out and moved away from me so I could finally lie on my back. My eyes met hers as we both breathed heavily, I ran my hand down her chest gently caressing it while she placed lazy kisses down my neck.

"You know I don't actually think you're a brat or a whore right?" Vada questioned, bringing our foreheads together.

"I know." I sighed contently as she continued to place soft butterfly kisses across my face.

" I wouldn't have gotten my way if you weren't so obedient... you're the perfect little sub, don't ever forget that." Vada whispered in my ear before kissing me deeply.

[dailytraingirl]

and while you’re bleeding on your back in the glass

i’ll be glad that i made it out

and sorry that it all went down

like it did.

[jamietwat]

Jamie and Roy spending ridiculous amounts of time together and Phoebe knowing about it definitely means that Jamie’s around Phoebe a lot more in the off-season when she’s off school and Roy’s off work but still being Jamie’s personal trainer for free (and she definitely likes bossing Jamie around just as much as Roy does and finds the ridiculous shit Roy makes him do hilarious)

And you know that thing where kids love to randomly go watch this, I can do a somersault or want to see me do a cartwheel? and then you just have to awkwardly stand there and be like wow whether they actually can do them or not (and sometimes several times in a row have to try to think of something new to say the fifth time they do the exact same thing and then look to you for a reaction)

I’m just saying at some point they’re in some park and Phoebe definitely pulls a look how good I’m getting at cart wheels, Uncle Roy! around Jamie at some point and while Roy just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ and gives compliments that gradually get more and more deadpan and debates turning it into saying how much more impressive that is than anything Jamie’s done all morning but he doesn’t because he’s 90% sure that would just lead to Jamie getting all indignant and competitive and proving he can cartwheel too as if Roy isn’t already annoyingly aware of that from when he was dying trying to keep up with Jamie in Amsterdam while he was cartwheeling and practically skipping

But obviously Roy not saying anything doesn’t matter anyway and Jamie turns it into being like watch this to Phoebe and cartwheeling too and turning to Roy after like well go on, tell me how good I am at that too

Roy deadpans somehow it’s far less impressive watching a grown man cartwheel for attention. It’s just sad, really

But Jamie isn’t offended at all and just shoots Roy an obnoxious smirk and insists you’re just saying that because you know you couldn’t do one. Even trying would probably end with you needing a hip replacement or something

But before Roy can even properly argue or say something bitchy back, Jamie’s turning back to Phoebe with a how about this then? But even though it’s her he asks, it’s Roy he looks to the moment he finishes running a few steps and doing a one-handed cartwheel

And Jamie’s like well now are you impressed??? And god, Roy resents that he is and he could make a dig about how useless of a skill it was as an adult and how that wouldn’t accomplish anything on the pitch and he’d just look like one of the kids that picks flowers on the pitch instead of playing or even paying attention to where the ball is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says yeah okay

And Jamie beams but he doesn’t have time to properly gloat and give Roy shit because Phoebe’s already bossing him around telling him that he has to teach her how to do that too

[ymdslf]

when phoebe bridgers said i want to believe, instead i look at the sky and i feel nothing you know i hate to be alone i want to be wrong and when lucy dacus said you don't owe him shit even if he said you did and when julien baker said maybe it's all gonna turn out alright and i know that it's not but i have to believe that it is

[scratchlock]

came for the sports stayed for the doomed yaoi

[tuliptired]

hello! I don’t want to bother you but could you possibly right about old man Egon Spengler x fem reader?

Empty Pocket Waltz

Pairing: Old man!Egon Spengler/Fem!Reader

Not a bother at all! Firm believer that some pussy would've saved him

Better formatting on Ao3!!

You’ve been living in Summerville, Oklahoma for at least the last handful of decades. It was a cold and windy night when you loaded Callie into the backseat, before you and Egon left your lives in New York to save the world, supposedly. After starting from scratch in a gilded age farmhouse, sending a child off to college, meeting her children- it felt like more of a family dinner. Nevertheless, you were happy. And, despite the threat of constant doomsday for years on end, Egon seemed at a weird sort of peace. Every morning you wake up, you wonder what your future would’ve been like, if your daughter didn’t cry out in the middle of that argument. If he had never gone to hold her, and realize that this was a matter of your little family, as well as the planet.

