#and the sweethearted introvert who understandably tries to check out as much as possible

[fandomsarefamily1966]

Rockstar friendships that have very similar vibes to me

[in-my-feels-probably]

✨1.2K Followers Celebration✨ Submission from @naushtheaspiringauthor

— Hello! First of all, congratulations on 1.2k!! I hope you get more recognition as you really deserve it.

and for the celebration, I'd like to do the first option. For this, I'm choosing the grishaverse fandom, and the character I'm choosing is Nikolai Lantsov. The reason why I love him so much, and thinking about him brings me comfort, is because how sweet he is. I feel like he'd be the kind of person who'll take a glance at me, and will immediately know that I'm not okay. He always tries to lighten up the environment. He is the kind of person who's opposite to me in many ways, but he's also someone I'd relate to, on a lot of aspects. There are many more reasons, but If I write more, it's gonna be way too long, so I'll just leave it to this. And I would absolute LOVE to be in a romantic relationship with him if it was possible. I feel like, even a mere sight of him would make my day a thousand times better.

Some things about me. I'm an introvert,and tend to talk less infront of strangers. But when I'm around people I'm close with, I'm really talkative and energetic. I'm kind of a pessimist and I get annoyed and angry pretty easily. I find it very difficult to express my emotions, and it's almost impossible for me to talk about how I feel. I enjoy my own company on most days. I like to write, play the piano, sing, make some art and listen to music. MY favorite artists are Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey, Olivia Rodrigo, The nbhd and Harry Styles —

hi again!

thank you for participating :)

nikolai is SUCH a sweetheart. very intuitive, can always tell what’s going on. he’d easily be able to tell if there was something wrong. you wouldn’t even need to speak, he’d just know. and he’s quite easy to open up to, it wouldn’t take much for him to know and understand what was bothering you. he’s one of those kinds of people that are a light for everyone else, even when they don’t feel like one themselves. he’s so good at taking care of other people and being a shoulder to cry on, but he doesn’t quite know how to be that for himself. if you could be that person for him, and he able to know when he’s upset just as easily as he knows when you are, it would be such a value to him. anyone who can make his heart less heavy is appreciated by him. anyway, opposites attract, and any quality you find missing in each other, you’d be able to find in the other person. you’d fit right into place.

i think he’d really appreciate an introvert. he certainly isn’t one. he’s royalty and a soldier, he has to be good at talking and persuasion and being comfortable being in front of and commanding a crowd. he values his intelligence and charm, and im sure he appreciates those qualities in other people. but i also think he doesn’t particularly like talking to people. it’s like he’s putting on a performance, and he doesn’t want to perform. he’d know that, around you, that he could just be himself. he wouldn’t have to speak. he’d know you could just sit in comfortably silence. but as you’d get closer to him, you’d open up a lot more. while he wouldn’t want to talk to a crowd, he’d want to talk to you. clever banter is only fun with the other person is just as into it. while he’d get a little annoyed but other talkative people, he’d consider it an endearing quality of yours.

i don’t think nikolai is a pessimist, at least outwardly. a realist, maybe, but he still clings to some promises of hope. they keep him going. you being a pessimist would keep him in check when his thoughts got carried away, and his optimistic thoughts would force you to change your own. you’d balance eachother out with just the right amount of hope and reality.

nikolai is not a naturally angry person. it takes a lot to fluster him, and he doesn’t grow quickly to anger. he’s better at managing those kinds of feelings. but his other feelings, he has a hard time expressing. you two would be in for it trying to dance around what you’re feeling. he’s good with words though, so i think you’d be able to work it out together. you’d have to learn each others signs and tells, and actively work towards better understanding each other. you both feel a lot, and you need an outlet for it.

i think nikolai appreciates the arts, drawing especially. he’s got so many ideas for inventions and things, he needs someone who can sketch them as he plans. you could spend entire days together, ignoring other people and coming up with new ideas for his collection.

also, nikolai would LOVE taylor swift. that man is a mirrorball if i’ve ever seen one, and i just know he’d adore her if he could listen to her. she writes in a way that explains her feelings in such an intricate manner, and i think he’d admire that. he can’t explain his own feelings that well, but her lyrics would help him process. he’d be a swiftie guaranteed.

after a long day, nikolai would be ready to throw himself off of a bridge. hours and hours of boring conversations of politics, trying to appease so many people at once. he’d want nothing more than to see you and sit with you alone, getting his mind off things. he’d find you in your room, where you’d be sitting at the small piano he had brought in. he could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders at the sight of you.

you’d greet him with a smile, patting the spot on the bench next to you. “hello, love. how was your day.”

“mindnumbingly boring. i think i could actually feel parts of my brain dying.”

you’d chuckle, resting your head against his shoulder. “that sounds terrible. do you want to talk about it?”

“no thank you, darling.”

he’d smile down at you, shaking his head. settling in his spot, he’d motion to the piano, resting his fingers on the keys.

“my mother tried teaching me the piano. actually, it was a tutor, but it was on her wishes. i never could master it, much to her displeasure and my annoyance. it was like i was reading way faster than i was able to play. my hands couldn’t keep up.”

you’d nod, your hands brushing his as you ghosted over the keys. “it took me ages to get the coordination right. but i suppose, in your usual fashion, you didn’t have enough patience to keep trying. i’ll bet it’s why you moved on to inventions. at least it was a hobby that would keep your mother off your back.”

“be nice to me!” he’d scold, but he was grinning at your teasing. “i’ve had a long day.”

“as you command, moi tsar,” you’d jest, smiling when he rolled his eyes.

it was his turn to settle his head on your shoulder, taking a long and deep breath. he shut his eyes, savoring the peaceful moment.

“play something for me,” he’d say softly.

you’d nod, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head, before turning your attention back to the keys, beginning to play a melody he’d always mentioned liking.

—

hope you enjoyed this! thank you for the kind words :)

[letarasstuff]

"I don't wanna leave you, Daddy"

(A/N): This was requested by an Anon and it's based on this concept. I hope you are ready for the feels.

Summary: Hotch's daughter is an introvert. A quiet one. But why does she go even quieter after her mother's death?

Warnings: So much hurt. Angst. Fluff. It's bitter sweet.

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

(Y/N) never really was an outgoing person. Even since she was able to walk and talk, she still clung to her parents. She refused to play on the playground when other children were there. Socializing was just not her thing. Her parents were sure that she would never be the person to stand up and perform on stage spontaneously. And it is ok.

This doesn’t really change when Jack comes around. Sure, as he grows older and more capable of things (Y/N) plays with him. But it really seems like he is the only one around her age she is not afraid to befriend.

Aaron and Haley reassure themselves that their daughter will find friends in elementary school. After all this is an institution where many children go to and there also are adults trained for helping them coming along. She definitely will find at least one other kid to hang out with regularly and learn how to be a proper child. Because as of right now (Y/N) is more like a little adult, taking responsibilities, like watching over her little brother, she doesn’t need to do voluntarily. Maybe she will be more messy, rebellious, anything but a perfect child.

But this doesn’t exactly happen. (Y/N)’s teachers are really happy with her. Every parent-teacher conference is about how well and polite she is, always behaving good and following the rules. Sadly, they don’t have any good news regarding her social life. It’s not that she doesn’t get along with her classmates, it’s just that she isn’t able to strike up a conversation or is very good at keeping one long enough that a kid is interested in her.

Knowing that (Y/N) is mostly quiet in her school days, Aaron makes it a habit to bring her more often to the office. She surprisingly warms quickly up to his team and whenever she is around them the girl is an unstoppable tornado running loose around the bullpen.

This is kind of how she grows up until the age of middle school. (Y/N) learns some social skills and makes a few friends over the last few years. Unfortunately these friendships are not as deep as the parents wish, still it’s better than nothing.

Things get difficult when Aaron and Haley start to separate. It never is easy when parents fall out of love and it is not only difficult for Jack to see his father not as often as he used to, considering he still is a toddler needing both parents. Especially (Y/N), who is more of a daddy’s girl than a mommy’s girl, suffers from the situation at home.

Of course it’s hard on her to not see her father for a week or two at a time, but ever since her parents are going on parted ways she sees him at most one weekend every three weeks. This also changes her social life dramastically.

“(Y/N), don’t you wanna do something with your friends? You can invite them over for the weekend”, Haley suggests after watching her daughter not going out with somebody outside of school for several days. For the past two weeks the ten year old just comes home, does her homework and puts her nose in one of the books her Uncle Spencer recommended.

The girl only looks up at her mother to shake her head. “Why not, Sweetie? I haven’t seen William and John in so long. Are you still friends with them?” (Y/N) nods again. “So what is it? Are you guys fighting?” Haley sits down next to her on her bed.

