#bertha loud

[antoinettecoswayupdates]

I love modern au Blantha so much sorry. I love my obnoxious Pilates influencer and her scary gf who bathes twice a month

[janmisali]

Super Mario Bracket: FINAL ROUND

"You're about to have a really terrible experience!"

Vivian

SEED: 1 (215 nominations)

PREVIOUS OPPONENT: Daisy

SPECIES: Shadow

DEBUT: The Thousand-Year Door

BIO: Vivian is one of the main characters of Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door for the GameCube and its 2024 remake for the Switch. while she is introduced as an antagonist along with her sisters, she later joins Mario, at a time when all of Mario's friends have abandoned him.

Vivian's arc is one of the most memorable parts of one of the most critically acclaimed games in the greater Super Mario franchise. the 2024 remake of The Thousand-Year Door was specifically praised by critics and fans alike for making Vivian's transgender identity textually explicit in the English-language release, which had been censored in the original 2004 localization.

in the Super Mario Bracket, Vivian has consistently been one of the strongest competitors, from before the bracket even began. in the preliminaries, she received over twice as many nominations as the second most nominated character, Luigi. she has yet to finish a match with anything less than 70% of the vote, as can be seen in her previous matches against Dribble & Spitz, Goomba, Kamek, Count Bleck, Big Bertha, and Daisy.

[Super Mario Wiki article]

"I'm The Old Psychic Lady with the Evil Eye Who Reads Fortunes and Knows Everything Before It Happens."

The Old Psychic Lady with the Evil Eye Who Reads Fortunes and Knows Everything Before It Happens

SEED: 38 (17 nominations)

PREVIOUS OPPONENT: Luigi

SPECIES: Human

DEBUT: The Super Mario Bros. Super Show!

BIO: The Old Psychic Lady with the Evil Eye Who Reads Fortunes and Knows Everything Before It Happens is a character from the live-action segment "The Great Hereafter" from The Super Mario Bros. Super Show!. she is a spirit medium who brings Mario and Luigi into contact with the ghost of their deceased grandmother.

The Super Mario Bros. Super Show! is, among English-speaking Mario fans, one of the most well-known of the Super Mario franchise's non-video game works. its live action half-episodes were either paired with animated Super Show! episodes, or (as is the case for "The Great Hereafter") with episodes of the Legend of Zelda animated series.

The Old Psychic Lady with the Evil Eye Who Reads Fortunes and Knows Everything Before It Happens is introduced after Mario suggests to Luigi that they should talk to "the old lady with the evil eye that she could tell fortunes and she could tell things before they happen", just before the woman in question rings the doorbell and says her full title out loud.

in the Super Mario Bracket, The Old Psychic Lady with the Evil Eye Who Reads Fortunes and Knows Everything Before It Happens has gained a notable dedicated following, winning new fans over almost entirely from her name alone. her pure appeal has led her to win against Ms. Mowz, Funky Kong, Yoshi, Elvira, Rosalina, and Luigi: a remarkable achievement.

[Super Mario Wiki article]

[link to all polls]

[melit0n]

Anytime I see people who say 'Erik should have gotten Christine!' I always let out such a loud sigh because they are completely missing the point of the book.

The tradgedy is not, and never has been, the fact that The Phantom didn't get Christine, it's the fact that he never got to be human.

Erik, as a character, is so insanely full of love and yearning and that is exactly what leads people to sympathise with him; to lead them to the point of 'if he got the girl everything would be fine'. He's poetic with his suffering and expresses his truama in a obsessive and borderline psychopathic way in order to deal with it and get what he wants. To have what he never had; real affection. To be kissed without his masked chucked at his face.

To be looked at with fondness instead of fear.

Leroux's whole point with the character of The Phantom isn't that he's another man who deserved the girl, his point was how real life literature Others are treated. Erik is both The Hunchback of Notre Dame's Quasimodo and Jane Eyre's Bertha Mason. Both, of which, despite the fact they don't conform to societal standards, still deserve to be treated as humans.

Erik deserves to be treated like a human despite his deformity, despite his otherness that has literally forced him into the basement of an Opera House he helped build; to be loved like any human wants love. Everybody in that book demonises him for such a human feeling and that is the point. That is the metaphorical kick to the chest.

Further, rounding back around to the 'if he got the girl everything would be fine'. If Erik got Christine, he wouldn't learn that the fact he murdered multiple people to get there, that he threatened to blow up half of Paris, that he tricked a young girl into believing he was her dead father, was wrong. If he got what he wanted, with no consequences, then it wouldn't teach Erik anything, because he would never learn what real affection would be like.

That's why, at the end of the book, where Christine shows him genuine love, willingly, he absolutely crumbles because he realises that is what it means to be human. To feel human; pure love given of someone's own accord.

To love is to be changed, as the poets' say, and that's exactly what it does to him.

[strniohoeee]

Hidden In The Shadows Pt. 2

Part 1 Here

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is awoken with fear and feels the shadows of anxiety constantly creeping up on her. Trying to find out more about this town some boundaries are crossed, and some weird things are done….keep reading to find out more📞

Warnings⚠️: Paranoid reader, weirdo locals, talks of cult and rituals andddd that’s about it???😏

Song for imagine: I Walk The Line: Joaquin Phoenix

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that binds

Because you’re mine

I walk the line

Right

Left

Right

Left, no right….

Right again?

Then a left? Fuck I think I’m lost?

It’s so fucking dark, just pay attention

One more left and then I should be

BANG

I jumped up immediately confused, I was blinded by the bright light of the sun and the loud bang of a shotgun?

I opened my eyes fully and felt so confused, I squinted as I looked in front of me

“Matt?” I asked shielding my eyes from the sun

“Don’t worry now darlin they’re coming for us” he said offering me his hand

It was only then that I finally realized my surroundings. I was deep in a corn field, not just deep; but at the core where they usually have the scarecrows. It was such an eerie sight!

Frantically I looked around at my surroundings, I was laying on the ground in my pajamas from the night before.

“What? How did I get here? I’m so confused” I said rubbing my head and looking around

“It’s okay sweetheart, listen sleepwalking is normal” Matt said looking down at me

“I don’t sleep walk” I stated shaking my head rapidly

“You’re in a new surrounding and your body just isn’t used to it, I think you tried to leave but you were still asleep” he said lending his hand out to me

“No you don’t understand, I don’t do that…. I mean how did you even find me?” I asked him after grabbing his hand to lift myself up

“Well you see I went to round up Bertha this mornin’ and I saw your front door open, cept’ you wasn’t round. I called out your name, but nothing. But then I noticed footprints in the dirt down yonder by your driveway. They lead to the cornfield and I yelled your name again, but still nuffin. I rounded up my boys and told them I was going in and I'd shoot off this shotgun once I found you. They’ll be coming in to help us out” he said looking at me with soft eyes

“God this is so weird…. Thank you! I appreciate it. I’m sorry for the trouble this morning” I said to him as I offered him a weak smile

“Nahh don’t worry about it I’m just glad I was able to find you before something happened” he said to me

“Is there something I should be worried about in this field?” I asked cocking my brows at him

“Oh no no it’s just wild animals that are brave and try huntin in the mornin” he said smiling at me

Shortly his friend came in to help us out of the field. They led the way while I was in the back. Matt looked back at me every couple seconds to make sure I was okay. A nice gesture but I still felt super uncomfortable.

“Right, left, right, left no right….right again? Then a left? Fuck I think I’m lost” one of his friends whisper shouted

My head shot up and my eyes widened….that is exactly the last thing I remember hearing…. I immediately became uneasy and anxious

The other boys nudged him and whispered curses at him as they pushed him to walk faster.

“You come to pick corn every couple days and you can’t find your way out?” Matt asked him trying to ease the awkward silence and weird tension in the air

“No no! I’m good don’t worry bout it” he shouted back to Matt as he stomped on the ground, pushing through the field

Leading me out of the cornfield I thanked them as Matt walked me back to my house. Looking down as I walked my feet dirty with dried up mud. And my pajamas caked in dirt….I seemed a bit too dirty for someone who just happened to stroll into a corn field.

Walking me up to my door I turned to Matt and smiled at him, opening my mouth I began

“Listen I’m sorry for the trouble once again, and this isn’t something I normally do like ever; but just know this will never happen again” I said to him

“No worries! Just calm your nerves ain’t nothing wrong with this town to make you so jumpy instantly” he says laughing a bit

“Right….well I’m going to head in now. As you can see I’m a bit dirty” I say laughing

“Of course! I’ll see you round” he says before nodding his head and taking off

Stepping into the house I shut the door behind me almost instantly locking it. I stomped upstairs to the bathroom. I got the shower running as I removed my dirty clothes and looked at my body. I had a few scratches but nothing that seemed abnormal….. was I going insane? Was I now a sleep walker? Or was something darker going on already?

I shook it off and hopped in the shower. Once I was done and got dressed I decided to sit on my couch, chewing at my nails as my leg bounced up and down. This anxiety was clawing at me and I couldn’t stop it.

Pulling my phone out I opened my emails and saw I had a new email from my old professor

Dear Y/N,

I can’t believe you actually bit the bullet and went! This is awesome and I’m looking forward to hearing all about your experiences. I read those articles and it’s actually crazy! I did a few more google searches and even ended up on Reddit. Supposedly Thomas Sturniolo has family out in Pleasant Town. I wonder if they still use the same name and if you’ll ever run into them! And as far as the realtor guy he for sure sounds like a weirdo! Haha, who has that name anymore? But then again it is a small town in the south! Please keep me posted!

Sincerely, Professor Wayne

I sighed with relief at the email back from him, for a split second I felt like I had some normality in my life, and I decided to email him back

Dear Professor Wayne,

Thank you for getting back to me! I’ll for sure keep an eye out for any Sturniolos! I sure hope they don’t go by that same name anymore, but I’m still not sure. I’d have to go to the local library and search the database. Who even knows if they have a library here….sure doesn’t seem like it!

However something so weird happened to me last night. I think I was sleepwalking? I’ve never done that before, but I have no recollection of the night before. I must be an extreme deep sleeper! But how does one end up muddy in the middle of a cornfield and not wake up? Am I being paranoid, or am I right to be a little concerned? I mean this was only the first night…. I think I’m just scaring myself! Anyways, I hope to hear from you soon!

Sincerely, Y/N Y/L/N

Hitting send I sighed as I laid my phone down on the couch. Rubbing my hands through my hair as I shook my head. That uneasy feeling went away as soon as I realized how hungry I was.

Remembering I never got to go out last night I decided to hit the stores today. However I didn’t know where anything was and I was on edge, so I decided to see if Matt was available to take me to the stores.

Stepping outside I locked my front door, and to my surprise Matt was outside tuning something in his car. I looked both ways before crossing the dirt road

“Hey Matt” I said to the young man as his arm cranked rapidly while his tongue was in between his teeth, in a fit of concentration

“Oh hey darlin” he says quickly snapping out of it and looking at me

“I really don’t mean to bother, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to take me to your nearest market so I can get some food” I said to him smiling

“Oh sure thing, let me finish tightening this and we can take my truck” he says smiling at me

“Sure thing” I say backing up

Cranking the wrench again he gave a satisfied face once he realized the piece was fixed. Matt shut the hood…well more like slammed it before dusting his hands off. Using a handkerchief in his pocket to wipe them clean fully.

“My uhh, my passenger side door doesn’t work or else I’d be opening it for you on that side” he stated as he opened the driver side door and looked back at me

“Oh that’s alright I appreciate it” I said as I patted his arm and hopped into his truck

He hopped in after me and shut the door, starting the car up. His tongue stuck out between his lips as the ignition sputtered and then his engine roared to life

“Now that’s what I’m talkin bout” he said tapping the steering wheel

“Did you fix her up?” I asked him as I looked inside the car

“Oh I sure did! 1950 Chevy 3100 . Belonged to my great grandpa and it got handed down to me. I fixed her up nicely. New paint job, new interior and new parts” he said smiling while looking at me

“It’s really nice, to see a car this old running fantastically” I replied back to him

“Yeah, I mean it didn’t need much. My great grandpa got it as his retirement car but then he passed away and it was left to my pops who didn’t care for it, so he left it to me” he replied

“Wow, this is awesome though. I love old cards so much” I replied nodding my head at him

Nodding back we sat in silence, the breeze of the warm air and the sound of a faint country song playing in the background.

