#but like the entirety of my dance training outside of this show was doing Anything Goes my sophomore year of high school

[eastberlin]

At rehearsal last night we majorly reworked a couple dance numbers and now I need to find some poses with rhythmic movement to do during one bit and I'm up on the balcony which has a railing so I have made the executive decision to steal from Hey Big Spender.

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

twenty six

pairing: harry styles x OC

synopsis: an emotional night

disclaimer: nightmares, child abuse, blood, descriptions of child abuse, kissing

The mind returns in dream

-Amy Bonner

"Did you know that Queen Victoria had a 14 year old stalker who broke into Buckingham Palace at least four times?"

"I didn't know that." Harry mumbles, turning himself on his side to look at Avery. She is lying on her back, eyes trained on the ceiling, saying anything that comes across her mind.

"Apparently he even stole her underwear once!"

"Avery, we’re supposed to sleep." There was a small bat of silence after Harry’s statement. In truth, Avery had been doing everything she could to avoid sleeping, despite agreeing to rest.

"Oh right" She murmurs, closing her eyes before opening them again. "I’m sorry. What time is it? Is it morning yet?"

"It must be around 1am."

"That's not close to morning at all," Her lips start to quiver at the realization. He watches as she takes two deep breaths, shuts her eyes, and turns to face him; the quivering coming to a stop.

"can't we drink a cup of tea? I always sleep better with tea."

Harry can hear the desperation in her voice. He can see her clinging to any possible scenario that will keep her awake. Every possibility that will prolong the inevitable. She needs sleep. At this point, more than anything.

“You’ve had more than enough tea for the night. We can make more in the morning. But first, we have to sleep." Right outside the window streetlights cast ambient light upon Avery's bedroom. The golden rays dance across her face so elegantly; so gently.

Her eyes are trained on something Harry can’t see, but he is acutely aware of her. He can see the three freckles that have made themselves home on her nose, the heart shape of her lips, the cerulean blue hue of her eyes. He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

If only he could take a photograph. Try to capture this moment in its entirety, in all of its beauty. Show them how amazing these small, intimate moments are. Or maybe he didn't want that. Maybe he just wanted to keep her close. Keep this for him, and only him.

"What about my Valerian pills? They help me fall asleep."

"Love, don’t they make it worse?"

"Sometimes, but at least I'll be asleep." Her eyes finally trail up to his own. While his are calm and reassuring, hers are filled with fear. Fear that runs deeper than he could ever imagine.

"What do you dream about, Ave?" His fingers caress her cheek, he can feel her breath hitch as he gently brushes her hair behind her ear.

"I’ve never told anyone," She mutters, her eyes never leaving his own. Not for a second. "not anyone I cared about."

"Then let me be the first" With his hands on her cheeks, his eyes fall to her rosy lips. The familiar urge to kiss her resurfaces, flowing from his head to his toes. But he can’t, he knows he can’t. What they have is too delicate to risk.

From the moment that he had met her, he knew that she was alone. He has never seen her with anyone else, never seen her receive a text message or a phone call. To his knowledge, she doesn’t step foot out of her flat unless something important warrants her to do so.

Deep down, he knows that he is all that she’s got. The only person who is there for her in any true sense. The last thing he wants to do is ruin what they’ve created by giving in to his own urges.

Regardless of Harry's string of thoughts, their eyes meet. Sky blue on forest green. As Avery's eyes trail down to his lips, he slowly leans forward, pressing his lips to her own. The kiss is delicate and soft. With his calloused hands gently cupping her cheeks, Avery feels like that of porcelain. Like a fragile piece of glass someone is terrified to drop.

His hands drop from her face to her hip, pulling her impossibly closer. She grabs at his shirt, heavy breaths escaping as their lips briefly part. They are so close to one another, entangled with each other in every way they could, but it isn’t close enough.

His lips taste like earl grey tea and peppermint gum, a blend Avery didn’t know could be so addictive. Her lips taste of bitter coffee, but he doesn’t mind. They’re hers, that’s all that matters.

A few moments later Harry pulls back. He rests his forehead atop her own, leaving a gentle kiss to her nose as they both regain their breaths. Harry's thoughts diminish as he focuses on what’s happening now. The present. It’s only now that he can really see just how Avery is reacting. Her hands are latched tightly to his shirt, desperately trying to pull him closer. Harry's gentle call of her name does nothing to aid in her growing frustration.

He lets her pull him in once again, their lips reconnecting in a more heated kiss. She bites down on his lower lip, letting him know that he can continue. Harry slowly turns them over, leaning up with his elbows on either side of Avery's head, Avery laying on her back. And they kiss. Averys lips continue locking with his own because this feeling is so different from how numb she has felt. How she has been feeling for far too long.

For the first time that Avery can remember, she feels alive. Feeling Harry's lips on hers, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath her touch, it feels like home. Like comfort and safety, like last minute trips to the beach and drinking tea at house parties. It feels like everything finally coming together.

If only she could stay here for the rest of her life - stay right here, in this moment. Forever. Then everything would be alright. No worries, no mean girls, no nightmares, no sleepless nights. None of it. She would be okay. She could handle every thought spiral, every mean word, every single doubt, if she knew that she could come home to this. Know that she could feel Harry's lips on hers at the end of the day.

The small sounds Avery is emitting make Harry slow his movements down "Ave..." he mumbles in between kisses. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay… slow down, love. It’s okay.”

She can’t look into his eyes, he sees the tears welling up in them. Her whimpers only grow louder once she knows that he is aware of them, worrying him even more. In an effort to calm her, Harry starts trailing kisses down her face.

“I’m not going to hurt you�� I am never going to hurt you… I don't ever want to do that.” She hasn’t said a word to him in an alarming amount of time, not letting him know what is going on in her head. His kisses trail down her jaw before pressing softly into her neck, right above her pulse point. “Talk to me, love. Please say something…”

“You will leave…” She says it so quietly that he almost misses it. But when those three words hit his ears his own eyes begin to water. He immediately stops his actions, softly cupping her cheeks in his hands. Her lips quivers once again before she whispers “I don’t want you to leave, Harry.”

"I won’t, Avery. I’m not going to leave." He reassures her, pushing another strand of hair out of her face as a few tears roll down her cheeks. "Look at me, please... I know you’re scared, I know. This is something new for the both of us, and new things are always scary."

"God I'm pathetic," Harry wipes the tears away from her cheeks, looking down at the girl below him with empathetic eyes. "I'm sorry"

“It’s okay. You’re not pathetic. If anyone here is pathetic, it’s me because I am just so smitten by you!”

Avery giggles as Harry presses one final kiss to her lips, both of them smiling into it like lovesick idiots. His arms wrap around her before turning them over, settling into a comfortable silence.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” Avery nods her head, looking up at Harry.

"Do you promise you’ll wake me?" Her head is lying on his chest, right above his heart, and his arm is tightly wrapped around her petite frame.

"I'll wake you, I promise."

“Mommy!” I cry, hitting the cellar door with my fists. I can see a little bit of light from under the door, it shines on the staircase all the way down to the floor. I’ve been trying to get her to come here for a while, I don’t know if she can hear me.

“Mommy! it’s really cold…” I still don’t hear her. Hitting the door that many times makes both of my hands hurt. I sit up against the wall next to the door, shivering. The wall is just as cold as everything else. The stones in it hurt my back as I sit.

I got to talk to Daddy on the phone a couple days ago, and he said we would go to the park today. I really want to go, but I don’t know where he is. I don’t want to be here anymore, not with Mommy. I just want to go upstairs to my room. Sleep in my bed with all my stuffed animals and my blankie. Maybe I could stay with Daddy after the park.

“Can I please have my blankie?… Please, Mommy. It’s really really cold!” Sheepy is sitting against the wall opposite me. I grab him and hold him close to my chest. “Are you cold, Sheepy?” I pet his fur, but it’s not as soft as it used to be, and he is missing one of his button eyes. It fell off earlier today.

“Don’t worry, Daddy is gonna take us to the park soon. He promised, remember?”

There is a very loud noise and I scream as the door slams open. Before I can move out of the way, I am falling down the stairs. My head hits the wall and all it’s stones many times before I hit the bottom. I open my eyes and see the bottom of the staircase, my eyes all blurry as I cry out to Mommy. She is standing all the way at the door.

“Mommy!” I try to walk towards her, but my head is so dizzy I can barely move. As soon as I stand I fall back down again. “Please let me out… I know i’ve been bad, but Daddy wants to take me to-“

“Your Father isn’t coming today, so be quiet! For god's sake, how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” She starts walking down the stairs.

“But he promised he would…” All of a sudden I can hear a loud slap, Mommy’s hand hitting my cheek really hard. My ears start to ring as my head hits the hard concrete floor. She stands over me as I keep crying. I can see Sheepy laying on his side not far from me.

"Listen! I don't care what your father said, I need you to be quiet. Understood?"

"Yes, mommy. But can you fix Sheepys eye? Please? It fell off earlier and I can’t put it back on." I grab Sheepy and hold him out to her, she takes him out of my hand. I pull his button eye out of my pocket, keeping it in my hand. "Here's his eye."

Mommy huffs, looking at Sheepy but then she turns around and starts walking up the stairs, his eye still in my hand.

"No! NO! Mommy, the button, you have to take his eye to fix him! He can’t see without his eye! Please don't take Sheepy away from me, please!" I stand up super fast, still very dizzy, and try to walk to the stairs. But Mommy is too far away to hear me and I can’t reach her anymore. I can hear the door close; leaving me down here all by myself.

I lay back down on the floor, it feels even colder down here now. My whole body hurts. I am cold and all alone.

Avery wakes up without a sound. Everything is silent; impossibly still. The silhouette of a tree looms over the room, encasing the space in it’s dark, sinister shadow.

Hot, heavy tears stream down her face, her breath beginning to quicken. Every inch of her body hurts, every movement awakening an ache she didn’t know was there. But of course it hurts, the fall just happened yesterday. How couldn’t it hurt? No body could heal after only a few hours time from something like that. She can feel bruises beginning to bloom beneath her skin, no doubt covering most of her body.

Her anxious eyes roam over her surroundings. She is not locked in the cellar, but sitting atop a bed. It is still cold, so very cold, but comfortable and familiar. She can’t quite place it. Only now is the body laying peacefully by her side of notice to her. Harry is still asleep, his head resting mere inches from her thigh. Harry… where did he come from? Has he just arrived? Did he see the bruises?

The sound of a car backfiring rang through the silence, making Avery jump and her head shoot to the window overlooking the London street. her motion startled Harry awake, he began to stir beside her.

His eyes opened slowly, his gaze falling upon her figure. She was visibly shaking, tears streaming down her face. She looked terrified. At this sight, he was wide awake, quickly sitting upwards.

"Oh Avery, I'm sorry I-I didn't hear you-"

"My arm hurts really bad, Harry." She whimpers, cradling her left arm to her chest. "It hurts so much."

"Where does it hurt?" He carefully reaches out to her, his fingers softly brushing over her skin. To the touch, she was ice cold. No wonder she was shivering.

"Everything hurts…" Harry slowly pulls her towards him, encasing her shivering figure in two blankets before settling her body between his outstretched legs, wrapping both of his arms around her. His hands are rubbing up and down the expanse of her back, the motion attempting to soothe all the distress. Her head rests between his neck and shoulder.

"Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs," Her cries grew to hiccuping sobs, her breath irregular and too fast for her lungs to process. Harry freezes at her words.

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

"And now everything hurts, Harry. Look at all the bruises." Her words are spoken through heartbreaking sobs. He looks over her, searching for any evidence of the fall, but nothing can be seen. There aren't any bruises on her, no visible ones anyway. Just her cold, pale, flawless skin. She's hallucinating, she thinks her dream happened yesterday.

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

"It's going to be okay, Ave... just breathe" Harry murmurs into her hair, his hand resting gently on the back of her head, lightly pushing it farther into his neck. And as Avery concentrates on her breathing, tears fill Harry's eyes, quietly running down his cheeks.

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

"Look... the bruises are already gone." He lifts her blankets ever so slightly, letting his fingertips run over her skin. Harry delicately lifts her arm to his lips, pressing soft kisses to it. Starting at her hands, he trails them all the way up to her shoulder before moving to the other arm. "No more bruises, angel. See?"

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

She nods slowly, pressing her head against his racing heart, her tears now beginning to dry on her raw cheeks. After a few minutes, Harry can feel her stable breaths against his neck. The small puffs of warm air signalling that she has fallen back asleep.

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

Harry looks down at her, replaying what has just occurred over in his mind. He leans his head down, Kissing the top of Averys head as all of it catches up with him. He can’t help the sob that escaped his lips, the weight of it shaking his chest, tears falling from his eyes.

At the sudden movement, Avery shoots up. Raising her head to look at him, her eyes meeting his own. A worried expression plastered across her tear stained face.

"What’s happened?" She exclaims, her hands coming up to rest on his cheeks, eyes searching what could have caused him to cry. "Harry, don't cry... is everything alright? Please tell..."

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

That's enough for him to know that she doesn't remember waking up. Doesn't remember crying to him about all the pain. Telling him what happened. "It's nothing," He manages to let out, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, before leaving a lingering one on her lips. "I'm just so happy that you're here with me. That you’re safe."

"I'm happy too." She smiles softly. She wants to press further about what has happened, but she knows now is not the right time. Harry laces their fingers together before bringing their joined hands to his lips, trying his hardest to push all of this out of his mind.

It takes half an hour for the both of them to get settled into bed again. Harry leaving Avery's side only to steep her a cup of peppermint tea. With time, she fell back asleep, this one being dreamless. With her finally at rest, Harry was left awake, watching over her carefully. His hand rests atop her cheek, his thumb carting over the soft skin, letting her know that he is right by her side.

Yesterday... she pushed me down the stairs.

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@mk1113-posts-blog

[noro-noro-noro]

really long and detailed dream but I did like 5 things before remembering I wanted to write it down, so it will now be like this

- first something about a game ? it seemed kind of splatoon like at least in the environment, a big open area with lots of like metal grates and the ocean was there & at night time peolle slept in cut off tube segmentsp but your character was trying to escape through the sewers. I was watching my friend stream it for a bit, I think it was like a roguelike where you unlocked more mechanics & biomes for the sewers, andit was also smth like you only have 1 health. there was a section where lava was rising and he fel in & died.

there were also item sets you could complrte by using a 3d printer to make letters or decorations for your sliced off room. anyway then during the day the boss (?) of the indergroind area, who called himself like chocotrain and looked like a flying rainbow patterned train with Googly eyes, showed up to holler at me. there was a scripted unwinnable fight where he catches you and shreds you into tiny pieces with a wood chipper, but your coworkers stop him from getting the very last piece of your foot, which then turned into a small brown mouse. your coworkers all watched this in horror- not everyone supported your escape plan bht nobody wanted you to get shredded to death in a wood chipper. your supervisor saw the mouse and threw a dried plum at you.

this was also one of yhose environments where the sentient machines were clearly in charge and there were human bosses that were mostly for show..the human boss here was an older chinese guy who really believed in wearing long flowing traditional clothing. he built a contraption with a pig head thst looked like a human and that was my house & he danced around with me.

- second, I think it was kinda like harry potter? idk we were in the big dining area & everyone there were in their little robes and that was about it. some transfer student girl was there & her powers were really strong? she could find things & have them sparkle in your mind. and she could open things by splitting them in half. I had an ooc moment & was like oh right main character needs to be friends with her so we can find the 700 keys suspended in the pipes beneath the ground. anyway girls family doubtednher and also sucked, so we went outside to this section where it was a bunch of bridges directly on top of a lake & they were like ok girl. count every grain of sand. and move them. and she was like well I don't want to do that. & after they were nasty for a little while longer she split the entirety of the lake in half so they were away from her and went storming kff into the castlr & accidentally started opening the divine seven fold door or something. idk it was like the first doors looked normal but they got smaller & more ornate as you went through the 4th one was made of bones & scaramouche genshin impact was there. i called out to him “ 散兵” & he heard me and made her turn back bc opening the 7th door would have the god they trapped come out or something. and then he was mean to her tol bc you know how he is.

- I had a dream here, let's call it dream 2.5 bc I can't remember shit about it

- third dream something like a grocery store. there was some kind of group rvent at the grocery store. idk what the rewards were. teams of 4. the cashier lady would try to give my team hints bc we sucked but we just kept failing every question. I only remember some snowboarding guy on my team, he was taller than me with really light blue eyes & kind of messy light brown hair & he was wearing like a whole snowsuit. I think he fit the description of himbo pretty well, & he was always excited & would like clap his hands on my shoulders and bend down to look me in the eye if I ever suggested anything, which was nice but also got kind of overwhelming bc his eye contact was sooo intense. this guy become important for the sevond hslf of the dream. a

anyway this guy also assumed the centers of the aisles had some kind of gravitational pull so he'd just throw stuff on the ground like it'll all work out! & it did not. I remember one of our last questions was like "grab a muffin off the shelf that weighs exactly 6g" & I got one that was 5.9 & he got one that was 7.4. after that I was like well we did our best! & left the grocery store.

I was in an area like my college campus x 100,000 cherry blossoms. everything was vaguely pink purple tinted. I found a nice spot to sit and have lunch next to the HAUNTED BUILDING FULL OF PURPLE DEMONS. I was chilling and enjoying the nice weather - warm but not too warm, & lots of floating petals and no pollen. anyway the ghosts and demons came out of the building and were causing problems. I kept eating my sandwich.

some stuff happened in this area & there was a flash back to like dream 2.5 which I remember Nothing Of, but it was then something like I worked in a team to ????? with. the snoeboarder guy, or to save him. I do not remember. anyway snap back to reality I'm lying on my back &.?6 old team approached me - this person named James I knew in highschool,.my roommate from when I went to Prague, this girl tiffany from studio that was nice to me but owes my friend like $2000. they were like you need to eat these fruits and held a bunch of purple shit in my face. one was a bell pepper. one was like had the texture of bread crust loaf.of bread. the 3rd one kight have been a lavender melon of genshin impact? very juicy.

anyway now i'm fighting the demons with my genshin impact hyperbloom team except Raiden got replaced with diona somehow so I had no energy recharge and no dps. and the snowboatder guy is there getting possessed - he's standing all hunched over and his eyes and mouth are gloeing white, etc etc.

we save him, somehow. he comes back to us & I can't say I'm not extra relieved bc he was nice to me. then there's like an ad break for an animated version of our show where the 4 of us have like magical girl transformations into cool goth girls wearing dark purple outfits & then the snowboarding guy has his own transform & looks like Elsa frozen instead lol

[ao3theskyisblue]

From the outside

Summary:

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

"Woke up late today."

Written for @911lonestarangstweek Day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?” 

Just a heads up it’s OC-centric (outsider’s POV) 

Read on AO3

When Kegan woke up to complete silence, the light brighter than it should have been at 7am in the morning peeking in through the gap between his curtains, he should have known it was going to be a terrible day. There were no birds chirping, no neighbours yelling about broken lawn gnomes, nothing.

The quiet was always a cue for sudden disaster.

Fumbling for his phone on the bedside table, he lifted the screen only to fall off the bed with a loud thud and a string of curses at three realizations.

One: his snooze was a lie.

Two: he was going to be late on the last day of his trial week.

Three: he forgot to iron his uniform yesterday.

“Fuck me in the ear with a corn.” Kegan groaned, giving up on saving his duvet and instead shoving it in the general direction of the bed before sprinting to the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth, squeezing toothpaste on at the last second and hoping the brushes hopefully scraped across a few of his teeth.

He dampened his skin underneath a stream of cold water, but it wasn’t hardly enough for a towel to wipe off as he shimmied into his work clothes, slipping on his duty belt last. Grabbing a comb on his way out of the bathroom, he jumped the entirety of the stairs, miraculously without breaking a knee, and slid into the kitchen.

With his comb stuck in his curls.

His mother visibly startled, spinning around to look at him with eyes widened in shock, almost dropping the bowl of strawberries in her hand. Kegan snatched a few, ignoring his mother’s disapproving look before shoving them down his throat.  

“Shove them any harder and you’ll choke.” His mother says drily, placing the bowl onto the counter and Kegan works to swallow the three he managed to stuff in his mouth. He can feel the lumps slowly moving down his esophagus, the slight pain of the movement a nice distraction as he thought of all the excuses he could for why he would be showing up late today to the precinct.

Unfortunately, he knew who he would be shadowing today and lying to this man in particular twisted more guilt in his stomach than anyone else in the police department.

“Not the worst thing I’ve choked on.” Kegan shrugged, smiling at his mother innocently when she scrunched up her nose.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you, I thought you’d already left.” Kegan stilled at that, the smile on his face now a mere gesture of courtesy rather than truth as he looked away.

They both knew why she didn’t bother waking him up. He didn’t need to be studying to become a police officer to hear the blatant lie through his mother’s voice, and that phone call he happened to overhear a few days ago suddenly rang loudly in his ears.

Kegan didn’t bother with a response, instead heading out of the kitchen and towards the entranceway, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. He didn’t look up to know his mother was watching him, eyes piercing him like a hawk as he stood in uniform.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to prove a point.”

The words came out quiet, as if just an absent thought that was accidentally said out loud, but Kegan looked up this time, eyes blazing with a ferocity that had his mother stepping back in response.

“I’m not doing this to prove anybody a point,” Kegan says lowly, anger prickling along his spine and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I’m doing it for me. You don’t need to understand, or support me. But say it to my face next time instead of behind my back. Stabbing me would hurt less.”

