#hypothetical kids would like glitter ->

[poindexters-labratory]

I'm kinda behind- Glamrock Puppet for day 6 of fnaftober

prompt list below:

[neonganymede]

[A scene from fyosiglai play until dawn, a hypothetical sequel to Bad Decisions

A link to the scene they're playing in Until Dawn. Warning for typical horror game violence! ]

“Well, that’s not an obvious death trap or anything,” Sigma muttered as he listened to the girl onscreen try to call out to the disembodied voice leading her the wrong way. “Just keep following Sam.”

Nikolai didn’t react at first, so Sigma glanced over to see if he’d dozed off. They’d been playing this game for a while, and he didn’t even want to think about what time it could be. Instead of snoozing, Nikolai wore a strange expression on his face, one that Sigma recognized as his I’m-about-to-do-Something-Stupid grin.

Immediately, Sigma’s stomach dropped.

“Nikolai, no.”

“Aw, but Sigma! What if that’s our friend down there? We have to investigate!” Nikolai insisted, his innocent tone completely at odds with the manic glee that brightened his eyes. He clicked on the decision to investigate the voice, and Ashley moved forward on the screen.

Sigma tried to stay calm as he watched Nikolai fearlessly march his character toward the voice, accompanied now by the jerking sound of someone or something pushing against a locked trap door. His heart lurched each time the wooden door did, frantic and violent, and Sigma’s attempt to swallow his nerves only ended up with the sour taste of anxiety clinging to his tongue. 

Nikolai paused in front of the door, taking a moment to snicker gleefully to himself. He turned his gaze toward Sigma, his smile mean and vicious, and Sigma had an immediate flashback to their playthrough of The Quarry, particularly the moment where Nikolai ‘convinced’ Fyodor to open the trap door even though it was the most obvious death flag in the game.

“It’s clearly a trap,” Sigma tried again, already resigned to poor Ashley’s fate. He was honestly surprised she had survived this long with Nikolai controlling her, but this seemed like it would be a particularly brutal way to go. “That’s not Jessica. You know that.”

Nikolai hummed to himself, rocking from side to side as he completely ignored Sigma’s plea to save Ashley from an unfortunate end. He clicked the button, and his character bent down in front of the trap door. “But it could be, Sigma! What if we’re killing poor Jessica by leaving her to die here?”

“It’s not Jessica!”

“It sounds like her!”

“You know these creatures can mimic human speech! It’s not her! Fedya, please tell him!” Sigma turned to Fyodor, expecting support from the least likely source.

Fyodor yawned, and Sigma could read clear boredom in his violet eyes. He seemed utterly impassive from within his blanket burrito, too tired for Nikolai’s nonsense or Sigma’s pleading. He likely didn’t care what happened here, likely hadn’t cared for a while, but maybe he would see reason and stop Nikolai’s antics before they got another one of their characters killed!

So when Fyodor leaned his head forward as though to listen to the voice and make a formal declaration, Sigma wasn’t sure why he was so surprised by the result.

“I think Nikolai’s reasoning makes perfect sense. That could be Jessica, or it could be a monster. We will never truly know unless we open the door… correct?” Fyodor’s eyes glittered with mischief, and his mouth curved into a devilish smile the moment Nikolai began cheering from the other side of the couch.

“Guess not! Let’s open the door!”

“Are you kidding me?!” Sigma grumbled, jostled back and forth by Nikolai’s incessant bouncing. He faced the screen again, his teeth caught between his lower lip as he watched Nikolai happily undo the latch to the trap door.

The door opened, and all went quiet. Then the creature burst through the opening, and Sigma yelped in time with Ashley. He watched in horror as the monster grabbed the girl by the face, but the screen cut away before he had to see her head ripped off. He still had to listen to the crunch, the thud, and he covered his eyes to keep from seeing her disembodied head falling into view.

“Oospie! Guess it was a trap!” Nikolai practically howled with laughter, and he kicked his feet out in unrestrained glee at the carnage he had caused.

“What do you mean, oopsie!? Of course it was a trap! Ugh! How is this game both better and worse than the other one?!” Sigma wailed, not looking at the screen again until he heard the trap door close with another resounding thud.

“Really? I thought The Quarry’s death scenes were so much better! More blood! More violence! And we got to chop somebody’s arm off!”

“I did like the werewolves better,” Sigma admitted as he hesitantly returned his attention to the screen.

The point of view had shifted to Chris now, so Nikolai happily handed the controller over to Fyodor, entirely oblivious to Sigma’s tired glare. Undeniably pleased with himself, he snuggled up to Sigma and began to cover the side of his face in a plethora of chaotic kisses.

“Aw, don’t worry, Sigma! I’m sure that won’t happen again!”

“It better not!”

“Listen to Kolya. Do you truly believe that this game would try to trick us with the same scenario when we just saw what happened to poor, sweet Ashley?” Fyodor teased as he followed the same path that Nikolai had.

To the same intersection. To the same pause, the same voice, the same decision—

Sigma sighed, defeated, as Fyodor’s click the option to investigate the voice. Nikolai’s feral giggles returned, and he leaned forward in anticipation of yet another gruesome decapitation.

And as Chris lumbered toward his own death, Sigma wondered why he’d agreed to play this after all the horrors he’d endured last time. Why had he expected this to be any different? Why hadn’t he learned his lesson?

“After all, what fool would make the same mistake twice?”

[draco-after-dark]

What would happen if there was an AU on your AU of Feral JD finding an abandoned egg and raising it? Idk it's an idea that poped into my mind lol

Like a hypothetical?

Feral finding an egg was never really something i thought of or planned to have happen in my au.

A big part of why Feral is the way his is is because he was alone for 20 years. He had no one. Not even Ronda. It was just himself and the forest surrounding him. The main reason he lost so much of himself was because he quite literally lost everything. He had nothing left.

The only left for him was to survive. To live for his family.

Another thing being the reason he left his family to begin with was to escape his responsibilities. to finally live for himself. Enjoy that things he always wanted to do.

So by giving him an egg to take responsibility for regardless of when he finds it feels like back tacking.

I'm saying Feral would just find an egg and abandon it though. He would do his best to take care of them but you also have to look at things from the other side.

Feral doesn't have the resources to take care of a baby. A big thing for him is he's always moving. Babies need stability, and I'm assuming trolling's are probably in the same vote. I could see him successfully taking care of a slightly older trolling like preteen age.

Being honest though if Feral found an abandoned egg or trolling he would take them to the nearest village or if they knew where they came from then back to their home. He knows the woods isn't a safe place for a kid to grow up in. Feral's been hurt enough just surviving on his own if all the scars he has is anything to go by.

So yeah no eggs for Feral

spoiler below

That doesn't mean he wouldn't protect and comfort the hell out of someone carrying an egg though. Especially if that someone was close to him.

Or say if a certain small glitter troll maybe met a certain big feral troll and took a liking to him.

but like ehh who knows.

[endeavvor]

Chekov's stare is met with the slight raising of Kirk's brows. It is coupled with the way he is leaning in his chair resting heavily on his elbow as his hands clasp loosely in front of him. There is nothing overtly authoritative about it, just genuine amusement coupled with his general cocksurety, AND YET the intent is clear: Yes, I do.

As the doctor was the captain's roommate in the academy and confidant, he knew the exact type of learning that could potentially grab hold of this young mind and run rampant. In fact, the idea of being stuck in the crossfire of two overly critical individuals with a tendency towards pessimism that never met a euphemism they did not like made the airlock seem like a viable option for escape.

He would rather subject himself to the phsyical he'd been avoiding.

He bodily shuddered at the thought.

Though he hopes it is missed in whatever is currently happening before him. He'd seen the kid's - used only because of his age, though the gap between them is not so large - processing power. Had witnessed him work through problems in a split second, but this was something else entirely. Something that had Kirk sitting up a little straighter, brows pulling together, lips parting as he's not entirely sure he's not about to have to page the very doctor he just mentally shamed.

"Slow down."

An order, bred of concern, until he's having to crane his neck back at the sudden closeness of the screen. He does a cursory scan of the wall of statistical data, initially, seeing nothing, he peeks over it to the excitement on the other's expression. He's found something. It's what tells him to slow down, take another glance.

Kirk takes the PADD and is silent for a few moments, running through the scans again. At first glance, it appears rudimentary what he is looking at down to the exactness of the elements present to make up a star, but there are subtle anomalies. A hint of solid structure beneath that leads the brain into thinking it is more planetary. Though he can't rightly say that line of thinking is correct either. It wouldn't explain the proximity of the masses, or the nagging feeling that an important piece of the puzzle is missing.

Something is there that should not be.

Wanting a different visual, he sends the data to himself and stands, crossing over to a larger screen where he has more area to work. He runs the data through a projection hypothetical, mapping the points and noting their irregular pattern as well. Like someone reached into a jar and tossed a handful of glitter on black paper. It's almost crude.

"Cloaking is a little on the nose for my liking." He's talking equally to himself and out loud to Chekov. "Though it could explain the compounds present in the initial scans. If someone desperately wanted this to look like a normal sector of space, it does pass." And yet, they never worked off just one set of statistical data. It's not the scientific method. "How long ago did you pick this up?"

Had he not been so deeply focused on the task he'd dedicated himself to, Pavel might have noticed that, at some point, the sharp lines on the screen of his PADD had begun to sway and dance, and the full weight of what he'd just said to the captain would have speared him clean through the chest, prompting a hasty, yet no less sincere apology.

Instead, Pavel knits his brows even tighter together, tapping away at the screen with furious intent. He hears half of that comment, something about acknowledging him when he comes in, and hums in response.

"I did acknowledge you, captain."

He drags his stylus across the screen, drawing a line between two diagrams that look vaguely like stars.

Out of the corner of his eye, Pavel notices the captain shuffling about, a flash of gold in his peripheral as he settles down. He is going to want to see what you're working on, the helpful voice in his head supplies, and this time when the captain speaks, Pavel listens properly.

Pavel rolls his eyes, pulling his eyes away from the screen long enough to throw the captain a teasing look that says you are not my mother and I do not need you to sign off on who I can learn from.

Maybe the doctor would not be the same kind of mentor as Mister Spock, and he's certain half the things he could so easily talk about with the commander would fly right over his head, but the doctor is a wealth of knowledge and experience in other areas.

Several different emotions flicker across his face, cycling through as fast as his racing thoughts. There's barely a second to catch one before it's gone, the thought with it, and the next one appears, offering insight to what is happening behind his eyes to anyone quick enough to see it.

He finally settles on an expression that sits halfway between a grin and a smirk, his eyes alight with the excitement that unravelling a complex puzzle brings. "Both. Maybe. I am not so sure yet and this is what I have been working to figure out. Look, sir!" He holds up his PADD and uses the stylus to point out a block of text beneath a series of complex equations.

"If you look here"—he taps the screen—"you will see what I mean. At a quick glance, these scans seem almost normal. As if these are just regular stars. But they exhibit behaviours and properties that I have not seen before, almost as if they are not stars at all, but something meant to look like them."

[staysaneathome]

Put That Thing Back Where It Came From (Or So Help Us Both)

“…aaah! Waaah!”

Martin shuts his eyes and lets his head relax further onto his pillow under it, trying to slow his breathing and will his hearing to stop working. He’s exhausted, it feels like it’ll be a matter of moments before he finally drops off to sleep—

“Waaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Martin pulls both sides of the pillow up around his face and muffles a small scream into it.

He’s just finished his night shift at the convenience store, and he only has a few hours before he needs to get up and ready for his afternoon shift at the shelter. And yeah, sure, his cheap apartment complex has extremely thin walls, but when he’d moved here his neighbor hadn’t been the kind of person who sounds like they’re torturing a small animal, so he’d figured it would be alright.

Then again, the kindly old goblin who used to live next door to him moved out not long ago, back to his clutch’s home in Amsterdam or something. And the person who’s just moved in clearly is not as considerate as their predecessor.

He lets go of the pillow, then groans when he realizes one side has gotten snagged on his horn, again.

This can’t go on, he decides as he sets about untangling himself and kicking off his blanket. He knows from experience that if he just tries to bury his head in the sand and live with it that the noises will just get worse. Better to endure the discomfort of knocking on a stranger’s door early on and ask them to keep it down so that his sleep will stay uninterrupted down the line.

