#but like yeah no one was tricked into reading it by a predatory ad or something this was an Online Comic that just sort of

[pipiezexal]

dark themes and content in a piece of media are a natural expression of the human condition, and even the nastiest stories have their place, and the appropriateness can be judged based on intent, impact, etc.– this all said, I still think it's fucking hilarious how batshit tumblr discourse went over killing stalking bc its explicitly a horror story and the title is like a walking "dead dove don't open". like. i can't believe there's blood in my texas chainsaw massacre movie.

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt. 9)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: This part is really short, and honestly not that good. But seeing as this whole series is a mess, not much is new lmao. Thank you to @sawamooora for beta reading ilyyyyy <3 <3 <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!

3.4k words

Warnings: Descriptions of past dubcon, gaslighting.

Waking up, you wished the metaphorical blanket of comfort wasn’t ripped off of you the moment you opened your eyes.

It was an uncomfortable contrast.

While one blanket was ripped off, a real, physically tangible blanket weighed down on not just you, but the two sleeping men who had you sandwiched in between them. Seeing Hizashi on your right, and Shouta on your left was all you needed to be plunged into a dreadful confusion.

Your body hurt. An ache creeped through your spine as you sat up, only to realize you were completely bare. If the pain spreading across your skin wasn’t enough of a clue as to what had ensued less than twelve hours ago, then the evidence marring your body would be.

An intense throbbing radiated from your backside, prompting you to lean over on your elbow. Pulling down the covers, your eyes landed upon the black and blue patterns littering your skin, trailing down to the tops of your thighs. It seemed that both your wrists and hips were adorned with similar bruises, the only difference were those being distinctly fingerprint shaped. No one position completely alleviated the ache.

A sting emanated from your neck and shoulders as you lightly traced over the series of wounds, feeling remnants of bite marks and long scratches. In examining the bedsheets, you were convinced that the patterning of the fabric wasn’t tricking your mind. Little blotches of blood were just barely visible where you once laid.

An indiscernible cloud still hung over your mind, even if it was only slightly there by now. A fog that was muddling your memories, blocking whatever had gone down between you and the men at your sides. Nothing you could recall really felt concrete, at least for now―the possibility of memories returning over time being not all that unlikely. In the present however, the only indicators to tell you what happened were the marks they left behind.

And based on those―you were certain that it was never something you would’ve agreed to.

The morning sunlight was beginning to stream into the room, breaking through the small divides of the curtains. One glance at the alarm clock placed on Shouta’s nightstand told you that it was just over half past five.

On a Sunday morning, neither of them had anything to do. Naturally, the two were still sound asleep. You envied how peaceful they seemed, bathed in morning light, free from worry―a contrast to the nauseating unease you felt.

Becoming more and more horrified by the second, drowning in your thoughts and grasping at what they had done to you, the only one thing that stood out was your need to get the fuck out of there.

As carefully as possible, for fear that one move too harsh would wake one, if not both of the so called heroes, you peeled back the blankets from your battered form. Proceeding to crawl down to the foot of the bed, you gave a glance over your shoulder―just to confirm that the two were still sedated in slumber.

You let out a shaky breath upon confirming that they were, returning to swiftly taking your leave. But in the split second, when a whimper of pain left your lips, body doubling over at the burning enveloping your core as you settled your weight to stand—you were immediately sure their perception as trained heroes would alert them to the noise.

Though still, the steady rise and fall of Shouta’s chest, and the now relaxing sound of Hizashi's light snoring, put your nerves at ease―even if only a little.

Your clothes from last night weren’t in the bedroom, but neither were theirs. In finding a steady trail of frantically discarded articles leading to the living room, you could finally abandon the suffocating atmosphere that was their home. Freedom was the only thing on your mind as you hastily dressed yourself and grabbed your bag from the foyer.

_____

Hizashi Missed Call (7) 10:48 AM

Hizashi Text Message (16) 10:32 AM

Shouta Missed Call (3) 9:54 AM

Shouta Text Message (5) 8:12 AM

It would seem the shake in your hands would be uncontrollable until the foreseeable future, sighing as your phone lit up once again. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest idea to disappear with no warning, knowing how the two could be when they weren’t in the know of your every move.

Yet, if they knew just how downright terrified you were to stay until they woke up, maybe they’d understand your unceremonious leave of absence.

Unfortunately, they didn’t. Neither of the heroes seem to be all that knowledgeable of how they affected you, what they did to make you fear them.

For so long you tried to bury that anxiety you felt with them. They crossed the line of innocent concern a long time ago with their intrusiveness. And now, with the marks they left behind, spanning across your body and leaving a searing pain as an unignorable reminder of just who they were under their doting facade―you couldn’t simply disregard what this relationship had turned into.

It was toxic.

The safety they should provide feeling ripped away in their presence.

It was suffocating.

Even when you were alone, there always seemed to be an inescapable weight upon your shoulders, mind guessing as to when you’d see them next.

It took you until now to realize it, until they’d done something you couldn't quite ‘forgive and forget’―but you finally knew their tactics, what they’d been doing all along. They were predatory in every sense of the word, targeting your weaknesses to seek a self satisfying goal.

With each missed call and unread text message, you cursed yourself for not fighting your way out of their grasp before it became nearly inescapable. That, and there was a painful tinge of shame riddling your body with how you’d let them handle you.

Most of last night was all but impossible to recall, but the existing memories told a clear story. They made you feel good, really good. Even in whatever stupor they’d placed you under, it’d be impossible to forget the intense and repeated sensations the two men made you reach.

The thought alone had you nauseous, knowing the circumstances of how you ended up like that.

In any case, the idea at the forefront of your mind was that there’s no time like the present. Especially since you were quite literally adding fuel to the fire by ignoring them. You couldn't change what they’d done to you, but you could change what happened going forward.

It was simple―you never wanted to see the two faux heroes ever again.

Hizashi had been trying to contact you for the better half of the hour. But what really bothered you was how Shouta stopped doing so a while ago―better to know what he was up to than the radio silence that only made the pit in your stomach worse.

Though it wasn’t all that bad―it would be easier to stomach the voice of Hizashi, especially over the phone, given what you were about to tell him.

A new call came through. On the final ring, you answered.

“...―Shou’, I’m not gonna stop till she―”

With the sudden absence of noise, it wouldn’t be hard to believe that the call had ended. Though, silence between the three of you was never short. Never before, and still not now.

“...(Y/n)?”

Your jaw clenched in worry, hearing Hizashi use your first name instead of a not so endearing pet name. Laced with the exhausted sounding disbelief, you could tell even over the phone that he wasn’t doing so good.

Part of you almost forgot to respond, his voice alone bringing you back to last night. When you did, you winced at the unintentional shake which you couldn’t control.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh, thank god. What―Where did you run off to? Gave us a damn heart attack when you weren’t in the house.”

For someone so physically fit, Hizashi sounded like he just ran a marathon. Although, you suppose given the scare you put him through, the out of breath reaction was understandable.

And relatable, as your heart rate was beginning to pick up, anticipating how they’d soon handle your message.

“I, uh...I went home before you guys woke up…”

You could practically see the perplexed expression on his face, the sound of confusion coating his words.

A small laugh of disbelief came through the speaker. “Well there was no need for that, sweetheart.”

As if your body was trying to expel the extra energy from the adrenaline you were using to have a steady conversation with him, you began mindlessly wandering around your apartment.

“I just didn’t...feel comfortable? N-Not after what happened, I mean―last night shouldn't have happened, at all. So I left.”

The two heroes were back in the living room of their home, where they found your stuff missing in the morning. Shouta’s eyes narrowed at your words, hearing them clearly over the speakerphone. He shared a glance with his partner, the latter seated on the couch and nervously bouncing his leg.

“I’m not so sure I’m following. I don’t wanna embarrass you or anything, knowin’ how shy ya get, but...you were screamin’ our names last night. Don’t see how ya could’ve had a bad time, songbird.”

That detail in particular was one of the many occurrences from then that escaped you. With your memory being in shambles, it was pretty much a ‘he said, she said’ when it came to what happened.

...Pretty much.

The things that did stick, well...you almost wish they didn’t.

While all the fleeting events you knew of didn’t leave a good taste in your mouth, certain details made you sick to your stomach.

“I’ll never get sick of seein’ ya like this, songbird.”

The ones you couldn’t explain, and left far too many possibilities of theoretical context. Most of them being a worst case scenario for you.

“…You saying we should speed things up?”

Or, the ones that could be easy to pass off as playful teasing, if it weren’t for the darker undertones that made your wild imagination run rampant.

And when the things they whispered lowly into your ear became a jumbled mess of inebriated nonsense, you could still rely on memories of their touch. How they held you, early in the night when you weren’t completely lost to both natural and unnatural chemical influences. The sensations of frustration, only met with feelings of being restrained. They way it felt almost practiced, as if they were planning to do whatever they did long before it actually happened.

Unconsciously, you wandered into your bedroom, anxiously pacing all the while. The safety of its familiarity was sedating, to an extent.

You shook your head, trying to figure out how you’d get your concerns across to the two men. “That’s...That’s not the problem. Well it is but―the whole thing was just a bad idea.”

A muffled, irritated sigh could be heard. “No, something must be going on with ya. It’s probably better we talk this out in person, yeah? You home right now, sweetheart?”

In typical Hizashi fashion, he failed to respect your boundaries. You let out your own sigh of annoyance, spinning on your heel to face your bedroom’s window.

“There’s nothing―”

...You were most definitely certain that you closed your window before leaving yesterday.

Forgetting that you were in the middle of a very heated conversation, the hand that was holding your phone to your ear fell slightly. With the one that was free, you pulled the frame closed.

…

And it creaked back open.

The latch was busted.

Deft fingers grazed the metal frame, where it would typically snap shut, and stay shut. While it wasn’t untypical for these kinds of things to break, knowing that your apartment complex wasn’t exactly the newest, the fault didn’t sit right with you.

And, when you set your phone down, using one hand to hold the window closed, the other to keep it in place by fastening the lock, you found that too equally damaged.