“No, they just-just don’t know about this. I don’t want to tell them. And I want to stay home. It’s ok how it is right now”, she admits. Her mother’s heart breaks at that statement.

In this moment she realizes that anything a parent does has immediate consequences for the children. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I didn’t know this is so hard for you. Maybe you can talk to them over the next few days about it, I think it’ll help you. Do you want to watch a film with me for now? Jack has a sleepover at a friend’s. We can do a girl’s night. We hadn’t had one in a long time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes light up at that. “With all the candy in the world?” Haley smiles at the newfound excitement. “Of course. Anything you want.”

From only seeing Aaron every now and then it suddenly turns to not knowing when she will see him next. After George Foyet ambushes him and makes his family into the next target, (Y/N), her brother and her mother have to go into witness protection.

The goodbye at the hospital is painful and filled with tears. “But Dad, I don’t want to leave you. I’ll miss you too much. I don’t like not seeing you. And what about you? You will be more lonely and-and I can’t leave you”, she confesses, sobbing into him.

Hotch has to hold his own tears back. He doesn’t want to come over as stoic, but as the strong father figure he always tries to be. “Honey, I know I’ll miss you so much. You have to be strong for your mother. This will not be easy and I know it. I promise to do my best to get all of you back as soon as possible, ok? Please be good for your mother and behave. We all need to work together for you to get back fast and safely.”

(Y/N) continues to cry into his hospital gown. Aaron can’t help it and dissolves in tears himself while trying to calm her down. “Shh, Honey. Everything will be fine. I’m so so sorry for all this. I never wanted something like this to happen. Shh, we will see each other real soon. The team and I will do our best. Just please, don’t cry. Please, it all will be better. I can’t let you go without seeing your beautiful laugh for one last time.”

“I don’t wanna leave you, Daddy. I-I wanna stay with you and Uncle Dave and Auntie JJ and Uncle Spencer and Uncle Der and Auntie Penny and Auntie Em. I’m scared you won’t be fine when we come back.”

It’s needless to say that nobody cracked even a smile that day.

Going into witness protection made Haley worry about Jack especially. He is just four years old and she isn’t sure how much he understands about what’s going on. Surprisingly the boy gets accustomed to the situation pretty fast. Of course he misses his father and his people from school, but he is also quick to meet new ones in the town they moved to.

(Y/N) has bigger problems. New school. New kids. New everything.

“Maybe you can see it as a fresh start. Here is nobody you know. You can be whoever you want to be. I can take you shopping and you can try out a new style”, her mother tries to make the situation sound advantageous to her. But the girl dryly answers: “When somebody doesn’t like me how I am now, how will they like an act?”

Sam Kassmeyer regularly reports back to Aaron about his family’s well being. “Jack is thriving. His teachers describe him as a bundle of joy. (Y/N) slowly gets acclimated to the change. Haley told me she started making friends with a girl in their neighborhood. I already ran a background check and the family is clean.”

Hotch lets out a sigh of relief. He turns towards the image on Penelope’s monitor. “Happy fifth birthday, Buddy.”

A few weeks after that it seems like the events overturn each other.

Foyet coming back. Kassmeyer getting tortured. Foyet finding Haley and the children. Them coming back to their house. The call. Working the case with Jack. The gunshot. The fighting noises. Hotch opening the box and hugging both of his children, relieved to see them alive.

The following weeks are difficult for the now smaller family. They mostly consist of watching videos of happy memories and talking about their feelings. Although it’s more like Jack talking about his feelings, (Y/N) went mostly silent ever since their mother’s death. This worries her father more than anything.

Two months have gone by. “Hey Honey, I’m going into the office today. Do you wanna come with me, stay at home or go to school? Anything is fine by me”, he asks her softly, kneeling beside her chair at the table. The girl is munching on her cereal halfheartedly.

“Can I come to the office?” (Y/N) asks in a hoarse voice. It’s actually the first time in four days that Aaron hears her voice. A small smile forms on his face. “Of course, that’s nice. Aunt Penny is asking me after her favorite Hotchner for days on end now. And Uncle Spencer got a stack of books he has for you to read.”

His daughter nods and quickly gets ready. They are soon on their way to Quantico after dropping Jack off at daycare. “How are your classmates? Do you like the new school?” They decided to send (Y/N) to a different school. She couldn’t bear the thought of only being the girl whose Mom died because of a serial killer.

“It’s fine. There are a few girls who are really nice. I think we can be friends. Mo-” She suddenly cuts herself off. Aaron glances over at her. “Continue, Sweetheart. Just tell me what’s on your mind”, he tries to encourage her.

The girl hesitates before following her father’s advice. “Mom would have liked them,” she mumbles. It’s quiet for a few seconds. Hotch is looking for a suitable answer. After all it’s the first time she talked about her mother since her death. “I’m sure of it, Honey. Maybe you can invite them over and I can get to know them. Think about it, no pressure of course.” (Y/N) nods to indicate that she heard him.

Not long later they enter the bullpen. “There she is! My little Hotchner! How you doing, Baby?” Derek asks her and envelopes her into a hug. But she only shrugs her shoulders. This goes on for the rest of the day. Whenever anyone talks to her, the only answer is given by her body language.

Hotch watches helplessly Spencer trying to engage in a conversation with her. His arms and hands are waving around. (Y/N) though just looks at him without being really there mentally. It seems like she is lost in her own thoughts, like it happened so often over the last few months.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?” Dave asks, sitting down on the chair opposite of him. Aaron looks at him funny. “Of course. But (Y/N) is just not ready to talk about Haley and everybody grieves differently. I can’t force her to speak, Dave.”

The older agent leans back in his seat. “I don’t think she needs to talk about her. This probably is too soon. She needs to talk about you. The changes.” After a short pause, in which the other one still doesn’t get the point, Rossi continues. “That little girl just lost her mother. She is scared to lose her father, the one with the high risk job. I think that is enough to talk about.”

This occupies the agent for the remainder of the day. Aaron was so invested in fulfilling both parent roles, that he forgot that he is just a father. The man his children go to when they have a nightmare. The one, who is more lenient than their mother. He can’t be both ones. He can’t be two people in one.

A kid trusts a mother and a father usually. And he can’t be mother and father at once. Hotch has to accept the fact. The fact that (Y/N) and Jack are going to grow up without a mother. But luckily not without mother figures.

Later that day, after tucking Jack in, Aaron knocks on his daughter’s door. A small “Come in!” echoes back to him. He enters her room and spots (Y/N) already in her bed reading a book Spencer gave her today.

“Hey, do you have time before it’s lights out?” He asks, still wanting to give her the upper hand on this. The girl nods and scoots over for her father to take a place. He lays next to her, pulling his daughter into a hug.

“I know I can’t promise it. Coming back to you every time. You know it as much as I do. But I promise you to try anything and everything in the books. You guys keep me going.” Tears roll over both of their faces.

“I-I just”, (Y/N) moves her head onto his chest to sob into it, “Just don’t wanna lose you, too. I-I don’t think I-I can’t be the girl, who doesn’t have a mother AND a father. C-can you stop that from happening?” Hotch has to wipe his eyes before answering.

“I-I try to keep that from happening, Honey. I promise.”

This is how they fall asleep, squished in a twin bed close to each other. In the morning they both are overheated and got a visitor during the night. Jack wakes them up, asking why they had a sleepover without him.

This morning is the first time Aaron sees (Y/N) smiles since day zero.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[hecohansen31]

We all know Jim is a party boy ! Getting drunk, dancing, having fun, when his shy gf prefers to stay at home. She is fine with it, if he is careful. She is mostly scared about all the beautiful girls around him, and when she sees pictures of him with one of them sitting on him on ig, she just wants to cry. (of course, nothing happened, but after that, everytime he sends a text, smile at a girl or go out with friends, she gets ideas)

(A/N): Hello there, sweetie!

I hope you’ll like this! 

I have a strange love-hate relationship with jealousy so if I didn’t write this amazingly just ask me again and I’ll try to do better!

Ahhh haven’t I missed my sweetheart Jimmy?

WARNINGS: Jealousy, Introvert! Reader, Mention of Drugs/Making Out/Insecurities.

You had never been jealous, before Jimmy.

But at the same time, you had never had someone like Jimmy in your life, someone who you cared to the point that it hurt you in any way possible to think of him with another girl, which happened even more frequently than you might think, since Jimmy seemed to be constantly in a crowd.

It was what differentiated you from him: you were shy, and as much as you were also in crowds you couldn’t stand them for longer than a few minutes, preferring the calmness of being outside of them, not always on your own, but in smaller groups than Jim’s.

