#AND THEY WERE MENTIONED BY JACK NONETHELESS. DO YOU KNOW HOW INSANE THAT MAKES ME

[tinyfantasminha]

The BatB wolves getting a mention in the game must be a sign from the universe

AND WE ARE HERE ALIVE TO WITNESS THIS MOMENT.........

[baxteravenue]

https://www.tumblr.com/baxteravenue/743919302176047104/hiiiiiii-will-u-be-able-to-write-for-jack-again

YES PLS POST ALL OF THEM 😭😭😭😭 I luv ur writing miss u and ur writing

another one ;)

Druski had been trying to get you to do a skit with him forever, partially because you were the It girl that everyone was obsessed with and maybe partially because Jack Harlow had an insane crush on you that he had yet to make any move on and to be honest Druski was sick and tired of hearing him moan and groan about how “Y/N doesn’t even follow me man, I followed her and nothing… Why the fuck does she even follow you?” 

He was just about done with Jack, so he wanted to do something about it.

“No Druski, I’m not doing a skit…” You shook your head as you answered his phone call.

“Nah, nah, nah! It’s chill, not a skit well maybe kinda… It’s more like a cooking show but different.”

You couldn’t lie, you were interested. 

So that’s how you ended up at Druski’s house in Atlanta getting ready to cook a whole meal with his two friends Urban and Jack. 

You had walked in a little late, saying sorry as you rushed through the door. 

“Man, I told y’all she was gonna come!” Druski loudly yelled as a camera came up to you, “Look it’s Y/N and it’s not no clickbait… Say hi girl, make sure they know you ain’t no AI.”

You laughed while waving at the camera, “Hiiiiii.”

“Anyways now that we got everyone here, let me introduce y’all to the Chefs that are gonna be feeding me and the homies.” Druski moved the camera back to him, “We’re gonna really test these motherf*ckers and see how they can work together.” 

You looked over at the other people, Urban and Jack. You knew Urban, you had met him once at a party that someone had thrown and Jack well you knew of him… but you didn’t occasionally listen to his music.

“It’s nice to see you again,” You hugged Urban first, “And nice to meet you I’m Y/N.” You smiled at Jack shaking his hand which made him give you a confused look but nonetheless he shook your hand. 

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Jack.” He responded, “I just want to let you know that I’m not the best cook.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s all good I can pull us through this as long as yall just follow my lead.” 

Druski immediately cut in, “I don’t know about all that because here are the rules. Basically one of yall can’t hear nothing, the next one can't see, and the last one can’t do either. So you all have to rely on each other to not f*ck it up. Especially my kitchen.”

Your eyes widen, “What the hell Druski you didn’t mention any of this?” There was no way you were about to trust two guys you didn’t even know with open fire and knives around you like that.

Jack however did not care, he was hoping to impress you and earn your trust. God, he hardly knew you and yet here he was actively trying to get into a situation where his hand could potentially be cut or burnt off just for you.

Urban was just down with it all, he had seen the trend on Tiktok a couple days earlier and thought it looked fun. 

“I swear we’re not gonna let anything happen to you.” Jack smiled at you, which made you feel a little better.

“I don’t know I’m actually kinda clumsy with my hands so don’t put too much pressure on me.” Urban put his hands up in defense making you laugh.

You sighed, giving the three of them a look before shrugging. “Fuck it.”

“Alright, alright!” Druski nodded, “And before we start Coulda Been Records is not at fault for anyone's clumsy ass and we made all three of em’ sign an NDA.”

Druski had the three of you pick a paper out of hat with what position you were gonna be. 

You were going to be completely deaf with the headphones on blast, Jack couldn’t see anything with his blindfold, and Urban was going to be completely useless because he was both. 

“We’re making pasta!” You just knew you were screaming and it made you laugh, “I’m gonna carry us!”

“Damn shawty is yelling.” Jack laughed, but you couldn’t even hear him. “She fine though so she gets a pass, matter of fact it’s turning me on.”

“What did you say?”  You yelled at Jack.

Jack shrugged, putting up his hands. “Just lead the way!” 

[atl4ntxc]

𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!

— where their partner's love language is gift (food) giving. but what's this? they get better gifts than your friends.

RIDDLE ROSEHEART | ace t. + deuce.s

riddle didn't notice of the obvious favouritism you have over him. he's really grateful for the food that you have given him, smiling gently whenever he receives one of your delicious snacks. everyone notices the pretty red hue that decorated his cheeks, supposedly matching the colour of his hair. he finds out that you also give your friends food, which makes him feel a little sad, but grateful nonetheless. riddle was taught to be grateful at a young age, so you would never catch him being the apposite of what he was taught during his childhood.

as he walked towards the cafeteria, his eyes noticed you giving ace and deuce gifts of their own, which he can assume were food. ace was impatient, opening the gift to be met with a box of mini cherry pies. “thanks, dude! how come you know i like cherry pies?” you deadpanned at ace and sighed. “you're acting as if you don't talk about wanting to eat cherry pies all day, ace...” deuce answered for you, his eyebrows furrowed in stress because of ace. “just be grateful,” epel then commented, mouth full of food.

“is tomorrow jackʼs turn to get food? because i can't wait for my turn!” your lavender-haired friend, epel, excitedly spoke. your lips curled into a gentle smile, “be patient! your turn will come soon,”

riddle couldn't help but feel a little envious of ace, but brushed it off to continue his meal. at the end of the day, you visited his dorm as usual, a whole strawberry tart in hand. “here, love! this is for you,” you extended your arm, making the strawberry tart instantly be in front of his face. “a-ah. rose, you didn't have too—” you pulled his hand to take him towards the tea party table. now, he understands why people say you have favouritism over him. this fact makes his heart thump loudly against his ribcage.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR | ruggie.b + jack.h

leona could care less. he'd just grin and thank his herbivore before digging in, a content expression present. ruggie noticed the uplifted mood of leona, making him curious. obviously he received donuts from you, which he was beyond grateful for. but, why was leona so uncharacteristically happy whenever you take out your lunchbox for him?

turns out, you didn't just bring one lunchbox, but two for leona! if only he could put his hands onto those lunchboxes... ruggie thinks. one lunchbox contained a full course meal, while the other contained a juicy-looking steak. he wants to be leona!! ruggie wants to be leona!! leona would gently pat your head and send a soft smile towards you, making you feel giddy. ugh, the favouritism is so insanely obvious..

leona gets smug when he finds out. his ego gets higher than before, rubbing it into ruggie's face whenever he could. of course jack noticed the upset expression that his vice had. “what's wrong, ruggie?” ruggie grumbled and looked at jack in frustration. his hands moved to hold jack in place before delivering a question that made jack's ears perk up. “do you know that leona gets luxurious food from the prefect?” ruggie asked, desperation in his face. “yes... why?” “so you do know! why didn't you tell me!?”

jack doesn't care. do whatever you want, he isn't entitled to know everything about you. he's appreciative of the food and snacks you give him, and might as well consider himself lucky enough to be close friends with you.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO | ace t.

he notices, and is quite cocky about it. each time ace tries to fight with him verbally, he will mention it and get ace to shut up. ace might say 'who cares?' but azul knows that ace does. azul is appreciative of your food, a soft smile gracing his lips as he gently looks at you with eyes that could make you melt.

“oi prefect! tell me why that shady octopus guy gets better food than us? we're your friends. bros before hoes remember?” yeah sorry ace... you only sweatdropped at the dramatic red-head, staring at him nonchalantly. no way did this man child just threw a tantrum over this? “ace, he's my boyfriend. of course, i'd show obvious favouritism. even if i didn't, my favourite between us 1st years would not be you..” ace looks at you in betrayal and drags deuce away, stomping his way out of monstro lounge before mumbling out “traitor!” he thinks hes eren or something?

“although i do appreciate it, you don’t have to go through the troubles of delivering this to me, you know.” azul looks at you and sighs, making you curiously glance back at him. “i can always ask the twins to help fetch them for me. you know i’d do anything for you, don’t you?” ..since when did azul had this much confidence? (rizzul) you didn’t expect him to say that, really. you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, it suddenly seems hot now, making you cough into your hand. “r-right! i brought some karaage for you, also a few fresh fruits,” azul couldn’t help but chuckle at your stutter.

he smiles and moved his eyes to look at you. “i cannot express the gratitude i have for you, dear. thank you. would you like to have dinner with me tonight here in the lounge? i’ll make sure that the lounge will be available for just the two of us.”

KALIM AL-ASIM | jamil v.

kalim loves your food! gosh, he’s never been so grateful for you before. he’d daresay the food rivals jamil’s cooking! everything you give him, even storebought snacks, he’d happily accept it with a huge grin.

jamil is disgusted by the two of you. take your flirting and couple things away from him, he has better things to do than hear kalim boast about you. his ears are threatening to bleed each time he hears your name come out of kalim’s mouth to praise you. he notices the favouritism for kalim, but obviously doesn’t care. though, each time you give him food to his liking, he couldn’t help but let the corner of his lips curl up. “thanks, prefect.”

he enjoys your homemade curry, but it could not rival kalim’s food that he receives from you; coconut juice and hummus. kalim would kiss your cheek and would share a “thank you!” with you. anything that you give him, it makes kalim happy. just don’t give him curry, he doesn’t really like curry as much as jamil does... “thank you so much, pumpkin! i bet it tastes delicious!” you could only smile at kalim’s bright nature, it was a nice break from dealing with emo teenagers in nrc. kalim was truly a fresh take of air from all the constant gloominess in the college.

“this one is so good! you have to try this with me. here, let me feed you!” his spoon is now against your lips, a radiant smile sending towards you. as cheerful as kalim could be, he was oddly sweet and cute.

VIL SCHOENHEIT | epel f.

vil gets a lot of gifts from his fans. but gifts in the form of food? now, that was rare for him to receive. like the others, he would appreciate your kind gesture and take it as a ‘gift’ from you. (it was uour love language but eh)

epel hates you. he was supposed to be your best man! why do you make vil such an important figure in your life?? (he’s just really salty that you give vil more attention and food than him) he’s really grateful that you gave him food in the first place, but can’t help but question your sanity when you give vil food... that are much more luxurious than his. why are you even in love with vil in the first place?? he sighs 😔

“potato, i’ve been searching for you.” vil says from behind you, making you immediately turn to face him. he noticed how you held a bowl of smoothie in your right hand and raised his eyebrow, “who’s this for?” you glanced at him and sweatdropped, an awkward smile plastered onto your face in the current moment. “for you, as usual. i wanted to let you try one of my smoothies, so...” vil smiled and chuckled softly, adoring your demeanor. “you’re truly precious, my potato. thank you for making me this— i’m sure it’ll be nice.”

his comment made you grin and excited to let him try the beverage you made for your lover. your face makes him laugh lovingly, turning the other way to walk to pomefiore with you trailing behind him like a lost puppy. his potato is just too precious for this cruel world, aren’t they?

IDIA SHROUD | ortho s.

idia is so lucky to have you as his lover! he still wonders how he made you fall in love with him to this day. he doesn’t notice the pure favouritism you have over him, eyes clouded with games all day to think about it. it never really crossed his mind to think that he was your favourite, in fact, he felt like it wad quite the opposite.

obviously ortho notices the way you look at his brother in a lovesick gaze, and the way you put in more effort in the food you give idia, to compare to the food you give to your friends. idia likes sweets, so it was smart for you to bake your own tray of cupcakes for the ignihyde’s housewarden. since ortho doesn’t need to consume food for energy, you give him something else that he would enjoy. (idk what ortho likes help). ortho is very happy that you love his brother to the core, you’re so nice, name!

“idia!” you put your hands on his shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze, making him jump in surprise. he was engrossed with his game, and didn’t really pay any mind to his surroundings. “[n-name]! i didn’t know you were coming...” he says in a hurried tone, sweatdropping at the sight of you with a box of cupcakes. ‘is that for me?’ idia thinks, but he ignores it as he thinks that each time you brought him food, it was for someone else— when in reality, it was for him. “cupcakes, for you.” you smile.

he looks at the cupcakes and back at you, who was smiling at him. ‘cute...’ he stops and stares at the cupcakes. “are you sure they are for me?” you glance at him and could feel the smile on your face slightly drop, idia definitely needs help with confidence. “i’m sure. after all, i made them especially for you.” idia’s hair turned pink at your statement.

MALLEUS DRACONIA | sebek z.

nobody has ever done this for him. he applauds you for your braveness and most of all, kindness. he knows he fell for the right person, and it was you. oh, prefect, you truly are a blessing for malleus draconia. malleus feels so loved by you, you have a special place in his heart.

in the beginning of your relationship with malleus, sebek was 100% against the relationship. knowing your true chaotic personality, he doesn’t want his waka-sama to be dragged into the mess that the first years make (+you). but after seeing how happy malleus looks, he has tolerated you. you give him his least favourite drink ever, black coffee just to spite and mess with him. how dare you! the nerve you have! once he realizes that you give his waka-sama his favourite, ice cream, he ignores your spiteful acts against him.

you made ice cream sandwiches for one of your late night walks, planning to introduce them to your lover. “tsunotarou, you like ice cream, right?” malleus looks at you and nodded as an answer. “yes, i very much enjoy the flavours that ice cream carries.” you paused to stare at him. “i think you would like ice cream sandwiches.” as you opened your picnic basket, malleus can’t help but curiously glance at you. “ice cream sandwich? would you mind explaining this concept to me?” you softly chuckled and began explaining, showing the homemade ice cream sandwich you had in hand.

“it tastes very nice. i like the delicate texture of the ice cream, and the softness of the...sandwich?” you laughed at his confused face, making him softly smile. malleus feels comforted to hear your hearty laughter, as well as watching a warm smile be present on your face through out the whole night.

©atl4ntxc 2023 — any type of plagiarization, copying, stealing, reposting or translating without my permission is forbidden.

(requested by anonymous)

[momonica05]

Jack Jack - my tav for the "jack of all trades" achievement!

My urge to info dump about an oc won so now please, meet my son: Jack Jack (I don't know how to make a good blog post on tumblr, so I apologize if the images are a little too big)

JJ wasn't born a tiefling. He actually came from a family of humans, but he has no recollection of it outside of his father and grandparents, whom he hates with all his heart

At the age of 6, his father disobeyed his patron (for a good reason, but he doesn't know that, hehe). But instead of punishing his father directly, JJ was the target. He was turned into a Mephistopheles tiefling that day, and his family was horrified. He remembers the look of pure hatred and fear from his grandparents, shouting at him, saying he was now a devil. He doesn't remember his father's face, but he remembers his fingers, pointing at the door, and his husky voice "get out"

Since then, he had to live at the city of Baldur's Gate all by himself. He had some friends, partners, and even a mentor (which the dream visitor had taken form of)... but he never got back what he lost that day: love and identity

He spent a good portion of his life, mainly his adolescence, trying to "fit in". He even cut his horns off, which he regretted later down the road as he's now more confident in who he is. Beeing cursed by a devil at the age of 6, as one might imagine, was no easy feat. And aside from gaining an appearance that everyone deemed as "hellspawn", he also gained powers. Powers in which he can not control very well, but powers nonetheless (sorcerer wild magic)

After a whole life of stealing, performing, trying out magic and needing to run because uh oh you accidentally sumoned a troll in a bar! He... well, his life continued shit, but he never gave up. He had some not so trustworthy friends, but hey, as long as they're not a devil or a warlock, he's a very social guy!

Before he was captured by the mindflayers, he was actually planning on traveling around! He wanted to get all his skills worked on. Maybe study a bit more of his magic, as a wizard.... maybe becoming a bard with his musical talent... hell, maybe he'd finally accept his calling for the rogue life! The opportunities were endless!

That is until, of course, he got a tadpole in his mind... but eh, he was planning on traveling one day anyways, so why not use this as an excuse? (definitely not frightened at all haha what do you mean?)

So far, he's really enjoying his adventure! Here's what he thinks about each companion:

Lae'zel: heh, she wants to kill me! (nervously sweating and trying to do what she says because he's terrified, but also really likes her interrogation methods!)

Shadowheart: she's hiding something. She ain't fooling me...

Astarion: he's also hiding something, never EVER trust the snobs from the upper city.... unless, of course, you want their money/sleep with them. (thinks Astarion is a less hot version of him, with how similar they act. Except JJ actually has a soft spot for children and little rascals, so he'll always help them. He's more chaotic good)

Gale: i really liked him and wanted him to teach me how to do magic safely, but never mind! He just ate my magic spear, which doesn't seem very safe...