Kegan didn’t wait for his mother’s reaction before pulling the front door open roughly and slamming it shut behind him. The bright sun seemed to be taunting him with its brilliant presence, as if shining any brighter would overcloud the dark shadow that seemed to never stop looming over him ever since they packed their bags and left Venice.

It was going to be a terrible day.

 .

Two hours into his shift, and Kegan already wanted to drown himself in his bathtub while holding onto a plugged-in toaster.

Two fender benders that involved idiots and their screaming that probably left permanent scarring to his eardrums. A woman who thought her neighbours had gotten into a fight with all the banging on the walls until they arrived and saw things that almost made him grab the nearest bottle of sanitizer and scrub his eyes clean. Then there was the elderly man who thought someone was trying to break into his house only to find a woodpecker innocently drilling a hole on the side of his doorframe.

It couldn’t get any worse, could it?  

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Woke up late today. Didn’t have time to grab anything before we were called in.” Kegan sighed, not bothering with keeping his guard up. He’s shadowed Officer Reyes a few times during the trial week, and he was one of the few officers in Austin PD that he actually liked. One thing he’s learned from the first time he shadowed him was that the man had no time for bullshit. Emotions, including ones that told him to just punch straight through walls were valid as long as he talked about it.

Open communication and all that.

They were doing a routine patrol, eyes peeled and other senses alert for any calls that could come through the radio. So far, the calls had been mostly in other districts that already had their own patrols answering, and the next light was the indication they successfully drove one full loop. So, when Officer Reyes suddenly turned right when they were supposed to go straight, Kegan frowned.

“Uh, were we supposed to make that turn just now?” Kegan peered back, not like that could have done anything to change the direction they were driving but Officer Reyes just shook his head.

“There’s a café nearby.” At his skeptical look, the officer rolled his eyes. “The city will be fine if we take a five-minute break.” Officer Reyes says, making Kegan raise an eyebrow. Of the limited time they’ve spent time together, he never pegged him to be a complete rule-sticker, but this unexpected gesture still caught him off guard.

They stopped next to a fairly busy café, the store sign making him snort in disbelief as he got out of the cruiser, shutting the door behind him.

“Definitely not ominous.” Kegan says wryly, looking up at the vibrant ‘The Hideout Café – Seek Out Your Poison!’ sign above his head. There was a quiet chuckle beside him, and he turned to see Officer Reyes sporting a wide smile, amusement dancing across his features. He looked around the area and frowned when he saw a red minivan travelling suspiciously towards them.

“Hey, isn’t that car driving too fast?” Kegan moved to get a better look, frowning when the vehicle not only didn’t slow down, but instead seemed to be deliberately heading towards them.

He turned towards Reyes, about to ask what they should do in this situation but frowned when his eyes widened in horror.

His hand was already on his radio, but nothing could have prepared him for a shout, a hard shove, and the equivalence of his soul being knocked out of him.

And just like the day the cops showed up to his doorstep with bulletproof vests and guns raised in search of his father, his world stopped.

.

The individual granules of sand in an hourglass.

He remembered staring at them when he was younger, fascinated as the particles slowly trickled down with time. It was hypnotizing, but he would glance up occasionally to gaze at the clock hanging above the piano, watching the minuscule tilt of the hour-hand each time the minute-hand made its rotation.

It was a weird sensation, the brief moment where your life flashes by in old film. But just as quick as they came, they’re abruptly cut off as if given to him at the wrong time.

There were thoughts sluggishly trying to make sense in his mind, and Kegan wondered if memories could transcend the living and stay with the dead.

He winced against the sun’s rays, the crick in his back making itself known before he was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

“-okay? Someone call 911!”

“They literally are 911-”

“I don’t think the other officer’s breathing.”

Kegan sat up abruptly at that, testing his fingers and toes and letting out a breath of relief when he felt them both. He couldn’t help but notice the red minivan speeding off, his training kicking in and automatically memorizing the license plate before it disappeared in the crowd.

“Are you alright, officer?”

Kegan turned his head towards the voice, seeing a barista leaning over him slightly, eyes wide with shock and concern. He opened his mouth to reply, before the entirety of his memories kicked back in.

Where was Officer Reyes?

Kegan scrambled up, staggering and clutching onto the barista’s shoulder when he reached out to steady him. His eyes darted around the crowded street, ignoring the phones and insistent chatter and focused on something a little way away from him.

No.

Stumbling forward, he forced his legs to move towards the man sprawled down on the sidewalk, one hand leaning down to feel for a pulse and the other reaching for his radio.

“This is 363-H-20. I need medics at Congress and 7th, officer down! Send out an APB for a red minivan with Texas licence plates Alpha-Charlie-Foxtrot-3875.” Kegan didn’t know how he hadn’t stuttered when his heart was currently beating outside of his chest, barely clinging onto the last moments of clarity.  He barely heard the affirmative through dispatch for both his requests, before leaning down to see if the man laying so still beneath him was still breathing.

He was, and his pulse was steady, but he wasn’t awake.

“Officer Reyes? Can you hear me?” Kegan pinched his earlobe, his instincts and training working on autopilot, and slapped the ground beside Officer Reyes’ ears a few times.

The man didn’t so much as stir.

Kegan made sure to consistently check his pulse and breathing, prodding his body gently for any injuries he might have missed, eyes flitting up every few seconds to watch for eye movement. He didn’t move the man, the paramedics would be the judge of that, and he couldn’t see anything else other than a nasty bruise starting to form just above his lower back.

“How is he?”

Kegan barely spared the barista, who was still crouching beside him for some reason, a look as he shook his head.

“I don’t-”

“Rossi?”

Kegan’s whirled his head, letting out a choked sound of relief when he saw Officer Reyes blinking blearily at him, looking beyond confused. There was a 7-second delay before he seemed to remember what had happened, and Kegan didn’t hesitate to hold him still when he tried to get up.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Officer Reyes asked, and Kegan let out a sound of disbelief, hearing the barista beside him scoff incredulously. That sound almost validated everything he was thinking at the moment, and absently noted to buy the barista a drink for their service.

“Officer Reyes, was it? You were just thrown in the air like a sack of potatoes when that idiot driver decided the sidewalk would be the perfect place to take his new wheels for a spin,” The barista said, and Kegan glanced at the name card that read ‘Lawrence.’ Kegan startled when Lawrence turned towards him, a kind but worried smile still present on his lips. “If you hadn’t pushed this one out of the way and yelled that warning, things could have gone a lot worse.”

Kegan bit back a sharp retort on how it was already a worse case scenario because someone got hurt, but his mother had always told him to bite his tongue when emotions were running on fumes, and he knew nothing would come from yelling at a barista for something out of his control.

“Well, at least I can skip the paperwork.” Kegan narrowed his eyes, sending the other officer a dirty look.

“Oh, you’re doing all the paperwork. I’m even giving you mine, seeing as you just stripped at least five years off my lifespan.” Kegan glowered, and Reyes had the sheer audacity to laugh weakly. “Can you wiggle your toes?” He sighed in relief when he saw the slight movement, though still kept the officer as still as possible for the paramedics to confirm.

The sound of distant sirens grew closer, and Kegan immediately spun around from the noise when he heard the officer groan.

“What? What’s wrong? Where’s the pain?” Kegan asked, ready to dive in at a moment’s notice but Reyes was focused on something past him.

“I’m about the get the lecture of a lifetime. From all three of them.” The man muttered, and Kegan looked back to see the ambulance parked by the sidewalk, three figures hopping out. One of the female paramedics tossed something to the male, who caught it without even looking at her. They were making their way towards them, and Kegan frowned when the male paramedic suddenly froze, eyes widening at their figures on the ground. He could have sworn he didn’t blink, but one second the paramedic was by the ambulance, the next he was crouching down next to Officer Reyes, stethoscope ready and already checking ABCs.

“This isn’t your usual area.” Officer Reyes says in lieu of a greeting, and Kegan unconsciously stepped back to give them some space to work and to avoid the dark aura encircling the male paramedic who looked up, unimpressed.

“I could say the same for you.” There were some medical words exchanged then, and Kegan heard what he guessed to be the Captain spell out a series of tests they’ll do at the hospital. He couldn’t help but feel another wave of anxiety when the C collar got strapped on – that’s usually a bad thing, right? The male paramedic barely spared him a glance before shining a flashlight in Officer Reyes’ eyes.

“Name.”

“Really?”

“Answer the question.”

“Carlos Reyes.”

He stood to the side, watching as the Captain cautiously lifted Reyes’ uniform and frown at the bruising, prodding it skillfully and gauging the officer’s reaction. He could see the male paramedic flinch as if just the sight of the injury caused him insurmountable pain.

“D-does it, um, does it hurt badly?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him, and Kegan really wished he had heeded his mother’s advice to just keep on sticking his foot in his mouth.

“No,” the male paramedic started sarcastically, a TK Strand that Kegan could make out now stitched on his uniform, “He’s just fine and dandy being run over by a four thousand pound moving brick. He can finally check it off his to-do list for the day.” TK scowled, his movements more aggressive than usual when swinging the stethoscope around his neck again, but Kegan could still see how the anger seemed to fade when he worked with the others to prod the officer for other injuries.

He heard a few snickers from the other two female paramedics that were quickly covered by badly hidden coughs, and really wished Mother Nature would offer him a hole to climb into.

Officer Reyes, who was still a little out of it but thankfully very much alive seemed to be on the verge of laughter himself. “TK, stop scaring him. I’m fine.”

Kegan winced, feeling the change in atmosphere before TK’s eyes even narrowed, and if he wasn’t quite frozen in place he would definitely have stumbled a few steps back from avoiding the icy chill that filled the air around them.

“You and I must have very different definitions of ‘fine.’” TK muttered. Kegan felt chills running down his spine at the deadly glint when those eyes passed over him for a millisecond.

It suddenly sent him back to when he was five years old, when he had brought a stray puppy home and learned how to fear a human being for the first time. His father had looked at the puppy like it was the worst thing created by mother nature, before taking it away and he never saw the little golden retriever again.

Now he knew why.

But he also attributed green eyes to his grandmother, who was an entire ball of warmth.

Who knew green eyes that had always felt so comforting whenever his grandmother smothered him with hugs and kisses when he was younger could feel like daggers that could skewer you alive on another person?

“I’m sorry we never got your coffee.” Kegan looked down at Officer Reyes, who was looking up at him apologetically, and Kegan didn’t know whether he should cry or punch something at how unreasonably nice he was being. They weren’t close, but Kegan respected him immensely, and he could tell from the way TK’s shoulders hadn’t relaxed from their tense position that he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I’ve already received the wake-up call of the century. Coffee’s on me next time.” Kegan says lightly, before his eyes widened in horror as TK turned his stormy gaze on him. “Not that I want you to get hit by another car! I’ll gladly take the coffee over any car. And I’ll stop talking. Like right now.”

Yeah, he really needed that bath with the toaster. Maybe he’ll even add in his mother’s hair straightener just to seal the deal.

“Why don’t you sit down?” The Captain, Vega, says kindly, eyes shining with exasperated amusement as she shoots TK a look, and Kegan looks at her, puzzled.

“Why?”

“We need to check you over, too.” The other female paramedic, Gillian, says. She’s looking at him kindly, but doesn’t leave TK’s side as they make sure Carlos is stable for transport.

“But I’m fine? He’s the one who lost consciousness for a few minutes.” Kegan frowns in confusion, and sees TK whirl his head back towards the officer, looking like he wanted to throttle the man.

“And you didn’t think that was vital information?”

“It wasn’t that long!”

“Any length of time being unwillingly unconscious is important, Carlos.”

There was a moment of unspoken words between them and an exchanged look with Captain Vega before Gillian started checking for head injuries. There weren’t any visual signs of trauma, but Kegan has seen enough medical dramas to always expect the impossible.

“And to add on to earlier, no one who gets manhandled by this guy ever ends up fine. The shock may be hiding injuries you can’t feel right now.” TK looked up at him, but not before giving Officer Reyes another glare when he makes a noise in protest.

“I’m not that bad!”

“Tell that to your kitchen counter. And the bedroom wall.” The smallest of smiles lights up TK’s face, and Kegan watches in awe as Officer Reyes grins unabashedly at that.

He didn’t even know the man had any other expressions other than polite smiles and stoic everythings.

“You were on scene for all of them, care to share the grievance?” The soft look they exchanged made something in Kegan’s brain click in place, and he felt himself smiling despite current events.

In the end, they had been lucky. Had Officer Reyes not pushed him away when he did, the accident would have ended up with a black bag and cops knocking on his mother’s doorstep, when the last thing he said to her wasn’t ‘I love you.’ He would be walking away with minor aches, and Officer Reyes-

Had closed his eyes.

He wasn’t the only one that noticed, judging by how TK’s face drained in colour, eyes wide as he tried to get Officer Reyes to open his eyes.

“Carlos? Hey, stay awake – Carlos?! Cap!!” TK immediately reached his fingers to check Carlos’ pulse, and Kegan watched with bated breath as medical jargon sprout out from all three of them, with Captain Vega swearing under her breath when Gillian mentioned something about chest movement.

“We need to get him to a hospital, now.” The other two paramedics immediately lifted Officer Reyes on the stretcher, running towards the ambulance and Kegan could only watch, horrified when TK yelled that they had lost a pulse.

He had been conscious earlier.

He had been talking.

And now he could be –

“Go.”

Kegan startled, turning his head to see Lawrence gently guiding him towards the ambulance.

“I’ll keep an eye on your police car. You’re in no state to drive, and I think you’ll feel better if you go with them.” Lawrence urged, and Kegan didn’t know what else to say but a quick ‘thank you,’ receiving a shoulder squeeze in response before jumping into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics not even batting an eye as they sped off.

They must have gotten Officer Reyes’ pulse back in the time between his hesitancy and the nudge from Lawrence, so Kegan tried his best to focus on the weak but steady rhythm of the heart monitor as TK and Captain Vega worked to make sure his heart kept on beating.

He’s never had a problem being a shadow on the sidelines, and ever since his father’s arrest he’s been walking on eggshells around everything and everyone. Which is why he sat, stock still, and didn’t say a word as Captain Vega quietly murmured how Carlos was stable for now, the words doing nothing to rid the fear still present in TK’s eyes.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the officer laying on the stretcher before them, and Kegan wasn’t sure he had even blinked. Their hands were tightly linked together, and there was a wet shine in his eyes.

“Come back to me.” He heard him whisper, and his own heart bled with guilt and despair as TK bowed his head, seeing his frame shaking as he clung onto a hand that just wouldn’t squeeze back.  

He should have been the one on the stretcher.

Why didn’t they take him instead?

It wasn’t fair.

.

“I’m sorry.”

The hospital waiting area was mostly empty, and he hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe until he heard the doctors give TK and the rest of the 126 who had all arrived one by one to make one big family the all clear. That had been minutes? hours? ago, and Kegan still couldn’t get past the roaring in his ears, the tightness of his chest as they all waited for the officer to wake up.

He was staying overnight for observation, and he faintly remembered being checked over himself in the blurred haze of everything. He couldn’t for the life of him remember who did it, or what questions he was asked, just that he would be walking away with minor bruising and some superficial scratches.

Officer Reyes on the other hand…

He had heard through the grapevine that they had caught the guy, and it was a brief moment of satisfaction that didn’t do much other than give him the relief that he was behind bars instead of behind another wheel of a car.

He looked up for the first time since entering those hospital doors. TK was staring at him with an unreadable expression in his gaze before Kegan could make out the small upward twitch of his lips.

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for,” TK says quietly, wincing a little. “In fact, I’m the one that’s sorry for my attitude back at the scene. I was a little – I was worried.” TK lifted a hand to run through his hair, before giving him a more genuine smile.

Ah, he was starting to see why Officer Reyes always seemed to melt underneath that gaze. The paramedic’s eyes were a couple degrees warmer than they had been earlier, the irises reflecting pools of green in the bright ceiling lights.

“He’s a good cop, and an even better person. He did what he thought was right, and it wasn’t your fault. You were just doing your job. And you were the reason they caught the guy, they found him not long after trying to cross state lines.” Kegan swallowed down the lump in his throat at that, the subtle acknowledgement warming him up inside.

Moving half-way across the globe to escape the scars his father left on their family was one thing, enrolling into the police academy and painstakingly working his ass off to show that he belonged was another. Ever since the arrest, being the son of a notorious serial killer had become his identity. Suddenly, his childhood dreams of becoming an officer of the law meant nothing – all washed down the drain by his father’s blood-soaked hands.

He would never understand why he deserved to live when the people his father killed did not. Years of pondering potential what if’s and self-loathing slowly ate him up inside, and he knew his mother only wanted what was best for him. He didn’t enroll in the police academy to prove anyone a point, to show that their family still had some sort of light worth saving but because he wanted to help. Because he wanted to be better, and he wanted to work for it.

But that didn’t mean the world wasn’t cruel in other ways.

Being labeled as the ‘grim-reaper’ certainly was one, where people assumed that anyone who came into contact with him were automatically doomed to die. It didn’t help that his own father had used it to his advantage, and it was something he would probably never forgive himself for.

And today was just shot to hell with the almost-death of his superior driving him over the edge. He had almost been indirectly responsible for another death of a good man, so when the doctors had given them good news, Kegan almost sobbed in relief. He’s been on the receiving end of looks of anguish, of dismay, of anger and frustration.

Seeing someone look at him with hope and reassurance was new, and hearing words that weren’t laced with malice and false approval made the heavy load of the day lighten a little.

It hadn’t been a good day. And tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed for anyone.

But as Kegan accepted the gentle pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile, he knew that through the dark times, he will find the light.

He wasn’t there yet, and he didn’t know if he would find it at all – but he would try.

And that would have to be enough.

He calls out to TK again, and watches as the man pauses in his steps, turning to look at him curiously.

“So, how long have you two been married?” He asks, a playful grin stretching across his lips, laughing when he sees the paramedic’s cheeks go through the different shades of red in a fascinating colour show. His eyes narrow, but his lips are twitching in amusement, and he waves for Kegan to follow him to Carlos’ recovery room. He’s about to protest, not wanting to intrude, but TK just rolls his eyes and grabs his arm gently to tug him along.

“So, you’re the cheeky new rookie Carlos mentioned,” TK muses, and Kegan raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know I was such a hot topic of conversation,” Kegan responds, not liking how TK’s grin suddenly turns wicked.

“Oh, he told me all about that time you knocked an entire crate of fresh tomatoes onto a perp who tried to escape. The street vendor wasn’t very happy, now was she?” TK winks, and Kegan feels the tables turn, his cheeks lighting on fire at the memory.

No, she certainly was not happy. Getting chased by an elderly woman who spent hours arranging her food stall while holding a broom above her head through the entire marketplace was not something he wanted to re-live. Ever.

“And, to answer your question, we’re not married,” TK continues, his smile turning a touch soft, and Kegan makes a sound of disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He doesn’t dodge the shove he receives at that, and as they close the rest of the distance to Carlos’ room, Kegan smiles.

He could get used to Austin.

[jaskiersvalley]

HEY I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT YOUR FICLET ABOUT GERALT BEING ILLITERATE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS THING IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. I had to put down my phone and whimper when he pulled out the card 🥺 can.. can i humbly request a pt. 2 in the future please? (also,, ive gone through the entirety of your blog too and its. so. good. while ive been chillin’ quarantinin’ reading your fics have been my very favourite thing to do!!) ♥️

Nonnie, you and @ohnomybreadsticks have both given me inspiration for more. It’s gone in a slightly different direction with the whole Wolf School in on the thing now. But, hopefully, you’ll enjoy this addition just as much. Best of luck with the quarantine! I’ll be posting stories fairly regularly for the foreseeable future which will hopefully keep you entertained and out of trouble!

The illiterate Geralt story can be found here.

Jaskier’s School of Self Care for Lost Wolves

It was a known fact that Jaskier loved too much and too freely. Sometimes, he even fell in love with those he hadn’t met but felt they needed love all the same. Which was how he ended up with emotions towards witchers he hadn’t met beyond Geralt occasionally letting a name slip. It wasn’t the same kind of love he held for Geralt, it wasn’t all consuming, he didn’t want to kiss the other witchers silly but it didn’t burn fiercely and involved a lot of throws and warm cuddles. Because, as Jaskier had helped Geralt work on his reading and writing, he realised something. None of the other witchers knew how to do that either. Which was how Jaskier ended up demanding he be allowed to go to Kaer Morhen with Geralt. He had a whole winter to remedy the mistakes their teachers had made. It wouldn’t magically make up for all the neglect but Jaskier would be damned if he didn’t try his best to slowly build scaffolding around and start the process of patching in the holes.

The journey back to the old keep was more hazardous than Jaskier had even dared imagine. It didn’t help that Geralt told him most witchers died on the path, either too naive and new on their way out or too tired or injured on the way back. That was utterly appalling and Jaskier was in half a mind to demand that a new path be devised to make sure all witchers could get home and get the care they needed. Even if Geralt insisted this was for the best, an injured witcher had no prospects after all. Rather than argue, Jaskier kept his mouth shut and began scheming.

There weren’t many witchers left, the school of the wolf was a dying breed but, along with Geralt, three other witchers returned and Jaskier was delighted. It seemed that the whole family was together again. Not that they acted like a family, more like a bunch of pissy cats trying to establish territories because they couldn’t figure out how to share and snuggle. That did disappoint Jaskier, he had a lot more work cut out for him than anticipated. Still, he could put the beginnings of his plan into play.