“Say you guys wouldn’t happen to have a library here would you?” I asked suddenly

“Oh we do! The smallest library in all of the United States” he said looking over at me

“Fuck yes, is it cool if I stop by there for a bit?” I asked him

“Sure thing darlin” he stated back

About 10 minutes later we were in their “city” which was probably the furthest thing from a city. Everything was right next to each other. Pulling into a parking spot we hopped out. Matt held onto my hand as he helped me hop out of his truck.

Offering a smile as I silently thanked him. Leading me over to the local market they had there. He had gone his way as I grabbed a cart and began to shop.

The buzzing of the old light fixtures and the ominous silence made me a bit queasy. Looking over my shoulders every couple of seconds.

As I was grabbing a couple of basic necessities as far as food I made my way over to the laundry detergent. Scanning what they add and silently choosing my options. I heard giggling to the left of me, so I turned my head, and to my surprise there was a group of kids no younger than 10 looking at me and laughing. Some of the kids even stared at me with wide eyes….almost like they knew me. I offered a polite smile and grabbed what I needed.

I headed down to the frozen section in the back of the store. Looking at the milk options I heard the whispered chatter again and the laughs. So I looked into the glass reflection and saw those same kids staring at me. Getting fed up I abruptly turned around

“It’s not nice to stare” I said to them bluntly

“Ye ain’t s’pose to be here” One taller boy said almost like he was growling at me? Like a dog?

“Says Who?” I asked him cocking a brow at him

“Ye just ain’t” he said again glaring at me with his cold eyes

“You don’t own the town” I said sucking my teeth at him

“Ohh my daddy’s gone’ be real upset when he sees you here” The boy said as his friends snickered with him

“You’re such a little shit” I mumbled under my breath as I turned around and rolled my eyes

“You better get out here before you stuck forever” One of his little friends said

I ignored him, but I couldn’t ignore the chill that ran up my spine at that statement. These people were such fucking weirdos and one more instance was going to be my sign to pack up and leave.

Too into my thoughts, my hand had gripped the handle to the door roughly as I fought with myself. Zoning out completely I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder

“You alright?” I heard from behind me

I jumped and gasped before looking over my shoulder, a calmness taking over once I saw it was Matt.

“Yeah…yeah sorry I guess I got distracted” I said shaking my head

“Too many milk options?” He asked laughing

“You could say that” I replied wiping sweat off my forehead

“I’ll wait for you outside you seem a bit on edge” he said to me before backing away

“Alright thanks” I said to him

I quickly grabbed my milk and the last bit of groceries I needed. Heading to checkout before meeting Matt outside.

“Oh darlin you should’ve yelled for some help, let me get that for you” he replied taking some bags from me

“It ain’t nothing, I appreciate it though” I stated smiling at him

Matt and I put the groceries back in the truck, and he showed me to the library.

“Whatcha here looking for?” He asked me as we strolled down the aisles

“Nothing in particular, maybe some history” I said smiling at him

“History?” He asked cocking a brow at me

“I love all things history” I replied back as my fingers danced along the cover of some books

“I hate to break it to you, but uhhh we ain’t got no history books” he said laughing

“And why is that?” I asked furrowing my brows

“About a year ago the whole history section was set on fire by some hooligans, damn near took out the whole back side of the library. Were just glad people was round to help stop the fire” he replied back

“How convenient” I said offering him a tight lip smile

“I mean they’re trying to get that back section up and running again but without the funds we can’t get it properly fixed nor get those books back” he stated shrugging his shoulders

“Man that sucks, but I guess romance books will suffice” I state to him

“Oh I hate that shit, I’ll be outside waiting for you” he said laughing

“Whatttt no Colleen Hoover? No Nicholas Sparks?” I asked him pretending to be offended

“Oh no that’s all you” he said laughing and throwing his hands up

I trotted over to the romance section as Matt left browsing the section before quickly looking for Matt. I saw that he crossed the street and headed into a bait and tackle shop.

Smiling to myself I trotted away from romance and walked around, looking for a worker. Once I found one I walked up to her

“I’m so sorry to bother, but I know this town is full of history and was an important asset to many people, where would I find records of all the important people from this town throughout history?” I asked the worker

“Oh yeah we have a format on our computers it should be open just scroll down to pleasant town history and it’ll show you everything you need” she replied back

“Thank you so much Faye! It was great meeting you” I said to her before walking away

Making sure Matt was still nowhere to be found I rushed over to a computer. I clicked Pleasant Town History. And it was dumbed down into categories. My eyes lit up once I found crop, animal and farm owners. Immediately clicking I scrolled through the names.

“Stacey….Stanley….Stuart……Stu…..Sturnham….” My eyes squinted once I saw the next name was actively crossed out with a black border over the name.

Counting through the alphabet I realized “I” was after “H”…… it only took a few seconds before my eyes widened. Sturniolo? It was gone….scratched from this list?

I went over to homeowners and Sturniolo was blocked out once again, I slowly went to car owners, Chevy 3100 truck….. Sturnham…. And then blocked out again?

The gears started to click and I immediately became anxious. There could be no possible way that….hes Matts great grandfather? Right??

I figured there’s no way Matt could be related to someone like that. I mean yes he was a weirdo, but nothing like that…..

I exited out of everything and quickly walked to the exit. Swinging the door open I slammed into someone.

“Woah little lady where you headed” I heard Matt say laughing

“Sorry, didn’t see you there” I said frantically

“Oh no worries….found what you were looking for?” He asked raising an eyebrow

“What?” I asked as I swallowed thickly

“A romance book? Did you find one you were interested in?” He asked a bit puzzled

“Oh no uhhh none that peaked my interest” I stated smiling at him

“Well it’s almost lunch time, so I’m planning on heading back home” he said to me

“Yes, lunch! Very important, let's go!” I said nervously as I walked to his car

Matt peered at me with a bent neck and furrowed brows, but I just smiled at him as he followed me back to his truck.

Hopping in we headed back home, and to my surprise Matt helped me bring the grocery bags in.

“Here uhh let me make you lunch to say thanks” I said to Matt as I grabbed the loaf of bread from his hands

“Oh no sweetheart, don’t worry bout it” he said smiling

“No please! It’s the least I could do” I said to him nodding my head

“Well alright” he replied giving in

“How’s peanut butter and jelly with some milk?” I asked him

“Sounds mighty fine” he replied back nodding his head

I made our sandwiches and poured us some milk as we sat across from one another. Slowly eating as we occasionally exchanged glances.

“So uh..” I started

“Great sandwich” Matt said smacking his lips to get the peanut butter down

“Oh thank you” I replied giggling as I took a sip of my milk

“You seemed a bit on edge earlier, is everything alright?” He asked me as he took a sip as well

“Oh yeah, just some kids saying weird things to me. Makes me feel unsafe” I said to him

“What did they say?” He asked sitting up in his chair

“That I don’t belong here and I should leave before something happens?” I said rubbing my forehead

“Little bastards….listen don’t pay attention to a word they say. Those little assholes have nothing better to do than pick on people” he replied shaking his head

“Yeah I figured, but with the weird morning I was having I just freaked myself out” I said to him

“Understandable, but don’t worry you’re safe here” he replied offering me a warm smile

“I uhh… i have a question” I said to him

“Spill the beans then” he said ushering me to talk

“You see I did some research today in the library” I said to him

“Ahhh so no romance books” he said laughing

“No, but there seems to be something weird with the information on this town” I said to him

“You were looking up this town because?” He asked chewing a bit slower

“Well I want to learn more about where I’m living” I said in a duh tone

“Okay…” he replied a bit annoyed

“Who’s the Sturniolos and why is that name scratched out of almost all the public records?” I asked him

Immediately I regretted my decision. Something switched in the boy and his eyes grew cold as his nostrils flared. He slid his tongue along the front of his teeth. Inhaling sharply he slammed his hand down on the table

I gasped and jumped at this, my eyes popping out of my head.

“You don’t mention that name, you don’t read about that name and you sure as hell don’t think about that FUCKING NAME” he said yelling the last part

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you I swear” I said starting to frantically panic

“That name has destroyed everything good in this town. We don’t claim that man or his bloodline. He’s done unimaginable and unforgivable things” Matt said pursing his lips together and grinding his teeth

“Please forgive me Matt. I meant no harm at all just wanting to know some history. I swear I meant nothing by it” I replied throwing my hands up

“It’s alright, I’m sorry sweetheart for scaring you. I just haven’t gotten over what that evil man did” he replied calming down

“No it’s my fault” I said to him

“It’s not your fault” he replied finishing his milk

“I’m truly sorry” I stated once again

“I’ll meet you tonight at 7pm, I’ll take you to dinner and I’ll explain a little more about that man” he said to me nodding his head

“Oh alright” I said to him nodding my head

With that he put his dishes in the sink and stomped out the house. The rattle of the front door sent a shiver down my spine.

Later that evening I had gotten ready, stepping out my front door and locking it. I turned around to see Matt already waiting by his car for me

Hopping in we headed back into that same area from earlier. Taking me into one of the restaurants we sat for dinner. Using this as my advantage to squeeze some more information out of matt.

“This place is really nice” I said to him obviously lying through my teeth

“Bet it’s nothing like Vegas” he said pushing my chair in for me

“Well not much can beat Vegas, but for a small town this is a nice place” I replied to him

“This is my favorite spot even since I was a kid” he said looking over at me

“Have you always lived here?” I asked him

“My whole life” he said back

“Wow… and you’ve never been anywhere else?” I asked him

“No never, mama says there ain’t much for me to see out there anyway” he said

“With all due respect to your mother…. I disagree. There’s a whole world out there you have yet to see” I said to him

Cracking a smile at me he nodded, his eyes glazing over and shimmering with a saddened look….. one that screams I’m trapped and will never be able to leave

The dinner went well and I learned a lot about his childhood, but nothing about the town. However, that was until we walked the town a bit.

“So about earlier, I just want to say that man was an evil man. He lied, manipulated, stole and killed all for his personal benefit.” Matt said to me

“Did your family have personal ties to him?” I asked him as we walked

“Sort of. He had a farm and he watched my ancestors' animals ... .except instead he killed them. Believing in some weird ritual. Saying how these cult rituals would bring the town fortune” he said shaking his head

“And I’m guessing that was false” I scoffed a bit

“Oh very wrong…. And he was arrested, my ancestors had no animals and because they had no animals they couldn’t make money nor survive really. They spent a lot of time moving around Oklahoma before they could eventually come back here” he replied shrugging his shoulders

“Holy shit…that’s awful” I said exhaling

“It is but hey there’s not much else to do other than move on” he said to me

“Well I appreciate you taking the time to explain this to me…. And I’m sorry for bringing it up randomly earlier…it was wrong” I said to him

“It’s alright darlin” he said smiling and bumping my shoulder with his own

We walked around a bit more before heading back to our houses a little after 9pm. We enjoyed the breezy and quiet drive home.

Parking his car by his house he walked me over to my own house.

“Oh thank you Matt you didnt have walk me over” I stated smiling at him

“I would never leave a pretty lady to walk home alone at night” he said smiling at me

Looking down and blushing slightly I shook my head

“I enjoyed today a lot, thank you very much” I said to him

“You’re welcome sugar” he said back

“I’m going to head in for the night and get some shut eye. I’m super tired” I said yawning

“Me too! We’ll have a good night Y/N” he said to me

“Goodnight Matt” I replied back

Smiling at him I pulled him in for a friendly hug, and to my surprise he actually hugged back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” I stated pulling away

“Goodnight” he said smiling at me and waving bye

I shut the door and locked it, making my way up to my room and preparing for bed.

Matts POV

Watching the young woman shut the door his smile dropped, and guilt and shame immediately filled his heart and mind. So taken aback by the hug and how nice Y/N was to him today he didn’t know how to feel.

Walking down the steps of her porch, he trotted over to his own house. Slipping in quietly and locking the door behind him. Silently slithering into his room he shut and locked the door.

Putting his pajamas on he laid on his bed as the moonlight lightly casted in through his windows. His mind wandered as he remembered what took place almost 19 hours prior….

Flashback

“Will you shut the fuck up and pick the lock faster” I yelled at my friend

“Well Matt I’m tryin but it’s dark out here” Bo said back to me in anger

“Just hurry” I said through gritted teeth

Within 30 seconds we heard the click and sighed in relief. Quietly ushering into Y/N’s house, we shut the door behind ourselves.

“Nate you pass me the chloroform and Bo and I will bring her downstairs” I said to my other friend

“Sure thing” he said nodding his head

Walking up the stairs we turned to the left and walked to the door that was closed. To our surprise it was her bedroom.

