#i even brought out Big Canon Camera to take pictures with too just in case

[whoslaurapalmer]

many frog pictures taken!!!!! now to. see which ones turned out the best

[descendantofthesparrow]

Finale - Rewrite - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 5 - the ember

Outfits;

C4+(y/n)

*Mals transformation (skull is the symbol on her back)

Hadie and Celia

Uma (for her first appearance, she's wearing her canon dress)

=

The vks finally arrived at the closest shore facing the isle, Mal taking a deep breath and lifting her goggles to look at Celia. They didn’t want to draw too much attention to themselves on the isle so they would get off and on with the spell that Mal had used years back. “you remember what I said?” Mal asked Celia, Celia nodded, slightly unsure this would even work but Mal was sure Celia could use magic, and therefore cast the spell.

Celia took a deep breath and face the isle, picturing all five motor-bikes in her head as she spoke the incantation “Noble steeds/proud and fair, you shall take us/anywhere” the bikes all glowed a reddish-purple, matching Celia’s hair, and Mal nodded, knowing the spell had worked.

Mal put her goggles back down and revved the engine of her bike, leading the others onto the ocean. Hadie looked down at the water in awe as the bikes easily rode on the water as if it was solid ground, he whistled then looked back up to see the isle coming closer and closer. Celia laughed, feeling giddy as it sunk in, she used her magic, she had done it! She couldn’t wait to tell her dad!

After a few minutes the bikes passed through the barrier, both Hadie and Celia winced at the feeling of magical being forced back underneath their skin, and soon they rolled onto land, Mal taking a few turns towards Faciliers arcade that rested right next to curl up and dye. They passed through the wharf marketplace and through the alleyway where their old hideout was (which had been emptied and claimed by someone else)

Mal turned one last corner and parked her bike right in front of the place that used to be Hades Greek restaurant (he used to be there a lot, but at one point he stopped coming completely and left it in the hands of his hires and son, who ‘sold’ it and it was turned into a regular shop with furniture and decor)

The others parked next to Mal and turned off their bikes, taking off their helmets and leaving them on the seats as (y/n), Hadie, and Celia continued to carry theirs. Mal brought a lock of her hair in front of her and sighed, nope, still brown. She had a small hope that the barrier would reverse the spell that Audrey had cast but Mal supposed she was out of luck on that one. “Come on” Mal muttered, Celia leading the way to the arcade as the vks and (y/n) followed her to the arcade door.

Celia placed her helmet onto the fortune reading table for safekeeping (I mean, who would dare steal from the daughter of the shadow man?) (y/n) and Hadie doing the same, and walked up to a multicolored door with the words ‘Do Not Disturb’ in French painted on it.

Celia grinned at the vks and turned back to the door, excited to show off the arcade. She made a few quick beats with her fist, dancing as someone knocked back in a different beat. She did it once more and bounced in excitement as the door unlocked and slid open, the bouncer inside stepping aside as Celia gestured for everyone to follow her. (y/n), Mal, and Evie shared a proud grin and followed after her, Carlos and Jay looking around as they hadn’t been to the arcade in years, and the surrounding area had changed since the last time they were there.

Celia rushed through the entrance, gasping in delight as she saw the back of her father's head, she practically jumped down the steps and grinned widely as her father turned and smiled. “Hey!” he turned and threw his cane to one of his workers who caught it and turned back to a card reading table. Facilier turned back to his daughter and held his arms out “there she is!”

“Daddy~!!” Celia squealed as she ran towards him and slammed into his arms, laughing as he lifted her into the air and set her down on his other side. The two engaged in a little dance that had obviously been done time and time again, created years ago and they had decided to keep it up. Mal didn’t stop the smile from blooming on her face, while they were on a time crunch and the worlds impending doom was on its way, it warmed her heart to see good parents on the isle, it was rare to see one of the adults not seer at their kids, it was a wonder to see them be fully affectionate.

Plus Facilier had always been one of those adults the kids went to if they needed help, he was “nice” like that. Facilier tapped his cheek, expecting a kiss from Celia but the girl cheekily tapped his hat instead and started to run, squealing with laughter as he caught her and pulled her into his side. Mal and Evie grinned at each other, their delight at seeing the father-daughter relationship slightly dimmed by their lack of one.

The vks loosely followed the two Facilier’s as (y/n) explored the arcade, whistling a bit as she looked around at the extravagant displays and games surrounding her. She had heard Harry and Gil talk about this place before but she had never had the opportunity to visit it when it was active.

Celia grinned as her dad leaned down next to her ear “so what kinda hustle do you got goin’ on with them, shiny people?” Celia just grinned and pulled a small purple velvet drawstring bag out of her shoulder bag, plopping it in his hand and kipping over to the wall of signs next to her dad’s card reading table and grabbing the skull-shaped key then looping it around her neck.

Her father looked at her with pride as he held the piles of coins in his hands, all from the Auradon people she had read cards for in the last day. “Cher” her dad whispered, pride clear in his voice as he carefully poured the coins back into the pouch and tossed it back to his daughter “look at my little girl go, already conning half of Auradon~” Celia just grinned, perking up as Carlos called everyone over to a static tv that was connected to the Auradon network.

The reporter on screen stood at Auradon prep, next to the statue of Adam, as the camera followed him as he walked “Alerts of a sleeping spell keep coming in as it spreads across Auradon, sources say the daughter of Aurora, Audrey, is responsible for this spell; were trying to discover who is responsible for these vicious lies, and which villain has perpetrated this evil” the man stopped and held his finger up to his earpiece, his face paling in fear “it’s what? it's heading this way, cut it-cut it! we have to run!” the screen cut to static and the vks looked at each other in terror.

“We have to go get the ember” Mal rushed out, Hadie leading the way as you waited for Facilier to release his daughter's shoulder as he stared at the screen in fear for his daughter.

“I’ll protect her,” you said with a smile, holding out your hand to the girl as Facilier nodded and let Celia go.

“You better” he muttered, crossing his arms as you and Celia raced out after the others.

-

“Rookie mistake” Carlos grumbled as he spotted some of Umas crew members on top of their bikes as they rounded the corner of the alleyway. You sighed, looking over Jay’s shoulder to see Jonas on Jay’s bike, grinning wildly.

“Get off my bike!” Jay yelled out, leaping forward in an attempt to grab Jonas’ jacket as the pirate laughed. Jay just missed as Jonas and his four other pirate cohorts all raced off on your bikes, and you could recognize Bonnie on top of yours. “Over the roofs!” Jay yelled out, Evie and Carlos nodding and running off as Jay turned to you “cut them off” you looked back at Mal and nodded, climbing the buildings and running after the sound of the bike engines.

Celia went to follow but Hadie and Mal grabbed her arms, preventing her from joining the case “Hey, hey hey! They got this, we need to get the ember ASAP” Mal stated, nodding as Celia sighed in slight disappointment.

“Good timing too” Hadie muttered, checking his watch “right about his nap time” Mal raised her brow but followed her fellow vks as they quickly walked towards the other end of the isle where the mines were.

‘he takes naps?’ Mal thought, looking behind her and seeing you dropping down into an alleyway a few buildings away. She turned back to Hadie and Celia then quickly caught up to them as they had walked faster than she thought they would.

-

After a few minutes of (almost running) rushed walking, the three vks arrived at the mines, guarded by an intimidating metal gate with Hades symbol, made out of wooden planks and old tires, on the front, with multiple keep out and warning signs plastered around. “Hey” Mal interrupted Celia, who was unlocking the door. Hadie and Celia stopped to look at her confused, Hadie halfway wondering if she was backing out of the plan “how big is that dog?” Mal nodded that sign behind Celia and she turned, Celia sighed and shook her head as Hadie snorted at a joke that wasn’t there.

“You’ll see” Celia muttered as Hadie snorted again, pulling the gate open and leading the two girls inside. Celia gasped quietly and turned back on Mal, holding her finger up to her lips “Okay, you have to stay quiet it echoes like crazy in here” even as Celia whispered it reverberated against the old rocky walls of the isle mines. Mal nodded and glanced around at the multiple record speakers that hung off the walls, following Celia as Hadie stood by the railway that led towards his father's lair.

Mal jumped at the sudden sound of multiple dogs barking and grabbed onto Hadie, who laughed quietly and pointed at the speakers “not here” Hadie whispered, waving Celia off the bike turned-makeshift minecart hybrid “too loud, if we’re stealing the ember, we need to be quiet as possible, we walk. It’s not too far” Mal nodded and kept her grip on Hadie’s arm, tensing up each time the guardian of the underworld's barks echoed around her. Hadie glanced at her but said nothing, letting her use him as a crutch as the three vks walked down the dark and damp tunnels of the abandoned mineshafts.

Hadie took a few twists and turns, apparently a shortcut to his room (which was also a back way towards Hades main area of his lair), and soon the three stepped out into a pretty large room with a queen-sized bed with a dark grey and blue bedspread. Hadie grabbed a bass from his wall and carried it, nodding out towards the curtain door “an excuse, case he wakes up as we walk out” Hadie whispered, Celia went first as they stepped through the curtain.

Mal stopped as her eyes locked onto the back of the god of the underworld's head, his hair was a dim dark blue, the side effect of his hair unable to light ablaze. Mal sighed in relief as the god snored loudly…very loudly, it reminded Mal of when Ben’s dad had fallen asleep during a late-night hangout back when Mal was still in school at Auradon prep.

As the three crept closer, the sounds of dogs barking started to loop, and Mal looked around confused before Hadie pointed at an old record player, it had hit a scratch on the disc and was now looping on a singular bark. Mal breathed a quiet sigh of relief, that meant no dog to be fed to if Hades caught them.

Mal walked heel to toe as she snuck over to Hades, while Hadie and Celia slowly made their way around the other way. Just as Mal got close, Celia got fed up with the record and lifted the needle, sending a loud screeching noise through the cave. Mal and Hadie glared at Celia, as the rash decision had made Hades wake up. He lifted his head slightly and look directly at his son and Celia “What are you doing here?” he grumbled in a tired tone, yawning a bit as Hadie raised his bass in the air.

“Forgot my bass” Hadie simply said as Celia took out a can of corn and a packaged blue rock candy.

“I noticed, you were out, of canned corn” she tossed the candy and can to the god and he caught them with one hand. Mal by then had lifted the ember out of the dish it was sitting in and was bringing it to her chest, screaming lightly as Hades suddenly grabbed her hand, stopping her from crouching out of sight.

Hades turned to look at her, his yellow eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Mal harshly swallowed and released the ember as he took it from her, moving to rest his head on his arm. He and Mal stared at each other for a moment, Hadie and Celia standing awkwardly near the old wooden stairs that lead back up to the tunnels. “um-“ Mal started in a meek voice, watching his eyes as he looked at her newly brown hair and eyes “-can I have that?” her usual confidence was gone, she was powerless and in front of a god who could pick her up with one hand and chuck her across the room even without his powers.

Hades raised his brow and turned his head to look at the ember, which was black as coal, in his hand. Then he looked back at her. “And why should I give it to you?” Hades asked coolly, taking off his glasses and tossing them to the side, leaning back in his minecart turned chair, lofting his boots up next to Mal’s face. “uh-“ Mal clearly hadn't expected him to ask that, she had expected him to get angry and throw her out of his lair. Quick mal, come up with an excuse or something! “I need it?”…nice one Mal, top-notch, he’ll for sure give you the ember now.

Hades rolled his eyes and looked to Hadie, who just shrugged. “Auradon is in danger and we need the ember” Hadie answered dryly, watching Mal carefully as she stepped in front of Hades and held out her hand, his father's yellow eyes staring down at Mal carelessly.

“Please?” Mal asked in a much firmer tone, her eyes looking directly into Hades. Hades huffed and lifted up the ember, waving the black gem around a bit.

“You’re only half Hades, the ember won't do everything for you that it does for me” Mal clicked her jaw and gestured to Hadie, not really paying attention to what Hades had just said.

“Hadie’s gonna be the one to use it anyway, I just wanted-to…” Mal’s brain caught up to the words that had just come out of Hades mouth and she looked back up at him with wide eyes, Celia’s jaw had dropped as she realized what he had meant “IM HALF WHAT?!” now Hades looked confused, looking at Mal as if she was crazy.

“you-you didn’t know?” Hades has lost his confidence, his brow raising in confusion, then he looked to Hadie “she doesn’t know?”

Hadie just pinched his brow and sat down on the wooden steps, ignoring his father and (newly announced) half-sister as the Mal started to squabble about her mother and Hades. “fuckin-what?!” Mal screeched, running her hands through her hair and starting to pace around the lair, Celia looking concerned as Mal tugged at her brown locks “you?! My dad?! That’s-that’s not right?! My mom said he was human, a full-on human!? It can’t be you it-“ Mal started to hyperventilate and Hades took her hands, bringing her closer to him and looking into her eyes. “Kid, calm down, you’re having a panic attack, breathe with me, okay?” Mal knew she had to listen or she would pass out so she followed Hades lead. When she got control of her breath again, she pushed him away, wiping away the tears that had gathered in her eyes “she never told you?”

“I guess fucking not” Mal assumed he meant her mother never telling her about her true father “and-also HOW?!” Hades just gave her a knowing look “NOT LIKE THAT-“ Mal did NOT want to think about her mother and Hades doing the do “-I mean-how did” Mal gestured to herself then Hades “this! Happen?? I thought you were loyal to Persephone!?” “Mom knows about this by the way” Hadie interrupted, motioning between his father and sister “and she’s pissed the fuck off, so whenever you see her again dad, you have millennia of making up to do” Hades winced at the thought of his wife being very mad at him, but it wasn’t unwarranted, but he had another matter to attend to.

Hades sighed and turned back to Mal, rubbing his stubble “I got drunk, very drunk, I don’t remember much but I woke up next to your mother and eleven months later you were dropped off for me to babysit” Mal’s jaw dropped in shock and slight disgust “I didn’t know about you until you were already two months old, and then I took care of you for about three months before your mother took you back, something about an heir of darkness.” Hades waved off the notion of Maleficent abandoning Mal on his doorstep and continued on as Mal gawked at him. “and before you ask-I do know I am really your dad because your hair was blueish-purple when she dropped you off and it was almost completely blue when she took you away, I think your magic reacted to whomever you were around the most-“ Mal shook her head, she didn’t have time for this!

“Okay, whatever, I don’t care. I don’t have time for all this” Mal waved her hands around in frustration(noticeably in the same way Hades did but no one commented on it) and held out her hand again “but! If you wanna make up for being a lousy dad” Hades frowned at that “gimme the ember” he stared down at her for a moment before gently placing the ember into Mal's palm, Mal closing her hand around it and nodding “thank you, it’ll be returned after we save Auradon”

“It won’t work for you completely, you are still only half Hades” Hades warned as Mal pocketed the ember into her thigh bag, raising his brow as she glared up at him. “So what? I’m not the one using it, dad” Mal hissed the last word, as if it was poison in her mouth. She didn’t fully believe him, after all, if her mother had lied to her for years about her father, who's to say he wasn’t lying to her now?

Mal pushed past him and up the steps, Celia quickly following her as Hadie set down his bass and looked back at his dad.

“Did she really never tell her?” Hades asked  quietly, looking up at the stairs after Mal, an upset look on his face. “all this time, almost 19 years of standing by, she didn’t even know?”

Hadie sighed and crossed his arms “You really think Maleficent would have told Mal about her true parentage? If Mal had known you were her dad, she would have never listened to Maleficent, she manipulated Mal…I have to go, kingdom to save n all” Hades nodded, watching his son walk out after his daughter and sighing. So much for respecting Mal’s wishes.

-

Celia looked up at Mal, pressing her lips together as the awkward silence pierced the air. “I guess that’s why he was always asking about you” Celia murmured, stopping in front of the front gate as Mal paused, looking directly at the ground.

Mal then shook her head, lifting it up to stare straight ahead “let's go, we’re wasting time” Mal continued forward towards the main area of the isle again, Hadie and Celia giving each other a look before following after her. Mal was right, there were more important things to get to than her parentage.

-

Ben was back at his desk, talking on his phone with one of the captains of the royal guard “No. no, I want the royal guard handing out gas masks!” Ben said in a stressed tone, tapping through his tablet as more reports of the sleeping spell came through. Ben growled a bit as the captain on the other side muttered something about the spell “Well not everyone's asleep!” Ben hung up and tossed his phone on his desk, looking up and pointing at the servant standing at his door “Find out if anyone has seen Audrey, and see if she has a list of demands!” the servant nodded and turned out the door.

