#they are very small. the way i'm picturing it right now is they were born a few months after the tower fell.

[marclef]

lord help me i have fallen into the Noise and Noisette kiddos rabbithole (in part thanks to @abbyroseflame24 and @klownkoster ehehehehehe)

behold...... THEM. came up with the names Poppy and Mustard because they sounded cute 🤗

dunno what i'm gonna do with these babies yet, but take them. take my very good children. i love them very much.

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[very-lonely-ghost]

Samurai and a Wrighter

Parring: Modern! Mizu x Foreign! Elish teacher! Fem! reader - non established relationship

Warning: Not proofread, SFW, Fluff, Mizu motioned as a guy,

About: you move to Japan to become an English teacher. One day you meet Mizu. You both form a strong bond that one day blooms into something more.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Hellooooo Thank you for the idea. I made it more into a story then head canons, so I hope you like it Thank you and let me know if you want more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You moved to Japan to become an English teacher at a small school. In your spare time you were a journalist. You liked living in Japan though you had only been there for about only 2 ½ months. You had learned Japanese before moving but almost every day you learned a new world from the locals in the small town you work in. 

Whenever you journaled, you had a place in the woods you would always go to. There was a grand cherry blossom tree that you loved and a river going almost all away around it in the opening. It was beautiful and you loved it. 

Though one day you meet a person. 

~~~

It was a normal Saturday as you sat under the grand cherry blossom tree writing. It was the cherry blossom season, so the blossoms of the tree were beautiful. You took pictures and a few of the fallen flowers and had put it in your journal that you were now writing in. 

You sat there listening to the sound of the animals and the calm river running. After a minute or two you hear someone. You looked up from your writing to see a person. They were carrying a sword and had their hair tied up. 

For a moment you got a bit nervous that they were going to attack you. 

“Ummm… Hello, may I help you” You spoke to them in Japanese, stuttering a bit.

They looked at you through their orange tinted glasses and were a bit surprised to see you there. They stopped walking and just looked at you. They tilled their head at you as if surprised that you spoke Japanese. 

“I- umm… you're not here to hurt me right” You asked nervously of what they were goanna do with the sword. They followed your line of sight to the sword and then understood. 

_________Pov Shift 

Mizu had walked to the clearing to practice training. Something she hadn't done in a while being too busy. When she arrived there, she didn’t expect someone to be there. 

As she walked into the clear she saw a girl. A very pretty girl she had to admit. Though she could tell you weren’t born in Japan. Based on (Skin tone), (hair color), and (eye color). Though all of those things caught her attention in a way. 

I- umm… you're not here to hurt me right” The person spoke out. As she followed their line of sight, she realized she was carrying a weapon in her hand. 

“Oh no I'm not goanna hurt you I was just coming here to train.” Mizu responded to their question. It seemed to put them at ease. 

“Do you want me to move so you can train?” The girl asked out to her. 

“Ummm nah you're all good. Maybe you could give me some motivation.” Mizu responds playfully. 

_________Pov Shift

The tips of your ear turned a light shade of red as they said that. You couldn’t help it; they were very pretty, and they just said that. Though you just met this person god damn it there is something about them. 

“May I ask your name, Samurai?” You called out. The nickname matches with the blade that they held in hand. 

_________Pov Shift 

Mizu didn’t expect the nickname; she was a bit taken aback by it. 

“Mizu” She responded to the girl's question.

“Mizu” She said, pondering. “Mizu, like water. That's a pretty name” They smiled at her. 

“Yeah, I guess” Mizu said a little waver in her voice from the complement. “What's yours?” She asked. 

_________Pov Shift 

“Y/N” You said. 

“Y/n? It matches you” The person you know as Mizu said. Though there was something about how they said your name that made you breath hitch for a second. 

~~~

After that day the both of you became good friends. Best friends as you would say but Mizu isn’t into that type of stuff. The both of you did everything together even eventually moving in together. 

Though this time feelings were starting to be fluid. Though Mizu was a girl as you found out it didn’t drive you away and Mizu appreciated it. 

Also, whenever you had trouble with something whether it be chopsticks or words, she always helped you. She was so soft with you, and it made you feel safe. 

There were sometimes when she visited your class so you students could learn about what it's like to wield the blade for their story they were writing. 

~~~ 

“Hay Samurai” You say never forget the nickname. Mizu looked over to you from her spot at the table eating. 

“What's up?” She responded before eating more of her food. 

“Could you come to my class tomorrow pleassss????” You asked her with the best puppy dog eyes you could. 

“Why would I” She said before she met your eyes. 

________Pov Shift 

Fuck the puppy eyes. Mizu was a sucker for their eyes, not being able to say no. 

“Well, I gave them an assignment for writing in English about writing a story about samurai. I know you aren’t like a full one but please. They would love it.” They plead to her. Even without them explaining she would have done it with those stupid eyes. 

“Ok I’ll Go” She said, shaking her head. 

_________Pov Shift 

You started dancing around in excitement at Miu agreeing to go. 

“HURRAYYYY Thank you Mizuuuuu” You said before quickly kissing her on the cheek and running off.

___Pov shift 

Mizu was shocked at what you just did. She put her hand to where y/n kissed her as blush took over her face. They had never done that before. Does that mean? Noooo it couldn’t, right???

—---------------(Time Skip) 

You and Mizu walked to your classroom. You buzzed existent as Mizu looked at you smiling still with the thoughts of what happened last night in her head. 

As the classes started you introduced Mizu and let your students and then gave them time to work on their writing. It went pretty well.

Once when classes were changed and Mizu was saying goodbye to the student, one of them had asked Mizu if she was their Husband. Mizu bushed a bit at the idea but told the kid no and sent them on the way. 

The day went on without any trouble. Though Mizu was deep in thought about you for some of it. 