That was then, in the confines of your miniscule apartment, paint peeling off the walls and water endlessly dripping out your taps. You took a long breath in, grateful for the abundance of fragrant house flora you had managed to keep alive. It was just you and the rolling farmland this morning, a silent little symphony as the sun beat down on your face. Not even the pan below you dared to make any noise.

Your moment alone was cut short by the gentle running of water, and later the creak of the floorboards that made up the steps. Egon had become a better sleeper in time. He used to insist on going in late, getting up early, taking care of Callie before you’d managed to open your eyes. But his old habits came crashing down after a while of falling asleep to gentle wind chimes, chirping crickets, pittering rain. And you found it adorable- his messy hair and soft pajamas seeing you off to your job in town every morning.

You felt a warm body at your side as you finished making breakfast. “Did you sleep well?” you asked, the question as familiar as he was. Egon didn’t answer, leaning his head on your shoulder while you carefully poured him coffee, one cream and four artificial sugars. Time may have altered his disposition, but never his tastes.

“Well,” you started, plating pancakes after he trudged over to the table, “I hope you eat as well as you sleep. We have a big day today.” you spoke excitedly.

Egon woke up a bit after a sip from his old and worn out mug. He puzzled over your proclamation, brow furrowed a bit. “We do?” he wondered, growing nervous in wake of your bright smile.

“Pruning day!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his neck from the back as he let out a soft groan. “And you’re gonna help out, because you promised your poor old wife with bad knees that you’d get it done. And because you love her.”

“Yes. And because I love her,” he said dryly.

You heard him sigh as you loosened your embrace around his shoulders. “The flowers aggravate my allergies and dirt gets stained into my clothes,” He paused. “Get me the shears from the mudroom, please?” A happy noise escaped you then before you buried your head into his hair. “Thank you, Egon.” Geez, did he always have this much hair? You could feel the white locks tickling your own scalp. “Ouf. Next item on the to-do list is a haircut.”

 Egon had been out there for some time when you emerged with a glass of lemonade. Watching your husband do physical labor under the sun was a fairly indulgent source of entertainment- but there’s just something about a man tending to a garden on his hands and knees that made your day a bit brighter.

“Since you’re working so hard,” you offered him the cup, a painted little thing that Callie had made in school, while you sip from your glassware. 

He didn’t seem to mind, shamelessly taking a drink. “Thank you.” He sat back on his haunches then, observing your mini yield. “You’ve got a lot this summer.”

“I know,” you marveled, taking a quick headcount of all your sprouts, shoots, and stalks. “It’s a pensioner’s dream.” 

If your grandson were here, and not up north- he’d undoubtedly be making fun of you both for your stereotypically geriatric source of entertainment. It had taken both you and Egon, the genius, ridiculously long to notice the acres upon acres of farmland at your disposal. Of course, this was after a sizable amount of stressing over what it took to adequately feed a growing child. So, you grew what you could for dinner, garden plot now confined to the side of your house as caring for it became hard.

You took refuge on a worn chair in the shade, legs crossed while your husband bent back down to work. You couldn’t help the pleased sound you made to yourself at the sight of him, pants hitching up to the midsection of his thighs and a bit closer to his skin than other bottoms you’d  seen him don outside. He’d gotten a little fuller over time, but you’d be a liar if you dared to say you minded. 

“Those shorts were a good decision, then?” you mused, low eyes still on his lower half. You nearly missed the look of offense he had as he looked over his shoulder. “Glad you’re bringing them back.”

“I have nothing else. We should put laundry on the list.” Egon stated. 

