#fill the moat with sharks

[yvessaintlowrent]

Requiem arc tarot cards, based on the Rider Waite deck. Maybe I can finish all of the major arcana before the heat death of the universe?

[hardlysticks]

The Sea Breeze Carries Unknown Secrets

Poly!141 x reader. Special edition for mermay!

Recently your grandfather had passed away, leaving you his one story seaside cabin in a small town you had visited growing up. Your grandfather took over the house once your grandmother had passed, leaving it just to him and whoever decided to visit. You were the one to visit the most, spending summers on end in that small cabin playing in the sand that covered the front yard.

You can still vividly remember the feeling of the sand getting stuck under your nails as you dug a moat around the small sand castle you built. Though it looked more of a heap of sand then a castle, since you could only use dry sand.

Whenever you tried to wander closer to the sea line your grandfather would always pull you away and tell you how dangerous the sea was. Mumbling to himself about creatures that would snatch up any thing they found interesting.

Your grandfather was seen as a crazy by everyone in you family, with his stories about his time at sea and the things he had encountered. Everyone in your family ignored him but you always sat and listened with intrigue. Stories of mermaids and sirens that haunted the rocks and the coastlines of the seaside town.

The small coastal town embraced your grandfather’s stories with their own, twisting in their own thoughts on the creatures that haunted the sea. When the summers came where you sat in town listening to all the stories that were woven.

The town looked just the same as it did when you were younger, as you slowly drove into the streets remembering the summers you spent here with your grandfather… and now they were the streets you would be living in. It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the sandy driveway of the house you inherited.

“Just how I remembered it” you smiled to yourself as you started to unpack your bags from your car. There wasn’t much to move from your small apartment in the city, so it only took close to twenty minutes to bring everything in.

You had finished unpacking later in the evening, leaving you quite exhausted. With a heavy sigh you sat yourself back on the couch, exhausting eating away at your muscles. Eventually you gave in to the tiredness and fell asleep, the comfort of the couch and the sea breeze blowing from the window lulled you to sleep.

The sound of the breeze whistling through your window and a soft chime swinging from your porch filled your dreams, leaving you feeling comforted in the new environment. Though it was soon to break with the sounds of splashing water, louder then the ones you hear before a storm brews.

With a jolt you sat up from the couch, leaving you with crumpled clothes and an ache in your neck. Your mind told you to brush off the sounds and go back to sleep, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat.

Carefully you reached out and grabbed your phone from the coffee table, using the screen to illuminate your way to the front door and outside to the beachside that you considered your front yard. It takes a second before your eyes finally adjust to the dark of night.

When your eyes do adjust you notice a dorsal fin cutting through the water, leaving a small wake of ripples behind it. Sharks never came this close to shore, so it was a surprise to see this. The fin quickly dipped back into the water, leaving you with more curiosity than before.

As you step out of the house to get a better look, the water quickly splashes, large enough to send rippling waves to the shore. Along with the splash you think you hear a gruff laugh calling out from the ocean, surely your just imagining it. You’ve barely even slept!

The splashes continued, your eyes drifting to watch the water rippling. Gaining some courage you step off of your porch and get a little closer to the shoreline, when a large splash sends freezing ocean water to soak through your clothes.

“Shit! That’s cold-“ you cursed to yourself as you backed up slightly. With your voice breaking the silence of the night, the crashing of water immediately stops and it goes eerily quiet. The silence qualms your curiosity, it must have been some fish.

Right as you go to turn away you notice two heads popping up out of the water, it takes you a second to reel in the fact that it’s two human heads. A pair of crystalline blue that could rival the sea, and a pair of chocolate brown eyes that made you want to melt under.

Surely this was a delusion of exhaustion right?

“Well look a’ the Bonnie lass we ‘ave ‘ere” the one with crystalline blue eyes spoke, a Scottish lilt to the voice.

Your eyes widened at the scene unfolding right before you, two men in the ocean..? At this ungodly hour? Questions riddled your mind as your tried to find an answer to this mystery, though your brain kept trying to tell you that you were sleep deprived!

“Great you scared her mate” the one with chocolate eyes scoffed to the other, raising a hand to slap the back of the others head.

Finally you got yourself out of your head and tried to take notice of their features. The one with crystalline blue eyes seemed to be sporting an overgrown Mohawk, with some stubble that coated his chin and cheeks, and lastly seemed to be a scar that ran along his chin.

The one with chocolate brown eyes had shorter cut hair that looked like tight curls, along with a bit of stubble along his top lip.

You stayed quiet as you observed the men, though your eyes strained slightly when you looked at one of them. Instead of ears that looked similar to her own, she saw webbed fins that took place instead.

These weren’t men.. these were the creatures your grandfather had warned you about…

Note!- I’m so nervous to post this!!! I hope everyone enjoys this; considering it’s only the prologue not much has happened yet but more will !!

[chaoticace2005]

Random short of Alastor’s shadow being done with his shit and becoming friends with our favorite losers. ( @xxqueenofdragonsxx @downthegenderriver )

Shadowstor was tired.

So tired.

Contrary to popular belief shadows COULD get tired. And Shadowstor was aware of that early on.

Okay… to be fair most shadows probably can’t get tired. Because most shadows can’t feel.

But Shadowstor was an exception. Because the very reason for it’s exhaustion is the same reason it can think to begin with.

Alastor.

Not the Radio Demon. Because Alastor himself isn’t the Radio Demon, no. Shadowstor helped with that. Helped more than it gets credit for (which is virtually none because of how Alastor likes to posture himself.)

And that’s fine, really. Shadowstor is a shadow for fucks sake. It isn’t made for being directly in the spotlight. Alastor is and Shadowstor fades into the background, being obscured with the focus on it’s counterpart.

The thing that does get Shadowstor exhausted though is the fact that Alastor has the tendency of being an impulsive idiot.

Now, don’t get Shadowstor wrong, Alastor is definitely a large part of why the Radio Demon has a reputation as an unhinged, powerful, scary individual. Shadowstor helped with the powers though, but really it thinks its greatest contribution was the fact that this means the Radio Demon now has some semblance of impulse control.

Alastor may not listen to anyone. But it’s usually kind of hard not to hear out a literal manifestation and source of your powers.

Usually. Because Alastor will still start a fight with pretty much anyone. He’ll go on the air and mock Vox for his crush. He’ll say ducks are an overrated animal right in front of Lucifer. He’ll 1v1 the literally first man. He’ll call Susan’s blouse tacky.

And all Shadowstor can usually do is sit back and watch. Because it’s bound to help Alastor. Bound to be part of the Radio Demon. But that doesn’t stop it from being exhausted every single time Al does start something.

One thing though about being tied to Alastor is you get to know others who are tied to Alastor. Others who are equally exhausted by Alastor.

Husk.

The Bar Cat was one being Shadowstor could relate to on a deep level. Because Shadowstor has to put up with the ineptness of Alastor. But Husk has to put up with the ineptness of Alastor and everyone else.

It’s because of this when Alastor is sleeping (which, despite Angel Dust’s verbal doubts on the matter does happen, Alastor isn’t an all powerful being, despite how much he pretends to be,) Shadowstor sometimes will go out, going downstairs to the bar that is usually only occupied by the Cat-Demon waiting from his not-boyfriend to come home.

(Sexual and romantic feelings are so weird. Relationships are so weird and Shadowstor is glad it doesn’t have to deal with that.)

After a particularly tiring day of Alastor trying to break into the Vees tower and destroy Vox’s body pillow of him, Shadowstor was exhausted. It had pretty much given up on trying where Vox was involved, because Alastor seemed to get particular joy out of taunting the TV, but it still felt like it had to try. At this point it was a matter of principle. It had fought with Alastor on this for years and it was not stopping to just let him win.

“Oh, my dear, you worry too much.” He said to Shadowstor before merging with it into the shadows and traveling across the city.

Fifteen minutes later Shadowstor had to rush them out if there because Vox had installed a shark filled moat around his office. Which Shadowstor had seen but Alastor walked right into. Because apparently “radio demon” powers extend to wresting sharks in the water (it does NOT.)

So now Alastor was asleep after pretending he had totally-not-been chewed up by some demon-sharks. And Shadowstor went downstairs to the bar.

“You too, huh?” Husk said to it, seeming to notice right when the shadow crossed with threshold. Working with the Radio Demon for years would get a person skilled at picking up changes in shadows quickly.

Shadowstor just nodded and slumped against the wall, putting its hands to its head.

The winged cat nodded in agreement, “I’ll drink to that.” He said as he took a half-full whiskey bottle and chugged it.

Shadowstor wished it could drink.

“What was it this time? Lucifer’s ducks again?”

The shadow shook its head and flat, vertically-aligned hand on top of it, making the sign for “shark.”

