#Hello Stranger gives you Jock + Nerd

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

HI ALL! This is a weird one but do you know any stories where Mercedes is heavily in instead of Rachel? I always preferred that friendship and was disappointed in how that friendship changed on the show. I would love to read stories where Mercedes is Kurts best friend. (Bonus if Sam's in it too). Thank you in advance)

That's not a weird Ask - happy to find more Mercedes and Samcedes for you! ~Jen

Hey Mister DJ, Put a Record On By @honeysucklepink

It's Valentine's Day, and single coworkers Kurt and Blaine are stuck at the campus radio station playing sappy love songs and dedications. All the cheese is giving them indigestion, but who knows? Maybe by the end of their shift, they'll be humming a different tune...

~~~~~

My Heart, It Pounds, Yeah You Got Me by @nineofhearts4

Kurt gets drunk and records a TikTok entitled “Guys I Had A Crush On In High School”, in which he talks about, rates, and shows pictures of his various crushes— embarrassing, unrequited, and otherwise — thinking he set it to friends only or private. When he wakes up the next day, he has a flood of notifications that prove otherwise, a hangover, and a text from Blaine Anderson. The longest part of Kurt’s now viral video.

~~~~~

Like A Firework by beautifulunseen

Kurt, who has tried to stay away from the music industry, meets a beautiful stranger one night at a party and falls hard. The only problem is the beautiful stranger is Blaine Anderson, rockstar.

~~~~~

Regrets Collect Like Old Friends by Fearlessly

After the engagement gets called off, Kurt turns to Mercedes. Will she be able to help while she’s on her first national tour? This is a story about friendship and self-discovery.

~~~~~

Operation Secret Santa by @chasingkerouacwrites

Kurt can’t stop staring at the cute guy who comes by the coffee station near his desk every morning, but can never muster up the courage to say hello. Until the assignment for their office Secret Santa is revealed and his reads ‘Blaine Anderson’. Written in pieces for Klaine Advent 2017.

~~~~~

Soon by prettyskylark

Set during 4x21. Mercedes gives Kurt the talk during their double coffee date when the guys go get their coffee. Because someone must have told Kurt to pull his head out of his ass and finally open his eyes.

~~~~~ They are Unicorns By KillerQuen80

Kurt and Blaine let Sam and Rachel talk them into a bachelor party instead of the upscale dinner they'd originally planned. Which leads to them finding an unconventional centerpiece at the party.

~~~~~

Clinging to This Hating Game by notarelationship

Kurt and Blaine couldn’t stand each other in high school, maybe one was a jock/cheerleader and the other a nerd/glee clubber. Or they were bitter rivals for competition solos if they were both in glee club. Now they both live in NY and their friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they went to the same high school.

~~~~~

Hiding in Plain Sight by @nineofhearts4

Blaine is famous and decides to take a break from it all by putting on a disguise and going “backpacking” through Europe with his best friend Sam. What happens when they run into fellow Americans, Kurt and Mercedes, at one of the hostels?