You rested the glass on your own thigh, condensation providing a little relief from the warmth permeating your spot in the shadows. “You have at least two pairs of sweatpants left. I checked,” you scoffed. You’d known him for so many years that you had no problem decoding his unvarnished nature, even if it was slightly annoyed. You knew he really wasn’t too upset at your ogling, or letting the chore slip your mind. And- he did wordlessly arch a bit further into the bush, a satisfied smile growing on your face.

After all his drudgery was done, you promised you’d find a way to repay him after a second shower. His hulking figure tracking soil around your hallways was enough for you to usher him into the bathroom and stay at the door until you heard the water run. 

He wasn’t very long, and you met back in your now-steamed-washroom to tackle his little salon treatment. “How’d this happen?” you murmured rhetorically, examining Egon from all angles while he dwarfed a stool. He always had refused to use the toilet for anything but its intended purpose, chastising you and your daughter whenever you dared to. In the rare times Callie looked to test his patience- Terrible Twos, she knew that a lesser loved doll or picture book could stand a swim in the porcelain, if it meant getting back at Daddy.

“I thought you liked my hair long?” Egon asked, covered by the fluffy towel you dried his damp hair with.

You brushed it back into its usual place. After a long time of being styled- probably since his final graduation, his hair seemed to compromise, curls finally growing in the way he had manipulated them to. “I do, but that was then,” you worked. “College-Egon was a different guy.”

He sulked a bit. “Elon’s wife lets him wear his hair long.” His uncharacteristic petulance was endearing to you, as you grabbed a pair of hairdressing scissors. These had saved Callie on many different occasions, most notably when you had come home to find her and her father locked inside the destroyed bathroom, trying every remedy in every cupboard and cabinet to remove something viscous and sticky that ended up on her from Egon’s lab. 

“Elon’s wife let him keep a family of foxes. She only put them out when they scuffed her china cabinet.” you laughed lightly, not yet removing anything from his head.

“I won’t take away too much. Just enough to not scratch me.”

He conceded. “You know best.”

“I know.”

You carefully clipped just shy of half an inch from the white that took over what once was brown. You had to admire its refusal to thin out, thick but light pieces littering the tile beneath you. Before he knew you, an old and apparently unkind barber down the street cut his hair. When the price of that looked too high for his parents, his father took up the job, and he wasn’t much of a step up. Once Egon was out on his own, people seldom touched his head, not even after his degrees were finished and he gave it a drastic cut. It always felt nice, being on the giving end of taking care of such a distinctive part of him. One he really never let anyone influence or alter, when given the choice.

A gentle snoring rumbling from him and the slight slump of his head drew you out of your focus when you took a step back to review your work. “You really are old,” you grinned, rousing him awake. You caught your reflections in the mirror. “Good?”

Egon gave you a nod of approval, sitting patiently as you brushed some of the stray white off his shoulders. “Good.”

You examined him once more, still not fully satisfied. Something was off. He still looked great- he always looked great. But you were skipping a step. Egon was nothing if not tolerant, waiting for you to finish your evaluation.

“I know,” you snapped. You didn’t give him much of a further explanation, dipping into the drawers of the sinkside cabinet and emerging with a razor. “Your beard.”

The very tall man nearly scooched off the stool. “I thought you liked it? You’ve never said anything before.”

You glanced down at the shaver in your hand. Shiny and electric- one of the first things you had ordered online, when that was a new thing. “Okay, maybe not these.” you placed them on the counter. “Come on, grandpa. Just a trim.”

You were lucky Egon trusted your judgment. So, you took the scissors and carved him back out, catching short strands with the equally as white towel.

“There you are,” you twinkled, proud of your cosmetology skills. You placed a loving kiss on his cheek, his own smile pulling at the muscle. In your little moment, he convinced you to let him paint your nails in thanks. Your husband. Egon was always handsome, before and after your pampering. But you reveled in the intimacy of routine maintenance with the one you loved.

“Darn it,” you closed the washer-dryer. Halfway through its cycle and it decided to start fussing again. “Egon?” you called, hoping he’d mess around with it again and finish drying your wet clothes.