Ben sighed and unzipped his jacket, flopping back on his chair and running his hand through his hair as he tried to calm down. Why had this happened? What had happened with Audrey that caused Maleficent to possess her?

Mal had texted him earlier that the spell used the victim's emotions against them, so whoever had taken the scepter was feeling very intense emotions, enough for her mother to feed on that. So what had Audrey been feeling when Maleficent took control?

Ben had a sinking feeling it had to do with one very bitter grandmother.

“just one~” Ben yelped and stood from his chair as he spun around, eyes widening as he locked into Audrey’s eyes, which were swimming with green. “I demand my life back”

Ben looked behind him at his door, mentally cursing as all his guards had left to go help the people. “I have a proposition for you~” he turned back to Audrey and watched as he pointed behind her towards the rest of the kingdom “I’ll wake everybody up right now, under one, itty bitty condition” she stepped closer to him, her eyes flashing green. “make me queen”

‘queen?’ Ben thought confused, why would Audrey want to be queen? Why would Maleficent want to be queen? Then Ben remembered when he overheard one of Leah’s bullshit rants about Audrey’s right to the crown. Audrey was just doing exactly what her grandmother wanted, just in a twisted way…that’s why Leah had been turned to stone that morning.

And Maleficent was just going along with Audrey’s ‘desires’ so she wouldn’t be detected by the young princess, she was waiting for the opportune moment to take over completely. “Audrey” Ben started softly, taking her hand and bringing it towards him. Audrey looked confused, her eyes flickering with magenta and green. “someone spelled you, you have to let me help you-“Audrey's eyes turned fully green and she ripped away from Ben, and Ben knew Maleficent was in control now.

“Pathetic” Audrey hissed in a cold tone, her face morphing into a sneer as the scepter glowed bright green in her hand “so kind, so trusting, you won't even strike your precious little friend down just when you had the chance” Ben glared at Maleficent, hand drawing behind him to the hidden dagger that (y/n) had stashed a couple of months ago. “just like your mother…” Audrey’s eyes turned bright green and then she grinned cruelly “but so afraid of being like your father~” Ben froze in fear, realizing what she was talking about. No, she wouldn’t “let's see how you like being a beast~” Ben raced forward in an attempt to snatch the scepter from Audrey but he was blown back as it flashed green and his body was overtaken in a green flash.

Ben screamed out in pain, but It only came out as a monstrous roar, his teeth becoming fangs as his nails pushed out and sharpened, fur erupting from his entire body and everything just became so loud.

He let out another painful roar, Audrey cackling in the background as the scepter flashed magenta and Ben swore he heard someone screaming then everything went silent.

Ben blacked out from the pain and when he woke up a few moments later, Audrey was gone, the only thing left was a few wisps of smoke. Ben crawled over to his balcony and looked down, a whimper slipping through his new snout as he saw many of the servants now turned to stone. Ben turned on his heels and ran through the castle, looking for anybody who could help him, his claws ripped and scratched at the walls as he raced through them, he ended up at the hall of armor and ripped open the doors, claws digging into the frame and Ben ended up with a large splinter in his palm.

He roared in pain again and ran out the other side of the hall, crashing through the doors and running into the forest, he couldn’t let anybody see him like this, he had to find a way to turn back into a human before he hurt someone.

-

Mal, Hadie, and Celia walked back into the arcade, Celia racing towards her dad as Mal walked over to her friends who were playing some odd combo of foosball and pool. “M!” Evie called, relieved her friend was okay as Mal trotted over to her and wrapped her arms around Evie’s arm. Evie grabbed Mal’s shoulder with her free hand and looked at her “do you have it?” Mal nodded and dug into her thigh bag, taking out the black as coal ember. “Good, let's get off this rock”

Mal nodded, turning to jay to ask him where the bikes were but he interrupted her “how’d you get it? I assume he either gave to Hadie or you snatched it?” Mal winced at the reminder of how she had gotten the ember.

Welp, no better time to tell them then now, eh? “uh, yeah about that” Mal muttered, looking down at the ember in her hand “uh, he just-gave it to me?” it sounded more like a question than anything else. Mal was unsure if Hades really was her dad, but she would spill details about the entire thing later, right now the short and sweet answer was best.

“He just” Carlos started, furrowing his brows in confusion and glancing to Hadie “gave it to you? And not Hadie?”

“Yeah well, there's a reason behind it which is-guess whomst the fuckiest my dad is?” Mal laughed, giving her friends a tilted smile as they looked at her strangely, why bring up her dad at a time like this?

“Oh no fucking way” it hit Carlos first, his eyes widening “no fucking way but you said-“ Mal laughed again, sounding strangled.

“I know! I know! I thought so too! But I guess it's just another thing my mother lied to me about” Jay looked a little miffed at not understanding what Carlos and Mal were talking about, Evie looking lost as well “Remember how I said my dad was human? For the last 19 fucking years?” Jay and Evie nodded, (y/n) cleaning up the table behind them before freezing as realization dawned on her.

“Oh, no fucking way” (y/n) groaned, looking to Mal with an exasperated look “your dad is-that means-what the actual fuck” Evie finally had enough and turned to Mal with her brow raised.

“Okay spill before I stab you”

“Apparently, my dad is fucking Hades” Mal hissed quietly, leaning closer to Jay and Evie as their eyes went wide in shock “Yep, my mother lied, again, about my dad. Told me he was human to keep me in check and shit.”

“I-“ Jay stuttered, unable to get anything out as his mouth opened and closed. “are you sure?” At this Mal shook her head, no she wasn’t sure, but this was helping them in their favor, Hades had given Mal the ember willingly under the pretense she was his kid.

“no im not, and I don’t want to know how or why, but we can do all this processing shit later when Auradon or Audrey aren’t in danger, let’s go. You got our bikes back, right?” Mal asked the boys, wincing as (y/n) glared darkly. She would take that as a no then.

“Nope, they got away” Carlos muttered, crossing his arms.

“The only way back to Auradon is the bridge” Mal sighed, smiling as Evie clicked her heels on the dusty arcade floor.

“Glad I wore my comfortable heels then” Jay grabbed Evie's arm before the two could leave.

“Yeah, we need the remote, and I left it at the house” Mal and Evie shared a horrified look, what were they going to do? Auradon was in danger and they were stuck on the isle with no way off.

“I lifted it off of you” the group turned to Celia, who was holding the golden remote to the barrier “I thought it would be useful and it is” Evie smiled, stepping towards Celia and leaning on a support beam.

“Good job” Celia smiled and Jay took the remote, pressing his lips together in an impressed smirk.

“Sweet” Celia turned to hug her father one last time as everyone grabbed their bags and started to make their way out of the arcade, she kissed him on the cheek and ran after (y/n), meeting (y/n)’s stride as she patted Celia’s back.

“Good job kid” Celia beamed again, happy her thieving skills were being appreciated. “also Mal!” Mal turned her head to show she was listening “After this shit is over, we're coming back here and getting those damn bikes back, that thing is too damn expensive to lose to a fucking isle goon” Mal snorted and nodded.

“Noted” honestly Mal wanted her bike back anyway, Carlos had spent several months making and modifying their bikes to fit them perfectly, she wasn’t about to let them be stripped.

-

The group of vks, and one dimension traveling girl, finally arrived at the bridge, Jay taking out the remote and pressing the bottom button opening the barrier. “Come on” Mal mumbled, nodding her head towards the opening. The others followed her lead and stepped over the barrier line.

Just as the ember crossed over the line, it ignited in a strong flash of light and heat, Mal felt fire shoot up her hand holding the ember and cover her entire body. Mal gasped in slight pain as the flash of energy flooded through her and filled her with a brand-new feeling of power and magic she had never felt before.

Mal let out the shuddering breath she had been holding and shook her head, the fire that had been drained by Audrey had been returned at full force…but it felt…different from her normal fire. Mal opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, gasping as she realized her entire outfit had changed. Gone were the purples and greens of her maleficent-themed outfit, replaced by the cool blues and dark greys of Hades, blue flames licking up her jacket-turned-vest and boots.

…guess Hades wasn’t lying then, Mal frowned, looking at herself a bit more as she realized she had transformed into ‘the daughter of Hades’. She had no other explanation for why the ember had done what it did otherwise.

“Holy shit” Carlos muttered, grabbing Mal's arm to stabilize her as she wobbled on her feet slightly “What happened?”

“I don’t know” Mal muttered slightly grumpy as she twisted the ember in her eyes, it had ignited in a strong blue “It might have to do something with the ‘Hades being my dad’ thing? Hadie?” Mal looked to Hadie, frowning as he looked just as confused as she felt. “shit, okay, um-ya know what? We’re gonna ignore this for now and figure out what the fuck happened when all this shit is over with okay? Okay.” Evie picked up a lock of Mal's hair, bringing it in front of Mal's face “Evie-my hairs blue….my hair is fucking blue it was brown two seconds ago and now it's blue”

“To be fair your hair was purple three hours ago, and it's also purple at the top.” Jay supplied, pulling back a bit as Mal whirled around to glare at him. “uh-yellow eyes too” Mal scrunched her nose at Jay and huffed.

“Not helping Jay” Mal hissed, she turned back towards Auradon and closed her eyes “Okay, we-let’s just go, we’re wasting-HEY!” just as Mal was handing the ember to Hadie, Evie lifted her arm to push a lock of hair behind her ear and bumped Mal's hand, sending the ember flying. “no!” Mal screamed in panic, running towards the edge and about to jump for the ember when a very familiar tentacle sprung from the eater and grabbed the ember “wha-“

Uma rose from the water, looking absolutely ethereal in her golden shell crown and teal dress, her turquoise locs pulled back halfway as the rest framed her shoulders. Uma grinned and raised her arms, the tentacle holding the ember following them “drop something~?”

“It can't get wet!” Mal yelled in a pleading tone, gesturing for Uma to get onto the bridge “give it back before it goes out!” Mal could see the ember sparking and flickering in Uma’s hold. Uma just laughed and her tentacle curled around the ember, sealing it airtight between two suckers. her eyes turned to you, who was grinning down at her from the bridge.

“Uma~!” you yelled in excitement, bouncing on your heels as she gave you a little wave.

“That’s my name~” she purred, giving one last smirk to Mal then she sunk into the water, the ember still tight in her grip.

“Wait!” Mal called desperately, she couldn’t lose the ember, it was their only hope! Mal took a step back in fear as from where Uma had sunk a large tunnel of water began to rise until it burst, soaking everyone but you.

“Ah!” Mal yelled, pausing as she noticed the water starting to evaporate almost immediately, off her body, especially her hair. “I wha-“ nope, nope nope nope, not important right now. She noticed the same was happening to Hadie, and the two were the first dry out of everyone else.

Mal looked back down at the water, searching for Uma “Behind you~” Mal gasped and spun around, seeing Uma in a dark teal button-up, dark blue leather pants, and brown boots, her golden shell necklace sitting proudly on her neck.

Before anyone else could say anything, Mal spoke up, lifting her arms into the air in exasperation “Where the hell have you been?!”

Uma looked genuinely surprised that those were the words that had come out of Mal’s mouth instead of just accusing her of villainy and trying to steal the ember back “We’ve been looking for you for three fucking years!! Do you know how much Harry and Gil bugged Ben and I because you wouldn’t show your damn face?!” Mal screeched, rubbing her face in exhaustion at the reminder of when Harry and Gil had straight up annoyed her and Ben back when the search for Uma was fresh. “Do you even know you were pardoned two years ago? You could've surfaced at any point and you would have been fine!!”

“That’s what I said to-….her” you covered your mouth as Mal slowly turned to look at you with wide eyes, Uma face palming as you winced “uh-“

“…(y/n) did you harbor a criminal?” Mal asked dryly, raising her brow as you shrugged.

“Technically no, I just, brought her food n all that…I honestly have no idea where she stayed, but we had a meeting place?” Mal sighed and shook her head, turning to look back at Uma who stiffened up in a defensive stance. “Also, Ex-criminal” you stated, shrugging as Mal just gave you an exasperated look “jus’ sayin”

“Whatever, Uma, I need that” Mal held her hand out towards Uma, looking at the ember in the sea-witches hand. “to break a spell”

“Cast by maleficent, proxied by Audrey, sleeping beauty’s daughter” Carlos explained, eyes locked onto the ember in Uma’s hand.

“So-the good guys the bad guy-“ Uma furrowed her brows as she tried to figure out how Maleficent cast the spell through Audrey. “well, I might not give it back, see what happens” your smile dropped and you stepped closer to Uma, taking her shoulder.

“Uma no, Harry and Gil are still in Auradon and we need the ember to save them if anything has happened to them, neither of them answered my calls and I don’t want to risk anything” Uma just pursed her lips, looking between you and the pleading Mal, who looked more worried as time went on.

“Guarantee me, that any single villain kid that wants to, can get off the isle” Mal pressed her lips together at Uma’s demand, wanting to agree but the deal she had made with Beast prodded the back of her mind.

“I-I can’t do that” Mal stuttered, clenching her hands by her sides, watching the ember carefully as Uma rolled her eyes and walked to the edge of the bridge. “Can't do that” Uma muttered, turning and holding the ember over the water “Well how bout now?!”

“Deal!” Mal screamed desperately, not bothering to hide the panic on her face as she held her hands out towards Uma “Deal, deal! I promise every kid will come off, but please!...Please.” Uma looked at Mal carefully, looking for any deception before she relented.

“Fine” Uma muttered, sliding the ember into her jacket “but I’m keeping it, because if you think I trust you to save Auradon on your own” she laughed a bit, giving Mal a once over “Think again” Mal closed her eyes and sighed, at least the ember would be on their side.

“Okay fine, this is fine, we need to go now though, Jay!” he nodded and pressed the bridge button, the magic extending from the broken bits they were standing on towards Auradon. “let’s go, we have no time to lose!” Mal jogged forward, Evie, Jay, Carlos, Celia, and Hadie following close behind, leaving you with Uma.

“When we find the boys, I’m blaming the entire ‘hiding you for 3 years and never telling them’ thing on you, since it was your idea and I would like to stay in Harry’s good graces” you joked, booping Uma’s nose and grabbing her hand to drag her along to follow the others down the bridge.

Uma rolled her eyes and hurried her pace, realizing that things were a lot more serious than she had thought, Mal hadn't even tried to start an argument, only focused on saving Auradon.

-end of p5-

part 5 yall!!!! the vks got the ember and mal discovered something new~!!! her dad! yeah in this Mal legit had no idea who her dad was, all she knew was that he was human and he was banished by her mother for his human weaknesses. so Mal thought her dad was a completely different person due to her mothers lies and just now found out it was a lie an all that. yeah bunch of shit XD so Ben is now a beast and Uma is here~!!!! hope yall enjoyed~!!

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[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

One Way Or Another

Request: Hi there, I was wondering if I could get a Professor Snape x reader please? Where the reader is a fellow professor who just started at Hogwarts & they're married but no one knows about it, not even Dumbledore. And as time goes on, staff gets suspicious as wherever reader is, Snape isn't far behind. Students gets suspicious as with reader around, Snape seems much more pleasant to be around & doesn't snap as much. Until one day, something happened revealing their relationship. Your choice. TQ x

Warnings: age gap(?), you’re 21 and Snape is 38 (book/movie canon age)

Note: colin creevey is alive in this!!! that b didn’t deserve to die so im bringing him back. also, sorry I’ve been MIA lately, I literally feel as if I’m losing sense of time during quarantine, lol. I hope you guys enjoy this! WEAR YOUR MASKS! 

-

It wasn’t very often that the students of Hogwarts saw Severus Snape smile; the times they did, it was probably when Slytherin won House Points or Gryfindor got in trouble for something. Either way, the chances of seeing him smile were incredibly rare.

Until you started teaching there.

Professor Flitwick had lived his prime, teaching Charms for a multitude of years and deciding to give his position to a student who graduated about 3 years ago. He remembered you, knowing you were top of his class and actually wanted to pursue a career in Charms later in life. So when he felt like his time was overspent at Hogwarts, an owl was sent your way immediately.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Severus was surprised at first when the letter for you arrived at his doorstep - you usually never get mail. However, when he saw who it was from, he was even more confused. Professor Flitwick?

Well yes, he knew you were top of Flitwick’s class - and his, too, if he wants to brag - but did you still keep in touch with him?

Somehow summoning you, you came in through the front door, carrying a couple bags worth from a few stores within Hogsmeade. You knew Diagon Alley would be crowded with new - and current students - looking for school supplies, so you decided to go to the small town instead.