~~~

After that day the only thing Mizu could think of was you. It also didn’t help that she saw you every single day. She tried to push her feelings to the side, but they kept coming back. She didn’t know what to do so she thought for a long time till she had an idea.

~~~

“Mizu, where are you taking me?” You asked Mizu as she led you somewhere. 

“A special place” She responds, holding you hand as she guides you through the woods. 

She led you by the hand till you all got to spot then regretfully letting go of your hand. 

“You can look now” You took off the blonde fold which was a bandana. You looked around to see Mizu holding a bouquet of (favorite flowers). Around her you could notice it was the place where you met each other. 

“Will- Will you be my Girlfriend?” She asked, blushing creeping up to her face. 

You couldn't control yourself as you ran to her smiling big and hugging her. She even stumbled a bit back and made sure you didn’t crush the flowers. 

“Yess Yess a thousand times yessss!!!!” you cheered in her arms. Mizu smiled at your acceptance and let you over to a little place she made.

Under the Cherry blossom tree there was a little pile of blankets and comfy things and fair lights all around. It was so cute and made your heart feel warm. 

You both sat down with Mizu’s laptop and watched a movie. You were both comfortably in each other's arms. Slowly sleep started to take over you as you fell asleep in Mizu’s arms. 

You felt her kiss your head and whispers...

“Good night my Writer” You could hear the smile in her voice as she said it.

“Good night my Samurai.” You said in a tired voice. With that you fell asleep as Mizu held you as tightly in her arms, never wanting to let go of you.

Her Writer

You Samurai

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thannnnnnk you I hope you liked it I did my best and again let me know if you want. more.

[lossie92]

When Winter Comes - Emperor Madara AU

Ever since I posted this comic last year for @wisiaden's MadaTobi June Bonanza, I've been toying with the idea of making this AU into a fic, not just a short comic.

Thanks to Wisia and @kooriicolada who have graciously lent me their ears over the last few weeks, this fic is now officially a work in progress!

Hope you enjoy a small look into the story ahead. Please let me know your thoughts - I'm very curious! 👀

-

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, descriptions of injury, implied/referenced abuse

-

Without saying anything, Madara approached the kneeling man, curious despite himself. Since the omega had his head bowed, it was impossible to see the expression on his face, but the trembling of his curled shoulders was more than enough to give Madara an idea about what the man was feeling.

In the background he could hear the crowd become lively again as it regained its ability to speak.

Madara listened to the cacophony of various complaints about the apparently cursed young man by the name Tobirama who, according to the whispers, was nothing but trouble and couldn't be trusted with anything. 

A blight on the lives of the other servants.

A demon child with mud for blood.

A disgrace.

Somehow Madara highly doubted any of these claims were true. 

Although he could see the evidence of Tobirama's apparent clumsiness in the form of broken dishes, spilled food, and a beaten up wooden tray lying nearby, he suspected Tobirama hadn't done it on purpose. The tray looked heavy and, considering the vitriol thrown at his head, it wasn't too hard to imagine someone actually tripping the man either. 

Madara couldn't say why he was so sure of this, but there was something about this obviously scared, beaten man, which made him believe he wasn't looking at a troublemaker, but a victim instead.

"Silence!" 

His voice cracked through the air like a whip and in an instant all was blissfully silent.

Perfectly aware that everyone was paying attention and probably wondering what he would do, Madara hooked his fingers under Tobirama's chin and gently lifted the man's face as he said, "Don't be afraid, Tobirama. You may look at me."

Tobirama resisted for a moment or two, clearly hesitant, before he looked up. 

Madara's breath left him in a rush. In all of his life he had never seen a pair of eyes more beautiful. Their almond shape and the long lashes surrounding them were more than enough to inspire awe, but it was their colour that truly made them mesmerising.

Red.

Red like the fresh blood dripping over Madara's fingers from the cut on Tobirama's chin.

The red of the Uchiha clan mon.

These were the eyes of the sun goddess herself, Amaterasu-okami. She, who had been the patron and guardian of the Uchiha family for generations; the one Madara prayed to each morning at sunrise. 

Like every Uchiha, Madara has heard the stories of how their clan came to rule over the Land of Fire. It was Amaterasu's Mandate that granted them this divine right and power. 

What was lesser known was the fact that every once in a while the goddess of shining heavens would send a blessing to the earth. The red eyes were believed to signify its arrival. The Uchiha considered people born with them a sign of good luck and of prosperity, and an encounter with a blessed individual was said to herald the arrival of a particularly opulent era.

Although Madara had always been a sceptic at heart when it came to legends, believing most of not all to be nothing other than hearsay, but he couldn't quite shake off the feeling that his meeting with Tobirama wasn't a mere coincidence.

Such beautiful eyes in a face this fair…

Even the still bleeding cuts and the distraught expression couldn't distract from their appeal. Part of it was for sure Tobirama's overall beauty. The few tendrils of hair, which pulled silver when light hit them a certain way, framed his face, only further adding to the enchanting picture he made. His features, Madara noted, were well-balanced and delicate, though sharpened by his unnatural thinness, and his skin was impossibly soft under Madara's fingers, feeling almost like the richest velvet.

To put it simply, he was a vision and Madara would be a liar if he said he wasn't thoroughly charmed.

Extending a hand to help Tobirama stand up, he asked, "Are you alright?"

The omega stumbled as he stood, hissing in pain, but Madara caught him before he could fall again. He was surprisingly tall, a bit taller than Madara himself. A curiosity for sure. Not many people grew to such a height and it was certainly an impressive feat. However, there was also no denying that Tobirama's height made it even more obvious how worryingly thin he was. 

His condition was a cause for concern to say the least and the way he was now leaning on Madara made it abundantly clear. There was really no point in denying that Tobirama was injured on top of being severely weakened and cold, his fingers like ice against Madara's own. It begged the question how on earth the man had been able to work up until now.

Without doubt he needed a healer and rest. Possibly food and sweet lemon water as well.

"Tobirama?"

Blinking owlishly, the man finally whispered, "I… I'm f-fine."

There was little doubt in Madara's mind that this wasn't the case, but it didn't feel right to question him further so publicly.

By all accounts he had been through enough already.

"Good," Madara said as he brought Tobirama's hands to his lips before blowing warm air on them to warm them up bit. When they felt less freezing to touch, he pressed a lingering kiss to each before placing them against his chest, right over his heart. "Now let us find you a healer, beautiful."

[desertdollranch]

Dolls brands I never thought I'd own, part 4: Global PenPals

Meet Amity Anderson!

This doll was a tough cookie to track down. I first stumbled across her last year while searching for a completely different doll on eBay. I thought she was adorable, but priced way too high, so I let someone else have her. When I saw her come up again recently for a lot cheaper, I lost the bidding war. When she popped up unexpectedly a third time, I managed to snap her up right away.

The first time I saw her, I was curious about her origin, since the listing said nothing about the brand, Global PenPals. I figured it was someone's small business, because it's an unfortunate truth that many, many 18 inch doll companies produce beautiful and quality dolls for a few short years and then go out of business. Because she certainly didn't look poorly made or low quality; she obviously had a lot of love put into her production. I could tell she had a really nice wig and a carefully sculpted, realistic face mold. She was meant to be more than just a toy, but a little friend as well. That's what I liked about her. She was special, rare, obscure, and unique. And as much as I love my American Girl dolls, I also love the rare and obscure 18 inch dolls that have fallen into my lap over the years through pure luck. That has turned me into a connoisseur of obscure dolls. The rarer, the better.

So for that reason I couldn't get her off my mind. I became very fixated on finding one. I did a Google search that brought up nothing but the listing for her, plus a few dolls with similar brand names, or sites for finding an actual human pen pal. But I noticed the listing photo included a picture of her box, which had the URL of the brand's website. It was defunct, so I plugged into the Wayback Machine at archive.org to see what I could find.

Keep reading for a deep dive into The Global PenPals.

(Hello to anyone in the future who might be doing a web search about this doll! I'm sure you've found little to no information. I've put everything right here for your convenience!)

...

The site's first snapshot was taken in February 2011. It has a very short intro:

"This site is dedicated to children everywhere. Autumn Woods and Amity Anderson will begin pen pal corresponding with children in other parts of the world. They will learn about different living conditions and diverse cultural traditions. Will they discover that children are the same worldwide? Come along with us and see!"

None of the links on the sidebar were archived by the Wayback machine, so I looked at the next three snapshots, taken in July 2013, January 2014, and December 2014 (the final snapshot).

Now this snapshot displays a lot more content, although once again most of the site didn't get archived. The intro is more or less the same. But now we can see illustrations of the two main characters, Autumn Woods and Amity Anderson.

Clicking through the "Meet and learn more about Autumn" graphic linked to a page that had biographies for both characters.

Autumn Woods introduces herself first. She was born in October, hence her name, but she loves Christmas more. She lives in Kennewick, Washington with her parents and younger sister, and likes her school. She's athletic and loves to do cartwheels. Her best friend Amity lives in Basin City, near the farm where her grandparents live. She doesn't know a whole lot about the world outside of Kennewick, so she's looking forward to making pen pals all around the world.

Amity Anderson introduces herself next. She loves living on a farm in Basin City, and most of the other kids at her school are also from farming families, or live in the area seasonally, which has made her curious about the lives of other children of different background. Her family grows cherries, and sometimes the crops fail due to weather conditions. They also have lots of animals including dogs, cats, and cows. She has a secret hideout in the hay loft.

The next page linked at the top contains all of the pen pal letters to and from Autumn and Amity.

There are 10 pages of these letters. The first letter is dated June 11th of 2011, and the final one is dated August 14th of 2013.

Next link is Marcia's Dolls.

To sum it up, Global PenPals was started by Marcia Elovich in 2010. She had always sewn doll clothes for her granddaughter, and her husband built doll furniture. She used dolls to help schoolchildren learn more about the lives and perspectives of children all over the world. She modeled the dolls' faces on her granddaughter and niece, and hopes to introduce more dolls to the brand.

The next link is to the shop.

Only the Amity doll is being sold here. All the images are broken, but I can see that Amity cost $59.00.

The next tab, Media, is pretty much empty.

That's all that I can access with the Wayback Machine, but I didn't stop there.

I Googled Marcia Elovich and found the three Global PenPals books she has published.

These are current, no need to use the Wayback Machine. Here's the link to the list if you're curious about the books. You can click through and read summaries of each.

"About the Author" on the second and third books:

Marcia Harvey Elovich has enjoyed interacting with children in family, at school and other community settings. When she began looking forward to retirement from the local school district, she set up a website around two fictional characters, Amity Anderson and Autumn Woods, using her granddaughter and her niece as visual models for the character images she draws. Through the website, Marcia continues to story-tell to youngsters and adults alike. Amity lives on the farm in Basin City where, in fact, Marcia was raised, and she pursues many of the same interests and activities Marcia did while growing up with her best friend Linda. Autumn lives in town and attends Amistad Elementary School, where Marcia formerly worked as a para-eductor, and earlier as a nurse in the Kennewick School District. This was the birthplace of her peaked interest in interacting with children and later-in-life interest in education. Marcia has recently begun manufacturing of the character dolls and is now converting the website stories into children's books. Also within the framework of her stories, Marcia has interactions from her personal pen pals with whom she is communicating around the globe. Through contrast and compare, she can better present awareness of how alike we are from country to country, culture to culture, religion to religion. "Perhaps the next generation will be more compassionate, not merely tolerating diversity but embracing it!" she adds. In their retirement, Marcia works with her husband and sidekick Bob, marketing her dolls and his woodworked doll furniture. She has one young adult son living at home and an older son living within the community. Her daughter and grandchildren live out of state, so she has to love them long-distance. Through Bob, she has acquired a second daughter who lives in the area and a step-son living out of state. Marcia specifically wants to thank her mother and father, Bob and Kay Harvey, for providing a childhood almost as colorful as the fictional one of which she writes. They gave to her, her three brothers and many childhood friends their mentoring in an era when the village actually did help raise the children.

I also found Marcia's Pinterest profile. She has pinned exactly four images.

The first two are the illustrations seen on the website. The other two are pictures of the dolls.

This picture's caption:

