#and oz and tangled are listening intently

[0vergrowngraveyard]

a skulk of little guys

———

villain tails belong to me

tangled tails belongs to @passionartx

wizard of oz tails belongs to @whotfletamothhyperfx

bendy tails belongs to @myymi

nightmare tails belongs to @brainworms-all-night-long

butterfly boy belongs to @nixoon-again

[angeldcgs]

if it hadn't been for the alcohol lowering her inhibitions, frankie would've never even spoken to oz, let alone come home with him, and any sort of sexual contact would've been completely out of the question. not because she wouldn't have wanted to, but simply because she would've been too scared of making a fool of herself. whether or not she was acting embarrassing, she was too preoccupied with how much she was enjoying herself to worry. after spending so long being painfully aware of how she was perceived by others, going to great lengths just to fit in and not draw any unnecessary attention to herself, it felt good to just listen to her body and be guided by pleasure rather than logic. she really hadn't thought this far ahead, she had no sort of game plan or expectations for where the night would lead, and perhaps that aided in her ability to live in the moment rather than be bogged down by a specific set of guidelines. even as she'd become aware of what she was doing, her brain finally catching up with the tentative movement of her hips, she still didn't want to stop. though she didn't know if she was ready to be touched more intimately or to touch him in return, there was a certain safety that came along with the simple act of dry humping that frankie quickly became swept up in. it was a way to get closer to him without taking any clothes off, a way to get off without feeling too vulnerable, though that wasn't exactly her intent. for the most part, frankie just wanted to explore, to test her boundaries and try new things while she was still brave enough to experiment, but it was very likely that that would be the outcome, what with how quickly she was able to work herself up just from a few brief rolls of her hips down against him, each one teasing out another soft sound of satisfaction. with his encouragement, her movements became more deliberate, shifting back before pressing her pelvis forward and down against him in one fluid motion as she began to build up a slow but consistent rhythm. one hand raised from his shoulder to again tangle in the curls at the back of his head, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, feeling a new, even stronger spark of arousal shoot through her core as he praised her, causing her hips to stutter in the midst of their bucking. before she could thank him or pass on a compliment of her own, his kisses had traveled from up the side of her throat to meet her lips, swallowing up her words as they lay on the tip of her tongue. the movement of her mouth was sloppy and unfocused, hungrily parting her lips to deepen the kiss as if she wished to swallow him whole, the speed of her grinding amping up to match the frantic hunger of her kisses, her moans muffled and needy. even as she felt her panties sticking to her from just how wet she'd gotten, she didn't pause for a second, likely threatening to soak through and leave a mark on his jeans. it was all so overwhelming, but she'd never been more turned on in her life, and her voice was dripping in pure desperation as she whined his name against his mouth, the single syllable a quivering, barely audible sound wave.

even with his every intention to be a respectful gentleman that night, frankie was making it harder with each passing moment for oz to hold firm to that decision. it was clear she wanted him in ways she wasn't used to, made bold by the alcohol and freedom he'd afforded and he couldn't deny that he too found himself strangely exhilarated. she was by no means the first girl he'd brought home, not by a long shot but she was the first in a long while who had sparked a genuine interest within him. she was strange in an otherworldly kind of way, like alice before she took a nosedive into wonderland, so innocent and curious about the parts of life she had yet to explore that he couldn't help but feel tempted to be her guiding hand. she wasn't totally clueless, the way she pulled at his hair had oz almost moaning against her mouth, though he bit back the pathetic noise to keep up his composed act. besides, frankie was making so many pretty noises of her own, the last thing he wanted was to muffle them in any way. once on his lap, oz was eager to get her as close as possible, only pausing when she moved away first, likely due to the realisation that she was pressing against him in a much more exposed way than she maybe intended. he could feel the warmth of her cunt through the denim of his jeans and despite his attempt to be careful not to overstep, it was hard to think about anything else he could possibly do at that moment that could distract him from the sensation of her curiously grinding down against him. he couldn't bear to stop her and ask whether or not she was sure about where things were going, not when she looked so blissful, too caught up in the weight of her lust to really consider whether she was truly certain about what she was doing. all he could do was watch her with that drunken expression, lids heavy and mouth parted in hunger at her lithe form on top of him. he wanted to be good but goodness could only get a man so far and he didn't want to deny frankie of anything, it was easy to assume that the night would come to mean a lot more to her than it did to him so he was inclined to follow along with her wishes, keeping her satisfied at all costs- not that it would take much at all. "keep going." oz encouraged softly and tightened his hold of her hips, not by a great deal but enough so he could help guide her movements if they grew sloppy. he leaned up and buried his nose into the crook of his neck, where he then let out a soft, almost pained sigh. "christ. you are so pretty." his words came murmured against her throat, followed by a kiss or two as he slowly worked his way back up to her mouth, already awaiting his against it.

[lanasaved]

gibson 1959 | self

 “I think that’s everything, chicken. Yeah? You got everything, Caleb?”

Eyes dim on a patch of grey linoleum, it took a gentle tug of the larger hand Lana had clasped in hers for her brother to dawn back to reality.

“Hm? Oh... Yeah. Yeah, think so.”

Down by his side, a clear plastic rubbish bag dangled limp from a loose fist, contents occasionally rustling whenever he so much as cleared his throat.

“He does,” Lana interjected, face soaked in the kind of sunshine bright optimism you’d expect from a Labrador puppy anticipating its lunch bowl. “I checked and, like… folded everything, so. Yeah! We’re good. He’s good.”

She wouldn’t have been able to hide the pride in that statement if she’d been trying to, eyes skimming his features with her dimples so pronounced, you could have stashed an entire football trophy cabinet in them. 

“Yeah,” he repeated, gaze flitting over after a pregnant pause to find the nurse’s, regurgitating her polite smile in the seamless way he’d learned he had to. “I’m good.”

He’d been in the hospital for a grand total of two hundred and eighty four days, six hours and twelve minutes.

It seemed like years since she’d seen him outdoors, at all -- he’d been offered trips outside of the facility, if he wanted to, but he’d always declined under the grounds that he wasn’t ready yet. 

It was strange, unlocking their front door after an Uber ride home in which she blabbered endlessly and he merely nodded and listened, occasionally resisting a smile when she got her tongue tied and mispronounced something because she was too excited to talk any slower than supersonic.

She felt kind of like a child that had smuggled a candy bar off the corner shop counter, fingers continuously sifting the crinkles of wrapper inside her pocket just to check that she’d actually had the guts, that she hadn’t just dreamt it. 

“Welcome back to the lurv shack, bay-bee,” Lana enunciated with a lame kick of one leg in halfhearted cancan, forgetting to finish the routine and turning back, instead, to make sure he’d made it through the door okay.

After such an extended period of bed rest -- due to many contributing factors, he’d had to have restraints that sporadically forced him to be mattress bound for days and nights at a time -- his joints were somewhat stiff. He’d joked in monotone on the front steps that he was the Wizard of Oz’s Tin Man in dire need of oiling, and while Lana had returned his small smile, she’d also made sure to squeeze his hand as a wordless encouragement.

“Come on, Ol’ McCreaky.” Flashing him a grin, it was with a lone nod down the corridor that she started shrugging off one sleeve of her faux fur jacket, black and white star print slipping another three inches to reveal a narrow shoulder. Even then, schlepping down the hall with her hair in a barely combed tangle around her cheeks, she looked like a burlesque girl intent on providing a show, framed photos on the walls practically blushing over every glimpse of skin they managed to reflect back.

“I got those dinosaur shaped pancakes you say you hate. So juvenile, those pancakes!” she impersonated, laughter bubbling up from her throat like caramel brought to boil. Twisting around so she could face him as she walked backwards, she quickly reviewed the shuffle of his feet as she continued speaking, monitoring for any lulls in pace. “Honestly, you’re such a fake. I saw you gobble a pterodactyl off my plate, once, when you thought I was peeing. Jokes on you, hombre! She’s a urine scammer. I didn’t even have to go, I totally just spied on you from the banister.”

“That’s a lie.”

Grin only doubling, she started prancing from foot to foot like an evil little hobgoblin delighting in a wicked scheme, red cowboy boots echoing a wild patter around the walls. 

Lips tweaking in a lame attempt to match hers, he rolled his eyes as he continued to follow her towards the kitchen. “Alright, stop that.”

Regardless, she continued, drenched with so much giddy energy that she felt like a jack-in-the-box wound one time too many, rocking around its mechanism in a dangerous frenzy that threatened to break the spring.

“Fucking hell,” he exhaled, unable to help but let out a short laugh, for once. She wasn’t half ridiculous. “I hate this, Lana. That looks horrible.”

Finally ceasing, it was with a breathless swipe at her skirt to right the fluttering pleats that she spun back to yank at the next door handle, jacket still dangling off just one shoulder since she’d forgotten to finish removing it.

“That was my Niall Horan on bath salts impression, actually. If you knew your Irish jigs, that would’ve been obvious. Point deducted, yer wee cunty!”

She felt like she had a firefly jarred inside her chest for the entire duration of their back and forth banter, body of it bumping and glowing against the confines of her rib cage as she clattered into the kitchen.

In fact, she’d been so wrapped up in the fact that Caleb was finally home -- her Caleb, her entire world -- that she hadn’t even noticed the murmur of voices drifting in from the large conservatory, the room their parents reserved for dinner parties given the long table and the view overlooking the garden. 

It was only once she’d turned back from rustling within her shopping bag to produce a carton of eggs that she noticed how tense Caleb’s shoulders were, eyes stuck on something past the wall, staring further into the heart of the house -- if you could even call it that.

A heart implied life. Warmth. 

“They’re here.”

“Fucking hell, is that Caleb Jameson? Fuck me. Just take a look at him! There’s nothing of him!”

Screeching back from his chair to get to his feet once they’d entered the room, Jensen Peters lumbered sideways over the leg he’d somehow managed to position as an obstacle, clearly already drunk at a mere three in the afternoon.

Shirt unbuttoned to just above his belly button, chest hair rampant and just a lone middle finger flecked with black nail polish, he looked like a long lost rock oracle washed ashore on a desert island, eyes red rimmed from salt water and the terror of a stormy shipwreck.