Plus whatever’s wailing sounds positively heartbroken. And the animal lover in Martin has never been willing to stand idly by if someone’s making one sound like that.

He can feel that the fur on the back of his neck has gone cowlicky, and he attempts to smooth it down and shake his fringe out of his eyes as he raps smartly on his new neighbor’s door.

He can feel his shoulders hunch automatically, his customer service smile coming out. Martin knows he’s big, even for a minotaur, and he wants to put his new neighbor at ease even if he’s feeling fed up and exhausted.

There’s a soft, dry susurrus of sound behind the door, like dry leaves rasping against each other on a forest floor.

Martin can barely keep his eyes from fluttering shut when the harsh snap of locks being undone has him snapping to attention as well.

The door creaks open as the occupant shoves themself through, glaring up at him over the rims of their square glasses, eyes rich and deep. The hair falling across their forehead is velvety black, peppered with strands of grey like light shining off silk. A smart-looking button-up shirt is rolled up to their elbows and partially unbuttoned, giving Martin an unwitting glimpse of the slim, svelte form and black chest binder beneath. Below their waist, a tail of rich, deep green scales glitters in the fluorescents of the hallway, appearing to extend far into the apartment behind them.

Martin feels his breath catch.

Oh. Oh no.

This person is incredibly handsome. Almost too good-looking to really feel real, you know? Someone so far out of Martin’s league they’re not even batting in the same proverbial park. This person is in the 02 in front of millions of people, universally beloved, while Martin’s still down in a requisitioned council playing field, not even worthy of rowdy kids’ taunting. Hypothetically, he means.

Ooh, Martin’s in trouble.

“What.” Says the insanely handsome lamia in a deep, smooth, masculine voice. “Do you want.”

“I-uh.” Martin has to swallow to get his throat working, make his thick-feeling tongue form actual words. “Hi? I’m, uh, I’m Mar-Martin, Blackwood! Martin Blackwood, yes, I, um, live at the end of the corridor? Right, right next to you, actually, and-and I couldn’t help overhearing some, some noises? And normally, I wouldn’t mind but I just got off of work and I’ve another shift in a few hours, so, so I was wondering if there was anything you needed. Help? With?”

It takes a lot of willpower for him not to turn right around and brain himself on the wall behind him in response to that word salad.

The lamia scoffs, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “Well, Mr. Blackwood, unless you happen to have a degree in veterinary sciences, I very much doubt that you’ll be in any position to help me whatsoever.”

Martin’s about to protest that, okay, he maybe doesn’t have a degree, but he’s worked at a no-kill shelter for five years now so he could be considered more of a help in this particular field than maybe the average person.

But then he catches sight of what’s cradled in the lamia’s arms, and.

Well.

That’s certainly. A Creature.

In the impossibly pretty lamia’s arms is something small and hairless, apart from a patch of thick curls on the top of its rounded head. It’s a little bigger than a loaf of bread and the sort of color that Martin’s learned to associate with classroom furniture, the shade of brown kindly described as “neutral”.

It has four chubby legs, but its each of its forelegs end in an odd, starfish shape with five protrusions that’re eerily similar to hands, while its hind-legs end in a flatter, rectangular shape, also with five protrusions. The main body is also pretty chubby-looking, with small folds of skin forming where it twists and wriggles. For some reason it has a blue and pink garment covering its lower body.

It’s face is oddly flat, overall. There are two rounded things on either side of it’s head that Martin assumes are ears. There’s an odd dimple between its nose and its mouth, which is full of mostly flat, white teeth. It’s eyes are screwed shut and leaking what could be water, but also could be some other kind of clear and potentially toxic fluid. Whatever is coming out of its nose definitely is.

It’s whimpering like it’s contemplating starting up the racket that it had been making earlier again, but doesn’t know whether it has the strength to do so.

“What is that?” Martin can’t help breathing.

The lamia draws themself up, cuddling the creature closer with an imperious look. “This happens to be a cat, if you don’t mind.”

Martin looks at the lamia. Looks back down at the creature, whimpering unhappily in their arms.

“I’m sorry, in what world is that any sort of cat?”

The lamia’s expression mixes indignation, outrage, and a pout that Martin finds unfairly adorable. “They-they can’t help that they were born with a few, a few mutations!”

“A few?!” Martin can’t help the octaves his voice is reaching, even as it makes his ears flick. “Yeah, I suppose you could say that, if by ‘a few mutations’ you mean they’re an entirely different species!! Their ears aren’t even in the right place, they’ve got no whiskers, an-and do they even have claws?!”

The lamia hisses at him, fangs out in a threat display, but that causes the creature in their arms to let out a dangerously upset whine. They instantly are focused on it, bouncing it gently while making soft shushing noises until it settles once more.

Martin pinches the bridge of his snout.

“Look.” He sighs, weariness in his bones. “Has it. Has it eaten anything today?”

“You think I didn’t try that?!” The lamia hisses, sans fangs this time. “I, I gave them dry food when they arrived, and they ate a few pellets of that but then they wouldn’t touch it, or the wet food I opened!”

Martin privately feels the creature at least has a modicum of taste, because he wouldn’t touch what goes into most wet cat foods either.

“Maybe it’s not up to really digesting those foods yet.” He suggests. “Have you got any baby formula? Or, or milk in a pinch?”

The lamia makes a face that Martin suspects means ‘why on earth would I have either of those things’.

“But they’re not a baby.” They mutter. “I ordered an adult cat. Look how big they are!”

Martin looks. And whatever it is, it is quite large for an infant, even if its behavior puts him in mind of puppies or kittens crying fretfully for their mothers.

“Sometimes some breeds can be bigger than others. Like—like Maine Coons, you know?” He says, conveniently omitting the fact that he severely doubts any domesticated cat could get that large.

The lamia looks doubtfully at the creature.

The creature opens its eyes to stare dolefully back up at them and Martin, hiccoughing.

“Look, wait here a tick.” With that, Martin jogs back to his apartment, grabbing his keys out of the door where he left them.

He doesn’t have any formula lying around, but at the bottom of his bag he does find a feeding bottle that he rinses out with steaming water just in case. He also has fresh milk in for tea, so he grabs the carton.

He takes a moment as he locks his door behind him to desperately hope that whatever this creature is, it’s one that can digest cow milk without problem.

He returns with his bounty to where the lamia is waiting. “May I come in?”

“O-oh.” The lamia shifts, moving out of the doorway enough that Martin can shuffle through. “Ri-right, of course.”

Martin enters the apartment. It’s fairly neat all things considered, only a few boxes left unpacked and everything. The only mess is a box with several blankets spilling out of it and a vast assortment of cat paraphernalia, including one food bowl of kibble and another of water, both with a splash radius. A tin of wet cat food is going off on the counter.

Martin discretely sweeps it into the bin.

“Right, it might be a good idea to maybe give their face a wipe with a warm cloth or something? Can’t imagine having all that drying on them is very nice for the poor mite.” He holds up the milk carton and bottle. “I could warm this up on the stovetop for them if that’s alright with you?”

“Of, of course. Uh, saucepan’s, saucepan’s just in that cabinet there.” The lamia points out one of the lower cabinets as they snake over the floor towards the bathroom.

Martin bends over to get it and nearly clonks his head on the inside of the cupboard when the lamia’s voice comes, “My-my name’s Jon, by the way. Jonathan Sims.”

“Oh, oh, er, nice to meet you!” He calls back, spotting a work lanyard discarded on the counter by the stovetop that bears the same name and a fancy-sounding workplace.

The lanyard also has He/Him under Jon’s name in slightly smaller font. Martin files that information away carefully as he half-fills the saucepan, places the milk temporarily in Jon’s fridge, and turns on the heat.

“So, you, ah. You placed an order for a cat?” Martin asks as he warms the milk on a low heat.

“Mm.” Jon’s voice sounds distracted over the sound of running water. “You’re being very good now, aren’t you? Just need to get under your eyes here…”

“How, um. How come you didn’t go to a shelter? There are some pretty good ones nearby…”

The resulting silence has one of Martin’s ears flicking nervously.

“…Didn’t want to run into someone I knew there.” He thinks he picks up over the water. “Besides, I spoke with a representative of the Rescue Center on the phone, and their website was very comprehensive.”

Martin tilts his head, watching the pot. “Oh? Think you could contact them again then? See if the, uh, cat has any special care needs?”

A mutter that’s too quiet for Martin to hear even as the water’s turned off is his only response.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I said the number’s been disconnected.” Jon’s voice comes from directly behind him, making him jump. “And the website url keeps bringing up a page saying ‘it doesn’t exist’ or what have you, which is ridiculous, because it was just there yesterday—!”

Ah. He got scammed then.

Martin switches off the heat before the milk starts to steam, moving it to another hob to let it cool a bit before pouring it into the bottle.

Jon is behind him, the creature bundled into his arms. It’s blinking at him sleepily, sclera slightly pink. It looks…a little bit better? Martin really can’t tell.

Martin attaches the nib to the bottle, and after testing the temperature, holds it out to Jon. “Um. Do you want to…?”

The lamia’s face is briefly consumed by wild-eyed panic, before a superior expression covers it and he turns up his nose. “Not all of us are mammals, you know.”

Martin draws his hand back, mildly stung. “Hey.”

“No, I mean.” He groans, drawing a hand down his face, before peering up at Martin over his glasses. “I wish I could say I’m better when I’m more awake, but I’ve been reliably informed I’m not. I apologize. I meant that I don’t…have any experience, in this style of feeding. Is there. Is there some trick to it?”

Martin, damn him, melts despite himself. If questioned on his quick capitulation later, he’s going to blame it on sleep-deprivation. “Not, not really? If you don’t feel comfortable, I could always show you…?”

Jon and the creature almost appear to exchange glances for a moment.

Jon slides closer and, with an incredibly reluctant expression, holds the creature out. “Just. Mind you’re careful with them. They’re, they’re delicate.”

Martin takes them carefully, giving Jon a reassuring smile. He tries to pretend he’s treating one of the animals at the shelter instead of…whatever this is. “Hello, you. Are you hungry?”

The creature watches him, suspiciously.

But when he holds the bottle close to their mouth, they latch onto the nib with surprising gusto, sucking down the warm milk greedily. One of their forelegs even comes up to clumsily grasp at the bottle.

“Easy!” Martin chides, chuckling quietly. “It’s not going anywhere, duck, you can take your time.”

“I am not,” Jon objects, slithering closer. “Calling them that. It’d be ridiculous to own a cat named Duck.”

“Why not?” Martin teases, head feeling foggy with exhaustion. “S a good name, Duck. Could call them Robber instead. Robber of Sleep, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

The creature says nothing, just keeps emptying the bottle, eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t be mean.” Jon’s pouting outright now. It’s just as unfairly adorable as it was before. “…Do you want to sit down? You look…”

“Thanks,” Martin yawns agreeably, too tired to even question when Jon leads him over to a cushioned, circular structure with an odd, canopy-like overhang made of wood and a pair of quilts.

It won’t dawn on him ‘til later that this is most likely Jon’s bed.

In the moment he keeps watch as the creature gradually empties the bottle, eyes drifting slowly but surely closed as Jon pulls himself up onto the structure behind him.

“I could, ah.” He murmurs, trying to twist around to face Jon under some vague idea that not doing so would be impolite. “My work at the shelter has a book. Big book, on all sorts of animals and their diseases and mutations and care and stuff. I could take a look at it f’you. If you like.”

Jon’s eyes glint in the dark behind his glasses. “S please. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Martin huffs a soft laugh as he puts down the empty bottle, shifting the creature up to his shoulder to prepare to burp them, rubbing their back gently. “No trouble. Happy to help.”

He’ll just close his eyes for a moment, he tells himself. Just a moment, and then he’ll make his excuses and go. Just a moment…

Martin wakes up a little too warm and comfortable, with the creature snuffling softly on his chest, Jon’s head pillowed on his shoulder, and his not-inconsiderable tail tangled up with Martin’s legs.

He is also thirty minutes from being very late for work, if his cheap plastic watch is any indication.

The easy part is moving the creature off his chest onto Jon’s, and gently shifting Jon’s head off his shoulder onto a pillow.

The difficult bit is attempting to untangle Jon’s tail from his legs. Particularly since it keeps tightening to keep him in place, like a python around its prey.