Seeing your husband standing at the kitchen table looking at something quite confusingly, you set your bags down and headed over to him; “everything alright, my love?”

Taking a glance at what he was holding in his hands, you hummed, “ah, Professor Flitwick. He and I have been talking about me taking his place this year at Hogwarts.”

Severus glanced over at you as you took the envelope from his hands, “really? Darling, how come this is the first time I’m hearing this?”

You shrugged, “well I haven’t said yes yet, so I didn’t want you to get hopeful. . .or upset that I was even considering it.” Digging your nail into the crevis of the envelope, you slid it across, opening the letter.

Your husband tilted his head, “why would I be upset? I’d love to see you at work every day.”

Giggling, you set the letter down and wrapped your arms around your husband’s waist, “and have you give up your big, bad persona? People would know you’re a giant teddy bear, Severus!”

He frowned, but a playful grin played on his lips, “looks like nobody can know that we’re married then.” His hands played at your hair as you laughed.

“Does this mean I’ll have to temporarily go back to L/N?” you asked, sticking your bottom lip out.

Severus pulled you off his waist, “even Dumbledore doesn’t know that we are married, love. Looks like you’re Miss/Mister L/N on the streets, and -”

“Severus Snape, you finish that sentence and I will embarrass you in front of the whole school.”

You got back to Flitwick right away - and of course, the answer was yes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The first few months were a bit rocky, of course, as you couldn’t go and kiss your husband like it was any regular thing. Students knew Severus Snape as a brooding, angry, mean old man and it was a bit sad to see (and hear) the way they would talk and react to your husband.

You talked to him about it once before, suggesting that he just show them who he really is, that he isn’t what they say. But he always shook his head and said it never bothered him in the first place - so why change?

When you first started to get recognized by students, it was odd. You thought you’d be forgotten, or you were such an insignificant person in their lives that it truly wouldn’t matter if you were their new teacher or not. However, that wasn’t the case.

Students, especially 5th years, now 8th years, certainly remembered you for your Charms skill and increasing wins in duels around campus. It made you laugh - you forgot how careless you were. You’d have to ask Severus if that’s what attracted him to you in the first place.

Then, when students would start making comments about how much time you spent with Professor Snape did you realize how quickly your face flushes.

“He just needs a friend, is all,” you’d respond, making students raise an eyebrow.

Colin Creevey, an absolutely adorable little blonde-haired boy, always nodded along with you if your husband was ever brought up in conversation, “nobody deserves to sit alone at meals or have no friends.”

When that happened many times, you remember pulling Colin aside and having a conversation with him and saying how right he was - nobody deserved to have nobody.

Maybe it was a mistake telling poor wee Colin - the kid was known for taking pictures and writing articles about everybody and everything. However, he didn’t know any better. For sure, he thought everyone knew you and Severus were married - why would it be kept a secret?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You and Severus were in the library when you first began to hear the ruckus, the rumors, the whispers. Madam Pince had warned students several times about their volume, but the gossip they were hearing and spreading was just too good.

Once the whispers started to form into real words for you to hear, you were not expecting to hear the rumor - well, truth - that you and Professor Snape were married. 

Severus’ head picked up at the words while you looked anywhere but him, “oh, we’re married now, huh?”

You turned to your husband, “finding trustworthy kids nowadays is difficult.”

He snickered, “who’d you tell this awful little secret to, little dove?”

You played with a pencil in your hands, “Colin Creevey.”

Severus laughed, making a few students look over and do a double-take - why it was Professor Snape and Professor L/N - the two they were talking about. And Professor L/N just made Snape laugh? Was it true?

You smacked Severus’ arm, “would you shut it? I thought he was adorable - he always stuck up for you whenever others were trash-talking you.”

Your husband pulled you close to him, head resting on his clavicle, “I’m sorry, my love, but Creevey of all people? The little worm carries a camera with him everywhere.”

“And I have one right now, if you don’t mind!”

Severus and you jumped, not seeing Colin come up beside you both. Sitting up straight, you looked at Colin, “Colin, sweetheart, why would you go around telling everyone that Professor Snape and I are married?”

Colin looked confused, “well, I thought by the way you talked about him all the time, you’d want people to know. I think secrets only deserve to be kept quiet if they’re truly horrible things, but this shouldn’t be a secret.”

You looked at your husband who was already looking at you with adoration in his eyes, “do you care?”

Severus wrapped his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “all these buffoons already know, anyway. What does it matter?”

Colin brought his camera up to his face, “Professor Snape! Can you do that again, sir? This is the perfect picture.”

You giggled, feeling your husband’s hand sneak around your side and pull you even closer, his lips returning back to your cheek in a matter of seconds. Looking at the camera, a bright smile was on your face as the light flashed, hearing many “aww’s” resonate throughout the library.

Finally, you could go by Mrs/Mr. Snape - and not be afraid to tell anyone about it. I guess one way or another, people were going to find out - you’re just glad it happened like this.

[izabellq]

Costumes -> Tamaki Amajiki

summary: you accidentally match costumes with tamaki. prepare yourself for a whole day of endless shenanigans.

contains: MAJOR FLUFF, language if you squint (ik canonically, mirio is in 3-B, but for the sake of this plot, the big three are all in 3-A) also, i tried to make this gender-neutral, so if there’s any specified pronouns, let me know and i’ll fix it ASAP!

THIS IS MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL! (im very much aware i posted this a day late oop)

UA had decided to hold a special event where students could wear their Halloween costume to school. You weren’t planning anything special or unique, just something to get the job done. So, you decided to dress like a cute puppy. It was only a simple onesie: topped with cute floppy dog ears on your hood, and a tail that attached from the bottom. You weren’t expecting to get a lot of attention, which was perfectly fine with you because you were never the type to seek the stage. You topped off the simple look with a black spot on your nose and one around your eye. And just like, you were good to go.

When you walked into school, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit insecure. It seemed like everyone had decked out for this special occasion. You passed by some anime cosplay, food costumes, group oriented costumes — everything you could possibly think of. And as you made your way to your class, you wondered what Tamaki would be wearing.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was undeniably true that you had a rather large crush on him. Everything about him was enticing. He was so shy that it was usually you who initiated conversation, but that wasn’t enough to make you falter. You understood he wasn’t the most socially active person around. To be frank, it was rather comforting to know that not everyone at UA was a egotistical narcissist.

Finding your assigned seat, you scanned the class. Some of your peers also took the simple route which put some of your thoughts at ease. Others, the more competitive students, were quite impressive themselves.

You turn towards the doorway when Mirio’s booming voice gathers the room’s attention. He was wearing a... whoopie cushion? Oh dear lord. Mirio was a stickler for humor, so of course, he’d wear practically anything that could rise a laugh out of someone. Only, his jokes kind of sucked and no doubt would the class of 3-A be subject to awful fart jokes for the rest of the day. You weren’t so worried about that as you were worried about the two other students usually attached to his hip. One of them being Tamaki Amajiki.

The next one to stop into class was Nejire Hado who was absolutely breathtaking. Her costume, which was nothing more than a fairy, seemed to capture her true personality perfectly. Although, an angel would also be very accurate in her case. She turned towards the entrance way and stuck her head out into the hallway, “Tamaki! Don’t be shy! You look so cute!”

Your heart began to beat just a little bit faster.

“Mirio! Come help me out with him,” Nejire stomped into the hallway, the fluttering of her makeshift wings dissappeared, only to be followed by a laughing Mirio.

When they returned, their hands were clasped over Tamaki’s wrists, forbidding him from turning around and sulking out in the hallway. When you saw him, you’re taken aback. The smallest of gasps erupt from your lips when you notice his costume choice. A onesie, similar to yours, but instead of the dog ears; replaced with cat ones, and a longer tail attached to the back. He had the same minimal face paint (lined whiskers and a nose) as you did, curtesy of Nejire.

When he looked up, his cheeks were flamed with embarrassment. He found your gaze, and if it were possible, he became even more sheepish. You weren’t any different. The thought of having a matching costume with Tamaki, despite not having any prior arrangements, made you equally embarrassed. Now, all you wondered was, did he notice?

Well, if he didn’t before, he sure did now when Nejire spoke up, “Hey Y/N! Oh my– are you a puppy? How cute! Wait! You’re matching with Tamaki! Now you two look like an adorable couple!”

Her excitement, plus her lack of censorship, made the class laugh— everyone’s attention on you and Tamaki. “Nejire...” Tamaki muttered. He stared at the floor, wishing it’d just swallow him whole.

“You guys should take a picture together,” Mirio suggested, walking over to where you sat and giving you a hand. You hesitantly took it, positive that you looked about ready to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. In that order.

Dragged to stand next to Tamaki, you spare him a single glance. He has his left hand up to his face, doing a shoty job at covering his red cheeks. To you, he seemed... more embarrassed than usual? Perhaps he just didn’t wanted to match costumes with you. It saddened you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.

Nejire laughed, “Say cheese!”

Tamaki mumbled something that you could only assume was in response to Nejire. In a small pickle of confidence, you grabbed his hand and entangled your fingers with his just before the camera went off.

“Cheese!”

That was first period.

When lunch rolled around, Tamaki had face planted himself on the table.

Nejire and Mirio sent each other a knowing look before moving to console him.

“I don’t understand why you’re not happy, Tamaki! You’re matching costumes with them, you got a picture with them, and they also held your hand!” Nejire listed off the things that happened before the bell rang, signaling the start of first period.

“I am happy...” Tamaki muttered, lifting himself up from the table, “But they probably hate me now.”

“I wouldn’t say that!” Mirio added, “Haven’t I told you that they most definitely have a crush on you?”

“No offense Mirio... but I’m not too keen on taking advice from a literal walking whoopie cushion.” Tamaki propped his arm on the table, before leaning his head into the palm of his hand. The same one you had so eagerly held. He wished to repeat the notion a million more times. Only now, he was afraid he had messed up his one and only opportunity.

Mirio gasped, “I’ll have you know that I got many compliments today!”

Nejire giggled before turning back to Tamaki. “Why don’t we just call them over here?”

“I- um, no... I’d rather not do that,” Tamaki rushed out. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another awkward occurrence with you. You’d surely find him weird.

“Where are they anyways?” Mirio asked, not before sinking his teeth on the apple provided on his lunch tray.

“Oh I see them!” Nejire not-so-subtly pointed at you. Tamaki couldn’t help himself as he turned to look in your direction.

You were laughing at something someone had said before adding your own little quip. You were so cute, he thought. Nejire was the one who suggested he wear a cat-themed costume due to the running joke that he was a ‘cute little kitten’. He was prepared to arrive in his normal uniform but Nejire’s persistence was unwavering. And if he knew what you’d be wearing— would he have accepted the costume more easily? You deserved better than him, he knew, but a small part of him fantasized about the ways you’d love him in a way no one else had before.

“Earth to Tamaki,” Nejire sang, snapping him out of his thoughts. “They’re coming over here, straighten up!”

“Hey Y/N, care to sit?” Mirio asked.

Tamaki’s looking down by the time you got there, so he barely registers it when you sit beside him. Your shoulder rubs against his in brief contact and it makes him shudder. He hopes you didn’t notice.

“What’s up guys?” You brought over a juice box from your other table, sipping on the straw of your drink rather intently.

“Tell Tamaki that my costume is funny!” Mirio piped up, distracted from the match-making he was SUPPOSED to be doing.

You nervously giggled, “Well... your costume is certainly an attention-grabber!”

Mirio seemed pleased with that answer, not having considered the fact that you dodged the question the best way you knew how. Tamaki stared at you, adoration etched into his irises. He didn’t realize he had left out a soft laugh until you were staring at him.

He choked up, “Uh- sorry... I didn’t mean to laugh.”

You smiled, a picture definition of the word perfect. Everything about you, he loved. He just loved you in general. “You don’t need to apologize Tamaki! Your laugh is very cute!”

You pinched his cheek before continuing your previous conversation with Mirio and Nejire. Did you even realize what you were doing to him? He hid his face in his arms and rested on the lunch table. Tamaki knew his face was probably several shades of red and pink. He was only wondering how long it would take before you’d actually kill him with your presence.

And that concluded lunch.

The last period of the day came and went uneventfully. And soon enough, class 3A had returned to the dorms, agreeing to remain in their respective costumes until the clock striked midnight. Some students had decided to spend the night on a scary movie binge, while others payed no mind to the event by studying and finishing thier cumulated late assignments.

You on the other hand we’re stuck in the kitchen, preparing some coffee to get you through the night. Mirio and Nejire had wanted to pull an all-nighter as well, which meant you had to figure out a way to not fall alseep before midnight hit. You already had a messed up sleep schedule as it was, so one more added incentive should make the whole evening smooth sailing.

“Y-Y/N?”

You turn towards the kitchen doorway where Tamaki stood, a bit shellshocked from your presence. Still in that cat onesie, you could see his whiskers had become a bit smudged.

You smiled at him, an ache wrapped around your chest became noticeably present to you. “Amajiki! Shouldn’t you be up in Mirio’s room with Nejire? I’ll be up there in a second, I just gotta finish this.”

“Ah, well,” Tamaki moved into the kitchen, fidgeting with his fingers as he talked. “You were taking a while, so they sent me to check up on you. I’m glad you’re o-okay though.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, turning back to the light stirring of the coffee machine. Your fingers uncoordinatedly tapped the kitchen’s counter, a melodic beat strung to match your voice. Tamaki watched with amusement— nothing like the sight of you in your element could make him any happier.

Actually, there was one thing that would be slightly better.

Slowly, he approached you until he had occupied the space beside you. You noticed him almost immediately, but had pretended to take more interest in your coffee than him. Your heart rate picked up, leaving you to mentally curse your inability to remain calm.

“I have a question,” His voice was hushed, a bit unsure of itself. You turned to look at him but his vision remained on the counter.

“What’s up?” When the coffee machine stilled, you pulled your mug out and carefully placed it in front of you. The smell of the roasted beans infiltrated your nostrils and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Do you- I mean... I think I’m... no that’s not right. I think it’d better if I just show you...” He bit the inside of his lip, whilst finally mustering the courage to look at you. You’re eyes were widened with curiosity, the reflection of the night settling in your skin.

He moves slightly closer, and when you don’t move away, he softly places his hand on your cheek, angling your face so your centimeters away from each other. Tamaki tries to speak, but he honestly didn’t even think he’d get this far. He’s left utterly speechless. Perhaps if Fatgum were here, he’d supply him with the confidence he needed to pull this off. His anxiety-prone thoughts began to take initiative and he starts to pull away, believing to have bit off more than he could chew. He really did believe you deserved better than him.

But your still there. You’ve always been there. In more ways than one. You grip the front of his onesie and pull him back to his previous spot. His hand recupped your face, and you take this opportunity of surprise to place your lips on his. Nothing more than a second long, only the brush of your lips before the tingling sensation had dissappeared all together.

It wasn’t enough. For either of you. You can’t remember who surged forward first, but it couldn’t have mattered less. The only thing that was being even remotely processed was the heat of your frenzied kisses. Tamaki poured all of his emotions into that moment; from the way he felt when seeing you in your puppy onesie to the butterflies that clouded his mind whenever he thought of you.

You were the first to pull back out of breath. You don’t care that your makeup is beyond repair, or that his is either. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you muttered six words into the smooth crevice of his skin, completely forgetting about the coffee you were prepping for yourself. “I love you, I always have.”

Tamaki smiled, though the nervousness hadn’t completely disappeared. “I love you too.” He admitted, feeling his heart flutter at the mutual affection. It wasn’t one-sided after all, not one bit.

Maybe he ought to take more advice from his friend the whoopie cushion.

Then again, maybe not.

“There waiting for us you know,” Your voice was a bit muffled, having been the after-effect of hiding your face in his neck. He understood you perfectly nonetheless.

“They can wait a little longer,” His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer.

“Kiss me again,” You pleaded.

And so, he did just that.

CHECK OUT MASTERLIST HERE!

[babi-correia]

You’re My Sunshine

From Anon:

Hey girl! Would you mind doing another Jay Halstead pr maybe Jesse Lee Soffer imagine/one shot*? Maybe being the hidden girlfriend? Thanks hun!

Words: 2147 Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, canonical violence Pairing: Jay Halstead x Officer!Reader A/N: This ask has two viable one shots, actually. I did this one now, but I’ll probably pick up the JLS sometime in the future. Hope you like it, hun!

Deep down, both of you knew this day would come. The day when Voight barked out to bring a uniform up for an undercover stint, and the Intelligence member brought you up. 