Loosely based on the time Niall Horan apparently went backpacking in disguise in Asia

~~~~~

and one blaine mercedes friendship that could have been

The Roommate chronicles by killerqueen80

Living together is an eye opening experience in different ways for Blaine, Mercedes and Sam.

[mydramaproblems]

Lockdown Dramas, Two Reviews

Philippines really decided to go for it with the lockdown dramas, and both of these were so good. Gameboys especially was really well done in terms of video and sound quality (which I’d rather have than realistic video chat picture quality). A general pro, if you want romance basically without anything physical, these are the shows for you! Gameboys Pros:

Really comprehensive and realistic use of social media, done well.

As a queer person myself, I found it handled sexual identity much better than most of these shows.

It actually deals with COVID-19 on a personal level for one character (vs We’re Staying at Home but Unaffected), plus bringing in the mental health struggle aspect of isolation.

Gavreel is such an over the top cheesy flirt and it’s very amusing. Pearl is also beyond extra, and the total opposite of me, but I love her.

Gameboys Cons:

If you want Pure Fluff, this may not be for you, there’s grief talk on a couple levels in among the fluff.

At the end of most episodes they’ll cut you off in the middle of Key Events and as the director’s name comes up you will yell IVAN!! very loudly, startling anyone nearby (my cat found this especially aggravating).

Your mileage may vary re Gavreel and Pearl.

Hello Stranger Pros:

They’re all adorable babies and I want to adopt them

Great friend group dynamics and relationship growth

People notice things are wrong and don’t just ignore them

Angst level around same-sex attraction was pretty low

Hello Stranger Cons:

One of the worst “What is wrong with you! What are you DOING! Why would you say that! Stop talking!” moments where you desperately want to shake the character and may need to shake a pillow instead.

No major cons here either really, this is a more lightweight show than Gameboys on a lot of levels, but I really enjoyed both.

Minor spoiler and mostly talk about Pearl under the cut (this post is just getting long)

So Pearl is established as bisexual in the show and it’s hinted that she’s crushing on a particular girl. She’s supposed to be getting a spin-off, Pearl Next Door, and if she’s not chasing/dating a girl I’m going to be so sad and annoyed (partly because of the hinting). Edit: Commenter in the notes says Adrianna So who plays Pearl confirmed it would be a GL series. I’m weirdly hopeful about it being done well? Gameboys dealing of sexuality felt more realistic in good ways. Then again, hope is dangerous.

[psyleedee]

The Equation of Love.

dean/castiel, jock!dean, nerd!castiel, smart!cas, love at first sight, footballer!dean, high school au, fluff, boys in love.

1.5k words. drabble.

-psyleedee.

It's a sunny summer morning, and Coach Singer has just blown the whistle, signifying their break from football practice.

That's when Dean really notices the boy sitting at the bleachers.

He noticed him first, when they were lined up and Coach Singer was explaining to the team about the upcoming finals, and their match with the rival high school from their neighboring county. The boy, with messy dark hair, as if he'd been electrocuted, with round, big blue eyes behind those thick black rimmed glasses, peering passionately into the pile of notebooks scattered around them, and his plush, pink lips mumbling to themselves.

Dean had found the boy odd. Firstly, owing to the fact that no one sat at the bleachers unless they wanted to smoke, make-out, or ogle at Dean and his team shirtless.

And this guy is studying? Wow.

Now that Dean has some time to himself, he decides, eh, what could possibly happen? Might as well go talk to the guy.

So here he is, standing at the edge of the bench the weird guy is sitting on, with his jersey shirt flung over his shoulder rather than draped around his chest, as it should be. What, Dean likes showing off his abs, he didn't work out for years straight to keep them hidden.

The boy doesn't spare him a glance. At first, Dean thinks he doesn't know Dean's there. But then there's a voice.

"I'm sorry, are you waiting for me?"

A deep, low tenor sound, and Dean is caught off-guard with how it sounds way deeper than it is supposed to. They're only eighteen, for god's sake.

"Erm, I, uh, I guess."

Then, the boy whips his beautiful, angel face up at Dean.

"Hello Dean."

"You know my name?"

"Are you not captain of the football team? Of course I know you're name."

Dean smiles, and considers it alright to slide onto the bench, next to Castiel, his thigh only inches away from Castiel's. The books around them are notebooks, composition notebooks, but they look old, overused, and part of Dean wants to grab one and read through it, but he knows better than to be disrespectful.

"I think you have me at a disadvantage then. Since you know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Oh," The boy grins with an awkward, hesitant smile, and quirks his glasses on his nose, drawing his shoulders in as he glances up at Dean, "-I'm Castiel. Castiel Novak."

"It's nice to meet you, Castiel. Mind if I just say Cas? Y'know, cause Castiel is too big. And I mean, I don't know, I just–"

"You like using single syllable words as nicknames. I noticed."

"Hm?"

"Just now, a while ago," Castiel starts, blue eyes meeting Dean's with a soft blush, "-you're brother, Samuel, and my friend from Robotics club, you called him Sam. Benjamin Lafitte, over there, you call him Ben, even though everyone else settles for Benny. Your other team member, the one you were passing the ball to, Victor, you call him Vic. So naturally, you must have some sort of weird attachment to reducing people's names to a single syllable. Of course, I admit, it provides much more ease, and it goes with the right flow of a sentence."

Dean falters. His lips hang open, his eyes are wide, and he's staring at the guy, Castiel, like a complete idiot.

He's also kinda' in love with him.

"Erm, sure, you can call me Cas. Heh."

Castiel smiles, and looks away, once again nibbling on his plump bottom lip with his eyebrows furrowed, and Dean feels a warmth unravel in his chest.

"Right, Cas. Whatcha' got there? Y'know, people generally come here to do... more inappropriate stuff."

Castiel's eyes go wide, and he freezes.

"Erm, what do you mean?"

"I mean, y'know, people they uh," alright, why am I of all people blushing like a goddamn baby right now, "-they uh, make out, get railed, y'know, high school shit."

"Ah. Oh. Oh, no, no, no, no, I'm not here to make out."

Castiel yelps, almost offended as he looks up at Dean. In response, Dean can only chuckle.

"Naw, you don't look like you have anyone to make out with either."

"You're here."

Castiel points out, and Dean gulps, trying to push away the image his mind brings to him in an instant, of the young, dark-haired boy disheveled and pink under Dean.

"No, I mean, as in, a girlfriend. Or boyfriends. Not me. Not strangers."

"Ah, right."

An odd, weird sort of silence ensues between them, before Dean silently reaches out and grabs one of the notebooks. He thumbs through the pages before flipping it open right in the middle. To his surprise, there's some bizarre, mad-scientist-esque equations and theories written in there, dotting almost every inch of the page, with random scribbles, random doodles, random words and–

"Hey," Castiel scolds, pulling the book out of Dean's hands.

"Easy tiger, not like I understand any of that chicken shit, and even if I did, trust me, I wouldn't steal your theories Einstein."

Castiel blushes, a soft, pink hue on his cheeks, and somehow, Dean wants to touch the warmth on his skin. He holds himself back though, but can't help staring at the boy in front of him.

"They're not– I'm not– it's just– argh–"

"Woah, what's wrong?"

Dean asks, scooting closer, and he slips an arm behind the boy to stretch his torso a bit.

"It's just... I've been working on this equation for days now. And it's just. Look, I'm trying to calculate a kick. Y'know, to a football. So, basically," Castiel shifts closer, unwittingly pressing into Dean's arms, and it sends a spurt of warmth unfurling within Dean's chest as the boy groans, and points over to the field.

"See, I'm assuming that's a constant position, and I'm assuming the average velocity of the ball, with your average kicking speed, but somehow, I can't manage to figure out where I'm going wrong with the, with the, with the, ugh."

Castiel sighs, and slumps back against Dean's shoulder, his lips turned down in a small pout, and some how, Dean can't help the small grin tugging at his lips.

Yup, Dean is kinda' in love.

"Look man, I'm not–"

"Of course."

Castiel pipes up, eyes going wide, as he rises, and stares down at the field. It seems like his Eureka moment, if Dean's being honest, and he can't help how adorable he finds the boy's excited grin. Castiel turns with a jerk, almost falls into Dean's lap, and before Dean knows it, he's being dragged onto the football field, and only when Castiel pauses, he turns to Dean.

"You stand right here, no moving."

Dean furrows his eyebrows, his face heating up when he catches Benny and Vic staring at him with a weird expression, not to mention the strange look Lisa Braeden and her band of girls is giving him from across the field. But then, Castiel is running back to him, a notebook in his hands, and he's mumbling something to himself.

"... velocity... thrice divided... speed... Got it."

Bright blue eyes meet Dean's for a moment, before Castiel slips under his arm, nudging him until he's leaning back, crouching down to measure something between his thigh and the ground, and Dean can only pretend he has any semblance of an idea of what Castiel is doing, but the boy just... he just looks so damn cute.

Dean is pretty in love with him.

"Got it. Got it. Got it!"

Castiel yells, gaping at his notebook, before he laughs, loud and rumbly, and flings his arms around Dean.

One moment Dean's standing frozen to the ground, the next moment Castiel Novak is hugging the life out of him.

Dean trips on his ankle, struck by Castiel's sudden weight on him, and both boys go stumbling down with a grunt, Castiel's notebook falling beside them with a thud. All at once, there is a puff of soft, warm breath on his face, and big, blue eyes staring down at him.

Dean is in love.

Tiny, soft hands press into Dean's chest as Castiel jolts up, his legs straddling Dean's hips. Dean sucks in a breath and pushes himself up until he's sitting on the mud, his eyes lost within Castiel's. Castiel simply smiles, clears his throat and blinks in confusion. Castiel's glasses are set awry on his nose, and as endearing as he looks, somehow, Dean gives in to his urge to reach up and fix them, only to be fixed with a gentle, dazed stare.

"Dean."

"Cas."

Dean gulps, and finds his hands sliding around Castiel's hips. As if the mere touch or Dean's skin burns, Castiel blushes, and pulls his hands off Dean's chest.

"Sorry, erm, sorry, I didn't mean to, uh–"

"Hey Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

Castiel's jaw drops open, and all he can do is gape at Dean.

"What?" He croaks.

"Too late," Dean breathes, hands reaching up to cup Castiel's face, "-I think already am."

[slayernina]

Hello! I found your blog thanks to the spoilers ^_^ Do you think there is a chance we will see Billy somehow on s4? Or 5? After all, the rest of "dead" characters "came back", like Will, Brenner or Hopper (I'm not counting Barb or Bob or Alexei because they were smaller roles)

Thanks for the question, Anon! I hope you enjoyed the leaks as much as I do XD

Well, get ready for a very long answer… 

On a personal level, yes, I want Billy back. He is one of my favourite piece of shit characters on the show, and also one of my favourite piece of shit character in TV/movie fandom overall. It doesn’t matter if you liked him or hated him, he was so.fucking.entertaining.to.watch. And Dacre Montgomery nailed the role.

NOW, LET’S ANALYZE ALL THE POSSIBILITIES: 

On an external level: 

PROS: apparently the actor enjoyed his time on Stranger Things, enjoyed his time with the cast/crew, they enjoyed their time with him, and no shitty behavior has emerged from set. 

CONS: the actor is Aussie and we are talking about bringing someone from the other side of the world (bureaucracy and everything) during a global pandemic.

On a narrative level: 

Yes, Max deserves something to close his death and some kind of resolution. If he’s alive, Billy needs a proper redemption arc. Max needs to set her boundaries and resolve their relationship. Both needs to fix their relationship, if they can. Billy should repair the damage he's done to everybody. 

If he’s truly dead, Max deserves something more than mourn him, he shouldn't be left as a martyr, and it would cheap his death and the writing overall if there is a flashback that goes along the lines of “turns out he’s not an awful brother and he and Max made amends somehow off-screen!”. 

On a symbolic level: 

There is no way the writers don’t address Billy’s existence. Max is going to the high school he would be attending his senior year (damn, that would have been an interesting sight having the two siblings at the cafeteria at the same time), she still lives with his father as far as we know, Lucas is in the basketball team now, Jason mentioned him during a public pep talk and the Hellfire Club is heavily related to heavy metal/rock music and drugs. Hell, if we take Jason and Eddie into account, totally looks like the writers splited Billy’s “concept” into two minor characters. 

IT IS POSSIBLE FOR THE CHARACTER TO APPEAR AGAIN? 

If he’s truly dead: Yes. Even if we take into account the wig, the actor shaved his head in the middle of filming for no discernable reason (one of the main points of being an actor is that you are not allowed to change your aspect at all during filming) and there is a pic from the makeup team creating an unused cast of his head and shoulders. So maybe there is a secret scene of an autopsy filmed during season 3, or an autopsy photo in some Dr Owens' file that shows Billy is dead. 

If the actor is “there”, Billy could appear as a nightmare to Max or Eleven caused by PTSD, or as some sort of “spiritual guide” to interact with Eleven, or the Mind Flayer (or Kali, she has that power too) uses his image to scare Eleven. 

If he’s truly alive: Yes again. We don’t know the exact amount of powers the Mind Flayer gave to Billy, but despite being almost a decadent corpse, he was burned, later threw through a wall, later car crashed and later “burned” again… and he was still alive and moving. He died after the gate was closed. The writers can get away with “oh, the gate was reopened, and that caused the powers came back to Eleven -and Billy-, and now he is a Venom/Wolverine type” (mandatory comic reference here). Also, a lot of horror/gore movies from the 80s are about resurrection and/or zombies. 

IF THE CHARACTER COMES BACK WELL: 

Redemption arc and Max scenes. A lot of drama. He would join the Party, which is good for 2 reasons: 

On a D&D level, he would be their barbarian fighter/berserker. The Party and allies fighting techniques are along the lines of intellect, deductive skills, street smarts, superpowers, throw things to monsters, and physical attacks. The latter part was usually covered by Hopper (not now there) and Steve. If Steve isn’t there for whatever reason, it’s good to have some dumb muscle. Also he can drive, which is good if any of the adults, teens or Max is not around. 

On a mental/emotional level, he would be their criminal. He has already a crime record, he is way dark/grey morality than the rest of the characters, he is not shy going places where the other characters are afraid (such as tortures, manipulation, car fu, and “distract people with sexy”). That could be used for good, or to don’t turn your heroes into assholes. Also given his context and past scenes, he can be a healer type due to his experience with fights and abuse, and perform CPR was mandatory on his job. 

On a funny level, just imagine the Cool Bad Boy Dumb Jock surrounded by the Supreme Nerds. Trying to get laid with Robin. Awkard moments with “I almost banged your mom” Wheelers. Or Erica roasting his ass off. Basically, he would be the Spike from Buffy. Damn, maybe he is a secret nerd, imagine a scream contest with Dustin about some obscure D&D concept while the others watch with a WTF face.

IF THE CHARACTER COMES BACK WRONG: 

He can be demented and PTSD, and be the character at Pennhurst Nancy and Robin were investigating. Or the girls were there for Victor Creel, and they crashed accidentally with crazy Billy, who is a John Doe founded wandering around and bought there meanwhile the Pennhurst workers are trying to discover who is he. 

He can be also trapped in the Hawkins lab (I doubt the scientists wouldn’t kept his body). Redemtion arc and Max scenes from above and a lot of drama too. 

IF THE CHARACTER COMES BACK (WELL OR WRONG) AND HAS SUPERPOWERS: 

Please. The black comedy would be endless. This asshole would be Deadpool and we know it. He is the kind of character who would be using his powers for the LOLZ to piss off people. He would leave behind his mutilated hand giving the finger to the army. He would draw with blood a dick over Brenner’s desk. He would rampage the lab, or jump from a skyscraper, or set himself on fire because he is soooo bored. He would mess Max showing her gun holes or performing autosurgery in the kitchen with a fork. He would let Lucas and Steve kick his balls with a bat as a “retaliation”

Basically, Billy has all the potential to become a dark twisted himbo ala Damon Salvatore and I'm here for it

[an-everything-blog]

Milkshakes

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: Language

Summary: Billy stands up for you when a jock starts to make fun of you at a party. Friendship ensues. Heavily inspired by Ed Sheeran’s, I Don’t Care

Word Count: 2.9K

Author’s Note: Hello loves! I have been obsessed with Stranger Things and I couldn’t help, but fall for Billy Hargrove and just had to write for him! I was listening this this song on my way to work the other day and this just came to mind as I listened to it! I hope you like it!!

I'm at a party I don't wanna be at And I don't ever wear a suit and tie Wonderin' if I could sneak out the back Nobody's even lookin' me in my eyes

You slowly made your way through Brian Johnson’s house with your head low to avoid all the drunk idiots in the party. When Nancy invited you to the Summer Smash-Out you certainly did not think you’d actually go. Parties are definitely not your look and everyone in Hawkins knew that, but you promised Nancy you would try it at least once. For a moment you considered just turning back and going back home or maybe to the diner a few blocks over to grab a milkshake. It’s not like anyone knew your name or knew who you were.

You sighed and trudged further into the house to find Nancy just so she’d get off your back about it. You’d stay for a little while, then you’d get a milkshake as a reward for torturing yourself like this. You looked around and didn’t see any sign of Nancy, so you opted to stand in a somewhat secluded corner and wait for her to show up. You didn’t really talk to anyone at school preferring to stay to yourself. You and Johnathan were friends which lead you to befriend Nancy as well. You weren’t close friends, but they were kind and didn’t seem too bad.

Don't think I fit in at this party Everyone's got so much to say I always feel like I'm nobody Who wants to fit in anyway?

You looked around at all the teenage girls wearing their short and tight dresses and frowned looking down at your own attire. You were sporting black ripped skinny jeans and an oversized AC/DC band T-shirt you found at a thrift store.

You finally saw Nancy and Johnathan come in through the front door making you sigh in relief. You were starting to get worried and was about to high tail it and run to get your delicious milkshake. You slowly started making your way toward them to prove your being here. You were finally so close to freedom.

As you were making your way around the corner to the front door Tommy Brown the quarterback on Hawkins football team forcefully bumped into you and you could tell before you even turned around that he was heavily intoxicated. He scoffed fixing his eyes down at you.

“What the hell is this ugly fucking loser doing here?” He looked over at his teammate Sam who shrugged uninterested. You furrowed your brows together and stood tall.

“Excuse me?” You questioned incredulous. What the hell is wrong with this guy? You hadn’t done shit to him. You even helped him with his math before and he’s treating you like this?

'Cause I don't care when I'm with my baby, yeah All the bad things disappear And you're making me feel like maybe I am somebody

“Tommy just leave her the fuck alone, alright? She’s not doing nothin to no one by being here.” You heard from behind you. Confused, you quickly turned over your shoulder to see the new king of Hawkins, Billy Hargrove with a cigarette between his lips. He stood tall in his infamous leather jacket with his chest bare and glistening with a pair of tight dark blue jeans. His hair looked curlier than usual and his eye’s shined bright with dominance.

To say that you were unbelievably shocked was an understatement. You did not think in a million years you would see Billy Hargrove stand up for you. Your mouth was agape as he walked past you giving you a quick glance before standing in front of Tommy.

He chuckled and swayed unevenly, “You sticking up for this lame ass fucking nerd?” Tommy laughed loudly gathering even more attention from the crowd than before. Your cheeks burned without your permission as he insulted you. Billy clenched his jaw before exhaling.

“She has a fucking name you dip-shit. (Y/n) will get farther in life than any other person in this low-life shit-hole. Leave her alone before I knock your teeth in.” Billy growled in his face. Tommy’s eyes widened as he stepped back from Billy pulling his hands up in surrender. Then just like nothing happened, Tommy and Sam turned and walked outside to the backyard.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Billy had been in this town for a little while now, but you had no idea that he knew who you were. You remember when he came into your second hour and sat right behind you in the only open seat. He had already been the talk of the morning so all eyes were on him when he made his way to his seat. You were too busy to notice though as you were doodling on your notes. Soon after he tapped on your shoulder and asked for a pencil with that winning smile you would soon learn he gave to all the girls in town. Nothing more happened between you both.

No one really knew who you were so it came as a shock that Billy even knew your name. You never introduced yourself to him or even spoken more than ten words to him. You suddenly heard someone clear their throat and you looked up to see Billy looking down at you. You were at a loss for words as Billy looked hard into your eyes. He could tell that you were close to crying because your eyes were watery. From anyone else’s view it wouldn’t be noticeable, but he was close enough to see through your toughness.

'Cause I don't care, as long as you just hold me near You can take me anywhere And you're making me feel like I'm loved by somebody I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah

“You alright (Y/n)?” He asked softly, a completely different tone from what you usually hear from Billy Hargrove. You blinked quickly while nodding.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. You didn’t have to do that.” You said just as soft. He looked down to your lips instinctively, but hastily back to your eyes.

“He was being a dickhead, so…” He mumbled. You nodded agreeing with him. The crowd finally dissipated and you looked around rather timid. You still felt like people were staring even though it looked as if they weren’t. Billy seemed to sense this.

“Hey, you want to get out of here?” He abruptly asked and you looked at him wide eyed. You always told yourself if he tempted you like this you would definitely say no, but right now your anxiety was through the roof and Billy was the only one that was making you feel safe as crazy as it sounded. You nodded rapidly and Billy swiftly threw his arm around your shoulders leading you through the doorway. Your body was burning at how close you were to Billy and the fact that he threw his arm around you so nonchalantly. You caught Nancy’s stare on your way out and she gave you a small worried, but happy smile.

Billy guided you to his blue Camaro and opened the passenger side to let you in. You mumbled a thanks and sat down on the cool leather. Once in the car he turned the key; igniting the car to life and speed off into the night.

“Where to Doll-face?” he smirked looking over your weary, unsure form. You’re not used to doing things unplanned.

“Uhh well before that shit-show happened I was going to go to Matt’s Diner and have a milkshake.” You chuckled slightly embarrassed at your lame plan. Who goes to a diner to drink a milkshake by their-self? He chuckled soon after though before replying.

“Lucky for you, I’m a sucker for their chocolate milkshakes.” He stated confidently before turning down the street of Matt’s Diner.

-

You both sat quietly with his chocolate milkshake and your plain vanilla both topped with whip cream and a cherry sitting on the table. Billy plucked his cherry into his mouth before sticking the stem of the cherry into his mouth. Only seconds later he pulled the stem out, tied in a tight knot. This made you chuckle while your cheeks burned away.

“How do you know me?” You suddenly asked grabbing Billy’s attention instantly.

“We have second hour together, I sit right behind you remember?” He said casually glancing away showing signs of apprehension. You rolled your eyes a bit playfully.

“I know that Dingus, I mean I’ve never introduced myself to you. It’s just shocking that you even cared to know it.” You ended quietly looking down taking a sip of your milkshake.

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed, ��How could I not know the name of the girl that has any sense of taste in music in this god-forsaken town!” Billy exclaimed chuckling forcefully. You grinned looking down at your AC/DC shirt.

“You’re right. I fear that we may be the only ones in this town who knows what good music is.” You tell him as if it’s a secret which has him grinning like a fool. He had never met someone that he was so easily attracted to: physically and surprisingly emotionally as well. Your face was so naturally beautiful him it made him nervous at times. He hadn’t really had feelings like this so he opted to keep his distance for a while to let you know that he didn’t want to cause any trouble with you.

“Thank you, Billy. For tonight. It.. really meant a lot.” You said barely above a whisper after you both quitted for a few minutes. Billy took a few seconds to look up from his milkshake, but once he did he could tell how much it meant to you. You were biting your lip softly and he had to resist the urge to pull it from your teeth. He quickly nodded before looking away.

“It’s not true you know.” Billy said calmly while playing with his straw. You raised your eyebrows in question.

“What’s not true?” You pressed in wonder. He shrugged before responding.

“Tommy saying that shit about you being ugly. It’s not true. You’re sexy and you’re cool and you’re smart on top of that. He’s just being a pussy-whip because you won’t give him a second glance.” He scoffed the last part. Your body was on fire at his compliments. His stare was hard and honest and serious and you couldn’t physically stand to hold his gaze.

“Billy...” You trailed off before he interrupted.

“No I’m serious. You’re the first real person I’ve met in this fake ass town and it’s stunning. Fuck anyone who thinks you should fit in with their lame asses.” Billy leaned back grabbing ahold of his milkshake glass slipping his straw past his lips and slurping the rest of his milkshake. You chuckled softly.

“Yeah well. Unfortunately this town is filled with fake ass people. That’s why I tend to stay by myself.” You say rubbing your arm. He looks at you for a moment before grabbing his keys and standing.

“C’mon, let’s go for a drive.” Billy smirked grabbing your hand. You giggled and followed him out. Thus starting your friendship with the king of Hawkins himself.

We at a party we don't wanna be at Tryna talk, but we can't hear ourselves Read your lips, I'd rather kiss 'em right back With all these people all around I'm crippled with anxiety But I'm told it's where I'm supposed to be

You really didn’t think you’d ever be back at another party but after befriending Billy he thought it’d be better than the last time for both of you to go together. Walking up to Sally’s house you took a deep breath before looking to Billy. He smiled down at you while chewing his gum and pressed you both forward. You both decided to go to the Back to School party to let off some steam before schoolwork really decided to be too much for you.

Opening the door seemed to attract a few glances. As you walked further in more and more people were looking at you both. What really got the whispers going is what you were wearing. You were still sporting your usual skinny jeans and band T-shirt, but what had everyone talking was the black leather jacket that Billy let you have for the night after you complained of being cold. You shook your head and looked down avoiding other peoples gazes as others called out greetings to Billy.

You both were in the living room where the heart of the party was. The music was blasting and you could hardly hear yourself think. Billy suddenly tapped your arm and you looked over to him. His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. You focused on his lips to try to understand him, but instantly started to regret it. His lips looked too soft, you had a sudden urge to kiss them.

You and Billy had been growing your friendship very rapidly over the Summer and while it’s been the most fun you’ve ever had in your life, it’s also been quite the difficult task to not develop deeper feelings. Especially when he’s a touchy person naturally to the people he’s close with. Then he goes around calling you baby and all these other cute names that has your stomach rolling.

Billy beginning to pull you to the dining room had you break from the trance. You shook your head and looked around as you got even more stares and whispers seeing Billy hold your hand and it was getting a little overwhelming hearing some of the whispers.

You know what? It's kinda crazy 'cause I really don't mind And you make it better like that Don't think we fit in at this party Everyone's got so much to say When we walked in, I said I'm sorry But now I think that we should stay

“Hey, you alright?” Billy asked loudly once you got to a relatively quieter place. You were looking around subconsciously making sure no one was watching anymore. Billy’s hand grabbed your chin lightly and brought it slowly in front of his. As soon as your eyes met his, you calmed down immensely.

“You wanna get out of here Baby? It’s not really our crowd anyway.” Billy asked smiling slightly. You chuckled then let out a long breath.

“No, no. Actually I think that we should stay.” You giggled quietly finally realizing that you weren’t alone. Billy was with you and that’s all that really seemed to matter to you right now.

You immediately gasped when ‘Back in Black’ by AC/DC started blasting through the house. You bounced excited and immediately looked to Billy. He was grinning hard as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the dance space.  

I don't like nobody but you It's like you're the only one here I don't like nobody but you Baby, I don't care I don't like nobody but you I hate everyone here I don't like nobody but you Baby, yeah

You were totally lost in the moment of the song while dancing with your best friend Billy at a random party. You were both laughing and dancing closely. Billy loved seeing you like this. So happy and carefree. He couldn’t help but think that you made each other better in the sense of joy.

Billy smirked down at you and gently put his hands on your hips guiding your movements. Your cheeks were warm as you placed your arms loosely around his neck while singing the lyrics of the song. Billy couldn’t take it anymore. His whole body was bursting with this happiness and he needed to express it somehow.

Throwing caution to the wind he smirked as he grabbed your face with both hands and pulled your lips to his. You were shocked to say the least and made a quiet squeak sound as his lips formed with yours. Just as you began to kiss back he pulled away to look into your eyes searching for a reaction. You let out a small quick sigh and began to smile widely. This made Billy smile so hard his eyes became little slits. You pulled him back down for another kiss not giving a shit who saw you both.

-

“So what was that?” You questioned referring to the kiss as you both exited the party and back to Billy’s car. Billy shrugged with a silly grin.

“Honestly I hate everyone here in this shit town, but you. So.. yeah.” He smirked as you chuckled.

“I feel the same way.” You agree confidently. You felt like you were flying and it was all because of Billy. He made you feel like no one else did and understood you in a way no one else would.

“Ready for milkshakes?” He looked over to you with an eyebrow raised. He convinced you to go to the party by promising you guys could get milkshakes after. You giggled and reached over his console to kiss him again before his car came to life and began on your journey to Matt’s Diner.  

'Cause I don't care when I'm with my baby, yeah All the bad things disappear And you're making me feel like maybe I am somebody I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah 'Cause I don't care as long as you just hold me near You can take me anywhere And you're making me feel like I'm loved by somebody I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah

FEEDBACK APPRECIATED <3

[solaneceae]

MY HUMAN!EGOS AU

i got a surge of inspiration and started creating my own versions of the egos! its still a work in progress but i love them to bits and im really excited to share them

JACKIE

grew up in an abusive household, emotional and sometimes physical abuse

parents screamed at each other all the fucking time, father was an alcoholic

Left home as soon as he was able to live by himself (16)

he’s 22 now

poor

trans boi, on T, wears a binder cuz he can’t afford top surgery

lives in an apartment with two roommates: Max, a philipino sound designer and independent musician (they/them) and their girlfriend Nilanjana (Nana), a buff training coach from indian descent

Jackie is in a queerplatonic relationship with them: they cuddle and kiss on the forehead during movie nights and all that cute shit

he has a part-time day job to pay the rent and bills: he gives self-defense lessons

he drinks his respect women juice

vigilante at night. gets hurt a lot. his roommates think he fights in an illegal fight club for extra cash and are worried about him

wants to save people and spread positivity wherever he goes

but he has the wrong way to go about it

basically he does the PMA thing wrong and thinks any kind of negativity is bad and tries to force himself to be happy all the time. 

not healthy, someone help this poor boi

anger issues, undiagnosed ptsd and ADHD

antsy boi! stimmy boi! He’s always bouncing on his feet or humming a tune or fiddling with his hair

aromantic asexual

pure of heart, dumb of ass. seriously, he’s such a dumb, but he does have street smarts

vitiligo!!

light blue eyes, dyes his brown hair lime green

extrovert, loves people

the kind of guy to record himself doing parkour and post it on tiktok

team hot cocoa

for the love of god please don’t give him coffee, he’s enough of a jitterbug already

wants a dog. prolly needs an emotional support one.

plays the drums. Fished a beat-up set somewhere, would like a proper one

fights with his fists and a wooden staff

no special powers, just self-taught fighting skills, natural flexibility and talent at acrobatics and rigorous training