Wyll: he makes me angry with how he challenges my morals, okay? you shouldn't be nice! You're a warlock! (has a mental breakdown watching Wyll get transformed like he did and wonders if his father was a good man like Wyll all along)

Karlach: I was deadset on killing her... turns out she's not a devil! just a person like me! i really like her (wants to kill Zariel and enter rage like Karlach one day)

BONUS:

He knew damn well what he was getting into but opened the door anyways and said he was gonna write a smut about it (he's batshit insane)

Anyways... I guess that's it. That's all I have for now, I haven't progressed much into the game... sorry if his information is a little scattered around, I don't have it organized and probably didn't mention somethings (he chose his name, for example)

[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not—" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

[xpeachesncream]

perfectly wrong | two

summary: there were rules that had to be followed: no one could know about you two, there was no ‘getting to know each other,’ and there was absolutely no emotional attachment allowed. if this could be done, there should be no complications. but somehow, the rules always get bended.

pairing: reader x fuckboy!kth

genre: college au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 1.7k

chapter warnings: cussing / mature language, dirty talking and aggressive tae, rough unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), hickeys, breast/nipple play, mentions of alcohol consumption and the scent of weed, slight angst or moreso you have a smart mouth but tae gets a lil bit smarter and pulls the attitude out of you.

tags: @soulstaes​ (pls lmk if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

> series masterlist <

Here you were, in your shorts and cropped sweater, trying to look cute for the man who was just going to tear your shit off. You knew the process all too well - you get to his apartment complex, which is about a 10 minute drive away from yours, park in a guest spot and open the door using the code you saved in your phone from when Taehyung sent it to you awhile back. You step in and briefly look over at the security guy who's sitting at the entrance, making sure no one suspicious is coming through. He blankly looks at you because he knows your face. He's seen you here numerous times and he knows where you're headed.

You were one of the girls.

You're actually surprised you're here right now. You suspected he was still at the party, and even if he wasn't, he would be bringing another girl home. Aka miss girl who was all up on his lap.

"Hey." He says, doing that smirk that he usually does as he steps aside to let you in. He's still wearing the same clothes he was wearing at the party, which is giving off the scent of weed and alcohol mixed together. Nonetheless, he still looked good as hell in it and you tried your hardest to not stare.

"Surprised you didn't bring home someone from the party." He scoffs and shrugs.

"I mean I could, if you really don't wanna be here. Just let me know." He fired back, just to meet the level of your sarcasm. He turned on his heel and walked to his bedroom, hands in his pocket. You roll your eyes and follow him quietly. You awkwardly watch in the corner of his room as he pulls in the curtains to keep the street lights from coming in. "So, what is it Y/N?"

"What?" You snap back.

"You wanna stay or you wanna go?" You stayed silent, making him chuckle. "I thought so."

"Whatever Taehyung." While you drop your keys and wallet on his nightstand, you feel his hands snake onto your hips. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, making the chills radiate throughout your entire body.

"Don't be like that, Y/N. I know you wanna be here." He says lowly. It instantly drives you insane that you feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. Such a damn shame that barely any talking needed to be done for you to feel this way.

"Oh yeah?" You respond with such a weak comeback, turning your head ever so slightly just to see his lips braze your neck.

"Yeah." He whispers. His hand reaches down into your shorts, immediately placing his thumb on your covered clit and moving it in circular motions. You cock your head back as a small breathy, moan escapes your mouth, making Taehyung suck on your neck in its various places. At this point, you honestly don't give a fuck if he's marking you up with hickeys. The consequences can be dealt with later. "I know you want me to make you feel good."

He turns you around to face him, his lips crashing into yours aggressively. He lifts you up without breaking the kiss, having you wrap your legs around his waist. He gently lays you on his bed and pulls away to take off his shirt before aiding you with yours and your shorts. You arch your back slightly, giving him just enough room for his long hands to unhook your bra and toss it across his room. His finger softly traces a line down the middle of your body, making you shiver at how light his touch is. He begins to plant kisses from your jaw, down to your neck, your collarbone, breasts, and inner thighs.

He wastes no time pulling down your panties just so his mouth can latch onto your area and suck all of its wetness. You feel your pussy throbbing harder and harder as the minutes go by. Taehyung is sucking you dry while gripping onto your breast and lightly pinching your nipples. You feel his tongue part your folds to taste a little bit more of your juices, causing you to moan his name louder.

"Tae, f-fuck!" You're now resting on your elbows as your head tilts back, your feet placed on top of his bed. He's sticking one finger into your pussy without hesitation, pumping it in and out like there's no tomorrow. Then he proceeds to slip two, then three, curving it inwards right at your spot while the other hand is wrapped around your thigh, providing him with a good grip. He knew your fucking spot. Your breathing picks up enough to make you feel like you're hyperventilating because you feel yourself slowly tipping over.

"Yeah? You're so wet, cum for me." He continues to suck on your clit as his fingers are now digging into your hips. You grip onto his hair like your life depended on it when you feel his tongue crazily licking in and out of your folds.

"Ahhh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes!" You yell out, your grip getting harder as you feel yourself finally letting loose and riding out your high. You tremble from underneath Taehyung's grip, which makes him smirk as he releases himself from in between your thighs.

"Tell me what else you want."

"I want you." You whisper out of breath.

"What about me? You gonna beg for it?" He lowers himself back down onto you, this time giving your breasts the full attention they deserve.

"I want you inside of me."

"Inside where?"

"My pussy. Please, Taehyung." He bites his bottom lip before fiddling with his belt and taking off his bottoms. He loved seeing this look on your face; almost like you could literally lose it without him being inside of you. It literally drives him insane. He lowers his boxers, making his lengthy member spring out like some kind of jack in the box. The sight makes you dizzy, especially knowing he's about to wreck you good with that thing.

He taps his hard cock a couple of times on your pussy before thrusting his entire being into your core. You jut your hips up into his, trying to keep up with his pace. Along with the sounds of him ramming into you, you're moaning his name and whimpering all sorts of gibberish.

The neighbors must be having the time of their fucking life listening to this shit.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're so tight. You feel so fucking good." He groans as he tilts his head back and slows his pace down a bit. The way your walls wrap around his cock warmly and perfectly drives him wild. God forbid he cums right now; he wants this shit to last a tad bit longer. "Turn around for me."

And so, you do what you're told. You're face up, ass down, with Taehyung holding your hands behind your back. He gives your ass one good smack as he's pumping in and out, getting faster by the second. You're screaming into his sheets because lord, do you feel yourself about to cum all over this man's manhood.

"Tae, oh god! You're gonna make me cum again."

"Uh huh." He rams harder into you. He's getting rough with this shit - his huge hand keeping yours locked behind your back while the other is now in your hair to pull on it. "Wet the fucking bed." He feels you cum all over his length, some dripping out of your pussy as he pulls out. He has to hold his breath and gather himself so that he doesn't cum right at this moment cause the sight was unbearable. He still wants you to ride him, so he gets into position and leans back onto the headboard for you to hop on. You feel yourself get a little weak as you gather yourself and muster up the remaining energy you have to ride this man into the sunrise.

You quickly increase your speed, grinding on his length as you feel up on your own breasts. Taehyung hates to admit it, but he loves looking at you from this angle and swears this will do it for him. One hand is digging into your hip because it's his signal for you to keep up the pace, while the other is around your neck.

"Fucking cum for me." You spat out as you keep your eyes locked on his. His eyes are dark and full of lust. He licks his lips before biting onto his bottom lip to try and regulate his breathing.

"Yeah, just like that. Give this pussy to me." He hisses and groans as your hips are loosely riding his length at this point. It's a mess, but you know he's riding out this high. You get on your feet, giving yourself just enough leverage to slow the circular motions. He tilts his head back with his eyes closed and groans loudly. "Fuuuuuuck! I'm gonna cum."

"Cum with me." You plead. You continue to ride his member in circular motions until you feel your knees buckle due to the orgasm that ripples through your entire body once again. He grips onto your sides tightly as he's giving his last thrusts to ride out his orgasm while resting his head against your chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says as you both are now huffing and puffing, trying to catch your breath. You slowly fall into the space next to him, the sleepiness hitting you like a truck. Whenever you've stayed, you and Taehyung usually leave just enough space in the bed so that he's not really touching you, nor are you touching him.

It was really like that.

But what's different about tonight is the fact that even though you're on your side facing away from him, Taehyung manages to plant a kiss on your temple, before planting another on your shoulder. He never did that shit, whatsoever. It was always the fuck session, then you both would be off to dreamland without really saying a word to each other.

"Sleep tight." He whispers before shutting off the lights in his room.

Maybe it was the alcohol in him? But nah, sis. He'd been drunk before.

You didn't wanna think about this too much. You knew it was probably a one time thing. It wouldn't last 'till next visit.

It's Taehyung for fuck's sake.

track three: beg for it - chris brown

[k-s-morgan]

Unpopular opinion but I don't like this new headcanons the new fandom is acknowledging as canon. That will is Christ (because he has Christ imagery but that doesn't mean he's like Christ). The role of Abigail is being blown up out of proportion, she was just a pawn, a side character that served its function. All this Beverly deserved better. Again she was a pawn and she was not exactly friendly with will. In general, the comparisons with things unrelated to the show (that don't even make sense) drive me insane. And if you say any of these things you're called misogynistic. I think I can stand only a few new fans because no one understands the show. Ugh this was a rant. Completely understand if you won't post it. I just needed to vent.

Venting is good! Fortunately, I haven’t seen the first take universally acknowledged as canon. I met several viewers with the idea of Will being a Christ, but in my experience, that’s a pretty rare view. Or I was just lucky not to see it often)) Obviously, it’s impossible to support this take with actual examples from the show because Will is the opposite of Christ. Hannibal was compared to God way more often, and he remains a devil nonetheless.

As for Abigail and Beverly, I think many people share this view, not just new viewers. Abigail’s role is debatable - Will didn’t really know her, so I’m confused when I see passionate posts saying something like, “Hannibal killed Will’s daughter! It can’t be forgiven, it’s too OOC for Will to get over it.” On the other hand, Will loved the idea of her so much that she became extremely important to him - important in ways that other people he actually communicated with weren’t. He could easily dismiss Jack, Alana, Molly, Walter, but Abigail held a special place in his heart that was rivalled only by Hannibal. 

I agree about Beverly. I do think her role and her friendship with Will are often overblown - sometimes I heard takes that she was like a sister to him, which just bewilders me. They were relatively friendly colleagues, nothing more. She discouraged him from standing up for himself to Jack, and while Will formed a closer bond with her than with Zeller and Price, it was still pretty cold. Sometimes he needed her rationalism; Beverly was concerned enough to help him out, but that’s it. In S2, she didn’t want to even visit him in prison - she came because she needed his help and was very careful to avoid touching him (not that I blame her for it, she had every reason to be wary of Will). Will blackmailed her into helping him. Once she realized he could be right, she started digging insistently, but it was for justice, not for Will in particular. Beverly was a very righteous person. After her death, Will was angry for one episode. Then he forgot about her and dismissed her death as insignificant, considering how he never mentions her again, not even when he’s accusing Hannibal of taking people from him. He lists Abigail, Margot’s child, Jack, Alana, but he doesn’t even think to add Beverly there. She did deserve better, but they weren’t friends. 

Also, yes, some people like calling other misogynists or racists or homophobes just because they don’t like a certain character / don’t think they are important for another character. I was accused of misogyny for saying that Will’s relationship with Molly was extremely shallow :D In one of my other fandoms, the moment you say you think the main black character is badly written, you’ll likely be yelled at for being a racist. 

That’s why I appreciate Tumblr - you can surround yourself with friendly blogs and avoid seeing other stuff.

[staytruetonorthch]

Perfect Ch. 1

A/N: I’m super anxious but here is my first official post. It’s just a single chapter around 4.5k. I plan on this being a pretty detailed, long-form story so if you like it, hang in there. I promise it’ll speed up once we get past exposition. I’m also highly aware of the switches from past/present tense, but I’m too tired to fix it and I’ve been so hesitant to post it’s either a now or never. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Football!Calum x Dancer!OC  

-----

"Don't make me come over there!" It may have looked like I was yelling into the racks of clothing and shoes in my closet, and to be honest, I might as well be. 

"You worry too much, Celley." I can hear the smile on my best friend, Brynn's face from my bed in the other room. 

"I do, but only because you don't give a fuck, B and I know those boys don't," I said, counting each person out on my fingers. "That's four people in, and not a single fuck is being given. Someone's got to, or nothing would get done." 

"You've got a point. The delivery was a little aggressive, but I'm moved nonetheless," Ash spoke up through Brynn's phone. 

"I'm cleaning as we speak, Cel. It's gonna be fine," Luke chimed in from the boys' side of the phone. 

"I can hear you lads playing FIFA," I said with an exasperated sigh.

We have a party planned at the boy's house tonight. A party I only had five hours to prepare, but that's the beauty of university, right? Spontaneity. All precautions to the wind. Everything that I never could be in high school and am still afraid to do today after a whole month of coursework. Don't ask me what I think might happen. Spontaneous combustion? Instantaneous death? A party that no one has fun at because I didn't have time to make an updated playlist or look up the actual rules for any drinking games? 

"Brynn, are you ready to go?" I ask, peeking my head out of my closet to look at her sprawled out across my bed. I can hardly see her underneath the excessive number of decorative pillows and thick white down cover.

"I just got so comfortable. I was actually contemplating taking a nap."

"Please," I plead, batting my lashes over large dewy eyes. It’s a trick I picked up after so many lyrical dances over the years. Direct eye contact with these watery eyes always left judges speechless.

"Ugh… fine, but I'm getting wasted tonight and sleeping in this wonderful bed. Have your asses in gear by the time we get there," she said, hanging up on the boys and throwing pillows haphazardly across the floor. I cringed at every one as it landed in the thick white carpet. I don't bother telling her that I hadn't expected the night to end any other way. I pull myself back into the closet, eyeing my options once more. I could either go with a red gingham top, or I could tie my white vogue tee shirt in the front for a more casual look. Both require a bra sadly.

"The red is trying too hard," Brynn said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can't pull out picnic bitch chic at a party."

"I guess you're right." I pull the tee over my head careful to avoid touching the thin white fabric to my made-up face. Once I had a knot secured at the base of my rib cage, I fluffed my hair as if it could get any bigger and smoothed out my denim skirt. "Shoe's and I'm good. What about you?" I said eyeing her in the reflection of my full-length mirror. She wore a white hoodie underneath black overalls and black high-top converse. Splitting her hair in half, she tied it up into multicolored space buns on top of her head. Brynn is the kind of girl who could put on mascara and chapstick five minutes before she left, and she’s effortlessly beautiful. Her freckles do most of the work across her nose and cheeks, making her insanely adorable.

"Done. Let's hit the road, Jack," she said, walking towards the door to my studio flat. I quickly replace the pillows back on the bed and turned off all the lights before joining her. She grabbed the keys to my Jeep, knowing I’m too preoccupied to drive us.

"Are we stopping at the store on the way or coming back out?"

"Stopping on the way. We just need paper towels, red cups, more ping pong balls because Mikey lost three of the last four, and snacks. I also found this recipe for a cool looking pink drink, but the boys are all stocked on beer."

"I almost hate the fact that I can't use my fake here. I spent good money and almost got arrested for something that's legal here." I smile, scrolling through my checklist one more time to make sure I didn't forget anything.

"Well that's your fault for not doing a simple google search before you came to uni in Aus."

"I'm just saying, in America, I would be a plug." She turned wide out into the street, speeding past every car. She has a bit of a lead foot.

"That one's lost on me, love." I try to keep up with her American slang, but I wasn't able to watch a lot of American shows or anything growing up, so I'm a little behind to put it gently.

She said she has a southern accent, but I can't tell any difference. Everything she says just sounds brutal to me. Shit slams, anything can pop off apparently, and a lot of good things burn. At least that's what I gather when she uses 'fire' and 'flames' as adjectives. 

I met Brynn at new student orientation. She seemed to be the only other one unamused by the school's welcoming parade meant to encourage school spirit, so as soon as our parents left, we left campus to explore the surrounding area locating the nearest shops and eating places. She was unlike any friend I had ever made swearing and speaking in riddles. I went to an all-girls catholic school filled to the brim with carbon copies of perfect people. We were second to none in both academics and clubs, which my parents loved, and Brynn was the absolute antithesis of that. She was a self- proclaimed 'thick' queen who was a pleasant deviance to the bird thin girls I was usually surrounded by. Her hair couldn't choose a color after multiple self- dye jobs. Even her mixed Mexican and Jamaican heritage were new to me. She said what she wanted and smiled wide at everything. I'm just happy she saw something in me to stick around even if it was the fact that I kidnapped her on the first day, keeping her from someone better.

I grab the frame of the car as she whips into the car park stopping short of a disgruntled gentleman in the crosswalk. She cursed loudly, causing my face to heat up. I contemplate jumping out of the car seeing as how the doors to the Jeep are safely kept in my garage. It’ll be a quick getaway, but I may need to make sure she makes it into a spot that isn't already occupied with this lovely gentlemen's car.

We soon found a spot and made quick work of the shopping, splitting the list I organized by section right down the middle. We’re back on the road in no time, heading closer to the edge of campus where the boys lived.