He had a raven’s face, long and thin -- all beak and peck and black, somehow, despite his pale eyes and sandy hair to match.

Next to Caleb, Lana shrank like an under watered tulip, immediately fascinated by the panels of the hardwood.

“Hi. Teeth still unbrushed as ever, I see,” Caleb commented, eyes moving from the hand that Jensen extended to shake his to the face of his father. He made no effort to reach out and complete the greeting, ignoring him completely. “I’m home, Robert. Are you shitting yourself with excitement, yet? Or did you already wipe yourself down so you wouldn’t stink out the dinner table? Incontinence woes.”

Unimpressed, their father merely took a sip from his glass and exchanged an apologetic look with another member of company. 

Gnawing on her bottom lip, Lana held Caleb’s hand a fraction tighter as she shuffled slightly forwards to glance around the occupants of the table, shooting them all a brief smile. 

“Hi. Sorry, Caleb has a migraine. We were just, um... I mean, we’ll get out of your hair and stuff. Nice to see you all, though. Caleb? Should w--”

“Lana, Lana, Laaaaa-naaaa. Lana!” Enamel of his teeth blotted with plaque stains from chain smoking and gargling whiskey for breakfast in the place of Listerine, Jensen thrust his hands out in exclamation, acting as if he’d just been bestowed with a vision of Christ to inform him about his immaculate conception. “Look at you! A fuckin’... tiny thing. Could pick you up and put you in my pocket, couldn’t I?!”

Heart thumping inside her throat, she peeled back her lips to reveal her teeth, a take on a grin that looked more like an animal baring its fangs after it’d been backed against a wall.

 “C’mere,” he enthused, fingers waggling her in. “You gonna give me a fuckin’ hug, or what?”

“Um... Yeah, of course. Yeah, sorry,” she forced out after a stuttered delay, about to take a step forwards when Caleb yanked her back by the hand she’d forgotten she was still holding, startled yelp parting her lips.

“I don’t think she feels like it,” he interrupted, shoulders tense and eyes burning so intently into Jensen’s that it was as if he was willing them to sear black holes through the sockets. “Feel free to sit down and stop talking. Robert,” came as his chin flinched sideways, focus returning to their father as he sat wordlessly at the head of the table, observing the situation in the odd glance before he resumed his thumbing at his phone screen. “We’re gonna go. Just wanted to say hi.”

For as long as Lana could remember, Caleb had never referred to their father by name.

“Mhm?” He barely lifted his eyes from his phone.

Stomaching a scoff, Caleb shook his head and stared briefly at the floor by his shoes.

Lana could sense the frustration unfurling inside his stomach like a fighter’s fist, knuckles twitching every time Jensen dared to so much as look at her.

“Dad,” she started softly, gently letting go of Caleb’s hand so that she could take a step forwards and rest both on the back of a stately designed dining chair, easily priced within three figures to buy just one. “Caleb got discharged today, remember? I, um... I called you, about it. We spoke on the phone. Remember?”

Lie. She’d circled it thrice in red on the calendar, texted him seven times over the past month, and tried to ring eighteen only to be put through to voicemail. But it was better, this way, for Caleb to have a pitiful scrap of compassion for him to gnaw on to keep the starvation at bay, to think that their father had actually been invested at all in his recovery, enough to check in.

“Ah... Yeah,” came as he clicked his lock screen shut, lips a thin line that quivered into action like it took him a great exertion of effort to do so -- the smile he produced was condescendingly pitiful, easily the equivalent of a kindergarten doodle submitted to a university grade portfolio. “Yeah, of course.”

“Fuckin’ right! Yeah, yeah. Fresh out the loony bin, isn’t he? Fuck me,” Jensen got out with a snort, clapping a hand down onto Caleb’s shoulder after closing into his personal space once more. With it, he shook him gently, a carnival guest rapping at the bars of a tiger’s cage to incite a snarl. “Our own resident Girl, Interrupted. Forgot about the whole... slittarooski. Damn. Not quite got the tits for Jolie, though, do you? Then again,” he chided, voice lowering as he shot Caleb a wink, “neither do any of the Jameson’s.”

“That’s enough,” Robert nipped in the bud after his eyes drifted to observe the way Lana’s expression faltered, voice surprisingly apathetic given the derogatory observations of his own wife and daughter. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Jensen backed up and took a seat at the table once more, immediately tracking a thumb down one of the strings of his 1959 Gibson. Attention back on Caleb, it was as if, to Robert, Jensen had never said anything at all. “That’s great. Well done.”

Dull twangs reverberating whenever Jensen’s rings clacked against the neck of his Gibson, Lana could physically feel Caleb’s rage stilling the air around them, almost suffocated by the dead silence that came with standing in the heart of a hurricane.

“Yeah, um... Anyway, yeah,” she attempted to brush it off, apples of her cheeks so flushed that they almost looked darker than the mahogany tabletop her father propped his elbows against. “It is great. He did really good. And he’s basically, um... You know. Like, all better, now, kind of. So... yeah. Won’t keep you, or anything. Just wanted to... let you know -- that he’s home, I mean.”

“Yeah, great.” He barely cared enough to keep his eyes away from the table. “Cool stuff. I’ll call Stella, in a bit.” Their mother. “She’ll be happy to know.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she’ll take the time out of sunning topless in Monaco to take that call,” Jensen joked with his back turned, shoulders quivering slightly with the effort it took to subdue a laugh. “Fucking drag.” Still dusting down his strings with a soft, mottled cloth, he craned his neck slightly in order to throw a distracted question back over his shoulder, eyes straining to remain on his handiwork all the while. “Say, Lana? About this, uh... facility. You happen to volunteer there, at all? Get about in a little pinstripe thing, give any sponge baths to the rest of the cabbages?”

“Um...” trailed off as her eyes flit to watch Caleb, three casual steps seeing him moving to reach Jensen’s side. “No,” she admitted, hands clasped together like she was front row in a local church choir, fingers clutching one another until they glowed red from the amount of pressure. “No, nothing like that. I don’t think they do, um... a pinstripe, like, thing on--... Caleb, what’re you doing?”

Blinking up at Caleb as Lana’s question prompted him to, Jensen furrowed his eyebrows.

Above him, Caleb loomed like a pillar about to topple down any second and crush someone.

Unblinking, he simply stared. 

“Yeah, Caleb,” he began, delightfully curious at the fact he’d managed to rile enough life out of him at all. On his face, a shit eating grin began to creep into view as he echoed her same sentiment. “What’re you doing?”

It was only when Caleb reached down and wrenched the guitar from his hands that he lost his smugness.

“Wait,” Jensen quickly objected, but Caleb was already gripping the neck in both fists and marching towards the conservatory door, unlocked and looking out over the rest of the garden. “I said fucking-- Rob, stop him. Rob, fucking stop him, that’s my Gibson. That’s my fucking Gibson!”

“Caleb,” Robert warned, chair legs scraping as he rose to his feet, finally paying attention. “That’s enough.”

Racing after him with hands outstretched, Lana almost managed to trip and fall three times in the length it took to reach the patio Caleb had just strode across, chill of the air outside enough to coax goosebumps from her forearms.

“Yeah? Is it your fucking Gibson, is it? It’s your fucking Gibson?” Caleb shouted back, military issue boots clunking hard against power washed stone. “Not the fucking Gibson.”

“Caleb--”

“--Anything but the fucking Gibson, am I right? The Gibson!”

Wrenching the vintage model up and above his head, it was with a sky splitting yell from Jensen that Caleb smashed it down as forcefully as he could against the ground, wood immediately erupting into a catastrophic splinter.

Within another deafening whack, a dial pinged off and landed in the pool.

“Fuck, there goes the fucking Gibson, Jensen!” came heaved breathlessly from a tired chest, arms trembling as he did it again and again, over and over, buttons and strings scattering. In front of Lana, Robert gripped hard at Jensen’s arm in order to keep him from racing forwards and killing him, too wary of the potential newspaper headlines should he have to ring an ambulance. “Whatever will you do without the fucking Gibson, Jensen? Form an actual personality? Brush your fucking teeth with all the extra free time, maybe? Did you a fucking favour, you ugly fucking cunt.”

Tossing the last of the mess into the pool, Caleb wrenched his eyes to review Lana’s wide pair that were merely blinking back at him, completely stunned. 

All her life, she’d never dared to stand up to any of them. 

She’d only ever managed to cower with her tail between her legs in the face of those men with their oily palms and dirty fingernails, a kicked puppy still intent on nuzzling at your ankles, afterwards, to try and earn its favour back.

As much as Caleb hated him personally, she knew this was for her.

Guilt welled up in her chest like a helium balloon.

“Jesus,” Robert whispered, disbelief reducing his face to a blank and gaping slate. Hand up to clasp his forehead, he dropped the one checking Jensen as another of his associates tread forwards to take over the responsibility. “You’re a fucking... disgrace.”

“Yeah?” came out ragged, eyes wilder than a caged fox as Caleb stared down his father in the face, ignoring the blathering expletives that Jensen was still barking in the background like an Alsatian that just heard the house alarm. “Take a look at who you fucking keep around you, Robert. You’re the disgrace.” Tossing the last bit of jagged wood he held clutched in a trembling fist, it landed gracelessly by their father’s feet. “You’re the fucking disgrace.”

Silence settled like a wet blanket to smother the stove fire, pieces of guitar still bobbing about the pool’s surface like the shrapnel pieces Caleb had to have plucked out of his right leg after his abrupt discharge from duty, nerves salvageable enough that he was only left with a slight limp.

The association had something dark fluttering across his face, although Lana had already hurried forwards to take his hand, again, a panicked glance tossed back between Caleb and their father to assess the potential damage.

“Get out,” Robert breathed after a significant delay, barely able to look either of them in the face as his voice was reduced to a mere whisper.

“Both of you, get out,” he repeated, eyes complete devoid of warmth as they flit between the both of them. “I mean it.”

“But dad, he didn’t me--”

Holding up a hand to cut Lana off, he used the same one to point at her, jaw completely tense.

“Lana, get him the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

[aniimxses]

devctiion​:

@aniimxses:

"Hail, O Master of Drink and Merriment! Thou Prinzessin beseeches wisdom's boon of thee. What mine Auge der Verurteilung seeks dwells beyond the far reaches of everlasting darkness. Thine Wayward Squire hath vanished yonder ill-woven veils of fate where mere vassals dare not to roam."