And mess around he did. He turned knobs, moved pipes, plugged and unplugged things with increasing frustration. This didn’t show much but his stubbornness, but he really was a smart man. With a PhD. But this was one of his few intellectual weaknesses- “smart” appliances. It was one of the more newer things in the old house, an upgrade the handyman (Egon insisted he could fix the old one alone, nearly electrocuting himself before you put your foot down about it) who came from really far out of town to help you out had suggested. But, there was always something going on with it, whether that was your fault or otherwise. There was always a new fix, but not now.

Egon must’ve sensed your worry over the clothes still inside. “We can put these on the line to dry,” he reassured you, using some of his strength to push it forward and inspect whatever went on at its back.

“It’s gonna rain,” you troubled, peering outside at the graying sky. He was in his own, mechanical world, not hearing you as he assessed the faulty thing. 

“Egon?” You wrapped your arms around his middle. 

You could tell his ponderings didn’t stop at your touch. “Yes?”

“I know you can fix the car. And your proton pack. And my hair dryer.” He let out a noise of acknowledgment, which might have had a hint of pride.

“But maybe,” you cringed, “we should just cut our losses and take all this to the laundromat?”

He shot down your idea- because of course that was the wildest suggestion ever presented to him. “Why go all the way out there over something I can fix in an evening?” Egon reasoned.

“You know good and well it’ll take longer than an evening.” You had already started to sort soaked clothes into linen bags. “I’ll be lucky if I catch you leaving this room before the end of the week.”

“Then, by the end of the week you’ll have a working laundry room again.”

You placed one of your sodden delicates in his hands. “Everything’ll mold if we can’t get it to dry. And I won’t let you test any of it. We’re going.”

Egon grumbled, but followed suit, carrying the large bag of laundry to the car for you while you grabbed your mini bag of quarters. It was his silent compliance as he waited for you to buckle up that made you stroke his arm apologetically.

“I appreciate that you’re always trying to help. Remember what you did to Callie’s Furby?”

He nodded fondly. “The first to be able to talk back. She was terrified.”

“Well, she would fish it out the closet when she was mad. I never had to buy her a diary ever again.” you shrugged.

“Do you still like the jets I put in the bathtub?” he turned to you.

“Of course! You just never notice I have them on because you’re in there with me.”

The drive into town always took some time, bumpy dirt roads turning into proper asphalt after a while. Summerville was still a small town, so the laundromat was never as bustling as it could be. But your assumptions were proven wrong, as a dozen or so cars lined the curb. Either everyone’s washer or dryer started acting up, or the water company had a mass shut off.

Egon moved rigidly through the throng of people in the little space. These were the people, and some of their now-grown-children, who stared at him like he was an alien after moving his tiny family to a run down house all the way from Manhattan. You could somewhat understand their intrigue- the most exciting thing to happen around this place seemed to be community matters. But some of their rumors were outright laughable: you were on the run from the police (ironic if you considered how gossipy the town was), Callie was a monster he made in his lab (she played into that one when you went shopping), you were Soviet spies sent for espionage (fairly dangerous, considering the country was coming down from the Cold War and Egon was very visibly the child of two European immigrants). 

But, as years passed and no nukes were dropped and no infectious diseases spread from your daughter in school, Summerville learned you were here to stay. And they started to enjoy your presence, the few times you’d gone into town to run errands and with everything you did at work. You’d even gotten close to a family or two, evident in how a teenage girl sitting on one of the stand alone machines smiled at you.

“Hi, Mr and Mrs. Spengler,” Lucky waved. Her and Trevor had become close friends, at least the few summers he and his sister had spent while visiting. You had thought it wouldn’t stick- on account of the distance and the time it’s been since their last trip down here, but they managed to stay in contact. Very close contact, you’d been told.

“Hi, Lucky,” you returned, “how’s your mom?”

“She’s okay. She sent me here- ‘cause our washer won’t start.” 

“We’re in the same boat, then. Tell her: once ours works again, I’ll send Egon to check yours out, alright?”