Ashton was actually the first person to befriend Brynn. They met at a summer fellowship program that put them in parts of Australia that don't have service for a hundred miles. They have that rugged woodsman thing in common. It kept them in touch through their final year in high school before she 'coincidentally' got accepted into the same university as him an entire ocean's length away. They were equally as smiley; she was just a little more… brash at times which is hard to believe. She didn't want to admit that she was nervous when he invited her to the house, he shared with two of his best mates, so I didn't mention anything when she asked me along. As the male version of Brynn, I immediately got on with Ashton. Mikey was chirpy and so sweet despite his punk persona. His other mate Luke was quiet only offering his very corny, yet intriguing commentary. He seems to be the closest thing I have to the friends I'm used to at home despite his lip ring. We formed a group of sorts meeting up in the library to study during the week and finding anything else but coursework to do on the weekends.

Our first kickback was just a barbeque featuring the five of us until Ash invited a few friends he made throughout the week with his open and boyish charm. Brynn had a few of her own, and Mikey wanted to join in on the fun, so he found a few friends to join. Luke and I were just fine meeting people as they were brought to us. Before we knew it, there was a group chat of about fifteen of us with more and more ideas of who to invite to the weekend shenanigans.

The boys had felt the pressure of expectation early this morning before Michael was a functioning human being. He shooed everyone off with a 'ya sure' before hanging up and going back to sleep. Brynn called me with our invite not only to attend the party but to host it at about 5:00 and of course, I freaked out. I plan everything, including some of the most successful events of my college career, if I do say so myself, so I took the praise for last week's party in stride. The difference is, I didn't spend my week planning out this event down to the second hand, so anything can happen. I wouldn't feel all the way like expelling my insides if it hadn't been confirmed that the first-year football players were going to be in attendance after today's match.

This confirmation came directly to Ash from another one of his mates from college, Calum Hood. Not only the best first year but the best player on the whole bloody team. He's also the hottest. The first time I saw him, he was leaving the classroom I was walking into. He opened the door just as I turned the handle, pushing me backward and almost to the floor.

"My fault, mate," he said distractedly, zipping his bag and flipping it over his shoulder. He was obviously sponsored by Nike dressed top to bottom in their slate grey gear, the school's emblem attached to every piece. The only thing I could tell wasn't sponsored was the gray beanie he had pulled down over his ears covering his hair. When he finally looked up a smirk graced his pink lips.

"You alright, doll?"

I couldn't tell if my reaction showed on my face because I didn't expect him to be so adorable with the brute force, he opened the door with. I just nodded my head taking deep breaths, trying to keep my face still. His tan skin was smooth and warm, complimenting the heat in his eyes that was slowly melting my resolve.

"Right. Well you're late, so you might want to…" he trailed off, nodding over his shoulder into the classroom.

"Right," I replied, hoping my hair was doing that cool thing it does when the wind pushes it back. It's either doing that, or the curls are fighting themselves on top of my head. It's so thick I can never really tell without a mirror, but let's be honest. My hair tells me what it wants to do, I rarely have any say in the matter. Instead of walking out of the door, he extended his arm, acting as a human door frame for me to walk under. When I turned my head to look again, he was gone.

I showed up a little earlier to class the next day to see if I could catch him again. Then I was late again and right on time before I decided to be outside the room before his class even ended. He was still nowhere to be found. I had practiced redeeming myself with a smile or maybe even words. Anything but how cringe-worthy I had been the first time, but to no avail. I didn't see him again until the boys dragged us to the first football game.

I don't mind sports at all. I grew up going to my older brother's rugby matches, so I'm not entirely clueless. Brynn, on the other hand, sat unmoving and quiet for the first time in our friendship. I think she concerned Ashton the most, as he asked her if she was ok every time the ball stopped moving.

"Someone tell me why I chose the guitar over football again," Luke said, pulling his hands down his face. "I was just as good as him, but now he's got fans and his face on posters."

"If that was true, I'm sure you'd be out there, dude," Mikey said, patting his shoulder. Michael wasn't interested in playing sports unless it was FIFA on the Xbox, but he was supportive nonetheless. Luke wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, so he could point out the center forward dribbling through two defenders.

"That's my best mate, or at least he was before he got club offers," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

"I'm surprised he even came to university. He could've just gone pro," Ash said before he cursed the refs loudly. The boy Luke had been pointing out was quick with powerful legs and defined arms. His jaw was clenched, making it sharp enough to cut through glass. Thick curly hair was pushed out of his face with a thin gauzy headband, a gold streak shone prominently in the surrounding darkness of his curls. As he made quick work of the remaining defender, there was only himself and the goalkeeper who looked menacing. Making a sharp left jab, he caused the goalie's weight to shift, giving him the perfect opportunity to use his nondominant foot for a goal.

I jumped out of the way as the boys leaped up, hugging each other, and spilling beer. The entire crowd erupted in shouts, holding on to one another as if the world depended on it.

"CALUM! CALUM! CALUM!" the entire stadium roared. He smirked up at the crowd with a small wave. I gasped, grabbing onto Brynn's arm in surprise.

"Calum?" I asked incredulously. Oh boy what did I miss out on being dumbstruck? Not only is he incredibly attractive, but he's a football king? My parents would love him, I would literally win my family if I could've snagged him, but I'm stupid. So incredibly stupid.

This is why tonight is so stressful and important. If I can not only get a football player, but the best football player here and he looks that good, I can get my parents off my back. My mum went to university solely to get a husband, which she found in my dad. She worked as a primary school teacher until he could support them at his father's law firm, and before you know it, he was running the place. They pop out a few kids, dad runs for Parliament, and the rest is unfortunately history. Mum loved teaching, but she loved being a mum more. She just raised the 'perfect children' she liked to say to anyone who would listen. My too perfect to be true brother Cleo and her wannabe prima ballerina Celeste, me. So tonight, I have to look perfect, and everything has to be perfect, but I don't have time to bustle around and host. This party has to go on autopilot, so I can set my focus on Calum.

"It could be worse, Celley," Brynn shrugged as she set the grocery bags down on the counter of the boys' home. She's right, it could be. I didn't expect it to be this clean actually, but there were no discarded clothes in sight, no pizza boxes on the counters, and no beer cans all over the place. At first glance the place looks fine, I just have to get the dishes out of the sink and out of sight, so they're not broken. A quick vacuum run and the place would work out just fine. I relaxed a little letting my shoulders pull forward.

"Thank you, Lukey," I said, starting the water in the sink. I knew he was the only person who really did any cleaning around here. As much as they were all messy, he couldn't live in filth for too long.

"No problem," he replied sitting on the island watching me work.

"Hey, I picked up my own stuff," Michael complained looking through the bags we brought in pulling out various things.

"You picked up the underwear that your mum wrote your name in and sat back down." Ash always laughs when he chastises, never letting you know if he’s serious or not.

"Exactly. I picked up MY stuff. You guys never listen to me." He shook his head, disapprovingly.

"Thank you too, Mikey, but start throwing those balls around this kitchen, and I will cut yours off as a replacement," I said sweetly. His eyes went wide as he set the ping pong balls back in the bag he got them out of.

"So, what's the vibe going to be tonight?" Brynn asked, putting chips in bowls and swatting the boys’ hands away.

"Well I accidentally invited like twenty people this morning."

"And those people invited people," Ash added.

"And word got around so looks like we've got ourselves a rager," Luke said, rubbing his hands together with a devilish grin. "You've got to admit, we're becoming the best party house for first years."

"Calm down. We're just the only first-years who don't live in dorms where you can't party," Ashton said, punching Luke in the arm. Not many groups of friends stay together long enough or get into the same university for their parents to go in thirds on the house. It worked out to be less expensive than staying in dorms.

"We've got the fucking football team coming, Ash, I think we're doing pretty well." I listened to their banter silently as I cleaned and set things exactly where I had imagined them. The first guest started to arrive a few hours later after I had time to add a few extra touches and have my first glass of the wine Brynn and I had hidden in the fridge. Neither of us is too keen on liquor or beer.

Boys are scattered around the living room, passing around joints and playing FIFA. Girls talk around them, mingling on the patio. There’s a very competitive game of beer pong going on in the dining room that somehow consists of all four corners of the table instead of teams on halves. I was content for the first few hours refilling bowls and dancing with friends I had made at past parties. I even had time to play wingman for Michael and a blue-haired girl in the corner, but soon I got anxious. It was reaching the first hour of the new day. I found myself sitting on the floor between Luke's long legs watching him play Super Smash and stealing hits of the joint he had held between his fingers. I gave up on being cute at about two, smoking enough for my eyes to be as red as Luke's, and my shoes had long been discarded in one of the boy's rooms. I didn't know, nor did I care who's it was.

There were just about the maximum amount of people possible crammed into this small house, and I didn't bother saying excuse me as I got up to make my way to the bathroom. At one point there were so many people taller than me I felt I was walking through a forest. I tried slipping past one particularly muscular redhead boy caging a giggling blonde against the wall. I did my best to slip behind him, but he decided it was the perfect time to do the douche stretch and flex hitting me with the red cup in his hand. The pink sticky drink that was delicious if I do say so myself covered me from neck to foot. My skin went hot, and I'm pretty sure the blonde's giggles were going to cause me to evaporate the liquid from my skin with embarrassment alone. Where was my snarky American friend when I needed her to tongue-lash someone?

"I'm sorry, love," the boy said, failing to conceal his laughter. I tried to avoid his face at all costs burning a hole through his chest with my eyes. The school's emblem was stitched into his slate grey shirt, but I couldn't quite remember where I had seen this exact shirt before. I didn't have time to worry about it with my shirt becoming more see-through by the second and my head spinning in circles.

"Just let me by please," I said. Redhead stepped closer to the girl who was giving me a snarky look over his shoulder. "Stay in your lane, honey," I said, trying out one of Brynn's colloquialisms on my own tongue. My glare was enough to split the crowd like the red sea as I stormed past. Just as I reached the bathroom and twisted the handle, it swung open forcefully, revealing a disheveled brunette with smeared makeup and haunting blue eyes.

"What the fuck happened to you?" she said with an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips. 

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, pushing my hair out of my face. "Are you finished in there, so I can get cleaned up or?" She just smirked sauntering out with a wink. I shook my head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I looked in the mirror at my hair that was slowly but surely frizzing out, and my shirt may as well have been a window into my soul for how see-through it was. My mascara was smudged in the corners of my eyes and my lips had lost their shine ages ago.

"Are you alright?" I was startled by a voice coming from the toilet.

"Oh my goodness, I didn't know anyone was in here," I said, covering my eyes. "I thought that girl was the only one and she left and--"

"It's fine. I'm not doing anything but looking at my phone." I peeked through the cracks of my fingers to see a boy was sat on the toilet cover searching diligently through his phone. I scanned him from head to toe. Black Vans, faded black skinny jeans, a cut-up muscle shirt that was barely attached at his hips, exposing his defined torso and arms. His warm skin, his dark hair with a single gold streak running up the front. I gulped, hoping I would take my own advice and just spontaneously combust.

"I'm gonna just go," I said quietly, reaching for the door behind me. I had forgotten how quick he was on the field because he scared me shitless when his hand captured my shoulder stopping me from leaving.

"No, I'll go," he said quickly. "I don't think I'm going to find what I'm looking for anyways. Unless… do you happen to know whose party this is?"

"It's my mate's house actually," I said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. He should know. He invited himself and the whole team this morning.

"So you know all the lads? Michael, Ashton…"

"And Luke," I finished for him.

"I've been trying to reach Ashton and I just barely caught Mikey before he went down to the beach with some girl. He let me in, but there's so much going on I never made it past the kitchen. Do you know where Luke is?"

"Uh… couch." I pushed my hair out of my face taking a deep breath. I may as well just give up at this point. I'm in no position to charm anyone, and I can see the remnants of that girl's lip gloss on his lips. It was kind of cute on his pink pout, but I shook my head to clear the thought. He's not looking at me like that, and he probably never will.

I turned the faucet on testing the temp before grabbing a washcloth from the cupboard and washing the stickiness from my neck and exposed stomach. I expected him to leave, but he just sat back on the toilet cover, fiddling with his thumbs. He looked forlorn, his eyes longing.

"You ok?" I asked undoing the tie at the front of my shirt and attempting to wring it out to no avail. I glanced at the sad boy in the mirror and shrugged before pulling the wet material over my head and rinsing it out underneath the water. It's not like anything was left to the imagination with it on.

"Have you ever heard Luke say anything about me?" he asked quietly.

"Kinda," I tilted my head slightly as if it would help me think harder. "He did say you used to be his best mate when we went to one of your matches."

"He did?" he asked, perking up like a puppy.

"Yeah, watches every match. About loses his mind with pride every time you score, which you do quite often, good on you," I said, fixated with the faint pink water swirling around the drain. Maybe it wouldn't be a lost cause to put this in the wash. I'm so high and sleepy it probably won't make it tonight. "Well, I'm gonna go. If you work it up in you to go see Lu, tell him I've gone back to my flat. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."

"I'll do that," he said, standing up assuredly. "I'm Calum, by the way."

"I gathered that," I said with a small grin. "I'm Celeste." When I opened the door, I didn't imagine how bad it might look with me leaving sans shirt, with the school's football star following close behind me. I decided to start caring in the morning when I had Brynn to complain to. I'm a person who knows how to quit while they're ahead. My perfect night shouldn't be able to get any worse, and I'm not going to give the universe the time to try. 

[alcalavicci]

Discussing Mr. Paracelsus, Who Are You?

daisymum: “Okay, now that I'm sitting down with the time to write something substantial, my mind draws a complete blank. (Doesn't it always work like that?)

“Anyway, I'm a big Michael Rennie fan & came across this VHS tape of mystery. The guy that found it originally picked it up at a used book sale because it was labelled as a Sherlock Holmes spoof. It's a pristine example of classic late 60s camp and a complete tour de force for Dean Stockwell. He plays a milquetoast undergrad in turn of the century Boston who gets possessed by an immortal 16th century alchemist. Horrors! Stockwell goes from being completely virginal to an out of control seducer (and sorcerer nonetheless) while vamping his way all around the town, in a blink of an eyelash. ‘He's either drunk or been smoking hashish’ is how one character describes him. (How's that for a subtle drug reference?) He kidnaps orphans & sells them into slavery! He marries his fiancee & makes a less than honest woman out of his secretary! He snows his parents & then trys to take over the board of directors at his father's life insurance company! He casts spells using various potions & other nefarious means to further him along his path of complete & total local domination! ‘It's a bit beyond the long arm of coincidence, wouldn't you say?’, is how Michael Rennie's character describes it.

“Michael Rennie himself is terrific & gets to do things you normally wouldn't associate with him, but he's very very good at it nonetheless. He plays a Sherlock Holmes-type professor with tongue firmly planted in cheek, and then later he gets to don several different disguises while spying on Our Villian. The comedic timing is dead on perfect & they obviously had a lot of fun filming it. I strongly believe it was filmed sometime between 1966-68. It's very high camp, in a good way, and Screen Gems spent some money on filming it; there are relatively elaborate sets and costumes, exploding glue factories, dangerous battles to the death, etc. A lot of work went into the production & I wonder why it was shelved. The pacing of the plot is a trifle uneven (when they try to cram in a little too much of the plot into one scene instead of spreading it out over several scenes. That's not a very good description, but if you've ever watched Lost In Space you know exactly what I'm talking about), but it's nothing out of line for what was being broadcast at the time, and could have easily been remedied. In fact, it holds up remarkably well...it's an incredible lot of fun, lo, these almost 40 years later. And like I said, the comedic timing & the overall acting both are perfect as perfect can be. I really do wonder why nothing ever came of it.

“Anyway, most of the credits are missing so not a lot is known about the production. The names on what remains of the credits are all from Screen Gems, which was in high cotton back in 1966/7, with Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, The Flying Nun, and especially The Monkees all currently in production & making them a ton of money (and a good deal of money was spent on this as well). Like I said earlier, the dialogue is straight out of Batman, and liberally peppered with drug references galore. I've been searching Variety beginning at the end of 1966 for any kind of information, but no luck yet. Harry Ackerman, the producer, was mentioned several times as one whose fortunes were on the rise, and the pilot viewing season for the network executives had ended in March of 1967, and there's no mention of it there either. So maybe it's from the Summer of '67, perhaps? Does anyone know what Dean S. was up to in the Summer of Love? His hair on the tape is a little long (think Victorian mod), so maybe it does date from somewhere around then? What do you guys think?”

daisymum: “Anyway, if you like Dean Stockwell, you're going to LOVE this. He's prominently featured in the entire thing & spends his time possessed for the most part. He sashays his way around the sets, kind of like a vampish Ellis Dee from The Producers, I kid you not. He pulls it off, though, & the whole thing is really fun to watch.”