You didn’t approve of his friends but hadn’t told him anything: you didn’t want to seem irrational and alongside this, the jealousy you felt was something you had to work on your own.

There wouldn’t come anything good from forbidding Jim to hang out with girls, but it still pained you to know that he was out with all those pretty and outgoing girls, constantly hanging on his lips.

It was unfair how gorgeous and popular Jimmy was.

It made you question why he chose someone like you.

A little asocial introvert with her passion for sea at night and collecting shells.

And sometimes insecurity just got the best of you.

You usually tried to hang out with Jimmy’s friends, both to keep an eye out on your boy and both to try to spend time together doing what Jimmy wanted, since although Fridays usually were his thing to choose, you had all the weekend to decide.

That Friday you hadn’t just felt like going out, the gym lesson had kicked your ass and a meeting with your friends had completely drained all your social energies and in the end had felt like going out with Jimmy would have just ruined your mood.

But you didn’t know it could be ruined further, as you scrolled through the stories, coming up with one from a girl of your high school, Heather, Jimmy’s ex-girlfriend, although they had spent simply a date together.

In the small video there was what looked like an idiotic game of pressing the cards between your lips and passing them, innocent enough, hadn’t Heather accidentally dropped it and proceeded to enact the punishment for such a gesture, on the boy to her side.

Kissing Jimmy on the lips.

He looked flustered and even protested, pushing away the girl without too much attention for her as she tried to deepen the kiss, mumbling embarrassed ‘I have a girlfriend’.

But you quickly closed the app, after that, too shocked to mumble anything or to even feel anything, you just threw the phone away across the room and gently collected yourself, pushing your crossed arms onto your chest as your legs came closer to you, in a fetal position in which you felt frozen.

Tears flew down your cheeks and you couldn’t help but try to choke back a few sobs, well aware of your parents in the next room, and as your mother came to check on you before she went out to a theatre piece with your father, you faked of being asleep, snoring lightly.

Alone it all felt even worse, your entire body overthinking, unable to think about anything else than what you saw as it conjured imagines of Jimmy cheating on you with Heather, and although you couldn’t help but feel irrational, the thoughts didn’t stop.

Eventually you tired yourself out, enough to fall in a deep slumber and were woken up by rocks being thrown at your window, with enough force that you felt almost under attack, immediately dragging your body under the bed as you tried to understand whether an earthquake was going on or… somebody was seriously throwing rocks at your window.

And there was actually somebody who was throwing rocks at your window.

You came at the window, thinking about the extreme remote option that your parents had forgotten keys, as your phone again flashed a message, Jim’s name on it.

‘Hey, can I come over? The party is boring’.

‘Miss you’.

‘Babe, is everything alright?’.

‘Don’t ignore me babe’.

‘Ok I am coming over’.

‘(Y/N) why don’t you answer my calls?’.

‘Baaaaabbbbeeee’.

You couldn’t help but blush at the messages, your heart being comforted by your boyfriend’s childish antics.

But was he still your boyfriend?

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain in your chest, but still came to the window more to actually get the boy from under your house, worried that your neighbors might call the police on him.

You answered the incoming calls that he started as he saw you standing at the window.

“Hi” you answered breathily, and you could see his smirk from all the way up there.

“Hey Juliet” he beamed at you “… can I come inside? Your parents aren’t home, right?”.

You wanted to reject him, maybe to make him understand what you constantly felt when he would pull you aside for his friends, but that wouldn’t have been very grown up, and as much as you didn’t feel like staying with him, you felt like pushing him away might make him run further away from you.

But he could already feel that something wasn’t ok, as you came to open the door for him.

He could probably feel that you were cold and pushed him away at any chance you could, as you both sat down on the sofa comfortably separated by a wall of pillow.

Still Jimmy tried to brighten the atmosphere talking about the party.

‘… and Ethan has this new trick, you should have seen him’ but your gaze was unfocused, but he tried to keep it on, thinking you were solely annoyed or tired ‘… and then Heather…’.

“… oh, I saw that you had fun with Heather” it came out of your mouth quicker than you had thought, and you couldn’t eat back, surprised by your own outburst.

Jimmy stilled beside you and then slowly turned to you, surprised by your outburst as you adjusted yourself to face away from him, as you faked not having said anything.

But Jimmy didn’t let you down that easily.

“How do you know?” the way he immediately went on the defensive said got on your nerves.

“Instagram, I saw her stories! Thank God that I did, or you wouldn’t have ever talked about it”.

“What?! No! I would have, but I didn’t think… I didn’t want to kiss her”.

“But you did!” this was all you could say, turning to him with all the anger and jealous you had always held back “… you let her kiss you! Not only when I was away… and not seeing you, but…”.

“It was a stupid game!” he replied, and you had enough, immediately raising yourself up on your legs.

“Isn’t that what our entire relationship is to you!” you shouted back and then before he could reply you ran away, your anger getting the best of you, although you were well aware you were acting immaturely.

You pushed the door against your back, to close it, slumping against it as you felt tears flowing on your face, hiding it between your knees as your lungs screamed in pain through the sobs.

It was all too noisy, enough to make you almost unable to hear Jim coming onto your stairs, slowly and almost with uncertainty, knocking without too much conviction, trying till it got to you attention and his voice spoke softly.

“(Y/N)… I… don’t meant to… can we talk?”.

“Go away, Jimmy! Can’t you see I don’t want to talk with you?”.

“(Y/N)” this time his tone was uncertain anymore, it was desperate, roughing up its edges “… please… you don’t have to open, just listen to me”.

You wanted nothing more than to shout at him against, but something in his words froze you and his silence was an answer enough for him.

“… I didn’t mean to kiss Heather, I know that I can’t convince you of this, but believe me I didn’t want her, I don’t want her, and I never will love her”.

Your sobs lightly stopped, as you calmed down, hearing his words but you were still weary.

“… I… didn’t like being at that party, I don’t like it when we aren’t together, it physically pains me” he was now slumped against the door exactly like you, his tone lightly growing more quiet and shier “… I… was gloated into doing it…”.

“Oh, wait did they hold a gun to your head?” you asked annoyedly, but your tone wasn’t as angry as it was before.

“You know what I meant” he mumbled, and you felt him turning with his face to the door, as if he could whisper the rest of this thoughts against the wood “…I don’t know what I would be without you, you are the only person with who I can feel myself, truly, without drugs or alcohol, you are the only reason why I am still here, and I’ll be for ever damned if I just let you run away, because I did a stupid thing”.

Silence went through you, as you moved closer to the door, desperately trying to destroy the barriers that were between you and him, but at the same time unsure if your heart could take another painful hit.

“… although I know that you might not believe it, I love you more than anything and to know you so hurt, it pains my own heart” his hand gently set itself up on the wooden door, searching your skin, mimicking the same position of your hand “… and I won’t ever forgive myself if this is what breaks us apart”.

The door slightly opened, you didn’t show your face, but let your hands appear onto his threshold, your back turned to Jimmy, but he reached out for your hand all the same.

Maybe all the heartache of the world was worthy with him.

[writingandmore]

Naruto, Disney, and Life Is Strange Match-Up Request

Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

MBTI Type: INFJ

Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 4'11

Body Type/Shape: Average with some curves here and there. I’m pretty small because of my height.

Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it relaxed and flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades.

Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses

Eye Color: Brown

Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd

Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude/mean, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be which can make my temper flare. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to.

Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me.

I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and stop running away. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether (slam the door so to speak) and completely cut them off or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences.

I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details and be organized as hell when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I’m definitely a “big picture” thinker. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated. I expect a lot from people and am rather picky/perfectionistic although I’m pretty laid-back and a bit lazy most of the time which allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it”.

Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). Because of this, I hide myself away because I don’t like putting up with people’s unwanted criticism/judgment of me. I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I am definitely an outcast at heart. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it.

I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms including suicidal thoughts. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia and irregular periods. These things are pretty annoying and humiliating for me to deal with whenever they pop up.

Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P

Naruto: Choji! 

 -As a Pisces, you’re most likely a very friendly person, and that means you would get along really well with someone like Choji! He’s a sweetheart, and never does anything hurtful unless he needs to. He’d like you because of your kindness too, as that’s a must to be in a relationship with him.

 -He doesn’t mention it often, but he’s really into anime, manga, and certain TV shows. When he’s not working or relaxing outside, he spends time getting caught up in all the different medias he’s invested in, so if you share any of the same favorites, he’d want to be around you a lot.

 -Choji is a sensitive person too, so he’d never judge you for getting too emotional over something, and hopefully you’d never judge him. At least you both would get teared up over the same things and comfort each other! 

Disney: Kristoff! 