"Amity Anderson if one of the first two characters at www.theglobalpenpals.com and the first to be manufactured as a doll. She is vinyl with soft body and has beautiful peach complexion, with perfect detail down to tiny doll- scale freckles across her nose. She comes in clothes as seen, turquoise tennis shoes, and the matching elastic headband on her long, tangle-free auburn hair. I designed the doll after my own granddaughter. Lovely presentation box designed solely for The Global PenPals."

This confirms that the doll I have is indeed Amity, not Autumn as I had sort of guessed. Amity is illustrated with bangs, but it seems that changed at some point in the doll's design.

I guess that's Autumn on the left? I see no indication on the site or elsewhere that she was ever sold, so it's possible she never made it past the prototype stage.

There's very little else out there about the dolls. A few pictures on Worthpoint with captions stating what I've already put here.

Amity seems to be one of those ultra-rare dolls that only a few collectors know about. After losing out on two other listings, I know that at least two other people do have one and know what Amity is worth. But I have no idea exactly how many dolls were ever produced and sold before the brand disappeared, which probably happened within three years of their debut.

I wonder if their failure may have been due to the price point, $59, which seems very low for a doll with such a nice wig, sleep eyes, a cloth body, a beautifully designed box, and proprietary clothing.

[kit-williams]

Note: Barn Anon. I'm very new to this whole thing but it's gotten me all tangled up in a mess about it. This has been running through my head while I was at work. Im also stupid shy. I can't remember anything regarding life-spans but a part of me likes to imagine they're the equivalent of your dad finding an abandoned a tortoise as a kid that has since outlived him and is now going to outlive you too.

He's been around long before you were born. He had suddenly appeared with no hint of where he could've come from. Your great-grand parents had a heart attack when their daughter didn't come home at the usual time, only to find her playing with the lumbering giant metal-armoured being. your grandmother had named the giant Castle for his size. If he had a proper name, he never gave it.

There are pictures, black and white ones, of your grandmother growing up. in most of them, Castle was always somewhere in the background or even right beside her. then soon it would have less images of your grandmother with Castle and instead have your father and his siblings with Castle. then black and white pictures would change to coloured ones featuring you and your cousins, all with Castle.

It is odd. You flip through the old photo albums, nothing how Castle has gained scrapes on his armour over the years. yet apart from those cosmetic changes, he seems otherwise unchanged. Your father too had spoken of how Castle's strength and stamina never weakened over the years.

You had learned, when you left the small town and entered the big city, that Castle is a Space Marine. Though you are a little confused, most seem to state that Space Marines are typically social beings and prefer to be in groups. Why is Castle alone? Why seek out an ordinary human family for company instead of his own kind? Or maybe it was because he was alone that he decided to latch onto your grandmother all those years ago?

You hear the loud heavy footsteps on wooden floor and put the photo album back on the shelf. You had taken time off work to return to your small quiet hometown to tidy up your grandmother's house. Your grandmother had passed on a few weeks ago and according to her neighbours, Castle had been the one by her side till the end. You look out the window to see Castle. He is just as you remembered him all those years ago. Tall, mighty, silent and ever vigilant. He has been rather withdrawn ever since your grandmother passed, but as you watch your own daughter run up to the gentle giant, you feel the flicker of warmth and hope when he couches down to her level.

He comes and goes as he wishes, for days, weeks and once even months. However he always came back and maybe, just maybe, if you moved into your grandmother's house with your gaggle of kids... maybe he'll decide to stay. Noone in your family truly understands him, but he has always been a part of your family.

Fuckin hell Barn anon hardly anything I can add onto this

"Dinner!" You shout out into the gloom watching and looking around before you finally whistle out in the way your grandmother had taught you to call Castle. He could speak but Grandmother said that it took him awhile to learn English as what he spoke was like church Latin but nothing sounded like words you knew. She and Castle had made a language out of whistles and their own words. You soon hear your gaggle of kids as they are carried by Castle trudging out of the tree line at the edge of the property.

You remember the day you sat down with Castle and told him how you were going to move in. Out of all of her grandchildren it seems you were the only one Castle tolerated and well you were close enough to him always happy to see him. You told him that you were moving back into grandmother's home as it was left to your father and he in turn gave it to you.

He was allowed to come and go however he pleased as you knew he was always your grandmothers.

"Say Castle kids!" You say pulling out the polaroid camera as you went to go meet them in the summer evening air. Those days that feel like they are always endless where day slowly bleeds into night like a wound slowly losing blood.

"Castle!" The small chorus cries with big smiles on their faces as you take the picture and shake it.

You can't help but smile as you see the normally stoic Castle with one of his trademark contented smiles... a smile that reaches his eyes. A smile where he knows he is wanted and loved.

[dailyhelldorm]

[TL][Eichi Feature Scout 2] An Intangible Treasure/Chapter 2

Scenario Writer: Yuumasu Character: Eichi, Tori, Keito, Nazuna, Leo Season: Winter

Summary: Eichi decided to take a picture of himself that hadn't been seen on normal live or TV yet. Since Tori has requested of wanting to see him spending time with his friends...

[♪]

Location: ES (Exterior)

Few days later

Eichi: Yah, Producer-chan. At last, our work is finished.

...Hmm? Why are you making such a strange face?

Ah. You are surprised because there is no one else in the car?

Fufu. I have to do it like this, or we can’t be together alone you know.

Seisoukan is in the small distance range, but let's share some stories while we are on a ride, shall we?

Now, please come on. If you wouldn't mind taking my hand, My Lady ♪

Location: Seisoukan Apartment (Exterior)

Ten minutes later

Leo: Ah! Is that the car?

Oi~ over here! We are here~ ♪

Keito: We are at our meeting spot. You don't need to wave your hands like that, they are going to come here anyway.

Leo: Keito is way too meticulous~ At a time like this, it's the emotion that is mattered ☆

Nazuna: What kind of emotion is that...?

Eichi: I have made you wait. Keito, Tsukinaga-kun.

Hmm, oh my? Nito-kun is here too?

Keito: I asked him to be my helper in a rush.

Eichi: A helper.

Keito: Producer is going to be the photographer, so in reality I am the only babysitter here. I can't watch over both Eichi and Tsukinaga with just myself.

Nazuna: If I'm being real, I actually don't want to come along. Though when I heard about his problems, I got the feeling things would get out of hand if Keito-chin was the only one there.

But you can rest assured. I take up his call so I will surely help you guys out.

Leo: If there are two nannies, then I can do whatever I like without restraint! Please look after me, Keito-mama, Nazu-mama ♪

Keito: Look after yourself, you incorrigible.

Nazuna: Ahaha. He's like a big kid~

Still? I heard you are going to take candid photos for the Feature Live's pamphlet, but specifically what are you taking?

Eichi: Actually, we have no particular plan. I can't think of anything for the theme of spending time with friends of the same age.

Tsukasa-kun's pamphlet photos were already taken in the game center... Uh~m.

For the time being, how about we take the helicopter for a sightseeing flight?

Keito: Reject. What on earth do you mean 'for the time being'? If you do that, won't the thing miss the whole concept?

Eichi: Is that so? I don't think it will deviate too much from my mental image?

Leo: That's 'cause Angel is a born bourgeois~ You have the face of the kind who normally would hop on a helicopter ♪

Eichi: A face who would normally hop on a helicopter? Fufu, this is the first time I was told like that.

...What's wrong, Producer-chan? Sightseeing flight sounds very appealing but it would make the pamphlets following mine become a harder work, you say?

Nazuna: She is right~ If we are going to do a sightseeing flight, it would make other activities shabby in comparison.

Keito: Hmhm... Eichi, how about we go to the shopping mall?

Not like last year, you won't have to worry about exhausting yourself with your physical condition right now.

Eichi: Shopping mall? Sounds good, they sell a lot of things there, just looking at them is fun enough. Let's go to there then, Keito-mama ♪

Keito: Don't you call me 'mama'.

Location: Shopping Mall 1F Hallway

One hour later. At the shopping mall

Leo: ーHey, have Angel even come to the shopping mall?

You probably own some customized goods... right? For you, the store will likely bring any goods to your house, yeah?

Eichi: That's right. Or the goods are taken to the salon gathering, and the person in charge will bring them in for us to view them.

Last year, I came to watch Hajime-kun’s and everyone's live at the shopping mall, you see[1]. From then on, I avail for several times.

Nazuna: Hajime-chin's live? Producer, did they have that live?

...Heh. You carried out a live that was extended exclusively to the first years of all units?

Thank you for letting them experience a lot of things, Producer ♪

Eichi: A lot of people here come to pass their time as they like. Every time I come here, this atmosphere always feels nice ... ♪

Hey, what kind of store do Producer-chan want? I will buy whatever you like.

Keito: Don't you go and buy a store.

Eichi: Fufu. It's just a joke, a silly joke ♪

Nazuna: Tenshouin's words don't sound like a joke though. You might really gotta buy one.

Eichi: Anyway... Producer-chan, what's wrong?

You're right. Tsukinaga-kun is gone.

Keito: I was paying my attention but... What a blunder!

What's with you, Eichi? Why are you looking so happy?

Eichi: Did you know, Keito, that they can do a missing children announcement in the shopping mall ♪

Keito: We don't need to use that yet. We will cause trouble for the shopping mall staff, so making an announcement would be the final resort.

He mustn't have gone too far. He was just here until now... Hmm?

Nazuna: I hear some applause. Let's see... From the instruments department over there.

Eichi: Aah... Fufu. It seems Tsukinaga-kun is conducting some performance. Shall we go and look at him?

…I hear the camera’s shutter sound. Producer-chan, did you take a good picture?

Will you let me see it? Let's see...

Fufu. Whatever self I am showing, they all look natural and positively relaxed here.

...Memories are intangible, but pictures like these can be preserved.

Please take a lot of pictures today, because I want you to record days like this.

Someday when we look back, I hope we can all laugh together while saying 'what a good time it was' ... ♪

[☆]

The live they are talking about is Mall Live.

Directory: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

[atinyjules]

Monalisa's Sister - Dad!Renjun

Hi! I am back with another dad au! This time featuring dad!Renjun and his little munchkin Zhanghao so enjoyy! It came out a lot shorter than expected o(╥﹏╥)o

Genre: Dad au, fluff, established relationship

Pairings: Dad!Renjun x Female oc

Warnings: None

Characters: Renjun, Yuri, Zhanghao (4), Ten, Ellie (7) and Xavier (6).

While the rest of the guys along with their families were busy searching for Halloween costumes the Huang family were busy getting their house ready for the annual Neo Family Halloween Party and it was the Huang's turn to host this year's party so the pressure was on for them.

"I'm tiredd!" Hao hao whined and sat down on the floor while holding the box filled with the fake spiders and cobwebs.

"I know but we need to finish on time." Renjun told his son who whined in protest.

"But its two days away!" he whined and walked to their Art studio where his mother was sat on a tall stool painting a large portrait for the party.

"Momma! Do we have to go all out for this party?!" he exclaimed to which she chuckled.

"Ask your dad~" she said while continuing her painting.

"Of course we have to go all out! Not after Haechan's party last year...his family rented out an amusement park!" Renjun exclaimed as Hao Hao smiled.

"That was fun!" he said earning a scowl from his dad.

"See, this is why we need to do something even better!" he exclaimed as his wife sighed.

"Junnie...we don't have to be better than anyone, we just have to host the party our way not try to defeat anyone who did it better the year before." she said as he sighed.

"You're right Yuri...thanks for the reality check." Renjun said and gave a small peck on the lips to his wife who finally got back down from the stool.

"Your welcome-where's Hao Hao?" Yuri asked and looked around when Hao Hao came in with a picture.

"Momma, is this you and dad?" he gave the picture to his mother who gasped in surprise.

"I haven't seen this picture in forever! Its a picture from when I first met your dad!" she exclaimed and handed the picture to Renjun who chuckled and rubbed the picture with his index picture.

"Brings back memories." Renjun said looking at the picture of him as Peter Pan and Yuri as Tinkerbell.

"Momma, did you meet dad on Halloween?" Hao Hao asked his mother as she nodded with a smile.

"We sure did...that was the first time I came to Seoul and your Uncle Ten took me to Uncle Johnny's Halloween party. That's when I stumbled across a very cute and dashing Peter Pan." Yuri said with a chuckled as Renjun smiled at his wife then Hao Hao.

"This was when I met and fell in love with your momma, that's why Halloween for the Huang family is a really special day Hao Hao. If I had never met your momma then you would have never been born so maybe that's why I tend to exaggerate Halloween a little too much." He said as Hao Hao giggled.

"Everything makes sense now! It makes me love Halloween even moree!" Hao Hao exclaimed earning a kiss on the cheek from his mother and a pat on the from his Father.

It was the day of the party and there was some little time left before the guests would start arriving. The Huang's were quickly setting up the finishing touches when the door bell rang.

"I'll get it!" Hao Hao who was dressed as Moomin went to get the door.

"Wassup Moomin~" Hao Hao immediately gasped and threw himself on the man who was dressed up as Monalisa.

"Uncle Ten!" Hao Hao exclaimed as Ten smiled and picked him up.

"Ayy, nice decor...Ten is impressed." Ten said and went out the door.