“Oh. Vox. Do I even want to know?”

Shadowstor shook its head again because no, Husk really didn’t. It doesn’t even want to start to think about the Alastor-Body-Pillow. Or the Alastor shrine. Or the Alastor fanfiction it found (which Vox should be lucky that Alastor didn’t find that because otherwise there’d be another broken TV screen in this hotel.)

Right then a beaten up pink spider burst through the hotel doors, going right to a stool in the bar and crashing onto it.

“Tough night?” Husk asked, already handing his not-boyfriend a drink that had been prepared even before Shadowstor arrived.

“You know it. Fuckin’ Val.”

Husk made a sound to show he was listening.

“Apparently Vox was pissed today. So that meant Val was pissed today.”

Oh… oops?

Okay, to be fair, if Vox is pissed at Alastor that isn’t really Shadowstor’s fault. It tried to stop him.

The shadow made a face palm again at its counterpart’s need to harass every single person he came into contact with.

“Wha- Smiles?”

Alastor’s here?! Wait… no he isn’t. Cause Shadowstor is here. And Shadowstor would know if Al woke up.

Oh… the spider demon is staring right at it.

Shadowstor shook its head, a bit annoyed at the idea of being confused with that impulsive buffoon.

“Huh? Husk, what—“

“That’s Alastor’s shadow.”

Shadowstor waved.

“Alastor’s what?”

“Shadow? You know? The thing that goes around with him. Helps with his powers. I’m sure he’s manifested it in front of you before.”

“Oh… yeah. So it’s just… here? Where’s Al?”

Shadowstor made the sign for sleeping.

“Sleeping.” Husk translated.

“What? How?!”

“His shadow can leave when Alastor isn’t conscious or controlling it.”

“No. I mean how did you get that from that?!” Angel says as he motions back over to Shadowstor which… rude.

“I know sign language.”

“You know WHAT?!”

“Sign language.”

“Jesus Whiskers, how many languages do you know?”

“Well there’s Russian, Spanish—“

“Wait. No. Back to the point. Alastor’s shadow just comes down here sometimes and talk to you?”

“…yeah?”

“About what?”

Shadowstor just makes one sign with as much as exhaustion as it can.

“Alastor.”

“Al— wait,” Angel laughs, “even Smiles’ shadow has a problem with him?!”

Shadowstor starts signing to explain the exact issue it faces with Alastor, Husk working to translate while Angel just nods in response.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe a fucking shadow has some oftha same shitty boss troubles as me.”

Shadowstor gives a shake and growl at that. Because Alastor isn’t it’s boss. It can see Husk about to translate before Angel cuts in.

“Oh… not your boss.”

Shadowstor nods.

“…so you’re like… you’re own person?”

Shadowstor shrugs because who knows. It wasn’t sentient before Alastor but it sure as hell is now.

“… you got a name?”

And Shadowstor pauses because no. It’s just Alastor’s shadow. For as long as it’s been around it’s never had a name. Alastor never deemed that necessary.

“Husk? Does it?” Angel asks when Shadowstor won’t answer which- hey it’s still right here. It can talk for itself. Or respond anyways.

“I don’t… think so?”

Angel turns back to Shadowstor.

“Do ya want one? Like… if you’re separate from Alastor shouldn’t you have a name that isn’t just ‘his shadow.’”

The shadow thinks for a second before slowly nodding, intrigued by this novel idea.

“What about… Tom?”

Tom?

“Tom?” Husk asks.

“Fuck. Fine, what about… Dusk? Cause y’a know shadows and darkness and stuff…”

Dusk… Dusk… it likes that.

Dusk nods and it can see the spider demon smile.

“Sweet. Nice ta meetya Duskie- oh wait. Duskie… Husky! Aw ya rhyme!”

Dusk can see Husk roll his eyes, and that just makes it even more comfortable in its decision.

—Later—

“So, you’re only able to really move around at night? When Al is asleep?”

Dusk nods.

“…Husk, what do you think Lucifer and Vox would say about moving our ‘Fuck Alastor’ meetings to nighttime?”

Oh. Oh Dusk likes this one.

[cliowo]

How to keep your heart safe:

Build walls, the tallest and strongest you can imagine. Fortify it with a moat of ravenous sharks, then go round its perimeter once, twice, thrice with rose bushes. The thorns are for the intruders, and the roses for you, because Aphrodite and heartbroken are not synonyms. Persuade colourful deadly snakes to move in, if you can. Fill the halls with the most unwelcoming items you can think of: booby traps, falling chandeliers, haunted bathrooms.

Watch as a single well-timed bomb tears down your fortress into shreds.

That is to say, you will fail.

That is to say, you can't.

[chlorogoth]

unmute. This creature is amazing, and deserves a proper lair with maybe a giant death ray and moat filled with robotic sharks.

[candy-floss-crazy]

This is a tale of disaster and destruction caused by a close friend of mind who is a dead ringer for the grim reaper. Let me introduce Fred. Fred is is the sort of guy that if you had a problem would be the first there to help you. If he had a £1 and you needed it more than him he would let you have it. He does however have a couple of issues. First is his propensity to eat. By eat, I don't mean take enough calories in to survive. I mean eat like a garbage disposal machine on steroids. He once went with a family group to an Indian restaurant. The waiter came to Fred first, took his order then started to leave. When another guest asked the waiter where he was going he replied "To the kitchen with your order." No mate, that is Fred's order, the rest of the table want food as well. Claim To Fame For a time he had a minor claim to fame at Harry Ramsdens Fish and Chip shop in Hong Kong. It seems they had a challenge, eat their special fish and chip dish and you got it for free. So Fred being Fred was up for the challenge. When it arrived they reported that it was the size of a small shark. It was huge, with a pile of chips you could have used for mountaineering exercise, and enough mushy peas to fill the moat at the Tower of London. The waiter explained the rules, you had a set amount of time to eat it, you couldn't share it etc. When he asked Fred if there was anything else he needed to know Fred told him, "Yes, can I have some slices of bread and butter please as I am quite hungry." Suffice it to say Fred demolished the dish and ended up with his picture on the wall. A Modern Day Frank Spencer Fred's other trait, is that he is a combination of the grim reaper and Frank Spencer. Now if you are too young to remember Frank, check this video out. Basically he was what could charitably be described as an idiot. He meant well, and tried his best, but whatever he did would set off a chain reaction that ended up in chaos and mayhem. When the Challenger space shuttle exploded, Fred was in America. He was somewhere in the region when the tsunami hit a few years back. And I have no doubt that once scientists get to the bottom of Covid 19, Fred will be a link in the chain, probably with something he ate. I was once with him at a Masonic social event, when 2 buttons popped off of his shirt, flew across the table and hit a guy in the eye. He promptly turned and punched a neighbour because he though he had attacked him. That's the sort of thing Fred can create without even trying. Fred and His Rides Anyway, Fred owns a couple of children's funfair rides, and occasionally we contract him in for jobs. A couple of days after one such contract Fred rang to tell me he had encountered a problem on the job. Now, my standing instructions are that problems are to be reported to me as soon as they happen so that I can contact the client and try and sort it out, rather than them ringing me days later upset. So I immediately went into a rant, questioning the marital status of Fred's parents when he was born, and introducing him to some other Anglo Saxon phrases. In between a pause for breath, Fred interjected that it hadn't actually happened on the job. Good, that calmed me down a bit. What he said happened was, well I will let Fred tell you in his own words! The Pheasant When I set off home in my transit van, towing the ride, the motorway was closed due to an accident, so my sat nav diverted me cross country. I was sat at a nice 60 mph, on a single carriageway road, when I hit a pheasant. The said pheasant, was catapulted at high velocity, across the road, whereupon it happened to smack the lead rider, in a pair of cyclists, smack bang in the side of the head. He promptly disappeared over the edge of the road, and down a 20 ft embankment. Now, I felt partially responsible for this state of affairs, so I pulled up to help him. Coming the other way, was a lovely elderly couple in a beautiful vintage car, that I later learnt from them, they had been 15 years restoring it to its current state. They also saw what had happened, and pulled up on the other side of the road. I climbed down the bank with the other cyclist, his mate was a bit battered and shaky, his bike wheels were bent into weird shapes, so we helped him back up the bank, and then retrieved his bike. The Incredible Hulk The cyclist sat for a few minutes pulling himself together, then asked what had happened. I pointed at the pheasant, feebly twitching at the edge of the road and explained. The rider, stood up, then ran at the pheasant and booted across the road. Straight into the path of a four door pick up truck. The driver instinctively swerved, and ran straight into the elderly couples vintage car. Turning it into a pile of parts scattered over a wide area. As the pickup came to a stop, the door opened, and what can only be described as a white version of the incredible hulk unfurled himself from the interior. As he walked towards us all, he growled "I have just driven that out of the showroom, its my first ever brand new motor, I am on the way to show me mam, Where did that fu***ng bird come from?" Exit Left Deciding that I so wanted to continue living, I pointed at the cyclist, and said he kicked it. Mr Hulk, promptly hit him with a crashing right hand. That sent him over the edge and back down the embankment. He then proceeded to jump on the other cyclists bike in an attempt to create some modern art. At this point I finally understood the phrase discretion is the better part of valour. Not wanting my initial part in the disaster to be brought up. I decided to test the acceleration of a transit van towing a ride to exit the area. Looking back as I set off, the second cyclist was clinging to the hulks neck, in a vain attempt to save his bike. The little old couple were sat crying by the roadside over their demolished car. I don't know why things like this keep happening to me! Read the full article

[erasedcitizen2]

the thought of casual sex with a stranger freaks me out. so bad. not in like a slut shaming way or in any kind of moral way. and not because i think sex absolutely needs to involve emotions or romance or anything like that but like........ man i’m not even comfortable hugging classmates i’ve known 3 years unless they’ve taken the time to get to know me one-on-one first. my brain Cannot comprehend letting a stranger touch me and feeling good about it instead of icky???