"What mein fraulein means to say is: Have you seen her friend Bennett as of late, Master Diluc?"

Diluc almost seems more surprised by the fact that Oz interjected than anything Fischl had said. The intent slant to his eyebrows as he'd been listening raises slightly, before he lets out a soft scoff.

"Yes, thank you, I gathered as much," he replies dryly. Honestly, it's not like he needs big words chopped up into bite sized pieces to be understood. Turning to Fischl once more, he finally answers, "I've seen hide nor hair of him, but that unfortunate boy is always where he shouldn't be. You'll most likely find him the last place you really want to look..."

Which, equally unfortunately, makes this Diluc's problem now. He can't just let two teenagers run around this time of evening unattended, even if they are both official adventurers. A sigh escapes him.

"Let's check Wolvendom first. I've been meaning to clear out some pests today."

The Prinzessin strikes a pose, drawing a gloved hand over the patch that masks her all-seeing eye. “What ho! That this sommelier should offer courageous accompaniment hither thine Prinzessin to the blackest depths of the Wolfswald. Beware that thine wyrd does not weave its threads into such tangles as mein Wayward Squire.”

Oz speaks up then, having been previously preoccupied with preening his feathers, “What mein fraulein means to say is: she is grateful for your assistance on this matter.”

Fischl clears her throat, seeming to fight down the heat of embarrassment that suddenly makes itself known on her face. “Dost thou require preparation before our journey hitherto?”

[phyripo]

Ozsey 36?

36. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Thanks, anon! Here’s a bunch of people being terrible in some au I just thought up I hope you like it :’)

Oh, yeah - David is Oz, Angélique is Sey and Riley is Zea because they insisted on being there as well

send me a pairing and a number and I’ll write a fic!

She seems sort of boring, at first.

Well, not boring, but very decent, with her sensible hiking shoes and the small cross charmnecklace resting in the hollow of her throat. Her name is written in roundedletters on the nametag they’re all being made to wear – Angélique, with alittle sun drawn in the corner. (David tried to draw a crocodile in the cornerof his own, but it looks more like a blob than anything else.)

Still, the only reason that he notices heramong the other summer camp counsellors is that she’s very pretty, all tight black curls and smiling eyes and frecklesdotting her warm brown skin. She’s wearing a summery blue dress that’s quicklyexchanged for a yellow camp T-shirt tucked into denim shorts after everyone hasreceived their instructions.

They’re on the same team – which is to say,they have to supervise the same gaggle of overexcited kids, they themselves underthe supervision of Arthur (“call me Mr Kirkland”) and his ever-present clipboard.He seems surprised that David is back for another year, but only raises hiseyebrows, which are somehow even bigger than David’s own, and doesn’t sayanything about it. Their little group is completed by David’s friend Riley.That’s a first. For some reason, they were always split up before.

“Yeah, I pulled some strings,” Riley says inthat innocent way of theirs, before going to introduce themself to Angélique.(David swears one day Riley’s going to land himin jail and he’ll never even know what for.)

They meet ‘their’ kids, a dozen hyperactivethirteen-year-olds who are still convinced the summer camp is cool (it’llprobably be the last year of that) but not so much that they should actuallylisten to what their counsellors tell them. It all ends in a lot of shouting.David can practically feel himself going hoarse, but he also gains a lot of satisfactionfrom watching Arthur’s eyebrows crinkle ever more.

Poor man. He probably wishes he had a real job.

David accidentally catches Angélique’s eyewhile he’s busy suppressing laughter at the supervisor, and she bites her lipwhile grinning, gaze flicking to Arthur and back again. The man is turning vaguelyred now, and it doesn’t look like it’s the sun causing it – yet.

Ah, so she’s a little less decent than hethought, then. Good. He might need to get to know her a little better.

They have their first excursion right away onthe first full day of camp, taking the teens into the surrounding forest toplay some games that end with people being pushed into mud or hiding in trees(that last group including David) and Arthur covered in ants. Angélique can’tstop laughing even while she helps him bat them away.

David has to tell them that they can’t showertonight, and is understandably mobbed by mud-caked kids. (He didn’t even tellthem that he is allowed to wash.)

“You’ve got a little…” Angélique tells himwhen he joins the counsellors for dinner, as she gestures vaguely at her own face.

“Yeah, I’m moisturising,” David jokes,grimacing when he wipes his forehead and his fingers come away muddy. Angéliquelaughs and hands him a paper tissue.

Later, when they’re watching the celebratory we-survived-the-first-day-of-campcampfire burn out while Riley and Arthur herd the kids to their cabins, Davidtells her about some of the weirdest things that have happened in previousyears, including the time last year when he and Riley discovered that a very Romeo and Juliet-type romance had sprungup between two teenagers from their respective groups, and they decided toprotect them from the rest of the counsellors. (They all hated the two of themby the end. Maybe that’s why they’vebeen put together now, with the new recruit.)

“I think that’s why Arthur was so surprised I’mback this year,” he adds, grinning as Angélique laughs brightly. Her eyes aresparkling in the firelight, and they look very deep.

“Well, I’m glad you are,” she replies. Shebites her lip, absently grabs her necklace, and shakes her curls out of herface. “I think it’ll be fun, this week. And the kids seem to love you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual,” he assuresher. “Except on the kids’ parts. I hate those little arseholes.”

She laughs again, and David keeps grinninguntil he goes to bed and Riley thwackshim over the head with a pillow. Although Arthur eventually appears to tellthem to stop their ‘utterly childish’ pillow fight, he decides it’s been a muchbetter first day than he could have expected.

The second day is much the same, except that theyhave an outing to the sea, where Angélique demonstrates admirable surfing skilland also that she looks very good in a bikini top and boardies, and whereArthur Mr Kirkland does, in fact, get sunburnt, this much to everyone’shilarity. While he sits in the shade and grumbles, hiding his face behind hisclipboard, Riley, David and Angélique lead the kids in a chaotic game ofCapture the Flag that eventually devolves into Angélique’s and David’s groupsganging up on Riley’s, because (as always) Riley has come up with a strategythat’s far too serious and complicated and apparently includes booby traps on thebeach.

David is running from some children withAngélique when she trips over one such trap and sprawls on the sand, gettingtangled in ropes.

“Fucking shit,”she almost-shrieks, squirming. “Damn it!”

David’s brain practically screeches to a halt. Sheswears. And not entirely mildlyeither. That is about the opposite of what he expected from her – seemingly mild-mannered,most likely religious Angélique Verlaque.He stops running to look at her, all sandy curls and yellow fabric and waytoo much damn skin.

“You kiss your fucking mother with that mouth?”he asks, almost in awe.

“No,” she says, still struggling, “butsometimes I kiss yours.”

“What the h—”

The kids take him down, Riley looming over himlike a malevolent god as he falls to the sand.

Worth it.

Later, he and Riley form the rear of the groupas they walk back to the campsite. There’s still sand all over him, but Davidfeels fucking amazing.

“Riley,” he tells them, and takes theexasperated sigh he receives in answer as a sign to continue, “I’m in love.”

“Because she told you she kisses your mum?”

“Don’t you see, mate? She’s perfect. She’s the perfect woman.”

“Because she told you she kisses your—”

He throws his hands up. “No, because she can keep up with me, Riles. She doesn’tmind, you know…”

“Your terribleness?”

He takes a breath. Releases it. “Yeah, basically.”

Riley chuckles. They’ve been dealing with Davidlong enough themself to know what he means. David knows he’s a chaotic man, andprone to saying things he really hasn’t thought about (sometimes, justsometimes, he doesn’t like that about himself) but not a lot of people manage tostick around once they know that. Angélique, maybe, could. The signs are good.

“Excellent,” Riley says. “I’ll prepare a shoveltalk.”

“I’m honoured, mate.”

“For you,Dave. That poor girl.”

“I take offense to that.”

“You deserve it. Don’t worry, I have all thereasons why outlined in the speech I’ll give at your wedding.”

The kids have to prepare dinner for everyone,and it turns out surprisingly good (because Riley distracts Arthur so he can’t ‘help’and Angélique actually does help) soit’s another good evening. They leave them to a spirited game of truth or darewith some of the other counsellors keeping watch around nine in the evening,and David goes to take a much-needed shower.

When he exits the cubicle, not wearing a shirtand still fumbling with an uncooperative zipper, he catches Angélique’s eyes inthe mirror over the row of sinks. She’s brushing her teeth.

“Hey,” he says, stilling. She quirks hereyebrows, leans forward to rinse her mouth, and then turns to him.

“Hi.” She presses her lips together. “Ah,David, I wanted to say sorry about that thing I – that thing I said. About yourmum.”

He smiles, letting his zipper be. “Don’t worryabout it. I’m sure she’d be flattered.”

“Good to know.” Her dark eyes very quickly flitdown his chest, but she meets his gaze again after a second. “She isn’t single,is she?”

“Ha, no, she’s not, sorry to disappoint.” Heruns a hand through his damp hair, watching through his eyelashes as Angéliquetakes a deep breath and swallows.

“Too bad,” she says, leaning against the sinks,back arching. “Any other family members you can recommend for swearing at?”

Briefly, David thinks about his brother, whopretends to be scandalised every time someone uses a single swear word (but he’sheard him talk to his schoolmates) and his sister, who is not allowed to swear(but he’s heard her talk to herschoolmates and damn).

“Me, maybe,” he says. “If you’re not opposed to,y’know, swearing at men.” He doesn’t think she is, but she’s full of surprises,is Angélique. Well, he’s only known her three days, after all. Who knows whatother interesting things he can learn about her.

“I’m not picky.” She shrugs. Then, she laughs,arms crossing. Her necklace glints in the bright lights in the bathroom. “Youshould have seen your face, though!You’d think I was propositioning you, David!”

Then, suddenly, Riley’s voice from the otherside of the mirrors. “Can you two get a room? Jesus Christ.”

Angélique does flinch at that last one, justslightly. David resolves to stick to God-less swearing from now on. (Oh, fuck,he’s already in deep.)

“Thanks, Riles!” he calls. “They’repropositioning me for you, I think.”