...Almost like someone tried to leave out the window, in a hurry at that. Which would explain it being left open, and how the aggressiveness of the action would render the whole thing completely useless.

The sound of your name being called through the speaker brought you back to the main issue at hand. Picking up the phone, you could only continue where you left off.

“There’s nothing else to talk about. Whatever relationship the three of us have...I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

You managed to shock yourself with that, not actually believing you had it in you to really put your foot down.

Hearing the radio silence that followed, you knew he was more shocked than you were.

It made you wonder if he was more fucked up on one substance or another than you were last night—the sheer level of denial Hizashi was in over the whole thing.

“...Don’t talk like that, gonna give me another heart attack. Two in one mornin’, that’s awfully cruel, dontcha think?”

You were always one to shy away from confrontation, but now was not the time for that. The chance to cut your ties with them in this moment was as best as you would likely ever get.

“I’m not okay with what this has turned into, Hizashi. Not remotely comfortable, and—“

“Where are you, (y/n).”

...

Shouta’s voice.

“...This isn’t something we should discuss over the phone.”

It shamed you that all Shouta had to do was address you in that low, gravely voice of his, and you were instantly regretting every decision you’d made since picking up the phone. He certainly had an effect on you; no matter how many times you dealt with his tone, you could never quite get used to the sternness.

You swallowed dryly, still eyeing the unnaturally broken window.

“I-I’m not telling you where I am. You need to respect my decision on this…”

But if they couldn’t respect the privacy of your own home, why would they care about your newfound insistence?

...

The thought of the two men being culprits to the property damage popped intrusively into your head. Wildly associating it to be an explanation to the fragments of blissed out proclamations, whatever “seein’ ya like this” meant.

Your grip on the cellphone faltered, a shake seizing your hands.

No, they were heroes.

What purpose would they have breaking into your apartment?

Because if Hizashi was referring to somehow having already seen you in such a compromising position as the one him and his partner coerced you into…

You took a step back from the window.

“It’s not something you have to like, b-but neither of you guys cared about what I wanted last night.” With the slight crack in your voice, you winced knowing they could likely tell how hard it was to be firm in your ways with them, only making their job easier. “You...you went too far―that’s why I’m so upset.”

Shouta’s words, as always, effortlessly sent a pang of anxiety through your system.

“You didn’t know what you wanted last night, we made that decision for you. And judging by how you didn’t exactly try to put up a fight...” The small, almost inaudible chuckle only made his claims tear you apart more. “...I’d say you were more than happy with our decision.”

Never failing to find the exact things to say to shut you up, to put you in your place, Shouta remained confident with where things were going since he took control of the conversation.

You fumbled on your words, not quite sure of what would be the best argument to deny his statement.

“T-That’s―”

“That’s the truth, and you know it.”

I can’t even remember half of what happened last night, is what you wanted to say.

You wanted to scream at him, really. The two of them loved assuming they knew everything―what was best for you―despite the clear evidence that they in fact did not.

Naturally, all you could actually do was run from wherever this conversation was headed. It was obvious you would never reach an agreement with them. All they’d want to do was take, take, take. Make demands like they were in charge of you.

You knew that you’d never be able to get through to them.

And honestly, you didn’t have the energy to even try.

The point of answering their call was to finally end things, and that’s all that was left to do.

“...I don’t care what either of you think, whatever happened last night—I didn’t want it. Just...don’t try to contact me again. Goodbye.”

When you finally pressed the ‘end call’ button, you expected to feel that weight of their unrelenting presence lift off of you.

...It didn’t. But you probably shouldn’t be surprised. It’d take time to calm down, all you really needed to worry about now was returning your life to how it was before meeting the two all those months ago.

Another call came through in seconds, startling you where you still stood in your bedroom. Shaking slightly from lingering nervousness, you hastily declined it, not checking to see who it was from. Fingers flying across the screen, you blocked both Shouta’s and Hizashi’s contacts from your phone, proceeding to delete the existing conversations.

A small step towards getting back to normal.

Just one of many.

_____

Trying to conceal the slight limp in your step as you walked to work on Monday was both difficult and mortifying, each sharp pain shooting through your abdomen an unwelcome reminder. A cold shiver ran through you, prompting you to shove your hands in your pockets for warmth.

The changing seasons meant you’d have to work on moving around the shop’s layout. Bringing more delicate plants inside, swapping them out for seasonal ones that could handle the chill in the air. A task that you wondered if you would have to complete yourself.

With the days growing shorter, you noted the dusk already settling over the sky, drawing near the start of your 5pm shift. The orange hues dancing in the clouds were certainly a beautiful sight. Your gaze repeatedly found its way back to the sky as you walked down the sidewalk.

The closer you got to work, the more vibrant it seemed.

Strange indeed.You passed it off as the darkening night merely amplifying the remaining light of the setting sun.

Turning down another street, you could hear the approaching sound of sirens. A firetruck soon whipped past and continued down the road, making you shuffle towards the inside of the sidewalk. The piercing noise left an uncomfortable ringing in your ears.

When such an irritating reaction to the blaring never completely faded, you realized that was because it was just more distant sirens, multiple of them, sounding off in the direction you were heading.

You picked up your pace.

With another glance at the sky, you began to see not just the orange hue intensifying, but also a distinct plume of black smoke.

...

...It’s not...it can’t be…

Soon enough, your leisurely walk picked up speed. The ache in your gut from both physical wounds and growing anxiety making you nauseous.

Barely taking precautions to watch where you were going, you focused only on the direction of your shop, and the beacon of light that seemed to be right on top of it. Mindlessly placing one foot in front of the other, feeling like the end of the road before you turned the corner was only growing further away with each step.

The unpleasant smell of something burnt met your senses—faint, but there nonetheless.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, whatever was up ahead, it wasn’t good. But it couldn’t be what you were thinking.

Not your shop.

No. You’d turn the corner, and it would be fine.

The small boutique would be where it always was, nestled in between two buildings, waiting for you to start your shift.

Things would go back to normal, just like you’d planned.

…

The wailing sirens met your ears in full force. A stifling air, unnaturally hot and acrid washed over you, causing you to instinctively clamp a hand over your nose and mouth.

In gradually coming to the worst realization of the night, your free hand braced the brick wall of the building next to you, knees nearly buckling.

Thirty feet away, lighting up the street to be as bright as day, was your workplace completely engulfed in flames.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Double Surprise

Pairing: Bucky x black!reader

Summary: After you and the team finally defeat Thanos and bring everyone back, you give Bucky a little surprise

A/N: Everyone in Endgame is alive and Steve stays because I’m a sucker for happy endings. Also barely edited. 

Finally, you had him back. You had Bucky back after five long years.

The battle against Thanos wasn’t an easy one. You almost lost Nat and Tony in your fight against him, but luckily you didn’t.

Now, in true Tony fashion he wanted to have a party, but Pepper was able to convince him to keep it to a small dinner party for just the Avengers and their families. Since, the Avengers tower was demolished and Tony only had a cabin home, he volunteered your home as the host for the dinner since you had the largest home.

As you were setting up the table, you felt an arm grip you around the waist. “There’s no one here yet. How about I let you have your way with me right now?” Bucky whispered, kissing your neck.

“James Buchannan Barnes, if you don’t move around and let me get ready for this party, then you’ll go another five years without sex, ‘kay?” Instantly, Bucky moved away from you and helped you set up while calling you a meanie in the process.

“Hey, Y/N we’re here and we got two little surprises for you,” Steve called out from the front door.

This was the moment you were waiting for. You instructed Steve and Sam to come a little bit earlier than everyone else, so Bucky could have some time to adjust a bit.

“We’re in the dining room,” you yelled back.

You were finishing up the table when you heard the simultaneously calling of your name, “Mommy!!!”

“Mommy?” Bucky questioned as two black haired girls bum-rushed you.

Bending down you hugged your twin 4-years-old daughters. “Jamie, Stephanie, I want you to meet your-”

“Daddy!” The girls interrupted you and ran to Bucky. Each hugged onto one of his legs, while he stood there in shock.

“Buck,” Steve called out to him, trying to break him out of his trance.

Stephanie stared at her dad and the silent tears running down his face, then turned back to you. “Momma, why is daddy crying?”

You went towards your family and explained to Stephanie, “Its because daddy is so happy to see you after so long that his heart is so full that tears spilled out.”

Your girls may have been young, but they were extremely intelligent and emotionally aware. Both tugged on Bucky’s jeans to signal to pick them up and he happily obliged. “Its okay, Daddy.” Stephanie said, as both her and Jaime wiped the tears from his face and gave him a kiss. With that Bucky held your girls closer and motioned you to join the family hug.

It was a sweet moment until Sam decided to ruin it. “I just don’t understand how someone so ugly gets three beautiful girls in his life. Not fair, dude.”

Jamie turned around and furrowed her brows at Sam. She was the one who was definitely more like her father. “Shut up, pigeon head,” she yelled at Sam.

“Excuse me, Jamie Nicole Barnes,” you looked at her incredulously while crossing your hands across your body.

“Daddy said it first,” Jaime blamed her father with the quickness, knowing full well she wasn’t supposed to be calling anybody names.

Before you could reprimand your boyfriend and his namesake, your other daughter beat you to it. “That’s not nice Stephanie and Daddy. You should apologize to Uncle Sammy.”

“You told my kids to call him Uncle Sammy???” Bucky asked, obviously feeling betrayed by adding his frenemy to your family.

“Whatever you love him. Now apologize like your daughter said.”

“Sorry,” both Jamie and Bucky reluctantly apologize to Sam.

There was no more time to enjoy your little family moment, because soon after Tony came in with his family and the girls hurriedly jumped from their father’s arms to play with Morgan.

Bucky pulled your back against his front. “You know you’re in trouble, right?”

“Why?”

Bucky nipped your ear and growled. “Because that means you were pregnant during our first fight with Thanos and you thought it was okay to be out on the battlefield.”

Honestly, you forgot that Bucky would be mad about when you were pregnant. You were too caught up in the fact that him and the girls meeting each other for the first time. Fortunately, you couldn’t get into with Bucky, because more and more people were coming, and you had to play hostess.