MARVIN

he was born with green cat eyes, the physical representation of his extremely potent magic. parents were freaked out, and basically hid him away

had no control over his powers as a baby, would wreak havoc around him. think Mob from Mob Psycho 100

the upper side of his face was badly burned when he lost control of his powers as a toddler, so he wears masks to hide the scars. the cat one is just the one he wears most often

“hey, nice mask!” “it’s a prosthetic.” “...oh.” (it’s not that bad really, he’s just really self-conscious about it)

he was homeschooled his whole life and generally wasn’t allowed to go out much, so his social life/skills are nonexistent

his parents are famous fashion designers

they’re super rich and travel the world and send him a ridiculous amount of money every month

they say it’s for work but the real reason is that they couldn’t deal with having a “freak” as a son but couldn’t abandon him without getting bad PR

so instead they just took their distance and left him to live in a big-ass mansion by himself as soon as he was old enough (10 years old)

they dont really care what he does. last time they called him was when he was 13

last time they sent him a birthday card was when he was 18

now he’s 24

(and at this point he makes me think of bruce wayne lmao. he needs an alfred)

since he has money and home, he doesn’t need a job, so he just stays cooped up in the property and almost never leaves, he orders his food and groceries to be delivered to him

he’s basically a hermit at this point. and a huge nerd

he tries to use his natural magic as little as possible, (hello trauma my old friend) so he still has flimsy control over it

instead he dabbles into wicca and the occult to do stuff

A bookworm, quite serious, dresses like a hipster art school student. he wears SAROUEL PANTS.

glasses!! Big round rimless glasses!! soft!!!!

long brown hair, messy bun, dyes the tips dark green and purple 

disaster gay

“sleep? what’s that? i only know coffee”

has three cats he rescued himself: Spades, Jasper and Poppy

has a huge greenhouse linked to the main building. he likes gardening a lot, whether it’s for his craft, for cooking or just because he likes seeing plants flourish

HOW THEY BOTH MET / IDEAS AND SHIT

Jackie tried to take on a whole ass drug ring and bit more than he could chew at the time so he got beat up pretty bad. He managed to escape with his trusty grappling hook and swung around a bit before crashing through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse while Marv was tending to his plants, in the early morning.

Long story short Marv is in a panic because a complete stranger (also the only human being he’s interacted with in months) just flopped in front of him and is probably dying and he wants to call an ambulance.

jackie: *beaten black and blue and coughing up blood* jackie: oh hey how’s it goin’ marv: *distressed nerd noises* marv: oh my god who the fuck are you but also are you dying in my house im calling an ambulance- jackie: uh yeah no please dont im kinda doing illegal stuff also i cant afford it marv: marv: wh-

also what if marv calls the family’s doctor since jackie won’t go to a hospital, and it’s fucking Schneep henrik: what the fuck did you do this time marv: it wasn’t me! jackie: your family doctor scares me marv: that’s why they hired him

maybe after that jackie keeps coming to see marv and marv is like “ugh you again-” and he always come to marv whenever he gets hurt, to get patched up by schneep. he broke the ceiling two more times basically they become “hey ron hey billy” vine, its just a habit at this point.

Marv is a rich boi that doesn’t know anything about life. at this point i realize he’s like a mix of Elsa and Rapunzel, and Jackie is kinda Flynn xD Jackie just… aggressively becomes Marv’s friend despite the magic man’s reluctance, and shows him the world. love me some smart grumpy nerd/dumb happy jock friendship

jackie: im your friend now marv: wh- jackie: *drags him outside* LETS GO CLIMB A BUILDING TOGETHER-

Marvin but he’s never been in a grocery store in his entire life because he just orders super expensive pre-made meals to his house or cooks his own veggies, and he’s just amazed at the first one they go to

like “wHAT, IT’S A ROW OF FREEZERS! Remind me to install one of these at my place!”

and Jackie, who just came here for bread and milk, looks at him fondly but also is very concerned. Also he doesnt question marv’s masks, he just thinks they look cool

@tabbynerdicat it’s my bois! @lilakennedy because i know you like those two, and your love for them motivated me to develop them first

[buckisthatyou]

Glow

Pairing: Bucky x Male Reader (soulmate au and highschool au)

Word Count: 2100

Warning: -

Summary: There is a pressed flower in each books you have borrowed from your favourite library and it glows every time you touch it. (soulmate au)

Masterlist

Author notes: This is for @cravingmarvel ‘s Writing Challenge [my prompt is Garden] and also today is her birthday (26th June) so this is also a birthday gift for her! I love you and im so proud of you!!!!!! Keep being amazing (human, writer, friend, musician etc)!!! also this is my first time writing soulmate au soooo please be nice! :’)

You do love sport but not as much as you love books. You don’t think it is a big problem. Both activities are fun and bring a lot of benefits. But some people just don’t see it. They believe that boys are supposed to go and do sport because it is more masculine than spending time reading books in the library. You hate those who have that mentality. Reading helps to build the muscles in the brain just like doing sport helps to build the muscles in the body.

“Hey y/n, are you coming to the game today?”

Clint asks you as the school bell starts to ring. You are putting your thick history book in your black backpack, looking at him with an apologizing face.

“No man. I have to return some books.”

Clint rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh.

“Really man? Can’t you return them tomorrow? I think Linda is gonna be cool with that. Not like she doesn’t know who you are.”

Clint does have a point. You and Linda know each other due to the countless number of time you have been to the library. Linda is a great librarian, super cool too. It is easy to strike a conversation with her and she has been very helpful in recommending the best book to read.

“Sorry, Clint. Can’t do that to Linda. Plus, I do need to borrow some books too. I see you tomorrow!”

You excuse yourself before Clint uses all his power to seduce you and make you change your mind. Clint is pretty good at convincing people and you don’t want to be one of his victim today.

“Alright, goody shoe! See you tomorrow!” he shouts as you have already sprint out from the classroom.

You let out a little laugh hearing that from him. Shaking your head, you take out your earphone and put on your favourite playlist. The hallway is full with teenage kids who are as eager as you to get home. You ignore the loud noise coming from them by blasting off the good music in your ear. Humming along with the song, you walk down the street, going to the library.

It only takes you 20 minutes to arrive at the library. It is a favourite place of yours since the private library is not overly huge and the decoration and vibes are calming. Plus, it also has a beautiful garden outside where you can chill under the big shady trees and just enjoying your time reading some books. It has always been your place since you were a kid. The owner was a close friend to your parent. It is safe to say that this library can be the definition of your childhood playground.

Once you step your feet inside the building, Linda who sits at the counter, gives you a smile and a small wave.

“Hi, Linda. How are you?”

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m good. How about you?”

“Never better. I’m returning these though.” You take out the books from your bag, placing them on the counter. She nods and takes them to be placed near her.

“You finished these fast.” She smiles and you can see the proudness and shock in the smile.

“Just got a lot of free time, you know.” You grin before disappearing to look for more books to read.

Later that night, you sit on your study desk. Open the books you have borrowed from the library, you are searching for something. Curious if there is a hidden gem in there. You have noticed a pattern from the previous books you borrowed.

Page 62.

You manage to find the hidden gift. A pressed flower.

You take it out from the book and it glows in your hand. You stare and analyze the glowing flower before placing it in a crystal clear box along with the rest of the pressed flowers. You wonder why there is always a pressed flower on page 62 every time the previous borrower of the book was JBB. You wonder who is that person? You wonder why is the pressed flower glows when you touched it?  Is this a clue for something important? Is the person trying to give a sign of rescue? Should you just ask Linda who is this JBB? You shrug it off and start to read the book before you go to bed. You will find the answer later but now you just need to enjoy this alone moment of yours.

You just stare at the guy, he walks into the cafeteria with this aura where you can’t help but to stare. You almost choke on your sandwich as Clint shouts his name.

“Bucky!”

Clint gives you a smirk when he hears you coughing.

Asshole.

Bucky walks to your table. Him and his other friends, Steve and Sam. You have always have a thing for him but he is way too out of league. He is the James Dean of the town. Effortlessly charming. Although you can get along with his group of friends, you still feel small and shy around him. For example, right at this moment. But you still try to keep your cool.

“Sup!” Sam greets us first followed by Bucky and Steve. They are talking about yesterday’s game but once in a while you join in the conversation but most of the time you fail as you can sense that Bucky is looking at you. The guy does not trying to make it seem low key, he makes it obvious. The confidence that you will never have when confronting him. You at last, stare at your sandwich feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment from Bucky’s staring.

As you are about to take a bite, you hear a sound of a chair being pulled next to you. Looking up, you see Bucky smiles softly at you.

“If you don’t mind, I wanna sit here.”

“You already did, idiot!” Sam smacks his head which brings a loud laughter from the other boys. You just smile.

“No, no no. It is fine. I don’t mind at all.”

“Thank you. By the way, that’s a good book. I love the plot.” He points at the book on the table.

You smile widely. “Do you really? I have been wanting to read this one for quite some time and thank god I found it in the library!” You tell him excitedly.

“The library down the road? Oh interesting! But yea, it is a good one. You wouldn’t wanna stop reading it, trust me!” He chuckles at his own words.

The lunch time is well spent as you talk about the book with the cute boy, Bucky. It is the highlight of the day. It is all that you can think about until you totally forgot to drop by the library to ask Linda about a person named JBB. It is during the night when you see your box with a few pressed flowers that you remember about the mystery of the JBB person. This is the fifth book where you found a pressed flower in the book which the previous borrower is named JBB. You have been looking for other clue but nothing. It just the same. Page 62, JBB and a pressed flower.

“What did you say?” Clint asks you again in disbelief after you told him about the mystery of pressed flowers.

“Yeah. It is confusing. Do you think it is some sort of SOS or something?” you ask him back.

You two are on the way to the library. You will see whether if Linda is there to get some answer and then chill at the garden of the library. Clint? He is just there to get some coffee at the café in front of the library.

“Maybe that. Or maybe someone just so into making magical pressed flowers.” He keeps a serious tone.

You just roll your eyes at him. “You are an asshole. Do you know that?”

“Cmon man. I have no magic power. The only way is just to find the JBB person and figure that out.  Or maybe we can google that shit up. Why does a dried pressed flower glow?” he just shrugs at you when you stare at him but Clint does have a point.

Google that shit up.

And so you did.

You choke on your iced latte reading the article.

“You ok, bro?” Clint asks you, a little concerned.

“I-im ok. It just – look” you hand him your phone.

Clint takes the phone and scans the article.

“Soulmates?” his eyes go wide at the word. “The mysterious person is your soulmate?”

You nod at his answer. JBB is your possible soulmate.

You can’t stop thinking about it. You really thought you could have something wonderful with Bucky. You swear you feel special, magical with him. Like he is your real soulmate, not this stranger whom you never knew about.

You walk slowly to the library. You see Linda at the counter and you start to feel sick in your stomach. You feel nervous. What if the person who is talking to her right now is your soulmate? He looks older than you. That scared the hell out of you. What if the guy with the headphone? You shake your head. You keep looking for the possible JBB in the library until you see someone familiar outside of the library through the big glassdoor. You make your way to the garden so that you can talk to him. His appearance makes you feel calmer now.

Bucky is walking around the garden, enjoying the beautiful flowers around him. There is a book in his hand. It makes you smile. He plays sports for fun but he is a science nerd. He looks like a jock with his build up body but he is a sweetheart. Bucky is perfect for you. Everything he does brings a smile to your face and you refuse to believe that he is not your soulmate.

You see him stops next to a bunch of pink roses. He sniffs the roses and smiles before he picks up a pink rose and places it in the book he is holding.

“Bucky?” you call him.

He turns around to you. Red face because he gets caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“What were you doing?” you ask him, getting closer to him.

“I-I was” his voice trembles.

“Are you JBB?” you make yourself ask him the question. You really hope he knows what you are talking about.

He looks at your face in disbelief. Now it is your turn to feel embarrassed. He probably thinks you are crazy. You look at your shoes, whispering “I’m sorry Bucky. Forget it.” He grabs your arm right before you leave him.

“Are you – are you my soulmate y/n?”

You keep quiet.

“Are you?” he asks again softly.

“I – I think so” you reply.

He immediately pulls you into his arms and hugs you. “I knew it is gonna be you.” He whispers to himself. You smile at his words. Being in his embrace makes you feel at peace. He is your other half and you are more than happy to find it out.

“I was afraid it wasn’t you.” You say to him.

“Me too but I’m always hoping that it is you even we haven’t know each other properly.” He chuckles.  It is true that you haven’t get to know each other properly because you are too nervous to be talking to him or even looking at his eyes because there is this strong feeling in your gut that makes you feel nervous.

“It is ok, Bucky. We have our whole life to get to know one another.” You look at him and smile. He returns your smile and leans in to kiss your nose.

“You thought I was gonna kiss your lips? You didn’t even know my full name, y/n!” he smirks making you shy. “Jerk!” you push him off your body and he laughs at you.

“It is James Buchanan Barnes” he says to tease you.

“Shut up, Bucky!” you walk off to get inside the library instead of stuck at the garden with your soulmate.

He runs to catch up to you.

“Here.” He hands you another pink rose.

You look at him and to the rose in his hand. You take it and it glows.

“It does really glow huh when you touch a flower given by your soulmate?” It excites him to see the glowing rose in your hand. You smile and nod. “Yes, James Buchanan Barnes. It does.”

Permanent: @mizz-kraziii @queenoftrash97 @fran-writes@amindfulloffanfictions @grosskyjaja @v-2bucky @jaysaku@ria132love@plumsforbuckxx

[saythename-kpopaus]

Seventeen High School!AU

check out the series inspired by this au here!

S.Coups ~ The Jock 

He’s pretty much your stereotypical jock 

Sports are love, sports are life 

Throw any sport at him and he’ll play it like a god 

Captain of the baseball, football and basketball team 

And to be honest getting good grades really aren’t his top priority 

Can get pretty obnoxious and loud at times

He just has too much energy to spare 

Overall a very good and caring leader and friend 

Jeonghan ~ The Diva 

So at first he seems like an angel 

I mean he’s gorgeous 

Long silky hair that every girl would kill for 

Beautiful smile 

Amazing voice 

But underneath that he’s pretty sadistic 

And sassy 

If you even dream about pissing him off he’ll run his damn mouth off on you 

Gives the best fashion advice

And if you’re wearing something ugly he’ll be sure to point it out in the most offensive manner possible 

The kind of guy to say “GeT In LOSer we’RE GOIng shOPpING.” 

Joshua ~ The Class President 

Honestly every girl has a crush on this precious boy some guys too 

He’s such a sweetheart 

So kind and gentle towards everybody 

Every teacher’s dream student

Organizes special school days every week 

Pajama day 

Disney Day 

Twin Day 

He’ll even try to organize special pizza lunches with the cafeteria 

If you want to talk about something, he’s your guy 

School? Homework? Stress? Some amazing food you had the other day? He’ll listen to anything and give helpful advice if needed

Jun ~ The Fuck Boy 

Don’t even think about fighting me on this 

This boy has the looks, the cocky attitude, the self-confidence, everything

Everyone in the school knows about his dirty game but he’s too damn hard to resist 

He’s dated every girl in the school at least once 

Some guys as well 

Usually gets into fights with the boyfriends of girls he ‘flirts’ with 

He’s a wushu master, so don’t even think about fighting him he’ll kick your ass 

He will do anything to get his way 

Hoshi ~ The Prankster 

He lives to prank 

The kind of person to draw penises and other weird stuff on your forehead whenever you pass out a party 

Gives out soy in Coca Cola bottles

Leaves Silly String in the hallway

Puts pictures of the weirdest memes on people’s lockers

Even takes the time to paint the occasional rainbow dick in the boy’s washroom 

His best prank was during his sophomore year where he released harmless pet-store snakes into the school hello two weeks of suspension and four weeks of detention

Jisoos please save this kid 

Wonwoo ~ The Bookworm

Books, books, books 

Never seen without a book 

In class? Book in his binder. At lunch? Book in his lunch box. Taking out the garbage? Book in his back pocket. 

Literally lives at the library 

Ask him any question and he will give you an hour long answer 

This boy knows his stuff 

Woozi ~ The Band Nerd

The ultimate band nerd 

Is in jazz band, concert band, and marching band 

He even joined a chamber ensemble in his freshman year 

He has to wake up at 6 literally every day of the week to make it to morning practices 

But goes to bed at midnight because he’s writing songs 

So yeah no wonder he’s always grumpy 

Can learn any instrument you throw his way just give him a week

Although he mostly prefers instruments like the guitar, piano, and clarinet 

DK ~ The Ray of Sunshine 

Two words

ENERGETIC. PUPPY.

He never calms down. Ever.

Life is like a sugar high to him

He’s the kid that always talks or laughs way too loud

You can literally hear him coming from ten miles away so rest in peace whoever has a locker next to him

He’s always so happy 

Nobody ever knows why and it gets annoying sometimes 

But if you’re having a bad day he’s there to cheer you up <3 

Mingyu ~ The Heartthrob 

So long story short, everyone either wants to date him or be him 

He’s tall 

Muscular 

Handsome like a god bless him 

Super smart 

Always finishes the top of his class 

He’s even the captain of the swim team 

He’s the whole package 

The8 ~ The Bad Boy 

I love my badass China line 

Where to start with this kid? 

Black. 

He loves black

Everything he wears is black it’s gotta be black 

Dyes his hair a new color every week 

Strangely enough it’s every color but black 

Everyone’s scared of him even though they’ve never heard him talk 

He’s a pretty quiet guy 

Always keeps to himself 

Unless someone tries to start a fight with him 

Then things get real ugly 

Rumors sometimes go around saying that he’s in a gang 

Seungkwan ~ The Gossiper

Keeping secrets? What is that? 

He’s the king of gossip 

He knows everyone’s secrets before they know themselves 

And before they figure it out half the school already knows 

If anyone tries to mess with him it’s all over for them 

He’ll use blackmail or hang up incriminating and embarrassing pictures of them all over the school

So he basically owns the school 

You want dirt on someone? Revenge? He’s your guy 

Vernon ~ The Meme Lord 

Listen, memes are this kid’s life 

If you even think about trash talking memes he’ll kick your ass 

Actually got suspended once after slapping the shit out of someone that said kermit memes were dumb

His entire camera roll 9471 pictures to be precise is made up of the highest quality memes you will ever see 

Shrek memes? 300 of them.

Salt Bae? He is the Salt Bae.

The Forbidden Fruit? You fucking betcha. 

Not those overdone minion memes though “those minion memes are the reason why harambe died in the first place” 

Has a meme reaction photo for every scenario and response you can ever think of

He shares his memes with his friends, peers, and even strangers on the street and yes he’ll share his memes with you righT IN FRONT OF YOUR SALAD 

Dino ~ The Over Excited Freshman 

He has N O  C H I L L 

He wants to be friends with E V E R Y O N E 

Tries to get invited to all the parties 

Wants to join all the clubs, classes, teams, everything 

He’s not really an overachiever, just the kind of guy that lives on ‘YOLO’

Gets so pumped when there’s a pep rally he’s always the loudest one cheering 

Is so immersed with the special school days that Joshua plans 

Like you can fucking bet that he’ll dress up as Ariel for Disney Day 

Or come to school in a dragon onesie for Pajama Day 

He’s so bubbly and pure and soft and everyone loves this child 

~ Admin Calypso {｡^◕‿◕^｡}

[someinvisible-string]

I Don’t Need You to Save Me (But Would You Run Away With Me)

Summary: A lot can happen in ten years; mistakes, triumphs, questions, and answers, all things that Killian Jones doesn't know if he wants or even deserves. But with his 10 year high school reunion, he will have to finally come face to face with the center of all his questions and perhaps get the answers he needs.

A/N: This fic would be near as good if it weren't for my wonderful beta @writemyanchor , nor would it exist without the Captain Swan Little Bang. Beautiful artwork by @shippingtheswann  

Trigger Warnings for financial and verbal abuse and mentions of past physical abuse.

AO3

Storybrooke—Present Day

Killian stared at himself in the mirror attempting to work his tie into a presentable knot, which was proving difficult with one hand. He sighed and tossed it onto his dresser, feeling frustrated. Yet another reason to skip out on his 10-year high school reunion. Others being that he needed to catch up on some shows that were piling up on his DVR and the mountain of essays that needed grading sitting on his kitchen counter.

His phone ringing shook him out of his thoughts and he fished his phone out of his back pocket without bothering to look at his caller ID.

“Hello, David,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“You’re coming tonight,” was all David had to say in response.

“I don’t know...” Killian started, but David cut him off.

“Come on man, don’t you want to see everyone?”

“David, everyone still lives here; I see everyone from school all the time.”

“Not everyone.”

“You know she won’t be there,” Killian sighed, thinking about reason number one (and really the only reason) he didn’t want to go to this reunion.

“You don’t know that. She could surprise us all,” David said.

“We haven’t heard from her since she ran away.”

“So? Doesn’t mean she still can’t come tonight.”

“That is highly unlikely.”

“Stranger things have happened. Look just come to the thing, please? Mary Margaret busted her butt working on this and she’d love for you to come. Just stay for one drink.”

Killian ran his hand through his hair, knowing that he really wasn’t going to be able to get out of going tonight. “All right, just one drink though.”

“Great! We’ll see you at Granny’s!” David hung up before Killian could say anything else. He sat down on his bed, head in his hand. He could feel a migraine beginning to brew behind his eyes, but he had said he’d go for at least one drink and if Killian Jones was anything, he was a man of his word.

He got up, taking one last look in the mirror and deciding against the tie tonight. He was most likely going to be there for only a half hour, an hour tops, with people he saw nearly every day.  No need to impress anyone.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Emma sat in yet another administrative office swinging her legs back and forth as she waited for another new set of foster parents to finish signing all the forms officially enrolling her in Storybrooke High School. The Smiths seemed all right as far as new foster parents went. She was their only foster child; they had another biological daughter who was away at college, but Emma had been with many “nice enough” foster families who turned out to be anything but. She had to leave her last foster home when someone noticed the bruises on her arms and figured out that her foster father had taken to hitting her and the other children with a thick switch. He did it when they did anything he deemed “out of order” and everything seemed to be out of order there. Emma still had a particularly nasty bruise on her shoulder for accidentally knocking his beer into his lap.

“All right, Emma,” her new principal said as she opened the door to her office. “You’re all signed in, and now I just have a few things to go over with you.”

“Okay.” Emma hitched her worn backpack higher on her unbruised shoulder.

“Here is your schedule for the semester,” she said, handing Emma a thick piece of stock paper. “Now seeing as how you are coming to us mid-semester, we’ve taken the liberty of assigning you to a tutor during your study hall period on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“I’m sure I can catch up on my own,” Emma said, her jaw tight and her shoulders squared.

“Be that as it may, I would feel much better if you had some help starting out. Give it a month and if your teachers tell me that you are caught up with the material, then you can tell your tutor that you’ll no longer be needing his services.”

“Fine,” Emma sighed and took her schedule from the principal.

“I hope you enjoy your time here at Storybrooke High,” she said, trying to smile warmly at her.

Emma bit her tongue, keeping her sarcastic retort in her mouth where it belonged and simply nodded at the woman. She made her way out of the office and into the hall, schedule in hand and no idea where to go.

“Hi!”

Emma looked up and saw a chipper brunette with a pixie cut waving enthusiastically at her. Emma instantly knew she had to be one of those perky student council types administration always asked to show the transfer students around.

“I’m Mary Margaret,” the girl continued, “and Mrs. Pendragon told me to show you around for the day! It’s nice to meet you.” She took Emma’s hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, too...” Emma replied, forcing a smile. She knew exactly what she was in for: a chipper goody two-shoes shadowing her around the school and giving her useless bits of information about a school that’s only been around for 20 years or so instead of the good stuff like which bathroom was the easiest to sneak out of or what food in the cafeteria to avoid.

“So to start off, I guess I’ll tell you a little about the school. Storybrooke High was founded in 1983,” Mary Margaret prattled on as they walked down the hall.

As far as Emma could see, Storybrooke High was one big building with the athletic fields nearby and a seemingly massive football stadium. There were various trophies displayed in a large glass case in the main hall that seemed to be the central hub of the school, leading her to believe that sports were a big deal there.

“Oh, and you have to join yearbook! It’s a great way to get involved and see what’s going on and I’m not saying that just because I’m the editor.” Mary-Margaret’s voice broke Emma out of her thoughts.

Emma didn’t have the heart to tell her that with her record she probably wouldn’t be there by the end of the year to see the actual book published. So instead she settled with, “Oh thanks, but I think I should just try to focus on school work before I start joining clubs and stuff.”

“Of course.” Mary Margaret started to say something else, but was interrupted by the bell ringing. “Oh, is it lunch time already?”

“Looks like it,” Emma said as students started flooding the halls and floating towards the cafeteria.

“Well, why don’t you come sit with me and my friends? I promise they’re all super nice!”

“Oh um, well actually...” Emma stuttered. She had never received an invitation to sit with her tour guide before. “I should probably go get my books from the library, you know?”

Mary Margaret’s face fell. “Oh, okay. Do you want me to show you where the library is then?”

“You don’t have to miss part of your lunch for me. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll find my way.” Emma followed the directions Mary Margaret had given her, feeling a small twinge of guilt in her chest as she walked away.

It’s for the best, she told herself. What’s the use in making friends when you’re probably going to have to move again anyways?

If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that it sucked being the new kid. Everyone already had their friends and cliques so it was almost worse being the person who hovered awkwardly around the edges of the group than just being “the loner.” The absolute worst was getting just close enough to someone to start even considering them a friend, only to have something happen that would force Emma to change foster families again.

New family. New school. New kids.

Same bullshit.

Storybrooke—Present Day

Killian opened the door to the diner, a quick survey of the room showing him that his expectations of the night hadn’t been far off. Mary Margaret and David sat in their usual booth in the corner and Ruby Lucas was serving drinks behind the bar, holding court with her old posse of theater nerds while Victor Whale stood by and tried to flirt with her. Killian had an odd little flashback to high school, everyone sitting in similar spots as they did in the cafeteria. The meathead jocks–now meathead businessmen–sat together with their cheerleader-turned-PTA parent wives. Thankfully, he saw the school librarian and one of his close friends, Belle French, sitting in a corner by herself. So Killian got himself a drink and sat down next to her.

“Suddenly high school doesn’t seem like it was ten years ago does it?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she said, “you’d think people would have changed somewhat in a decade.”

“Maybe at our twenty-year reunion, then?” he smiled at her, glad to have a companion for the night. He opened his mouth to ask her how the library renovations were going. After taking over for her mother, Belle had finally found enough money in the budget to put all new computers in. However, Killian was disrupted from his thoughts when the bell above the front door chimed.

“Oh my god,” Belle said once she saw who walked in.

Killian turned and his jaw instantly dropped because Emma Swan, a vision in red, had once again walked unexpectedly into his life.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Emma breathed a sigh of relief once she entered the library. At least no matter what school she was in, the libraries were there to comfort her with their familiar and soothing, musty scent.

She walked up to the librarian and handed her her schedule. “I need some textbooks, please.”

“Well, we’ll get these for you, dear. I’ll grab the textbooks from the back and the books for your English class are going to be in those two back shelves.” She handed Emma a list of novels to check out and pointed to the back corner.

Emma groaned inwardly as she pulled her required texts from the shelves. She had read The Great Gatsby twice and Romeo and Juliet three times already. Hopefully, her English teacher would take pity on her and let her read something else.

Emma walked back to the front desk to find a guy about her age standing there instead of the nice librarian from before.

“She’s still in the back getting your textbooks, but I can check out those books for you if you want,” he explained, motioning to the stack in her hands. He was tall and lanky, with a nose he still needed to grow into, and the bluest eyes Emma had ever seen.

“Thanks.” Emma put her books on the desk and he wrote down the titles in an old record book. “They keep it old school here, don’t they?”

“If it ain’t broke, no need to fix it,” he shrugged. “At least that’s what Mrs. French always says when I try to talk her into getting a new system.”

“A bit stubborn, I’m guessing?”

“Just a tad,” he smiled at her, extending his hand for her to shake, and Emma noted that the kids at that school seemed to really be into the whole hand-shaking thing. “I’m Killian.”

“Emma,” she returned with a small smile.

“You’re new, I take it?”

“What was your first clue?” Emma tilted her head in mock confusion.

“I don’t know, just something about you. Maybe your expression?”

“Ha ha,” Emma laughed with a roll of her eyes.

“All right, dear, here are your books.” Mrs. French the librarian returned, heaving the stack of books onto the desk.

“I told you I could have gotten those for you,” Killian said to the woman.

“Nonsense, dear, it’s good for my health.” She waved him away with a roll of her eyes. “So, you two have been getting to know each other?”

“A bit, yeah,” Killian said, looking at Emma with a curious expression.

Suddenly she felt her walls slam back up, knowing she couldn’t make the same mistakes she’d made before: too many boys with kind smiles and sweet words had hurt her more than she ever could have expected.

She wasn’t going to be stupid this time around.

“Yeah, just a bit. I should go put these in my locker before next period,” she said, grabbing her books off the desk.

“You want some help?” Killian called after her.

“I got it,” Emma half shouted over her shoulder, knowing that she probably wouldn’t be going into that library again.

Storybrooke—Present Day

“I can’t believe she’s here,” Belle whispered to an awestruck Killian.

“Yeah,” he responded, his eyes taking in the sight of a woman he had not seen in over a decade. Her blonde hair was curled and looked so soft he longed to run his fingers through it. Then there was the tight red dress and sky high heels that left little to the imagination.

“Well, aren’t you going to say something to her?” Belle asked him.

“I-I-” Killian scrambled for words. “What would I even say to her?”

“How about, ‘Hi! How have you been since high school?’” Belle raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s what these reunions are for.”

“Belle, you don’t understand,” Killian whispered in a rush, “I can’t just go up to her.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Jesus, Killian, just do it.” Belle pushed him harder than he was expecting for a woman half his size and he nearly fell out of his chair. The whole room looked towards him, including Emma. Oh how he wished he could have just melted into the floor right there. When he imagined meeting Emma again, he was always calm, cool, collected and in control of the situation. This moment could not have been further from his imagination.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