"Ellie, Xavier! Come in quickly or else no candies!" Ten called out to his own children who came running at the mention of candies.

"Hey Zhanghao!" Ellie exclaimed and gave her younger cousin a hug.

"Ellie! Xavier!" he exclaimed and hugged his cousins.

"Woah! Cool decor!" they both exclaimed when Renjun and Yuri came out of the living room.

"Ten!" Yuri who was dressed as a fairy exclaimed and hugged her big brother.

"Ayy, good thing I wore my iconic outfit again, your outfits remind me of the first time you two met."

"Yeah, who would've thought I would fall for Monalisa's sister." Renjun said pulling Yuri close to him by her waist. As they chatted, their bodies became a distant blur and focussed on the picture that was framed up in the middle of the living room. A picture of Peter Pan and his Tinkerbell in a dimly lit living room.

[starseneyes]

Chenford REWIND- Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 4 Ep 8 & 9

I'm LOVING y'all's requests. Please keep 'em coming! The second I saw chenfordfan2386 request these two, I knew it had to be done. I'm a huge Peyton List fan, and I love episodes that dive deeper into our favorite characters.

SPOILER ALERT: If you like to live an un-spoiled life, this is not the post for you. I try to write these as though I'm seeing them for the first time, and will definitely spoil these episodes and include references to episodes previously aired.

Everybody ready and know what to expect? Great! Let's dive in.

Hit and Run

"I'm losing to Smitty?" "Oh, that's embarrassing."

I love how Tim is commenting on this discussion even as he's pretending not to be a part of it. Lucy looks up at him, a smile on her face like, "you're hopeless".

"You know what would really help? An endorsement from someone who is respected within the department."

Tim looks to Nolan, incredulous. But watch how his face shifts when he looks to Lucy. There's a subtle shift as she leans closer to him, trying to get him to give in.

"No. No. Don't drag me into this. No. I have never endorsed a candidate, and I never will."

Small detail, but I love it. Tim reaches for Lucy's camera first. He hands it to her before getting his own.

"Genny!" "Sergeant Bradford."

As soon as Genny approaches and hugs Tim, Lucy gets out of the way. She has no idea who this woman is, but Genny is making Tim smile and getting physical affection without hesitation. She has to be important to him, right?

"So, what are you doing here?" "I just wanted to see my big brother."

Look at the shift in Lucy Chen with this information! This isn't Tim's new gorgeous girlfriend he's never mentioned. It's his little sister!

"Oh! Hi! I'm Lucy Chen. I know that we just met but if you have any embarrassing stories from his childhood that would be..."

Tim gives a nice glare at Lucy and she shuts up... for now. C'mon, you know Lucy is gonna get that dirt!

"Because I know why you're here, and I've made my position very clear."

Take note, here, that Tim is speaking cryptically. Because, this is a tie back to the worst part of his life, the most broken parts of himself, and the source of so much of his trauma.

Lucy doesn't know how bad it was. Yes, after DOD he opened up enough to tell Lucy that his father "tuned [him] up on the regular"... but that didn't paint the whole picture.

And having his little sister here is going to re-open all those wounds that nobody, save maybe Isabelle, has ever seen.

This tops everything that ever went wrong with her. This is the foundational heartache that defined so much of Tim and how he lives his life. This is the place his nightmares were born and his need for stability and to protect his heart.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Why don't I do one of those ride along thingees? That way, we could have the whole day to catch up." "Yeah, see, you gotta get permission to do a ride along. It's a long process. A ton of paperwork." "Hey, you're a Sergeant, now, you can just approve it yourself."

Lucy knew what she was doing. Does she know exactly what will be discussed? No. But she can see that Tim's avoiding something he needs to face, and the psychology girl in her can't ignore it.

"Did Tim have any nicknames when he was a kid?"

I love Genny's look to Tim on this one. Like, "Is this person for real?"

"Oh, yeah, he tried to highlight his hair right before Prom. He ended up looking like Slim Shady."

I. Love. Lucy's. Positioning. She is literally turned completely toward him, this goofy grin on her face, drinking every second in.

There's a freedom in how she's talking with Genny, how she's watching Tim, and I think about later in the episode when she finds out he's not single... and how I'm glad she didn't know before this scene.

Because look at how happy she is. She's loving every little morsel, learning more about Tim. Yes, she's out for the embarrassing stuff, right now. But, don't you love even the silly facts you learn about the person you love?

"Oh, you know what, I think I have a picture of it." "Oh my god, yes!" "Genny." "What? You'd rather I keep this photo private? That's fine. Let's talk about Dad." "I have nothing to say."

He tries to catch eyes with his sister in the rearview mirror. He's still talking in short-code, not wanting to go further. While Genny knows all the details, of course, he isn't ready to be that vulnerable with Lucy, especially now that he's seeing someone.

Go with me... have you ever had a friend who kinda served as a placeholder for something romantic? I had a gay friend like that back in high school. We were super close and people thought we were dating, but neither of us had any interest in each other. We just did all the couply things together because neither of us had a person.

Lucy once realized she was doing it with Jackson, and I think after the events of 4x01, Tim realizes he was starting to do it with Lucy. Let's be real, he's been doing those things forever with Lucy. But, I think he started to notice and it scared the shit out of him.

His ex-wife was a Rookie with him. They were both officers. She was UC. And there are too many similarities there even if Lucy is a completely different person from Isabelle.

I firmly believe part of why Tim is seeing someone nobody knows about is because he wants to date someone separate from the station to convince himself that he can.

He needs to convince himself that there's nothing between him and Lucy, because he is in no way ready to face it.

So, of course he doesn't want to let Lucy into his heart and personal life further. He wants to keep her where he is since some part of him knows he can never push her back to where she was before the veils started to fall.

"Okay. What's your cell phone number? I'll text it to you." "Genny-"

Lucy is all smiles. Because she still doesn't get it. Lucy might've forgotten Tim's one sentence about his father post-DOD (for goodness sake, that scene had a lot going on). She was in a fragile mental state, and after Tim returned her ring, I wouldn't blame her if she forgot 90% of what he said.

"You are impossible." "I'm impossible? Lucy, who's more difficult? Me or Tim?" "Of course she's gonna pick me."

I cackled so hard the first time I heard this line that I had to rewind for the rest of the scene. How Melissa O'Neil kept a straight face is beyond me, but it makes it all the funnier.

"Because you are the most stubborn person alive. Which, by the way, is why you're still single." "First of all, I'm not. And second-" "Wait. What? You're seeing someone?" "This is insane. There's an armed and dangerous suspect at large. We gotta focus."

How long has he been riding with Lucy and said nothing about this chick? Now, we all know Tim likes to pretend that there's no personal business in that Shop, but this episode proves that particular rules is constantly in flux.

Lucy was doing a good job at staying out of the sibling fight and concentrating on her work... until she heard Tim wasn't single. He redirects and she holds up her hand. The wife equivalent of, "Alright, we've had this fight before, no point having it, again. I got it."

But Tim slides a look back at Lucy. He didn't meant to say anything about his new girlfriend in front of Lucy, but he's so comfortable with her, he forgot himself.

That's what it really boils down to. If it had been almost anyone else in the Shop, he wouldn't have been that transparent.

But he's comfortable enough around Lucy to say things without thought. And the last thing he wants to do right now is let her in more.

"What is your favorite show? Mine is House Hunters International." "Oh my god, the best."

Can we just take a moment to appreciate these future sisters-in-law bonding? Lucy and Genny definitely understand one another, and I have a feeling their kids are gonna grow up together with sleepovers, movie nights, and fun DIY projects. What? A gal can dream, right?

"Maybe I should just let it go, but that house was my childhood home. I don't wanna tear it down. I want another family to live there and make happy memories." "Of course! I moved out ten years ago, and when I think of home, I still think of my parents house."

Lucy is being conversational and compassionate. But she doesn't understand. Tim can't take anymore, and he pulls over.

Watch. Tim's. Hand. Eric Winter is an actor who acts all the way through his fingers and his toes. And you can really see it here with how his hand is suddenly unsteady on the wheel.

Because "home" is a hard word for someone who grew up in an unstable one. Genny was more shielded from it, even though she grew up around it. When you're the target of the anger and frustration... it's just different.

You think of the "house" and know it was never a "home". Not for you. Not for Tim. Tim grew up in a house. "Home" denotes a certain level of safety that was never afforded him.

No, he can't take another minute of this. He can't pretend that he's not mentally back there—just a helpless kid who did nothing to deserve what happened.

"What's wrong?" "Tim? Look, I know you don't feel the same way I do, but our childhood wasn't all bad."

Gosh. It's like talking to my little brother. I'm Tim and he's Genny, and the younger one was somehow so shielded despite growing up in the same house. There are legit tears in my eyes, because it's so darn hard. If not for my journals I kept religiously, I might question my own memory when talking to him.

"Stop. Alright? Are you really getting nostalgic over that place? What do you want? Some other family to just cuddle up under the broken plaster where dad slammed my head against the wall?"

We finally see Lucy, again. She's been cut out of this since they pulled over. But, we get to see her react. Because now she gets it.

There's so much for her to unpack, here about how this informs who Tim is, why he makes the choices he does, and how he's gotten so broken over the years. He didn't have a great foundation.

"Dad had a lot of demons." "Dad was a monster." "He's changed. You haven't seen him in 20 years." "The only thing that's changed is that the drinking caught up with him. He can't throw a punch, but he's the same guy underneath." "He's not, and you'd know that if you'd visit the hospice." "Not in a million years."

Tim hasn't glanced at Lucy once during this. It's not about her. But, in an indirect way, this shows, again, how close they are.

He's not censoring himself in front of Lucy. He's speaking freely about something very personal. Later he might re-think it, but in the moment he's comfortable enough for this scene to happen.

"Hospice?" "I had to move him out of Assisted Living last month. Dad's dying."

Hospice care in America is usually the end of the line. No chance of recovery. Make you comfortable until you pass.

And there's nothing anyone else can say at that moment. Tim's barely keeping it together, and it's been a long time since we've seen him this broken in the Shop.

But it really can work that way. One word. One memory. One reference that throws you back into the worst of it all. And suddenly, all the emotions you felt then but weren't allowed to show flood you to the point that you're barely containing yourself, and it was all so long ago you'd think the wounds had healed.

Tim needs to get his head back in the game. So, he wordlessly pulls back into traffic.

"When you were 7 years old he dropped you in Griffith Park with a compass and made you find your way home." "Which I did." "Tim Test."

How fast he looked at her. Lucy catches his glance and realizes how it hit. She didn't mean it to, but it hurt. Because that comparison to the person you want least to be like is agony... even if the words weren't intended to burn. They sear into your flesh and you start to re-examine yourself to see if there's a trace of them there.

You share the same DNA, but that doesn't mean you're the same. Your choices define you, and you have to believe that you can break cycles or else you'll break apart.

Lucy just equated Tim to his father. She didn't mean anything by it, but the barely breathed, passing thought is imprinted in Tim's memory, now.

"Uh, Tim, listen... your sister needs you." "Lucy-" "I realize that I'm overstepping here, but just hear me out. It's clear that you got the worst of it with your father, but she lived through it with you. Instead of arguing about how bad your dad was or wasn't, maybe as children of... of abuse, you would be better off supporting each other."

The way he looks away on "abuse" reminds me of how he reacted when she said he had a learning disability. These are not things Tim likes to think about or face. But Lucy has never seen them as a branding on his life, merely parts of who he is.

She doesn't label him to ostracize him or set him apart. She tries to help him understand how these things exist within him, but don't define him.

And, oh, my little brother was such a pill growing up. Such a pill. But he was also the first person to ever say I didn't deserve the verbal and emotional abuse I received. He was only 13, but it meant the bloody world. I was 17, and I truly believed I got what I deserved. I wish I'd never lived through it, but I'm infinitely thankful for my brother so I didn't have to go through it alone.

"Ready to go?" "Yeah."

Lucy wordlessly gets out of the way of the siblings, but Tim can't take his eyes off of her, and Genny noticed.

Come on. She's his little sister. Much as he said he wasn't single and has somebody, she has already clocked that there's something between these two.

"Look, I'm really sorry about today. I should have listened more." "I agree. But thanks for saying it. It means a lot." "I'm still not going to see him."

Tim put up a boundary, and that's healthy. It's so hard to set boundaries, sometimes, and I really do applaud Tim that he set his. He owes his father nothing. And much as Genny doesn't agree with it, she needs to learn to respect it.

Sure, Tim could benefit from some therapy and really processing through his trauma. Genny's not wrong in that. But Tim's not going to go unless Tim is willing to go, and berating him is no way to get through to him.

"If you're free this weekend, maybe we could go by the place, see what needs to be done, and you can give us an estimate." "Did you just say 'we'? As in you're gonna help?" "I checked out some comps in the neighborhood. We could get a million for that place easy. Plus, it shouldn't all fall on you."