///

Thankfully, the night finally ended, and it was just you, your girls, and Bucky. You noticed it was time to get the girls ready for bed when you were washing the mountain of dishes.

“Girls, c’mon its time to get ready for bed.”

Both girls had their dad on the floor, sitting criss-crossed applesauce while they were playing hairstylists with Bucky. Stephanie had one half of Bucky’s hair in little ponytails, trying to make them look like her little puffballs and Jaime had his other half of hair in plaits, her favorite hairstyle.

“Mommy can Daddy put us to bed,” Jamie asked. Then accompanied by her sister and their dad, all three gave you puppy dog eyes.

Rolling your eyes at the extraness of your family, you caved into their request. “Yes, he can. But it should take me as long to wash these dishes as for you two to get ready for bed. So, when I get up there you two little monsters better be sound asleep, ‘kay?”

A chorus of ‘yes ma’am’ was echoed throughout the room and the three of them rushed up the stairs. A part of you wanted to remind your children not to be running through the house, but this was their first time with their dad, and you didn’t want to spoil their fun.

“Oh James, don’t have my babies up past their bedtime.”

Bucky stopped at his place on the stairs and saluted you. “You got it, doll. See you in an hour.”

///

The dishes were washed in an hour, but you knew the girls would trick Bucky into reading them another book, so you didn’t go upstairs for another thirty minutes. When you did get up there, both little girls were in their respective beds, so you went on to check on the other Barnes.

You assumed Bucky would be asleep in your room, since getting two 4-year-olds was a struggle, but as you approached the door, you heard the muffle sounds of the tv. Once you entered the room, you knew exactly what Bucky was watching without glancing at the screen.

“Say hi to daddy, girls,” you heard your own voice on the tv.

“Hi Daddy!”

“Tell daddy how old you’re going to be.” At this point of the video, you knew the girls would be holding up four little fingers covered in icing thanks to their Uncle Steve.

Sensing your presence, Bucky paused the video and looked up at with red puffy eyes. “Um, you recorded them on their birthday for me?”

Sitting down next to Bucky, you grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek. “Yup. That birthday and all the other ones, and just about every other major event.”

Bucky’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he asked, “Why?”

“For the same reason I taught them all about their awesome dad. I knew we would get you back and I didn’t want you to feel like you missed out on their lives.”

Out of nowhere, your back was suddenly pressed against the bed as Bucky attacked your lips. Every one of your moans were swallowed by his lips on yours. Just as you thought you wouldn’t get a breath of air, Bucky pulled away and began kissing you all over your face, repeatedly telling you he loves you.

“Now that I’m finished telling you how wonderful you are, its time to talk about why you thought it was a good idea to fight a giant alien while pregnant with our twins,” Bucky said, still hovering over you, trying to assert his dominance.

You hooked one of your legs around Bucky’s and switched your positions. “Baby, that was five years ago, let it go. Also, it was basically the end of the world, so how could I not fight?”

Again, Bucky flipped you over, landing on top. “Well, next time there’ll be no fighting for you. Even if I have to tie you up.”

Quirking an eyebrow, you repeated, “Next time?”

Sliding your pants down, Bucky kissed your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re about to have a whole baseball team.”

“Well, you better get to it, Barnes. Its been five long years and you got a lot to make up for.”

Cracking a predatory smile, Bucky said, “I’ll happily oblige, doll,” making sure he gave you another baby that night.

[theprodigypenguin]

B16: "Are you sure you're not tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day." Jeddy/ Drunk James hitting on his bf? A terrible pick up line competition? I don’t know, just something fluffy and sweet please. - @mackpaton

I haaaad to write this because I’ve missed Jeddy and honestly this prompt gave me inspiration for one of my all time FAVORITE tropes. I’m gonna be honest one of the other reasons I chose this prompt is because you gave me cute ideas for the prompt, I actually really appreciate that you added ideas on what you’d like to see, it actually made this even easier to write, and I hope you enjoy what I came up with for you! There might be a tad bit of angst (mainly from Teddy overthinking and worrying about Drunk!James) but it’s mostly very cuddly and fluffy, because while I don’t like writing about drunk characters much, or alcohol in general, when I do, I looooove indulging in the clingy drunks! I should probably warn that there is talk of drinks getting spiked, so if that topic makes you uncomfortable please don’t read. If not, then enjoy!

James didn’t drink that much, if at all, and if he did, he would never drink enough to get himself drunk. He’d stated many times in the past how much he hated the hangover, how he’d black out and not remember a thing. It was just too unnerving and uncomfortable, so when he did drink, he did so in moderation, and normally only got drunk if he was alone with Teddy and not paying attention. Like the time they’d played “Never Have I Ever” with firewhiskey and James ended up so drunk he blacked out.

Teddy especially didn’t like when James drank when they were at a bar or club. He was fine if James wanted to get drunk at their flat where Teddy could keep an eye on him and ensure he didn’t do something stupid or hurt himself accidentally. When they were out with friends, sometimes Teddy couldn’t keep track of him, and had more than once found James clinging to someone he definitely didn’t know.

That was one of the biggest setbacks of James getting drunk, in addition to being a major perk. James wasn’t a grumpy or angry drunk, though he wasn’t exactly a happy giggly drunk either. No, James Sirius Potter was a clingy drunk. It was fun most of the time, because James would normally just cling to Teddy, which was completely fine by him. Whenever they went out, Teddy tries to ensure James was near at least one person he knew and trusted, usually Albus, who didn’t appreciate his brother clinging to him but didn’t argue when it happened, as if he understood and shared Teddy’s concern that the fool would throw himself at someone and get himself hurt if he wasn’t watched closely enough.

If enough trustworthy people were with James while drinking out, then things were normally fine, but there were the occasional incident, which seemed inevitable considering who James was, who he was related to. James was famous because his father was famous. People liked him, sometimes a little too much, and there had been plenty of half drunk male and female suitors offering him drinks when they went to bars or clubs. Teddy had told him countless times not to take anything given to him by a stranger, and normally James was so careful, but that night was just a tiny bit different.

One moment James was sipping a cocktail at a table with Albus and Teddy, the next he’d disappeared to the loo and was missing for a staggering ten minutes before Teddy got to his feet. “I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“I think you might worry too much, Ted,” Albus argued, chewing on a toothpick and leaning one elbow against the table, chin in his hand. “Not like he could’ve been attacked in a club like this.”

“You can’t blame me, you know what he’s like, especially when he drinks,” Teddy argued, standing straighter. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Or so he said, but it took less than thirty seconds to get halfway across the dance floor and catch sight of James just outside the loo, leaning against the wall with a nearly empty glass in his hand and a suspicious glaze to his eyes, two men and a woman standing around him laughing like he’d told a funny joke. One of the men hand a hand firmly on his shoulder, while the woman was dragging her fingers over his bare arm, a predatory smile on her lips that had Teddy bristling. 

He didn’t even mind letting his anger take over enough to change his hair from blue to an angry, aggressive red. This club was run by a wizard after all, the patrons there were either wizards, witches, or Muggles who knew about magic. That meant they recognized James, and luckily they would also recognize Teddy.

“Excuse me, but it appears you’ve stolen my boyfriend.” The three people turned to him with annoyed, bored expressions that immediately brightened in alarm and fear, releasing James, who seemed to recognize Teddy and grew brilliantly excited.

“That’s me! I’m his boyfriend!” His voice was slurred, shoving the glass he’d been drinking from against the woman’s chest before moving forward, wobbling on his legs but not seeming too bothered by it.

Teddy caught him when he stumbled, wrinkling his nose at the heavy stench of liquor as James giggled against his neck. How had they gotten him this drunk in ten minutes? Did they spike the drink with something? Drug him? Use some kind of illegal potion? He narrowed his eyes at the three would-be assaulters, wrapping one arm around the middle of James’ back, a hand against the back of his head as James mumbled incoherent drunk sentences into his neck, seeming completely unbothered and blissful as he snuggled and clung to Teddy.

“You know who I am, yeah?” Teddy asked, and the three nodded jerkily as Teddy narrowed his eyes more. “Then get out. I’ll be giving your descriptions to the owner, if you try spiking anyone else's drink, you’ll be dealing with the Ministry.”

“It’s just a little zing to get the party started!” one of the wizards squeaked, and Teddy felt himself seething, cradling James into his chest.

“Thank you for the verbal confession, that’ll be helpful when I tell the Head of Magical Law Enforcement you tried to take advantage of his kid.”

The three scrambled away in a panic, and Teddy took a breath to relax before looking down at James, one hand pushing his sweaty bangs from his face to see he was still smiling, arms wrapped around Teddy and clinging to the back of his shirt as he rubbed his face against his shoulder. He didn’t look hurt at all, and though his pupils were dilated, eyes glazed, and skin fevered, he didn’t seem uncomfortable. Just a little manic and drunk. He certainly didn’t seem to be in his right mind, but he was acting like he usually did when he was blackout drunk, snuggling into Teddy completely at ease.

After deciding there was nothing much to be done, Teddy squeezed his arms around James, leading him back towards where Albus was. “I’ve told you so many times not to take drinks from strangers. Are you seriously in your twenties, or are you a child? Honestly.”

“M’sorry, they said they got too much and to give it to my boyfriend, but I didn’t want to cuz I thought it was spiked so drank it by myself instead.”

Teddy winced. “They tricked you into drinking it by threatening me. That’s bloody low.” James giggled again, though this wasn’t funny at all, and Teddy sighed as he lead him to the table.

Albus gaped at him and the way his brother was practically dragging his feet. “Don’t tell me something actually happened?”

“Drugged,” Teddy said, and Albus’ mouth opened in shock as Teddy tried to get James to sit. “Can you get him some water? I’ll bring him home and keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t have a bad reaction to it.”

James clung to Teddy’s hand, pouting and yanking weakly at his arm until he’d sat down in the chair next to him, holding his arms out to invite James closer like he wanted. Albus was quick to rush for the bar as James cuddled up to Teddy, flinging his legs over the older man’s lap and slipping his arms around his shoulders before shoving his face against the crook of his neck and giggling.