Jay tries to interfere and go with Adam as he goes to get one of the officers down at the lobby, but Voight quickly shuts him down, remembering him that Adam knew the suspect's type better than Jay. His jaw clenches and his hands close into fists as Adam goes down the stairs, already knowing you are going to be the one he brings up. 

The two of you have been dating for a few months, and Jay liked having you to himself. By hiding your relationship, not only are the two of you not in the public eye for dating each other - the last thing you need is someone calling you a badge bunny and saying you're sleeping with Jay to climb the hierarchy - but you are also out of the line of immediate danger that comes with dating a law enforcement agent, inevitably becoming a target.

At first, Jay wasn't very keen on the idea of you: a new cop with shiny eyes and hope in the world; he knew you would be shattered by the job, and he didn't want to watch it. But then he started warming up to you. He couldn't pin down what you had done exactly, if it was how you refused to drop your kindness with Platt, or how you could offer an input that he hadn't seen, or how you would charge in, gun in hand with unwavering intent when someone's life was at risk... it was probably how you didn't try to take pity in him or treat him like a baby when you saw him having a particularly nasty flashback that made him freeze in the middle of the locker room. You had just grabbed his hands in yours and gently coaxed him out, giving him the visual help of the "Chicago Police Department" badge on your vest - you would never know how much it meant to him. 

He had seen your determination falter over the time, but he always tried to make you get back up on the positivity horse; secretly, it kept him going too, the idea that someone could see so much good in the world and still believe in the best possible outcome. It was something rare and precious, in your line of work. 

So, when Adam comes back to the bullpen with you in tow, Jay feels like punching him. He feels like going out on a solo manhunt and face the consequences of it, if it means that you won't be brought into this case. But he watches you walk into Voight's office and nod after the Sergeant explains what he called you up for. He knows that you would never refuse the opportunity to help other people - that's why you had become an officer in the first place.

He sits in his chair, resigned, as he watches you and Voight leave the office. 

"So, officer (Y/L/N) will go undercover as an immigrant that needs help getting the rest of her family inside, no matter the cost." Voight says, pointing at the board. The pictures of 7 women are pinned in, their faces stuck in an eery, eternal smile, unknowing of the atrocities that committed against them. All they wanted was to give their families a better life.

Jay meets you in the locker room after he makes sure that no one saw the two of you entering, and crosses his arms. 

"There's no chance I'm talking you out of this, is there?" He asks, his voice small and defeated. You turn back, already wearing your civilian clothes, and give him a reassuring smile as you lay your hands atop his forearms. 

"I'm a good cop, and this will be over quickly." You say, lightly rubbing his arms. "It has to be done, they can't keep killing these women."

"What if something happens?" He asks, his brows furrowed - you don't quite grasp the seriousness and danger of this, and it worries him deeply. "It's more dangerous than you think."

"Jay... I've been a cop in Chicago for a while. A beat cop. I'm cussed at and thrown things at for existing. There, I'm going to be a girl that they're going to underestimate. The only way this can go wrong is if they figure out I'm a cop, and that's a risk every undercover takes, and that you have also taken several times." You grab his face. "It's going to be ok."

-

Unintentionally, you had jinxed yourself in your conversation with Jay. Not in a thousand years would you have thought that the measly drug dealer you arrested a couple weeks ago would be involved with a human trafficking ring, and when he saw you, you knew it was over. He shouted to everyone how you were a "pig", how you were there to arrest them all. You had stood your ground, unwavering, claiming you had never seen him before in your life and had no idea what he was blabbering about, but no one bought it. They ganged up on you and you knew that resistance was futile and would only hurt you further.

And now, 3 days later, here you are. Bruised, bloody, sweaty, laying on the cement floor of an abandoned warehouse somewhere by the river, in between torture sessions. The big boss doesn't know who you work for - all he knows is that you're with law enforcement. He's too paranoid and knows that CPD isn't the only one after him, and even though he knows you're CPD, he has no idea if you're working directly for them or if you've been "scouted" by a bigger agency. 

Your mind rarely leaves your memories of Jay, trying to isolate and disassociate yourself from the prodding metal and angry fists connecting with the several different parts of your body. A small part of you hangs on to hope that Jay and the rest of Intelligence are coming for you, but the bigger part tells you that they either won't make it in time, or that they think you're already dead. 

The footsteps in the hallway drag you out of your thoughts and you raise bloodshot eyes to glare at the grunt in front of you. He hastily pulls you up by one arm and drags you into another room, different from the one you had been beaten in. There's a hook hanging from the ceiling, but there's also a chair and some blades arranged neatly by the chair. The thing that jumps at you is the camera standing in the corner of the room, hooked to a computer, and aimed at the hook and chair. The grunt stands with you by the door as the boss walks into the room, walking with his usual swagger towards the camera.

"Since I don't know who my little toy is working for, here's what is going on: to whom it may concern, this bitch is at my mercy, and either her employer comes forward, or I'm going to kill her." He says darkly as the grunt drags you into further inside, near the hook. 

You put on your best brave face as he hangs you in the hook by the bindings on your wrists. Your shoulders scream at you but you refuse to show pain. The boss sits on the chair next to you and the grunt leaves, making it just the two of you in the room. He grabs a small, yet sharp blade from the assortment and turns to you, smirking darkly. 

"So, I'll ask you again. Who are you working for?" 

"Your mom." You spit at him, biting your tongue to not cry out when the blade cuts across the skin in your stomach.

-

The mug in Jay's hand hits the floor the second he sees the screen of his computer taken over by a video of a dark, grimy room, with you hanging from a hook and a slimy-looking guy in a suit passing around you with a large blade in hand. 

He knew to fear something bad when they stopped getting the daily debriefs from you, but part of him had been influenced by you into thinking it was the best-case scenario: maybe you had gone deep to the point of not being able to contact them, but were about to resurface with enough evidence to nail every single interferent in the trafficking ring. He feels his heart sink to his stomach and his legs threaten to give out as his gaze fixates on the screen. Your face is bloody and bruised, along with the rest of your body, but your expression is one of stubbornness; whatever the guy is asking of you, you're not complying. 

"This would all be over much quicker if you told me who you're working for." The guy snarks, and your expression remains unchanging.

"We both know you're going to kill me either way, just get it over with. Besides, I already told you I'm working for your mom." His fist connects with your ribs and you give out a pained chuckle. Jay's fists close up as anger begins to boil and cloud his head. "Or maybe for Brutus over there. Maybe you're his Ceasar, and he's waiting for the right chance to stab you in the back thirty times. Now seems like a good time, Brutus."

Voight bolts out of his office, vest on one hand, and a post-it note on the other. 

"A contact of mine got me an address. Let's role." He barks out sternly. Jay bolts out behind him and the whole team gets in the armory, putting on their vests and grabbing their choice of weapon before getting into the cars and driving towards the address Voight's contact had given him. 

Jay checks his three guns yet again: one Glock 19 in his hip holster, one Glock 17 in his thigh holster, and an AK-47 in his hand. He knows every moment from breach is going to count, and the longer they take to get to you, the worse the outcome can be. 

The car comes to a stop and he turns off the security in the AK, rolling his shoulders as he steps out of the car and stealths towards one of the entrances. He peeks through a window, seeing two grunts. He gestures what he saw towards the rest of the team and prepares for breach, kicking in the door when Voight says so. 

He feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins and doesn't stop until he's passed the guarded area. The hallways are silent and he strains his ears, trying to pick up something, anything that will guide him to you. 

In the room, you're still dangling from the ceiling when the loud noises snap the guy from yet another monologue about how it would be easier for you to just give up and blah blah blah. Honestly, you had started to tune out the moment he opened his mouth, already knowing some variation of what was about to leave his lips.

"Go check out whatever that was!" He barks at the grunt, making you focus on the door as the other man exits through it. Before you realize what's happening, a shot rings out and the grunt falls back into the room, making the boss jump in fright. You see Jay slowly stepping over the body, AK steadily trained on the suited guy standing by your legs. 

"If you move another inch, I'm blowing your brains out." Jay growls out as the other man tries to reach for the gun on the chair. "My finger is feeling very, very trigger-happy, and I just need you to give me a reason to give it what it wants."

You feel tears prickling at your eyes, both of joy and of pent up frustration and fear, flinching when you see the man moving towards his gun and Jay delivering a clean shot to his chest, dropping him to the floor instantly. 

The AK hits the floor with a clatter before Jay rushes to you, unhooking you and lowering you to the floor before wrapping you in a bear hug. You feel yourself starting to sob as you hide your face on his neck, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped by Jay and his scent surrounding you. 

"I would die happy if I died like this." You mutter into his neck, feeling him chuckle as he pulls away.

"You're not dying anytime soon, I'll waltz in and save you every time." Jay says, retrieving his AK and slinging it over his chest before he picks you up. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me."

[dweemeister]

Melody Time (1948)

Disengaged and disinterested, Walt Disney was adrift at his own studio in the late 1940s. The studio’s modestly-budgeted package animated features were designed to save it from financial ruin. Yet, they required artistic and storytelling compromises that Disney was loathe to make. In this period, Disney shuffled personnel around the various departments – whether due to personal conflicts or dissatisfaction with their artistic approach on a certain film. Melody Time’s segments are of varying quality and limited experimentation, reflecting the organizational tumult within the studio. No standout moment exists in Melody Time, even though it is more energetic and looser than the preceding Fun and Fancy Free (1947).

The modern Walt Disney Company has advertised Melody Time as a film, “in the grand tradition of Disney’s greatest musical classics, such as Fantasia.” Audacious comparison to make, but functionally inaccurate. Fantasia, as imagined by Walt Disney, Deems Taylor, Leopold Stokowski, and the studio’s animators, was crafted so that its animation would empower the music (in cinema, the reverse – where music serves the action on-screen – is almost always a filmmaker’s approach). The reverse of that relationships holds here. Melody Time contains these seven segments, or “mini-musicals”: “Once Upon a Wintertime”, “Bumble Boogie”, “The Legend of Johnny Appleseed”, “Little Toot”, “Trees”, “Blame It on the Samba”, and “Pecos Bill”. Some of these mini-musicals are more watchable and more artistically interesting than others – although that standard is relatively low in Melody Time.

“Once Upon a Wintertime” is based on an overused Disney narrative template that never ceases to be a bore. A young couple are out and about, flirting and flitting, all while the woodland animals scurrying back and forth mirror human courtship. The segment, however, is partially redeemed by Frances Langford singing the segment’s title song (composed by Bobby Worth and Ray Gilbert) and the unmistakable influence of Mary Blair (1950’s Cinderella, the “It’s a Small World” attraction at Disneyland in Anaheim) in its aesthetic. With any piece of animation involving Mary Blair, one can expect an eye-catching use of color and her modernist art style. “Once Upon a Wintertime” is like a holiday card brought to animated life. Unlike a picturesque and meaningful holiday card, though, it overstays its welcome. But the stereotypical treatment of the young women appearing in “Once Upon a Wintertime” is, to put it mildly, clichéd writing at best. Hackneyed, too, is the fact that the woodland animals come to the human’s rescue.

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s Flight of the Bumblebee is one of the most recognizable (and overplayed) pieces of Western classical music, even to those folks who go out of their way to announce their distaste for classical music. Given a jazz rendition by the Freddy Martin Orchestra, “Bumble Boogie” is a thankfully brief three-minute foray. Here, an insect (that does not seem anything like a bee) flies through a series of surreal images – mostly parts of musical instruments (piano keys in particular) – that it must avoid. The segment is visually entertaining to watch, even if it must have been the easiest to prepare, design, and animated for in all of Melody Time. If placed in either Fantasia or Fantasia 2000, it would easily be the weakest Fantasia segment ever produced.

Third in the film is a segment that feels most like a classic Disney production. “The Legend of Johnny Appleseed” is Disney’s glorified and sanitized take on the eponymous American pioneer, nurseryman, conservationist, and missionary. Walt’s personal ideology and perspective on American history included the fulfillment of Manifest Destiny and the taming of the nation’s wilds as among humanity’s greatest achievements. These are notions that Walt – through his films, theme parks, television shows, and public and private remarks – never questioned. Narrated and with Johnny Appleseed voiced by Dennis Day, there is a sincerity to Johnny’s characterization not present anywhere else in the movie. Again, Mary Blair’s artwork – this time, her forested backgrounds – appears as if heaven-sent. The umbrella-like canopy of the apple trees and “untamed” forests are inviting, and attract one’s eyes upward – towards the apples, paradise.

The title song (sometimes referred to as “The Lord is Good to Me”) featured in the opening moments of “The Legend of Appleseed” is one of the earliest – and one of the few – mentions or depictions of religious faith in a Disney animated work. It reinforces the mythos that surrounds Johnny Appleseed (and, by extension, the belief that white men are divine heroes for civilizing the lands west of the original Thirteen Colonies) to the present day. I was not raised in any of the Abrahamic religions, but it difficult to deny the simple charm of the title song and this segment – even if it endorses a troublesome perspective on American history. “The Legend of Johnny Appleseed” is the best segment of Melody Time – from its unassuming storytelling and wondrous animation. It is the only Melody Time segment that I could possibly envision as a decent feature-length animated film.

Based on a 1939 children’s picture book of the same name Hardie Gramatky, “Little Toot” is a chore to sit through. The segment shares similar narrative and aesthetic tissue with Saludos Amigos’ (1942) “Pedro”, which concerned an anthropomorphic mail airplane that thinks it could. Along the Hudson River in New York City, Little Toot is a tiny tugboat who aspires to be like his father Big Toot. Just as in “Pedro”, this is a case of an anthropomorphized vehicle child who attempts to assume adult responsibility in order to prove that they can perform tasks as well as the adults can. Given that Little Toot is a meddling prankster playing tugboat games, it is difficult to feel much sympathy when he finally faces the consequences of his actions – which probably includes calamitous infrastructural damage and human casualties. Of course, Little Toot is eventually redeemed through some heroic deeds. All of the tugboats will love him, as they belt out with glee that Little Toot will go down in history. The segment is grating, including the novelty title song sung by The Andrews Sisters. Aside from some fascinating water effects, there is not much that “Little Toot” offers in the way of animated interest. Otherwise, it is least interesting segment of the film.

The palate-cleanser is “Trees”, a four-minute segment based on Joyce Kilmer’s poem of the same name (music composed by Oscar Rasbach and performed by Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians). Its aesthetic harkens back to a few seconds near the end of the “Ave Maria” in Fantasia, but otherwise “Trees” is distinct from anything else that has appeared in the Disney animated canon. When setting to work on “Trees”, layout artist Ken O’Connor (1941’s Dumbo, 1987’s The Brave Little Toaster) found himself enamored by the concept art, and endeavored to be a faithful to the style set by the concept art as possible. To do this, O’Connor frosted cels before drawing pastel images onto the cel. Before being photographed by the studio’s multiplane camera, each cel was laminated in clear lacquer to prevent the pastel from smudging. Thanks to O��Connor’s experimentation, “Trees”, however fleeting, lays claim to some of the most beautiful animation among all of the package Disney animated features.

“Blame it on the Samba” sees a reunion of Donald Duck and Brazilian parrot José Carioca (Saludos Amigos, 1944’s The Three Caballeros) are walking about, depressed, directionless. Suddenly, they encounter the Aracuan Bird (who debuted in The Three Caballeros), who whisks them inside a cocktail that introduces them to the rhythmic pleasures of the samba. The segment’s title song is based on Ernesto Nazareth’s polka Apanhei-te, Cavaquinho, sung by The Dinning Sisters with adapted English lyrics, and accompanied by organist Ethel Smith (who appears as herself).

“Blame it on the Samba” feels like it should have been featured in either Saludos Amigos or The Three Caballeros – and that was the intention exactly. Intended to appear in Saludos Amigos, “Blame it on the Samba” was animated and completed in time for it to be incorporated in The Three Caballeros. Given Donald Duck’s lust for human women in the second half of the latter movie, “Blame it on the Samba” might have otherwise been a serviceable penultimate number in that film. The segment is an explosion of color, a kick in the rear for a movie that feels much longer than its seven-five-minute runtime might suggest. And yet in a segment for a music genre innovated in Brazil and popularized by Brazilians, the performers and the performance lack any discernible Brazilian influence or roots. This is not samba music. Instead, it is the culmination of what a white American might think samba music sounds like. This unfortunate development probably would have been avoided entirely if “Blame it on the Samba” appeared in those two aforementioned films instead.