“What are you doing?” Lambert sounded so utterly offended when he came across Jaskier settled comfortably between Geralt’s legs, both of them stretched out on a fur in front of a fire. Jaskier was holding a book and Geralt was reading aloud in a low, rumbling voice.

“We’re enjoying a good story. Care to join us?”

Snarling, Lambert stalked out of the room and Jaskier shrugged. It was a start, even if it wasn’t an auspicious one. However, it set things into motion because not two days later, Eskel had approached Geralt in the kitchen, softly quizzing him on reading.

“I could teach you,” Jaskier volunteered as soon as he heard, deciding to ignore the wide eyed, almost sheepish look from Eskel.

That was how an hour was set aside each day where Jaskier sat with Eskel, leafing through well loved books that Geralt had used, sounding out words together. After the third time, they ended up with a secretive audience in the form of Lambert lurking just outside the door, listening in. In the end, Jaskier left a book in his usual hiding spot and waited for Lambert to come to him. It took longer than he had anticipated, Jaskier had been shooing Eskel out the room and hanging around to tidy up after their lessons for a good week before the book was thrown by his feet.

“Stop mocking me.” Lambert had his arms crossed defensively over his chest and was glaring in a way that would have sent bolts of fear through most people. Just as well that Jaskier wasn’t like most. He’d seen the posturing, the anger and lashing out in Geralt before, knew all too well what lay below it. With the greatest simplicity, he picked up the book and sat down, opening it and giving Lambert an expectant look. After a beat, the witcher sat down next to him.

That was three witchers on their way to literacy but something still bugged Jaskier. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything because Lambert took matters into his own hand. He had a book with him one breakfast, furiously trying to catch up with the other two and master ‘See Spot Run’ at record speed.

“Why did you never teach us to read?” he asked around a mouthful of eggs, greasy fingers leaving marks on the pages.

A silence descended on the table as eyes turned to Vesemir who, for the first time since they knew him, looked uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t needed,” he began. “A witcher can’t read a monster to death.”

Understanding dawned on Jaskier then and there. He put his fork aside and stood with an “oh you poor dear”. It was barely audible over Vesemir’s mumbled “I was just a fencing instructor.”

Walking around the table, he easily settled on Vesemir’s lap, ignoring all social conventions regarding touch. Looking up at the witcher, he smiled.

“It’s never too late to learn.”

Given the possessive nature of witchers, one would have expected Geralt to get jealous. However, he seemed content for Jaskier to do as he pleased, spending time with the other witchers. All too soon, all four of them were piled together on rugs and chairs around a fire and frowning over their respective books while Jaskier flitted between them, helping and encouraging where it was needed. It was obvious Lambert struggled the most, the letters dancing before his eyes and never quite settling which made him growl in frustration and his book often went flying across the room. Only once did it land in the fire.

“I’ve made a decision,” Jaskier announced during a quiet afternoon. “You’re all coming along wonderfully with reading and I have so much more to offer.”

Four witchers looked at him a little fearfully, wondering if they weren’t enough. They didn’t say anything as Jaskier walked out of the room but the sadness was palpable. Until Jaskier returned with his beloved lute.

“If anyone wants to learn any music, I’m happy to teach them.”

While reading was a chore for Lambert, he took to music like a duck to water when shown songs, able to replicate the chord sequences Jaskier showed him quite quickly. He had a special love of raunchy singing songs. The only sad thing was that there was only one lute or any kind of musical instrument in the whole of Kaer Morhen. Though Jaskier was more than happy to sing along to whatever tune Lambert was picking out. Soon, they had a whole repertoire of witcher drinking songs they would happily belt out while the others thumped the table in time with the beat.

By contrast, Eskel seemed content with the softer side of things. In fact, he had taken a real shine to sonnets and would often be found discussing them in depth with Jaskier. Occasionally, Geralt joined in but he didn’t find as much joy in dissecting whether the “sweet smell of faded summer” was in fact a statement about the passing of seasons or whether it was the soft lament of two lovers growing old.

“What are you doing?” Vesemir’s voice pulled Jaskier from his quiet introspection. It was early, the sun was barely poking out from behind the mountains but he was out in the courtyard with Geralt sat on a barrell and frowning into a book.

“Stretching,” Jaskier replied, sunnier than the weather. “I learned a series of movements to keep the body supple and the mind engaged. It helps me keep up with Geralt.”

The wink he sent Geralt’s way was enough to have him raising the book to hide his blush. While everybody knew what was going on between them, Geralt didn’t like to shamelessly advertise it. He was a private soul by nature.

“Come.” Jaskier beckoned Vesemir. “Let me show you.”

They worked through poses, Jaskier explaining a little about each of them. While they looked simple and easy, Vesemir was surprised to find that they gave the gentlest workout he had ever had. By the end, he was pleasantly tired but not in a way a training fight would have worn him out. It was, for want of a better word, rejuvenating. It had him as close to a smile as he usually got.

Over the course of the week, it went from Jaskier stretching in the courtyard while Geralt read to Jaskier and Vesemir. Until, silently, Eskel joined them one morning, standing next to Vesemir, a little nervous but a smile from Jaskier had him easing into the flow. The next morning, soft lute strums accompanied their exercises as Lambert sat opposite Geralt and his book, playing something gentle. The grateful look Jaskier shot him was enough to get him scowling, even if the music never stopped.

Spring was just around the corner. The witchers were all sat around the cleared dining room table with parchments in front of them, quills in hand. Eskel’s tongue was sticking out the corner of his mouth as he focused on his work.

“Just remember, this means you can keep in touch with each other. Enchanted crows can deliver your letters now.” Jaskier was playing soft music as the others perfected their penmanship. Well, all except Lambert who had taken to doodling, letters getting lost in the pictures. But that was okay, he could always draw his sentiments, the others would understand.

By the time it came to leaving Kaer Morhen, Jaskier was content and happy. He had four witchers who looked so much more self confident in their abilities. Because while he had kept their attention on the arts, it was inevitable that they all bonded. It wasn’t all that unusual to find at least two, if not three of them piling on top of each other with a book, getting lost in adventures they didn’t have to live through. Someone else’s struggles were so much more satisfying when the fear of death and failure didn’t hang above their heads.

Three witchers and a bard stood in the courtyard, horses loaded up as they prepared to leave on their respective paths. Only Vesemir stood in his usual attire and a soft smile creasing his face.

“Safe travels to you all,” he said, meeting the others’ eyes in turn.

“What will you do?” Eskel asked. “You usually accompany us at least some of the way.”

The smile turned into an excited grin and Vesemi gestured vaguely towards the keep. “My path for the year is one that is a tight circle. The library here needs some attention.”

Pride made Jaskier beam. He stepped forward and gave Vesemir a hug. “I expect many a wonderful tale from the library when we’re back next year.”

That sealed it. The next winter, they were all going to return with more stories. Eskel even kept a diary to share with Jaskier in case Geralt was stingy on his details for songs. And, when they all reconvened at the start of the next winter, Vesemir had tomes from the library ready to read stories from while Lambert turned up with his own lute on his back.

[rainnydayzz]

Anastasia - PaTB AU

My turn to hop on this Pinky and The Brain Disney, only this time I’m using a princess that’s Disney on a technicality. Let me introduce to you: Pikastasia.

Okay let’s meet out characters shall we?

Anastasia - Pinky (Pinkastasia)

Dimitri - Brain

Vlad - Yakko 

Sophie - Dot (For obvious reasons Yakko and Dots connections with each other will be based off of their sibling relationship)

Bartok - Wakko

Rasputin - Snowball (Snowputin)

The Dowager Empress Marie - Nora Rita Norita

Phlegmenkoff - Dr. Otto Scratchandsniff

So this is the list of main characters that will be mostly in the film, extras can be whomever. Now I’d also just like to clear up for those still confused about Vlad and Sophie, yes they are in a romantic relationship in the movie and that helps them get to the Dowager, so obviously that’s NOT an option, so their sibling relationship will help them in this case.

I’m not really changing the rest of their names cause frankly I don’t feel like it, so if you want to that’s fine. 

Onto the story premise!

So in this version the main story stays kind of the same. Brain, with his bud Yakko are trying to take over Russia by finding someone to impersonate the long lost princess, Pinkastasia. He’s been trying to find a suitable actor for months now, once he finds the perfect person, they will learn the part, go to Paris, and convince the Dowager and get her reward money. With this they can earn her trust and with their money, take over Russia, and then with Russia’s resources, The World. It was the perfect plan.

Pinky leaves the orphanage (Scratchandsniff kicking him out) like in the film as well. He wanders around for a bit, sings his lovely song and all that Jazz. 

When he makes in to Russia he realizes he doesn’t have all the correct resources to leave Russia and an old lady directs him to a man named The Brain, who might be able to help. She gives him directions to the old palace and he sets off. 

When he makes it the the palace he can’t help but feel it’s familiar to him- but that’s crazy. Of course Pinky has another musical number here and it’s lovely.

The Brain and Yakko hear something from inside the palace and go to investigate. After a bit of cat and mouse, pun very much intended, they catch the intruder, another mouse. Taken aback by the uncanny resemblance of the princess Brain and Yakko are speechless for a moment. But only a moment.

Brain notices quickly that Pinky isn’t the sharpest toll in the shed, and knows he can use that to his advantage. He briefly mentions to Yakko his plan and the two of them agree. After a little persuasion Pinky agrees, after all, he had no memory of his past life- who’s to say he isn’t the princess?

The group make their way from the scene and we see Bartok- er Wakko for the first time talking to himself about the princess, with an odd green vile next to him. It becomes alive at the notion of Pinkastasia still being alive and flys him to the underworld/purgatory. We meet Snowball/Rasputin here. We learn of his curse and his pledge, I don’t exactly remember when he sings his song but that happens eventually.

Pinky, Brain, and Yakko begin their journey to Paris, teaching Pinky how to act and talk like a princess. While Brain and Yakko are giving Pinky information about Pinkastasia’s life, Pinky offers answers and details that they weren’t aware of.

They get on a train, and it goes the same as the film, wrong passports and then a lovely fire filled compartment. They jump for it and continue their journey. 

After the lovely travel song they make it to their ship.

Once on Brain offers Pinky a dress he thought he might like, only because he’d been wearing the same scraps since they met of course. YES OF COURSE THEY DANCE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL. Anyway, when getting ready for bed Pinky notices a lovely music box, wondering why Brain would own something like that he attempted to open it, only it was locked. He put it back and went to sleep.

Pinky has a night terror inflicted by Snowputin and Brain saves him from jumping overboard during the crazy storm.

They finally arrive in Paris where they are quickly greeted by Sophie/Dot. After seeing her brother the two embrace and are let inside. Pinky gives the rundown of everything he’d been told about Pinkastasia and Dot is impressed. When asked how he could’ve possibly escaped the palace during the fire Brain realized he hadn’t told Pinky anything about that and panics. Only to his surprise, Pinky gives as answer, and a correct one at that! Brain had never told anyone about “Opening a wall”. And yet... Then it struck him. He went outside to collect his thoughts.

Yakko comes out happily explaining they could find the Dowager at the ballet later that evening, only to see Brain wasn’t as excited as he ought to be. Brain tells Yakko that Pinky is truly Pinkastasia. He tells Yakko about the “opening wall” and how he was the boy who had done it. Yakko tells Brain he ought to tell Pinky but Brain refuses, this changes nothing.

Dot invites the group to a night out in Paris! They shop and go to expensive restaurants. Pinky purchases a new dress and Brain has a hard time processing his emotions, he figured they were irrelevant, but managed to compliment him anyway. Why? 

The whole night Brain couldn’t stop thinking about how Pinky was really Pinkastasia. He needed to get him to the Dowager as soon as possible- for the money of course.

After the ballet Brain reassures Pinky that everything is going to be okay after noticing how he was on edge. Pinky and Brain make their way through the crowd and Dot loudly exclaims that he is not to enter, with a wink. The Dowager is not impressed however and still refuses to see anyone else about being the princess. This is when Pinky overhears how Brain was notorious for having people impersonate the princess, and how he was probably just in it for the money and it’s not the first time. Pinky’s obviously hurt that he was lied to. Brain tries to explain himself but Pinky won’t hear it and runs off.

Hurt and desperate Brain finds the Dowager’s automobile and pretends to be her driver. After speeding through the streets of Paris with the Dowager screeching at him to let her out, Brain stops in front of where they were staying. He shows the dowager the music box he has, knowing he had acquired it from the palace all those years ago. He said he was the boy that had opened the wall, and bagged her to talk to Pinky. The Dowager was surprised by this development and agreed.

Entering the room Pinky was supposedly in, she found him packing his bags. She offered to talk, but Pinky felt guilty and didn’t want to hurt her any further. However after noticing Pinky’s necklace, the Dowager pulled out the music box. Brain’s music box! The dowager asked to use the necklace and unlocked the music box that played a quiet little tune. The two sang their song and Pinky knew he was the long lost Princess. For real.

We are now in a large plush home with Pinky and the Dowager, they’re talking about the past and its lovely being able to be with each other again. There’s also a quick mention of a ball in celebration for Pinky’s return. 

Pinky is getting dressed up for the event and Brain runs into him as he’s going to see the Dowager. The exchange quick conversation and Brain goes to see Nora. She offers him his money, only for him to refuse it. She’s surprised, he brought Pinky back to her and saved their lives, and yet he wants nothing? She sends him on his way and he again sees Pinky on his way out. Pinky wishes him well with his cash and Brain leaves with a heavy heart, not mentioning he refused the cash. It was easier to leave with Pinky believing he had.

During the ball Pinky feels out of wack. Why wasn’t he happy? This was probably the most important night of his life! He was with his family, there was food and music! Everything was perfect, and yet something wasn’t right. The Dowager wasn’t a fool, and explained that while they were together again, he could still make his own choices. She also mentioned Brain hadn’t taken the reward when Pinky tried to use it against him. Pinky realized Brain must’ve had a change of heart, but if so, why didn’t he say something? 

Suddenly he was distracted by a little dog who had run into the palace only to run back out. He followed the dog through the large maze behind the palace. It was dark and the dog had disappeared. An evil laugh rang through the air as Pinky was officially introduced to Snowputin in all his undead glory. He introduced himself but Pinky had a lingering thought that he’d seen him before. Snowputin confirmed this and explained Pinkastasia was the only reason he was still here, and he had a job to finish. 

Fearing for his life Pinky tried to run, but Snowputin used his powers to change the surrounding scenery, and Pinky realized he was on a stone bridge. Wakko who’d been doing his bidding throughout the entirety of the sketch opted out, claiming it would only end in tears, and went to find his sibs. 

Snowputin began to destroy the bridge, and Pinky with it- until he heard someone call to him. Pinky recognized the voice instantly- Brain had come to save him! Oh good!

Snowputin smiled an wicked smile and shot a spark at a stone hoarse statue (Yes this can be Phar Fignewton if you’d like) Either way it came flying down to Brain, as it had been given wings, and picked him up, only to drop him from a height and come barreling down onto him, though he’d luckily rolled out of the way before he was crushed. 

Snowputin had been distracted long enough for Pinky to climb up the collapsing bridge and tackle Snowputin. Pinky was unfortunately over powered and was sent off the side of the bridge- though he felt his had get caught be someone else. Brain had made his escape from the hoarse and grabbed Pinky. Snowputin was infuriated and hit Brain out of the way, he zapped some more of the bridge and sent it crumbling down on brain, knocking him unconscious, though Pinky had managed to grab onto Snowputin and hit his vile out of his hands. Enraged Snowputin yelled and Pinky to give it back, of course Pinky was furious as well at this point and began to crush the decorated glass. 

Upon destroying the relic, Snowputin began to deteriorate as his soul was fused to it. He screamed and turned to dust. Pinky didn’t have time to process that of course, Brain was hurt. He ran over to him and shook him slightly, thankfully he awoke groggily. Pinky was overjoyed, as was Brain, though his whole body hurt. Brain tried to explain to Pinky how he was sorry about lying to him, but Pinky didn’t want to hear it, he was just glad he had come back and had a change of heart. The two hold on to each other a moment longer, Pinky’s large blue eyes had entranced Brain, his feelings from earlier had come surging back at full force, he felt- well he didn’t know what he felt, but he didn’t want it to go away. 

Pinky lowered his face to meet Brain’s, and the two didn’t separate for several moments. Brain didn’t want to be away from Piny again. And they weren’t, Pinky decided he wanted to make a life for himself, and after finding who he was, he wanted to find out what he could become. Him and Brain decided to go their own way together, and though Brain had a change of heart from this scheme doesn’t mean he completely gave up on his lifelong conquest to take over Russia, or the world. Only this time, Pinky would accompany him, someone had to keep him honest.

So there we have it! The premise of the movie told very poorly through a Tumblr post. I like to think if this were just another sketch Yakko would point out the kiss wasn’t scripted but no one dared bring it up. 

I will also be working on concept sketches with all the characters in their respected outfits, I can’t wait to draw Pinky in all those dresses, especially those pajamas Anastasia wears near the end of the film. 

[ts1989fanatic]

Every Taylor Swift Album Ranked

We revisited each of the singer’s original studio albums and ranked them from best to worst.

FEATURESEvery Taylor Swift Album Ranked

We revisited each of the singer’s original studio albums and ranked them from best to worst.

By Slant Staff on July 6, 2021

Taylor Swift started off as a country artist at a time when the genre was both less respectful and accommodating of the voices of women than at any other point in its storied history. The singer’s first four albums barely scan as country music in a meaningful way, instead embracing her preternatural gifts for pop conventions, and her output has gotten stronger the more openly she’s embraced those skills. In the 15 years since the single “Tim McGraw” launched Swift to country stardom, she’s jettisoned the genre’s ill-fitting signifiers and overcome the limitations of her early recordings—improvements captured in her “Taylor’s Version” re-recordings of those albums as a powerful statement of artistic agency.

As Swift takes an apparent break from new music to re-record those early releases, including Fearless (Taylor’s Version) and this fall’s highly anticipated Red redux, we revisited each of her original studio albums and ranked them from best to worst.

9. Taylor Swift (2006)

Though she was praised for her songwriting right out of the gate, what Swift’s self-titled debut truly shows in hindsight is how diligently she’s worked to hone her craft over the years. Some of her trademarks—her gift for melody, her third-act POV reversals—were already present here, but there’s a sloppiness to the writing that she’s long since cleaned up. Whether that’s emphasizing the wrong syllables of words because she hadn’t quite mastered the meter of language (most notable on “Teardrops on My Guitar”) or mixing metaphors (on “Picture to Burn” and the otherwise catchy “Our Song”), there’s a lack of polish and editing on Taylor Swift

8. Fearless (2008)

Nearly every track on Swift’s sophomore effort, Fearless, builds to a massive pop hook. But while her grasp of song structure at this point in her career suggested an innate talent for how to develop a melody, Fearless also highlights Swift’s then-limited repertoire and lack of creativity in constructing her narratives of doe-eyed infatuations and first loves gone wrong. It’s admirable that she tries to incorporate more sophisticated elements into a few of the songs here, but dancing with or kissing someone in the rain is a default image that crops up with nearly the same distracting frequency as references to princesses, angels, and fairy tales. Fearless, however, just as strongly made the case that Swift had the goods for a long, rich career. The bridge to “Fifteen” includes a great, revealing line about a friend’s lost innocence (“And Abigail gave everything/She had to a boy/Who changed his mind/And we both cried”), while the playful melody of “Hey Stephen” captures the essence of what makes for indelible teen-pop.

7. Speak Now (2010)

Swift’s third album, Speak Now, is problematic in precisely the same ways that its predecessors are, but there isn’t a song here that isn’t an absolute wonder of technical construction. Perhaps even more impressive is Swift’s mastery of song structure. Consider how the instrumentation drops out during the last two words of the hook in “Last Kiss,” allowing the singer’s breathy vocal delivery to bear the entirety of the song’s emotional weight, or how a simple acoustic guitar figure on “Enchanted” slowly crescendos behind each repetition of the line “I was enchanted to meet you.” Unfortunately, the greater complexity and range found in Swift’s sound and in her song constructions doesn’t necessarily translate to her songwriting. Her narrators often seem to lack insight because Swift writes with the point of view that hers is the only story to be told, which makes songs like “Dear John” and “Better Than Revenge” come across as shallow and shortsighted. And though she does vary her phrasing in ways that attempt to mask her limited voice, Swift is still noticeably off-pitch at least once on every song on the album.

6. Red (2012)

Considering that Swift’s previous material was almost always better when she tossed the ill-fitting country signifiers and focused on her uncanny gift for writing pop hooks, Red was a smart, if overdue, move for the singer. The album plays as a survey course in contemporary pop, and Swift is game to try just about anything, from the uninhibited dance-pop of standout “Starlight” to the thundering heartland rock of “Holy Ground.” The tracks that work best are those on which the production is creative and modern in ways that are in service to Swift’s songwriting. The distorted vocal effects and shifts in dynamics on “I Knew You Were Trouble” heighten the sense of frustration that drives the song, and the driving rhythm section on “Holy Ground” reflects Swift’s reminiscence of a lover who “took off faster than a green light, go.” Not all of the songs here are so keenly observed—“State of Grace” and “I Almost Do” lack the specificity that’s one of Swift’s songwriting trademarks, while the title track underwhelms with its train of pedestrian similes and metaphors—but if Red is ultimately too uneven to be a truly great pop album, its highlights were career-best work for Swift at the time.