“Y’smell good, Ted.”

“Do I?”

“Smell like me.”

“I doubt that, considering you smell like alcohol and only alcohol.”

“Ya’used my shampoo.”

“Haven’t had time to go to the store to replace mine. You don’t mind, do you?” Teddy almost jumped when James got impossibly closer, shoving his face behind Teddy’s ear and into the blue and red tinged hair at the back of his neck. The only reason Teddy could hear him was because he was so close to his ear, otherwise he never would have been comprehensible with the way his mouth was pressed into his neck.

“I like you smelling like me,” James hummed, and Teddy squinted, one arm around James’ shoulders and trying not to feel too effected by his boyfriend mouthing at his neck.

Teddy really didn’t like doing things like that when James was inebriated, so he just rubbed a hand over his back to sooth him as he sank his teeth into the bit of his neck just behind his ear.

“Jus’ like me,” he hummed, and Teddy rolled his eyes a little. This bit he was used to, the hands and the drunk giggles and the fact James was practically glued to him like a koala on a tree, mumbling bad pick up lines into Teddy’s skin as if they weren’t already dating.

“Do your legs hurt from running through my dreams all night?”

“My legs are fine.”

"Are you sure you're not tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day."

“I can imagine.”

“If you were a chicken, you'd be impeccable.”

“That one is clever, you hear it from Freddie?”

James had his mouth on Teddy’s cheek, giggling. “Kiss me if ‘m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

“Okay, love.”

“Go out with me,” James tugged the collar of Teddy’s shirt, pouting.

“We’re already dating,” Teddy said, and James’ eyes widened in shock.

“Here, they finally gave me water,” Albus said as he stepped back up to the table with a glass of water that Teddy took from him. “I told the bartender what happened, too.”

“I chased them out already so it’s fine.” Teddy tried to give James the water, but he just gave a noise of protest and hid against Teddy’s neck. “Jamie, you gotta drink this.”

“I want a Bloody Mary.”

“You’re drunk enough, honey.”

“I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.”

“Okay.”

“If I followed you home, would you keep me?”

“We already live together, got no choice at this point.”

“Do you think he’ll remember any of this?” Albus asked, and Teddy shook his head as he managed to lift James’ head up and ease the water into his mouth.

“He never normally does. I hate when he gets drunk like this.”

“Well, I’m gonna have to tell him all the cheesy shit he’s saying,” Albus sighed. “It’s sort of my job.”

Teddy just snickered, setting the empty water glass onto the table before scooping James into his arms and standing. “Be my guest. I’m taking him home now before he starts doing something weird in public, like strip.”

James pulled at the front of his shirt, face in Teddy’s neck. “Strip, I’ll strip, ‘s hot.”

“No, James, keep your clothes on.”

“Oh boy,” Albus snorted. “Yeah take him home. Call me later and let me know if he’s okay.”

“Will do.”

Teddy could only carry James through their flat towards their bedroom when he’d reached home, lying him down on the bed and pulling off his shoes as James covered his face with his arms, mumbling nonsensical words as he rolled over onto Teddy’s side of the bed, hiding his face in the pillow there and humming. Teddy kicked his own shoes off to lie down with James, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him so he was lying on Teddy’s chest instead of his pillow.

“Love you, Teddy,” he mumbled drunkenly, and Teddy hummed, kissing his temple.

“I know, I love you too. Just don’t take drinks from strangers, okay? You’re cute like this, but you make me worry. Okay?”

“M’kay…” James didn’t seem to understand what he was agreeing to, so Teddy decided to just lecture him in the morning.

The poor man was going to have the hangover of a lifetime.

Send in prompts: Dialogue Prompts | Miscellaneous Prompts

[theromanticrationalist]

Short Treks: My Thoughts

Now that I’ve finally caught up on Short Treks, I thought I would share my thoughts on the series and the future of Star Trek. 

Short Version: It’s a bizarrely mixed bag.

Now for the long version. (SPOILERS)

Short Treks: Runaway

I love Sylvia Tilly (who doesn’t?), and this new era of Star Trek has certainly given us some interesting and lovely characterizations. This was a pretty solid short story, and I loved that we got to spend more time with Tilly. I also enjoyed how they tied this story into season 2 of Discovery, which added more depth to her character. Yes, Tilly just makes friends with random alien queens. It’s just what she does.

I also appreciated Po’s dilemma in her fears and struggles with her people about the coming changes of them becoming a warp-capable society. Thanks to Po’s ingenuity and talent, she has given her people a way to stabilize Dilithium crystals, but Po has done this out of a love of science and creativity. She fears the exploitation of her discovery and inventions for selfish gain. As a creative myself, I could relate to Po’s anguish as she desires the purity of her creation’s purpose, the soul, to be preserved above all else. #TheStruggleIsReal

In the end, though, both Tilly and Po mature and grow a little, which was satisfying to see. I look forward to seeing Tilly’s continued trajectory to her inevitable captaincy! 

Short Treks: Calypso

Another really solid story, but the only thing was that it didn’t feel like Star Trek to me. It just seemed like a beautiful and haunting science fiction story, maybe something that would be on Amazon’s Electric Dreams (love that series!). It certainly has some interesting implications for Discovery’s future, but overall it felt out of place in the lore. Despite that, this is probably the strongest of the Short Treks in writing, pacing, and emotional impact. Give me a love story with an AI/robot any day of the week.

Short Treks: Brightest Star

This was the one episode of the first batch of Treks that I was most excited about seeing. I think the strongest character and ideas of this new era of Star Trek is the character of Saru and his people, the Kelpiens and their predatory “overlords”, the Ba’ul. The planet dynamics of these species and how they’ve evolved together, and the mystery of how they are inexplicably linked is absolutely fascinating to me. Unfortunately, I feel like the writers really squandered the full potential of the ideas, which disappointed me greatly. 😞However, despite my disappointment, I did enjoy this story, albeit it was much to short. I think it needed to be 20 or 30 mins to really give the full impact of Saru’s struggle as an unusual Kelpien who looks up at the stars and speaks to them. But we don’t really get an explanation of how Saru is able to understand technology at all. We just have to accept that “he’s different”, so he just has the ingenuity to figure things out. I would have loved to have seen him when he was younger giving us examples of how his unorthodox thinking manifested in other ways in order for us to believe that he would be smart and capable enough to tinker and use technology beyond his people’s understanding. It would have also given us a chance to really immerse ourselves in the culture and mindset of the Kelpiens, to understand the psychology that shapes Saru’s very identity. In short, WE NEEDED MOAR KELPIENS AND SARU.

Overall, though, this episode was one of the very few that felt the most like Star Trek, as it exemplifies themes of questioning, seeking, searching, and asking and how that curiosity can lead us to worlds and realms beyond - that we are made for so much more than we could possibly imagine. 

This story also gave me Isaac Asimov vibes, which was cool.

Short Treks: The Escape Artist

This one was really disappointing and, frankly, very dull. Don’t get me wrong, Rainn Wilson does a fabulous Harry Mudd. He really adds nuance and cleverness to a character that originally was pretty one dimensional and campy. However, this was the one episode that NEEDED to be shorter, as it went on for far too long, and the pay off wasn’t worth it. It also left me feeling like, what was even the point? Why did they make this short story about Harry Mudd without telling us anything new about him? Yeah, we know he is conniving con man, we get it. It also doesn’t make sense continuity wise in Star Trek because I thought Doctor Noonien Soong was the leading roboticist/android expert, and Data wasn’t anywhere near to looking as life-like as Mudd’s replicas. Somehow Mudd is able to create perfect hosts-from-Westworld androids that sweat, bleed, bruise, and otherwise act like organic matter, able to express the full nuanced range of human emotion as to be clone-like duplicates of himself. Um. Okay??? I guess this lone con man fugitive has made these ingenious and world-shattering discoveries and inventions in robotics and technology. Yep.

Short Treks: Q&A

The absolute best of the Short Treks, IMLTHO. (Yeah, I may be biased...) You can read my thoughts on this episode here: X. 

Short Treks: The Trouble With Edward

Yeah. So this one is W-E-I-R-D, even by Star Trek’s standards. I also didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why it was made or why it took the tone that it did. It was funny, yeah, uncomfortably amusing, like we were watching The Office: Star Trek Edition, but WHY. Did someone ask for this? What is going on? WHY DID THEY HAVE THAT PARODY CHILDREN’S CEREAL COMMERCIAL AT THE END ABOUT EATING TRIBBLES WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING RIGHT NOW

It also doesn’t fit continuity-wise in the timeline. If someone at Starfleet was responsible for making tribbles the way that they are, then how come Kirk and the Enterprise weren’t notified as such? McCoy was the one who examined and discovered why they were breeding so much, but he could have just looked up Starfleet’s records apparently and got all the answers he needed. 

I’m not one of those fans who gets upset about continuity errors in world building, but really, there are just some things you should obviously know better not to do. 

Personally, I think the writer’s room was on Stamet’s mushrooms when they wrote this one, tbh. 😉

Short Treks: Ask Not

This was one was just ridiculous. The scenario wasn’t plausible, it was predictable, and the implications were kind of disturbing. For one, we all knew Captain Pike hadn’t turned. Yes, this perfect, plush, teddy bear of a man who is THE NUMBER ONE Space Dad of All Timeᵀᴹ who has absolute, unwavering integrity and honor is someone we are supposed to buy as having committed mutiny, or at least convince us that Cadet Thira Sidhu buys this obvious load of malarky. 

Uh, I don’t think so.

Also...THIS IS SO MESSED UP WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR CADETS. Why would you put them through this manipulative farce just to test their devotion, commitment, and integrity?! If I were this cadet I would be seriously angry and upset that I was tricked and made to go through the emotional turmoil, trauma, and distress of standing up against your commanding officer in a life endangering scenario! What the heck?? What sick, perverted, twisted mind thought of this cruel -

Oh.

