#anyway. dying to talk about them always if anyone wants to encourage my insanity...

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Aerie, I love your OC's so much! I have a few questions about them if you don't mind.

How does Rayne feed? Does he eventually drink from Elliot? How does that conversation go?

TWT Thank you!! And of course I don't mind!!! I'm literally vibrating in my seat every time I get to talk about them. Thank you so much for asking!<3<3<3 Warning, it's long again. Oops. :')

About Rayne feeding:

When Rayne was first changed, Laurent brought him hunting and the whole thing freaked him out a lot. When Laurent caught a man for them to share, Rayne couldn't do it. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Laurent thought his nervousness was cute, but couldn't let him starve. So he held out his own wrist and let Rayne drink from him instead. (So basically, Rayne would use Laurent as a SillyStraw- emphasis on 'silly' because the man loses his mind later on lol- instead of drinking directly from people.)

After a few months, Laurent tells him that he's got to learn to hunt for himself and Rayne does. It takes almost all night but catches someone and doesn't know when to stop. When Laurent finds him, Rayne is having a mental breakdown. Rayne does not eat humans after that. Only from Laurent.

So, nearly the entire time he's with Laurent, Rayne feeds that way. He drinks from Laurent. Laurent's blood (the blood of a vampire who is much older than him) is like… Top Shelf. It's delicious and also blood-sharing between vampires is basically foreplay so like… Yay. : )

When he leaves his SillyStraw behind, Rayne figures blood is blood. He eats animals. It's nowhere near as good. But it works fine. When he's in the city he finds rats. When he's really hungry he'll drive until he finds a forest and take a deer. Or a fox. Or three. He usually he tries to avoid eating anything that could be considered someone's pet, like cats and dogs. But... desperate times...

Does Rayne drink from Elliot?

After some Laurent-flavored fuckery occurs, Rayne is terrified of leaving Elliot alone in the apartment. So he can't go out for a bite. After a few days, Elliot can't stand it. "Babe, it's been a week. You need to go eat." "I can't." "I'll be fine. Everything's alright-" Rayne just shakes his head, like a stubborn child. (But Rayne has OCD- the magical thinking kind, just like me 🙃we suffer together- and the last time he left Elliot alone, he got hurt. He can't risk it.) After a moment of standing there, watching Rayne's hands shake from across the room, Elliot sits down next to him and the vampire stiffens from head to toe. Stops breathing. E: You can't leave the house? R: I can't leave the house. E: What if I stood in the hallway while you were gone? Then I wouldn't be in the apartment by myself. R: No. He still knows where we live. E: What if I leave before you? I could go pick up food for later. R: Then you'd be alone. E: Let me go hunting with you. R: (laughs) No. E: Then drink from me. R: Have you lost your mind? E: If it's starvation or eating me, it's eating me. R: I won't. E: Please. I don't like watching you hurt yourself. Don't like you hungry. R: I could kill you. E: You won't. I saw you let a deer go once. If you can let some dumb deer go, you can let your boyfriend go. Right? R: I have a feeling you'd taste a lot better than a bloody deer. E: Come on. Let me help. Pretend it's the same as me cooking for you. R: (rolls his eyes) Producing blood isn't cooking. E: I said pretend. R: Elliot- E, whispering: If you keep starving yourself, you might lose it and end up eating me anyway. I'd rather be a willing snack than a helpless victim. R: (realizes he's right) E: What do you want, my neck? (moves his shirt collar to the side) R: (swallows thickly and shakes his head) Wrist. E: Wrist it is.

And then he watches Rayne's fangs drop out of his gums and sink into his skin, the vampire's eyelids fluttering when he pulls in that first mouthful of blood. The first human blood he's had in fourteen years. Rayne's eyes glow as he drinks and Elliot can't say he doesn't like the feeling of being drank from.

After a moment, Rayne pulls away with a gasp and his eyes settle back to that dark blue Elliot's used to. And Elliot smiles, "Am I better than a deer?"

ALSO, Rayne still eats regular ol' food too! He doesn't know how to cook though. Before Elliot comes along, he lives on take away. He keeps a binder in a kitchen drawer stuffed with takeout menus in sheet protectors. (It is amazingly organized, by cuisine and then by alphabetical order. His favorite things from each restaurant are carefully highlighted so that he doesn't forget.)

[luimagines]

It’s late. I should be asleep. *promptly types this in your inbox* For the Vai Clothes Anons, our dear beloved mod; Pinky and for every Twilight Simp out there. *blows kiss* Ignore all the copious self indulgence.

He hadn’t meant to. He really really really hadn’t meant to.

It all started with those awful wonderful vai clothes Wild had lent out. He hadn’t known you were changing behind that tree, he swears. All he knew was you were standing behind the tree, there was a brief rustle of fabric and a flash of skin before he whipped his head away from you so fast, his neck cracked.

“Wolfie? Are you ok?” He’d barely heard you ask, mind too occupied by the flash of soft skin he’d seen.

He shook his head and planted himself with his back to you to give you privacy. It was an accident, was all. No need to get worked up.

Later, Twilight would pin point that moment as the exact moment Hylia or Farore or some other deity had decided to take notice of his embarrassment and laugh.

———

The next time he saw more of you than you intended was when it was just you and him in wolf form. Monster guts had spilt all over your tunic and you plucked at it in disgust. Twilight had been too busy sniffing the air to really take any concern over it when he heard more fabric slid and a wet thump.

He turned his head on instinct and found you with both your over tunic and under tunic off and miles of soft, delicate skin on display for him. He could see the muscle move as you crouched over you bag and pulled out another set of tunics. You looked up and grinned at him.

Twilight felt faint as you approached him and ruffled the fur between his ears.

“Well done. You are such a good boy. Just let me put this on and we’ll go find the others. I bet you don’t want a super stinky friend travelling with you.” You said, a soft coo in your voice.

It took all the strength he had to turn away from the bare belly right in front of his nose and pretend to be interested in a tree as you put your tunics back on.

He had to take some very deep breaths and didn’t make eye contact with you that night when he was back on two legs.

———

The third time was his own fault admittedly. Twilight had gotten distracted with playing in the shallows of a slow river while taking a moment to himself. It was nice travelling in a group but he needed a minute or two to himself every so often as they all did.

“Having fun, lovely?” An amused voice called out and he nearly tripped over his own paws when he saw you with your boots off nearby.

Once recovered, he barked happily and splashed some more in the shallows. He was just a happy Wolfie right now. Nothing to see here, nope. (He knew none of the others in the know would ever let him live it but it was making you smile and that was enough.)

Just as he got deep enough to cover his legs without going swimming, he was suddenly splashed from an unexpected source.

Snapping his fangs in surprise, he turned to face whatever it was and was once again greeted with soft bare skin. Only this time the only thing he couldn’t see was the really important bits still covered by your underwear.

Oh sweet Farore, grant him strength. You were in your underwear.

You laughed, bright and loud, and he swore the sun grew brighter for it. But still that was a lot of skin.

You splashed him again and Twilight prayed he could focus on the emerging splash fight and less on the fact he could see exactly how much the sparring practice with the others was effecting you.

He barely spoke to you that night.

———

The last time was the final straw. You had gone missing for half an hour and while Time hadn’t been worried, merely giving his protégé a smug look, Twilight had shifted and gone looking for you.

Big mistake. Big big big mistake.

He found you.

You were fine. Perfectly fine!

You were also very very very naked.

Naked and wet.

Did he mention you were naked?

Of course most people are naked and wet when they bathe. That’s how it done.

But you were very very naked and that was a lot of bare skin and he’s never seen your hair flat like that and oh Hylia, kill him now, was that your-

“Wolfie!” You cried in glee.

Twilight startled so hard, he tripped on his paws and fell into the little pond with you. There was a moment of shock and water before strong arms wrapped themselves around him and helped him back on to the bank.

“Wolfie?! Are you okay, lovely? It’s okay. It’s okay.” Hands ran down his back as he hacked up the small amount of water he’d inhaled. He looked up and choked again. You were out of the water, on full display and looking very worried.

Twilight made the tactical decision there and then. He ran back to camp and refused to speak to anyone for the rest of the day.

———

You were ignoring him. He’d hadn’t notice for a few days, but the image of you bathing was just starting to fade and he felt like he could actually talk to you again without that being his first thought when he’d finally noticed you not making eye contact.

You avoided him for the whole day, ducking into other conversations and weaving though the group. You even risked egging an argument with Legend to avoid him and that’s when Twilight realised.

You knew.

———

“Can I talk to you?” It took Twilight all the courage he had (and some not so little encouragement from Wild, Time and Warriors of all people) and spoke to you that night.

You blinked up at him startled, your bright eyes shining from the lamplight. Eyes that adverted quickly.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Privately. Please.” He clenched his fists, opening and closing them nervously.

The movement caught your eye and you reluctantly got to your feet, trailing after him out of the inn they were stay at in the middle of nowhere and behind the building that backed into the forest. It was a full moon and clear so he could still see your face.

You both stood in silence before you opened your mouth. “Twi, wha-“

I am so sorry!!!” He burst out. He couldn’t take it any more. He hadn’t meant to and now you’d figured it out and thought he was a pervert! (A part of him wondered why it was the pervert thing the worried him more than the shadow magic discovery thing).

You jumped. “What?”

He buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to happen! I swear! I tried to look away and give you privacy each time!”

You frowned in confusion and you reached out to pull his hands away from his face. “What are you-“

“The fact I saw you naked! I saw you bathing and that time with the monsters and the vai clothes and when we had a splash fight and you were naked and I saw.” He let you pull his hands away only to run it through his hair and tug on it.

You froze. “Twilight. The only one who was there for all that was Wolfie. How’d you… Sweet Courage! You’re Wolfie?!??”

Twilight froze as well as you gaped at him. Ah. “You didn’t know?”

“No!”

Twilight swallowed heavily. So you hadn’t avoided him cause you found out he was Wolfie. Not that that mattered any more cause you did now.

“I’m sorry.” He said weakly. You just stared at him. “I really am! It’s just you were alway so happy to see me and I like your smile and your really attractive and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that no matter how much I liked looking and, oh Farore that makes it sound worse and I just really like…” he started to ramble, the words just spilling all over the place as he foolishly confessed every though he’d had about you from your utterly adorable bed head to the way you smiled to your wonderful personality.

Eventually, you pressed a hand over his mouth. “So you’re Wolfie.”

He nodded. Goddesses he hoped you could still be friends. He’d had his heart broken once, twice would be fine. He’d be fine.

“You liked seeing me naked.”

Again he nodded. He slumped down. There was no way you’d want to stay friends with him now. Who’d want to be friends with a pervert anyway?

The hand moved from his mouth, trailing lightly across his lips, down his neck and rested on his collar. He looked up and saw determination written all over your face with a dark look in your eyes.

“Well then. I hope you don’t mind if the reverse happens at some point.” You plucked daringly at the collar. “After all, I want to see if my dreams were right about you.” It wasn’t darkness in your eyes, it was heat.

Heat Twilight felt fill his own expression as his confidence soared. His hands carefully rested on your waist and he felt the soft skin he’d been dying to sink his teeth into ever since that day with the vai clothes.

“Oh and Twi.”

He was a little focused on the fact you’d slipped his hands over his shoulders and were squeezing them.

Your expression softened although the heat stayed. “I like you too.”

He couldn’t help himself and pulled you flush against him, growling.

Your eyes blew wide with heat and surprise. You pressed firmly against him and started breathing heavily as you clutched his biceps and oh, this was going to be fun.

I have no words.

Insanity.

Truly.

You've killed me.

[violetwolfraven]

Modern!Wormsies Headcanons because I’m terrified wormsies is going to die before 2021 gets here

Tw for mild horror. I don’t think this is that bad but read at your own risk. I don’t l know why I created it I just felt compelled to but don’t read it unless you’re as insane as I am and are fully prepared to read the most cursed thing I have ever created. Seriously. This is by far the most cursed thing I have ever written. Good luck. 💜

So anyway they’re not selling to survive obviously since it’s modern au.

In my modern au they’re all theatre nerds cause why not.

So they’re backstage one day and Race finds this blue thing behind an old set that has probably been there for several years.

Lo and behold, it is a worm on a string.

And Race is kinda weirded out and wondering who left it there but he’s like aight guess I’m keeping this thing.

He ties it to a strap on his backpack and forgets about it for the rest of rehearsal.

Then Romeo (one of Race’s 3 adoptive brothers, the others being Jack and Crutchie) notices it and f l i p s o u t.

Romeo drags over Specs and Jack and Crutchie to show them the worm Race found and they’re all like omg this is the best thing we’ve ever seen.

Race is still kinda confused but like hey whatever this might as well happen and he just figures if his brothers and his little brother’s boyfriend are gonna obsess over worms, why not join in?

They all get worms somehow. Romeo gets a green one, Specs gets a purple one, Jack gets a dark blue one, and Crutchie gets a yellow one.

When they all show up to rehearsal a few days later with worms, a few others pick up on it and are like lmao let’s join in on the insanity.

So anyway Albert gets a red one, Smalls gets a green one, Mike gets a purple one, Ike gets a yellow one cause it’s the opposite of purple, and Elmer gets a green one.

All the others are all kinda just whatever do what you want don’t involve us in your insanity.

BUT THEN

Over the course of the next couple weeks, only a couple more people join in on getting worms.

Sniper gets a purple one and Finch gets an orange one.

But what’s strange is that everybody starts noticing...

The kids with worms pick up choreography...

Faster and Better...

Than the kids without worms...

They’re stretchier and more agile...

...almost like..?

Almost like...

They...

don’t...

have...

spines..?

They wiggle just like their worms wiggle wiggle wiggle.

And Specs is the most logical of the ones with worms but even he fully believes his worm gives him special powers.

They spend their snack breaks talking about this and a few more people decide to get in on it.

Jojo gets a yellow one, Mush gets a dark blue one, and Blink gets a light blue one.

Davey, Spot, and Katherine still refuse to believe in this.

Sarah got a pink worm and they were all terribly disappointed in her.

But anyway they hold out their lack of belief despite how the kids with worms continue to perform better in dance numbers than the few left without.

Kenny caves and gets a dark blue one somewhere in here.

There are now a lot more kids with worms than kids without and the holidays are rolling around.

Ike gets Hotshot a red worm and Hotshot in turn gets red worms for all his crowd on the stage crew (Bart, Rafaela, Joey, Hildy, York, and Vince).

Hell, even the crew kids perform better with worms, it turns out.

Cause they can run fast to get places they need to be and squeeze through spaces they shouldn’t be able to squeeze through.

But anyway Katherine and Davey and Spot are starting to get a little creeped out.

Cause their friends and partners are starting to act more and more like they’re in a cult, even more than the cult that they’re already in (the drama club).

They pretend their worms have fucking personalities and make tiny hats for them and stuff.

And the ones left without worms are dropping like flies and getting assimilated to the other side.

Buttons gets a light blue one, Tommy Boy gets a pink one, Henry gets an orange one, and

And Sarah gets Les a green worm.

That’s kinda the last straw for Davey.

He fucking waits until his siblings are asleep and he throws their worms in the trash.

But mysteriously

They both have their worms back in time for rehearsal.

And Davey gets home that night and there’s a light blue worm waiting on his pillow.

He throws it away but it’s tied to his backpack strap the next day.

He flushes it down the toilet and it shows up in his favorite hoodie pocket.

He tells Katherine and Spot, super freaked out, but they don’t really believe him cause there’s no such thing as magic worms... right?

Then Katherine finds a purple worm on the seat she usually sits in during breaks.

She’s moderately creeped out so she leaves it there and goes to a different seat but the next break the worm is on that seat.

She can’t remember seeing anyone move it.

Meanwhile Spot is making out with Race behind a curtain (obviously) and Race

Race fucking pulls a red worm out of his sleeve like a scarf trick and gives it to him.

Spot is super weirded out by this and wants to just throw the dumb thing away the minute he and Race are done making out, but he just...

He can’t.

He can’t get rid of the worm, so he ties it to his backpack.

Katherine and Davey are mildly horrified that Spot has given in and won’t give up his worm even though you’re encouraging their cult-like behavior, Spot, come on.

Spot insists that he could throw away his worm if he wanted to, he just... doesn’t want to. And besides, he can keep up with the others on theatre stuff now, so why would he?

So Kath and Davey are

The

Last

Ones

Left

Without worms.

Davey’s worm is still following him around but he refuses to give in and he always gets rid of it as soon as he finds it but it always pops up again.

Katherine’s shows up less frequently, but it starts getting more and more frequent and she starts getting more and more freaked out as one night, she goes into her room and that fucking purple worm is on her pillow.

None of her friends have been to her house in the last 24 hours so this development is fucking terrifying.

She calls Davey and flips out on the phone to him about it and he’s trying to calm her down but Sarah ends up stealing his phone after a few minutes because she’s my girlfriend, Davey, not yours.

When Davey gets the phone back, Katherine is significantly calmer. He asks her if she threw the worm away.

She

Didn’t

Throw the worm away.

She claims it’s fine, that they might as well give in, Davey, we’re the last ones left without worms, just out of stubbornness. And anyway our friends with worms are doing fine; look at your siblings if you need proof.

Sarah and Les are having a tea party with their worms and Davey is getting pretty scared at this point.

He’s the last one left without a worm, though that blue one still always seems to show up wherever he is.

Until

Opening night

Of

Their

Show

Afterwards everybody’s pumped up and ready to go to Applebee’s to celebrate and Davey is relieved because no one has mentioned worms in the last 24 hours or even really looked at the ones still tied to their backpacks.

He thinks maybe the others got bored with it and this thing is finally dying, especially since that damn light blue worm hasn’t showed up today either.

But then Davey is just sharing a nice coffee alone with Jack backstage (which he hasn’t done since the worm thing started because honestly his boyfriend was creeping him out).

Jack suddenly starts crying, and Davey’s all like hey what is it? Babe look at me what’s wrong?

And Jack just goes I’m sorry love I know it hurts now but it’s better in the long run trust me.

That’s when Elmer, Specs, Sarah, and Mush burst in behind them and grab Davey, shoving a bag over his head and dragging him somewhere.

When the bag is taken off of Davey’s head, he’s tied to a chair in the middle of a choir room that all his friends have somehow squeezed into.

They’re all holding their worms.

And Davey is like guys if this is an elaborate prank it wasn’t even that funny to begin with but now it is very very much not funny.

But Sarah just goes in a sad tone it’s not a prank Davey.

Les not looking like he’s trying not to laugh is what makes Davey believe it’s not a prank.

And Davey is legitimately terrified at this point because even Spot and Katherine are looking at him with a solemn kind of pity and when he asks them for help they just shake their heads and tell him everything will be okay.

He turns to Jack and is still clinging to that last little bit of hope that one of the people he loves might not have gone off the deep end.

That last little bit of hope that the boy he loves is still the boy I fell for. I know you’re still in there so please just untie me Jackie.

Jack looks like he’s trying not to cry but he doesn’t move.

Instead he says I love you Davey. It’ll all be over soon.

Do it, Race.

Race steps forward and Davey just about has a heart attack because

He’s

Holding

That

Goddamn

Light blue

Worm

And he takes some rainbow duct tape out of his pocket and tapes it to Davey’s shirt.

And the others all start chanting one of us one of us one of us as Davey can practically feel the spine leave his body and travel to another dimension where there’s a man who collects them.

It turns out the others were right that he should just give in.

Now it’s time for them to get the rest of the school.

Edit: here is my attempt to justify myself for this. 💜

[twokinkybeans]

Soulmates Aren’t Real - Soulmate!AU

Summary: Seven years ago, a “study” found that people who get incredibly close to death, meet their soulmate in their minds. People described them as an angel in the darkness, a light at the end of the tunnel. The idea alone made Tony want to hurl. It’s stupid. Bullshit. Soulmates aren't real.

Sure, Tony zapped himself every now and then. Occupational hazard. But as of yet, he hasn’t come close enough to death to object the study with facts. And though he is a curious man by nature, he’s not that curious. His "soulmate" will show up on their own time. And if they don’t? They don’t. Whatever. Tony can tinker all he likes. He’s content in his lab. Even if it’s a little quiet sometimes...

-

Or: Every time Tony nearly dies in the MCU canon, he sees and talks with Peter (who ages appropriately - aka during Iron Man 1, Peter is 6 years old, etc etc etc). It’s a little Cinderella like, if you ask me, aha!

-

Author’s note: Hi everyone! This started as a small idea that I just wanted to get out of my brain. Took me two Saturdays to write and it's barely edited, aha. I hope you enjoy it, though! <3 -Lien

Words: 3589

Warnings/tags: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate!AU, Mentions of death (a lot), Mentions of attempted near-suicide, read this however you like, I wrote this as Irondad.

Read Soulmates Aren’t Real on AO3!