Her grin grew, possibly at the sight of your husband's expression. He was used to you volunteering his skills in repair, though. It proved useful, in a town without any real mechanical service. Here, one just prayed they would never break down or lose power. But it was one of the ways you managed to clean up your reputation in time- Egon serving as an electrician, tow truck, or handyman whenever he wasn’t holed up in his makeshift lab. “Will do,” she nodded.

With that, her dad called her, and she was off. Not before complimenting your nails, though. You made quick work of loading your wet clothes, going through the motions. Halfway through, Egon stopped to pull something out of one of his wrinkled pockets.

It was one of your earrings, delicate and near tiny. “You fell asleep with it on.” he handed it to you.

Eventually, your laundry was done. And you didn’t even run through all your quarters. This called for a Coke from the vending machine- only a can, you both needed to watch your sugar.  The drive back was noticeably more jovial, you had clean and dry laundry, Egon had a new project to consume his time. He seemed to have multiple things on his mind, as he opened the passenger door for you.

“They’re calling today,” he said, almost anxiously. Callie had been calling you periodically ever since she went off to Ohio, of all places, for college. She had stopped after you came back from a visit once she had Trevor, and it wasn’t until after his father left that 1. You learned she had a whole other child not long before their split, and 2. He was an awful husband. After that, you made her promise to always check in with you, especially in the long stretches of time when driving up to Chicago just wasn’t an option. Egon’s been on top of her calls ever since, silently eager to see his daughter and his growing grandchildren. 

At some point, you found him in the living room, mulling around with the iPad you were given some time in the early 2010’s in order to actually see the people getting in contact with you. “You got it?” you asked, squeezing into your typical spot next to him.

He nodded, and soon your daughter was on the little screen. “Hey Mom, hey Dad.”

“Hi, Cal!” Egon had only waved, always a tad shy over the phone for the first few minutes. “How’s everything? How’s work?”

She seemed preoccupied with something offscreen. “Raining hard, here. Ceiling started to leak.”

You frowned. It was never fun to hear that your loved ones were struggling, even if they were small grievances like these. “Does your landlord know? It’ll only get worse as it gets warmer.”

“He won’t answer my calls,” she put her hands up, as if she was ridding herself of the problem, “we have buckets, it’s fine.”

“You know what we’re gonna tell you.”

“Do I?”

“Spend the summer here,” you urged, hearing her groan slightly over the phone. “It can’t hurt.”

“I can’t ask that of you guys. Again.” 

You gestured around the large, under-occupied house. “You lived here. You know how much space we have.”

Callie was silent, deep in thought as you continued. “We miss you. The other day I started wondering if Phoebe still needed Pampers.”

She sat back wherever she was sitting. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“It feels like it! When you’re as old as we are, a day feels like a year.”

“Today has been quite a year,” Egon affirms at your side.

You sat forward on the little couch. “Even Dad agrees. He’s too shy to say, but he always wants to ask you for pictures. But he’s scared you’ll find it annoying.” Egon didn’t seem to be embarrassed, wanting to see the rest of his family as much as you did.

Callie spoke up then, eyebrows high. “I’ll send you pictures, Dad. Mom, I’ll…I’ll think about it, ok?” You’d take that, for now. Soon, Trevor appeared, waving at you both. 

You left Egon to have his time with the teenager. From the other room, you got snippets about a car show, some new friends he’d been making, a cut he got from trying to shave his legs- which was a little interesting. You can remember the first time he had held Trevor. The newborn was just happy to be alive, so awake for only being a few hours old. He took interest in everything Egon had to say, eyeing the shiny buttons of his shirt, the reflective frames of his glasses. In the private of the hospital room Callie was fast asleep in, he revealed to you that he was excited to watch a little boy in his family grow up the opposite in which he did: being allowed to play, get dirty, make mistakes.

It wasn’t until Trevor wondered aloud where you were that you peeked your head around the corner. After switching out with Egon, you settled into his warm spot on the sofa, tea in hand.

“Hi, grandma!” 

“Hi, Trevor. I see the leak was in your room.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. We have buckets.”