The first few days at Storybrooke High went by fast for Emma. She attended her classes, lived through the embarrassing announcements from teachers that she was new, and had even found a nice, grassy hilltop where she could spend her lunch period alone with a book. By Friday, she knew her way around the school well enough that she only got turned around once. However, that one mix-up led to her running late to her study hall period, forcing her to stumble into the library and hurry to a seat.

“Well, hello again.”

Emma looked up and saw Killian with that soft, kind smile of his.

“Do you live in here or something?” she asked incredulously, pulling her Algebra II textbook out of her backpack.

“Let’s go with ‘or something’,” he said, staying seated in the chair next to her.

“Um, you might have to move soon,” she said defensively.

“Why?”

“Because I’m saving this seat for someone?”

“Well, it turns out that I was actually saving that seat you’re sitting in for someone,” he smirked at her. “The girl I’m tutoring.”

Realization dawned on Emma as she took in his smug expression—the obvious air of superiority and the pity in his eyes.  

Emma definitely didn’t need nor want anything from him.

“Look, I didn’t ask for a tutor,” she finally said. “The principal just gave me one in case I needed to catch up and I’m perfectly capable of catching up on my own.” Emma couldn’t help the slight bite in her tone, but she didn’t care.

“Okay, point taken.” Killian leaned back, holding his hands up in defeat. “Well, since they probably aren’t going to just unassign me from being your tutor, I have a proposition for you.” Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but he was quick to say, “Not like that!” a bit too loudly, considering they were in a library.

Killian’s blush matched Emma’s as several other students around them turned their way.  He lowered his head and leaned closer to her, speaking quietly, “What I’m trying to say is that we can just be study partners. We can do homework together and help each other out if we need to.”

Emma mulled it over. At least this way when she had a question it wouldn’t feel as embarrassing to ask him. The playing field would be even. And in all honesty, Mr. Spencer was a really hard teacher and she didn’t really have the best Algebra II teacher at her last school.

“Okay,” she shrugged.  “I guess we can give it a shot.” They ended up shaking on it, and Emma told herself that the little tingle of electricity that shot up her arm when their hands touched was simply because she was excited to do better in the class than she originally expected. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Killian may have been the closest thing she’d had to a friend in ages.

Storybrooke—Present Day

Killian could hear the whispers directed towards Emma as she walked up to the bar and he recalled all of the rumors that had cropped up when she suddenly stopped coming to school all those years ago.

“She’s in the Witness Protection Program and had to leave for her safety!”

“No, no. She’s the criminal and had to leave because the cops were after her!”

“No. I heard it was because she got knocked up and her foster family didn’t want her anymore!”

“Nah, she ran off with the baby daddy!”

None of the so-called “theories” were ever close to why she actually left, and only Killian really knew what had happened. He felt a stone of residual anger plummet in his stomach at the memory.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret called and parted the crowd of people milling about. She enveloped Emma in a hug when she finally got to her and Killian could see Emma’s shoulders tense as her eyes widened in surprise—she never was great with receiving the love and kindness she deserved. Nevertheless, Mary Margaret guided Emma back to the booth that she and David occupied with a few of their friends.

Emma sat on the very edge seat, the closest to the door, because she was always ready to run  Even after ten years, Killian could still read her like an open book.

“What happened between you two?” Belle asked, bringing him back to the present

“A lot, Belle. I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay. But, Killian, you really should go and talk to her. I’m sure whatever happened between you can be mended.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not saying you have to make things right in a night, but you should at least make the first step towards making things better. What’s that thing you always tell me?”

Killian looked down at his clenched hand. “‘A man unwilling to fight, deserves what he gets.’”

“And what exactly is hiding in the corner with me going to get you?” She smirked triumphantly at him. Killian groaned and looked towards the ceiling, knowing that Belle had a point.

“Fine, I’ll go talk to her.” He stood up, his hand sweaty and knees weak. His heart felt like it would beat right out of his chest as he walked towards her. Everything else fell to the wayside and suddenly all he could see was her.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Emma tried to keep Killian at arm's length, tried to keep her walls up so that when and if she eventually had to leave the only one who got hurt would be her. But the thing about Killian Jones, she was learning, was that he had a way of slowly knocking those walls down, one by one.

Somewhere in those study hall hours spent trying to decipher their homework, Emma stopped fearing that she would suddenly need to be moved to a new home or that she might need to take matters into her own hands and run away. Instead, her head was filled with the little jokes and comments Killian made while trying to work through their homework, the way his blue eyes brightened whenever she actually laughed with him, the way his bangs would sometimes flop over his forehead and into his eyes. She tried, unsuccessfully, not to think about how much she wanted to brush those locks of hair with her hand.  

One day, there was a particularly large amount of homework Mr. Spencer had assigned in order to prepare them for his upcoming midterm...or so he had said. Emma just thought he enjoyed the loud groans of frustration coming from his class.

“Swan?” Killian asked, using her last name as he had taken to calling her. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to get through all this homework in study hall.”

“You’re right,” Emma said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is just a cruel and unusual amount of homework.”

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go to Granny’s after school so we can finish and then start studying for his midterm,” he said in a rush.

Emma could read between the lines. This wasn’t an innocent invitation to study; this was an invitation to something more. Her heart sank when she realized she was going to have to say no to whatever he had in mind.

“Oh, Killian, I’m sorry, but I actually have to go look for a job after school.” Emma knew he was trying to hide it, but she could see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Oh, no worries then. I understand. You should try the movie theater. They’re always looking for people there.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you trying to save up for college?”

Emma shook her head. “My foster parents think it’ll be a good way to get to know people here and my caseworker agrees.” Emma didn’t really like telling people that she was in the foster system since she already stuck out enough as a new kid in ratty hand-me-downs. She didn’t need people knowing that she was an orphan on top of that.

But with Killian, she didn’t want to keep that part of herself a secret anymore.

“Well, if you want to get to know people here, you should get a job at Granny’s. Her granddaughter Ruby is in our grade and she knows everyone.”

“You think Granny would hire me?”

“I don’t see why not. Trust me, if Ruby can work there, so can you.”

And with that, Killian met her on the front steps of the school once the final bell rang and they walked to Granny’s Diner together. Once inside, Killian discreetly pointed to an older woman who was slinging out plates onto the front counter faster than she could say “Order Up!”

“That’s Granny,” Killian said. “Just go introduce yourself and tell her you’re interested in a job here. You have your resume in your backpack, so you’re all set.” Gently, he pushed her towards Granny, who was right in the middle of taking someone’s order.

“I can’t do it now, she’s talking to someone!” Emma tried to turn and walk out the door, but Killian caught her by the elbow.

“Look, she’s finished! Go on. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”

“Can I get you kids anything, or are you just going to block my doorway?” Granny asked, suddenly in front of them with her hands on her hips and a half-smile that made her look authoritative and friendly at the same time.

“Yes, actually,” Emma said before she lost her nerve. “A job, please? I would like a job.”

“Hmm, what hours can you work, darlin’?”

“After school? And on weekends. I can even come in and open if you need me to some days.”

“Ever worked in a diner before?”

“Once, in Minnesota.” Emma handed Granny her resume, hoping she didn’t ask any more questions about that. Her foster family in Minnesota had been so awful that she had started sleeping in the restaurant’s boiler room just to avoid going home. It was a wonder she never got caught.

“Well then,” Granny said, perusing Emma’s resume over the top of her half-moon glasses, “it looks like you’ve got a job, Miss Swan.”

“Really?” Emma said, looking over at Killian in disbelief.

“Really. Now come back tomorrow after school and we’ll start training you when it’s slow.”

Emma smiled brighter than she had in a long time. “Thank you!”

Storybrooke—Present Day

“Emma?” Killian tapped her on the shoulder, not sure what he was expecting her to do when she saw him. He wasn’t expecting the smile that she gave him when she turned and realized it was him.

“Killian?” she said in disbelief, her eyes scanning up and down his body.

“Aye, love, it’s me,” he said, standing a bit straighter. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too. How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good. A bit surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“You can thank me for that,” Mary Margaret piped in.

“She tracked me down online last month and practically forced me to come,” Emma smirked.

“I did not force you! I just suggested that you should come up from Boston and visit us,” Mary Margaret said innocently

“Yes, to the point that I thought if I didn’t say ‘yes’ you’d drive down and force me into your car.”

“Well, however I persuaded you to come, the point is you’re here! We missed you! For a minute, it seemed like you weren’t going to come.”

Emma shot a quick look at Killian who averted his gaze to the drink in his hand. A deep feeling of shame brewed in his chest because he knew what had happened—what he had done to make Emma want to leave and never come back.

She probably didn’t think he’d come tonight.

“Well, I’m here now,” Emma deflected with a wave of her hand. “I’d much rather hear about how you’re doing. How’s Leo?” she asked Mary-Margaret.

As Mary Margaret launched into talking about her and David’s son, Killian allowed himself to look at Emma a bit more closely. She looked as beautiful as she always had: her arms were toned and muscular; her face had matured, and her expression was brighter and more open than it had been years ago.

His eyes darted down to her left hand and he couldn’t help the excited swoop in his chest when he didn’t find a ring on her fourth finger.

“Earth to Killian,” Mary Margaret waved at him, pulling him out of his trance.

“Right, sorry. What were we talking about?”

“Your job, remember? How you’re a teacher now?”

“Oh right, sorry. I must have zoned out for a moment.” He blushed furiously.

Smooth, Killian. Real smooth.

“What subject do you teach?” Emma asked.

“AP European History and Honors US History.”

“You always did love history,” Emma said with a small smile.

“Aye, I did. What about you, Swan? Where do you work?”

“I’m a cop in Boston,” she said, but Killian could tell there was something she was keeping from them.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest, gripping her upper arms protectively. She had always done that back then.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Killian and Emma had ended up staying at the diner for a while after Granny offered her a job. Emma had some forms to fill out and they ended up studying for the midterm until it got dark.

“Killian?” Emma asked as he walked her home. “Can I ask you something?”

“You already did, but sure.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile slightly at his teasing. “What I told you earlier, about how I’m in the foster system...Could you please not tell anyone? It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything...”

“You just want people to know on your own terms,” Killian finished.

“Yeah.”

“No problem, Swan. I understand.”

“You do?”

“I was in a group home for a few months, two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she started, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“It’s not your fault. My dad walked out on me, my brother, and my mom when I was three. My mom got sick and, well, she didn’t get better so my brother had to prove he was able to take care of me. Now it’s just me and Liam.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I know. I can’t imagine how difficult it would be not to have someone on the outside.” Killian rocked back nervously on his heels. “Well, I shared. What’s your story, Swan?”

Emma rolled her eyes at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

 Emma turned and saw his earnest expression. It was clear he wanted to know her; her vulnerabilities, walls, and secrets. It was all too much because she had never bothered to get this close to anyone in a long time.

It excited her.

It terrified her.

“I can walk the rest of the way back myself,” she said quickly before Killian could protest, she had hurried ahead of him. Arms crossed, head down, and refusing to look back.

Storybrooke—Present Day

“So how do you like it? Your job I mean,” Killian said hoping, he wasn’t overstepping.

“I like it,  but I actually need a refill. Talk later, yeah?” Emma said, holding up her nearly empty glass. She rushed back towards the bar before David could reach their group.

“Is she alright?” David asked Mary Margaret.

“I hope so. I mean, I remember her being a bit skittish back in the day.  I thought since she agreed to come tonight, she might have come out of her shell a bit more.”

“Maybe this is her out of her shell,” David joked.

“No. It’s not,” Killian muttered, his eyes still on Emma as she stood at the bar. “Well, you always knew her the best back then,” Mary Margaret shrugged. “She asked if you would be here tonight.”

His head whipped back to Mary-Margaret. “She did?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I was trying so hard to get you to come tonight?” David said, nudging Killian in the shoulder.

“I think you should go talk to her,” Mary Margaret said.

Killian sighed, looking towards the bar. “You’re right.”

With shaking hands he hoped no one noticed, Killian walked to her while simultaneously trying to figure out what to say.

“You always come after me,” Emma said as he approached, her back still to Killian as she waited for her refill.

“Old habits die hard, I suppose...” He took the place beside her, signaling Ruby for another drink.

“I’m a big girl, Killian.” Emma kept her eyes in front of her. “I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Killian said, trying and failing to keep the edge out of his voice.

Emma turned to him, anger and hurt written all over her face.“You have no right to talk to me like that.”

Killian turned to her. “Like what?”

“Like...Like somehow you were more affected by it than I was,” Emma all but growled.

“I’m not the one who left in the middle of the night,” he muttered, white knuckling his glass.

“You know better than anyone in this room why I had to leave. You do not get to hold that over my head, Killian.”

“I know why you had to leave, but what I don’t understand is why you never tried to contact me. No phone call, no letter.  For ten damn years, Emma. And then you just come back here and I don’t know how to even begin processing that you’re back and you’re here and...”  Killian trailed off, a lump in his throat and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“You think I don’t feel exactly what you’re feeling right now? Mary Margaret didn’t even know for sure if you were coming tonight.”

“And what if I hadn’t? Would you have even bothered to reach out if it wasn’t convenient for you?” Killian said, suddenly realizing he was shouting at her and the room had gone quiet, everyone staring at them in embarrassed curiosity.

“That fact that you have to ask that makes me wonder if I even knew you at all,” Emma said before she turned and stormed away.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Emma eased into her new job at Granny’s. The training went well and Granny was willing to work around Emma’s schedule: “If you ever feel like you need some time off to study or to go on a school trip, you come to me and I’ll make sure you get that time, honey,” Granny had told her, a firm yet gentle hand resting on Emma’s shoulder.

Her foster mother had even gone with Emma to the Bank of Storybrooke to help her open an account, “You’re almost grown up now,” she said. “You really should have your own checking account.” Mrs. Smith gave Emma’s clothes a once over. “Maybe it’s time for some new clothes, too. Every lady needs a good wardrobe.”

Emma had beamed; she had never had a foster mother offer to take her shopping for brand new clothes.

“Really?” Emma smiled. “Thank you so much.”

They walked down the street together towards the big boutique on Main Street and Emma couldn’t help but wonder...

Is this what it’s like to have a mom? Someone who offers to buy you clothes and helps you with all the scary financial stuff they should teach in school? Someone who wants to spend the afternoon with you? Without a house full of other children?

Emma couldn’t help the warm feeling in her chest as she and her foster mother drove home, then later as Mrs. Smith helped Emma organize her new clothes in her closet.

On Monday, Emma strode into study hall where she knew Killian would be waiting for her at their usual table. She was finally determined to put the past behind her; she had a new job, new wardrobe,  and maybe even a new home—at least until graduation.

Maybe Emma could have a friend too?

“Hey,” she said, dropping down into the seat next to Killian.

“Hey,” he responded, a little awkwardly, which was understandable.

“Look, I’m sorry about Thursday. Sometimes I have a hard time when people try to get to know me.” She shifted uneasily in her seat.

“It’s okay, Emma,” he smiled gently at her. “But you should know I want to get to know you...beyond how much you despise Algebra II.”

Emma laughed quietly and blushed. “Okay, I think I can handle that,” she said as relief spread across her chest.

And just like that, Emma had officially made a friend. The first one she’d since she could remember.

Storybrooke—Present Day

Killian felt awful watching Emma leave Granny’s. Regret pooled in his stomach at the way he had spoken to her, and it rooted him to the spot.

“So, that didn’t go well,” David said behind him.

Killian sighed and turned towards his friend. “Why did she come tonight?” Killian asked, paying no mind to how childish he sounded.

“It couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that she missed you, could it?”

“David, she didn’t even try to get in contact with me after she left. I stayed in this tiny town all these years. Never changed my address, my phone number, nothing. And she didn’t even try. So don’t give me that bullshit,” Killian finished bitterly before taking a long drink. The rum burned all the way down and settled uneasily in his belly.

“For a smart man, Killian, you really can be an idiot sometimes.” David sighed. “Go talk to her if you’re so hung up on why she hasn’t reached out to you all these years. Did it ever occur to you that maybe this is hard for her, too?”

“What makes you think you even know her?” Killian asked.

“Mary Margaret is persistent, she might know Emma almost as well as you do.” David shrugged as if that explained everything. “Now, I’m not going to pretend I know the full story of you and Emma. But I know that it would devastate both of you if you missed this opportunity to reconnect, all over a stupid argument you had ten years ago.”

Killian wanted to argue with David, but he knew his friend was right.

So instead, Killian downed the rest of his drink and sighed. “I think I know where she might be.”

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Once Emma and Killian became friends, they were nearly inseparable. He would sit in the diner during Emma’s shifts and afterwards they would go to his house and watch movies, do homework together, or just relax. Emma found herself telling him about everything; her past foster parents who saw her as nothing but a meal ticket, the old foster siblings that would bully and break her down until all she wanted to do was lock herself away and cry. She described the group homes, with the scratchy sheets and that musty smell that never seemed to go away.

The worst was the day Emma realized the couples looking to adopt never really stopped to look at her. Instead, they focused their attentions on the little ones—the ones who were still new and unhurt by the system. They didn’t want someone who’d spent most of her life in the system, someone who was almost eighteen and was far too sarcastic and jaded and damaged. Someone like Emma Swan.

And for each secret that Emma gave him, Killian gave her one of his own.

He told her how hard it was for him and Liam to get by and how Liam gave up a good position in the Navy just to take care of him. How Killian doubted he’d ever be able to repay Liam for everything he had sacrificed for him.

The swings on the playground halfway between Emma and Killian’s houses soon became their ‘spot.’ They would meet there and walk to school. Nights after Emma got off work,  they would linger there on the swings, toes digging into the sand as they idled, talking and prolonging their time together before going their separate ways.  

One night after Emma had gotten home from her shift, she saw her foster parents sitting at the dining room table, papers spread out in front of them and reading glasses low on their noses.

“Emma, could you come here for a moment?” her foster mother called as soon as Emma set foot in the house.

“What’s up?” Emma said, setting her backpack on the ground and sitting in one of the chairs opposite them.

It felt strange sitting at the table with them since she usually closed at Granny’s and had dinner at the diner with Killian. She ate lunch at school and in the mornings Emma was in such a rush that she only had time to grab a few granola bars out of the pantry before heading out the door.

“Well, we were going over our finances for the month,” her foster father started.

“And even with the money we’re getting from the state,” Mrs. Smith said, “it looks like this month is going to be a little tight.”

“Oh,” Emma said, ringing her hands underneath the table.

Is this it? Are they going to send me back? God, how could I have been so stupid, thinking I could have found a home?

Emma glanced back and forth between her foster parents.

“Sweetie, we don’t want to worry you, but with the new clothes and school supplies we bought you, it would be nice if we could get a little help,” Mrs. Smith continued, placing her hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“I can pay you back for the clothes,” Emma said quickly, an anxious knot forming in her chest.

“Could you? That would be wonderful,” she said with a smile.

But Emma still felt uneasy, despite her foster mother’s insistence that everything would be okay.

Storybrooke—Present Day

Killian’s feet pounded out the familiar path from Granny’s to the playground that stood between his and Emma’s old houses. He found her at the swings, listlessly swaying back and forth, her feet never leaving the ground.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, slightly out of breath as he sat in the swing next to her. It was a bit of a tight fit, but Killian managed.

“You know after you get yelled at by someone you don’t really want to sit next to them on a swing set,” Emma said, tone drawl as she looked away from him.

“Look, Emma,” Killian sighed, “I’m sorry I said all those things to you.”

“You were a real asshole back there.”

“You’re right, I was.” Killian looked down at his lap. “I just didn’t know what to say to you. I know that’s a shit reason and doesn’t excuse my behavior.”

“You know, it makes it hard to stay mad at you when you talk like Mr. Darcy,” Emma huffed.

“Aye, and I know that you’ll try your hardest to stay mad at me,” Killian smirked at her, catching her eye. Emma’s lips twitched up into the smallest of smiles, but Killian knew he was far from forgiven.

“That doesn’t mean that I’m letting you off the hook,” Emma said. “It wasn’t easy for me to come here tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“It was just too hard to come back,” she explained. “I didn’t even tell Mary Margaret I was coming until I was in my car on the way here. Even then, I had to fight with myself to not  turn my car right around and head back to Boston.”

“They aren’t here,” Killian said. Emma’s eyes snapped up at his words. “I don’t know if Mary Margaret told you, but both of them were arrested about a year after you left.”

“Serves them right,” Emma said, kicking the ground, “but that’s not entirely the reason I almost didn’t come.”

“Oh? What’s the other reason?”

“Come on, Killian, you know why.” Emma turned in her swing to face him, her eyes locking with his.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

A new quarter started and Emma could hardly believe she had made it this long with a new foster family. Both she and Killian had passed their midterms and Mr. Spencer had agreed that Emma was doing well enough that she didn’t need the required tutoring anymore.

“You know,” Emma said on their first day back from Spring Break, “you don’t have to keep hanging out with me in the new quarter. I officially don’t need a tutor according to the school.”

“Oh,” Killian said, looking down at his notebook. “I mean, I understand if you’d rather be doing other things during study hall, but if you wanted to keep studying together, that’d be cool too, I guess.”

“You still want to?”

“Of course I do,” Killian smiled, suddenly shy. “I mean, we’re friends. Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you for an extra hour a day?”

“You’re such a sap, you know that?” Emma smiled and sat down next to him.

“Only for you, love,” he grinned. “Are you working tonight?”

“No. Granny decided to let me have the day off since I worked so much during the break. Why?”

“Want to come over to my house and watch a movie?”

“Sure. I just have to stop by my house to grab a couple things real quick.”

The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough for Emma. She had been to Killian’s house plenty of times before, but she still couldn’t stop the small, excited flip in her stomach every time he asked her to hang out outside of school.

Killian walked Emma home, where Emma popped in to tell her foster mother where she was headed.

“Oh and, Emma?” Mrs. Smith called just before Emma was out the door. Emma had been afraid of that tone because she knew it well, and she knew what was coming next.

“Yes?”

“I hate to ask you again, but, well...You know how cold it’s been and we’ve been running the heat a little more than usual?”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Emma said, feeling her cheeks burn since Killian was standing right there by the front door and would undoubtedly have questions. “Can we do this later, though? Killian and I are on our way to his house to watch a movie.”

“Emma, why doesn’t your friend get a head start?” her foster mother suggested, a sudden coldness behind her eyes.

“It’s okay, Emma. I’ll meet you at the swings,” Killian said before backing out of the house.

“You know, I’d have thought you’d be a little more grateful,” Mrs. Smith said, looking down her nose at Emma.

Emma wrapped her arms around herself, feeling very small under the gaze of her supposed “guardian.”

“I am—” Emma began.

“We knew that taking in someone your age and with your history was going to be a challenge,” she continued. “And my husband and I are trying to make your life here comfortable. You must know how difficult it is for us to ask you to contribute.  Our daughter worked all through high school and she was happy to share her earnings with us. Now, if you feel like you’re too good for that then maybe I should just call your social worker and we can see about getting you moved in with a better foster family.”

“No, no,” Emma shook her head, her throat tight and her eyes clouding with tears. “Please don’t call her. I promise I can contribute if that’s what you want me to do. How much do you need?”

“How much did you make in tips over school break?”

“About two-hundred dollars,” Emma admitted quietly.

“Perfect! I think one-hundred should be enough to help us. Thank you so much for contributing to the family, Emma.” Her foster mother wrapped her arms around her, but Emma felt no warmth in her embrace.

Emma felt her heart rise to her throat as she walked upstairs to her bedroom where she kept the jar with her tips. She counted out the money with shaking hands before going back downstairs and shoving the money into Mrs. Smith’s hands.

“I’ll be back later,” Emma said as she walked out the door, feeling a weight settle on her shoulders.

She tried to shake it before Killian could tell something was wrong.

“Hey, are you okay?” Killian asked when she finally made it to the swings.

“Just a disagreement with my foster mom, but it’s fine. I handled it,” she said. “Let’s just get to your house so we can watch a movie and eat too much popcorn.” She tried to laugh, but it came out hollow and forced.

“Really? Emma, does that happen a lot?” Killian asked, concern all over his face.

“Does what happen?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Your foster mother basically asking you to pay rent.”

Emma thought for a second about how easy it would be to just tell Killian everything, but telling Killian would probably just cause more problems. He would tell his brother, and God only knows what Liam would do.

“It only happens every once in a while,” Emma explained, looking at Killian’s forehead instead of his eyes. “But please promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this?”

“Emma—” Killian took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Just promise me,” Emma said, forcing herself to look into his eyes.

“Okay.” Killian still looked worried. “But if there’s something wrong, you can tell me.”

“I know that, but really it’s fine,” Emma said. “So what movie are we watching?”

“Princess Bride?” he offered.

Emma knew he was only suggesting it because it was her favorite, but she didn’t call him out on it since she could use the comfort of the classic.

“Only if I get to freely quote the movie no matter how annoying you think it is.”

“Deal,” he smiled reluctantly, and they sped off to his and Liam’s small cottage near the docks where they spent most of the afternoon watching movies and pelting each other with little popcorn kernels.

After The Princess Bride, they put in Pirates of the Caribbean since Emma still didn’t  want to return to her house.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Killian asked as the credits rolled after the second movie.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Liam’s making spaghetti and it’s one of the few recipes he doesn’t mess up.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it’s simply an offer I can’t refuse.”

They both shared a quiet laugh and Liam came home not much later, a spark of recognition flashing across over his face when Killian introduced her to him.

“So you’re the Emma I’ve heard so much about,” Liam said. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Killian’s told you about me?” she asked, looking at Killian who was now a brilliant shade of pink.

“Can hardly stop talking about you,” Liam grinned.

“Okay, I think she gets it, brother,” Killian gritted through his teeth.

“Oh, so you’ve asked her to Spring Fling already then?” Liam asked. Emma gasped and looked over at Killian, who looked just as shocked.

“No, I hadn’t gotten a chance to yet, but thank you, Liam,” Killian growled.

“You were going to ask me to a dance?” Emma said, a nervous giggle erupting out of her mouth.

“Aye, before this git ruined it.” Killian blushed even harder.

“I’m only trying to help you out, little brother,” Liam said before leaving them for the kitchen.

“So the cat’s out of the bag, I suppose,” Killian said, scratching nervously behind his ear.

“Yeah, I guess I should get a dress then,” Emma smiled at him.

The grin that spread across Killian's face was the brightest that Emma had ever seen.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course. I’d love to go as friends,” Emma said.

She didn’t miss the flash of hurt across Killian’s face.

“As would I, Swan,” he smiled quickly.

They heard Liam calling to them from the kitchen, and less than an hour later they were having a delicious spaghetti dinner to celebrate.

But as Emma walked home from their house later that night, she couldn’t get Killian’s faltering smile out of her mind.

Storybrooke—Present Day

“What are you saying?” Killian asked her. “Killian, I don’t think it should surprise you that when I first met you I was really jaded towards the whole high school experience. I didn’t see the point of making friends because I was sure I was just going to be moved in a few weeks, so...what was the point?” She sighed, gathering her thoughts before she continued. “Then I met you and not only did you want to be my friend, but you wanted to be more.

“And that scared me more than I expected it to. And then you did what you did and...that just felt like a punch to the stomach.” Emma looked down at her hands, sniffling and blinking quickly. “It felt like you were trying to get me rehomed, which I know sounds crazy now, but I was so scared and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Emma, those people were financially abusing you. I couldn’t not say anything,” Killian said, reaching out to thread his fingers gently through her hair. He thought of the last time his hand had caressed those golden strands on that last night before she had disappeared.

“It wasn’t your secret to tell,” Emma said, pulling away from his touch.

“Aye, I know that now.” Killian looked down at his feet before looking up into her eyes once more. “I’m sorry, Swan. I never should have told anyone without coming to you first. You’re right, it was your secret to tell.” He took a deep breath and shook his head “I just couldn’t stand by and watch you be taken advantage of by those people. You deserved, you still deserve, to be treated with respect and kindness.”

Emma nodded. “I know now that what you did back then was for the best. Actually, I’m glad you did it because it means that those people are never going to get the chance to manipulate another child like me. Of course, at first, I was furious at you. That’s why I didn’t reach out.

“But as time passed, I was able to look back on the situation as an adult and I just felt so grateful and then so...guilty about what I said and how I left and...I did want to contact you. It was just that, so much time had passed that I was sure you had moved or changed your number. And even if you hadn’t, why would you take my call anyways? You probably hate me for the way I left.”

“I could never hate you, Swan,” Killian assured her.

“You sure?” Emma sighed. “I would hate me.”

“I’m not going to lie. I was angry for a long time and t I’ve let that go.” He shook his head. “But I could never hate you, love. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of you.”

Emma looked overwhelmed by his statement, her eyes wide and her lips parted as she tried to search for something to say. Finally, she settled with, “Good,” a small, nervous smile on her face.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Emma was going to a dance. Not only that, but Emma was going to a dance with a date.