[sundove88]

A Quick Cookie Run Headcanon:

Considering that The Cookie Kingdom is a place for all cookies to belong, I headcanon that a good chunk of desserts from across Earthbread have a vacation home there! Here are some examples:

Pure Vanilla, Black Raisin, Lilybell, Blue Lily, and White Lily- A mansion colored in both creamy white and Vanillian blue, with stained glass windows and beds of Lily flowers + vanilla orchids. It includes a backyard tree house for Black Raisin and her crows (Plus a guest house for her villagers), and a swing set for Lilybell and Blue Lily.

Strawberry Crepe- A nice home with an outdoor workshop and a hangar for his personal wafflebots. It even has a break area room.

Hollyberry, Elderberry (My OC), WildBerry, Royalberry, Jungleberry, Knight, Princess, and Tiger Lily- A Hollyberrian style mansion with a driveway and fence, plus a fountain in the courtyard and a few balconies here and there.

Raspberry and Raspberry Mousse- A gorgeous raspberry pink mansion with elegant gardens and a driveway. It also has an outdoor training area for the both of them! For those who are curious, Blueberry’s vacation house is blue with the same features, but it also has an afternoon tea area. Bumbleberry’s has the same features but purple, and there’s an outdoor modeling area. And Cranberry’s is the same as the last 3 but red, and with a statue garden.

Dark Cacao, ChocoPearl (My OC), Dark Choco, and Crunchy Chip - A Dark Cacaoan Mansion with elegant Choco Cherry Trees at the sides, alongside stables and maximum security. Also a spot for Cream Wolves.

Caramel Arrow + Watchers- A fortress that has watchtowers that can see throughout the kingdom and everywhere in between. Plus, it even has a free boba dispenser for anyone who’s thirsty.

Golden Cheese, Burnt Cheese, Mozzarella, Smoked Cheese, and Parmesan (My OC)- A Golden Cheesian style mansion with golden statues and even a personal garden with elegant desert plants and Cheesebird tree houses. Even has a landing pad for them!

Pitaya Dragon and Snapdragon- would be a treasure filled mansion inspired by their cave. Lava moat, a jacuzzi, and even a play area for Snapdragon.

Ananas Dragon- would be like their pineapple palace. Palm trees, a personal oasis, and even beach chairs are present.

Lotus Dragon and Hydrangea- would be on a body of water and be like the Lotus Palace. Has a huge koi pond and lotus flowers numbering in the hundreds.

Lychee Dragon- another mansion, but like the cave they’re from. Many plushies of monsters are everywhere.

Longan Dragon and Snakefruit- Would be like the Longan Palace, and has a staircase + lift for guests to enter.

Clotted Cream and Light Cream- A floating mansion that has several entrances to it, along with waterfalls that cascade down into the waterways. Elder Custard’s room is in the basement.

Oyster- A giant beachside mansion in the shape of a seashell. The house is located inside of the clamshell and has tons of pearls and such on it.

Captain Caviar- A beachside mansion with maximum security and a moat filled with sharks that leads to the ocean. Said sharks are harmless and swim in from the sea.

Baumkuchen- A clinic with the Creme Republic’s architecture and such. Idea by @plumcrane93

Comment or Reblog what you think some other Cookies and Desserts’ vacation houses would look like!

[bioodorange]

||The Pastas At The Beach||

this was originally like an entirely different post but ehhh this ways better!

disclaimer Im setting this like, at a beach with a boardwalk and such next too it? Public beach, small time vacationing!

and that they conviently like..pass as human

I hope you guys enjoy!! remember too check out my announcement board!

taglist: @frozensriracha @creepy-bi-day @capricornartistsstuff @krayolacolor

Jeff the Killer

Jeff doesn't really do much at the beach

The salt water irritates his skin and he burns easily, doesn't want too deal with it

Spends most of his time asleep

Hogs all the damn towels by sprawling out all over all of them

Gets sand over everything that they brought with them

Forgets how wind works and it gets everywhere

When its time for some of em too go get food, he always fucking goes

Wants too walk around and do something, and maybe not get blamed for all the fucking sand when everyone sits back down

He wears one of those like protective long sleeved shirts? and red swim trunks that are just somewhat obnoxiously bright

While getting the food he has a brilliant idea

Befriends the fucking seagulls

Lures them back too their umbrellas and just vibes with his bird army

atleast he's not alone anymore?

Ben Drowned

first off I know like he doesn't go swimming

but imagine if he did

his fucking goggles get filled up with blood

gets weird ass tan lines from the blood on his face like, when he's not swimming

has too wear the goggles when he puts on sunscreen-

ok ok thats it

fucker wears like mountain dew swim trunks

and those arm floatie things despite not going anywhere near the water

He tries too sit around Jeff but that gets boring fast-

Just walks the fuck off without telling anyone, on a journey for adventure

Will spend literal hours sitting underneath the boardwalk until someone finds him

After that they get him like one of thise beach toy kit things

Sally's nice enough too fill the bucket with water too, so they can make sand castles and stuff

She walks along the shore line with him, gets pretty shells too

Also if Ben were too go in the water

He's a fucking shark magnet with all that blood-

But don't tell him that, he won't come back too the beach

Ticci Toby

Toby is very excited too go to the beach

He didn't get out much as a kid

Siked as hell too get in the water

Drops his stuff off as soon as possible and runs right into the water

And thats when he realizes he can't fucking swim

Awkwardly flaps his arms around until a wave moves him along too back where he can stand

Everyones kinda confused when he comes back like "?? You were so excited, what happened?"

"I can't swim :(("

Cody volunteers to teach him right away, like the great brother he is

The thing is Cody is a horrible fucking teacher

Another few minutes of Toby getting owned by some waves and Cody just screaming stuff like

"Use your arms Toby- no not like that how I showed you- no I'm not going too help how are you supposed to learn-"

That's when Kate drags him back too shore and Doby and Brian teach him instead

In a bit he learns and ends up having a lot of fun

I feel like Toby would really like boogie boarding?

A lot easier then surfing but still a good time

Also they have too tie a red scarf around his arm so they don't loose his ass in a crowd, or in the water

Third Base

so far, Doby's the only one on this list who actually came prepared

I feel like he'd use one of those face lotions that has SPF 30 in it already?

Smart enough so he doesn't have too smear sun screen around his face, can just use the spray stuff and get going

Also has shoes and sunglasses too go with each like swimsuit/outfit he brings

Mans is put together

Really likes collecting shells and stuff

Walks with Sally, shows her how too find them

Wakes up kinda early as it is? So its easy for him too go too the beach early and find the shells before the tide pulls them back out

It's one of his favorite times, actually

The suns just rising, a few shops are opening, only a handful of people are on the beach

Does it everyday as his "alone time" before everyone else wakes up

Spends most of his time with everyone kinda relaxing?

I can see him really liking those beach volleyball games

Or just playing frizbee in the shallow water!

Really, really enjoys making sand castles

Builds a moat and everything so it stays up when the waves start coming closer

X-Virus

Cody, another kid who never got much beach expierence

But acts like he did

Buys one of those waterproof, phone lanyard things

Forgets too fucking close it properly

Doesn't have the first idea of what seagulls are like

"Oh come on buys its fine-" gets fucking owned for his cheesestick

Lowkey scared of them after that

Refuses too eat on the beach after that

Sits with ben under the board walk and curls around his chips

Spends most of his time in the water

Wants too see how far he can go before the lifegaurd calls him back

Finds it funny as shit too just slowly go deeper while grinning at them

Until a wave slaps him in the back of the head

And then he gets scared of the deepwater too

After he looses Swimming Coach privellages gets really fucking salty and sulks on the beach

Kate takes pity on him and walks around the boardwalk with him

But he also didn't know you have too reapply sunscreen after you go swimming

Gets really really bad sunburn

Jeff, Ben and Toby take turns slapping it whenever he gets too cocky

Masky

This is gonna be a Dad Tim one, fight me

Really has no idea what the fuck is going on, but still manages too keep everyone together?