“Pecos Bill”, based on the Texan folk hero of the same name, makes reference to American Indians in ghastly ways. Simultaneously, its absurd humor and lack of fidelity to sensible human behavior and physics make it a delight to watch. The segment also boasts the presence of Roy Rogers and the Pioneers (and Rogers’ horse, Trigger). Child actors Luana Patten and Bobby Driscoll, both of whom had just starred in Song of the South (1946), make brief appearances in the segment’s hybrid animation/live-action introduction. Rogers, then contracted to Republic Pictures, was one of the quintessential stars of the singing cowboy subgenre – singing cowboy movies were almost exclusively made by the “Poverty Row” studios including Republic, and they were extremely profitable against their barebones budgets). “Pecos Bill” all begins with the atmospheric, moody “Blue Shadows on the Trail”. “Blue Shadows on the Trail” describes and, through its spare instrumentation, reflects the emptiness and desolation of the American West. It is a beautiful ballad, and could easily be placed in any Western (singing cowboy movies or otherwise).

Once the hybrid animation/live-action introduction concludes, “Pecos Bill” steams forward with comic hyperbole followed by another comic hyperbole. The title song (music by Eliot Daniel, lyrics by Johnny Lange) doubles down on the exaggerations. Those exaggerations include the segment’s constant gunplay – escaping censorship from the Hays Code: a risqué gag that includes Pecos Bill’s guns going off because of love interest Slue Foot Sue. At least Melody Time ends brashly and riotously, but any impressionable children watching will require a discussion from a trusted adult. Its depictions of American Indians and men-women relations are deplorable, but after just over an hour of inconsistent quality, I found myself enjoying “Pecos Bill” more than I imagined.

Shortly after the release of Melody Time, Walt Disney embarked on a three-week cruise to Hawai’i. Walt rarely went vacationing, and he spent these weeks fully concentrating on his family and escaping from the minutiae of managing his studio. Even after returning from Hawai’i, Walt did not spend much time in Burbank. Walt invited animator and fellow train enthusiast Ward Kimball on a trip to the Midwest. Together, they attended the 1948 Chicago Railroad Fair, visited the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan, and stopped at other locations close to Walt’s childhood in the Midwest. Through the end of 1948, Walt spent more time constructing the train set in his backyard than paying attention to the animation and live-action movies his studio was producing. What seemed like idleness to many (including New York Times film critic Bosley Crowther, who believed that Disney was a cinematic genius wasting his time on quixotic projects) was a major inspiration for a draft sketch entitled “Mickey Mouse Park”, dated August 31, 1948.

The package era at Walt Disney Productions (now Walt Disney Animation Studios) was nearing its end. Every film during this run – Saludos Amigos (1942), The Three Caballeros (1944), Make Mine Music (1946), Fun and Fancy Free (1947), Melody Time, and The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949) – faced the same narrative of Walt Disney’s personal indifference to the projects, a lack of direction and motivation among the animators, and audience and critic dissatisfaction when compared to Disney’s Golden Age movies. A return to non-package animated features would be imminent, in spite of Melody Time’s mediocre performance at the box office. The Disney studios would attempt to begin a period of renewal with a tradition that inaugurated their animated canon – with a fairy tale.

My rating: 6/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[mikasuxxx]

gimme more head canons about Ana & Jackie and their Seed spawn pls

Absolutely!

Jackie

When Jackie found out that she was pregnant with Jake's kid, she was absolutely terrified

She locked herself in the bathroom for a while, and was having a panick attack, trying to process the fact that she is pregnant.

She was not ready to be a mom. She wanted to wait until her and Jacob's relationship was fully stable.

She didn't tell him, because she was worried about how he would react, but was also worried about him as a whole.

Jackie seen what Jacob is capable of, and she'd be lying if she said that the idea of him being a father worries her.

She was going to hold off on telling him for a few weeks until she felt ready. But she started showing strong symptoms, having morning sickness most mornings, nausea, headaches, and hell, Jacob even noticed that her moods switched very often and she started having cravings.

Then it became unavoidable when he questioned her about it, and she ended up coming clean, not being able to look him in the eye for more than a few seconds.

but oh boy was he happy. He was so happy, he hugged her so tight and started laughing, kissing her face all over, something extremely unusual for him. But nonetheless, she was relieved

He loved seeing her walking around carrying his baby. But she hated being pregnant since most of her clothes started getting too small for her, and her cravings got more intense. But she was also experiencing more contractions and back pains that had her bed bound for hours

Overall those 9 months were very rocky and hard on both Jaqueline and Jacob. They had their ups and downs, and had lots of arguments that even ended up with them sleeping in separate beds.

But they made up eventually, like always. And before they even knew it, their baby was born

You know how i said Jackie is small? yeah...Well that wasnt something she considered when she was having a baby with a man thrice her size was

The baby comes out chunky, and somewhere around 8-10 lbs. It was a boy, and he had obnoxiously bright red tufts of hair that resembled his dads. Jacob was definitely proud.

Jacob would hold his baby boy and look down at him with the most happy and proud look you've ever seen– not even his brothers saw him this happy before.

Their son sleeps in a small crib right next to their bed because 1. jacob is overprotective over his spawn 2. so its easier for jackie to take care of him when he starts crying in the middle of the night.

Jacob's nightmares/ night terrors lessen by a lot after his son is born. He actually does get some sleep sometimes. But when he doesn't, it's mostly because of the baby, rather than his PTSD.

He wouldn't let anyone outside his family see his soft side because "it makes him weak", but really he just wants to bond with his family in peace

Whenever Jackie is too busy or sick to take care of the baby, Jacob brings takes care of him for the day. He even brings him to meetings with him

Okay but like can you imagine Jacob doing one of his PowerPoint slides while holding his baby in one arm?? And maybe even has his little carrier thing on the floor next to his chair in case he gets sleepy??

he even lowers his voice while talking so he won't wake him up

Jacob is actually pretty excited to introduce his baby to his siblings.

Joseph is so happy with the baby, he holds him with a smile. He loves how he resembles Jacob so much, and he even thinks that he is a gift from god. Faith absolutely adores the baby, and she even brough him some new plushies and clothes. John also brings stuff for the baby (stuff that he may or may have not stolen from the Ryes) And when he holds the baby he feels happiness and joy, but isn't showing it much. spoiler: this is the moment John gets baby fever

But anyway, Jacqueline and Jacob do live pretty peacefully with their baby for a while. Jacob, for the first time in what seems like years, can finally settle down and be happy

Anastasia

You know how i said john got baby fever from seeing Jacob's baby? He suggests it to Ana, and she agrees

She wanted to wait a bit until everything was settled in term of getting her work sorted out when EG finally takes over Hope County

except she ended up getting pregnant, on accident, a bit earlier than anticipated (The seeds really don't know what a condom is huh)

It was a surprise, not unwelcome, but a surprise to say the least

To say that John was happy was an understatement, he was absolutely joyful, so much so that he couldn't even process the news Ana just told him. He ended up having a very delayed reaction

"John, you oka-"

"HOLY FUCK WE'RE HAVING A BABY?!!?"

In short, John couldn't get his hands off her, and kept smooching her and hugging her close for the rest of the day.

Ana and John agreed to keep it a secret from everyone else until they found the right time for it

But John being John couldn't contain his excitment, and he may have ended up telling a few of his men. Which promptly ended with the whole county finding out that the youngest seed and his wife were expecting

His siblings were very happy with the news, though they didn't like that everyone else in the county found out before they did.

Joseph is now fully convinced that god blessing his family for all their suffering.

During the pregnancy, John continues to spoil Ana despite her telling him not to spend too much of their money on her, but rather on the baby and the project. That was ignored though.

lol Ana ended up looking like Mrs Puff in that sponegbob episode where Mr. Krabs spoiled tf out of her

John absolutely goes all out for the baby. He sticks the ultrasound pictures on the fridge, even the earliest ones where the baby still looks very teeny tiny. basically makes a big deal out of it every time

He may or may have not thrown a huge, very decorated gender reveal party for the baby (which may or may have not started a small fire and burned some poor farmers' crops. Thanks John)

Like Jacob and Jackie, they find out that they're having a boy as well.

The baby shower is even more exaggerated. There's lots of cake and decorations, and gifts, and John even films it so they could look back at it in the future with their son.

He contantly zooms in on his family members and points at them, talking about them as if he's talking to his kid

"Thats your uncle Jacob there, He could be a jackass sometimes but he means well" and jacob just gives him a "don't start" look

"This is your aunt Faith, she's nice, but not really though." Faith initially smiles at first but her smile disappears very quickly

"Your uncle Joseph here loves you so much, and he can't wait to see you. We're all excited to see you" And Joseph smiles and waves at the camera

Months pass, and the baby is here!

John demands to be with Ana when she goes into labor so he could assist and comfort her. She holds his hand pretty tight though, almost breaking it

Thankfully, the baby was surprisingly small, and the labor was less painful compared to Jackie's. Still fucking painful though.

John straight up cried when he saw and held his son for the first time. Ana was laughing, but also cried with him. So they were both looking down at the baby and crying tears of joy. Just a wholesome family moment

John is actually a very good dad. He takes care of the kid, holds him when he's fussing, plays with him, and hands him to Ana whenever he thinks he's hungry

One night she woke up to the sound of the baby crying, only to go and find John already in the baby's room, carrying him and rocking him around. Made her heart melt to say the least

John and Jacob's kids definitely play together on the weekends when they're a little bit older. And because of that Jacob and John actually get to see each other more. They definitely brought the whole family together even closer 💕

But yeah, that was too long. I got too invested lol. Thanks for the ask @scungilliwoman

[marshmallowprotection]

How would jumin asking bora if he could adopt her happen? And how would he come the the conclusion that this is what he wanted?

8Okay! So, if you don’t know about Bora’s timeline, let me break it down for you so this is clearer! Before any of the events of any canon occur, Bora is brought to Rika’s former apartment because she dared to trust the kindness of a stranger that just wanted her help. 

She lucks out and gets out of the cold but as soon as she is relieved, she realized the door locked behind her with an electric keypad, and the phone that she found abandoned sounded off in her hand. She finds a phone, rather than having her own if that’s not clear. She drops it and catches it before it hits the ground. 

She stares at it as another chatroom opens up and there’s the RFA. They’re quick to find out that she’s an intruder but she tries to politely explain that she was just helping out a stranger who asked for her help, and that’s when Seven checks the camera in the apartment. He nearly has a heart attack himself cause’ he realizes that Bora is a kid. 

Someone tricked a helpless kid and they actually listened. 

This is everything that parents are supposed to warn you about. She lies to them in the chatroom and says that she found this phone abandoned in the park and decided to help the stranger out. She won’t talk about her family or anything. It’s obviously a lie, but they can’t ignore that there’s a kid that almost got put into danger! There is a hacker that wanted to do something with Rika’s apartment and endangered a kid of all people. 

So, they can’t ignore that. 

They cannot get ahold of V, so Seven decides to call her to make sure that she’s okay. He knows that she must be afraid because the door locked her in, and he can fix that with ease. He figures that might her easier for her to do instead of talking in the chatroom where there are too many people and too much to say to all of them. 

So, they chat on the phone and he manages to coax her to tell him the truth about what happened and what her name is so that he can help her out. She’s not in any trouble or anything, he promises. Bora quietly admits that the hacker promised that this was a place to stay out of the cold and nobody lived there and she was too cold not to take him up on the offer. She knows that was kind of... stupid to do but she hadn’t been able to stay with the elderly couple that she’d be helping in exchange for a roof over her head since they went to stay with their kids on the other side of the country. 

So, she admits that she’d be sleeping in the park. Seven understands the spot that she’s in but he doesn’t want to press Bora, he just asks if she ran away for a good reason, and Bora hesitates, but says, “Yes. I can’t go back. I’m in danger if I go back.” 

Seven promises her that she’s safe in the apartment for the night and that he’ll be over in a bit with dinner. Bora’s quiet voice cracks for the first time, and she’s in a bit of a panic, “You’re going to make me go back home, are you?” and he promises that he won’t make her go back anywhere that she’s not safe. He is quick to research her background and he starts putting the pieces together real fast. 

Her parents never posted about their daughter, and their page was loaded with memorials to her brother. The only time that she was mentioned was when she did something outstanding. It was like these people only saw their children as a medal to flash at the world. It left a sour taste in his mouth, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to put her back in that. 

None of them would. 

Still, he has to get in touch with the others because they’ve got a hacker on their hands, it’s the middle of winter, and this kid is clearly a victim. 

He still can’t get ahold of V but he can get in touch with Jumin and that’s his next best bet in terms of getting things that need to be settled fast. So, he and Jumin spend a while on the phone talking about this, rather seriously. Bora clearly has been dodging protective services for a reason and even though there’s no missing person’s report, she wouldn��t be hiding without a good reason. She can’t stay in the apartment by herself, she’s a kid. He needs to inspect her phone to see what happened as well. 

Jumin offers to let her stay with him for the time being, he has the most armed protection and nobody would dare try to go near his penthouse. It’s the best idea at the time, and once the winter holidays have settled, they can see what the best course of action would be to get Bora to someone that can actually help her get where she needs to be. 

Seven spends a while that evening proving that she can trust him and it hurts him to see a kid that so small and hiding it underneath whatever heavy layers she can find. She doesn’t have a lot with her in her bag, just some spare clothes, a few books, and a picture frame of herself and her brother. Bora won’t stop calling him Mr., for example, she’s prone to always addressing people with titles and respect, her eyes never leaving the floor. He remembers being like that and it stings. 

He promises that he’s going to do what he can to help her, and she decided to trust him. He escorts her over to Jumin’s penthouse not long after that and that starts the first arc of Bora’s story. She’s quiet and hardly makes a peep. She’s almost like a ghost that Jumin doesn’t know is in the house. She’s always very respectful to him and bows her head whenever he comes home and greets her, and though he’s a bit stiff himself, he tries to make her feel welcome by allowing her to do as she wants. 

She hardly takes him up on the offer, though. She tends to hardly eat and sleep most of the time. He does make sure that someone is checking up on her over the phone often and that she has things to do. She spends most of her time with Elizabeth, wondering what she got involved in and if this is too good to be true or something. 

She loosens up a little bit over the weekends when Jumin isn’t working and they have more time to talk together about this and that. He catches her laughing a bit at something in the chatroom and he can get her to slowly warm up to him over that, and through Elizabeth. Elizabeth really grounds her and helps her feel more like she can open up, and Jumin has to say that he’s never seen her warm up to anyone so fast before. 

Anyone that Elizabeth likes cannot be a bad person. She’s just this kid that’s been hurt in ways that he can’t imagine. Jumin isn’t the best at comfort but he's doing his best. Bora knows that because he’s always so nice! It’s when she starts having night terrors and dread late at night that he realizes that he’s very painfully out of his element but he wants to learn. Luciel and Zen offer him a lot of advice and he starts to realize that... his own life hadn’t exactly been all that grand, either. 

He builds on those times when he had been uneasy and offers to rationalize Bora’s fears when she’s frightened. There’s a lot of nights where she’s huddled in her blanket, scared of what might happen, while Jumin does what he can to help her feel okay. Be it reading to her or talking, and he finds that the longer that he’s around Bora, the more and more of his life is changing. 

He can’t really imagine this kid not being around the penthouse. Sure, he doesn’t know anything about being a parent! But, you know what, he feels like he’s done something good whenever Bora laughs and smiles in the kitchen when she tries to bake something or open up to him, or even the others on the phone. He realizes that she’s sort of wormed her way into his heart and while they all fully intended to get her to a family that would love her, she’s already found a family. 

So, yeah, he decides that he’ll adopt her and make sure that she’s never scared ever again. It’s kind of a big moment for him. He just wants to make sure that he never sees her terrified ever again. Jihyun even comments that he seems a lot more open with his own feelings lately and that the change suits him. So, yeah, he winds up asking Bora if she would like to stay and if she’d like to be adopted.

It’s her choice, ultimately.

And sometime after this is when she’s adopted, and she’s finally free from the fear that she had. That’s when the events of Mystic Messenger begin. Her story follows the path of the entire game in order accordingly: Jumin > Jaehee > Zen > Yoosung > Seven > Secret Ending. This is a found family AU and it’s built upon that feeling that everyone in the RFA figures out that they’re all a family together and that’s why I think people enjoy this so much.

No romance involved, obviously, unless my other MCs get involved, in which case that would mean Saeran and Saeyoung are spoken for, haha! 