Jill: “Well, I have just had the privilege of watching Dean in the tape of 'Professor Queed' and what a treat it was! (thanks, daisymum!). Dean hams it up outrageously in Top Hat and a Cape -- I swear, I haven't seen him act up like this in anything else other than Quantum Leap – and I've seen a lot of Dean in a lot of stuff. In fact, it's a bit disconcerting -- there is all of the comedy schtick from his turn on QL, but in a very young and agile man's body, as he leaps and twirls all over the place. This is not the cool demeanor of Wilbur Whately of Dunwich Horror (which is another over-the-top performance, but not purposefully comedic), nor even the weirdness of the Werewolf of Washington. This is more like "Dave" in Psych-Out. If that director had told Dean Stockwell and Jack Nicholson to REALLY play their parts in Psych-Out for maximum goofiness -- well, then, 'Professor Queed' might have been the result -- provided, of course, that we change Haight-Ashbury into Edwardian times.

“And the dating of this film, which looks very much like an unaired TV pilot, as daisymum said previously, is truly a mystery. Because – Dean supposedly wasn't acting for 3 years (in some interviews, he even says 5.....). And yet, 1966-67 really seems to be the date of this show. Daisymum is thinking late 1966, and I think she's more right than she is wrong.

“1965 is too early, because this isn't the Dean Stockwell of Rapture. Besides, his hair is a bit too long in the back in 'Professor Queed.' Not a lot, but the waves are there at the nape of the neck. His face is very much like 'Dave' in Psych-Out (1968), though not much like the 1968 photo we have of Dean from a UK television show of '68 (where he has a mustache and sideburns). I COULD say it's 1968, like I originally thought........but the film quality itself says earlier than that. It just doesn't look like a 1968 TV pilot to me.........it looks a tad bit older than that.

“Okay, here are my clues, Daisymum (and the rest of you can play along, too). One BIG thing I noticed..........the sound effect when Dean performed 'magic' was the same as when Samantha twitched her nose on 'Bewitched.' And this was produced by the same person, I believe? (Harry Ackerman). So we're at Screen Gems, on ABC. Bewitched first broadcast in color during the 1966-67 season.

“A young Juliet Mills is in the cast. I didn't know if she made TV appearances before 'Nanny & The Professor' of 1970, but upon looking her up at IMDb.com, I noticed she started doing American TV appearances in 1965.

“When I was watching this film, I felt that it was influenced by 'The Great Race' (1965) and 'Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines' (also 1965). I definitely see the villain of The Great Race (Jack Lemmon) in Dean Stockwell's performance. Since it always takes TV a year or two to get on the bandwagon of a popular trend, that would put this Edwardian pilot in 1966 or 1967 (with a nod to other popular Edwardian films of that decade - 'My Fair Lady' -1964, and 'Mary Poppins').

“What this means to my 'timeline' of Dean's life...........well, it could mean that Dean had not completely 'dropped out' of acting for 3 years, as is often claimed. And this performance was much more than just 'making money to put groceries on the table.' This pilot required a lot of effort on Dean's part.

“By the way, as much as I like it, I can also see why this pilot didn't sell. The campiness isn't crazy enough to be laugh-out-loud funny, but if you take it seriously it will make you shake your head and go "huh?" In fact, I need to watch this film several times before I truly understand the story -- and even then, I'm not sure I'll completely get it. Also, Dean was the 'guest star,' so I assume the series was meant to showcase Michael Rennie, not Dean. But Dean is in the film so much, that it ends up being about his over-the-top insanely portrayed character, and you can't sell a series on that much weirdness from a guest star. I don't think.” 

[Me: For what it’s worth, I’ve narrowed down the timing for the filming of this to the first half of 1966.]

[darks-ink]

Disinterred CH.15

Chapter 15: Clean It Up

And Amity Park… Amity Park was used to dealing with the unusual. The impossible. The non-existent. So, really. Having a ghost and a clone of said ghost testify for the crimes of another ghost… It wasn’t that far out of there.

(Tumblr hates links and I want this to appear in the tags so… for author notes/full fic summary/links to the other chapters/mirror links to AO3 and FFnet, click here)

“We need to talk to detective Payton.”

The woman behind the desk quirked an eyebrow at him, then glanced at the group behind him. “If you have a crime to report, you can speak to whichever officer is available.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Danny insisted. “It involves a case he was working on.”

She opened her mouth again, clearly intending to shoo him away. Jazz cut her off, however. “It’s really important, please. Can you just contact him and tell him that the Fentons want to talk with him.”

The lady glared at them shortly, but complied. The call involved a brief back-and-forth, but once Payton had heard the words “Fenton” and “case” he seemed to have made up his mind.

Sighing, the woman at the desk put the phone down again. “He’ll be here in a few moments.”

“Thank you.” Danny grinned, just a little too pleased with the small victory. Hey, he would take whatever he got right now. Any distraction from the upcoming conversation was more than welcome.

When Payton appeared he looked more than a little resigned at the sight of their group of teenagers. “I thought that the Fentons wanted to talk to me?”

“We’re temporary stand-ins for his parents,” Sam said with a shrug. “They’re… occupied.”

Payton sighed but, to his credit, didn’t otherwise react. He simply led the four of them to an empty room so they could talk.

“What is this about, then? Because I’m guessing that the ‘case’ you wanted to talk about is yours?”

“Yeah,” Danny confirmed with a nod. “We… We kind of left our some details.”

“You are aware that it’s illegal to lie to the police?” Payton crossed his arms, a mild glare send towards the teens.

“We didn’t lie!” Sam exclaimed, throwing out her hands. “We just didn’t tell the entire truth.”

“Is that so?” Payton didn’t look particularly convinced. Danny didn’t really blame him. In fact, he kind of felt bad for the officer. His involvement in the case certainly made it a lot harder than it had any right to be. Ghosts, in general, made work for the police difficult.

“When we talked about my… ghostly nature,” Danny started hesitantly, “we implied that my… more ghostly appearance was just a one time thing. It’s not.”

Payton nodded, now looking slightly more believing. “Is this related to your glowing green eyes during the confrontation with your parents?”

“Uh, yeah. I can trigger the whole transformation on command, but the glowing eyes happens for all sorts of reasons. Usually when I’m using my powers or when I’m experiencing really strong emotions.” Danny shrugged. “I kind of… use my more ‘ghostly’ form as a disguise of sorts, so people don’t recognize me.”

“But what would you need a disguise for?” Payton squinted at him, suspicion clear on his face. “Nothing illegal, I hope?”

Danny snorted in response, leaning back in his chair. “Hardly,” he said, before tapping into his powers to make his eyes glow on purpose. “Come on, it can’t be that hard to figure out.”

Payton scrutinized him for a few long moments, eyes gliding over him. Then the man sat forward, arms resting on the table. “You’re saying that you are Phantom? Well, that certainly explains why you laughed when I said that if Phantom thought you were okay, it was probably safe to trust that judgment.”

“What can I say, ghost hunting runs in the family.” Danny smirked, a rather Phantom-like expression, to drive the point home.

The detective continued to eye him, then sighed. “You do realize that this isn't going to change the decisions we made last meeting, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed with a shrug. “I mean, I guess I’ll try for college but if I can’t get in I’ll just work for my parents. I’m already following their footsteps as Phantom anyway, might as well give inventing a shot too.”

Then his expression fell again. “But to get back to the original topic… I’m not just telling this for fun. It’s a secret for a reason.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Payton agreed, sitting back again. “What is it then?”

Danny frowning, running through his options. Apparently he took too long, because Jazz spoke up. “He’s not the only one. Not the only one with a human and ghost appearance, I mean.”

“And you’re telling me this because… you don’t think they deserve their secret if you didn’t get to keep yours?” Payton queried, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“No,” Danny bit out. “I’m telling you because he’s a jackass who uses his powers for bad purposes!” The vivid green light from his eyes flickered on the desk in front of him, but he ignored it. “He hurts people, he manipulates people! And he has gone too far!”

“And who is he, then?” Payton seemed genuinely intrigued. Apparently Danny’s rant had convinced him to at least play along.

“In human form or ghost form?” Tucker piped up. “Because he looks drastically different and he has no problem flaunting that fact.”

“In his ghost form he calls himself Plasmius.” Sam crossed her arms. “But the public usually calls him the Wisconsin Ghost, I believe.”

“The blue skinned vampire ghost?” Payton frowned. “I’ve heard of him, yes. Known to cause problems, picks fights with… Phantom.” The last word he said more quietly, realization of Phantom really being a 16 year old apparently striking him.

“That’s him,” Danny confirmed. “His human form is also well-known. Old family friend of my parents, current mayor of the town…”

Payton grunted. “You’re saying that the Vlad Masters is a ghost like you?”

“How do you think he won the election?” Jazz questioned with a scoff. “He didn’t stand a chance until he overshadowed most of the voters.”

“And that’s just one of many sketchy things he has done with his powers.” Tucker’s jaw visibly tightened at the thought of everything the man had done. Of what he had tried to do to him. Danny was glad for friends like these. “Stealing money, overshadowing business rivals to take over their companies, attempted murder of Jack Fenton…”

“Kidnapping Maddie Fenton, twice. Kidnapping Danny at least that often, including trapping him in ghost-proof bindings and electrocuting him,” Sam continued. “Sending potentially dangerous ghosts to Amity Park, in the hopes to either kill Jack or hurt Danny.”

“And that’s not even to mention that he tried to clone me,” Danny joined in. Then with a grimace, he added, “And emotionally abusing the one clone that survived. Well, as far as a ghost can survive, of course.”

Payton blinked, apparently stunned by the information overload. Then the last part processed, and he frowned. “He cloned you?”

“Not very successfully, but yes.” Danny shrugged, a faux casual air about him. “She didn’t quite come out right, and she wasn’t stable. But she’s with my parents now, and we managed to save her.”

“Which is also why they’re not here,” Tucker explained, leaning on Danny’s shoulder. “Hence Sam and I as the replacement parents.”

Payton remained quiet for a few moments. Then he sighed. “You are aware of how bat-shit insane this sounds?”

“Welcome to my life,” Danny said with a snort. “Or, well, you know what I mean.”

“We can’t just take your word for all of this,” Payton insisted. “It sounds… Well, it sounds too bizarre to come up with, but that doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

“And we can provide you with whatever proof you need.” Sam glowered at him. “We just need your assurance that you’re gonna look into it, and that you’ll do your best to arrest Vlad.”

Payton sighed, looking like he was very much regretting his involvement in this case. Again. “Of course. That’s literally my job, miss Manson. Although I do wonder how you expect us to arrest and contain a ghost.”

“Inventions to restrict his powers exist,” Tucker supplied. “You can probably move to arrest him the normal way, since he won’t be expecting you to know. Use some ghost-proof cuffs and you’ll have him before he realizes.”

“Fine. It’s a deal. I’ll need all evidence you have of his crimes, including witness reports,” Payton instructed, looking like he was trying to get back in control of the situation.

Danny nodded, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the Red Huntress. She was one of the people Vlad manipulated, and he straight-up tried to hire her to catch the clone when she escaped.”

Looking he was going to regret asking, Payton nonetheless asked. “I thought the Red Huntress didn’t like Phantom? Or ghosts in general?”

“Misunderstanding,” Danny explained, waving Payton’s concern off with his hand. “We got everything figured out, and she knows of both my identities.”

“Of course,” Payton groaned. “And I’m guessing you know who she is, then?”

“We all do.” Sam grinned at the clearly overworked detective.

The detective only groaned, but didn’t say anything. Danny figured he had a pretty good idea of what the agent was feeling like.

But it was for a good cause.

It took a few days to gather all the evidence the police required. The witness reports alone took a considerable chunk of time, considering the sheer amount of people in Amity Park alone that knew about Vlad’s shady business. Aside from the Fentons (all five of them) and Sam and Tucker, Valerie also had to be included.

And sadly, that was easier said than done, as she needed to reveal her identity for the report to count. After all, a judge wouldn’t just accept the statement of a masked vigilante that no one knew.

Thankfully she trusted Danny’s judgment (and, of course, the judgments of his friends and Jazz) and allowed Payton and his team to know. They were… less than pleased to discover that she, too, was a teenager.

Knowing that it had been Vlad who pushed her into ghost hunting in the first place… Well, that eased their moods a little. Besides, she and Phantom now worked together – and they trusted Danny to keep the people of Amity safe. From ghosts, at least. Human crime… Well, that was their job.

Additionally, there was some trouble with Dani’s witness reports. Law wasn’t exactly made with cloning in mind. Legally, Danielle Fenton didn’t exist.

But then, neither did ghosts.

And Amity Park… Amity Park was used to dealing with the unusual. The impossible. The non-existent.

So, really. Having a ghost and a clone of said ghost testify for the crimes of another ghost… It wasn’t that far out of there.

Most of the people involved who knew enough about the case to know that three of the people involved were ghosts… Well, they were just glad that the ghosts were solving their issues like normal people. Instead of, you know, blasting each other to bits on the streets.

When Danny first heard people mention it, it had been some of the other officers of Payton’s team. People who knew he was a ghost, but who hadn’t been told about his Phantom alter-ego. He immediately thought back of all the times he and Vlad had brawled and burst into laughter.

The officers looked at him like he had gone crazy, eyebrows raised. Between giggles, Danny managed to explain himself. “You- You really don’t know the half of it.”

That hadn’t really explained anything to the cops, but Payton coaxed them back to work before they could question Danny. The detective attempted to glare the boy into behaving himself, but failed once more. Now that he knew what the boy had faced off against, he wasn’t surprised.

Finally enough evidence had been gathered. The cops set out, armed with anti-ghost weaponry and ghost-proof cuffs. A cell had been prepared beforehand, covered by a ghost shield provided by FentonWorks. A special one, they assured, which would hold even the most powerful and skilled of ghosts.

Payton double-checked his gear. Then he gave the start signal, allowing his officers to pour into the mansion.

Within minutes the team returned, guiding Vlad Masters in their middle. The man was dressed, as always, in an impeccable suit. He frowned at Payton when his guides stopped him in front of the detective.

“Sir, with all due respect, but what on Earth is happening here?”

Payton offered the man a lopsided smile. Then in one swift movement he cuffed Vlad’s wrists together, preventing his escape.

“Vlad Masters, also known as Vlad Plasmius, you are under arrest for… Well, for a lot of crimes.” His smile grew a little wider, a little more genuine. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, his gaze shifting between his bound wrists and the police officers surrounding them. Payton ignored him, continuing with his whole rights speech.

“Wait, no,” Vlad pleaded. “You must be mistaken- I have never heard of a name like ‘Plasmius’ before.”

“Save it for court.” Payton shoved the man forward, towards the van that would transport him. Several officers, all armed with ectoplasmic weaponry, would ride with him. The cuffs should prevent him from using his powers to escape, but better safe than sorry.

Then he turned towards the rest of the officers still waiting. He inclined his head towards the mansion that stood before them, looming in the approaching dark.

“Well then, let’s see how many sketchy things we can find in here. Sources say that he has an underground lab hidden, like some kind of supervillain.” He grinned at the crowd of police. “First one to find and enter it without disturbing actual evidence gets a reward.”

He clapped his hands together. “Ready, set. Go!”

And then the officers were off, leaving Payton to observe. The boy had been right. Arresting Vlad had been easy, as the man hadn’t expected them in the slightest.

How clever he thought himself. What a sham.

The Summer vacation hadn’t done much to calm Casper High’s rumor mill. The turbulent arrest of ex-mayor Vlad Masters right after the start of said vacation had spurred on all rumors. Not much was known about it, but that didn’t stop the teenagers. They whittled away, discovered the smallest details. Any slip-ups were gladly accepted and brought into the rumors.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise that they discovered that Danny Fenton had been involved as well. Not as a perpetrator, oh no.

As a victim.

Which, of course, combined well with the previous rumors of him being a ghost. It didn’t take long for the first theories to emerge, suggesting that Vlad was his killer. That he had played a critical role in the death of Danny Fenton.

And so when the school year started, against all odds… The rumors hadn’t died off. Quite the opposite. Even more people than before believed that the boy, now in his final year of school, was a ghost.

So they kept their eyes open for his arrival.

Eventually, their wait was rewarded. The doors of the school opened, and in the opening he stood.

Lanky, with unbrushed but shiny black hair. Icy blue eyes that, ironically, sparkled with life. A surprisingly healthy gloss to his pale skin. A playful but kind smile on his face. For once, he looked well-rested. No bags under his eyes.

Perhaps… Perhaps Vlad Masters really had been responsible for his death. Perhaps Danny Fenton could finally rest easy, knowing that the man was finally arrested.

His outfit was much like the usual.

The girl he had his arm wrapped around… much less so.

She, unlike Danny, looked uncertain. Shaky. A red beanie sat perched on her head, but messy black hair still spilled out of it.

Her eyes, blue as the skies, glanced around the entrance hall with vigor. She looked guarded, like she was expecting someone to suddenly attack her.

She had her hands stuck in the pockets of her oversized blue hoodie. A crease in her brow suggested, however, that said hands were clenched into fists.

Standing right next to Danny Fenton, it was very very clear that she looked almost exactly like him. A little younger, perhaps, but undeniably identical.