Tells the same story, atleast twice a day, about the killer wave that almost took his shorts off

Gets in fights with seagulls whenever they get realitively close too the group

Also buys one of those crappy beach wagon things too put their stuff in

Buys a mug and cheesy beer koozie

Doesn't enjoy the beach that much but gets excited too go?

Ends up sitting down for most of the time unless he gets dragged on walks

Might just kinda walk until the water is at his knees and just kinda stand there, and nod a little

Giving mother nature his approval

He takes Sally out and holds onto her stomach, lifts her up over the waves whenever they come

Asks her what she can see, before he drops her back down

Tries it with Ben, gets kicked in the gut-

Favorite time is when it's dark and they go

Not for a long time, just a few minutes too walk along the shore before it gets dark

Hoodie

Designated photographer

Is supposed too be taking photos but mostly gets footage of the stupid shit that happens

Like Jeff not being able too figure out the dishwasher or Clockwork wrestling with her dresser where only half the drawers worked

Just kinda sits back and watches things go up in flames

He's the designated like playlist guy too? On the drive over, whenever he got bored just

"Hey what song should I play?"

And watches chaos ensue

His vacation is watching everyone else have a bad time

Makes up for it though, saves them a shit ton of money by making dinner every night.

I feel like he genuinely enjoys late nights on the beach, like Tim

Gets some beautiful photos of the water, and people taking walks that he's pretty damn proud of

Maybe once or twice he'll join Doby for a walk too get pictures of the rising sun

Likes getting small things from the gift shops

Shark teeth, maybe a cheesy snowglobe

Something silly but nice too remember the trip by

Eyeless Jack

first things first, ya know those double-lens glasses? Like you flip up the sunglass part and theres normal lenses underneath? Someone gave him those

But their are crappy eyes painted on the normal lenses

He's very confused but its just ridiculous enough for him too like

The beach isn't his favorite place, I HC him as nocturnal and most things are open during the day

He takes too the rides and crappy carnival games that are open late at night

He can't see everything super well but makes up fun things for himself

Enjoys going on rollercoasters that he has no idea what the hell the drops look like

Fucking hates bumper cars

Can't tell where everyone's coming from or when

More nerve racking then fun

Whenever they go to the beach beach he just kind of chills

Akwardly curls up on a towel because he's big as shit

Where ever they stay he walks around, uses his echo location shit too find out all its quirks

"This walls more hallow then that one- those support beams in the lobby are doing a very shitty job of keep things together"

Loves sitting out on the balcony and just smelling the salt air, listening too people laughing and the ocean waves

Just the small details a lot of people miss

[murderfly]

I HAVE SHARKS BECAUSE OF THIS WHOLE THING I WAS GOING TO DO WHERE I WAS PLANNING ON DIGGING A MOAT AROUND VENTURE INDUSTRIES AND THEN FILLING IT WITH SHARKS SO THAT DR. VENTURE COULDN'T GET HIS MAIL DELIVERED, AND THUS COULDN'T PAY HIS BILLS.

MY END GOAL HERE WAS HIS POWER GETTING SHUT OFF, GIVING ME A SHORT WINDOW OF TIME WHERE HIS SECURITY TEAM IS COMPROMISED AND IN TURN, UNABLE STOP MY ATTEMPTS AT HACKING HIS SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS, CHANGING HIS PASSWORDS, AND POSTING THAT ONE EMBARASSING PHOTO OF HIM SNEEZING AT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY ALL OVER EVERY PAGE ON EVERY PATHETIC DATING APP HE HAS, ENSURING THAT HE WILL

NEVER SCORE ANY ASS.

[ohmightydevviepuu]

writers month prompts

twenty-four:  fake relationship

a/n:  ok, so now you know.  you’ve been reading one story this entire time.  go back and catch up and tell me how i did; i knew i was building to this all along but let the flavor and approach come to me at the last second.  thanks to @optomisticgirl as an expert of all things timey-wimey.  to @katie-dub, indefatiguable sounding board.  to @thisonesatellite for 30 ideas i didn’t use, and one that i stole.  to @profdanglaisstuff for letting me be weird even when i should be better (and for bake-off).  

six more to go.  hang in there, kids.

--

Flicker.

Flickerflickerflickerflick—

Emma blinked at the sunlight streaming in through open curtains and contemplated the figure in the bed beside her.  The clock on the nightstand flashed eight-sixteen and she said, “You have to go.”

His answer was unintelligible and likely unfit for polite company, which was exactly the kind she was expecting.  For brunch.

Imminently.

“Seriously, Killian.  You have to go.”  Emma kicked his leg until he sat up, deliciously disheveled, the bed sheet dipping dangerously low down his abdomen.  “Mary Margaret is going to be home soon and we have—”

“Brunch, aye.”  He said the word like it was a joke, and probably it was.  Emma Swan hosting brunch had to be a joke.

She kicked him again but he caught her foot, twisting the sheet even more as he did it, rubbing the arch.

“It’s not for me,” she said, not for the first time.  “It’s for Mary Margaret’s step-thingie.”

“Monster,” Killian muttered, which made Emma smile.

“She’s getting married,” Emma continued, “and we’re hosting the pre-shindig brunch, okay?  Family tradition or some bullshit.”

“Curse, more like.”  Killian grimaced, and let go of her foot as he made to move out from under the sheets.  “Can I have a cup of tea first?”

“No.  Mary Margaret will be home any second, which means you have an elsewhere to be.”

“Or—“ he paused in pulling on his trousers “—you could tell her.  The way you might tell your best friend about a relationship.”

But Emma had already made her way to the door and this wasn’t exactly a doorway conversation even if she was ready to have it.   Which she wasn’t.  So all she said was:  

“No.  I can’t.  It’s not.”

But she couldn’t stop thinking about it—could really think of nothing else.  Which was why she said, absently, during all of the talk of guest lists and table assignments and the not-shocking-at-all revelation that Regina had extra spots to fill and needed butts in chairs and the frankly inevitable mutterings about why Emma couldn’t just show up with a date and thus get two butts in chairs instead of being left to languish at some kind of hell otherwise known as a ‘singles table’—“Oh,” she said, not thinking, or maybe thinking too much.  “It’s fine.  I have a boyfriend.”

—

“So why don’t you just bring Killian?”  Elsa’s question was so simple that it was complicated for Emma to answer.

Especially because she didn’t have an answer.  Just that gnawing sense of self-doubt that lived in the pit of her stomach, always.

“They know it’s not Killian,” Emma said, “because I gave fake boyfriend a name.”

Elsa quickly bit off her laugh.  “What’s his story?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Emma said.  “Walsh Green.  Meet cute at his shop downtown when I was buying some things for the apartment.  Nice guy, you know?”

“Sounds safe,” Elsa said.  “Boring, even.”

The opposite of Killian.  On both counts.

“Thus the basis of his appeal,” Emma snapped, ignoring the way her skin seemed to crawl even just saying his name; ignoring the flash she got in her fingertips as she gripped her mug and stared out the window.

“Who cares?” Anna interrupted.  “Bring Killian.  They’ll be so distracted by his accent they won’t care that you lied.  Besides, you guys should totally be banging like bunnies—all of that tension, you know?  What are you waiting for?”

Elsa almost choked on her coffee.

Emma had nothing to say to that.

—

“Hey, I need to talk to you—”

“About the wedding?”  He cut her off.  “I said yes.”

“Really?  Did Elsa—”

“Yes, really.”  But he didn’t sound happy about it.  “You made your feelings quite clear this morning, and then Ruby phoned and invited me.”

The idea that Regina must really be desperate warred against total, crushing heartbreak.  Emma almost dropped her phone.

“Swan?”

“Yeah,” she said, in a voice that didn’t sound like it was making words.  “Sure.  Uh, save me a dance, okay?”

“Like you care?”

“Of course I care!”  The words came out louder than she meant them to.  “I just—”

(And she couldn’t help thinking, somehow, that this was not the first time they’d had this fight.)

“Admit it, Swan.  You see a future here.  A good one.”  If it wasn’t meant to be a doorway conversation it was brutal as a telephone call.  “But you’re afraid to be a part of something.  And I--” he took a deep breath “—I need to stop chasing you.  I’ll see you tonight.”

—

Be a part of something.

You see a future here.  A good one.