He ends up toppling off what he’s realizing to his own mental panic is obviously a bed (extremely handsome Jon’s bed!!!) in his attempts to free himself. Somehow this clatter doesn’t wake the two occupants.

He then wastes time dithering over whether he should leave Jon a note, then over what he should write the note on, then over the fact that for all his neatness Jon somehow doesn’t have a table or any chairs, and ends up leaned over the countertop scribbling his phone number on the back of an instructional pamphlet called ‘Your Cat Friend And You’, along with instructions on how to make the creature more warm milk and some reassurance about how he’ll be back later but call if there are any problems, any at all!

It isn’t until he’s fled Jon’s apartment, grabbed his own bag, and is on the bus towards the shelter than he realizes that he signed the note, love, Martin.

This time he doesn’t hold back from attempting to brain himself on the bus’s safety pole.

His boss at the shelter is a lovely orc, who’s extremely understanding about his flailing attempts to explain that someone came to him with an animal emergency, which is why he hasn’t showered or changed clothes from yesterday. She even offers him paid leave, if he wants it.

That makes him feel even worse, if anything, because she is a genuinely good, lovely person and Martin always ends up feeling a bit like a heel whenever he can’t quite live up to that himself or leaves her in the lurch. Part of his brain (one that sounds a lot like his mum, if he’s honest with himself) whispers that she’s genuine in a way that he can never hope to be.

Still. He waves off her offer, places himself on feeding and cleaning duty to make up for the trouble he’s caused, and only allows himself to ask to look at the office encyclopedia once.

She agrees, of course.

Martin pours over the book on his break, an extra strong cup of tea at his elbow to help make up for skipping his morning dose of caffeine, trying to place what on earth kind of creature is in Jon’s apartment.

It’s an excellent encyclopedia, with glossy, high-definition photographs of various animals accompanying through descriptions of their habits, health, and care.

The creature is probably a mammal, as it was warm and has no feathers, scales, or exoskeleton. It’s not hairy enough to be any kind of bear, and didn’t have any claws, ruling out many other predators of that type. It has no hooves, so it’s not an ungulate. It’s teeth are too dull to be a raccoon, koala, or a badger. It’s too big to be a naked mole rat, a mouse or a pooka. The ends of its hind-legs are the wrong shape for chimpanzees, bonobos, gorillas, or any other kind of ape, though Martin feels that these are probably the closest.

It certainly isn’t any sort of cat, domestic or otherwise.

He gives a small groan, munching on the rich tea biscuits that serve as his lunch. He’s almost starting to think it’s not here, that Jon was somehow scammed into taking some sort of—of alien under his wing.

There is one last entry, right at the back of the book.

It’s the only one without any photographs, instead using an artist’s rendition of the animal described in the text on the opposite page.

It looks fearsome, regardless. A bear’s feet and an ape’s hands, chest like an orc and legs like a tengu, a merperson’s head filled with a raccoon’s teeth and a cow’s eyes, downed all over with thin, fine hairs.

Humans, Martin reads, were apex predators at one point in time before their extinction, specializing in endurance and tool crafting to catch their prey. Due to their ability to adapt nigh-impenetrable defenses against their predators, their species bred like wildfire, causing an overpopulation crisis that nearly took the planet down with them.

These animals were highly dangerous, the book says. While extinct, any potential resurgence of their species is a matter of international concern.

Martin shudders and begins flicking back through the book, trying to find a more likely candidate.

After all, what’s the likelihood of one of those turning up in this day and age?

[baggebythesea]

So your glitra kid is essentially Glimmer from You Even Taste Like Glitter

even brattier, if you can believe it :-) Glimmer from Even taste like glitter still has a dead dad to deal with. My hypothetical Glitra kid grew up ferociously protected and unconditionally loved by two moms with mommie issues they are super scared of passing on.

but as a contrasting idea, i still like the idea of them being polite, demure and rather shy - on the surface at least - just because of how much that would worry glimmer and catra.

[ginanosakka]

You’re Wrong

Masterlist

The Scars You Hide | Next

You tried to focus on the words of the textbook in front of you, but after an hour of studying, it was becoming hard to care about what stops you from flying out of a car when you turn and how to create a math equation out of it. It didn’t help that it was late in the night that you finally found time to study, your mother dragging you out on a shopping spree where you were forced to smile and nod at whatever she wanted you to wear.

‘I don’t understand why everyone likes shopping so much,’ your thoughts ran off as you looked at the new clothes that laid in the bags sprawled across the floor for your maid, Jun, to put up while you were at school tomorrow morning.

When your phone dinged you jumped at the sound, but before you could even check what the message was and who sent it, something hard smacked against your window. With your unchecked phone in hand, you crept towards the window, cursing your parents for giving you the room on the first floor of your enormous home. Pulling the curtains gently as if whatever had come knocking wouldn’t notice you, you peeked outside and immediately let out a breath of relief.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered after throwing your window open and pushing your curtains to the side.

Katsuki stood outside your home, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants paired with those combat boots he seemed to love more than life. He looked nuts, and maybe he was if he decided to jump your gate and throw things at your window, but the look on his face told you that this wasn’t a time to give him shit on his matching skills.

“Just let me in, dork.” He grunted, and you complied silently by stepping to the side.

That was the first night of many nights when Katsuki couldn’t bare to be alone with his thoughts and came to you to fill in the silence with nonsense. He’d let you complain about your mother, your father, and your maid with only short responses and noises of acknowledgment. When he’d finally jump back out your window at an absurd time, something you worried about since Mina told you how he had a set bedtime for himself, you’d lay in bed with your heart full until you could finally sleep.

Maybe it was how much you talked and complained about your superficial problems. . maybe that’s why everyone hated you.

“You have to talk to her!” Mina huffed, tailing behind Katsuki on his patrol, both of them on duty protecting the city.

Obviously, Mina was more worried about rekindling a fire that was never truthfully lit than stopping a mugger.

Katsuki was doing his best not to shout at her, after the restaurant incident, he’d been forced to do damage control on his image. The reports wasted no time making a story out of it, calling him a temperamental monster for yelling at you. When he watched the video back on a popular tabloid site, Katsuki couldn’t help but agree as he saw the look in your eyes. Still, that was probably nothing to how you looked when he walked away all those years ago, but it’s not like he looked back then.

All it took was meeting you again for you to start taking over his life again, not only conquering his media image in hours, but also his mind with all the hypotheticals. It was hard for Katsuki to see himself as a father, but he’d been one for six years without even knowing. He wondered what your son looked like now and how he acted. Did he have a short temper? Does he even have a quirk?

That was another thing that bothered him; the fact that he didn’t feel any emotions about whether or not his child was quirkless. His whole life he saw people without quirks as weak — he couldn’t count the times he mentioned you being quirkless, let alone Deku — but it was like he couldn’t draw any anger or disappointment at the thought of his son being perfectly average. After looking at that picture, all he wanted to do was get to know his own flesh and blood, and he was still pissed that you took that away from him.

“I don’t want to talk to her and I never will. I’ll take her to court to get my kid if I have to, but I want nothing to do with some spoiled princess.” Katsuki spat, and Mina was beginning to get fed up with how he refused to listen.

She snatched him by the arm, forcing him to turn around and look at her. Even now Katsuki’s glares still sent a shiver down her spine, but she was much more frustrated than scared right now. His red eyes went against her black and yellow ones, neither of them being acknowledged by bystanders who moved around them on the assumption that this was just two heroes discussing something they had no business listening to. That was only kind of correct.

“Her dad threw her out when he found out! She had no one but herself, Katsuki! . . . I don’t even know how she’s surviving, and by talking to her and helping her, you’ll be helping Ryu.”

Katsuki’s glare melted at the last word she spoke and he found himself whispering, “his name is Ryu.”

The tension had vanished into thin air at the mention of his son’s name, the warmth that engulfed his body not being one he’d ever felt before. He’d never even met the kid and he already had Katsuki wrapped around his finger, and Mina knew it. A grin spread across her face when she realized it, and with that, the first phase of her plan was complete. Neither of you may know it, but the son you two shared could bring you two together.

“How was school?” You asked Ryu as you both walked home from his daycare, the school being a small walk from your cozy home and quite safe due to being in the less populated area of the city.

“Boring,” he snorted and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his displeasure. “No one cares about my quirk because stupid Nora can glitter in the sunlight!”

“Does it matter? You like your quirk, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. . Did you ever get bullied for not having a quirk, mom?” Ryu looked up at you, his big e/c wide and curious for what kind of answer you’d give him.

‘Why do children have to ask tough questions? What happened to why the chicken crossed the road?’ You sweat dropped, and quickly tried to come up with a soft but honest answer.

You didn’t lie to Ryu about things, not even about why he was now your only family, but you didn’t present him hard truths that you didn’t think he was ready for. Basically, you gave a blanket answer; a broad answer that wouldn’t hurt him. He was only five after all, why the hell did a five year old need to know about dishonor and abandonment?

“Well, no,” you started gently. “My dad, your grandfather, kind of made sure that didn’t happen and I didn’t know that I was a thing until I was older.”

Until I met your dad.

You ran a hand through his hair and pulled him closer as you walked, “and now I definitely don’t need a quirk when I have you to protect me, right?”

Ryu smiled a smile so bright that you wondered if he could rival the sun, and it warmed you to the very core. That smile was what you lived for, it was the reason you found yourself and wanted to be better. You couldn’t imagine where’d you’d be right now if he hadn’t changed your whole world, the thought of living in your father’s shadow being unthinkable now. You’d trump him, you’d trump his entire company, and you’d trump everyone who used you.

‘I’m strong because of you.’

“Of course, I’m your hero!” Ryu cheered.

“That’s right,” you chuckled.

You came up on your house, and the smile and warmth you once had was taken from you so suddenly that you stopped in your tracks a few feet away from your door. Ryu gasped from beside you and you heard his bag drop to the floor, but you knew his shock was the complete opposite of yours. Both of you were looking at the tall blonde man that stood in front of your door, leaning against it staring into space until he heard the bag drop. His red eyes fell on the both of us and you stopped breathing, not sure of what to do, or better yet * what he’d do.

“You’re Dynamight!” The first words were spoken by your son, his high pitched voice nearly yelling those words as he took a few steps forward.

You watched Katsuki’s reaction carefully, trying to prepare yourself to get Ryu away from him if he even so much as snapped at him. This wasn’t how you wanted them to meet — you didn’t want them to meet at all — and from your last interaction, you weren’t sure if he even wanted to meet Ryu. Yet all you could do was watch for the time being.

Katsuki looked him dead in the eyes, his usual resting bitch face, but there was something soft about it that shocked you. He was in his hero uniform, probably coming straight here from whatever hero work he was doing, and there was no question on who told him your address.

You’d most definitely be strangling a certain pink pixie later.

“Yeah, you’re Ryu, right?” Katsuki said, talking the next few steps towards him and bending down to be his height.

Ryu’s face was out of your sight, but you could imagine he was exploding with happiness. “Yeah! How did you know? Did you come to recruit me for your agency?! Mom, did you know?”

‘If I knew he was coming I would have sent you across the country.’

“I didn’t, but why don't we invite Mr. Dynamight in? He’s probably tired,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah! Come in, we can talk about hero stuff and I can show you my toys!”

Ryu took Katsuki’s hand as you walked past them, brushing Katsuki’s shoulder gently and ignoring how your body yearned to feel that warmth more closely. You unlocked the door and let Ryu lead him in, closing the door behind them and taking off your heels. Both of you were technically still in work attire, yours being business casual while his was. . hero official?

Katsuki was probably unnerved by Ryu’s talkative nature, but you simply went to the kitchen like you usually did when you got home and rummaged the cabinets for your tea. As long as they were both in close range, you could take a second to pull yourself together so you don’t throw your child’s idol and father out of your home if he so much as breathes in a way you didn’t like. If you were to act out now, you’d really have to sit down with the boy, and if you weren’t ready for them to meet, you certainly weren’t ready for that.

Your tea kettle didn’t even get to whistle before you took it off the stove, pouring the piping hot water into a cup with your tea and adding the sugar. The noise had died down in the living room where you could hear Ryu tell Katsuki all he knew about him — which was a lot — and you were staring to become concerned that Bakugou had possibly said something that hurt his feelings or kidnapped your child, but those theories were put to rest when footsteps came into the kitchen.