The crowd parted the let the two through. But they remained nearby, hovering around the two. Waiting. Watching.

In the end, it was Dash Baxter who decided that he’d had enough. He stepped forward, breaking from the line and into the circle of personal space that had been granted to Danny and his… whoever she was.

“Hey Fenton,” he bit, stressing the last name of the ghostly teen. “Who’s this?”

“Oh hey Dash,” Danny greeted as he turned to face the other boy. He pulled the girl next to him a little closer to his side, drawing a displeased hiss from her. “This is Danielle, or Dani.”

“With an i,” the girl muttered under her breath, barely audible.

“Okaaay.” Dash frowned, looking between the two. “That still didn’t answer my question of who she is.”

“Oh, right.” Danny flapped his free hand. “She’s my dead sister.”

Dash froze up, and sharp intakes of breath could be heard from everywhere in the crowd. “She’s your what?”

“My dead sister,” Danny repeated, finally releasing the girl to reach towards his locker. Then he looked over his shoulder at the crowd and grinned.

And stuck his arm right through the still closed locker door.

“Funny how that works, huh?” he said, with his arm still waving through his locker. He looked like was searching for something without being able to see it.

Dani, meanwhile, seemed to have gotten over her nerves. She leaned back against the lockers, standing right next to Danny. She was still eyeing the crowd, however, a little warily.

Soft mutters could be heard from the crowd, but no one had a real response. Sure, everyone had been convinced that Danny was a ghost. Hell, Dash had even seen the boy go intangible before.

But this was undeniable proof. And it was a lot less feeble than a whiffed punch by a jock.

Finally Dash got his thoughts back in order, though. “So why’s she here now?”

“Well,” Danny hummed as he finally pulled his arm out of the locker again. Held in his hand were several books for school. “You guys all knew I was a ghost anyway, so she didn’t have to hide anymore.”

He turned back to face his once-bully with a lopsided grin on his face. Then he shrugged. “Besides, where else is a ghost going to get an education?”

[littlemisssquiggles]

Hello! I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, but have you watched the Alita Battle Angel movie? If not, the synopsys is that an old doctor finds a cyborg bust in a scrapyard of trash that is dumped everyday by the floating city above, called Zalem. In your latest musing you mentioned something about trash being dumped from Atlas. What would you think if Upper Atlas were similar and it would dump trash in a scapyard, in Lower Atlas? And the workers there making use of it however they can?

‘SupYellow.Always a pleasure to hear from you so no worries there fam. Unfortunately I have notseen Alita.But I definitely want to since I’ve heard positive things about it; both themanga and the recent film adaptation. Despite knowing jack about the series, Ido like the idea you present here. 

It wouldn’t surpriseme if something like that were possible with Atlas. It’s funny. Folks keepreferring to Atlas by Upper and Lower. Wouldn't Upper Atlas technically be just Atlas while the lower sector is the remnants of Mantle?

That’swhat I assumed it was. The lower city being Mantle below, unless I am deeplymistaken. I like the idea of Atlas dumping their trashinto Mantle with the People of Mantle living the life of scavengers;only managing to survive due to their resourceful nature by crafting workingmachinery and equipment from whatever scraps of and parts they managed tosalvage and/or pilfer from the junkyards dumped from Atlas.

It’dbe interesting if Atlas has become rather snobbish and discriminatory towardtheir Mantlese brethren over the years to the point that they don’t even donate their broken or unused materials to Mantle’scitadel, only granting them use of whatever they can scavenge from the massivepiles of junk they dump into their kingdom periodically. Like the rich andelite only granting charity to the poor by allowing them to take what they canfrom their trash bins for the week and considering that an act of generosity.

Imagine if … the Atlesians are the typeswho have grown so spoilt from their riches that they no longer see worth in their products anymore. To Atlas, it’s allabout advancement.Forwardever, backward never and when theold outdates the new, the old is disposed of so that the new can rise up andthrive. Take over even and lead them successfully towards a bright future. Itwouldn’t surprise if that is the mantra of Atlas because that is precisely whathappened with Atlas and Mantle’s history. Atlas rose up to the point that it overshadowed Mantle and rather than aid those left behind intheir predecessor kingdom, it seems that Atlas has lost all touch with itsroots.

Allthe more reason why I’m digging the concept of the People of Mantle being scavengers—thegood kind who see worth ineverything around them, since their generations have been forced to survive onso little for so long and thus become more adaptive and more appreciative ofwhat they have and cherish.  And becauseof that, they are able to make wonders with what bit they can use from the UpperWorld.

Thisalso makes me think of a really cool hunch I have concerning Penny Polendina’sfather/creator. For the sake of my musings, I’m going to refer to him as Dr. Japheth Polendina until his official canon name is revealed. If mymemory serves correctly, Gepetto isthe Italian form of the name Japheth whichis a name of Hebrew origin meaning ‘expansion’.  

I think Japheth is afitting pseudo-name for Dr. Polendina since my assumption is that he is a greatand well-renowned scientist and inventor in Atlas whose inventions hascontributed towards the kingdoms’ advancement. Makes sense, right? Beyond that,another theory I have is Dr. Polendina is unlike a lot of Atlesians . Itwouldn’t surprise me if Dr. Polendina, like many from his generation (MariaCalavera and Nicholas Schnee) was born after the Great War and contributedtowards Atlas taking over from Mantle.

Howeverunlike other Atlesians who seem to have discarded theirMantlese heritage and traditions, Dr. Polendina still holds stubbornly onto his.I like the irony of Dr. Polendina being old-fashioned despite being the inventor of so many creationsthat helped Atlas move forward. I think that could be a cool contrast to hischaracter. I like the idea of Dr. Polendina being a smart yet modest and humbleold man (maybe even a lil cuckoo for coco puffs), who doesn’t just create foradvancement but rather help humanity because he genuinely sees wonder and value in everything around him. Despite it being a traditionhis younger associates don’t understand and have tried to beat out of him foryears, y’know since they all mostly consider him a fossil and only keep himaround for his unique genius. Nonetheless Dr. Polendina sees worth in everything—includinga lifeless robotic husk he treated and loved like a daughter. That’s my theoryfor Dr. Polendina if you or anyone who were ever curious.

Ithink an anon-ninja once asked me what elements of Gepetto/Pinocchio I think will be incorporated in V7. Well I thinkthat’s one of them. I’d love to think that Japheth also shares a history with Arthur Watts.I can’t help this nagging hunch I have that Arthur Watts was probably the formerapprentice of Dr. Polendina who he loved like a son.

Inthe Pinocchio tale, Geppetto was an elderly woodcarver whoseemed to not have any former children of his own hence why he createdPinocchio and wished for him to be a real boy.

Imagine if it was the same for Dr.Polendina. Whatif… Japheth was a man who had dedicated his life so much toadvancing Atlas that he never got the chance to have the thing he wanted morethan anything—a family or at least someone to love him like one. Picture Japheth living a depressing life where he losttouch with his former family in Mantle and the closest thing to a family he hadin Atlas was a former apprentice who he cherished like the child he never had whoended up betrayinghim before disappearing entirely,believed to be dead (i.e. Dr. Arthur Watts) and lastly, Penny—the android heloved like a daughter but also ultimately lost.

Ican go on and on about my theories for Dr. Polendina but that’s the theory Imainly wish to share here. As you brought up Alita, it made me think ofsomething interesting. I have this Penny-centric theorywhere as soon as our heroes arrive in Atlas, they soon discover, much toRuby’s shock and disgust that Penny was made into a line of sentient service androidswho was being mass produced and sold to the People of Atlas.

Picture Detroit Become Human but with just Penny asthe sole android series. RWBY Chibi S2 kindof teased the concept of Penny being sold as a doll. So what ifthat will be the case for V7? What if…in current Atlas, Penny is now a popular brand of service androiddolls sold to the Atlesian public to perform many different roles insociety. Picture Penny being like the Barbie Doll of Atlas exceptthat she’s a life-sized sentient machine. Picture all kinds of Penny models beingsold each programmed with a series of different functions tailor made to fitwhatever role her user/buyer bought her to perform.

Imagine Ruby standing in acity populated with different Pennies—-Waitress Penny, Nurse Penny, Traffic Cop Penny, TourGuide Penny, etc.—who all look and sound just like Ruby’s Pennybut isn’t her. And what’s even more horrifying to Ruby is what Penny’s legacyhas dissolved into. Back in V3 I believe, Penny told Ruby that she wasoriginally made to protect Remnant. She was made to be a hero. The first of her kind tobe used to protect humanity.

Imagine howmuch of an insult it would be if this is what Ruby finds out Atlasdid to her friend after she was murdered. Not remember her as a hero butbasically a living toy to beused and abused as her consumers feel.

That’sinsane!Which is all the more reason why I want this theory to come true. I was askedlong ago by a FNDM fam about how Ruby would feel if she saw Penny locked away insidesome pod inside a laboratory. I never got around to actually answering that questionbecause Tumblr buried the original response post I was going to edit. If thatuser happens to read all of my answer posts, here is my answer to your questionnow.

Rubyreacting to a rebuilt Penny being locked safely inside a pod? Ahahaa! How about I giveyou something grimmer?

Ontop of Atlas mass producing Penny and treating her like a plaything rather than the heroshe was meant to be, you wanna know my theory for what they did with originalPenny?

Myhunch is that originalPenny is put in the trash. Meaningthat after her body was returned to Atlas, there was a meeting between themembers of the Atlas Council debating on whether or not the military projectPenny was born from should be terminated or not. Even though Ironwood is the mainauthoritarian from Atlas that we’ve met so far, I’d like to think there is another topleader calling the shots whoIronwood actually serves under.

Ifthe Atlas Council is anything like Vale’s, then there are at least threemembers on the council governing the Kingdom. From what I remember back in V4,Ironwood says he holds two seats on the council. This leaves the third and lastseat and it’s here where I think we’ll have a new authoritarian character who Ironwoodlistens to.

Basicallyit was this Atlas Council Member introduced and signed off on the idea ofturning Penny into a doll to be sold to the public.  I don’t know of any puppet masters in any knownfairy tales but perhaps this Councilman, as I’ll refer to him in mymusings, could be based off of the Coachman from Pinocchio. In the 1883 book TheAdventures of Pinocchio, the Coachman was a villain who kidnapped children tobring them to Toy Island in which the bad children turned into donkeys.

IfFNDM fam thought General Ironwood was a cross due to his deep authoritarian waysand leadership then imagine someone worse than Ironwoodbut lacking the compassion. Picture… the Councilman being the type to make ajackass out of the General Ironwood since Ironwood generally has torun everything by him and the Councilman has Ironwood wrapped around his pinkie,especially now that he hasn’t been well—psychologically. I actually kinda digthis idea.

Sothe Councilman convinces Ironwood that the best way to dissolve the mess the Vytalescapade left on the military and the People of Atlas following Beacon is to turnPenny into a doll series—allowing her to fulfil the purpose she was made for.Serving humanity by serving humanity as a service doll. There are even Penniesbeing used by the military.

WhileDr. Polendina wouldn’t sign off on something like this—imagine it being oneof those uncomfortable scenarios where one’s hand is forced because they arebacked into a corner by people trying to either bullyor manipulate them. In the case of Japheth, it was both theCouncilman trying to bully him into doing his job for the military and Ironwood,though sympathetic towards the doctor and his loss, still trying to somewhatemotionally manipulate the man into doing as he and the Councilman ordered byusing Penny and the reasons she was made in the first place as his motive.

It’snot a nice game but in the end, against his wishes, Dr. Polendina had no choicebut to hand over his research and the original body of Penny and concur as themilitary—mainly the Councilman did what they pleased with her.

Andin the end, once they were done, they didn’t even have the common courtesy toreturn Penny to her father. Instead, like many things in Atlas, Penny wasdiscarded and her remains ended up in the junkyards near Mantle. I even have away RWBY canincorporate Monstro into the Atlas Arc. You know how in Pinocchio,Gepetto got swallowed by the giant whale?

Wellwhat if…at some point, the heroes visit Lower Atlas on their voyage towards Mantle. Mytheory is that at some point during the Schnee Family Affairsstoryline of the Atlas Arc, Weiss will go in search of her missing grandfatherNicholas Schnee and her searches will take her and her friends down from Atlasinto Mantle’s depth. During their voyage, the group end up in the junkyardsbelow.

Apparently,people aren’t allowed to go in the junkyards. Part of it is due to Atlas being stingy towards Mantle even with their junk and anotheris for the reason that there is a massive Grimm known to roam the junkyards.That monster is GrimmMonstro—a colossal land whale type Grimm that burrows undergroundand swims through the sea of garbage in the junk piles looking for anyunsuspecting victims to rise up and swallow.

I have this idea where Ruby andOscar are swallowed alive by Grimm Monstro and it’s in the belly of the Grimm where Ruby discovers Penny’s originaldestroyed body. Perhaps…as a better alternative, that’s how she and Oscargot swallowed in the first place. Ruby spots OG Penny while in the junkyard.Goes off on her own to retrieve her despite Oscar’s initial warnings that somethingfelt off about the junkyard however Ruby ignores hisadvice. Ruby makes it to Penny’s body in time for Grimm Monstro to rise up.Oscar jumps in to rescue Ruby. The two try their best to outrun the giant Grimmbut end up getting swallowed alive. That could be FREAKING EPIC!

Little Red Riding Hood and PrincessOzma working together to escape Monstroand save themselves plus Pinocchio is a future RWBY episodeI’d love to see for Atlas. YES PLEASE! Sign my ass up!

Andif all that comes true, we could even get Ruby and Oscar working together to revive original Penny.

Ifmy theory about Oscarawakening his inner mechanic and inventor comes to fruition, imagine Ruby begging Oscar to help her revive her formerfriend using his skills. Knowing and fully understanding how much this means toRuby, Oscar accepts and the two rosebuds get to work together. I would lovethis so much!

Ithink this could be really cool especially if after Penny gets successfully restoredthrough Oscar’s know-how, she starts calling Oscar ‘brother’. I’ll give you three veryimportant reasons why I love this idea.

Firstly,I’ve seen some fans comparing Oscar to Penny so me, being the proud Pinehead and Polendiva (Penny Polendina fan) that I amstarted to dig the idea of Penny and Oscar having a brother-sister dynamic.Like after Oscar helps rebuild her, Penny starts treating him like he was her big brother.Not father since Dr. Japheth is her father.

Secondly,I like Penny calling Oscar ‘brother’ because of the obvious, very on the nosecall back to FMA. Come on! You know how much I love those.

Andlastly, I love this idea because it appeals to another Pinehead headcanon I have where Oscar becomes an apprentice under Dr. Polendina anddevelops a father/son bond with the old inventor. I did say I wantedOscar to have a godmother type character who adopts him in Atlas. Perhapsinstead of a fashion designer, it’s an genius inventor who acts as hisgodfather.

Penny andDr. Polendina both adopting Oscar into their family = HELLA FREAKING YES.

You know my mantra. #EverybodyAdoptsOscar

I’dlove to expand more on this idea some more but I think I’ll save it for anothermusing. This response post is long enough. But for what it’s worth, I hope youlike my answer Yellow.Let me know what you think if you can pretty please. Would like to hear yourthoughts on my thoughts.

~LittleMissSquiggles(2019)

[turtle-steverogers]

Blackened Lungs

i was gonna do a mini greaser au but then this idea came to me instead

warnings: smoking, death mentions

ships: platonic ralbert mostly, but sprace is there for like a second

editing: nah 

“Hey, Race,” Albert cracked open the door to Race’s bedroom to find it empty.  He furrowed his eyebrows, confused.  Race’s shoes had been by the door, he was definitely home.  

The longer he stood there, the tenser the atmosphere seemed to get.  Something was off, but he couldn’t tell what.  He stepped further into the room and wrinkled his nose as the smell hit.  The acrid scent of tobacco drifted throughout the room, causing Albert’s eyes to water.  He frowned, backing out of the room before the sour odor could latch onto him.  The pungent stench of cigarettes hadn’t plagued their apartment since Race had quit smoking half a year earlier.  He peeked his head out to the living room in case he had missed Race asleep on the couch, but there was still no sign of his roommate.  

He jumped when a door opened down the hallway and he craned his neck to see Race, padding out of the bathroom, holding a towel around his waist.  His hair was mussed up from drying it and still obviously damp in some places.  There were dark circles around his eyes and he hadn’t seemed to notice Albert as he crossed to his bedroom.  He startled when he spotted Albert standing near his door and immediately moved to cover himself before he remembered he was wearing a towel.  From where he stood, Albert could smell Race’s strong lavender body wash- the kind he only used when he was about to go on a date with Spot.  Or trying to hide the smell of smoke.  Albert could infer which one it was.

“Heya, Al,” Race said, putting on a tight smile, “What’s up?”

Albert bit his lip, trying to remember what he had intended to ask Race in the first place, “Uh,” he blinked, coming back to himself, “Oh, yeah, Jack wanted to know if we could bring the beer to movie night tonight.”