   Occasionally, Tony wonders how much he resembles Sherlock Holmes. He drinks a lot more than what’s probably healthy and he thinks faster than other people around him. Though, he is of the opinion that everyone deserves a chance, not all deserve kindness. He likes being alone, tinkering, and losing track of the days. He actually enjoys fucking up his sleeping patterns, since it means he’s being productive. He’s in a flow. He’s busy.    Right now, he’s absolutely certain he’s Sherlock Holmes. The only reason being this one single thought that keeps bouncing through his head every time he scoffs and rereads the article in front of him. People are idiots. Tony would love to have a Watson by his side, but unfortunately for him, his soulmate has yet to show their face. Speaking of soulmates, the article is about just that.    Seven years ago, a “study” found that people who get incredibly close to death, meet their soulmate in their minds. People described them as an angel in the darkness, a light at the end of the tunnel. The idea alone made Tony want to hurl. It’s stupid. Bullshit. Soulmates aren't real. Those people who cheated death claim that some rando they meet is the one they saw when they nearly died. That they belong together. People cheated over this, saying that the person they saw when they died looked nothing like their current partner, or maybe like another friend. The study ripped apart tons of marriages and while that’s partially why Tony thinks people are idiots, there is another reason. The reason that is in the article he’s reading.    Death therapy. Jesus Christ, who even came up with that shit? More and more people want to know who their soulmate is. If who they are with now is the right person. If they will ever meet them. If they already lost them. And so, they try to almost die. Drug abuse, waterboarding, even playing with electrical equipment and guns. Idiots. People are idiots. And this whole article is about some kind of soulmate cult where groups of twenty all try to get as close to death as they can just so they can get a glimpse of what their soulmate looks like. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.    The people who organize those things are predators, aiming to get as much money out of people as they possibly can. Let them sign wavers that if they do die, which happens ninety percent of the time, the cult can’t be held accountable. Death rates have risen significantly since the study came out and it’s insane. Soulmates don’t exist and nearly dying for the sake of having a looksie at the true love of your life is psychotic. A money-grab, to scam people who are extremely gullible. And oh, boy, are there many gullible people on this hell of an earth. If only they knew all this crap was fake. So many innocent lives would be spared.    Sure, Tony zapped himself every now and then. Occupational hazard. But as of yet, he hasn’t come close enough to death to object the study with facts. And though he is a curious man by nature, he’s not that curious. His Watson will show up on their own time. And if they don’t? They don’t. Whatever. Tony can tinker all he likes. He’s content in his lab. Even if it’s a little quiet sometimes... ...    Afghanistan. The deal was supposed to be the greatest Tony had ever shook hands on. And then everything went to shit. The missile. The explosion. Darkness. And then a fuck ton of pain, clawing at his chest. He could hear someone screaming but he wasn’t sure who. Was it… Was he screaming? God, it hurt. Ached. Burned. Scratched. He was gasping for air and he wasn’t sure if his body could hold out any longer- if he could hold out any longer.    “Hello, there? Sir?” A small voice asks. Tony gasps and writhes, turning on his stomach before crawling up to be met with a boy. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. Cute. “Are you okay? Mister?” Tony brings his hand to his chest in an attempt to feel where the horrific pain is- was? It’s gone. He’s fine. When did that happen? Is he… Is he dying? Or is he already dead?   “Hey, there, kid,” he sighs, somehow grateful that the hell he was in has passed. He doesn’t exactly want the child to be part of his panic, so he takes a glance at his seemingly infinite surroundings and casually asks his question. “Where are your parents?” The boy looks around, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows. He then turns to stare at Tony with his big eyes.   “I dunno.” Tony moves so that he’s at eye level with the boy and studies him.        It’s only then that it dawns on him that… Oh, God. Nope. No, this isn’t real. It’s stupid and fake and there’s no way this little kid could be his soulmate. It’s just his dying brain, giving him something to work with before he vanishes into nothingness. Normally, he wouldn’t get anywhere near children. They were quite the liability and honestly the epitome of contrast to his bombostuous life. His biggest fear has always been one of his bed partners showing up on his doorstep, carrying a baby. His baby. He has no time for that. Or well, had. Since it’s his last moments alive, he might as well indulge the imaginary kid.        “How old are you?” The boy thinks for a second and then looks at his hands. He raises one, fingers stretched out, and then the other; just a thumbs up.   “Six!”   “Six?” Tony smiles. “That’s a big number.”  “Mhm!” The boy nods aggressively. “Need two hands now.” He waves his little fist around and grins. He then looks down at his hands and looks back up. “How many hands do you need?”   “A couple more than you do, kid,” Tony scoffs.   “So, you’re like, really old?” Ugh. Kids.   “Old enough to be your dad.”   “You’re not, though!”   “Thank God, no.”        Tony sits down on his butt and pats the floor next to him.   “Mind doing me a favor, kid?” The boy sits down next to him and pulls in his legs, resting his head on top of them. “Depends, Mister. I’m not actually allowed to talk to strangers.” He thinks for a second and then continues. “And you’re about as strange as it gets.”   “Is that a compliment?” Tony chuckles.   “Depends on who you ask.” The reply has Tony scoff a laugh, louder, and he throws his head back This kid…         “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” The boy doesn’t reply. Instead, he hides his face to laugh himself. “So, the favor...” Tony starts, trying to get back the boy’s attention.  “Hm?”   “Just… Be kind, okay? If you really are out there… Life’s too short to-”        Tony opens his eyes, confused. He takes a second to assess his location. He’s lying on something hard and uncomfortable and there’s this dull, continuous ache in his chest. He groans when he realizes… Guess I’m not dying anytime soon.         ...    He was terrifically wrong about that. The organization that put him and Yinsen in that cave were absolute monsters. Tony knew better than to struggle a dozen men with big guns unarmed, but when they brought him to the trough with water, he fought nonetheless. His head was pushed in. His body convulsed and though his brain was telling him to stay calm and simply hold his breath, he kept fighting the aggression from his captors. It wasn’t long before he saw flashes again. Of the same boy.        “Mister?” The voice was muffled through the water in Tony’s ears. He wanted to yell at the boy, to look away from the trauma and ensure his safety, but whenever the kid became clear enough in his mind’s eye, he was pulled from the water for air, and then pushed back in, to start the process all over again…        Nobody was to know. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about this… Unnamed boy in his lucid dream. Nothing happened. He didn’t even say what his captors did to him, though with the arc reactor now glowing in his chest, people assumed the worst. If they asked him whether or not he saw someone, his answer was always the same.   “No.”        Tony regretted not asking the kid for his name, but then, everything would’ve become too personal anyways. And soulmates aren't real. Even though Tony had seen the boy on multiple occasions at this point. He should just stop almost dying, to be honest. Though, with his new job as Iron Man, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off on that. He ignored the boy’s worried touch on his thigh when he was paralyzed after his ex-business partner/mentor ripped out his new heart. He tried to tune out the encouraging words as he crawled down to his lab to push the old one back in. The boy was only a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t be real. He. Isn’t. Real.   ...      Palladium poisoning. Great stuff. You know what’s even greater? Being haunted by the ghost of an eleven-year-old. Tony never got close enough to death to even be able to say hi to the kid and he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed. The boy was still smaller than average. Clumsy, even. His glasses were cute, though. Red and gold. Iron Man themed. Adorable. He squeezed his eyes, trying to look through them. Maybe they were the wrong prescription?        The first time Tony saw him was when he was in the bathroom. In true horror-style fashion, the nerdy boy appeared in the mirror. When Tony yelped and turned, the kid was gone. He then appeared for a brief moment on the side of the road when Tony was racing the Formula One. The billionaire nearly crashed his car when he did his double take. From then on, everywhere Tony went, the oblivious boy would be by his side. Not being dead enough to talk to the kid, also meant he wasn’t dead enough for the kid to see him. It was torturous to see the boy play and learn and grow without being able to be a part of it. Funnily enough, Tony still didn’t like children. He just… He liked the boy. And no, it wasn’t because the kid was his soulmate. Soulmates aren't real.     ...    Tony was certain flying the nuke into the wormhole would be a one way trip. He’d see the boy one last time, maybe even be able to say goodbye and satiate his need to know the boy’s name, before he’d kick the bucket. At least he’d die peacefully, knowing he stopped an alien war on earth and therefore protected the boy. Twelve. He should be twelve now. Why Tony even bothered to remember the kid’s age, he didn’t know.        “Mr. Stark?” Tony’s vision blurs, the alien spaceship fading to black as his muscles lose tension and his suit gives up on him. He falls. But he doesn’t.   “Yeah, kid, I’m here. For the last time.” Tony frowns as he pulls in his legs, seated on the floor. He sniffs once and looks up to see the boy sitting across from him. “Hopefully.”   “Wait, you want to die?” The question was awfully direct, which makes Tony scoff.   “I’ve seen you so often now…” The barely dead billionaire glances to the side. “That can’t be healthy.” He purses his lips. “Also, the healing process of coming back from the dead is a pain in my butt. Pardon my French.”   “I like seeing you.” The boy fiddles with his fingers and looks down shyly.        “Do you really see me? Like, for real real?”   “I’m dreaming. It feels real, but I don’t talk about it with anyone.” The boy cocks his head and raises his shoulders casually. “I think we both think we’re each other’s imagination.”   “Well, we are, aren’t we?”  “Definitely.” The kid nods aggressively. He crosses his legs and looks at Tony through his long lashes. “Nobody believed me when I said I think you’re my soulmate because I dream about you. Then again, nobody nearly dies as often as you do.” They both chuckle, but the sound quickly fades. “They just think I idolize you a little too much.” The boy frowns and then straightens his back. “I mean, I do idolize you, I- I think you’re a genius! Your papers on Artificial Intelligence are groundbreaking-”   “Kid- you’re twelve, you shouldn’t even be able to read those.”

   “I…” The boy presses his lips on top of each other. “The books I have to read at school are boring.” He almost seems guilty about saying it. “Those papers are filled with big words, though. You understand all of it?” Tony stares at the boy in awe. “I Google things I don’t know, but context usually explains a lot.”     A short, stunned silence settles between the two of them. Tony can barely believe how smart this boy is. He calls Tony a genius, yet he is a genius himself. People who graduated university, specialized in Artificial Intelligence, ask Tony to clarify his papers. So either the boy is messing with him, trying to seem big, or he’s actually incredibly bright. The thought alone makes Tony reminisce about the first time he met the boy, when he still had to use two hands to show Tony how old he was. That was six years ago. Six. He’s fairly certain the boy is a terrible liar, though. And he’s not lying now.     Tony’s eyes open wide, every muscle in his body clenches at the sound of the Hulk’s roar right next to him. There was so much he still wanted to ask the boy. At least he was still alive. Maybe he’ll find him and if not, Tony hopes he’ll near-die again soon. ...     He didn’t expect his own Malibu house crashing down on him and forcing him into the sea to drown being the way he’d go. He’d never been in a worse situation than this. There was no one there to save him. He’d die, never having met his soulmate. Who knows, maybe they’ll meet again in the afterlife, one day. Tony closes his eyes and lets the quiet wash over him as his suit shuts down.     The silence is broken by a quiet sob. The sound brings Tony back to the half-afterlife present and he opens his eyes. The boy is sitting right in front of him again, crying visibly and audibly. “Hey, hey-” Tony moves forward to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” “I don’t want you to die, Mister Stark.” “What makes you think it’s for real this time?” “You just said it yourself,” he sobs. “There’s no one to save you now.” “You heard that?” The boy nods, face twisted. “Well, since I’m still here, I’m not gone yet,” Tony tries with a smile. The boy looks up, tears streaming down his face and shoulders slightly shaking. His red cheeks puff and he sniffs. “We haven’t even met-” The boy squeezes his eyes shut and pushes in, hugging Tony’s chest tightly. The man raises his arms in surprise, but hearing the kid sob, breaks his heart in ways he never thought possible. He embraces the boy and rests his head on top of his. “I can’t lose you too.”     “Too?” Tony’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, trying to remain composed. “M-my parents-” Oh, no. Tony immediately pushes the boy away from his chest and ducks his head, forcing the boy to look in his eyes. “Kid, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’m going to meet you, ‘kay? Give me your name and I’ll find you.” “Promise?” “Promise.” The boy takes a second to collect himself and Tony wipes his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. “My name’s P-”     The second it dawned on Tony that he was still alive, but without the knowledge of the boy’s name, he wanted to cry. And so he did. He was in snowy Tennessee. Many, many miles from home. Who knows, maybe P is somewhere around here? This couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. The boy has to be real. And Tony left him alone. Truly and utterly alone. Just as he is right now. He sobbed quietly as Jarvis shut down. It wasn’t long before he stood up, hugging himself, making the resolute decision that wherever he was, whatever was going to happen, he was going to live. For P. ...     Harley filled up the hole P had left for the short while they spent together. Tony learned to care for him, but it wasn’t the same. All he could think about was the other brown-haired boy in the back of his mind. His soulmate. His P. After the whole Mandarin situation was dealt with, there was no way he could go looking for the now thirteen-year-old without seeming like a creep. P. That was all he knew about him. His name started with a P. First name? Last name? Nothing narrowed it down. He had to let it rest. He simply had to. But he couldn’t. For the first time in his life he felt like the people he once called idiots. But he couldn’t afford to die. Not with the boy out there waiting for him. And so, he shut the tab on his tablet, linked to the Death Therapy site. Maybe he wasn’t Sherlock Holmes after all. If only he could find his Watson. ...     Sokovia was hell. He got so close to seeing his boy again. So close. But not close enough. He tried to reach for P, but their encounter was cut short. “Mr. Stark! Mr-” P yelled. “I’m P-! Don’t go, please! Please! My name-” “Kid!” “P-t-” It was torturous. Tony wished he could go back to when he didn’t care. When he didn’t think the boy was actually real. But he couldn’t. P is out there. Somewhere. And by God, Tony would find him. Whatever it takes. ...     Spider-boy. Whoever it was, the web-slinger caught Tony’s attention. A young hero, wanting to help out the little guy. He was young, though. And so, Tony felt the need to be a mentor. To guide the young man into becoming the hero everyone would root for. That and whatever the boy was wearing was absolutely unsafe for the job. Tony wanted to give the kid something he could work with to make it all safer for everyone. Plus, he needs someone Steve would go easy on, should Berlin go South. Pepper did most of the research and the phone call went by quickly. Tony didn’t really feel like talking anyways. “Alright, so he lives on 15th street. I’ve texted you the building and the address.” “Thanks, Pep.” Little did she know Tony was already at the front door. “Oh, and his name is-” “Bye, Pep.” He hung up and knocked.     The door was opened by a lovely woman in her late forties. Of course, she immediately recognized him and let him in, offering him a seat on the couch. “My nephew is probably your biggest fan,” she yelps, clapping her hands with excitement. “You are here for him right? He applied to your scholarship a couple weeks ago.” “Yes!” Tony clears his throat. “That’s exactly what I’m here for.” He raises his eyebrows and continues his lie. “He got the scholarship, so I wanted to let him know personally. As I… eh, I do with all other people who got it.” Not every hero shares their identity with the ones they’re close with. It’d be better for Spider-guy if Tony played it safe. ...     Not much later, the door opened again. Tony looked up with a smile, knowing it’d be the friendly neighborhood hero he was going to recruit. His expression faltered when he saw the boy’s face. His boy’s face. P. That’s P. “Ah, perfect timing!” May exclaims cheerfully. “Look who’s here to see you!” Tony blinks and clutches his chest. He’s having a heart attack, isn’t he? He’s dying. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.     Peter seems just as taken aback, seeing the billionaire of his dreams - quite literally - on the couch with his aunt. After a short while of amazed silence, May breaks it. “What’s up with you two all of a sudden? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost!” They can’t help ignoring her. Tony slowly stands up and shuffles closer to the boy who drops his backpack to the floor. “Mr-” “Say your name-” Tony whispers, inching closer and closer until he invades Peter’s personal space. “Please, tell me your name.” Peter looks up at him, wide-eyed, flustered. His lips part, but he swallows before he speaks. “Peter. My name is Peter Parker.” P. Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. Holy- It fits. Everything fits. Sherlock has found his Watson. Everything feels so insanely right in this moment.     Tony slowly raises one hand, placing it on Peter’s fast beating heart. Peter curls both hands around Tony’s and opens their palms, sandwiching Tony’s hand between his. “Need three hands,” Peter mutters. “Four soon.” He moves his hands to Tony’s chest, feeling the scar of where his arc reactor used to be push through the fabric of his dress shirt. “You’re not dying again, are you?” Peter asks quietly, almost scared. “No, kid,” Tony sighs. Content. Finally. “I think this is real.”

[danger-xylophones]

A Chance Encounter (Savage Opress x reader) Part 2

{Masterlist}

Summary: the reader needs protection from bounty hunters and decides that her only option is the man with a higher bounty

Notes: Female pronouns, slow-burn

Warnings: Mentions of injury, purposefully stiff/dismissive dialogue throughout a lot of it (it’s a slow-burn, I have to start somewhere), purposefully strenuous relationship

Words: 1556

<- Prologue

…………………………………………..

3 weeks later

Blaster bolts and frantic chirping was what roused you from your nap. With an undignified snort and a mad scramble to get your feet off the console, you dove for the communicator and activated it, which revealed the image of Savage. His wrist was raised to his face and he looked focused as he deflected the blaster bolts of what was undoubtedly a group of hunters. “Y/n, get the ship ready for take-off.” Savage barked into his comm. 

“Where to, sir?” You quipped immediately, already hovering over the pad to punch in coordinates. 

“Cato Neimodia.” 

You nodded in response despite knowing he couldn’t see you and began to punch in the coordinates for the planet. With the computer beeping to confirm your location, you returned your attention to Savage. “Coordinates programmed, need me to come pick you up?” 

“Yes.” Savage growled low though it wasn’t directed to you. The holo-image of Savage crouched low, bringing his double-bladed saber across his chest. The golden zabrak was careful to keep his communicator’s wrist close to his face in case he needed to bark more orders at you. 

You moved swiftly, nimble fingers dancing over the controls as you locked in Savage’s target. “I’ve got a lock, on my way, sir.” You end the call as the hijacked ship’s engines roar to life, slowly lifting you into the air. The stolen nubian ship handled like a dream as you glided over the sandy dunes of the random wild space planet you and Savage had wound up on thanks to his mysterious talisman which seemed to glow on a whim. To be honest, you were certain Savage was on a wild goose chase across the galaxy (he hadn’t told you why he had the necklace and you didn’t care enough to pry) but so long as he continued to protect you from those that sought your head on a silver platter, you would happily go along with the insanity. 

You were swiftly approaching Savage indicated by the increased chirping emitting from the scanner and soon enough, the telltale sight of blaster bolts came into view atop one of the dunes. As you crested over the top, you were able to take stock of how many hunters Savage was up against. From the looks of it, five but one was dead already-lying face down in the sand. The other four had surrounded Savage who was carefully deflecting as many blasts as he could. Flicking a switch, you readied the guns on your own ship and opened fire-careful to avoid accidentally hitting your companion. The bounty hunters scattered to avoid your attack and you couldn’t help but smirk-it seemed as though your lessons with the pilots of your home planet were paying off. In the brief interim created by your attack, you landed the starship in front of Savage, encouraging him to get on. 

As soon as you saw that your companion had made in on board, you took off, leaving the bounty hunters in the dust. As the desert planet faded into the distance, Savage entered the cockpit, footsteps heavier than normal which told you he was exhausted. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “You look exhausted, sir.” You hummed as he fell into the other chair. The zabrak grumbled in reply, eyes closed. “I’m about to make the jump to hyperspace.” Your voice was quiet now as a way to avoid enraging your companion. Savage mumbled his approval and that was all you needed to continue. As the stars began to zoom past you in a blue blur, you flicked on autopilot and turned your chair to face the man. He was injured as well, not horribly but it was evident that he had taken some hits. A black eye was forming already and his lip was swollen on one side-indicating a fistfight. There was also a scratch on his left cheek that was steadily leaking blood. “You’re injured, I’ll get the medkit for you.” No reply. You stood up and made your way further into the ship-past the collapsed medical droid that Savage had punted across the ship the last time he was injured. Moving the downed robot to the side, you began digging through drawers in search of the aforementioned medkit. 

You had developed a sort of routine with the yellow zabrak already despite not knowing him long. He’d go out in search of information, you’d stay with the ship, he’d come back injured, and you would find him the medkit and then stay put to open or hand him whatever he needed. Savage didn’t like you directly helping him with his injuries which was fine by you-you didn’t want to help him anyways especially not after witnessing what he did to the droid. A part of you felt guilty for not pressing to help him but then again, you were only helping him in the first place so you didn’t die. And part of not dying was making sure you didn’t piss off the man acting as your protection. 

With medkit in hand, you returned to the cockpit where Savage had moved to your chair to look out at the boring bright blue of hyperspace. He always did that though you never understood his fascination with the speedy form of travel. You cleared your throat to get his attention and the looming zabrak slowly turned on his heel, crossed arms coming down to rest at his sides. Wordlessly, you held up the medkit and padded over to his side. “What led you to Cato Neimodia, sir?” You asked tentatively to break the heavy silence that always permeated the area between you two. You never truly liked silence, having come from a busy planet perpetually buzzing with life and movement. 

“The bounty hunters mentioned it.” Savage answered plainly, eyes watching your every movement as you combed through the kit for antiseptic and bacta patches. You handed them to him, careful to avoid touching Savage’s hand with your own. Your head bobbed thoughtfully, eyes trailing away from the zabrak down to the blinking lights of the controls. Savage grunted suddenly, catching your attention. The man, however, was focused on his right arm as he held it out to the side. His saffron eyes combed over the muscular appendage and you couldn’t help but look as well. 

“You got shot, sir…” You observed when your eyes combed over his tricep. 

“Seems so.” Savage grunted back to you but you had already begun rummaging through the kit for bandages. Locating the roll of the white gauze, you carefully began to unroll it enough so Savage wouldn’t have too much hassle getting it wrapped around his arm. Savage took the offered medical supply without a word, beginning to wrap his arm while you dutifully held the roll for him. When the male deemed he had enough he went to tear the gauze but found himself struggling as his other hand was useless to him at the moment. 

Noticing it, you met his eyes questioningly in a silent investigation into whether or not you could help. He grunted to signal you could. Reaching to your belt, you grabbed a vibroblade to cut the gauze and tie it off to keep the bandage from moving. Without thinking to ask, you set about patching up the rest of his injuries for Savage who made no move to stop you. “There you are, sir.” You hummed when you had finished. As you turned to pack the kit back up, Savage spoke. 

“Why do you call me that?” His rumbling voice startled you though you did your best not to show it as you turned to meet his eye. “Why do you call me ‘sir’?” He elaborated upon noticing the confusion. 

“I am in your service, Savage-at least while you are protecting me from the hunters.” You explained simply, rather perplexed as to why he didn’t understand. On your planet, if someone did a service for you that protected you in any way you were to treat them as though they were above you which meant you called a lot of people ‘sir’ or ‘miss’ or ‘madam’. “I was taught that you call anyone who protects you by their proper title.” 

“Don’t call me it anymore. There is no need for dominance between us, Y/n.” Savage’s voice was quiet which wasn’t much of a surprise but it was intense. There was some strange animosity attached to the idea of being addressed in such a manner that you did not understand. 

“Forgive me, Savage, I’ll try not to let it happen again.” You drawled uncertainly with a dip of your head. The zabrak grunted but you did not stick around to hear anymore as you skirted out of the room with the medkit. You didn’t know anything about Savage and you knew that the only way you could learn about him was to talk but...why bother? As soon as you helped him, you would be en route to Coruscant to plead your case to the Senate to call for action. Savage was just a stepping stone. You weren’t supposed to get attached to stepping stones. But still, you could feel the familiar spark of curiosity calling you to speak with the yellow zabrak currently standing in the cockpit, equally conflicted. 

<- Previous | Next ->

[tvandenneagram]

Hamilton Enneagram types

I know that this is mainly a TV blog, but I have loved Hamilton ever since it came out and wanted to type the characters since the ‘film’ came out this week 😊

Alexander Hamilton - 3w4 - 1w2 - 7w8

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Hamilton is the archetypal 3, he is obsessed with raising his station and finding success. Hamilton works tirelessly and never ‘takes a break’ which causes problems with his loved ones. He is fixated on creating a legacy and does not want to go back to the poverty of which he came from. Hamilton is assertive and takes every opportunity he has to succeed. He advises Burr that you get nothing if you wait for it and encourages him to stand up for his beliefs. Towards the end of the musical, he has lost his son and his career, making him more unhealthy. During this time he is withdrawn, listless and shows little motivation (disintegrating to 9). 

Key lyrics:

“Hey yo, I'm just like my country I'm young, scrappy, and hungry. And I'm not throwing away my shot”

“I probably shouldn't brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish”

“Will you relish being a poor man’s wife. Unable to provide for your life?”