“I absolutely am, and you better get a damnmove on, mate,” Riley replies. The bathroom door opens and closes, and Davidgrins down at Angélique, who is looking very intently at him. Her eyes haveflecks of green in them in this light.

“Problem?” he asks.

She just says, “Oh, fuck it,” and reaches forhim, wrapping a hand around his neck and resting the other against his chest. Hequickly shuts up altogether.

(His mum, David later reflects, is definitelymissing out with regards to being kissed by that mouth.)

(He’s very glad that the kids are determined torepay him for the Romeo and Juliet situation from last year, although he couldhave done without the extensive alarm system they set up to warn them everytime Arthur is approaching.)

(Also, Riley’s shovel talk is terrifying. Theirbest man speech at the wedding even more so.)

[pygmywyvern]

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Series: Overwatch Pairing: Boombox (Junkrat/Lúcio) Rating: Teen Words: 1981 Other notes: Wicked/Wizard of Oz AU. Something I wrote a while ago, never published and should just to post to stop it collecting dust. No beta reader on this, be afraid.  Trigger warnings: Death mention, grieving, hints at torture but no graphic mentions. If you know Wicked and know about Fiyero you can get the gist of what I mean

The storm the sky had threatened had begun furiously, droplets of rain flying down and splashing against the perfect stone paths of Utopaea. But the weather was of little concern to Lucio, the sorcerer's cloak pulled tight around him as he glided away as fast as he could. He had to keep moving. Couldn't stop. The Vishkar guard were only so far behind him. Stopping meant imprisonment. Or worse. Just the thought of worse had the fleeing man fighting back tears.

Jamie.

He couldn't keep up his running forever, Lucio had to get to safety, or Jamison's sacrifice would be for nothing. Tugging out one of the magical gems from his dreadlocks, the glowing crystal was swiftly crushed in his palm, the dust swirling around his form, transporting him far away. Back to his home. But there was no time for rest.

Lucio dove at his bookshelf, pulling out spell book after spell book, eyes frantic as he scanned the titles. It had to be there. He knew he still had it. Frustration strangled reason, hands glowing with magic as he clawed at the books. A thud beside him caught his attention, magic wild eyes snapping to the large tome that fell to the floor. There. That had to have the answer. It had to.

The book was slammed onto the desk, ingredients and rune jottings shoved aside in favour of flicking through the pages. Anything. Anything that could do something, anything to help his Jamie. His Jamie. Fingers traced over the words of protection, desperation already summoning the words to his lips as the fear clung to his thoughts, “Let his flesh not be torn, let his blood leave no stain. Though they beat him, let him feel no pain. Let his bones never break and however they try to destroy him, let him never die. Let-” A choked sob interrupted the incantation, but Lucio wouldn't be deterred. Over and over he repeated the spell, even as tears overflowed, spilling down his cheeks and onto the glowing paper below.

He didn't know how long he chanted, but slowly, the magic became a drain, and Lucio sunk to his knees, sobs escaping him freely as he cradled his head in his hands. Jamie was being punished, and it was all his fault.

It had happened in such a blur. True, they'd known that Vishkar had been on the lookout for the sorcerer that had been trying to show the corrupt monarchy for what they truly were, but the lovers were willing to take that risk. Jamie had insisted that Lucio meet with him, and who was the sorcerer to deny the foreign prince: they hadn't seen each other in weeks with the constant need to hide. But perhaps they had been too reckless, allowed people to recognise Lucio too easily with a lack of disguise. Guards had been upon them soon enough, and the pair had fled. At least, that had been Lucio's intention.

Jamie had shoved him ahead, before stopping himself. The sorcerer didn't even receive a chance to ask, to get the prince to follow him. “Run Lu! Get fucking going!” There wasn't even a look back from the blond, hand diving into his bag and retrieving a bright red firework, metal hand snapping to create a spark. He wasn't called The Prince of Fire for nothing.

Lights and explosions began to go off, and no matter how Lucio tried to get through, to get back to Jamie's side, the flames blazed too bright, the fires already trying to consume him. He bellowed his lover's name. Nothing.

Finally, an answer, and it was something Lucio wished he'd never heard. Jamison's scream of pain, followed by begging for Lucio to run, pleading for them not to hurt the sorcerer. He made to charge in – flames be damned – but was halted by the number of guards before him. Had they sent a whole platoon after them? Lucio was sure in his powers, but that many guards was beyond even him.

Finally, he heeded his prince's words. He ran.

Why? Why did Jamie have to suffer for him? Jamie had done nothing wrong: he'd (mostly) complied with the Vishkar word, had even began to court Vishkar's greatest sorceress despite the pair being friends more than anything. Lucio had known Vishkar was rotten in it's core, but he'd not thought they were bad enough to punish their ally, just for his association with the enemy.

The enemy.

Brown eyes hardened, even as the tears continued to flow, slowly rising to his feet once more. Now wasn't the time to cry. Not anymore. Because if Vishkar wanted an enemy, they were going to get one.

Months passed, and the grand city of Utopaea continued on with their facade of peace and normalcy. But those aware knew the truth: The Green Sorcerer caused and lead numerous attacks against the Vishkar. Never did a common citizen get hurt in the crossfire, but it was easy to see the growing frustration the guard felt at the magic user's continued disruptions. Some more irritated by his attacks wondered why they didn't just capture The Green Sorcerer from the old, crumbling castle he called his home, unaware of the magic protecting it, turning guards and those associating with Vishkar into harmless frogs. None could reach him except those who wished their oppressors harm, and that was how Lucio liked it.

His time was consumed mostly by his plans of attack against Vishkar, improving the magical fortifications and trying to finally improve the castle. Well, with his exile from his beloved city, it was about time he started making a new home for himself. He never wanted for much: his dear friend Hana visited frequently to bring him food from the capital and others who his spells allowed through often brought gifts of offering for his assistance with their Vishkar constructed plight.

But the after the sun set, it became quiet, lonely and cold.

The sleepless nights that often plagued Lucio found him flying out to sit upon the castle roof, watching the skies. Jamie would have loved the view, he was sure. Probably would have insisted on setting off some fireworks from the rooftop and cackling loudly, before a laughing Lucio would have to swiftly save his prince from falling off in his merriment. The thoughts sometimes gave the sorcerer some peace, but other times tears threatened to fall again, knowing such a moment could never happen.

Lucio was simply sitting quietly for once, cloak wrapped tightly around him as the night air blew lazily past him. As usual, everything was peaceful, the night still as he wished for his thoughts to quieten, for his body to become weary enough for slumber. But perhaps it was fate that he wasn't able to rest. The peace was being disturbed.

Standing carefully, The Green Sorcerer began to float, listening for the small sound he was sure he'd heard. Below, from the castle walls. A soft rustle and the scrape of metal against stone. Some kind of mechanical creature, he was sure. Perhaps a Vishkar construction. Once he disposed of it, he would have to readjust the wards around his castle to bar such contraptions.

He glided silently around, ready to flank the intruder to give him an advantage, but what he saw wasn't quite what he expected of Vishkar: their creations were sleek, perfected, glowed azure in the night. This creature was nothing like that. It was bedraggled looking. Some sort of scarecrow creature that glowed like fire against the stone. Still, such a creature had been approaching him in the dead of night, and Lucio didn't like the implication that held.

Floating behind the scarecrow that was finally climbing onto the roof and looking around in bewilderment, sparks of green danced in Lucio's eyes, ready to fight if necessary, “What do you want? Be quick 'cause I ain't got much patience.”

It seemed like more luck than judgement the scarecrow kept its footing on the roof, its peg leg surely not giving it the best stability upon the stone. How it had scaled the castle wall would have be a query Lucio would have pondered, if the sorcerer hadn't then noticed the glowing bracelets it wore. Enchanted, he presumed. The scarecrow turned to him, the burlap sack that made up its head unsettling the sorcerer a little, but he refused to allow that to show. Hands were held up though, a sign of surrender before the scarecrow spoke, “Hold yer fire Lucio! I know what yer thinking but I don't right fancy being a frog right now!”

The briefest hesitation at that voice. That accent. It sounded so much like... but he was dead. Green consumed his eyes as the gems in his hair glowed, a sight that others had found a terror, “You haven't answered my question.” Wisps of green magic began to collect in his hand as he advanced, a clear and obvious threat for the scarecrow.

There seemed to be more panic, before a seemingly flesh hand and its metal counterpart flew to the burlap sack, pointing and tugging, “I want ya to not turn me into anything unnatural- well I mean more unnatural than I am but I'm dealing with that, better than what I was gonna right be like- and I want yer help getting this off me! Please Lu!”

Lu.

No-one called him Lu. No-one but him.

Despite how impossible that potential could be, the hostile magic was dispelled, just by the futile hope that clung to Lucio's heart. He glided over, feet softly touching upon the roof in front of the lanky scarecrow, hands rising to the sack. The creature stopped tugging, leaning down so it was easier for the sorcerer to reach him. It wasn't attached in too complicated a manner: there was simply a set of strings tied around its neck holding it in place, but they were so tangled and tightly knotted, it was no wonder the scarecrow hadn't been unable to remove them without assistance. Nothing a little magic couldn't solve however, and soon enough the glowing green strings were easily unraveling themselves.

A moment of silence, before Lucio spoke quietly, “Take it off.”

Hands returned to the sack once more, and as the scarecrow began to remove it, Lucio could feel himself holding his breath. Slowly, pale skin was revealed with a sharp jawline, and wisps of blond hair caught the moonlight. Orange eyes glowed in the darkness, and despite their new, magical quality, Lucio knew those eyes anywhere.

“....Jamie?”

That familiar, crooked and silly grin was offered, eyes blazing even brighter in joy, “Sorry for keeping you waiting frogger.”

Hands flew to freckled cheeks, brown eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears, watching his returned lover so closely, “How? You were... I was sure... I was sure they'd killed you babe. I was sure...”

Arms wrapped around Lucio's body, glowing eyes turning warmer as his grin softened to a smile he only offered to the sorcerer, “Well, they fucking tried, ain't got a clue how I came out with everything the same but I weren't gonna get in a state over it. Not when I knew I could get out and get back here.”