5. Lover (2019)

Swift’s seventh album, Lover, lacks a unified sonic aesthetic, ostensibly from trying to be something to everyone. The title track, whose lilting rhythm and reverb-soaked drums and vocals are reminiscent of Mazzy Star’s ‘90s gem “Fade Into You,” and the acoustic “Soon You’ll Get Better,” a tribute to Swift’s mother, hark back to the singer’s pre-pop days, while “I Think He Knows” and “False God” evoke Carly Rae Jepsen’s brand of ‘80s R&B-inflected electro-pop. When it comes to things other than boys, though, Swift has always preferred to dip her toes in rather than get soaking wet; her transformation from country teen to pop queen was, after all, a decade in the making. Less gradual was Swift’s shift from political agnostic to liberal advocate. Her once apolitical music is, on Lover, peppered with references to America’s current state of affairs, both thinly veiled (“Death by a Thousand Cuts”) and more overt (“You Need to Calm Down”). “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” however, is her stock in trade, a richly painted narrative punctuated by cool synth washes and pep-rally chants, while “The Archer” is quintessential Swift: wistful, minimalist dream pop that displays her willingness to acknowledge and dismantle her own flaws, triggers, and neuroses.

4. Reputation (2017)

In the run-up to the release of her sixth album, Reputation, Swift was excoriated by fans and foes alike for too often playing the victim. The album’s lyrics only serve to bolster that perception: Swift comes off like a frazzled stay-at-home mom scolding her disobedient children on “Look What You Made Me Do” and “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” But it’s her willingness to portray herself not as a victim, but the villain of her own story that makes Reputation such a fascinatingly thorny glimpse inside the mind of pop’s reigning princess. Swift has proven herself capable of laughing at herself, thereby defusing the criticisms often levied at her, but with Reputation she created a larger-than-life caricature of the petty, vindictive snake she’s been made out to be. By album’s end, Swift assesses her crumbling empire and tattered reputation, discovering redemption in love—only Reputation isn’t so much a rebirth as it is a retreat inward. It marks a shift from the retro-minded pop-rock of 2014’s 1989 toward a harder, more urban aesthetic, and Swift wears the stiff, clattering beats of songs like “…Ready for It?” like body armor.

3. Evermore (2020)

Evermore is at once as confident and complete a statement as Folklore. Certainly, it matters that the two albums were born of the protracted isolation of the Covid-19 pandemic and that collaborators like Bon Iver and the National’s Aaron Dessner figure prominently on both. But Evermore finds Swift digging further into her explorations of narrative voice and shifting points of view, taking bigger risks in trying to discover how the newfound breadth of her songwriting could possibly reconcile with the arc of her career. What makes Evermore an essential addition to her catalog is her willingness to tell others’ stories with the same insight and compassion with which she’s always told her own. And on this album, in particular, the stories she tells are about how her narrators’ choices impact others, often in ways that cause irreparable harm.

2. 1989 (2014)

Swift’s 1989 severed whatever vestiges of her country roots remained on 2012’s Red, replacing acoustic guitars and pedal steel with multi-layered synthscapes, drum machines, and densely packed vocal tracking. Swift, of course, got her start writing astutely observed country ballads, and these songs bolster her trademark knack for lyric-crafting with maximalist, blown-out pop production courtesy of collaborators Max Martin and Jack Antonoff. The album’s standout tracks retain the narrative detail and clever metaphor-building that distinguished Swift’s early songs, even amid the diversions wrought by the aggressive studio production on display throughout. Songs like “I Know Places” ride a reggae swagger and trap-influenced snare beats before launching into a soaring, Pat Benatar-esque chorus. It’s an effortless fusion that, like much of 1989, displays Swift’s willingness to venture outside her comfort zone without much of a safety net, and test out an array of sonic experiments that feel both retro and of the moment.

1. Folklore (2020)

Folklore is neither a culmination of Swift’s career to date nor a pivot in a new direction. She’s doing exactly what she’s always done: offering a collection of incisive, often provocative songs that incorporate authentic, first-person details and leaving others to argue over specific genre signifiers. Song for song, the album finds Swift at a new peak in her command of language. While tracks like “Cardigan” and “Invisible Strings” hinge on protracted metaphors, “Mad Woman” and “Peace” are blunt and plainspoken. In every instance, what’s noteworthy is Swift’s precision in communicating her exact intent. That she employs her long-established songwriting tropes in novel ways is truly the most significant development here. She’s mined this type of melancholy tone before, but never for the full length of an album and certainly never with such a range of perspectives. It isn’t the weight of the subject matter alone that makes Folklore feel so vital—it’s the exemplary caliber of her writing. The album finds Swift living up to all of the praise she earned for her songwriting earlier in career.

ts1989fanatic not sure I 100% agree with their ranking order and some of the snark on reputation is a little OTT but overall it’s not bad

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Been having a weird/off week. But you know what’s made it better?

Spending some more time in Midvale with Supergirl Ep. 6x06, “Prom Again!”

Spoilers!

So! Last week was the fun shenanigans/set-up, THIS WEEK we get the emotional pay-offs and oooooh. So good. So good.

Historically, Supergirl kinda struggles to stick its landing when it comes to paying off its set-ups, but I think this episode is really solid in that regard.  

And thus, we begin! With the forest showdown! And I love it. Love every part of it. Love Kara flying in and freeing Nia and Brainy with her heat vision, love that one of Kenny and Kara’s go-to plays is called ‘Speed Racer’, love Brainy’s whole, ‘my buddy’s gonna BLAST YA if you don’t cooperate’ and Kara just. Threatens the bad guys from the shrubbery.

She’s supposed to be scary and intimidating with the heat vision eyes but dagnabbit...it’s just kind of cute.

Last week I completely forgot to mention how much I love that Kenny and Kara have go-to plays WITH NAMES. (NERDY names at that!) And also that Alex is so exasperated by it.

JUST YOU WAIT, KIDDO. 

Fast forward to the Fortress and everyone’s happy! The day is saved! The timeline is restored! Alex apologizes for being a bit of a grouch!

*cough* understatement *cough*

And Brainy doesn’t get the fist bump, d’awwwww. XD

Nia has a lovely chat with Kara wherein SHE is the elder hero who inspires the youths. Nice. NICE.

And THEN, the first of some good Danvers Sisters scenes...we’ll call this one ‘the mini-van chat.’ 

Kara apologizing about the ‘Zookeeper fight-y thing’ and the GLASSES FIDGET.

Shout out to the writers, who were ON-POINT with the dialogue for both parts, and shout out to the young actresses as well. It’s...honestly uncanny, how well they nailed playing Kara and Alex. 

(I mean, we knew this already, of course, but GOSH. What a wonderful showcase. So, so glad, that we got such a large Midvale story in the final season.)

Right, so, another dialogue highlight from the mini-van chat (but like, not in a silly way. More in a, ‘oh wow that’s very sweet’ way) Alex, to Kara about her choice: ‘It’s the right one because you made it.’

THESE KIDS.

Then we go to Nia and Brainy on the Legion Cruiser!

Nia’s outfit? Outstanding. Brainy’s mask? Admittedly a little distracting because it didn’t look like it was fitting quite right.

But A+ song choice for their dance, show. 

(Really, A+ song choices across the board. You can tell they were absolutely LOVING getting in all those needle drops.) 

And then we discover--ALL IS NOT WELL! THE TIMELINE IS STILL BROKEN!

Cat Grant has released the aliens! And she has been captured! And yet she remains heckin’ fearless!

Love that she calls Mitch ‘Mr. Blue Sky.’

It took me a while to warm up to this ‘new’ version of Cat Grant but this episode really gave her some fun stuff to do and yep, I dig it. Great stuff. 

Meanwhile, back at the prom...

I'm taking this moment to applaud the Supergirl folks for their very nice workarounds for ‘crowded’ locations this season thus far. The episodes have never felt like, overtly obvious in terms of Covid protocol impacts (I mean there are a few scenes here and there where you’re like, ‘oh, yeah, this is set up in this specific way to probably account for some production changes) but I’ve never felt that the episodes are losing anything, you know?

Case in point! Two episodes, set in a crowded high school! But most of the stuff takes place before/between classes, or outside!

(Specifically enjoyed all the outdoor stuff and natural lighting. It’s not quite the same as that LA sunshine, but. Still nice.)  

Anyways, in “Prom Again!” the action/discussions are set in the hallways/classrooms outside of the actual Prom. Inobtrusive! Makes sense for the story! Doesn’t compromise!

Gold stars for everyone. 

Kara and Kenny are BOTH unrelentingly cheesy--Kara even says as much--and it’s wonderful.

‘Hey Stargazer.’ Kara, you smooth operator you.

Shout out to Kenny’s bowtie, it’s great.

...Shout out to Kenny in general.

(Like, Will is great, but he’s got a lot to live up to, now.)

So FURTHER PROOF THAT THE TIMELINE IS BUSTED: Kara is going to stay in Midvale!

:O

Me, knowing full well that Kara has to go to National City, but also being...just a liiiiittle bit team Kenny: 

And then...THE METEOR!

That Kara just. Body-slams.

It reminded me of another Danvers, who also body-slams some space stuff:

But UNLIKE Kara’s cross-company cousin, this particular move does not end well!

Because there’s KRYPTONITE! And also, a CLOAKED SPACESHIP, BLOCKING THE FALLING METEOR DEBRIS! And, you know, ALIEN HUNTERS THREATENING HIGH SCHOOLERS! And Kenny SACRIFICES HIMSELF FOR KARA!

(Well, okay. It’s tonight but you get the idea.)

Poor, sweet Kenny. Who feels WAY out of his depth as he’s imprisoned alongside Cat on the alien ship...but it does bring us one of her patented ‘tough love pep talks.’ Wherein she calls Kenny brilliant.

And also, Kendall.

Never change, Cat. Never change.

Also, “Go, go.”

Okay, some more rapid fire specifics that I enjoyed so that this list doesn’t get...too? Long? ...No promises.

Smol Kara squaring her shoulders in that classic Kara Super Pose! 

Alex being able to pick a lock!

Kara using the reflected sunlight from the moon to heal!

‘That’s an 80% failure rate’ ‘Oh yes it’s terrible.’

The scene where the police have Kara, and Alex comes rushing out all, ‘that’s my sister!’ and Kara’s gonna just RISK EVERYTHING to fix this?

100/10, excellent, love to see that Danvers Sisters angst in the Worst Timeline. Also? Alex’s desperate little headshake, silently pleading for Kara to NOT DO THE THING???? Devastating. In the best way.

‘The world will know that name...Keira.’ 

No Plutonian Landshark sightings!?!? Not even a graphic on a computer screen? FOR SHAME!

(Personally, I’m imaging that they look like Jeff, pictured below.)

Kara stowing away on the Cruiser, and her very cute, ‘Don’t be mad!’

Her entire speech about her future--She’s just seventeen! She doesn’t have her driver’s license yet! Eliza’s only let her do the laundry once! She’s not even sure she can make rice!

(Eliza, I love you, but for Pete’s sake, let your kid do her own laundry.) 

Brainy and Kara trying to play it cool upon being discovered by Kenny and Alex! 

Their story involving an excess of formal wear!

Nia inspiring Cat to start CatCo, and telling her she’s CAT FREAKIN’ GRANT!

“If you say Lois Lane I will expire.”

Wait, did I mention the lucid dreaming power yet? ...Nia’s lucid dreaming power!

The entirety of Kara and Kenny’s talk in the gym!

Kara in the Worst Timeline tell Alex, ‘you don’t have to shout’. And then in the Fixed Timeline: ‘inside voice please.’

And she quotes Monty Python that lil GOOBER.

THE WHOLE EPISODE(S) was a GOSHDARN DELIGHT, I TELL YA. (Did I say that last week? I might’ve said that last week, but I don’t care.)

And now, some slightly more in-depth, overall thoughts:

So, How ‘Bout Them Danvers: Not surprisingly, the girls end up in, if not the exact same place as the end of “Midvale”, then pretty darn close. I’m trying to avoid, like. All of fandom, these days, but unfortunately, the bad takes are numerous, and often untagged. So I did see a bunch of people insisting that Kenny living ‘ruined the Danvers’ relationship’ and that the show is ‘taking away everything that makes Kara Kara’

To which I say:

In the broadest terms, what needs to happen by episode’s end to match up with “Midvale”, and prep the kiddos for the stuff that happens in the Pilot - Kara needs to put the aspirations of super-ing on the backburner, and Alex needs to like. Not hate Kara, but also be committed to helping Kara keep her secret, you know...secret. 

All of these things are set up. I repeat: All. Of. Them.

And Kenny didn’t have to die!

(I will admit, I chuckled that they so blatantly teased an untimely demise for him...because I know it will annoy select corners of fandom.

Muhahahahaha.)

But anyways, back to those key ingredients for making a ‘Danvers Sisters in the same emotional place they were in @ Midvale’s end’ soup: Alex deals with that simmering resentment. Seeing Kara handle herself well in a super-ing context gives her that little, ‘hey, this isn’t so bad!’ outlook.

BUT INTERESTINGLY, in the Fixed Timeline, Alex and Kara don’t have that chat in the supply room, where Alex is like. ‘You CANNOT reveal your powers, BAD THINGS will happen if you do.’ 

That is saved for the Pilot!*

MEANWHILE. The Kara ingredients! She puts super-ing on hold. 

Her chat with Kenny functions as a replacement for her chat with J’onn-as-Not!Alura, in the sense that it’s here that she reveals that she didn’t choose to come to Midvale, she didn’t choose these powers. 

(...I can already sense fandom using those lines to prove their end-of-series theories and like. Ugh. Ugh.) 

But anyways. It’s also here that we get shades of Pilot!Kara, what with the season one conflict of being Super vs. being normal. 

It’s ALL THE SAME STUFF.

Fandom needs to like. Chill. 

And their (fake) concern for Kara’s characterization is entirely misplaced, because this was a really wonderful showcase for Kara in particular.

Like. The first episode was really Nia’s time to shine, and we still got solid Brainy and Nia action in this episode!

But man. That good Kara content.

THE CONTENT I CRAVE!

So speaking of good Kara content in particular, I LOVED Kara’s prom dress. It's got both a SKIRT. AND PANTS!

Amazing.

I know nothing of fashion, but it was very cute, very girly, and okay. Though I hate the comic, the one thing I actually liked about Future State is Kara’s costume. This was similar!

(Thank goodness it looked nothing like the prom dress from Rebirth. That...was a bit of a train wreck.)

(Look, not all comic artists are great clothes designers, it’s just how it is.)

We see the empowerment theme come up with Kara inspiring Kenny; he describes her as ‘an amazing light in a world of darkness’ and tells her that, ‘you changed me, Kara Zor-El.’

We love to see it. 

They also agree that stargazing and Monty Python make for the perfect prom these absolute NERDS I love them.

*Quick wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey note WRT making this episode ‘fit’ with the Pilot: I’m not saying that it 100% does. There’s already the change with the Kryptonite, and the added info/awareness of the DEO. 

Those little changes, though, don’t really impact the overall arc of Kara and Alex, the way the emotional stuff might. 

Thus! The ‘Pilot’ of Earth Prime, and in fact, the ENTIRETY of the show’s run thus far most likely involved little differences throughout, but the emotional core is very close, if not the exact same.

BUT EITHER WAY, it doesn’t matter, because our Kara and Alex are still our Kara and Alex thanks to the multiple sets of memories! 

(So all of fandom’s freaking out is for naught. As it almost always is.) 

I bring this up because, again, as much as I talk about setting stuff up for where we find Kara six years from now--this Kara is a little different! She comes across as more confident, something Izabela Vidovic mentioned in an interview, when discussing her approach to playing Kara this time around. 

And now, Alex: Admittedly, she gets less focus as like, a solo-entity in these episodes--she really is there to serve the more Kara-centric plot. Personally, it didn’t bother me too much because outside of these flashback episodes, Alex has had some solid development and screen time, so. It balances out.

And the scenes we did get with those 2? Solid. Top tier. There was even a couch scene! Like, technically. Because there was a couch in the supply room. XD  

Spotlight on Kenny: fandom kinda loves to insist that all the men on Supergirl are trash, because, ya know. 'Feminism’ or whatever. It’s ships, it’s always ships. But, in fact! The dudes on Supergirl? Are actually wonderful! And Kenny is another example of a guy who isn’t afraid to be emotionally vulnerable, who 1000% supports Kara, but is also like. His own person. 

GOOD JOB, SHOW. GOOD JOB.

Brainy too, had some really nice stuff in terms of dealing with his emotions!

And it’s Brainy who gives us our closing line, as Nia asks him how he’s feeling now that they’ve accomplished their mission:

“Hopeful.”

NOICE.

In conclusion! “Prom Night” and “Prom Again!” were EXCELLENT! They had heart! They had stakes! They had the promised time-travel do-over alluded to in the titles! Outstanding performances from the entire cast! Tthe ‘young’ versions of characters in particular! And I WILL be watching these episodes on repeat throughout the three-month hiatus! XD

But before the Super Friends take their break: NEXT WEEK! The Quest for Kara Concludes!!!

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Helping Hands - Chapter 5

Series Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: Training with Nat doesn’t go as planned, and Fury’s plan is put to the test.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of previous abuse and neglect, minor panic attack

A/N: The gif will make sense. :)

“Okay, stand with your feet about shoulder-width apart, and turn a bit to the side. Yeah, that’s it. Keep your thumbs on the outside of your fists. Now, use the momentum of turning your torso to put some weight behind your fist, and punch through the bag.”

The bandages wrapped over Haley’s knuckles and wrists were uncomfortable with the sweat that slicked over her skin. She couldn’t remember ever exercising, ever having a cause to break a sweat or work so hard in her life. Sure, Steve and Sam were sparring on the other side of the gym, the sounds of their blows deafening, acting as if this was just another day at the office. And for them, it was. But, to someone unused to the strain, it proved a monumental effort to fight the fatigue trembling in her limbs as she delivered punch after punch to the heavy bag that Nat supported from behind.

Haley had healed completely from her adopted wound in the span of several days - not too terribly long considering Loki had stopped her from taking the entirety of Nat’s injury. Natasha, on the other hand, was still taking it easy. Which, for an Avenger, apparently meant settling for running several miles on a treadmill and lifting her body weight in dumbells instead of kicking ass with Clint.

“You can’t walk around in tape all day every day, so it’ll hurt more, when - if, it happens.”

And that little slip-up made Haley’s entire body seize, her throbbing hands spread out against the woven fabric of the bag to tether her to reality. When. When she was going to have to face Mr. Shaw again. That’s what she was preparing for, beating up a bag of sand with arms as thick and tough as overcooked spaghetti.

“Ah shit, Hales, I’m sorry.”

Small fingers clutched hers after she dropped to her knees on the cushioned, sticky mat beneath her. She stared at them, one set littered with callouses and scars, the other flushed, but baby soft and lined with blue-green veins beneath almost translucent skin. Panic constricted around her chest so that it felt like her rapidly drumming heart would burst through her ribcage and tear her struggling lungs into ribbons with the fragments left behind.

“He’s on a mission.”

“If we don’t call him he’s gonna be pissed. You wanna deal with that?”

Cool glass pressed against her ear.

“Are you alright?”

The rough timbre of Loki’s voice didn’t sound quite right through the small speaker of the phone. She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m okay.”

An obnoxious tone sounded through the phone, and she tilted her head away from it with a grimace, closing her eyes. Everything was fine. She was in Stark Tower. She was surrounded by friends who would protect her. Mr. Shaw couldn’t reach her here.

“Darling.”

The hands holding hers retreated, replaced in an instant by a warmer, larger pair not a moment later. Deft fingers worked at unraveling the bandages protecting her knuckles. Her eyes opened to see Loki kneeling in front of her, still dressed in his leather armor.

All she could think to mumble out was, “How’d you get here so fast.”

Loki tossed the wrappings away, lifting her chin up with two fingers to thoroughly examine the distraught expression on her face. “Magic.”

The fear slowly seeped out of her at his attentions but she still couldn’t catch her breath or calm her speeding heart. Strangely, she couldn’t help but long to rub away the lines that crinkled between his brows. “You were on a mission. You’ll get in trouble.”

“You needed me.” He stood up and helped her to her feet with his hold on her hands. He didn’t let them go after she was standing, maintaining his firm grip as he led her out of the room. “You need a sports beverage and a snack. It wouldn’t do for you to overwork yourself before this evening.”

~

Had she overworked herself, or was she destined to feel this terrible regardless of her disastrous session with Nat?

Even with the soothing feeling of makeup smoothing over her skin and a brush running through her hair (there wasn’t much else to do with what little length she had), she couldn’t ignore the anxiety that weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach. It rolled through her and threatened to force itself around the lump in her throat. But practice made perfect, and she’d had years of hiding many a negative emotion and sensation.

“If you don’t stop sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, I’m gonna make you look like a clown.” Nat bopped her cheek lightly with the fluffy end of a makeup brush.

“Sorry.”

A brush painted over her lips in long, soft strokes. “We’ll all keep an eye on you. Fury has backup waiting on the floors just above and below. Even Loki is going to be there. You won’t be alone.”

All those words were meant to reassure her. But when she opened her eyes after shimmying into the dress Wanda had loaned her, she felt anything but confident in how the evening was going to go.

“I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

The crimson dress molded to her skin, dipping down in the back to show a considerable amount of her spine. Lace encased her arms to her wrists and all she wanted to do was tug the sleeves down so she could grasp the material in her palms. She’d never shown so much skin. Did anyone really need to see the lower halves of her thighs? That was hardly her most pressing concern, however, when she factored in her inability to walk in the black heels Nat had helped her wobble into. She felt like a toddler, desperately attempting to balance with each step.