Perhaps there is a man you loved in the life you’ve lost.

We make a good team.

Choose to see the best in him.

—

Emma ignored the empty chair between her and Killian; ignored him, too.  And everyone, really.  No one had blinked when she made excuses for “Walsh Green” and no one seemed suspicious in the least and somehow that made everything even worse, until she excused herself to go to the restroom.

“I need to fix my lipliner,” she said, hoping that make everyone leave her alone.

Alas.

“The thing is, Emma—”  Mary Margaret cleared her throat.  “You have these walls, you know?”

“Barricades.”  Ruby snorted and leaned against the door, blocking it so they wouldn’t be interrupted.  “With moats and shit.  Piranhas and sharks and things swimming around and a troll at the bridge.”

“You’re the one that brought him!” Emma very carefully did not yell, not that anyone could hear them.  

“Yeah.”  Ruby fixed her with a stare.  “Did it work?”

“What?”  Emma turned back to Mary Margaret.  “I have a boy—”

Ruby’s smile practically bared her teeth.  “I dare you to say that to Killian and pretend it isn’t true.  You’ve been fucking for at least a month already.”

Emma couldn’t even deny it.  She looked between Ruby and Mary Margaret and felt herself deflate.

“You have these walls,” Mary Margaret repeated.  Firmly.  “And they keep out more than just pain.”

—

She definitely wasn’t moping as she sat outside in the garden under the apple tree, away from the hustle and bustle of the reception.  

(She definitely wasn’t waiting for him, as if she knew he would come, as if she remembered it because it happened before and Killian Jones would go to the end of the world or time before he ever stopped chasing her.)

But then he was there, like magic, devastating in a jacket that fit him perfectly and looking at her with bottomless blue eyes like he never wanted to look at anything else, ever.  Memorizing her.

Mesmerizing her.

She smiled and stood up.

“I was hoping it’d be you,” she said, and watched his smile light up.

(Green, and white.  Faith and trust and pixie dust.)

“Dance with me,” he said.

Flicker.

Flickerflickerflickerflick—

--

@shireness-says @kmomof4 @mariakov81 @pirateherokillian @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @spartanguard @justanotherflailgirl

[sabraeal]

Provocateur, Prologue

[Read on AO3]

Written for @krispy-kream in honor of her birthday. Many years ago, back when I first joined fandom, I came up with the idea for an Obi Works For Izana AU, and both Sharon and I ended up writing small pieces of a much larger whole. And now FINALLY...I’m actually writing the very beginning 🤣

When it comes down to it, in terms of area and amenities, the royal dungeons has some of his last few flats beats.

There’s light, for one. He’s never liked basement apartments-- he’d take a stifling attic room over a place with only one exit any day-- but the windows here are high up on the wall, enough that he can watch the sun paint his cell floor as the hours pass. They’re ground level, at least by the foot traffic outside of ‘em, and with how loud these guards gossip, he’ll know whose girlfriends are pregnant and who’s nursing a nasty boil by shift change. Just like sitting in a tavern for a few hours, only with less ale.

There’s a cot too, straw-stuffed and a little too soft, with a blanket that doesn’t even itch. Seems like it might be warm too, for when the nights get cold. Not that he has an intention of testing out that particular hunch.

The guard down the hall is decent in the way authority figures never are; when he calls out to ask where his piss bucket is, the man-- boy? It’s hard to tell beneath those helmets-- ushers him down a hall to a water closet, and when he pops out, reminds him to take care to wash his hands. He’s prompt about mealtime too; when supper comes, the man says to expect three square and leaves him with with a dinner that would put most publicans to shame.

All in all, this isn’t the worst trouble he’s gotten himself into. Worlds better than that stint he’d had in Eurikenna’s gaol. Or that night in Port City.

Still, he’s got no plans to linger. No point in sticking around for a punishment when he's got no interest in redemption. But he’s got a prince to wait for.

Oh, His Highness might say he’s above getting his hands dirty, might look down that noble nose at a man like him who makes his living in trade, but he’d seen his look. Not the first, when his little mistress was watching, all puffed cheeks and disapproving brow, but the second, that glance over his shoulder as the Big Man frogmarched a dirty rat down into the dungeons.

That one was a man who had found the right tool for the job. Hands don’t stay clean without gloves to cover them, especially if they mean to hold a mistress who collects trouble like some ladies collect hairpins. If he wants to keep his side piece quiet, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll have to make a statement. And nothing says don’t touch what’s mine like a few accidents. All he has to do is wait out a royal conscience.

The light fades as he waits, just the last stretch of dusky light yawning on the sill. It’s almost time for all good little princes to be in bed, but this one-- this one will be working instead. The hand that grabbed him had been stained with ink and calluses both; the kind of man who longed for action but was stuck behind a desk. He’ll be up late, managing men and supplies miles away on paper, but in his head--

Oh, in his head, he’ll be thinking about the man he’s left to rot in the dungeons. The one that might be just the right fit for what he needs, for the jobs he can’t give that giant or the pretty girl at his side. It’s the sort of idea that’ll eat at him when the lamps are low and the night is quiet, and oh, how a conscience can gnaw when there’s no more work to feed it. There’s a reason he’s never idle. Not usually, at least.

He casts a long glance down the silent hall; the guard sits at his table, log book spread in front of him, another smaller one laid atop. A novel, by the slack-jawed look that’s slapped across his face. In Eurikenna, his reputation had preceded him, and they’d bound him hand and foot, bolting his wrists to the wall and his feet to the bench. Viande had put him in a cell with a single window and stone on all sides, his only escape leading into a moat rumored to be prowled by sharks.

Here he has a single guard and bars he could probably squeeze through if he skipped a meal or two. It’s insulting to be so underestimated-- or it would be, if he wasn’t already planning to stay. He’s paid out his room at the inn for a week; a few days to enjoy the impeccable food and passable mattress he’s got here won’t hurt-- just as long as he makes it back before the innkeep tosses all his worldly goods in the gutter. And if he does need to make a quick escape--

Well, it’s hardly the first time he’s slipped the noose. But it won’t come to that. Younger Highness is on the hook.

The door to the dungeon clanks open; it’s a softer sound, barely loud enough for him to hear, but he hasn’t made a name for himself by being the sort of person who only hears what he ought. The guard’s gone-- book too-- and his hand itches to have something that ends with a point in it. He should have known, this was all too easy.

A shrouded figure sweeps through the threshold, prowling with the easy confidence only men born to power possessed-- or a professional. His hands flexed, too empty. He’s a loose end, an embarrassing stain on a proud man’s reputation, and there’s only one thing to do with that-- rub it out.

“You’re not the prince,” he says, keeping his voice even, maybe a bit petulant. Boldness wins a bluff; all he needs is time. Just a second, a hesitation--

Which he gets; the figure’s boots scuffing to a stop. Its head cocks, curious. “Is that so?”

It’s a man’s voice, higher than he expects, but resonant. The sort that people listen to when they’re not looking for a way out. The sort that won’t care for a man turning his back on it.

“You’re too tall.” He saunters to his cot, the mattress sinking under his weight. Not quite the attitude he’d been hoping for, but close enough. Gives him enough time to realize his cloaked friend isn’t talking-- no, instead he catches the barest tremble of cloth before a gloved hand tugs it smooth.

“How...astute,” the man hums, a strange lift kicking that first vowel before he smooths that out too. Everything about this man is slick, from the shine of his boots to the way he says, “That must be the observational skills that tempted even the marquis to hire you.”

His grin flicks into a grimace, but habit wipes that all clean before he says, “I wasn’t hired by anyone. Just wanted to...advertise my skills. In case anyone with a fat wallet found themselves needing a problem taken care of.”

Another pause, this one heavier. “And this girl seemed like a likely target?”

“A commoner nosing around a prince?” A laugh huffs out of him. “What about that isn’t a problem? At least when it’s a lady, she doesn’t have pockets that need filling, but some little herbalist girl? There’s a long way between lady slippers and slippers for a lady. And not everyone wants to kiss hems to get a mistress in their pocket.”

Not when it’s just as like to be covered in mud. If there’s one thing he’s learned about these bluebloods, it’s that they only suck up, not down.

The shroud shifts, arms folding across a chest too slender to be called broad, and shoulders too wide to be scrawny. Lithe, perhaps, the perfect size to slip through a man’s guard.

“The job is over, you know.” Boot heels clack as the man draws closer, just enough to see a defined chin beneath the shadows of his hood. “There’s no need for all this cloak and dagger. Haruka has already confessed to the crown that he was the one to hire you.”

His fingers flex behind his head, longing for something besides bristle to cross his palms. “Don’t know why he’s going through all the trouble. I don’t know him.”