Haha, okay so I think it is kind of hilarious just how merciless Number One is that she would actually come up with this kind of test. This episode was TOTALLY worth the little Spock and Number One Mutual Appreciation Society moment, as Spock, with stars in his eyes, admires Number One’s cutthroat tactics. I mean in AOS, Spock did come up with the Kobayashi Maru so it is all making sense. However, at least in the Kobayashi Maru the cadets knew they were taking a test. Cadet Thira Sidhu did not. The lighthearted and warm fuzzy ending to this episode did not at all jive with what had just happened. It would have been much more interesting to have dealt with the implications of Number One’s test on the cadets, while expanding on her character as well as telling us why Pike would even partake of and allow this to happen, but oh well. 

Short Treks: Ephraim and Dot

The idea? Creative. The characters? Cute. The animation? Really nice with an old school flair. And yet I was once again left feeling like what was the point? I mean I’m sure 3-5 year olds would enjoy watching this little short, like something akin to Looney Tunes IN SPACE, but really there wasn’t much substance here. Frankly, it just seemed like it was a nostalgia trip and Easter egg dump. 

Short Treks: The Girl Who Made The Stars

This is another very creative idea with excellent animation and an interesting look into Michael’s childhood and the ideas that shaped her. I suppose it accomplishes what it sets out to do, and is pretty effective, but personally it didn’t do much for me. It was sweet and inspirational and that’s about it. 

Short Treks: Children of Mars

This was a prologue of sorts before Picard begins, and so it was interesting to have our first look into what we will come to expect from that series. It was, undoubtedly, emotionally effecting, as it actually brought tears to my eyes. However, I did have an issue with it and I was trying to figure out what that was. I then realized - it felt like a commercial. Like one of those long commercials that tells a poignant little story in order to sell an idea or product, whatever it may be. It was too glossy, stylized, and seemed like it could be used as a kind of propoganda-esque promotion of Starfleet and its ideals. I know that is a kind of cynical way of viewing it, but that is how it felt to me in the way it chose to tell its story. I think if the girls had been allowed to be real characters we could have immersed ourselves in their story and what the both of them ended up having to face together in the end. It would have felt much more real and earnest, instead of just tugging at our heartstrings in a syrupy kind of way. 

Also, it kind of gave me The Expanse vibes. Just an observation. 

Conclusion

These Short Treks, and subsequently the CBS era of the Star Trek franchise, are a really weird mix bag for me. On one hand, I do admire their creative risks as they decide to try new ways of telling Star Trek stories, which I know not all those in the fandom appreciate or desire. Yet on the other hand, most of the time the writing is just poorly done and generic, so it all seems to just cancel itself out. 😕

Creating memorable, enjoyable, and original characters: 100%

The level of Feelzᵀᴹ felt from the storytelling and acting: 1000%

Creativity through set, costumes, and stylistic approaches and ideas: 100%

Writing: Subpar, 20%

Science: Not Even Science

In the end it seems like those running this new era of Star Trek have a lot of heart, but not enough analytical thinking or patience to take the time to build the necessary character and plot logic that makes for much more satisfying storytelling. Just saying “Space, the final frontier” a thousand times doesn’t make this Star Trek, and making us feel things through excellently composed music and acting isn’t good writing. (Also, people saying that they love science all the time doesn’t mean they are actually doing science!) So, I don’t expect much from this CBS era, but I’ll be watching it and enjoying it anyway. I’m Star Trek trash. What can I say?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Source for images: X

[the-captains-ayebrows]

Deal With It (Let’s make this interesting) 1/2

Rival Poker Players AU.  Guys, you know what inspired this. Modern AU, but with a kind of Captain Wench flavor. Rivals to Lovers. Heavily influenced by the 1994 movie Maverick, but you don’t need to know anything about the movie or really very much about poker to hang with this. 

Rating: T for this chapter (mostly due to language), but M for the next part and I’m not chickening out this time

Summary: Emma Swan, poker hustler with more than just card tricks up her sleeve, meets Killian Jones, a fellow gambler, at a shady little casino down south. After a memorable first encounter, they seem to keep finding each other, but are they really ready to gamble with their hearts? Emma just doesn’t know if she can deal with it. 

[AO3]

Emma hates this place. Over her years of hustling poker, she’s become accustomed to the bleeps, dings and 8-bit digital “music” (sarcastic quotation marks very much intended) that make up the constant, mind-numbing background noise in a casino. She can handle the smell of stale cigarette smoke and human bodies that could use a break from gambling to, you know, actually shower or something. Even the watered down cocktails don't bother her. Hell, those are probably a blessing in disguise - keeps her mind sharp without her having to order something non-alcoholic which might tip off her marks.

But this piddly-dink river casino hotel on the outskirts of Nowheresville, Louisiana? Really bringing her down. Maybe it’s the general air of despair and decay. Maybe it’s the humidity. She’s already regretting not putting her hair up. It’s starting to do that weird wavy thing it does sometimes, a few tendrils sticking to her neck. Not to mention her skinny jeans - great for attracting a mark, but not exactly comfort wear - are clinging unpleasantly to her legs, making her want to squirm.  Or maybe she's just still pissed that she nearly broke the heel off of her favorite pair of fuck-me pumps on a ripped spot in the tacky patterned carpet. It’s all just so irritating and depressing.

She could’ve gone someplace nicer, true. Then she’d be spending too much of the money she’s trying to win off these poor bastards to pay for her lodgings. Or she could sleep in her car. Again. On this wet, drizzling mess of a night. Yeah, no. Fuck that.

Oh. Hey, look. She won again.

That’s why I keep coming to places like this, Emma reminds herself. The pickings are almost too easy.

Emma smiles sweetly, fluttering her heavily mascaraed eyelashes at the man to her right - the one with the thick eyebrows and currently dour expression. It had been a stroke of much needed luck picking up the pair of Brits at the bar upstairs. The younger, dark-haired one with the eyebrows was flush with cash from a big win at the roulette table, and the slightly older, scruffy one with the kind eyes had just had some luck shooting craps.  A little flirting and preening later, and they’d happily agreed to teach her a thing or two about five-card draw. Suckers.

“Wow, I’m really on a roll tonight! Gosh, I never win anything. Must be beginners luck!”

The bubbly, air-headed act is her bread and butter, but sometimes she can’t stand the sound of her own voice while she’s at it. She’s a professional, though, so she keeps the cringing on the inside and a big smile on the outside as she reaches for the pot.

Thunk!

Emma pauses raking in her winnings as a thick leather wallet lands on the table next to her.

“Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt.”

Her eyes pan upward toward the intruding voice and in striking contrast to the silken accent of the speaker, she finds more leather in the form of a black vest pulling taut over a lean torso. Above that, a dark patterned shirt reveals a swath of chest hair and the glint of a silver chain dipping down beneath the barely-buttoned fabric, but above that… Emma blinks as her eyes lock with the bluest pair she’s ever seen.

The man quirks a cheeky grin, and laughs to himself. “Actually, yes I do,” he continues, those blue eyes drifting unsubtly downward, practically caressing the lines of Emma’s cheek, throat, and decolletage. “Is this seat taken, love?”

Handsome, money to burn, and he’s already taken the bait? Jackpot. Emma returns his grin with a nearly predatory one of her own, and gestures to the empty chair beside her. “It is now.”

The man inclines his head politely, the motion reminiscent of a courtly bow. “My thanks, lass.”

Before the newcomer can sit down, the guy with the eyebrows pipes up. “I like the game the way it is.”

Emma shoots him a dirty look, remembering at the last second to color it a bit more pouty and pleading. What was his name again? Will Something-or-other. Hardly caring anymore now that a much juicier mark has appeared, she’s about to tell Will to stuff it when the newcomer speaks again.

“Now, I’ll have you know I bring all sorts of plusses to the table. I’m a firm believer in good form. I hardly ever bluff and I never, ever cheat. Nothing up my sleeve, but this old thing here.” At that, he raises his left arm brandishing a hook-like prosthetic where his hand would have been.

Emma keeps her face arranged in a mask of amused interest, but that hook sets off a warning bell in the back of her mind. She’s heard some talk about a gambler that people refer to as “Hook,” but surely it’s not him. That’d be a pretty damn on-the-nose nickname, and besides, what would some up and coming hotshot be doing in a dump like this?

“Sounds like a load of rubbish to me, mate,” Will grumbles, but the other man only laughs again.

“Aye, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Get off it, Scarlett,” says the scruffy guy sitting across from her. Robin, Emma thinks. “What good’s an empty seat?”

“Indeed,” the stranger agrees. “And as an added bonus, I promise to lose for at least an hour.”

He says it with a nonchalant shrug and flourishing hand gesture as if he hasn’t a care in the world, but Emma can see the calculating glint in his eyes as he sizes up the other two men. Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a hustler. Okay. So, Hook it is. The best Emma can figure, he must be here for the same reasons she is - to get in a little practice and pad the ol’ cash reserves. She hadn’t planned on any real competition tonight, but now her skin tingles at the idea of an actual challenge. Nothing more delicious than playing a player.

“Alright then,” Will answers at length, apparently oblivious to the trap he’s just walked into. “You're bloody bonkers, but alright. I'll take your money.”

“Cheers, mate.” The man takes the seat next to Emma, and once situated, offers her his hand. “Now where are my manners? We haven’t been properly introduced. Killian Jones.”

Suddenly glad she gave Will and Robin a fake name because no way in hell does she want Killian or Hook or whoever this guy is to know her real one, Emma delicately reaches her hand toward his, palm down and wrist bent so he has to curl his fingers around hers leaving her hand on top. Come on, Casanova. Kiss my hand. You know you want to.

“I’m Anna Nolan. It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, love,” he purrs, and - yep. There it is. He’s leaning down for the hand kiss, except - Oh.

He maintains eye contact the whole time. The kiss is brief, but the contrast of soft, warm lips and harsh stubble sends goosebumps up her arm. Emma widens her eyes and giggles as she knows she should to keep character, but she has to admit to being a bit impressed. What could have been extremely cheesy, he’d managed to execute to perfection so that - yeah, okay, that was actually kind of arousing. Or maybe it’s just that the guy is really, like, really pretty. Geez. Keep it together, Swan. And by “it” I mean your legs.