Lucio remained silent for a while, eyes taking in Jamie's features. All twenty six of his freckles were right where he expected them, and that scar on his collarbone was as familiar to him as his voice. It was really him. His prince was here. His thumbs gently stroked across pointy cheekbones, and finally, a choked sob escaped him, “Jamie....I lost you...”

As tears continued to flow down the sorcerer's cheeks, the prince pressed one of his rare soft kisses against his forehead, letting Lucio cry, “I'm right here Lu, and I ain't going nowhere.”

[hookedonapirate]

Wild at Heart (Chapter 3/?)

Read: Prologue Ch 1 Ch 2

Graphic Art credit to the lovely and wonderful @jell-obeans Thank you so much!

Summary: Born and raised by rich parents, Emma Nolan has always done what’s expected of her, from what clothes to wear to what school to attend, what career to pursue and even who to marry. After graduating from Harvard and going back home to Storybrooke, South Carolina, she agrees to marry Oz Walsh by the wishes of her parents. With a year of engagement behind her, she goes to Boston for business and has to fly back home to get to her wedding. What happens when she has a run-in at the airport with a dashing, blue-eyed thief who is apparently bound and determined to throw a wrench in all of her plans? Will she make it back to Storybrooke on time for her wedding or will she find her home along the way?

A/N: I know some of you are waiting for an update for Tangle Up In Blue, but not to worry, it will be up next, hopefully soon. Thanks for your patience!

Rating: M

AO3 FFN

The rain died down as Emma walked back to the hotel to retrieve her things while Killian went to get his car. She grabbed her suitcase and carry-on bag, letting Graham carry them down the elevator for her. “Everything all right, Emma?” he asked, his words laced with concern.

Emma flashed him a smile and nodded. “Everything's perfect. I just got offered a ride home,” she explained shortly. “So I won't be needing the room after all.”

“That's good to hear. Although, I'm sad to see you go again,” he assured her as they reached the elevator and stepped inside. He pressed the button for the first floor and set the suitcase at his side as the doors slid shut. He kept looking at her, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as the elevator descended, but Emma didn't pay much attention. She just stared off into space, dreading the trip back home as the classical music enveloped her ears. The hotel used to play the most God awful tunes until Emma lodged a complaint about it. Now, it was more to her liking and listening to it didn't make her want to gouge her eyeballs out.

Graham and Emma were both silent when they reached the desired floor and the door opened with a ding.

“Well, don't be shy. I hope you will consider the Crown Plaza anytime you visit Boston.” The Irishman finally managed, winking at her after they emerged from the elevator. He spoke formally because he was required to, but at the same time she knew he was sincere.

“Thank you,” she said graciously as they made their way to the front desk where he checked her out of the room. He then grabbed her luggage and escorted her out of the hotel himself.

She was used to the attention she received from the opposite sex. They always went out of their way to please her. Sometimes she couldn't understand why, she only accepted it. Females, on the other hand always hated her for whatever reason - whether they were jealous or just didn't care for Emma's personality - she didn't really know. But maybe she was a bit stiff and closed off sometimes - okay, probably most of the time.

”Do you have a ride Emma?” he asked, a bit confused when there wasn't a cab outside waiting for her.

“Yeah, my driver will be here soon,” she assured him.

“Oh,” he uttered, as though he were appalled by that idea. “Would you like me to wait with you?”

“No, that's okay. I'll be fine.” She leaned in to kiss Graham's cheek, trying to disguise the nervous pit in her stomach as she heard the man's breath hitch. When she pulled away, he touched his cheek, a dazed look in eyes as a smile took over his face. Normally Emma would return it with a flirtatious smile - she loved the attention - but right now she could only offer a half-hearted grin.

“Alright, have a safe trip, Emma.”

“Thanks, Graham.” Emma cringed as he set her bags down and disappeared inside the hotel. She highly doubted the trip would be safe, considering who her driver was, and it certainly would not be enjoyable.

Emma waited by the curb, her arms crossed as she tapped her foot impatiently and checked her watch. When she and Killian had separated, he said he would give her fifteen minutes. It had now been twenty.

Finally, she saw him pull up to the curb and her jaw dropped, seeing the vehicle he was driving. 

She stepped forward and opened the passenger door, bending down to catch his gaze. “I am not driving in this piece of shit,” she stated firmly. “We’ll rent a car. I'll pay for it.”

Killian put out his hands in protest. “Whoa whoa whoa, don't be dissing my ride. We’re driving her whether you want to or not. We play by my rules,” he argued through gritted teeth from his seat. “Now get your boney arse in the car before I decide to change my mind and drop your diary in the mail.”

She sighed wearily. “Fine, but don't whine to me when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.”

“Believe me, I won't.”

Letting out another exasperated sigh, she got in the car and slammed the door shut. Killian eyed her in confusion. “Your bags?”

“What, you're not going to be a gentleman and get them for me?” she asked, irritated.

Killian laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry, love. For your information, I am always a gentleman, but just so we’re perfectly clear, I am certainly not one of your lapdogs. There's a difference between being a gentleman and being whipped. You may have other men wrapped around your dainty little finger, but I'm not one of them.”

“Ugggh…. fine!” She huffed in frustration and got out of the car, picking up her luggage and going around to the trunk. She waited impatiently for him to open it but when he didn't, she walked up to his door and pounded her fist on the window. He rolled it down with a mocking grin.

“Yes, princess?”

She put up her arms. “Hello? Open the trunk you asshole!”

Killian raised his left hand to his ear. “I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you through your rudeness and name calling. Maybe you should try asking nicely.” He started rolling the window back up, but she put her fingers on the edge of it, attempting to stop it.

“Will you please open the fucking trunk, oh so kind sir?” she muttered sarcastically as he stopped the window from shutting. She was about two seconds away from punching him in the face to wipe off the smug grin he was giving her.

“Princess has a foul mouth,” he said, shaking his head. “I normally would enjoy such dirty talk but right now I'm going to need you try that again. This time, pretend to sound as though you mean it.”

Emma gritted her teeth, speaking in the most sincere tone she could muster. “Could you please open the trunk so we can be on our way and you can get your precious money.” She topped it off by flashing him a sweet smile.

“That's more like it.” He pressed a button from where he sat, popping the trunk open for her.

“Thank you,” she flashed him a fake smirk and marched back over to the trunk. Using all of her strength, she lifted the suitcase and threw it in, along with her carry-on. She didn't realize until then just how heavy her suitcase was. After shutting the trunk, she got in the car and buckled her seatbelt.

He pulled away from the hotel and got on the road, driving until he reached a bridge over the river. She eyed him cautiously as he pulled off to the side of the road. “Why did you stop here? You're not planning on murdering me and throwing my body in the river are you? My Mom's a damn good lawyer and my Father was the best cop on the force before he became the mayor. I wouldn't mess with them like that if I were you.”

Killian rolled his eyes and handed her a prepaid phone. “The idea is tempting, but you're worth more to me alive, as odd as that sounds. Now I need you to call your parents and tell them what we discussed, and only that. Got it?”

She scolded him, snatching the phone. She had to get rid of the one she had for fear of Walsh or her parents using it to track her down. And she was so torn up knowing that Walsh couldn't constantly call and text her - okay maybe not so much. “Yes, I got it.” As Emma dialed her parents’ number, she couldn't believe she was actually going through with this. She's lied to her parents before. She's snuck out in the middle of the night when she wasn't supposed to, she's agreed to do things for the sake of appeasing her parents, even when she didn't really want to do them. She's lied to Walsh obviously - basically their entire relationship was a lie. But making them believe she was kidnapped so this dirty thief could steal her parents money was wrong on so many levels. The thought of deceiving and making her parents even more worried than they already were made her heart constrict.

Listening to the rings as she waited for someone to answer, the sound seemed deafening to her ears even though the volume was not very high.

“The Nolan residence.”

Emma swallowed thickly, hearing the housekeeper on the other end. It was a familiar voice and put her at ease a bit. Dortha had worked for the Nolans since Emma was old enough to remember her. She took care of Emma whenever her parents weren't home and treated her like a friend rather than a child, which Emma had always appreciated.

“Hi, Dortha.”

“Oh hi Miss Emma, I'm sorry. I didn't recognize the number.”

“It's okay, I'm on a prepaid phone. I just need to talk to my parents.”

“Of course. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything's fine,” Emma replied softly. “I just have to let them know I'm on my way home.”

“Oh that's wonderful. They'll be so happy to hear. Your mother isn't here at the moment but let me get your father.”

“Thanks, Dortha.” Emma waited for what seemed like forever until she heard the sound of her father's voice and a small smile pulled at her lips.

“Princess?”

“Daddy…”

“Did you find a way back to us, baby? Your mother and I have been worried sick.”

“Actually…” Emma's voice became shaky as she glanced over at Killian, who was staring at her intently. “Daddy… I’m being held for ransom…”

She heard nothing but silence on the other end.

“Father?”

Finally, she heard him clearing his throat before speaking. “Are you…?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. My captor is taking me back home… but he's asking for five hundred thousand dollars for a safe return,” Emma explained, remembering her conversation with Killian in the alley about what he wanted her to say.

“Did he… did he hurt you?” Her father asked nervously, not even concerned about the money. “I swear to God I'll kill him if he lays a hand on you.”

“No… I'm fine, I promise,” she breathed out, briefly closing her eyes. She hated lying to him. She hated making him worried.

She heard her father breathe a deep sigh in relief. “Thank God. Can I speak with him please?”

“Yeah.” She handed the phone to Killian. “He wants to speak with you.”

Killian took it, changing it to speakerphone before he spoke in a deep tone. “Your daughter will be returned safely, I assure you. As long as you all cooperate, there will be no problems. I expect five hundred thousand dollars in unmarked bills and when your daughter and I reach South Carolina, Emma will call to inform you of further instructions and where to drop the money off. If I suspect that any cops are involved, you will not see your daughter ever again got it?” Killian asked, his voice unwavering.

Emma let out a small gasp at the thought.

“I understand,” she heard her father say, his voice completely wrecked with worry. “You'll get your money. Just bring her home safely, you hear me. If you so much as harm one hair on my daughter's head, you will not live long enough to spend any of the it.”

“Easy Mr. Mayor, there's no need for threats. I assure you your daughter is in good hands.” Killian turned his head and flashed her an inappropriate smirk. She responded with a disapproving eye roll before turning her head to look out the passenger window. She just couldn't wait to get this over with and get back home.