“That’s the point. Come on, the faster we get you out there the faster this is all done with.”

It took every ounce of courage that she had within her to step into the spacious ballroom several floors down from their living quarters. The lights, scattered around the room in glowing columns and hanging from the ceiling in interesting modern fixtures, were just warm enough to contrast the black marble floor and dark walls. The music from the DJ vibrated through her bones to ratchet up her heartbeat until it matched the thudding bass. More people than she had ever seen in her life milled about, either dancing or talking or some combination of the two.

Tony had told her to make sure to be seen by as many people as possible. What did that entail? How was she supposed to act natural, while still making sure she was noticed, when she didn’t even know what ‘natural’ was? She’d never been to a party before!

“Perhaps you should first procure a drink?”

She stopped staring at a stunning woman in a dress that looked to be made out starlight, glancing quickly over at the owner of the naggingly familiar voice. It had sounded just enough like Loki to pique her interest, although there was a softness to the baritone that didn’t quite fit. Nor did the owner of the lovely accented suggestion. The man peering at her through brown, thin-rimmed glasses shot her a mischievous grin. He had auburn hair that curled at the nape of his neck, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache that covered the rosy skin of his jaw.

But the eyes. Even though they were a twinkling light blue, she’d recognize that playful and earnest expression anywhere.

“Loki?”

He closed the remaining distance between them, steering her toward one of the many bars set up around the edges of the room with a gentle hand on her exposed middle back. It was as if all she could focus on was his touch pouring heat through her skin to flow through her like molten sunlight. Even walking was a bit easier with him brushing against her side, as if he lent her a bit of his strength and surety while guiding her along.

“I desired to be close to you for the evening, and my standard appearance tends to draw more attention than would suit the delicacy of the mission,” he explained quietly, his head ducked down low so his words were delivered just above her ear.

Ignoring the flush that spread up her neck at his admission - he just wanted to protect her - she settled her trembling hands on the gleaming dark wood of the bar. She took the short, wide-mouthed glass that he’d ordered, crinkling her nose at the slightly bitter condensation that tickled against her lips. “What is this?”

“Sparkling water. It will appear as if you are imbibing, but you will maintain a level head.” He angled his head toward the dance floor. “I will be close behind.”

At his clear suggestion that she continue on with the plan, she started moving about the room, cracking a smile that didn’t reach her eyes whenever she made eye contact with someone. The bitter drink bubbled unhappily in her stomach, and she couldn’t stop herself from fiddling with the orange slice perched on the rim. It was expected for the Avengers to attend the party, so she was safe in acknowledging them whenever they’d cross paths. A friendly nod from Bucky, a squeeze of her hand from Natasha, a quick hug around her shoulders from Tony and a smile from Pepper, they all helped to tamp down the edge of her nerves.

She caught the barest hint of Loki’s voice, sweetened with his disguise, at random intervals. Pleasant laughter and an airy chuckle would meet her ears over the sounds of the party, reassuring her that he was keeping his promise of remaining closeby. How she longed to change her appearance as he could, melt into the skin of another, to avoid it all and enjoy the evening. Perhaps learn how to dance…

“Your drink seems to be empty, sweetheart. Care for another?”

She snapped out of her self-pitying reverie, sighing heavily at the waiter who offered her a flute of sparkling golden liquid. She suspected it to be alcohol, but maybe a sip wouldn’t hurt to calm her down?

“Thanks.”

The crystal was refreshingly cool grasped in her hands. She sank against the wall behind her, lifting it to her rouge-painted lips to take a drink, when it was ripped from her grip.

“Don’t drink that,” Loki urged her, shielding her from view of the room with his body placed squarely in front of her. He cut his eyes at the drink between them, turning it in his grasp and sniffing the contents.

Tony, with Pepper right behind him, quickly skirted through the unaware guests, coming up to Loki’s other side with alert, tight eyes and hands flexing in front of him. “What’d he look like?”

“White button-up shirt, but it wasn’t pressed like your staff. Fair skin, brown hair and eyes, with scuffed black trainers and a skinny black tie. Not a bow tie.” Loki handed the glass off to Stark, searching Haley’s face with jaw set.

“Fury’s on it. Good catch there, Reindeer Games. Hales, you okay?”

Why would Loki keep her from trying the drink? What could’ve been in there? Poison? Drugs? Mr. Shaw didn’t like to discuss business in front of her, but she knew that Hydra had created some awful weapons that could be easily hidden in a bit of liquid. 

Oh.

They’d found her. Was he here? Here to drag her back to another dank room, living out her days in endless agony and darkness, taking his injuries so he could commit more atrocities in the world? Her eyes skittered over the guests frantically even as the room seemed to fold in around her. Her quick breaths did nothing to take in any oxygen into her constricted lungs and she gasped, curling in over her arms wrapped around her stomach. She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t.

The striped blue fabric of Loki’s suit was the last thing she saw before he straightened her up with steady hands on her shoulders, tugging her into him until her face was pressed into his neck, instructing her to close her eyes.

Coldness, sharper than anything she’d ever felt before, rushed over her for a split second before the sounds of the party instantly stopped. The resulting silence was so jarring that she backed away from Loki, expecting to hit the wall of the ballroom; instead, her knees touched the lip of her favorite couch in the recreation area. She sank down onto it, focusing on slowing her breathing and her heart rate as she stared up at the bespeckled version of her closest friend.

“How can I assist you?” he asked, kneeling down in front of her, his hands hovering in the space between him and her knees.

Only when the worried scrunch of his brows blurred did she realize that tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes. She clenched them tight, refusing to give in to her panic, waving her hands in his general direction. “Can you just, be you, again? It’s too weird. I need you.”

More silence beyond her ragged breaths. And then gloriously soft fabric slipped over one arm, around her back, and then over the other. Her hoodie. She opened her eyes to watch Loki adjusting the cuffs around her wrists, tugging them down until her fingers could close over the edges,  before sitting on the couch next to her. He looked like himself again, handsome and dark with piercing green eyes that searched her face with so much concern she thought her heard might split in two.

“I could fetch a bit of water, or chocolate. Would you prefer to get out of that dress and into something more comfortable? I promise that you are safe-”

His mouth hung open, all speech ceasing when she reached out to take his hand into her lap, lacing their fingers together. She needed the physical reminder of his presence. The warmth of his grasp and the gentle rub of his thumb over the thin skin on the back of her hand - initiated after a few moments further of him staring - did more to calm her than anything else.

“Can we just sit like this for a minute?” She hated how she sounded, weak and shaky to match the knocking of her knees, but it couldn’t be helped. 

Too close. They had gotten too close and he wasn’t close enough.

He shifted and let out a deep breath. Their sides pressed together from thigh to shoulder. His other hand rested over theirs and squeezed tenderly. “Anything you wish.”

~

Series taglist: @kneel-before-queen-loki @alexakeyloveloki @from-hel-i-with-love @cleocc @cateyes315 @coldbookworm @rjohnson1280 @bambi-butt @skiddleskaddle @lokis-high-priestess @myraiswack @ilovetardis @midgardian-mistress @lisaspageofstuff @kathrynwynterbourne @bluestaratsunrise

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette​ @thathedonistgirl​ @lokixme​

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic​ @myoxisbroken​ @brokenthelovely​ @myworddump @polireader​ @wiczer​ @littleredstarfish​ @the-broken-angel-13​ @arch-venus25​ @xxloki81xx​ @jessiejunebug​ @tinchentitri​ @sllooney​ @devilbat​ @vikkleinpaul​ @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses​ @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian​ @toozmanykids​ @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius​ @sabine-leo​ @lovesmesomehiddles​ @peterman-spideyparker​ @wegingerangelica​ @bluefrenchfries604​ @catsladen @snoopy3000​ @silverswordthekilljoy​ @villainousshakespeare​

[shawtygonemad]

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 9

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

The last time we saw our dynamic duo they had picked up a stray from Utah. Adele was only with them for one adventure, before she almost got them killed. She also got an information port embedded into her forehead which is a big taboo. You never try and change the future or past in a dramatic way. So, the Doctor once again had to save the day. Needless to say, Adele was dumped back off at her place once they were out of danger.

Ross and the Doctor were currently relaxing in the control room throwing around ideas on which place they should explore next. The Doctor was sitting on the jumper rolling a ball between her hands.

"How about the planet of Junifer? It's really beautiful this time of year. They have one of the best flower festivals in the universe," she suggested with a smile.

Ross shook his head. He seemed really off this morning. She had asked him earlier if anything was the matter. He had denied that something was wrong. The Doctor left it at that assuming he had wanted his space. However, this was the fifth place that he had rejected.

"Alright. Is there any place that you're wanting to go to," she asked.

"Well… there is one place I've been thinking a lot about. Well it's more of a time rather than a place," He started. "I want to meet my dad. Peter Alan Tyler. The greatest man in the world. Born 15th September 1954. My mum would always take out a photo album and start telling me about him. I wasn't old enough to remember him. He died on 1987, 7th of November. It was the day that Stuart Hoskins and Sarah Clarke got married. That what mum always said. So I was thinking, could we, could we go and see my dad when he was alive," he said somberly.

"Where's this come from, all of a sudden," she furrowed her brows at him.

"All right then, if we can't, if it goes against the laws of time or something, then never mind, just leave it," he mumbled as he began to absentmindedly touch knobs on the TARDIS's console.

The Doctor furrowed her brows as she studied her favorite pink and yellow human. This was a simple adventure. There's nothing wrong with Ross wanted to see his dad alive. She was just a bit worried how Ross would take in the event. Humans seem to be much more emotional than Time Lords.

"No, I can do anything. I'm just worried about you," she gazed at her companion with concerned eyes.

"I want to see him," Ross confirmed.

"Your wish is my command," The Doctor smiled. "But be careful what you wish for."

The Time Lord hopped up onto her feet and began her dance around the console, hitting buttons, twisting knobs, pulling levers. This console is originally meant for at least 8 Time Lords to operate her. It was miracle the Doctor was able to do it by herself. Although she has had many years of practice under her belt now.

The pair arrived just in time for the wedding ceremony. They didn't want to be noticed to much in case people came asking questions, so they sat in the back pew. It wasn't very formal. Jackie didn't even wear a white dress. She was in a baby pink pencil skirt with a matching blouse and blazer. As she walked down the aisle towards Peter she seemed to be a mixture of happiness, nerves, and dare she say doubt. Peter, on the other hand, was all nerves.

"Repeat after me. I, Peter Alan Tyler, take you, Jacqueline Angela Suzette Prentice…" The officiant spoke.

"I, Peter Alan Tyler, take you, Jacqueline Angela Suzanne…" Everyone's eyes grew large with the mix up. Peter tried to correct himself but dug himself an even further hole. "Suzanne Anita…"

"That wasn't even remotely close," The Doctor thought. "I never thought I would say this, but poor Jackie. This bloke must have been sneaking around behind her back. And yet she still wants to marry him."

All eyes were on Jackie now, awaiting her response. "Oh, just carry on. It's good enough for Lady Di."

The Doctor grinned. Of course, it was such a Jackie response.

"I thought he's be taller," Ross whispered.

After the ceremony, they snuck out before the newly bride and groom could make their rounds greeting all of their guests and thanking them. They were back in the TARDIS once again.

"Well that was fun, wasn't it?" the Doctor grinned as she practically skipped around the console. She had hoped this would make her little human feel a little bit better. She hated it when he was feeling down.

Ross moved towards the Doctor slow and hesitantly. He still wore a frown on his face. His eyes were trained on the ground.

"I- I remember mum telling me that no one was there. When he died that is. It was a hit and run driver. Never found out who. He was dead when the ambulance got there," Ross finally looked up and met the Doctor's gaze. "I want to be that someone."

The Time Lord of course gave in. "November the 7th?"

"1987," he finished.

The Doctor flipped some switches and the Time Rotor once again started up. Once they landed the TARDIS parked herself between a telephone junction box and a road sign by Park Railings. They stepped outside to the sound of Never Can Say Goodbye playing off in the distance. The Doctor took a deep breath in and looked around.

"It's so weird. The day my father died. I thought I'd be all grim and stormy. It's just an ordinary day," Ross softly spoke and also gazed around.

"The past is another country. 1987's just the Isle of Wight," she looked at her companion. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah," he quickly replied and nodded his head. He also threw the Doctor a reassured smile.

"Alright then. Off we go," she spoke with a smile before walking off.

A few blocks away Ross stopped and stared at a road with minor disbelief.

"This is it. Jordan Road. He was late. He'd been getting a wedding present, a vase." He started to choke up a little bit. "Mum always said, 'that stupid vase'."

Just then a car rounded the corner. It was Peter.

Ross continued narrating the scene unfolding before them.

"He got out of his car…" The car pulled up to the curb. "And crossed the road…" He watched with slight horror. "Oh God, this is it."

The Doctor wrapped Ross's hand with hers and held it as Peter got out of his car. She wanted to comfort Ross that was the only subtle way she could do it.

The two watched in silence. As Peter got out he was instantly hit but the driver. Ross shut his eyes during the impact. The car zoomed away leaving Peter and the vase lying broken in the street. The Doctor turned to Ross.

"Go to him. Quick."

Ross stood there frozen in horror. Tears formed in his eyes as he watched his father slow die in the street.

"I can't…" he softly whispered.

Once the Doctor realized that he was in shock and not going to his father's aid, she slowly steered him away. The went around the corner and sat on the ground with their backs against the brick wall. The Doctor held Ross's hand slowly running her thumb over the back of it comfortingly until Ross snapped out of his daze. The ambulances sirens could be heard arriving.

"It's too late now. By the time the ambulance got there, he was dead." Ross looked at the Doctor sorrowfully, with tears running down his cheeks. It pained the Doctor to see him like this. "He can't die alone. Can I try again?"

She caved once more to please her little human.

The Doctor and Ross hide behind the corner to see themselves waiting by the curbside.

"Right, that's the first you and me. It's a very bad idea, two sets of us being here at the same time. Just be careful they don't see us. Wait till she leads him off, then go to your dad," the Doctor informed him. Peter got out of his car.

"Oh God, this is it," Past Ross said.

"I can't do this," Present Ross spoke, slightly panicked.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but this is the last time that we can be here," the Doctor told him.

Ross suddenly sprinted towards Peter as he was getting out of his car.

"Ross! No!" The Doctor yelled.

Ross wrapped his arms around his father and threw both of them off to the side of the road out of the way of the driver. The previous Doctor and Ross disappeared. Oh, no no no! This was not good!

The doctor didn't notice Peter pointing at her. She was too busy seething. Stupid, Stupid humans! This was all a ploy, wasn't it? Have her take him back just so he could save his father's life! Was he planning this all along? Buddy on up to her and then convince her to take him here. It's no bloody wonder he hoped on in the TARDIS as soon as he said that it could travel back in time.

The Doctor hadn't said a single word the entire way to the Tyler's flat. Even once they were inside and Peter started to yammer on about some invention. The Doctor waited until she was alone with Ross in the living room. Her arms were folded across her chest and she leaned against the door frame. She watched Ross analyzing the place and continue to speak about unimportant things in the apartment like his father's bowling trophy of health drinks. The Doctor could honestly care less and glared at Ross completely cross.

"'Kay, look, I'll tell him you're not my girlfriend," he said thinking that's why she was so annoyed. How could this daft human no understand the entirety of this situation?! How could he? He was just a stupid little human.

"When we met, I said travel with me in space. You said no. Then I said time machine," she spoke trying to cover the hurt in her voice.

"It wasn't some big plan. I just saw it happening and I thought…I can stop it," Ross defended himself.

The Doctor gave herself a sad smile. "I did it again. I picked another stupid ape. I should've known. It's not about showing you the universe. It never is. It's about the universe doing something for you."

"So it's okay when you go to other times, and you save people's lives, but not when it's me saving my dad-"

"I know what I'm doing! You don't!" She cut him off. "Two sets of us being there made that a very vulnerable point," she tried to explain.

"But he's alive!"

"My ENTIRE planet died. My family! Do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?"

"But it's not like I've changed history. Not much. I mean he's never going to be a world leader. He's not going to start World War Three or anything," he tried to rationalize.

"Ross, there's a man alive in the world who wasn't alive before. An ordinary man. That's the most important thing in creation. The whole world's different because he's alive," she kept trying to explain to him.

"What, would you rather him dead?"

"I'm not saying that," she shook her head in annoyance.

"No, I get it! For once you're not the most important person in my life," he told her full of bitter.

This struck a pain in her chest. She, at one point, was the most important person in Ross Tyler's life. Above Mickey, her mum, everyone. And now she wasn't. It hurt so much. It angers her that it hurts so much. Why does she feel this way? Why did she have to form feelings for this ape? She should know by now that they all hurt her. They all leave her in the end. Why did she think that this one was any different?

"Let's see how you get on without me, then. Give me the key." She held her hand out. "The TARDIS key. If I'm so insignificant, give it me back," It truly pained her to say these words, but she put up her cool, stony look so he couldn't see what he had done to her.

"Alright then, I will," he said and placed the key into her hand.

"You got what you wanted, so that's goodbye then," she spoke coolly, before turning around and began to leave.

"You don't scare me," he cut her off and stood in front of her. "I know how sad you are. You'll be back in a minute, or you'll hang around outside the Tardis waiting for me. And I'll make you wait a long time," he yelled after her.

She quickly left the flat. She didn't want him to see a truly sad she was. Her pace was quick as she walked down the sidewalk towards the TARDIS. Hot tears were forming in her eyes. She angrily wiped them away. Why was she crying over a stupid ape? She very rarely cried, and she was not going to start crying over Ross!

The TARDIS was in sight. Just as she reached it a cold wind blew past right. She felt as if something was watching her. She looked up towards the sky to find nothing there. She shook her head as she unlocked the door and started to push open the door. That familiar hum and warm was gone. Throwing the doors open she found that the inside of the TARDIS was gone! Now it was just an ordinary telephone booth. She must have been too busy arguing with Ross and feeling sorry for herself that she didn't notice the connection to her old friend had disappeared. This was not good! Everyone was in trouble.

"Ross!" She yelled before sprinting off towards the church the wedding was being held at. The flat would be empty by the time she got there. An old church might actually be the best place to be in a situation like this. She ran as fast as she could. She just hoped that she would make it in time.

As she turned the corner leading to the church she saw Ross standing on the side walk along with the bride, bridesmaids, Peter, and more. They all are in immediate danger.

"Ross!" Ross turned around and smiled knowingly at the Doctor assuming she came back because she missed him. "Get in the church!" She yelled. Ross's smile fell.

Just then they both looked into the sky to see a large creature with bat-like wings appear. It was very devilish looking. The reaper hissed and started to swoop in on Ross. He cried out in fear as it almost latched its talons onto him. The Doctor quickly took action and pushed them both onto the ground and out of the reaper's grab.

"Get in the church," she said once again, to everyone.

The ground quickly headed for the church only to be stopped at the inside of the gates when another reaper appeared. The Doctor put herself in front of the other's ready to distract the beast if need be.

"Oh, my God. What are they? What are they," one woman cried.

"Inside," the Doctor kept yelling trying to coral them in.

"Sarah," the groom yelled for his bride-to-be and stepped outside.

"Stay in there," the Doctor yells at him.

One man, the father of the groom, took in the situation and decided to try and escape. The reapers pounce on him before he could even get a few feet away. Another one appears in the bride's path and she just screams at it, scaring it away. It decided to take that vicar as its next victim. This gave the group some time to make it safely into the church.

Once inside the Doctor began to survey the area making sure they the reapers couldn't get in. Their screeches rang loudly outside of the church.

"They can't get in. Old windows and doors. Okay. The older something is, the stronger it is. What else?" Her mind was racing a million miles a second. She had to make sure they couldn't get in. At least for the time being so she could figure out how to get them out of this mess. "Go and check the other doors! Move!" She cried out orders like the true warrior that she once was.

As the Doctor began to move around Jackie followed. "What's Happening? What are they? What are they," Jackie asked.

"There's been an accident in time. A wound in time. They're like bacteria, taking advantage," she informed her as the Doctor began checking other doors and windows.

"What do you mean, time? What're you jabbering on about, time?" Jackie snarked back, like always.

"Oh, I might've known you'd argue. Jackie, I'm sick of you complaining," the Doctor rolled her eyes.

"How do you know my name," Jackie demanded.

"I haven't got time for this-" the Doctor was cut off by Jackie once more.

"I've never met you in my life," Jackie exclaimed.

"No, and you never will unless I sort this out. Now, if you don't mind, I've waited a long time to say this. Jackie Tyler, do as I say. Go and check the doors," she ordered the woman.

Jackie was shocked to finally be yelled back at. She quickly nodded her head and replied with a 'Yes Ma'am' before running off to check the doors and windows.

"I should have done that ages ago," she laughed.

The groom walked over to the Doctor. "My dad was out there."

"You can mourn him later. Right now, we need to concentrate on keeping ourselves alive,'" the Doctor told him.

"My dad had-"

"There's nothing that I can do for him," she told him firmly.

"No, but he had this phone thing. I can't get it to work. I keep getting this voice." He passed to phone to the Doctor. She put it up to her ear and listened.

"Watson, come here. I need you," it said. The Doctor smiled.

"That's the very first phone call. Alexander Graham Bell. I don't think the telephone's going to be much use," she passed it back to him.

"But someone must have called the police," he said.

"Police can't help you now. No one can. Nothing in this universe can harm those things. Time's been damaged and they've come to sterilize the wound. By consuming everything inside," she explained to everyone. Her eyes locked with Ross who was standing in front of her.