Race shrugged nonchalantly, “Sure, I think we have an extra case on top of the fridge.”

“Perfect,” Albert said, distractedly, “Are you okay?” He asked, avoiding asking Race about the cigarette smell directly.  He knew from experience that that wouldn’t get him anywhere.

Race’s eyes flashed imperceptibly, and if Albert didn’t know his best friend as well as he did, he would have missed it, “Yeah, I’m cool,” Race said, shortly, “Lemme change, then we’ll leave.”

He left no room for further discussion as he shut the door to his bedroom.  Albert hesitated in the doorway for a moment, debating whether or not to push the subject, before deciding against it and turning to walk to the kitchen.  As predicted, there was a full case of Budweiser on top of the fridge and Albert stood on his tiptoes in order to hoist it down.  It wasn’t the highest quality beer, so Albert grabbed the half-full bottle of Pinot Noir that they kept handy as well.  Race came out of his bedroom, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.  He had a pair of cryptid print socks on and was carrying his converse in one hand and a fidget cube in the other.  His shoulders were drawn up ever so slightly.  He was tense.  Albert couldn’t help the worry that was slowly consuming his mind.  What was wrong with Race?

Race planted himself on the kitchen floor, placing down his fidget cube momentarily in favor of slipping on his shoes.  Albert waited until Race stood back up, the usual bounce in his actions gone.  He wordlessly grabbed the wine bottle from Albert and the two of them left for Jack’s, Albert toeing on his own shoes before leaving.

They made casual conversation in the car, but nothing compared to their usual banter.  Race was furiously clicking his fidget cube the entire car ride, which was driving Albert insane if he was being honest.  But Race clearly needed to fiddle with it more than Albert needed his patience, so he bit his tongue.

As soon as they arrived at Jack’s, Race’s rigid demeanor dropped.  Or it seemed to, but as Albert watched him interact with their friends throughout the night, hints to his unstable mood were slipping through his facade.  He’d winced at every loud noise in the bad horror movie they were watching and when Spot tried to put his arm around him, as he usually did, Race flinched away.  Albert could see Spot cast a concerned glance at his boyfriend, but Race kept his eyes transfixed on the movie, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere.  The movie finished and Katherine pulled out several board games for the group.  Albert went to the kitchen to retrieve the wine and they enjoyed some lighthearted competition, accentuated by the pleasant buzz of alcohol.

“Hey, did y’all hear about that guy who broke outta jail?” Jack asked at one point during a game of Sorry.  Race was suddenly very interested in his glass of wine.  

“Oh yeah, the uh, the one that killed his wife and child a while back?” Crutchie asked, toying with the game cards.

“Yeah, I think so,” Jack said, “Apparently he like, went batshit and choked one of the guards, then dipped before anyone could even blink.”

Race had visibly paled by now, but no one else seemed to notice besides Albert, not even Spot.  

“That’s wild as fuck,” Spot mumbled, “I hope they find him soon.”

Race stood abruptly, earning a few questioning looks from the group.  He downed the rest of his glass in one gulp, before saying, “Be right back,” and leaving down the hall without another word.

Spot and Albert glanced at one another, a silent question echoing between them.

After a moment, Albert stood too, “I’ll go.”

Spot nodded and Albert walked in the direction that Race had disappeared in.  It took him a few minutes, but he eventually found the other man on the fire escape, legs dangling over the ledge.  He had one arm braced above him on the scaffolding and the other pressed underneath his thigh.  A cigarette dangled from his lips, the burning end glowing in the darkness.

Albert sat down next to his friend, who didn’t acknowledge him.

“So you have been smoking again,” Albert said after a beat.  It wasn’t a question.

Race simply hummed.  Albert spared a glimpse at him, trying to read his expression, but his head was turned the other way.

“It’s bad for your lungs, you know.”

Race let out a humourless laugh, a puff of smoke billowing into the air with his exhale, “People always tell me that like I don’t know it.”

There was another tense pause as Race took another drag, turning his head to look in front of him again.

“What’s wrong?” Albert asked.  

Unsurprisingly, Race didn’t answer straight away, but Albert waited patiently nonetheless.

“The guy who broke out of jail is my dad,” The statement was made in a monotone voice, yet it sent chills down Albert’s spine.

The momentary fear was replaced immediately with confusion, “Wait a minute, I know your dad.  I’ve met him.”

“You’ve met my adopted dad.  My real one killed my mother and little sister when I was eight.  I got out unharmed, but I watched him do it.  No one knows I was there.  Not even the police.”

Albert sat in stunned silence as the words sunk in.  He tried to think of something to say, but all that came out was, “I didn’t know you were adopted.”

Race shook his head, extinguishing his cigarette on the metal bar before flicking it off the fire escape, “None of you did.  I didn’t tell anyone, not even Spot, because I never wanted to associate with that man again.” He was speaking calmly, but the disgust and anger in his voice was noticeable.

“I’m so sorry,” Albert murmured.

Race was quiet, his head now resting on his arms.  For a brief moment, Albert wondered if Race was crying, but when he spoke, his voice came out steady, “I’m scared.  Terrified.”  The magnitude of his words were not reflected in his matter-of-fact tone.

Albert pursed his lips, “I can only imagine what you must be feeling.”

Race hummed again and reached into his jacket pocket with shaking hands, pulling out his box of cigarettes, as well as his lighter.

“But you gotta stop that,” Albert said, nodding to the cigarette Race had just pulled out.

“I know,” Race mumbled, “I fucking know and I’m mad at myself for doing it, because it took so much of me to quit, but…” he trailed off, shaking his head.  This time when he spoke, there was a waver in his voice, “I don’t know how else to deal.”

His hands were shaking so hard now that it was a wonder how he was still holding the cigarettes.  Albert carefully reached over and took the items out of Race’s hands, placing the cigarette that Race had taken out back in its original spot.

“We can figure this out, man,” Albert said, shifting to face Race, “I’m here for you- we’re here for you.  I know the others don’t know, and I’m not asking you to tell them anything that would make you uncomfortable, but we’re here to help you.”

Race drew in a shaky breath, “I don’t want him to find me,” his voice was small and vulnerable and so unlike the Race that Albert knew.  It was frightening.

“He can’t do anything to you,” Albert assured him, trying to convince him, “I promise I won’t let him.”

Race nodded, scooting over to bury his head in the crook of Albert’s neck.  Albert put a protective arm around him.

“Can you not tell the others?” Race asked against his skin, “I may talk to Spot about it tomorrow or something, but…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Albert promised, “But I swear I’m here.”

“I’m sorry I smoked,” Race said, ashamed.

“I’m not mad or anything,” Albert said, “I can understand that you’re going through something hard and trying best to deal in a way you know that works, but I just don’t want you hurting yourself, dude.  Do you think you can try and stay away from them from here on out?  Come find me when you’re nervous instead?”

Race pulled away and Albert was shocked to see that he had been crying, “Yeah, I’ll try.  Thank you, Al.”

Albert squeezed his arm reassuringly, “We’ll get through this.”

Race nodded, wiping at his face, “We will.”

-

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[violetlunette]

Ten Tropes/Cliches I Love

So while we all like to talk about tropes/cliches we hate, I don’t see enough lists where we talk about tropes/cliches we like, so I decided to make a list of ten Tropes/Cliches that I love in story telling. This isn’t a top ten list as these are out of order and I know that when I post this I’ll remember something I like better than these, so this is just a list of ten things I like, not top ten, but ten. Anywho, let’s begin!

Ten Tropes/Cliches I Love

Hero from a mundane world tossed into a magical one / Average Joe: Oddly enough this is my favorite trope; I love a hero from the mundane world being tossed into a world or strange oddities and whatnot. I then like to see how they react—do they excitedly embrace the magic, scared of it, determined to ignore it, etc. The issue I have is that the mundane hero is usually displayed as useless and just follows their companions around. Naturally the hero would—and should be overwhelmed, but they should have growth throughout the story and should have some skills that could be helpful, or a new way of looking at things.

Royalty / Chosen One: Everyone harps on these two, but I kinda like them—if done right. I admit they’ve been done to death, but it’s a guilty pleasure I suppose.

The idea of being someone special appeals to a lot of people and honestly I like seeing people react differently to their destiny, whatever it is. Some are like “oh hell nah!” or “YAY! I’m special—oh shit, is that blood?!” or just “WTF” and I like seeing them all.

And I like princesses. I like Queens too, but as a kid I liked princesses more because to child me princess= child ruler with power while Queen = dead parents and/or adult. Back then all princess were to me were just kid Queens who would become Queens after they were crowned and the parents were dead / unable to rule, or the whole journey was to become a queen. (Sort of a metaphor for going from a kid to an adult.)

There’s an argument princesses are anti-femenist, but I disagree. While there are a lot of mediums in the media that shows princesses as useless damsels there’s even more where the Princess is a leader who does just as much, if not more, as a hero. The only reason they’re not Queens is because a) they’re in a middle of a war so there’s no time for a coronation to officially crown them or b) a king or Queen is still alive. Sometimes they’re evil, but still they’re the rulers. Hell, if you ask me it the other royals who get a worse hand.

Think about it; Queens are dead, evil/insane, or not mentioned, kings are useless idiots, dead, or evil, and princes are just the reward who swoops in at the end and hardly even get a name. Princesses at least have a variety and are more well rounded than the rest.

Also I like pretty dresses and crowns (yes, I’m that girl. I like pretty outfits. There will be a list eventually).

Suave/charming eccentric sidekick/mentor: I just love suave, charming characters like Jack Sparrow (Pirates Of The Caribbean) and RGB (Property of Hate)—however I hesitate to make them the focus of a story due to the 4&5th of POTC (I don’t care for them). Nonetheless I like seeing these characters as a mentor and friend who helps the hero adapt to a new world. They’re fun to watch and they’re an entertaining way to show us the world and how they work.

Family plays a Role in the Story: I love stories were family members are actually apart of the story (and not just they died, or are basically back ground filler.). I mean, they don’t have to be apart of the main cast, but I like them to be apart of the story.

Sadly, story lines like this are usually put on back burner or background in favor of “romance” or large fight scenes.

OUAT did this great at first where Emma doesn’t know how to react to her parents and was even mad that they chose to send her away to play hero (even though I just thought they did that to save her, destiny be damned). I especially loved how she had to build relationship with them and how they address the tragedy of how the Charmings didn’t get to be apart of Emma’s childhood.

However, this plot got sidelined by the romance arcs in later seasons, and not just Emma’s. (Btw, is it just me or did Snow grow distant from Emma once baby Neal was born?)

I also like seeing siblings work together, step, twins, etc—except younger siblings. Stories do not treat younger siblings well. They’re usually brats, antagonists, or hostages for later.

Magical world and creatures: Not much to say about this; I love dragons, unicorns, fae, and monsters and I like seeing new magical worlds like Wonderland, Oz, Narnia, and the Harry Potter world. Our world is boring. Unless Urban fantasy is involved and even then it’s the magical creatures that make it fun.

Villains that are actually villains and know it: Everyone hates villains who are just evil for the sake of being evil, but to me I actually LOVE these villains much better than the “gray” villains. The reason being is that they’re allowed to have FUN being evil and therefore memorable. My favorite Disney villains are Maleficent, Ursula, Hook, Jafar and Dr. Falcifer. Why? Because they’re allowed to be bad. They didn’t need a tragic backstory or complicated political views, they had power and they knew it. They embraced it and allowed themselves to have fun and be flamboyant. Hell. It even made villains like Maleficent more frightening because she had so much power she wanted to use she actively sought out excuses to use it for her own entertainment, such as not getting invited to a party.

I know it’s unrealistic and can make a character feel flat, but when a story gives a baddie a backstory it spends a lot of time trying to make us feel bad for the baddie instead of enjoying them AS the baddie.

Knight in Shining Armor: Guilty pleasure. But I like the drama of the Main character being captured, but being saved by their loved ones. And I know others do too because whenever someone starts a head canon blog one of the most common questions are, “what would the Ros do if their SO was kidnapped?” So don’t try to play that, ‘it’s not empowering’ card with me!

That being said, I only like it when the scenario is done right; Like, I don’t like how Mario always has to save Peach because we’ve seen her pawn Bowser so many times and she gets kidnapped often enough where she should get the hint to A) Get better security or B) Lock Bowser up for multiple kidnappings and conquest. I mean I like Peach, but still. That being said I do find it heartwarming to see how for Mario goes to save the ones he cares about and that’s why I like this trope. I love seeing how much the hero loves the person they’re saving and the lengths they go to make sure they’re safe.

The Masquerade: I like the idea of there being a secret hidden world under our noses and seeing how the magic people hide it. There’s also the appeal of being in on the secret. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel a lot of the fun’s gone from a story when the secret’s out.

Power McGuffin: I like shiny things like necklaces, rings, etc. And magic items? Gimmie! The best example is the One Ring from the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. I love the lore and how it has a will of it’s own and how it manipulates minds—it’s just a ring, yet it’s also a conniving villain as well. Oh, and the power of invisibility and possibly more helps.

The Mystery/Journey plots: I like stories that ether have a mystery or a quest in them. Mysteries because of the feel they give and the pride when you solve it (unless the writer cheats), and the Quest as the journey is more about the character building and their relationships.

And those are ten (not top ten) Cliches/Tropes I like! I may do another in the future, but for now let me know your favorites tropes cliches/or what you think about this.

[shtcablogs]

Royal Wedding Face-Off

2018 - the year of Royal Weddings. Princess Eugenie got married this past weekend, and Rachel Zane married the UK’s #1 most eligible bachelor in May. How do these two weddings compare to Princess Kate and Prince William’s wedding back in 2011? Let’s find out. I’ll be using twelve categories to determine who had the best wedding. 3 points for the category winner, 2 for second place, and 1 point for the loser. The bride with the most overall points is the official Royal Wedding Queen (although we all know who the real queen is here - quite literally Kate Middleton).

1. Wedding Dress

Are long sleeves a royal wedding dress requirement? Probably. Either way I’m a huge fan. I do love all three dresses, so this is a hard choice. Eugenie’s is a little ill-fitting, especially through the sleeves. Meghan’s is very chic, but not quite “royal” enough in my opinion (and Prince George’s). Kate looks like a dream, going to have to give her this one.

Kate (3 points)

Meghan (2 points)

Eugenie (1 point)

2. Train

The best part of a royal wedding dress is the train, obviously. Meghan and Eugenie both had an advantage here as they got married at the same venue with that large staircase, perfect for train photos. Although Meghan’s train was underwhelming compared to Kate and Eugenie’s, her veil was extremely long and dramatic. But, I’m giving this one to Eugenie because I LOVE a huge bow.

Eugenie (3 points)

Kate (2 points)

Meghan (1 point)

3. Accessories

Let’s see the royal bling. I’m really digging Eugenie’s emeralds. Very unique and refreshing, but also classically royal. First place. I’m going to have to give Kate last place here because those earrings are a little basic (well, as basic as diamonds can be).

Eugenie (3 points)

Meghan (2 points)

Kate (1 point)

4. Bouquet

Is it just me or do all of these bouquets suck? They’re puny and cheap looking in my opinion. Maybe the British aren’t as into flowers as we are? Whatever the reason, I’m bored by these. I’d give them all last place if I could.

Eugenie (3 points)

Kate (2 points)

Meghan (1 point)

5. Hair and Make-Up

If you think Kate doesn’t have this category in the bag, you’re dead wrong. Perfect skin, perfect hair, a true princess. Meghan’s hairdo caught a lot of flak, but I think her make-up looks stunning. I’m pretty indifferent over Eugenie’s hair, and I think she has on way too much blush. Also let’s be honest, your make-up is only going to look as good as the canvas you put it on, and Eugenie just can’t compete with Kate and Meghan in the looks department.

Kate (3 points)

Meghan (2 points)

Eugenie (1 point)

6. The Groom

A balding future king, a red-headed party boy, and a cute commoner. I guess it really depends what you’re looking for here, as these three men are all very different. Prince Harry looks pretty swaggy in his all-black uniform, and Prince William looks like a real badass despite his receding hairline. Jack Brooksbank is a cutie, but he’s got some stiff competition unfortunately. I’m giving this one to Meghan.

Meghan (3 points)

Kate (2 points)

Eugenie (1 point)

7. Wedding Party

I love that Brits have kid bridesmaids and page boys instead of what us Americans would think of as a traditional wedding party. Of course, Pippa Middleton was the breakout star of William and Kate’s wedding (probably only because George and Charlotte weren’t born yet, though). Meghan’s page boys are really freaking me out in those long black coats. On the other hand, Charlotte is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Are Eugenie’s bridesmaids and page boys wearing... Lilly Pulitzer? A lot to digest here. I’m giving this one to Kate.

Kate (3 points)

Eugenie (2 points)

Meghan (1 point)

8. Engagement Ring

Another difficult category, I’m in love with all three. If I have to pick a winner, I’m going with Kate. I love the huge sapphire and the fact that this was Princess Diana’s ring. Meghan’s is a little basic compared to the other two, but it’s GIANT and gorgeous nonetheless. Eugenie’s is beautiful and pink (my favorite color), but it’s too similar to Kate’s to really knock me off my feet.