“He talks as much as you did.” Those words affected you more than you’d like to admit, not expecting him to want to make any connections between you and the son you both shared.

“He’s my son,” you stated the obvious. Turning around to face him with your tea in hand, taking a small sip of the burning hot liquid as you gazed at him with cold eyes.

Katsuki didn’t know what else to say, he had no plan for what he’d do once he got here, only getting your address from Mina and refusing to ask for advice. He had never walked on eggshells with someone before, it was usually everyone else trying not to piss him off. He didn’t know if he was scared of you, or how wrong he was about you. He didn’t have a clue that you were living a normal life, and once he came across your house in such a small neighborhood without gates and security, he felt even more guilty about yelling at you in that restaurant.

“When I told you to tell me when you’re ready to meet him, I didn’t mean just show up at my house.” You said, and as calm as it sounded, he could tell that you were picking your words wisely. She obviously didn’t want Ryu to know who he was yet, and he didn’t think he wanted to either with how happy the kid was to see him as his idol.

How would he see him if he knew he was his dad?

“How did you do it? . . I mean, what do you do now?” Katsuki asked, choosing to ignore your initial statement and get the answers he was seeking.

You were getting tired of being questioned, but this is what you get for reaching out. “If you’re asking how I’m able to take care of us, it’s because I started my own business with the money I had saved up. Next question,” you answered casually as you continued sipping your tea.

“. . Why did you tell me now?”

He noticed that question seemed to break your composure, your cold and aloof expression turned sorrowful and your eyes stayed glued to your cup. Katsuki didn’t understand why he felt his stomach drop at the sight of it, but he blamed it on the guilt he already felt.

“Ryu started asking about you more. . and I thought maybe it was because I wasn’t spending enough time with him. . but the more time we spent together the more questions he’d ask about you. I had to face the facts that I can’t play the part of mom and dad, and he deserved to meet his real dad even if we never get along. He deserved to get to make his own impression of you,” you admitted.

Katsuki was once again speechless, but the spotlight was quickly torn off of him.

“He’s my dad?”

A/N: Annnnd we have a new chapter! I hope you enjoy, and thank you all for all the love on this book 🥺! I appreciate all the comments and revolves so much! Muah!

Taglist <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @damnirina @fireworkemoji102 @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @ladybeautiful18 @vintage-teddyxo @mirakeul @regalmigraine

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Day 7: Free Day / AUs - Lies

To her left was Jade, and to her right was Crowley. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

Awkward “family” dinner time~

jnjadaafiabasd I was not built to do timed prompts... Everything felt rushed or not fully proofread, but I tried my best with what little time I had! 🎉 This last week was a bit of a struggle, but I’m proud of myself for pulling through in the end!

A flurry of footsteps reverberated through the Crowley household. Raven hurtled down a stairwell and practically threw herself at the front door, flinging it open. Beyond the door, a masked man and his suitcases awaited.

“Uncle!! You’re back!!” she cried breathily—tired from the dash from the attic to the front porch.

“Hohoh.” Crowley lowered the golden key in his hand. “You’ve beaten me to the punch, it seems.”

“It helps when I’ve got a big window to spy from.” Raven grimaced as talons wove themselves into her hair and raked along her scalp. Her head was left a mess, hair sticking up at odd angles. “How was your trip?”

“There will be plenty of time for stories—you do so love those, don’t you? Just give me a moment to get settled back and have a bite first, little black bird.”

“Okay!” Raven chirped. She eagerly reached for a suitcase. “Here, I’ll he—”

“Please, allow me.”

Her fingers met only air, for the suitcase was snatched up before she could make contact. The other was claimed just as quickly, ending up in the hands of a slimy, smiling eel.

“... Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster.” Jade lowered his head in mock deference. “It is a pleasure to have you back with us. I do hope your conference fared well.”

Crowley’s mouth tightened into a straight line. “You’ll not hear a single peep from me!”

“My, my. You’ve entrusted me with handling your home and your niece in your absence, but not with casual conversation? Truly, I am hurt.”

(Raven shot Jade a warning look, but it went ignored.)

“Leave my bags, and leave us be. Your services are no longer required,” the headmaster crowed. He dug into his pockets and produced a (wrinkled) checkbook and gold-plated fountain pen. “Name your price.”

“I believe that is a value that would be best negotiated with Azul—but worry not, I am not personally interested in your madol.”

... That’s obviously a sketchy thing to say, especially for Octavinelle. They always collect what they’re owed, Raven noted. What does he have up his sleeve now?

Jade’s shoulders suddenly sagged, and a sad smile made its way onto his face. “It is a shame, though... to be chased out before I was able to share my cooking with our esteemed headmaster. It brings a tear to my eye.”

Crowley’s ears perked up—while Raven’s stomach sank.

“Cooking, you say?”

“U-Uncle, don’t fall for it...! He’s baiting you!!” Raven hissed, tugging harshly on his cape.

“I had plans to prepare an extravagant feast, too,” Jade continued, “to welcome you home. A hearty wild game stew, garnished with garden herbs. Fresh baked bread, with a thick crust, perfect for mopping up excess stew. Braised duck in a bright citrus sauce, so succulent and tender that the meat falls off at the bone. Mint gelée on the side—”

“I’m listening...” Crowley’s beady eyes narrowed with vague suspicion. “And just how much would this hypothetical feast cost me?”

“Don’t listen to him, Uncle!!”

“Fufu. There is no need to concern yourself with such trivial matters. Consider it a gift from myself to you.”

“UNCLE!!” Raven screeched—but her frantic calls no longer reached him.

The headmaster was far gone, lured to the water’s edge by a siren’s song. Plastering a wide grin on his face, Crowley spread his arms.

“Jade Leech-kun, why don’t you join us for dinner?”

Raven slowly lowered her face into her hands.

To her left was Jade, and to her right was Crowley. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

Raven glared into her platter of food, refusing to look at either of them. She poked at a slab of meat with her fork, watching the shine of fat dance. Did that glisten belong to a tasteless poison, or to a savory glaze?

Well, the other meals he prepared were safe. This should be fine too... right? Raven carefully inserted a corner into her mouth and tore off a chunk.

Crowley let out a delighted laugh from his seat. “Delicious! Simply delicious!! You’ve outdone yourself with this meal.”

“I am glad to hear that you enjoy it, headmaster.” Jade was handling his silverware a little too deftly for Raven’s liking, driving a knife into his steak with the skill and precision of a predator digging its teeth into vital arteries. And still, that polite smile remained.

She stared—and it did not go unnoticed.

While the headmaster continued to gush, Jade lifted his eyes to meet Raven’s. His smile turned decidedly less kind for a few moments, taunting her. How easily he had infiltrated the home and gotten her guardian wrapped around his finger. It was maddening.

“Miss Raven, you haven’t touched your food,” Jade pointed out.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I am merely advising that you look after your own health and wellbeing,” Jade insisted. “And to think you were so eager to consume my cooking when it was just the two of us...”

“Sh-Shut up...!! I... I can’t help that I’m not used to unwanted guests at the table!”

“Now, now, Raven-kun!” Crowley waved his fork at his niece. “Jade Leech-kun has provided a number of useful services during my absence. We should be more grateful to to have such a helpful young man with us!”

“Do I need to remind you that this same ‘helpful’ young man also ‘helped’ Azul enslave over 200 students?”

“That was then, this is now!”

... You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Yes, I do believe the headmaster is correct. Let us leave the past in the past.”

“As soon as you leave, I’ll gladly purge the events of last week from my mind.” Raven turned to Crowley. “Uncle! I’m no longer a child. The next time you need to leave, you needn’t call for a babysitter��I can take care of myself!”

“Hmm...” The headmaster glanced helplessly between his half-eaten dinner and his niece’s pleasing eyes. “We shall see what comes, given the circumstances.”

Raven sighed—still not fully satisfied with the answer, but unable to wean anything better out of him.

She jabbed her fork into a cherry tomato and chomped down hard on it. Her fangs pierced the red skin, sending some juice squirting onto her cheek. Raven wiped at it with a napkin, then continued to angrily munch on the tomato to vent her frustration.

The clinking of silverware filled the dining room. The air, stiff as stale bread. Crowley coughed—attempting to alleviate the tense atmosphere, but to little success.

“So,” the headmaster began, “did anything interesting happen while I was at the conference?”

“... We argued a lot,” Raven replied flatly. She tactfully left out several details, knowing that she would turn as red as the cherry tomato if she elaborated.

“I did learn quite a few interesting facts during my stay.”

Crowley glanced up from his plate, arching an eyebrow at the eel. “Such as...?”

“Oh, a great many things. For example, how a glittering object catches Miss Raven’s eye, the messiness of her quarters, her midnight musings, the odd manner in which she sleeps...”

Crowley (who had been peacefully inhaling his dinner up until that point) almost choked on a piece of bread. “E-EXCUSE ME?! I don’t recall granting you permission to enter the attic—”

“Wait, you didn’t?” Raven’s brows furrowed. “Then why...”

... Oh.

Another lie.

All along, it had been a lie.

Crowley’s panic, Raven’s confusion—neither seemed to faze Jade. He simply smiled, as collected as ever. Like he had planned this all along, she realized.

“I’m afraid that Miss Raven allowed me in of her own accord. Fufu. I am pleased that she has grown to trust my presence within her private quarters.”

“Is this true, Raven-kun?!”

“Er...” She shrunk back into her seat, wishing she could vanish into her feathered shawl. “I-It was an honest mistake... I didn’t mean to...”

“You know better than that, young lady!!” Crowley chided. “How many times must I warn you to keep shady characters out of your room?!”

“But Jade said--”

“Headmaster, you cannot blame her entirely,” the eel cut in smoothly. “Part of the fault lies with me, as well.”

He’s... confessing? That’s weird.

“I had to deliver her meal, since she refused to eat at the dining room table. Once I saw the state that the attic was in, I sought to return in the subsequent days to assist with cleaning it up. There were also times when I came to check in on Miss Raven, as she has a habit of staying up late into the night. They were all measures I took to ensure her health and comfort, at the cost of breaking a rule--and for that, I must apologize.”

“Oh?” Crowley rested his chin in a taloned hand. “Rule breaking aside, I must commend you for taking action. Putting others’ wellbeing above your own... Perhaps I initially misjudged your character, Jade Leech-kun!”

“I live to serve.”

“How very admirable of you! Yes, yes,” Crowley nodded enthusiastically, “I can rely on such a responsible youth to look after you in the future, Raven-kun!”

“H-Huh? No, no!! He’s definitely still every bit as shady as you thought he was!!” she protested, leaping to her feet and thrusting an accusing finger at Jade. “He’s just lying again...!! He always lies!!”

“Oya, Miss Raven... It’s not healthy for you to become so worked up.” Jade hid his mouth behind his hand--no doubt that his teeth would otherwise be on full display in a cruel grin. “Here, have some more mashed potatoes--I’ve infused them with garlic. This should help temper your blood pressure.”

“I don’t want your stupid mashed potatoes...!!”

Oblivious to the tension in the room, Crowley lifted his glass up and laughed. “Hohoh! It’s nice to see Raven-kun socializing with her peers.”

[motownfiction]

elenore and will

we love asks with o'connors in them. i believe in o'connor family supremacy.

for ✨elenore✨

1. their favourite disney/pixar movie: sleeping beauty (i know)

2. their go-to style of clothing: colorful. if it has glitter, she's there.

3. their favourite vacation memory: going on a road trip to MI from NYC and teaching veronica about "gas station rock" and other fictional micro-genres of music that sam made up

4. their favourite fairy tale: also "sleeping beauty" lol

5. one hidden talent of theirs: elenore knows all of the essential tap dances, like the boogie, the waltz clog, the charleston, the time step, and the triple buck.

6. one thing they’ve kept since childhood days: her first princess leia action figure

7. their favourite holiday memory: veronica's first christmas. she was just so cute, so excited, so in love with all the lights. christmas had been shitty for elenore since 2002, but veronica made it OK to like christmas again.

8. their first crush: ... charlie.

9. something they would never admit to anybody: there are nights when she stays up too late and wishes that veronica was her husband sean's daughter instead of charlie's. she knows she's not supposed to say that, and in reality, she doesn't even really mean it. veronica wouldn't be veronica if she were anyone else's child. but sometimes, she wishes she had a kid with sean instead.