"Is this because… is this my fault?" He asked. The Doctor didn't answer as she stepped around him.

She was still really made at him, so she decided to go off and work rather than say something she might regret later. The Time Lord strode up to the front of the church and began to use her sonic to bolt the doors down. Just was she was doing so the bride and groom approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss," the groom said.

"Doctor," she corrected him.

"You seem to know what's going on," he stated.

"I give that impression, yeah," she said not removing her eyes from her work. In reality she really had no idea how she was going to get them out of this situation.

"I just wanted to ask-" he was cut off by his fiancée.

"Can you save us," she asked abruptly.

This made the Doctor stop her work and turn towards the couple.

"Who are you two, then," she asked, look at them both up and down.

"Stuart Hoskins," the groom said.

"Sarah Clarke," the bride followed.

The Doctor's eyes strayed onto Sarah's slightly protruding stomach.

"And one extra. Boy or a girl?" She asked.

Sarah looked down at her stomach and smiled while caressing it, "I don't know. I don't want to know, really."

"How did all this get started," the Doctor cocked her head, and asked curiously.

"Outside the beatbox club, two in the morning," Stuart grinned at Sarah.

"Street corner," Sarah added with a laugh. "I lost my purse, didn't have money for a taxi."

"I took her home," he said happily.

"Then what? Ask her for a date," the Doctor laughed.

"Wrote his number on the back of my hand," Sarah confirmed.

"Never got rid of her since," he grinned. " My dad said-" he trailed off with a frown.

"I don't know what this is all about, and I know we're not important-" Sarah began sadly.

"Who said you're not important? I've travelled to all sorts of places, done things you couldn't even imagine, but you two. Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I've never had a life like that. Yes. I'll try and save you." The Time Lord smiled at the pair.

Suddenly Jackie began to call her over. As she walked over to the blonde she began to prepare for another lecture of some sort. She was surprised when Jackie asked if she could watch baby Ross while she went and looked for Peter and little Mickey. She of course obliged. Little Ross looked up at her and began to smile. This made the Doctor's heart soar. Even though she was still a little ticked at her Ross, she had no reason to be angry with this little one. He was even as cute as his current Ross.

She sat down beside him and offered him to play with her fingers a she smiled down. She began to talk to him knowing very well that he would not understand her. However, the present Ross approaching them would.

"Now, Ross you're not going to bring about the end of the world, are you? Are you?" She gave a sideways glance to Ross. "Jackie gave her to me to look after. How times change."

Ross gave a small laugh. "I'd better be careful. I think I just imprinted myself on Mickey like a mother chicken."

He began to lean in close to the baby. The Doctor put her hand on his chest to stop him.

"No. Don't touch the baby. You're both the same person. That's a paradox, and we don't want a paradox happening, not with these things outside. Anything new, any disturbance in time makes them stronger. The paradox might let them in," she informed him.

"I can't do anything right, can I," he mumbled dejected.

The Doctor looked at him and frowned. She knew he was hurting, but he needed to learn from his mistake. If he wanted to continue to travel with her then he can't make stupid and dangerous mistakes like this again.

"Since you asked, no! So, Don't. Touch. The baby." She emphasized every word so he would understand.

"I'm not stupid," he glared at her.

"You could have fooled me," she shot back. Ross looked away, sad and a little angry. She knew that she had to be the one to cave first and fix this bitterness between them. She really hated it when they were like this. "Alright, I'm sorry. I wasn't really going to leave you on your own."

"I know," he looked at her with apologetic eyes.

"But between you and me, I haven't got a plan. No idea. No way out," she confessed.

"You'll think of something. You always do."

"The entire Earth's been sterilized. This, and other places like it, are all that's left of the human race. We might hold out for a while, but nothing can stop those creatures. They'll get through in the end. The walls aren't that old. And there's nothing I can do to stop them. There used to be laws stopping this kind of thing from happening. My people would have stopped this. But they're all gone. And now I'm going the same way."

"If I'd just realized…" he began.

"Just… tell me you're sorry," she looked at him.

"I am. I'm sorry," and he meant it.

The Doctor reached out and placed a hand on his cheek. Ross held onto it with his hand and leaned into the touch. The Time Lord grinned at him and the both fell into a hug. Ross leaned back with a small jolt.

"Have you got something hot," he asked. He reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the TARDIS key. It was scolding hot which made him quickly toss it to the ground.

"It's the TARDIS key," she grinned and quickly took off her leather jacket to pick up the flowing key. "It's telling me it's still connected to the TARDIS. Everyone! I have an announcement!" She ran up to the back of the church and faced the entire crowd. "The inside of my ship was thrown out of the wound but we can use this to bring it back. And once I've got my ship back, then I can mend everything. Now, I just need a bit of power. Has anybody got a battery?"

Stuart quickly grabbed his dad's phone and passed it to the Doctor.

"Fantatic!" She grinned. She took the battery and began to charge it up with her sonic. Once it was ready she placed the key where the door would be and it held in place. The TARDIS slowly began to materialize around it. "Right, no one touches that key. Have you got that? Don't touch it. Anyone touches that key, it'll be, well, zap. Just leave it be and everything will be fine. We'll get out of here. All of us. Stuart, Sarah you're going to get married, just like I said." She grinned at the couple.

Afterwards there was nothing much to do except wait. Ross and the Doctor sat in one of the back pews with Peter in the one directly behind them. Ross leaned towards the Doctor and began to speak softly.

"When time gets sorted out-" he began.

"Everybody here forgets what happened. And don't worry, the thing that you changed will stay changed," she finished his thought.

"You mean I'll still be alive, though I'm meant to be dead. That's why I haven't done anything with my life, why I didn't mean anything," Peter started from behind them.

"It doesn't work like that," the Doctor said.

"Rubbish. I'm so useless I couldn't even die properly. Now it's my fault all of this has happened," Peter said with a frown.

"This is my fault," Ross reassured him.

"No, mate. I'm your dad. It's my job for it to be my fault," Peter stated.

The Doctor got up and shook her head in frustration. Of course, Ross told him.

"Her dad? How are you her dad? How old were you, twelve? Oh, that's disgusting," Jackie said, overhearing the entire conversation.

"Jacks, listen. This is Ross," he tried to explain.

"Ross? How sick is that? You give my son a second-hand name? How many are there? Do you call them all Ross," Jackie yelled defensively.

"Oh, for God's sake, look! It's the same Ross," Peter said taking baby Ross out of Jackie's hands and place him into Ross's hands.

"Ross! No!" The Doctor yelled, but it was too late. She grabbed the baby and placed him back into Jackie's arms.

Just then a reaper formed inside the church causing panic. "Everyone! Behind me!" They all ran behind the Doctor as she held her arms out in a sad attempt to protect them all. She stared up at the creature with fear in her eyes. "I'm the oldest thing in here."

Within a blink of an eye the reaper flew towards her. There was a second of pain. Then darkness.

The Doctor woke up on the ground where she was attacked completely unharmed. She felt her body and did a quick once over. She was fine, and was not regenerate. While getting up on her feet the first thought to cross her mind was to find Ross. As she stepped outside she began to observe the situation. Peter was lying in the middle of the road once again with a broken vase. He must have sacrificed himself to set everything right. She walked up next to Ross.

"Go to him. Quick," she told him.

With that bit of encouragement, he ran off to be with his father during his final moments. The Doctor finally approached the scene once I was over. She held put her hand for Ross to take. He did, and the two walked hand in hand back to the TARDIS for some much needed down time before their next adventure.

[cashforrester]

rank all the songs on the trolls soundtracks!

Alrighty! Since there's 33 total, I'm going to start at #33 and go up to #1, aka the best song in both Trolls combined soundtracks! Please note that I'm not up to debating any of these placements and if you try, I'll scream -- I'm not an expert on much, but I am on the world of Trolls and that's absolutely final. Also worth noting is that even #33 is a masterpiece; this list really isn't from bad to good, it's more from 'pretty good' to 'absolutely rocked my world and changed it forever more!'.

33. The last place spot goes to "Rainbows, Unicorns, Everything Nice" from Trolls: World Tour! It’s a fun little bop and it got a small chuckle out of me but in the end, it’s super short and a little too obvious.

32. “The Other Side” by SZA and JT has to score low. I know it was used to bookend Trolls: World Tour or at least the instrumentals were, but it’s one of the more boring songs on the soundtrack which is the closest to a criticism of one of these songs I’ll have.

31. “Just Sing”, the non-film version, goes here. I know this seems low and it kind of is, but that’s because outside of the context of the movie, the song doesn’t have the same punch! The movie version will be higher on the list!

30. Next goes to "What U Workin' With?" by Gwen Stefani and Justin Timberlake from Trolls! It wasn’t super utilized in the movie so it’s just kind of a spare song on the soundtracks, even if it is a fun bop! I still dance along when it comes on my playlists but the other songs are more integral to the plot.

29. The next spot goes to "Don't Slack" by Anderson Paak and Justin Timberlake, aka the voices of Prince D and Branch! It’s used in the credits of Trolls: World Tour and they’re cute little credits and a cute little song but because it wasn’t used in a more relevant way, it has to rank lower than the others.

28. "I Fall to Pieces" by Sam Rockell, aka the voice of Hickory from Trolls: World Tour comes next! It’s a short but totally funny country tune that’s used well in the plot and made me smile. It is very short though and more of a joke than anything else, but the music isn’t bad so here we go!

27. "Rock N Roll Rules" by HAIM comes next and it’s a really REALLY good song, don’t get me wrong! I love the instrumentals and how they’re used in Trolls: World Tour and I still wish they’d gotten the lead singer of HAIM to voice Queen Barb instead of Rachel Bloom, but ultimately it just reminds me we didn’t get a great rock vocalist for the most important character in the sequel.

26. "It's All Love" by Andersen Paak has to come next! I love this song actually but there’s two versions on the soundtrack and this is the non-film version so it’s got to score lower than songs actually used in the movies, but holy heck, it’s a really good song, I’d highly recommend it.

25. Another song that’s just used as a joke is "The Sound of Silence" by Anna Kendrick, aka Poppy in Trolls and this ranks higher than the others because it was the first real joke song and it made me laugh so hard I cried!

24. "Barracuda” is the worst of Rachel Bloom’s vocal performances in Trolls: World Tour and I hate to say it, I really do, but at times on this one, you can definitely hear that she isn’t a rock singer. It scores higher than the others so far because it was used in a super plot relevant moment and super effectively! AND the most offensive part of the song to my ears, when she says the titular word horribly, was cut out of the film, so it gets 26th instead of last place for being a song that’s hard for me, the King of Suspension of Disbelief, to take seriously.

23. “They Don’t Know” by Ariana Grande comes next. It’s a fun bubbly song that fits Gristle and Bridget’s first date in Trolls perfectly and it made me really really want a roller-skating date at some point in my life. It gets points off for not being able to understand the words and also because none of the characters actually sang it. Songs in the backgrounds of musicals score lower with me.

22. I have to put “Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake here. It’s one of my favorite songs ever but the film version is even better! It gets higher than other non-film versions because of how much it was used for advertising, it basically became synonymous with the Trolls franchise and that sparks joy.

21. And on that note, I have to put “True Colors” the non-film version, before we get to our top twenty. It’s such an amazing song but in the scope of the Troll world... well, the film version is going to score way higher, you’ll see.

20. "Trolls 2 Many Hits Mashup" in Trolls: World Tour has to come next. It’s the last joke song, and the highest scorer because at least they committed to the joke of pop music being way too much! The scene in its entirety is hilarious and all the voice actors really did their best! 

19. "Leaving Lonesome Flats" from Trolls: World Tour comes next! It loses some major points for not being sung by a character in the movie but it’s basically sung by the location that is Lonesome Flats and I love that! It’s a fun little country dirge that really makes us feel transported and it also slaps.

18. "Crazy Train" is maybe the average of Rachel Bloom’s performance as Barb in Trolls: World Tour. It’s over the top and not necessarily in a good way but it’s inoffensive to the ears and a good song notwithstanding whether it’s a cover. 

17. "Trolls Wanna Have Good Times" has to come next which isn’t fair, really; the only reason it’s not higher is because it’s clearly trying to do as well at an opening medley as its predecessor Trolls did with their opening medley. As it often is with sequels, the opening number really didn’t measure up. It was made up of some really fun parts and it gets points for having personalized lyrics (’lived underground away from the world till I had my life changed by a beautiful girl. Just need the guts to tell her that she’s the one’? Amazing!)

16. "Hair Up" from the opening of Trolls comes next! It’s purely sentimental that its this high but every time I hear this beat, it’s like I’m about to start watching Trolls and my whole mind and body get happy so it had to be top twenty, although not fifteen because it’s not the best of the best.

15. "Born to Die" by Kelly Clarkson, aka Delta Dawn, from Trolls: World Tour comes next. My favorite songs from the sequels were the introduction songs for the most part, and this song did a great job of summing up the differences between country trolls and pop trolls. It was great for plot, character, and conflict! It’s just not the kind of music I bop to - ironically, it’s lower than the other introduction songs for me because it’s not fun, which I know is their whole thing, but my whole thing is having fun!

14. "Atomic Dog World Tour Remix" is the funk trolls introduction song in Trolls: World Tour and it’s funky and fun and fresh and I love it! There’s not that much to say about this one, it’s used pretty quickly but very effectively from a storytelling standpoint! It quickly puts us into the world of the funk trolls.

13. "One More Time" is a very nearly perfect introduction song for the techno trolls in Trolls: World Tour! I love how the emphasis of this song is the instrumentals and the dancing more than the actual words -- the techno trolls are big on synchronicity and beats and it’s something that differentiates them from the other kinds of trolls and also makes them a devastating first colony to attack in the movie. They’re all about unity and togetherness and something about attacking and tearing apart the group that’s all about syncing up is so tragic.

12.  “Rock You Like a Hurricane” is the best Bloom sounds in the movie as Barb, and it’s also her introduction song, not surprisingly. The instrumentals are amazing both as a display of talent and power and her voice lends itself well to the moment; it’s a great opener for the rock trolls and it made me so excited to see more from them!

11. “Perfect for Me” is Trolls: World Tour’s answer to the excellence that was the True Colors duet and it was really cute! It wasn’t quite as perfect for the moment as True Colors was, which is funny because this one was written for the movie but I don’t know, since it was written for the movie, I’d have hoped it’d be better? More fitting? It’s a fine enough song that sometimes I listen to sadly while lying down in my bed but in the Trollverse, it’s not top ten material.

10. “September” comes next! It’s the song that the Trolls start singing as soon as they escape the Bergins and it’s their celebration song and I love it for that! It’s also used in the credits of the first movie which makes me love it more; I don’t know, it’s performed and sung really well and makes me really happy. The top ten all spark MASSING amounts of joy.

9. “It’s All Love (History of Funk)” is one of the best songs in the sequel! I love the way the funk trolls go through the history of funk and music, and the beats are amazing and the lyrics are so good and the movie’s scene is SO GOOD. I can’t articulate how much I love that the funk trolls show their history through album covers instead of scrapbooks like the pop trolls. All the vocalists are crazy talented and something about the beat just...yes. It’s just a yes.

8. “Yodel Beat”! It scores surprisingly high if you haven’t seen Trolls: World Tour but if you HAVE seen it, you’ll understand why! It’s one of the best songs for musically punctuating a moment that the entire franchise has and I still get goosebumps thinking about how that scene was executed and how this song played such a massive role in it. Big fan, big fan!

7. "I'm Coming Out" / "Mo' Money Mo' Problems" is just hilarious! I love this scene in Trolls, as it’s the first example we have that Trolls and Bergins can work together, as well as the fact that Bergins can be happy without eating trolls, since Bridget is so confident and awesome! I also give lots of points to mashups and medleys and this was an unexpected one that just worked!

6. "Just Sing (Trolls World Tour)" is the best song in the sequel, hands down! When all the leaders of the different troll counties sing together? It’s amazing, every single time! It’s so meaningful, the fact that music is the most important thing in all of their lives and how it’s what ultimately unites them. I shed a tear every time, honestly. I’m tearing up thinking about it right now.

5. "Hello"  in Trolls is performed EXPERTLY by Zooey Deschanel. Did anyone know she was that funny? Because holy carp! She’s hilarious! I love this song and scene, it was one of the first scenes in Trolls that made me realize this movie was on a whole other level! It had to be top five!

4. "Get Back Up Again" by Anna Kendrick aka Poppy has to be a high scorer! It’s an original for the movie and it’s so damn good! It’s optimistic and encouraging and I love it for the movie and the character but I also love to listen to it when I need some help getting up or feeling like it’s going to be a good day. I will get back up again! It’s a great philosophy and a fantastic reminder that life can knock you down but that you’ll be good!

3. Top three times! The best medley in the movie has to be here, and that’s "Move Your Feet" / "D.A.N.C.E." / "It's a Sunshine Day"! It’s our introduction to the Pop trolls in the first movie and it’s crafted so good! I love it! No matter how many times I listen to it, it makes me so so happy the way the songs flow together. Any world where these songs exist and fit together as well as they do is a world I want to be sucked into for at least the next two hours of my life.

2. THE FILM VERSION OF “TRUE COLORS”! Is my number two pick! It has to be! It’s so impactful and emotional and romantic and if I ever get somebody to want to marry me, an instrumental cover of this has to be our first dance song, I’m sorry. It’s so beautiful! And the film version somehow makes an amazing song even better! WHEN THE TROLLS HUG TIME WATCHES CHIME OFF IN THE TUNE OF THE SONG?! AS THEY FACE THEIR IMPENDING DOOM?! IT’S AMAZING, SHOWSTOPPING, LEGENDARY, ICONIC. I’m getting sweaty just thinking about it!

1. If you know me, you knew “Can’t Stop the Feeling”, the film version, was gonna be number one! The buildup to that moment in the movie is cinematic perfection, the performance is dazzling, and the feeling it leaves in you is unforgettable. It’s the song that’s played when the trolls teach the Bergins that you don’t need to eat other sentient species to be happy, you just need to find the magic and music inside of you, and it’s a lesson I learned while watching -- this movie and this song unlocked a power inside of me to smile and be happy with just myself and it’s absolutely... it’s just everything. It’s everything and I love it and I love you, whoever you are, who sent me this ask, because getting to think about and go through all the songs in Trolls that I love, it was awesome.

honesty hour!

[cinnaminsvga]

intermission • ii | moonblind

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jimin) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: exhibitionism, but not in a sexual way. more like in a public disturbance way. aka streaking.  → words: 4.4K → a/n: another drabble in between chapters to feed your soul!! this time, we’ll get to see some backstory to jihope before we dive into their full length chapter. and omo? is that angst i see? uh oh! 

— • masterlist | prev | intermission ii | next • —

–– 3 years ago ––

Jimin’s third Pop-Tart of the evening has just gone down his gullet when Hoseok knocks excitedly outside his bedroom window. Despite Jimin living on the second floor, it seems that the older boy had chosen to climb the precariously skinny camphor tree that connects their balconies in order to access his room. Regardless, Jimin slides open the window without another word while making sure to hide the box of sugary toaster pastries away from his intruder’s view.

Hoseok jumps down from the ledge, his recently dyed auburn hair awkwardly pasting itself to his forehead with sweat. He smiles brightly at Jimin, and extends his arms forward where he reveals a crumpled envelope clutched tightly in his fists.

Jimin lets out a loud burp, ignoring Hoseok’s disgusted grimace. “Worm. You stole Mister Sun’s porn subscription again?”

“No, you fucking idiot––” Hoseok whines, flopping onto Jimin’s unmade bed. He unfurls the previously ripped apart envelope before Jimin, dumping dozens of papers and glossy brochures all over his Anpanman bedsheets. “Look what I just got from the mail!”

Jimin stands up from his table, stepping towards Hoseok until he can make out the bright red seal of their local university on one of the crisp parchment papers. His heart races then, because there can only be one thing this letter could be about––and he hopes to god that it’s good news for the both of them.

Hoseok waits for his reaction, watches with glee as Jimin’s face slowly breaks into a blinding grin, his body radiating gladness for his dearest friend. He drops the paper to the floor before barrelling towards Hoseok, trapping him in a bear hug.

“Holy shit, hyung! You did it! You got in!” Jimin hollers, not caring to lower his volume despite knowing that his parents would surely scold him for the racket. How could he bare to kill his excitement? Especially when his best friend had just gotten the best news of his life?

Hoseok giggles, tapping Jimin’s shoulder to let him up a little. “Ooph, ease up on my windpipes, brat. It would be shit if you killed me before I even got to go to my first college party.”

“Not on my watch, you aren’t,” Jimin replies, getting off him but nonetheless keeping his arms wrapped gently around his shoulders. “You promised you’d take me with you.”

“Who said anything about me letting a baby like you drink?” Hoseok laughs, voice drunk on happiness. He leans into Jimin, watching the younger leaf through the rest of the papers as he sighs contentedly.

“But seriously, this is amazing! I always knew you could do it, hyung,” Jimin says, positively glowing with warmth. He speaks as if he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. Hoseok doesn’t push (because he never does.)

“Yeah, well. I couldn’t have done it without my special cheerleader, my Jiminie,” he says sweetly. Jimin’s eyes crinkle from the force of his smile, nudging his friend with his knee as he continues to peruse the acceptance letter.

“Oh, shut up. No need to be corny with me. We both know that you’ve always been the better da––” Jimin freezes suddenly, when he gets to a particular piece of paper. His pupils are trained onto the wall of text, turning contemplative as he scans through it like his eyes are afraid to believe what they are seeing.