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [4]

Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 4.5 OR Chapter 5

➜ Words: 4.9k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

Your breath is held in your throat. The phone rings.   It continues, the ringback tone dragging on and on like a terrible song of suspense.   Then, it stops. Your breath catches in your throat. There’s a crisp voice on the other end. “Ya-llow?”   “Hi.” You swallow hard, trying to collect your wits, but it takes too long.   “Hello?”   “Yes, s-sorry. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N. I was wondering if you guys were having any auditions to take clients in—”   “Sorry, we’re not. Have a nice day!”   You’re hung up on, not like an unwanted telemarketer trying to make their living. But there’s nothing you can do, so with a sigh, you continue down the list of agents. Most of them don’t pick up. You leave voice messages that go unanswered, exactly like the emails you frequently send.   Though occasionally, it picks up and it’s not just an automated voice.    “Please stop calling us!” The woman hisses on the other line. “We only take referrals.”   You’ve brought it up to the director again. But his brows always scrunch and he wears that visibly annoyed expression, giving an exaggerated sigh of feigned exhaustion. “Y/N, I told you what I told you. If you keep insisting on this matter, then I’ll have no choice but to be upset. No one likes it when they’re not being heard.”   And that’s the kinder version.   You’re spared on the speech that you need to work harder, that you’re not ready to be on actual Broadway, that you have a long way to go, that you need to be good as an intern first — like Jimin.   Of course, he would mention Jimin. You don’t doubt that he has some kind of star quality that you don’t have. Everyone seems to love him. He could probably get a referral if he asked. Or get an agent who would want to sign him within a day. Your envy is boundless.   “Okay, can you tilt your head a thirty degrees to the left?”   “Ummm…” The brunette tries to follow the instructions. “Is this thirty degrees?”   “It’s fine,” Namjoon mutters and puts an eye to the viewfinder. He snaps the shot on his Canon. The picture appears on the big screen seconds later. You muse that Jimin looks great with professional lighting and under the touch of a talented photographer. “Okay, now smile.”   Instantly, Jimin gives a toothy grin. His plump lips spread into his rounded cheeks, eyes crinkling into half-moons. He’s overwhelmingly cute and you feel your heart stutter in your chest.   Even Namjoon hums in satisfaction, turning his camera and snapping more pictures.   After a moment, a break is called and Jimin comes hopping over while Namjoon fiddles with his device.   “What do you think?”   “Yeah, it’s good.”   He leans over to the screen, unknowingly close to you, almost hovering over your body. The strands of his hair brush on your forehead as he looks over at the monitor. “You think I should put powder on?”   “No, you’re fine. It’s fine,” you correct and clear your throat. “You’re supposed to be yourself. No glamour shots. The casting directors want headshots that look like you. If you come in drastically different, it’ll hurt you in the long run.”   He hums and tilts to stare at you. “Thanks for showing me such a great photographer, Y/N.”   You smile. “Just take it as a lesson on how to get onto Broadway. Plus, it’s not me who’s taking the photos.”   “That’s right,” Namjoon pipes up and approaches, interrupting the two-way conversation. “You need someone who can capture your personality in two hours. It’s not such an easy thing.”   “Thank you for blessing us with your talent, Namjoon,” you tease.   “You’re welcome.” The photographer chuckles. “I’m just kidding. I’m happy to help. It’s not often that Y/N calls me up for a favour, and she’s certainly never. ever. brought anyone to my studio before, so of course I had to see who it was.” He eyes Jimin up and down as if choosing produce in the grocery store. “I can see it now. I can see the appea—”   You bump into his shoulder roughly. “Alright, I think we get it.”   “A friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine,” he says.    Jimin dips his head in gratitude. “I’ll entrust all my headshots to you then.”   Namjoon laughs, delighted from the recognition. “I’ll be leaving town for a few months on business excursions, but when I’m back, you bet. Let’s get a few more done, Jimin. I think we should take outdoor shots too to get that natural lighting.”   “You got it, boss.”   You watch them walk off, practically kissing each other’s asses. Then you turn back to the monitor, looking at all the photographs again.   If you were a director looking at these headshots, Jimin would most certainly get the role.   //   It’s a streak of luck that your phone rings.   Usually, you’re the one dialing. Though this time, it’s not an agent who wants to connect with you — but it’s just as good.   “Hello, Ms. Y/N? You recently submitted an application for the role of a town girl in the production of Beauty and the Beast. We’re interested in speaking to you about it further. Would you like to come in for a formal audition?”   You could sob from unadulterated relief and happiness. But as overjoyed as you are, you don’t tell anyone just in case. You never know what could happen, and you don’t want to place others in an awkward situation if you end up with a disappointing outcome. So you brace yourself.   But Jimin can tell something great happened — your smile is infectious.    “Is everything alright?” He starts laughing when your giggles spill. Your face hurts from your grin. Even the director was taken back earlier at your newfound enthusiasm to take the morning coffee order.   “Oh, just you know, life. Sometimes things work out, huh?”   “Alright then, silly girl.” His eyes soften and his smile becomes gentle. Jimin steals another glance at you again. You’re humming, uncaring that the two of you are carrying over thirty coffee drinks on a brisk Monday morning, and that you’ll have to walk down three flights of stairs to hand them out. “You know, you look really...nice happy. I mean you usually look nice, but when you’re happy, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying….never mind.”   Your cheeks become warm and you take a glimpse of Jimin. At the same time, he takes another glance and you both divert your vision after your eyes accidentally connect. “Um...thanks.”   Jimin’s distracted. Clumsy. He nearly trips off the curb of the sidewalk. But when he catches himself, he quickly rushes over to open the door for you. You try your best to hold back your laughter.   For the next few days, you practice your part by yourself, singing it over and over again, watching your own expressions in the mirror. You practice for the audition enough to become confident in your role, excited even. If you make it, you wonder what Jimin would say. He’s the only person who would celebrate with you.   He’s also the only person you would want to tell.    Once the afternoon of the audition arrives, you excuse yourself, telling Jimin that it’s a dentist appointment. But instead, you sneak from the basement of the building to the second floor, down the west wing.   There, it’s a whole other world.   The room is full of strangers, pacing around, holding the paper with their lyrics, but shutting their eyes to belt. They’re all warming up, melodic notes that sound jarring when it’s overlapping one another. Still, there are beautiful folks dressed in extravagant clothing, having probably spent time at the spa to get facials and get salon blowouts. It’s clear that many have bold personalities. That they’re not scared of eye contact.   You tug on your shrunken sweater, palms clammy.    You take a seat in the corner of the room in the uncomfortable chair.    The girl next to you gulps down her lemon water and leans over. “Intimidating, huh?”   “P-Pardon?”   “I was just saying how intimidating this all is.” She scans the premise and meets your eyes. “But it’s all for show. To make up for their lack of talent. You don’t need to flaunt your skills in front of other people if you know you’re good.”   You relax, giving a polite smile. “I agree.”   “I’m Yeonjeon.” She stretches out her hand.    “Y/N.” You shake it. “Nice to meet you.”   “Likewise.” The young lady oozes with the confidence you wish you had. She’s stunning, bright eyed and pretty smile. “What role are you auditioning for?”   “Oh, just a townswoman.”   “Really?” Yeonjeon cocks a brow. “I thought you would try out for Belle. I’m trying out for Belle. My agent called me about this casting call and I thought I would give it a try. I’ve always liked Beauty and the Beast as a kid.”   “Good luck then.”   She thanks you and just then, another auditionee exits the room and the woman holding the clipboard calls her name. Yeonjeon nods and gathers her belongings, casting one glance at you before leaving. “Hopefully we’ll be able to work together, Y/N.”   You wish her luck once more before watching her go off. Afterwards, you shut your eyes to try to calm your nerves, hiding your trembling hands and humming to warm your throat.    How many times have you been called back for a casting call like this? Not often. And you’ve never been called again to actually get the role.   It was easier back in community theater. They’d find a place for everyone who wanted one. It didn’t matter that you weren’t bold, loud, glamorous, charismatic...   You’re shocked out of your thoughts when you’re jolted, someone beside you poking your arm. “Are you, Y/N?”   “L/N Y/N.” The lady calls and you stand straight up, so quickly that you pull a muscle in your calf and the bag that was in your lap was now on the ground. The lady sighs. “Come right this way.”   “S-sorry, sorry.” You shuffle past the crowd to enter the large room after grabbing your bag again.    It’s a bigger room than you expected and a lot more people. It’s spacious with just a long stretched table facing the empty floor and exhausted faces sitting behind it. They stare back at you, unfamiliar as they judge you from head to toe, from your demeanor to how your hair is. It’s the director, the music director, the casting director, two producers and a reader — six of them slumped in their chairs, bored.   You swallow hard, approaching the center of the room where the masking tape is on the floor.    “Do you have a headshot and resume?”   “Y-yes, sorry.” You dig inside your bag, finding the papers wrinkled. You cuss inside your head and as you try organizing them, you accidentally trip on the carpet. Luckily, you don’t fall, but the papers go flying, coating the floor in white. You mumble more apologies, picking them up to hand them out. Your head is dipped, cheeks warm.   It’s only been five seconds, but it was already going badly.   “Can you introduce yourself?” one of them asks in annoyance when the silence stretches for too long.   “Y-yes, sorry. My name is Y/N. I have experience in working in community theater, both on stage and behind. Currently, I’m working as an intern at the production of Phantom of the O-Opera.”   You’re sweating at your hairline and you flinch when you hear a sudden snap, finding someone on the sidelines taking your picture.   “Alright then, Y/N.” The stern lady straightens out her blazer and puts down her pen, having jotted down some notes. “And you’re auditioning for the supporting role of a townswoman, so part of the female ensemble?”   “Yes.”   “Pardon?”   “Yes!” you exclaim in a louder voice.   “Then what song will you be singing for us today?”   “The Life I Never Led by the Sister Act the Musical!” You’re already straining your voice by yelling, but you pay no mind, quickly flipping the page after they nod and make hums of acknowledgment.   The man’s deadpans in a monotone, “Start.”   You clear your throat, steadying your breath. “I've never talked back, I've never slept late, I've never sat down when told to stand straight—”   One of their hands raise. You pause. “Can you sound more…” He gestures with his hand. “Light? Right now it’s very serious, and we’re looking for something lively.”   “Yes, of course, sorry.” You brace yourself and start again. But it’s happening again.   Your hands have a sudden tremor. You feel your heart picking up its pace, fast enough that you’re scared of getting a heart attack. Your face twitches against its will. Your mouth goes dry.    You feel dizzy. Like you might throw up before passing out.   “I-I've never talked back, I've never slept late, I've never sat down when told to stand straight. I've never let go and gone with the flow, and don't even know, really, why.”   The strangers are scrutinizing you. A cold sweat wash down your body, palms clammy, knees shaking. It’s an out-of-body experience and you cringe when you hear yourself go off tune. Everything that you’ve prepared yourself for goes down the drain. The self-assurance washes away, leaving in its place your most desperate state — a girl who tries hard but whose effort never shows.   Your voice even warbles against your will.    “I've never rebelled, or stood up and yelled, or even just held my head high. And all of the feelings unspoken, all of the truths unsaid, they're all I have left of the life I never led—”   You inhale a breath as the note finishes off. But before you can continue singing, the woman in the center raises her hand to silence you. It goes quiet immediately. The sound of scratching pens on paper seem deafening. Then finally, the woman looks up and clasps her hands together. “Alright, thank you for coming. We’ll let you know the final results.”   “T-Thank you.”   You leave feeling sick to your stomach. Outside the silent room is noise, others still singing and warming up, sounding a thousand times better than you. They’re stable, excited, assured.   You know you did poorly, and you’re not imagining it either. You never end up getting a call back from them. No denials or confirmations.    The radio silence is loud and clear.