“As a kid in the Caribbean I wished for a war. I knew that I was poor. I knew it was the only way to rise up! ... If they tell my story I am either gonna die on the battlefield in glory or rise up!”

Eliza (about Hamilton): “You and your words obsessed with your legacy. Your sentences border on senseless. And you are paranoid in every paragraph how they perceive you”

Aaron Burr - 9w1 - 3w2 - 5w6

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Burr always keeps his stances on different issues ‘close to his chest’ because he doesn’t want to say something that can be used against him. He does have values and feelings, he just isn’t open with his feelings and doesn’t say anything to keep the peace. In the later part of the play, Burr begins to show his ambition more openly and begins to campaign for president. He starts to take more initiative and tries to be more like Hamilton and take what he wants rather than ‘waiting for it’. As Burr gets into the lower levels of health, he becomes paranoid like a 6 as we can see in “The Room Where It Happens.” When Hamilton supports Jefferson for the presidency, Burr becomes vengeful and challenges Hamilton to a duel. He does not understand why Hamilton would support his enemy over his friend, when all Burr is trying to do is take Hamilton’s advice. Burr is ultimately very jealous of Hamilton, as he believes that Hamilton gets everything he wants by taking it. Burr’s style of lying in wait directly contrasts Hamilton’s more assertive nature and deep down he wishes he was more like Hamilton.

Key Lyrics:

“I'm not standing still, I am lying in wait”

“Talk less. Smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for”

“What is it like in his shoes? Hamilton doesn't hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. He takes and he takes and he takes and he keeps winning anyway.”

“I’ll keep all my plans close to my chest (wait for it, wait for it). I’ll wait here and see which way the wind will blow. I’m taking my time watching the afterbirth of the nation, watching the tension grow”

“I am slow to anger, but I toe the line as I reckon with the effects of your life on mine”

“I wanna be in the room where it happens”

Eliza Schuyler - 9w1 - 2w1 - 6w7

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Eliza is kind-hearted, caring and naive. She is shy, but she is fiercely loyal to her loved ones. She has a tendency to go with the flow and is very easily influenced. Eliza is deeply trusting and tends to take what Hamilton says at face value. It seems that she is naive to Hamilton’s intentions to raise his station and to his later affair. She is helpless when it comes to Hamilton and hangs on his every word. Eliza wants Hamilton to give her more attention and show her more affection. She wants to show him that there is more to life than creating a legacy. Eliza is very forgiving and when their son dies, she shows Hamilton the ultimate compassion by forgiving him. In her later life she becomes more of an activist and speaks out against slavery as well as establishing an orphanage to help children. 

Key lyrics:

“I have never been the type to try and grab the spotlight”

“I'm erasing myself from the narrative. Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when you broke her heart”

“We don’t need a legacy. We don’t need money. If I could grant you peace of mind. If you could let me inside your heart…”

“I stop wasting time on tears I live another fifty years It’s not enough”

Angelica (about Eliza):  “I know my sister like I know my own mind. You will never find anyone as trusting or as kind”

Angelica (about Eliza): “ If I tell her that I love him she’d be silently resigned. He’d be mine. She would say, “I’m fine”. She’d be lying.”

Company: “Forgiveness. Can you imagine?” 

Angelica Schuyler: 6w7 - 1w2 - 2w3 

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Angelica was very hard to type, we were stuck between 1 and 6 because she is very, very compliant. One of her defining characteristics is her self-sacrificing nature and devotion to her sister. Angelica values duty and tries to do what is right for her family. When she meets Hamilton, she is able to correctly deduce that he wants to be with her because of her family’s social status. Despite feeling an instant attraction to him, she sets him up with Eliza instead because (as the oldest) she has to fulfill her father’s expectations and marry into society. Angelica is also extremely loyal to Eliza and her family, as most of her actions are in service to them. When she returns from London, she reacts aggressively to Hamilton as he betrayed Eliza. 

Key Lyrics:

“I’m a girl in a world in which my only job is to marry rich. My father has no sons so I’m the one who has to social climb for one”

“He’s after me cos I’m a Schuyler sister. That elevates his status, I’d have to be naive to set that aside”

“In a letter I received from you two weeks ago I noticed a comma in the middle of a phrase. It changed the meaning. Did you intend this?”

“Some men say that I’m intense or I’m insane. You want a revolution? I want a revelation - so listen to my declaration”

“And when I meet Thomas Jefferson Imma compel him to include women in the sequel”

George Washington - 1w9 - 6w7 - 3w2

Washington has very strong principles which manifest in his efforts for the revolution. He has a tendency to dwell on his past mistakes and feels deep shame over them. Washington takes Hamilton under his wing and wants to show him the wisdom that he has learned throughout his life. He remains true to his convictions and fights for what he believes in. Washington abdicates his presidency because he knows that it is the right thing for the nation. He understands that for the nation to move forward there needs to be different leaders and viewpoints. Washington wants his address to inform of the wisdom he gained from leading the country and help advise America’s future leaders.

Key lyrics:

“I made every mistake. I felt the shame rise in me and even now I lie awake knowing history has its eyes on me”

“Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder”

“Pick up a pen, start writing. I wanna talk about what I have learned. The hard-won wisdom I have earned”

“Can I be real a second? For just a millisecond? Let down my guard and tell the people how I feel a second? Now I’m the model of a modern major general the venerated Virginian veteran whose men are all lining up, to put me up on a pedestal, writin’ letters to relatives, embellishin’ my elegance and eloquence”  

[ilguna]

Ethereal - Chapter Seven (f.o)

Summary: Five years of watching your trainees die, you’re sick of it. She will prevail, she will win.

Word Count; 4.2k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION, DEATH, GORE. hints at PTSD

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“And how are you and Finnick doing?” Reed asks, your eyes flicker to the living room area.

Finnick isn’t there, but it’s just an instinct to look there now. You’re so used to him sitting there on the couch, staring at the tv, occasionally stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. But you’re always watching, waiting for something to happen.

He’s not here now because he’s in the betting area, organizing more gifts to send down to your tributes. Both of them are still very alive and healthy. Neither of them are sick, or bleeding out. And they’re following everything that you had taught them down to the last detail.

The only times you worry about them is during the night. Where one of them will take watch and ultimately, accidentally fall asleep. Then you’re forced to sit by and hope that the careers don’t come around. And this time skip the theatrics and go straight for the kill.

It’s been ten days for them, four for you. You’re starting to see the sleep deprivation toll on Paslee, he’s not used to going so long without sleep, any genius would be able to see. Annie is fine though, she’s still agile, and her mind seems to work faster. Though, she seems a little more paranoid than usual.

Two days after the girl from nine had died, the boy had followed. It’s suicide, that one is just too obvious. There must have been something between him and the girl, or maybe he just realized that he wouldn’t make it out alive. Sometimes the insanity of playing out the possibilities of how you can die, will drive you to do it yourself.

It’s not the first time anyone has seen a tribute do it. It’s just painful to watch, especially when the cameras will zoom in like it’s funny to watch. It’s not, for the district back home that has to watch, and for the mentor that tried to encourage them to win.

You hate to be happy by another dead kid down, but it increases the odds of your kids winning. Another death, another ticket back home.

Then, there was a six day gap after that. Nearly a whole week of silence, the tension was building, and you called it the second that it broke. Finnick had been sleeping–again–and you woke him in time to watch as the careers attacked on an alliance.

The boy from three, and the girls from eight and ten. The girl from eight had grabbed all the shit she could manage and took off like a bat out of hell. There was a small pop-up camera that was on her on the upper right of the screen, keeping track of her as she ran.

The girl from one had stayed at the camp for three and eight, but the girl from two went chasing after her. It must have been a plan, because she didn’t hesitate, and the other two hadn’t even had that moment of ‘should I chase?’. The girl from two’s eyes had darted to ten, and then took off.

The boy from three and eight are both dead, but not before they had gotten a shit ton of swipes in on the careers. Homemade weapons, but they were so incredibly flimsy. All it took was a hard enough hit against the swords and they crumbled in their hands. Basically to shards.

The girl was merciless, she didn’t spare them a short death, she dragged it out a while, because that’s the type of person she is. You know she was taking out the anger of her district mate dying out on them. The person she really wants is Paslee, and to get Annie would be amazing too. They’re bloodthirsty for revenge.

As for the girl from two who chased after ten, she should have let the girl from ten go. It was only a matter of time before ten had found a nice hiding spot and two went blasting past her.

Which led her directly into a pack of mutts. You never thought squirrels would be terrifying, but when they’re mauling, and knawing and screaming like they were, it’s absolutely terrifying. Her death was drawn out just like the others, and you know that the gamemakers loved having two different focuses going on.

Of course, they had to show the reactions of the other tributes that weren’t included in that fucking mess of a massacre. Annie woke up at the first scream, and Paslee hadn’t woke until the first cannon went off, the girl from eight. And then there was the second, the boy from three. And then the girl from two.

Annie and Paslee thought it was a joke for a moment, but they know that the gamemakers can’t just send out false cannons like that. They decided that it would be a good time to find a hiding spot, thinking that the careers would be hunting them.

They didn’t know that it was only one career but two others that had died. For all they thought, it could have been the alliance of three–Annie had come across them by accident and saw that they were working together–that died. The careers could have been the ones that came out victorious.

And considering the fight, and the fact that it was equal numbers, the careers had got amazingly lucky for winning that fight. Had the alliance had actual weapons, there would have been some serious damage done. They were the best people you’ve seen go up against the careers since you and Finnick were in.

Real weapons or just a little more time with the weapons they had built, and the careers wouldn’t have walked away at all. You’re just glad that they hadn’t walked away perfectly pristine. Boy from two was bleeding in several places, girl from one had a broken nose with a river of blood that wouldn’t stop.

Anyway, since those three have died, it’s been pretty quiet again. The careers are fixing their wounds, planning when they’ll go out again. You and Finnick think that it’ll be a while before they go after Paslee and Annie, since they’re obviously skilled in some combat, and with the careers already being injured, it would be a death sentence.

It’s why the sponsors are flooding all sides with gifts. Mostly the careers, and Annie and Paslee. The girl from ten has gotten a real weapon, and that’s about it. You wonder how long a sword will last on her behalf. You’ve seen her practice with it, and it’s going to get her killed.

“Hello? Are you still there?” Reed’s voice comes over.

Your eyes focus on the tv, seeing that it’s just your tributes making themselves a late lunch. You look back at the wall so you can focus again.

“Sorry, I got lost for a second. Finnick and I are doing fine.”

“That’s not an answer–”

You sigh, “I know, you want all the gory details but he’s not even sure if he’s coming home this time either.”

There’s a pause, “You and him are together?”

“I guess. Him and I have been a lot closer lately.”

Reed isn’t happy, “What happens when he doesn’t come home and you two have gotten as close as you did last time?”

Here we go, “I’ll be fine, I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“Are you going to cry yourself to sleep like you did then too?” he asks, and you close your eyes, “Are you going to play pretend for the cameras again?”

One deep breath, “I need to watch my tributes. I’ll call you if I’ll be going home sooner than expected.”

“(Y/n)–”

You place the phone back on the hook, before walking over to the couch.

Reed had absolutely no right pulling that card on you. He’s not the one that went through it all, and he doesn’t understand the amount of precaution, all the steps that you’re taking to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. If Finnick were to leave today and not come back for whatever reason, you would be fine without him.

You would be angry, reasonably. But you wouldn’t be as heartbroken as last time, because you’re grown up. You’re twenty years old, you’ve had four years to get over him and it’s no surprise that it came back up. However, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. And with that saying, you never hear a third time, because there is never a third time.

Finnick has given you a reason on why he wouldn’t come back with you this time. And because of this, you wouldn’t be mad at him. Irritated that he would believe that he’d have to take care of you, but you wouldn’t be mad. It would be his way of protecting you after everything that had happened to him in his time in the Capitol.

If he believes that the people of the Capitol would pounce on you immediately after this, and do some serious damage, then he wouldn’t take the chance.

You watch your tributes, as they eat and talk about things back home. Every now and then they’ll bring up someone from the district, teenagers you don’t recognize the names of. Then there’s the elders, famous for their fishing stories. Annie talks about you, Finnick and Mags. Paslee has some opinions about you guys.

And just like that, it seems like it’s stuck on them. Like they’re going through their own personal talk show. Annie will talk about the little things that you taught them, and she’ll muse about the little knots that she never knew existed. Then there’s a few rumors that had spread around about you, they come in waves each time you come home from the Capitol.

It’s mostly out of anger that you didn’t bring anyone home. But then again, parents and guardians aren’t teaching the kids the skills that they need to know–which they bring up–and you’re catching them up on the most mundane shit. She’ll bring up examples of the kids that came before them. About how the younger kids that got sent in didn’t know how to start a fire and she says that she knew how to do that when she turned nine.

Paslee agrees, saying that you spend your time teaching them the things that they should already know, instead of expanding off of what they would have already known and teaching them new things. You can’t just build a house with no foundation. But spend too much on the foundation and you have no time to build the house. Build it too quickly and it’ll fall.

You try to teach kids skills in a week, but had they been learning and memorizing for months or years, then they would have been able to do it with their eyes closed.

You hope everyone back home is hearing this, your district and others. Because she’s telling them what you can’t.

Right in the middle of one of Annie’s sentences, it snaps to the careers. Standing right behind Annie and Paslee, the girl from one has the sword behind her head. A grin forms over her face, and just when Annie turns to look at Paslee, the girl from one swings.

It’s like a train hits you. And you can see exactly what she has seen.

Paslee being decapitated–even though it’s not by her hands–is just the same as the girl from ten. When you had swung that sword out of fear of the girl from ten reaching it first.

The girl from one doing it, is not out of fear.

Annie’s scream breaks the microphone for a moment, and you find your legs slipping off the couch, hitting the floor as you lean forward. Eyes wide, mouth open.

She swipes her weapon of choice, and swings. This is what fear looks like. She catches the same wound that the girl from eight made two days ago when they had fought. The blood starts immediately. One is shocked and stumbles back, dropping her blood-soaked sword into the grass as Annie picks up the backpack.

She runs uphill, which is smart. One won’t be able to follow her up, and the boy from two doesn’t seem to want to follow.

However, you find yourself begging Annie to get away from the dam. Run parallel to the forcefield, getting closer to the dam is dangerous. Those cracks aren’t decoration, they’re a warning of what’s to come for those who aren’t careful.

When you see that Annie is running, you make your way out of the apartment. Skipping over the elevator and taking the stairs down, believing them to be faster.

Right when you get around the corner to the hallway where the betting room is on, you see that the door is being held open for you.

At the sound of your feet, Finnick’s head turns to see you.

You reach out to him when you get close, and he pulls you into the room. This is where Cashmere and Gloss are standing, proud of their little tribute. Cashmere has the widest smirk you’ve ever seen on her face, “Still think that they’re winners?”

“Only one died.” you tell them, “Your tributes are letting them slip through their pathetic fingers. First it’s the girl from ten, and now it’s Annie.”

Cashmere’s smirk falls.

“Your tributes are foolish to think that they can win two days after they had gotten the beating they were heading for. They’re cocky, impatient and unskilled. They’re over their heads, and it’s getting them killed, they’re making mistakes they can’t afford to make.” you laugh, “And who did they learn all of this shit from?”

Cashmere goes to launch, but Gloss grabs a hold of her and pulls her back. You turn your body away to the tv again to see that Annie is against the dam.

She’s barely standing, using the dam for all of the support. She’s sweating out all the water she must have drank today, and with the shade she’s turning, it looks like she might throw up. Annie drops her weapon, shedding the backpack for a moment as she falls to her knees in the stream of water.

Handfuls of water, and then she splashes it into her face. But the food doesn’t stay down, and the cameras go away from her while she has her moment. Instead, it goes to the girl from one, shirt pulled up to reveal that the gash is bigger this time. She must have used the little knife, because a sword wouldn’t have been fast enough for something like this.

You laugh when she gets angrier, yelling at the boy from two for doing nothing. The sword that she had earlier is now back in her hands and she holds it to the boys throat.

“Birds of a feather flock together…” Finnick mutters.

You finish it for him, “Until the cat comes.”

–

There is nothing more unsettling than watching Caesar show off the dam every morning when he starts the show. And when you say unsettling, it’s absolutely terrifying to watch. Because they’re doing this deliberately.

This is not for shits and giggles. There is nothing interesting about the dam. It’s made out of grey concrete. It looks like it could be a place for a historical tour for existing before the rebellion had taken place. There’s the cracks in it, showing that it’s durable.

But that’s the thing. They keep going back to it. They’re waiting, hinting at something that might happen in the future. They’re letting everyone know that there is something big coming in the future.

There’s nothing you can do for that. What would you be able to give to someone because of a dam breaking? You can’t warn her to run or anything, because that would be cheating, and the gamemakers would be sure to punish her for it. Even if she didn’t take place in it directly.

All you guys can do is hope that they understand that the dam is there for a reason. That it isn’t decoration, there’s something more behind it.

And with Annie’s mental state at the moment, you’re not sure she’s understanding any of this anymore. At least she isn’t sticking right next to it like the girl from ten. And she’s not directly in the path if it breaks, like the careers with how they’re at the cornucopia. She’s sticking off to the side.

If the others pick up on her mannerisms, then she might just be screwed. They’ll know that something is coming.

The decapitation had done something to her mind. It’s a traumatic event, you don’t blame her for freaking out. Her and Paslee were talking like nothing was wrong one second, and the next she’s looking over in time to watch his head get cut off. She’s paranoid–you see it in her movements.

She’s always worried that someone is around her. She’s losing more sleep down, and the only times she does sleep is when she accidentally passes out from exhaustion. She hugs herself, and rocks back and forth. Annie is constantly whispering to herself, things that the gamemakers choose not to pick up on, you guess. Out of her privacy, or they might have done it once and realized that is not the way they would like to portray her.

The women that go inside of the arena, come out broken in some way. For Mags, it was a little while later when she finally had that stroke that made it impossible for her to talk. For you, you caught typhoid, it ruined your body, you take colds like it’s going to be the end of the world now. And for Annie…

If she wins this–wait.

Let’s say that the dam does hypothetically break, would she survive the wave? It would all have to depend on whether or not she’s close for the blast, right? But on the other hand she would have to be out of the way for the concrete, and have to get hit when it’s just water. Assuming that she’s a fantastic swimmer like the rest of you–you’ve had a few that had no clue what they were doing in the water.

So it breaks, the concrete would be enough to kill people alone. Just get hit by it and you’re basically dead. The air leaves your lung, it hits a body part, mainly your head, and then you’re out of the game. So, when all of that has passed, and it’s just water, the stream will lessen up.

Yes, she should have a chance at winning.

So if she wins this year, then that means that she would be leaving the arena in a mental state she did not go in with. Her parents would have to take care of her, not like a child, because she’s still capable of being herself. You’ve watched Annie go from laughing at random times, seemingly out of it, to being dead silent, eyes vigilant as she leans over to grab her weapon of choice.

She’s still in there somewhere. You’re just not sure if you’ll get to her in time, and if a therapist from the Capitol, or a doctor from the district will be able to help her with this. The people from the Capitol don’t understand, and the doctors back home will be able to tell you a diagnosis and the medicine that might help.

The only people that she would truly be able to lean on would be you, Finnick and Mags.

And that can end in many, many ways.

Her problems could dig up your own memories that you’ve buried now. And soon, you won’t be as okay as you’ve been all these years. She needs someone that understands what she’s going through.

You’re not it. And if Finnick doesn’t go back with you to district four, then he’s not it. And Mags can’t talk her through it, so she’s not it.

You cycle through the medicines again, squinting, reading the descriptions, and then sliding past again. You pucker your lips at one that comes close, memorize the name, and then move on to the next.

“What are you looking for, miss?” the boy asks, you look up to see him with a twisted face, he’s confused. He can clearly see the medicines that you’re going back and forth on.

You look up to him, “An antidepressant.”

He looks to the computer, typing for a moment, and then he shakes his head, “We don’t offer that.”

“How much for a few pills?” you ask, “Two, three days worth?”

“I just said–”

You lean forward, “I know you guys offer mixtures that would work. How much?” and when he looks like he’s not going to tell you, you add, “I’m a mentor, not a moron.”

He lists the price, a couple thousand just for the mixture, and then a few more thousand for one pill. For her to get one single one, it would be over ten grand. And this is on the assumption that she would need multiple pills for one day, maybe even more.

You nod slowly, before standing up, “I’ll take three for now, under the name (Y/n) Gallows.”

You see a look on his face that you haven’t seen in years. It’s the one that brings up the memories of rumors, and years of having to dodge certain people to get it out of your head.

You learned what your nickname had been.

The Capitol chooses one thing about a person that stood out the most anytime. Starting during the chariot ride to the games.

You got yours at the end of the games, it’s pretty obvious why.

For a while, people called you The Executioner. Never to your face, but you heard it behind your back.

For Finnick, he’s the Peacock. The feathers represent his pretty face, and the danger that it brings because of it. He’s beautifully dangerous, and the people of the Capitol love him for it.

When Annie comes out of this, she’ll be known as the girl who went crazy just when it was down to four people. The districts will be wondering if she’ll also die to suicide like the boy only a week or two before her. Or if she’ll end up prevailing only to die by the end of the career’s sword.

The Capitol will be on the edge of their seats for this. Every single day.

You go to head back to Finnick, but you turn back to the boy, “I have a note I need to write.”

“You want this sent in immediately?” he asks.

“Send in the order and give me something to write on.” you tell him, and just by the tone of your voice, he scrambles.

He presses a few things on screen, and then motions to the technology at your fingertips. You pick up the virtual pen before leaning over the tablet.

‘This should help’, you write, ‘Time wisely’.

You drop the pen, looking at him, “Send in down in the next five minutes.”

Then, you turn and head back over to Finnick.

“How much did it cost?” he asks.

“Over-priced since it’s towards the end of the games. Ten thousand or so just to get one of them done.”

Finnick looks to you, “What happened to saving?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you motion to where the career victors normally sit, “But I’m short of a few friends.”

He smirks a little bit, “Got money to burn?”

“I’m sure you do too,” you nudge his shoulder.

Cameras flicker back to Annie, which is when the sponsor gift sound starts. Annie perks up, and she heads over to where the sound is coming from. When she catches the gift in her hands, she goes back over to where she was against a tree.

She moves the parachute out of the way, opening the top of the canister, and tilting her head to read what you wrote, which she whispers aloud, “This should help. Time wisely.”

And then you listen to the few sponsors in the betting room gasp as Annie holds up the pills. The whispers break out immediately about who would send a gift that expensive.

Annie looks up, “Thank you, (Y/n), Finnick.”

“She’s giving you credit for something I did.” You shake your head.

“It’s because she doesn’t know who’s cursive is who.” Finnick tells you.

You squint at the writing in surprise, because there’s no way that you wrote in it. But lo and behold, there it is. You wrote in perfect cursive.