10. their favourite wild animal: elenore is one of these people who loves cartoon llamas.

for ✨will✨

1. their favourite disney/pixar movie: i think when he was growing up, he liked the jungle book, but when he took emma (then age seven) to see lilo and stitch, he loved it.

2. their go-to style of clothing: god, i hate to say this, but as a young person (and kind of as he gets older, too), will is trying really hard to look like matt dillon. failing, a little. but trying.

3. their favourite vacation memory: climbing the sleeping bear dunes with lucy and the girls in the late 00s, a little while after veronica was born. it was tough, but they had a good time.

4. their favourite fairy tale: will likes "cinderella." this is where the hypothetical (and incorrect) will/sadie shippers would freak out.

5. one hidden talent of theirs: will taught himself how to say the alphabet backwards. not because he thought he'd ever need it in a drunk driving incident. but just to say he could.

6. one thing they’ve kept since childhood days: the tin cans that he once used to communicate with lucy from her house next door.

7. their favourite holiday memory: playing with toy lightsabers on christmas in 2015 with elenore, emma, and veronica while lucy filmed and took pictures on her phone. will had never felt so much love in one place before. christmas had, of course, been shitty since 2002. but this was like a sign that it was ok to move on -- to associate christmas with things other than sam.

8. their first crush: marcia brady on the brady bunch. but then lucy, lol

9. something they would never admit to anybody: he's admitted this to a therapist, but never to anyone in his day-to-day life: he knows that sam had a crush on him when they were very young.

10. their favourite wild animal: will likes tigers.

[shelly-ya]

MERRY HUMBUG...

This one is for the holiday season. We are back on the Polar Tang and the crew is trying to convince their captain and you to celebrate Christmas. You read correctly convince you as well.

"OH man Senchō would not celebrate the holidays" one crew member whispered to themselves in the mess hall of the Polar Tang.

"You got that right he is easily the worse person to ask to decorate and celebrate" another member of the crew stated.

"Hey I know why don't we ask name to convince Senchō to celebrate the holidays." Clione jumped up with a light bulb moment.

"What are you guys doing?" The crew spun around at the voice of Shachi. Seeing both Shach and Penguin walking into the mess hall.

"OH we were just trying to find a way to get Senchō to celebrate the holidays with us."

"So we decided to ask name to ask him for us" Clione said putting his idea forward.

"No that won't work for us this time" Penguin stated.

"Yeah that will be like pulling teeth out of a shark's mouth" Shachi stated crossing his arms n front of him.

"No way. Our name hates the holidays?" One crew member asked

"Call them scrooge or grinch but that is what they become during the holidays" Shachi stated.

"What is more terrible is although we are from the icy North Blue they hate the cold." Penguin stated.

"Yeah they will twist their face in disgust at the mere mention of the holidays." Shachi stated.

"Let's see. Law would say we are pirates we are literally on holidays. And Name would say it's too damn cold and there is too much damn glitter" penguin trying to guess what his peers would say being proposed with the idea of Christmas and decorating. Bepo standing behind them both.

"True true" Shachi said folding his arms.

"Well since you already guessed what we are going to say why are you still discussing it" The crew heard the voice of their captain in the doorway leaning on the frame arms folded kikoku glued to his side and smirk ever present next to him was name or something looking like name wrapped from head to toe in a blanket only their eyes showing.

"Gah Senchō please don't do that." Penguin almost yelled. "What's wrong with you name?"

"It's to frigging cold" you yelled out.

" see what did just say" penguin stated pointing at you.

"I think it needs to be colder" bepo stated from his place you both. You slowly turned towards him.

"You're kidding right?" You stated

"Nope" he answered you hypothetical question.

"Look before you ask fine you guys can have your holiday celebration." Law said without batting an eye. Everyone looked at him in shocked

"What???!!!!!!" Was the high pitched scream of every crew member in the mess hall.

"You have a fever right? Are you ok?" Shachi asked unbelieving

"I'll get the crash cart hang on" Penguin stated.

"No need we already had a meeting as being the heads of this ship." Bepo said puffing his fluffy chest out. "We want you all to have fun and enjoy yourselves we are a family and if the family wants to do this collectively then we will."

"Everybody is gonna ignore how Bepo just puffed his chest out when he said he was one of the leaders of the ship?" Clione asked

"I'm sorry" he stated hanging his head down.

"Stop apologizing" the crew yelled

"I'm really sorry" he sank into more misery.

"So we are just gonna stand here and not prep for Christmas?" Shachi was the one who brought the group back to reality.

"Yeah" Everyone yelled pumping their fists into the air. Before long the Polar Tang was being decorated and the smell of Christmas dinner and goodies were in the air. The smell of ginger bread, cinnamon rolls, cakes, with various meats and other delicacies. The cheery sound of laughter and singing from the crew.

"Anyone seen name around here?" Uni asked "got them a cup of hot chocolate and cookies"

"I think they are in their room." Another random crew member stated.

"Well you know how they hate the holidays" Clione stated.

"I'll take it to them" Law said coming up behind Uni.

"Sure thing captain" Uni said handing him the plate filled with various cookies and a mug of hot chocolate on a tray.

"Alright guys get back to work this dinner is not gonna finish itself." Law said taking the tray and heading to your room. He heard the crew respond to him with their usual Aye Aye captain and continued on with their holiday celebrations.

He came up to your door *knock knock* "Name I am coming in" he said opening the door and walking in without a care. Dodging a pillow being used as a projectile. "What I knocked this time" he said putting the tray on the side table. Sitting on the edge of your bed looking at your covered feature. You have covered yourself from head to toe looking like you were hunched over. "I don't know how someone who grew up in an icy cold place hate the cold." He said sighing. "Come celebrate with them"

"Bah Humbug" you stated pulling your blanket fort tighter around you.

"OK scrooge but I will be eating these cookies and drinking this hot chocolate myself then" he said pointing to the tray. " why is it that every year I have to baby you like this" he said

"I baby you every day since we were kids you dumb dumb" you almost yelled. This room was your sanctuary, your home. You spoke to each other freely here without the worry of anyone judging the fact you both were so relaxed and jabbing at each other. "Besides should we really celebrate?" You asked him finally lowering the blanket looking him in the eyes. "Wasn't it this time of year or close to it he died?"

"He's dead. We can't do anything about that but just avenge his death." Law said pulling his knees up to his chest. "We have a new family now. The least we can do for them is be the heads of the family. Support them in their celebrations." Taking the mug of chocolate and sipping on the molten sweet goodness warming yourself.

"Well look at that you are the head of reason today" you said moving to lean into his shoulder. "Law everything will be better right? We will get revenge right? He will be proud of us?" You asked.

"Yes, yes and we can only hope so. But we already know he is probably yelling yes you dumb kids I love you and I am proud of you both." Law said staring into nothing.

"Then let's go celebrate" you said standing and stretching. Picking up the cookies and tray with your mug of chocolate you both made your way to the mess hall where you both heard the chatter of the crew and your mouth began to water with the smell of food. "That smells good. Uni and Clione out did themselves." You both stepped into the room.

"MERRY HUMBUG" you yelled

"HUH!!!!!" Was collectively heard in the room. Law sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose

"OH shoot MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS"

"MERRY CHRISTMAS" their voices boomed and the cheer and merriment continued for however long that wanted. Somewhere in the back of Law's mind and heart he knew what he said in the room was true and that he was proud of their little family in a submarine.

Thank you for reading and supporting me. Please do have a wonderful and amazing Christmas and holidays and happy Kwanzaa and happy Hanukkah. Enjoy and be safe this holiday season.

@angelsdevils

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

JATP ROUND TWO FICS!

We received seventeen (17!!!!!) Fics for the Second Round of the JATP TROPED Event! These fics were fluff-filled and super fun, and we loved to see how you all challenged yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners!

Voting will be open until May 14th at 11:59pm EST! Vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BZ3W5FT

Please rank ALL the fics in each question based on the USE of each trope, the theme, the fics overall, and the two bonus polls (best setting + most unique pairing)! Your #1 spot should be the best answer and your last spot the least likely answer for the question. The Best Overall Poll will determine who will be writing in the Final Round! We ask that you please rank EVERY fic, so we can avoid technical difficulties! A reminder that you must include a Tumblr or AO3 username/URL, and you may only vote once, we will NOT count multiple votes by the same person.

————

Okay, Campers, Rise and Shine! (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: When Reggie launches a particularly ill-advised prank war at HGC Ranch, Luke's fully prepared to take it in stride.

When the days start looping, though, he begins to suspect that this might all be a little bit above his head.

In other words, he's at least 78% sure that the time loop isn't a direct result of Reggie's pranks.

Maybe 77%.

Oh, well.

At least he's not in it alone.

(The Groundhog Day meets Gravity Falls meets Summer Camp meets The Author's Own Distaste For Prank Wars AU that no one asked for. Ever. At all.)

Starting To Forget (Just What Summer Ever Meant To You) (Not Rated) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Last summer didn't end on a positive note for Carrie Wilson - she and her girlfriend broke up on the last night of camp, and she's been miserable since. But it seems that the universe is intent on having her fix that this summer. Even if that means she has to live through the same day over and over and over again until she does.

Creative B.S. Was No More, Was No Less (Look Around, You're Gonna Miss What You Found) (Rated T) [Alex x Luke, Flynn x Reggie]

Summary: The midnight men move again

Don't know when

Best friends forever

In trouble again

Here's to you, here's to me

Over the rafters and we're free

--- Over the Rafters, Rick Schiffman

***

Alex and Luke go undercover on a mission to a summer camp in order to find a talisman that could endanger the camp and all the kids. While there, they bond with the kids and make peace with the fact that they broke up.

While Alex and Luke are away, Flynn accidentally fucks with time.

bitch but like romantically (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: The dining hall’s exactly the same as it has been for two mornings now, and Flynn doesn’t hesitate to poke Willie twice on the nose and whisper “pancake” on her way past their seat.

His eyes widen and he whips his head around to follow them, excitement glimmering in their eyes.

“Really?” they blurt. Flynn rolls her eyes and nods.

~

or: flynn gets stuck in a time loop. {for troped jatp round 2}

down by the bay (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: Over time, Camp Phantom has simply become known as a selective summer camp: one that took only the kids that Caleb saw promise in. And Caleb wasn’t exactly lying. He really did take only the ones he saw promise in, he simply looked for different traits than others might.

For example, say, hypothetically, a boy who could see the future. Or, hypothetically, a girl who could interact with ghosts. Or, hypothetically, a boy who could summon objects to him with a simple thought. Or, and this is completely hypothetical mind you, a boy who could manipulate time.

Those might be some traits that Caleb saw promise in. Just, like, as examples.

Time will tell (But only if you do it right) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Carrie had been acting a little off for a week or so, but Flynn was pretty much known for seeing something in nothing, and that was probably what they were doing then. If something was going on, Carrie would tell her eventually.

OR

Who knew all it took was a little bit of miscommunication to mess up time itself?

and so it begins (Rated T) [Bobby x Reggie]

Summary: It’s the first day of their second week at Camp Carolling (they’re spending an entire month, and they’re getting paid to be there!) when Reggie gets a little lost in the woods. During this misadventure into the woods, he finds an egg shaped rock, an inhabited cabin that may or may not be riddled with signs, and something that might be magic. He probably doesn't get paid enough to discover magic.

or, when they were thirteen years old, four boys met at camp carolling and eventually became a band that almost became something legendary. now, all four boys are coming back as counselors, three boys in one band and one boy in his own solo act.

so begins the reunion, though it doesn't go how any of them imagine.

Porcupine Day (Rated T) [Bobby x Ray x Rose]

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Trevor broke up with Ray and Rose and they’re... not fine, but managing. But when Trevor to adds insult to injury and buys the camp across the lake from the one they once owned together, the two camps become locked in a bitter rivalry. With neither side willing to set aside their pride and work out their issues, the universe decides to settle their fates itself.

Day After Day (After Day After Day) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: When Alex met Willie just after their senior year of high school, they spent a wonderful three months dating before their relationship ended in a blaze of glory. Now, four years later, they meet again as counselors at a summer camp. The only problem? Alex keeps reliving their first day together. The day that Luke had declared "Prank Day."