It’s early in the morning with you crouched over sorting clothes in a bin that two pairs of feet shuffle forward. Your head moves back to find the girls that frequently flock to Taeyeon looking down at you.   The corner of her lips curl. “You went for an audition for Beauty and the Beast?”   “What?”   “I saw you,” the other girl sasses with a shrill voice and her arms crossed. “I was wondering why you weren’t here, but Jimin said you had a dentist appointment. Looks like you were lying to even him.”   “I—”   One of them squats down, meeting your eye level. “Do you really think you could make it? Thought you could sneak away and get yourself a big role to show the rest of us and make us feel bad? I don’t think so. Let’s be frank, you could never make it, Y/N. Shouldn’t bother trying. Why would you set yourself up for disappointment? But I guess the effort is cute.”   She stands and her friend smirks. “The director knows you were lying and trying to jump ship and run away from your job. He’s pissed. So good luck trying to keep this position, intern.”   They walk away and your eyes sting painfully.   Your hand balls into a tight fist, the clothes in your hands wrinkling. Your nails sink past the thin fabric into the palm of your hand. Your knuckles turn white. It’s a privilege to work here. A privilege.    You remind yourself of these things — that you will not punch them in the face. As much as you want to and as strong as the urge is, you won’t scratch their faces until they bleed and scream.   “Fucking bitches…” you mutter out from your clenched teeth.   At the same time, Jimin enters the floor. The timing is poor.   He’s a moment too late, but it’s enough to catch them walking away and enough for him to read your angered expression that he mistakes as emotional distraught. “Hey, what’s going on?”   Your ears perk once you hear the smooth timbre. Turning to find Jimin, you sigh and relax, rage fading. “Nothing. Can you help me fold this bin? I need to grab the other.”   “Alright.” Jimin nods slowly, watching your backside.   The director is indeed passive aggressive to you, making comments that you shouldn't lose focus on this job and whatever else bullshit he usually gives. But you don't care.   The weight of your failures are heavier on your mind.   //   “Today, we’re going to brush up on some singing techniques and then talk about building your acting resume.”   “I practiced.” Jimin smiles. “I swear.”   “Good.”   It’s humiliating, not because of other people’s perceptions of you. But it’s humiliating to yourself. You’ve always complained that no one would give you a chance, that all you needed was an opportunity, but once it was given to you, you messed it up. There’s no one to blame. Not your shitty life or because of the director. Not because of your bad luck or the world’s prejudice towards you. It’s no one’s fault but your own.   You’ve lost a great chance. How many more will be given to you?   How can you ever dream of standing on a world stage if you can’t even go through an audition?   Maybe the director was right. When you stand in his shoes, it’s clear that you don’t know what you’re doing, that you’re not ready. Far from it. Your ambitions are bigger than your capabilities.   You’re a sapling who wants to be a grand cherry blossom.   Perhaps that’s why those girls laughed at you — why they were so condescending when they found out you were auditioning. You’re a foolish imposter. A sapling that wants to be a blossom tree.   You’d laugh at yourself too.   “Y/N?”   “Huh?”   “I asked you how I did.” Jimin searches your expression with his own brows scrunched in concern. “I just sang.”   “Oh, sorry. You did fine.”   You’re too distracted to teach. You’re mentally distraught, fatigued — and you honestly just want to crawl underneath your covers for a while and wish your entire life would be fixed. Or at least until everyone forgot about you and you could start over.   But Jimin would never allow himself to forget about you. “Are you sure you’re alright?”   “I’m just….at a bit of a low point,” you admit, mustering a smile. “I’ll be okay. Always am.”   “It’s okay if you want to talk about it. I’ll listen to you.” His gaze is sincere and his attention is fully devoted to you. It goes quiet as you mull over your own thoughts, and then Jimin’s eyes light up, He digs into his bag for a flyer. “Actually, there was something that I wanted to talk to you about.”   He hands it to you and you unfold the corners.   The flyer is a dark blue with a streak of red, a young girl on it facing the horizon. You recognize it immediately. It’s the musical, Les Misérables.   Jimin smiles. “They’re doing auditions.”   “You want to try out?” Your eyes flicker up to him.   “I think we should try out,” he suggests. “It’s a good opportunity.”   There’s a thick lump in your throat. The paper in your hand crinkles where you hold it tightly between your fingertips. You wondered how many chances you would get after you blew them all. But with Jimin, came another chance.   Yet you’re still humiliated. You still feel like an imposter.   “I don’t...think I’m ready.”   He’s befuddled. “What do you mean?”   “You should try out for it, Jimin. I think I’ll sit this one out.”   Jimin grabs your wrist before you can get up. His hands curl around your flesh, but his fingers are gentle, his touch tender. His softened eyes search your expression again, and you feel your face get warm under his attention. “I don’t get it. Why would you want to miss this opportunity? Didn’t you tell me that you should always take whatever chance you get? I really have a good feeling about this one. I thought we could try it out together.”   “I just…..I don’t think I can do it.”   “Why not?”   “Because I’m not good enough!” you scream.   “You are!” Jimin stands on his feet and when he realizes he’s yelling, he lowers his volume. “I know that you know that you are, so that’s why I don’t understand. Are you giving up?”   “No.” It’s an outrageous question, but somehow your harsh whisper sounds like a lie. “I’m not giving up.”   “Then do this with me,” he coaxes. “We can try out together.”   For a second, you envision being on stage with Jimin, looking over during the grand finale and exchanging silent smiles with one another — but it seems like such a far-fetched dream.   “Are you really satisfied being a ghost singer and performing behind the curtain?” he asks.   “I’m not.” You divert your vision elsewhere. There’s a sudden pressure on your shoulders, and you can feel yourself break out into a sweat.   “There’s nothing wrong with trying,” Jimin tells you and makes it sound so simple. “If we fail, we fail together. If we succeed, we succeed together.”   You meet his vision, wondering why he’s trying too hard to convince you. You don’t want to be pushed — but maybe it’s what you need. “Okay. Let’s try.”   He smiles and you shove away your hesitance.   //   The pair of you get your applications completed together in the coming days, sending in headshots, filling out your sheets, preparing the reel. You practice small sections of the available script, singing while watching your expressions. It’s exactly what you did not long ago — but this time it’s with Jimin.   And his enthusiasm crumbles away your despair.   You might be a sapling trying to be a cherry blossom, but Jimin is a grand flower bed blooming beside you. He makes you just a bit more confident of budding your own flowers and reaching great heights.   The both of you submit your applications together, and anticipation bubbles at the pit of your stomach. As much as you try to keep it at bay, your hope creeps back in. Maybe this could be it...   And then your phone rings days later.   “Hello?”   “Hello?”    The voice on the other line is unmistakable. “Hi, is this Ms. Y/N?”   “Yes, it is. How may I help you?”   “I’m the casting director for the Les Misérables production here in New York. You recently sent in an application for an audition. We were wondering if you were still interested and willing to set up a convenient date to meet.”   “I-I….” You inhale a deep breath to fill your lungs. Your vision is blurred, eyes stinging with tears that threaten to shed, but you keep yourself composed and professional. “Yes, I’m still interested. I’d be happy to set up a date and time for an audition.”   There’s a flutter in your stomach. You feel like you might throw up — but it’s the first time that it’s for a good thing. Though instead of opting for spilling your food out from your guts in excitement, you find yourself throwing the front door open.   There’s one person that you want to tell. This time, you’ll follow your urges. You won’t hold back.   But before you can even knock on the door next to yours, you catch the brunette boy walking down the hall, having turned the corner of where the stairwell is. Jimin sees you too and his eyes light up. They shimmer in the corridor lights and he approaches with his hands dug in the pockets of his trench coat.   It takes too long. You run and meet him halfway.    “I...got a call.”   His smile expands into a grin. He hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “I did too. Just now, right?”   “Just now.” You confirm with vigorous nods, almost crying.   If it weren’t for him….   You hop up to Jimin on the tips of your toes, your whimper is muffled into his shoulder with your face dug into his coat. And your arms wrap around his torso. The boy’s surprised, stumbling back from the impact, but blissfully giggles when he realizes you’re hugging him. Jimin’s arms quickly encircle your waist. His cheeks deepen into a rosy hue and his smile softens even more.    He smells of lavender body wash and fresh linen.   “I told you that you could do it,” he teases gently in an intimate whisper.   Your gratitude is immense. You’re rendered speechless. You don’t know what to say, what to tell him. So you try to show him, squeezing him tighter.    You were going to give up — you could only take so many failures — you could only last so long in a state of limbo. But with Jimin by your side, you feel like you could achieve anything.   You finally let go of him, heart racing, making wild gestures. “We-we need to get started, Park. We have to go look for a song and start practicing. You told me we’re in this together, so why are we wasting time out here? Come on!”   You grab onto him, pulling him towards his apartment as his laughter rings in the air.   In the meanwhile, Jimin muses in his mind that he meant it when he said you were beautiful when you were happy. You’re practically glowing.   //   There’s more practice to be done, helping one another choose songs for the audition, giving opinions to improve certain parts, to use certain techniques. You’re more motivated than before, fueling your own morale instead of relying on his. You’re eager, especially knowing that you won’t be alone during the audition, that you won’t be entering a room of complete strangers.   Singing in front of Jimin wasn’t as hard as it used to be either. Your palms don’t get clammy, sweat doesn’t start dripping, your knees don’t shake. It helps a lot to sing directly in front of someone. And you’ve gotten comfortable with him. Jimin’s attention is still a lot sometimes, but you know it’s coming from a good place. He’s not so much scrutinizing as he is listening and savouring.   “What if they ask you to dance?”   He pipes up out of the blue while you’re making dinner at the same time as practicing.   “What?”   He repeats the question and smiles mischievously. “What would you do then?”   “I don’t think they would. I’m pretty sure there isn’t any dancing in Les Mis, Jimin. If there is, then not a lot.”   “Hey, you never know. They can tell you to do anything and you have to be ready for it.”   You scoff lightly. He’s still trying to convince you to teach him after all these months.   And you give in this time. You allow Jimin to pull you away from the stove. You’re timid, uncertain, but he places your hands where they need to be — both on his firm shoulders, while his own are light on your waist.    “Like this.”   “What if I step on your feet?”   “I’ll survive.” His eyes twinkle, playful. “Okay, step back once, then I’ll step forward. Now step forward and I’ll step back. One, two, three, one two three. Just follow my lead.”   You look down to your shuffling feet, making sure not to step on his toes. You feel silly, but it’s also easier than you realized. Maybe that’s just because he’s a good lead.    “Relax, I’m not that fragile.”   “I don’t want to be responsible if you get hurt.”   You raise your head, eyes connecting to his. Jimin smiles, and then twirls you suddenly, making you laugh. He holds your right hand, letting you sway back and forth. It begins to feel more like a swing dance than a slow one.    But the giggles are infectious and he pulls you close to him, enough for you to feel his body heat and for it to warm your face to your toes. You feel light, butterflies swooping from your chest to the pits of your stomach. And Jimin’s the very cause of it.   “Jimin!” You laugh, trying to pull away. “The water’s gonna overboil!”   He stares deeply into you, corners of his mouth pulling. “Just let it.”   “And burn down this apartment?”   Jimin shrugs, but lets go anyhow. “I wouldn’t mind.” You feel colder when he’s gone, though your fingertips still tingle with his touch. His hands were soft. “When the time comes, I’ll happily teach you how to dance properly.”   You know that time will come someday as long as you stay by Jimin’s side.

[avis-writeshq]

Can you write a song fic? Do you do those? With Oikawa based on the song Ours by Taylor Swift? Love your blog btw!

Oikawa Tooru x Reader: Ours

Requested: Yep, by anon!

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader

Summary: Elevator buttons and morning air, sometimes people suck. But when there’s a light at the end of the tunnel (cough, Oikawa), you can’t help but keep moving.

Warnings: Fluff, small angst if you look carefully, trash writing

Other: I loooooovveeee this song! It’s basically a baby ‘Lover’ aw! Thanks for the request anon!

Word count: 1,647                                                                                            

 Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

Y/N: Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

***

 You shuffled awkwardly into the tiny gap in the elevator, clutching your brief case tightly. You silently cursed the chatty café worker who tried to get you to buy 3 banana breads when you only wanted 1. You glanced around though your peripheral vision; you knew all these people. The janitor in the corner and the annoying office lady who always has a little lipstick on her teeth… even the frustrating office prankster who worked in the stall right next to you. And yet… you didn’t know their names. You would’ve thought that after 2 years of working in the same company you would get used to your colleagues, right?

 Wrong.

 You closed your eyes tightly, waiting to reach the 42nd floor. You needed to get through the day. Well, unless one of your co-workers decided to test your patience.

 Patience… how could a random annoying person test your patience? Honestly, you probably dealt with the worst. A fond smile drifted onto your face at the thought. At least he genuinely apologised when he annoyed you.

 The soft ding of the elevator brought you out of your reverie. You tried to take a step forward, only to be pushed over by the rest of the people who were once occupying the elevator.

 “H-hey!” You yelped, dropping your case to the floor despite the iron-grip you had on it. “Friggin hell…”

 Apparently respect is an uncommon thing around here. You let out a soft sigh, “Tooru… when you get back, you owe me chocolate and a Disney marathon.”

 With that, you walked over to your little stall and dropped the case to the floor. Turning your computer on, you couldn’t help but stare at the desktop image. It was a selfie of you and Oikawa. He was doing a peace sign at the camera while pressing a kiss to your cheek. You shook your head. Come on, focus.

 Oikawa is in America; being in the National Volleyball tournament was his dream. And this was your dream job. Yeah… what a lie.

 Your lunch break took way longer to come than expected. You fished out your store-bought salad and headed to the staff room. There were a few other staff members inside – a lot of the others preferred to go out for lunch instead of staying in the drab office.

 “Hey, isn’t that L/N Y/N?”

 Your name caught your attention and you listened into the conversation.

 “Why is she working here while her boyfriend is all the way in America? Isn’t she scared of him finding someone better?”

 Well, they weren’t being subtle about their rudeness. But the truth is, you were scared, even if it was just a little bit. You didn’t want to be, you trusted him, but there was a small nagging doubt in the back of your head. You knew what Tooru would say if he heard what you were thinking.

 “You know you’re better than them,” he told you once when you finally drew out the confidence to tell you how you felt. “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind. I’m yours. Forever and always.”

 The day seemed to go on and on, but then the clock hit 5 o’clock and you bolted out of the office building. Finally! You got out of that cramped little stall. You let out a long sigh as you boarded the train, scrolling through your social media.

 “So… you’re Oikawa’s little toy, huh?”

 You froze at the icy tone of the woman next to you. She was, for lack of better words, completely and utterly gorgeous. Her ruby painted lips and her large hoop earrings, as well as her long platinum hair, gave her a superior vibe and you shuffled awkwardly at her words. Toy?

 “What are you-”

 “Oh? Tooru didn’t mention me?” A sickly sweet smile stretched across her face. “I am Tachibana Reina.” She looked you up and down, her smile quickly replaced with a scowl. “I wonder why Oikawa went for the likes of you.”

 You said nothing, thinking of another comeback. No matter how hard you tried, she had a point. There was nothing that special to you. The only thing you were ‘known for’ was your crazy dance moves – and you swore everyone who witnessed that to secrecy. You shook your head mentally. You can’t think like that. You shouldn’t care about what people have to say about you and Tooru. After all, he was your boyfriend. He was yours, not anyone else’s and he was like a loyal puppy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and you probably trusted him more than you trust yourself.

 “Maybe because I’m real,” you answered backhandedly.

 “What did you say?!” Whoop, she’s angry now.

 You shrug casually, getting up just as the train stopped. “Well, it was nice talking to you. See you never.” And with a smile and a wave, you hopped off the train.

 ***

“Hey!”

 The tired man on the other side of the screen smiled at your energetic form. “Hello, my love.”

 You grin, “Are you tired? Sorry, it must be really early there…”

 “I was just about to do my morning run,” Oikawa hummed letting out a yawn. “It’s nice to know that my lovely girlfriend is thinking about me. Well? How was your day?”

 “The usual,” you shrugged. “Was shoved over in the elevator, had a bunch of office ladies gossip about me behind my back, the works. Oh, but I did manage to flip off one of your crazy exes so that was nice.”

 He snorted, but a glimmer of concern was in his eyes. “Did they say anything?”

 “Well, your lovely ex, Tachibana I think her last name was, decided to shoot some insightful words to me,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m fine though, no biggie.”

 Oikawa gazed at you through the screen and a charming smile lit up his features. “You’re perfect, Y/N-chan~. Don’t listen to them, okay?”

 “I haven’t been for the past 5 years, thanks for noticing. Now go do your run dummy.”

 “I’m coming home tonight~ see you later!”

 And after pressing the big red button and putting your phone on charge, you slowly drifted to sleep.

 ***

Life seemed to hate you. Eh, you were used to it by now. The elevator was packed again today, and you did your best to push your way through. And… you got hit in the face with a briefcase, someone spilled coffee on your white shirt, and you almost landed flat on your face when someone ‘accidentally’ tripped you over. You groaned, reminding yourself to take the stairs next time, even if you have to walk up 42 floors and die halfway.

 And the whole day went the same. You had to deal with the same old shenanigans. People talking behind your back, the random paper aeroplanes that missed your head by an inch, that 1 staff member who liked to steal people’s food even though it was clearly labelled… man, you better get that dumb promotion or you were so out of there.

 5 o’clock seemed to never come as you stared blankly at your computer screen. ‘Woah, Tooru is in another magazine. Good job, babe, if you don’t treat me to chocolate, yaint seeing a camera ever again.’ You thought to yourself, spooning another spoon of yogurt into your mouth.

 “So… when is Oikawa coming back?” A haughty voice questioned from behind you in fake sympathy.

 Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “Why would you like to know?”

 “It must be hard… long-distance relationships are the worst.” She smirked at you.

 “It’s not as bad as people make it out to be. I trust him.” A soft smile graced your features and the woman scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder and leaving you to your peace.

 ***

So, according to Miyagi Airlines, Tooru’s flight would arrive at 5:30, which allowed you more than enough time to scoot your butt to the airport. You let out a sigh, scrolling through the pictures on your phone as you sat in the train. Reminiscing the times during High School seemed to be the best thing you could have done and you felt all the negative emotions that you built through the day seemed to evaporate. All the memories of the old volleyball team at Aoba Josai, meeting Tooru for the first time in your first year… yeah, those were the best times. You smiled wistfully at your phone. Damn, you couldn’t wait to bury him alive in hugs and kisses.

 As soon as the train came to a stop, you ran out through the doors and scoured the airport for the America-to-Japan flight. Aha, bridge 8.

 And that’s where you saw him. Glasses on his gorgeous tired face, his chocolate brown locks messy and tousled like always… you swore you fell in love all over again. And then, he saw you. His once tired expression was replaced with a bright smile that shone like a thousand stars. As he dropped his backpack to a random chair, you threw your briefcase to the side before wrapping your arms around him.

 He buried his head into your shoulder, peppering light kisses against your neck as he did so.

 “I missed you.” He murmured, tangling his long fingers into your hair as he pressed his lips to yours.

 You smiled into the kiss, whispering against his lips, “I missed you, too.”

 And the smiles and laughs that overtook your features were bright and loud, despite the small tears that pricked in your eyes that he gently wiped away.

 “You owe me a Disney marathon,” you said, as he picked his suitcase up from the baggage claim.

 “Yeah, I had a feeling,” he grinned, entwining his fingers with yours.

 You smiled, squeezing his hand lightly. You could get used to this.

 [The stakes are high. The water’s rough. But this love is ours.]

Copyright Disclaimer:

All characters except for the reader and my OC’s (listedbelow) are the work of Haruichi Furudate(古館春一).This is not part of the canon work by any means. I do not claim ownership overthe characters or the Haikyuu storyline and plot. Without Furudate Sensei’swork, myself as well as many other writers are unable to create these stories.

 My OC’s:

Fukuhara Aneko(福原あねこ)

Hasegawa Sakura (長谷川さくら)

Emiko Etsudo (えつどうえみこ)

Tachibana Reina (橘れいな)

[profoundnet]

Profound Member Post - January 2020

Header by @cryptomoon​ and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

This months round up is extra special as PB celebrated its 2 year anniversary with a creation birthday bash. You will find submissions for this monumental occasion marked with a 🎂 emoji! Happy Birthday PB and thank you to everyone who makes this server, and our corner of the fandom so great!

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR JANUARY 2020!

Featuring works by @nox-lee​, @nickelkeep​, @maleyah-givemetomorrow​, @banshee1013​, ArielAquarial, @castielslostwings​, @butterflydreaming-writes-fic​, @goldenraeofsun​, @jemariel​, @surlybobbies​, @blueeyesandpie​, @rauko-creates​, @foxymoley​, @maggiemaybe160​, and, @andimeantittosting​!

Masterpost below the cut.

noxlee - @nox-lee​ - noxlee - (Pillowfort)

Soft (E, 1.7k)

15x10 coda. Dean discovers that his new "normal" extends to his sex life as well. 

Tags: coda, established relationship, mediocre sex

 nickelkeep - @nickelkeep​ - nickelkeep

Tupelo Honey (E, 5.5k) 🎂

When one of his co-workers fall through on a photo shoot, Dean steps up to help out and cover it. Who knew that there was a such thing as a beekeeper's society? And who knew that a gorgeous blue-eyed man would be a beekeeper?