“These fucking people are rubbing off on me.” you grumble bitterly, crossing your arms as you sink in your chair.

“It fits you, darling,” Finnick tells you quietly, “You’re one of us now. Embrace it and maybe they won’t have to take you.”

You look to him.

“They have a colonist point of view. Save the savages.”

You hate that he’s right.

Conform, or be tortured.

[hollenka99]

...Ouch

Summary: When Mark suggested he let Wilford Warfstache interview him, Jack didn't think it would end up like this. One thing's for sure, he's not listening to Mark's ideas again. Based on a-heist-of-words' Egoctober 2018 prompt, "...ouch..." and Warfstache Interviews Markiplier.

Warnings: Wilford has a knife so y’know... attempted stabbing.

The studio audience cheered appropriately as the title card played. It looked like a good turn out, maybe 90% of the seats were filled. Mark was there too, somewhere. Jack was interested to see what kind of questions this Warfstache guy was going to ask him. Mark had mentioned the reporter to Jack several months ago. He explained the man was always looking for someone new to question. He guaranteed the interview would be memorable. That was to be seen.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and of course, all other configurations of being. My name is Wilford Warfstache and boy, do we have a great guest for you tonight. Some call him the worst Irishman, some call him a leprechaun, most people just call him Green Pewdiepie... please welcome Mr Jacksepticeye!"

Um, okay. Weird introduction but whatever. Mark did say Wilford Warfstache was eccentric.

"Welcome sir." "Hi." He gave the audience a little wave. "Our producer couldn't find another way to boost our ratings." Right then... "So, you play video games for a living?" "Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that. It's a pretty cool job to have." "Now what exactly is it that you do while playing these treacherous virtual brain dumpsters?" "Well, I wouldn't call them brain dumpsters." He gives a small laugh. "I basically record myself playing a game, do a little commentating and post it to YouTube. We're called Let's Players; there's quite a few of us on YouTube." "So you commentate?" "Yeah." "So what is it exactly that you, Jacksepticeye, commentate?" "Video games. People come to my channel to watch me react to the game I'm playing that video." "Ooh!" Warfstache encouraged the audience to have a similar response. "Reaction to what?"

He was going to kill Mark.

"Video. Games." He tried not to sound like a dick, he swore he did. His interviewer's reaction was unintelligible. "And now on to the nitty-gritty!" That was more like it. Maybe this interview had just started off weak. "Hell yeah." "Now what games would you say have been the biggest draw to your channel?" "Oh, that's easy. Yeah, everyone seems to love my videos on Skate 3, Grand Theft Auto... Happy Wheels is a big one too." The crowd cheered at the mention of Happy Wheels. "Yeah! Screw you, Billy." He joked. "So which one of these games would you say is your favourite?" "You know, I get asked this all the time and I still can't choose. Um..." The boom operator lost their grip. It went right into his mouth.

Mark was dead. Jack was never listening to his suggestions again.

"Boy, you got a lot of fans." But... he wasn't quite done answering the last question. Never mind, he didn't have a solid answer anyway. The sooner this interview was over, the sooner he could return to bitching about Irish showers. "Yeah, over 6 million subscribers. It's crazy how many people want to watch my content." "That is baffling!" "I feel the same. But I'm thankful for every last one. If it wasn't for them, I'd still be stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere by myself. I've also gotten to know some awesome people because of it." "Anyway, have you ever met any of these 'fans'?" "All the time! I just came back from PAX West and there were a whole bunch of them. You get to meet a lot at conventions but a few will spot you in the street. They're all really sweet so I-"

"Murder their entire family?" Where the hell did that come from? "What?! No! No, of course I don't." "So you admit it!" Warfstache accused. "You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen. The Jacksepticeye has just admitted to never murdering anyone." "I... yeah, I never murdered anyone." Jack scanned the audience to see if they were hallucinating the same ludicrous bullshit he was. "Look, this is going in a really weird direction. Can we go back to normal questions?" "Sounds like someone's getting impatient." "Dude, you literally just accused me of murder. I only agreed to this interview because I was told it would be different. I don't know why Mark ever recommended you. I think you might be-"

Warfstache pulled a tiny dagger from his trousers. Yeah, the guy was clearly insane. Was that Jack's cue to get the hell out of here? Yes, it certainly sounded like it. Very distinct sirens of 'Get the fuck away from this madman' were blaring.

The blade barely missed him during Warfstache's first attempt to stab him. He leaped out of the chair. A moving target was less likely to be killed than a seated one. That didn't stop the reporter from drawing closer.

Jack didn't even know what he was doing. Once his survival instincts kicked in, everything was on autopilot. So how the hell the scuffle ended with Warfstache bleeding and him holding the knife would forever remain a mystery. He'd stabbed someone. Oh God, he was going to be responsible for someone's death.

"...Ouch." Wilford looked annoyed. Why was he annoyed? The guy had just been stabbed in the gut. He was bleeding. Why was he just standing there? Why was he acting like it was nothing?

Somebody grabbed him. They didn't wait for his mind to catch up with his involuntarily steps. His other arm hurt.

"Okay, that should be far enough." The member of security halted by an exit. "Are you injured?" "Uh..." Jack's sleeve was turning red. Oh shit. "Doesn't look deep but we should get you a bandage or two." "Sure." Honestly, he was ready to switch his brain off for a while. "Yeah, we've got a Code Pink. The guest doesn't appear to be in immediate danger but keep an eye on Warfstache. I'm taking the guest to the infirmary to treat his arm. Update me if anything happens." The guard spoke into a walkie-talkie. The walk to the infirmary was much gentler. "Does this happen often if you have a code for it?" "He's not the most stable individual. I heard he shot someone off the first floor once."

His brain was resembling a dial-up. Who allowed a murderer to host his own program? Why wasn't he locked up?

Disinfecting the slash on his arm stung. Although, it was better to wince than lose it to an infection. Now his arm was being treated, he could relax slightly. The maniac reporter still lingered in his mind.

"Will Warfstache be okay? I mean, I did stab him." "That guy? Oh yeah, you'd think he was invincible the way he brushes off injuries. He's something else, I'm telling you." "You can say that again. Still..." "Trust me, he will be back in action within 24 hours. You don't need to go all Lady Macbeth."

A half Korean man frantically burst into the infirmary. He scanned the room erratically before catching sight of the Irishman with recently dyed green hair. Jack was pissed and Mark leaked anxiety.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. Did he get you?" Mark's eyes landing on his friend's bandaged arm was a sufficient answer. "We need to talk." Jack glared.

[primeadv]

SITS DOWN

PULLS OUT 10 GIANT ALBUMS :))) 

(this came out way longer than I intended im so fuckgkdsdf sory)

How I feel about this character: EVERYONE WHO KNOWS ME KNOWS I’M IN LOVE WIHT RATCHET. I love him in all iterations of Transformers because he’s always the tired, pragmatic one of the group. In contrast, he’s also almost tiredly optimistic in some ways. He won’t get out of bed, but if someone gets shot in the head he’ll spend however long and beyond to resuscitate them. There’s 2 halves to this--the me who identifies with the beating exhaustion he exudes, and the me who’s in awe that he’ll still fight his way through life.  I won’t... get into each continuity...because that’s too much, so I’ll stick with probably the most unpopular version of him and that’s IDW (my impression, anyway). IDW Ratchet gets a lot of flack for being way too sour and like, maybe not selfish, but uncaring. He cares! A lot! He’s always thinking about everyone in really surprisingly thoughtful ways. Like when he’s 90% sure he’ll die due to Overlord and his last words are to promote First Aid to CMO (he’s ready!! god that’s sweet), and to give his hands to Whirl (though maybe a bit blindsided, he’s paid attention to some roots of Whirl’s trauma). Or yeah he’s hella mean to Drift in the beginning, but when Drift is dying in his arms he’s scREAMING at him “you’re gonna make it! You’re gonna be fine because I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna be fine”. He can be an asshole, but he knows the time and place. Death isn’t something to play with--he’s seen probably countless friends die, and he doesn’t want that to happen again. Even now, even after the war.  So I feel very confused when ppl act like he’s this mean, cold person. He’s exTREMELY emotional. He’s probably way too invested in everyone’s lives, honestly? He interrupts a round table story for Rung just to reminisce on the veery last time he, OP, and Roller were together in the same room (not even hanging out or anything, just being together one last time. who remembers that after 5+ millions years??). He started an illegal clinic in the bad part of town because he wanted to put his skills to better use! Like! LOL.  ALSO, a point that i think is unfair is that ppl think his atheism is just really mean. IT is! But I think it shows just how much of an emotional and extremely, deeply hurt person he is. It gets aggravating when he’s condescending of religion, because there’s no simple logic to it. He reacts the way he does because he’s a hurt person who’s gone through years of trauma and this is his way of coping. Is it healthy or right? Nah, but it’s humanizing. It’s why when he becomes closer to Drift he occupies this weird between space where he snarks but also tries to indulge more in perspectives outside of his own in his own dumb old tsundere way. He’s a person who believes in justice, ultimately, and religion to him doesn’t fall under justice.  ALSO, can I say that his inability to say good byes is so.. like relatable? I have rly bad social anxiety, and so I’ve definitely ghosted people who’ve been nothing but really supportive for me. It’s not because I wanted to burn them, but it freaks you out needing to, not even say goodbye, but communicate with ppl. And for Ratchet--how many times was he FORCED to say good bye to friends + patients who were dying beyond his help? Maybe, if he could help it, he doesn’t want to say goodbye. And it’s tragic the times he’s just left, these were people who ended up either dying for falling astray into insanity, i.e., beyond his help. But he learns. He chases after Drift, who he actually said, in a way, good bye to (helping him off the floor after being attacked, also I should point out that a very tiny handful of people were comfortable interacting w/ Drift at all, and how much Ratchet just doesn’t give a shit abt how other ppl think abt him. he’ll help drift off the floor bc t’s the right thing to do). He says goodbye in his old dumb way--First Aid calls him out on it. ALSO his trust in First Aid is super cute. ALSO he’s like.. genuinely nice to Ten (he helped him get a date with Minimus!!!). And he’s not afraid to call out on other ppl’s bullshit (telling rodi straight you dont deserve to be captain which, at the time, was really true). He’s also SUPER smart. Also there’s that post on tumblr that pointed out that Ratchet immediately goes to deescalate conflict. He’s willing to put aside pride and anything if it means ultimately coming to a resolution where EVERYONE involved is safe. The only time he doesn’t is FUCKING OVERLORD who he rightfully, immediately, tries to briefly incapacitate to lockdown his medibay (protect patients/information). Ok I gotta stop I can go on forever just going page to page. Also, despite my love, I can totally point out his flaws. He’s grating when it’s unnecessary, he’s abhorrently bad at communicating, he’s privileged, he’s narrow-minded at times, etc. ec. But again what I love about him is that despite all that, he’ll throw his own self out the window for others’s well-being bc he genuinely, genuinellyyy cares about other people. If only he could care for himself //cries All the people I ship romantically with this character OH god... everyone. He’s my bicycle.  ok look, ya’ll know I’m an intense dratchet shipper and I could literally write a god damn essay. ... here’s another essay???!! So, I’ma be real, I wasn’t a super dratchet shipper before. I wasn’t anti (i have no notps), but I was just “yeah they’re cute i guess haha”. But 99.99% the reason why I ship anything is all for super cute adorable fanart. and I kept drawing them because 1) ratchet’s my fav, 2) drift is super popular so I figured I should learn to draw him. And they became the only 2 mechs I could draw. I used to be way more into Scavengers + megarod. I used to only like 1 dratchet fanfic and that’s bc it was less romantic and more plot centric (still a fav tho). Then I kept seeing cute fanart, I would read posts by other dratchet shippers too about what makes them so nice? And I was yeah.. oh yeah. And it doesn’t help that in Lost Light, drift is CONSTANTLY by Ratchet’s side. He’s constantly checking up on him and holding him and touching him, like as if Ratchet is the thing that he needs to make sure, at all costs, is safe.  In Drift’s life, Ratchet is the one who appears to him when he needs support the most but is in the most denial of it. When Drift is at the brink of death, overdosed and about to be broken apart and Orion brings him to Ratchet’s clinic. Ratchet patches him up pro-bono and tells him that he sees something special in him.  like??? can you imagine how that feels? To have no one believe in you--you don’t even believe in yourself, and yet here’s this person who tells you “you’re gonna be great”. And it totally doesn’t hit Drift in anyway, at least in a way that’s tangible to him, until much later in life. Or maybe it does (hey, how do you weave character narratives when it’s been written by like 3 different ppl shrugs). And that statement means 2 different things to them. To Drift, it’s a reminder that he’s worth something, even if it’s a sliver of nearly nothing to hold onto. To Ratchet, it’s a reminder that the greatness he saw led to the deaths of thousands of people.  HEY can you imagine this person you saved, patched up, tried to encourage, ended up being a mass serial killer in the future? (have you ever read Monster by Naoki Urusawa). Ended up killing people you loved?  So it’s no wonder that a good part of Ratchet is absolutely mad at Drift. And I think if that was all, they probably would’ve ended up being amicable. But Drift also ended up being super religious and seeing the hand and primus in everything and oh my god is this person really waxing poetry on the value of life when he, himself, shot several bullets at me at one point?  I also believe they are uncomfortably similar as they are different. The reason why they constantly butt heads is they’re two people trying to escape a past they don’t want and found complete opposite ways to cope with their losses. Drift found religion, Ratchet is gratingly pragmatic, and they see each other and go “how could this guy choose to be this way?”. I’ve heard ppl like to cite the annual as the reason why they could never work out. BUT, can I point out, that they act around each other in a way they don’t with anyone else? Drift gets SO MAD. Ratchet gets extremely talkative and incredibly personal (pulled out an electro slug from someone’s spark, holy shit that fucking traumatized you didn’t it??). They challenge each other emotionally, and it’s so fucking difficult bc they’re both extremely depressed and suffer from PTSD and would probably rather just go on their dumb space adventure and look at stars--take 2 emotionally constipated idiots and you get them. And hell no, don’t tell me Drift is in-tune with his feelings bc he’s 10000% not. He uses religion to cope with a past and life that he doesn’t want to think about. He tries to re-contextualize himself because he hates who he is. OUCHHH. And Ratchet MAKES him confront the parts of himself he hates--bc Ratchet has seen his worst traits and isn’t afraid to make him think about it.  So why do they work out eventually? They realize how important they are to each other. Delphi, Drift saves Ratchet’s life while he’s barely holding onto his own because he probably feels like he owes Ratchet his own life. And that’s a huge turning point in their relationship--Ratchet sees that... Drift tries really really fucking hard. My friend Zig pointed out that post-Delphi, Drift is eating energon w/ chopsticks (what a fucking nerd), and you can see in a later panel that Ratchet (who chose to sit next to Drift) is using those chopsticks too. IT’s such a small thing, but they’re becoming closer by sharing and learning from each other. And then Drift takes the fall and leaves. And Ratchet realizes just how important Drift’s presence is in his life. I mentioned it already lol but the scene where Ratchet helps Drift up off the floor and it’s superimposed with the love message Rewind left for CD. They care about each other so much!! And Ratchet chases after him!! HOLY SHIT. If that isn’t romance, what is?? lol I kid, but it’s obvious just how important Drift’s presence meant to him. IT’s really because they became so so so close in a way that can’t be described as just friends. They deeply understand each other in really uncomfortable ways and bring out the absolute worst and absolute best in each other. And this point is where Ratchet again appears when Drift doesn’t realize he needs someone in his life. Drift thinks he can be a loner and just float aimlessly and voicelessly--hell no! He needs friends, he needs community. He NEEDs belonging, because he wants to belong somewhere. And Ratchet helps bridge him back to friends and found family.  And Ratchet slowly changes the more he’s with Drift. He reads religious text and tries to brag about it bc he’s a dumb tsundere lol but he’s trying to understand Drift’s interests more even if it takes a decade and more to get there. And Drift values him for being his rock. That’s why he’s constantly making sure Ratchet is safe and unharmed, because he owes at least that much to him. And yeah they eventually fall in love because they value each other in a way they haven’t anyone else. IM EMO I CAN GO ONE, this all probably didn’t make a whole lot of sense but yeah. I’m just so soft to the fact that they’re horribly hurt people who don’t know how to redirect their pain, but by being together they come out healthier and more confident. IT’S RLY ROMANTIC IDKKK My non-romantic OTP for this character As much as I also love OpRatch, they are also great best friend platonic ship. They know each other best, they’ve been through SO MUCH together. It’s honestly a shame they barely interact in IDW bc the small tidbits we have, they obviously deeply respect each other’s opinions and deeply value the relationship they’ve had over the past millions of years.  I’m also all for non-romanceOTP for dratchet because I can totally imagine they go to each other to talk about things they feel uncomfortable sharing with others (they’ve seen the absolute worst of each other afterall).  My unpopular opinion about this character I don’t... think I ahve one. Some ppl view my love for his as grating lol.  One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. Medic spin off.

[alitoowell]

One year—365 days—and still I cannot find the words to do justice to the magnitude of gratitude that I feel, and will forever feel, for the magic that was October 22, 2017.  It’s funny because meeting Taylor was always in my mind as a possibility.  In that people DO meet her, so it’s possible.  But I always viewed it as possible, yet unachievable.  People would meet her, but they wouldn’t be ME.  Simply because the odds were too great of being noticed or picked from a crowd.  So I never planned out how it would go, or where, or what I would say, which left me even more absolutely floored when it happened.  Even a year later my brain cannot quite wrap around the fact that the woman who I’ve looked up to since I was 15, who’s music has been the soundtrack to my life for an entire decade, had me over at her house?  I got to hug her?  Dance with her?  And listen to her entire unreleased album and the stories behind it?  That seems unbelievable.  And it will always seem unbelievable because people. don’t. do. that.  But Taylor does.  My friends have been encouraging me for a whole year straight to type everything out, and I never quite got there.  The task seemed too great, I didn’t know where to start, or what words to choose to capture those memories adequately.  In one of those moments of frustration I realized I actually already had written nearly everything—in the no less than 63 messages I sent to my best friend Shaina less than 24 hours later on October 23, 2017.  Though it’s jumbled and not perfect in any way and contains the misspellings and keyboard smashes and all, here’s my Taylor story, a year later, as told the day after it happened—in message form.

~

I MET TAYLOR SWIFT SHDJEKJDKROF

I CANNOT BELIEVE MY LIFE

I HAVEN’T CRIED YET BUT ITS 4 AM AND I THINK ITS FINALLY HITTINGME

photo of wristband

SHE FUCKING DANCED WITH ME DURING LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO LIKE GRABBED MY HAND AND JAMMED WITH ME AS I WAS SHOUTING THE LYRICS GOODBYEEEEEEE

photo of merch

GOODBYEEEEEEEEE

Shaina: You’re lying

IM NOY IM NOT OH MY FOD OH MY FREAKINF GOD

PARKER THOUGHT I WAS DRUNK OF SOMETHING CUZ I WAS SHOUTING VIA TEXT ASKING IF HE WAS UP HOLT SHIT

Shaina: Ok. Spill. I’m shook.

Okay okay so I’m literally about ready to pass out I haven’t slept well since finding out last week and legit got two hours of afterwards last night, well this morning ahhh

And about to board my flight but I’ll try to type quick

So basically her team DMed me last Tuesday saying they’ve noticed what an amazing fan I am and asked for my information

And people have been making fake TN accounts and sending fake messages to be awful, and I thought it was fake because I never expected to ever be contacted

So I’m like in the gym parking lot thank god I didn’t see it while I was still at work

And I realize it has a blue verified check and that it’s legitimate and the last questions was have you ever met Taylor and I LOSE MY SHIT IM IN HYSTERICS IN THE CAR AND CALL MY MOM AND SHE THINKS I GOT IN AN ACCIDENT

So basically I’m a freaking ass mess because I’m 99% it’s for a secret session since at that point one had happened and we all assumed that there would be more cities, and I was almost positive they would NOT send that message to someone and not follow through and call and tell them SOMETHING

So I can’t sleep I leave my phone on cuz I don’t want to miss a call

It of course doesn’t come til the next day while I’m AT WORK

And they freaking ass knew my twitter and tumblr and asked for all my socials and I now know the people I talked to weren’t asked that so that’s weirddddd

Anyway so sure as hell it’s a ‘very special event’ and it’s all too secret and I can’t tell anyone except a parent for safety

And once I confirm I can get myself to LA she gives some instructions and said final details will be emailed  

And so that was Wednesday and I’m crying at work and their dinner was late lol

And I called my mom and was like this weekend Sunday book flights nowwwww

And then the quick version is for the next two days I was practically puking every day so nervous and the email wasn’t coming and I was like shitttttt

So finally on Friday I straight up call Taylor Nation back and get straight through and say my name and she’s like what’s up?! And she says they’re coming out later that day

And so I flew down Saturday and I rented my very first car and took my first legit solo trip in the name of Taylor freaking swift honestly I’m not surprised

And bless Briana’s fam’s heart they were out of town but let me stay in their guest apartment while they were away with no explanation so that was very nice and less stress for me

And then I had to sit from 3:30 Saturday until 5:15 Sunday in LA by myself unable to tell anyone and it was wilddddddd

Like I was like sweeeeeet I can get caught up in my journal!!!  Noooo I deadass sat there and felt like I was dying and about threw up hourly like how the freaking hell do you just casually chill when you know your damn outlandish never thought it would occur dream is about to happen and not only that but like on a times 100 scale?!?!

So basically I went to her damn house and we hung out by the pool and ate food and the weirdest part is I’ve been unable to eat and have been panicking all week but the second I got to the first check point and to her house even more I was just like chillllll like ayeeeee this is gonna be fun omg I’m so hungry and let’s eat all this food

And so basically it’s a listening session for the new album and we obviously can’t say anything about it or what she said about it besides like probs that it’s AWESOME OUTSTANDING IS GONNA SLAY THE WORLD AND SHES SO LROUD OF IT AND MY BABY DID THAT AND IM REAL PROUD

Okay okay but she like explained each song in-depth and was the cutest cupcake singing along fully jamming to everything and like looking at everyone the entire time and locking eyes as she’s singing ya feel

My flight is about to leave but I will continue later!!!!!

Shaina: This is insane I can’t believe it I’m beyond stoked for you safe travels and talk soon

Okay we not leaving quite yet sooooo I’m missing parts. So we are told we’re gonna go inside and sit down and I book it fast to get a spot on the ground like only two people sitting in front of me and there’s a red plush chair not even 10 feet away that she’ll obviously be sitting in and we’re all like sjedjekkdir

And I was wondering who all I would know there right!?? And was bummed there’s one girl I talk to frequently who loves Shawn Mendes and we know each other cuz she saw my Shawn poster on twitter and she’s from LA but I hadn’t seen her

And then someone pokes me and is like ALIIIIIIII AND ITS HER AND WE FLIP AND SXREAM SO LOUD THE WHOLE ROOM THOUGHT IT WAS TAY AND WAS PISSSSSSED AND SHUSHING US AND SOMEONES LIKE THEY KNOW EACH OTHER!!!!! HAHAHAHA

Shaina: This just keeps getting better and better. How did you keep this a secret?!?!?!?