We walked in and I walked up to Y/N

“Y/N! Wake up” I said to her as I shook her

Jumping up out of her sleep she seemed confused and scared, but snapping my fingers I signaled to Nate. Instantly he handed me the chloroform and a rag, dozing the rag in the chemical I held it over her nose. Immediately she fell limp into my arms.

Nate took the supplies out of my hands and Bo came over to help me. Pulling her from under her arms we dragged her down the stairs.

“Leave the front door open so it seems like she left on her own” I said to Nate

“Got it” he replied eagerly

Rushing out the house we dragged her through the gravel and when we got to the dirt road Bo and I stood her up. Leaving footprints from the end of her driveway to the start of the cornfield.

“What about our footprints?” Bo asked me as we approached the corn field

“We’ll worry about that later come on” I said to him

Dragging Y/N into the center of the corn field we laid her down. Arms spread out and ankles touching.

“Are you sure you know how to do a sacrifice?” Nate asked me

“I learned from my grandfather and my dad I know what I’m doing” I replied back to him

“I don’t know this seems like too much” Nate said to me

“You’re getting cold feet now? After all this! You told me you were ready” I stated getting angry at him

“I know, but this seems all too much” Nate stated

“You don’t think I feel the same way? I said squinting at him in anger

“Man I think we should wait” Nate said

“You’re such a pussy” Bo said laughing at the boy

“I’m not ready” Nate said to us

“FINE! FINE! We’ll figure this out for another day” I said standing up

“Because of this chicken shit?” Bo said standing up

“I need everyone to be on board, so if one’s out then we’re all out” I said shaking my head

“Come on man” Bo said shaking his head

“Let’s go! help me get her up, we gotta get her back to her house” I said shaking my head

It started to drizzle as we lifted Y/N up. Holding her by her arms as we dragged her through the field.

“Right, Left ,Right, Left, no right….Right again? Then a left? Fuck I think I’m lost?” Bo said as we trotted through the cornfield

The rain became heavier which made it harder for us to see, and slippery. Our boots got stuck in the wet dirt.

“Fuck it’s dark! I need to pay attention” He said loudly as he wiped the water from his eyes

“Where am I? What’s going on?” Y/N started to say in a drunken groggy state

“Fuck….we gotta go” I said looking at Bo

“Matt? Is that you? What’s going on?” She asked as she tried to stand up

“Shhhh” I said to her

“I’m really scared, what's going on?” She asked starting to cry

“Chloroform now” I said to Nate

Nate quickly wet the rag again in Chloroform and shoved it in Y/N’s face. Choked whines of agony escaped her lips before she fell limp again.

“Bring her back to the center” I yelled over the rain

“What! Are you crazy?” Bo yelled at me

“We have to bring her back, this is all messy! I’ll tell her a good story in the morning. She’ll believe me. Come on” I said frantically

Dragging her back through the mud her pants and feet were completely caked in mud. Shaking my head we laid her on her back again.

She was knocked out cold, but I really hoped she stood that way till I came to “rescue” her in the morning.

The three of us ran back out of the corn field eventually. Not having to worry about our footprints because they would match up with my story of us going on the lookout for her!

Flashback over

Matt was disgusted with what he had done. He was no better than the sick men that once ruled this town. He tried to push the feelings deep down but they kept bubbling to the surface.

Forcing his eyes shut and trying to fall asleep. Praying he could somehow find a way to make this all better….

But for now he was hidden in the shadows of his mind and the only escape was….

You.

The End

This will most def have another part LOLLL, I’m sorry this took me forever to get out, but I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did🤭🖤. I wonder how I’m going to play out the next part. But let me know, did I throw you for a loop with this one???? Anywho we’re almost at 2,100 followers which is absolutely bonkers 🤯. I love yall sooo much 🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

Tags: @kqyslyho3 @gamermattsgf @iloveneilperry

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 14

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Claudia what the fuck are you doing? This is a whole level of stupid not even a sheltered background can be blamed for. I get why it happened, they wanted a baby out of wedlock storyline, but keeping within the story - this is just - I suddenly find myself questioning whether Claudia would know how to get through a closed door on her own accord. I do guess it does explain why we never see her in charge of the register. Girl is as bright as a rainy November night and as sharp as a plastic spoon.

Fina really not wanting to do the commercial thing. Being nervous around Marta and well, the whole idea. Her friends keep her there though. Marta not helping by being unable to let this bone lie, she instantly digs into Fina who is a stiff nervous wreck in front of the camera. Also look at Marta’s body language throughout this entire scene. Each time she's in front of Fina her arms are folded tightly across her chest in a gesture that probably is as much an attempt at intimidation as it is a subconscious protective self-hug. Looking at Fina, being around Fina, releases things she seems to want to be able to ward herself from. Unfortunately, that is not quite how physical attraction works. It’s usually very insistent and sharp enough to cut through anything you try to smother it in.

This is a Baroque painting if I ever saw one. The Suffering of Saint Bertha, patron of "no patience" and lesbians - elevated by stubborn cherubs. One of Caravaggio's lessern known works.

Marta watching Marcos with Fina like a hawk. Yeah, that thing inside her chest, you can see that it keeps picking up speed. Also, something tells me she has the ability to be spectacularly possessive under certain circumstances.

Marta’s reaction as Marcos kisses her. She doesn’t mind having her ego stroked for a bit, but that’s where the line is.

He’s a ballsy little twat though, telling Marta that he gets it, that her heart is already taken. She twirls her ring and says, “yes, my husband”. And he calls her out and says, “Fina.” With that he rocks her world entirely loose from its settings. She calls him crazy and tries to run away from him and what he says. First picking up a folder as a shield and then hiding behind the desk seeking cover. He goes on and mentions that he sees the way she looks at her, how Fina is a magnet pulling her in. He is very decent about it though, telling her that tastes are personal and should never be judged by others. I honestly love how many supportive people this world is populated with. Some right bastards too, but a lot of really supportive people. Marta however goes into a visible halt and catch fire loop and can’t even seem to come up with a response, being confronted like that, no matter what, will always make her short-circuit into a stuttering mess. Her silent face journey as he closes the door is a thing of beauty. It’s both comedic and telling. 

Yeah, the realisation that the little moustachioed fucker is right. I think her body had felt the pull, but it's probably not until this moment that there were words to express it with. I don't think she's quite ready to handle those words yet though. But now they are there, spoken out loud and tangible and made so terribly dangerous because of it.

Marta taking care of business and mediating peace between her brother and Luis. Ending up being her having to tell her dumbass brother to shut the fuck up and he does, but the damage is already done and Luis walks out the door and the company. Jesús is such an incredibly bad businessman. The fact that their company haven’t gone straight to hell already is a true testament to Marta’s business acumen. 

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

While I am in a process of writing next part of "If you were not alone", a small bonus.

Back in this post, I showed two of my BSD OCs. Some people wanted to knew more about this two, so, here I will put some information about them. Feel free to ask questions about them in the comments, or ignore this post.

Warning: Some heavy topics (slavery, child abuse)

Pecrew

Bertha

Ability: Doesn't have one.

Age: 17

Birthday: 20th of May

Height: 175 cm / 5' 9"

Weight: 61 kg / 134 lb

Blood type: AB

Love: Jericho

Like: Fyodor Dostoevsky, rats, Karma, Sigma

Dislike: dolphins

Hate: Her biological family and village she grew in

Youngest member of Rats in the house of the dead.

She was born in a village that was run by an ability-centric cult. They proclaimed, that ability users were above non-ability users.

So, of course, her parents, cultists, two ability users, wanted to have a child with an ability. When Bertha was born, they were sure, that she would have an ability.

Each year, the Celebration of True Powers were held, during which Cult Leader, Yevgeny Zamyatin (another of my OCs) used his ability to reveal, if newborn kids of cultists have abilities.

During one of them, it was revealed, that Bertha didn't have an ability.

For ten years her parents did everything, to destroy her self-worth. For years Bertha was sure, that "parasite without ability" was a mistake and should be grateful, that she is allowed to live. That the only reason she was allowed to stay was because her parents need someone to look after them, when they became old.

When Bertha was ten, her sister was born. And her sister had an ability.

Her parents didn't need her anymore.

So, they do what other cultist were doing, when someone in their families didn't have an ability.

Bertha's parents sold Bertha to one of Zamyatin's accomplices, so she would be forced to work in the mines.

Six months passed.

After an incident with guards in the mines, Bertha was punished by being locked in a cage. She wasn't allowed to have food or water.

After three days, she was 'saved'.

Fyodor Dostoevsky tried to get some valuable information from mines' owner. They arranged a meeting, but, the owner, gets too arrogant and tried to capture Fyodor, to have another slave (and ability user) to work in the mines. Fyodor killed the owner and, to make sure, that there were no witnesses, killed guards and slaves.

But he couldn't kill Bertha, who, at that point, was dying from dehydration and starvation. She reminds Fyodor of someone from his past. For the first time in years, Fyodor acted on his emotions, saved Bertha and took her with him.

After emotions died down, Fyodor was faced with reality. Now he has a ten-year-old girl in his lair and have no idea what to do with her.

She still reminds her of someone, so he can't kill her. He is not that heartless to throw her on streets. But, he also not suitable to be a father. But, Bertha wasn't looking the best, years of abuse and last six months didn't make her look healthy.

After some thinking, Fyodor decided to let Bertha stay until she gained some weight and became a little bit healthier. Until then, Fyodor will search for an orphanage or a family that could take her in.

So, Bertha start living with Fyodor.

Slowly, they opened up to each other. Bertha was treated as a human being for the first time in her life, and Fyodor enjoyed her company.

At the end, Fyodor decided to let Bertha stay with him forever. Bertha, who, thanks to Fyodor's views on abilities, stopped thinking about herself as a lesser being, asked Fyodor to teach her to be more like him.

Bertha start seeing Fyodor as her father figure.

Bertha wants to be strong, to prove anyone, that she isn't weak and can be strong if not stronger, then ability users.

Relationship:

Fyodor Dostoevsky - Bertha saw him as father figure. Fyodor also feels protective over Bertha.

Nikolai Gogol - A little bit complicated. Nikolai treats Bertha nicely, even calls her "his honorary niece", but he is too loud for her liking. Still, they are on a good/neutral terms.

Ivan Goncharov - his obsession with Fyodor and her freaks Bertha out. She tries to avoid him.

Alexander Pushkin - during their first meeting, he made a huge mistake, when tried to laugh at her not having an ability. Unfortunately for him, Bertha was living with Fyodor for a few years already. And she has been training. She almost hung Pushkin up, and only Fyodor's interference saved his life. Now Pushkin is horrified of Bertha.

Karma - Bertha managed to talk Fyodor down from killing Karma. Now Karma is Bertha's underling. She treats him nice and saw him as her friend. They are on friendly terms.

Sigma - her favorite member of Decay of Angels (after Fyodor, of course), Bertha wants to be friends with Sigma. She is quite familiar with the feeling of being an outcast and stranger in the own home.

Jericho - this two met on Yokohama streets one day. They start meeting more often and became friends. Slowly, they fell in love. They understand each other, because they are quite similar (both have terrible past, both are 'adopted' by geniuses with gray morals and, both have trust issues).

Jericho

Abilitiy: "Raven came to Raven" let him transform into a raven-like monster.

Age: 17

Birthday: 10th of January

Weight: 72 kg / 158 lb

Height: 183 cm / 6' 0"

Blood type: AB

Love: Bertha

Like: Dazai Osamu, Oda Sakunosuke, cats, fat tail gerbils.

Dislike: Horses

Hate: His father and Parental grandmother, collars

Young Armed Detective Agency member. Result of arranged marriage and forced pregnancy.

After his mother, who had enough of Jericho's father constant cheating and of being forsed to had a child, committed suicide, his father and parental grandmother sold Jericho to the slavers, trying to get rid of him.

Three years passed.

One day, Jericho got almost killed by other slaves. That moment his ability activated.

In a rage, he killed all other slaves. He was captured, before he can kill someone from slavers.

Jericho was put in "last week" cage. If he won't be bought in a week, he would face fate worse, then death.

Jericho was bought by Port Mafia boss. Ougai Mori bought a twelve-year-old boy as a present for an eighteen-year-old Dazai Osamu.

Initially, Dazai was neglectful. He was harsh during trainings, and Jericho was too afraid of using his ability again.

After a week of Jericho being in Dazai's possession, Oda learned about it and interfered.

With his help (after he spent few hours shouting at Dazai for owning a slave and neglecting a child), Jericho's and Dazai's relationship became more or less normal.

Jericho start doing something during his trainings. He wasn't using his ability, still afraid.