This is not how Alex pictured his summer going.

clocks move faster (it's all we're after) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie likes it when her friends are happy, so when she realizes she's stuck in a time loop, she uses her knowledge to make sure everything works out for everyone... except she conveniently forgets to factor herself (and Luke) into the mix.

Touch of Magic (Not Rated) [Alex x Luke]

Summary: When everything stands in Luke and Alex’s way of getting to be with the people they love, they have to repeat the day over and over until they can get the happily ever after that they want.

The play's the thing (that goes wrong) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day for Macbeth, but not so for Alex and the production of Hamlet that he is directing and starring in. And while he's stuck repeating the day of the performance over and over, mishaps of all kinds befall the cast.

anything, anything (for another run with you) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: The moment Alex steps foot in Camp Greenwood, he knows that this summer is a bad idea.

He knows it as soon as he sees tan skin, long hair, and a tie-dyed crop top at the check-in table.

Willie.

-

the camp counselor/exes/prank war/time loop fic of your dreams (unless you read all of the other troped round 2 fics lmao)

there’s a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: What comes next happens in slow motion. Luke’s foot catches on the last rung of the ladder. Julie watches as he stumbles a step forward, barely catching himself before falling on his face. The ladder clatters to the floor below. The trapdoor, no longer propped open by it, falls closed with a loud thunk, the lock clicking into place. They’re stuck.

“Luke!” she exclaims loudly. “Look what you did!” Julie drops to her knees in front of the trap door, desperately trying to fit her fingers between the wood and the stone to pry it open again. Of course it doesn’t work.

“What?” he snaps back. “I wouldn’t be up here in the first place if it weren’t for you trying to fuck us over.”

or: ex-best friends Luke and Julie, working as camp counselors at rivaling camps, find themselves stuck in a time loop

the daughter of apollo (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: (the JATP x Camp Half Blood AU that nobody asked for)

maybe the world isn't ending (maybe it's been postponed) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Alex runs his fingers through Willie’s hair. “I think it’s best to just leave them to their own prank war at this point. Let’s not forget that time Julie put hot sauce in the coffee pot and my mouth was on fire for an entire hour.”

“You’re exaggerating, Alex-”

“I most certainly am not,” Alex cuts Reggie off.

“Or how about the time Luke tried to put glitter in Julie’s bed,” Carrie joins in, “but got my bed instead? I can appreciate some glitter, but even I know when enough is enough.”

“Suffice it to say,” Willie finishes after they’ve passed around a dozen or so more memories of pranks from the summer, “we’re all done being your collateral damage. Whatever Julie has planned for you tomorrow, Luke, you’re on your own.”

-

It's the last day of camp and Julie has one more prank planned for Luke. He just doesn't know what it is.

Here We Go Again (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie blinked as she stared at the place Euterpe had disappeared. What did that even mean? What journey? Old places and lost faces? What was she talking about? But before she could dwell on the questions swirling around in her mind, the sky full of stars began to move, shifting in place and descending until they were all around her. Julie felt her feet leave the ground as she rose up and up. One star in particular was burning brighter than the others, growing bigger in front of her.

It grew and grew, until the light was blinding and Julie had to throw a hand up against the harsh light. She closed her eyes as the light surrounded her and then she was falling. Falling down, down, down.

[okamarinosuzoki]

What we deserve (DenNor)

also available on ao3 :)

Lukas frowned when he noticed an unknown pair of shoes in the entrance of his house. It wouldn't have been suspicious if it hadn't been a kid's one. He wondered for a second if Matthias had told him there were having people coming over without being able to remember. Most of the time, when Matthias opened his mouth Lukas shut down his brain, fearing that otherwise he would catch his stupidity.

He opened cautiously the door to the living room, refraining himself from groaning when he saw who was inside. Matthias, obviously, was sat in front of the couch, barefoot, glitters on his face and what seemed to be chocolate ice-cream in his hair. However, the sight of Peter gluing his shoes together, frowning in deep concentration, was unexpected.

As soon as he opened the door, Matthias smiled brightly at him.

“Welcome home!” He exclaimed.

Lukas didn't answer him and turned around. That would explain the panicked call he had received from Tino and asking if he knew where his son was. After calling his friend to reassure him, he went back to the living room where Peter was asleep (that was fast) and Matthias was trying to tidy the room.

“When I told you we couldn't adopt because you weren't mature enough, I didn't think you were going to kidnap a child to prove I was wrong.”

At least, Matthias looked sheepish.

“That's not kidnapping... More like an uncle-nephew day.”

Lukas sighed and watched the boy sleeping on the couch. They had had this conversation several times but he didn't feel ready to adopt yet. His career took too much time from him and he didn't want to be absent from his hypothetical child's life. He pinched his lips together before speaking.

“We could adopt a dog instead.”

He regretted immediately his words as soon as he spoke them. Matthias's huge smile was scarier than ever.

His life was going to become so complicated.

[abybweisse]

If you accept any family headcanon, this is how I see the Shinigami as parents:

Grell-> The easygoing mum, but still can discipline the kids

Will-> Totally not the kids person. But if he's portrayed as a father. Then quite stern with his sons, but if he does get a daughter? Daddy's princess. No more say. He even will go work in glitter and cute girly stuff.

Ronald-> Has no idea how to raise kids. When they were babies, oh dear. Constant freaking out over baby crying, and having no idea how nappies work XDDD

Othello-> Hm. I don't know. If he does get a kid, then poor kid. Experimented on all hours.

Undertaker-> Kids person. Oh no rules indeed. His kids are very much spoiled rotten. I don't even see him as the type to punish his kids when they're bad. Just like "My child, don't get hurt too much, okay?" And that's it 😅

What do you think?

The only one (parenthood) I can truly get behind is Undertaker, but that’s because we are probably getting the reveal of his relationship to the Phantomhive family within the next few... years. 🗓 👀 �� Anyway, your headcanon for him works well with how I envision him playing with the kids as much as possible but not being the disciplinarian; that would be Cloudia/Claudia... or even Tanaka.... And it was Rachel later being the disciplinarian with the twins, not Vincent. Vincent says the Phantomhive women are strong-willed, and we see it with Frances/Francis, too. However, I get the feeling Undertaker wasn’t always around, or that he was around as much as he could be but wasn’t open about being a relative, let alone the father/grandfather. Because he had to play the eccentric funeral director/informant role pretty much always and distance himself... presumably for their own protection.

The rest of it looks like purely fanfic material. Fun to think about, but I cannot take it too seriously. I have to somewhat agree with your ideas, though. Here’re my thoughts on them:

I know Grelle mentioned wanting kids, during the ripper arc and in the Character Guide, but I don’t know what Grelle would actually be like as a parent... or how those desires might have changed since being punished for killing Madam Red. Don’t forget Grelle lost interest in even having Madam Red around for protecting her own nephew. Grelle might actually let kids get away with waaay too much, honestly. And, if Grelle’s hypothetical children were harmed, Grelle also seems like the sort who would chase the perpetrators down and kill them three times over... while the children were left to bleed out. Like... some of the softer parts of Grelle’s parenting skills might hardly exist; the focus in that moment would be utter destruction of the perps, instead of taking care of the injured children. I’d expect Grelle’s blood lust to rear its ugly head again.

Ronald strikes me as the sort who would either leave the kids to be raised entirely by their mother, even when he’s home... or actually ditch the woman as soon as he finds out she’s pregnant. I have trouble imagining him as the sort who would ever settle down. Reaper female, human female, whatever. He might be more interested in the chase, so to speak.

William I can see as being a more responsible father figure, if he even wants kids. He might be the reluctant sort, but I agree he could be very strict if he had kids... but with both sons and daughters. I don’t see him as the sort who would show up to work wearing glitter from a kid, but I can see him being particularly soft (from time to time) with a daughter. Discipline, yes, but also soft-hearted. Let her glitter him up? Maybe. Wear it to work? No.

Othello? I simply cannot imagine him as a parent at all. I cannot imagine him even wanting children. The only thing to keep him from dissecting (or even vivisecting) it would be strict reaper realm laws against such things... and him being constantly monitored by the RCPS (reaper child protective services). 👀 Good thing I cannot imagine him getting anyone pregnant to begin with.

[taylor-fiction]

Your Selfless Love’s the Only Hoax I Believe In

heya. guess what. so i never really had the inspiration to finish writing the original quarantine fic that i had. so i’m still working on that. however, i did get inspiration from peace and people’s linking between it and hoax and so this happened. it isn’t fully edited, just your basic grammar and spelling that word catches, so if you see any mistakes please let me know so i can fix it, i will definitely do that tomorrow anyway.