Shaina: How many people were there

AND SO ANYWAY WE ALL THOUGHT TAYLOR WAS GONNA COME IN FROM THE FRONT AND SIT RIGHT DOWN??? AND ON THE BUS SOMEONE WAS LIKE YOOOOO WHAT IF SINCE TONIGHT IT’S IN LA SHE BRINGS FRIENDS????? AND SO SHE OF COURSE INSTEAD COMES FROM THE BACL AND THE DAMN ROOM EXPLODES AND SHE LOOKS LIKE A DAMN GODWESS AND SHE’S LIKE HIIIIIIIII AND GRINNING AND ALSO COMES IN JACK ANTANOF (SPELLING IDK IM CURRENTLY OFFLINE SO I CANT CHECK), TWO OF THE HAIM GIRLS, AND RUBY ROSE AND THE ROOM IS LIKE SHATTERING

AND SO SINCE SHE IN THE BACK SHE STARTS MAKING HER WAY THROUGHHHHHH US AND IS GRABBING PEOPLE AND PEOPLE ARE STANDING UP AND HUGGING HER AND HOLY CRAP

Okay lololol shoot I just woke up and didn’t realize the rest of this story was notttt in constant caps like I’ve been using all day my bad my bad

And so she’s playing the songs in order off the album and I think it’s okay to say that her and jack are losing their minds because they’ve never gotten to experience our reaction to new stuff they’ve worked on when they’re together, and definitely not together and in person, so she kept being like this is so cool for us you have no idea and he’s in the back confirming lololol

And so anyway she gets to Look What You Made me Do and she’s like soooo how do we want to do this??? Do we want to keep sitting do we want to dance…??? And we’re all like DANCEEEEEE SHDHIEOKRKR and shes like okayyyy we’re dancing and Shaina this is deadass like straight out of a dream.  Actually wait no I couldn’t have imagined this, but she starts and I was anticipating part of this but not the whole thing…

So she obviously doesn’t just have us bopping along and staying and dancing on her own up front… she starts making her way into our basically tiny crowd and we’re so packed together that she’s grabbing people’s hands so she doesn’t fall as she goes. And she’s stopping and dancing with people and stops and stays dancing like staring at one guy and he’s going for it and not afraid and singing the lyrics dramatically right back to her….

And then she makes her way towards and wait for it

GRABS MY DAMN HAND AS SHE’S TRYING TO GET FARTHER INTO THE MIDDLE AND I’M LIKE OKAY OKAY JUST CHILL SHE JUST GRABBED MY HAND NO BIGGIE AND IM LIKE SHES GONNA KEEP WALKING LIKE THAT WAS MY MOMENT RIGBT?!?!

NOOOOOOOOOOO SHE STOPS THERE ONCE SHES BY ME AND IS DANCING WITH THE PEOPLE THAT ARE AROUND HER BUT HER BACK IS TO ME AT THIS POINT BUT IM STILL LIKE HOLY SHIT WHAT IS LIFE AND THEN SHE FREAKING ASS TURNS THE HELL AROUND AND IS DANCING! WITH! ME! LIKE! SHES! LOOKING! AT! ME! AND IM LIKE JAMMING OF COURSE AND SCREAMING THE LYRICS AND I LITERALLT DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN

And then Vanessa (my Shawn buddy) at this point has scooted up to me cuz everyone’s shifted and the people around me are like dude holy shit SHE DANCED WITH YOUUUUU

BYEEEEEEEEEEEE

Okay okay so after the whole album was played she gave us like the lowdown on the meet and greet portion and she passed out the target exclusive magazines for us to see while we waited and talked a bit about the making of them and why and things and she’s really pumped about them and they worked really hard to have them be affordable as possible and cut down the pages and things

And meanwhile like the whole night she’s so close that people would make comments and she’d hear and respond and it was so cute and amazing

Also I don’t think I’ve mentioned her outfit yet???  She’s been looking bomb at all of the other sessions and holy helllll she looked bomb like damnnnnnnnn she had on a black crop top and these high waisted and slightly folded down camouflage pants and these black boots and her hairrrrrrr this era is like natural curls and soooo damn cute

Okay okay so anyway we thought it was a greattttt idea to wait towards the end so we could stay longer and not go first and be done and sent home… yeah well it ended up being a not great idea because we ended up waiting two hours but I’m obviously not complaining one freaking bit

And she’s doing pictures in the other room so we can’t really see much for most of it but every so often we can see people talking to her and taking photos and it’s so cute it’d melt your hearttttttt

And so those of us that have bonded together at this point are like um shoooooot what pose and what the hell do I say to her??????? Like all week to my parents I was like ummmmm soooooo I’ve imagined this happening but like never thought it’d actually happen so unlike some people I had nottttt planned like a monologue of what I’d want her to know if I ever met her???? Like with Vance I was lost too but with my posters it was easier and I’ve seen him recently and yada yada but this is TAYLOR FREAKING SWIFT WHO IVE LOVED WITH MY WHOLE DAMN HEART SINCE I WAS FIFTEEN AND SHIT IM TEARING UP ON THE PLANE WHAT THE HELL DO YOU SAY TO HER WHAT DO YOU WANT HER TO KNOW YOU’VE GOT LIKE TWO MINUTES WITH HER GOOOOO

And so we were all really curious if she’d somehow recognize us because people have been saying that they walk in and she shouted their name! And I’m like idk if that’s gonna happen but might as well see if not just ask if she’s seen anything idk idk???

So okay buckle up for like the greatest time of my entire damn life

So I walk in and hug herrrrrrrrrrrrr

And I wish to god I can remember everything she said but I was focusing so hard on keeping it together and saying my bit that I know for sure what I said and can put together mostly something the general sentiment of what she said if not it exactly. So we’re huggingggg and I say I think hiiiii it’s so nice to finally meet you thank you for having me I’m so excited to be here or something and she’s like awww thank you for coming!! And I’m like I have to know how did we all get picked, was it by you or your team or how did it happen?? And I don’t know what the first part of her answer was but she says so the people from LA have been picked for about a year, and the people from elsewhere (I’m guessing with exceptions) have been picked more recently like within the past few months so like now I know it has nothingggg to do with whatever we’ve been doing online recently…. It’s from at least when she first came back if not before and they realized we were active while she was away….

And so I’m like okay ali say something else so I’m like so I really like making concert posters and the first ones I ever made were for you and shes like aw thank you!! And I’m like I realized other people were making posters and I’d been a RA and I was like hey I can make some really bomb posters tooooo. And so I’m like the fist ones said ‘Taylor someday we’ll meet you even if it’s just in our wildest dreams’ and she grabs me and is like AND NOW WE’RE MAKING IT HAPPEN!!! And so I say after I got the phone call I was in my car listening to Ready For It and started bawling when she sings ‘in my dreams, I know I’m gonna be with you’ cuz I knew it was actually happening and shes like awwwwwww or something you get the idea

And so then I straight up start talking about my dad???

I’m like so my dad loves you and she’s like omg and I’m like no he adoresss youuu and is so sad he couldn’t come and she’s like awww tell him hi!!! And I’m like he loves your Out of the Woods piano Grammy performance and I say how I’d found him listening to it repeatedly and he wanted it on his phone. And she’s like he sounds amazing! And I’m like he is he’s awesome lol and I’m like actually and so him and I went and saw you at F1 last year and of course I’m like and I made signs for there too and so I describe them IN DETAIL like what they said, I realized later I told her I was from Oregon, because I said they were the states and the dotted line and the paper airplane and I think she really liked that??? And as if that all isn’t already insane enough at some point in there I mentioned how this month has been insane and how I’d met Vance Joy and it was my birthday and now this and she said something excitedly about that like ahhh so much excitement or idk something about it. And so she’s like so what pose would you like to do? And I’m like I’ve really been going back and forth between just hugging or doing something sort of funny (low key said that hoping she’d be like girl let’s do both but lololol it’s okay) so she’s like it’s completely up to you!! And I’m like um um okay let’s just hug so she grabs me and we take the freaking photo and ahhhhhhhh

And so Vanessa and I had it planned out and she had me go first and at this point I was like would it be okay if my friend and I got a photo with you together and she’s like of course!! So V comes in and hugs her and we take one photo together and she squeezes us together tight and then I hug her one last time and thank her and say I love you so much (lol I had to throw it in other people forgot it and have been upset) and then I walk out and they hand me my merch bag and are directing me to the bus but I’m like can I wait for my friend and they’re like sure. So she comes out and she’s like SHE KNEW MY NAME SHSJEKOFN and she’s like yelling and I’m like shut up and I grab her and I’m like shhh shhhhh hahahaha and so we walk to the bus and it’s the funniest thing cuz they’re just waiting for it to be full so anytime someone new walks on everyone’s like SPILLLLLLLLL

And then once it was full we went back got our things, exchanged details with people on that bus and took photos and whatnot and turned our phones on to the madness anddddddd so well thats the story of the best damn day of my life

~

Taylor, thank you thank you thank for giving me such incredible memories that I’ve blown up the phones of every person I know, and have talked every person’s ears off that I’ve met during these past 365 days, about how special they are to me.  Thank you for making it happen, thank you for holding my gaze so intently and being so genuine every second I was talking to you, thank you for bringing me some of the best friends I’ve ever had, thank you for being so prominent in the highlights of not only this past year, but this past decade.  I love you forever, babe.  Long, long live October 22, 2017.

[neon-mooni]

FACADE STAGEPLAY Thu Jan 31 05 31 29 2019

TRIP Where are the new wine glasses?

GRACE What for?

TRIP That should be obvious!

GRACE Oh God, Trip, don't turn this into a big production, please!

TRIP Jesus Grace, come on, I'm not asking a lot here!

GRACE What -- Trip, don't give me that look!

(Janet knocks on the front door.)

(Janet opens the front door.)

TRIP Uhp, she's here!

GRACE What?! You told me it'd be an hour from now!

TRIP No, she's supposed to be here now!

GRACE God... Trip!

TRIP Janet!!

TRIP Hey!   It's been too long!     How are you doing,  you look great!

JANET Bitch freaking teleported!

TRIP Uh...

TRIP Well, anyway... why don't you come in...

TRIP Uh, let me go get Grace...

GRACE No, no, here we are!

(JANET knocks on the front door.)

(JANET closes the front door.)

GRACE Janet,

GRACE Hi!  How are you?  I'm so happy to see you after so long!

TRIP Yeah, it's been too long.

(JANET kisses trip.)

TRIP Oh, ha ha!  Thanks. Ha.

(JANET kisses grace.)

GRACE Oh, yes,

GRACE mm-wah! (kiss on cheek)

GRACE How sweet.

GRACE So, please, make yourself at home!

GRACE Janet,  seeing you again makes me remember the wonderful times we all used to have.

GRACE   H-mmm (happy smile sound)

TRIP Ha ha, yeah... -- (interrupted)

JANET Like when we used to have sex?

TRIP Ha ha!  Oh I think we're going to need some drinks first if we're going to talk about sex.

GRACE Trip, come on, that's not funny.

TRIP (little sigh) Some days you're the dog, some days you're the hydrant.

TRIP Hey, I just realized something.

GRACE What...

TRIP Oh, tonight's a special night!  A celebration in fact!

GRACE It is?

TRIP Janet,  remember, it was almost exactly ten years ago, tonight, that you introduced us.

TRIP Senior year of college!

GRACE Oh... geez...

TRIP Remember that?

JANET Uhhh

TRIP Um, well, without you, we wouldn't even have this celebration.

TRIP Oh,    Janet,  take a look at this photo I just put up from our trip to Italy a couple of weeks ago...

GRACE (little sigh)

TRIP Janet,  Come here, I want you to look at this! -- (interrupted)

GRACE Janet,  come over here and sit on the couch with me.

TRIP No, hold on.  Now,      Janet,  what does this picture make you think of?

GRACE Oh, Trip, don't put our friend on -- (interrupted)

JANET Protection

TRIP Mmm... no...

GRACE I like that, that's a good answer...!

TRIP (little sigh) No just take a look,  this says...

JANET Walls

TRIP Romance!  It says... romance...!

GRACE (little sigh)

TRIP Actually I took this -- (interrupted)

(JANET hugs trip.)

TRIP Oh! ha ha, you're hugging me!

GRACE Janet,  careful, too much affection can go to Trip's head...

TRIP (clears throat)

(Trip shakes the advice ball.)

TRIP Perhaps.

TRIP Heh!

GRACE (little sigh)

(JANET sits on the couch.)

GRACE Yes, you can help me understand where I went wrong with my new decorating, ha ha.

(JANET gets up from the couch.)

TRIP Grace, oh, no, we don't need to do that.

GRACE Uhh, what I wanted with this room was some kind of post-modern style...

TRIP Yeah, yeah...!

JANET The pictures don't match.

GRACE Ugh...

GRACE Uhh, you know, when I look at this wedding picture, hanging here in this room...

TRIP There's nothing wrong with it...

GRACE it obviously just does not go anymore... with my new decorating, I mean, heh.

TRIP (little impatient sigh) -- (interrupted)

JANET It's creepy.

TRIP Well, it's funny how after a full day's work designing magazine ads, Grace finds the time to decorate... and re-decorate...

GRACE Ha ha, uhh, I guess it's just the artist in me dying to get out.

JANET Trip how was your day?

TRIP What?  No, I'm good, we're good, everything's good...

TRIP (clears throat)

TRIP Grace, it seems no one has a problem with your decorating...

GRACE Trip, that's what you always say, but believe me, this room needs to be redone.  Uhh, first chance I get I'm going to return whatever furniture they're willing to take ba

TRIP Okay, okay, I tried...    -- (interrupted)

JANET Let's have a drink.

TRIP Oh, yeah, I'm gonna fix us some drinks in a sec!

TRIP Good news, I just fully loaded the bar, with the real quality stuff... only the best for my guests.

JANET Scotch.

TRIP Yeah, hang on, ooh, I'm going to make you one of my fabulous drinks in just a minute!

GRACE Uhh,    Janet,  try not to encourage him.

(Trip shakes the advice ball.)

TRIP Heh -- it's not a good idea, heh.

TRIP Ha ha, ha, this crazy thing, always giving me the wrong advice, heh.

(JANET uses the answering machine.)

ANSWERING MACHINE No new messages

(JANET picks up the phone.)

GRACE Trip, are you going to carry that thing around all evening?

TRIP (frustrated -- (interrupted)

JANET 9-1-1

GRACE Ugh... let's not talk about that anymore, I'm redoing the whole place anyway. -- (interrupted)

(JANET puts down the phone.)

TRIP (little sigh)

TRIP Ah,    Janet,  I'm sorry, you didn't come here to hear this...

GRACE What?

JANET It's okay.

GRACE What?  No, I, I'm -- I'm fine, we're fine, everything's fine...  -- (interrupted)

(JANET hugs trip.)

GRACE God... you're really laying it on thick tonight!

GRACE You know what... I'll be right back.

TRIP Grace, sweetie, wait --

GRACE No, no, stay put, I'll just be in the kitchen.

JANET What the fuck did I do?

TRIP (frustrated sigh)

TRIP Um, Grace, darling, could you --

JANET Trip is Grace abusing you?

TRIP could you bring out some of that prosciutto, you know, that we served at our last party?

TRIP Heh heh, Grace is a whiz with hors doeurves.  You should, uh, -- (interrupted)

JANET Trip does Grace hit you?

TRIP Uhh, Jesus, why are we all having this... misunderstanding... tonight... uhh...

TRIP (frustrated sigh)

JANET Trip does Grace abuse you?

TRIP I -- I hope you don't think... mmm... there's... there's nothing... heh...

TRIP Uh, heh heh, Grace has been really, stressed out lately, I try to calm her down and get her to relax, but... uhh...

JANET Do you need help?

TRIP wha... you... eh... uh...

TRIP um...

GRACE (BREAKING DISHES SOUND IN KITCHEN)

TRIP Jesus, what was that?

GRACE Argh!

TRIP Grace, what happened?

JANET You can leave her.

TRIP Uhh!  Heh!  You... wha... oh... heh heh...

TRIP Hey -- hey, uh...   Janet,

TRIP I meant to tell you, we're going to have this big, big party next weekend.

TRIP Do you -- do you think you can make it?  

TRIP It's gonna be great.

JANET Sure

TRIP Sweet...

TRIP Hey, hey, uh -- why don't you, um... invite that woman in accounting you were telling me about... um...

TRIP What was her name...

TRIP Vanessa?

GRACE Who?

TRIP Uhh... Oh!  Uh, it's, uh, she -- she -- she's a, she -- she's this interesting woman that, uh, our friend works with.

JANET Nobody

TRIP She's, uh... into what, skydiving... or was it scuba diving...?

GRACE Janet,  you've been telling Trip about interesting women at your work? -- (interrupted)

JANET No

(Trip shakes the advice ball.)

TRIP Not gonna happen.

TRIP Uhh...

GRACE Oh God, Trip, if I have to hear that thing one more time, I'm going to go insane, please! -- (interrupted)

JANET It's not like that.

TRIP Just leave my little advice toy out of this, okay?  It's not hurting anyone, it just gives advice!

TRIP So... drinks...

TRIP This is great... For us I'm going to open an amazing, I mean, exquisite Bordeaux.   -- (interrupted)

JANET Scotch

TRIP W -- well, uh, I'm going to open an exquisite Bordeaux!

TRIP Best of the best, you can't buy this in stores... Very, very special --

JANET Scotch

GRACE God Trip, -- (interrupted)

TRIP No no I really think we should have this wine, trust me, trust me! -- (interrupted)

JANET Scotch

GRACE Janet,  maybe you'd like some juice, or a mineral water?

TRIP Yeah, no, we need to open this wine!  Our friend is here, we're going to enjoy ourselves, that's all there is to it!

JANET Yes

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

TRIP I've been dying to try this Bordeaux for a long time, this is the perfect opportunity --

GRACE That's not our anniversary wine is it?

GRACE That's not the Bordeaux we saved from our wedding, that we were going to drink on our tenth wedding anniversary, RIGHT?!

TRIP Whoops.

TRIP Uhh, you're driving me insane!

JANET You fxxing dumbass

TRIP Goddamn anniversary wine... -- (interrupted)

GRACE Huh?  What are you saying to me?

TRIP Grace, I do one little thing wrong, and you're cold and distant!  Just one thing wrong, that's all it takes!

GRACE (impatient sigh)     Janet,  I...

GRACE (frustrated sigh) -- (interrupted)

JANET Grace chill out.

GRACE Yeah, okay, again with that, okay...

TRIP My goddamn advice ball...

TRIP I like my advice ball, it's just a little thing I like, but you look down on it, like it's some sort of low class piece of shit!

GRACE Oh, my God...!

JANET It's not a big deal.

GRACE Alright, you know what,     Janet,

GRACE I'm going to ask you something.

TRIP Grace --

GRACE Trip, let me ask our guest a question.

GRACE Janet,  yes or no...

GRACE In a marriage, shouldn't one person try to make their spouse a better person, even if they don't want it?

TRIP What?

GRACE I mean, even if they don't actually want it, shouldn't you help your spouse understand a better way -- (interrupted)

JANET No. That's called abuse.

GRACE What...?!

GRACE Oh, alright... yes...

GRACE Don't you see, Trip?!  Our marriage... is a sham, Trip!  Don't you see that?  It's all fake, all pretend...

TRIP Oh, Jesus...!

TRIP Uhh!  Yeah, go on, go away!  

TRIP I can't even frigging look at you.

TRIP What the... goddammit!

JANET Trip, leave her.

TRIP Wait, what, are you trying to explain this to me?

GRACE What? Are you talking to me?

TRIP What's it to you?

JANET She's abusive.

TRIP Janet,  this has never ever happened before...!

TRIP uhh...

JANET You don't have to lie to me Trip.

TRIP Look, if -- (interrupted)

GRACE Janet,  (annoyed sigh) Trip is just so...

TRIP Oh ho, so we're talking about me, are we?

GRACE What?

GRACE Damn it, Trip, you and my parents are always planning these stupid trips I have to go on..

TRIP They're vacations! Expensive ones at that!

GRACE Of course nobody thinks to ask me -- (interrupted)

JANET Uh you could say no.

GRACE No?

TRIP Ah, you want to know more. Thank you, that helps her. Grace, you never want to go on vacation with me and your parents - so I have to plan everything!

GRACE Uhh..

GRACE No let's -- let's focus on us, our relationship.

GRACE I think Trip's afraid of visiting his parents. He does everything he can to avoid seeing them.

TRIP Afraid of my parents?! My parents are idiots.

JANET I think you're controlling.

GRACE No, it's true... -- (interrupted)

TRIP Aha!

GRACE Where did that come from?  You're making no sense!

TRIP Look, let's talk about us both, not just one of us.

TRIP You know what makes me so angry?  

GRACE What?

TRIP How you've so conveniently forgotten how much you used to actually hate painting!

GRACE Janet,  I -- I -- uhh...!

JANET Grace is abusive.

GRACE Let's talk some more about us, our relationship.

TRIP Grace, even though you're now a creative director at work,

(JANET sits on the couch.)

TRIP the truth is... you're not an artist.

GRACE Uhh...!

TRIP I'm sorry, you're not.

GRACE Janet,  uhh...

JANET You need therapy.

TRIP Aha!

GRACE Janet,  Therapy?

TRIP Actually I think therapy could cure Grace of her obsession with being an artist --

GRACE I'm not the one with the problem, Trip, you have the problem with art, not me --

TRIP and we could stop wasting our time and money on all this redecorating!  

GRACE Uhh,    Janet,

JANET You're spiraling.

GRACE I don't need some goddamn shrink to tell me I'm repressed or something, okay?

GRACE Uhh, this is insane...

TRIP Okay, no, I want to focus on Grace.

GRACE Trip, how could I ever imagine trying to be an artist,  when you get so angry any time I mention painting!

TRIP Uhh...

GRACE Janet,  I can't take it anymore...

JANET Then leave!

TRIP No, see, Grace, you're the one who can't stop obsessing about how you 'could've been an artist'.  

TRIP It's not me.

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Look, let's not focus on just me or you, let's talk about us.

GRACE Janet,  you -- you blame me for all this, don't you?

TRIP See, I don't think you really want to be an artist.   -- (interrupted)

JANET Yes

GRACE Yes?

GRACE Oh my God... you think I'm lying!

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Uhh, you... uhh... does anyone... uhh...

GRACE Uhh...

JANET You two need a divorce.

GRACE Aha!

TRIP D -- divorce?     Janet,  you think we should get a divorce?  

JANET Yes.

GRACE Yes?