Killian gave the phone back to her, urging her to end the call. “I love you, daddy. Tell mom I love her too.”

“Okay, love you too, sweetie. Get home safely.”

“I will, promise.” Emma said goodbye to her father before ending the call, tears threatening her eyes. It pained her knowing that her parents would would be worried sick not knowing if she was alright or not.

“What, you mean Walsh doesn't get an ‘I love you’ message too?” Killian teased, undoing his seatbelt as she glared at him, ignoring what he asked her.

“Was that really necessary, telling him he’ll never see me again if there are cops involved?”

He shrugged. “I needed it to be believable.” Opening the door, he stepped out of the vehicle, tossing the phone over the bridge and into the river. He came back and took his seat again. “Ready to go, love?”

“Don't call me that. I am not your love,” she muttered spitefully.

“Do you prefer princess?”

“Do you prefer me shoving my six inch heel up your ass?”

He threw her a dirty smirk as though he weren't opposed to the idea. “How did you know I was into that?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Emma sighed and crossed her arms over her chest as she sank back in her chair. “I figured you were a freak like that. In fact I'm surprised you're not handcuffing me to the door handle.”

“I do like it kinky, but as much as I love the idea of you in handcuffs, that would make this an actual kidnapping. And I'm not trying to keep you against your will. You're free to go at anytime. Unless being in handcuffs is your thing?” he asked suggestively.

She ignored the last part he said. “If I do leave, you’ll just mail my diary to my fiancé and ruin my life, that's all. You do realize it's still considered kidnapping, right? This is no different than some creep who lures little children into his van by baiting them with sweets or teddy bears.”

“You're right about that; kids don't know any better, and neither do you,” he said sarcastically. “Except they're innocent and you most certainly are not. Although you're also right about the diary but whether it would ruin your life is debatable. But that's entirely up to you, princess.”

“Just drive,” she demanded curtly. “And don't call me princess or I'll deliver that promise about driving my heal up your ass. I doubt it would feel good but that's entirely up to you,” she said sharply, flashing him a sarcastic smirk.

“Ooh, you're a tough lass,” he chuckled, waving his finger at her. “I like it.” He reached behind him, grabbing something from the backseat and handing it to her. It was a paper bag from the sushi place she was going to eat at before being rudely interrupted.

“What's this?” she asked, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“It's called food, love. I figured I owed it to you since I stole you away from your dinner.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You expect me to eat in the car like some slob? I don't think so.”

“Then don't eat. It makes no difference to me,” he said taking the bag from her. “But we’re only stopping for gas and sleep, that's it.”

“Fine, I'll eat it.” Emma sighed and took it back, their fingers brushing against one another, making her breath hitch. She quickly pulled her hand away, taking the bag with her and looking inside of it. She had to hide the smile threatening her lips, seeing the assortment of her favorite kinds of fish in the to-go container. Mackerel and Salmon and Tuna along with some California Rolls. She grabbed the chopsticks and opened the container.

Once she sampled the Salmon, closing her eyes and savoring the texture and taste in her mouth before swallowing, she had never been so happy to eat sushi, even though she didn't like to eat in front of people. She was raised to believe that type of dining etiquette was rude. It was even more awkward with Killian staring at her while she ate and licked her lips. “Sorry,” she apologized, offering him the tray. “Would you like one?”

Killian chuckled, shaking his head.

“What? It's impolite to eat in front of people who aren't also eating.”

“Ah, so you do have manners.”

“Of course I do. I grew up in a wealthy household where anything else was not tolerated. Whether I choose to use them on you or not is a completely different story.”

“Well, for your information, I already ate. I just find it quite exhilarating watching you enjoy sushi,” he said, throwing her a sultry smirk. “I like a lass who knows how to eat fish.”

Emma's breath caught in her throat. She rolled her eyes, unable to decide whether that was really creepy or oddly arousing. “Are there any more kinky quirks I should be aware of before I have to endure forteen hours in the car with you?”

He turned his head, arching an intrigued brow as he leaned in, swiping his tongue across his lips. “Wouldn't you like to know?” he asked, his voice dripping with pure sin.

She lost another breath, her eyes falling to his lips as she tried to steady her fingers. Perhaps she did want to know, but she wasn't about to admit it. He was blackmailing her for crying out loud. So instead she gulped as his blue depths pierced into her for what seemed like hours rather than seconds before she caught herself and tore herself away, looking down at her sushi. “Would you just drive please? I want to get home as soon as possible,” she said quietly, taking another fish between her chopsticks and sliding it into her mouth.

He complied, looking towards the road and taking the wheel. “As you wish.”

Killian pulled away from the side of the road as Emma looked out her window. They were both silent as he continued through town.

She wasn't looking forward to being stuck in the car with him for fourteen hours - if his shitty yellow Volkswagen would even make it that far.

@rouhn @iejimi @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ijenny16 @lovepurplepumpkins@jennjenn615 @piratesbooty63fan @galadriel26 @ladyciaramiggles @andiirivera @queen-of-dancing-stars @galadriel26 @juliakaze @nfbagelperson @hey-it-is-jess @mcakers @kobe116 @phoenixsxul @winterbaby89 @allie-jimenez123-blog @lindseythompsonxoxo @ultraluckycatnd @its-about-bloody-time-cs @acaptainswaneternity @fleurreads @love-with-you-i-have-everything

[njawaidofficial]

'Mr. Robot' Season 3: Everything to Know Before the Premiere

http://styleveryday.com/2017/10/10/mr-robot-season-3-everything-to-know-before-the-premiere/

'Mr. Robot' Season 3: Everything to Know Before the Premiere

“Mind awake, body asleep. Mind awake, body asleep.”

The soothing mantra of the hauntingly talented hacker Elliot Alderson (Rami Malek) has likely been ringing in the ears of Mr. Robot fans ever since the Sam Esmail thriller shut down its operations (and very nearly shut down its main character) at the end of season two more than a year ago. Now, “Stage Two” of the Dark Army and Mr. Robot’s (Christian Slater) plan is on the cusp of execution, just in time for the launch of season three on Oct. 11.

Of course, those notions are as alien as the techno-jargon found throughout the series for anyone who hasn’t given Mr. Robot much thought in the year since it aired its most recent episode. But considering the incredibly dense nature of the storytelling (the USA Network drama rarely spells anything out for its viewers, and the season three premiere expects fans to remember the events of this complicated tale in great detail), it’s crucial to remember where everything stands as we prepare to return to a world living in the aftermath of the Five/Nine Hack — at least, a better memory than the one Elliot himself is forced to work with.

For a truly deep dive into the current standing of Mr. Robot, we invited you to listen to the first episode of our new podcast covering the series, a collaboration with Post Show Recaps hosts Josh Wigler (that’s me!) and Antonio Mazzaro. All season long, we’ll be providing podcast primers on every episode, starting here with an overview of the series and a table-setting for the season ahead:

In addition to what’s covered in the podcast, read on for some of the fundamentals of what you need to know heading into the new era of Mr. Robot.

1. It’s a Tangled Web

Where do we even begin as we attempt to untangle the events of the past two seasons? It’s best to start at the big season one headline: Elliot Alderson, a distressed but incredibly gifted individual, secretly boasts a Hyde to his Jekyll in the form of Mr. Robot, a second personality who takes on the likeness of Elliot’s late father. The two personalities are at war with one another, with Robot intent on overhauling the world through militant revolution, and Elliot intent on preventing himself from causing lasting harm. Through two seasons, the Robot side of Elliot has scored the lion’s share of the victories, all but fully bringing down the global conglomerate E Corp (alternately known in Elliot’s worldview as Evil Corp) through a massive attack known as the Five/Nine Hack, and now on the edge of instituting a second stage of that plan — appropriately called “Stage Two.” 

There’s a lot more to keep in mind, between Darlene (Carly Chaikin) getting burned and cornered by the dogged Dom DiPierro (Grace Gummer) of the FBI; Angela’s (Portia Doubleday) apparent indoctrination into the mysterious Dark Army; and the boiling feud between two of the most powerful individuals in the world, Phillip Price (Michael Cristofer) and Whiterose (BD Wong). At the heart, however, it’s most critical to understand that the rivalry between the two sides of Elliot has escalated tremendously, thanks to the big season two cliffhanger…

2. The Key Word

When season three begins, there’s one buzz word to keep in mind: “disintegration.” That’s how Esmail and others involved in the series describe the relationship between Elliot and Mr. Robot this year, or lack thereof. Season two ended with the Mr. Robot side of Elliot’s personality proving his commitment to his cause by inviting a gunshot wound, potentially taking him off the playing field, but at least keeping the operation in motion. Season two also concluded with confirmation that Elliot survived the injury (it’s hard, if not outright impossible to imagine this show existing without Elliot in the hub of it), but the damage is done: Elliot and Robot’s alliance, as much as one ever really existed, has been blown to bits, thanks to a single bullet. 

Beyond Elliot and Robot’s dynamic, expect other relationships to disintegrate in their own right, whether that’s Elliot and Darlene — due to her precarious situation with Dom and the FBI — or Angela and Phillip Price — due to her potential newfound loyalty with Whiterose — as just two of many potential examples.

3. America’s Most Wanted

Season three stands to bring one of the most important figures in the show’s mythology out of the shadows and back into the light: Tyrell Wellick (Martin Wallström), once on track to become the youngest Chief Technology Officer in E Corp history until a string of self-sabotaging acts turned him into the most wanted man alive. One of them, at least. Tyrell was an instrumental player in the Five/Nine Hack, teaming up with Elliot — or Robot, more accurately — and then disappearing into the ether, almost completely unseen during season two.

The season two finale finally brought Tyrell back into the fold, as it was revealed he wasn’t secretly dead, as Robot tried to convince Elliot. But where exactly was Tyrell over the course of the season, and what exactly has he been into in the time since his disappearance from the public eye? We’re bound to find out this year, as Mr. Robot can’t get away with keeping Tyrell in the dark for much longer. Keep an eye out on the inevitable reunion between Tyrell and his wife Joanna (Stephanie Corneliussen), one of the most intimidating character on the show.

