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“Don’t want to be an American idiot!” She gets over the fence with her headphones blaring. 

“Don’t want a nation under the new media!” She hums along as she makes sure her long brown hair is clear. 

She mutters to herself as she walks out of the alley and down the street. “And can you hear the sound of hysteria…the subliminal mind-fuck America…” 

Meep keeps the sun out of her eyes while walking down the street. The ‘walk’ to and from school is a bit better with tasteful music. Her black hoodie isn’t quite what one would say fits the weather, and it looks a bit worn, but it’s comfy damnit. She idly looks around at her neighborhood. Neighborhood Te-Reach is an odd name but it’s a nice place. 

Once she gets to her house she yawns and gets the key out to let herself in, “Mom! I’m back!” There’s no response. She rolls her eyes, probably working on another one of her projects again. 

As she sets her backpack aside and gets her shoes off, Mr. G pops in from the kitchen, “Hey Meep, welcome back. Your Mom’s in her studio. Want something to eat?” He offers a plate. “Thanks…I’m good though. I’m going to go upstairs and do some…homework.” “You sure? Fresh off the stove.” “Maybe later…thanks Gary.” She goes upstairs, ignoring the plate of food and that bearded smile. 

She shakes her head and mutters under her breath, “Why does he have to be so hot?” She sighs as she opens her bedroom door and slips inside. “Be easier to deal with him if he was less…” She blushes as she thinks about that…fucking lumberjack body he has. Going through puberty with a stepdad like that is bullshit. She claps her cheeks and shakes her head clear, “Happy thoughts…happy thoughts.” 

 She gets into her chair and pulls up her tablet. She might not be half the artist her mom is but…there’s a certain satisfaction to writing out stories. Now that she’s a…legal adult there’s no shame in the fact that she likes to write smut either. Well, long as the family doesn’t find out. She taps her stylus against her lips as she starts to think what Mr. G might do if she found out what she wrote…no, no, no. She nibbles at the end cap in annoyance. It’s not time for that kind of story. She reaches over to her computer to get it booted and check out the comments of her Ao3. There might be some good ideas in there…something to get the gears going. She gets her playlist started again. She starts to hum along with the beat again, “Under pressure, da da da da da da…”  

Gary sighs and sets the plate back down on the table. Ten years of happy marriage to her mother and the girl only seems to get more obstinate by the year. He lets the mood hold for a few seconds before he starts to smile with that glorious beard of his. It’s fine, she’ll call him dad again one day. For now…time to go do some squats while prepping dinner.  

Mrs. T hums along to the music, her bob cut bobbing, as she looks between her project and the references. Her studio’s somewhat small and there’s no windows but it helps her focus. That and it helps her keep Gary and Meep in the dark about…what it is in particular that she’s drawing. Well, them and the neighbors. The thought of what would happen if everyone knew she was financing her half of the family’s budget with porn is something that makes her blush and woozy at the same time. 

The rainbows make her shudder as she considers it for the tenth time today. The current piece of a soccer mom getting gangbanged by a coach and some soccer dads definitely isn’t helping. She shakes her head. Focus time. This is for her daughter’s tuition! And some new mom jeans, her current pair’s a little tighter than she thought they’d be after going through the wash one too many times. Not that Gary minds at all from how he stares when she’s doing housework. She blushes and smirks at the piece, that’s what this needs…an ass that doesn’t quit.