TRIP This is bullshit...!   you're saying it's over, we should just give up...?!

TRIP Oh, geez...

JANET Yes.

GRACE Yes?

TRIP Let's talk some more about us both.

TRIP Grace, we don't -- we don't have to do this... things are okay, we can just --

GRACE Janet,  I can't stand the pretending anymore... I can't take it!

TRIP No, Grace, we can... I mean, come on, don't make it out to be so bad...

GRACE Uhh...

TRIP You know, I can't say Grace never acts loving towards me...

TRIP Janet,  She's all over me at our goddamn parties, trying to look good in front of the guests!

JANET Do you love Trip?

GRACE Uhh...

GRACE Look, I think we should focus on Trip.

TRIP Janet,  you know, it's weird to me, when I'm on a business trip, Grace never calls me, ever!

GRACE Uhh...

TRIP She says she's afraid to call me!

JANET Why?

TRIP Why?

GRACE Ah, you want to know more... see, that might help him...

TRIP Uh, what?!  I, I -- I, I mean, why, is -- is it something I'm... uhh...

TRIP You know... uhh...

TRIP Look, let's talk about us both, not just one of us.

TRIP It's so annoying... Grace, why is it that anytime I want to do something nice for you, you resist it?

GRACE Trip...

TRIP  Like I always have to convince you?

GRACE Janet,  you know, we... uhh...

JANET Because it's gaudy!

TRIP It's just never easy with you, Grace, and it wears me down.

GRACE (frustrated sigh)

JANET You don't need to be rich.

TRIP Look around here. We're doing well, really well.

GRACE God, Trip, I can't believe even now you're still... -- (interrupted)

JANET No.

TRIP No?

GRACE Janet,  thank you, that helps him.

TRIP Well, I -- I mean, this place, it...  it -- it's everyone's dream, right?

JANET No.

TRIP Okay, I've had enough of this bullshit!!

TRIP Janet,  I know what you're trying to hint at...

TRIP about me...

TRIP about our lifestyle...

TRIP Do you two want the truth?  Huh?  

JANET Yes.

TRIP Grace, huh?

GRACE Yes...!

TRIP See,    Janet,  I've been paying attention to what you've been saying tonight.

TRIP You've been pushing me tonight.

TRIP And I wonder, are you really my friend or not.

GRACE Trip!

TRIP Janet,  I ask you this -- yes or no...

JANET Fuck you Trip

TRIP Do you really think that...

TRIP kissing me...

TRIP suggesting that we get divorced...

TRIP and what you said about trying to change the other person...

TRIP that I'm supposed to realize something about myself from all that?

TRIP Is what you've said tonight supposed to add up somehow, to something?

TRIP Is it?  I just want a yes or no.

TRIP This is not a trick question.

TRIP No?  Huh... I'm surprised you say that, I thought it did.

TRIP Grace...

TRIP uhh...

TRIP I'm -- I'm just... af -- afraid of... of being poor.

GRACE Poor?  Trip, we have so much! What do you --

JANET Why?

TRIP It never feels like enough!

TRIP As a kid... it -- it was...   My family was always on the edge.

GRACE So you weren't rich, but --

TRIP We even spent six months in a shelter once.

GRACE Oh my God...!

JANET Oh my God

TRIP All of this stuff...

TRIP Is a kind of protection from that ever happening again.  

TRIP uhh...

JANET I'm so sorry.

GRACE uhh...

GRACE Oh my God...!

TRIP Janet,  I --

GRACE Janet,  I --

TRIP What?!

(JANET gets up from the couch.)

GRACE What?!

GRACE This changes everything...

TRIP Yes, it does change everything.

TRIP I think it's over.

GRACE Trip, what --

TRIP No!!

TRIP It's over, Grace, can't you see that?

GRACE Wha... You just told me --

TRIP I just told you something about me I should have said a long time ago:

JANET (claps loudly)

TRIP I'm afraid of being poor.

TRIP And no,    Janet,  uhh, hold on...

(JANET knocks on the front door.)

(JANET opens the front door.)

GRACE Trip, no, I... we...

TRIP No, Grace, this is about me.  I see now it's not about you, or about our marriage.

GRACE Me...?  Our -- our marriage...?  Hey, no, wait!

TRIP Janet,  I'm sorry.  Thank you, though, you really helped me.

GRACE Trip!

(Trip closes the front door.)

[iadorayou-blog]

Hide - Chapter 2

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Allura won’t stop bothering me about this party. ‘Keith, have you decided what to wear to the party?’ Or ‘Keith, do you know what you’re gonna talk to Lance about yet?’ And other various questions relating to Lance and or the party that I don’t have the answer to. I don’t know if I’m ready to face Lance yet, let alone flirt with him.

“Lura, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” Allura sounded genuinely confused.

“Ya know, our deal, talking to Lance. I don’t think I can do it I’ve never talked to him outside of theater. I’m in over my head.” I explained sounding defeated.

“What do you mean you can’t do it? Think of it this way you talk to Lance at the party and it goes well, then you’ll have a new friend, possibly more, and a weeks supply of cosmic brownies.” She tried to be encouraging.

“Or I fail, he never wants to talk to me again, and then I’m just a loser with brownies made for kids.”

Allura sighs, “Keith, I love you, but you’re insane. I highly doubt you’ll be able to say anything that terrible. At most you’ll awkwardly stutter something about being gay, panic and then run away. But Lance is nice he will understand if you’re nervous.” It actually sounded reassuring.

“Okay, you’re probably right. I just don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of the guy you think I have a chance with.”

“Keith, you do have a chance with him. You could start slow, maybe talk to him in homeroom today? Something about theatre, maybe a show you know he’s worked on or seen? Or the show you’re working on right now?” Allura suggests.

“We don’t know the show yet and I don’t know what I’d say about any other shows.”

“That’s perfect! You can make bets about what the show is gonna be.” Allura exclaims.

“Okay but I never talk to him or his friends how am I supposed to just bring that up? ‘Hey, guys what show do you think the directors picked?’ They’d know something was up that’s so unlike me.”

“Ask them if they know the show and just go from there. They’ll either make bets right away or say no and you can just lead into making bets about it.”

“Allura, you’re kind of a genius ya know that?” She always has a solution to everything.

“Thanks, Keith, I try my best.” She chuckled out.

We walked into the school together, Allura tells me how she won a debate in her government class. I’m not surprised, she’s great at arguing and is the most articulate person I know. Like I said to her before, she’s a genius both in social situations and education wise.

Before we knew it the bell was ringing and we had to part ways for homeroom. I’m anxious we made a genuinely feasible plan for me to strike up a conversation with Lance to make talking to him at the party easier. Update I’m terrified of course I want to talk to him and get to know him but I have never have attempted talking to anyone with the intention to become friends or possibly more. We made a plan though, I just have to seem like my only interest is if they know what show we’re doing this season. I can do this. I wish Allura was here to reassure me. She would tell me that it’s just a tiny question to start a tiny conversation it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s just to help me become more comfortable with starting conversations.

“Hey guys, I’m dying of curiosity do you have any ideas about what this season’s show is going to be?” I did it and I didn’t sound as nervous as I thought I would.

“I have no idea, but I really hope that we’re doing Little Shop Of Horrors!” Lance exclaimed excitedly.

“Lance, you say that every year and you’ve been Seymore twice already. I personally hope that we’re doing a tech-heavy show. Something I can make the audience feel like they’re having an acid trip!” Pidge interjected.

“Have you ever had an acid trip before?” Hunk asks doubtfully.

“Of course not! I don’t want to corrupt this mind! Matt has had though so I know what it’s like.” Pidge defended.

“Of course Matt has. Anyways what are you hoping it will be, Keith?” Lance questioned. Lance just showed an actual interest in my opinion, I am in love with him.

“Hey! I was gonna ask him that!” Hunk interrupts.

“I wasn’t,” Pidge adds on. “Ow! Lance, what the fuck was that for why’d you elbow me?” Pidge yelled at Lance.

“Pidge this is the first time Keith has ever tried to talk to me- us. I’m not going to let you make it the only.” Lance tells Pidge quietly. Or at least he tried to be quiet but he could have done better. Lance actually wants to talk to me? Today has been wild and it’s only 8:27.

“Sorry about that Keith,” Lance starts.

“I wouldn’t want to deprive you of his ‘pretty lips’” Pidge interrupted. “Ow! Again seriously Lance?” Apparently, Lance kicked her this time.

“Pidge if you don’t shut up,” Lance began.

“What are you going to kick me again? I have more information I can spill Lance you should be nice to me.” Pidge said darkly.

Lance crossed his arms and turned away from Pidge to look at me, “Anyways, what are you hoping the show will be again?” Well, shit, I was flattered at first but I realized I didn’t go into the conversation with an idea about what to say I wanted the show to be. I start to panic again.

“I really like Little Shop Of Horrors too! I haven’t been able to be a part of that show so that would be fun I guess.” Falls out of my mouth. It wasn’t necessarily a lie but if I had more time to consider this I probably would have chosen differently.

“See! Keith agrees with me!” Lance said excitedly. He’s so cute. I’m glad I said that his reaction was precious.

“Okay class sit down, today we’re gonna talk about special effects!” I went to sit back down, Lance looked like he had something to say but I just chose to end the conversation, today was just to help me gain my confidence for at the party where’d I’d make some real moves. It did work I feel better about starting conversations with Lance now. It seems like he wants to talk to me too.

The day continues as normal I go to my classes and don’t talk to anyone. I saw Lance in the hall a few times and he smiled and waved. Why does a small ordinary gesture have such power? How did one short conversation improve my day so much?

It’s the next day, after telling Allura what happened she encouraged me to keep up the conversation with him. I told I would if I could. I genuinely want to get to know Lance more it’s just hard to have conversations with him. It’s not like we don’t have good conversations or that we don’t want to talk, it’s just draining still I have to think over every single thing I let come out of my mouth. Talking to him feels so natural and nice but I’m still worried I’m going to mess things up. It’s hard to not worry about that. I only consistently talk to three people Shiro, Allura, and Coran. I’ve been used to them for years I don’t have to overthink things with them anymore. With Lance, there’s still a chance I could mess things up and make him hate me. I hope that doesn’t happen.

I walk into class and I immediately hear Lance call my name.

“Hey! Keith! Why don’t you come sit with us!” I was not expecting that, but hey I’m not going to complain. “The seat right next to me is open.” Lance continued.

“Wait, doesn’t Pidge sit there though?” I inquired.

“She moved to go sit next to Hunk so you could sit next to me,” Lance replied.

“Oh, that was nice. Yeah, sure I’ll sit next to you.” I take the desk next to Lance. They’re arranged to where the edges of the desks are touching so it’s like a big table. Meaning mine and Lance’s desks are touching making them just inches apart. Lance turns in his seat to face me. His knee rests on the side of my leg I expect it to be awkward but it’s weirdly comfortable. It’s like it’s not even there.

“So, Keith, how are you today?” Oh boy, small talk. It’s not dreadful at least, Lance somehow manages to make the most boring conversations fun.

“I’m not bad, I’m sort of tired but not like that’s new. How are you?” I responded.

“I’m actually in a pretty good mood today! I woke up early so I did a face mask, and then I got a coffee, and now I’m talking to you. So I’m good!” He sounded so confident but his cheeks were pretty red.

“Am I really that great of company? You barely know me. I mean you’re really good at keeping me entertained.” Hopefully, that wasn’t too much.

“Yes, you are! You’re excellent company. True I don’t know you that well but you’re fun to get to know. That’s why I asked you to sit next to me.” Since that was Lance’s response I guess it’s safe to say that wasn’t too much. He needs to stop being nice to me I’m gonna fall hard.

“Well, that’s good to know. I’m sometimes not great at holding conversations. I’m kinda awkward too. I don’t really talk to a lot of people.” I confessed.

“Don’t worry about it Keith it’s cute,” Lance started but was cut off by my sudden coughing fit. This boy really does not know what he’s doing to me. I’m the awkward kid. Some people even say I’m selectively mute. Which really isn’t too far off. I’ve never been called cute nor have my awkward tendencies been called cute.

Pidge and Hunk who were having their own conversation also have stopped talking due to me choking on my own spit. “Keith? Dude? You okay?” Hunk asks. Lance is just stunned into silence he looks panicked like he thinks I’m about to die.

“Jesus Lance, what did you do? Go easy on the poor guy, he’s a hermit coming out of his shell for the first time.” Pidge jokes. “Ha coming out, because you’re both not straight.”

“Pidge you’re terrible,” Lance replies. “Do you need some water, Keith?” He asks me.

My choking has calmed down enough for me to utter the words, “No no, I’m fine, I just breathed in saliva. Wow, that’s gross sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, man. Sorry if what I said you weren’t ready for or whatever I can be a little forward sometimes…” Lance said shyly.

“Yes and no, it more just caught me off guard. People don’t usually talk to me, or call me cute, so I guess I was just surprised. But thanks I guess?” I replied.

“What do you mean no one calls you cute? I figured people would be all over you with your mysterious, quiet, hot, thing going on.” Lance said still not realizing what he’s doing. At least I didn’t have a coughing fit this time. However, I did turn into a tomato.

“Yeah most people just don’t notice me and if they do they just pretend I don’t exist,” I responded.

“Alright class, we briefly talked about special effects last class. Today we’re gonna start a project with your table groups, there should be a small slip of paper on each table saying which special effect type you will be learning about.” Slav says.

“Dang it! We’re makeup! I was hoping we’d get sound, I love working sound.” Pidge practically yelled.

“I’m actually really excited I’ve always wanted to learn more about special effects makeup but I all I ever do is build. I love building but this will be fun!” Hunk replies.

We all pull out devices to start researching after we decided to do a slide show and demonstration to both inform and give an in-person example. Conversations come to a close so we can get to work. It’s Wednesday and we have to be able to present on Friday. We ended up getting pretty close to being done, we just need to work out our in-class example. Lance said he wanted to put makeup on me, but I’m not sure about that. The most makeup I’ve worn is a brown mascara. He wants to make me look like a zombie. He said if my skin breaks out he “owes” me, I don’t quite know what he means by that.

The class was soon over and Lance was following me out the door. “Hey! Keith! Thanks for agreeing to let me put makeup on you, Pidge would kill me if I even asked her and Hunk cannot sit still it wouldn’t go well. I look forward to making you ugly if that’s even possible.” Lance mumbled the last part.

“Funny Lance, I don’t think you’ll have to try too hard for that.” I joked with him.

“Excuse me? I think I might have to go through marathon training for this project - it might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done!”

“Okay, yeah, sure I’ll let you believe that. Hey, I got to go this way, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will. Bye, Keith.” His response was short and flirtatious, it was like he didn’t need any more words to convey his emotions. It felt like he wanted nothing more than to see me.

I get to call Shiro today it’s only been three days since school started and I have so much to tell him. Lance is bi, I’m making friends, I think Lance and I are flirting. Okay so maybe it’s not that much but it’s definitely more than every past year.

Shiro told me to just call him when I got home from school and that since it was his day off he’d be waiting for my call. Even though he said I could just call I chose to send him a text saying I was opening up Skype and would be calling him in a few minutes. My computer is slow because it was Shiro’s old one but the only way I’ll get a new one is if I buy it myself so I make do with what I have.

As soon as I get Skype booted up I’m calling him. He answers after one set of rings. “Hey, Keith how are you?” Shiro started excitedly.

“I’m good how’s military life treating you?” I responded.

“Not bad, I’m finally at the point where these workouts aren’t leaving me sore anymore. Hey, you don’t mind if my - uh - roommate is here, do you? He’s making us pancakes right now. Say hi to my brother, Adam!” Shiro seems a bit nervous. I think it has to do with his “roommate”... I hear a quiet “hey, dude!” in the background, I can only assume comes from Adam.

“Yeah, I don’t mind as long as he’s not homophobic. Hi Adam!” I try to sound like I don’t suspect anything.

“Pfffft Shiro your little brother is funny,” I hear loud footsteps heading in the direction of Shiro, “kid, I’m as gay as it gets!” Adam is now on screen smiling wide, bowl and whisk in hand.

“Adam, you just got pancake batter on my face!” Shiro exclaimed, I look and he indeed did have a drop of pancake batter on his cheek closest to Adam.

“Sorry let me help you with that,” Adam uses his thumb to wipe the little bit of batter off his face and promptly puts his thumb in his mouth then pulls it out with a pop and winks at Shiro, “there we go, all better,” Adam said as he turned and walked away.

Shiro is left sitting there face bright red, mouth agape, and looking extremely confused. “Adam, you’re always saying how bad for you it is to eat raw batter!” He said still looking dumbfounded.

“That was an exception it was already out of the bowl and on your face, I couldn’t just mix it back in! Talk to your brother, I’m busy.” Adam replied nonchalantly.

Shiro didn’t have to say anything because the look on his face said it all. He was wearing the look of ‘I have no idea what just happened but I’m gay?’ All I can do is laugh at him. “Anyways how have the first few days of school been?” Shiro needed a way to change the subject.

“Eventful, to say the least. So the first day Lance, as in the Lance I’ve had homeroom with for the past two years and have had kinda a crush on, came out as bi. So obviously I freaked out and told Allura and she said she’d give me cosmic brownies for a week if I talked to him at this party we’re going to on Friday. So I took the deal but was super nervous so she was like ‘try easing into it maybe start a small conversation with him about class or something.’ So I did and then today he invited me to sit with him, Pidge, and Hunk. Now that I’m saying it all out loud t doesn’t sound like that much but this is more social interaction than I’ve had in the past two years or high school combined so for me it was eventful.” I finished my ramble.

“Wow, Keith for you that does sound like a lot. I’m proud, you actually started a conversation with Lance?” Shiro asked.

“Yes! I actually started a conversation with him! I asked if he had any ideas what the fall show was going to be. He said he had no idea but hoped it was ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’ He then asked what I would hope it would be but before I could answer Hunk was like ‘dude I was gonna ask him that!’ And Pidge was like ‘ha I wasn’t.’ And then Lance elbowed her and they argued because Lance said that since I never started a conversation with them before that she should be nice to me to not drive me away or something and then she said, and I quote ‘sorry wouldn’t want to deprive you of his perfect lips,’ to Lance. Which insinuates that Lance thinks I have perfect lips. After they argued a bit more Lance decided to move on and ask me again what I was hoping the show was going to be, but I hadn’t been prepared to answer so I said that Little Shop is a fun show and then the bell rang so I ran away to my seat.” I had a lot to talk about with him.

Shiro and I continued to talk for a little while longer, mostly talking about the party on Friday because I have to talk to him about something not school related but school has been the only conversation starters I’ve had because it’s the only place I see him. Shiro suggests finding something at the party to talk about as an opener, but Adam immediately cut him off, “Do not do that that’s the worst dating advice I’ve ever heard, you should ask him about himself it shows interest and makes the other person like you more! Shiro literally knows nothing about flirting.” Adam started to walk away and Shiro made a mixture of a confused and offended face.

At this point, I was done talking about myself and got Shiro to update me on how military life is going. Almost everytime Shiro started talking about something new Adam would butt in because Shiro “got something wrong.” Adam makes Shiro flustered, in a good way, Shiro doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing all this to flirt with him. Adam’s flirting style is gently teasing to annoy Shiro to a certain point and then finishing off by being sweet or seductive, which ends up leaving Shiro confused and blushing. We finally finished catching up right around the time Coran was calling me down for dinner, we said our goodbyes and promised to talk next week and catch up again. We know we could always text but I personally prefer being able to ramble and convey my emotions and thoughts without having to think about how it’s going to be perceived. If he can hear and see me he won’t be able to misunderstand my feelings.

Dinner was uneventful, Allura and I talked about our days, I tell them that Shiro’s roommate Adam is obviously crushing on and flirting with Shiro while he remains confused and oblivious. After I finished eating I went to my room to work on my homework. While I manage to finish I couldn't stop thinking about everything. How Lance acts around me, how I get to sit by him during class, how on Friday I have to actually flirt with him, and a billion other things. Most of what traveled through my mind had to do with Lance.

The way he flirts is odd, he chooses to be direct, but shy. He jumps in right away, but then realizes he doesn’t know how to read my reactions and apologizes. He does so well at being in the tiny space between being too subtle and being too forward. He’s so conscious of both the intent and perception of his words and actions. It really shows how much he cares. That boy has more heart than anyone in the entire world.

[theunderdogwrites]

Ten "Suggestions" For A New World

I was raised in the Roman Catholic faith. Went to church every Sunday with my family from the time I was four until the age of 19. I was baptized, received my first communion and attended CCD classes (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine). And just for fun and out of curiosity, I've read the bible (New Testament) three times. [I want to quickly share with you the meaning of the word "confraternity": 'a lay brotherhood devoted to some purpose, especially to religious or charitable service'. Already its clear women are not really welcome.]

Once I was free to make my own choices, I stopped going to church. To be honest with you, I couldn't hear myself think over the constant propaganda being served to me by an elderly ornery priest wearing a $2500 robe and asking me to kneel at a $10,000 marble alter while attempting to guilt me into giving the church money to help feed the poor. I've never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but I knew something wasn't quite right with this religion. A friend of mine introduced me to the term "recovering Catholic" and I've adopted it as my own.

Do I believe in God? What... a terribly complicated question. In short, yes. In length, I believe in something I can't put my finger on and it has a name. I know I talk to this Universe character a great deal, maybe that’s it? Anyway, the God I believe in... that something with a name I can't accurately put my finger on - is about kindness and compassion, respect, acceptance, tolerance and love. And I mean, for real. Not just because it sounds good in your mouth.

Have you ever looked up the meaning of TOLERANCE?

‘allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one does not necessarily like or agree with) without interference’

The fact I’ve not yet killed anyone, means I am a highly tolerant being. Ego stroke.

You may have your own opinions and beliefs; in fact, I encourage you to form your own opinions and sift through what you do and don't believe. But let other people find their own way. Be who they are to be and if it's a different path than yours... don't tell them they're going to Hell. All that does is stress Satan right the fuck out.

I was taught to pray from an early age. Kneel down beside the bed at night, make the sign of the cross and talk to God. Ask him to bless the people you love, show compassion for those who wronged you and be thankful for everything you've been given. End with the sign of the cross. Although I no longer kneel at the side of my bed or make the sign of the cross, I do still pray. I've never had an issue with prayer. It's a form of communication and communication is king. Even if you believe no one is listening, it truly does help to just have raw dialogue with yourself.

Have I ever used prayer to help me out of a tough spot? Absolutely.

Have I ever prayed for something and promised something else I knew I most likely wouldn't follow through with? Yes. Have I ever prayed then become angry when things didn't go my way? Definitely.

Have I asked for forgiveness, mercy and wisdom? Yes.

 I'm not ashamed of any of those admissions. But I'm not going to print them on a t-shirt and strut around either. I don't feel I am any different than anyone else when it comes to prayer. Evidence of this are the religious contestants on Survivor who ask God for assistance in winning a million dollars so they may do good with all that money.