I think it's marvelous that before Lucy told him to be there for his sister, he was already looking at comps. He was already thinking about it.

Lucy, in this case, echoed the best parts of Tim. Sometimes she helps him find those better parts. But, he's learning, again, how to listen to them on his own.

That's so much progress for his character. And it's so beautiful to watch him blossom.

"Could I have everyone's attention, please? I would like to formally give my endorsement for Union Rep to a man who has the backs of every officer in this station, John Nolan."

Did. You. See. Lucy!? As Nolan moves through the crowd hand-shaking, Lucy cocks her head at Tim. Tim cocks his head back.

Because she's proud of him. He just did something he's never done, that he said he'd never do, because he knew it was the right thing. Smitty would run the whole thing into the ground.

Tim took action to help the entire station, and he's opening himself up just a little more to the people around him.

And Lucy is such a huge part of that. She always will be. But... that's a story for another Meta.

Breakdown

AKA "The One Where I Cry The Whole Time"

"Well, Nolan says an open-concept sells better-."

Excuse me... I gotta cut you off right there because... Lucy Chen is in your childhood house? Lucy Chen is helping you with Demo? Lucy Chen is here instead of the person you're dating?

Tim... and I say this with all love... what the hell? You invited your coworker to come help you with this and thought we'd, what, not notice!? Your sister must be standing there thinking, "My big brother is in denial!"

"Do you remember how Mom used to make us pose by the window for every formal dance?" "Oh my gosh, my Mom did that, too. And I always had to have a wrist corsage." "Yes! Why was that ever a thing?"

Tim. Are you seeing this, Tim? This is sister-in-law energy. Clearly, you need to throw that lifeguard chick back to the ocean because the woman you're going to marry is right here... And you're the one who invited her.

"No. No more reminiscing. This is about fixing up the house and selling it." "Wait. Wait. Wait. Hold on. I mean, you guys are ending a huge chapter in your lives. You guys need closure." *Tim turns on the tool* "What?" "I said you need closure." "What?" "You're an idiot."

Huge. Married. Energy. Like, my husband and I do stupid stuff like this. And Genny is right there.

Also, let's talk about how far Tim and Lucy have come. Yes, Lucy has always stood up to Tim when he needed it. But this is downright flirty. Like, this is Girlfriend talk, not Sergeant's Aide talk.

"You guys are so lucky. I begged my Mom and Dad to have a sibling. They got me a turtle. Uh, it was cute, but a little smelly." "Cute and smelly pretty much sums up Tim's teenage years. You didn't miss much." "Wow. And to think I was actually excited when they brought you home from the hospital."

I love how freely Tim speaks to his sister in front of Lucy. Think about Season 1 Tim. He would never. But the fortified walls that once separated them have all come down. Thin veils are all that remains.

"What is it?" "There's something in the wall." "Oh, is it my Malibu Barbie? It's worth a lot, now." "No, it's metal... What the hell is a gun doing in our wall?"

This isn't Chenford, but it's so important to the story, and it makes me think of the previous episode when Tim talked about his Dad breaking the plaster with Tim's head... Looks like good ole Dad did a lot of repairs, so as kids, Genny and Tim wouldn't have even thought it strange. It was part of the cycle of abuse.

"We need to run ballistics." *aggressive head nodding from Tim* "Wait, you don't actually think it was used in a crime?" "It's our job to find out."

Tim looks to Lucy on this one. It's not hard for him to imagine his father the villain. He is too distracted by this weapon to think of anything else. Because thinking of Dad brings back up all those things he's tried to shove down and not face.

"Look, we'll be back as soon as we can." "But it's your day off. You said you'd help." "It won't take long. Come on, Chen."

Tim's in work-mode. But let's not pretend he's completely objective. Some part of him needs to know where this gun came from... to know if the Monster who raised him is even more of a Monster. Could there finally be some punishment for all the horrible things he's done?

But Genny's frustrated. She doesn't understand this part of Tim, and she's frustrated because for the last 20 years, Dad has been her responsibility.

She's been the one dealing with his medical care, with moving him from facility to facility, with visiting him and trying to be a caring daughter, all while not even living in LA.

They're not communicating. And they can't see this from the same viewpoint because though they grew up in the same house, they have different childhoods.

You might think, "that's impossible", but it's true. Some parents play favorites. Some parents dole out all the abuse on one child. Some parents are negligent toward one child and not the other.

It's very possible to grow up in seemingly the same environment and have completely different experiences. That's Tim and Genny. But she's tired of carrying the burden, and he's blind to his emotions clouding his vision.

"I knew you'd find some excuse to leave." "Genny. This is serious." "It's fine. Go."

Tim takes the out, but Lucy can feel the tension, and she's trying to mediate between her husband and sister-in-law.

"She's got a point. You could have called someone to handle this. You still can." "A good Sergeant doesn't create work for his officers. Even on his day off." "And it's not at all about the emotions this house is stirring up?" "It's just a house."

Because even Tim Bradford "Supercop" has blind spots. We see it in 5x12 (and, yes, that's all I'm saying on it) and we see it here. There are times when Tim can't be objective—and I'm so thankful Lucy Chen is there to keep him in check today.

"Ballistics came back on the gun we found in the wall." "That was fast." "Yeah, I mean, I had to buy a case of Girl Scout cookies from Derek's kid. You're welcome."

Married. We've seen Tim pull strings for Lucy, before, getting calls sent to him to help her with her checklist, and whatnot. Now, we see Lucy spending her own money to help rush ballistics on the weapon.

There's no guarantee that rushing ballistics would have gotten them back to Genny sooner. No, this is about getting Tim the answers he needs as fast as possible.

"Monica is not a solid alibi. They were having an affair. My mom didn't know, but I did."

Tim was 14. Just a kid. But he was protecting his mom. We had a babysitter, once, who left us outside a bar while they went in and got drinks. We had another who had a physical altercation with her husband in front of us and yanked us out of bed, riding through the night until we found a safe place to crash.

I distracted my little brother so he didn't realize what was going on. I didn't tell my Mom. I knew she had such a hard time finding babysitters with her hours, and we didn't want to add to her burdens.

It sucks being a kid who has to think like an adult. And that was Tim.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're going to question your father's mistress? ... You can't be the one to question her. We need to do this right."

Tim's objectivity is skewed, here, and Lucy can see it. Also, can we talk about how many times Lucy uses "we" in this episode? The gun "we" found. "We" need to do this right. She's using an awful lot of inclusive language, which is better for getting through to Tim, but also really telling. Even on their day off, they're a unit.

"You do it."

Tim points to her in a "you're right" movement, then hands over the case file. And can we just talk about the trust that these two have built up over the years?

Tim was her TO and he came down hard on every little mistake she made. Now, he has full trust in her abilities, including handling the most personal case that's ever come their way.

Tim Watches. Lucy Looks Back.

She knows he's behind her, watching everything. He's separated from it by the glass, but still there. And when his father's mistress rises to leave, Lucy casts a glance back at him.

Lucy's smart enough to know he's headed for the hallway, and she know his objectivity is nonexistent.

"Tim?"

It's likely been 20 years since she saw him. He was just a kid the last time they saw one another. And since he's in plainclothes, she has no idea if he's here because of his family or because he's a cop.

And I think it's so heartbreaking and tragic that Tim would face one of the hardest cases of his career personally without wearing the security of his uniform. We know he always has his badge on him, but this is different.

For so long, Tim has used his identity as a cop as his center. He doesn't have that protection today. He's a man... once a boy... hurting.

"She's covering for him." "Maybe, but we can't prove it."

There's that inclusive language, again. Lucy is letting Tim know that she's on his side, that he isn't alone, that they're together on this. For so long, Tim has operated as a lone wolf. He blocks out help, even from those who care about him.

But Lucy's here to let him know that he isn't alone. And she can only hope her message is getting through.

"Oh, man. Never thought I'd see your face, again."

No "My boy". No "I missed you". In his opening greeting, we get a stark look at what kind of man this is. We've had Tim and Genny's perspectives, sure. But, now we get to see the man for ourselves.

"Wow. Liver really did a number on you, old man."

Tim's distancing himself. He's protecting himself by trying not to think of this man as his father. Sure, lots of people say, "My old man" but it's not the same as "Dad" or "Daddy" or even "Papa".

When I first met my father, I called him by his first name. It took a while before I was ready to call him "Daddy". There's something sacred about that name... something Tim never had in a father.

"You always seem to have someone looking after you, even when you don't deserve it."

Oh, Tim. Because if you look back at Tim's life, he never seems to think that he deserves it. His friends try to be there for him, and he shirks from it. He pulls back. He shifts away.

"Because I saw you two together when I was 13." "Oh, crap." "For some reason that I still don't understand, I lied to Mom. I lied for you."

Because... he's still your father. And I totally get this. I totally understand that part of you that loves the person who's abusing you. That part of you that wants what you don't have and you half-wish that you can make them the parent you need.

You'll do anything for them because you think maybe if you do enough, they'll actually love you. They'll actually want you. They'll stop hurting you. You can have that relationship you always wanted. It's that hope that hurts so horribly because it's never enough.

Tim has tears in his eyes. He's facing the monster to try to get to the truth, because some part of him needs the answer. And if his hunch is right, he can finally see his father face judgment for something.

"Poor little Tim-Tim. What are you bitching about? You kept your mouth shut. You did good. Now, get over it."

"Good"? GOOD!?! You fucking psychopath of a human being. No wonder Tim ran as far as he could.

But, oh, I get this, too. Watching them do something you know is wrong and them expecting you to cover for them. They expect it. And anything less is betrayal.

"And so what if I did?"

Tim's father takes out his oxygen and stands. Watch how Tim braces himself when he does. He's ready for the punch.

"Get back in bed." "Make me."

He's asking for a fight—to prove that his son is no different than he is. Inviting him to take the first swing, to prove that he's a "man" in his father's eyes. But Tim looks away.

Little Tim would never have punched back. And adult Tim wants to be nothing like the man before him.

His father misses the complexity of that moment. He sees only a victory.

"Yeah. That's what I thought."

This line hit me really hard, but not for the reasons you might think.

See, as much as we fight to distance ourselves from those people... they still raised us. We still have them in us. It's a choice every day to be a different person and write a better life.

And the phrasing here sounds like Tim. Tim has a tendency to use "Yeah" as a singular statement and follow it up with another. His father is a part of him.

But that doesn't define Tim. Because every day, Tim has made the decision to be a better man in spite of the one who raised him.

"I brought Monica Ochoa back in." "Why? Because I knew there was more to her story. You couldn't see past the version that you wanted to see." "What'd she say?"

Lucy has always had Tim's back. But I also love that all it took for Tim to listen to Lucy was for her to tell him he was wrong.

There have been times she has called him out (so many times) that he didn't want to hear it. But he and Lucy have come so far.

"You brought me a present." "Think of it more as a push."

Oooooh, the shade. There's a show called Resident Alien, and when the main guy met the main girl's awful mother, he left her with "Smoke more" as a farewell. Same vibe, here.

Tim is letting his father know that, no, he won't end him. But he's not afraid to escort him to the end.

"Monica confessed." "Leave her out of this." "Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close and you needed to frame someone else."

He's sticking to the facts, this time, instead of conjecture. He's looming over his father, this time, standing closer so he has to look down at him instead of across the room. It's different, this time.

"He was a brutal, abusive bastard. She deserves a medal for what she did." "He was an abusive bastard?" "What? You think I'm like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You're a man, now, because of me."

Toughen up, Rachel. Stop crying, Rachel. You're too soft, Rachel. You need a thicker skin, Rachel.

And somehow they can see it in someone else, but are blind to it in themselves. Because they have a justification for what they've done.

"I'm who I am in spite of you."

Yes. Tim. Bradford. Yes, you are. You looked at the Monster who tried to mold you to follow in his footsteps and said, "screw that". You chose to be your own man. You chose to end this horrible cycle of abuse. And now you get to say it to his face.

And the way his father has no response? It's perfect. Because you know some tiny morsel of what he said got through. Tim knows it, too. Look how he straightens a little... How now that he's said it aloud, he believes it himself.

"Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts."

It's the first time he's addressed his father by that name in the whole episode, and it's because he finally feels strong enough to say goodbye.

He'll never see that man, again, but this time he's said his piece and proved to himself that he the man he wants to be... not the Monster who raised him.