Dazai, who warmed up towards Jericho for a bit, became nervous, knowing, that Mori could organize Jericho's death, if he won't start using his ability to benefit Port Mafia.

But one day, Jericho used his ability again.

It happened three months after Jericho was given to Dazai. At that point, it was clear, that Dazai treated Jericho better, than Akutagawa. So Akutagawa decided to prove, that he is better than some slave.

Jericho protected himself.

If it wasn't for Dazai's "No Longer Human", Akutagawa and Jericho would kill each other.

Jericho was left with a shoulder pierced by Rashomon (still sore during cold weather), and Akutagawa's arm was broken by Jericho's talons (Akutagawa still had scars, after all these years).

After Oda's death, Dazai left the mafia and took Jericho with him. During two years of hiding, Dazai and Jericho learned more about each other, slowly learning to care about each other. Dazai helped Jericho get a hold on his ability and took care of him when he became seriously sick. Right before Dazai joined the ADA, he gave Jericho a choice. Jericho could either be taken in by Ango and Special Division, or continue living with Dazai and join ADA. Jericho chooses to stay with Dazai.

Relationship:

Dazai Osamu - it is a miracle, but Jericho does view Dazai as a father figure. Jericho actually believes, that Dazai isn't a bad person, despite knowing what Dazai can do. Dazai does care about Jericho and his feelings. During their hiding, Dazai gave Jericho a pair of earrings, to mask piercings, that slavers made for a price tag.

Oda Sakunosuke - Jericho misses him. Sometimes, he is dreaming about having Oda as his father.

Kunikida Doppo - Jericho is not the biggest fan of Kunikida. He doesn't like, how Kunikida treats Dazai. Jericho, thanks to his past, doesn't like idealists. He knew, how terrible some people can be.

Bertha - loves her dearly.

____

Some facts:

Dazai and Fyodor are surprisingly capable fathers. Or, at least, they knew, how to treat Bertha and Jericho and be good parents for them.

Apartment, where Dazai and Jericho were hiding were small and only had one room, small kitchen and small bathroom. And first thing Dazai do when he and Jericho escaped Port Mafia was finding a folding screen, so Jericho had some sort of own room and privacy.

Jericho keep his hair long, because slavers constantly shorn it. For Jericho his hair is a symbol of him being in control.

During her first year living with Fyodor, Bertha tried to keep two rats she found on the street without asking him first. She immediately got caught by him. Bertha almost managed to make Fyodor let her keep them, but she made a mistake by revealing, that they are wild. Fyodor immediately made her return rats to the street.

During Dazai's shroom trip in the Entrance Exam arc, he put Jericho in a blanket burrito, so 'he would become a butterfly'. Jericho wasn't against staying in a soft blanket burrito.

When, during the Entrance Exam arc, Fukuzawa and Kunikida were thinking, if Dazai can be trusted, they thought, that Jericho is either also a criminal, or was kidnapped by Dazai.

When Bertha wanted to learn, how to apply makeup, Fyodor let her practice on him.

Bertha can't handle pure black coffee. She got some interesting side effect. After she drank black coffee, she has a burst of energy and start running in circles. Then she became clingy and would hug nearest familiar person (a.k.a. Fyodor). When it happened first time, Fyodor had to work with Bertha on his back for three hours.

Fyodor and Dazai are planning to visit biological relatives of their kids. Just to talk...

[princesssarisa]

A clarification about a triggering issue in "Jane Eyre"

I was just thinking back to Samantha Ellis's commentary in her book How to Be a Heroine about Jane Eyre.

In general, Ellis is an author I disagree with. Her feminist perspectives on classic literature are interesting and valuable, but I can't go along with her "Anne Brontë is the only good Brontë" view, or her blaming her former love of Wuthering Heights for the bad romantic relationships she had in her youth, or her dislike of Little Women, among other things. She also makes some inaccurate statements now and then, and that's what I want to address now.

Namely a remark she made about Jane Eyre.

She wrote that when Jane resolves to leave Rochester after the reveal of Bertha's existence, Rochester threatens to "crush her" and "tear her" if she tries to go.

Except he doesn't. The things he does say are bad enough, but he doesn't say that.

I just went back and reread the scene of their last meeting before Jane runs away. Near the beginning of the scene, when Rochester realizes Jane has resolved to leave him, he threatens to "try violence" if she won't listen to reason. Now, I'm not quite sure what he means by this. The annotations in the Penguin Classics edition interpret it as an outright threat to rape Jane. But I'm not sure if that's what he really means, or if he's "just" threatening to hit her, or (more generously, but harder to believe) if he just means violent emotion.

But whatever he means, that one sentence is the only real threat he makes to Jane.

The section Ellis is thinking of is later in the scene. Rochester goes off on a tangent, more to himself than to Jane – as he's prone to do – about how physically fragile Jane is. How easy to would be for him to "crush" and "tear" her, among other brutal imagery, and to "conquer" her body. Now again, I don't know exactly what Rochester means. I'm not sure if he means literal rape, or if he just means using abuse to coerce her into staying with him. (Of course there's arguably not much difference, because either way Jane would end up in his bed against her will.) But the important thing is that in this speech, he's not threatening to do it. The conclusion he comes to is that he won't do it, because it would do him no good. Even if he possessed Jane's body by force, her spirit would still be out of his reach, and it's her spirit he wants. The ultimate point of the speech is that he won't abuse or threaten her because he wants her to love him willingly.

Now, is it okay that he even contemplates the option of using violence to force Jane to be his? That it even crosses his mind, let alone that he says it out loud in brutal, visceral language? No! On a purely emotional level, for me at least, this is almost worse than the attempted bigamy.

But he talks about it – again, more to himself than to Jane – only to resolve not to do it. Apart from one brief, ambiguous line at the very beginning of the scene, he doesn't threaten to do it as Ellis claimed.

I don't know if this makes Rochester any more redeemable or the central romance any less problematic. But personally, I think Ellis painted him as more of a monster than he really is.

[sadnessisavegetable]

Betsy and Bertha, and Bingus and Tabatha.

I have thoughts about all of these chickens different personalities, and I think it’s funny that they came rather close to the extremes of both Ghirahim and Zant’s behaviors (though simplified).

More information and rambles under cut! I only shortened with a cut because I rambled long!

Betsy is a friendly and sweet chicken who genuinely likes people. Bertha is an angry freak who killed the rooster (metaphorically, I know there are no roosters in Stardew Valley) for no reason except him looking at her wrong.

Bingus is the most anxious and loud velcro chicken ever, she needs to be held and put in little pajamas or she will scream. Tabatha is a menace, but in the way where she is rather imposing and seems to be the boss, she’s acting like a rooster.

The reasoning behind the naming styles:

Betsy(brown) and Bertha(void) are little old lady names that Ghirahim liked for his two ladies.

Tabatha(blue) got that name because Zant thought that she needed a weirdly grandma name that also radiates strength in his brain.

Bingus(white) was named like that because Zant thought it was hilarious. Bingus also looks like she knows her name is Bingus.

And yes, they are all in the same coop, which leads to interesting dynamics that Zant and Ghirahim speculate on outside of the game since they share a co-op farm.

Bingus velcros to Betsy if Zant is not around to hold her or let her follow him. Betsy is very casual and raises most of the ducks that are hatched, so Bingus is like a hapless coparent but she’s doing her best. Bertha herds everything, chases everything, bites everything except Betsy and the ducks. Bingus gets herded an awful lot, poor thing. And Tabatha gets bitten a lot by Bertha, though Bertha also behaves like a rather clingy lover to Tabatha during the winter for warmth. Bertha is not allowed to sit on eggs to hatch them because then she doesn’t let anyone approach the coop.

[young-botanical-genius]

"What is a fishy fellow like thee doing all of the way out of water, stuck within a human net, hmm? Thou shalt die if remaining upon land, shall thou not?"

As though he were quite literally a small fish, Bertha took the net — and, of course, the merman in it — up into her hands, sat down upon the crag overlooking the ocean, its tide now low, and began attempting to untangle him while humming a simple melody. Eventually, she started to speak, half to herself, and half to the merman — if, of course, he spoke the same tongue as did the local humans. (Or, as giants such as Bertha knew them, the little folk. What were merfolk but a different, but still little, folk?)

"Ohh, what have those vile little men been doing to thee? Hmm? What had they planned for thee in such ill, harm'd state?"

It would be only a few more moments of handiwork, and then — sploosh! Into the water the merman went, and beside Bertha the net was discarded. Bertha relaxed her shoulders, sat back, and watched the surface of the water curiously. Would the merman emerge and thank her, or swim off with narry a word?

This, shockingly enough, hadn't been the first time Seymour had found himself trapped inside a net.

It was, however, the first time that the merman had encountered a being as large as Bertha; much, much larger than any shark or even whale that could be found within the depths of the sea he called home. So naturally, he had been completely and utterly terrified upon first hearing-- and then seeing-- her approach.

To his horror, she had spotted him there, in his helpless and ensnared state upon the surface, and it had been at the exact moment they met eyes that he had decided to come to terms with the fact that this would be the end of his short and relatively uneventful little life because surely she was going to pick him up and eat him and swallow him in one gulp and then--

She did indeed pick him up, net and all, but then she was... helping him? He remained silent throughout the entire untangling process, feeling too stiff with fear to respond to any of her words. Her tone was jolly and brash, but also warm and perhaps even caring in a way that he hardly ever expected to hear from anyone, let alone a giant. And she wasn't talking about eating him. At least... he thought she wasn't?

Seymour didn't have too much time to think about what she was saying before he felt the net finally give way beneath him, and there was a rush of air around him and a loud splash before he found himself free and surrounded by the ocean once more.

He sucked in a deep breath, allowing the familiar salt water to pass through his gills as he was finally able to process what had just happened. His first instinct was to turn tail and swim back home, deep beneath the waves where the giant that still sat upon the shore couldn't possibly reach him.

But... said giant had just rescued him-- saved his life, even. Who knew how long he would've been struggling in that net if she hadn't arrived? Not to mention the fact that she had every opportunity to harm him, and she didn't. It would've been easier and far less risky to swim away from the situation, yes, but he held his tail steady, considering the gratitude he couldn't help but feel as a result of having been saved.

After a few more moments of internal conflict, that very feeling of gratitude won out over his fear, and he slowly rose up towards the surface, poking the top of his head out of the water to peer up curiously at the massive form that still loomed over the sea. His eyes met Bertha's once more, but he didn't yet speak a word, still unsure of whether further interaction with the giant was a good idea.

[c00kietin]

@ghosty-0w0 AND MANY MORE OF MY MOOTS AND FOLLOWERS!

EVEN IF YOU AREN'T A FOLLOWER OF MINE,

Settle down with me, dear friends, and let me tell you the tale of:

THE OWL WHO COULDN'T SLEEP by 7/8 year old me :D

HEADS UP! Fart jokes (I hate them) and I copied some concepts from other medias lol

And that is the end. :')

Alas, if you couldn't read my handwriting (which is perfectly understandable), I shall type it for you, errors and all:

Once there was a Lovley forest called Leafcottage. There lived cute animals that loved to climb and run aroud. One day, the animals and the birds came together for a great festival. There was a Owl there called Hoot Hoot. He Was at the candfloss stand. He just Can't resist the rainbow flavour. While he was about to sit down, A wasp called Rocko Was flying side to side on his chair. When Hoot Hoot was sitting down, He felt something.

"OOOOOOOCCCCCHHH!" Hoot Hoot shouted. Hoot Hoot jumped up so high he nearly went to space. "What's the raket!?" Glowie said. "Glowie, a million Pardons," Said Hoot Hoot. "But I did'nt toot," Glowie replied in a truthful way. "I don't mean that" Hoot Hoot said. (I forgot, Glowie is a Glow Worm). "What's the Big Bum!" Shouted Rocko. That nearly Made Hoot Hoot Jump.

"That hurt's really badly" cried Hoot-hoot. When they finished the talk, it was soon Midnight. They Saw two glowing eyes. It was Claws the tiger. "You should be in Bed!" she shouted. They stomped away (exept Hoot-Hoot, He flew away). When He saw the Sign "Home Sweet Home", He karate-kicked it. "Silly Rocko, little eejit!" He thought.

Now this time, Since He was So angry, He Did'nt have any Dinner! Hoot-Hoot Stomped up the stiars Moodly. He farted so loud that the Whole town Smelled it too! [I cringed while typing that sentence] "Pooh ee!" Bertha the Bat Said. She flew over and shouted: CAN YOU STOP FARTING! (it is in Big capital letters Because she shouted). Hoot-Hoot did not listen, But stopped.