Currently, for me, prayer is an open-ended conversation that takes place in my soul. There's yelling and screaming. Blame. Crying and swearing. The launching of projectiles and ever so often... peace, laughter, approval and cookies. There's chaos and harmony and somehow, I manage to cultivate enough intelligence to string together a bunch of words to make a half decent sentences from time to time.

This brings me to: The Ten Commandments. Take a quick gander at this so you can get your bearings:

https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/ten-commandments-list

In a nutshell, these are "God's standards" which he wants you to live by.

Going to confession was the worst. Especially as a typical 15-year-old girl. "I am not telling you shit" was pretty much my life's motto so to expect me to open up to an old priest and share my sins and secret thoughts so he may shame me with a mini lecture and an act of contrition, was insanity.

Every time I went to confession, I used the same three "sins":

I disobeyed my Mother and Father                                  

I took the Lord`s name in vain

I lied

I figured this to be believable for a girl my age. If you look at the commandments, I wasn't going to covet my neighbor`s wife or his ox and I certainly wasn't going to get myself another God to worship considering I already couldn't figure out the one I'd been given. And murder? I probably didn't even know what that meant. I mean, until the guidance counselor at my school pointed out to me what suicide was, I had no idea it was even possible to do that to yourself. I wasn't stupid, but rather innocent. And isn't it funny that it took a person of "authority" whose intentions were being governed by a higher power, to bring those kinds of ideas into my brain where they once didn't exist? Something to ponder.

Let's be honest, the Ten Commandments... as they stand right now in current society... a little outdated, right? Technology is rapidly changing how we communicate and behave. And it's time to modernize in order to keep up. I'm not proposing we abolish the original document. I'm not trying to offend anyone or stamp out their beliefs. I know the Ten Commandments is a sacred collection of words that many believe is straight from the mouth of God. Attempting to rip up or shit on something with that much power over so many people... is suicide. (Look Ms. Foster! I learned another way one can harm themselves other than dragging a razor over one's wrists! Your job wasn't meaningless after all!)

I'm merely proposing that someone (ME ME ME) take a stab at writing up a new set of standards which people (YOU YOU YOU) should SERIOUSLY consider following if they wish to achieve a pleasant after life. And the only person you must believe in - yourself.

The first thing I want to do is change the word "commandments" to "suggestions". It's less aggressive and more light-hearted, even though you're still expected to comply. No one wants to be told what to do, not really, and by "commanding" them in a preachy way to curb behavior... well, you're just asking for trouble. Imagine the success rate if Moses had come down from the mountain and said:

“Hey... hi everyone, look, God spoke to me and mentioned something about these ten suggestions He'd like us to seriously consider if we want to get into Heaven. He was pretty adamant that we pay attention and do our best to not ignore this list. I think He spent a lot of time coming up with this stuff... so we really do owe it to Him to try and give this all we got. Ok, thanks everyone... back to not raping women and making false idols out of gold".

I just feel that by changing the wording and therefore tone of this document - you're not alienating the more cantankerous, free-spirited or stubborn people of the world with a menu of demands you expect them to blindly obey.

The second thing I want to do is provide a brief explanation for each "suggestion". There is nothing worse than treating people as though they don't deserve further information when you'd like them to do something that wasn't their idea. Communication is comforting and reflects respect. You can't say: "Because I told you so" or "Just do it" and expect to be well received. All this is going to get you are responses such as: "You're not the boss of me" and "Go fuck yourself".

So, without further ado, I give to you:

The Ten "Suggestions" For A New World

 Please do not update your Facebook status message more than once a day:  This is a sign of vanity, a deadly sin. And it's really annoying to the point where people secretly want to kill you for repeatedly mugging their news feeds with updates in increments of 32 minutes, on the broad details of your existence. No one actually cares here, on planet Self Absorption.

Please do not kill: This is the only original "commandment" included on this new list because it has stood and always will stand the test of time. There are loads of shitty, stupid, selfish & servile individuals in the world and relieving them of the burden of breathing seems like an all-around great idea, but it's actually a terrible idea. Why? Well, for starters... it's not your place to end a human life. It's just not. Life is special. You - not so much. Plus, it causes debilitating pain for a great many people. When you take someone's life away you create a hole inside the people who love them. This hole can never be filled. It will never get smaller. These people will never heal. They might be able to carry on... eat food again one day, maybe buy a new couch, laugh at a joke - but they will never heal. They will walk around, unhealed and with a hole in their heart till their dying day. Don't make holes in other people.

Please resist from being a complete douche bag: (Traditionally the term 'douche bag' is     usually gender specific and applies to men, but for this  "suggestion" it also applies to women, because women can be douche     bags as well. This does not apply to cats. The lives of cats are based upon douche-baggery, but it's cute and therefore exempt)  Being a total jerk is in your bloodline. Eve was a jerk to Adam. Adam was a jerk to God. The snake was a jerk to Eve. God was a jerk to the dinosaurs. And the dinosaurs were jerks to everyone. So... this  "suggestion" is going to be a difficult one not to fail at from time to time. The idea here isn't to be perfect, because that isn't unachievable. But rather, genuinely compassionate and generous when you see someone who wouldn't benefit from you running your truck into their fence and then driving off like a douche bag coward. And the state of being a douche bag isn't always limited to actions befitting a little scamp, no it can also be in the way you dress (Underwear above the pants line? Come on!) Or how you tell uninterested parties about your drunken antics and the loss of your favorite pair of really expensive shoes. Or  tweeting/texting the person next to you while you're in a group setting. Now you can see why pretty much everyone will be unsuccessful at this "suggestion". We're douche bags.

If  you open a bottle of wine - please finish it: This really shouldn't require much explanation. Drinking two-day old wine is the equivalent of sucking on week old doughnuts. Even hobos understand this concept. If you save your wine, you're stealing food out of the mouth of a grape stomping child. Is that what you want? No. Drink your damn wine already.

Please flush the toilet after you poop / wipe the seat off if you urinate on it: No  list of "suggestions" would be complete without a mentioning of bathroom etiquette because so many people are unable to recognize and execute proper manners in this area. I reckon 74% of the population does not want to see your excrements. And the other 26% need to seek out some counseling. Immediately. Leaving your shit in the toilet for others to    view does not make you regal, it makes you a filthy barnyard animal. And it's not funny or clever. Neither is urine on the seat. And this applies to both men and women. Take ten seconds, grab some toilet paper and WIPE THE SEAT OFF. Your pee is not liquid gold. No one wants to bottle it to sell on eBay or Etsy.

Please do not use social media to draw attention to your drama: This     is a tough one, I know. We all suffer from drama and when we feel severely slighted by the Universe, a person or even a business... we just want to share our pain in hopes of others being able to relate to us and provide some words of comfort. And what better way to reach your 472 "friends" than screaming out on Twitter or rapidly posting about your discomfort on Facebook. But the problem is... you're not actually connecting to anyone. Not really. You can't see their expressions. You can't hear the tone in their voice. And you definitely cannot count on their sincerity if they don't contact you privately and not in an open forum for all to witness. And, it's awkward. Once people see your drama, they can't un-see it. Even if you delete it, you don't get to delete it from their minds. And as a sub-section to this "suggestion" - also try to avoid saying stuff on social media that you wouldn't say to a person's face. This is just a fancier version of talking behind someone's back while doing it in front of their face without them actually realizing that it's being done.

Please do not text and drive: If you own a car you probably spend a     decent amount of time in that car, driving. Probably so much time that it     feels automatic, like blinking.  And because it's automatic you will rarely think about what you're actually doing - operating a 4000-pound killing machine. What is more important than taking your eyes off the road to check in on your game of choice? Or answering that text about where     you're going on your vacation? Your life. The lives of others. (please see "suggestion" number two) Chances are you're already deeply distracted by your real life, there is no reason to add to that list fumbling around with a cellphone so you can tell someone what you thought about last night's episode of Spring Baking Championship (is that just me?).

Please leave your ego at the door: People love confidence; they hate     arrogance. Arrogance is phony. Intimidation and strutting around like an erect penis OR vagina won’t hide the truth - that you’re afraid and maybe a little underwhelming in your own mind.  There is nothing wrong with     having flaws... accepting those flaws... flaunting those flaws. It builds     character. But if you must insist on being an arrogant tool, then you must  also accept that you're not only unhealthy to yourself, you're toxic to     others.

Please do not give others false hope: If someone has posted an ad on     Kijiji or Craigslist - don't express interest and give them a date and time of when you're going to show up to purchase the item if you have no intention of making an appearance. Forget about it being rude and full of    atrocious manners; it's downright cruel to let someone believe they've     just sold their dining room table when in fact - they haven't. (Yes, I’ve been scarred).

Please remember, you're not always right: Unless you're me. And even then, you’d only be operating at a success rate of about 32%.... so, just be yourself.

[septic-heart-and-mind]

“A Stranger” | “Virus” (New Antisepticeye Fic) Pt. 2

Yes, part 2 is here already! I am really getting into writing this, haven’t had any ideas for ages and now suddenly I have a lot xD hope you enjoy :)

@watermelonsinmyattic​ @steffid101​ @themultiplefandomlover​ @geekygirl0816​ @meisje450​ @kodimint​ @theoddowldoodle​ @odia13​

I had just been to see Mark, and I was now heading back home. Mark was one of my best friends, who was visiting Brighton where I lived. He, and his girlfriend Amy, wanted to spend some time here because we didn’t get to see each other or hang out all that often. They decided to stay for a while with another couple of my friends, Felix and his girlfriend Marzia. Mark and Amy were toying with the idea of moving here like I did, so they wanted to get a feel for it by staying for a considerable time. I had just had a great time, catching up with him and Amy and recording some collaborations. Before I knew it, it got much later than planned and that was when I decided it was time I went back home. I had a smile on my face when I left the house, feeling lucky to have such great friends. It always feels good to know that you have people who care about you, people that you can have fun and relax with. Mark had talked with me about some stuff that I had on my mind, too, so I felt better in that sense as well. I strode with a little spring in my step as I headed back to my girlfriend, excited to see her and tell her about my day, when I was suddenly grabbed and dragged into a nearby alleyway with my mouth covered so I couldn’t call for help - not that there was anyone around anyway. They hauled me right to the back of the alleyway, where anyone who did end up passing wouldn’t see us, and I was pinned to the wall by the mysterious figure. The alleyway was dark and their face was shielded by a black hood, so I had no idea who it was that had their grip on me. Still keeping their vice tightly on me, they slowly drew back their hood and revealed a familiar, wicked face with evil eyes that I knew all too well. It was Anti. Well, his name was James, but my family and I always called him Anti because he was the complete opposite of me, despite being my twin brother. That was why I encouraged the idea when my YouTube community came up with the Anti name for my imaginary dark ego, because it made perfect sense - and because it meant that I could associate it with something else, rather than just my twisted brother who didn’t seem to have an ounce of good in him.

“Well, well, well,” he smirked, “Haven’t you grown, Seán?”

“I thought I’d never-“

“See me again?” he cut me off, before darkly laughing. “I’m your brother, like it or not.”

“Not to me,” I stammered fearfully.

“Aw, that’s not nice,” he teased me. “And they say I’m the evil one.”

“I’m nothing like you,” I trembled. “Now leave me alone…”

“We’ve only just reunited, Jackaboy,” he taunted, “You’re not leaving just yet.” I looked behind him, ahead of me, but I saw no-one in the streets to help me. I desperately tried to think of way to free myself, afraid that Anti would actually kill me. He was capable of it, easily. I wouldn’t put anything past him at all. I kicked him in the leg and he loosened, pained, and I began to make a dash for it. But he grabbed me again after a few steps, tighter than before, and pinned me hard against the wall whilst laughing at me.”Thought you could run away, did ya?” he mocked me.

“Please let me go,” I begged tearfully in a quivering voice.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened. “I got abandoned, do you remember? I got left all alone,” he bitterly continued, a little too close to my face. “Then you got older… You could’ve found me, couldn’t you? You could’ve tracked me down like I did to you tonight. But you never did.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered.

“Too late,” he spoke darkly. “I want you to feel how I felt. I want you to end up alone, left to go insane like I did.”

“N-No, please!” I cried out, before he started to relentlessly beat me. He left me weak on the ground. He towered over me for a moment, before crouching down beside me. Matching his pale, vampirish complexion, he then bit me hard. It stung terribly, and he laughed evilly at my pain.

“Now it’s your turn to be abandoned,” he stated coldly. It was then, when I was hurt, that he left me alone. I had to pick myself up from the ground and stumble home, battered and bruised and wondering why he had finished off his attack on me the way he did. It seemed so unbelievably strange, as did what he said to me about losing my mind, and I had no idea what it meant…

When I arrived home, Signe was awake and out of bed even though she wouldn’t normally be at that time; she had obviously been fretting about my whereabouts and how I was, as I hadn’t told her that I would see Anti again because I wasn’t expecting to. I didn’t know he would find me, so our meeting wasn’t exactly planned. I heard her jump up from the sofa the second I entered the house, and she hurried into the hall as I shut the front door behind me.

“Oh my goodness, what happened to you?” she gasped upon seeing me.

“Nothin’, I’m fine,” I reassured her with a smile, despite being shaken up.

“You are not fine, skat,” she refuted me with affection, before hugging me. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home, I was thinking all sorts,” she explained with relief.

“Like I said, I’m fine, darlin’,” I replied softly as I held her, before kissing her head.

“Is that why you’re covered in bruises?” she questioned as we broke away, looking straight into my eyes. Her gaze then suggested that she was trying to get eye contact back from me; I was avoiding it because I knew I couldn’t lie to her if I looked at her. I would have to say I wasn’t alright, and I didn’t want to worry her any more. “Babe, look at me,” she requested gently. I slowly lifted my eyes to meet with hers, and I observed the concern as she saw my bruises in front of her. “You’re not fine, are you?” she said to try and get the truth from me, because she wanted to take care of me properly and couldn’t do that without knowing the full story.

“No,” I stammered, on the brink of tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed with sympathy. “Come on, let’s get you sat down.” She gently led me to the living room and sat me down carefully. She then fetched me a glass of water and handed it to me, before placing herself down beside me and holding my empty hand. “What happened, my darling?” she asked, my hand gently caressed by her thumb. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Yeah,” I answered in barely more than a whisper.

“Who did this to  you?” she pondered, sounding heartbroken at the idea of someone harming me. “Did you see who it was? Was it a stranger?” she added to prompt me and aid my answering.

“No… I-I knew them,” I stuttered shakily. “W-Well… Kind of…”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” she enquired, a little confused.

“It’s… been years…” I explained, almost crying again as I thought about him.

“Your brother?” Signe checked, taken aback.

“I never thought I’d have to face him again,” I stated, unable to hold back my tears anymore.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here,” she responded caringly, taking me into her arms. I broke down, sobbing into her and holding on to her tightly. “Shhh, it’s alright now, it’s alright,” she comforted me, stroking my head slowly and slightly rocking me. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”

“I-I thought - I thought he’d kill me,” I sobbed.

“But he didn’t, my darling, he didn’t,” Signe replied soothingly. “Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“W-What - What if he - hurts me again?” I gasped.

“Shhh, he won’t, baby, he won’t,” she answered softly, “He’ll have gone far away now to avoid getting into trouble for doing this to you.” I didn’t feel entirely reassured, terrified that he would come back to get me, and I just couldn’t stop crying and shaking in her arms. She continued to shush me and comfort me, not giving up on trying to make me feel better. She kept going, and eventually I could feel myself slowly calming down. Partly because I was tiring out from crying, but also because she was beginning to make me feel safe again. Maybe she was right, maybe he wouldn’t be back around here again in order to protect himself. That was what he did, he always looked out for himself because he was all he cared about. He was self-centred and narcissistic as well as cruel; he really was everything I wasn’t. The only thing we had in common was our looks. Even then, we had our differences. He was paler, and he always wore darker clothes. He even dyed his hair to make it a darker shade of brown than mine; it was like he didn’t want to look like me, which was fine with me because I didn’t want to match his appearance, either. We weren’t identical, but we looked similar enough that it disturbed me sometimes.When I acted as the Anti that my YouTube community knew, I pretended that I was my brother. It shook me up afterwards sometimes, as it brought back painful memories from my childhood with him. It took my mind to places that I wanted to forget. Seeing him again that day had the same effect and, as I sat with Signe’s arms around me, I began to remember a day from the past. I was crying because Anti had just pushed me the floor - hard - and was just standing over me like he was proud of himself. He didn’t look remotely sorry, or show any intention of helping me up. Anti simply laughed at my suffering as he usually did. He called me nasty names like he did every day. Stupid. Pathetic. Crybaby. I begged him not to be so mean to me, but he just laughed and teased me some more. I picked myself up and ran inside the house to find Malcolm, my other brother, and I told him what Anti did to me. He hugged me as I cried on him, as I’d done many times before. That one flashback triggered another terrible memory. I was only little, but I could still see it. Anti would take my toys from me and smile when I cried. He would hit me with them or throw them at me, again enjoying it when I got upset. He even tried to drown me in the bath; I couldn’t remember it, but I saw what I imagined from what I’d been told. Anti loved every second of it as he pushed my tiny head under the water. He relished in watching me struggle and splutter, only stopping when he was pulled off me and I was taken to hospital to be checked over. Anti was only little too, being the same age as me, yet he was showing signs of being evil already. At the time it was put down to just not knowing what he was doing, but it became clear later than he did because his dark streak never stopped. He was never kind, and he only ever thought of himself. He cared about no-one else, and I didn’t think he knew what love was at all. Because of that, and only because of that, I felt sorry for him. Love is one of life’s greatest things, and it was a stranger to him.

[socasuallylaci]

My Secret Session Experience

On May 23, 2015 during the 1989 era Taylor Swift followed me on tumblr. She's been following me since then, and at the start of the reputation era she started noticing me and liking posts I was sharing (19 to be exact). She started joining fan's livestreams on Instagram which encouraged me to create a fan account (so as to not annoy all my non-swiftie friends) and start livestreaming on there in hopes that Taylor would see and join. On October 12, she joined my livestream and chatted with me for 20 minutes.

About 30 minutes later I got a message from Taylor Nation on tumblr, saying they noticed I was a great fan and would like some info from me. I knew this meant that SOMETHING was gonna happen, but I didn't know what. When I saw the next day that there was a secret session in London I cried, knowing that it was a huge possibility I was going to one. 2 days later on the 14th I got a phone call from TN saying there was a super secret special event happening on the 19th in Rhode Island and I was invited. I did my best to keep my cool while talking to them and the moment I hung up I BURST INTO TEARS! I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. They took all my info and another 2 days later they sent me the email with the location and time.

So we drove up to Rhode Island on the 19th and met at the location we were given. After being checked in, signing a confidentiality agreement and having our phones and bags taken (we literally could not bring anything because it was confidential) we eventually got onto vans that drove us to Taylor's house. We went in and got to hang out in the kitchen/balcony/sitting area with her mom, dad and brother (who all were so nice and pure) and eat snacks (including rep cookies and m&ms this girl is so extra I love her). I first talked to Scott who was so funny and kind, he kept yelling out to make sure everyone got picks! I also asked him to confirm that the chicken nuggets were in fact Chikfila 😂 he told us beautiful stories about Taylor, he was radiating with pride for her. Then eventually Andrea made her way through hugging and talking to everyone. I hugged her and told her she’s so beautiful and she looked at me in the eye and said “YOURE so beautiful” and I was like omg. Then I was wondering the halls looking at the pics on the wall and as I was looking at a picture I turned around AND AUSTIN WAS RIGHT BEHIND ME and I was so thrown off I was like OH UHM HI and he laughed and held out his hand and was like “hi I’m Austin nice to meet you!” And I was like omg hi I’m Laci nice to meet you too! And then I asked him for a hug and he was like oh course! And gave me this big hug.

After some time they let us go into the living room where we all sat on pillows and blankets on the floor and anxiously waited for Taylor to come in. We all started singing Fearless (IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT) and as we were singing Taylor walks into the room and we all start screaming and crying. She sits down in a chair in front of us smiling so big at all of us, and then the session began.

Unfortunately I can't share details about the session, but I will say that this is hands down her best album. It is a total 360 from anything she's ever done, but that's because you can tell that it's the real Taylor finally coming out of her "nice girl" shell. She's no longer letting anyone speak for her, she's reclaiming herself and no longer quietly standing back while people try to tear her down. This album is RADIATING happiness and confience and she is SO PROUD of it and so so happy. This album will blow you away.

Also, she was so INSANELY ADORABLE while lip syncing the songs to us. You could see how proud she was of every single lyric. She kept saying “this is one of my favorites” and I kept calling her out about how she said she couldn’t pick a favorite track on my livestream. She was like “I genuinely don’t have one favorite!” And I was like “I didn’t know if you just were lying cause you didn’t wanna give it away until the album came out!” (Which I didn’t mean to say she was lying I meant to say that she was just saying that because she didn’t wanna reveal it yet omg I DIDNT MEAN TO CALL HER A LIAR LOL) and she looked at me with the CUTEST look and was like “I would never lie to you, you know that!!” And I was like IM SO SORRY IM GONNA GO DIE NOW LOL. She also referenced SO MANY tumblr memes I was dying.

Anyway after listening to the album (I kept making comments about the songs and stuff and she kept replying to me omg), Taylor left to refresh herself while we got moved to a sunroom to hang out with each other and look at the magazines from Target available to be pre-ordered. YALL ARE GONNA WANNA GET THESE LET ME TELL YOU! All of a sudden Taylor popped back into the room and told us that since we were such a great bunch she had a suprise for us, WHICH SADLY I CANNOT SHARE. (Yes, this surprise got leaked on tumblr but I was told not to share it so I'm not gonna continue to spread it. If you really wanna know you can do your research.) She made eye contact with me SO MUCH during this surprise I couldn't stop crying.

Then finally she stepped back into the other room for the meet and greets. She took her time with everyone so we just hung out in the sun room while we waited until we were ready. My mom and I stayed back to be closer to the end hoping we'd have more time with her (which backfired sadly because they wanted everyone out by midnight).

When it was our turn I walked in and she smiled so big at me and opened her arms to hug me and was like "Hi how are you!" and I was just like "omg I'm great how are you!" and she thanked me for coming and I thanked her for inviting me and then she hugged my mom and thanked her for bringing me. She then asked me what we wanted to do for our picture and I told her my mom wanted to hold a Grammy, so she took her two Grammy's off her shelf and handed them to us to hold for the picture. As she handed them to us she told me she loved the matching color scheme my mom and I had going on and I laughed and said we are always twinning. So we took the picture and she took the Grammy's back and I started telling her about how much her music got me through the worst breakup and she was like "right your All Too Well breakup" (referring to the breakup I told her about on my livestream) and told me that I was part of the reason she gave us that surprise (OH MY GOD). I told her about how much I had been hurt by this guy and the whole time I was talking about it she was like "oh my god I hate him I depsise him I want to kill him" which had me laughing. She also told me she was feeling so protective over me and that we had to take a super cute picture to make him mad (did I mention I love her?). So she saw that we were both wearing matching rose gold snake rings and said maybe we could hold them up to show them off, but I said I already had a pose idea which would kind of show off the rings (yep I literally rejected a pose idea from Taylor Swift omg). So I had her hug me around my shoulders from behind and I held onto her arms in front of me and she was like "omg that's super adorable". Then I thanked her again and hugged her and stepped aside so my mom could get a picture with her. After that we were saying bye and then I ran back to her and was like ONE MORE HUG and she squeezed me so tight it was magical. Then we got our merch bags and got back in the van to be taken back to our cars.