Tim walks out and closes the door. This is huge. Because last time he came here, he closed himself in with the Monster and he came alone. This time, he walked in and left the door open because he knew he had backup.

Tim knew Lucy was outside the door the entire time. She's had his back the entire episode, and this time when he came to face the man, he brought her with him. Some part of him knew he needed the support.

And this. is. huge. Tim Bradford takes care of his own problems. Tim Bradford doesn't ask for help. Right? No... Tim Bradford has isolated himself out of fear and trauma over and over and over, again. But today, he chose to let someone in—Lucy.

She heard all of that.

"You okay?" "No. He was protecting her. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress? Broke half a dozen laws for her." "They picked her up. She's being processed right now. I don't think the DA is gonna prosecute your dad on his deathbed." "It doesn't matter. He'll get judged soon enough."

This whole episode, a part of Tim was hoping to see his father's judgment, to see him punished for the Monster that he was. This line right here shows he's accepted that it's out of his hands. And that's the way it has to be. He's releasing it.

Tim's looking away from Lucy... looking at memories she can't see.

When he does look to her, it's purposeful. He needs to say something.

"The Tim Tests? Those don't make me like him."

The way Tim's voice breaks here kills me. Because he's saying it aloud hoping he'll believe it, that he truly is nothing like that man. And hoping that she'll affirm it... because he'll believe her more than he'll believe himself.

Ever since Lucy mentioned the Tim Tests in the Shop, he's been thinking about it. He's been terrified that he mis-stepped and misjudged and maybe he messed up somewhere along the line. He's tried so hard not to be that man. But Lucy's words caused him doubt.

Because he cares how she sees him. No, they're not in a romantic relationship, here. He's dating someone else, so that's off the table. But, even now, mid Season 4, this is one of the most important relationships of his life. It matters how Lucy sees him.

He can dismiss the thoughts and opinions of so many others. But Lucy's is one of the few that counts. And he can't bear the thought of her thinking him a Monster.

"I know."

The first in a long line of "I know"s from these two. But watch how Tim's jaw clenches after she says it. He wants to believe it so bad, but some part of him isn't sure.

"You're nothing like him.."

Watch how he shakes his head along with her. He wants so badly to believe her, to know that she's telling the truth and not just what he wants to hear. Tim braces, pulling away. He leans away from her.

"Come here."

She echoes his words from 4x01 and puts her arms around him. he goes easily. No hesitation. He leans down to her, pressing his face against hers.

In this moment, he doesn't have to stand strong. The last time they hugged, he was the supportive one, tall and strong for her. This time, he's the one who needs to melt, and Lucy gives him the safe space to do it.

Just outside his father's room. A door separating him from the Monster. But in Lucy Chen's arms, Tim is safe.

"You're nothing like him."

And maybe, maybe, some part of him actually believes it since it's coming from her. The hug lingers. It's pure comfort. And it's exactly what she needs.

FAST FORWARD: Fans of 5x12 (like myself) might have been wondering where Tim got the snap shirt... this is a snap shirt. In fact, it might be the snap shirt. Someone with sharper eyes with mine might want to take a look. But it totally looks like the same shirt to me! (EDIT: It has been confirmed to NOT be the shirt, but at least we know Tim has snap shirts in his wardrobe prior to 5x12).

Moving on...

"Here. Let me help." "I got it. I'm good at cleaning things up on my own." "I know you are. I'm sorry I haven't been here to help more. I'm sorry I haven't been a better big brother."

You must be sitting here thinking, "Uh, Rachel. The last Chenford scene happened... why are you still writing?" Well, Chenford is nothing without Lucy AND Tim.

And who they are doesn't stop when they're apart. To truly appreciate this ship, I feel I need to look at both pieces in total as independent, beautiful characters. The Ship is nothing without them.

Tim has been so wrapped up in his own hurt that he's missed the burdens Genny has carried alone, as a result. But Tim needed the breakthrough that this episode afforded him.

"You're not that bad. When you're around." "Well, all that changes now. I'm coming to visit you every holiday. I'm gonna be calling you at least twice a week. And I will handle fixing up this place and selling it."

This is healing. No, it doesn't remove the scars or their phantom sting. But Tim Bradford spent so much time running away from his past that he missed the fact that he was also running from Genny. His little sister. Who really needed him.

"You should go home. Be with your family." "You're my family, too."

He needed to hear that. He is so worried that he screwed this up too much, that she would be too angry to love her big brother, still. And in four words, she soothed that fear away. You're still my brother.

"How about this? We fix and sell this place together, and then we'll both be done with it. All of it." "Deal."

Letting this go together is exactly what they both needed. Genny passes the broom to him, letting him share in the burden. And Tim gets right to work.

"Whatever happened with that gun?"

Tim doesn't even know where to start... so he keeps sweeping.

The growth that Tim is afforded by this pair of episodes is so needed. When we first meet Tim in the Pilot, he's a broken mess of a human functioning because he can lose himself in his work. He doesn't have to be a man when he's a cop.

Season 4 Tim has come around a lot, but he needed this healing to help him on his journey. He needed to finally be free of his father, not because he ran away, but because he faced him and released him and his hold.

Tim's healing has to come before he can be in a healthy relationship with Lucy Chen.

Look, I know what it's like going into a relationship when you're still dealing with un-healed trauma. Matthew and I had it on both sides. Yes, we fought through together. But, narratively, wouldn't it have been nice if the Universe had let us heal, first, so we'd be better for each other from the get-go?

The Writers afforded Tim and Lucy that opportunity. Does that mean Tim's trauma will never come up again? No. Does that mean Lucy's problems with her parents are a long-gone memory? No.

But whenever these two find one another, they will be healed enough not to destroy the relationship with their pain. When their traumas inevitably pop up, they can face them together from a point of some healing rather than completely raw agony.

Raw was Tim Bradford when we first met him. He has come so far. And he's a better man for it. Not just for Lucy, but for himself. He deserves healing and to find true hope.

Not the false hope that an abusive person will magically change their ways and be the parent he needed... but hope in the form of friendship, family, and a future. A truly beautiful future.

As ever, thanks for reading. Y'all are amazing, and I truly appreciate every Like, Re-Blog, and Comment. Can't wait to see ya on the next!

[niuniente]

So I have just read your response about how to approach story telling, or at least how you do it specifically. And I just want to thank you for point eight, about 'It's not that deep - unless you wish it.'

I've always been ashamed that I made ocs but couldn't produce plot points for their personal stories. Like people talk about breaking their characters to make them develop, but I could never do that. Because I struggle so often, I didn't want my characters to. I just wanted my characters to live the life that I can't. But I also wanted to overcompensate because I felt like I wasn't doing them justice.

While it's not the popular opinion to have that be the way I approach creation, I do appreciate that you don't say it's a bad thing to not want things to be deep. So thank you, really.

You're welcomed!

I think the people who are very interested in character development typically either enjoy it tremendously or are (intentionally or unintentionally) using their art as a self-therapy. Both valid ways of doing art, as well as not being interested in character development or therapy art.

Sometimes the character development is and can be small and it's OK. People tend to call just finding new things about the character also a character development. Put them in new situations and see how they react and act.

Some characters are iconic for what they are and you don't even expect deep character development from them. Terminator is Terminator and you know with 100% certainty what to expect when you deal with Terminator - sure, he can be programmed differently for different needs but it's not exactly character development on its own if you ask me. Dracula is Dracula, Rambo is Rambo, Predator is Predator and Morticia Adams is Morticia Adams.

It's nothing unheard of that trying to develop the character because you should makes the character unrecognizable or OOC regarding what has been going on until now within the story.

In Nemesis the Warlock comic, the protagonist Nemesis is pictured as a good willed man, who does his best to resist racist humans and save other alien species. He doesn't really care about humans per se but is fine with a human being his right hand helper. His intentions are to save alien species from humans and bring peace to the universe. He's a liked friend and a loved husband and trying his best as a father.

This is about the half way of the series until creator(s) decide to develop Nemesis more. Turns out that Nemesis is actually just a bored demi-God who loves to play hide and seek with his human enemy. That he doesn't care about anyone or anything else but his own joy and boredom. He isn't interested in saving anyone and he literally manipulates his human friend, too, for his own benefit. This is explained as "Well, I'm just a chaos's being, deal with it, I never said I was good".

See what I mean? Go to far, try to force the development (and explain everything) and you can, without wanting it, break your character or the story - or both! If you make a character go a complete opposite of themselves, there has to be a reason for it. Not like in Nemesis "Well, I'm just like this". No, dude, you were literally the exact opposite for years and still just a second ago. What happened? Well, nothing, creator(s) just decided to add a shock value and develop the character because?????

You want your character to live the life you'd want? Wonderful, that's enough! That's how Sailor Moon was born and is all about. The creator was lonely, so she drew a comic of girls being friends, that kind of friends she wished she'd also have.

It's a valid reason to make a comic. Or anything! Nothing needs to be deep but it can be if wanted.

[equibabe]

Day Three of Queer Jane Week, Family

Family Photo Album

Nannasprite and John (pre-June) talk, Nannasprite reminisces.

This is just the beginning of the gender journey for John/June, hence the pronouns and names used. Expanding on my scrawlings. Wedding photo of Nanna and Mr Egbert that is also in this photo album.

Approximately 1776 words.

-

-

John Egbert exits his father's room. It had been a long time, since his birthday many years earlier. They had been on Earth C for more than three years now. It was a particularly hot day in the summer, and somehow John found himself in that previously mythologized place. With the curtains drawn, the heir laid on the floor, stretching out on the carpet. It wasn't that much cooler in here. Under the bed something glinted. John awkwardly contorted and squeezed himself under the bed and pulled out a a small, thin book.

It's a photo album, faded red with shiny gold details and lettering. In a lovely, curly font on the front, the book is titled: Family.

After looking through it a bit, John shuffles out of the room, faster than usual, and heads up the stairs. Entering his room, he finds hanging up by his desk a circular white pendant with a green spirograph embossed on it.

-

JOHN: hey, nanna?

NANNASPRITE: Hello, John!

JOHN: could you come to my house?

JOHN: i had a question about some stuff. about you.

NANNASPRITE: Oh? Well, I am flattered, but I don't know what you could want to know about me. Regardless, I'll be on my way!

-

Barely two minutes had passed before Nannasprite oozed through the kitchen door.

-

NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo! Hello?

JOHN: in here, nanna.

-

She floats, gently aglow like neon, into the slightly darkened living room. She flips on a light switch with her disembodied harlequin hand. Her ectobiological son, her grandson, sat on the far left side of the couch, a book in his lap. Red, with shimmering gold details. He looks tired, hair a bit long, most likely unshowered, sparse facial hair populating his features.

-

NANNASPRITE: You are sitting in the dark, dearie! It's not good for your eyes to read in the dark.

-

Nannasprite floats over in front of John. His fingers feel the corners of the photo album and he's looking at it. It's open to a familiar section.

-

JOHN: ...

NANNASPRITE: I am talking to myself?

JOHN: oh, sorry nanna!

JOHN: i found this today, in my dads room. it's pretty old looking.

NANNASPRITE: It is old, at least compared to a youngin' like you! I put this photo album together when I was pregnant with your father.

JOHN: when was that?

NANNASPRITE: I got the album itself Christmas of 1953, and I started to put it together right away.

JOHN: i hadn't finished going through it.

-

John flips through the pages to the end.

-

JOHN: i don't see any pictures of my dad in here.

NANNASPRITE: There aren't any in there, and I'm afraid many of your father's childhood pictures were lost when you were born and I died. I loved to keep pictures at work.

JOHN: oh, sorry about that, nanna.

NANNASPRITE: Hoo hoo! It's not your fault, love. And there still are some pictures, you should check his study.

NANNASPRITE: Was that all you wanted to ask me?

JOHN: well, I just wanted to know who the people in here are.

-

John flips to an early page of the album. Centred in the middle of the page is a photograph of two young children and a large dog.

-

JOHN: i can tell that's jade's grandpa. and that's your dog?

NANNASPRITE: Yes, that's Halley. He was a very good dog.

-

John flips forward several pages and a few decades.

-

JOHN: who's this?

-

Nannasprite settles onto the seat next to John, and John slides the album over. Nannasprite holds the right hand side, while John holds the left.

The photograph is unlabeled like all the rest, but Nannasprite remembers everything about it. It was 1936, Nanna was still Jane Crocker, and she is standing with her arm over the shoulder of a woman. The two were on a beach, a sandy hill with tufts of marsh grass rises behind them. Jane has her hair cut very short, no fluffiness or thickness to it. She's wearing an old style swimsuit, boxy striped shorts with a neat string strap top, conservative by today's standards. They were emerald green and white, Nannasprite remembered. She was holding her glasses in her free hand.