Talking in picture: "OMG He smells!" "Eww!" "Pee ew!" "That is even smellyier than me!"

"You need to sleep" Bertha said. "But I Just can't, There are Cupcake Wasp's flying around my Head." Oh No!

Talking in picture: "OMG means "Oh my God" cool right?"

"Like that one?" asked Bertha. "Yeah" answerd Hoot-Hoot. So Bertha Called a Yoga teacher, Mr M (Moose) and Music Players. "This Will ease your pain and calm you down" Mr Moose said.

"Ok!" Hoot-Hoot yawned, He farted agian. Claws watched. Oh no!

Talking in picture: "t-shirts can Be any colour. cool right?"

No! Lets go back to the story. "So where are we?" asked Hoot-hoot. "in the garden of William shakeshpere" Mr moose replied. "Hey, I was weeing here!!" A dog said. "forget him." Mr Moose said. The sun rose shine at dawn. Mr Moose had enough. He had a can of Beans. But they Were evil Beans. this is what they siad: Evil Beans: "Mwa Ha Ha!" Cupcake Wasp: "these are scary! Cool right?"

"I quit," A music player said. then everyone Did. Exept Bertha and Claw's. "Wait, you can say sorry!" said Claws. Hoot-Hoot heard every single Word she said. "Do not even think about singing a song!" he laghed. They went to Rocko's home. They knocked quietly. Rocko came out, Holding a cup of tea.

"You disturbed my Episode 159, but yes?" Rocko asked. "Well, I'm sorry that I was angry" Hoot-Hoot replied. "I fixed up your sign" said Roko. "YaY!" Hoot-Hoot said. Soon they were frenids. What about Glowie? He's on Mount Everest.

The End!

[flowers-for-the-grave]

Morning Sunshine, Evening Moonlight

Scott blinked back at the tears. He couldn't risk it now. He was meant to be one of the strongest witches in the competition! The Necromantic Witch! Every one of his competitors either feared him, was stupid enough to make him an enemy, or was an ally. Most feared him. He had taglocks of everyone. Nobody was safe from a curse. Not even Bertha, the...weird being that Scott didn't quite understand.

Case in point, Scott was meant to be powerful. Crying was a sign of weakness. He couldn't afford to be weak.

That wouldn't bring Milo back.

So he wiped his eyes and continued on. He flicked through the Book of Shadows, analysing every word of every line until he understood the ritual perfectly and could do it blindfolded. The chalk on the ground was right. He had the right ingredients. He even had a sacrifice like the book said!

Taking a deep breath, Scott began the ritual.

---

None of the other witches had heard a peep from Scott in a bit. No curses, no pranks, nothing. He hadn't tried scaring Bertha, he wasn't on some sort of journey to collect ingredients or spells. Nobody knew where he was.

Cleo paced back and forth at Spawn. She gesticulated wildly to Bertha as she ranted on end. Scott had said he'd meet her there ages ago. He hadn't turned up.

"What if something bad happened to him? He's my ally! Not to mention he's not...mentally stable," Cleo shook her head. "No I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he's just resting?"

"Scott doesn't have a bed," Bertha helpfully supplied. "He doesn't sleep anymore after Joey and Pris tried getting his taglock."

"Oh. Right." Cleo mentally screamed. She was no closer to discerning where Scott was than before!

"But we could take a look at his base," Bertha suggested, gesturing at the Waystone in the centre of Spawn. "Maybe he's there?" Cleo frowned, but, seeing no other option, complied.

The two stepped up to the Waystone and teleported to Scott's house.

---

Scott's home was silent. Usually there was at least some small semblance of noise. But not anymore. Instead it was just uncomfortably silent. Suffocatingly so.

Bertha cautiously tread on the decayed ground as if it would catch fire at any second. Cleo's brows furrowed. The decay was pretty bad. It stretched incredibly far, almost halfway to the lake. Had Scott's magic caused this?

As the two of them looked around, a chalk circle caught their eyes. In the centre of it stood a figure hidden behind sinister black, gold and crimson robes. A hood was pulled over their head, but Cleo could easily guess that it was Scott. By the look of it, he was performing some kind of ritual.

"Scott?" She said, slowly approaching the chalk circle. In between the red and purple chalk were thin lines of salt. Odd. Scott stood, unmoving and unattentive. There was a swirl of shadows and darkness at his feet, growing and growing. Shadowy tendrils shot out of the depths, sapping the life out of the world around it. The decay on the ground groaned and spread, edging closer and closer to the lake.

"Scott." Bertha's voice was loud and firm, unlike what cleo had heard before. It sounded more...ethereal. Less human and more like an entity of some sort. "Stop this." But Scott didn't seem to be listening.

"I'm gonna try something, but I think I'll need your help." Cleo held out her hand to Bertha, and they readily took it.

She drew nearer and nearer to the chalk circle. With a sharp breath, Cleo stepped over the lines of chalk and salt, careful not to accidentally disturb them. Breaking the ritual could have dire consequences. She reached out and took hold of Scott's hand. Bertha gasped and uttered something.

Before she could blink, Cleo was no longer at Scott's house.

---

He was home. Home with Milo and Maxwell. Home with his family. No more disasters. No more magic. No more death. Instead, he was sat at the table with Milo, both of them happily eating and talking. In his mind, it was like nothing had ever happened. Perhaps none of it had been real. Maybe he'd just been living a nightmare and only just woke up to his actual reality.

Whatever the case, Scott had missed this.

"I love you," he blurted out. "I-I really love you."

"I should hope so," Milo replied with a gentle laugh. He took Scott's hand. "After all, we are living together. How would Maxwell cope?"

"Shared custody?" Scott joked. The duo grinned in the way they only did for each other and burst out in pure, unadultered laughter.

He could almost believe it was real.

The main giveaway was the decay on his hands. The blackened skin that flickered in and out of existence. A reminder. In the corner of his eye, Scott could see the outlines of two figures reaching out for him and calling his name. He shook his head. This was his moment. This was his time to lose himself and believe that Milo was still alive.

"Scott!" The voices called out. They were incredibly distinct, and he knew them well. Cleo and Bertha. It could be no one else.

"Sunshine? Are you alright?" Milo asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Scott leaned over and kissed Milo on the forehead. "Just...tired, I think."

"Do you wanna go up to bed now? I can clean up." Milo offered with a smile.

"O-ok. Love you." With a quick kiss on the lips, Scott stood up from the table and left.

"Scott, please," Cleo's voice begged. And Scott could see her now. He could see her hand wrapped around his own. "You need to stop. The decay, i-it's spreading. It's hurting you Scott!"

"But-...I'm finally back! With him!" Scott argued. His voice wavered, and tears pricked his eyes. "I-I can finally be happy again! I can live my life here, with him. I've tried to bring him back for so long. Do you know, Cleo? Do you know how long I've tried? Take a guess! Take a guess goddamnit, and tell me how long you think I've tried! Go on! Please!" Scott felt the tears falling down his cheeks. Cleo's hand wiped them away. Bertha stood beside him, their hand resting on his shoulder.

"Neither of us can imagine. But you need to come back. There's another way. Scott, come back." Bertha's eyes glowed with tender sympathy.

"I can't!" Scott pulled away. "I-I can't live without him."

"Yes you can. Please Scott." Cleo wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

The world around them fell apart.

---

They were back. Back at Scott's house. Only now, the Necromantic Witch was crying, weeping and wailing, clinging onto Cleo and Bertha for support. They feebly clung onto him, rubbing up and down his back and waiting for him to calm down.

Neither had intended to do this. But they did.

"I'm sorry," Scott hiccuped, his eyes puffy and voice hoarse. "I-I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry about it." Bertha responded. "Besides, if it works, I can find a better way to bring back, uhh..."

"Milo."

"Yes, Milo." Bertha snapped their fingers in remembrance when Scott said the name.

"Sure?"

"Incredibly so."

"Okay." Scott smiled at both of them.

Those few seconds with Milo were worth it. Milo may not like what Scott's become, but that wouldn't stop him.

Nothing would.

[hannahhook7744]

Blood Is Thicker Than Water;

Summary: Everyone knows about Carlos, Diego, Ivy, and Hunter de Vil. But what about the other de Vil cousins? Co written with @dragoneyes618 . Please use clean language when commenting on this fic. Author's Note: The five that go to Auradon are: 1. Carlos de Vil. 2. Mal Bertha Fae-Athanasiou. 3. Princess Geneviève ‘Evie’ Evelyn Grimhilde-Westergaard Of The Southern Isles. 4. Jakeem 'Jay' Al-Jazira. 5. Hannah Artemis Hook. Trigger warnings: Child death, horrible isle conditions, child abuse/neglect, murder, extreme untreated mental health issues, briefly implied cannibalism, etc.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hunter was eleven years older than Carlos and the oldest of the de Vil ‘kids’. 

Yet he was the one Carlos related to the most.

They were both the ‘quiet’ de Vils; the nervous wreck de Vils who were less intimidating than a wet paper bag. 

Both of them were the most well known inventors in the family and the ones who found it the hardest to relate to others. Both were claustrophobic (because of Cruella) and both were well-known animal lovers, and barely tried to hide it. 

They were also the de Vils most scared of Cruella.  

The two of them just clicked better together than they did with the rest of their cousins (and siblings, in Carlos’s case). Not to say they didn't like their other cousins, of course. 

They just enjoyed each other's company more. 

It had always been that way. 

------------------------------------------------------------

“Book!”

Fourteen year old Hunter sighed, looking up from the radio he was tinkering with and over to the doorway where Carlos was standing tall (well, as tall as a three year old who was barely taller than his one-year old brother could). A determined look on his little face as he struggled to hold up a large book. 

Carlisle was supposed to have put him to bed hours ago. 

The blonde didn't know why he was surprised that the other boy (who was also his age now, wasn't that weird?) didn't. 

Carlisle never did anything anyone other than his mom (and sometimes his siblings) asked him to do because he knew he was Cruella’s favorite and that he wouldn't be getting in trouble for disobeying whoever was in charge. Even if it was Cruella he was disobeying.

Hunter should have known he was asking too much of him when he asked him to put Carlos to bed. That he was taking up ‘dear’ Carlisle’s precious fireworks time by asking him to do what Cruella should have been doing anyway. 

And knowing him, he hadn't put Remi or any of the others to bed, either. 

Great. 

Just great. 

Cruella was gonna kill him. Again. 

“The Tales of Flynnigan Rider again?” Hunter silently promised himself that he'd strangle whoever wrote the stupid book he'd had to read  a million times to his younger cousins and the various kids the de Vil’s various henchmen had had, over the years. 

He was sure he'd never hate any more than he did the book, except for Cruella, of course.

Carlos shook his head. Tapping the book’s cover with the palm of his hand. “Nu-uh! M-mech-an-ics and… and.. mech-a-tisms!” 

It was gonna be a long night. 

------------------------------------------------------------

As terrible as it sounded, Carlos hadn't always liked Ivy. 

She was loud and scary at times, bossy and demanding and an all around terror who never hesitated to get into screaming matches with Carlos’s mom. 

Carlos's mom, who terrified him (and some others) more than anything and because of that, Ivy also terrified him. 

She just looked so much like Cruella.

Sure, Ivy had never been violent towards him like his mom had in the past. But she just reminded him of Cruella so painfully that he couldn't help but be scared and run for the hills. 

Her forcing him to play dress up with her in his earliest memories hadn't helped that fear or helped quell the disdain he'd had for her in his youth.

It was a secret that wasn't a secret. 

At one point, Carlos had been sure that no one but him knew that he was afraid of her. Convinced that he'd be able to take that with him to the grave. And then he'd remembered all the hurt looks he'd caught glimpses of on Ivy's face when he'd been so small and so bad at lying and so desperate to avoid spending any time with her—and realized that Ivy, and probably others, had known all along that Carlos hadn't liked Ivy. 

It had changed over the years, of course, when their numbers had started dwindling alongside the Baduns but it wasn't something that could be easily forgotten. It stayed unspoken but it had definitely left a nasty looking spot on their relationship.

Even if they now could talk and laugh with one another over their inventions and outfit designs; Ivy would never forget that Carlos had been afraid of her.

------------------------------------------------------------

Carlos cried a lot as a baby; cried and cried until he couldn't anymore. Until he was red in the face and couldn't breath. 

He cried. 

And he'd cry worse when Ivy tried to soothe him. 

Kicking and flailing and choking until Hunter or one of the other de Vil (or henchmen) kids came to get him away from her. 

Carlisle thought it was funny. 