A small part of her wanted to scoff that dances were lame and so was anyone who wanted to spend the night in an uncomfortable dress inside a gym that smelled like socks. But Emma couldn’t help feeling excited.

She finished up her shift at Granny’s, tip money and her paycheck burning a hole in her pocket as she wandered over to the boutique down the street from the diner. As she walked in, she saw some other girls her age shopping for dresses, each accompanied by their mothers. Emma felt a pit in her stomach; she didn’t want Mrs. Smith shopping with her because Emma knew her generosity came with a price. She felt it was best to simply use her own money to buy what she needed.

Emma began flipping through the seemingly endless racks of dresses, anxiety settling in her chest since she had no idea what she was even looking for.

“Emma!” someone called from one of the rows of dresses.

Emma looked over and saw it was Mary Margaret with her mother.

“Hi,” Emma smiled, suddenly grateful to have someone she could bounce ideas off of.

“What are you doing here? Are you going to the dance?” Mary Margaret asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I am actually. I assume you’re going too?”

“Definitely. My boyfriend David asked me today at lunch,” Mary Margaret said, looking over at the pile of dresses Emma had slung over her arm. “Is there someone helping you pick out a dress? Mrs. Smith?”

“Oh, um, no. It’s just me,” Emma said, hoisting her mountain of dresses higher up her arm.

“Did you want help, hon?” Mary Margaret’s mother offered.

“Oh no, it’s okay. Thank you, Mrs...”

“Blanchard. But please, call me Eva. And really, it’s no trouble at all. This place can be overwhelming.”

“No, really—” Emma began again.

“I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Eva insisted with a warm smile.

Emma finally gave in and shopped with Mary Margaret and her mother, and she couldn't help but compare it to the time she and her foster mother had gone shopping. Instead of hurriedly shoving clothes at her, Eva carefully considered each girl’s selection of dresses with care and thoughtfulness before handing them a few to go and try on. Then she would sit patiently and ask for poses and spins from the both of them and Emma felt a contentedness she had never felt before as she and Mary Margaret picked out their dresses.

Emma realized that while she might not know what it was like to go shopping with her mom, she did know what it was like to shopping with a girlfriend. And she had loved every minute of it.

The days leading up to the dance flew by and before Emma knew it, she was in her bedroom the night of the big event, zipping up her dress and putting on her shoes. She stood in front of her mirror admiring her reflection, something she rarely did. The fuller, pale pink skirt of the dress almost made Emma feel like a princess, and she could practically see Killian and her moving together across the dance floor.

It made her stomach flip.

Emma heard her foster parents’ car start and back out of the driveway outside her window. She hadn’t mentioned the dance to either of them, hoping to avoid the awkward pictures they seemed to like taking, judging by the numerous photos they had of their daughter scattered across the mantle.

Emma grabbed her purse and after making absolutely sure they were gone, went to meet Killian at the swings.

“Wow, you look—” he started when she came into view, his eyes wide and a smile on his face.

“I know,” Emma blushed, grabbing his hand. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

“You’re excited for this, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’ve never been to one of these things before. Don’t want to miss anything,” she said as they hurried down the street.

The dance was everything Emma could have wanted—she and Killian danced, they ate, they laughed; she never wanted the night to end. When the dance was officially over at half-past ten, Emma’s feet hurt, she was tired, breathless, and had never been happier.

“Thank you for this,” she said as he walked her home. Emma had told him she could walk on her own, but he had insisted.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Did you have a good time?” He looked down somewhat sheepishly.

“Of course I did,” Emma said, taking his hand again. “I couldn’t have asked for a better night.”

“Me either,” he said with a small grin of his own.

They had reached her door, but Emma wasn’t ready to say goodbye and it seemed Killian wasn’t either.

“Do you know what would make it just a bit better though?” he asked.

“What?”

“A kiss, maybe?”

“You want to kiss me?” Emma asked, her heart beating so fast she was sure Killian could hear it.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

Emma didn't know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

She’d had other kisses before, but none of them had ever made her feel like this. She was completely weightless and her knees went weak as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her and as they broke apart, her hand found his collar and she gripped it like her life depended on it. His hand caressed her face before catching a lock of hair between his thumb and forefinger.

“That was...” Killian breathed, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

“Something we’ll have to do again sometime,” Emma finished as she took a step back. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Monday? Yeah, th-that sounds great...Yeah, I’ll see you then.” Killian stumbled over

his words, his cheeks flushed and his smile bright.

Emma smiled and walked up the pathway to her front door, feeling like her feet were barely touching the ground.

She opened the front door as quietly as she could, taken by surprise when the living room light flicked on.

“How was the dance?” Mrs. Smith was sitting there on the sofa, hands folded in her lap, and contempt dripping from her words.

“It was fine,” Emma said, starting up the stairs and hoping to avoid whatever tirade was about to come.

“And that dress, is it new? The shoes? The makeup?” her foster mother continued to question.

“I paid for it all myself, with the money I got from Granny’s,” Emma explained, halting halfway up the stairs.

“How nice.” Mrs. Smith stood. “And while you were out, did you happen to tell anyone about our little arrangement?”

“What?”

“I got a call today from your social worker.” Mrs. Smith crossed her arms thoughtfully and tilted her head. “She was concerned that we were stealing money from you. Now, who would have told her something like that?”

“I don’t kn—”

“Your little boyfriend, that’s who,” Mrs. Smith snapped, following Emma up the stairs. “Did you tell him about our arrangement?”

“No, of course not,” Emma said, tears stinging her eyes.

“Bullshit. You’re not as dumb as you look. You think I didn’t know there was a dance tonight?”

“I-I—”

“I-I-I...Maybe you are stupid,” Mrs. Smith sneered. “Maybe that’s why no one wanted you.” She was towering over Emma, her eyes snapping down to Emma’s dress. “This piece of trash isn’t even worth the money you paid for it. You wasted a good hundred bucks buying all of this shit. Money I could have used.”

“It’s my money!”

“NO, IT’S NOT!” Mrs. Smith roared. “You live in my house, you eat my food, you wear the clothes that I bought for you. You owe me that money for everything I do for you!”

Emma could only stare up at her, unable to speak or move as Mrs. Smith shook with anger. Then, after a moment she said, “Get out.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I said, get out! Go down to the bank and withdraw every penny you spent on this night and pay it back to my family. Then leave.”

“But I don’t have enough to do that!”

“Well then, we’ll have to make another arrangement. How about no food for a week? Or you can sleep in the garage and freeze. I don’t care! Whatever it takes, you are paying me back!’ Mrs. Smith grabbed Emma’s arm and forced her down the stairs. She tried to struggle but ended up twisting her ankle on the bottom step.

Emma limped out of the house, her mind racing with a million thoughts. She knew there was no way she was going to continue living in that house; she’d rather live at her old foster home.

Tears started falling down her face as she wondered how she could have been so stupid, thinking she might have actually found a family.

Emma looked back and saw the tree that nearly touched her bedroom window and before Emma knew what she was doing, she was climbing the tree. Breaking into her room was easy enough—she never bothered locking her window and the screen popped out easily. Emma quickly and quietly gathered all of her precious possessions —an old tattered copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, a mood ring she’d won from a claw machine, the baby blanket she’d been found in—and shoved all of them in a duffel bag. She looked down at her dress before gently pulling it over her head and folding that into her bag as well.  Emma dressed in jeans and a sweater and, taking care not to make any noise, carefully climbed back out the window.

Storybrooke—Present Day

“How’s Liam, by the way?” Emma asked. “I feel really awful for the way I spoke to him.”

The question, as innocent as it seemed, hit Killian like a punch to the gut. Although he’d answered this question plenty of times before, it never made it any easier.

“Liam’s gone. There was an accident at the cannery about a year after you left.”

“Oh my God, Killian. I’m so sorry.” Emma reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s...well it’s not alright, but it’s—” Killian struggled to find a way to put his feelings into words.

“I understand,” Emma said. “Are you okay?”

“I suppose. I worked at the cannery after graduation to help pay for college. Same accident took this from me too.” Killian held up his prosthetic hand.

Without hesitation, Emma gently took his prosthetic hand in hers, studying it for a few minutes. Her eyes flickered back up to his and they reflected the sorrow that Killian still felt in his heart.

He pulled his hand back from her and cleared his throat.

“The settlement money helped put me through school and now I’m a teacher at our alma mater.” He tipped his prosthetic towards her and tried to grin.

“I feel awful—” Emma started.

“Well, don’t. None of this is your fault.”

“But I’ll never get to apologize to him.”

“It’s okay, really. He understood. He just...always wanted to help people, you know? He thought he was doing what was right.”

“He did. If it wasn’t for him, that family would have kept bleeding me dry.” She paused, and then with a small smile added, “Plus, if it wasn’t for Liam, you probably never would have asked me out.”

“Hey, I had something very romantic planned. The bugger just had to ruin it,” Killian laughed. And to his relief, so did Emma.

Storybrooke—10 Years Ago

Emma stood outside of Killian’s house, trying to figure out which window was his, having never been in his bedroom before. Her duffel bag was at her feet and her pockets were full of the money she had just emptied out of her account.

Once Emma figured out which window to aim for, she began tossing small rocks at it until Killian, bleary-eyed and hair ruffled from sleep,  opened the window.

“Swan, what’s going on?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Did you tell anyone?” Emma tried to keep herself from shouting.

“Tell anyone what? Emma, what’s wrong?”

“My foster mother got a call from my social worker. Someone told her about her taking my waitressing money.”

“I didn’t call her,” Killian said, hand coming up to run through his hair. “Liam—” he started hesitantly but stopped when a light flicked on behind him. Emma could barely hear Liam enter Killian’s room, but Killian didn’t tear his eyes away from her. “Why don’t you come inside?” he asked.

Emma waited impatiently for Killian to come and open the front door before storming inside and right up to Liam. “Did you call CPS?”

“Emma…” Liam started softly.

“Did you call CPS?” she demanded again.

“Yes, okay? The Smiths weren’t treating you right,” Liam said. “I was in high school with their daughter. She didn’t work a day in her life; they lied to you. Her mum and dad paid for everything. Those two are already getting money to foster you, they don’t need to be taking your money too.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest and stood straight, not backing down.

“You ruined everything!” Emma tried to blink away the tears that were clouding her vision.

“Swan...” Killian stepped towards her and tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she twisted out of his reach.

“And you!” Emma turned her anger towards him. “Why did you tell him in the first place?!”

“Because you needed help,” Killian said, voice shaking.

“I don’t need you or your brother to save me! I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life and I can keep doing it without either of you!” Emma turned on her heel and walked out of the Jones brothers’ cottage without looking back.

“Swan! Please wait,” Killian said, running after her. “Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know...somewhere. Anywhere is better than here,” Emma snapped, grabbing her bag off the ground.

“Please, just stay here with us. We can help you.” Killian grabbed hold of her arm and  Emma looked into his eyes, eyes that were almost completely colorless in the moonlight. Eyes that only a few hours ago she had never wanted to look away from.

“I don’t want your help,” Emma growled, wrenching her arm out of his grip. She hoisted her bag over her shoulder and turned around without looking back.

By the time the sun rose, Emma had walked through most of Storybrooke to get to the bus station, where she had spent the last few hours. She had a one-way ticket to Portland, Maine and from there she would find another place to run to since running was what she was good at. She wasn’t the girl who got to enjoy school dances or made Honor Roll. She wasn’t the girl that could have a boyfriend. She was a runaway—just a kid practically forgotten by the system, unloved and unlovable.

These were the thoughts running through Emma’s mind as she took her seat on the bus and leaned her head against the window.

“Ticket, please?” the bus driver asked as he walked the aisle. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice caught her off guard.

“Yeah, why?” Emma answered, handing him her ticket.

“You’re crying,” he said.

Emma reached up and felt her cheek, wet with fresh tears.

“Oh, it’s just allergies. I promise.” Emma forced a shaky laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. The bus driver appeared unconvinced but moved on to the next passenger anyway.

Emma slumped into her seat and leaned back, the tears free-flowing down her face no matter how much she willed them to stop. As the bus roared to life and pulled out of the bus station, Emma turned to get one last look at Storybrooke. The smaller the town became behind her, the more Emma realized how much she wanted Killian to be in the seat next to her, running off to wherever it was she was headed next.

Storybrooke—Present Day

“Can I ask you one more question?” Killian asked as their laughter faded.

“Shoot.”

“Are you staying the night here?” Killian blushed, realizing how forward he sounded.

Emma nodded. “I am, actually. I got a room at Granny’s.”

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

“No,” Emma smiled. “Not yet.”

“Good. Good,” Killian nodded. “Well, I’m actually very busy,” he said. Emma laughed and gave his shoulder a small shove. “But I think I can take you to dinner if you would like?” he added shyly.

“I think I would like that,” Emma smirked at him. “But I need to know for sure.”

“And how will you do that?” Killian asked, realizing that their faces were now mere inches apart.

“I have an idea,” Emma whispered before leaning in.

Their lips met and Killian’s mind went wonderfully and blissfully blank of all thoughts that didn’t involve the woman in his arms. All he could think, feel, smell was Emma—her hair, her skin, her lips.

He drank her in then, as he did that night all those years ago.

“Are you sure now?” Killian asked as they broke apart.

“I’m very sure,” Emma chuckled. “We talked about the past all night. I think tomorrow we can talk about the present, and maybe even the future.”

Killian smiled and leaned in once more, their kiss sealing a promise to let the past go and to look finally towards the future.

Together.

[harrish6]

Falling Into A Different Destiny; What If - New Soul - Part 1

I do not own the song or video, they belong to their respectful owners. I just think this fits with Glitchy, no matter where he lands. He really is a clean slate no matter how you look at it. A very adorable one~

Time for some Glitchy~! In Nerd and Jock, it will be different, just saying.

Oh, it would be so, so different with Glitchy instead of Erratum! Like, WAY different than 'Mr. Erratum'. Glitchy would never become the sewing teacher, or a teacher at all. But there would be some similarities. Can anyone say "Over-protective students"? More so than with Mr. Erratum, as Glitchy doesn't look like he can kill a man with a look and get away with it with even if there were witnesses. Sure, Glitchy could make someone die of cuteness with a look, but not fear.

It's not like anyone knows, much less Glitchy himself, that Glitchy has the power to destroy whole universes if he put his mind to it.

Glitchy is called "Error" at the start, but it will change to "Glitchy" later on as there is already a Error - not that Glitchy knows that. You'll understand once you start reading. But I wanted to put this out now so no one is confused.

There is going to be some legal stuff in here, but I in no way think it is or know if it is right. Most likely not, but I am doing it for the plot of the story. So, don't get angry for that please.

I am going to have way too much fun with this....Like, I think I need professional help, but I refuse to get it if it means doing this! I can't stop smiling and laughing, I'm going slap happy! #NO-REGRETS!

Twisted!Error - Glitchy walks out of the portal, and instead of ending up in Snowdin of a random AU, ends up in Nerd And Jock Multiverse.

Pairing: Undecided

-Start Chapter-

Error blinked, confusion turning into delight. Eyes sparkling, the glitch took in all the new sounds. All the new smells, the sights. The new everything.

The shinning things above him made Error's eyes sparkle in the same way. The big glowing, the biggest glowing thing, shinned gently down on him. It made him want to...want to do something. Take it in his arms, for some reason Error felt like that. Shaking his head, Error started his new exploration.

And with no mean Voices to scream at him! Just the thought of that alone made Error skip.

New colors of all kinds surrounded him, making him beam as he walked. With no destination in mind, the skeleton just kept walking. Other people were out, yet stayed away from the wondering skeleton. Error's mind too busy buzzing to go and talk to anyone of them. He was too busy trying to figure out what everything was.

Eventually, Error found a place that smelled nice. It was surrounded by weird cold and sturdy things, but had a big opening Error could walk in. People walked around, some holdings hands and others talking to one another. With wonder in his eyes, he watched them all. He watched two people sit on something, talking, before getting up and leaving.

Rushing to where they had sat before, Error poked it. It was...hard. Cold and not at all soft. Circling around it, Error gaped in awe and wonder, trying to figure out just what this thing was. Humming, Error decided to try what those others did. First, he lifted a leg on the thing, but frowned when he realized that he was doing it wrong.

It took a few tries, but eventually Error was sitting on the thing like the others were. It was hard and not comfy, but Error was proud. Blinking, Error found someone staring at him. It was another person, carrying some white things. White. Error frowned at the color. He didn't like white, it reminded him of the White Room. The person smiled at him and waved, making Error look confused.

Glancing to his hand, he looked back to the waving hand. It took a bit, but eventually, Error lifted his hand, and moved it side to side....backwards. The back of his hand facing the stranger with his palm facing him.

The person blinked, but still smiled as they walked up to him. Error tilted his head, wondering what they wanted....maybe they wanted to sit on the things too?

It was late at night by the time Gina Berry finished her shopping, having just gotten back in the city later that day. After finding out her neighbor was murdered by his third wife after she found out about the other four wives, Berry decided that the day was best spent outside. She just never thought she would be out this late.

Deciding to go through the park to get to her apartment quicker, she did a double take at finding a Monster. A glitching, skeleton Monster. No many Monsters lived near the area anymore. Not after that that racist group dusted a few Monster children and threw their dust in other Monster's faces. While the group is gone and it happened a few years ago, not many Monsters wanted to live, let alone be in the area.

'What...What is he doing?' Gina frowned in concern. The skeleton Monster was a few inches shorter than her, and looked to be young. How young, it was hard to tell. But knowing that a teen could be out alone at this time was worrying. And that's not counting that the skeleton was playing around with a bench like he had never seen one before.

Watching as the skeleton tried to figure out how to sit down cemented to Berry was something wrong. Either this skeleton was on something, or something was just plain wrong. Sure, it was adorable in a way. Like watching a child trying to figure out something, yet it was wrong. This skeleton looked old enough to know how to at least sit down if not know what a bench was.

Finally, the dark skeleton got it right. Then, he looked up, giving Gina a full view of his face.

'Innocent.' That was the first thought that came to mind. Wide bright pinpricks of multicolored eyes in red eye sockets set in a dark skull stared right back. They shinned like the stars, filled with wonder and awe as if seeing the world for the first time. What looked to be tears marks where on his face, adding in a tragic touch. It was like he cried for so long it stained his face.

Being polite, Gina waved and smiled.

The skeleton blinked, glancing at his own hand and her's in confusion. Then, he lifted up, backside facing her, and moved his whole arm in a slanted side to side motion. Looking proud while it was going on.

Enough was enough, time to get some answers before her worry gets anymore high. Hopefully it was just a lost teen or young adult that looks young, not something more darker.

So, Gina smiled and headed to the smaller glitching skeleton.

"Hello, dear." Gina smiled gently down at the sitting skeleton. "If you don't mind me asking, I wanted to know what you were doing out so late?"

'Late? Dear?' Error frowned in thought, not understanding. All he could figure out was that the person was asking what he was doing. She even said so! "i'M siTTIng ON thIS thING!" Error brightly told the person, pointing to the cold thing he was sitting on. "iS thAT whY yOU camE oVeER? yOU WanTEd TO SiT DOWN oN tHIS thING ToO?"

"'Thing'?....Do you mean the bench?" Gina asked softly, pointing to said bench. The skeleton blinked in confusion, before brightening up.

"bEnCH? thAT'S WhaT IT'S CalLED?" Error looked down at this so called 'bench' that he was sitting on. This person must know a lot! Maybe she even knows about all the colors surrounding him. "WhAT ColOR iS THiS 'bEncH'?"

"....Grey, as it is concrete." Gina slowly answered, looking the skeleton up and down. Was this skeleton colored-blind? "My name is Gina Berry, it's nice to meet you. What is your name?"

Error frowned, wanting to ask more questions on the colors. Besides, he didn't really have a name. Only what the Voices called him, and that changed on how they were feeling. "i WaS callEd 'miStaKE' By thEm." Error pouted, trying to think on all the things the Voices called him. He only thought himself as 'Error' because it was the one word they called him most. He didn't notice Gina's paling face. "ThEY moSTlY caLLEd ME ErRoR thOUGh!"

".....I see. We'll, why don't you tell me where your home is?" Gina could feel her core shake, not liking where this was going. "I'll walk you home....and have a few words with your parents." Really, she wanted to do more then have words with them. Who lets their kid, as this Monster in front of her had to be a teen at the most if not a child, out at this time of night and calls them a 'Error', which is just another word for 'Mistake', so much that he thinks that is his name. No, Gina retracts that, the one in front of her doesn't seem to know what a name is.

"....WhaTS a 'HOMe' aND 'paREntS'?" The Monster in front of her eventually asked. Confusion and befuddlement written all over his face.

Now, Gina used to be a sewing and Home Ec teacher before she retired. Key word; Teacher. Being a teacher taught her how to spot lies and false tales. The Monster in front of her? The dark, multicolored skeleton that was looking up at her with wide innocent eyes? Yeah, no. He wasn't telling a single lie. He honestly had no idea what were parents or a home was. Before she had been a teacher, Gina had to take several classes on abuse and how to spot them all. In fact, she had to take them every year until she retired, as times do change.

This whole picture that is forming in her mind and how the Monster is reacting to her questions is screaming 'ABUSE!' at her. Either that, or he has a extreme case of amnesia. And as the other has no head wounds from what she can see, and he doesn't smell off crossing off questionable substances, that means something darker is going on.

Trying to think, Gina fired off questions before she even knew what she was doing. "What about 'Them'? The ones who called you...'Error'? Where are they? Where were you before you came here?" Biting her lip to stop herself, she paid close attention and prayed that she was wrong.

"thE vOIcEs!" Error frowned, twitching and glitching. Glancing around as if to hear their screaming once more. "thEm aRE thE voiCEs. i WaS iN thE whITE rOOm WiTH tHEM scREamING aT mE....BuT i GoT ouT!" Error grinned at this, clapping his hands in excitement. "i nEvER lEfT thE whiTE rOOm bEfoRE. i WaNNa kNOW ALl thE colORs tHErE ARE!" Error cooed out, eyes shinning at the though of knowing all the colors. Maybe he might even get to have more colors for himself. He had seen other people with colors on, so many different ones. He wanted new colors.

'Ohh~! New colors, everyday! I wanna change colors everyday!' Error tugged at his hood, imaging the color on it changing to other ones.

It's times like these that Gina wishes she didn't enjoy taking walks. She could have took her car and got some groceries instead of walking even if it is only a short distance from her home. If it came down to it, she could have ran over these people and call it self defense. Playing up the old, weakening woman card if anything where to happen. She's sure that she could get away with it too, she took acting classes in school and still remembers them well.

Shaking off her personal desires - and might be reality if there are no options... Or if she ever found out who they were and happened to just run them over. Whatever happened first. - Gina knew what she had to do.

Taking in a deep breath, Gina smiled sweetly at the sitting Monster. "Well, how about you come with me for right now? You need to have a home, you can't stay here forever. We'll go to the police station and see if we can't find you one or get started on finding you one."

Error blinked, having no idea what Gina was talking about - said woman could see this, making her hurt inside - but just smiled and rolled with it. "CaN yOU anSwER mY QuEsTiONs tHEn?"

"I'll answer them on the way there." Gina promised with a sad smile. "Any question you have, just ask me. I'll try to answer as many as I can to the best of my abilities."

That was all Error needed.

Hopping off the bench, Error bright grinned at the taller person. "okAY!"

Gina smiled as she lead the skeleton to the station. Luckily, the station was only a few blocks away from the park.

At least she had some food in her bags, she had a feeling this was going to take a long time to get sorted out....

-Three Hours Later-

"So, lets put everything togethert?" A man in a police uniform - brown hair cut short with blue eyes - ask the other people around him. "John, you start. You talked to the woman?"

"Yeah, Gina Berry." John - another officer, blond hair with brown eyes - nodded. "She was brutally honest, if nothing else. I also think she is low-key planning to committing murder too, by the look in her eyes. But I have a feeling that it either won't happen or we won't be able to find out if it was her or not." John lightly joked before a frown overtook his face. "Ms. Berry stated that she had just come back from out from town and was just on her way back from getting a few groceries to tied her over until she could make a list of everything she needed. She happened to pass by the skeleton Monster. She stated that she was worried for someone who looked to be so young out and about at such a late time. After asking some questions - which are recorded - Ms. Berry felt it was time to take some steps and proceeded to the station after convincing the skeleton Monster to come with her." John sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Really, Drake, it wasn't convincing. Skeleton Monster didn't even know what she meant and just went with it all."

The first man that spoke, Drake, just glanced to the woman in nice suit. "Lucy, as apart of social services, you talked to Skeleton Monster? Did the doctor we call say anything?"

"Yes, and it was decided by him that he wanted to go by 'Glitchy'." Lucy - a woman with bright red hair and hazel eyes - gave a small smile, recalling how that happened. "After one of the other officers had asked "You're really glitchy, does that hurt you?" in worry, Glitchy had decided that he wanted to be called that from now on. We checked the glitching too, but a more through medical examination will be needed to see why exactly he is glitchy and if it is pixlexia. But I am almost certain it is, with his voice and appearance glitching like it, which means it shouldn't hurt unless the glitching got more out of control."

"Well, it's better than 'Error' or 'Mistake'..." Another officer, a lion Monster - called Leon - muttered at the end of the table.

"After talking to Glitchy, I have found some distributing evidence that points to all kinds of abuse if not outright torture." Lucy's face went grim, making the other officers in the room straighten. "From what I can gather, he has been trapped in what he calls 'White Room' for his whole life. Nothing but white surrounding him, never knowing what time it is or leaving said room. Not even to eat.... He doesn't know what food even is. Hell, he doesn't know what anything is." Lucy whispered the last part, eyes watering. No matter how many cases she does, it never gets better.

Clearing her throat, Lucy straightened and continued. "After asking some questions, it seems that he was screamed at by what he calls 'The Voices'. They mentally, emotionally, verbally and even physically abused him by convincing him to hurt himself."

"And he never saw 'The Voices'?" Drake asked with a face that might as well been made out of stone.

"No. Glitchy just told me that they screamed at him. He never saw them." Lucy confirmed. "Things that 'The Voices' told him are written in the file..... They're not pretty."

"Leon, any progress on finding any papers on Glitchy? Anything mentioning a missing skeleton Monster?"

Leon sadly shook his head. "No, nothing. No is reported missing, and his magic is very....weird." Leon frowned, thinking about it. "Our scientists can't make it out. But it doesn't seem like it's harming him, so...."

"Great, might as well put illegal experimentation in his files too while we're at it." John groaned, rubbing his head. "'The Voices' might have done something to him without his knowing too."

"And we couldn't find a birth certificate either..." Drake groaned out himself before gathering himself together, waving Lucy to go on. "What else did you find out, Lucy? What did the doctor say?"

"Well, I can say for certain that Glitchy has Leukophobia." Lucy sighed out, wanting to just cry. The only reason she had this job was because she loved helping children. But it never got easier when faced with the harsh reality of what happens to all kinds of children everyday. "But, it is manageable. I had given him a white bear, he refused to touch it or even look at it besides from some fearful glances. Then, I had tied a pink bow around it's neck. Glitchy then took the bear and was able to face it without much fear. As long as it has even a little bit of color on it, Glitchy is fine with white because he unconsciously focuses on the color, not the shade of white. He might also have monophobia, as he did not want to be left alone at all, but it is only a assumption right now."

"Only those phobias?" Leon couldn't help but ask. He thought with everything that had happened, Glitchy would be worse off. But then again, if Glitchy didn't know what anything is, then how can he fear it?

Lucy nodded. "The Doctor, Dr. Bright, came in and had done a few tests with Glitchy. More extensive tests are needed, but Dr. Bright strongly thinks that Glitchy has Asperger's Syndrome or at the very least, somewhere on the autistic spectrum. With the color obsession Glitchy has, as well as everything else, I strongly think that is Asperger syndrome."

"But no injuries?" Drake asked after a moment of taking in all the information. "No bleeding or hidden wounds?"

"Some old scars that may or may not heal with time. There are some scars on his upper arms that look like biting marks. Glitchy admitted to chewing on his arms until they start to 'gush out weird stuff' because 'The Voices told me I might escape if I chewed my arm off.'"

"Son of a bitch..." John muttered out. Leon hummed in agreement, brows frowned in thought.

"But this still doesn't answer why we can't find him in the system... there has to be at least on doctor visit for the birth..." Drake mused, eyes darkened in thought. Leon shifted, before speaking up, slowly stating his words.

"What....What if we are looking at this at the wrong angle." Leon's eyes were slowly getting wide in horrified realization. "We've been thinking that some assholes have gave birth or take some kid as a child. Anyone of those options would leave some type of paper trail. But, what if it's the first one, and they didn't go to a hospital to give birth." Leon looked to his co-workers with horror painted on his face. "Maybe they even hid the pregnancy. No one would know about the kid, no one would think to ask about the kid if something were to happen. Just think, they have the perfect victim then. No kid, no eyes on said kid if they look off or say something off. Hell, this might even be a hate crime too with the kid having Asperger's Syndrome and Pixlexia."

"Oh God." Lucy breathed out, hands coming to cover her mouth. "No one would think to report them. With everyone thinking they don't have a child, why would anyone think to call them up on child abuse if they acted normal with other children and didn't have one themselves?"

"And that's not counting what they did to him without his knowledge. We might be looking at some kind of criminal underground or a underground lab of some kind if there is illegal experimentation." John pointed out, face cold and eyes hard. "To get DNA, we'd need to get to the marrow. And the only way to do that is by breaking one of his bones. It's not worth the chance, not when it is most likely that his blood has been tampered with like his magic is."

"This is all assumptions and speculations." Drake reminded them, but he was starting to believe it himself with everything in front of him. "For now, we have to find Glitchy a place to stay."