You smiled at that, chatting about more things- the show you were watching together, a recipe he was demanding you try, drama in school, before you remembered something. “We saw Lucky today. When was the last time you talked?” you gently probed.

Trevor brightened, if not reddened. “Last night. School ends later for us here so,” he swallowed. “But we’ve been able to talk every night.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Everynight’s an improvement.”

He waved you off. “It’s not that big of a deal.” His expression grew far away. “Is it that big of a deal?”

“She’s been asking when you’ll be back. Maybe you won’t miss her birthday this year.”

Trevor sat up straighter, so fast he knocked his knees against the underside of his desk. He didn’t seem to notice, while you winced on the other end of the phone. You asked if he was alright, but he was too deep in his head to notice. “Oh man, really? I got her a gift. Or a couple of gifts. I was gonna send it in the mail.”

You smiled knowingly. “More reasons to come here. Actions speak louder than words.” Trevor looked doubtful, brow creased a bit.

“What if she doesn’t like it? Like: ‘ohhh thank you Trevor, but that’s super weird. I’m getting a car but I can put the stuffed bear in the backseat’.” He must’ve gotten his anxiety from Egon- he sounded exactly like him in the days leading up to you being asked out. Or so Ray tells you.

“No chance. Every girl would like a gift from her boyfriend.” you shook your head.

Trevor looked at least a bit hopeful. “But, we’re not dating-”

“Mom said to let me on.”

You let Egon have a minute with Phoebe. They always had a special connection- there was no need for anyone to say anything because it was so clear. Trevor gave them their space, and you did too, and it was all okay because he’d been your little guy since birth, literally attached to your leg whenever he had the chance to hang out with you. And Phoebe holed up with her grandfather in his makeshift lab, learning and talking about anything they each had to offer. They really were cut from the same cloth, it was only natural. You can remember her delivery, too. The entire day was hard- feverish three year old, busy hospital, unhelpful and soon to be ex husband. Callie had to pretty much bargain for medical attention in the sterile room as her contractions got worse, let alone to get an epidural. Such an angry start in the world. But when she came, she was so peaceful, not even crying when she was brought out into the cold air. Precious is what you regarded it as, weird was the word buzzed around between NICU nurses. 

For the second time, in the dark of a hospital room while Trevor slept in his shirt, Egon barely whispered that, “she’s already different.” You knew exactly what he meant- and it was nowhere near bad. She was like him.

Phoebe’s room was messy as ever, but it was an organized mess. “Hi, grandma,” she greeted.

“Hi, Phebes,” you saw something round and white in her hands, “what’s that?”

She lifted it to the camera, fairly nonchalantly. “Our ac. He switched it off so I’m trying to jailbreak it.” Ah.

“When can we come back?” she added, clearly having thought about visiting a lot more than usual.

“Any time. You just have to convince your mom. Chicago’s getting boring?” 

Her eyebrows twitched once, the way Egon always does. “In the summer. And, if something happens to our house while we’re gone, the landlord’s responsible. Not us.” she explained.

That’s your granddaughter. “Smart girl.” You paused, noticing something different about her but not being able to place it. “Did you…get new frames?”

Phoebe paused in turn, pushing them up. “Are they bad?” she asked, brows knitted slightly. “I didn’t want to change them, but Mom made me.”

You smiled, “They look great. But, uh, what’s the difference?”

“These hinges are silver. The old hinges were nickel.”

That was definitely your granddaughter. Eccentric, in her own, special way.

Soon, Callie needed her phone back. As you all said your goodbyes, something popped into your mind before you reminded Phoebe that you saw Podcast and he wants her to call him back so they can play their game.

Phoebe scowled over her brother’s shoulder. “I’m banned. Tell him we have to find something else.”

Every time your family called, Egon happened to remember that the iPad had a game or two on it, and he was occupied until it was time to chorale him into bed. You waited patiently as he put it to charge, ready to be forgotten about for a while, and nuzzled into his chest when he returned to you. His sleeping clothes were always worn, but they always filled you with the familiar scent of him which you were much too happy never washed out. 