This isn’t his first interrogation, but it’s certainly the slowest. The man stands silently outside the bars, a single finger lying along his diamond-cut jawline. No questions, no speculation, just a shadow staring out of a hood, observing. This must be what it’s like to be boiled alive; put in the pot when it’s barely a simmer, the heat raising so gradually that it’s not until his chest is near bursting to speak, to fill the silence, that he knows he’s been cooked.

“What would you have done?” the man says, finally. “If you had your way with the girl.”

The girl who, in the face of danger, tore an arrow from the wall rather than run. “Nothing permanent.”

What little he can see of the shroud’s mouth curves. “How very vague. So many unpleasant things only take a moment.”

“The job was to scare her off,” he admits, wondering why his belly quivered in his gut. There’s bars between them, and his hands are faster than any nob’s, no matter how good the costume. But still, his muscles lay coiled against his bones, ready to strike. “Seduce her, if she seemed...amenable. Bribe her if she didn’t.”

“And what then?” It’s a quicker response than he expects, but the man isn’t agitated-- far from it, he’s never seemed calmer. “If the girl proved impervious to your more...gentle measures.”

There’s a question in that, one the shroud won’t voice. But he hears it, loud in his ears as a bell’s gong.

“I’ve killed before,” he says, each word on thin ice. “And I still sleep at night.” Barely. “I could have done it again.”

“But would you?”

For once, he hesitates. Imagines looking into those bright eyes, the ones that flamed so fiercely in defiance, and with the flick of a wrist, snuffing them out.

“It’d be a waste.” His hands tremble where they cradle his head, a command he hasn’t given them. This is the last thing he needs right now, losing control. “That girl’s got a lot of pluck. And if rumors around the pharmacy are right, a lot of brains too. Besides, bodies make more talk than bribes.”

“That they do.” There’s a lilt to those words, almost amused. “You know, you called it a job. Implying that you received compensation for your services.”

It’s a sting to realize he’s slipped. “Doesn’t mean it was the marquis.”

“It certainly doesn’t,” the man agrees, and if this room weren’t so dark, if this conversation wasn’t so serious-- well, he’d be tempted to say this guy is laughing at him. “Do you have a name?”

He turns to him real slow-like, one utterly dubious brow arched toward the guard’s register. “You want me to believe you can’t read?”

That shadow of a mouth lifts again. “Am I to believe a man of your skill gave your birth name to the royal guard?”

His mouth cocks into a grin. “You must if you think I’m gonna give it to you.”

The man comes closer still, one gloved hand wrapping around his bars. He’s visible to the tip of his nose; a long, patrician one.

“Of course. But you must have something you would like to be called.” His lips-- bowed, the most fashionable in Clarines’ court-- twitch toward a smile, but fall perilously short. “An alias, if you will.”

“Obi.” It’s too short, too quick, but already he likes it. It’s a more playful name than he’s had in a long while. Easy to lose, too, if he needs it.

“Well then, Obi.” His arm rests over one of the cross bars of his cell. “I believe I have a proposition for you.”

“Haah.” He hops to his feet, hoping to seize the high ground. “I appreciate the interest, but I’m already waiting on an offer.”

To say the hood recoiled would be an overstatement, it merely pulls back, barely more than an inch. “An offer?”

“Well, maybe more like...I have prospects.” Obi restrains his grin to little more than a twitch. “I just gotta see if they’ll pan out.”

The hood stills, thoughtful. “What if I could guarantee you a better offer?”

“You couldn’t.”

The man hums, amusement changing his pitch. “I quite sure I could.”

“Nah.” Obi shakes his head, almost wishing it weren’t so. This guy seems like he could be real fun, if he got his hands on his reins. “I don’t think so.”

“Please.” He opens a hand; an invitation. “Try me.”

“Fine.” There’s nothing to lose by telling, besides some face, if he’s wrong. Which Obi knows he’s not. “I got a feeling the next guy through that door’ll be His Highness.”

The man rocks back, like he’s been hit. “Zen? You think...?”

Obi expects some bargaining, some disbelief, maybe even some haggling, but--

He does not expect the laugh.

“Oh,” the man coughs, lifting a hand as if he might wipe tears from his eyes. “I promise you, I can give you a...far more attractive offer.”

Now that’s a rich one. “What could be better than a second prince?”

The man’s hand raises past his eyes, right to the edge of his hood. With the barest flick of his fingers, the cloth falls back, baring bright gold and Wisteria blue.

“Why,” drawls His Highness Izana Wisteria, crown prince, soon to be first of his name, “the first.”

[louisapennyfeather2021]

Newsies(2017) at the Beach

Jack is watching everyone, but he's also being a total child. Yes, he's like the dad and wants to make sure everyone is alright, but have you seen the guy? He's running through the water and getting knocked over by waves. He tries to play a round of beach volleyball, but ends up having to save Romeo from drowning cause the kid forgot he can't swim.

Davey is keeping tabs on everyone, but it's Davey. He's trying to build to most realistic, functioning sand castle with a moat, draw bridge, and everything. At some point, Race tramples it while playing beach volleyball and Davey chases him around with the volleyball for half an hour.

Katherine is just having the time of her life. The girl is a beach junkie. She has a cooler full of beach snacks, a big umbrella, a flashy beach towel, and even a beach ball. No one ever knew, but the girl can surf. She spends most of the morning surfing and then teaches Les and some of the other guys how to surf on foam boards. It's the highlight of her day to see them all slip in the shallow waves, except Les. He catches on quickly and ends up teaching with Katherine.

Race is being Race, but worse. He has a full day of pranks and jokes planned. He has a fake shark fin hat that he uses to scare Elmer. Him and Albert bury Jojo in the sand while he takes a nap. The one thing he didn't mean to do was run through Davey's sandcastle, so you can imagine the fear he felt when he trampled the extravagant build. Even after Davey calmed down, Race kept looking over his shoulder.

Albert is being a beach stud. He's flexing whenever someone passes, he's playing beach volleyball, and overall trying to look good. He gets cocky when Katherine tries to show him how to surf and he's the one who falls in the water the most. Even though he knew about Race's shark fin prank, he screamed. Like a small child. Elmer didn't even freak out as much as he did. Race choked on sea water from laughing so hard.

Romeo is working on his tan. After trying to learn to surf and almost drowning, he just laid down on a towel and relaxed. His logic is that ladies like a good tan, but he ends up falling asleep and getting a horrible sun burn. His entire front side is beat red and his back is its normal shade. His tan lines are horrid, but he isn't too focused on them. He's more focused on avoiding Race and Albert so they don't smack his sun burn. It happens many times.

Les is kind of everywhere. He builds a sand castle, learns to surf on a foam board, plays some beach volleyball. At one point, he somehow convinces a guy to take him parasailing. Davey had a minor heart attack, but Les had a great time. The best part was he got to look over to the beach and see Davey running circles and yelling while everyone else started laughing.

Elmer is like Les, but without the parasailing. He doesn't build Sandcastles, but he makes some sand sculptures with JoJo. He even makes Jojo into a sand sculpture after Race and Albert bury him.

Finch is digging a hole. He digs a big hole near the water and he's super proud of himself... Until the tide comes in and starts filling up his hole. Just imagine the scene from Friends where Joey dug a hole. It's just like that.

Specs is searching for "treasure" with a metal detector. He finds a lot of trash, but he also finds some coins and rings. He creates quite a collection. He uses some of his treasures to convince Race and Albert to not smack Romeo's sun burns. It works for a total of five minutes.

Jojo... The poor kid... The morning started out great, he just sat in the beach to wait for it to warm up a bit. It was cold out in the morning and he doesn't like swimming in the cold. It just bothers him. When he does go swimming, Race pulls his swim trunks down in the water. He freaked out and immediately left the water. While he was still soaking wet, he tripped over his own feet and got completely covered in sand. He cleaned off in the water and Katherine convinced him to try to surf. He did pretty well, better than Albert. When he got tired, he laid down on a towel to nap. This resulted in him getting covered in sand, yet again. He was annoyed, but he didn't want to move because Elmer had made a mermaid sculpture and Jojo had to admit, he was a hot mermaid.

Spot is the angry life guard parent who's constantly yelling at Race for misbehaving. He chases Race around with a water gun and sprays him whenever he pulls a prank. He has the sunscreen on his nose and the sunglasses like a real life guard stereotype does, but this only results in Race laughing at him.

Let me know if you agree or if you'd change anything!

[kingdomofallthehearts]

The New Girl in Town

SoKai Week 2020 - Day 2 - First Meeting

Synopsis: The teacher introduced a new girl and for some reason Sora can’t help but notice her.

Featuring: Sora, Kairi, Riku, Selphie, Wakka, Tidus

Prompt for the Day: First Meeting / Unseen Adventures

“Alright children, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our newest friend.”