Ivy didn't. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Hunter and Ivy told Carlos separately. 

Some parts were easier for one of them to say than others. So they took turns.

“You’re going to Auradon, you should know this,” was the explanation, like Carlos wouldn’t be running off to talk to Diego the first chance he got.

If he had time, that was. 

Enough time before he left.

It made sense. 

It explained the nightmares both Hunter and Ivy had; they’d both woken up screaming too many times to deny it. It explained why their birth dates didn’t quite match up to their exact ages.

 It explained the strange, almost otherworldly feel they had sometimes, a feeling they shared with all those who had been brought back from the dead prior to being imprisoned on the Isle, but that no other members of their generation—not Carlos’ generation, but the generation older than him, the one consisting of the children who had been exiled to the Isle with their parents—shared.

Ivy had been dead. 

Hunter had been dead.

Two more of the people who had helped him build his tree house as a child had been dead.

Ivy had been six. Hunter had been twelve, just a couple of years younger than he was now.

They’d been resurrected and sent to the Isle, just like everyone else. 

What would it have been like? To be dead, cold and lifeless, childhood and life abruptly cut short, only to be thrust gasping and breathless into the world of the living years later, at the exact age you were when you had died?

“Do you…remember anything?” was the first question Carlos asked after Ivy finished, both of them sitting with their legs dangling off the edge of the roof.

“Not really,” Ivy said, and then sighed. “Sort of. It’s complicated. I can’t really explain it….Hunter’s the same way.”

She moved her hand in a vague, all–encompassing gesture. “Like I remember—sort of—shadowy shapes, but not anything clear. Strange lights. Colors that don’t exist. Sometimes I dream about it, but I can’t remember it when I wake up. I remember best when I’m half awake, or just about to fall asleep. If I try to remember more, if I think really hard about it, it’s like…it’s like I’m not supposed to remember more. Like there’s this—this barrier, I guess, stuck in my head, and if I ever got past it it would be….”

“Bad,” Carlos supplied.

“Yes.” She looked lost for a moment. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew more…well, sometimes I wish I knew more. I know it’s not what you wanted. I can’t tell you anything about what it’s like for them.”

Like all of his cousins, Ivy knew him better than anyone else did. The de Vils were very good at reading each other, at seeing what they didn’t say, knowing each other’s history and body language, the way they thought, the way they dreamed… 

Them . 

Both of Carlos’ sisters, each of them bearing the same name, neither of them ever knowing the other.

Carlotta.

Lotta , he’d called both of them. While their family generally didn’t do nicknames—at least, he’d never known anyone except his mother and P.H to allow themselves to be called by one—he’d called his sisters ‘Lotta’.

According to Ivy, in a much different heart-to-heart years ago, another rare occasion she’d opened up, when he’d been learning to talk he couldn’t fully pronounce his older sister’s name. He’d been able to manage Lotta, but not Carlotta. And so he’d called her Lotta.

She’d been three years older than him, and he never remembered being alone.

She’d always been there for him. She’d been the one to look after him, much more than their mother had been, and they’d both preferred it that way. Most of his early memories consisted of him following her around wherever she went.

He’d adored her.

She was gone when he was seven. He came home one day and she had vanished. 

Asking his mother yielded no answers, even when it was Hunter or Cecil. There had been no sign of her. To this day, there still had not been.

She was dead. 

She must be.

Carlos knew it in his bones.

While it wasn’t unheard of, on the Isle, for children as young as she’d been—she’d always seemed so mature and capable in his eyes, and it was always with a small shock whenever he realized that he was now several years older than she’d ever been—or even as young as Carlos had been to run away, or to be left orphaned, to be homeless and alone, she wouldn’t have left without him.

 She wouldn’t have left him alone. Even if the others had refused to go (but they wouldn't have. None of the living ones would have refused to leave, even Diego with the parents he'd loved so much. Even the Baduns would have gone if she'd asked, which she never did because she didn't run away— ). 

There were many ways for people to disappear on the Isle. Half of them would barely even need any sort of special effort.

People who disappeared on the Isle, with a few rare exceptions, were generally never found again. Not alive, at least. If you ever got lost—well, if you weren’t found again after a few hours you’d be lucky if your body was.

Especially with the witches on Cannibal Cove around. 

Carlotta had been one of those who was never found. There’d been no signs, no traces. No body, no blood, no footprints, nothing. It was like she’d ceased to exist…..at least, his mother pretended so.

His little sister had been born eight months later—the second Carlotta.

Mother hadn’t bothered taking care of the baby. She’d barely ever noticed her. It had been Carlos at the age of eight who had scrounged and searched for milk and formula, Carlos who had woken up every time she cried, Carlos who had named her.

( Just like his cousins and siblings before him, when adults weren't capable of doing so for him and the others). 

He’d named her Carlotta, the only name he could think of, the name of the sister whose presence was always on his mind, whom he desperately missed.

She’d been such a sweet little girl.

She’d been very quiet, of course, in a way that growing up with Cruella as your mother warranted, quieter even than him. Which was funny, in a way, because his older sister had never seemed meek or quiet to him. He had a vivid memory of her standing on her tiptoe while she and Ivy shouted at each other…about what, he’d forgotten, and he wasn’t going to ask Ivy.

But maybe it was the way of older siblings to go out of their comfort zones for their younger siblings. He certainly had for little Lotta. Would she have remembered him as he thought of himself —shy and timid? Or as someone who spoke up for her when it was needed, who shielded her from the worst Mother and the Isle had to offer?

He hoped the latter.

Then again, it wasn’t like he’d actually been able to do anything for her when it mattered, had he?

She’d always been in delicate health. She was small for her age, just like him. Oh, she was healthy, and could run and jump and clap like he imagined carefree Auradon children doing. But she was susceptible to illness, always came down with every little cough and sniffle that made its way around. He’d spent many nights awake at her bedside, trying to cool a fever or get her to drink as she shivered, wracked by chills.

It hadn’t been sickness that had killed her last year, but it certainly hadn’t helped.

When he was twelve years old, he’d gotten his leg caught in one of Mother’s bear traps. He still had a slight limp. Carlotta, four years old, had run to get Hunter and Ivy. As he lay in bed recovering —the week following was the only time he remembered ever being exempt from his mother’s long list of chores—he’d heard his uncle Cecil shouting at his mother—his only memory of Cecil ever raising his voice—that those traps were going to get someone killed one day.

Well, he’d been right. Twice. 

He’d been able to survive the pain, the shock, the blood loss, even the infection. A little girl like his sister (and a little boy like Joseph Badun)? Not so much.

The house now reminded him of the months after his older sister’s death—eerily silent, Mother’s unhinged laughter echoing from the corners, ghostly visions of long hair and dark eyes in the shadows. Seeing her everywhere and nowhere, because she was gone. Gone, to that place Ivy and Hunter had been in.

Ivy and Hunter were alive again. None of his siblings or the Badun kids (or the various other children of his mother’s henchmen who'd died in those very halls or this dratted Isle) had been given the same courtesy.

Carlisle and the twins hadn’t been given the same courtesy. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Carlos remembered Carlisle better than he remembered the twins, but that wasn’t saying much given the fact the three of them had died within a year of one another. 

He remembered his silverish-gray hair, his unnaturally blue eyes,  and his maniacal smile. 

Remembered his laugh that sounded hauntingly similar to their mother’s laugh.

He also remembered how much of a mama’s boy his brother was—and Carlos’s own jealousy that he hadn’t even been able to name at the time at how much more their mother had loved him and the twins when she loved him and the others all so little. 

He knew that when he was five, he had hated the older boy—had hated him so much that he went out of his way to make things difficult for him just so that he could spend more time with Hunter. Made things difficult when Carlisle hadn’t really deserved it.

All because Carlos had been jealous of how much better off he was. 

It was stupid, in hindsight. Carlos knew that. 

Carlisle had only been fourteen when he died— had only been the age Carlos was now .  

It wasn’t his fault that he sounded and acted like their mother (to a much more dialed down degree). It wasn’t his fault that he found fireworks and explosives entertaining more than the rest of them did. It wasn’t Carlisle’s fault that he’d outlived both of the twins.

It wasn’t his fault: he was just a messed up kid with no friends who’d never known any different than the horror that was their family.

But of course, it had taken Carlos nine years too late to realize that. 

Because all his five year old self had seen was a warped reflection of the scary mother who didn’t love the rest of them enough instead of his big brother who did his best to bond with Carlos, Carlotta, Remi, and the others. 

Even after Carlise had died—having bled out after trying to show off how cool his new fireworks were to a girl he’d had a crush on; only for the firework to explode in his hand. 

Carlos still had nightmares where Carlise lay bleeding out, screaming for their mother who did her best for once to help as she cried and cried—cried harder than she had when both of the twins had died because the last child she truly fully loved was gone. 

She hadn’t cried for either of the Carlottas.

(And deep down, Carlos knew that if he or Remi joined them tomorrow she wouldn't cry then either).

------------------------------------------------------------

Conway and Codias both had heads full of curly red hair that no one was quite sure the origin of, freckles, big brown eyes, and missing teeth in different places from all the roughhousing they did with one another and Carlise. 

They’d both been only nine when they died. 

And Carlos had liked them both well enough. 

At least, Carlos thought he did—he couldn’t really remember them all that well.

He vaguely remembered Conway trying to teach him how to draw as he poured them both a glass of the blue ink he loved to drink so much only to cry when he got sick from drinking it and remembered even more vaguely Carlise screaming at Codias until he cried because he accidentally broke Carlos’s arm when playing with him. 

Hunter said Conway was the shy twin and that he didn’t like to leave Cruella, Carlisle, or Codias’s side for longer than he had to when outside—and that he had been so excited when Carlos was born and was the reason that Cruella even bothered making both Carlos and Remi baby blankets. 

Diego said that Conway was good at much more than just drawing and that he was just good at artsy things in general; except music of course, because he was just as tone deaf as Hunter and Ivy were.

And all Ivy had to say about Conway was that he was an idiot for drinking ink till he died just because he liked the way blue ink tasted. 

(And later, when she cooled down, she’d tell Carlos how much Conway had liked the color blue).

Carlotta claimed that Codias had liked to be called ‘Cody’ and had only let their mother call him his actual name.

Uncle Cecil, in the rare moments where he was open to questions about the siblings and relatives Carlos didn’t remember, would quietly remind him of the wooden plane that Cody had carried around. A plane Carlise had  apparently made for him (he apparently made the wooden toy tools Carlos had played with years after his death, too).

Ivy called Cody stupid and reckless, saying that the broken arm Carlos remembered getting wasn’t the only time the redhead had accidentally hurt him.

Hunter grimly noted that the swing that had eventually plunged Cody into the cold, icy waters and jagged rocks that killed him had been the one that little Cody had tried to push a one or two year old Carlos on as an attempt to bond. 

But Carlos couldn’t confirm or deny any of it. 

Because he didn’t remember and their little brother, Remi, wouldn’t either.

------------------------------------------------------------

And now it was just him and Remi. The only surviving children of Cruella de Vil. And it was him ( not his little brother who he may never see again after this) , the one chosen, out of all of their cousins, out of everyone on the Isle, to be one of the five to go to Auradon.

Lucky him, right?

------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure you aren’t mad?” Carlos asked his brother for what had to be the third time that hour as he packed what little belongings he had. 

He could barely meet his brother’s eye. 

He hadn’t even gotten to tell Remi that he was leaving for Auradon himself—no, Remi had found out from his friend Hannah who was also being forced to go to Auradon with Carlos and the others on Maleficent’s orders.

The inventor knew that his little brother had to be mad at him.

He’d be mad, in his shoes. 

Remi huffed, plopping down on the ground dangerously close to one of their mother’s bear traps without even a hint of fear (Carlos couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of what had happened to the last two children other than him and Evie who’d been close to those traps). “For the last time, I’m not mad at you—but I will be sending you down to Davy Jones’ locker if you keep asking if I am.”

“Dude, I don’t speak pirate—”

“You can speak dog —when you’re terrified of them—but you can’t pick up simple pirate lingo that I’ve been speaking since I was six?”

“It doesn’t make any sense!”

“It makes perfect sense!”

“It’s a locker underneath the ocean! Pretty self-explanatory as to how someone would end up there!”

“It doesn’t even exist!”

“Whatever.” Remi rolled his eyes. “I said, no, I’m not mad at you. You’re getting out of here, why should I be mad at you? Just get us off, too, once you’re out there. Don’t forget about us.”

Don’t forget about us.