Emma hears someone clear their throat. “Shall I wait until the two of you are done making eyes before I deal?” Robin asks. Emma feels the beginnings of a blush creep up her cheeks (well, at least it’s in character), as Hook answers.

“Sorry, mate. Let’s play some poker.”

-/-

An hour later, Emma has a healthy stack of chips in front of her. She’s thrown enough hands that Will and Robin don’t seem suspicious. Hook, though… he’s another matter. He hasn’t said anything that makes her think he’s onto her. Hasn’t broken his own character of bored-guy-on-a-business-trip. There’s just something about the way he looks at her. It’s more than the cool appraisal hidden behind an affable demeanor that he’s been using on the other men. Emma isn’t quite sure what to make of him and it’s unsettling.

She could walk away now. His promised hour of losing is over and she knows he’s about to flip the switch. She could get up and go cash in her chips and never see this guy again. That would be the smart thing to do. But…

“Gentleman and lady.” Hook nods to Emma with one dark eyebrow raised, then picks up the deck of cards. “According to the clock over there, my hour has passed.”

Hook turns his hand palm up, still holding the cards. A quick, deft movement of only his pinkie finger cuts the deck in two, his forefinger separating the halves until the soft pressure of his thumb somehow manages to glide one half into the middle of the other, uniting the cards into a single unit again. Simple, elegant, and without a doubt the hottest fucking thing Emma has ever seen.

He casts a self-satisfied smirk around the table. “Now the fun begins.”

Oh, yeah. Fun is definitely the word. No way on earth she’s leaving now. Emma meets Hook’s gaze, sinking her teeth into her lower lip with feigned innocence and relishing the way his eyes darken and his tongue darts to the corner of his lips.

Game on.

-/-

He’s good, she’ll give him that. He wasn’t lying earlier when he said he rarely bluffs, too, which is becoming a problem for Emma. She’s good at reading people, but her true talent is knowing when someone is bluffing - it’s practically her superpower - and how the hell is she supposed to call his bluff if the man never fucking bluffs? It’s absolutely frustrating.

Speaking of frustrations… she’s had to rely on her other tactics a little more heavily than usual in order to get a leg up on him, and oh, does she ever want to get her legs up on him. Preferably on either side of his stupid, smirking face.

She’d started out playing it straight. Emma could run probabilities in her sleep, knew her chances with any number of different hands. She already had a handle on all of Will and Robin’s tells. Usually that’s enough to give her the upper hand, but Hook has walls that go well beyond a simple poker face. She can read him well enough to sense that much, but slipping past those defenses is another matter altogether.

So, she’d tried a bit of subtle distraction: “accidentally” brushing her knee against his, crossing her legs so her toe grazed his calf, absently toying with the ends of her hair so her fingertips trailed across the top of her breast. He was affected, she could tell. Her livelihood demanded that she watch her fellow players like a hawk, taking in every subtle shift in mannerism, and he’d definitely - ahem - shifted himself a time or two. Emma had been feeling pretty damn proud of herself at one point after successfully bluffing her way into a win against him, but then…

Then the bastard had begun to return fire. A poker chip. One fucking poker chip had been his weapon of choice, flipping the thing from knuckle to knuckle like something out of an old-timey gangster movie, dextrous fingers rolling like ocean waves, over and over. A few minutes of that and she’d had to fold a hand after she’d lost track of the action on the table.

The way he’d fumbled his glass of rum later in the game when she arched her back in a catlike stretch, pulling her hair to one side and kneading at a phantom kink in her neck? Highly satisfying. But, it’d be a whole lot more satisfying if her chip stack was a little less scant. It’s starting to look like she’s going to have to sleep in her car tonight after all, and-

Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’s scratching behind his ear. He’s finally doing it.

Hook’s finally fucking bluffing and Robin just folded. Will’s already raised once, but Hook’s about to buy the pot it looks like. It’s enough money to give her a nice (so long as you don’t look at it under a blacklight) bed to sleep in tonight, and she doesn’t have the goddamn cards to do anything about it.

Emma very reluctantly folds, and Will right after her, but as Hook reaches for his winnings, Will reaches for Hook’s cards.

Emma’s eyes widen as Hook raises his hand to stop Will.

“It never pays to look, mate.” His voice remains even, but his eyes carry a warning.

Will stands and picks up the cards, his expression thunderous as he slings them back to the table where they land face up. “I thought you said you never bluffed, mate.”

Hook, to his credit, keeps his cool and sets about stacking his chips. “I said, I hardly ever bluff. That was one of the ‘hardlies’.”

Robin attempts to placate Will, but his reasonableness goes unheeded. Will rounds the table, moving between Emma and Hook and pounds his fist on the table top knocking over what’s left of Emma’s stack. Hook doesn’t flinch, doesn’t so much as spare him a glance.

“You cheated! You’ve been cheating this whole sodding game!”

Hook waits a beat, first looking down at Emma’s spilled chips then sliding his tongue to the corner of his mouth in thought. All nearby conversation has stopped, even the tired-eyed waitresses are avoiding their table, and Emma can feel the prickle of anticipation, of eyes turned their way to see what will happen now.

Hook slowly raises his eyes to Will’s face and stands with the predatory grace of a jaguar. “What exactly did you think I was doing that first hour, eh? I was learning your tells. Incidentally, your particular weakness is when you shuffle your front cards to the back and switch them all around. Looks a bit shifty.”

It’s almost funny, Hook’s flippant manner of speech, except it seems to only make Will more irate. Emma quietly slips from her chair, moving back toward Will’s recently vacated seat to give the boys some room to vent their testosterone. Robin seems to have had a similar idea, giving Emma a polite nod as he takes his winnings and heads off toward the cashier cages. She’d just sky out of there, too, if it weren’t for her chips, but there’s not a good way to grab them and run now that they’re spread over a quarter of the table.

“I just called you a cheat.” Will draws himself up to his full height, stepping into Hook’s space, but again Hook simply gives him that infuriating smirk.

“You also called me, eh… bonkers was it? But I reckoned you were only teasing.”

At that Will snaps, grabbing Hook by the front of the vest and drawing his fist back seemingly with every intention of making quite the impression on Hook’s perfect smiling teeth. But before a single punch is thrown, a mountain of a man in a casino uniform - clearly a bouncer - appears from the crowd snagging Will by the arm and shirt collar and jerking him to the side.

“Alright, that’s enough,” the man shouts. “All three of you. Cash in your chips and get the hell out.”

Shit. I can’t get kicked out now! I haven’t won nearly enough money. Emma puts on her best smile and saunters over to the bouncer, who has just released his hold on a red-faced Will. “Excuse me,” she begins sweetly, glancing at the golden plastic name tag on his jacket. “Anton. Did I just hear you say all three of us have to leave? Because I didn’t-”

Anton cuts her off with a heavy sigh and long-suffering expression. “I’m sorry ma’am, but you’re out, too. You’re just going to have to find another game.”

-/-

‘Another game,’ he says. Like it isn’t past midnight and I’m not out in the boondocks. Nope. Go find another game. Emma continues her internal grumbling all the way to the cashier’s cage. She accepts her meager winnings and decides since she can’t afford both a room for the night AND have enough left to be worth squirreling away for her entry fee, she can at least go up a level to the bar - the real one - and have a drink with a solid amount of alcohol in it.

She sits down and orders her standard gin and tonic, when she hears a familiar accent. Turning her head slowly, she sees Will Scarlett sitting at a table of rough looking dudes who maybe have a full set of teeth between the bunch of them (and honestly what the hell is with all the Brits in this place? Is there a Rugby tournament in town or something?). He’s going on and on about this ‘poncy twat’ who hustled him with the help of some ‘little blonde tart’ and suddenly Emma has an idea of exactly the new game she intends to play. She just hopes he hasn’t left the hotel yet.

Emma finishes her drink and slips from the bar. A few drunken giggles and she’s managed to convince the desk clerk she’s lost her room key, and can she please get a spare? It’s under the name Jones. Yes, Killian Jones. More giggling and the assurance that the clerk is an absolute lifesaver and she’s on her way.

When she reaches Hook’s door, though, she hesitates. She knows she’s rusty. She hasn’t used that skill set in a while, relying mainly these days on her prowess at the poker table,  but petty larceny has got to be like riding a bicycle, right? Besides, the money is just too good to resist. So shoulders squared, hair fluffed, and neckline lowered, she knocks twice.

“Who is it?” The smooth tenor of Hook’s voice is muffled by the door between them, but it still manages to send a shiver up her spine.

Emma takes a deep breath, smiling even though he can’t see her just to get the right tone to her voice. “It’s Anna. Anna Nolan from our game earlier?”

“One moment, love.”

The click of a lock sounds and he opens the door, leaning a shoulder casually against the jamb. She’s struck again by his appearance, the lean muscled frame, artfully mussed dark hair and well-formed facial features that may as well have been carved out of marble. He’s carefully still, clearly waiting on her, but even in his stillness his eyes dance and his tongue, well… the things that tongue can do. Geez, she can only imagine the things that tongue can do.

Emma bats her eyelashes, letting a touch of breathiness into her voice. “I probably shouldn't be doing this.”

He grins at her, his eyes roving over her face. “You’re simply standing in the hallway, love, I believe that's legal in this state.”

“I mean getting involved.” She looks down shyly, twirling a lock of her hair before letting herself meet his eyes again. “But here's the thing - I overheard Will Scarlett downstairs. He was shooting his mouth off about you.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “Again, darling, while I appreciate the concern, besting someone at cards isn't illegal either-”

“Yeah, but cheating is. That's what he's going on about. He even implied that…” Emma looks down again, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as if she thinks she’s about to say too much. She’s really afraid she may be overselling this, but then his fingers gently curl beneath her chin, raising her gaze back to his and she’s sure it’s working.

“Implied what?” He ducks his head just a smidge, encouraging her to go on.

“That I was your accomplice.” Emma shakes her head, stepping back. “I probably shouldn't be around you. I don't want to get in trouble, but I had to warn you.” Her eyes bore into his, and he’s there. Right where she wants him. Target locked, time to go in. “I didn't- I mean I just couldn't-”

Emma grips the lapels of Hook’s jacket with both hands, half dragging his mouth to hers, half tackling him into the wall beside the door at the same time. For two seconds, she’s in complete control, relishing her victory as his initial shock wears off, and yeah those lips of his feel even better against her mouth than they did on the back of her hand earlier, but she’s got this. She’s got him.

