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@fallenfromtheskies
trying to groom her brother | source

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he seems to be doing a pretty good job tbh
theist accelerationism: the world needs to get as bad as possible as fast as possible so God is forced to intervene
atheist accelerationism: the world needs to get as bad as possible as fast as possible in order to trigger a collapse of the current economic and socio-political structure
agnostic accelerationism: nobody knows why the world needs to get as bad as possible as fast as possible
"Mr Harrington will be with you in a minute."
When Annie's mom told her that a friend of a friend from work heard that Richard Harrington was looking for a babysitter, she was expecting to jump through a hoop or two.
Richard Harrington was kinda notorious for living up to his shortened name, but Annie was prepared. She had experience.
"Mr Harrington had to take a call from a client," His pretty blonde secretary says. "He's a very busy man even on days he's not in office. You understand."
"Of course," Annie smiles. "No worries."
She's eighty percent sure this is some kind of power play but no worries.
Annie's been babysitting since she was eleven. She's CPR certified, a former camp counselor, and currently taking childhood development at school. She has a perfect driving record, plans to be a teacher, and most importantly. She knows how to deal with difficult parents so.
No worries.
"You can take a seat in the living room."
Annie nods.
She rolls her eyes when the secretary walks away. Privately, she thinks this is a lot of work for a babysitting gig.
She has to submit a resume just to get an interview. For a babysitting job.
Annie is about to walk into the living room when she hears a rustling by the stairs. She turns to see a plush blue monkey stick his head around the banister and look around before disappearing back into its hiding spot.
"Hmm," She hums aloud, making sure her shoes click on the floor as she approaches the staircase. "What am I possibly going to do while I wait here all by my lonesome? Oh, how I wish there was a monkey or two to keep me company."
The monkey sticks his head out again, disappears, comes back, and then a little hand appears to stick the monkey's paw out to her. Annie shakes the paw, "Hi, Mr Monkey. Can I sit with you and your friend?"
The little hand drops the paw to make the monkey nod.
"Thank you, Mr Monkey," She says as she rounds the banister to see the Harringtons' three year old son crouched on the second to last step. "And a big hello to you, too. Iβm Annie."
He blinks his big eyes at her, clutching his monkey to his chest before hiding in its fur. He's shy - she can tell - and a little wary but that's okay, "What's your name?"
She doesn't get an answer.
"I like your pajamas," She tells him as she sits down. There are baby zoo animals on the pastel green fabric. "You must really like monkeys."
He nods.
"You know, I saw a monkey once," She tells him. "I went to the zoo and I saw an orangutan. That's a big orange monkey that walks around like a little old man. It was so cool."
"My favorite animal is a dolphin," She continues when she doesn't get much of a reaction. "Have you ever seen a dolphin?"
He shakes his head and she reaches for her folder with her resume, references, and two letters of recommendation. She opens it and shows him the sticker on the inside sleeve, "This is a dolphin."
Annie has babysat three year olds before. They are not nearly this subdue. They're all little wrecking balls rather they're trying to be or not so...
She peels the sticker off and holds it out to him, "Will you keep this for me?"
Steve's eyes go wide.
A smile breaks out over his face and he buries it in his monkey before sticking the sticker onto his shirt.
He beams.
Annie smiles too. She smiles wider when she hears a small, "I's 'teve."
He sticks his little hand out to her.
"Hi, Steve," She says, engulfing his hand in a shake. "It's so nice to meet you."
He opens his mouth to say something else but closes it when they hear, "Anneliese, I'm ready to start-"
"Right here, sir," Annie pops up before he turns into the living room. She gives Steve a salute when she jokes, "Just meeting the boss."
"I would be your boss," Richard frowns. Great first impression, Annie. Way to go. "Steven, you're supposed to be taking a nap. Go to your room."
Steve slumps. He pouts. He makes a whiny noise in the back of his throat and looks expectantly at his father.
"Stop whining and use your words, Steven. You know how to talk," Richard says like he's talking to a moody teenager. He shakes his head and tells Annie off-handedly, "Speech regression. Apparently no cause for concern according to his doctor."
"That's something you'd need to work on with him," He adds. "You're taking a parenting class, right?"
"I - childhood development and family planning, sir," She says. "At the high school."
"Right," He sighs. "Let's start your interview in my office. Its right-"
"No!" Steve snaps, catching them both off guard by the force behind the word and the way he throws himself into Annie. He clings to her tight, "Mine."
"Oh my god," Richard swears, turning and yelling, "Angela, come take your son to-"
"I can lay him down for a nap," Annie cuts in. She knows that initiative and demonstration are the best ways to impress a man like Mr Harrington.
She smiles, "Trail by fire? If I get him to sleep, you give me the job and if I fail, well. I won't. Iβm good at this."
Richard considers it.
She can already tell she's won him over before he says, "This is your only chance."
"Of course," She smiles. "No worries."
when i think about how in love eric chapman is with antigone funn it actually makes me SICK like what if. what if you are the tallest person in the village and you are difficult and grumpy and have been alone for most of your life and live in your mortuary and sleep in a coffin and your skin is translucent and people for years aren't even sure you even quite existed. but this man this perfect man this perfect gorgeous popular golden sunshine man sees you and he likes your chocolates and he admires your scented embalming fluid and he respects your work so deeply and he actually he LOVES you! and he's loved you all along! and he's hiding bodies for you and digging up graves with you and sharing his darkest fears with you because he LOVES YOU! YOU, the tall awkward gangly isolated girl! and by the time you realise this you don't even need his love anymore because you've found yourself in the spotlight and been in a naked calendar and pushed yourself and accepted yourself and now he's on his hands and knees begging for you and you KNOW how much you're worth and exactly how well he has to treat you! and he agrees and he'll do anything for you because he LOVES YOU!!! throwing up
the rival morticians who are soo obsessed with each other and need to get a room. or a coffin