Her companion is also attired for swimming. She is wearing a one piece, covering the very top of her legs, with wider straps and a v shaped collar. She is wearing a round, white sunhat, and her wavy hair just brushes the top of her shoulders. It's mousy and if the photograph was in colour, it would be dark blonde. She's holding onto Jane's hand over her shoulder, while with her other hand she's pulling Jane closer to her around her hip.

-

JOHN: nanna?

NANNASPRITE: That is your father's aunt. The sister of his father.

JOHN: i didn't know i had a great-aunt. what's her name?

-

Nannasprite places a hand on the bottom of the page. It was so long ago.

-

NANNASPRITE: She didn't like her name. She said 'no looker was ever named Paula.' Of course, that's not true, but she insisted that we not call her that.

JOHN: great-aunt paula. well, it does sound like an old lady name. no offense, nanna.

NANNASPRITE: HOO HOO! John, I am old. And being a sprite, I'm only going to get older.

JOHN: what did you call her if you couldn't call her 'paula'?

-

She remembered that day the picture was taken, not the exact date, but the events of the day. They packed up early in the morning and hiked to the beach. It had been particularly hot the previous day, and they planned to take advantage of the heat and sunny weather. They took the Brownie with them, carefully wrapping the camera in an extra towel. They asked someone passing by to take a picture of them, and he obliged. After, they spent the day floating and splashing in the water. They had ice cream for lunch, and didn't get back home until the sun was close to setting. They were starved, but they were used to it. They opened all the windows to let the night air in as they ate biscuits, corned beef and pickles for dinner, close to nine o'clock at night.

Jane and Paula worked in clubs and on stage, Jane, as a comedian and performer, while Paula was a dancer and actress. They didn't often work together, instead they would watch each other. They shared a small apartment, a small kitchenette and living area, with common washrooms shared with other tenants of the building. That night they slept without any covers, just them in their nightclothes.

It wasn't until the fall that they had taken enough photographs to get the film developed with this photograph. They divided the photographs between the two of them, and this was one of the ones Jane got.

There were many more photographs, but most were with Paula, the lost flame of her youth. Some others had been lost, like those in the jokeshop when John arrived on his meteor, and Jane met her temporary end. Jane only displayed a couple of the photos she had, ones where the two of them appeared simply as dear acquaintances. But she wasn't called Paula...

-

NANNASPRITE: John, she was called John.

JOHN: what?

JOHNL wait, really??

NANNASPRITE: HOO HOO HOO! No, you silly goose. I got you! Hoo!

NANNASPRITE: ...

NANNASPRITE: She liked to be called January.

JOHN: like, the month?

NANNASPRITE: Yes, it was her birth month.

NANNASPRITE: It was also very unconventional. 'No looker' might've been called 'Paula', but there certainly were no lookers called January, because no one used that as a name.

JOHN: it is a bit strange.

NANNASPRITE: It was a lot more strange in the thirties.

JOHN: that's when this is from?

NANNASPRITE: Summer of '36.

-

Nannasprite took a last glance at the faces in the photograph and then tenderly turned the page.

-

NANNASPRITE: Now, in this picture....

-

-

John and Nannasprite spent the rest of the day visiting. It had been a while since the two of them had. From his doomed timeline, only he, Roxy, and Nannasprite remained. Now there were two, but the alpha timeline Nannasprite had lost her John many years before, and was closer with Jade because of it.

Nannasprite adds tantalizing hints about the past, about John's dad's dad, about Betty Crocker, about life all the way through the 1910s to 1990s. She wouldn't go into detail, changing the subject, throwing in some jokes, redirecting the conversation. She skirted around great-aunt Paula, January, the most.

She prepared a homecooked meal for John, schnitzel and casear salad, she had John help her make some simple apple muffins for breakfast.

It was a lovely day, it left John feeling recharged. That evening, he got out his razor and shaving cream, and trimmed down the hairs on his face and neck. After rinsing, he rubs his hands over his face, hands still catching

He settles into bed, window open to let the night breeze blow in. The unfamiliar stars of this new universe sparkle in the sky. His thoughts drift back to the pictures in the photo album. Pictures of Nanna as a child, a young woman, a marriage portrait with a man who looked very similar to his dad. And those couple of photographs of his previously unknown great-aunt. January.

John imagines that It must have been even more unusual back then to use 'January' are a personal name. In modern times there were people with months as names, but only a few.

January sounds like a huge mouthful, John thought. Something with one syllable might flow easier. There weren't many single syllable months though, in English at least.

March, sounds a bit rough. May, probably the most common name, nice, but not for me.

John's looks out the window, the glow of distant city lights present on the horizon.

That only leaves...

"June." John breathes silently. It's a little bit old fashioned, but it's certainly not over used. Not a mouthful like 'January'

Nannasprite floats unseen in the open bedroom doorway. She gently runs her hand over the scruffy hair of her grandchild. She smiles, giving a gentle pat on the arm. Something was bothering her grandchild more than usual, but she would be ready to talk when John was ready. She hangs the sprite pendant from a peg near the desk, and silently floats out and down the stairs, waiting until morning to spend more time with her ectobiological child, her grandchild.

That night, in her own mind at least, Jane would spend some time with January. The jokes, the antics, the dancing, the holding, the loving, quietly, the two of them.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #100

This will be my 100th generic letter to you. Imagine that! Assuming you can hear me somehow, we've been on a very unorthodox journey for a while now, no? How marvelous!

I spent some of today checking on my epoxy spheres. It needed a few small adjustments. I made another mess. But I'm feeling pretty good about how these are gonna turn out, and I'm looking forward to showing the finished spheres to you very soon!

I spent the bulk of today writing up descriptions for various items, though. I'm pretty excited about it, actually! But I can't tell you what it's for; sorry about that. With any luck though, my intentions will become clear in maybe a decade or so, assuming I can maintain my focus and my faith in my own efficacy. I suppose we'll see.

Along the way, I made myself a couple mugs of jasmine green tea! I was surprised, though, to find that we were out of milk. I improvised with whipped cream for the first cup, and ice cream for the second cup!! And I gotta say, these were THE BEST improvisations!! 11/10 stars, absolutely would recommend! I'll show you a couple pictures!!

At 4pm today I went for my orthodontics consult. I went to go see an orthodontist because I've got some weird jaw issues on my right side because of the way I gotta move my face when I try to chew things. And also, my dentists have been bugging me about getting orthodontics done for the last couple years, because there are certain teeth in my face that can't be cleaned properly because they got confused and wandered off, presumably to chase butterflies.

I was hoping that I'd be able to get away with using Invisalign to avoid needing to get teeth removed, but… well… the fact of the matter is that I simply do not have enough jaw to work with, and I am WELL beyond the age when things like palate expanders would work. So 4 of my teeth need to come out in order for the inside of my face to be aligned properly.

…And this really fucking sucks, because if my parents had given even a fraction of a genuine shit about me, this ALL could have been prevented. My jaw could have developed properly with upper and lower expanders. I could have avoided the crowding and the overbite and the crossbite and the resulting damage to my jaw joint if this had been taken care of like it should have been when I was a little girl. But, no. Instead, my parents were too busy being in denial about the fact that they wish I was not born. So here we are.

The reality that is, "because of my parents' negligence, I now have to get body parts removed and pay lots and lots of money because insurance doesn't cover it past a certain age" is just… fucken… it's WILD, man. Admittedly, I'm struggling with it. And I'm struggling with the resulting VERY angry thoughts. But that's okay. I can feel angry. It's allowed. And thoughts are just thoughts - passing noise that is not reflective of who I am or who I wanna be:

…I can make use of my coping skills. The technique outlined in the video above is one of them, and I make ample use of it on a near-constant basis.

Admittedly, I don't really understand why we can't just use the Invisaligns to scooch my molars back to where my wisdom teeth used to be (I thought being able to move teeth backwards was the ENTIRE FUCKING POINT, but I could be mistaken, so whatever). But I forgot to ask. I'll call them up tomorrow and find out.

Anyway. Wanna see my skull? And my weird-ass teeth? Of course you do. Why not. But I'll put it all the way at the end, after the part where I put my name, just in case you don't. Hahaha…

…Ya know… Sephiroth… admittedly… some days I get real tired of this meat-mech I'm piloting. I've got a host of rather unpleasant genetic issues. The defective collagen thing sucks; it impacts literally my whole body. The misshapen skull thing sucks. The misshapen eyeballs and misshapen lenses thing sucks. There are other things - lots of them; it'd be a long list if I wrote 'em all out. I'm really not gonna be sad when the one I've got can't clunk around derpily anymore. But I'm not gonna rush the process, either; I've got shit to do - I've gotta make sure someone I love is safe, even if it might take me a long time to get it done.

But ya know. Maybe when it's time to go get a new meat-mech, maybe by some small miracle, I'll get to visit you for a bit until it's time for me to cycle into something new! Tell you what - if that happens, I'll bring you some matcha ice cream or something, okay?

For now… I'm gonna get back to writing up lists and descriptions of items; if you're not gonna make sure you're safe, then someone's gotta, and if someone's gotta, then I might as well, right? I mean… what else am I gonna do while running around confusedly in a capitalistic hellscape on a dying planet? Aside from eat cheese directly from the refrigerator like a weird little goblin, anyway…

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

P.S. Weird pics of my skull and teeth below, if you wanna see!

[sweets-fanfics]

Hogwarts Legacy fanfic fans look here!!

here is another link to my Hogwarts Legacy story! I've been working on this story for almost a whole year now! I will Link the Wattpad and ao3 link! It also has two other books all on Watt. Before you say, "Why would I click on a random link?" Here is a little sneak peek at the very first chapter.

Links and a sneak peek of the first chapter are under the break :)

_________

            Third person pov

Newt groaned as he read the text again. "That's very inconvenient." He mumbled. Tina looked up from her reading.

"You find it?" She could tell from his tone it wasn't good news.

"The relic we need was destroyed almost 40 years ago."

"You mean there are no other moonstones?"

Newt needed the moonstone for the group of mooncalfs he had just been given to foster after they were found during a poacher raid by the ministry. He could tell they were traumatized and thought the moonstone would help. But it said the stone was accidentally destroyed by students around 1890.

"Well, what should we do?" Tina asked softly.

Newt picked up a nearby notebook and flipped through its pages quickly. "Actually. I know someone who attended the school around that time.. maybe she can help us..."

Tina closed her book and went to grab her coat. Newt looked up confused. "Where are you going?"

"We are going to see your friend?" She asked wondering why he was confused.

Newt smirked at her eagerness, "she's a very private and not very trusting person anymore. She may not help us."

"What's her name?" Tina asked still continuing to get ready.

"Ava La Fey."

"She's French?"

Scamander chuckled. "Partially, her parents were born in France but she was born in New York. She was accepted into Hogwarts when she was 15. Had to start as a fifth year. She's an extremely powerful witch. Last I saw her though she claimed she no longer wanted to use magic. Something really traumatized her."

Newt had found it strange when he met a girl wearing a Hufflepuff robe and an American accent. When he met her she had just practically fallen out of the sky and landed in front of him as he walked through Hogwarts one day to visit Dumbledore. 

"Who would be so traumatized to give up magic at 50 years old?" Tina asked making Newt realize Tina was picturing an old woman and not the now 17-year-old who he was talking about.

"Oh, Tina she isn't old."

Tina looked at him confused. "What?"

_____________

I sat up quickly in bed panting. I fumbled around the bedside table for my wand and my clock. "Lumos" I whispered making the tip of my wand glow so I could see the time clearly. My eyesight had gotten worse after I took a blow to the face while having that final battle with Ranrok. The scar above my left eye always seemed a be sore even almost two years later.

I start to put down the clock and wand when I hear the floorboards in the other half of my small apartment creek. I stop moving and start to hear muffled voices. "What the hell?" I whisper softly.

I quietly get out of bed careful to not step on the parts of the floor that I know creek. Luckily I had left my door already slightly ajar the evening before so I wouldn't have to twist the handle that groans every time I do.

As I peek through the crack in the door I see two bodies seeming to be looking around.

No way any poachers or ashwinders would have found me after all this time.

I took a deep breath and threw open the door pointing my wand at the two bodies who spun around pulling out their wands and pointing. "Lumos!" I yelled quickly so I could see their faces. The last person I ever expected to see.

"Newt?"

"Oh Ava, good. I had the right address."

"No," I stated as I turned on a few of the lamps in the room with my wand.

"N-no?" He asked confused.

"Whatever it is, I'm not helping I don't do magic anymore." Newt kinda chuckled at the fact that I used my wand to start boiling water. "I'll make you and your friend some tea and you can leave after."

"We need a moonstone," Tina spoke up.