Hoseok sits upright, concerned. “Jiminie? You okay there?”

Jimin opens his mouth. Closes it. Blinks rapidly like he has spots in his vision. Then, he wordlessly shows him the paper that he was holding, allowing Hoseok to read what caused Jimin to go silent with shock.

Hoseok stares and he stares at the page, not quite getting it. “What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asks.

Jimin points to the bottom of the paper, where it states the tuition and scholarship that Hoseok had earned. He turns to look back at him, still confused, when Jimin’s finger lowers until it gets to the part where he finally understands.

“Oh,” he says, quietly. Perhaps, even a little guiltily too.

“Hyung,” Jimin murmurs, smoothing the paper and gently laying it to the bed. He turns to him, an indecipherable emotion flitting through his face. Hoseok swallows nervously. “You applied to become an English major?”

Sweat begins to build behind Hoseok’s neck. “Well––”

“No, that can’t be right. Maybe you got the wrong letter?” Jimin questions, turning the papers over to look for the mistake that had never been made. He grabs the torn envelope, reading the stark black ink stating “Jung Hoseok” and his home address of 18 years, and yet he still cannot quite believe it. He faces Hoseok, and asks, “Did you get rejected?”

Hoseok stares, wide-eyed, unsure on how to tell his best friend that he had been lying to him for months now. In his bliss-induced haze, he had forgotten all about the secret he had been harboring from him, how he had never applied for the degree that they both promised to apply for when they had been children. How could he face Park Jimin, when he knew that was both a liar and a coward?

Hoseok replies, so softly that Jimin almost misses it, “No. I didn’t get rejected.”

“Then? Why were you put into the English program? How do you explain that?” Hoseok hates the way that Jimin’s voice rises at the end, because he knows it only becomes like that when he can feel something is wrong. He knows that he’s about to be disappointed, betrayed.

“Jimin––”

“Hoseok-hyung, you’re literally one of the country’s best upcoming dancers. You’ve won countless national dance competitions. Why would they––” Jimin stammers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to make sense of it all. “Hyung, what happened?”

Hoseok doesn’t know what to say. No, he does know what to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it. It’ll hurt, but not as much as it’ll probably hurt the only person who has ever believed in him. Hoseok is forced to look away, because there isn’t any other way to do this, not when he can see expectant eyes hoping for a lie he can never utter.

“I never applied for the dance program,” he says, finally. Rips the band-aid in one swoop, and waits for the blood to flow.

As expected, the pain is instantaneous, because Jimin’s never known how else to be. It would have been better if he had shouted, or pushed him––done something, because at least Hoseok would be giving him something to act upon. Instead, all he does is asks, in a whisper, “Why would you lie to me?”

“You wouldn’t have understood,” Hoseok says, but his argument is weak, even to his own ears.

“And what makes you think that when I found out eventually, I would have understood it better than if I had known before?” Jimin counters, lips trembling already.

Hoseok reels back, mouth going slack because honestly, he just doesn’t know. He isn’t thinking, and he certainly wasn’t thinking then. This all would have been easier if he had just learned to keep his big mouth shut––

Or perhaps, if he hadn’t lied in the first place.

“No, that’s not what I meant––”

“Then what did you think was going to happen, huh?” Jimin accuses, choking up as he tries to keep tears at bay. Hoseok senses the signs before he sees it, senses the oncoming waves of dejection that is sure to come. In another time, he would have been the one to comfort him during Jimin’s lows; to think that he has now learned how it feels to be on the other side of the equation.

Hoseok licks his lips. “I-I didn’t think––”

“Typical,” Jimin says, bitterly. Hoseok flinches, having never heard him use this tone of voice on him before. Jimin gives him no time to recover. “Of course you didn’t think. Why on earth would my opinion matter? Did you really think I would’ve just ditched you if you had told me earlier?”

“No, but––”

“You made me think that we had an agreement with each other. You made me think that we would become the country’s best pair of dancers together. Together, hyung,” Jimin repeats, hurt dripping from every word.

“Jimin, we both know that was a promise we made when we were children. There’s no way we would ever have become better than everyone else––dancing our way to success has always been a foolish dream, and we’re both better off not pursuing it.” Hoseok says smoothly, his thoughts tumbling out through his lips like butter because he’s been repeating the same excuse to himself ever since he had submitted his university application. He knows, his parents know, and his teachers know that there is no future for him when it comes to dancing––it’s called a dream for a reason, after all. 

The sooner that he and Jimin get their heads around this fact, the better.

“I can’t - no, I refuse to believe that you actually think that way. Not when,” Jimin inhales, small fists clenched so tightly that they tremble by his thighs. “Not when I’ve seen how you dance. You can’t fucking tell me that you don’t love the way the music pumps through your veins, and how the energy of the crowd is like no other drug in the world. I’ve seen the way you talk about dance, hyung. You can’t lie to me.”

It’s true. He can’t lie. But damn, no one can stop him from trying.

“Jimin, I know this is hard to come to terms with, and I know you deserve more than a shitty apology.”

“Save it,” Jimin hisses, standing up from the bed. He marches over to the window, dragging the glass open and allowing the cold night breeze to chill the small bedroom. The papers flutter about lightly, almost mockingly.

“Get out of my house. We’ll talk again when I’ve cooled down.” Jimin says, throat tight with feelings left unsaid. Hoseok complies, jumping to the extended branch without another look back. He never thinks to ask for forgiveness, and Jimin isn’t sure if he would’ve given it to him, anyway.

Jimin shuts the window, and the room is silent once more. He shoves the papers off of his bed, sweeping them angrily under the rug for him to deal with later. For now, he needs to do something else to take his mind off of everything that just happened.

He flips his phone on, scrolling through his measly contact list until he gets to one of the latest additions in his roster. He never once thought that he’d resort to calling this person in particular. Then again, his stupid ass decided to become dependent on one person, so what else is he supposed to do?

The phone rings only twice before he picks up.

“‘Sup,” is what Taehyung’s deep voice greets him. Beyond the static, Jimin can hear the distant sound of Yoshi’s cheery voice in the background.

“Hey. You busy?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the ends of his sweater nervously. Wait, why is he nervous? Taehyung is the weird new kid that moved in just a few weeks ago. Surely, the stranger in the neighborhood should be the one sweating bullets right now?

“Not in particular. Why?” The distinct tune of game over music plays shortly after, and Taehyung curses quietly under his breath. A loud clacking sound follows after, and Jimin guesses that the other boy had thrown his controller away in disgruntlement. “Well. I’m definitely free now. You need something?”

“Well…” Jimin hesitates, unsure of what to say. That he had potentially lost the only friend that he’s ever had and now he needs a replacement, asap? Yeah, right.

Taehyung beats him to the punch. “You need a friend or something? You feelin’ lonely?” he asks plainly.

Jimin chokes on his spit. “N-no…” he mutters, pouting at being found out so easily.

Taehyung laughs, not unkindly. “Don’t worry, dude. I was just messing with ya. I know you and that Jung kid are pretty tight. He must be busy with college stuff now, right? He’s a year older than us, if I remember correctly.”

“Y-yeah. He is. I was just bored, is all…”

“Sweet.” Jimin can hear him grin through the speaker. “Meet ya in front of your house in just a sec.”

Just as Jimin is about to ask what he plans on doing, Taehyung ends the call abruptly. “Rude,” he says, huffing slightly. Well, guess he has no choice but to search for some pants to wear before making his way to his front door. (Has he been naked this entire time? That’s up to you to decide.)

It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to arrive, but Jimin does note of the way he is panting slightly when he finally reached his front lawn. He looks at him, concerned. “Hey dude. You okay? Why’re you so tired?”

Taehyung holds up a finger, back bent with his hands on his knees. “Ran,” is all he says, still struggling with his breath.

Jimin stares at him. “We literally live three houses away from each other.”

“We can’t all be Michael Phelps,” Taehyung retorts.

“He’s a swimmer.”

“Same thing. We all got lungs.”

Jimin snorts, patting him on the back. “Alright, Phelps. What were you planning on doing during this fine evening? I hope it has something to do with two fake IDs and maybe a couple of dollar bills.”

“What?” Taehyung gasps, staring at him in shock. “That’s the type of shit you do with Jung?”

“Nah. I was just messing with you. I only got a fake ID so I could vote.” he jokes.

“Same,” he replies without missing a beat. Jimin isn’t sure if he was joking. “But nah. I was planning on asking you to go out for a run with me. To let go of some steam, or whatever it is you jocks like to do for fun.”

“You want to go on a run? Dude, you literally almost died getting here.” Jimin points out.

Taehyung raises a finger. “Key word: almost.” He rifles through his short gym shorts (read: very very short shorts) for a moment, before dangling a pair of 80s-looking car keys at him. “I was thinking that you would do more of the running, while I drive beside you so I can keep you company.”

Jimin stares at him. Then, “Is this what you think healthy people do for fun?”

“Listen man. I ate rice with ketchup for dinner today so please don’t tease me.”

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.” he says, slapping the other boy on the shoulder. Taehyung hisses in pain, but is quick to hide it when Jimin finally fixes his gaze on him.

“So.”

“So?”

“Wanna go underage drinking?”

“Sounds fun, but I have a better idea,” Taehyung says, grabbing Jimin by the hand. If Jimin is startled by this near-stranger’s blatant invasion of his space, he doesn’t say it. Maybe because somehow, he knows that he can trust Taehyung with his life.

Well. Maybe not his life. Maybe his wifi password? Debatable. Still––

“What’s your idea, hotshot?” Jimin asks, but all Taehyung does is shoot him a boxy grin.

“Just keep walking, and follow me.”

Turns out, Taehyung’s idea isn’t all that bad.

Taehyung had found out from an older friend that there was an event being hosted by the nearby university at their open grounds that night. When they get there, hundreds of plastered university students are already milling about, so much so that no one seems to bat an eye that two high school kids were somehow making their way through the crowd and onto one of the makeshift bleachers.

“Everyone’s either too high or too drunk to care that we’re here,” Jimin notices, gazing at the surrounding “adults” as they clumsily found their way to their seats.

“Yeah. That’s just how old people are like all the time.” Taehyung hums, pushing off a young man and woman who both seem to be permanently sewn together by their lips. “Oops, guess these seats are free now!” he says cheerfully, patting the other space for Jimin.

Jimin can’t help staring at the large crowd, wondering if this is the crowd he’ll find himself in just a year’s time. “What is this event for, anyway?” It’s hard to tell, especially since there seems to be no signs of event coordination whatsoever. For all he knows, he could be a part of some cultish initiation or whatever.

“Oh, I don’t know. Some welcoming party to start the new semester? Who cares. We’re just here to observe,” Taehyung says, grabbing the popcorn bucket from another preoccupied couple in front of them. He offers some to Jimin, to which he politely declines. He shrugs his shoulders, popping ten of them into his mouth. “I mean, we only have a year left before we’re one of these braindead sacks of shit, so might as well have a head start and wreak a little havoc.”

“A year left, huh.” Jimin mutters to himself, brows furrowed. Taehyung pauses in his munching to observe his new friend, who is staring at the ground thoughtfully. In front of them, the sound of a cannon firing reverberates across the park, and the crowd jumps to their feet around them. Neither of them join the rest.

“You thinkin’ of something?” Taehyung shouts over the crowd, and Jimin can barely hear him. He shakes his head, ready to brush his concern aside, but thinks better of it. Why should he hide his feelings? He isn’t Hoseok, after all.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. I just think I’m not cut out for this university life!” he yells, the crowd still going apeshit at whatever was happening up front. A man in a stereotypical toga overhears him, who turns to them in all his red face-painted glory.

“Bro! That was totally me in freshie year! Don’t worry, kid! We ALL want to die, and that’s what we call team spirit!” He hollers wildly, and a group of similarly dressed men beside him bellows back in agreement.

Taehyung laughs gleefully at their antics, while Jimin has to force a chuckle out just so the drunken toga-wearing troglodytes would look away from him so he can continue his spontaneous heart-to-heart session.

“Sorry. You were saying?” Taehyung asks, voice now at regular-ish speaking level now that the people around them have settled down.

“I was saying how I think I won’t be going to university. It’s just not the life for me, you know?” he says, and Jimin can admit that he was acting a bit bitter after what had just happened a few hours ago, but he wasn’t thinking sensibly right now. Or maybe, this is the most sensible that he’s been in his life.

Jimin doesn’t want to think too deeply about it, and luckily, Taehyung just gets it. He doesn’t pry, choosing instead to nod empathetically back at him and leaving it at that.

“That’s cool, dude. Maybe this can be your way of experiencing the uni life, at least one way or another.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, chest hollow. He gazes to the front where a scantily clad cheerleader bats open a piñata filled with tampons instead of candy. Another piñata is filled with K-pop lenticular cards. The crowd goes nuts.

The two of them continue to watch the festivities unfold. Perhaps it is due to the lack of alcohol and other consumable vices in their systems, but they soon come to realize that this event is boring as hell. Everyone else seems to be having a good time, but Jimin cannot for the life of him fathom why watching five dudes sing the wrong lyrics to High School Musical is the definition of “a good time.”

Taehyung says it before he does. “Dude, this sucks.”

Jimin nods forlornly. “This sucks.”

Like the fiendish person that Jimin will soon come to know in the following years, Taehyung’s eyes glint with the unrestrained need to be a little shit. So, he offers Jimin an idea.

“Hey. You ever wanted to do a mildly illegal crime and get away with it?”

Jimin squints at him. “Not in particular. Why?”

Taehyung grins brightly. If Jimin didn’t know any better (which he didn’t, because he only met this kid a few weeks ago when his mother forced him to bring over some housewarming cupcakes to the new neighbors), he would have assumed that Taehyung is as angelic as they come. The type of person who sheltered abandoned puppies and volunteered at the local orphanages.

Oh, how wrong he was. Apparently, Taehyung is  the type of person to demand a newfound friend “take off your pants right now” without an ounce of shame. 

Like a sane person, Jimin refuses immediately.

Jimin tries again. “If you think I’m gonna drop my pants now and cause a scene to make you laugh, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

Taehyung tries again. “You and I both know this shit is boring as hell, and the only people with an ounce of artistic flare in their bodies is us, so why don’t you take one for the team and drop your pants?”

So Jimin stares into Taehyung’s eyes a little longer. They stay still, neither of them willing to back down. The raucous crowd around them is incognizant of the exchange happening right in front of them. Like many natural disasters, no one ever really sees it coming. Then:

“Why don’t you do it, then?”

“I’m not the one with the abs, am I?”

…

Somehow, that’s what gets Jimin.

You are walking back home from the nearby university event after having decided to leave early due to how unappealing the entire thing had been. You seriously regret letting your classmates pressure you into attending with them, since you know all of them had just wanted to sneak out for some underage drinking. You have never been into that sort of thing, and so you promise yourself to never go along with your friends’ harebrained schemes after this disaster.

You haven’t made it that far away from the open grounds, so you can still hear the deafening hoots of college students from where you stood. However, you are suddenly shocked by the sudden shrieks of terror, more striking than the previous ruckus with how absolutely terrified these screams sounded.

Curious, you turn to face where you had just been, craning your head for any signs of the source of the commotion. Your eyesight isn’t good enough to see that far, so you are quick to give up and shrug your shoulders. Must have been some weird performance by another group of college weirdos. What else is new?

You continue walking at a relaxed speed, not in a hurry to reach home when suddenly, you can hear the distant sound of bare feet slapping furiously against the pavement.

Having just watched a copious amount of unsolved murder documentaries the night before, you hasten your pace, almost ready to dash out of there when the footsteps start to grow louder and more distinct. Fully alarmed now, you are pretty much speed-walking by the time your would-be assailant seems to be inches away from you.

Daring a chance to look back, you let out a bloodcurdling scream as you see what appears to be a fully naked man running headfirst towards you. Your screech causes the man to yell back in surprise, and accidentally tripping all over himself and into the concrete. You wince at the sound of his nose cracking painfully against the sidewalk, but you have no chance to feel sorry for him because oh my god there was a literal naked man chasing after you!!!

But your stupid ass just HAD to interact with him, because you’re stupid and your head is made of air. Sorry, it be like that sometimes.

“Who the fuck are you? I’m going to kill you?” You say the last part like a question, because really, do you think you could kill a man? We already established that you’ve got an empty skull, so what the hell do you think you’d be able to do? Flail around like those inflatable balloon things outside car dealerships?

The man groans loudly, lifting his head up slowly from disorientation. Like you had guessed, his face is bloody where his nose had broken, but nothing else seems to be injured (but you can’t say the same for his brain, though.) He coughs, smearing his blood with his hand in a futile attempt to staunch the steady flow.

“Listen,” he begins, his voice sounding muffled due to the way his nostrils have pretty much collapsed into his face. You grimace at blood-shaped face print he had left on the sidewalk. “Sorry for spooking you. As much as I really appreciate death right now, you’ll have to redirect Satan to my doorstep for another time because I have to kill Kim Taehyung before I meet my maker.”

God, you are literally too tired to deal with this shit. “That doesn’t even make sense––”

He stands up all of a sudden, jumping to his full height with the grace of an Olympic runner. And by Olympic runner, you mean the ones from Ancient Greece when they’d compete all naked and oiled. Like this dude is. Except he’s all naked and bloodied.

You can feel the beginnings of a migraine starting to form. Hm... Maybe underage drinking is the answer. (It’s definitely not, but one can dream.)

He straightens up, nodding curtly at you. “Sorry, no time to explain. I must be on my way.” With one final salute, he sprints off, his toned legs carrying him farther and farther away until only the sheen of his pale ass can be seen from a distance. It twinkles, ever so gently under the moonlight.

“Wack,” you say.

And so, you went home.

The next day, on social media, the myth of the moon streaker makes its rounds. Everyone is wondering who it is, but no one seems to have ever seen that boy in their university before.

[+985, -23] omg… that was disgusting and inappropriate!! but… 10/10 would see again lol

[+759, -3] that ass though? it was beautiful… like the full moon… when will my boyfriend EVER

[+699, -1] lunar new year is officially MOVED to today… god bless that naked lil man. i love you.

[pcrcdise]

╰ ♡  MUSE 75, TOM HOLLAND, CISMALE ┊ have you seen TROY SINCLAIR around hillston? the 21 year old is said to be a COLLEGE SENIOR. the neighbours would say that they’re ENTITLED and RUTHLESS, but they’re actually SOCIABLE and NONCHALANT. HE often reminds people of quickies in club bathrooms, entirety of his closet filled with designer brands, gym locker rooms. watch out, though. you wouldn’t believe that HE’S A SERIAL DATER AND PUTS HIS SELF WORTH ON THE ATTENTION HE GETS. ( candy, 24, aedt, she/her )

hey  howdy  hey  !  i’m  candy  and  this  is  troy  .  don’t  come  for  me  bc  this  man  is  a  piece  of  shit  (  but  also  pls  love  him  lmao  )  .  find  his  statistics  here  and  a  list  of  wanted  connections  here  or  tag  here  which  i  need  to  update  ,  oop  . 

full name : troy shane sinclair nickname(s) : troy boy , tboy birth date : june thirteen zodiac sign : gemini age : twenty-one gender : cismale pronouns : he / him / his sexual orientation : bisexual romantic orientation : biromantic education : high school diploma , currently studying a bachelor of athletic training at university as a senior

𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃

from a very young age, troy’s been active, boisterous and restless. he’s always been doing something and putting his all into it. whether that was imaginative play, puzzles, hands on crafts or the majority of the time he was dancing along to kids shows ( that weren’t on for very long ) or playing outside where he spent most of his time. he was a ball of energy, and still is. he also wanted people to watch him, so he could show off what he was doing to them or for them to play with them. he always wanted attention. ( that hasn’t changed ). that only intensified when his siblings came into the world, and even more so when their mother ‘fucked off’ as he likes to say.

in the current day people know troy sinclair as the guy that doesn’t give a shit about anything, that doesn’t let things worry him. what they don’t know is that after their mother left up until kindergarten, he had separation anxiety, specifically for his father and other close family members. he most definitely clung to dad in those years, fearing he was going to leave too but luckily, for everyone’s sake, he managed to grow out of this when he realised his siblings needed him.

this boy is the epitome of a spoiled, entitled, rich, fuckboy. he only wears designer clothes and dresses to impress, is always wearing expensive watches, drives cars you can only dream of owning, works out/goes for a run every day, parties hard and fucks harder and is renowned for breaking hearts ( he is a gemini, what do you expect? lmao ). he is a good guy he’s just... questionable.

troy thrives on fun and adventure and every weekend is a chance to travel, party or cause chaos. he would very much prefer to be off traveling, exploring, putting his curiosity to good use by discovering new things or partying than sitting at home being lazy. even before turning twenty-one, clubs are one of his playing fields/stomping grounds as well as frat parties and regular bars. 

that’s not to say he’s not a classy mofo either, mates. catch him sporting suit and tie at brunches and galas talking the talk and sipping on expensive wine with his kind. 

troy exudes confidence and luxury. although he may think that the world revolves around him at times and believes he deserves special treatment because of his family’s reputation and wealth, but he will literally talk to anyone. like, he can talk that’s for sure and is one of those people that comes across as being “friends” with everyone. he is sociable and civil ( in his own way ). you may be of lower class and he will still talk to you. 

it’s very hard for troy to stress out or to get upset. school work is getting hard? oh well. i just broke up with my partner? meh. dad’s got another partner? what else is new? you want a fight? bring it on. he is very much a believer in things are meant to happen for a reason and doesn’t tend to take life too seriously ( except for when it comes to prized possessions and even then he can go out and buy some more ). he does get offended though, let’s make that clear. with that being said though, when opportunity arises or he finds something that he wants he will take it and won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

when he is hurt, however, he will bottle it and not say a single word. for someone who’s brutally honest and isn’t shy to give his opinion, troy is very closed off and tends to keep people at a distance or lie to them about his feelings when he’s down.

family is everything to troy! he loves them unconditionally ( even if they annoy the fuck out of him sometimes ) and they are the only people he would lay down his life for. everyone else? nah. he isn’t overly protective over his siblings because he knows they can take of themselves, but will step in when need be like the good big bro he is. 