"Ms. Berry offered up her home, even to adopt him." John's face softened a little while he said this. "I know that Glitchy should immediately go to a foster home or even the hospital, but I think we should make a exception here.... We'll still do everything else right of course, checking the house and making sure she gets the paperwork done...but I really don't think we should separate them."

"I agree with John. It might set Glitchy off." Lucy agreed with a nod. "A foster home, the system itself, would not be good for Glitchy's mental health. Better to have him stay with someone who is planning to adopt him then off to a home where he will be shuffled around."

Just because she worked in social services, did not mean she agreed with the system.

"It will also help us keep a eye on him." Leon added in helpfully. "In the system, he would be shuffled around and moved around constantly. If something the case were to happen and we need to talk or get to Glitchy, we know where he is."

Drake took in a deep breath, looking at everyone, before letting the breath out slowly.

-One Hour Later-

"Glitchy Err Berry." Gina softly whispered, tracing the name written on the paper. the official document stated and shows that she was the guardian to the skeleton Monster she had found at the park. Sure, there were a ton of legal to get through still as well as medical visits needed to get to, but Glitchy was as good as her's.

While she is much too old to be a Mother, she always had wanted to be a Grandmother.

"GrAnNy?" Gina brightened, turning her head with a grin. Glitchy stood there, a brightly colored blanket wrapped around him like a cape. One of the Officers had given it to him while Gina had explained everything to Glitchy, and told him to call her 'Granny' or 'Granny G'. "aRE wE staYinG hERE?"

"No, Glitchy, this is the police station. I have a different home. It's smaller, but it works." Gina lightly explained, a thoughtful smile on her face. "Although...I guess I should look into getting a bigger place now..."

The only reason she had a apartment and not a house was because she didn't need much room. But with a teen - the doctors can't guess his age, so they guess he is a teen, about fourteen or fifteen years of age. Gina decided to go with 14, to make things easier. - living with her, she knew she was going to need more room. Her only free room was a work space for her sewing and storage for everything else. And a yard filled with colorful flowers would be best, giving Glitchy some much needed air with some color to it.

Glancing to Glitchy, who was rubbing the soft blanket and cooing at the colors, Gina felt so right in making her choice to take in the skeleton Monster. Most would have just got him to the police station and let that be that. Yet, walking to the station, looking at his wonder filled eyes as he took in the world for the first time like a newborn baby... Gina couldn't leave him. Maybe it was selfish on her part, but she found she had fallen in love with the young skeleton; Seeing him as the son that she never had before as she lightly answered his questions like one would do to a child. While she is too old to be a Mother, a Grandmother can work just as well.

Glitchy needed love, attention, protection and so much more. He needed to see how life worked and understand so much. Heck, he needed to be guided through how to eat and how to do the most basic of things. Gina looked forward to it though. loving, guiding a child to a better future no matter what age they are.... Isn't that what a Mother does? A good one at least? There might be harsh roads and bumpy rides, but at the end, everything will be fine. If it isn't fine, then it's not the end yet.

'Glitchy Err Berry.' Gina hummed, thinking of the name Glitchy picked out for himself, 'Err' because it sounded like 'Error' without being 'Error', 'Glitchy' because he liked the sound of it, and 'Berry' because '"It's the same as your's!"'. Glitchy was a new soul, much like a newborn baby in so many ways.

It was Gina's job, duty, honor, and downright pleasure to take care and love Glitchy in place of those horrible 'Voices'. She only hopped that she would do a good job and not fail him.

"GraNNy! GrAnNy! WhaT'S thAT ColOR?"

"That's pink, Glitchy. A soft carnation pink." Gina lightly smiled, feeling warm. At the very least, her fashion design degree would be useful now. Studying all those colors, the woman knew it would come in handy one day. Just never thought it would for her skeleton Monster grandson that she adopted, who used to be a abuse victim.

But, that's destiny for you.

-End Chapter-

Here it is! Speculation is running wild about Glitchy. While no one knows it, Glitchy is a God of Destruction and a Destroyer. With magic being different in Nerd and Jock - not as strong - than Glitchy's Multiverse, Glitchy's magic would look very off and maybe even tampered with in certain situations. It also doesn't help that in this Multiverse, they can't CHECK someone's SOUL. Only a little magic is in this multiverse, enough for some moves but not enough to pull out Gaster Blasters or the more powerful magical attacks. Really, pulling out a gun would be easier and stronger in most cases here. So, yeah, speculation ran and is going to run wild.

I have no idea how social services are ran, nor how everything else would go. Look it up if you need information, do not take my story with seriousness in that regard.

It was only after making Glitchy did I realize that he or seemed like he had Asperger's Syndrome after someone mentioned it. I looked it up, and it really does fit in with Glitchy. If he was in a place like Nerd And Jock, he would be diagnosed with it and after looking it up, I'm pretty sure he has it. Like, when I read that comment, I felt like a parent myself as I went to look up everything about it and found out my kid most likely has it.

But that's fine. Glitchy is perfect the way he is, Syndrome or not. If he has it, then he has it. He's still the same as always, he just has a name and title to go with it.

In any case, because of this, Glitchy would be put in a certain type of class. Special Education, or Special Ed. It's fine that he is in there, as he would honestly need to be in there. There is no way that Glitchy could or would be in normal classes. Even without Asperger's Syndrome, Glitchy has other issues that come from the 'White Room' and Voices, not knowing a whole lot and most likely having some types of learning disabilities and such that haven't been diagnosed yet. If not a whole mess of other issues/reasons now that I am thinking about... Like, a type of pixlexia may be considered a disorder or disability. Don't know, but I could see that now that I'm thinking about it....I'm going to use it.

Really, all my versions of Error have issues. Some more serious than others and all at varying levels with each one. Like, Erratum himself alone would make the best councilor or  psychiatrist in the world weep and have no idea how to help him.

So, for the class, as there is no Special Ed class from what I can see, I turned what used to be his bitties - my OCs - in/from 'Twisted', into students for the Special Ed class as we never seen one in Nerd And Jock. In fact, I'm pretty sure I am the first one to do this. Realistically, there would be a class like this, and Glitchy would be in it no matter how you look at it - unless he was home-schooled. So, I made one for the purpose of the story.

Please know that I am in no way making fun of these disorders or disabilities. I, myself, have dyslexia - which is counted and is a learning disability - and I have tried to research as much as I can about every single one that I am going to use. I might get things wrong or exaggerate on accident, for that, I am sorry.

So, here are Glitchy's classmates!

Azure W.(Waters) Starline; Has Narcolepsy - extreme drowsiness and falling asleep at random times with no warning, having no choice in the matter when they fall asleep during those times-.

Rose C.(Crescent) Thorns; Is on the autism spectrum and has social-anxiety.

Ruby N.(Novella) Thorns; Has learning disorders;- Dyscalculia - affects a persons ability to understand numbers and learn math facts -, Dysgraphia - a disability that affects how a person writes and their fine motor skills - and Dyslexia - Affects reading and language-based processing skills. -. He also has some behavioral problems/issues. Meaning, he has gotten violent and been in fights as well.

Azure and Ruby both were held back a grade, making them in Glitchy's grade even though they are older.

Rose and Ruby are brothers, with them being a year apart in age, but not related to the Fell brothers in any way.

The three of them have fonts in their names. With Azure's being his last name, while Ruby and Rose have it as their middle names.

And of course, Toriel is the teacher for this class. No one could be better in my mind. I think in the comics, she was the General Teacher or something like that, maybe for the younger years. But, in this, I made her the Special Ed Teacher.

Bullying will happen in this story as well. Teens are known to bully those that are different and Glitchy is beyond different. I wouldn't worry too much though, Glitchy will have his protection squad - almost the whole school, let's be honest here. He's like the baby brother and ultimate Waifu - to be there for him. But these things do happen, so it's going to be in the story. Sometimes, people are assholes just be mean, other times they don't know any different or there is something wrong; In their life or was taught wrong. All these scenarios will happen in the story.

I can't wait to do the next chapter for this~!

Just because I made one version of Error fall into a certain world, does not mean I won't do it for other versions. Like this for example; Just because Flaw and Shears fell and landed in NaJ, doesn't mean I won't make Glitchy do the same.

It's the same for the others. Although, there is no way Delusion or Static would become teachers or students. I would have to go a very different way about it.

....PTA Static - where he accidentally or on purpose, it's hard to tell with him, becomes a parent and has to deal with the school because his kid goes there. Like, everything from volunteering for things, going to meetings and conferences, dealing with teachers and even to dealing with all those PTA meetings. - anyone?

Delusion is a bit more difficult to place. I can think up a scenario for Static to get everything is needed to be a parent, even without use of the Codes to give him a background, and how to get said kid. All of it done in a mostly lazy way too. But Delusion is harder to place in this world, for the fact that he would be rushed to the hospital first chance. It's hard to think up a way for him to meet and interact with the cast of NaJ.....

I think I could also make a PTA Delusion now that I am thinking about it. He would go about it a different way then Static too, making it similar but different. How Static goes about things is different how Delusion would. Delusion would also get one hell of a overprotective kid too.

So, yeah, anyone want some PTA!Static and PTA!Delusion?

[theladyofdeath]

Kings & Queens {Ch 4}

Summary: Six students, from six different cliques, are trapped in the same room  for Saturday detention. They cannot stand one another, but find that they are not all that different. Inspired by The Breakfast Club (1985), characters from Sarah J Maas’ Throne of Glass series.

Author’s Note: Decided to post early, since I finished it! It’s official. I like writing from Rowan’s POV the best….I hope you all like where this is going. Let me know what you think!

Two years ago, the summer before Sophomore year…

“Hello.”  I had been staring at her from my table for the last hour, and I finally managed to gain enough control of my thoughts to approach her.

She looked up at me, her eyes gleaming with beauty and mischief. “Hi.”

“I’m Rowan,” I stuck out my hand, and she narrowed her eyes at it before she grasped it, as if she were deciding if I was worthy.

Apparently, I was.

“Aelin,” she smiled, and her smile made me breathless. “Junior?”

“Sophomore,” I pointed to my badge the orientation leader had gifted me with. “Unfortunately.”

I had gotten held back a year, but I decided to leave that part out.

“Unfortunately?” she smirked, and I felt something in my stomach that I hadn’t for a long time. “But, I’m going to be a sophomore, too. Most people would consider you lucky, Rowan….”

I cleared my throat. “Whitethorn.”

“Whitethorn,” she finished. “Aelin Galathynius. I think you and I will get along nicely.”

And we did.

Until we didn’t.

Rowan

9:05 a.m.

I hadn’t moved since I’d gotten there. It was all a misunderstanding, anyway, why I was sent to that hellhole in the first place. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, she showed up.

I wasn’t stupid, and I wasn’t blind. I saw the way her turquoise eyes widened when she noticed me coming down the hallway every now and again at school, how she turned around and walked the other direction as if running into me was the last thing she wanted.

As if she couldn’t stand the thought of being near me.

Don’t worry, I wanted to call out to her, every damn day. I stopped trying to reach out to you a long time ago.

Over the course of my lifetime, I had become very good at hiding my emotions. By the time I had reached my senior year, I had gotten so good at hiding them, I barely felt anything anymore.

I caught her glancing at me from time to time, which pissed me off, because that meant I was glancing at her, too. I couldn’t help myself. She was just as beautiful then as she was years before, when we spent the summer together by the lake, taking long drives to nowhere in particular, taking walks through the woods, hand in hand. Years before, when we spent the summer together laughing until we cried at three a.m. alone, in my bed, when my parents were away on business.

Two years later, she was a stranger. I looked at her, and I saw the girl I knew, but she was wearing someone else’s skin. I knew she was in there, but she wouldn’t admit it to herself, she was too drunk on popularity, too drunk on being adored by the entire population of Havilliard High.

Everyone else had dispersed from their seats, while I had remained. Aelin had gone to the second floor, where she’d been leaning over the balcony for the last half hour or so. The girl who hides behind her hair had gone, too, and for some reason Ashryver had followed her, probably to harass her some more.

Turning in my chair, I froze. The nerd was still there, to the table to my right, reading his textbook with heavy concentration.

As if he felt me watching him, his breathing became heavier.

He probably listened to what everyone said about me in the hallways.

Bully. Asshole. Criminal.

“Dorian, right?” I asked, and he nodded, his dark brown bangs falling in front of his eyes. “Sophomore?”

He blinked. “Senior, actually. We, uh, we have British lit together.”

I instantly felt a pang of guilt for not noticing him in class, but that was not surprising for big, bad Rowan Whitethorn. So, I gave him a short nod and turned back to my own fiddling thumbs.

“What’s your tattoo of?”

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced back his direction. “What?”

His hands began shaking, but his voice remained even. “Your tattoo. I’ve always been fascinated with them. I was just curious if, well, if it had any sort of significance or if it’s just a piece of art.”

I looked up, quickly, too see if Aelin was watching the interaction, but she was no longer there. Turning back to Dorian, I shrugged. “Can’t art be significant?”

His sapphire eyes widened. “Oh, of course. I didn’t mean to disrespect-“

“Don’t worry, it was a good question,” I interrupted him, then shot to my feet as his eyes grew even wider.

Ignoring the fact that I didn’t actually give him an answer, didn’t want to, I hastily strode to the bathroom.

It was empty, thankfully, and I was quick to lock the door behind me. I looked in the mirror, and saw the same stranger I usually found staring back at me. He was wearing a baggy, gray sweatshirt and tight, black jeans tucked into thick doc martens.

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have been seen wearing anything but gym shorts or sweat pants and my old lacrosse hoodie. Two years ago, I would have still had hair down to my shoulders. Not anymore.

My cropped, silver locks barely reached my green eyes. She loved your eyes.

Shaking off the thought, I yanked down my hood and turned on the faucet. Not bothering to roll up my sleeves, I leaned my face down and splashed frigid water onto my skin.

I think you and I will get along nicely.

The first conversation we ever had. The first time since Lyria died that I actually enjoyed talking to another human being, the first time since Lyria that I actually wanted more. The moment that I saw Aelin Galathynius, and I knew I didn’t want to live this life without her in it. The moment I knew she was something special. The moment I knew she was different. 

Same time tomorrow? There’s a place I want to show you.

The end of the first day we spent together, lounging by the lake, while I listened to her sing along to every song that came on the radio, obnoxiously loud. The night before she took me into the woods, to her favorite spot by the stream, where we took off our shoes, and rolled up our pants and walked together through the shin-deep water. The night I realized I could live purely off the sound of her laughter.

Lyria? She sounds beautiful. I lost someone, too. Sam. And I loved him.

Three a.m. and one too many sips of wine from a single red solo cup. We talked about life, and loss, and love. I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to stay there, lying on top of the sheets, her head lying innocently on my chest. I can still hear the slight slur in her voice, can still taste the strawberry wine. I wanted to kiss her. I should have kissed her.

You love me? How could you love someone like me?

The night I spilled my heart out to her. The night she pressed her lips against mine, and I was completely undone, my insides unraveled and bare on the carpet of her bedroom. The night before classes began. The night before everything changed.

How could you love someone like me?

Because you are kind, I said back to her, cradling her face in my hands, brushing away the tears that fell from her insecurities. Because you make me feel like I am not alone. Because you are beautiful, and only good. You give me peace in this cruel, merciless world.

I let the water fall into my sweatshirt, allowed the fabric to soak it up before I removed the rest with my sleeve. My eyes drifted to my reflection, where my tattoo peeked out of my collar. The tattoo of Lyria, of our short love that I would never forget. The tattoo of my parents, for they were taken from the world too soon.

I should have added Aelin to the list.

I had lost her, too, after all.

Aedion was sitting in my chair when I returned, and I halted as I noticed him fiddling with the strap of my backpack. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Dorian’s face paled as his eyes drifted between the two of us. 

“I have been watching you,” he replied, a hideous, amused grin plastered to his pretty-boy face. “I have been watching you, watching her.”

“That’s creepy,” the dark-haired girl mumbled from behind me. I hadn’t even realized she was there.

“Always with the compliments, Lysandra,” Aedion drawled. 

Lysandra.

She rolled her eyes and took her seat, the scent of tobacco filling the air around her.

“Move,” I demanded, taking a step forward.

“Let’s just-” Dorian began, but Aedion cut him off.

“Something happened between you and Aelin,” he whispered, his eyes lit with curiosity. “I want to know what it is.”

“Aren’t you two close?” I shot back. “The jock and the prom queen? What makes you think she ever wanted anything to do with me?”

He assessed me, making me feel vulnerable. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk about her.

“I-”

My temper had risen, and I was done listening. My hand found the collar of his shirt, and I yanked him forward, onto the ground. As I stood above him, he laughed.

The criminal versus the star quarterback. People would have paid good money to see that.

But, nothing happened.

Nothing happened, because Aelin rushed in, and took Aedion’s hand, and helped him off the ground. Nothing happened, because Aelin looked at me, truly looked at me, for the first time in years. She held my eyes, and for a second there was nothing but longing, and then, there was nothing but hate. 

I didn’t move, I didn’t breathe, until they walked away, until they disappeared between the pillars of books.

  @bigbangt1963  @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @sarah-akhavan @gcarroll@kortanna@nightquart @notjustanyoldfangirl @superhuman-imagines@iwouldtrusthagridwithmylife @callmeladytypewriter @saybell1994@2-bookmaster-2

[notarelationship]

Clinging to This Hating Game 4/?

(Yes I got the title wrong on the last chapter, that’s what happens when you try to post form work)

For the @prompt-a-klainefic blog’s 2017 Reverse Bang

Link to the art by @datshitrandom

the prompt:

Kurt and Blaine couldn’t stand each other in high school, maybe one was a jock/cheerleader and the other a nerd/glee clubber. Or they were bitter rivals for competition solos if they were both in glee club. Now they both live in NY and their friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they went to the same high school.

High School AU, Cheerio!Kurt, Jock!Blaine Rating: Explicit Warnings:  some bullying and homophobic language, teenage sex Word Count: ~3800 (this chapter)

Thanks as always to my superbeta @mshoneysucklepink.

Everything wonky is my fault.

AO3 link Chapter 4

On tumblr: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

Just a quick disclaimer: It just so happens that the only production of Bye Bye Birdie I have ever seen was a middle school production; I have never seen any film version or a staged version done by adults. I did review some high school productions on youtube while I was writing this chapter.

I only mention it because the school version and the movie version have some different staging, and I definitely had the school version in my head. It's not a huge part of the action, but it is in there so I thought I should clear that up.

--

Chapter 4

Kurt did his best to avoid talking to Blaine after their confrontation in the locker room.

Football season was over two weeks later anyway, so there were fewer run-ins in said locker room to try and avoid.

Of course dodging him altogether was impossible, with rehearsals for sectionals and the musical starting up in earnest. But those were both group events, and Kurt could be a professional. In fact it would be excellent practice for when he was a working actor. After all, there was no guarantee you would always get along with everyone in the cast of a show. Kurt convinced himself that he was even looking forward to the challenge.

But he couldn't let it go altogether, so he wrote out a card for Beckham.

“I hope this isn’t too weird,” he said to Tina, approaching her in the cafeteria one afternoon. “I know we were never really friends, but if he wants to talk, or anything, I’m available.”

Tina took the card, but looked at Kurt warily. Kurt smiled a thank you and went off to join the other Cheerios at their regular table.

Kurt was more shocked than he thought he’d be, and definitely pleased, when he got a text from Beckham two days later asking Kurt to meet him at the local coffee shop. Claiming he had to be home early for a family dinner that day, Kurt ditched the girls after rehearsal and went to the Lima Bean to meet Beckham.

When he arrived, Beckham was sitting at a corner table far from the door. Kurt was suddenly less confident about this. DId he really have anything helpful to say? Would Beckham even care? Kurt steeled himself and joined Beckham at his table. They exchanged somewhat awkward hellos, and Kurt went to the counter to get coffee for both of them.

Once they were settled with coffee and a cheesecake brownie between them, Kurt broke the delicate silence.

“I’m really sorry, Beck, about what happened to you. It shouldn’t happen to anyone. Not like that.”

Beckham’s cheek twitched. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything after that, so Kurt continued. “How are you doing?” It was the most open ended question he could think of. He didn’t want to push too hard.

“I’m good.” Beckham fiddled with his cup. “I really just wanted to tell you that I appreciated your note, and that I’m fine. Um, my parents are being very cool, so that makes it easier, I guess.”

“That’s great. I know the fact that my dad was so amazing when I came out made a huge difference for me. It really helps having the support at home, because you can’t count on it anywhere else.”

Beckham laughed, a little painfully, Kurt thought.

They chatted for a while, discussing college applications, hopes for landing somewhere more accepting, and how Beckham felt about finishing school at home. They’d been talking almost an hour, and they both needed to get home for dinner, when Beckham cleared his throat uncomfortably. Kurt sat back in his seat.

“Kurt, can I, um, tell you one last thing?” Beckham scratched his head. “I just - I don’t want you to blame Blaine for what happened to me. I mean, how it happened. He told me you kind of, well - yelled at him.”

Kurt froze, but tried to keep his face neutral. “He told you that?”

Beckham shrugged. “We are friends, me and him. I just feel like you should know, it wasn’t his fault. He told me he didn’t think it was a good idea, that he’d had some bad experiences and he wasn’t looking to find a boyfriend, even after I told him I was interested.”

Kurt wasn’t sure how much of this he wanted to know, but he sat quietly while Beckham went on.

“At the party I just had too much to drink, and I just wanted to kiss him, you know?” Kurt bit his tongue, hard. “If he hadn’t been drinking too I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have let me.”

Beckham sat expectantly, but Kurt didn’t say anything for a minute. He was trying very hard not to get caught up in wondering what the ‘bad experiences’ Blaine had been referring to might be. Had he been a bad experience?

Kurt tried to avoid thinking of that night pretty much all the time (because who was he kidding, he was a still-horny teenager and wanted to think about it pretty much all the time). Had it been bad? Kurt knew it had been a mistake, for himself, to lose his virginity (whatever that even meant) to a total stranger, but he hadn't thought, at the time, there had been anything inherently bad about it.

Beckham broke the silence as it dragged. “It could have been a lot worse. I saw what you went through freshman year - I still see it sometimes, you know.”

Kurt startled a little. He always assumed no one saw anything. But he supposed he could be honest enough to acknowledge that if another gay kid saw what Kurt had gone through he wouldn't feel terribly safe coming out.

After a little more small talk they finally went their separate ways, and Beckham even asked Kurt if he could call him again if he needed to talk. Kurt of course said yes.

Kurt couldn’t help but wonder, though about what Beckham had said - he didn't want to be one of anyone's bad experiences. And how many was ‘some?’ Blaine seemed to be experienced - at least compared to Kurt's inexperience. Blaine even went to an all boys school - which to Kurt seemed like both a teenage fantasy and nightmare all at once - but he couldn't imagine how there would not be opportunity there that simply didn't exist in his small minded public high school.

-

Before the glee club could get started on rehearsing songs for the musical, they had to finalize their songs for sectionals. Kurt felt it went about as smoothly as usual.

“Mr. Schue I don’t understand why you think I can’t handle a lead solo at sectionals as well as my lead role in the musical,” Rachel trilled. “Any professional singer-slash-actor can certainly handle more than one performance at a time, and I just -”

“Enough Rachel,” Mr. Schuester interrupted. “You’re not getting a solo at sectionals. Mercedes is more than capable of anchoring this performance.” Kurt could tell Rachel wanted to go on by the strained wriggle in her shoulders, but she kept quiet when Mr. Schuester held a hand up to stop her from talking. “Mercedes, have you thought about what you want to sing? A couple of options, maybe?”

“Well Mr. Schue, I would love to sing “Beautiful.” I know we did it before for an assembly, but I’d love to really let loose for a competition.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Mr. Schuester agreed. “Anyone else have any ideas?”

Everyone shouted stuff at the same time, but eventually they all agreed that it was a good idea to use songs they had in their pocket from past rehearsals. They would open with “Bad Romance,” with Kurt and all the girls but Mercedes on vocals and using the costumes they already had. A costume change would give Mercedes time to come out solo for the start of her song, and the whole glee club could join her for the finish.

For the remaining boys they decided to go with “Whatever Happened to Saturday Night” from Rocky Horror as a final group number. They would need to work out choreography for that one, but it was a lot less pressure than coming up with three brand new performance arrangements from scratch.

“Mr. Schue, if we’re going to use the old Lady Gaga costumes we should probably take a look at what kind of shape they’re in,” Quinn suggested, once everyone was in agreement.

“Great idea. I think they’re still in the storage room behind my office. Kurt? Do you think you can help get them into shape?”

“What? Oh, sure Mr. Schue. Do you think they’ll let me use the sewing machines in the Home Ec room?”

“You sew?” It was Blaine. He’d twisted around to look at Kurt, his eyebrows drawn together in a question.

“You don’t?” Kurt shot back, and Santana cackled next to him. Blaine’s mouth fell open for a second, then he rolled his eyes and turned his back to Kurt.

Mr. Schuester looked confused for a second, then had Blaine, Artie, Puck, Finn and Mike join him in the auditorium to start working on some choreography. Kurt and the girls pulled the costumes out and got to work on them.

-

They breezed through sectionals with a first place win two weeks later, and Kurt had to grudgingly admit to himself that adding Blaine had helped Mike anchor the other boys in the group, and they had performed better at sectionals than they had at any other competition Kurt had been in.

That left just the musical to work on before the end of the semester.

They had broken off into groups after school to work out blocking and choreography, even while they were rehearsing for sectionals, but now they were beginning to layer everyone's vocal performance over that. Kurt only had one song with complicated choreography, so he worked on learning his lines and helping with costuming.

Kurt was in the choir room with Brittany inventorying the men’s pants they had and that they thought they could use convincingly (wool tweed trousers - yes; striped polyester clown pants - no), when Santana and Blaine came through the door, pushing each other playfully and laughing. They’d been spending a lot of time rehearsing together, and Kurt could see Santana was growing fond of him, in her own inappropriate way.

“Can we help you?” Kurt held back an icy glare. He loved Santana but she could be unpredictable.

“Cool your jets, Lady Hummel,” Santana said. “Schue sent us down to see if you'd found any costumes that might fit us yet.” She tugged Brittany up with one hand and pulled her towards the empty office. “So bang on the wall when you’ve got something,” she said, as the door clicked shut behind her.

Blaine looked up from where he was poking at a pile of shirts Kurt had laid out over the piano.

“Mr. Schue said we might need to bring stuff from home if there wasn’t anything that would work.” Blaine paused, looking at the various piles of clothes around the room. “I didn't realize you were into this stuff Kurt. I’ve rarely seen you out of your uniform.” Then Blaine turned, and caught his eye, and winked.

Kurt’s eyes went wide and he had to forcibly keep his jaw from dropping. He looked down at his uniform. Sue required them to wear it any time the Cheerios were in season, and even though he did not participate on the basketball cheer squad, he was a team leader so he was required to wear his uniform anyway.

“I am required to wear my uniform, but I can assure you I have a closet full of highly fashionable habiliments at home.”

Blaine turned to face Kurt, leaning his ass that Kurt had definitely not been staring at against the piano.

“You know Kurt, don’t you think it’s about time we bury whatever hatchet there is -”

Blaine’s mouth snapped shut when Santana and Brittany tumbled back out through the door to Mr. Schuester’s office, giggling.

“I hope we didn’t interrupt you explaining the birds and bees to young Master Hobbit here, Hummel-fairy.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. They were friends but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself, and he knew it. The only way to manage her was to give it back, just as crudely.

“Maybe the two of you could just give us a demonstration,” Kurt proposed, his hands snapping to his hips. Kurt watched Blaine’s expression move from embarrassed to annoyed to horrified.

Santana smirked, looking between the two of them as if she’d just cornered dinner.

“I’d be happy to, but I don’t think we’ve got the right parts.” She took a few steps closer to Blaine, then grabbed his ass. “But if you want I can show you where everything’s supposed to go.”

“I, no, no thanks. I don’t need anyone to demonstrate anything, thanks Santana,” Blaine protested, squirming away from her. He shook his head, as if removing the last 10 minutes from his brain. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said, scuttling out of the choir room.

Santana snapped her fingers, squinting at Kurt. “I like him.”

Kurt exhaled loudly and went back to sorting the costumes. “I think you just scarred him for life.”

“You did have your claws out Santana. You might have drawn blood,” Brittany said.

“Nah,” Santana said, smiling at Brittany before looking out the door Blaine had escaped through. “We’re actually getting along great. He works hard, he’s an actually nice guy, as nauseated as it makes me to say it.”

She wandered off to look at her reflection in the office window, fixing her ponytail and adjusting her bra straps as she went on.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you two got off on the wrong foot so fast. In another universe you’d be sharing awkward gay firsts in the back seat of that ugly hybrid he drives.”

Kurt’s spine locked and he shot a glance at Brittany - who was looking at her phone and not paying any attention to him or to Santana. “Why on earth would you say something like that?”

Santana eyed him suspiciously through the reflection.

“What aren’t you telling me Hummel?” She turned around. “Please don’t tell me all this hate you’ve got going on for the short-stack is just masking a secret passion you’re both too frightened to admit to, because that would be entirely too perfect. And utterly cliched.” Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

If Kurt was capable of anything, it was hiding how he really felt about anything, and anyone. Even if they were stupidly attractive. And he didn’t even like Blaine. He set his jaw and stared right back. “He stole my lead solo and my lead role,” he bit out. And everyone who hated me loves him.“The hate is real enough Santana.”

-

By the time the date of the final dress rehearsal arrived, everyone was exhausted and ready to perform. They had cobbled together costumes that worked, Rachel had enough spotlight on her to be happy, and no one had tripped or fallen over anyone else in several days.

The year before, Mr. Schuester had set up a video camera to record the final dress, so that they all could watch together and make further tweaks before the curtain went up two nights later, and he did the same this year. As disappointed as he was to not have a bigger role, he was proud of what he’d managed to do with what he had, and he felt he’d honed his comedy chops in the role well enough. After all, it could never hurt to have another weapon in your acting arsenal.