Kate (3 points)

Meghan (2 points)

Eugenie (1 point)

9. Carriage Procession

Not gonna lie, I think Eugenie’s enclosed carriage is pretty baller. Supposedly she planned to ride in an open carriage and had a last minute switch due to windy conditions. Kate and William looked a little stiff in their carriage procession, but picturesque nonetheless. They’re the future King and Queen of England, so it’s automatically iconic. I will say that Meghan and Harry looked genuinely happy during their carriage ride, probably because she was trying way too damn hard. Giving this one to Eugenie for previously mentioned baller carriage.

Eugenie (3 points)

Kate (2 points)

Meghan (1 point)

10. Reception Dress

I am living for Eugenie’s blush Zac Posen reception dress. She really knocked that one out of the park. Meghan’s dress is fun and chic, although ill-fitting. Her tailor needs to be fired. Kate’s is very pretty, but I can’t get over that fuzzy white jacket. It really ruins the whole look for me. Eugenie wins this one by a long shot.

Eugenie (3 points)

Meghan (2 points)

Kate (1 point)

11. VIP Guests

Cara Delevingne has been the talk of the town this weekend for her royal wedding outfit, rightfully so. And you know you’ve made it when George and Amal Clooney show up to your wedding. The most interesting people I could find that attended Kate and Will’s wedding were Victoria and David Beckham, but they were also at Meghan and Harry’s, so nothing too special there. Does Posh Spice ever enjoy anything she does? I’d bet not.

Eugenie (3 points)

Meghan (2 points)

Kate (1 point)

12. Official Photos

Kate and William’s official wedding photo is insanely creepy. They look like they belong in Madame Tussauds Wax Museum. Meghan and Harry’s photo is so cute I could die. I can assure you I’ll be recreating this exact photo at my wedding, whenever that may be. I also love Eugenie and Jack’s photo, mainly because it’s in the carriage that I love so much. This one goes to Meghan hands down.

Meghan (3 points)

Eugenie (2 points)

Kate (1 point)

Let’s tally up.

3rd place with 22 points: Meghan Markle. Not surprising, you can’t just throw an American into the royal family and expect things to go off without a hitch. Her wedding was the most modern, but is that what the people want from a royal wedding? Not particularly. Meghan’s highlight: her groom. Meghan’s downfall: definitely her hair and the creepy page boy outfits.

2nd place with 24 points: Kate Middleton. Kate’s wedding was as classically royal as you can get, but I wish she would’ve loosened up a little. Kate and Meghan could’ve learned a lot from each other. Kate’s highlight: Her dress and overall look. Kate’s downfall: that fuzzy reception jacket and her stiff photos.

And the royal wedding winner with 26 points is...

PRINCESS EUGENIE

I guess it’s true that royal blood means better taste. I’m not surprised. Eugenie’s wedding was the perfect mix of elegant and chic. Eugenie’s highlight: her jewelry and reception dress. Oh, and Cara Delevingne really helped, too. Her downfall: the commoner she married. Congrats, princess.

God save the Queen.

[thepheonixesorphanage]

30 Day OC Challenge

So my friends and I decided to do a 30 OC Challenge just for fun! I’ve decided to post the first 10 days here. Feel free to read and give me any feedback. I’d love criticism or comments on what you think of them. Very much looking to improve on my writing.

Days 1-10 below the cut. 

DAY 1: Introduction

Elliot was red. She was cherry lollipops and red vans. Her skin was tan and freckled like constellations, but inside she was burning a dark red that was hot to the touch. Her personality singed skin and left marks that you wanted to show off. With determination and confidence, she owned herself and didn’t let anyone forget that. She was a touch of spice you didn’t know you wanted until you got a taste. And it burned. But oh was it just right. Elliot Katherine Demarco. Even her name rolled off the tongue like waterfalls crashing onto rocks, or the sheathing of a newly forged blade. She was the jump out of an airplane, the start of an avalanche, the build up of adrenaline, and you couldn’t get enough.

June was just as June as her name portrayed her to be. She was vibrant in an array of colors only she could see and outgoing like a bird eager to take flight. She was dark skinned with soft edges that made you want to get lost, with hair just as all over the place as she was. A standard unto her own that no one could take. Her mind was scattered, tangled in thought and question that never seemed to stop. She was warm summer nights that left imprints of curiosity and wonder, a desire unspoken on the tip of the tongue. Her dark brown eyes were filled with a never ending burst of excitement and fascination that you didn’t want to look away from. June was warm, sweet, intoxicating, and everyone craved more.

DAY 2: Job

Lulu’s Cafe was that small coffee shop in downtown San Francisco. It had a cute hipster vibe on the outside with a calm rustique charm on the inside that was always thriving during lunch time no matter the day. Lulu’s cafe was the place that attracted the young teens and hipster wannabes. Mason was made for Lulu’s. A coffee enthusiast, with a love for the simple things in life, and not to mention, a hipster girls wet dream. Mason was a doc martin’s, plaid shirt and leather jacket kind of guy, complete with a close shave and thick, wavy, brown hair.

The customers loved Mason. His customer service routine was equipped with big smiles, laughter, and pleasant conversations between him and the guests. This is what made him so good at his job. Everything he did was genuine. But that’s the kind of guy Mason was. Lulu’s was happy to have Mason, and Mason was happy to have Lulu’s.

Monty’s theater was a fifty plus year old theater in the heart of San Francisco with the charm of a typical grandmother’s home. The type of home with a bowl of strawberry candies and pillow mints that no one knew where they came from or how long they had been there for. The theater smelt of fresh popcorn and at times, the vague lemony scent of furniture polish. As anything over fifty years would be, it was falling apart, with its fading carpet that looked like it belonged in a blockbuster video store, and cabinets that were barely hanging on to its last nail. Even though the theater was a bit “outdated”, to Kam, it was home. Or at least a second home. He had become close friends with the people he worked with and enjoyed his time there. Even though the pay wasn’t the best, Kam treasured the small theater for the people he met and the coworkers he had befriended, and goddammit, he knew he would be stuck there forever.

DAY 3: Hobbies

June spent 90% of her time with Jamie her best friend. At school, after school, before school, at home. They did everything from getting coffee to sleeping over to sneaking out at night. June typically had free range to do whatever she wanted when it came to her dad as long as it wasn’t illegal and she was home before 11pm. June often followed Jamie around after school. Instead of doing her homework she had taken to accompanying him to his improv practices in drama club on tuesdays and thursdays. Every other day, she spent the remainder of her time in her room either watching tv or “attempting” to do homework with Jamie. When Jamie was busy, June didn’t really know what to do besides watch TV or sit on the computer. Hobbies weren’t something she picked up on. Sure she didn’t mind reading but her attention span didn’t really allow her to sit for too long on one thing.

DAY 4: Family

Adopted from Hawaii just after birth, June was very much loved by her mother Stella and her father Aaron. Or so June thought. Four years later, June began to wonder how much her mother really loved her when she left them for another man and his family. Over the next 13 years, her mother kept in contact with her father but June wanted nothing to do with her. So much so she purposely went by June, the abbreviated form of her middle name Juniper, instead of her first name Stella; of course named after her mother. Just saying it was like vile in the back of her throat. June however, loved her father very much. He worked long and hard hours as an accountant to provide for her and gave her a wonderful life full of everything she could want and she saw that everyday when he came home from work with tired eyes. It was just the two of them, and that was how she liked it.

Two older brothers, one younger, her grandmother, a rather young mother and father, and of course, Elliot. The Demarco household was always full. Together Elliot and her family lived in a tiny trailer park that barely housed the lot of them but nonetheless, they made it work. There was never a dull moment. Noah and Liam, the two oldest fought over the dumbest of things. “Those are my fucking socks!” Liam would shout. “We have the same fucking pair!” Noah would shout back. Their mother would simply shake her head. The youngest Ben was always going on about the latest fad or interest. One week would be painting, the next would be basketball. Her grandmother, Camille, hogged the one tv they owned in the living room, always watching TLC or HGTV. Between that, or talking to her friend Janice on the landline from her weekly knitting club. John and Theresa, Elliot’s parents worked early in the morning and came home in the afternoon. Family time was important to them and even though they didn’t have a lot of money, they were happy. It was crazy and loud, and sometimes Elliot thought she’d go insane, but it was home nonetheless.

DAY 5: Friends

June was rather well known in school for her loud and funny personality. She didn’t care what people thought and loved making people laugh. She had a few people she might consider friends but they weren’t really the friends she went to for things or asked to hangout with on a daily basis. Jamie however, was her best friend. Like her, he too, didn’t care what anyone thought and just like her, had a big mouth, except he didn’t have a filter. They were the comedy duo of Ulysses Memorial High School. Jamie was openly gay and proud. He wore collared shirts buttoned at the top with pants in various patterns that changed depending on the day of the week. Every conversation he had usually consisted of, “So listen hoe,” or “Honey you did not?”, and 90% of the time, “Okay sunshine, calm down.” Sunshine was his nickname for June. No real reason in particular. Jamie happened to say it one day and it just stuck. He was the God of nicknames. June tried one day by calling him the “Full Moon” to her ���Sunshine”.

“Are you calling me fat? Juniper Martell, calling her best friend full to his face. Okay hoe, I see.” Needless to say it didn’t catch on. Despite the terrible nickname, their friendship was like that of the sun and the moon. They both came with a strong force that brought them closer and no matter what came at them, they would always be there for each other.

It was Linda, Martin, Chris, Jack, and Elliot. Always together, anywhere in town, anytime of day. Besides school of course. Elliot shared a class with all of them except Martin, but they spent enough time outside of school that it didn’t matter. Most of the time they could be found in The Main, a small part of town where a lot of the local businesses were located, one in particular being Fun Center USA, their favorite. Linda and Martin always competed for the top score on Space Invaders. This typically took hours with a small crowd joining in to see the new record. Jack talked to the girls that came in on friday nights, and when there were no girls dumb enough to feed into what he had to say, he hit up the arcade. Elliot and Chris went straight to the batting cages. There was nothing like the rush of the impact and the sting of the bat in their hands. Seeing the ball shoot across the field made Elliot’s adrenaline pump and they constantly fought to see who could hit the ball harder and farther. Chris always said it wasn’t a contest and didn’t matter, but Elliot liked to argue it was because he couldn’t admit to losing. Elliot wouldn’t say she was exactly close to them all, but as far as friends went, she guessed they were a pretty cool group to run the town with.

DAY 6: Guilty Pleasure

Elliot could spend hours upon hours watching TLC. She blamed her grandmother of course but like she said, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make them drink.” She was right of course, but Elliot wasn’t going to admit it. Cake boss was the shit. The cakes where beyond amazing. How in God’s name do they create these sculptures that you can EAT?! And the drama??? The show consumed her. She could care less whether it was real or not, that shit was entertaining. That and Four Weddings. Elliot never knew if she wanted to get married, or if she’d even get the option, but that didn’t stop her from rating other peoples weddings and seeing how terrible or great the night went. Some of the women on that show went all out spending thousands on a dress they’d only wear once, and the perfect venue they spend maybe five hours of their life at. Her favorites where the more bizarre brides. The ones with a halloween theme, or a batman themed wedding, or a fucking underwater theme. The list could go on. She would never outright tell anyone, but she had a soft spot for family and home channels.  

DAY 7: Casual Outfit

It was all bright colors for June. From yellow polka dotted pants to blue dresses to checkered skater skirts with bright purple tights. June’s closet looked like a rainbow exploded in her room. She accessorized with sparkly rings and necklaces that caught the light and large bangles that matched the days color scheme, if you could say she even had one. Her favorite shoes where a pair of basic black flats that buckled at the ankle and match anything and everything. Her go to pair for any outfit. June’s clothing was loud and bright just like her personality. It wasn’t a secret that she stood out in school, but if she was going to, she was going to own it.

Three pairs of ripped jeans, one nice for special occasions. Graphic tees galore. That was mostly what people gave up to thrift stores, but Elliot was happy to take them off their hands. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure right? Her favorite piece however, was her shoes. Red checkered vans, a birthday present from her parents. She wore them everywhere and anywhere. The only other pair was a beat up pair of off-brand black vans that she wore for when she was running out for something real quick. Elliot wasn’t one for accessories but she was always seen with a faded red backwards hat. It was against school dress code of course, but that didn’t stop her from carrying it along with her for when she decided to leave. Fashion and clothing wasn’t Elliots main focus. They were second handed and worse for wear, but her style was hers and no one could take that from her.

DAY 8: Formal Outift

Elliot was a same four outfits a week kind of person with only one formal outfit for whatever special occasion it called for. If it weren’t for her mother, Elliot would roll up to a wedding with ripped jeans and faded graphic tees, unfortunately her mother nagged to the point they spent a whole day at Goodwill and various other thrift stores looking for the perfect outfit. After trying on a skin tight, yellow mini dress, and a pant suit that made her look like she belonged in a Michael Jackson music video, Elliot found pants that just so happened to work perfectly with the top and shoes her mother found. Everything about the outfit was perfect. The pants were a navy blue with matching suspenders. The fabric stretched ever so slightly fitting the curve of her hips and buttoning at the waist. The top was a white and navy blue striped button up that Elliot tucked into the pants and rolled the sleeves to just below the elbow. The top was soft and lay perfectly over her shoulders, dipping into the curve of her waist, accentuating her feminine figure as the suspenders gave her a hint masculinity to the outfit. It was subtle but much needed addition to the outfit. Elliot felt beautiful and confident and thought maybe this wasn’t so bad afterall.  

DAY 9: Spirituality

June had been raised in a non-denominational church her whole life. Her father was a deacon at a reasonably big church a few miles downtown, and June participated in the choir like she had been doing since she was ten. She was religious, but when she discovered she was attracted to girls, she wasn’t so sure anymore. It’s not that she instantly decided God wasn’t real, but most christians preached such things as sin and that you’d end up in hell. Her church had never preached against it, it was just never really...brought up? June believed in Heaven and Hell, she believed in God, but to her something didn’t add up. Her father was a very religious man. Not the kind to drill the word of God into sinners of the world, just one proud to be Christian and expressed that through crocheted pillows and inspirational wall art. One day June would tell her father how she felt, but not for a while. Maybe when she went off to college? Or moved out of state? Or when the people of Earth decided to colonize Mars? Whichever came first.

Elliot’s family wasn’t the religious type. If anything, they’d call themselves agnostic. They knew something had to be out there, but what exactly, they didn’t know. The Demarco’s were quite possibly the most open minded and non-judgmental family anyone could meet. Elliot had come out to her family when she was thirteen. When she told her parents she thought she liked girls, her dad responded with a handshake and a, “Welcome to the club!” The oldest brother Liam responded with, “Wait, so you’re a fa-” but didn’t get to finish before their grandmother slapped the shit out of him, and never again did Liam say another word like that again.

DAY 10: Broken Temper

Mason was a calm type of mad. Not much angered him. Some days he didn’t get enough sleep, skipped coffee, or just wasn’t in the mood. When he was like this he mostly kept to himself. Slight nods, silent treatments, snappy answers. Kam knew not to bother him too much on days like that. Kam had seen Mason truly angry only once. The day began with much begging and a million please’s as Kam finally talked Mason into going to a free concert at a downtown bar. It was open to the public with local performers playing throughout the night. Everything was fine until Mason left to use the restroom and came back to find a man pushing himself on Kam. With a beer in one hand and the other holding on tightly to his shoulder, Mason’s expression changed in a heartbeat. The man leaned in close to talk to Kam, who in return, looked very uncomfortable. Mason knew Kam was too nice to tell him to leave him alone. He was about to politely pull Kam away, until the stranger moved his hand down the small of his back before pushing himself onto him. Mason was there in seconds, shoving the man off Kam. Mason’s voice was loud and harsh. “Hey, get the fuck off of him!” Mason could smell the alcohol on his breath, clearly drunk. “Fuck you man! You don’t own him!” He retaliated, stepping up to Mason who had a good few inches over him. Mason had him by the collar when he felt a light tug on his shirt. He turned around to see Kam holding on, his eyes soft and pleading. Mason turned back to the guy and let go, taking Kam by the hand and leading him out without another word. His grip was tight and firm as he made a beeline for the door. Kam’s only thought after that night was to see aggressive Mason more often.

No one could stop Elliot when someone made her mad. This isn’t the complaining and cursing about life and dumb people type of mad, but the type that actually made her snap. It wasn’t a surprise when people heard that Elliot was caught in a fight at school. Guys liked to test her and push her buttons and Elliot damn well made sure they knew what they had gotten themselves into. 90% of Chris and Jacks responsibility as her friend was spent keeping her out of fights or, when they were too late, pulling her off the poor guy that decided to say the wrong thing to her.