“Did you have fun?” you asked into the fabric of his shirt. Sure, it was a long and hard battle to condition him out of a gown and sleeping cap in the early days of your relationship, but you’d take what he give you.

He hummed in response. “Level 2801 on Candy Crush today.”

“One higher than Winston.” you gazed in the darkness at a familiar spot by the door, cracked ajar. Callie would wait for you both, as soon as she could toddle out of her bed and needed someone with her when she used the bathroom, or to console her after a bad dream. As she got older, it’s where she brought you both coffee on special mornings, and bounced on her heels waiting for approval to take the car. Callie’s spot. Perfectly between both of your pillows, if you drew a straight line, run a little ragged by bare feet, sneakers, and slippers. “What else?”

“Peter took something from my farm, so I put him and his dogs underground.”

You shut your eyes, though still enjoying your sleepy conversation. “That’s not very good conflict resolution.” He was quiet, and you assumed he had dozed off, you in his arms, until there was a tugging at your earlobe.

“What?”

“Earrings.”

“Thank you, Egon.” Your old man. This was a much smaller life than Times Square, Central Park, Ghostbusters. But it was your small life, with your larger-than-life husband, and you really wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ckerouac]

I want to know how Phoebe went about getting Jamie to come to Roy’s party. Did she craft a very glitter invitation? Did she and her mom show up at the club at a time when they knew Uncle Roy wasn’t there and ask a very underpaid member of the office staff to let them see Jamie Tartt? Did that staff member call Leslie and Leslie was all to eager to do this favor for Roy’s niece? (Is Phoebe Diamond Dog-adjacent? Diamond Puppy?)

So did Jamie get called up to Leslie’s office only to find Phoebe grinning madly and handing him the glitter invitation and listening as she explained the importance of Uncle’s Day and how it was a gifts required type of holiday and since he’s Uncle Roy’s best friend he has to come?

Did Jamie accept the invitation immediately and secretly preen a bit that Roy talks about him a lot? And since when did he start caring that Roy likes him enough to talk about him? Since when are he and Roy FRIENDS?

But if Phoebe says so it must be true. The glitter invitation is proof.

He orders the jersey ten minutes after Phoebe leaves, giggling about Roy’s reaction as he does. Because they’re friends.

[ask-phoebespengler]

Happy Pride, some people in the lab have changed their patches out for the month - so I've followed suit.

Keep an eye open for me out in the field.

[chronicallyclem]

How about FP and Marceline vibing? I bet they'd be great friends :)

I feel like they absolutely could have been good friends :) this was fun! I love doing these

[2hoothoots]

So I was going through your blog (again) and found some of your stuff mentions fsau Raz having ADHD, as somebody with adhd I’m intrigued, may I have some of those headcanons (canons??) related to that? Also, I would give “a penny for your thoughts” but I’m out of pennies, so here’s various images of a drawing of ur blorbo I put next to my animals, note that a rock had to be added in one picture to keep him from flying away (BONUS: his now permanent place with the wifi guardian frog)

NOTHING brings me more joy than seeing physical drawings of these guys, like, out and about. in situations. thank you for this gift, and ALSO for the great ask because it's a perfect chance to ramble

so first of all, canon Raz having ADHD is very real to me. he's constantly fidgeting and moving around, getting distracted by sidequests and scavenger hunt objectives, always talking to himself out loud, gotta write everything down so he remembers it because there's so much to DO!, running away from home because his dad yelled at him one time and now Raz assumes he must hate him forever... i could go on, but i think there's a lot of room for interpretation there!

in my headcanon, he never got diagnosed as a kid. maybe there were some notes about it in his reports each year, sure - but a little hyperactivity and distractability never seemed to slow him down. he excelled in lessons and on missions, and when he was with his family their performances gave him something to focus that energy into. it was only really when he turned 18 and graduated to a full agent that the cracks started to show.