Until she doesn’t. Until he’s kissing her back with a knee-melting, toe-curling passion, not bothering to break for air, but rather stealing her breath as his lips - those gorgeous, firm yet supple lips - have her almost forgetting what she’s supposed to be doing right now. Okay, so maybe she does forget for a second, but someone was moaning and someone’s hand was in the other’s hair, maybe tugging just a little and - Get a grip, Swan. No, not that kind of grip. Focus, dammit.

Emma slowly moves one hand from his lapel to his chest, allowing herself a much deserved detour through his thatch of chest hair before continuing down his ribs and around to his back. Mmmmm… He feels so tight and compact beneath her greedy fingers, she really hopes she’s going to find what she’s looking for in his pants, but then the bulge she’s seeking hits the back of her wrist. The familiar swell of a thick billfold protruding from the inside pocket of his jacket. Gotcha.

She doesn't pull away immediately. No, that would be too obvious and she doesn't want to tip him off. (Yeah, that's it.) So, she takes a slightly ragged breath, her forehead pressed to his and dives back in for another go. As his tongue slips past her lips and he swallows her moan (oh, it was definitely her this time), she can feel the way their bodies sway and rock in sync, almost like they're dancing, almost like she better put an end to this right now.

She forces herself to pull back, taking his lower lip with her before she breaks the kiss completely. She knows her chest is still heaving. His hair is a glorious mess from her handiwork, his lips red and a little swollen, and he looks so beautifully wrecked, so perfectly fuckable that she definitely, definitely needs to get her ass out of here.

Hook speaks between panting breaths, his eyes dark as midnight. “That was-”

She stops him with a finger to his lips, and gives him the big sad eyes. “A one-time thing.” She drops her hand and turns to walk away, her face the picture of longing and regret, and damned if she doesn't actually feel it. “I better go before-”

“Wait!” She feels his hook on her arm and only has a split second to think Oh, shit, before he’s spinning her around.

“How-” He pulls her close to him, his voice low and rasping.

“Could I possibly-” He wraps his arm around her waist, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.

“Go on-” He’s leaning in, his breath against her lips and Emma’s heart is racing. Whether with excitement or fear, she isn’t sure.

“Without-” Before his lips touch hers, he turns his face to the side. His beard scrapes her cheek as his mouth ghosts against the shell of her ear.

“My wallet.” Emma’s heart stops dead at the words and Hook pulls back, fixing her with a hard stare. “If you don't give me back my money, I shall have your shapely arse arrested.”

“Dammit!” She pushes hard against his chest, breaking herself out of the intimate (and trapped, she realizes) posture she’d let him pull her into. Hook has the gall to laugh heartily, which only makes her that much angrier. At him, at herself, at the world in general. Whatever. She pulls the wallet out of her jacket and smacks him on the arm with it.

He chuckles as he takes it from her hand. “I think your anger is misdirected, love. It's not my fault you're a miserable thief.”

He’s still grinning, the asshole, so she scowls at him wanting to wipe that grin off his stupid face with either her fist or her lips… Damn that had been a good kiss. Not the point.

“Not your love. And I'm an excellent thief, buddy. I'm just having some bad luck is all.”

“I do know something about bad luck. Though, I must say your act could use a little work. What's with the giggling and hair-tossing? Anyone who's even barely paying attention could see you're no bimbo.”

Emma sucks on her teeth as she debates her answer, but there's really no point to bullshitting now. “People tend to see what they expect to see. A pretty girl in a low-cut top? They expect dumb blonde. They never see me coming.”

“More’s the pity for them. I imagine seeing you come would be a life-altering experience.”

The fact that her breath doesn't hitch at the innuendo is a testament to her years of practicing her poker face. “You imagine, do you?”

His eyes focus on her mouth and that damn tongue of his swipes into the corner of his own as he considers his response.

“Vividly.”

The word is over articulated and practically obscene and Emma has to steer this conversation away from herself before she does something unhelpful like shove him against the wall again. She narrows her eyes.

“Hmm. And what about your act, huh? That accent’s a bit much.  All the ‘ayes’ and ‘mates’. You're one ‘shiver me timbers’ away from sounding like a pirate. Besides, most men enjoy my bubbly demeanor.”

There’s a flicker of humor in his eyes and a wry grin. “Well, that's not in dispute. And-” He pauses as if he’s just realized what she said, an indignant furrow forming between his brows. “The accent is real, I’ll have you know. But were I a betting man, and we both know I am, I'd wager there is no Anna Nolan, is there? Just who are you, love?”

Emma smirks at him. “Wouldn't you like to know.”

“You know,” he begins, stroking the stubble on his jaw for effect. “I believe I can guess. Gorgeous blonde, brilliant card player, violent tendencies… you must be Emma Swan.”

Emma blinks in shock, and her voice when she regains the ability to use it is embarrassingly squeaky. “You've heard of me?”

“Aye- I mean, yes, I have. You're making something of a name for yourself as a player, which I assume is why you've stopped using your real one.”

She hadn’t planned on letting him know that she knew who he was, but he looks so irritatingly smug. She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest.

“You're one to talk Hook.”

“Ah, that would be my more colorful moniker. Fair point, Swan.” He grins then, little crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. “You know I quite like that name. It suits you. Swans are lovely creatures after all. Elegant, inclined to bite...”

She flashes him a quick, tight, smile and punctuates her words by poking him in the chest with her index finger. “You ain't seen nothing yet, buddy.”

“Oh, you're a tough lass, aren't you?”

Emma cants her head to the side, surprised to see that he actually looks impressed. She sighs, shoving her hands in her back pockets and raising her chin defiantly. “So what do we do now? Are you going to turn me in?”

Hook only shrugs. “I suppose as I've got my money back there's no harm done. Not to mention this has been the most fun I've had in ages. We'll call it square, yeah?”

“Okay. We're square. This-” she allows herself to relax her stance slightly. “This was pretty fun for me, too. You know, up until you busted me stealing your wallet. You're a hell of a poker player.”

“As are you, Swan.”

He smiles at her then, and it seems so genuine she can’t help but smile back. Damn, it’s not fair. He should not be allowed to be that talented and that sexy and still be… what’s the word? Likeable. He’s fucking likeable. It makes her almost feel guilty for what she’s about to do. Almost.

“You know, I wasn’t lying about Will shooting his mouth off down at the bar. We really shouldn’t be seen together.”

This time it's his turn to sigh, a hint of regret crossing his features. “Aye. Probably best.”

She moves a bit closer. “And since we’ll probably never see each other again…”

His eyes dart between hers then down to her lips. “Aye?”

“I was thinking…” She hooks a finger between the buttons on his vest and tugs him toward her, letting her gaze linger on his mouth for a moment. “Maybe just one more?”

He tries to laugh, but it comes out kind of gruff and throaty and Emma's smile spreads.

“I thought that was a one-time thing?” Even as he speaks the words, he's swaying closer until they're toe-to-toe, his hand and hook settling low on her waist.

She lets go of his vest, sliding her hands up his chest until her fingers lace behind his neck, her thumbs tracing his jaw. “Let's just say it's for luck.”

Hook tilts his head and whispers against her lips, “Who am I to argue with Lady Luck?” And then he's kissing her again, smooth and slow and deep.

Emma savors it, savors him, drinking in every drop of him she can before she has to let him go, but let him go she must. With a supreme act of will power, she finally pulls away and turns to leave without another word. As she walks off, she makes sure to keep her steps slow and measured, a bit of sway in her hips to give him a properly distracting parting view.

She knows the second he realizes she's robbed him again - the bellow of “SWAN!” that echoes down the stairwell is hard to miss. It's a particular point of pride just how long it took him to notice, and she smiles to herself picturing him there in the hallway, licking his lips to hang on to the taste of her (just as she’s doing right now).

She steps out of her heels, scooping them up quickly with one hand and runs across the parking lot, not caring a lick that the rain has picked up and she’s getting soaked to the skin. Hook bursts through the side exit just as Emma cranks her old yellow Beetle to life, his continuing shouts of her name muted by the roaring (okay, sputtering) engine.

She grins at him as she drives away into the night, a little wave of her fingers as she passes him, and damned if he doesn’t make an appealing picture standing there in the rain. His clothes cling to his body, dark hair plastered to his forehead and his chest heaving from a mixture of anger and the exertion of chasing after her. But she's surprised to see the way his face changes as she watches him in her rearview mirror. The initial rage falls away, replaced by a wide grin, his teeth flashing white under the parking lot flood lights and he seems to be laughing. He wags a scolding finger in her direction, and in her mind the phantom of his voice murmurs, “I’ll get you next time, love,” the challenge clear despite the growing distance between them.

There he goes again being all likeable. Emma rolls her eyes as she drives. At herself, at him, at all of this. She wishes she'd never met him. But she can't wait to run into him again.

[tumblunni]

I just had an inspiration for a new character in Changeling Sim! What about... another changeling!

I realized there aren’t enough characters really showing off the flaws of the fairies, when we have the CCT to show the flaws of humanity. It doesn’t necessarily have to be an even 50/50 split of evil characters or anything, but giving each side some moral greyness would be good. And I thought an idea might maybe be to not necessarily add more evil fairy characters, but to add a character who suffered from the actions of a villainous fairy character. Like, make us feel for the victims, that makes it harder to answer the moral questions. How easy is it to look at this guy’s face and tell him he’s wrong about mistrusting all fairies just because one of them hurt him, when you get to see every inch of how much it hurt him? And when you’ve got attatched to him and you worry about losing this friendship...