 -For along time, he didn’t have any other human friends or even family, so once he gets a partner who means a lot to him he’ll be very affectionate too! That’s good since you’re affectionate too. It’d be very very rare for him to turn down any of your advances. 

 -he’d really encourage you to start standing up for yourself, which could help you make progress. He wouldn’t be able to stand anyone saying anything bad about you if you were his partner, so he’d actively encourage you to throw a reply right back to whatever was said. 

 -Again, since he had an unusual childhood, he also goes with his first gut instinct. It’s what got him through a large portion of living in the wilderness with his family, so him being able to think the same way you do would help you understand each other a lot better too! 

Life is Strange: Warren! 

 -Warren is also a highly intelligent person, so you would be able to match each other on that level, which is good for any relationship. Also, he’d really respect you even before the relationship if he knew how smart you are, and hopefully the same would happen vice versa. 

 -He’s very compassionate, and tries his hardest to make people happy. So if his partner was experiencing depression like you are, he’d always be there sending them little texts throughout the day or talking to them in person to check up on them. he would care a lot about your well being! 

 -He can deal with a lot, and you and your lovely personality wouldn’t even be a challenge! He’d try to take everything in stride and be mature, so he’d love every part of you, but still be willing to help you if you wanted to change certain habits or traits. He’d always find a way to be comforting and there. 

[littlemisssquiggles]

Pinehead Headcanons: Oscar the Dancer

If Ruby isn’t a dance-y, prance-y, dance-y girl then can Oscar please be the dance-y, prance-y, dance-y boy that teaches the Silver Eyed Girl to enjoy dancing.

I’ve been rewatching RWBY in preparation for my final review on V5 and just recently finished the Beacon Arc. In recalling the Ball Episode from V2, it’s a shame that we didn’t get to see Ruby Rose strut her stuff on the dance floor and bust some moves. She didn’t even go to the dance with a partner which was a darn shame too.

Dancing can be especially fun when you have the right person with the right kind of understanding and patience to help their partner learn the pleasure in it. I’m hoping that Oscar knows how to dance and is actually a really good dancer.

I’m banking on the concept of their being local festivals with dances in Oscar’s neck of the woods and perhaps Oscar learnt how to dance from his aunt in preparation for one. He probably never attended any out of possibly being too introverted. But the young farm boy could harbour some memories of sharing a dance or two with his aunt as a means of bonding between the two. I imagine Oscar being the type of guy to not go to a social gathering without anyone he’s truly comfortable with and wouldn’t be too embarrassed sharing a dance or two with his aunt if it means cheering her up and putting a happy smile on her face.

My theory is that Auntie Pine has either never been married or is widowed. So she probably hasn’t danced with anyone since her late husband so on those lonely days when his aunt would feel overwhelmed from missing the company of his uncle and their family, Oscar would gladly step in and share a dance with Auntie Pine (y’know since he’s probably a sweetheart like that).

For all we know, Oscar could’ve hailed from household where family get-togethers with lots of delicious food and dancing was a common tradition especially around the holidays.

Let my precious farm boy come from happy, family beginnings where he also learnt how to dance please!

Anyways, I’m hoping there is another dance episode where our heroes get to go to another dance event. Whether it is a formal dance like a charity gala hosted by the Schnee Dust Company or simply partying all night long with Team FNKY at a real Atlesian rave or concert once the group arrive in Atlas, I just want for an opportunity for Oscar to ask Ruby to dance with him.

I’m hoping for a ‘Princess and the Frog’ moment where Oscar noticing a shy Ruby standing the corner by herself asks the Silver Eyed girl to share a dance with him only for her to pull away, saying that she’s not the type to dance.

Ruby: *embarrassed* Oh…uh… that’s really sweet of you Oscar but I...I’m not exactly a dance-y, prance-y, dance-y-girl.

Oscar: Well...I guess it’s a good thing that I’m a dance-y, prance-y, dance-y guy *laughs nervously*

Ruby: *looks at Oscar confusedly*

Oscar: *rubs back of neck awkwardly* That came out wrong. What I’m saying is...how come you don’t you like dancing?’

Ruby: It’s not that I don’t like dancing. It’s...just that I’m not the type of girl to be good at dancing y’know. I’m good at other things like being a huntress and wielding a scythe and beating Grimm. I’m really, really good at those things. But when it comes to dancing, I’m...I...I’ve never danced before. I’ve seen other people dance and it looks like it could be okay, until someone falls or twists their ankle which is pretty much what’s going to happen to me. It’s ok. Some people are good at dancing and that’s great. I’m just not. You’re better off dancing with someone else.

Oscar: Actually I…really don’t want to dance with anyone else, to be honest. The only person I want to dance with is you. *looks at Ruby shyly who in turn stares at him and the two teens share a blushing moment*

Oscar: *clears throat, trying to hide his flushed cheeks* But if you wanna just stand here and talk all night, I don’t mind! It’s just that...maybe the issue isn’t that you’re not good at dancing. Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried it with a good partner. After all, you helped me to become a better huntsman when I didn’t know what I was doing half the time. Maybe I can return the favour. If a simple farm-bred kid like me can be a decent huntsman. Then you Ruby Rose, Silver Eyed Warrior from Patch can definitely dance. *offers hand to Ruby* I’m just asking you to try it once.

Ruby: …Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you *accepts Oscar’s hand as he smiles and leads her to the dance floor*

*When on the dance floor, Oscar turns to face Ruby who is still looking intimidated*

Ruby: *embarrassed* Promise me you won’t laugh if I mess up.

Oscar: Actually… *twirls Ruby around masterfully and dips her down, looking at her closely and radiating a charismatic confidence unseen from him* I plan on laughing with you.

Ruby: *dazed by the sudden movement and staring wide-eyed at Oscar’s smirking face; a light blush slowly creeping up her face* O…kay.

 Can I just get my two precious rose buds dancing together and Oscar teaching Ruby to enjoy dancing to the point that it becomes a key part of their friendship with Ruby opting to dance with no one else but Oscar cause admittedly she likes him as her dance partner and wouldn’t refuse him being that for life; which Oscar would be more than happy to oblige if y’know what I mean.

I want Oscar to dazzle Ruby with his dance moves and for Ruby to learn to genuinely like the young boy and appreciate his patience with her. We can even have a parallel where Ruby teaches Oscar how to be a huntsmen and aids with his huntsmen training while Oscar helps Ruby become a better dancer.

Ozpin once compared the battlefield to the dance floor so it’d be cute to see that reflected through Ruby and Oscar’s development.

But I quite like the idea of Ruby and Oscar each teaching the other something they’re relatively an expert on: Ruby with combat and Oscar with dancing helping Ruby find her groove and come out her shell a bit and vice versa. I’m not sure how and where Ruby Rose needing to learn how to dance would fit into the plot for the Atlas Arc but dammit, I hope it’s something that’s touched on again for the upcoming seasons.

Perhaps the team will have to attend a ball as part of wining and dining with the Atlesian Elite for whatever required reason. Perhaps Weiss needs to gather intel on what her father and brother has been doing with the company since she was dethroned as heiress and after managing to scavenge a party invite,  courtesy of either Ironwood or Winter or perhaps even Henry Marigold again, she’s able to attend and manages to get the whole squad in.

But while there, the group have to be on their best behaviour in order to attract less attention to themselves while Weiss is on her personal mission. Or perhaps it’s a case where Weiss goes on this mission of her own accord but manages to drag Ruby and Oscar into it too as helpers. She mostly brought Oscar along to keep Ruby in check since Ruby was kinda her ticket to getting Whitley or something like that.

Really would love to see Ruby put on a dress and lady stilts again and this time, she’s gotta dance with someone; preferably Oscar. I just wanna see these two slow dance while gazing dreamily into each other’s eyes. A shipper and Pinehead can dream, can’t she?

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)  

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (17/19)

The moment a lot of you have been waiting for...

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.) Content warning for violence and mentions of suicide and in this chapter.

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapters 3, 9, and 16. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 17

Emma couldn’t get the pain in Killian’s eyes out of her mind. Moving the food on her plate around with her fork, she tried to focus on what her parents were saying, but all she could see was Killian, pushing her away. She remembered Henry telling her that he was the same man she’d known before, the same man she’d—

“You’ve hardly eaten, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay?” Mary Margaret regarded Emma’s dinner plate with concern, a mirroring concern reflecting on her father’s face.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She looked up at them and tried to smile, but it was obvious she wasn’t fooling them. She sighed. Emma had resolved not to bottle her feelings up so much, but it took constant vigilance. “I saw Killian yesterday, and I’m worried.”

David sat at attention. “You saw him where?”

“Regina discovered that he’s living in an old mansion at the edge of town, and I went to check on him.”