Carlotta and Carlotta. Carlisle. Codias. Conway.  Ivy and Hunter and Diego and Remi. All of them. Every one of them. Carlos could visualize the faces of each of them, even if it had been a decade since his eyes had seen their faces, that they had breathed.

His family . All of them, all the de Vils. Together. What was left of them, anyway.

“I won’t,” Carlos vowed softly. “I would never.”

------------------------------------------------------------

His first night in Auradon, Carlos popped in the only pair of earbuds he'd ever seen on the Isle and listened to The Bad Apples on the old, cruddy MVP player his cousins and brother had quickly fixed up for him as a going away present. 

Listening to every single song on repeat until he finally managed to fall asleep with tears in his eyes. 

Missing his long-gone siblings. 

Missing Remi, the only one left alive.

Missing Hunter and Ivy and Diego . 

Diego, who had grabbed all of his bandmates to record all of their songs just so that he could hear them whenever he wanted to. Just so that he wouldn't feel as scared and alone as any one would in his situation.

Diego, who Carlos hadn't even always been sure liked him all that much. 

Did that just for him. 

It even made Carlos enjoy his cousin's music for the first time in his life. 

(Diego)

“The Beast will take off with your dreams,

And shatter them in the night.

Rip your heart apart at the seams,

He's nothing more than a blight–”

(Harriet, Claudine, and Ginny as Chorus)

“–A BLIGHT ON OUR LIVES,

Gotta fight to survive—”

Even if it was a bit cringey. 

( “Oh shut up, Carlos, my music’s not cringey you just have no taste—”

"Just keep telling yourself that."

"You're the only one who doesn't like The Bad Apples" ).

------------------------------------------------------------

Carlos wasn’t quite as surprised as he thought he perhaps ought to be when he found out he had family in Auradon.

Plenty of people on the Isle had family in Auradon, after all. Most of the de Vils had been sent to the Isle, but there were a few who hadn’t been, distant cousins and the odd long-lost uncle. They were bound to be out in Auradon somewhere.

No. His surprise was, when he finally found out about them and met them, that he actually had already known them. Or one of them, anyway.

His mother had a brother Carlos had only heard about from Cecil’s occasional mentions (one he was much more willing to talk about than the one who had been on the isle with them, once upon a time, Cristin de Vil), Divus. Some time after the rest of the de Vils had been banished to the Isle, Divus had married a perfectly ordinary woman named Eleanor who was not connected with any villainous or heroic families in any way. The two of them had one son, a little boy of about seven named Henry.

Carlos had met Henry. Last year, during the schoolwide scavenger hunt. He and Jane had stumbled upon a lost little boy who had been separated from his mother on a trip to Auradon City, and had helped him find her.

To Carlos’ surprise, Henry had known who he was, and had been shocked—awed—to actually meet him.

Carlos usually forgot that he and his friends were kind of famous. The Isle was small enough that everybody knew everybody at least by face, and he and his friends rarely ventured out of Auradon Prep. But everywhere else?

Well, the decision to bring over several VKs to Auradon had made national news. Their arrival had been televised. So had the coronation. So had Cotillion. At this point, it was safe to say that Carlos and the others were probably recognizable on sight anywhere in Auradon.

And, to his own shock, it turned out that they had fans. Carlos, at least. One fan in particular.

It turned out that Henry had idolized him before even meeting him. Which felt weird . Was this what it was like to be Ben, multiplied by a couple million?

Henry also liked to tinker with machines and electronics and figure out how things worked and come up with new ideas, just like Carlos. It was like meeting a miniature version of him, minus the black in his hair. The kid actually had white hair, unlike any other Auradonian child Carlos had seen.

(“It was actually black-and-white, like normal— normal for de Vils, I mean,” his uncle Divus would tell Carlos later, his own black-and-white hair safely disguised by the grey streaks in it and the lines on his face. “We dyed it black for a while, but around the time he turned six he started driving us crazy to have it white instead, and eventually we gave in. If he couldn’t have it black-and-white he wanted it white, at least, so it could be like the kid’s he saw on TV. You.”)

(The relatives of villains sent to the Isle, even though they’d been lucky enough to escape banishment themselves, were often treated less than kindly in Auradon due to the actions of their relatives. There was a reason Divus hadn’t reached out to Carlos until now, a reason he’d dyed his son’s telltale hair even as an infant.)

Carlos and his friends had helped Henry find his mother—his aunt, Carlos now knew—and Carlos remembered watching Henry and his mother hug each other, both of them crying tears of worry, relief, joy, and he had thought that he had never, ever been as excited to see each other as Henry was. That his mother had never been as worried about him as Henry’s mother had been over her son disappearing for half an hour.

In that moment, in that image of a relieved mother and son uniting in joyful embrace, Carlos had glimpsed something he could never have, and had turned away quickly, leaving his girlfriend to explain to Henry’s mother how they’d found him.

He’d wallowed in self-pity for a while, the look on Henry’s tear-streaked, beaming face as he looked up at his mother like she’d hung the stars in the sky haunting him. 

Carlos had never looked at his mother like that. From his earliest memories, Cruella was something to be feared and avoided and obeyed unless you were Carlisle and the twins. 

It took him a while to realize he was jealous. Jealous of Henry. Jealous of Ben and Lonnie and Jane. Jealous of every kid in Auradon interacting with their parents that he’d ever seen. Jealous that they had something the Isle had robbed him of, him and every VK he knew, for even those villain parents who did care a whit about their children never showed it in the free, easy way affection was given in Auradon ( because they couldn't on the isle—showing you cared just painted a target on your loved one's backs and made you look weak—) .

Then he found out that Henry was actually his cousin. Divus was his uncle, Eleanor was his aunt by marriage, and little Henry was as much of a cousin to him as Ivy and Diego were, the youngest de Vil.

All Carlos could think of as he sat through that first, awkward meeting with his newfound family members was how normal they were. How, well, Auradonlike, but in a good way.

They took him out to an eatery in the city that the Auradon students often frequented, the Mad for Tea Caf é .  Carlos didn’t eat much. He mostly just watched them. Occasionally Ally, who worked there after school as her parents ran the place, would appear over his shoulder to refill his tea cup, give him an encouraging wink, and boop Henry on the nose.

 They—Carlos couldn’t help but think of them as the Auradonian De Vils— talked. They laughed. They occasionally made an effort to include him in the conversation, but not too often, so it didn’t feel like an interrogation, not like when the well-meaning Anita and Roger Radcliffe had met him; this allowed him to sit quietly and observe them, how they moved, how they acted. Eleanor sometimes chastised Henry for acting too wild or reminded him to “use your fork” or “chew with your mouth closed,” but she never smacked or shouted. They all seemed at ease sitting close to each other and occasionally touching each other, none of them clinging to each other or, conversely, sitting stiff and still to ensure not touching each other, both actions being what characterized every de Vil family meeting Carlos had ever been in, even the ones consisting only of himself and all his cousins.

They acted like other Auradon families Carlos had seen. How Jane and her mother talked. How Lonnie and her brother sat next to each other by lunch. How Audrey and Ariana gossipped in the halls, how Arabella and her cousins all did their homework together in the common room while draped over each other in a big pile.

Divus and Henry and Eleanor acted normal .

And Carlos realized he was completely, inexpressibly glad , glad that little Henry was growing up with parents who were just like Auradon parents, glad that this little branch of the de Vils seemed somehow to have escaped the curse of madness and grief that inexorably ruined all their lives, glad that Henry would grow up happy and free and safe and as unlike the lives of the other de Vils as he could get.

Little Henry would walk a path of light and happiness, unlike the warped, shadowy path that the rest of them followed through life. At least one member of the de Vils could get a happy life. If it couldn’t be Carlos, if it couldn’t be his older sister or his younger sister or Remi or Diego or any of them, at least Henry could be carefree.

A real child.

A normal child.

A normal life.

[electricbluebutterflies]

georgebertha & “Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…” if you’d like

PG13-ish (nothing Happens but there are some implications and daydreams) and also on ao3.

She gets what she wants.

Rarely as fast as she wants it, fine, rarely with all the bows attached, but her refusal to admit defeat or develop anything legitimately resembling patience has worked out for her well enough, and-

Bertha knows how many people will have their eyes on her tonight, how important it is that she be perceived a certain way, and she still only cares what one person thinks.

She is good at everything she is, she reminds herself, and she is not as self-absorbed as accusations would assume. These maneuverings, this pretending she actually wants social status for the sake of wanting it, the things she does because she does not want her children to…

The less anyone else knows about her motivations, the better. If she is ambitious and serpentine, clearly it doesn’t run in the family, clearly-

She burns bright and fast, and it is not improper to approach her husband, to need that proximity. He knows her signals and she won’t be surprised if he makes some excuse to get them out of here a little earlier than planned – it’ll look better if he does it, they both know that, and-

She feels the way he looks at her, the deep abiding affection of it. She does what she wants and there have been no guidelines set, but she does know what colors he likes her in and she has developed her preferences accordingly, ice blue and wine red and tonight a midnight-sky purple gown that fits too well and she knows there will be rumors about it and-

She is one of the few happily married women on their level. She might as well act like it sometimes.

She feels what is not said as she moves close enough to touch and does not, as he ends a conversation and turns closer to her and-

“The things I would do to you if we were alone right now,” he murmurs just loud enough for her to hear.

Goal achieved.

Bertha has not blushed in years, thank you, but she does appreciate moments of directness, and she needs motivation, and-

“What should I expect later?”

“I may not have the patience to get you out of that dress.”

Well. That is a direction she didn’t have before. Low odds they’ll make it to her bedroom either, she’ll end up perched on a table maybe, maybe-

“We have never been patient, darling. And if I were to want some fresh air…”

“Wouldn’t give us enough time, and I intend to ruin your hair, and-“

She sighs, a content smile on her lips, more ideas forming, more-

“You’re planning something. I like it.”

“Not a plan, just the idea of you on that rug…”

“With my hair undone-“

“With all of you undone.”

She can fill in the rest easily enough. How focused and attentive he can be, the overwhelming pleasure he’ll make sure she has, and-

“Do you think it’s fair to make me want you that much and have to wait?”

“Only as much as I have to look at you and that neckline…”

“I do have to motivate you somehow,” she laughs.

“What would I do without you?”

“Drown. Or worse, be stuck in-“

“Worse, definitely.”

She slips away just as fluidly as she had approached, still aware of his eyes on her. She still has insipid conversations to overhear if not insert herself in, the unpleasant requirements of her rise, but after this…

She knows how her night will end and how delighted she will be by that point. Can any of these other women say the same?

[sentenceme-leni]

Wednesday. Minimum 3 sentences.

---

Belle called up a smile when she recognized the man standing in wait at the bookstore door. In her time as Rumpelstiltskin's companion, she had met several of the more important tradesmen in the Dark Mountains both out of necessity and in the odd social occasion she convinced Rumpelstiltskin to attend.

The seamstress and her husband were among those Belle met more often, after she won the argument for everyday dresses that weren't thrown together with magicked cloth and a stitching spell.

Her compromise had been to allow Rumpelstiltskin free reign on her ball gowns.

(The man had good taste, after all, if loud and showy. Belle always enjoyed the result on the mirror, and, well... Wouldn't it have been a shame not to allow his power that harmless outlet?)

"Master Frank," she greeted the man, offering a hand.

He looked at it with obvious hesitation. The curse had ingrained in all of them the manners of Maine culture, but there were several who hesitated acting on it.

He did take the hand, but quickly bowed over it to kiss the air over her knuckles.

Belle fixed her smile, but inwardly groaned. A bookstore owner didn't get this gallantry. The Dark One's maid, however, when called upon by an inhabitant of the mountains that surrounded the Dark Castle, was treated like an ambassador between the people and the power none else would dare interrupt with small matters.

"Madam," said the seamstress' husband, "I've come to beg for your time and patience..."

"Of course," she agreed at once. The better to get it over with. "Please come in," she said as she unlocked the door, "We can talk at my desk."

He smiled in obvious relief, following after her. Once seated, he refused the offer of a beverage.

"How may I help you?"

He fidgeted a little before taking a deep breath. "We heard... My wife and I, I mean. Is it true there is a way back to our world?"

Belle bit her lip. Of course the rumor had started as soon as they had arrived back in the world "without" magic. The whole of Storybrooke was now as obsessed with portals as Rumpelstiltskin had once been. "Not as such," she told him gently. "There was an open portal, and it did lead to the Enchanted Forest. But we have reason to believe no one would survive long after arrival... Not that there's much left of the world we knew." She saw him pale and too late regretted including that last tidbit. "We are working on it, of course, but..." She shrugged. "It's still a work in progress."