Standing beside the teacher was a petite girl wearing a white dress with big purple flowers along the trim. She had shoulder length hair the color of fresh raspberries and her eyes were bluer than the sea surrounding the islands.

“Her name is Kairi. She’ll be staying with us for a while, so be nice.”

Before Sora even had a chance to introduce himself, a bubbly brunette in a pair of yellow overalls and a white t-shirt ran over to greet the new kid.

“Hi Kairi! My name is Selphie. Let’s get along!”

“That’s Selfie for you,” a voice said from behind, disrupting Sora’s thoughts. “—Woah, Riku! You snuck up on me!” “Did not. I was here the whole time. You were just too busy staring at the new girl to notice, which is very rude by the way.” “—I…I wasn’t staring! I was just… listening to the teacher! Yeah, that’s it!” “Whatever you say.” The young boy with silver locks gave a knowing smirk, but he opted to drop the argument. After all, he was a year older than Sora. He had to be the bigger person. The more mature of the two, which annoyed Sora to no end. Usually, he’d push back against Riku’s apathy, but a fit of giggles from the two girls distracted Sora from any feelings of irritation.

“Hey Riku, do you think that’s the girl living at the mayor’s house?” Riku made mention of such a girl earlier when the two were playing at the secret place. In fact, they planned on visiting later that day, but once they arrived at the mayor’s house there was a maze of long legs blocking them from reaching the front door. They opted to try again on a day that was less crowded, but never got around to it.

“It has to be. It’s not like we get many visitors. And what are the chances of two girls our age moving here at the same time?” He was right. That’s Riku for you. He always had an answer to everything, even when speaking to the adults! Sora was proud to have him as a best friend.

Another fit of giggles erupted from the two girls. What are they laughing about? Sora didn’t understand girls at all. Selphie was the only girl around Sora’s age, but she never wanted to do anything fun! She wasn’t interested in racing to the shack or swimming in the water or playing with swords. All she wanted to do was talk and build sandcastles. Boring. Yet Sora couldn’t peel his eyes away from the girl with bright red hair. Kairi, was it? There was something different about her.

______________________________________________________________

After pre-k, the children made a habit of rowing to the play islands. When they were younger, they could only go to the island when their parents were available. But with Riku and Wakka being the oldest of the group, they convinced the parents to trust them. Well, Riku did most of the convincing, but it worked nonetheless.

Sora and Riku just finished an incredibly heated race and needed to take a breather. As they were catching their breath, a pair of sandals approached them.

“Hi there!” “—H…hiya.” The new girl?!? What is she doing here? “Hello. It’s nice to meet you,” Riku cut in, “I’m Riku and this shorty is my best friend Sora.” “Hey, my mom said if I drink a whole lot of milk, I’ll be taller than everyone! I bet I’ll even be taller than those trees!” “That’s impossible.” “No it’s not!” “Yes it is.” “No—“ Suddenly a burst of the joyful laughter Sora heard before erupted from the new girl. It sounded like… well Sora didn’t know what it sounded like. He just knew that hearty giggle made him feel all tingly… in a good way! Riku must have felt something too, because that infectious laughter had the both of them smiling ear to ear. “My name is—“ “Kairi, right? We heard the teacher introduce you earlier.” So Riku WAS paying attention. And he had the nerve to poke fun of me for watching her interact with Selphie. “—Wait a second, weren’t you hanging out with Selphie?” “Yup. She introduced me to Tidus and Wakka, but then they started arguing, so I decided to see what you two were up to.” And lo and behold, Sora and Riku could make out an angry Selphie frantically shaking her finger at an equally angry Wakka and a defeated looking Tidus. “So, what are you up to?” “We just finished a really intense race! You should’ve seen my victory!” “Don’t you mean my victory?” “No way! I totally got here first.” “No you didn’t.” “Did so!” “Did not.” “Did—“ Suddenly Sora could feel those unfamiliar blue eyes watching him. He didn’t feel like arguing anymore. “I… It doesn’t matter,” Sora conceded to Riku’s shock. That was usually his job. “Kairi’s here now, so let’s ask what she wants to do,” Sora said as he turned to face her with a wide grin. “What… what I want to do?” “Sure! Let’s play together!” “Hmm…” Kairi carefully considered their options. The boys looked pretty tired from their race, so that was out of the question. And nobody brought a swimsuit, so they couldn’t go swimming. What to do? What to do? Her bright blue eyes grew even bigger as inspiration struck. “How about we build a sandcastle?” she asked with confidence. “That’s a great idea Kairi,” Riku concurred. Sora, however, immediately regretted asking Kairi for her input. “Ye—yeah,” he managed to choke out. Sandcastles. How fun.

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The three sat on the wet sand ready to get their hands dirty, when they were startled by loud shouts coming from the opposite end of the island. Whatever argument Selphie and Wakka have gotten into has clearly escalated. And poor Tidus was caught in the middle of it.

“You guys can get started without me. I better see what’s going on.” That’s Riku for you. Always the responsible one. But in this case, Sora wanted to go instead. Anything was better than building sandcastles. However, Riku was already halfway across the island before Sora could protest.

Kairi picked up a nearby bucket and started filling it with sand. She never made a sandcastle before, but she knew what castles looked like! Or at least, she had an idea of what castles looked like. Kairi wondered what it would be like to live in a castle, but quickly pushed the thought out of her mind when it was time to flip over the bucket. She slowly lifted the compacted pail and… “Perfect!” she thought. She lifted her head to see if Sora was admiring her work, but found him pushing around sand with a stick looking unsure of what to do.

Oh no. He doesn’t look like he’s having fun. Was this a bad idea? Kairi was starting to doubt her decision until she spotted a shovel next to her foot.

“Here.” Kairi handed the plastic yellow shovel to Sora. “You can dig the moat.” “The moat…” Sora repeated, “what’s a moat?” “It’s a giant hole filled with water that goes around the castle.”
 “Why would you want a giant hole filled with water around a castle?” “To protect the princess! You fill the hole with piranhas and sharks and uh… jellyfish so bad guys can’t capture the princess!” “Castles have piranhas and sharks and jellyfish!?!?” Sora was starting to think maybe sandcastles weren’t as boring as he once believed. “Of course! They also have traps that are meant to capture any enemies who dare to enter. And if a bad guy somehow gets passed the moat and the traps, he would have to fight against a lot of strong knights.” “Woah! Knights! What are we waiting for? We have to help them!” Sora jammed the shovel into the sand as fast as possible to create a moat as deep as the ocean. “Do you like knights, Sora?” “Obviously! Knights are the coolest. They wear shiny armor and use weapons that can take down dragons and are the strongest people in the world!” “Hehe, if you like knights so much Sora, you should be one!” “Re—really?” Sora wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt embarrassed. “Th-then if I’m a knight, you have to be the princess.” “Oh—okay.” Kairi was suddenly feeling hot. Must be the island weather. She wasn’t quite used to the heat. “Alright!” Sora’s previous embarrassment was replaced with a newfound enthusiasm. “Don’t worry Kairi, I’ll be the toughest knight around. Nobody will be able to defeat me, not even Riku! I’ll protect you from all the bad guys.” “Then, I’ll protect you too!” Sora’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on the redhead. “What? Princesses don’t protect knights.”
 “Why not?” “I’m—I’m not sure.” “Then I’ll be the first.” She beamed at Sora and he smiled back just as wide. If Kairi has the power to make building sandcastles fun, who knows what else she can do? I should ask her to play tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the day after that! We can run and swim and build sandcastles and… who knows? Maybe I can even show her the secret place.

Sora looked up and watched Kairi concentrate on stuffing her bucket to the brim with sand. Almost on cue, she raised her head to make eye contact and let out that whimsical giggle Sora couldn’t get enough of. He definitely wanted to show her the secret place.

As the day turned to dusk, Sora and Kairi worked tirelessly to build an incredible sandcastle. They wanted it to be perfect. After all, they had a promise to keep. It would only be later in life that the two would learn a knight and a princess don’t need a castle to protect each other.

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Notes: Behold! Prompt #2! Featuring an original story this time :D But in all seriousness, thank you for the likes and reblogs on my last post (and the tags... I’ve enjoyed reading them :p) I do have something in the works for tomorrow’s prompt so hopefully I’ll finish in time, but who knows. Anyway, I hope everyone is enjoying sokai week as much as I am!