“Emma, I wish you had taken me with you,” her father said.

“I wasn’t in any danger. But he’s in really bad shape.”

Mary Margaret frowned. “What do you mean, bad shape?”

“He’s exiling himself, I think to protect the rest of us. Marinating in all that darkness, voices filling his head with who-knows-what. Look, aside from whatever my personal feelings for him might be, he’s a ticking time bomb up there. Eventually, he’ll go crazy enough that he’s gonna be a danger to Storybrooke.”

“That’s a good point.” David put down his fork. “So what do you suggest?”

“I thought I might talk to Regina. Maybe there’s a way to get rid of the darkness for good. With magic.” She took a sip of her beer.

“Honey, do you think this is something you can trust Regina with?” her mother asked.

Emma shrugged. “Look, I tried going to your Blue Fairy already, but she was less than helpful. She just offered me a bunch of vague platitudes that would have applied in any situation. It’s no wonder Regina cursed her into being a nun. Meanwhile, Regina hasn’t tried to kill us lately, and she’s been positively civil when she’s picking up or dropping off Henry. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“She could take advantage of a weak Dark One to get her hands on his dagger, and then command him to kill us all,” her father suggested.

“Okay, sure, but let’s hope she doesn’t do that,” Emma said.

~*~

“And why should I help you rescue your boyfriend from the darkness?” Regina arched one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows at Emma from across the diner booth.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and you should help because I assume you don’t want a crazed Dark One in town any more than I do. If he starts doing what the voices in his head are telling him to do, who knows what could happen, but I don’t think it would be good for any of us.” Emma swirled her hot cocoa in her mug while Regina took a sip of her coffee.

“The Dark One’s curse has been around for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. There isn’t any way to break it,” Regina said with finality. “The only way to transfer it is what you already know — kill a Dark One with the dagger, the power goes into you.”

“Is there anyone else here in Storybrooke who might know more? Besides the Blue Fairy — I already tried her and got nothing.” Both women rolled their eyes in tandem.

“In recent memory, I and my mother were the only sorceresses trained by the Dark One, so I know more about Rumpelstiltskin than anyone living… except …” Regina grimaced.

“Except what?”

She looked at Emma uneasily. “Except I sort of forgot that I have Rumple’s mistress locked up underneath the hospital.”

“You forgot?”

“Look, it’s been a long time since I set out the initial parameters for the curse. One of them was that I’d have Rumple’s lover under my control in case I needed leverage against him.”

Emma folded her arms across her chest. “Wow, Regina.”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Rumple was dangerous, and having an ace up my sleeve was a necessary evil.” She sighed, looking petulant. “What I mean to say is, we will let her out immediately. Happy, Savior?”

~*~

The mental ward in the basement of the hospital was dank and morbid, its caretakers right out of a movie, although Emma was pretty sure One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest wasn’t a fairy tale. “Who else do you have down here, Regina?” Emma asked as she trailed behind the other woman.

“No one,” Regina answered, then paused. “Well, just Sidney Glass.”

“Why?”

“Because he failed me,” Regina muttered, and then seemed to realize what she’d said. “I’ll let him out too,” she said sheepishly, walking over and unlocking one of the doors.

Sidney trembled as he stepped before Regina. “Your majesty,” he whispered, bowing low. “Can you ever forgive this humble servant for letting you down?”

“Jesus,” Emma said. “Go home, Sidney. Consider yourself discharged.”

Regina had already moved on to the next door, her former servant all but forgotten. Regina may be walking on the side of light lately, but she was a long way from redemption, Emma reminded herself. The not-quite-as-evil Queen unlocked another door, and as Emma approached, she heard a tremulous, feminine voice say, “You… you’re the queen who had me kidnapped.”

“Yes, and now I’m the queen who’s letting you out,” Regina replied.

Emma came into the room, seeing a short woman with long, brown hair cowering on her narrow bed. “Hey, I’m Emma,” she said, trying to appear and sound as unthreatening as possible. “Do you know where you are?”

The woman — her name was Belle, and Emma had spent most of the drive over struggling to understand the crossover between Rumpelstiltskin and Beauty and the Beast — shook her head quickly.

“Okay, well, first of all, you’re safe. And you’re going to be freed from this hospital right away. My name is Emma, and I’m Sheriff of Storybrooke. Which is where you are, the town of Storybrooke.”

Belle darted a fearful glance at Regina, and then looked back at Emma. She kept her bare feet tucked up under her hospital gown, and Emma made a mental note to call someone to bring her some clothes. “I’ve never heard of Storybrooke. How far is it from Misthaven?”

Emma raised an eyebrow at Regina. “You wanna try to field that question?”

“It’s in another realm, I’m afraid. We’re cut off from Misthaven permanently,” Regina said.

“And is that why Rumple hasn’t rescued me? Because he’s there?”

Emma had been preparing herself for having to explain this part. “Belle, can I sit down?” The other woman nodded. “I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but Rumpelstiltskin has died.”

Belle stared at her a moment, as if she didn’t understand what Emma was saying. Then she shook her head. “That’s impossible; he’s immortal.”

“The Dark One is immortal, Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t,” Regina said.

“What does that mean?” Belle’s fingers clutched helplessly at her threadbare hospital gown, and Emma’s heart ached for the woman.

“There was a curse on the town, and everyone only got their memories back recently. Were you aware of that?”

Belle nodded. “I didn’t remember anything about my own life; I thought I belonged here.” She shot a dirty look at Regina. “And then one day it all came back. Rumple, and my father… everything about my past that I had forgotten. At first, I thought it was proof that I was as crazy as they’d been telling me I was, but… you’re saying the whole town had the same experience? You too?”

“Well, no, but I’m not from here.” Emma reached out and took Belle’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is, during the curse, there were a few people who started to get their memories back more slowly. It was disorienting. One of those people, Killian Jones, he killed Rumpelstiltskin while in this state. He had no idea what he was doing, and no idea that it would cause him to become the Dark One. And now we want to save him, and we’re hoping you can help us.”

Belle narrowed her eyes. “You want me to save… the man who killed Rumpelstiltskin.”

“I told you we should have lied to her,” Regina said.

“You’re not helping,” Emma hissed before turning back to Belle. “I know, it’s awful what we’re asking of you. But maybe if we can do something for Killian, then no one will have to suffer under the Dark One’s curse ever again. We can end it for good.”

That seemed to make an impression on her. “What is it that you think I can do?” she asked.

“I don’t know if you can, but you’re the person in this town who knew the last Dark One the best. Did you ever learn of any way to remove the Dark One’s curse, besides the dagger?”

Belle looked at Regina. “Just true love’s kiss, like the queen told me back in the Enchanted Forest,” she said.

Regina rolled her eyes. “Which didn’t work, so it hardly seemed worth mentioning. Anything besides that?”

“It didn’t work because Rumple didn’t want it to work. He didn’t want to give up the Dark One’s power. But before he realized what was happening, the kiss did start to change him.” Tears welled in Belle’s eyes and fell down her cheeks. “It was true love, it just wasn’t as important to him as being the Dark One.”

“Well,” Regina said, considering, “you did say Hook didn’t care about the power.”

“Let’s talk about it later,” Emma whispered, trying to focus on the woman who was falling apart on the bed beside her. “Come on, Belle, let’s go upstairs. We’ll have Dr. Whale make sure you’re healthy and get you a shower and some clean clothes. Okay?”

Belle nodded, still crying quietly. Emma gently guided her to stand and to leave the room on shuffling feet.

~*~

“True love’s kiss?” Emma grumbled, leaning back against the breakfast bar in the loft. “Really? How is that even a thing?”

Regina shot her a disparaging look from where she sat at the kitchen table next to Henry. “How is it that you’re still struggling to believe even the most rudimentary things about magic? It was a true love potion that you got out of that dragon under the library; that’s what brought magic to Storybrooke.” She lifted her hand, palm up, and conjured a perfect flame on top of it. “Do you doubt the existence of magic?”

“No, but… it seems so silly.”

“It was true love’s kiss that woke Henry from his sleeping curse,” Mary Margaret pointed out. “And me, back in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Okay, fine, it exists. But that was, one, the love of a mother for a child,” Emma said, raising a finger to enumerate her points, “and two, you guys, who I’ll agree are disgustingly in love. But Captain Hook definitely doesn’t love me.” Anymore, she added mentally. Whether she loved him was a question she didn’t want to contemplate.

Regina snorted.

“What?” Emma asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“That pirate spent two hundred years looking for revenge on Rumpelstiltskin for killing his first love. He just doesn’t want to admit to himself that he moved on,” Regina said.

“Regina may have a point,” David offered.