"Oh you aren't British... do you want... coffee?"

"Oh no you don't have to. Tea is fine."

Newt shook his head, "A moonstone, Ava, I know you know how to get one."

I sighed, "I used it once and I gave it to someone special but I don't talk to him anymore. I mean, obviously." I gestured to everything around me. "I can't even guarantee I could go back."

"But you can try. I know your magic. I read about you when I went to Hogwarts. How you saved the school from Ranrok. If that ancient magic brought you here there's a chance it can go back." As he spoke the kettle started whistling and I walked over and poured the water into two tea cups and put tea bags into the water.

I stayed quiet as I put the tray with the tea on a coffee table and gestured for them to sit on my old ripped-up green couch I had gotten for half price. "I don't think I can go there Newt after Professor Fig passed and ... you know... I didn't want to be there."

"You won't see Sebastian though. You and your friend told your headmaster what he did I thought."

"Well, I think Ominis did. But I didn't stick around long enough to find out if anything happened. Besides..." I looked away as my face turned red, "I gave him the moonstone."

"You're joking." Newt sighed.

"I didn't need it anymore and I thought he'd find it cool."

Something in the female's face clicked, "oh was he your boyfriend?"

I could feel my face getting hotter, "no! Of course not why would you even- who even are you? Newt who is this?" I felt the urge to take back her tea.

"Terribly sorry this is Tina. She's an auror in America. You've had dinner at her house before." Oops. Newt took a sip of the tea and put his cup down. "Please, Ava. This will be the last time I ever ask you for anything."

I let out a long sigh. "Fine." Newt tried to find his excitement. "Is she coming? You better talk her through what's about to happen while I get dressed."

"Oh yes," he turned and began to explain everything while I walked back into my room and shut the door.

I opened the doors of the oak wardrobe and looked for an outfit I could put on. I knew none of my muggle clothes would be extremely helpful so I shut the doors and slowly turned around and looked at the old trunk sitting in the corner. I walked over slowly and lifted the lid.

A layer of dust puffed up as the lid lifted. Inside was my old uniform I arrived in and a few of my old outfits. I wasn't sure if any of this would even fit. The first thing I pulled out was my verdant hat. The yellow ribbon Poppy had tied around the base was still there with the edges of the bow and point of the hat still singed from when Sebastian taught me another fire spell.

The grey outfit I'd wear on every adventure was the next thing I pulled out. "I guess this will do." I pulled everything on and as I was lacing up my brown leather boots there was a knock at the door. "I'm decent, come in."

Newt opens the door. "She's ready."  He then holds up a niffler. "Also is this one of yours or one of mine. I caught him going for my watch."

The chocolate brown niffler gave me a tiny wave.

"Mine I'm sorry." I picked him up from his hands and walked over to my suitcase.

"You have one too?" Tina asked from behind Newt.

"I made his. That's why there are only two, mine and his." I lifted the lid and dropped the niffler in before closing it. "A friend of mine from Hogwarts got me into rescuing magical creatures from poachers." I locked the suitcase and took one more look in the mirror as I lifted my hat and put it on my head.

The outfit sort of fit still. I had filled out more since I'm 17 and no longer a 15-year-old fifth year. I may have gotten a tiny bit plumper as well, but, curves have never hurt anyone.

"Alright, I'm ready." I picked up the suitcase and walked back into the living room.

"Where do we need to go?" Newt asked.

"Go?" I walked to another door and opened it.

The two peaked inside and all that was in there was an old archway like the ones from my trials from the keepers.

"How did you get this in here?" Newt asked.

"I was using this as a pantry but one day I woke up and it was just in here. It's ancient magic I'm not sure still how it works even if I can use it."

"So you could have gone back to your original time this whole time?"

"I mean, maybe. I'm not sure. I haven't tried seeing as I was hiding."

"Oh yes, my bad."

I could already see the glowing specks around the base of the archway. "Alright, I'm going to try to do something but the blast from it sometimes knocks people back."

The two instantly stepped back as I lifted my wand and  I let the ancient magic shoot from the wand and activate the archway. The blast did indeed shoot out almost knocking me over as well but soon a portal appeared.

The three of us all peeked in, "Where is that? Hogwarts?"

"The undercroft," I said almost too excited. "Merlin I hope this is the right year."

As Newt turned to ask what I meant by that I pushed them through first before I stepped in after and before I could change my mind.

As we all stepped in I turned around just to see the portal shut. "Oops.." I mumbled.

"Well, how is that going to help us," Tina asked also watching it dissipate.

"I can probably find another way for you guys. But first, let's get your damn moonstone." I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

I was really nervous. And I don't like getting nervous. I stopped at the gate to leave and held my breath. Was I really ready to go back? I mean, i really didn't have a choice now that the portal closed but still.

"It'll be okay." I heard Newt say somewhere behind me. "You are the Hogwarts savior if. I remember correctly."

I nodded and puffed out my chest as I walked out and the other two followed.

_____________

Looks good right!?!?! :D You should read it! Not all chapters are on Ao3 yet but I am working on transferring them over.

[yours-psyche]

// tw: disordered eating, body horror, graphic imagery

Three summers now in this town, I've yearned for different boys. I've lost my mind so many times, the walls echo the catches of my throat. I hate the mirror. I pray it's broken, distorted, so that what I see in it is not true. I've never thought myself worth looking at. The hands on my body thus far have felt like charity, like lust, despite the vessel that holds me. Despite the sags of my stomach and sides or the roughness of my skin, the pooling swells of my arms. Like clay that hasn't quite dried up. I wish the kiln would break me, burn me alive so that I may start over.

I've starved myself, but it wasn't enough. I'm doing better now; I feed myself meat and fruit and pastries. I feed myself pretty thoughts, so that pretty might take root in my stomach; I love my body. I wouldn't ban all that reflected. I wouldn't skin a skinny girl alive, pluck the nerves off her limbs one by one and step into her flesh, if only for a day, just so that I would know what it felt like. I don't look at the pictures in which I took up half of what I do now and want to carve into myself with a steak knife, cut off all the excess, bleed to death but bleed prettily, delicately, like a bunny, not a cow. I will die, so let me die like something worth looking at, a small thing, a poor thing worth pitying.

I will die someday. I will die a million things. I will die a daughter, a wife, a mother, maybe; I will die a musician, a poet, a dreamer. But it is not enough. I will never die beautiful. I will never die a pretty girl, and it has long since killed me. I will never understand, but I will never leave it behind me. I'm the artist and never the muse. I'm the writer and never the poem. I will never turn heads, I will never cause sighs; the men will always walk past and the women will never be envious. I am more than skin in fabrics, but they strangle me all the same, the way they never sit right, too tight, always too tight. The dress on the very last hanger, in the darkest corner of the rack, hiding from the world even in its lack of consciousness. The pants that fit my hips but not my waist because they weren't made with me in mind, because these hips weren't supposed to exist. Because a body like mine doesn't look right in the frame. This world wasn't made with me in mind, and it reminds me every day.

Its messenger, an angel of death; that picture of me in the coral red dress, in the dressing room. Bright red, striking against the background, like a warning sign, like a venomous flower. It was on sale, and it fit. The mesh panels sat on my waist just right, my breasts fit the too-small cups. My jaw didnt droop in the corners. I was sharp at the shoulders, easy on the eyes. Delicate, at last. Frail, a sweet girl not meant to stand in the sun too long. Sickly, just a little, just enough! Dizzy, so I may rest on someone's arm, fit into someone's kind embrace. I loved it. It looked foreign, it looked like someone else, it looked good on me. It was easy, like a game; one meal less, one more day in the sun, one day where they'd all feel sorry. Under all the fat, pulled like a curtain, were bones, pretty ones. All along, within me, a pretty girl was hiding. I was beautiful, I knew I could do it- I knew you, all of you, were wrong. It was right there, in the picture.

And then in a flash, it was gone. I got weak, scared, and the pretty girl hid under layers and layers again. A prison it is, this body, this game. A cycle I will never break. No amount of progress, of sets or reps, no claims of health will fix it. I dream of her. I want her back. I know- I just learned to eat breakfast, and I just started to sleep right, and my mom just stopped worrying. But sharp as a blade, sweet as death, she haunts me, comes to me in mirrors. Whispers in my ear that she's just dying to be born anew, bloom from my blood and innards like Aphrodite from the seafoam. A ghost, a temptress. Heaven's door and guardkeep.

A siren I don't know how much longer I can resist.

[marmorafarms]

SFW Alex HC!

I'm in my Alex era tbh so here are some head canons about him! These are all sfw, so if you were hoping for sexy things this is not the post you're looking for. Perhaps I will do a nsfw one idk

All the "arrogant" talk he does is actually positive self-talk born from his dad constantly getting drunk and telling him how worthless he is.

He used to practice daily affirmations in the mirror

Alex got into college on a full-ride scholarship for Gridball.

Alex dropped out of college bc he was embarrassed about how difficult it was for him to read and focus on school.

The farmer brings up that the disability center at colleges can help with taking notes and such for people who need it. Alex is considering going back.

Alex is dyslexic, which is why reading is difficult. He gave up reading altogether but plans to start trying again.

The farmer introduced him to "books on tape" and podcasts. Alex is now obsessed.

He is a very doting father, very much wanting to be what his father was not.

Comforts Kent when Kent feels low about being a "bad dad." He tells him that at least Kent is trying and that counts for a lot.

He is actually pretty good at puzzles, and loves Zelda games.

Surprisingly, he doesn't like fantasy gridball or gridball video games. He thinks the real thing is way more fun and prefers to play things that show him a new world.

He's terrified to come out to George. George is grumpy about it, but Alex is very happy that his grandpa eventually comes around.

Keeps pictures of his mom in his room.

His mom was cremated. He scattered most of her ashes in the ocean, her favorite place. However, he has a small urn with some of her ashes in it, as do Evelyn and George.

And that's all I have for right now! I hope you enjoyed reading it!

[thotsforvillainrights]

You know what *regress into my love for shigaraki*

I want some shigaraki dad fluff!

(*regresses into my love for Shigaraki as well*)

~Dad!Shig~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

There was something very magical about the morning time in your little home. Especially on mornings like this when the sun beams through the thin curtains and warms your exposed shoulders. You can both hear the sound of the birds right outside your window singing their song quickly interrupted by a loud thump through the walls. Tomura groaned and rolled over to face you, his eyes still harboring that much unwelcomed morning crust in the corners. No match for your morning breath though...

"It's your turn." He grumbled out. "No way, it's not!" You whisper-shout at him. "Tomura it's your turn because last time I took over two times in a row when you had to take that work trip. Get your ass up and-" Suddenly the both of you were interrupted when the sound of your bedroom door creaking open came to your attention. Tiny padded footsteps sounded across the carpet and you felt a yank on the blanket near your side of the bed. You look down and smile at the sleepy scarlet eyes below. "I'm hungry." She whines quietly. You quickly look over at Shigaraki and he's already getting out of beat defeated. You smirk at him and he flips you off before scooping up the small one standing beside you and heading into the kitchen. While you enjoy your extra hour of sleep, he's on breakfast duty today.

This is something you two have done since the day Hana was born/adopted. Splitting responsibilities (though sometimes stubborn about it) was something he had no qualms in doing with you. Parenting was still a strange experience for someone like him but small moments like the one he was having really made him feel like he was always cut out for it somewhere deep inside.

"Papa why do frogs lay eggs?" Hana begins her morning routine of questioning everything while Tomura collects some eggs from the fridge. She was naturally a curious child but his friends were making it worse. "Who taught you that?" He asks quietly as he gets his favorite pan from the cabinet. "Uncle Sako. He says frogs have egg babies that swim with no legs in the water." Tomura chuckled and looked back at her. "Oh yeah? That's right. Frogs have eggs that turn into tadpoles"

"Tadpoles?"

"Frog babies." He confirms before cracking a single egg in the pan and beginning to season it lightly. "Papa, was I a tadpole one day and now I'm all big and grown up? What about aunt Maggie and Toga?" She tilts her head. "Magne, no. I'd question that, but Toga? Yeah I'm sure she was a tadpole at some point. And anyway kid, you were never a tadpole. We've got pictures of you as a baby to prove it." The silence only lasts a few seconds before she moves on to the next subject of interest. "Why does big brother Dabi not like fish?" She askes. Tomura shakes his head and chuckles. "Because he just doesn't..." He plates her scrambled eggs and placed them on the table in front of her. "Why do you not like broccoli?" He asks as he hands her the silicone utensils. "Hmmm...Because I just don't!" He smiled and placed his hand on her head.

The two of them enjoyed a little daddy daughter time at the breakfast table before you entered and stole the peace by mentioning an impromptu trip to the zoo later today. Over Hana's excited scream Tomura could just barely make out your quiet apologies. Next time you'd be on breakfast duty and hopefully you know just enough about tadpoles to keep the conversation going.