anyways, let me know what you think. criticism is always welcomed (if you’re doing it nicely).

~~~

She had accepted, a long time ago, that she would end up alone, maybe have a few long term relationships, but nothing worth sticking around for, not a forever, so when Joe first brought up the subject of marriage, of life together, a forever, a year into their relationship, she freaked out, to put it lightly.

She created a huge fight, whether to prove herself right, to test him, or to prove herself wrong she didn’t know, but he stayed, and he apologized. He came to her, and he hugged her, and he told her he loved her and that he’s sorry for upsetting her if she felt like talking about marriage at this point was taking it too fast. And then, she just knew.

She never had a guy apologize to her, even when one was due. But then again she also never had a guy care about her as much as he did. He loved her, not for the fame, or the money, or her body. He loved her mind, he loved her personality, he loved who she was in private when she allowed herself to be vulnerable and remove the persona everyone knew.

He saw Taylor, the 26-year-old who loved cats and all things glitter, the one who would mumble stuff into her phone at all hours of the day, whose mom was her best friend and always spoke her mind. The person that loved so deeply she often got hurt.

He saw her flaws and loved her for them, not in spite of them.

And she loved him just the same. She loved how ordinary his life was, how he went to university, and had school friends and never gave a second thought to walking down the street to the grocery store. She loved how his mom suggested they take a walk around the park when they first met because there was still time until dinner, not even realizing that such a thing wasn’t possible to Taylor. She loved his brothers and the relationship he had with them. She loved how caring he was and how selfless and kind he is. She loved everything about him. Even things that she always found agitated her with past boyfriends, she didn’t care about them when it was him. Like how he would sometimes speak before swallowing his food, or how he would kiss her in the middle of her sentence, telling her that it was just because, she loved how he sometimes disagreed with her. But he always listened to her, she never had to worry about that, she never had to worry if he loved her, or if he was truthful, because he always was, almost to a fault.

So yeah, maybe she should have seen this coming, but a year in, she didn’t know how things are supposed to be at this point. She only ever got here once previously and she knew for a fact it wasn’t a good reference point, especially with how many times Joe proved her wrong up until now. How he stayed when she tried to break it off when the paparazzi found out about them, how he accepted her with all her baggage, how he never doubted in his mind about her.

She was worried that they were going too fast, but then again, things have never felt more right than when she was with him. So a year in they were talking about marriage, and kids, and life together, and they moved in together. And he was everything she wanted and everything she didn’t know she needed. He was gentle where she was rough, he was quiet where she was loud, he was the complete opposite to her, in a way, but he was also so similar to her.

And then, one day, three years in, she looked over at him and realized she was looking at her forever, and it terrified her. The thought of forever. The weight of it and its meaning. Forever meant accepting that maybe she was wrong, maybe she did deserve to be happy, maybe there was someone out there for her, and he wasn’t just out there, he was right here, lying next to her on the couch watching a movie with their cat on his stomach and his legs tangled with hers, only wearing his boxers looking so soft in the soft light coming in from the hallway.

And she realized that inviting forever into her life also meant letting in pain, and loss, and death. Because forever means till death do us part. It means growing old together and seeing the effect of old age on the person she loved most. It means losing someone you love. It could be tomorrow, it could be at 80. And that realization terrified her.

But this time, she didn’t try to run. She talked to him until the middle of the night, until they were so tired their eyes hurt. She shared her fears and her worries, and he shared them too. And they held each other and calmed each other down and kissed each other and soothed the worries. Because she may not know what tomorrow holds, but she knows that with him she can weather the storm.

So when he proposed, three and a half years in, right when a pandemic was starting to affect them, she guessed she shouldn't have been surprised, because, in a way, it was always coming. It was always a question of when, with him, not if. It was always when is he proposing, when are you getting married, when are you having kids. No one ever asked them if they thought they would get there, because it was a given they would, they were always asked when. And she liked it, she liked how the people around him could see how amazing he was to her, how he was it.

He was there, on one knee, with pizza boxes around him, on a blanket, in the middle of their living room, having an impromptu picnic at home because there’s a shelter-at-home order. His hand was shaking a little, and he had tears in his eyes, and he was telling her how much he loves her and how much she means to him. How he can’t imagine life without her in it. And it wasn’t how he wanted to do it, he said, he had this thing planned, he was going to have her family nearby so they could celebrate, and he was going to set up this nice date for her, somewhere private, just the two of them. And she was laughing, and she had tears in her eyes, and she loved him, so much, because she knew, even though this wasn’t what he planned, it was better than what she could have hoped for. So she bent down, didn’t even let him ask it, and kissed him.

And then he whispered the most beautiful set of words he could have ever uttered, “Will you marry me?”

She doesn't remember saying yes, but she guesses she did because he was sliding the most beautiful ring she has ever seen onto her finger, and he was kissing her, and he showed her how much he loved her, over and over again, all night long.

And she was happy. In the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded them, something that only three years ago would render her an anxious mess, unable to function, she was the happiest she has ever been.

And then, the next day, the realization hit her. And the anxiety. That everything they talked about, the future and the kids and the forever, it wasn’t just some hypothetical, something that they would make happen one day. That one day was here, and she had the ring to prove it.

She didn't realize how deep she had gotten herself, and it scared her. The thought that without noticing she was willing to give him everything. She was willing to work through her fears and insecurities in order to have a child with him. When did that happen? When did he change her mind about what she thought her future held? When did she start thinking about forever with someone else? When did he get her to see that she could have more?

And he came up behind her, not even noticing the panic on her face, simply thinking the silence was from concentrating on the lyrics she had in front of her, and he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and he kissed her temple and whispered “I love you” into her ear, and just like that she was okay. She was still scared, terrified even, but she knew she would be okay with him by her side.

And now here she was, a month short of being 4 years together, with a ring on her finger, planning a wedding with the love of her life, her 8th album, one she wasn’t planning on putting out for a long time but somehow it came about in those few months of quarantine, is out and doing better than she could have dreamed. Here she is with the most cliche thing that can happen to her in lock down. Fucking pregnant.

These last few months they have been a little careless with protection, knowing that kids were something they both wanted. They walked about it, of course, and decided that if it happened, then it happened. And now it did. And she’s terrified. She guesses she shouldn't be surprised, she did miss her period last month, she was feeling constantly nauseous and was a little on the emotional side, even for her.

Life was amazing, in an unexpected, messy kind of way. The kind of way where you're both terrified and excited for tomorrow. Where you both love where your future is heading but also want to fix so much.

And now, looking back on it, the direction her life took these last 4 years shouldn’t have surprised her. She now has a private life, with the love of her life, she's happy, for the first time in her life planning the way the next two years are going to look for her isn't anxiety-inducing, it excites her, it makes her anxious to reach there. It makes her want it to be here already.

Because she would weather all the storms in the world if it means she gets to end the day with his arms wrapped around her, his love surrounding her, and their child, now growing inside her, growing up right in front of her eyes.

[maryellencarter]

So the final cause, if I recall my Aristotle (I was terrible at Aristotelian logic, or at least at what the badly illustrated homeschool textbook said was Aristotelian logic), was that my apartment has been growing irregularly more squalorous for months. Occasionally I would have a bout of energy and put my groceries in the pantry, but for the most part I've been doing well to keep up on the laundry. The proximal cause was... probably the coloring books.

Anyway, this morning I put on pants that were not sweatpants, probably for the first time in months, because going to get vaccinated is a festal occasion and one ought to look one's best. (I put on my cute top with the frilly shoulder straps and the little rosettes, too, since I figured it'd be smart to wear something sleeveless. And my combat boots with the pastel tiedye laces, in case of hiking, which also turned out to be smart. I was decked out.)

So then I went and showed a number of people my ID and my appointment email, and they poked me with a timy needle -- not as small as the one they used in the ER for the insulin that time, I didn't even feel that one, but a very nice thin needle compared to my usual standard of needles, which are the ones they use to try and get blood *out* of you, and often fail when you are me. Then they made me sit down for fifteen minutes in case I took an allergy, and then they gave me a lollipop (I got blue cotton candy, my favorite flavor) and a sticker with a hashtag on it and I left.

Then I got to wend my way back from the place where the vaccinations were happening -- it was a big event on the college campus, since they have a lot of nice big rooms and wide open spaces there -- and it happened I was coming back from a direction I do not usually wend my way from, and I dropped into Michaels. Usually I go to Joann's, because they have fabric, which Michaels doesn't, and Michaels is generally a bit froofier in the sorts of craft supplies they stock at least locally, but the Michaels and the Joann's are right across the street from each other, and I still haven't heard anything about my special order on the floss color that Joann's was out of. Michaels doesn't have the full range of DMC colors, but I took a look and they did in fact have the color I needed.

Then I wandered around some, because Michaels actually does have a bigger yarn selection than Joann's, and I found some Patons Kroy (my absolute favorite sock yarn for feel and texture) in a colorway I didn't loathe, which is *not* something I've been able to find since they stopped making that one colorway with all the orange and black and gray stripes, which I loved dearly and can't remember the name of. So I was like "this will be just the thing for that one lace scarf I was looking at that needs wool yarn in case it has to be blocked to look right", because knitted lace is like that and you can't block acrylic. You can "kill" acrylic but that's different and I'd rather not.

Um. Anyway. Then I wandered around some more, because I get into Michaels so seldom that it's handy to look at what-all they've got while I'm there. Over the past... week or so I have had a sudden bout of wanting to color in coloring books, because that happens to me sometimes; there was an impulse trip to the Walmart way out in the boondocks on the unlit road for Crayola colored pencils, because I decided I was not going to pay eight times as much for Prismacolors.

(The really infuriating thing about coloring books, in my opinion, is that right now you can either find the kiddie newsprint coloring books which are with us always, of course, or you can find "adult coloring books" which are *in-fucking-variably* filled with horses and lions and whales and other large charismatic mammals covered in what look for all the world like quilting patterns. If I wanted to color a rendition of a quilt filled with tiny stripes and polka dots, I'd get some graph paper! And the dots and lines and so forth are so tiny that you can *only* color them with colored pencils, because that's Adulty.)

(Yes, I know they sell coloring pages on Etsy and places. I've been avoiding the print shop for at least a month and a half now, when if I would put the things on my thumb drive and go to it, I could start getting my student loans out of default. I would never wind up printing coloring pages off of Etsy. No, I don't know why. Print shops scare me, perhaps slightly worse than post offices.)

Um. Where was I? So I had gone way far out to the Walmart nobody goes to which therefore often has interesting things in stock, and I had discovered that Crayola still does the glitter crayons I had coveted as a tiny, and they also make double-ended scented markers, which are like the coolest thing ever to the tiny early-nineties child I still am in my heart. So as of this morning, my kitchen counter was completely covered with... things. There was already the sewing machine and the Dr Pepper that doesn't taste like an old shoe, and the peanut butter and the elephant-shaped porcelain wax-warmer, but there had been a narrow slot where I could put a plate and eat my meals -- my only table having been co-opted a year ago by my workstation. Now that slot was filled with various Crayola products and a coloring book with mermaids in it, which at least had a few pages that could be colored partly with markers or crayons, instead of being entirely minced into geometric shapes barely larger than a pencil lead.

SO, what happened after I got vaccinated and found yarn and floss, is that I found out that Crayola still makes the *pearlescent* crayons I coveted even more as a kid. I had gotten one in a little sample pack included with my big 64-box, and it was very precious to me. It's long gone now, of course.

So of course then I bought the pearlescent crayons, and then I bitched at Leia for a while about how I didn't have any coloring books I could use these wonderful crayons *on* unless I wanted to go back to the Lisa Frank newsprint of my youth. (They did actually have Lisa Frank. I strongly considered it. But my tastes have evolved beyond newsprint.)

Then I googled some things, and I found Walmart listing a Crayola mandala coloring book. I went to look for it, and I didn't find it, but I did find a different coloring book with "stained glass" style pictures (sadly not on actual tracing paper, but it occurs to me that if I could source some tracing paper, which it further occurs to me that I haven't seen in years although admittedly I haven't been looking, that I could *trace them* and color them and tape them on my windows like the tacky '90s kid I am), which GLORY HALLELUJAH has spaces big enough to fucking color in!

...Michaels also had neon and metallic Crayola crayons. I might go back. They were 24-packs of each. The single silver and gold crayons from my mom's 64-pack were pretty much only used for Easter eggs in our house, so as not to use them up. I just -- I have a wealth beyond imagining of special effect crayons and markers available to me, and I'm struggling to find anywhere to use them. This seems backwards.

So anyway, then I also found a cute sundress big enough to go over my ass, and then I sat in the furniture section for a while and pondered buying a new table so I wouldn't have to keep stacking coloring books on top of the peanut butter jar in order to eat, and it occurred to me that if I took down my Christmas tree, which I've had up since the Before Times (having gotten it from in fact the same Walmart east of anywhere after all the rest in town were sold out of the particular model), then I would have a space along the back of the kitchen counter where I could hypothetically put a table.

So, because I am a sensible and moderate individual, I bought a thing of string to tie up the Christmas tree branches with, and did not buy a table yet. Then it was time for D&D, so I hurried home and put my vaccination card on the fridge and got into the voice chat and started taking down the Christmas tree.

Then it was five hours later, and I had started konmari-ing the whole apartment in order to have somewhere to store the Christmas tree, and I had discovered that my closet shelf was almost entirely full of empty cardboard boxes, so I had pulled all those out and rifled through them to make sure they didn't contain anything important, and after rescuing three cards from a friend and one glasses chamois, I stuffed most of the boxes in a trash bag, jammed the condensed Christmas tree and all the winter blankets and my air mattress and various other wintry things into the giant box my office chair came in, managed to get that giant box up onto the closet shelf (I have some soreness around my injection site but I honestly don't know if it's a side effect of the vaccination or a pulled muscle from wiggling a very large heavy box into a very tight space over my head), and moved the Goodwill oddities into a midsize box that I think I brought my workstation home in, but they just moved the remaining onsite agents into a much smaller room so I don't think I'm going to be asked to bring my workstation back for a while, and when I do go to bring it back I think the monitors will fit nicely in my washtub.