His face fell further.

"Are you having difficulties in Storybrooke, Frank?" she asked, worried now.

These people were not under the Dark Castle's purview anymore, but Belle felt a bit of an obligation anyway. While Rumpelstiltskin had plotted, Regina grew bitter, and Belle herself had struggled to believe in happy endings, the common people had been betrayed out of their very homes.

Thankfully, Frank shook his head. "Not as such, no. Of course I wouldn't come to you to complain, m'lady!" he rushed to reassure her. "Our house is grand enough for us and the littles. And the amenities! This world is truly a wonder." He sighed, though. "We just thought... My wife and I, I mean. If we could reach our lands, perhaps we could get some decent fabric for our work..."

Belle blinked. "Fabric?"

"Exactly!" He grew more animated. "The quality here is, well. Have you tried the cotton, Lady Belle? My Bertha would die of shame if she had to present you with even a sock in this world!"

"...I see."

Belle didn't, but she was broadminded enough to understand that priorities would differ. Personally she hadn't noticed much of a difference in the local clothing aside for the shorter fashions. but she also had already complained to Rumpelstiltskin about the lack of leather covers for newer books.

"Well," Frank said dejectedly. "Nothing to do about it anyway."

Belle smiled encouragingly. "I trust your wife's work to triumph, no matter the available materials." She rose, making to accompany him to the door and answering his bow with a slight curtsey. "In fact, please do tell Miss Bertha that I'll visit her soon."

The seamstress' husband grinned, giving her a lower bow. "We'll be glad to have you, Lady Belle!"

Once the man was out of sight, Belle sat back at her desk and considered the situation.

Rumpelstiltskin was busy breaking the town line. Regina was recovering her son's trust.

Happy endings were closer at hand this time. Perhaps she could keep an eye on what happened around them this time.

The End

17/04/24

[desertpersephone]

blue swallow motel, room 14, 7pm. hope to see you there, secret agent. | baron|marmalade/otis huxley, marmalotis I 3k | Mature Audiences | conversations, mutual obsession, motel meeting, brief mention of rape/childhood sa

a/n: just a little exploration of these characters and their obsession with each other set in a dingy motel, as a nb person this movie really hit for me

“So what was real?” Steam swirled around the tiny bathroom, and Otis’ toes curled into the fuzzy bath mat thrown down on tile that maybe at one point was white. Now the grout was gray and the tiles were tan and the bathmat was that old kind. The kind grannies have, the itchy kind, and he figured whoever had picked it must have thought it made the bathroom look homey. “All of it was real, sweetheart. In some way. Some of what I told you I embellished — made it that way so you'd trust me, little innocent Baron, just tryin' to get back to his girl.” “Then not all of it was real.” “The Babydoll Bandit you met wasn't exactly real I guess. She had pieces that were real, the way she came to me — pulled up in that car. Flashy and pink and a little too wild. That was real.” “But —” “It's a metaphor, darling. I dreamed up Marmalade laying in that meadow, half formed and hidden, something I wanted but didn’t understand. And I was laying there, and I remembered when my foster mama came and picked me up, saved me finally, opened up the door — and she didn’t have a car like Big Bertha but the feeling was the same. I love my foster mama, but I was — I just wasn’t a really great kid yknow? Ran away a lot. And then she got sick and — I just got a lotta stuff to make up for now. . .She tucked me into the backseat and took me away — she really had a love of pink. Still does. But I saw it all again laying there, felt it all again, but it wasn't her drivin'. It was me, all in pink, coming to my own rescue.” “It was Marmalade.”

“Yeah. She was real for the first time in that moment.” “So you're Marmalade?” “Sometimes. And sometimes I feel like I'm still naive little ‘Baron’.” The Bug Bay Bandit’s voice was loud enough to hear over the shower, the water pressure too high to make a shower this long pleasurable. There was the snap of a bottle cap and the smell of fake apples filled the closet of a room and Otis thought about how sore his ass was, sitting on the hard lid of the toilet. Otis could almost hear him starting to lather the body wash all over his tan skin as apple smell suffocated the steamy bathroom.

read on ao3

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Maze Runner Chapter eighteen

Previous chapter

Master list

You're woken by Mai Mai licking at your face. Newt gently turns the tiger away and you realise you're resting in his lap. His big brown eyes meet yours and he smiles.

“Good morning sweetheart.”

You sit up and look around, Thomas was also just waking up and Brenda was sitting on a couch with a blanket over her legs. The man from the front was tied to a chair and the others stood around the room. Jorge punched the man.

“I suggest that you talk! You son of a bitch! Damn it!” Jorge growled.

“I'm sorry… you're going to have to leave my house.”the man coughed.

“Looks like you've been having fun. Listen. I don't enjoy hurting you. Where is the Right Arm, Marcus?”

“Wait, this is Marcus?” Thomas stands up.

“The kid catches on quick. Are you the brains

of the operation?” The man you now knew was Marcus said.

“I know you know where they're hiding. So you tell me, and I'll make you a deal. You can come with us.” Jorge explained.

“I burned that bridge a long time ago. Besides, I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me, never miss an opportunity.” he laughed.

“What's he talking about?” Newt asks.

“I'm talking about supply and demand. WICKED wants all the Immunes they can get. I help provide that for them. So I lure the kids in, they get drunk, they have a good time. And then, later, WICKED comes in… they separate the wheat from the chaff.” Marcus explained, laughing again. He ignores the blood running down his face.

“I changed my mind, hermano. I do enjoy hurting you.” Jorge kicks the chair Marcus is tied to over and pulls his gun out. “Talk! Talk!”

“Okay! Jesus! But I'm not making any promises. These guys like to move around. They have an outpost in the mountains but it's a long way away. You got half of WICKED on your ass. You're never gonna make it.” Marcus coughs out.

“Not on foot. Where's Bertha?” It was Jorge's turn to smile.

You all pile into the car. It's a little cramped, even with Mai Mai in the trunk with Frypan. You sat on Newt's lap in the front seat, Brenda beside you with Minho, Aris, Thomas and Teresa in the back. The drive was actually nice. You all had a new set of supplies you had taken from Marcus. There was a nice breeze blowing through the car that cooled off the hot sun and it felt nice to be close to Newt again. There was a jovial air amongst your party that eased you all. Jorge drove along a road that led up the mountainside.

He stopped the car and you all tumbled out. There were a number of cars abandoned on the road.

“Well, I guess we're on foot.” he announced the obvious to you. As you walk it feels too quiet to you and apprehension tickles your nerves.

Thomas notices a bullet hole in a car windscreen, he brings his fingers up to it and a bullet whizzes past him. You all rush to hide behind the cars. Mai Mai pushes you and Newt against a car covering you with her long body. You clutch your arm to your chest and Newt sees you. The foreign stops and it goes quiet until you hear a female voice talking to Thomas and Jorge, a rifle pointed at them.

“On your feet, let's go!” The two women call you all over to them and you step forward with your arms up. The woman with the dreadlocks lowers her gun.

“Oh my god Aris?” She pulls her mask off.

“Oh my god, Harriet?” Aris rushed past you all and grabbed the woman. She was no older than any of you. The other girl pulled her mask off and ran over.

“Sonya.” Aris hugged her as well.

“Aris you're lucky we didn't shoot your dumb ass.” The blonde laughed.

“What's happening?” Minho asked.

“We were in the maze together.” Aris explained. Harriet used her fingers to send out a loud whistle.

“We're clear guys, come on out!” She shouted.

“Copy that, all clear.” A man's voice called back. Looking around the mountain tops you see several people standing up with weapons.

“Whoa.” You breathe out.

The two girls show you all up through the mountain to a set of cars.

“Err the tiger will have to go-”

“She stays with me.” You say leaving no chance for an argument.

“Sure.” Harriet gives you a tight grin and shows you to the second car. Mai Mai jumps in with you and Newt. They drive you to the main base. It's a series of tents and a hive of work. Easily over a hundred people were scattered around the base. Delicious food was being cooked nearby and you could hear laughter, genuine happy laughter.

“Where's Vince?” Sonya asked one of the men who pointed to his left.

“Whose Vince?” Thomas asked.

“He's the one that decides if you get to stay.” Harriet replied.

“I thought the right arm was supposed to be an army.” Thomas said.

“Yeah, we were. This is all that's left of us. Lot of good people died getting us this far. Who are they?” A man with blonde hair and a rough tired face stepped up to your group.

“They're Immunes. Caught 'em coming up the mountain.” Harriet explained.

“Did you check 'em?”

“I know this guy, Aris. I trust him.” She pointed at him.

“Well, I don't. Check 'em.”

Just as the other men were coming close to check you all Brenda gasped for air and fell forward, collapsing on the floor.

“Brenda! Brenda!” Jorge and Thomas jumped to her.

“What's going on?” Vince asks.

“Brenda! Brenda. Brenda, talk to me.” Jorge pulls Brenda on to his lap and holds her.

“ I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” She sputters.

“What's going on with her?” Vince growled.

“I don't know. Brenda, are you all right? Brenda? Talk to me.” Jorge begins to cry. Vince steps up to them and pulls her trousers leg up exposing the posing wound.

“ What the hell?”

“Shit!”

“Crank! We got a Crank!”

Several.of the men draw their weapons and point them at Brenda.

“ No!” Thomas leaps in front of them, “Listen, okay? This just happened, okay?She's not dangerous yet.” He tries to explain.

“You shouldn't have brought her here!” Vince shouts.

“I know.”

“We let Cranks in here now, the safe haven doesn't last a week! Step back!” Vince moved his gun to point at Thomas.

“I understand, okay? I understand. Just listen. Please. Please, okay? I told her that you could help.”

“Okay? No.”

“There's got to be something you can do.” He implores them.

“Yeah, there is. I can put her out of her misery.” Vince moves forward aiming his pistol at Brenda once again.

“No! No!” You all shout at once. Vince grabs hold of Thomas.

“Vince, that's enough! Let him go. Let him go!” a woman pushed through the crowd over to Brenda and crouched beside her.

“She's infected, Doc. There's nothing we can do for her.” Vince said.

“No, but he can. Hello, Thomas.” The woman said with a soft smile.

“What?” Thomas took a step back, “You know me?”

“Interesting. It makes sense they'd put you in the maze. Though I must admit...I was worried they'd kill you after what you did.” She said.

“What I did?”

“The first time we spoke, you said you couldn't take it anymore, watching your friends die, one by one. The last time we spoke, you gave me the coordinates of every WICKED compound, trial and lab.”

“He was our source.” Vince realised.

“We couldn't have pulled all this off without him. Take her to the tent. Get these guys some warm clothes. Thomas, come on. I need to get some blood from you.” She said, You watched as they went into the med tent.

In the beginning, we were lost. Harriet and Sonya showed you all over to a tent where they issued you all with warmer coats. She leads Mai Mai over to the cook tent where she is given a large slab of meat.

Newt watches you, pressing his lips together.

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” He asks and you follow him back out of the tent and round one of the large rocks, blocking you from view of the others.

“What happened to your arm?” He asks abruptly.

“I don't know what you mean.” You say and instinctively pull your arm closer to yourself.

“Show me, please.” You can see the fear in his eyes and it melts you.

“Look it happened when Winston got hurt. One of the Cranks-”

“What?” He grabbed your arm and pulled back your sleeve, revealing the bite wound. It was clean and healing. Newt blinked a few times.

“What?” He says again.

“I guess I am immune.” You say, hoping it would lighten his mood.

“Y/n, why did you hide this from me?” he asks, running his thumb over the healing wound.

“I was frightened, I didn't want to turn into one of them. I didn't want you to see me like that. I figured if anything happened I could just sort it out myself.” You admit, holding back the tears that wanted to fall. Newt pulled your arm up to his face and kissed the wound.

“You don't have to go through anything alone anymore.” He took a breath, kissed your knuckles, “I love you, so I'll help you with anything that happens.” He took your other hand and pressed a soft kiss to your palm, “it killed me not knowing if you were alive before, Mai Mai had to drag me away from there when the building collapsed.” A tear fell from his eye as he looked at you.

“I'm sorry, Newt. I haven't been a very good girlfriend.” You try to make.a.joke and he chuckles.

“No, you've been terrible.” He laughs and pulls you closer by wrapping your arms around his neck, your faces now inches apart. You feel his breath fan out over you as he closes the space between you. Your body freezes for a second when his lips finally touch yours, until your body takes over and you melt into him. Newt holds you against the rock as he kisses you until you both have to draw back and breathe.

"I love you too, newt" your smile.

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe @akilaporu001

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