“Add to that the fact that, if the previous Dark One resisted true love’s kiss with Belle, then the darkness knows what a danger you are, Emma,” Regina continued. “It’s probably telling him to push you away.”

A memory sparked in Emma’s mind. “He said something about that,” she murmured. “He said, ‘why is it so afraid of you?’”

“See?” Mary Margaret said, smiling. “The darkness knows that true love always prevails.”

“I still think we need another plan,” Emma said.

“You assumed I haven’t been working on one,” Regina grumbled. “But I actually have, for the reason you stated. I don’t want a half-mad Dark One lurking at the edge of town any more than the rest of you.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?” David asked.

“I didn’t mention it because I haven’t gotten very far with it. My idea was that if I could draw the darkness out with a spell, I could bind it to an object. So I spent some time digging around in Gold’s shop—”

“Looting,” Emma commented.

“The whole town’s been looting the pawn shop,” Henry pointed out. “He had stuff belonging to just about everyone in there.”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Regina continued, “I found this.” She reached into her large purse and pulled out an ornate box, setting it on the table.

“What’s that?” Henry asked.

“Pandora’s box,” Regina replied. “If the darkness is untethered, we could trap it simply by opening the lid.”

“Okay,” Emma said, “that’s promising. And how do we untether the darkness from Killian?”

Regina looked sheepish. “That’s the part I haven’t figured out, but I’ll keep working on it.”

~*~

August sat in his father’s work shed, typing into the wee hours of the morning. He was so focused on his writing that he barely noticed the change in air pressure behind him.

A hand reached out and picked up one of his completed pages, making August jump with fright.

“Did you put in the part about how I stole a dwarf’s car and then told the Sheriff I didn’t know how to drive?” Killian asked. “I thought that was a nice bit of flair.”

“That’s not the story I’m telling, Dark One,” August said.

Killian set the typewritten page back down, his eyes darting around the shed and taking everything in. “You were quite convinced that I would know the dagger when you showed me that picture of it. How did you know?”

August stood up from his stool and backed away, his hands trembling. “I knew the story of Captain Hook and Rumpelstiltskin. I wasn’t sure, but I was taking a gamble that you were the one who killed him.”

“And what did you conclude from our meeting, that day that you barged into my office?” Killian asked. He moved as if to clean his fingernails with his hook, a parody of nonchalance.

“Nothing,” August said. “I couldn’t get a read on you.”

“You were awfully interested in the dagger,” Killian said.

“I knew of its power.”

“And?” Killian asked, moving around the small space, picking up and inspecting some of Geppetto’s wood carvings that sat on the shelves. He returned each item carefully to its place before handling the next.

“And I thought such a powerful magical item might be able to help me with my… issue. Ultimately, though, it seems the Dark One’s dagger has a very limited magic within it.”

Killian laughed at that, a laugh that tore from his chest, a laugh that spoke the tale of the agony within. “That it does.” He turned and looked at August again. “So you are completely healed now? No aftereffects of turning to wood?”

“Why do you care?”

Killian shrugged. “I’m curious.”

“The Blue Fairy says that I need to stay in Storybrooke, or I will revert to my wooden form.” Frustration rose like bile in his throat. “And that even then, the magic in Storybrooke may not be enough to sustain me. I may start to slowly turn into wood again.” He resisted the urge to reach down and rub his leg.

“That must be terrifying,” Killian said. “Every morning, waking up, checking yourself over, wondering if this is the day that your limbs start to betray you. Awakening from a nightmare of being encased in wood, trapped, unable to even scream?” He shuddered theatrically.

“Yeah, it sucks; what’s your point?”

“What if I could help you?” Killian said, a carved wooden doll still clutched in his hand. “There is a magic that would ensure you would remain a real boy forever.”

“And what’s that?” August asked, dread and mistrust coiling in his stomach.

“It’s this,” Killian said simply, reaching inside his leather coat and pulling out the dagger. He flipped it in the air, catching it by the flat of the blade, and then set it on the stack of August’s manuscript. August stared at it blankly.

“Are you asking me to… control you with it? I don’t understand.”

“If I thought you were actually villainous enough to command me to do anything dastardly, I wouldn’t be offering it to you. But I think your self-preservation is strong. Strong enough to do what you have to.”

August picked up the dagger. He imagined that the dagger itself shuddered with restrained power, but it was likely his own hand trembling.

“What do you want me to do?” August asked.

Killian held both of his arms out wide. “Kill me with it.”

“What?” He gaped at Killian. “Why would you want me to do that?”

Killian rolled his eyes in frustration. “The Dark One’s power will keep you from turning into wood. Didn’t I explain this already? Are you slow?”

“And you’ll be dead,” August said.

Killian laughed, another haunting sound that sent a chill up August’s spine. “Turns out, being the Dark One wasn’t the right career move for me. I don’t have any particular desire to rule with an iron fist. I’m not a deal-maker. This power is wasted on me.”

“But you think I want it?”

“I think you want to stay a living person, and not a wooden doll.” He waved the small doll he still held for emphasis.

August looked down at the dagger, and then back up at the haunted eyes of the man in front of him. “No offense, but you’re not making this look like a particularly appealing trade.”

Killian sauntered close, closing his hand around August’s on the hilt of the dagger. “Come on, Pinocchio,” he gritted out. “Be a man! Put me out of my misery, and save yourself.”

August wrenched back, his hand loosening and letting the dagger fall to the dusty floor between them. “I won’t.”

Killian swiped his arm through the empty air in front of him. At the same moment, August felt it like a fist connecting with his jaw, and he stumbled backward. “You’re useless,” the Dark One muttered. He brought his hand up, palm out, and August was thrown back against the cabinets behind him, the back of his head connecting painfully with a shelf.

The Dark One advanced on him. “Weak, and useless, and not worthy to breathe the same air as the Savior.” August’s vision swam and he started to slide to the floor. He spared a thought for his poor Papa, who would find his dead body out here in the morning. Geppetto didn’t deserve that kind of grief. Not again. He lost consciousness.

When August opened his eyes what felt like a moment later, the dagger was gone, and so was the Dark One.

With a shaking hand, August pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call.

~*~

Regina fumbled for her Blackberry on the nightstand, bringing it to her ear without looking at the screen. “Hello?”

“Regina, we need to do something now. Killian’s suicidal.” It was Emma, sounding panicked.

“Great, let him off himself, we’d all get a lot more rest,” she grumbled.

There was a huff of frustrated breath into the phone’s speaker. “He went to August and tried to get August to stab him with the dagger. He refused, but Killian will find someone to do it eventually. We can’t wait any longer.”

“The spell is a long-shot, Emma. I’ve done what I can, but I honestly don’t think it will work.”

“We have to try. Please, Regina.”

Regina ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. She had to admit, it felt good to be needed, to be valued for her skills with magic. She could see it in Henry’s eyes sometimes, that he was proud of her. He’d never looked at her that way before. It brought a swell of satisfaction in her chest that vengeance never had. “Okay, we’ll try.”

~*~

Emma swallowed against the nausea of teleportation as Regina materialized the two of them in the mansion.

“Killian!” she called out immediately, already running for the stairs that she thought led to the library.

“If he doesn’t want you to find him, calling out his name is idiotic,” Regina said, trailing behind her. “He’ll just teleport away from here.”

Emma ignored her, tearing from room to room and continuing to call out Killian’s name. She had to find him. She had to.

Regina appeared before her in a puff of purple smoke as she opened the door of an unused bedroom. “He’s not here, Emma.”

“So what now?”

“Well, if there’s something around here that belongs to him, we could take it back to my vault and I can do a locator spell.”

The curtains in the bedroom were open, and the first pale light of dawn caught Emma’s eye. “No need. I think I know where he is. Take us to the docks.”

With an eye roll, Regina waved her hand as Emma braced herself for the disorienting nausea of teleportation once again, squeezing her eyes shut.

She smelled the cannery and heard the cry of seagulls before she opened her eyes.

“How did you find me?” Killian asked.

Emma blinked, orienting herself. Killian stood a few feet away, near the railing that separated part of the dock from the harbor. The masts of the fishing boats in their slips stuck up like bones picked clean in the dim light.

“You told me once that you found the water calming.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze still trained out over the bay. Emma turned to Regina, raising her eyebrows. It was now or never.

Regina lifted her hands and murmured an incantation under her breath. When she reached the point that they had rehearsed, Emma pulled a potion out of her pocket, uncapped it, and threw it toward Killian. The red liquid splashed on his leather jacket as Regina continued to speak.

Killian turned around slowly, looking back and forth between them both. Regina trailed off into silence.

“Regina?”

“I’m sorry, Emma. The spell didn’t work.”