(I'm giving Goodwill my crockpot. After I forgot the garbanzos in it for three days until the chicken broth started to stink, I decided I am not a person who needs to own a crockpot. Also something like eight skeins of rather ugly yarn because I bought too much for the baby blankets I was making.)

(I'm not sure why I own a washtub. It's bright blue and plastic. It does have a use, which is to hand-wash my weighted blanket in occasionally, as of course you can't put twenty-odd pounds of glass baubles in a washing machine.)

(I certainly did make some life choices that led me here, did I not.)

Annnnyway, so now I have an almost empty three-drawer Rubbermaid dresser, an entirely empty and extremely large Rubbermaid tote (I'm pretty sure I could trap myself in there, but I haven't tried), a mostly empty square ottoman which is also a storage box, and a royal shitton of tiny things like office supplies and party favors that don't *go* anywhere.

"A place for everything" is the really hard part, you know. I achieved it once. Then I moved out of that apartment and have never achieved it again. Once things *have* places, then even if you don't have the spoons to put the peanut butter jar back in the pantry right *now*, you know it has a spot between the Hormel and the Chef Boyardee, and it's way easier than "oh god if I open the pantry there won't be any room and I'll wind up putting the peanut butter under the bathroom sink with the Johnnie Walker Black or maybe over the kitchen sink on top of the Thermacare back wraps."

(You're supposed to store whisky upright in a cool dark place, okay. None of the upper cabinet shelves are tall enough, so I could have put it either directly over the water heater or directly next to the oven. Instead it lurks behind the toilet paper, next to the Clorox wipes and the pre-pandemic Lush bath bomb, which I should... probably use at some point.)

Erm. So then I was pondering what-all storage I would need to source in order to begin having places in which to put things, *findable* places which is the real grail, and -- I think I took a pause to read Dreamwidth and someone linked me a plushie trilobite, okay. I haven't yet entirely decided whether to buy it, but it occurred to me that I definitely have no home for a plushie trilobite, any more than for the amazing Zaeed plushie currently trapped under my cross stitching or the Star Wars Build-a-Bear who was supposed to make Ewok noises until three weeks of freeze-thaw cycle in a malfunctioning package locker did for his electronic squeaker, or the poor American Girl doll languishing inside the ottoman.

So then I was like "we used to have that little net corner hammock for stuffed animals when I was a kid, we never could get it mounted right, but perhaps with fewer cooks that would be a good option". So I googled for one, and all I could find was an assortment of JUMBO five-or-six-foot-long double-deep toy hammocks, obviously necessary to keep your child from drowning in the flood of stuffed animals that have taken over beds in the past thirty years.

(Okay, I was pretty toy-deprived as a kid, the 1980s were not in general what you would call a time of less stuff in American households. Still. I have a twin bed. I can hardly even *find* a toy hammock that wouldn't be bigger than my bed in some dimension.)

So then, it being the aforementioned five hours later with a lot of D&D combined with hard physical labor in the middle, I said to myself, said I, "Hammocks are made out of net, and nets are made out of strings." And by god, if there is one thing I'm better at than another, it is making things out of string. I've never actually gotten around to trying out the whole process of making an actual fisherman's net, which is much more closely related to tatting than to knitting, but I have yarn and most of the possible knitting or crocheting supplies I would need to invent things.

Which, at long last, explains why I have paused to write this halfway through creating a triangular filet crochet toy hammock out of sparkly yellow yarn.

Joann's is having a 50% off sale on plastic storage whatsits tomorrow, but I think I'll probably spend a large part of the day putting office supplies into ziploc bags and hanging them in rows on the wall with pushpins so as to figure out what-all I in fact own.

[imaginesmai]

Taron Egerton - Hypothetically

This is my first Taron Egerton fic, I hope you like it!! This is for the bunch of people who have been requesting me to do something about Taron. Most of them were anon and requested some alphabets. I don’t think I can do that about him, becuase that’s what I find most difficult.

Plot: you find something that you didn’t mean to in Taron’s tablet, and you wish it had been porn.

It started accidentally. You were working and needed to look something up, but your computer was maxed out running a new program, so you picked up Taron’s tablet which he had left on the table. He had never been particularly previous about keeping his stuff to himself – in fact, he had configured your fingerprints to let you in – so you helped yourself without asking and opened his browser.

A white with golden ornaments webpage greeted you. It took you a while to understand what was it about, because it was early in the morning and because you didn’t read what the website was about. Once you squinted your eyes and looked thoughtfully at the title, you almost passed out.

Taron had been reading about weddings. Specifically, top ten places to have a wedding and impress your girlfriend.  

Eyes widening, you dropped the device on the table with a clatter. Hearing Taron bustling in the small kitchen of your cute vintage aparment, you shoved it back in place awkwardly, and forced your eyes back to your own flickering screen. Suddenly, friction coefficients didn’t seem so important.

“Y/N?”

You jumped out of your skin and turned to see him sticking his head around the door. The sight would have been funny if you weren’t so nervous; he was wearing a hairnet and a glittering apron. He gave you a slightly concerned frown.

“Are you… alright?”

“Yeah! Fine, thanks. Sorry, just… working” you chuckled, pressing random keys on the computer. “I was just concentrating”

“I bet it’s on something really smart” he teased, and you gave him your most real smile. “Sorry for startling you”

“No, it’s okay. Fine. I’m fine!” your voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched even for you.

Taron’s concern didn’t seem to entirely abate, extremely reasonably given your babbling, so he stepped closer and dropped a gentle hand on your shoulder. Despite everything, something about him was always so perfectly solid, comforting and safe that you found yourself breathing almost normally again.

You turned up to him and smiled; not even that forced. Taron liked to get into his characters in the most strange ways, so maybe he had just been looking it up for his new film. You repeated that to yourself at least twenty times in your head, while he massaged your shoulder in a gentle way. There was no way you had just discovered him looking up ideas for your weeding.

“I’m okay, really” you assured him. You gripped his wrist with your hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Just a bit stressed over the project”

“The astrophysics one?”

You had been working on a new project for college for a few months, wanting to be as perfect as possible. It was your last work before graduating on your master, and if everything went well, you would be able to get a real job in a few weeks. Taron had been very helpful on the way, taking care of you when you forgot and being there in every moment.

Nodding, you looked back to the screen.

“It’s almost over, just a few more details”

“You’re gonna do amazing” he bent down and kissed your cheek. “And I’m gonna brag so hard about my physic girlfriend”

Girlfriend. Not wife, or at least not yet. Muttering a quick ‘love you’, Taron turned back to the kitchen; and you gave the forgotten tablet a side glance, checking that it hadn’t been all a dream.

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

“Okay, what is with you?” Betty, your best friend, demanded the next day. “I’ve just told you three times what happened last night with Brian, and you still have to give the talk about going back with my ex. And I don’t buy that you suddenly like him. ”

You shook your head and finally looked over your friend. She was visiting you for a few hours, and was updating you from life back at home while you two had coffee in a beautiful café you found when you arrived. Betty lived back home, working in a supermarket, while you had to travel away to be with Taron. So it was a rare occasion, to see both of you together, and you were completely wasting it because you couldn’t stop thinking about the tablet.

You sighed, and tried to remember what she was talking about as you looked down to your coffee. It had a weird shape made on the top – and it wasn’t as if you only though about it, but it looked like a ring to you.

“He’s an asshole, I don’t know why you go out with him. But I love you anyway” you repeated like a mantra. Everytime you met, Betty had gone back to his ex-boyfriend, a boy who didn’t deserve her, so you thought it wouldn’t be very hard to keep the conversation going.

It didn’t go that well.

“I’ve just told you that I’ve blocked him, so I’m gonna assume you haven’t heard an inch of what I’ve said” she rubbed a tired hand over the bridge of her nose, and finally looked at you with a raised brow. “All right, what has he done now?”

You blinked at Betty. It was disingenuous to pretend you didn’t know who ‘he’ was meant to be, but you found her easy perception disconcerting.

“Nothing!” you shook your hand, and sighed, because lying to a spy would be as useful as watering an artificial plant. “Not really – I just, borrowed his table and accidentally saw some of his browsing history.”

Betty’s eyebrows rose higher than you thought possible, and you sighed. She wasn’t the person you wanted to talk about that; actually, you didn’t want to talk about it to anyone. But you had the impression that if you didn’t you would just explode. Before you had time to explain, Betty talked.

“Looking at porn is normal in –“

“Not that!” you interrupted her. “He was reading stuff… about weddings. And I know it’s probably nothing and just some background reading for his new movie – although I thought it was about spies. But I was kinda shocked? And for some reason my brain won’t shut off and keeps thinking about it.”

Betty snorted with laughter and then just kept laughing. You grumbled and turned back to your coffee, blush on your cheeks.

“Your life is turning into the worst sort of romantic comedy” she laughed. “Come on, what did you expect? We’re talking about Taron! The boy asked you to move in the third month of your relationship! What will be the next chapter? Kids? Retirement plans? I bet he has – “

“Shut up” you mumbled.

It was true that your relationship with the actor had been… rushed. You had met him through a mutual friend, and within the first month of talking, he had already invited you on a date. He was perfect in every way you could imagine; attentive, funny, handsome, gentle and affectionate. He always put you first when it came to decisions, and you were sure he would drop everything if he asked you to do so.

Thoughts about Taron plagued your mind and you smiled sheepishly.

“Then ask him” Betty shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “If you’re not worried about spoiling the surprise, of course”

“But it has been merely a year!” voicing out your concerns didn’t make you feel any better.

“So? My mom proposed to my dad three months after they started dating”

“Aren’t your parents divorced?”

“And not in talking terms”

You buried your face in your arms and closed your eyes tightly. It seemed, like it wasn’t going to be an easy task. Betty’s phone rang and you didn’t have to look to know it was Brian. You didn’t bother in looking up or saying goodbye, just heard her hurried steps as she left the place to talk to him.

You had more than enough with your problems.

-

You decided to ask him that evening.

You had always prided yourself in being a practical kind of person, and not someone who made assumptions based on guesswork and lack of evidence. Also, you didn’t think you could stand a surprise proposal without fainting on the spot.

Closing the door again, you announced your arrival and received a quick greeting from Taron. Noises could be heard from the kitchen, and a peek look while you took off your jacket let you know that he was cooking. He was wearing again the awful apron, and you salivated just by the smell of the food. Taron had always loved to cook, from impressive breakfast to surprising meals; after your fair share of disappointment and food poisoning, he had become quite talented at that.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek while he moved what seemed pork in the pan, and he answered by dragging you closer and planting a full kiss on your lips while you were serving yourself some water.

You smiled tight, returned the kiss and decided that you were doing it later.

That later, actually, came when dinner was finished.

You were almost falling asleep on his lap after a delicious dinner, dozing off on the film that you were trying to see. You couldn’t focus on what it was about, but rather on how to keep your eyes open to ask him about the weeding. You were laying your head on his thighs, and he had both of hands on you. One of his hands was caressing on your hip, warm and soft against the naked skin, and the other massaging your scalp, occasionally undoing on the knots of your hair. It felt ridiculous to ruin the mood by something that stupid, but you knew he would notice something was off eventually; and he tended to panic.

“So” you started.

Taron stopped moving for a second, before going back to his business. He, unlike you, liked to watch the movies you played on weekends, and got really invested into some of them. Usually, when you interrupted it, he got all mad and playfully banned you from the couch. But he had known you wanted to talk about something all day, from how silent you had been during dinner.

“So, Y/N” he repeated, and you smacked his thigh.

“You know – I borrowed your tabled, this morning?”

He frowned and you could hear the wheels turning in his brain. Taron, as said before, was the most paranoid boy you had ever met; and not in a bad way, because he fully trusted you, but it was true that he tended to think about conclusions before getting the facts.

“Was it porn?” he asked, and you felt like screaming for the second time that day. “Because I don’t think I opened it today. But, you know – we’ve had this conversation before, it’s hard when you –“

“I’m talking about the wedding plans, Taron”

Now, he really stopped moving. You felt him going tense under you, and the only thing he managed to do was to press silent with the remote he was holding. You could probably hear a pin dropping on the street, but in that moment the only thing you heard was Taron’s breathing and your heart beating loudly.

The truth was, Taron didn’t have the heart to make any excuse. He had already thought that it was a bit rushed, because you hadn’t been dating for that long. But recently, one of his friends was getting married, and all the preparations had made him look up some details about… your possible wedding. Just imagining you in the white dress he had seen the last week or in the beach, walking towards him, gave him chills.

“Uh”

Taron tried to say anything that might had excused the tabs on his tablet, and he mentally kicked himself for it not being porn. He could deal with an argument about the inconveniences of it, but not with you saying him ‘no’ already. He hadn’t even meant to ask you yet – he was curious. You were still looking at him, so he gave you a hesitant smile.

“I just see myself with you” he blurted out, much more confident of what he felt. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. “You’re so perfect, and complement me so well. I just – lately I’m always thinking about the future, and in every possibility there is you, with me, married and maybe with some kids. I’m sorry if… I know it’s rushed, and you don’t have to say anything. I just… imagining a future with you makes me keep going. Hypothetically ”

Taron shrugged at the end, as if it hadn’t been the most beautiful thing he had ever told you. He had a tendency to do that, a lot. Even if he was talkative and open on the outside, behind closed doors Taron was a bit shy. From your side vision, someone did something stupid in the film and got murdered.

You shifted so that you were back to your original position, having laid on your back to look at him. You turned your head to the screen and Taron pressed back the volume, and you didn’t miss how he slumped down and sighed.

Truly, you didn’t know what do say. Taron had been what you had always wanted in partner, and in the short amount of time you had been with him, you hadn’t discovered a single thing that made you not like him.

His hands were resting behind you, as if he was afraid to touch you. You reached for one and made him hug your middle until you could play with his fingers on your front.

“Just so you know, hypothetically” you started, fidgeting and looking at the blonde friend who tried to run from the killer in the TV. “I would say yes”

Taron smiled so wide that he thought he could slip his head in two, and finally relaxed into the touch. His hand that wasn’t trapped by you started playing with your hair once more, and the relaxed and happy mood that you enjoyed before was back.

“Well, I love you a lot. And that’s not hypothetically”

“I love you too, moron” you smiled and closed your eyes, ready to finally drift off.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!