They all gathered in the choir room, where a big screen had been set up for them to watch the video. Kurt was surprised when Blaine took a seat behind him, instead of the front row with Rachel where he usually sat, but he shrugged it off. When Quinn and the girls came in Quinn took her spot to one side of Kurt, but Santana and Brittany climbed one extra row and sat with Blaine. Quinn looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

“What? I thought I’d mix it up a little,” Santana hedged.

Blaine leaned over closer to Quinn, and his hand gripped the back of Kurt’s chair. “We’ve got a lot of scenes together so we wanted to be able to comment if necessary.”

“We have a lot of scenes too,” Quinn said to Blaine. She hadn’t cared whether or not she had a song for the musical, so had happily taken the role of Albert’s mother.

“Do you want to sit over here?” Blaine asked, patting the chair on the other side of him. Kurt leveled his iciest bitch-glare at Quinn.

Not at all,” she said sweetly. “Just let me know if you have any notes for me too. We can compare after.” Kurt squeezed her knee in thanks.

Kurt was surprised at how good they all looked. Of course it was poorly recorded, and looked like a high school production, but they could really sing, and some of them could even act.

They all commented throughout, some loudly, some to the person sitting next to them, and some just to themselves. Kurt hadn’t been sure, but he’d thought he’d heard laughing during his scenes, which he supposed was a good thing, since he had dialed up the camp to eleven.

When Kurt’s big number came up, he tried to watch critically. They had to change the key, because there was no way his countertenor was going to be able to sing the baritone called for in the role, but it was working. He and Mercedes danced around each other without missing too many steps, and Artie as Kim’s younger brother did a serviceable job.

And he definitely heard laughing behind him

He was about to turn around and glare when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Blaine’s breath across his ear before he spoke. His nose bumped against Kurt’s temple.

“Kurt you are hilarious,” he whispered. “Your timing is amazing!”

Kurt leaned back too fast, his nose bumping Blaine’s, and he felt Blaine suck in a sharp breath as he pulled back.

“I’m sorry, sorry” Blaine whispered. Even in the dark Kurt could see a shadow cross Blaine’s face, his eyes wide and nervous.

Kurt shook his head. “No, it’s okay,” Kurt whispered. “And thanks.”

Kurt turned to face the screen again. He did not need to be having any kind of thoughts about Blaine Anderson.

-

All four performances went off without a hitch, surprising everyone. Well, Kurt did find Quinn making out rather intensely with Puck in a deserted supply room, celebrating together after their last performance. Puck just punched Kurt on the shoulder with an unconcerned ‘s’up’ as he walked out, leaving Quinn and Kurt alone in the closet. Kurt shut the door, cornering her.

“Oh my god Quinn, what are you thinking?” He kept his voice to a whisper; the last thing he wanted was for anyone to hear.

Quinn gave him a soft smile. “Oh don’t worry Kurt.”

Kurt stared at her, blinking repeatedly and throwing his arms up in surrender. “Do you not remember what happened to you last time you got involved with him? I mean, yeah, he can be charming when he’s not being an utterly, utterly selfish sleazeball.” Kurt shook his head sharply.

“I’m sure I remember being pregnant, Kurt,” Quinn snapped.

Kurt was about to open his mouth but shut it when he saw the angry hurt in her eyes, and his own shock at seeing her with Puck waned slightly. He considered his next words carefully.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that” he apologized, edging away from his shocked reaction. “But Quinn, are you really sure this is a good idea?” It was hard for him to fathom. They were so close to getting out of Ohio, out of Lima. The thought that she would get involved with Puck again at this point confused him.

Quinn shrugged. “I’m not that same girl anymore Kurt. And I think I just decided that it was okay to have something for me.” She sighed. “Not every relationship has to be forever, and I’m okay with letting this be what it is, just for now.” Quinn smiled and squeezed his arm. “Now come on, we need to get to the party before everyone thinks there’s something going on between us.”

By the time they made it back to the choir room, half the cast had stripped out of their costumes, there were pizza boxes everywhere, and Puck was spraying Mike and Blaine with non-alcoholic champagne.

Kurt watched Blaine as he pulled a slice of pizza out of a random box. He was wearing sweats and a tank top with his hair still styled like the character he'd been playing for the past few days, and Kurt could feel his skin heat up. He thought about what Quinn had said, and wondered if maybe, just for a little while, he could stop worrying so much and just enjoy the moment.

“Hey,” Blaine appeared at his elbow, a paper plate with a slice of pizza in each hand. “Pizza?”

Blaine’s shirt was soaked, and he smelled a lot like apple cider. He had a hopeful expression on his face, like he was worried Kurt would say no to pizza.

“Sure,” Kurt said, trying to return the sentiment and look pleased as he took the offered slice. He was happy to have the offer. He just wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to convey that to someone. “Who doesn’t like pizza?”

Blaine bit his bottom lip, but his smile dialed up a notch. “Great.”

They chewed in silence for a while, watching their friends enjoy themselves.

“So, uh, Kurt,” Blaine started. “What are your plans for the rest of the semester?”

Kurt shrugged. “Study for finals, any extra credit I can get.”

“Ah yes. Have to maintain that GPA.”

Kurt shot him a glance, wondering if Blaine was mocking him. The grimace on Blaine’s face suggested that maybe he was mocking himself a little bit. Kurt flashed back to what Blaine had said about his parents being able but not entirely willing to pay for him to study performing.

“Well, not all of us get to be so sure our talent will be recognized.” Kurt knew it sounded bitter, and he almost regretted saying it when he saw Blaine’s startled expression.

“Kurt, I -”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” He wondered if every conversation they had would be awkward. “You are, um, very talented. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of options.”

Blaine flushed pink, but Kurt couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or something else. “You will too. I don’t know how you couldn’t.”

Kurt laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “Crossing my fingers.”

“Yeah.” Blaine smiled, but looked somewhat crestfallen as he folded his plate in half. “I guess I’ll see you in class. Good luck on your finals.”

Kurt watched as Blaine gathered his book bag and random items of clothing from around the room, saying goodbye to everyone along the way. Kurt knew why he was so prickly around people, and it had served him well, had made it possible to get through high school. For the first time, though, Kurt wondered if it might be okay if he started to smooth out some edges.

[drjtrkj-blog]

The Liar (chapter 1)

On his seventh month of being free from the confines of his cell, Simon Blackquill received a letter from an inmate requesting his presence at the latter's execution. Also enclosed in the letter were the journal entries of the strange inmate, many of them concerning Blackquill himself, and how he was the biggest liar the inmate had ever met.

A/N: i posted this on ao3 a few months ago and though i had worked on a continuation, i don’t think i’ll be able to wrap it up any time soon. so i guess it’s going on this blog as an archive.

As he sat in the old-fashioned wooden chair, staring blankly through the glass pane and into the room with an empty bed, Simon Blackquill thought of how, a few months ago, that bed would have been his to die on. In prison he used to envision himself being led by kind-hearted nurses, smiling despite the circumstances, into the very room that he was currently fixated at, and then he would be reassured that everything would be alright, that the only pain he would feel would be the pain of the needle and nothing more. And then they would ask him if he had any last words, and he would shake his head—he spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this, and finally he decided not to have any last words at all. It would be easier that way. For some reason, in his imagination, there would only be Fool Bright sitting there in the viewing room. Sometimes, even now as a free man, that very scenario would return as a dream, and in the end Fool Bright was always smiling.

And then Simon thought of the man who was going to be in that bed.

Whenever he was given the opportunity, Simon would launch into a story about his inmates. This inmate was a surgeon. That inmate was a ninja. This inmate said this, another inmate said that. But despite his seemingly endless amount of prison accounts, most of which were about the antics of his inmates, he had never told anyone about Pascal Maitland. There was never an opportunity to talk about Pascal Maitland. There was never an opening in a conversation that was odd or disturbing enough to slip in a story about Pascal Maitland. If one were to be given a brief glance at Pascal Maitland, it was more likely to deduce how odd he was, rather than his apparent criminality. He was an outcast among outcasts; other inmates avoided him, either out of fear or disgust or both. He was the only inmate who had the privilege of always having less than five people sitting on the same table with him at the cafeteria if he had been the first one to arrive, and among those five people, only Simon who would always be there by his own accord. Pascal Maitland occupied the cell in front of him, and for a very long time, he was the only person Simon could consider a friend—or at least something close to it.

Pascal must have felt the same way.

A bailiff knocked on Simon’s office one afternoon stating that he had a request from an inmate. In the bailiff’s hand was a letter, enclosed in a white envelope, and written on the envelope was ‘Simon Blackquill’ in thin, messy letters.

“An inmate has requested that we give this to you as one of his last requests,” said the bailiff. “He also requested your presence at his execution. It’s next week on Friday.”

It’s next week on Friday. The bailiff said it like he was talking about a school talent show.

“Thank you. You may leave.” said Simon. This wasn’t a letter he wanted to read under the supervision a stranger, knowing full well who had sent it, and the bailiff nodded before closing the door again. Simon grabbed a nearby letter opener, seamlessly cut the envelope open—he had been practicing this since he was a boy—and its contents fell onto his desk and floor, the yellowed but neatly folded journal pages looking out of place amongst his white, fresh-from-the-print papers. But there was one sheet of paper from the envelope that wasn’t a journal page nor yellowed, and that was the first sheet of paper from the envelope that Simon read. The thin, messy letters returned again, and a familiar voice returned to his head, a voice that recited the letter with a morbid quality Simon had grown accustomed to back in the clink.

Dear Simon,

Hello. It’s me, Pascal. Pascal Maitland.

I’m going to be executed next week. They’re going to let me eat anything I want for my last supper, and I think I’m going to try that noodle joint you like. I’ll order two bowls of soba and leave the other one for Melchisedec in case my cell doesn’t get occupied for a while. I read somewhere that rats can only last 14 days without food. He squeaks more often now; I think he knows I’m leaving him. I’ve been leaving more bread crumbs for him so he would start thinking more about food and not me.

By the way, I’ve torn out some pages out of my journal for you. I used to write every day, but I only sent you some of the pages from after you came. I already burnt the ones before that since I have no one to give them to, and I’ve already requested that I be buried with some of the pages with you in them—the ones I didn’t send you. If you don’t want to read the ones I sent you, then I completely understand. I don’t even want to read them, and I wrote them, so why should you? But just in case you wanted to read them, I already sent them to you.

Please come to my execution. I don’t have any family left and it wouldn’t look good if no one came. I know the press would be there and if no one were there it would be like Lee Harvey Oswald’s funeral where the reporters on scene end up being the pallbearer because no one showed up to carry his casket and I don’t want that. Anyway, how are you, Simon? I hope you’re doing well. I’ll see you next Friday. We can see each other then.

Pascal Maitland

For some reason, the light-hearted and yet bindingly compulsory nature of the letter did not strike Simon as odd, not even slightly. That was just how Pascal was. The word ‘contradictory’ hung over his head like his very own Sword of Damocles, except it wasn’t a ticking time bomb of peril. The timer had long gone off.

And so, Simon sat there in the viewing room, where he would soon witness the slow, peaceful death of Pascal Maitland. Pascal was right—there were indeed reporters, and they filled in the room all at once as if they were waiting for each other to come, and once they were all there they pointed fingers to decide who would enter the room first. Of course, none of that happened. That was just what Pascal would imagine happening. When the flock of cameramen and reporters flooded the room, they immediately took pictures of Simon Blackquill, the infamous Twisted Samurai, who was apparently the to-be executed’s only friend in prison and vice versa. They asked him questions, and he either ignored them or answered with one or two words. It was easy enough to guess how the press would portray them, if the pictures made it on print—‘Known goon pays hellish imp one last visit’.

Pascal had yet to arrive. Simon was no longer the center of attention, as the vultures were busy with themselves, making phone calls about other affairs or fixing their double-breasted suits or re-applying their lipstick—the last two, Simon didn't understand why, since none of them were going to be on camera unless they wanted to take Pascal’s place. He took this opportunity to fish out the crumpled envelope he had deposited in his pocket, where he began to re-read Pascal’s entries, from the day they met to the day Simon left prison.

DAY 481

It’s been fifteen days. Fifteen days since they got Mac out of the cell only to lock him up in another room so they could give him the one, only and last injection in Mac’s miserable life that he didn’t inject himself. (He didn’t look like someone who was ever vaccinated.) And apparently, fifteen days was all Los Angeles needed for another criminal to turn up, get caught, and take Mac’s place, which is the cell right in front of mine, the furthest cell from the left—my left. Fifteen days. Two weeks and one day. Sometimes you just wonder if being incarcerated is as scandalous as people make it out to be, seeing how increasingly common it’s getting.

This time, the guy’s name is Simon. When he came into the block, some of the others hooted and cheered and laughed in their cells, pointing their huge, ugly-nailed fingers in the guy’s face, like a bunch of high school jocks making fun of some nerd who just got thrown into the dumpster. “I knew you were nasty!” screamed Raymond Glover. I never liked Raymond Glover. I never heard Raymond Glover—I always hear what he has to say, even if I don’t want to, because of his booming voice—refer to anyone as ‘nasty’. So, I thought, whoever Raymond Glover thought was ‘nasty’ was someone I would like to befriend. And it wasn’t just Raymond Glover. Every inmate seemed to have a personal vendetta against this guy, even though, when he entered Mac’s old cell, despite having shackled wrists and a cocky smirk on his face, I could tell right away he wasn’t a criminal, and I know people like Raymond Glover knew that too.

They laughed at him and acted like they knew all along, for some reason, but I know they were surprised. I thought, this guy must’ve been some kind of snitch or something, if he looked like an honour student but had an entire cell block of criminals against him.

“Hello,” I greeted Simon.

He turned around.

“Hello.” He said with a strange snort. “How nice it is to see there’s someone with courtesy here.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nodded. Then I remembered what other inmates asked me when I first got here. It seemed like the right thing to ask.

“What are you in for?”

Fresh meats like Simon, who don’t look like criminals but are in fact criminals, always take a while to answer that question. I’ve talked to enough new cellmates, enough new inmates sitting alone in the cafeteria to know that. Most new Simon-type inmates can’t wrap their heads around the fact that they were now the lowest of all lows, below the Sudra, equal only to the rat that I sometimes see hanging around, and even it runs away when I try to touch it. But Simon wasn’t like that.

Edogawa Ranpo, a Japanese mystery writer whose pseudonym is a play on the Japanese pronunciation of Edgar Allan Poe, whom he cites as his greatest inspiration, once wrote a story about a guy who got caught lying about murdering someone precisely because he was too good at lying. The story is called The Psychological Test. The part of the story that reminded me of Simon is when the detective in charge of the case finally decided that he would hold some sort of psychological test to determine the true culprit—the criminal was a cunning one, and he almost got away with the entire ordeal if it weren’t for this little test. The test was a word association test. The test goes like this; the subject is given a list of words and they are told to say the first thing that comes to mind. A large portion of the words are unrelated to the crime, but sometimes words that do have a connection to the crime are slipped in to throw the subject off guard. The longer it takes for the subject to respond, the more likely it is that they were lying. Hearing of this, the criminal did his homework and practiced with a stopwatch, and ingenious as he was, he managed to ‘get used to’ the test. When the day of the test came, his results were bright, too bright, as he was too quick to answer the words, particularly the words that are related to the crime. And then the detective and the psychologist who administered the test cornered him. And then he confessed everything. What a dumbass.

Everything about Simon was wrong. His smirk was wrong. It was too cocky and too confident and too arrogant. His answer was too quick and too rehearsed. I wanted to tell him that, I wanted to tell him about the story of the criminal who was too good at lying, when he said “Murder” like he was playing the lightning round in a late night quiz show, but I was too confused to say anything other than “Oh, me too”. When he didn’t say anything, I thought I should keep up the conversation. “Lots of people here are murderers too.”

Then he snorted, and that was wrong too, and then I knew why it sounded strange the first time I heard it—it wasn’t real.

“I should know. I prosecuted them.”

“You’re a prosecutor?”

“Well, I was.” Then he laughed like he had a rat living inside his mouth and it had made him choke.

“You laugh a lot,”  I said.

“I find it hard not to nowadays, ever since my mentor died.”

“Did you do that?” I asked.

He looked at me and smiled.

“Yes.”

I didn’t like his smile. It was the biggest lie of all.  I pretended that I didn’t hear him and played with my fingers.

I must have bored him, because he turned his back against me and laid down on the bed. And then I heard the rat; except it didn’t sound as squeaky as it usually does. Instead it sounded like someone was using a sponge to clean the floor; only the sponge had a strange, deep squeak that turned into sucking noises once in a while, like it's vacuuming all the dirt away and getting itself clogged in the process. I closed my ears with my hands, but the noise didn’t go away. If anything, it got louder. My skin felt itchy and my eyes started to hurt the harder I tried to clench them shut.

“Shut up, Melchisedec!” I yelled. And it stopped squeaking.

I only found out that Simon's name was Simon a while after that little talk, when the guards called out his name in the middle of the night—Simon Blackquill. Now every time I see him, I can only see a spectacled chipmunk.

By the time he had finished reading the first entry Pascal had sent him, the other side of the room remained deserted, while Simon’s side of the room only continued to swell with reporters and police officials and more reporters. Pascal would have hated to see them.

With that thought in mind, Simon began to read the next page.

[dydturktek]

Nem Kurutma | Nem Alma | Rutubet Kurutma | DYD 444 0 719

How exactly to date a Geek Girl: Ultimate recommendations and Tips

How exactly to date a Geek Girl: Ultimate recommendations and Tips

Hello, other Internet users! Are you currently skilled into the creative art of pickup? Do you might think you may potentially date any sort of woman? In the event that response is yes, then most likely you might be a multi-faceted and versatile individual and there Should be no nagging problem to show up to virtually any lady while making her fall in deep love with you. in the event that you think you could utilize some assistance, this short article be a fantastic starter. Are you currently a geek yourself or perhaps a poser? Geeks are individuals who enjoy trying out some intellectual career, have narrow spectral range of hobbies, stay up late, doing one thing precisely step-by-step and often underground, less understood. In addition they adore doing things that include maximum Concentration and attention, nonetheless it never ever has to do with sports. Essentially, geeks will be the contrary of jocks. They are over effort with regards to sharing the hobby of the life.

Who’re geek girls?

Geek girls will be the many distinguishable kinds. They could be either enjoying something sincerely, or perhaps pretending so that you can appear cooler. A Geek is a girl whom really really loves videogames, role-plays (not merely those in the bed room), publications, films about certain Universe (like Marvel or DC), anime or cartoons. They frequently seem like the figures from manga or anime. Geek ladies may also admire Korean doramas or some underground art-house that is polish documentaries. These are typically happy with their taste that is musical and pretty capable to kill into the title regarding the artist that is favorite. Constantly go out on Spotify, interested in the uncommon hip-hop that is lo-fi.

They generally admire classic material, having a cardigan that is 40’s-style not like a right man would differentiate it anyhow), likes vinyl records, owns some old-ass boring jazz discography and claims she understands much about Sovietwave or Vaporwave. Probably is as much as self-destructing hobbies like smoking cigarettes because it really is deep, or puffing cannabis her potential to the since it‘opens fullest and receives the juices that are creative. Never mix up geeks with hipsters. a girl that is nerdy either mention she actually is geeky in most phrase which comes away from her Hentai mouth (she will deny if she is boastful), or any accusations in being geeky to check more deep and not participate in a particular subculture. They could be either overambitious and bright or, in thecontrary, timid and innocent (dandere). Just what does a geek girl appear to be?

Geek women think garments will be the most way that is crucial self-expression. They may either look too pretentious (but don’t you will need to find ground that is common between Instagram girls and geeks, it is a various type of pretentiousness), or not worry about their appearance at all. She shall probably possess a Death Note as her notebook, have actually a minumum of one K-On! poster, a Naruto hoodie and some indie-rock T-shirt. Possibly she obsesses over medical practitioner Who merch and it has a handful of licensed or necklaces that are off-brand. She can have a messy ponytail or a quick bob of some color that is unusual such as for example violet or yellowish, chipped polish and plenty of eyeliner.

Ironically, she may possibly invest time that is too much look ‘not caring much about her appearance’. a girl that is nerdy has a set of eyeglasses (but watch out for women that eyeglasses without lenses, their heart can be as fake). They generally bad vision just because of reading a lot of publications and watching a lot of intellectual cinematography. a nerdy girl likes to use anime plaid pleated skirts with knee-high socks and blouses that are cute.

Reasons why you should date a nerd:

1. a nerdy woman is smart, she’s going to focus on better problems than makeup products and checking up on the Kardashians. This woman is broad-minded, loves to learn more about everything, and it is a good interlocutor.

2. Geek women are homely. These are generally less likely to want to cheat and party. Led with a poetic ideal, a geek gf are going to be a perfect spouse. Or even a perfect wifu.

3. Dating a girl that is geeky never be boring. She shall additionally be saturated in a few ideas and concerts, prepared to give out all facets of her life. Besides that, you’d be proud to introduce this woman to your pals. Now she won’t yell you to play at you for not doing laundry, but will happily join Call of Duty.

4. She is your buddy, not merely a sex-partner. Many guys differentiate their GFs from friends, nevertheless now you’ll have something to besides talk aboutyour emotions or sex roles.

Do’s and don’ts whenever dating women that are nerdy

You shouldn’t forget about the most when it comes to arranging a date important points of presenting you to ultimately a geek!

DO! Try to analyze her fandom straight away. All geeks are far more or less Involved in some type or form of communities where they share all of the required information. When you have somewhat blurry eyesight of exactly what this musical organization is and just how you may play a role game, it is advisable for you yourself to begin lurking right now.

DON’T! Try to insult her fandom. Geeks simply hate it! Nobody really wants to hear you’ve got a music that is crappy, they need every person to praise you to be so initial and tasteful. Therefore, if you’ve got any objections, make an effort to express them averagely, other than going difficult on her behalf bad anime soul.

DO! Make compliments and fetishize her. Every geek girlfriend secretly Wants to be fetishized and admired to the true point where you can’t completely function without seeing her pantsu every every now and then. So be really tangled up in this type of relationship.

DON’T! Tell a nerd she actually is a poser or even a bore! Every person desires to be intriguing and regarded as a very good and separate person that doesn’t copy anyone. Regardless if the truth is of annoying posing, don’t make her feel accountable about any of it!

Where and just how to satisfy nerdy girls?

1. At the Comic Con aka the Satan’s den of all of the nerds and weirdos. Here you can view an overabundance of weeaboos, K-popers, Harry Potter fans, Witcher fans and all sorts of the folks through the sweet and place that is warm the Online. Right Here it is possible to look for the sexiest and cutest girls too, as most of those often cosplay the hottest characters.

2. At anti-cafes. This European-invented destination will be a great possibility to begin dating a girl that is nerdy. They usually hang up the phone in tiny teams, consuming coffee, playing some musical instruments or video games.

3. On the world-wide-web. Of course, where do nerds occur? Only in team chats, meme panels or just Tumblr if you’re aiming at a nerd that is artsy.

4. Public collection. A bookworm woman likes it old-school.

Geek girl date some a few ideas

1. Go to a comic shop. right here you will find some interesting comic publications and mangas for every other. It really is a place that is perfect invest on a daily basis along with your bookworm woman.

dating a geeky girl2. Visit a themed cafe. There clearly was a great array of cafes, themed by Harry Potter and wizardry, Marvel films or Japanese vibes – all to your taste!

3. Go to your cinema. Though your town that is native might have a privilege to own themed cafes and stores that are comic you’ll find a film theater nearly every-where. And women that are nerdy adore movies and cartoons.

4. Go up to a workshop. It’s destination where you stand taught to accomplish things. Right Right Here you can easily bake cookies that are geek make anime characters out of clay and revel in our memorable experience.

5. visit the video gaming lounge. It’s a zone that is comfortable gaming channels where you are able to sit back and beat one another in Mortal eliminate. Ideal for users with lame movie cards!

How to flirt with a nerd

1. Flirt subtly. Geek females hate stress and individuals www.brightbrides.net who’re over assertive. Don’t be bashful either, so that you won’t create extra unneeded tension between you two.

2. Be inventive. Geek girl dating should be boring n’t. Locate a typical ground and some approaches to impress your personal future spouse.

3. Be versatile. Make an effort to discover some strange approaches to win her heart. Since nerds have become selective, you can find not really a lot of possibility she would provide her heart up to a complete stranger.

4. Be collected and calm. Hot-headed dudes can scare a bashful and concentrated women. Dating a geek girl should bring delight only when the partnership is shared and sensual.

5. Be a small quirky. All characters that are lovely every bit of art are weirdos. Geek girl dating must certanly be chaotic and unexplainable.

How exactly to date a geek: basic guidelines

1. Be a geek your self. If you should be a jock or perhaps a boring businessman, there was small to no possibility you could see some typical passions to talk over.

2. Be interested in what she does. Every geek includes a skill to accomplish something. Nerdy ladies usually compose poetry, sing or paint. Geek girl dating needs to be spiritual before physical.

3. Share common finds. Since you both are taught to be engaged in some type of informational vortex, now you’re certainly effective at sharing interesting debating and stuff over it together.

Geeks are splendid girls by having an outlook that is interesting. While they may be Slightly peculiar and hard to get to, this relationship shall function as the many rewarding out of anything you ever endured. Therefore don’t hesitate to second base and grab that banner. Perhaps, one time there are your ideal princess Zelda!

https://www.nemkurutma.com/how-exactly-to-date-a-geek-girl-ultimate-10/

NEM KURUTMA HİZMETLERİ

[bwicblog]

> Pheres is teased by Kit, Hadean and Cennef into giving quadrant dating advice. This segues into a minor spat between Pheres and Hadean.

 AA: 'kay, so, who's online rn??

AA: bc i got q's. I M P O RN T A N T q's.

AA: the sornt of q's that can only be answerned by, like, internet strnangerns.

ID: well i'm not an internet stranger anymore really. so i guess i'm fucking useless.

AA: yeah, no, soz, dude, yrn totally fucking useless.

AA: one hundrned perncent about as helpful as playing fournsquarnes w/ cullbait. >:}

AA: abt as helpful as eating mind honey to chill the fuck out.

ID: wow aren't you just in a mood this evening. =:P is it because we're all going to die? or so the newsfeeds are saying.

SS: (Shxt, pal, am X dxsqualxfxed?)

SS: (On accounta X'm only the regular kxnda stranger danger that you, lxke, happened to xnternet stalk?)

SS: (And oh em gee, pal, who says we're gonna dxe?

SS: (What, dxd some old calendar end agaxn?)

SS: (Protxp: Xf X can't up and set up coffee to brew xn the evenxn, folks what lxved, lxke, three bxllxon sweeps ago, they probs dxdn't GAF about makxn sure thexr sweep cycles were set up for, lxke, eternxty.)

LC: [ I heard strangers are needed and I am not YYet well-acquinted with everYYone here so... ] LC: [ Also "everYYone going to die"? Did I miss something? ]

ID: i'm assuming you haven't been outside and seen the giant fuck-everything meteor. you losers.

ID: look outside. notice how light it is?

SS: (Nope. (\eue/) )

SS: (But that axn't news to me.)

ID: well congrats, you're a hivebound loser. take a bow.

AA: oops, soz, someone was shrnieking outside. >:P AA: and stfu, hads, i am so not in a mood. i'm, like, in the O P P O S I T E of a mood. >:} AA: i am fucking E X C I T E D.

LC: [ Hold on. ] LC: [ Let me put on mYY safetYY goggles... I see it... Oh. That's reallYY bad. ]

SS: (What, for cereals?) SS: (Do X gotta go and run through my bucket lxst now?)

ID: i mean. go for i guess sip. gonna go in to space and punch the meteor to death?

ID: i mean i'm just spending my last apparent night alive soaking in this bathtub until i either turn in to a giant prune or i grow gills.

AA: and yrn totes dq'd, lal, but w/e, w/e, i ain't just getting ops frnom a blue. >:} AA: grnoup vote!!

LC: [ YYou don't need to run a bucket list but -- even I have a hard time estimating how bad it is. ] LC: [ YYou might WANT to find an underground safe spot and hope it breaks up into small enough parts that it doesn't wipe out entire neighbourhoods. ]

SS: (Shxt, pal, what're you gonna do xf you up and grow gxlls?) SS: (Bxt late for that kxnda groundbreakxn scxentxfxc dxscovery, axn't xt? (\eue/) )

AA: should i orn should i not, like, go to the doomsday parnty?? AA: bc ppl arne thrnowing one.

ID: i mean yeah, but i get to die an abomination.

ID: that seems like fun.

AA: to celebrnate ourn I M P E N D I N G DE -- omggg. AA: if you grnow gills, gimme deets!! AA: also, pics. AA: also, yrn bod.

ID: and idk sip.

AA: forn science.

SS: (You're probs gonna get shanked, but X'm, lxke, puttxn that on the 'pros' column.)

SS: (Buxlds character!)

ID: hour 1 of soaking- no gills so far. =:'(

SS: (Well, exther that, or peeps're gonna be fxllxn thexr bucket lxst, xf you get what X mean, xn whxch case, lxke, you should probs dxtch.) SS: (Or maybe throw fxrecrackers at 'em.)

LC: [ I didn't talk about gill growing. Even if YYou got a basement or a room underneath YYour hive should suffice. ] LC: [ I enjoYY celestial objects and observing asteroids but it's so close and so bright even I have a hard time giving YYou an estimation on how bad it is. ]

VC: I can't believe the Empirrre is being so irrresponsible about this asteroid.

VC: Don't they carre if theirrr cannon fodderr gets destrrroyed.

ID: the fleet defense really dropped the ball. i hope heads roll for this.

SS: (Nah, dude, they've always wanted that pesky Mother Grub gone!) SS: (Xt's the perfect opportunxty! (\unu/) )

ID: y'know. other than our meteor smashed in ones.

AA: lmfao. get yrn mind out of a pail forn once, lal. not evernyone's as mad thirnsty as you.

AA: except tc, i guess. >:}

VC: Don't insult poorrr TC like that.

SS: (Dude, X'm the one tellxn you not to go to that xsh!)

LC: [ Well, hopefullYY this asteroid lands at a barren land and doesn't cause major damage to anYYone. ]

VC: What did they everr do to you.

ID: c'mon vc tc is sooo thirsty.

SS: (Sweeps of modern medxa have taught me that that's totes what peeps do at partxes lxke that.)

VC: I can't say I've met them morrre than once.

ID: she said she wants to hear me scream in horror and shit.

VC: ...wow

VC: That's cerrrtainly something.

SS: (And obvx that's a relxable source.)

LC: [ That's the most I can contribute to this discussion. And... oh. That doesn't sound good, ID. ]

SS: (What'd you even do to get on her shxtlxst, pal?)

ID: i told her that she needed to fight me to fight gliese.

VC: Yes, do tell.

VC: If It must die, let it be listening to gossip.

VC: ...why this

ID: and also denied her a lobster date.

LC: [ Lobster date? ]

VC: Why arre some people in this chat rrroom mystifyingly dedicated

VC: To defending the worrrst of bluebloods

SS: (X'm sure there axn't no reason for her to up and be eggxn to take a go at you, after that kxnda dedxcatxon to warnxn her off!)

ID: i like gliese, she fed me and like. in the scope of blues she's decent.