[candy-floss-crazy]

This is a tale of disaster and destruction caused by a close friend of mind who is a dead ringer for the grim reaper. Let me introduce Fred. Fred is is the sort of guy that if you had a problem would be the first there to help you. If he had a £1 and you needed it more than him he would let you have it. He does however have a couple of issues. First is his propensity to eat. By eat, I don't mean take enough calories in to survive. I mean eat like a garbage disposal machine on steroids. He once went with a family group to an Indian restaurant. The waiter came to Fred first, took his order then started to leave. When another guest asked the waiter where he was going he replied "To the kitchen with your order." No mate, that is Fred's order, the rest of the table want food as well. Claim To Fame For a time he had a minor claim to fame at Harry Ramsdens Fish and Chip shop in Hong Kong. It seems they had a challenge, eat their special fish and chip dish and you got it for free. So Fred being Fred was up for the challenge. When it arrived they reported that it was the size of a small shark. It was huge, with a pile of chips you could have used for mountaineering exercise, and enough mushy peas to fill the moat at the Tower of London. The waiter explained the rules, you had a set amount of time to eat it, you couldn't share it etc. When he asked Fred if there was anything else he needed to know Fred told him, "Yes, can I have some slices of bread and butter please as I am quite hungry." Suffice it to say Fred demolished the dish and ended up with his picture on the wall. A Modern Day Frank Spencer Fred's other trait, is that he is a combination of the grim reaper and Frank Spencer. Now if you are too young to remember Frank, check this video out. Basically he was what could charitably be described as an idiot. He meant well, and tried his best, but whatever he did would set off a chain reaction that ended up in chaos and mayhem. When the Challenger space shuttle exploded, Fred was in America. He was somewhere in the region when the tsunami hit a few years back. And I have no doubt that once scientists get to the bottom of Covid 19, Fred will be a link in the chain, probably with something he ate. I was once with him at a Masonic social event, when 2 buttons popped off of his shirt, flew across the table and hit a guy in the eye. He promptly turned and punched a neighbour because he though he had attacked him. That's the sort of thing Fred can create without even trying. Fred and His Rides Anyway, Fred owns a couple of children's funfair rides, and occasionally we contract him in for jobs. A couple of days after one such contract Fred rang to tell me he had encountered a problem on the job. Now, my standing instructions are that problems are to be reported to me as soon as they happen so that I can contact the client and try and sort it out, rather than them ringing me days later upset. So I immediately went into a rant, questioning the marital status of Fred's parents when he was born, and introducing him to some other Anglo Saxon phrases. In between a pause for breath, Fred interjected that it hadn't actually happened on the job. Good, that calmed me down a bit. What he said happened was, well I will let Fred tell you in his own words! The Pheasant When I set off home in my transit van, towing the ride, the motorway was closed due to an accident, so my sat nav diverted me cross country. I was sat at a nice 60 mph, on a single carriageway road, when I hit a pheasant. The said pheasant, was catapulted at high velocity, across the road, whereupon it happened to smack the lead rider, in a pair of cyclists, smack bang in the side of the head. He promptly disappeared over the edge of the road, and down a 20 ft embankment. Now, I felt partially responsible for this state of affairs, so I pulled up to help him. Coming the other way, was a lovely elderly couple in a beautiful vintage car, that I later learnt from them, they had been 15 years restoring it to its current state. They also saw what had happened, and pulled up on the other side of the road. I climbed down the bank with the other cyclist, his mate was a bit battered and shaky, his bike wheels were bent into weird shapes, so we helped him back up the bank, and then retrieved his bike. The Incredible Hulk The cyclist sat for a few minutes pulling himself together, then asked what had happened. I pointed at the pheasant, feebly twitching at the edge of the road and explained. The rider, stood up, then ran at the pheasant and booted across the road. Straight into the path of a four door pick up truck. The driver instinctively swerved, and ran straight into the elderly couples vintage car. Turning it into a pile of parts scattered over a wide area. As the pickup came to a stop, the door opened, and what can only be described as a white version of the incredible hulk unfurled himself from the interior. As he walked towards us all, he growled "I have just driven that out of the showroom, its my first ever brand new motor, I am on the way to show me mam, Where did that fu***ng bird come from?" Exit Left Deciding that I so wanted to continue living, I pointed at the cyclist, and said he kicked it. Mr Hulk, promptly hit him with a crashing right hand. That sent him over the edge and back down the embankment. He then proceeded to jump on the other cyclists bike in an attempt to create some modern art. At this point I finally understood the phrase discretion is the better part of valour. Not wanting my initial part in the disaster to be brought up. I decided to test the acceleration of a transit van towing a ride to exit the area. Looking back as I set off, the second cyclist was clinging to the hulks neck, in a vain attempt to save his bike. The little old couple were sat crying by the roadside over their demolished car. I don't know why things like this keep happening to me! Read the full article

[queensparklekitten]

The List Of Things I Am No Longer Allowed To Do At SGE

I am not allowed to do the Thriller dance at the Snow Ball. 

I am not allowed to give cookies shaped like pigs or girls in red hoods to the wolves. 

Not allowed to train my Sidekick Challenge animal to ask random Evergirls to make a contract with them and become a magical girl. 

There is no open mic night at SGE. 

Telling first-years they can tame the crogs with tummy rubs is right out. 

Not allowed to capture fairies, crogs, spiricks, stymphs, or anyone’s sidekicks in pokeballs. 

Not allowed to purchase anyone’s soul at lunch. 

Not allowed to fill my homework with song lyrics from movies or TV shows. 

Fairies are not Christmas decorations, currency, surveillance drones, or replacements for lost sports balls or weapons.  -okay. They kind of are surveillance drones. 

Not allowed to gel my hair into the shape of a large number 1 above my head for a class challenge involving hairstyles. 

I am not allowed to start contests for who can make the biggest explosion in ANY of my classes. 

I am not from an alternate timeline. 

Not allowed to train my sidekick challenge animal to attack the wolves. 

I am not allowed to create and distribute an abridged version of The Tale Of Sophie And Agatha. 

I am not allowed to stage “The Ultimate Showdown Of Ultimate Destiny” and convince/bribe the entire Nevers Leader Track to battle each other using their talents in the middle of the clearing. 

Not allowed to use unapproved spells to repeatedly duplicate my sidekick in the challenge and create a cult dedicated to myself. 

Not allowed to chew gum during Surviving Fairy Tales. 

Definitely not allowed to chew gum and pass it off as Meerworms to avoid eating real ones. 

I cannot Pinky Love Shoot anything into oblivion. 

I am not associated with the SCP Foundation, neither am I an SCP. 

Sparkly body paint is not a substitute for my uniform. 

I am not allowed to vote people out of my Forest Group. 

I am not allowed to add the Necronomicon to other people’s required reading lists. 

I will not sell tickets to the Gallery of Good or the Exhibition of Evil. 

Not allowed to bribe students, fairies, wolves, nymphs, or ANYONE else into running and screaming whenever I quote Bee Movie. 

“She won’t shut up about TMA” is not a valid excuse to drop someone into the moat. 

I am not allowed to cast myself into the moat for having “become the very thing I swore to destroy”. 

I will not read My Immortal out loud to Nevers. 

There are no killer clowns in the Blue Forest. 

That one Neverboy does not count as a killer clown. 

The “I Hate Japeth” Club is not a proper extracurricular. 

A stymph is not an option as my Ball date. 

Putting huge amounts of sugar in Sophie’s cucumber juice, while hilarious, becomes less amusing when I get sent to the Doom Room. 

“Baby Shark” is not an appropriate song for choir. 

The proper response to being ambushed and trapped by spiricks in Surviving Fairy Tales is not to magically draw an eye on my hand and scream to the Evergirls in my group about how they’re going down. 

I am not allowed to hum or sing my own spy theme music everywhere I go. 

Not allowed to go to class in any form of Halloween mask. 

Nevergirls do not all weigh the same as ducks. 

No Evil teacher is interested in appearing as the “before” picture for a line of cosmetics. 

I am not allowed to challenge any other students to Agni Kai. 

The wolves do not want flea collars. 

Stink bombs were funny exactly once. 

I am not allowed to send copies of the Evil Overlord List to Leader-track Nevers. 

Garlic does not ward off any Nevers. It probably does the opposite, really. 

No part of the school uniform is edible. 

I am not allowed to do the Macarena at the Snow Ball. 

The wolves did not eat my homework. 

I am not allowed to teach first-year Evergirls to say insults and cuss words in animal languages, under the guise of helping them with their Animal Communication homework. 

I am not allowed to arrange flash dances to happen at random during the day. 

I am not an avatar of anything and I will not starve to death if I don’t scare prank my classmates on a regular basis. 

Not allowed to prove that “the pen is mightier than the sword” by dueling the Storian. 

I will not organize an SGE Fight Club. 

Not allowed to lap dance people at the Snow Ball. 

The fairies are not there to do my homework. 

Not allowed to ask Uma when we’ll learn about Furbies. 

Braiding spiricks together is right out. 

I will not start food fights in the Clearing and purposely escalate them into violence that ends in someone getting sent to the Doom Room.