4. The Rose Blooms

Another power player from Robot lore set for an expanded role this season: BD Wong’s Whiterose. Or is it Minister Jiang? Depends on the day and occasion. The veteran actor plays one of the single most fascinating and powerful characters in the series, as both the head of the Dark Army hacker group as well as China’s Minister of State Security. In her private moments, she seems to prefer the Whiterose moniker, so that’s where we’ll settle as well — but that’s about the extent of our confidence when it comes the time-obsessed figure, who comes equipped with some of the most destructive potential of anyone on the show.

“First of all, every trans character on television creates a dialogue about trans people, which is super valuable,” Wong previously told The Hollywood Reporter about playing Whiterose. “We need to get people with the program about what trans people even fucking are. Those of us who embrace trans people, like myself, forget that it doesn’t come easily for people. Here is a character that, for all intents and purposes — there is a poetry of Sam’s utilization of this character as trans — is rather symbolic. What I mean is that he really wants to discuss in a big way on the show the power dynamics associated with gender. There’s a great challenge in being a powerful woman in a powerful white man’s world.”

5. Cannavale Games

And now, a new player enters the arena: Bobby Cannavale, of Vinyl, Boardwalk Empire, Oz, and several other films and shows that aren’t associated with HBO. Given the secrecy surrounding the story of Mr. Robot, it’s not a shock that there’s very little information we currently know about Cannavale’s character — but as the only new series regular on the board (Wong’s promotion notwithstanding), and given the caliber of actor enlisted for the role, it’s safe to say Cannavale’s presence will loom large throughout season three.

With that said, here’s what we do know: Cannavale is playing a used car salesman named Irving. Really, that’s the full extent of what we know. We can make some leaps from there — that perhaps Irving is involved in the mysterious car drama surrounding Tyrell Wellick’s disappearance, for one thing; or that whatever he’s selling, it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be. However he factors into the narrative, Irving stands out as the most intriguing new element in the mix.

6. A Slimmer Robot

Season two of Mr. Robot clocked in at 12 episodes, many of them equipped with extended runtimes. Between Elliot’s initial incarceration through the first two-thirds of the season, as well as the expanded focus on the greater ensemble, the second year of the award-winning series felt fuller than its first season — for better or for worse, depending on your outlook.

But season three aims to bring the series back to basics, at least in terms of how it will unfold: a lean 10 episode order, the same amount of installments as seen in season one. Given the current complexity of the narrative, can Mr. Robot accomplish all of its season three business with only ten episodes? That’s one of the big questions heading into the season — but it also presents the possibility for a leaner and tighter thrill-ride than anything the show has put forth before, both an exciting and daunting prospect to consider.

7. The Loose Ends

How will Darlene escape the FBI’s wrath? What are Angela’s true motives? Should we be worried about Trenton and Mobley, the fsociety hackers last seen in Arizona fielding an unexpected visit from the deadly Dark Army agent Leon, played by Joey Badass? Are we really delving into questions of time travel and parallel universes, as Whiterose has seemingly intimated? And what exactly is inside the Washington Township power plant? Really, the list of lingering questions still in the mix for Mr. Robot is vast, but season three stands ready to tie up at least a few of those loose ends — and at the end of the day, it all comes back to the man (or men) in the title.

“I’ve looked back on the second season and I’ve seen a lot of similarities with The Empire Strikes Back, in terms of Luke/Elliot going away and isolating themselves, while their sister is out there and battling the evil empire,” Esmail previously told THR about how he views the road ahead for season three. “I think this is the return of Elliot. Season three, and the way I’ve been thinking about it, is sort of the return to Elliot — but not the naive Elliot we saw at the beginning of the season. It’s the Elliot we’ve seen go through this horrific experience from the first and second seasons, and with all of that in mind, that’s going to make this new Elliot come into fruition in the next season.

Bonus: One Last Listen

Still looking for ways to catch up ahead of season three? Once again, we have you covered on the podcast front, with a second preview show — this one guiding you through 18 key scenes from the series you ought to watch in order to freshen up on all things Robot.

Follow THR.com/MrRobot for interviews, news, podcasts and more all season long. Mr. Robot returns Oct. 11.

              Mr. Robot

#3 #Premiere #Robot #Season

[g-a-b77-blog]

Top 50 Christmas Gift Ideas UNDER $50 You can Order Online by Nicole Anderson

With the Christmas holiday quickly approaching the malls and stores around the nation will soon be filled to capacity. If you'd like to avoid the hassle and have your Christmas presents delivered straight to your door without braking your pocket book, check out these unique gifts UNDER $50 that you can purchase online for your kids, mom, dad, husband, wife, brothers and sisters. Gifts for WOMEN 1. CROCS TM $29.99 The original CROCS TM Sandal (Unisex). Your favorite CROCS(TM) in MANY colors. Propriety sandals are slip-resistant, bacteria-resistant and nonmarking. Available at http://www.crocs.com 2. Lavender-Filled Linens $28.00 Put one in your pillowcase for sweet-scented dreams. You can purchase lavender-filled linens by elizabethW at http://www.elizabethW.com Click to view gift: http://www.elizabethw.com/shp/shopdisplayproducts.asp?id=28&cat=Lavender+Pillow 3. Cropped puffer vest $44.62 Hot, high-quality down-filled polyester, Sleeveless, cropped length puffy vest. Has snap pockets, front zip and loop-and-button closure with detachable faux fur-trimmed hood. Available at http://www.gap.com Click to view gift: http://www.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=25034&pid=413141&scid=413141022 4. CASHMERE SOCKS $18.95 Very cozy and affordable cashmere footies by Banana Republic. Get them in any color. Available at http://www.bananarepublic.com Click to view gift: http://www.bananarepublic.com/browse/product.do?cid=24793&pid=433629&scid=433629012 5. Croissants from Williams-Sonoma $39.95 Made by French pastry chef Jean-Yves Charon, these are shipped frozen so you can savor fresh-baked croissants just like those in a French patisserie. A box of 15 is available at http://www.williams-sonoma.com or call 877-812-6235. Click to view gift: http://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/4276333/index.cfm?clg=27 6. Juicy Couture Charm Bracelet $35.00 The signature core of the Juicy Couture jewelry line comes complete with a heart charm at the end. Available at http://www.nordstrom.com Item # 140417. Click to view gift: http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/2850076?search=true&searchtype=keywordsearch 7. Intimates Nordstrom Flannel Pajamas $48.00 Premium cotton flannel make for the coziest pj's. Available at http://www.nordstrom.com Item # 153071. Click to view gift: http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/2862436?search=true&searchtype=keywordsearch 8. Tiffany & Co. Holiday Mug $45.00 Mug from the Tiffany HOLIDAY Collection. Bone china, 10-ounce capacity. Available at http://www.tiffany.com Click to view gift: http://www.tiffany.com/Shopping/item.aspx?sku=11764509&search_params=t+Mug+from+the+Tiffany+HOLIDAY+Collection-s+0-p+1-l+-h+-c+-r+-x OR Tiffany & Co. Annual pocket diary $40.00 Blue patent leather. 3x5". Available at http://www.tiffany.com Click to view gift: http://www.tiffany.com/Shopping/item.aspx?sku=21627119&search_params=t+Annual+pocket+diary.+Blue+patent+leather-s+0-p+1-l+-h+-c+-r+-x 9. Shuga Buds, Swarovski Cystal Head phones $48.00 Listen to your favorite tunes with these sparkling buds. Choose iridescent, gold, blue, green or pink. crystals. For use with iPods, MP3 players, portable CD players, and Sony Walkman. Available at http://www.neimanmarcus.com Item #NMOF7_H11EW Click to view gift: http://www.neimanmarcus.com/store/catalog/prod.jhtml?cmCat=search&itemId=prod24950136 10. Necklace Vault Jewelry Box $49.99 Designed to hold a variety of necklaces, this stylish vault features four glassed sides for display. Open the door to fund hooks that hold necklaces securely and keeps them from tangling. A single drawer at the bottom holds other small items. A NEMA 48 PSC Motor wonderful gift, it's boxed for giving! Available at http://www.bombaycompany.com Item#: 1866735 Click to view gift: http://www.bombaycompany.com/gp/product/B0006ZSMTA/ref=sr_11_1/102-5692121-2557710?ie=UTF8&bmBrand=core 11. Triple Garnet Heart Necklace $50.00 Win her heart. 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Available at http://www.victoriasecret.com Item #203-256 Click to view gift: http://www2.victoriassecret.com/commerce/application/prodDisplay/?namespace=productDisplay&origin=onlineProductDisplay.jsp&event=display&prnbr=XF-203256&page=1&cgname=OSGIFBGSZZZ&rfnbr=3285 16. Victoria Secret Three-piece pajama gift set $39.50 Bedtime is three times as fun with cotton sleepwear in cheerful prints. Includes three-quarter sleeve cardigan with button front, cami with adjustable straps and ruching, and full-length bottom with drawstring elastic waist. Arrives in a matching gift bag. Imported cotton. Available at http://www.victoriasecret.com Sizes XS-XL. Item #202-702 $39. Click to view gift: http://www2.victoriassecret.com/commerce/application/prodDisplay/?namespace=productDisplay&origin=onlineProductDisplay.jsp&event=display&prnbr=XF-202702&page=1&cgname=OSGIFPGSZZZ&rfnbr=3281 Gifts for MEN 17. Bookmark Dictionary II $49.99 Have the American heritage dictionary of the English language, fourth edition, and its revised and updated 130,000+ words and definitions right at your fingertips--literally--as you read! This tiny bookmark dictionary is truly thin enough to use as a bookmark, and its slim, flexible keypad secures to any book with unique keypad clip. Imported. o Keeps date and time. o Large lcd screen for easy reading. o Makes a great gift! o Multifunction calculator also converts measurements of length, temperature, weight, etc. o Uses on lithium battery(included) and features auto shutoff function. Available at http://www.macys.com Click to view gift: http://www1.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=118103&PseudoCat=se-xx-xx-xx.esn_results 18. Callaway HX Tour 56 Golf Ball - Personalized $44.99 One dozen top of the line, new design Callaway golf balls PERSONALIZED. Available at www.austads.com. 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Holiday Happiness Gift Basket, Hickory Farms $15.99 - 49.99 Assorted Gift Baskets Available at http://www.hickoryfarms.com Click to view gift: http://www.hickoryfarms.com/shop/productform.asp?subcategory_code=2&search_type=subcategory&page=1&category_code=1 35. Lumiscope Holmes Foot Buddy Personal Heater $29.99 Ideal for use in the home or office! The Holmes Foot Buddy Personal Heater features a spacious resting surface and a removable fleece pocket for your feet. It has a simple toe-touch power button and can be adjusted to two different heat settings and three different angles. A built-in handle makes it easy to transport the warmer from reading chair to desk or den, and the fleece pocket removes for washing. Use with or without fleece toe pockets. Available at http://www.sears.com Sears item #08038127000 Mfr. model #38127 Click to view gift: http://www.sears.com/sr/javasr/product.do?cat=Shop+by+Price&pid=08038127000&vertical=GIFT&subcat=Gifts+Under+%24+50&BV_UseBVCookie=Yes Gifts for Kids 36. Giga Ball $49.88 Jumbo inflatable ball is big enough to crawl inside, roll across the yard and even bounce! One look at the Giga Ball and kids can't wait to bounce it, roll it, and crawl inside to tumble, bounce and spin, spin, spin! Available at http://www.spilsbury.com Item #18961 Click to view gift: http://www.spilsbury.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=30001&storeId=10001&productId=8961&langId=-1&parent_category_rn=11111&categoryId=11111&ref=spilsbury&itemNo=1&totalNo=1 37. Kick Disc Power Puck $39.99 Kick Dis is a 7" diameter puck with a motor, rechargeable battery and tough rubber bumper. It hovers, glides and even streaks across rooms, never touching the ground! Play air hockey, hover soccer and more for hours of fun. Available at http://scientificsonline.com Item #3033540 Click to view gift: http://scientificsonline.com/product.asp?pn=3033540&cmss=3033540 38. Jump-O-Lene Trampoline $39.88 Indoors or out, kids will bounce for hours on this inflatable trampoline. Made from heavy-duty vinyl with 13/4' high attached safety wall with rain-drain holes. Available at www.spilsbury.com Item #14663 Click to view gift: http://www.spilsbury.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=30001&storeId=10001&productId=4663&langId=-1&parent_category_rn=11111&categoryId=11111&ref=spilsbury&itemNo=1&totalNo=1 39. Moon Shoes $40.00 Who hasn't wanted to escape the bounds of gravity, even for a second? Like mini-trampolines for the feet, these funky shoes provide out-of-this-world fun. Strap them on and prepare to lift off, lightweight and strong, they let kids jump, bounce, hop and leap with abandon Available at www.redenvelope.com Click to view gift: http://www.redenvelope.com/re/gifts/product_display/product_information.jsp?nc=71653&BV_SessionID=@@@@1481718969.1163460895@@@@&BV_EngineID=cceiaddjfkeiemgcefecefedfgfdfmh.0&refPg=%2fproduct_display%2fgift_results.jsp&bct2=recipient&bcp2=1&bcm2=1%24%24-8070&bct4=for+kids+%2B+teens&bcp4=3&bcm4=1%24%24-8074&bct5=6-12+years&bcp5=4&bcm5=29$$%2Frecipient%2Ffor+kids+%2B+teens%2F6-12+years@@30$$-9962@@35$$9962&catOid=-9962&oid=2607424&nc2=1 40. Walkie Talkie Wrist Watches $30.00 Move over, 007. These undercover devices allow young sleuths to hold their own covert conversations. Disguised as digital wristwatches that display the time and date, these walkie-talkies have built-in microphones and fitted earpieces for hands-free communication. Available at www.redenvelope.com Click to view gift: http://www.redenvelope.com/re/gifts/product_display/product_information.jsp?nc=56469&BV_SessionID=@@@@1481718969.1163460895@@@@&BV_EngineID=cceiaddjfkeiemgcefecefedfgfdfmh.0&refPg=%2fproduct_display%2fgift_results.jsp&bct2=recipient&bcp2=1&bcm2=1%24%24-8070&bct4=for+kids+%2B+teens&bcp4=3&bcm4=1%24%24-8074&bct5=6-12+years&bcp5=4&bcm5=29$$%2Frecipient%2Ffor+kids+%2B+teens%2F6-12+years@@30$$-9962@@35$$9962&catOid=-9962&oid=5213634&nc2=1 41. Voice Protected Diary $30.00 Hell hath no fury like a girl whose diary has been compromised by her little brother. Boasting a high-tech voice recognition system, this version allows her to divulge to her heart's content without fear of being discovered. (Even if someone guesses her password, only her voice can unlock the diary.) Other features include high and low security settings, a mini light for writing at night and, best of all, an intruder alert. The tri-fold design has spring-loaded doors that open with ceremony to inspire her next entry. Available at www.redenvelope.com Click to view gift:

http://www.redenvelope.com/re/gifts/product_display/product_information.jsp?nc=61623&BV_SessionID=@@@@1481718969.1163460895@@@@&BV_EngineID=cceiaddjfkeiemgcefecefedfgfdfmh.0&refPg=%2fproduct_display%2fgift_results.jsp&bct2=recipient&bcp2=1&bcm2=1%24%24-8070&bct4=for+kids+%2B+teens&bcp4=3&bcm4=1%24%24-8074&bct5=6-12+years&bcp5=4&bcm5=29$$%2Frecipient%2Ffor+kids+%2B+teens%2F6-12+years@@30$$-9962@@35$$9962&catOid=-9962&oid=16691902&nc2=1 Gifts for Girls 42. Ballerina Musical Jewelry Box $26.99 Our smallest jewelry box is a replica of the one we had as a little girl. White box opens to a soft pink colored interior. Lift the hinged lid and witness a miniature ballerina twirling. Available at www.mybambino.com ITEM # JEWEA Click to view gift: http://www.mybambino.com/balletjewbox.html 43. Children's Sterling Silver Heart ID Bracelet $45.00 Surprise a special little girl with this lovely sterling silver ID bracelet! It features a link design and is accented with a dangling heart. Engrave her name and watch her eyes light up. Available at www.thingsremembered.com Item# 500953 Click to view gift: http://www.thingsremembered.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/product_10001_10001_500953_-1_1 or Girl's Sterling Silver Heart Locket $45.00 Your little girl will adore this beautiful sterling silver heart locket. Place a cherished photo inside and engrave a name or date to create a lasting memory. Available at www.thingsremembered.com Item #517881 Click to view gift: http://www.thingsremembered.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/product_10001_10001_517881_-1_1?fcref=fg517881 Gifts for BOYS 44. Gearbotics Sonic T-Rex Robot Kit $28.95 Gears Trex Kit! Start beginning builders off on the right foot with a Gears! Gears! Gears! Building project that's guaranteed to be ferocious fun! Twenty-eight piece gear building set has exactly the right pieces to bring a wonderful T-Rex to walking, roaring life. Includes motor with T-Rex sounds, gears, connectors and dinosaur pieces. Dinosaur measures 17". Ages 5 and up. Available at www.discoverthis.com Item # LR-9195. Click to view gift: http://www.discoverthis.com/gears-trex.html 45. LITTLE RED SCOOTER - Radio Flyer $42.99 Classic scooter styling, wood platform with grip tread, and sturdy steel construction. High performance molded wheels and double rear wheels for maximum stability. Adjustable handlebar height and ringing bell. Ages 3-7. Available at http://candy-crate.stores.yahoo.net/liredsctou.html 46. Konus Junior Telescope - KJ4 $49.95 Perfect for young astronomers, the Konus Junior Telescope offers astronomical viewing, zoom spotting for terrestrial use and easy maneuverability! Perfect for the young and curious. Available at http://scientificsonline.com Item #3026801 Click to view gift: http://scientificsonline.com/product.asp?pn=3026801&sid=mer_findgift 47. Robosapien $49.99 Robosapien marks a tremendous advance in remote activated robotic function. Standing over a foot tall, this completely interactive robot has the ability to walk, dance and groove, as well as pick up and throw items. This robotic wonder also delivers several combinations of strike and chops. The fluid biomechanical motions are amazing. Kids can control all the robotic movements with the easy-to-use remote. Program up to 84 different action sequences, and utilize four program modes for advanced operations. Available at www.sears.com Sears item #05219791000 Mfr. model #126414 Click to view gift: http://www.sears.com/sr/javasr/subcat.do?vertical=GIFT&cat=Shop+by+Price&subcat=Gifts+Under+%24+50&BV_UseBVCookie=Yes Gifts for Baby 48. My First Tooth/Curl Box $12.00 Treasure baby's first milestone by holding on to tiny miracles! This set of two silverpate boxes were designed to hold baby's curl from his or her first haircut, and first tooth. These treasures will be kept safe and secure until they are passed on. Set of two circular boxes are engraved with First Tooth and First Curl and are packaged for giving. Available at www.bombaycompany.com Item#: 1866515 Click to view gift: http://www.bombaycompany.com/gp/product/B0002V1KWO/ref=sr_11_1/102-5692121-2557710?ie=UTF8&bmBrand=core 49. Red Baby Long Johns $28.00 Wild West cowboys loved long johns for riding the range; little cowpokes will love them for riding through the house. Ours have the traditional back flap, as well as snaps down the front and on the inside legs. Available at www.redenvelope.com Click to view gift: http://www.redenvelope.com/re/gifts/product_display/product_information.jsp?nc=18983&BV_SessionID=@@@@1481718969.1163460895@@@@&BV_EngineID=cceiaddjfkeiemgcefecefedfgfdfmh.0&refPg=endeca_srch&N=0&Nr=searchable%3A0&Ntk=search&Ntt=long+johns&Ntx=mode%2Bmatchallpartial&initSrch=search&oid=20929519&nc2=1 50. Someday Inc. Personalized Piggy Bank $42.00 A classic gift, hand-painted and personalized for a special penny-saver. A bow crowns this little pig. Comes gift wrapped in a cellophane bag with a bow and a hand-painted Someday Inc. gift card. Available at www.nordstrom.com Item #166359 Click to view gift: http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/2873165/0~2379292~2379293~6008493~6008506?mediumthumbnail=Y&origin=category&searchtype=&pbo=6008506&P=2