ID: no offense to you lc, you seem like you might be okay?

ID: the jury is still out.

VC: Ughhhh

VC: Well, whateverrr, trrying to arrgue with that jade boy got me nowherre

VC: So I guess I ought to turrn my mind to cheerrrier topics, like impending annihiliation

LC: [ None taken. I personallYY prefer to get along with most others - even if it's a task that I can't alwaYYs achieve. ]

ID: oh hush ss. platonic fighting is a thing.

SS: (X for one, am totes cowerxn xn my boots.) SS: (And shxt, pal, X axn't saxd nothxn 'bout nonplatonxc, here! You're the one up and callxn her thxrsty on accounta just wantxn some good ol' fashxoned screams of paxn and xsh. (\qnq/) )

SS: (What xf she's just, uh. Hard of hearxn??)

SS: (Gotta be real sure she's stabbxn you proper-lxke!)

ID: she told me she wants to shove my head in horse piss so.

ID: that was definitely a thing i had to read.

VC: Haha _wow_

SS: (That's the wrong kxnda thxrsty, pal.)

LC: [ Impending annihilation is not the cheeriest of the topics. ] LC: [ However, if anYYone plans to watch the asteroid I'd suggest using sunglasses, or anYY glasses that got a darkened lense. ] LC: [ If others have them, that is. ]

VC: Why would I want to watch the asterroid. Will seeing it and telling it it's pretty make it sparre me.

SS: (Yeah, dude, but only xf you say xt real nxce-lxke!)

ID: i mean i'm just content to chill in this warm water. fuck looking at our doom.

SS: (None of that passxve aggressxve xsh, thxs asteroxd axn't no floozy!)

VC: Once again you manage to be the tone of nonsense, L - SS.

LC: [ I know there are some who are into that, VC, and it won't reallYY spare anYYone until it lands. ] LC: [ Which, given how far it is from the ground, could be prettYY soon. ]

VC: Joyous

SS: (Whaaat?) SS: (And here X am, offerxn you my advxce and wxdom!)

SS: (Pal! Lxke, hashtag rude.)

VC: Only a blind and deaf pupa would think you had eitherr

AA: ghdfghdfghdfgh AA: oh my gooood, why do you ppl talk so much?

AA: i look away forn, like, five mins and therne's like fifty million msgs.

VC: Well

AA: fuck you, i'm not backrneading.

VC: This is a serrrverr for it

SS: (Gotta entertaxn the crowds you up and left waxtxn, duh!)

ID: we're enjoying our final nights sip, rude.

VC: Last I checked

SS: (Axn't my fault you're up and xnconsxderate!)

LC: [ HopefullYY not the final-final ones. ]

VC: Perrhaps it has been forr emoji-communication only

VC: And I have been misled

AA: T O T A L L Y ourn final nights.

SS: ( (\ouo/) )

SS: ( (\ouo/) )

SS: ( (\ouo/) )

SS: ( (\ouo/) )

AA: emoji only??

LC: [ YYou are all sure a cheerYY crowd. ]

VC: oh god I rrregrrret everrrything

SS: ( (\^u^/) )

ID: i tried ordering room service and apparently like all the hotel staff just ollied out on working.

AA: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SS: ( (\?^?/) )

LC: [ Uh... ]

SS: ( (\unu/) )

AA: that's bc yrn on the lame continent, hads. AA: this is what happens when you leave the desernt, dude. ppl fucking suck.

SS: ( (\eue/) )

SS: (Hey, waxt!)

LC: [ To be fair, all continents got their advantages. ]

SS: (Fuck you, X'm on shxft rxght now.)

LC: [ And disadvantages. ]

ID: also who here is a nerd scientist. i have questions that i should have asked last night but only figured out after i signed out.

VC: Not I

SS: (Hello, X have my nerd lxcense pendxng!)

LC: [ I am not a nerd scientist, but if it's related to cartographYY or... astrologYY, I might be able to help. ]

SS: (But better'n Sxpa, on accounta her's got revoked when she went jock.)

AA: wow, rnude.

VC: I do courrrierr worrk

VC: And knit things

SS: (X'm under xnvestxgatxon for emo, unfort.)

AA: that's okay, dude, i'm gonna rnough you up and take yrns.

ID: well gee you four seem like you'll be hella useful.

VC: Forr what

AA: stfuuuu, i'm always S U P E RN useful.

VC: Planning a band?

AA: dd on your qqs!!

SS: (Fxrst my horns, now my nerd lxcense!)

VC: Sorrry, neverr learrned an instrrrument

SS: (A real frxend, you are, Sxpa!)

LC: [ Well gee. We _might_ be useful. ]

ID: so if you're a troll who never sleeps in sopor is it safe to just dive right back in to it. because there's a coon here but i slept on the floor.

SS: (Only xf you chug xt.)

AA: sharning is carning, dude.

VC: It might knock you out forr a bit long, but otherrr than that, no.

AA: and - idk, idk, how much you wanna wake up the next evening?

VC: When I firrst came back to it I slept much morre heavily than I was used to

VC: But I got used to it quickly.

VC: Orr well. I guess came back is wrrrong

SS: (You gotta get used to xt real quxck, pal! Acclxmate your bod and xsh!) SS: (By chuggxn some afore you go coon. (\unu/) )

VC: But neverr mind

AA: phern doesn't do soporn and if you put him in a coon, he is out forn, like, H O U RN S. AA: dumped an entirne kettle of watern on his headfluff and he didn't fucking blink.

VC: Ignorrre SS

VC: They don't know anything

AA: ... but then again, he totally didn't chug it.

LC: [ Depends on how long YYou haven't slept in sopor. ] LC: [ I went 1-2 weeks of period without sleeping in sopor at times. ] LC: [ But it got different effects on everYYone. It tends to knock me out for longer. ] LC: [ Also I disagree on chugging it. Don't do it. ]

AA: listen to lal, man, he's the wornd of wisdom herne. >:}

ID: i mean it's been.

SS: (Fuck you, VC, Sxpa and X are totes the certxfxed scxenterrorxsts here.)

ID: we'll just say it's been a long while.

VC: If Laledy is wisdom than the asterrroid should end me now

SS: (Shxt, pal, X bet X've got you beat!)

ID: so good on me for not climbing in.

ID: i mean probably not but sure ss, you get the crown.

SS: (And go stand outsxde and stare at the lxght, Cennef, xt'll do xt's work quxcker that way!)

LC: [ Then hopefullYY other than sleeping for longer than YYou should it shouldn't have anYY side effects. ] LC: [ But if the sopor is gross on the top, clean that off. ]

AA: wait wtf why don't I get a crnown??

VC: I trrreassurre my rremaining moments, spent in the company of idiots they might be.

VC: ...with the exception of ID and LC

AA: lal, soz, i'm also beatin' you forn yrn crnown.

SS: (Dude, xf you're gonna be borxng about the one-up game, at least dd on your ~totes vxctory~.)

LC: [ Cause that's not healthYY to mix with the still decent bits. ]

AA: this is just like a full scale fucking shakedown, apparnently. >:}

ID: sorry lal, no deets, you're too busy fighting for your crown.

SS: (Why are you up and beatxn me up for everythxn??) SS: (You want my wallet, too?) SS: (X got some lxnt, a pxce of gum, and two caegars.)

AA: shit, you gonna give me yrn wallet?

ID: also fuck yeah, i'm not an idiot.

SS: (Thxs just xn: XD tryxn to be edgy, can't be botherxn to be entertaxnxn whxle he's at xt.)

AA: bc, y, then i totes want it.

VC: Unforrrunately he's prrrobably rright.

VC: Given I once took his sorrry carrrcass forr food.

SS: (You're gonna hafta buy me a wallet fxrst, Sxpa, X axn't actually got one.)

SS: (But X'll totes gxve xt to you after!)

AA: uuuuuuuugh.

ID: man sip do you just collect us poor little beggars.

AA: 'kay, so, like, step O N E of the fairn is buying you a wallet. AA: step two is rnoughing you up forn it.

LC: [ FranklYY, sopor is gross and I never can fathom how some trolls out there can turn it into a sopor pie and eat it. ]

VC: What a time-honorrred trrradition

SS: (Dude, VC, that was a date.)

VC: It baffles me too, LC

VC: That was the exact opposite of a date

VC: Emprrress forrrbid

LC: [ It's... toxic. It's known to be toxic to be consumed in such manner. ]

ID: i mean alcohol is toxic too but trolls love glugging it down.

SS: (But xf xt makes you feel better to say you totes meant to get your charxty cred xn afore the asteroxd kxlled us all, X'm down, X'm down.) SS: (See, X'm a nxce guy! (\unu/) )

VC: Alcohol at least doesn't look entirrrely unappetizing

ID: i say it depends on the alcohol.

VC: Warrn me when you'rrre about to actually be funny, Laledy, I nearly hurrrt my own thrroat laughing.

VC: If you'rrre nice then I fearrr forr trollkind

LC: [ That's true - I am not a fan of alcohol to be honest with YYou ID. ] LC: [ There are well. Alot of such things. ]

SS: (Sure, pal, axn't nothxn up and even tolerant 'bout puttxn up wxth some rando rustxe monologuxng 'bout her you totes suck whxle you server her a drxnk.) SS: (TFW workxng customer servxce, tbh.)

ID: some trolls are gonna destroy their thinkpans one way or another! some choose alcohol, or drugs, or sopor pies. or getting hit in it a lot i guess.

AA: y, exactly.

VC: Some spend time with Laledy

VC: He's rright about one thing, if I had any sense, I would have just left

LC: [ Well all those options are unpleasant. Save for the last one, VC. I don't know LaledYY well enough to draw anYY judgements YYet. ]

SS: (Shxt, u rxte!) SS: (X axn't never met Sxpa xn my lxfe!)

VC: Prrray you neverr know him well enough to tell

AA: nah, getting hit in the pan lots is W A Y fun.

ID: all i know about ss is that he seems like a yappy little ankle-biting woofbeast. only his yapping is dirty jokes.

SS: (For me.)

AA: go take a few rnounds, lc. >:}

AA: don't frnont, lal, if someone hit you in the head, it'd, like, pop off. >:P

SS: (Dude, don't put me on front street lxke that!) SS: (X'm sensxtxve 'bout the fact that xt's prosthetxc, axght??)

VC: That's not too farr off, ID

ID: of course not, i'm a good judge of character. =:P

LC: [ ... Well. ] LC: [ I have a feeling that was a quick summarYY YYou just gave there, ID. ] LC: [ And uh, AA, does YYour job involve such incidents happening, or... ]

VC: It does, arrren't you some rrring fighterr orr something, AA

AA: i get paid to pop ppl in the face. it's harnd wornk, but somebody's gotta do it.

AA: >:P

SS: (VC's the best judge a'character, XD, don't even flxp!) SS: (She's exp good at judgxn folks that she's up and throwxn xsh xn the faces off whxle they're tryxn to fxgure out how she lxkes her drxnk.) SS: (#Tfw actually salty abt thxs shxt.)

ID: sip isn't dedicated enough to the cause to pop people in the face for free.

VC: oh wow, did I actually pierrce yourr veneerr of indifferrrence and flippancy

VC: Colorrr me surrprrised

SS: (X'd lxke my asshole cred to be dedxcated to my actual awful qualxtxes, pal!) SS: (X axn't no sellout. (\qnq/) )

SS: (You're ruxnxn my xmage!)

AA: wait, wait, arne we rneffing me orn

VC: I think you've well supplied those.

AA: omfggg, stop using handles, use rneal names. i can't keep up w/ this shit and yrn quirnks. >:{

VC: In my case.

ID: i forget names.

ID: uh. sip. lal? uh.

VC: I admittedly stayed away forrr a while after causing some disputes

ID: i don't even know lc's name.

AA: tattoo them on yrn knuckles!!

SS: (Eyyy, X made the lxst! (\ouo/) )

LC: [ Ah, I see AA. ] LC: [ And just call me YYerman. So YYou don't need to refer to me bYY handle. ]

AA: look, 'kay, if you don't rnemebern names, i'll totes G I V E folks names.

ID: yer it is.

AA: lc, yrn now yern.

VC: So I don't expect people to know mine, and I'm a bit unfamiliarrr with most otherrs

AA: vc, yrn now... foxy.

SS: (Omfg, Cennef, dxd you for cereals get run outta town??)

ID: look at sip. bitching about quirks when hers messes up people's names.

VC: No

SS: (How salty do you gotta be tho.)

CC: my quirnk ain't nevern messed up anybody's name, losern.

SS: (Also, shxt, mb, soz for callxn you by the wrong name, Foxy.)

ID: i mean okay, sorry yern this is your name now.

CC: unlike lals'. >:} is it id or xd?? we just don't know.

SS: (Xt's obvx ecks dee, dude.)

AA: yern is his name, y. totes just established that. AA: trny to keep up!

LC: [ Uh, YYern? That. Well. ]

SS: (Xt's always ecks dee.)

LC: [ Alright, I guess. ]

VC: Oh look, now you've made the poorr cerrulean uncomforrrtable

VC: and if I'm sympathizing, up is down, left is rrright

ID: oh also i'm hadean yern.

AA: uncomfy, orn grnateful that i all went up and imprnoved his shit?

AA: y, yern, i'm siparna.

ID: since no one was nice enough to say my name. =>:I

LC: [ I am not uncomfortable, VC. I just got surprised cause I looked awaYY for a moment. ]

LC: [ I am alright. ]

VC: Oh, you _are_ some sorrrt of prrizefighterr arren't you?

AA: lmfao, soz, frnom now on, i'll totes starnt intrnoducing you F I RN ST.

VC: I know I've hearrd that name somewherre

LC: [ ID, sorrYY, how maYY I call YYou? ]

AA: hadean. >:}

ID: ^^^^

AA: no nicknames, that shit's lame.

VC: ...ugh, wait, I know wherre now

ID: how many times have you nicknamed me sip. =:I

VC: Damn you, Matarrri

VC: Oh well

AA: and y, foxy, i am totes famous. wicked mad famous. so famous you've prnobs got a coonpillow w/ my face on it.

VC: Ha

AA: if you do, btw, take pics, that's fucking weirnd.

VC: No

AA: arne you surne.

AA: and haaaads. AA: yrn nickname is like, a show of ourn special cornpse buddy bond, duh.

VC: I can't knit one, so it holds no interrrest forr me

ID: oh well in that fucking case i suppose i can accept it.

LC: [ Ah, alright. Thanks. ] LC: [ And I am afraid mYY coon pillows don't meet that rating AA. TheYY all got map prints on them. ]

VC: ...so you can find wherrre to go to sleep everry day?

VC: I'd think you wouldn't get lost doing _that_

AA: lmfao, well, _good_. AA: and mb they'rne blind, foxy.

ID: you fancy trolls and your coon pillows.

AA: yrn trnying to grnow gills in a bathtub, dude, don't starnt shit abt coon pillows.

AA: S O M E O F U S use coonpillows to cope. AA: with not having giant ass ablution trnaps. >:'{

LC: [ VC. ] LC: [ I wouldn't want to go into that, thank YYou. ] LC: [ And uhm, definitelYY not blind. Well. ]

VC: Maybe I'm a deep-dwelling fuchsia, Siparra

VC: Somehow I doubt it

VC: See?

ID: man i gotta admit this ablution trap is the fucking best.

ID: it's been like five perigees since i got hot water sip let me enjoy this. =>:I

LC: [ I am onlYY blind if I don't find mYY glasses. Because mYY vision gets blurrYY. ] LC: [ Other than that, I am fine. ]

VC: _Five perrigees_ ?

VC: What on Alterrrnia have you been doing, ID.

LC: [ And YYou should totallYY enjoYY YYour hot water, Hadean. ]

ID: traveling. using the rain. or barrels.

VC: Maybe the asterrroid will cull some unforrrtunate sap and you can take theirrr hive, if it doesn't get the lot of us

AA: hot watern's pointless unless you add B U B B L E S.

AA: did you add bubbles??

ID: i got fucking water jets in this thing.

ID: which is superior to bubbles.

LC: [ That's indeed, superior. ] LC: [ And five sweeps is a long time. YYou definitelYY deserve that. ] LC: [ ... Is the asteroid still in the air? It should have landed bYY now, or so I think. ]

ID: i dunno. i'm busy in the bath so some other loser look.

VC: LC, he said _perigees_

VC: ...not to be pedantic

VC: Except I am

VC: Oh well

VC: Hang me laterr orr wait forr the asterroid forr my impudence, orr something

ID: no i have now never been in hot water for five sweeps.

LC: [ Perigees or not, anYYone deserves a good hot water time. ] LC: [ ... Given the troll in question is not the scum of Alternia, that is. ]

SS: (Wow, pal, that's some srs shade you're throwxn, there!)

VC: ...what standarrrds do you have forr scum

LC: [ I should have clarified that last bit, but seriouslYY, there are trolls who go out of their waYY to just mutilate and harm others* who didn't offend them for no good reason. ]

LC: [ Or caused them no harm. Or no issues. ]

ID: hahah mmm just gonna enjoy this hot water.

SA: define offend.

VC: Prrobably hit them overr the head

VC: That generrrally classifies offense on Alterrnia

VC: That orr stealing my god damned yarrn, which is unforrrgivable

VC: also hello SA, I don't think I've seen you beforrre

LC: [ Offend as in, didn't hurt their emotions or them phYYsicallYY. ]

LC: [ This is a complex subject I brought mYYself into, isn't it. ]

SA: hello. You haven't.

VC: Congrrrats forr noticing, LC.

VC: Morrralls arren't always clearr-cut, who knew.

ID: welcome to the chatroom then sa. it's kinda busy right now.

SA: many trolls have a fragile ego, anything could be a would to their emotions. I admire your ability to continue digging this hole, LC.

VC: That it is.

VC: HA

VC: Okay, I like this one

LC: [ Thanks, but no need for the sass. ] LC: [ Well, exactlYY. So I feel like I should stop digging this hole now. ]

ID: i'm offended by yern's definition of offense.

VC: Oh my

VC: Shall you duel him overr it

LC: [ WhYY exactlYY? ]

ID: no because that would make me scum apparently. =:'(

VC: Just like with that jade boy?

VC: HA

VC: Oh yes, we can't have that

VC: Is your ego frrragile as well, as SA mentioned

ID: well lc is seeing everything from a blueblood lens.

LC: [ Well I can't think about everYY possible exceptions that exist on Alternia. ]

VC: Mm, trrue

ID: it's different.

LC: [ I trYY to see the world not just through cerulean and blueblooded lenses, but alas I am aware that task is not easYY to achieve. ]

VC: Well, crredit forr being awarrre, I suppose

LC: [ There are things I might overlook unintentionallYY, so forgive me for that. ]

SA: I've already decided i'm going to nitpick everything you say and we've just met.

SA: I'm very sorry.

ID: well at least you apologized for being privileged.

VC: This sounds verry enterrtaining

LC: [ Well I am positive that decision is not exactlYY... A good one, SA. ]

AA: oh my god.

AA: sa, i've decided yrn my new fave.

AA: what arne we nitpicking??

VC: LC's errrorrs

SA: their many errors.

SA: It may not be a good one but it has yet to yield a majority unpopular result.

LC: [ I am onlYY a troll, just like everYYone else. ]

ID: uh not like everyone else, you're blue. duh.

LC: [ No one is perfect, and I'd be a fool to claim that I am. ]

VC: SA is cleverr and plays the crrowd

LC: [ Well I can't help about the blood colour I was born with, and no one else can. ]

VC: Clearly we have an experienced crritic herre

ID: you'll see when soaking in this tub turns me violet.

SA: perhaps you should use a tinted bathbomb, it may yield faster results, ID.

LC: [ ... Well I feel like I should bid mYY farewell for now and keep an eYYe out for this meteor. ]

VC: If you grrow gills I support Siparra dissecting you

VC: Forr science

ID: fucking rude vc.

VC: what

VC: I just want to ~add to ourr pool of knowledge~

VC: Orr whateverr scientists say

ID: hahah bye lc i think we overwhelmed they guy.

SA: goodbye, LC. Next time I would like your name.

VC: Yerrrman

VC: ...Yerman

ID: i want my soft squishy body in one piece.

VC: That's his name

AA: n, foxy, yrn getting it wrnong.

AA: jfc, drnag a guy A N D fuck up his name, why don't you?

AA: his name's yern.

AA: sa. jsyk. >:}

VC: Oh of courrrse

VC: My bad

VC: Yes, SA, his name is clearrly Yer, ignore everrrything else.

AA: yern!!!

VC: Yernman.

VC: Ha

SA: ...Yern...

SA: I am sorry.

VC: Forr what

VC: You didn't brrring the asterroid did you

VC: In that case you should be sorrrry

VC: For strrressing us all out

SA: yes, i used astronomically scaled telekinesis and a number of steroids to rip something in space into our orbit to terrorize strangers.

SA: I haven't heard of any asteroid. did something happen?

VC: what

VC: have you not looked out yourrr window

ID: or read any newsfeed.

SA: i've spent the last few days in relative isolation, actually. Playing my handheld.

ID: oh great we got another nerd in here didn't we.

ID: what flavor nerd are you?

SA: the completionist kind.

SA: what kind of nerd are you?

VC: Completing what, though

VC: HA

TC: !s Hadea~ be!~g a~ ass aga!~

ID: i'm the not a nerd kind.

VC: Hadean's a wanderring nerrd, I'd say

ID: oh god she's back.

VC: oh, is this yourr violently amorrrous pitch suitorrr

RS: | Hahaha | I think He Is | Judging from What I Just Read | RS: | Or | Well | RS: | Not Moreso than Anyone Else | ? |

RS: | | Violently Amorous Pitch Suitor | ? |

TC: Excuse me?

SA: games. I complete games a hundred percent. A wandering nerd would be useful, knowing all sorts of jeopardy facts about travel.

SA: is this gossip?

TC: !D what have you bee~ tell!~g people about me?

ID: i mean i travel but i'm not good at remembering shit about where i've been.

ID: oh i just shared some of your comments.

ID: y'know. the horror screams and horse piss ones.

RS: | The | What | Piss Ones |

RS: |- What -|

ID: tc just wants to drown me in horse urine, nbd.

SA: that's. disgusting.

VC: It is, isn't it

RS: | That's not Pitch | That's Simply Alarming |

VC: I was joking, Pheres

RS: | TC | I am Disappointed | =:( |

VC: Honest pitch is rrarrely founded by disgusting thrreats, haha

VC: And oh, you like games, SA?

VC: What kind?

RS: | Oh | I don't Know | You would Be Surprised | Cennef | RS: | Especially | at Some of the Residents of This Server |

ID: all because i told tc she had to fight me if she wanted to fight gliese. =:'(

SA: most pitch relationships are violent pranks and misaligned intentions. it is about being pointlessly mean, as children are.

SA: VC, I play pokemon.

VC: !!!!

VC: so do I!

VC: Though I usually call it Fiduspawn, haha

RS: | | Is It | ? | RS: | I don't Think It Is | SA | If You will Pardon My Interruption |

VC: And pfft, SA

VC: How old arre you, then

SA: how old are you?

VC: 9 sweeps

SA: older.

VC: Well goodness

SA: by one sweep.

RS: | It's more About Rivalry | Isn't It | ? |

SA: 😃

VC: I didn't rrealize we werre - ha

RS: | Hahaha |

VC: Not THAT much olderr then

SA: no, but enough i could be nitpicky about it. Also, I don't think that is the intention of blackrom, no. But I think that's wha ti becomes. my roommate experienced something like that in his blackrom.

SA: what are you experiences?

VC: Mm, technically I've neverr had a pitch

ID: a good rivalry is hard to find and a lot of trolls just settle for whoever is a jerk to them.

VC: But my ideal one would be a strrrong rivalrrry wherre we both encourrage each other to become betterrr

TC: ! sta~d by my words to Hadea~

VC: Otherrwise it would be borrring

TC: Horse p!ss a~d all

SA: horse piss has nothing to do with becoming better.

VC: Oh, I'm so glad you felt the need to rrreiterrate that

VC: It really doesn't

SA: unless it doubles as a radioactive spiderbite and gives you superpowers.

VC: Perrhaps you want to look up some pitchrrrom tips, TC

SA: which I doubt.

VC: Ha

VC: Even if it did

VC: Is that RRREALLY worrrth it

TC: You're ~ot fu~~y VC, !'m ~ot p!tchfl!rt!~g

RS: | Oh | I don't Think | RS: | My Blackroms have been Dreadful | Haha | But | It's a Relationship | ! | There has to be Something More Appealing about Someone | RS: | Than Merely Their Ability to Infuriate You | Otherwise | Why would You ever Stick Around | ? |

SA: I asked my roommate tha tsame thing.

VC: Gosh, you don't mind my charrmingly light-pumperred barrbs amusing? Woe.

SA: anyone can infuriate someone. It is not hard.

SA: clearly i am pitch for

SA: yern.

VC: HA

SA: ?

VC: I don't think much of yourrr taste, SA

VC: what does a mild cerrulean have to offerrr you in way of rrrivalrry

VC: See how easily he backed off?

RS: | Haha | RS: | I don't Know | I could Ship It | =:P |

VC: _Rreally_, Pherrres

VC: You arre such a dorrrk

SA: Nothing, but they are an example of how easy it is to say anything remotely negative is a black flirtation. like RS said.

SA: please do not ship it.

RS: | Yes | ! | Look at That | Ah | RS: | Mildly Contentious Ire | that was On-Going | RS: | Clearly Romcom Material |

VC: Ha

SA: also what ID said, I apologize. This is the busiest thing i've seen in a long time.

SA: It is cozy

ID: ahahah might have fallen asleep in the bath.

ID: nearly rip me.

SA: remove yourself.

TC: stay !~ the bath

TC: Fall asleep some more

ID: and there's tc being tc again.

SA: that was a not very subtle wish for their demise.

TC: Fuck off

SA: i ship this.

TC: That was - what, ~o

ID: eww.

SA: 😂

ID: no one is allowed to ship me. =:I

TC: That's d!sgust!~g a~d you should feel bad, SA

VC: Not even in a charrming pale orrr ashen quad? Darrn

VC: Therre go my plans

ID: wait what.

RS: | Oh My |

SA: I'm only teasing.

ID: vc better be kidding too.

VC: clearrrly I'm _100%_ serrrious

VC: so serrrious

VC: you don't even know

RS: | Your Ashen Aspirations are as Clear as the Murdercomet Soaring Through Our Skies |

VC: Maybe I have an entirrre shipping wall

RS: | It is Too Late | They have been Unveiled |

ID: pff ashen what.

VC: Gasp

ID: hard pass.

VC: Pherres has caught me out

SA: who are you shipped with, VC?

VC: Haha

VC: No one!

SA: liar.

VC: No, rreally

RS: | She Said | Her Plans have been Dashed | of a Charming Pale or Ashen Quad |

VC: I have somehow escaped that - hahaha

RS: | I am Making No Assumptions Here | RS: | Only Taking Her at Her Word | =:B |

VC: except forrr my clearrrly entirely serrious inclinations towarrrd Hadean.

ID: oh pelase schoolfeed us pheres. master of quads.

RS: | Only if You Say Please |

ID: i just fucking did.

RS: | I am Not Certain | what Pelase Is |

VC: Oh please, grrreat Pherrres, masterrr of quads

ID: smartmouth. =:I

VC: do tell us yourrr wisdom.

RS: | =:B |

RS: | | Wait | What Wisdom | ? |

RS: | I have Lost Track of This Joke |

VC: I'm surrre we will all benefit.

ID: your wisdom of alll the quads.

VC: About quads, you absurrrd dweeb.

ID: you're more successful than us poor pupas.

VC: Werre you not paying attention.

VC: Clearrly we all need your guidance.

ID: with our bleak empty quads.

SA: a negligent teacher.

ID: =:'(

VC: Except perrhaps SA, who seems to be a harrdened veterran

SA: yes, with my many quadrants. All filled. all flawless.

ID: sa is the idol we must all aspire to.

SA: hell no.

SA: i am not allowed to have quadrants. simple.

VC: SA, why won't you accept ourrr - what

SA: it leaves plenty of room for judgement

VC: Why

RS: | Haha | Oh My | RS: | SA has to Share Their Wisdom | ! | I could Give You Advice | But

RS: | Wait | Why | ? |

SA: i'm more interested in RS's advice.

ID: ahahah no romance because judgement. that's new.

SA: I mean because i can make no relationship faux pas i can judge you all i'd like.

VC: Hah

RS: | I am More Interested in Your Advice | ! | So I am Afraid | We are at an Impasse |

ID: sa has no advice so cough up yours pheres.

ID: no backing out now.

ID: we said please.

RS: | Oh | Heavens |

IA: Is every-one sharing relati-onship advice?

ID: not everyone, just pheres.

RS: | | I've Only Got One Quadrant | You Two are Exceptionally Silly | RS: | I don't Think My Advice will prove Exceptionally Sage | in Light of That |

RS: | Yes | We are Absolutely |- ALL -| Sharing Relationship Advice |

RS: | Please Start | IA |

ID: you've never had any other quads ever? =:/

IA: --Oh dear

ID: share the one quad knowledge then! plenty of sageness to ingest.

RS: | I mean | Of Course I've had Past Quadrants | RS: | But | So have You | ! |

IA: Always kn-ow where y-our quadrants live in case -of emergencies?

ID: ahahah guess again.

ID: my quads are salted withered husks.

RS: | Oh | Come On | RS: | You've never Had a Quadrant At All | ? | Ever | ? | RS: | You're Older than I | Aren't You | ? |

RS: | And | IA | Haha | RS: | That is Sage Advice | I will Second | =:) |

ID: nah. i'm just not a good catch clearly!

SA: what salt did you use for that? himalayan pink or sea?

RS: | Oh | RS: | | I'm sure It's Not That | Haha | You are Perfectly Lovely | and Will Find Someone Eventually |

CC: I mean, I haven't ever had a pro=per quadrant! CC: But I think I'm also= yo=under than yo=u, Pheres. ／(=⌒x⌒=)＼ CC: So= it pro=bably do=esn't co=unt fo=r much.

RS: | For Each Square |

ID: the salt that burns your feet if you step on it bare.

SA: delicious.

RS: | ! | ! | ! | How have You |- NOT -| had a Quadrant | Kit | ? | RS: | That seems Implausible |

CC: !!

RS: | Or | Like Everyone You Know has Exceptionally Dreadful Taste |

CC: I mean, I've dated peo=ple before!

VC: What have you all been doing, I've had a matesprit and a moirail and I spent six sweeps of my life almost entirely isolated

ID: man look at pheres so much more baffled by cc. it's almost like they don't think i'm a good catch.

CC: It just never really wo=rked o=ut?

ID: =:'( =:'( =:'(

SA: VC Show us the way.

IA: Perhaps it just never has happened?

VC: hah

VC: They did not worrk out

IA: I haven't held a quadrant in sweeps.

VC: Though both did last for sweeps

VC: So they werrre good rrrelationships

VC: But unforrtunately even good things end

ID: ...this better not be a joke where your quads were actually your fronds all along.

IA: It's n-ot a particularly bad thing if -one d-oes n-ot have a quadrant.

VC: Wow, and I thought nobody could be morrre tasteless than Laledy

VC: Good job

SA: your life is neither jeopardized or enriched by not having one, as a child.

VC: You outdid him

RS: | Haha | Oh | Dear |

ID: what, you've never heard a quad-frond joke vc.

ID: or seen the memes.

RS: | Please Do Not Show These Memes |

SA: "the real quads were the friends we made a long the way"

CC: Pheres, I'm pretty sure that saying that's ho=w yo=u get peo=ple to sho=w them.

ID: oh please pheres it's just a picture of a hand with a caption that they just broke up with their mate usually.

CC: ／(=´x`=)＼

ID: followed by a picture of the opposite frond saying their black relationship is still healthy as ever.

VC: Lorrd

RS: | Good Heavens |

IA: S-o, why were we sharing relati-onship advice?

ID: pheres still hasn't really.

RS: | Oh | Hmph | RS: | Fine | My Relationship Advice | is | RS: | | Um |

RS: | Hm |

IT: Have MANY of little ConsequenCe?

RS: | | A Little Less Talking | goes a Long Way | ? | Haha |

VC: oh no

RS: | That | and Having a Great Many of Little Consequence |

VC: You don't get to give relationship advice at all, Orrrpheo

ID: WOW YOUR ADVICE SUCKS.

IA: That's c-onfusing advice.

VC: though I'm not sure you could do worrse than Pherres

VC: I'm disappointed, Pherrres

ID: even i know that the key to a good relationship is communication.

IT: I was not! I was refering to Dysseu's relationships!

RS: | Haha | RS: | Excuse Me | ? |

IT: I have not HAD a serendipitous relationship, VC >:O

IA: --Oh dear

RS: | I haven't Had a Great Deal | I have Had Two Moirails | And One Matesprit | and Two Pitch Suitors | RS: | That is the Opposite of a Great Deal |

RS: | So | Please Do not Cast False Aspersions |

IT: I wouldst ne'er Cast Fals Aspersions

IT: Thou knowst this

VC: Wow, I am so shocked by this inforrmation, Orrrpheo

RS: | Also | My Advice is Perfectly Fine | Hadean | RS: | There is No Point in Talking Too Much | And Over-Complicating Things | RS: | As Sir Orpheo Enjoys Doing |

VC: Shocked and rrelieved

ID: woowww pheres. woowwww.

IT: Thou dost seem familiar, VC

ID: you think not talking to your moirails a lot is good?

IT: I assure thee, I meant no harm to thy quadrantmate or thyself

VC: What, me? Neverr - what

IA: I'm afraid I agree with ID -on this.

RS: | Talking to Them Too Much is an Entirely Separate Problem |

IA: Talking t-o y-our quads and feeling c-omf-ortable talking t-o them is imp-ortant.

ID: hahah woowww.

RS: | I did Not Say | You should Avoid Speaking to Them Entirely | RS: | Refuse to Ever Lay Your Eyes Upon Them | RS: | There is Just Something to be Said | For Avoiding Co-Dependence | With Your Quadrants |

RS: | That is All | =:| |

ID: uh-uh. =:/

IA: I d- n-ot think it's a particularly bad thing, if the tw-o inv-olved are receptive en-ough t-o -one an-other and it d-oes n-ot upset -one -of them.

RS: | Oh | Make Your Line-Faces | Hadean | RS: | You'll see What I Mean When You Get One | =:) |

IA: Alth-ough I d-o fully rec-ognize that I d-on't have much experience. I've -only ever had -one m-oirail.

ID: ohh i could throw some harsh shade right now.

ID: but i'm nice! so i won't!

IT: Prithee, do so!

RS: | Yes | Please |

VC: go forrr it

RS: | I am Sure We are All Riveted to Hear Your Fascinating Insights | RS: | on Quadrants that You have Never Had |

ID: you sure about that pheres.

RS| =:P |

VC: I'm surre I'll be enterrtained

ID: i mean. you had two moirails.

IT: Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh

ID: haaaddd.

IT: 😮 😮 😮

IA: --Oh dear

RS: | Haha | RS: | Yes | And One is Deceased | And | Well | RS: | Sipara is Sipara |

RS: | I am Afraid You will Have to Try Harder than That |

RS: | If You Want to Give Shade | =:B |

ID: i mean how do you lose sip?

ID: she seems the type to put up with a lot of shit!

IT: I also feel out of synC! Thou and Sipara have separated? Didst ask a surgeon to do the deed?

ID: i guess by not talking to her because you fear getting close to her.

RS: | Heavens | You Know Her So Well | Hadean | Clearly |

IA: IT, I d-on't believe they mean medically seperated, but have br-oken up as quadrant mates.

RS: | | Hahaha | RS: | Yes | I Meant That | =:B |

RS: | We have been Separated Since Her Delightful Little Romp with Muireach | RS: | So | Ah | A Perigee or Three |

IT: Nay, I didst mean it as a joke as well! But ahhh, hm.

ID: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i think deflecting blame on to anyone but yourself is an issue everyone has with you so i won't take it personally pheres.

VC: Oh my

VC: Quite the statement to thrrrow arround, Hadean

VC: What's yourr rrebuttal, Pherres

ID: aww man i probably super upset him. it's just words!

RS: / as always / I am a bit busy / dealing with / oh / Work / ? / RS: / But my rebuttal is / LOL / RS: / Go bicker with Cennef / Hadean /

RS: / instead of repeating Lucina's tripe / =:) /

ID: someone who knows him confirm if his changed quirk means he's upset.

VC: Well, you heard the man, he said LOL

VC: The greatest trump of all

RS: / why in the world / would it mean I'm upset / ? / RS: / That is silly / Haha /

RS: / and / yes / precisely / =:P /

ID: you're still quirking weird so. =:/ so i feel like. upset.

ID: you do know it's okay to tell someone to, y'know. back off and shit.

VC: ...in all serriousness I concurr with Hadean

RS: / oh / heavens / does changing my quirk for convenience bother you that much / ? / RS: | Here | Then |

ID: most trolls don't just up and change their quirks! it makes the rest of us. uh.

ID: uneasy.

RS: | Well | Heaven Forbid that You Feel Uneasy | RS: | We can't Have That |

VC: How _darre_ you do such a thing, Pherres

VC: Inconsiderrate

VC: How could you inflict this sufferrring on a poorrr unforrtunate trroll.

ID: ugh. =:/ i'm sorry if i got too harsh on you.

RS: | No | That's Fine | That is Merely Your Personality | RS: | Perhaps You should Apologise for Your Insistence on Prying into My Romantic Life | Instead | ? | RS: | Or | Mm | Explain | ? | =:\ |

ID: first off the shit with emerel was kinda. trying to figure out if there was a way to get him to stop without telling him flat out to stop?

ID: because with usual trolls flinging another quad in to things will end shit right down.

RS has attached ACTUALLYWORKING.PNG to the chat! RS: / mm / might I remind you that you and Lucina contacted Emerel /- PRIOR -/ to any of your ill advised shenanigans with him / ? /

RS: / the picture is to save comments on my supposed state of upset / just so you know / =:1 /

ID: oh well that was because you called me a liar.

RS: / oh / heavens / because you are a paragon of honesty / and your honour felt besmirched / ? /

ID: damn straight.

ID: also why are you working when the world is gonna end.

RS: | =:1 |

ID: well pheres, tell me when i have lied! if i am such a liar.

RS: | We're not going to Die to An Asteroid | That would be Silly | RS: / And / Mm / I don't Think I Need To /

RS: / especially / Since You just Did / =:1 /

ID: uh-huh, we'll see when we're all dead.

ID: i did?

LL: Dude, speak for YOURSELF. If that thing gets any CLOSER, I'm BOOKING it.

LL: Fuck THIS joint, I got other places I can be.

ID: well now you have to take us all with you ll!

LL: SORRY, dude, there's only ONE ID I'm dragging up with me, and it's not YOU.

LL: Find your OWN ride! Mine's all FULL.

RS: / yes / ! / RS: / and / well / make sure you stop by before you flee for your life / LL / ! / you wouldn't want to miss the fair /

ID: aww fuck it. guess we all have to die sometime.

ID: when did i lie?

LL: Of COURSE! LL: Faire first, THEN abandoning the planet.

LL: I promised you a SWORD, didn't I? >:D

RS: | Haha | Finally | She Made a Selection and I am Free to Type Properly | RS: | It Took Her Long Enough |

RS: | And You Did | ! | =:B |

ID: still wanna know where i lied. =:I

RS: | You are Awfully Het Up about That | Aren't You | ? |

ID: can't just call a troll a liar without proof!

LL: PRETTY sure he was talking about the end of the world thing, dude.

RS: | Absolutely |

ID: uh-huh. =:/