The idea I had was to have another character who occupies Kiddo’s unique status as a bridge between the human and fairy worlds, but to act as a dark reflection of it. Kiddo is a fairy who was made human and given to a loving mother so she can see the best of humanity. But this poor sod is just an ordinary human child who was lured in by a predatory fairy, the ye olde mythology types who’d trick you into eating fae food so you’d be bound into servitude to them forever! Even though he managed to escape being enslaved, by the time he found his way back to the other world decades had passed and he wasn’t even human enough to go back home. Now he’s just been haunting one particular tree for fifty years and has grown up into a bitter adult. The absolute portrait of fairy hate, even though he is one. He never asked to be one... Maybe he’s even like a collaborator with the CCT? Even though he knows they’d exterminate him too if they saw through his human disguise. Maybe he’s so depressed he thinks that’d be right, his only reason to keep living is to save other people from being hurt in the same way and then he’d willingly hand himself over to be executed too.

And then Kiddo could meet him and just think he’s a weird human who’s always hanging around the park, and try and help him cos he’s homeless. And he doesn’t know she’s a changeling either, so he lets himself get attatched to this odd kid and stops questioning why she can see him when noone else can. AND THEN TRAGEDY WHEN ITS ALL REVEALED And maybe a lot of multiple endings for ‘ol big bro mr tree man? Endings where the friendship is shattered by the reveal, and you never see him again. Endings where he does indeed just vanish one day after the CCT succeed in their plans, and you never find out why... But also, multiple types of happy ending! There could be an ending where he’s able to become human again, but he reincarnates as a child and doesn’t remember you. I think it’d be a hard choice to make because he’d feel like forgetting is actually a good thing. He can forget all his pain and go back to ‘being myself’, since he just sees it as if his life ended that day when he was a child.  But then there’s the option to refuse this, and go on remembering, but find a far more hard sought and bittersweet happiness later. Even if it means the friendship being tested a lot, and way more opportunities to just fall into the shattered bonds ending again. I think ultimately Kiddo’s reasoning would be that there’s no guarantee that becoming human will mean his second life is any happier than the first. Bringing up the harsh truth that a lot of humans are just as manipulative and disgusting, and being adopted by a random family is putting himself at a lot of risk of that. Parents are not guaranteed to love their child, parents can commit the worst crimes... Kiddo is really lucky that she won the good mum lottery, yknow? (And I think the reason Jackie can’t just adopt reincarnated-dude is because being around people he knew before could cause his sealed memories to fracture. Plus it’d be really painful for them to have to see him not remembering them. Plus Jackie isn’t really rich enough to adopt everyone, even if she wants to!) Sorry for the interruption there, just had to plug a plot hole XD But yeah, forgetting everything isnt necessarily a happy ending, its leaving a lot at risk just because he has this idealized view that becoming human will solve all his problems. But its not even an argument for the opposite solution! There’s just as much risk if he went to live in the fairy world, or even if he just stayed here haunting the human world as he is. Ultimately whatever he chooses is up to him, he just shouldn’t choose to forget! He has the painful memories but he also has the memories that keep him safe. His only consolation in the painful times is remembering the good moments, and he wouldnt even be able to remember he’s a badass who survived everything they threw at him! And he wouldn’t be able to hold onto the very few memories he has left of his original human family, all those years ago... Its not a perfect solution though, it does mean he still has to suffer remembering. But this way he’ll have people here to help him, people he knows he can trust. :) And then I dunno, maybe the possibilities are just different variations of getting him to come out of his shell a little and take care of himself. Like.. technically this ending is him going nowhere, staying exactly where he was at the start of the game. But he’s a learned a lot and he’s stopped living in horrid conditions and refusing all help. Maybe he gets a job working for the bakery lady? And then he can have a lil human world apartment to haunt, and walk around a lil human world neighbourhood in a lil human disguise and realise he isnt necessarily cut off from this world just because he isn’t human. And he could take adult education classes to learn how to read, and a world of possibilities are open now and you have all the time in the world to catch up on what you were missing! And the alternative route where he goes to the fairy world would possibly be a bit more ambiguous whether he’s happy or not. I feel like it’d be so traumatic that it’d be bad for his mental health even if he was convinced of the potential goodness within fairies. He’d still be reminded of what happened to him, and everyone who tried to help him would just be reminding him more. So maybe it could be like he has a part time job in fairy world and visits every now and then, gradually trying to overcome his fear? I think he could maybe be a royal butler, cos Rafferty would probably relate A LOT to this poor guy and really want to help. And it’d be cool to see this dishevelled homeless tree man getting all dressed up in a fancy tuxedo as a sign of how far he’s come! So maybe this is just like an added bonus to the regular happy ending, which you only unlock if you befriended both him and Rafferty?

[djzena]

Halloween Evening Childrens Halloween Music

Properly, spook not: We understand your Halloween soundtrack wants some authentic flair, so we dug up the pop-tradition gems that may really up your party playlist game. The Making of Our Halloween Musical ~ Part 1 - The youngsters created everything for this Halloween musical: they wrote the story, helped design costumes, designed background surroundings, AND created tickets and signs. So here's a group of kindie Halloween songs I am aware of, some of them launched this week, some of them relationship again to 2006 ). This is an replace of my 2014 listing with some subsequent songs.

You can begin by introducing one or two rhymes per week, starting with a standard one like Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star Begin by saying the nursery rhyme so your baby learns the words and the rhyme pattern, after which you can sing them and add enjoyable hand motions. Perceive that the repetitive quality of nursery rhyme phrases helps in memorizing them. These pages comprise the origins, histories, actual folks and any other fascinating tidbits about nursery rhymes. Sober's” lingering, wandering beats and Maynard James Keenan's tortured vocals make this a fantastic fit for any Halloween shindig. Lastly, the lyrics are about the hounds of hell and burning witches at the stake. However there's one thing about donning a witch's hat and making use of pretend blood that signifies that the music you are selection for October 31 had better have one thing of the night about it.

Make Halloween enjoyable and educational with Super Easy Songs - Halloween, a group of 12 playful Halloween songs with just a touch of spookiness. For the very first time, RTP abolished the language restrictions, in order that artists might submit songs in any language(s), even without Portuguese. For those who really need to scary individuals this is the premiere Halloween music of all time to have in your music library.

Lyrically the music is apparent sufficient: The narrator is falling for a gorgeous lady who's nothing however bad news and is likely to be the devil's youngster, but he can't stop being around her and feels his own coronary heart being transformed by her evil methods. Some of the popular examples of the latter is Robert Louis Stevenson's A Child's Backyard of Verses, wherein a poem akin to The Swing appears like a nursery rhyme, but not any specific one. While The Doors version is also a traditional Halloween model, I included Echo and the Bunnymen's model purely resulting from its connection to the 1987 cult traditional movie, The Misplaced Boys.

It could possibly be about either a predatory man, which would be scary, or only a weird man whom Kim Gordon is interested in, which might even be scary. Halloween isn't just a time for costumes, jack-lanterns, and trick-or-treating. Please watch the music video on this article for added songs of the season. My students are thrilled after I give them music printed on colored pages, so at Halloween time, I go for darker paper - as long as the notes could be read. In this first ESL social gathering vocabulary train it's good to select which option (A-D) has the proper definition of the phrase that's given in the query. Songs for Scouts and Scouters - The MacScouter's Songs for Scouts and Scouters collection contains some good previous campfire songs, foolish songs, and chants and songs for leaders. Ray Parker Jr.'s theme to the 1984 film Ghostbusters was a success and even earned an Original Music nomination on the Academy Awards (it misplaced to Stevie Marvel's I Just Called To Say I Love You”). The signs of contracting the plague included a crimson rash within the form on a ring on the pores and skin, as well as sneezing (which explains ninety five% of the lyrics of the rhyme). When you have any requests for classroom worksheets, depart me a message and I will be joyful to work on them. Maya Kalman, of Swank Productions , says that Halloween is one in all her firm's favourite holidays they usually've thrown a number of themed parties. On the checklist are songs like Heads Will Roll” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Creep” by Radiohead, Ghost City” by Adam Lambert, Candy Goals” by Marilyn Manson, and Superstition” by Stevie Marvel (vital). The British youth, disillusioned and dispossessed, noticed the tune as the anthem of their anger and uprising.

The dance from Thriller” has cropped up in all places for the reason that video's premier, in other films, in flash mobs world wide, and in any respect kinds of dance events, not solely on Halloween. We Love Nursery Rhymes and Songs - Choose one among these funny nursery rhymes and songs, including the Itsy Bitsy Spider, Baa Baa Black Sheep, and Mary Had a Little Lamb. I especially enjoy the lyric, You go to work right this moment, you may go to work tomorrow, stfaced tonight, you may brag about it for months.” If your Halloween occasion is any good, this may probably occur! There were monsters in rock songs earlier than Alice Cooper surfaced in the early ‘70s with songs like The Ballad of Dwight Fry,” Dead Infants,” and Killer,” However there weren't monsters in rock. Learn the pre-school nursery rhymes for children and very good visualize 3D animated multiple cartoon animals dinosaur finger family rhyme for kids by my superhero rhymes. Well-liked Nursery Rhymes - Read and have a look at the images of these wacky rhymes and songs. Under, we present the preferred Halloween songs online, ranked by how much of a boost they get each Halloween. This has to be one of many downright creepiest songs from any Disney animated movie (written by the same man who scored Toy Story, by the best way). Experience the best Halloween occasion of the season, with the most effective DJs in town - DJ Ricky, DJ Aditya and DJ Jatin. The beat contains a spooky giggle and then a scream and it appears like John Carpenter's Halloween theme, which may be very scary. Ministry is an American band that was initially new-wave/synth pop but later found themselves falling into the commercial metal category. Whereas the rest of the world folds wearily into November, your Halloween social gathering on the finish of the road is still going sturdy nicely into the wee hours. The new era songs hold it much less violent as it would serve a larger viewers.

Straightforward piano songs for novices with creepy lyrics... How Doth the Little Crocodile, by Lewis Carroll! There's controversy regarding actual dates when they were created and the message behind some of these rhymes. I need to tell you that as like me, many people wish to celebrate our Halloween day on this 12 months with numerous enjoyment and get together with our friends and family. Unscholarly Sidenote: Here is a hyperlink to some recommendations for Halloween costumes , which I am including as a result of they're very humorous and really relatively intelligent.