because there's a big difference between the responsibilities you have as a minor, and the responsibilities you have as an 18-year-old living away from home! one who's expected to cook and clean for themselves, and take care of adult life stuff, and also work the 9-to-5 office job he's just graduated into that involves sitting in front of a computer and write reports all day.

short-term, he found he could get himself to power through a deadline with energy drinks and psi-pops (a lot of psi-pops...)

long-term, something had to give. he was working himself to exhaustion, constantly stressed, swinging between days spent staring at his computer screen doing nothing and all-nighters desperately trying to finish his paperwork before the deadline. it just didn't make any sense to him. he'd finally started his job as a Psychonaut, he was living independently like he'd always dreamed, he'd gotten top surgery after planning it for so long. he should have everything he ever wanted. why wasn't he happy?

following a deep post-surgical depression, about a month before his 19th birthday Raz was living out of his car, couch-surfing or sleeping in his office. he got kicked out of his apartment after falling behind on bills and rent. it wasn't that he didn't have the money, it was all just too much for him to stay on top of.

he'd probably have stayed in that misery hole for a lot longer if Frazie hadn't marched into his life and demanded he let her help him move into a new place, or she was telling mom that he was homeless. together, they sorted through all of his possessions from the last place - everything that had been hastily shoved in his car, or tossed in a box in his office, piled in a heap that was giving him anxiety even looking at it.

things do get better for him from there.

when he eventually explains things to Hollis, she gently suggests that he should get a roommate. he ends up moving in with Phoebe, and they become pretty good friends after a couple months! something about having another person around to help do the chores and wash the dishes and share the space helps, even if it takes him a while to admit it.

he gets his ADHD diagnosis, and finding the exact right medication and dose is a journey he's still on years later - but they're a huge help in getting him to actually knuckle down and finish his work on time. and the whole thing ends up being a chance for him to take a step back and really think about what he wants to do with his life. he'd always assumed that being a Psychonaut was his dream, but he'd never really reckoned with what that dream would look like before.

in the end, he sticks with it, but also decides to follow Lili's example in branching out. he applies to study a part-time Bachelor's in Psychology on a remote course, and gets accepted. juggling missions and paperwork and study and relationships (because the whole thing made him realise he also wasn't setting aside any time for himself, and wow, dating is a thing) is a lot - but he manages to figure it out, day by day.

(Lili comes back to the Psychonauts after graduating. she and Raz have both changed a lot over those four years, but on their first mission together they hit it off like a house on fire - and the rest is history!)

[lunar-years]

Ok but how did Phoebe contact Jamie to invite him to uncles day? Did she email him? Slide into his dms using her hot moms Twitter account? Accost him in the Richmond parking lot? I need answers

I truly think Jamie has met Phoebe before (because of course he has, he hangs out with Roy all the time. Roy is constantly talking about him to the point where Phoebe has no choice but to assume Roy would want him there with him on the best holiday of the year). And therefore he has at least briefly met Phoebe's mother in past.

So probably, Roy gave Jamie's number to his sister just in case, because I like to think Roy gets paranoid over insane scenarios he's made up in his head and convinced himself could absolutely definitely happen, and Jamie is low-key his emergency contact now, and it spirals from there. Roy's brain at 3:00 a.m. while he’s getting ready to go over to Jamie's house, running non-stop like: "but what if my sister needs to call me about something urgent that's happened to Phoebe but I'm unreachable because my knee gave out while Jamie and I were jogging by the Thames and when I went down my phone flew out of my pocket and shattered along the concrete and when Jamie was helping me up he accidentally kicked it into the water? So then when she can’t reach me my sister tries to call Keeley, but of course Keeley's not up because it's 5:00 a.m. so she also misses this important call...but wait!...who do I always happen to be with who also happens to be attached at the hip to his cell phone and would never ever miss a call?" and that is how he gruffly slides his sister Jamie Tartt's cell phone number written on a slip of paper in his terrible chicken-scratch and tells her to put it in her phone contact list strictly for emergencies.

Roy's sister of course recognizes the power she wields here and abuses it immediately. amen.