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(WARM)
no. 2 of podcast characters dressing up for halloween
CHAPTIGONE!!!! They're dressed as frankenstein's monster and his bride and they (mostly antigone) look incredible doing it. Funnily enough this is my first chaptigone drawing
IT'S BEEN ONE OF THOSE WEEKS PASS THE DETRITUS
Part 1
ππ¦πͺ²ππππ¦πͺ²ππ
Steve's hands are relaxed on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. Eddie smokes a cigarette down to the filter, flicks the butt out the window, lights another.
They don't speak.
The only sound is Eddie's smoking, the Springsteen tape in the deck.
It's night, but Eddie's wearing sunglasses, wore them even as he stepped off the plane. Ray-Bans with black lenses that make seeing his eyes impossible. Steve wonders, not for the first time, if he's high, but he shakes the thought away, knows it's unfair.
He glances away from the road, studies Eddie's profile. He's wearing a black t-shirt, leather jacket. His hair's pulled up, so that the scars on his neck are just visible. The same ones Steve shares.
"What?" Eddie asks.
"Nothing." Before Steve's eyes can land back on the road--before he can remember Eddie's wearing sleeves and the streetlights are struggling in their battle agains the night--they drop to the insides of his arms and the track marks he knows will be there.
Hot shame rushes up from his stomach, and he averts his gaze, but he knows it's too late.
Eddie smiles, too big. "You can say it, if you want."
"Say what?"
"Don't play dumb, Harrington. It's beneath you."
"I seriously don't know what you mean."
"Sure, fine," Eddie scoffs. "Bet it's killing you not to know if I shot up in the bathroom back there."
And he doesn't know what to say because he had wondered. He's going about this all wrong, has from the very beginning when Dustin begged him to pick Eddie up at the airport, to bring him home after rehab. He's not the kind of caring, nonjudgemental guy who should be doing this. He's mean and sharp and cruel even on his best days and this is not one of his best days.
They fall back into silence, uncomfortable now.

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All of the Beatles dying in a glue trap
hail, mary, full of grace
pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death
I technically donβt have time for this. BUT guess what, I did it anyway.
I also added a few tattoos to Eddie because I imagined this was at the start of the 90s ;) it was fun trying to think of something he would get in this context. So there is a devil holding The nail bat and on his calf the text from the ring in lotr. And also a small sword that was supposed to be Narsil (also lotr), but I got lazy.
Anyway, enjoy!!
Wuhluhwuh

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1 brain cell