The laugh that came out of Killian’s throat was high-pitched and foreign. “You thought there was a spell that could cast out the darkness? You’re even stupider than I thought, Dearie.”

“We just want to help you, Killian,” Emma said.

“I’m not sure Killian is the one in control right now, Emma. We need to go.” Regina raised her hand, ready to teleport them both away.

“No.” Emma put a hand on Regina’s shoulder. “You can go if you want, but I won’t.”

“He’ll kill you,” Regina responded.

Emma took a step forward. “I know you must be in there somewhere, Killian. You want to get rid of the darkness. You don’t want to be the Dark One. So let us help you.”

“I don’t need the help of a trollop and a queen who rules over nothing,” he responded. “Get away from here.” His lips pulled back in a grimace, revealing a flash of white teeth. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes bright and wild with madness. Emma could almost feel the battle that seemed to be raging underneath his skin.

Taking another step, she reached out for him. “Killian, please.”

“I said get away from here!” he roared, and he raised his fist, clenching it.

Emma gasped as she felt herself raised onto her toes by an unseen force. She could feel his fingers on her neck, and she tried to draw air in through her open mouth, her chest heaving as she failed to draw breath. Her hands came up to her throat, scrabbling at the skin, trying to release the pressure on her windpipe, but there was nothing there to fight against.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Regina raise her hands, fire flickering on her fingertips, and just as quickly the sorceress was thrown back, hitting the ground several feet away like a discarded doll.

Emma could hear the tiny, desperate sounds coming out of her own throat as she attempted to breathe. Heard the sounds of the dock beginning to muffle as she started to lose consciousness. Her vision went black at the edges, exploding dots of white in front of her eyes. Through it all, she kept her gaze on Killian, on the desperate mask of pain that was his face, on the struggle that she could see behind his eyes.

The sun breached the horizon, its yellow rays filling her vision. At least the last thing I see before I die will be a pretty sunrise, Emma thought faintly.

Then there was a hoarse shout from somewhere, and the pressure on her throat suddenly let up. Emma fell to her knees as she raggedly drew breath, gasping in great lungfuls of air. She let her head drop, swaying as she struggled to remain conscious.

She heard rather than saw Killian slump the ground.

“Killian,” she rasped, crawling forward, the rough wood of the dock painful under her hands and knees. Finally able to raise her head, she saw him slumped against the railing, tears running down his cheeks.

“I don’t know how long I can fight the darkness off, Emma,” he gasped, his voice entirely his own for the moment. “You have to find a way to kill me, to stop this curse forever.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” She clutched at his leather-clad arm, pulling herself close and pressing her forehead against his as she swayed above him.

“Please,” he said, still crying. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” The sun shone brightly behind him, lighting up the ends of his hair and casting his face in shadow. Emma brought her other hand to his stubbled jaw. “You won’t.”

“I’m weak,” Killian gasped.

“Me too,” she responded, almost laughing. “What do you think it was that brought us together?”

Killian pulled back, looking into her eyes. “I never thought I would be able to let go of my first love, my Milah. But then I met you. Please, Emma, you can’t be here with me. I’ll destroy you.”

Shaking her head mutely, tears falling, her heart full and near to cracking inside her chest, Emma pressed her closed mouth against Killian’s.

She felt the wave go through her, felt the air pressure change inside her ears and her hair flutter with an unseen breeze. The constant cry of seagulls stopped suddenly, leaving only the sound of the water against the hulls of the gently rocking ships. And it was warm when it passed through her. She knew that warmth, had felt it when she’d pressed her lips to the forehead of her son in his hospital room.

Opening her eyes, Emma pulled away and looked at Killian. He was blinking, confused and disoriented.

“What was that?”

Emma smiled tremulously. “Is the darkness…?”

“Gone,” he said, looking at her with wonder. “The darkness is gone.”

“Unfortunately,” cut in Regina’s voice, shattering the fragile moment, “that’s not entirely true.”

Emma turned and frowned at Regina, who simply pointed up at the sky. Emma’s gaze followed her finger.

“What the hell is that?”

Chapter 18

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Intervention” - Part 1

“Intervention” - Requested Oneshot (Part 1)

My Masterlist - Here 

Father!Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1,771

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: PLEASE READ THESE! THIS SMALL SERIES IS SUPER HEAVY AND TRIGGER HEAVY! Self Harm, Anxiety, Self Hatred, Intense Drinking, Mental Issues, Blood. If I missed any, please let me know.

Summary:

Author’s Note: So I modified it a little bit in the age department. I saw the reader as a 18 or 19 year old when I started writing. I hope everything else is okay. Also, I apologize to everyone who has requested prompts to me. Things have been more difficult than I thought recently and caused me to have a delay in all of my writing.

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces (All Works, Specific Fandoms, or Specific Multi-Parts), please let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Let me also add that I hope you all are okay. If you ever need a friendly conversation or need someone, please talk to me. I would hate to know that something bad is going on in your life and I can’t do anything to help. If you can’t confide in me, please reach out to someone. There are people to help you through any situation. You are not alone. You are loved.

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was no fun and carefree life. There was the constant fear of him coming back injured or dead from a mission. But even through the missions and all of the Avengers stuff, there was nothing like having to be compared to him. He was Tony Stark: Billionaire, Philanthropist, Genius, Iron Man. And then there was you. You were nothing special. You weren’t the top in your class or very social. You were more introverted and couldn’t even really be compared to your father. But that didn’t stop everyone else.

You had been in enough interviews and read enough online to know what people thought of you. It ranged from “Next Iron Man is Possibly Iron Woman?” to “Who Really is (Y/N) Stark?” and everything in between. Most people wanted you to follow in your father’s footsteps and become exactly like him. But you didn’t think you could even if you wanted to.

Yes you wanted to train and be a part of the team, but you also knew you wouldn’t be good at engineering or working in the lab. So what could you really do that would be beneficial? You would just be more of a burden than you thought you were to the team. You tried to stay healthy, and your body was physically good. Your head? Not so much.

After years and years of being compared to the Tony Stark and having all of these expectations thrust upon you, things got overwhelming and you began to question if you were good enough to do anything right. This started the bad thoughts, which led to self harming, which led to adding alcohol into the mix.

There were times when everything got too much and you began to lose your grip on yourself. These were the nights that you would break out your blade that you kept hidden in a band aid container in the back of your bathroom drawer and draw lines over yourself. It started with a few small cuts on your ribs or upper arms or thighs. You could easily hide those. But then you couldn’t resist moving to your lower arms. It felt more lucrative for you. Self harm helped your ground yourself, and you saw it as a form of punishment for not being good enough.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You had gotten too deep into your head again and couldn’t stop the thoughts from racing at you at a 1000 miles per hour. You needed them to stop or at least slow down. To do so, you snuck out to the bar in the living room and snagged a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was 11:30PM, so you didn’t really have to sneak, considering everyone was either asleep, on a mission, or doing work elsewhere. What you didn’t know, was that Friday took stock of what was in the bar. So Tony knew that 7, now 8, bottles of his alcohol were missing. He just didn’t know it was you.

You went back to your room and flipped on the bathroom light. Opening your drawer, you found your blade. You slowly slid down the wall, blade in one hand and the now open bottle of Jack in the other. Taking a very large swig, you felt the liquor burn your throat on the way down. Sighing, you take the blade and drag it across your arm, letting the blood slowly rise up and out.

This went on for another 30 minutes or so. Drink, cut, drink, drink, cut, cut and so on. You were about a ⅓ of the way through the bottle of Jack Daniels and finally felt yourself getting numb. Numbness felt like asylum for you. Your cuts stung a little bit, but for the most part, you felt numb and slower. You could breathe. You were still crying a bit, but it wasn’t hyperventilating, anxiety induced crying. Just a few slow tears taking their time crawling down your cheeks.

You were so out of it and focused on your breathing that you didn’t hear your door open or your dad whisper out to you. He had been working late in the lab and decided to check on you before he went to bed. He saw that you were more tired than usual lately, so he wanted to make sure you were actually sleeping okay. When he didn’t see you in bed, he saw the bathroom light on and gently walked towards the door. He didn’t hear any noise, so he decided to knock.

“You okay in there, sweetheart?” He heard you kind of fumbling around in there after he spoke.

“Jesus, dad! You gave me a fuckin heart attack! Yes, I’m fine, just... please go.” He knew you weren’t fine. He could tell when you were lying, even without looking at you. There was a few seconds of silence. He couldn’t let this slide, something wasn’t right. He had an awful feeling in his gut.

“Are you decent?”

“What do you mean?” You were confused. Your brain wasn’t really all there. You weren’t shitfaced drunk, but you were pretty loosey-goosey.