Unfortunately Chris was absent the day Elliot had overheard a conversation between Caleb and his friends over another kid a seat away who could clearly hear every word they were saying. Elliot wasted no time walking over to tell him to “Shut the hell up!” This led to some words being passed back and forth before Elliot took her fist to his face, leaving the giant man baby, as she called him, on the floor, stunned. The end result was a broken nose and a fractured hand, which Elliot thought was well worth it. When questioned by the principal as to why she did what she did, she answered with, “Well maybe if he had left Tyler alone and not decided to call him a, ‘faggot little bitch who can shove a ruler up his ass’, to the entire cafeteria, then maybe I wouldn’t have.” Elliot said holding onto her hand, her voice harsh, brown eyes sharp.  

The principal sighed, rubbing her hand down her face. Elliot had gotten to know Mrs. Larsen really well over the past few years.

[deartimekeeper]

Roses and Distant Echoes Ch. 4

Find On: AO3

Pairing: Nine x Rose

Rating: General

Chapter Summary: In which Rose finds out what happened to the palace.

Note: Sorry it’s been so long! School has kept me insanely busy. Enjoy!

Rose’s meeting with the Prince happened quite by accident. She wasn’t aware of the inner working of the palace, but upon her stay the night before she had assumed that he had been aware of her arrival as well as her imminent stay. Considering his palace did not wish to let her out, it seemed an easy assumption to make. However, she soon learned it was not the case.

She and Tim were awakened by one loud knock on the door followed by Sarah Jane rushing in with a smile and with a bursting energy, throwing the large heavy curtains wide open. Sunlight poured in causing Tim to groan and bury himself further into the blankets. Dust motes were visible as the rays of light filtered in. Rose blinked the sleep out of her eyes and squinted toward the window. While the previous night she hadn’t been able to see beyond the gates, she could now discern the large forest that separated the home she had known from this strange and wondrous place.

“Looks like the fog’s gone. It’s really sunny out there. How late is it?” Rose quickly sat up, attempting to smooth her hair and hopped off the bed. Sarah Jane stood by the window, smiling widely out at the gardens. Her expression had an aura of disbelief and her eyes did not waver from the sight outside.

“We haven’t had sunlight in so long,” she murmured quietly, unsure if Rose was meant to have heard her she began tying up her shoes.

“Do you think your doors will let me out today?” Rose smiled, partially joking. Sarah Jane’s smile turned into a frown as she turned and looked at Rose. The pain in her eyes was unmistakable but she quickly hid it behind a smile.

“We’ll have to see after breakfast then won’t we? Hurry up, or the food will get cold.” She walked toward Tim who was blearily rubbing his eyes while trying to slide out of bed.

Together the three of them made their way to the kitchen. Rose looked curiously around her as they walked the same hallways they had in the darkness. Now that the palace was flooded with dim light coming in through the dusty windows, she could make out small intricate details all around her. The white moulding on the high ceilings had statues of cherubs and small animals smelling and holding out flowers, the portraits hanging on the walls were dusty but held in gold frames with swirling designs. As they walked past the front door Rose looked at it in wonder. The dull blue color of the door was now brighter and the gold handles gleamed in the sparse light that entered through the tall windows on either side. She looked at it for rope, perhaps a system of some sort that caused the door to shut, proof that the door did not in fact close itself but someone was in charge of it. She found nothing and was left with more questions. Magic, maybe. She made it a point to believe in almost everything.

Sitting down at the table they had occupied the past evening was much more difficult in the morning. There were new faces she hadn’t seen before all crowding around trying to take food from various bowls, talking over one another and laughing. It looked and sounded like a celebration. Certainly a far more different atmosphere than what Rose had arrived to. As soon as Sarah Jane made it closer to them with Rose and Tim in tow the occupants of the table all went silent and stared at them. Some pausing with food halfway to their mouths and others mid chew. Rose fidgeted while Tim looked at them suspiciously.

“You must be Rose!” a man stood up grinning widely, “I’m Mickey.” Everyone once again started talking and continued eating.

“Almost everyone that works here comes to the kitchen around this time for breakfast,” Sarah Jane explained. Rose smiled as she was shown to a seat and served a plate. The man, Mickey, took his seat again grinning at someone sitting next to him and once again continuing his conversation.

Tim got more talkative as everyone around him smiled at them and handed them food. Rose did not miss the curious looks they threw at her every other time. Carefully avoiding direct eye contact she focused on the porridge in front of her.

“And Wilf said that the tower that faces the stream echoes when the birds fly in so it sounds like ghosts,” Tim finished his story.

“Who’s Wilf? Lynda said he was minding you while they were in the kitchen last night.”

“Well I don’t see him here with everyone. He said he’s friends with the Prince. He’s really nice. He let me play with the old watches he polishes,” Tim grinned at Rose, his mouth smeared with food. Rolling her eyes Rose wiped at his face and with a grimace he took the napkin from her hand. “Is there really a Prince here Rose?” The intrigue in his tone was not disguised in the slightest and she had to admit she was also curious about the Prince that had been mentioned.

Before she could answer the kitchen door slammed open. A tall looming figure stood in the doorway and Rose shivered holding Tim closer to her side. Something felt off.

“What’s going on here?” his voice was loud, imposing, she resisted the urge to cower away but saw others quickly stand and step back. Rose slowly stood with Tim at the end of the table, trying to reassure him with a squeeze on his shoulder.

Behind the man Jack ran in, grimacing at everyone and his eyes falling on Rose last.

“James,” Jack began walking in front of him, “I was just on my way to speak to you.” he grinned nervously and his eye contact wavered from the icy blue ones that turned their ire on him.

“You told me they would be gone last night,” his gaze swept over the crowd by the table, all who flinched in return as he looked at them, and stopped on Rose and Tim.

She held his gaze, fighting the instinct that told her to look away, that little voice in her head that whispered ‘get out; danger.’ She focused her stare. It felt like looking at the palace for the first time when she had been searching for Tim. Like a haze was covering him and flickering in and out. He was tall. A bit taller than Jack, dressed in old worn out clothes. His shirt was barely buttoned up and his boots looked close to falling apart. She examined his face last, although his eyes were the first feature she had noticed. He had a prominent nose above a grown out beard and messy hair close to reaching his shoulders. Her eyes flickered back to his. Blue like the first frost of winter. Beautiful. They made her pause, held her tethered to….something. It felt like finding that which had been missing. Something in her saying ‘this is where it all begins’. She felt a dull throb at her temple but ignored it. Her curiosity always won out.

His angry expression turned to curiosity and confusion.

“My Prince,” Jack called back his attention but James only tilted his head toward him, his eyes not leaving Rose, “There was a situation with allowing their departure.” Finally tearing his gaze away he looked at Jack. Rose breathed a sigh of relief and disappointment. His intense gaze had her quivering in her spot. She wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or the pain and wonder she could see in his eyes. She had wanted to see beyond the haze around him but to do so meant battling her body’s natural response. It felt wrong to look straight at him, but it felt wrong to look away from him as well. Rose tuned back into the conversation happening in front of them, noticing those around her, especially Lynda were itching to leave the room, fidgeting and glancing at the doorway.

“Show me,” the Prince’s words were curt and he turned and walked out the door. Jack nervously beckoned Rose to follow him and everyone at the table quickly made room for her to pass. She nudged Tim toward Sarah Jane, and taking a deep breath she walked with Jack. She could see out of the corner of her eye some of them following far behind, making sure to maintain their distance, and Sarah Jane leading Tim back to his plate of food. Those that followed stayed where the hallway opened to the foyer.

Once they reached the entryway, the Prince looked straight at the door and nowhere close to her.

“Open the door.” As soon as the command was given Jack rushed over and opened it, a cool burst of wind chilling them. Finally the Prince looked at her his eyes seemed to watch her every movement. She felt as though he could see each unsteady breath she took or the twitch of muscles as she hesitated in walking to the door. Could he see her heart pounding in her rib cage as well?

With a shaky breath she took cautious steps toward the door. She hated the slamming sound of it from all the times it had closed the night before. She had felt it verbarate in her feet each time. Her slow steps made the door shut more calmly, but quickly nonetheless. The noise not so harsh as the night before, Rose only startling slightly from the sudden movement. She looked back at him, standing by the staircase. He was still. Not even a hint of a response and his eyes seemed to be watching something else unfold. He was lost in a memory perhaps, or some long lost dream. It surprised Rose how interested she was to know what was going on behind the turmoil in his eyes.

His face was grave, lips pressed thin. He didn’t look at her as he turned to walk away and she found that she wanted him to. She clenched her hands into fists at her side.

“You’ll have to stay. Indefinitely.” His voice echoed in the hall and gave no room for argument.

“I can’t stay here!” The silence after her outburst was heavy like the air before a storm. He turned, his eyes pierced through her and her heart stuttered.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Although Rose understood that there was something more at work, some force that wouldn’t allow her to leave, and wasn’t that just ridiculous to think of, his lack of explanation and indifferent attitude made her feel cold and alone. As if he were the one condemning her to this fate. It was unexpected, the surge of despair that went over her. The plea that was ready to escape from her lips. A plea for what, she wasn’t sure. Freedom? But she barely had freedom at the orphanage. She only set foot out when she was expected to run errands into town. And even then her trips were limited. Nevertheless, she took a step toward him as he left. His shoulders tense, he paused only for a moment before he continued walking away as no words could leave her lips.

She was sure her eyes betrayed her as she turned to look at everyone else. All the people that had just witnessed what felt like a life sentence. They all looked unsure. Struggling with opposing emotions she saw. Some relieved and others ashamed.

Wanting no one to see the building tears fall she turned to look at the staircase.

“Jack, you owe me a story,” she was surprised her voice held none of the fear and sadness she could feel overcoming her. She felt a calmness wash over her that allowed her laboured breaths to ease and turn to face the man with an apologetic look on his face.

“Come with me,” he held out a hand and she looked at his sad gaze only for a moment before she took it, “Lynda, tell Sarah Jane to keep Tim entertained for a while.” Lynda nodded and left in a hurry.

***

Rose wasn’t sure how many doors they passed or which turns they took to wind up at the open doors of a library. Jack walked to the windows at the back of the large room, the high ceilings making him look small, and pulled the curtains aside, only a small cough and grimace revealing his disgust at the cumulated dust. Rose stood by the doorway and slowly made her way in, taking in the filled shelves and haphazard piles of books all around her, piles that tilted every which way as though one small movement would cause them to tumble to the floor.

He led her to several tables all full of books. Some were stacked like the books by the shelves and others lay open. Some had pages ripped and corners bent, their spines broken from constant use.

He stopped at one of the longer tables by the window and gestured for her to sit down. Rose carefully took a seat in the wooden chair, opposite from Jack, flattening her palm on her skirts resting on her thigh. Glancing at all of the books Jack picked one up and flipped a couple pages in, then placed it in front of her. She looked at him in question and he motioned for her to look and read the page. She leaned forward. It was an old book, she could tell by the delicate feel of the page as she touched the edges of it and the illumination surrounding the letter R at the beginning of the sentence. A book like that seemed like a treasure.

“These books were not here before. Well not all of them,” Jack rearranged other books around them. “This library is bigger than it used to be and contains more knowledge than anyone has ever had at their disposal. These are books written and lost long ago found again and books that have yet to be written.”

“What does that mean? How can you have books that haven’t been written yet?”

“It’s early,” he smirked, “We’ll have time to get to all that. I’m here to tell you the basics of why certain things are the way they are. The rest you will find out soon enough. Just read the page.”

Rose leaned over the script once more and focused.

Jack stood and went to read behind her shoulder. Impatiently drumming his thumb on the table. It only distracted her for a moment before she focused on the content of the book she was reading. She finished quietly and slumped back in her chair.

“So Prince James, son of Odeia and Robert of House Lungbarrow. King and Queen of Gallifrey,” she trailed off, “But that’s impossible.We haven’t had a King or Queen in ages.”

“You’ll start to believe the impossible around here,” he sat back down and leaned back, balancing the chair on two legs. “Have you never heard of the palace in the mountains? I was under the impression when this was built that it would never be forgotten.”

“That’s a legend,” Rose said, “the palace in the mountains has never been seen. It was a story from centuries ago. Surely this can’t be it.”

“What did the story say? About the palace?” Jack urged.

Rose’s eyes unfocused as she remembered the times her mother had told her the story to put her to sleep. She had adored imaging the gleaming halls, the idea of Kings and Queens and the parties they must have had. “It was said that there was a family, a royal family back before The Lords took over, who overlooked the trade and protected this region. And they lived on a palace built into the side of the mountains that separated our region from others.” She paused and glanced back at Jack. “But that story originated hundreds of years ago. The Lords disposed on any other form of rulership, and even then Kings and Queens never existed, this book shouldn’t even exist. No one truly knows if there was ever anyone who looked over us. How could a palace this large be hidden away? Someone would have found it.”

“Not if it was being shielded away. Waiting.”

“For what?”

Jack grinned, “Time is a tricky thing, even I don’t know everything. But sometimes, timing is everything, and waiting is key.”

“You know that makes no sense. Do you say things just to seem clever?”

“I didn’t know a critique would come with this explanation. Otherwise I would have let Sarah Jane do it.”

“If this is that palace then where are the King and Queen? What happened to all of this to change everything that I know? That all the people of the region know? ”

“There was an accident. The whole family was in a building, invited to celebrate the engagement of a distant relative. There was a- well…” He trailed off and clenched his jaw. Taking a deep breath he continued, “Only James managed to survive. He became angry. He hated the world and well, the world didn’t seem to like him so much either. One night a woman came to the door. Turns out she was some messenger from these ancient beings. At the time we didn’t know what they were, I’ll be sure to give you a book about them to read, but she cursed him and us. This whole palace is trapped. We can never leave and no one can ever see us.”

“But Tim found you,” she interrupted, “and so did I, for that matter.”

He smiled in delight, “Yes, and you’re the first visitors we’ve had in 320 odd years.”

“Three hundred and twenty?” she looked at him in disbelief.

“Give or take a decade or so. However, I’m not done with the story. So Prince James was cursed-”

“How?”

“Couldn’t you tell?” he looked at her inquisitively. When she showed no sign of recognition he sat forward the chair once again on all four legs, “No one can look at him without feeling fear, disgust, sometimes even hatred. How did you not see it? Or feel it?”

“I think I did feel it, somewhat. It was like the palace,” she shrugged slightly shaking her head, “I was a bit afraid at first but I could see it flickering in and out. It gave me a headache trying to see past it, but I see him fine. At least for the short time he was there.” she laughed trying to lighten the mood but Jack just stared at her incredulously.

“You don’t realize,” his eyes searched her face, trying to find what made her so special. Trying to come to terms with why everything was happening now rather than years before. The centuries they had spent in a constant terrifying routine. There had been many days when they’d all considered ending their own lives in some way or other. Morbid curiosity after the first 100 years, of what would happen. Accidents, if they could be called that, from wrists being slit by broken plates to getting tangled in the cords of the thick hanging curtains and hanging by the neck, had plagued several people. But they all lived, they felt no pain and healed from self inflicted wounds. It was only the creatures of the gardens that could kill them, but no matter how desperate they were to be done with the curse, no one would dare face the torture of the gardens. Jack had to remain strong for everyone, he had to make them laugh, had to bring something new to each hopeless day that had passed. And now, he felt it in the tips of his fingers, in the buzzing energy of everyone in the palace, something was changing. It could be felt like a current surrounding everything. He grinned at the confused Rose.

“So he was cursed,” he jumped back in with the same carefree tone as before, “So were we, and so was this palace. We didn’t realize at first. James’s curse was easy to see, to feel, but us…we wanted to call for a doctor and sent out a servant, as soon as he reached the outer gates they slammed shut. People began panicking, tried to climb up and jump to the other side but were pulled back…” he trailed off and Rose saw him reliving those moments.

“What happened?” She whispered, his eyes focused back on her.

“The beginning was tough on all of us. Some had family out in the town but there was no way to leave. We thought that surely someone would come looking, wondering what had happened to the Prince if not for us, but no one came.” Jack cleared his throat, and shot her a wistful smile. “The woman that had come to the door, she was a corpse. A maid said she was had been the wife of a farmer from the outer region. She had died several weeks before she showed up at our doors.”

Rose’s eyes widened as she stared at Jack, bewildered.

“The message she gave us…” he trailed off and looked away from her, “this palace is a doorway. Creatures appear and wander the halls. Each room in the palace changes locations. You could open a door and find a jungle then open the same door sometime later and find something completely different. We have been given the pleasure of being, overseers of sorts.”

“That is…insane,” although her response was disbelieving her face was open with curiosity, “But, you said it’s a curse, so there must be a way to break it, surely. Don’t all curses have a way of being broken?”

He looked at her, a faint smile on his face then stood and held out his hand. Confused she took it and stood.

“There is only one way it can be broken,” he tucked hand in the crook of his elbow and led her out of the library, “but it’s not something we can force. It has to happen naturally. Now, let me show you these magical rooms we have here.”