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃

troy doesn’t like to be single, can’t be single. not really anyway. there are underlying commitment or abandonment issues when it comes to relationships that are more than likely the root of the problem. along with the fact mama left and papa has had countless partners over the years.

troy doesn’t need to be the centre of attention as he already knows he’s the best, but he expects attention. he works hard on his physique and appearance, putting his self-worth on the constant attention he receives. negative attention isn’t ideal, though he knows that only the best have their haters. being in a relationship is a validation to him that he is worth it, that his looks and who he is is worthy. it’s not healthy, and i think he knows it.

being single for too long gives him doubt, sends him down a downhill spiral of harsh criticism and he feels as though he is nothing without someone, that someone not wanting him is the end of the world in a dramatic sense. 

not only that, but troy actually enjoys the beginning of relationships. the charming smiles, flirting, the chase, going on those first few dates and being showered in compliments ( and giving them, ofc ). he likes getting to know people, likes the process of being strangers to being together, and he enjoys sleeping with new people also. the first touches, the way he can make someone’s heart race and how they can do the same to him. it’s enticing, addicting like drugs. all the way to the honeymoon phase.

he knows it isn’t love, not matter what his lover at the time says. he has never said it, and probably never will because he doesn’t believe in romantic love ( we’ll see ). troy is deep down in love with the idea of love, and it’s sad.

the boy’s relationships tend to last a couple of months at the very most. when that honeymoon phase starts to wear off, when he’s had the sex he needs and feels as though that partner is not doing anything for him anymore… he’s out. any work that needs to be put into a relationship to make it work or when a solid, deep and emotional connection is meant to start forming, he’s done. with that being said, he has never cheated on his spouse! ever! he always leaves first before hoping in the sack with someone else!

break ups are not easy for most people, but for troy it’s nothing. it’s as easy as getting dressed in the morning, like breaking a toothpick. douchebag i know, don’t come for me.

[weatherman667]

My Opnions on RWBY Shipping

Note: I don't consider anything Post-Haven to be canon. Sorry, not sorry. Also, before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I believe in Ship and Let Ship.

Lancaster (Jaune x Ruby): Even if you don't want to make it romantic, they have deep love, trust, and affection for each other. Turning it romantic is incredibly easy.

White Knight (Jaune x Weiss): First off, a comment to the detractors, that Jaune is harassing Weiss. He only asked her out twice. Once when they first met. She rejected him. He accepted this. He didn't ask her out again until the dance, where it was socially expected for him to ask her out. If he didn't, he would effectively be declaring that he had no romantic feelings for her at all. Jaune obviously has great affection for her. Most of Weiss' rejections... explicitly... have very little to do with Jaune. Her very first objection is that "All my life, boys have only ever cared about the perks of my last name." This is proven to be compeltely mistaken. A lot of it is also that she's not really looking for a relationship. She is risking being disinherited to become a huntress, even so much as training outside of Atlas. At this stage she basically looks at it being herself versus the world. The real White Knight doesn't kick off until Jaune realizes that having confidence is about having confidence in himself. You see Weiss start responding a lot more positively to him once he drops the façade.

Knightshade (Jaune x Blake): Blake spends her time in her own little world. While she doesn't comment on the outside world, she is very well aware of it. Are there any explicit romantic overtures?, no, but Blake doesn't have any romantic overtures with anyone. Other than that one blush for Sun during the Vytal tournament, and then he spent the entirety of S4 and S5 rejecting him.

Dragonslayer (Jaune x Yang): Yang needs someone to let her let go. Yang is nowhere near as well held together and she tries to pretend. Jaune, who's also someone who not that well held together, notices this. This is the nature of their relationship: they both provide the support each other craves. They both have a lot of responsibility, and neither think they are cut out for their responsibility, but they are certainly not going to abdicate it.

White Rose (Ruby x Weiss): A classic foils-as-romance. Is it explicitly romantic?, no, but it is deep and intimate. Something Weiss would completely claim to hate. They are incredibly sweet together, and make up for each other's faults. A very complimentary relationship.

Ladybug (Ruby x Blake): Like all of Blake's romances, there is nothing overtly romantic about it. But their relationship is deep and intimate. Probably the first person Blake has learned to trust... since her last relationship didn't work out so well.

Sunshine (Ruby x Yang): More perverted than practical. Normally I only use this when put into a larger grouping.

Checkmate (Weiss x Blake): They went from near-enemies to near-lovers in a hair's breadth, and it was one of the most emotionally fulfilling moments of the show.

Freezerburn (Weiss x Yang): An incredbily sensual, incredibly irrational romance, and one thing both girls need is a chance to let go, and someone who will be both emotionally and physically intimate with them.

Bumblebee (Blake x Yang): One of the worst writing fumbles in the show. I'm not saying the relationship is bad, I'm saying that needed to have a deep, intimate talk to work out everything that had happened between them. Instead they have them beat up Blake's bastard ex-boyfriend, who had been reduced down to nothing more than being a bastard ex-boyfriend. And then they held hands, The End.

Arkos (Jaune x Pyrrha): Pyrrha is 100% in love with Jaune, but seems to want Jaune x happiness even more than she wants Jaune x Pyrrha. Jaune on the other hand is deeply emotionally connected to and protective of her. Romance is obvious, if... well... you know... This is a giant obstacle to every other Pyrrha x someone romance, unless she can hook Jaune up with one of RWBY and squeeze herself into it.

Milk and Cereal (Pyrrha x Ruby): Like most Pyrrha romances, the biggest obstacle is that she loves Jaune. She does adore spending time with RWBY, however. RWBY is probably the first friends outside of JN_R she's ever had. The closest among RWBY is, of course, Ruby.

North Pole (Pyrrha x Weiss): Is Weiss's affections to Pyrrha romantic?, ehn, probably not, but like 90% there. It's really easy to just round that extra 10%, and Pyrrha, on her part, does not seem to be against the flirting.

Purrha (Pyrrha x Blake): Pretty much in the same field as every Pyrrha x RWBY ship. Is it canon?, no, but close enough.

Helios (Pyrrha x Yang): First off, yes, the default is Greek Fire, but Greek Fire is also the default for Pyrrha x Cinder, so I'm going with Helios. Fight me. Two amazons in love. Seriously, what's not to love? Not especially the most likely pairing, but ehn.

Holy Grail (Jaune x Velvet): I love it, but not the most likely of Jaune's pairings. Probably the most likely outside of RWBY+P, however.

Witch Hunt (Jaune x Glynda): Highly erotic pairing, but really don't see it actually happening.

Knightfall (Jaune x Cinder): The best way to give Cinder a redemption arc. The most likely of the good guys x Cinder ships. Jaune is probably one of the only members of RWBY + JN_R that could forgive Cinder enough to start a romance with her. He's also stupid enough to not mind the might-stab-in-back part. Seriously, taking Cinder off the villain's team is enough to risk it.

Crosshares (Coco x Velvet): Absolutely nothing to support this ship in the story, and I personally hate Coco. That said, there is equally nothing to stop the ship. I just hate that everyone thinks it's so obvious. Also, as a note, the comics are completely non-canon. Yes, they claimed to be canon, and then completely disrespected canon at every turn. Even committing copyright theft to give Glynda a grenade launcher.

Iceberg (Weiss x Neptune): Hate it. Neptune clearly doesn't care about Weiss at all. I mean, AT ALL. Could it happen?, sure, but there's a greater chance that Weiss will just get used and tossed aside.

[the-space-above-the-stars]

piece de resistance

lee taeyong x reader

Summary: You’re a sculpter. Taeyong is a painter. And all you need is each other, your supplies, and for Paris to never change. 

Warnings: making out, grinding, nudity, references to sex

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.5K

Taeyong remembers the summer he met you, just a few years ago. He was beginning to gain notoriety for his paintings in Paris and was invited down to the seaside village of La Flotte where some artists were getting together to showcase their work. The train ride from Paris was incredibly dull but when he got to the open-air gallery, his eyes were immediately captured, not by the art, but by an artist. 

A certain artist, her hair tied out of her face with a red bandanna wrapped around her head, wearing a t-shirt for some band he long forgot the name of tucked into ripped jeans. Her fingers were still coated in the thin dried remnants of clay, and he could tell she was standing next to her own work, a sculpture of Medusa, the gorgon from Greek mythology. He wanted to meet her, know her, and more than anything, he wanted to paint her.

They talked the entirety of the event. He was staying in La Flotte over the weekend, so she showed him her studio and he showed her his paintings and they road bikes by the water. Her name was Y/N. The first night he knew that, he whispered it up to his ceiling when he should have been asleep, a smile on his face. 

He sketched her in his sketchpad on the train ride back home, the shadows cast by her cheekbones, strands of her hair escaping that messy bun she threw it up in, her tongue poking through her teeth in a smile. Paris didn’t seem as bright, probably because he had seen something even brighter. 

It took him a month to realize why there was that dull pang in his heart, why his paintings spoke more of lovers and love than of the city around him, why he couldn’t help but paint a woman with her hair tied back in a red bandanna. 

He had your number, pinned to his wall, and so he used it, asking you if you would like to come up to Paris for the weekend. You had agreed and at the end of the weekend, one of wine and dancing and art and the Eiffel Tower, he had kissed you at the train station. You had kissed him back and missed your train, but it didn’t matter. There were always others.

You had been dating for almost 6 months when you packed your bags and moved to Paris with him, another occupant in the small appartement he called home. You shared the bedroom, cooked together, he painted on the balcony and you sculpted in the spare room. 

Taeyong’s long forgotten the hollow moan in his stomach, the yearning for the crepes Madame Laurent was making in the cafe across the street as he painted. He had forgotten the feeling of the cold air against his bare chest, sensitive and littered with purple marks from the night before. He was in a trance he only got in when he was smearing colors across a canvas.

A cigarette hanging lazily between your lips, you shivered slightly from the cold air as Taeyong continued to paint, eyes flickering from your body to the canvas every few seconds. “Yong, it’s cold,” you complained, your voice low as you huffed out a puff of smoke.

“I’m  almost finished, mon amour,” he assured you, your lover’s mop of red hair disappearing behind the canvas once again You sighed, limbs growing stiff from the pose you were holding, but you couldn’t complain. A smile crossed your lips as the memory of last November came along, Taeyong posing for hours as you sculpted his features, the striking angle of his jawline, the pucker of his lips, the softness in his eyes. He probably had it worse than you.

 “Would you like to come see it?” He asks, sitting back with a groan and rubbing his shoulders. You nodded, putting your cigarette out and crawled out of bed, throwing one of his dress shirts over your body. You didn’t care to do the buttons as you moved behind him to inspect his work of you. “I still have to touch up the bed,” he sighs contently as you wrap your arms around his neck, placing a warm open kiss to his shoulder. “The way the light comes through doesn’t look the same, but i think I’ve managed to-“

“It’s beautiful, my love,” you assure him, head buried in the crook of his neck. You look back on the canvas. In all reality he’s captured you perfectly, the slight curl the humidity gives to your hair, the curve of your breasts and the way the light falls onto your body through the open window. The thin cloud of smoke rising from your lips. The scattered purple marks along your neck and hips. “How much will they pay you for this one?”

He chuckles at the joke, pulling you to sit on his lap. “You think I’d let any other man look upon ma chèrie like this? I’m keeping this one,” he sighs, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. “All to myself.”

“Why need a painting when you’ve got the real thing right here?” Taeyong chuckles and leans in to kiss you, tilting your head down with his thumb gently on your chin. You moan softly against his lips, completely content with life as your fingers bury into his hair. “Mon ange,” 

“Mon couer,” he smiles against your lips, sliding his hands under your thighs and picking you up. He stumbles slightly as he carries you over to the bed, laying you down gently like his latest masterpiece being set to dry. That was what you were after all. A masterpiece, and incredibly, irrevocably, his. Putting a hand to the small of your back, he helps you shrug out of the shirt you’re wearing before pulling you onto his lap again. This time, you capture his lips, tongue gliding against his bottom lip as his hands roam over your body. “Ma belle,” he groans at the friction of your hips moving against his, rolling over to trap your body under his. “I have something for you, wait here.” He presses a kiss to a love mark he left on your neck, sighing in contentment before getting out of the bed and searching through the bedside drawer. He comes back with a box wrapped in a thin pink bow. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Yong,” you complain but nevertheless, you open the box, Taeyong wrapping his arms around you, thumbs rubbing warmth back into your forearms. You pull out a small leather pouch. “Oh, Taeyong, you didn’t-” You undo the pouch and find the set of sculpting tools you’d been admiring for so long in the store window, the ones you convinced yourself you could afford once your commission for  the new opera house was done. “Taeyong, these must have cost a fortune, you can’t just-” 

“I had a buyer willing to pay more than he asked for for a painting of his wife,” he explains himself, laying his head on your shoulder. “I thought you deserved a little something.” 

“Je t’aime,” you sigh, turning to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. When you pull back, however, he’s already pressing something else into your hand. 

It’s a small, thin gold pendant, oval shaped, but it’s the engraving that means more. It’s a singular rose, thin stemmed with two leaves turned up to the sun and an open bloom. Etched near the flower are three initials L.T.Y. It’s Taeyong’s signature, what he puts on all of his paintings, the small rose and the initials. “Ma belle,” he hugs you close, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “Ma couer, ma muse, mon amour, mon chef-d'œuvre, mien.”

“Le tiens,” you nod, letting him take the necklace and slip it around your neck. “All yours.” 

“You know,” he sighs, laying the small pendant in the middle of your chest and smiling. “I used to be in awe of how much color there was in the world, how alive everything looked, but now, but when I met you, it was like the world took all that color, all that life, all that energy, and put it straight into you.” His fingers lace through yours, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “Everything else feels like black and white, but you- you’re in screaming colors.” 

“I love you, Taeyong,” you sigh as you relax against his lips, your heart swelling with love for this man, your lover, your other half. “I love you so much.” 

“And Y/N Y/L/N, I’m fantastically in love with you as well,” bringing the back of your hand to his lips, he kisses it softly, the warmth of his lips sending chills up your spine. 

Paris is still waking up. Madame Laurent will still be making crepes in a few hours and there will still be food in the kitchen to fill your empty bellies. But right now, with the sounds of the city outside your window and the safety of each others arms, you lie down to rest, the painting drying at the base of your bed. 

mon amour - my love

ma cherie- my sweetheart

mon ange- my angel

mon couer- my heart

ma belle- my beauty

Je t’aime- I love you

ma muse- my muse

mon chef-d'œuvre - my masterpiece

mien- mine

le tiens- yours

[aragaki]

Anwar finally has a pretty profile, complete with stunning sprites that I commissioned and actually cried upon receiving!!

WIP Info of my boy under the cut!!

Sprite by maniinne

Grimoire Template by @savenkey

“If you’ve got a heart of gold, don’t tell the world – it wants to steal it.”

Physical traits:

He stands 5'9, with a fit build of a dancer. His hair is a deep red, always in a tangle, a part of which he ties back into a high ponytail in the back, the rest falls over his shoulders. He has his right ear pieced, which he did himself. On his left cheek, he has a gruesome looking scar of flesh ripped away near his mouth and exposing his teeth. He wears a sheer veil to obscure it, but not hide it entirely. A headpiece of golden medallions goes around the entirety of his head, meeting under his ponytail. His clothes are made up of a crop top jacket, a black modesty bandage cover his chest and pair of dancing pants slit in diamond shapes at the sides and no shoes, several gold rings decorating his toes.

Personality:

Anwar is a worry for all those around him, he acts like a puppy, innocently going along with everything around him. People often mistake him for being simple, but under his trusting nature is a sharp-minded young man. His voice is noted to drop the bubbly tone he’s known for and take a deeper, more intimidating note when he’s angry. He does his best to be kind to those around him, but he has a selfish streak, he’s not one to be taken advantage of easily. He’s also incredibly hard on himself, he wants to catch up to Asra and often forces himself past his limit, even if it gets him hurt.

He’s mischievous, often doing things when he’s been told not to and snoop around in places he’s not supposed to. He will listen if he’s told to seriously cut it out, but he’s curious by nature and wants to replace his missing memories with as many new ones he can cram into his head. Anwar is known for his excitable nature and is always bouncing off of the walls who feeds off the mood around him and can be calmed down just as easily.

Hobbies:

Dancing, mainly. Others, map making, painting, sewing. Anything that can keep his hands busy, but also keep him still.

Background:

Pre-plague:

Anwar was born in Vesuvia, originally named Felix by his parents, a seamstress and a fisherman with the wish he would grow up beautiful. At the time he was born, Vesuvia was struggling with their current Count on his death bed and poverty was on the rise in the lower income areas of Vesuvia. His parents, knowing they wouldn’t be able to feed another mouth while they were struggling to eat themselves, gave up the young Felix to an orphanage, where he spent his earliest years raised by the other children and the matrons. Felix was often the subject of bullying, for his wild, thick red hair and looking so different than the other children. But the thing that was always twisted against him was his name, the only thing he had from the parents he never knew. Even people who came to the orphanage and met with him were scared away by his boundless energy and boisterous personality. Even if everyone around him kept shunning him, he always found comfort with the matrons. One of the oldest women running the orphanage taught him to direct his endless energy to dance, and he took to it like a moth to a flame. Some days he would take his dancing to the square of Vesuvia and dance for everyone to watch, his mane of red hair that he as teased for made him easy to spot and his dancing attracted crowds, he even caught the attention of a couple, who followed him back to the orphanage, and stepped up to adopt him the same day. The feeling wasn’t mutual, Felix ignored them as they called his name, until the elderly matron explained to his family that he refused to answer anyone if they called to him by name. The young couple decided that instead, they’d call out to him with a different name, one with no painful memories attached to it. By the time the sun had set, Felix was gone, and in his place, a child named Anwar was left, happier than he had ever been and he left with his mothers. Anwar gave his savings to his mothers and danced to earn more, so he could help his mothers achieve their dream of running a magic shop as a family. It took years, and Anwar was taught magic himself during those years, despite his issues with staying focused and his lack of control of his spells, his mothers were dedicated in their teachings and by the time he was a teenager, he and his family finally realized their dream of their own little shop, where they could show off their wonders to the world. After all the blessed luck they had as a family when tragedy struck, it hit them hard. One of his mothers became very sick suddenly, and none of the magic or doctors could heal her. His mother had succumbed to a sickness, unlike anything Vesuvia had ever seen before, a few days after their new count’s birthday. With one of the strongest magicians gone, debt began to pile up on the little family run shop, and Anwar, for all his efforts in running the shop with his mother and dancing beautifully for the people, they couldn’t make ends meet by themselves. He was left alone when word came that his mother had thrown herself into the water with one of the palace’s pet vampire eels. All alone, he expanded what the shop offered from watching miracles to selling magical items and even stepping into fortune telling, something Anwar was unnaturally gifted with, even at the beginning of his training. He can’t run a business by himself though, but he has been spotting a puff of white hair and a mountain of a man at times, with magic coming off of them in waves. Perhaps they might be able to help with his predicament…

Post Resurrection:

After being resurrected by Asra, Anwar had a difficult time relearning the things he had lost. Years were spent with Asra learning and relearning the same basics of magic that in the past seemed to flow to him so naturally. But despite this, and his general impairments and difficulty speaking, he was eager to get out and rejoin the world. Asra however, managed to hold Anwar back from going outside without him, and up until Asra began to leave, they worked well to get Anwar back to his former self. Though for the most part, Anwar was content to look forward to making new memories and finding a new path than to try and regain his lost memories. However, when Asra began to leave the shop to avoid harming Anwar by telling him the truth of what happened to him, Anwar became temperamental and angry with Asra, leading to a lot of conflicts. Most of it was one-sided arguments with Anwar shouting at Asra, enraged by him leaving him behind and not telling him why feeling like Asra was patronizing him or treating him like an idiot since he wouldn't explain himself. And Asra's resignation and refusal to fight back only infuriated and confused Anwar more. He couldn't comprehend that it was for his own good and while he shouted at Asra, he felt it was his fault for not being good enough for his master to take him along. During Asra's travels, Anwar would often just sit with his back against the door, waiting for his dearest friend to come back, rarely moving to even eat. It was during one such absence that he grew fed up with only being able to study the most basics of basics when it came to magic, or being told not to do it at all and simply stick to selling goods or doing card readings while Asra was away. Taking one of Asra's personal tomes, far more advanced than anything Anwar had attempted before, he attempted to cast a few spells alone in the shop. One spell went awry and tore open his cheek and due to his limited control over magic, he wasn't able to heal it. His healing caused it to scar, but not repair the damage done and by the time Asra returned, the damage to his face was already permanent. Even though he blundered so horribly, and even after Asra's despair over being unable to protect him again, when his master continued to leave he continued to study privately and as a hobby, began to dance again, though he was unsure as to why he felt so compelled to dance in Vesuvia's square. But after the plague, he was happy to try and bring smiles to the residents of the city he loved so much in any form he could.