“Are you dressed?” You looked down at your arm and thighs where you had at least a dozen or more small lines scattered around your skin. You didn’t really think clearly before responding.

“I mean, yeah. But I don’t want you to come in.” You slurred your words a little bit, but you thought it would go unnoticed by your dad. Unfortunately for you, he heard.

“Too bad. I’m coming in.” You shot up in panic. 

Quickly capping the bottle of Jack, you tried to get up and hold the bathroom door closed, but Tony was quicker and stronger. It also didn’t help that you were not only unstable from the alcohol, but you always were a little light headed after self harming. So when you stood up to get the door, you ended up having to lean on the sink for support until Tony came in.

What he saw when he opened the door shattered his heart more than he thought possible. 

You were in one of your favorite thinner sweaters and shorts, but you were bleeding. He saw all of the lines and the streaks of blood that came from a few of them, some of them already coagulated. You were leaning against the sink because you couldn’t stand easily. There were bloody tissues on the floor next to one of his bottles of Jack Daniels and a blade. He quickly put all of this together.

“Sweetheart…” He said. You felt more tears coming, but you didn’t want him to see you so weak. 

You tried to take a couple steps forward and push him out of your bathroom, but pushing him was like pushing a brick wall. Nothing happened. It didn’t help that your legs were insanely wobbly. As soon as you touched your dad, your legs started to give out. 

“Woah! Hey! I gotcha. Let’s just sit you down here.”

Thank god for Tony’s quick reflexes. He caught you and sat you on your bathroom counter while he inspected the cuts.

They varied from thin and not deeper than a paper cut, to two very nasty looking ones on your right thigh. They weren’t gushing blood or anything, but they were big and deep. He was just thankful they weren’t near a vein or else this could have ended deadly. He grabbed one of your washcloths and dampened it.

“This is gonna sting, but I-- we need to put pressure on this until I can get you to Banner.” He warned. Before you could complain in response, he put the washcloth on the bad cuts on your leg. You had to grab his arm because it stung so bad. You kind of liked the pain, but not the circumstance.

“I need you to hold that there, okay honey?” You felt faint. You were overwhelmed, in pain, and really didn’t want to be in this situation right now. But you nodded your head anyways. Tony took one of your hands and put it on the washcloth, pushing down a bit to try to stop the bleeding from getting worse.

“Friday!” Tony yelled, surely waking up some of the team.

“Yes, Mr.Stark?”

“Wake up Banner and tell him to meet me in the lab with his med kit. It’s an emergency.”

“Absolutely, Mr.Stark.”

Before you could fully understand what was going on, Tony gently grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding the washcloth down and wrapped it around his neck while he lifted you up bridal style. As quickly and gingerly as possible, he made his way out of your room and towards the elevator.

When the two of you got out in the hallway, there were a few others gathered around wondering what was going on. They didn’t really understand what was happening until they saw the bloody rag on your leg and how scared Tony looked. Tony didn’t pay attention to them until Steve starts to walk alongside Tony.

“What the heck happened? We just heard you yell for Friday and (Y/N) crying a bit.”

“Later, Rogers. She needs stitches, now. I’m on my way to meet Banner in the lab. I’ll fill everyone in when she is safe.” Steve knew to back off then. Tony was never this freaked out, so that was one indicator. But the he also never used Steve’s name unless it was serious.

Steve helped Tony in the elevator by pressing the button for the floor that the lab was on, and then left, so you two had some privacy. You couldn’t help the tears that were trickling down your face. You felt so stupid and like a huge disappointment. You had your face in your dad’s neck while you tried to get your breathing back to normal.

“I-- I’m sorry, dad. I just… I--” You couldn’t get out much more than that. Even if you could, you had no idea what to say to him. How to explain to him that his daughter is a mess.

“Shh. It’s okay, baby. Bruce is going to fix you up and then we are both going to get some much needed sleep. Alright? Just stay awake with me for a bit longer. Okay?” You knew he was trying to be strong for you, but you could hear a little waiver in his voice as if he was trying to hold back tears. You nod, he leans down and kisses your forehead, and then you dig your face back into his neck.

He just sighs and tries to calm himself. You are going to be okay. You are going to be safe. He loves you too damn much to see this get any worse.

Tags: @goodnightwife @marvelous-imagining @avengersimaginings

[never-to-be-homeless]

To Dean, this is Evans. We've never spoken before, but here we are. Today was the first truly crappy day I've had in a long time, and I've forgotten how to cope. I used to feel either numb or angry every day, and had ways to survive until the next day, but I've moved on from that phase in my life. I moved out, got a job, live with my boyfriend that I love dearly. Everything's been going pretty well. This past week I've been stressed from working more than usual, I've got a new job (Evans, 1)

so I've been working both jobs this week. I'm getting burned out. I had a really great day yesterday at a concert, but I didn't get enough rest on my day off to deal with today, tomorrow, and Saturday being long days. Today I had really grating people to deal with, so I was already annoyed at just the littlest things. I felt like my boyfriend wasn't listening as I tried to explain why I was agitated, yet proclaimed he wasn't deaf when I got a bit shrill. We didn't have any clean towels. I realized AFTER taking a shower of course. I feel like I'm the only one who's done the chores around the house, and to be fair my boyfriend looks long hours and is a bit of a workaholic. I knew that when I moved in, and I'm still okay with it. I think what really is the stem of why I'm upset is b/c he was complaining that we needed to watch a TV show (that I had lost interest in) b/c it was taking up space on the DVR. I told him to watch it without me. He grumbled about how he was waiting on me to watch it with him, and how I "had more time to watch TV" than he did. It was pretty innocuous, but it's just set me off to be upset for the whole rest of the night. I've been working myself to the bone, I've barely seen him this past week because of our conflicted schedules, and I didn't have clean dishes or towels. But I have more time to watch TV than he does. I work in retail, and he's always voiced that it isn't hard. It isn't. That being said it isn't exactly a walk in the park. I have to deal with the mass populace, and being an introvert I get mentally exhausted from it faster. I feel like he was belittling what I do, which isn't huge in the grand scheme of things, but I still work hard everyday. Don't I deserve to want to flop onto my couch and re-read Harry Potter after a bad day? But I have all that time to watch TV. To try to be coherent in this stream of consciousness, I've been nitpicking that phrase. I tried to relax in our bedroom, after doing some laundry, and read for a few hours with relaxing music. But it didn't help, I ended up crying at an unexpectedly sad part of my book and couldn't stop. I feel like a rubber band being stretched, about to snap. I'm having racing thoughts, bad thoughts. The ones who tell me I'll never be thin enough (despite being 150 lbs and going to the gym regularly). Never good enough. I won't do anything important. The ones that tell me just to die. I'll drink a cup of tea, distract myself for a few hours, and inevitably fall asleep. I won't sleep well, and I'll be set up for a long, tiring, and irritable day tomorrow. The cycle will be reborn again, and I don't want it to. I've been mostly happy (is anybody ever truly happy?) and staring into the void is terrifying. I don't know how to express myself to people, I try and nobody seems to get it. I feel like I'm speaking a different language. Any wisdom would be helpful. Thank you, Evans.

Hey there sweetheart, s’Dean. Sorry ‘bout how long it took me to reply.

It looks to me like you need to have a serious conversation with your boyfriend about how you’re feelin’. I know you’ve tried already, but from what you said, you tried in the middle of an already heated argument. Instead of bringin’ it up when emotions are already kinda high, try doing it on a day when you’re both relatively calm and at ease. Maybe over dinner or somethin’ like that. Make sure you’re both relaxed, and then tell your boyfriend, “Hey, there’s something I really need to talk to you about, and I need you to just not say anything until I’m done talking. I really need you to listen with no interruptions.”

Then start talkin’, as calm as you can, about how you’re feelin’ stressed. Tell him you appreciate him workin’ so much to provide for the pair of you, but that you wish he could maybe spend a little more time at home to help you out with the chores. Explain how your job drains you emotionally and how much you’d like it if he would have a couple things done when you got home from work (if that’s a possibility, I dunno what your work schedules are) so that you don’t have to stress out both about work stuff and chores. And last, but not least, explain to him why you’re so upset by the idea he has that you have more time to watch TV than he does.

I can’t promise that he’ll completely understand, or be happy with everything you’re sayin’, but the key to a healthy relationship is communication, so that’s the first step. Hopefully, he’ll be able to take a step back from his own point of view and be able to see where you’re comin’ from, and be willin’ to help you out with some stuff. As for the bad thoughts, make sure to check out our resources page for helpful tips and suggestions.

Remembers, Evans, I’m always here to talk to if you need me. I’m more than happy to help.

Always,Dean