I was a little upset because she didn’t say my name when I came in and everyone was saying how they were complimented by her or that she told them she stalked them a lot and she didn’t really say any of that to me. But after thinking about it I realized that I had my hair and makeup different from how I normally look online and I’m pretty sure she didn’t recognize me right away and I totally threw her off lol. And honestly I just kept rambling about my stupid ex (my brain literally was not working cause I was in a state of disbelief) so I didn’t really give her an opportunity to talk about my tumblr or anything lol. But I do have her telling me that I was part of the reason she gave us that special surprise, and that means everything to me. As I said we were also a little rushed because it was getting close to midnight which kind of sucked and made me even more nervous lol. It still was the best night of my life and I can’t thank Taylor enough for actually choosing me and wanting to meet me. She is such a truly kind and beautiful soul and I will never forget this gift she’s given me. 💕

@taylorswift @taylornation

[itstimeforspring]

i can see the clouds are moving faster now (4 of ?)

title from ‘Hold On’ by TobyMac. this is chapter 3 of my CSSS gift for @thegladelf. all of the apologies for how long it took for this to happen, but it is here at last. blame college. all the thanks to @love-with-you-i-have-everything and @literatiruinedme for the editing and also to @kmomof4 for the absolutely wonderful encouragement yesterday with this thing <3

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 // ff.net // ao3

Judging by her silence, Ruby was trying to decide whether to rip the two of them apart or congratulate them. More bashful than she’d ever seen him, Killian was shifting in his seat in the bar. Ruby had grabbed both of their hands and pulled them into the weirdly empty bar next door once she’d gotten over the sputtering outside of her grandmother’s restaurant. Emma finally sighed.

“What do you want to know, Ruby?” Killian darted a glance towards her, an eyebrow raised, and she patted his knee. Of course not that part, you idiot. Regina would murder her in a dark alley if she told a civilian everything. He nodded, looking remotely ashamed at having believed his wife capable of telling everything. She was better at secrets than he was, anyway, although apparently neither of them were that good when they had their guard down. “We’ll tell you anything.” There was a brief shot of guilt for that, because the idea of telling her everything—impossible. Lovely, but impossible until Regina decided they needed to stay on sick/vacation leave forever when Killian was injured more than he was right now.

Emma shuddered and Killian took her hand, squeezing gently. Was that always going to be her reaction when she imagined the love of her life dying in front of her? Probably. Seeing it once, seeing that explosion a few hundred yards away and knowing that Killian was there, was quite enough. She felt a slight flash of annoyance for her own feelings all of a sudden—she’d been far more calloused and CIA-recommended closed-off before she fell in love with Killian Jones. It had been so much easier then, when she didn’t have someone to come home to every night.

Ruby took a deep breath, her eyes glowing with the light of curiosity and slight anger combined. “How long have you been married? And how long did you date before that?”

“We’ve been married for five years,” Emma said. Ruby’s mouth fell open. Wow, that sounded really bad. She was a horrible daughter and probably a horrible wife, too, for never telling anyone about this. Eh, they’d get over it eventually.

Killian, accepting that someone had found out and that finally he’d get to be married again for a while, smirked. “And we dated for a year before we got engaged. Then it was another…” He thought about it for a moment and Emma waited with a smirk of her own. “Two months before we got married.” Ah, he’d gone with the unrecorded Vegas marriage they’d done on a whim before the official courtroom affair. Classic. The official thing had only been another month after Vegas, but still, there was a difference.

Ruby stared. “Five years? How in the world did you keep this from your parents? I could have believed a few months, a year at most, but this is insane.”

Emma winced and Killian leaned forward. “That’s an amusing story, Ruby. Once upon a time, Emma forgot to mention to her lovely parents, who are actually truly charming, that I existed and we were dating. Then, she helpfully forgot to mention that we were engaged. Then, while I was on a work trip to Europe and she came back to Storybrooke for a visit, she forgot to tell her loved ones that we were married. By the by, they found out I existed when I answered the phone at home. Good surprise, aye?”

Emma punched him in the shoulder lightly, falling back against the bench in the bar with a groan. “What was I going to do? ‘Hey, Mom, Dad, how have you been? In New York at work I met this guy and we fell in love and got married and it’s been two years since I legally changed my name to Emma Swan Jones for legal ease, just to add a little more confusion to this family’s naming problem. Oh, and no, I didn’t bring him to meet you or even get your approval to marry him in the first place, and guess what! He’s in Europe on a work trip!”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have gone over really well,” Ruby reflected.

“Why not?” Killian asked indignantly.

Ruby leaned forward in her seat. Emma noticed that she seemed to be handling the whole bombshell rather well. Was there yet hope for her parents? She knew Ruby’s next words would shatter that hope. Perhaps Ruby was just used to improbable things. “There’s a thing about Storybrooke, Mr. Swan. It’s populated primarily by those who believe in fairy tales and happily ever after. It’s one thing to disappear off somewhere and come back with a supposed true love husband. She would have been adored. It’s another to come back and announce you have one but… he’s in Europe. Almost unreachable. Emma would have been…”

“Hounded,” Emma inserted. “They would all have demanded to know where you were and many would have doubted that you existed. I’m sure my mom would have thought you were a clever story to prevent her from setting me up with anyone. And then she would have tried to set me up with someone. Probably Walsh.” Ruby cringed at the name. Ooh. Apparently he was still around, or else the stories of him and Dorothy were still being told.

Killian threw his arms up in the air and let his left arm fall around Emma’s shoulders, his fingers drumming against her arm as he thought about the complexities of Storybrooke’s belief in happily-ever-after. “That wouldn’t have done at all,” Killian sighed.

“Yeah, probably not,” she said with a grin. “I rather wanted to avoid it all. And also, well, at that point it was just awkward.” Killian made an exaggerated grimace that said exactly what he thought of that.

Ruby leaned back in her chair, a glint in her eye telling Emma that she was up to exactly no good. “How and when are you going to tell your parents?”

“We were hoping we wouldn’t have to,” Emma admitted. “Killian’s going to do the full Swan, will you marry me at some point, I’ll accept with great joy, et cetera, then Mary Margaret can do as she pleases. It should be amusing.”

Ruby laughed. Killian raised an eyebrow. What kind of laughter was this, Emma had to wonder. Genuine this is hilarious or I can’t wait to see you crash and burn? “I can’t wait to watch this go down,” Ruby finally said. Bit of both, then.

“Promise you won’t tell them?” Emma asked. That would be hilarious, of course, having Ruby tell her parents instead of either of them, but probably would go over far worse than anything else.

Ruby scoffed. “Of course I won’t tell them. This is too interesting. Promise I can be there on the day you do tell them, though. I want to see David’s reaction.”

Killian let his head fall to the table, his forehead clunking a bit too hard. Emma and Ruby glanced at each other, then down at him. “He was just starting to like me,” Killian whined.

Emma laughed at his and her father’s bromance and his fear of losing such an asset. It was honestly adorable. And it was so much more than she could have ever hoped for, Killian meeting her dad. She had been expecting guns blazing and words thrown and Henry staring at the whole thing like a particularly interesting ping pong tournament. Instead, she’d gotten a relatively civil conversation and two grown men arguing over Henry’s old Mario Kart game like children. It was a pleasant surprise.

Ruby was less sympathetic as she motioned for a waiter. They would be buying her lunch, apparently. “Get it together, Mr. Swan.”

--

“So, Ruby knows,” Killian said that night as they got ready for bed. They’d spent the rest of the day with Henry, wandering through the Storybrooke forest and then the world of Minecraft. Emma nodded slowly as she straightened her long t-shirt. “What do you think about it?”

“I’m fine with it, better than I expected, anyway,” she said, fluffing her pillow and then face planting on the bed. This bed was rather comfortable, but the pillows just weren’t up to par with their apartment. Emma vaguely wondered how well Ariel was taking care of the place and if they’d remembered to unplug everything before they left. Would be embarrassing if her curling iron had burned down the place. She rolled over to face Killian. “I expected to be a little more scared about it. And I’m quite ashamed of us, that we couldn’t keep the secret longer. Regina would be furious if she knew. Why?”

Killian shrugged self-deprecatingly. “I know the whole plan was my idea, and it’s still remarkably amusing, but—it was just nice, being able to talk normally to someone. Without, you know, lying about everything. We do that for a living. A break from that was good.”

It wasn’t much of a stretch. Those who didn’t know about the marriage didn’t know about the job. Those who knew about the marriage and not the job were few and far between, numbering about fifteen between Ruby in Storybrooke and Ariel across the hall and the best Starbucks barista in New York. Only the ones they were sent to take out knew about the job and not the relationship. Maybe five people knew about both.

And those were the dangerous ones.

--

They got up the next morning with few expectations for the day: perhaps a trip to the Christmas tree lot and a sojourn to the roof to hang the icicle lights from the gutter were all of the activities Mary Margaret had told them the night before. Twenty minutes’ worth of mundane activities passed—wake up, morning kiss, shower, brush teeth, greet parents and brother, eat breakfast, sit on couch with an exhausted sigh—before they noticed that the world had transformed into a glowing white wonderland.

Killian twisted around to stare out at the falling snow in awe, resting his chin on the back of the couch, and Emma, across the room with newly-acquired hot chocolate in hand, watched him gaze at the snowflakes drift to the ground. He always looked so much younger in the morning, before he had time to settle back into the normal stresses of the day. She jumped when an arm fell around her shoulders, interrupting her musings about the attractiveness of her husband.

“Besotted, are we?” Mary Margaret asked, her sweet voice transformed into that gooey tone she’d had when the Nolans had first adopted Emma, who was only about fifteen years younger than them. David had immediately settled into conspiratorial Dad who could be confided in about everything except English class, and neither of them had disputed it. Mary Margaret had floated around between best friend and Mom for the first few months until figuring out her new role, and Emma had only been too grateful when she decided on being Mom. This was the best friend “let’s talk about boys” voice that she’d never completely dropped.

“Mom…” she muttered in accordance with the unfortunate tradition. She leaned her head on Mary Margaret’s, just the same height. She had to remind herself suddenly why she hadn’t been home in so long—oh, right—fear of the past plus unmentioned husband plus secret job. Reasons good enough? Probably not.

Mary Margaret grinned and pulled Emma into her and David’s bedroom, closing the door between themselves and Killian. “Come on, tell me about everything. Your father said some things that Killian told him, but I want to hear it from you!” She sat down on the bed and sat cross-legged, elbows on knees, chin in hands. She looked the very picture of an eager high schooler, ready for the latest gossip.

Ah. Another reason she hadn’t been home in a while. This very picture.

Emma sat down on the bed slowly, not quite as enthusiastic about the discussion as her mother. “What do you want to know?”

“Your point of view on your relationship! You haven’t brought anyone home in so long. I was getting concerned, Emma. It’s not my business, really, but it is my job. And you seem happy now, and I want to hear about how.” Somewhere in her little speech Mary Margaret’s eyes filled prettily with tears. Emma sighed inwardly; it wasn’t like she didn’t like talking about how she and Killian met—she just didn’t have much practice telling the story in a government-approved way.

“We met at work a few years ago—”

“Aww, coworker romance!”

Emma laughed. She heard a noise in the living room—Killian. Laughing at her mother with her. Adorable, and not subtle. “Not at first. He was incredibly annoying, talked too much, and was infuriatingly attractive.”

“At least one of those hasn’t changed,” Mary Margaret said, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, he does still talk a lot,” Emma mused. “Haven’t managed to break him of that. Goodness knows I’ve tried.”

Mary Margaret gaped for a moment.

Emma continued without acknowledging the fact that her husband was in fact a fine wine of a man and had only gotten more attractive over the past six years. “Then he started to get a little less annoying, asked me out, I refused, a few months passed, he got even less annoying and a great deal sweeter, asked me out again, and I said yes.”

Mary Margaret, having gotten over her dramatic surprise, gasped another “aww” in proper character. Hearts poured out of her eyes for a moment as she probably tried to imagine the arrogantly flirtatious and baby-faced Killian Jones Emma had met in Russia. Emma giggled to herself, remembering that he hadn’t even had a beard when they met. Their second meeting was rather jarring, since she had, over the years, calculated his attractiveness to increase exponentially with the facial hair.

Also, he had taken the hint remarkably quickly at their first meeting—arrogant jerks were, in fact, considered jerks by most women. Their second meeting featured a flirtatious, attractive, and weirdly shy man only a few degrees removed from the real Killian Jones.

“So how are you two doing?” Mary Margaret asked, her voice lowering slightly, possibly aware that Killian could hear them. “Based on the phone call, I’m assuming you two are living together? How is that?”

Emma flushed slightly but nodded. The woman was incredible, how she could switch from pure innocence to complete bluntness in a second. “We have an apartment in New York, yeah. We’ve had that for a while.” Around two years, when they moved across the city. That was, of course, nowhere near when they moved in together, but it wasn’t a complete lie.

Mary Margaret smiled. “I’ll have to come visit sometime, pretend that it’s just a trip for Henry, school or something like that. When actually—”

“—you’ll probably end up redecorating my apartment,” Emma said drily. It’s exactly what happened when Belle got her apartment. Killian would welcome it, based on the homey comment when they got to Storybrooke.

Mary Margaret nodded, not at all repentant about the whole thing. Then her eyes went completely serious, and Emma froze when she realized that she knew the exact question coming next. “Where do you think the relationship is going, Emma?”

It was the question that had eventually put an end to every former relationships. It was the question that always made Emma run far, far away from whatever pain was about to happen. It was the question she had asked herself for the three days between Killian asking her out and her acceptance. It was the question she had asked herself when Killian started mentioning marriage a mere six months into their relationship.

It was the question that, two days ago, she would have brought back old Emma to answer. Storybrooke didn’t know new Emma, let alone Emma Swan Jones, and it would have worked. Her mom would have been sad, but not overly surprised. But today—well, someone already knew. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, apparently, if people found out. She wasn’t going to become old Emma again. Today, she’d let her mother in on a little of their secret.

“It’s going well, Mom. It really is.” Soft smile at the mother’s newfound tears. Just to drive the point home and erase any lingering doubts in her mind: “I love him; I’m fairly sure he loves me. We don’t have everything planned right now, but it’s enough.”

One tear trickled down Mary Margaret’s face. Emma reached forward and hugged her, fully aware that she’d just given her mom some hope for her Emma’s Happy Ending Project for the first time. Something good was really coming out of the whole trip.

--

“What happened after that, before your father came in requesting lunch? I could tell your mother was crying but nothing else. Tears of joy, I should hope. And then you came out and dragged me out into this whitened world of cold crystals.”

“So much alliteration. You should be a poet,” Emma muttered, pushing herself further into Killian’s side. It was cold. She tucked her arm through his, his stiffened hand securely inside his jacket pocket. “She clearly wanted to talk to Dad about the whole thing, compare notes with his talk with you, and probably pull out all of the binders she’s had lying around for my future. I hope Dad realizes we’re not having lunch for a while.”

Killian laughed. His smile could have melted the snow around them. “Wedding binders? Or does she have more? Mary Margaret Nolan, planning out her daughter’s life, one binder at a time.”

“All of them. Wedding, honeymoon, first house, children’s names, types of pets, the works,” Emma said with a combination of fondness, disgust, and resignation as Killian laughed again. At least she’d been consulted on some of them. Interestingly, one of those was not her own children’s names. She wondered what Killian would think about the name of their firstborn son being known as Leopold. Ruth wasn’t bad for a daughter, but she really hoped that he’d think Leopold just as ridiculous as she did. Because it was ridiculous, even just as Leo.

Killian stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk. Emma glanced up at him curiously, only to find his shyest smile. “I heard what you said about our courtship and life together.”

Emma turned to face him properly. “I couldn’t think of what to say, really, that was just impulse to keep her happy—”

He leaned down and kissed her, her face suddenly warming in the cold air with the contact. She could feel his smile in the kiss and that knowledge made her grin almost uncontrollably. She pulled her hands out of her pockets to tug him closer even as his hands rested against her ribs. She lost track of time, there in the street, until Killian pulled away. His eyes met hers, and she was, as always, awed by the depths of love and compassion and grace and hope and adoration she saw within. “I do love you, Emma Swan.”

“I love you too, Killian Jones,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips again before pulling away just enough to continue walking down the street.

“I believe I’ll ask your father for your hand soon,” Killian said contemplatively. Emma looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. Earlier than she would have expected. “If that would be all right with you, of course,” he amended. “I’m not accustomed to asking the father before marrying the love of my life, Emma. I’ve only done it once, forgive me. But I’m quite impatient with the whole not-being-married-to-you thing. It’s gotten old in these past few days. Rather faster than I had expected, truth be told.”

“Oh, you know I would have said yes anyway. Maybe wait a little, though, until they’re more used to the fact that Emma Swan is in love,” she said as he glared at her for a second before letting it soften into a sappy grin at the whole thought. He was a sappy creature, she thought as she pulled him down for a short kiss. Such joy at the prospect of another wedding.

Killian thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “Who’s to say I’ll wait that long, really? I may ask tomorrow. This time, I’ll let it be a surprise. After all, I’m not even the slightest bit apprehensive as to your answer to my suit,” he said, emphasizing the t.

Emma almost protested—the first proposal had been a surprise—no, it really hadn’t. Not a lot of things, excepting her ring burning a hole in his jacket pocket, made Killian Jones that nervous, nervous enough to trip over his words for a solid week, to almost cause a massive car accident, and to completely flunk his shooting exam. He had been adorably terrified, a fear that was quickly alleviated when she nearly screeched her yes. Then he had promptly returned to his old self and retaken his shooting evaluation. “No, probably shouldn’t be concerned about my answer,” she said glibly.

It was going to be a resounding YES like the first time, except maybe a little louder. Emma found herself getting a bit giddy at the thought, almost as much as Killian was, judging by the strength he was holding her hand and the little grin that seemed to not want to leave his face.

“I’ll inform Regina that we’ll be staying longer in Storybrooke than expected,” Emma said. “I’ll tell her that your hand’s gone gangrenous.” Killian grimaced, flexing his hand stiffly, and Emma winced at her own words. She squeezed his arm in apology. “Or maybe I’ll just get the flu. Perhaps a rare strain of chicken pox. And I’ll tell my parents that we’ll be using up their hospitality a little longer. They’ll wish us long gone by the time we actually leave. Maybe we should move into Granny’s after Christmas.”

Killian nodded emphatically. It’s only so long that someone can live with their in-laws without a little tension, no matter how well everyone’s getting along. “What shall we tell them as an excuse for staying in Storybrooke?” he asked. “I’m sure that normal jobs wouldn’t tell their employees to stay on vacation for a far longer time than expected. Oh, I know, we could get laid off. Handy economy for that, aye?”

Emma grimaced. Her parents would be too concerned if that were to happen to both of them at once. Unbearably concerned. She couldn’t do that to them, not after everything that had happened recently, and Killian wouldn’t risk his slowly-growing relationship with them.

“We’ll figure it out, love,” Killian said, turning to face her again and lifting her chin up to look her in the eyes. The smile in his eyes—ugh, she loved him.

--

Mary Margaret soon called about the grilled cheese she and Henry were working on. They were a brisk five minutes away from the apartment and lunch, walking down Main Street among the piling snow, when Killian suddenly froze for a single second. Emma knew that face. He’d heard something, and his senses were practically flawless. They were being followed, too close to home.

They continued walking as normal, Emma clasping Killian’s arm just as gently and Killian still talking about how he wanted them to get a cat. Without hearing anything, Emma unzipped her jacket just enough that it’d be easy to get the gun she had sewn into a pocket. She leaned her head against Killian’s shoulder to try to mask the movement.

“If it’s spotted, it would be Andy or April, obviously.” Emma nodded. The connection between Parks and Rec and a spotted cat wasn’t obvious, exactly, but she wasn’t going to argue about that one. Both were good names. “If it’s grey, we should name it Kelly,” Killian said contemplatively. There it was, a rustle in the alleyway. Almost certainly human.

“Why Kelly?” she asked. Strange name, but she wasn’t going to argue about it. Didn’t really have time, either. The rustling was gone. Killian looked down at her, also glancing toward the alley where they’d last heard the noise.

He shrugged, shaking his head slightly. “It’s a good name, Swan. Don’t diss the name.” He didn’t see anyone.

She raised her hands, simultaneously pulling her arm from Killian’s light grip. “Not dissing the name, Killian. Just curious as to where you got it from.” They passed in front of Mr. Gold’s shop and Emma braced herself for the alley beside it.

The person stood in the center of the path, clearly about to hide but just slightly too slow to melt into the shadows. They were about Emma’s size but a few inches shorter, and she—it was a she, Emma decided based on the length of hair and overall build—wore a black hoodie and black sweatpants. Her face was hidden by the shadows and

“What do you want?” Killian asked, his voice rough and commanding.

The girl shook her head. She took her right hand out of her jacket pocket and reached for her back pocket. Killian’s hand flashed into his jeans and his gun flashed in the fading afternoon sun within another second. The girl took a step back, a short knife appearing in her hand with almost as much grace.

“Why have you been following us?” Emma asked, prepared to grab the gun if Killian so much as twitched a confirmation. The girl shook her head, still not speaking. As her head moved, the hood of her hoodie fell. Emma saw her face and gasped at the recognition. Killian straightened, his grip on the gun tightening. The girl—woman, Emma knew—took another step back, her eyes widening.

Then she turned and ran. Killian took one step but stopped before he could continue the chase. Emma couldn’t summon the willpower to run after her. How could she—?

With another flash, Killian replaced his gun in the back of his jeans. “Do you know her, Swan?” he asked gruffly, shaking his head slightly.

“That’s Ashley,” Emma said, still shell-shocked. “I went to school with her. I babysat her daughter junior year while she was in morning classes. Alexandra was the sweetest baby.”

Killian nodded, rubbing his scarred left hand with his right hand. Suddenly, the snowy air wasn’t cold anymore. “I remember her, as well,” he said. Emma turned her head to look into his face. Neither of them moved to touch the other. His eyes were wide and haunted, remembering. “I’ve only seen her once, but I remembered her face, so wide-eyed and innocent. She was on the dock, near the detonation site, the day it exploded.”