Tags: AU - Modern, Photographer!Dean, Beekeeper!Cas, Nude Photoshoot, Pinups, Cas acts like Endverse!Cas, Semi-Public Sex

Time Alone  (T, 1.9k) 🎂

Dean wants some alone time with Cas. The best way to do that? Find a case and tell Sam and Jack to stay behind.

Tags: Canonverse, Casefic, Salt and Burn, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Impala Kisses. 

‘Til I Found Salvation (M, 14k)

Finding your soulmate isn't hard when almost everyone has multiple soulmates; four, five even upwards of seven. It's rare to have only three soul marks and people who only have two? Sucks to be them. And the poor sons of bitches who only have one? They're the unluckiest of all. Dean Winchester knows a thing or two about being unlucky.

Tags: Canonverse, Canon Divergent, Soulmate Marks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Temp. MCD, Whump, Hurt/Comfort

Something to Talk About (T, 5.6k)

Charlie pointed up at her ear. "You don't hear that?"

"Hear what?" Dean closed his eyes and rested for a moment. He realized that music played in the background and started searching for the source immediately. "Wait, is that... Is that Zeppelin playing?

"Bunker, play 'Houses of the Holy,'" Charlie replied, a smirk on her face.

The first few haunting notes of the Zeppelin classic started playing, and Dean's head whipped around in surprise. "Where's that coming from? Did you buy one of those damned Alexa Despacito things for the bunker?"

Tags: Canonverse, AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Charlie & Sam ship Destiel, Home Automation, Domesticity in the Bunker, Pranks and Practical Jokes

Balance to the Force (E, 7.5k)

When needing their privacy in open areas, Charlie and Dean have no problem switching to an uncommon language - Sindarin, from Lord of the Rings. But when they start speaking it at Nerd Convention, does Dean bite off more than he can chew?

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - ComicCons, Gratuitous Nerdiness, Polygot!Cas, Language/Accent Kink, Strangers to Lovers

Space Oddity (SFW) 🎂

Art for @maggiemaybe160​‘s fic Space Oddity

Maleyah - @maleyah-givemetomorrow​ - Maleyah

Where the Corporeal and Poetry Meet (E, 3.6k)

Part one of a series of ficlets exploring a season 9 divergence, where Cas is brought back to the Bunker and explores his humanity with Dean. "Straddling him as they make out, Dean whispers the suggestion that night. He binds Castiel’s hands with his own tie, which spikes Castiel’s breathing. He’s sure that if he still possessed his grace, his eyes would light up the dimly lit room in pale blue. His eventual orgasm knocks the breath out of him and it takes a long time to come back down into the safe circle of Dean’s arms.

They take it from there."

Tags: Human!Cas, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Soft Dom!Dean, Soft sub!Cas, Poetry, Idiots in Love, Domestic Fluff

Where Kinks and Breakfast Meet (M, 3k)

Part two of a season 9 divergence series where Cas gets brought back to the Bunker and explores his humanity with Dean. "But he still wants to engage Cas. Fully. He’s only unwilling to put Cas at a similar risk, despite Cas’ persistent reassurances that his drop was related to the realisation that hit him mid-play. They do further research together. Into shibari. Into bondage. Into subspace. Drops. Both on the Dom and sub’s end. So he realises he suffered one in the wake of their moment and that he went about handling it the wrong way. A few days ago, Dean found a promising list, which he insisted they fill in to avoid a repeat performance. With everything they have been up to, Dean has faith (who knew?) they are compatible, but he wants clarity. He smiles at the feelings that loosens up inside his chest and huffs, rolling his eyes at himself."

Tags: Human!Cas, Kink Negotiation, Domestic Fluff, Soft Dom!Dean, Soft sub!Cas, switching implied, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester

Banshee1013 - @banshee1013​ - Banshee1013

Texas Sun (M, 4k) 🎂

Ever since Cas and Dean tied the knot, they have been driving Sam *insane* with their inappropriately located and utterly spontaneous make-out suggestions. So when he finds them looking at filming locations for the movie "Tombstone" in Arizona, he suggests they take some time (and give him a break!) and road-trip it. Dean plans the route and takes the long way 'round through Texas - all the more time to spend with his angel, and show him some sights along the way.

Tags: Fluff, Road Trips, Sam Winchester is Not Amused, Honeymoon, Grinding, Canon Related, Established Relationship

ArielAquariel - ArielAquariel

Your hand in mine, we walk the miles (E, 11.5k)

With the big day finally there, Dean is more than ready to walk down that aisle and marry Cas.

Tags: Wedding Fluff, Honeymoon, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe, Castiel is Claire Novak's Parent, Fluff, Domestic Fluff

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings​ - castielslostwings

Slide Away (E, 51k)

Since meeting and falling in love in front of the camera a decade ago, movie star Dean Winchester and his husband, celebrity photographer Castiel, have been the media’s darlings. From the outside, it truly appears as if the couple has it all: fame, fortune, fans and most of all, a profound and unshakeable bond that sees them through all the highs and lows. Behind the scenes, everything is not as it seems. Beyond carefully-curated sets of photos and filters, Dean and Castiel have been falling apart for years. Their marriage is essentially over, the latest victim in Hollywood’s merciless grinder. As a last-ditch effort to punch out some positive PR before news of their split breaks, the boys agree to do one last PR stunt—a recreation of the photos that made the world fall in love with them (while they were falling for each other). Will this plan drive their relationship over the edge permanently? Or will Dean and Castiel finally realize that their fans aren’t the only ones who have been fooled by all the smoke and mirrors? Misunderstandings, miscommunication, and mistrust are only the beginning. But if our heroes can push past those mistakes, perhaps they can learn that it's never too late to start all over again.

Tags: Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, Fake Relationship, Idiots back to lovers, Movie Star Dean, Photographer Castiel, Accidental sex tape, divorce, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending. 

looks_clear (chrysalisdreams) - @butterflydreaming-writes-fic​ - looks_clear (chrysalisdreams)

White Light // Black Water (T, 7k)

In 2019, the Baozhu, a pearl that granted the desire of Dean’s heart, changed the timeline from a particular moment in 2003. Dean is hunting alone when events set in motion before that year catch up to him.

Tags: Drowning, Temporary Character Death, Car Accidents, Baby Gets Hurt, Time Travel, Episode Related, Episode S8e12: As Time Goes By, Episode S14e300: Lebanon, Kale!Sam, Alternate Angel Lore

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun​ - goldenraeofsun

Dean Winchester and the Patron Saint of Blind Dates (T, 18k)

Dean Winchester's friends are a bunch of traitors. So he had a bad breakup two years ago and hasn't gotten back on the horse. Their intervention - a series of blind dates - can't be the solution. But if this'll get his friends to stop, Dean can choke down over-priced spaghetti, make forced conversation, and drink whatever random cocktail the weirdo behind the bar makes for him next. At least Cas has Dean's back. One word from Dean, and he'll make excuses for Dean to bail like a super awkward knight in shining armor.

Tags: Human AU, Bartender Cas, Dean has self-worth issues, minor angst, Benny & Dean friendship, minor Sam/Ruby

jemariel - @jemariel​ - jemariel

Spit-Polish and Shine (E, 1.5k)  🎂

You know how Dean Winchester doesn't wear shorts? Well. Sometimes he does. Unredeemed filthy porn on a car. Prompted by a PB botstat.

Tags:  Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex on a Car, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life

surlybobbies - @surlybobbies​ - surlybobbies

I Like the Sound of That (T, 1k)

In mid-December, Gabe hangs a sprig of mistletoe in Cas’s foyer. Cas, resisting the temptation to strangle his brother, snaps a picture and sends it to Dean. Take it down or leave it up? Idk dude. U trying to catch someone under there? Cas hedges. I don’t want to kiss anyone who’d only do it because of a plant. Fair enough. Just leave it up tho. U’ll break an ankle climbing up ur rickety ladder. Dw u don’t have to kiss me Cas puts his phone down and doesn’t reply. He indulges in two glasses of wine and valiantly tries to avoid thinking about kissing Dean.

Tags: friends to lovers, christmas fic, fluff, mistletoe, au

Lucky Enough (T, 2.5k)

Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue, but then closed it just as suddenly, deflating. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Cas, I don’t mean to be a dick.” “Then stop being one,” Cas said simply, adjusting the blankets around Dean a little more securely. There was a pause. Dean blinked. “You’re supposed to say that I wasn’t being a dick in the first place.” “I dislike lying to you.” Dean scowled. “Why am I your friend?” “Because I spend my holidays looking after you when you’re sick,” Cas said matter-of-factly, reaching out to touch Dean’s forehead. [Dean's sick over the New Year's Eve holiday, but it's fine because Cas has got a bed to share.]

Tags: holiday fic, bed sharing, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, new year's kiss, cuddling

blueeyesandpie - @blueeyesandpie​ - blueeyesandpie

Beginnings (SFW) 🎂

The door to Dean's room in the Bunker, with Cas's tie on the doorknob

Tags: the bunker, pb100, we all know what's happening in there

In the California Sun (SFW)

A commissioned painting for Slide Away of Dean and Cas standing in a pool.

Tags: slide away, commissions, the tension amirite

Commission for Slide Away (SFW)

A commission for Slide Away of Cas running into Dean's arms along a corridor lined with photos of their rekindled romance.

Tags: commission, yay they happy

The Kiss Cam (E, 8k) 🎂

Dean's excited about the tickets he got for the OSU/UofM football match, but his boyfriend Crowley seems intent on ruining the day (and possibly his life) for him. When the kiss cam settles on them and Crowley pushes Dean away, a blue-eyed man they'd met in line is more than happy to fill the void. Loosely based on the headline/prompt "Woman Kisses Man Next to Her on Kiss Cam After Date Snubs Her."

Tags: manipulative crowley, non-explicit dean/crowley, minor sabriel, strangers to lovers, angst and fluff and e-rated shenanigans, NOT a sports story, pb birthday bash, collaboration

Say It Straight (T, 1.7k) 🎂

Something went wrong in that milk run to Kentucky, but neither Dean nor Cas want to explain what happened. When the truth does come out, it isn't at all what Sam expected...though really, why should he be surprised? 

Tags: PoV: Sam Winchester, Sam ships it, Idiots to Lovers, Canonverse, drinking to cope, PB Bot Prompts, first time, no spoilers past season 13

rauko-creates - @rauko-creates​ - FeaRauko

Sing Love (T, 2.7k)

Castiel comes back from a grocery run with Sam and overhears Dean singing in the shower. ***or*** That one where Castiel finds out that Dean might love him too.

Tags: canonverse, singing, idiots in love, first kiss, fluff, some angst, love confessions

foxymoley - @foxymoley​ - foxymoley

Hell’s Companion (G, 350 words)

This is for saltnhalo's birthday!

It's hard to write for someone so talented but I scoured PB for any prompts she had shown an interest in and apparently she 'needed this'! Lol So here we are!

Prompt by Sky: You’ve heard of witch!cas and familiar!dean now consider this upgrade to demon!cas and hellhound!dean - hellhounds, of course, having a secret human form in this au.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Demon Castiel, Hellhound Dean, non-explicit/implied torture of random unnamed demon, mention of Boy King Sam

Roll for Dragons (T, 2.8k) 🎂

Dean is offered up as a sacrifice by his corrupt hometown. Written for jdragon as part of the Profoundbond birthday bash.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Jo Harvelle, Dragons, Alternate Universe - Historical

Mithril (G, 1k) 🎂

Dean makes an interesting discovery in a bunker storeroom so he and Sam perform some experiments.

Tags: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Weapons, The Lord of the Rings References, Men of Letters, Bunker, Soft!Dean

MaggieMaybe160 - @maggiemaybe160​ - MaggieMaybe160

Birthday Wishes (M, 3.5k)

Dean recalls his past birthdays before going out to celebrate his 41st.

Tags: Graphic Violence Warning. Heavy Angst. Anti-John Winchester.

Broken (M, 700 words)

Dean snaps out of a dreamlike state and found he's made a huge mistake and it's Zachariah's fault. All part of a plan to get him to say yes to Michael.

Tags: Graphic Violence Warning. Major Character Death Warning. Heavy Angst.

Demon Deals and Prayers to Angels (T, 4.5k) 🎂

Dean makes a deal with a demon so he can go back in time and change the future.

Tags: Major Character Death Warning. Heavy Angst.

Sleep Oddity (T, 1.5k) 🎂

Based on a prompt: "I just want to go home," said the astronaut. "So come home," said Ground Control. "So come home," said a voice from the stars.

Tags: Major Character Death Warning

Falling (T, 2k) 🎂  

Cas remembers all of the times that Heaven was against he and Dean getting together, and the repeated times he didn't care.

Tags: Graphic Violence Warning. Happy Ending. 

Memories on Display (T, 2k) 🎂

Cas is in shock after a battle and is going through memories to try to cope with loss.

Tags: Major Character Death. Grief.

andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting​ - andimeantittosting

On a Breath of Snow (G, 4.5k)

Once, Castiel, Duke of Rexford, gave up the love of his life in the name of duty and honour. He has dedicated his life to raising his son Jack. Now, a fierce snowstorm brings Dean, Viscount Winchester back into his life on Christmas Eve. And as North Cove Castle's fires burn warm and festive, so do Dean and Castiel’s feelings of hope.

Tags: Regency AU, Getting back together, Christmas, Alternate history

[apricot-kingdom]

I'm here to torture myself so I'mma need that Morishipping hot take. 🥵

Send me a ship in my inbox and I’ll grade it -accepting

Morishipping (Yami Bakura x Hiroto):

B: Its really cute / D: I’m neutral on it

Honestly I ship them both with other characters usually, and your the only person I really see make art of them. But in saying that I think your arts really cute of them and I love seeing what you have on them which is why I think  the ships cute-I love seeing your pictures on them >u

But otherwise I’m neutral on it, I don’t do a lot with Hiroto-but I still think they could be quiet cute together and have a cool potential, even though I do still think in most cases I’d ship (relationship wise) them with other people more so then each other.

Hot takes under the cut:

Canon: 

Hiroto was a bit on the outside of the group a bit more so I can see Bakura might of had an easier time coming to him rather then someone like Yuugi or even Jonouchi. (And I really liked that post you made about them in season one with Mokuba- this one)I don’t know Hiroto’s character well enough and all that since I haven’t looked too much into the ship so I’m not sure canon hot takes on it, but I think you’ve got some good ones

Au sense: It depends on the Au but since my favourite Au involving Bakura is him running a cafe, so pretending thats the Au basis. I could see something cute happening either if its a first meeting type thing where Bakura figures he wants better security and stuff in the shop and Hiroto can be a mechanic who comes in to set up some security cameras for him, and being Bakura he can watch him from the counter not trusting him completely since he had the shop shut whilst they were putting them up so in his opinion there was nothing ‘better’ to do. 

Finding him interesting to watch in the end he offers him a muffin curiously and a coffee so they stay back afterwards and then like a day or so later Hiroto comes back and grins leaning on the table saying something along the lines of ‘you got me hooked’ Bakura asks if thats so, and Hiroto snickers saying, ‘this was your plan the entire time wasn’t it? New customers’ ‘maybe so?’ and then it turns into his regular coffee shop to visit sometimes he’ll visit before work and other times he’ll come in after a job and if its quiet Bakura takes a very convenient break and they have coffee and something to eat together. 

When Hiroto finally decides to see if Bakura will hang out outside of work, (Because in my opinion Bakura a bit of too much pride to ask first and risk rejection) and he invites him to game night with some of his friends Bakura met a few briefly when he brought them in to show of Bakura’s cooking. Since in this Au Hiroto invited him so the group class them as friends and they play on a team together, Bakura gets over competitive playing and starts making a huff and pouts which Hiroto just finds adorable snickering to himself at the whole ordeal over who had there hand on the fork first. 

Then they  ‘run’ into each other at the park (Bakura knew Hiroto jogs in the morning and had the morning off so went out and ‘ran’ into him) he jogged for a little while before just collapsing on a bench  and they sit there for a while. 

After a bit longer Bakura finally asked Hiroto to his place excusing wanting to try recipes on him since he was one of his best customers. A dinner like selection and if he wanted they could watch a movie as payment for helping taste test. Hiroto kinda hopes its a date but agrees regardless.

Bakura goes to a lot of effort cooking the previous day and testing things out and ensuring his ingredients were top notch because Bakura was the King of everything he did. Especially cooking. So he wanted to impress the other and they have a really fancy dinner which he is smirking like an idiot when ever his foods complemented and he listens intently to all the stuff Hiroto’s been fixing up and working on, looking at some photos on his phone finding he enjoyed the others selfies a lot and ensuring he  was off them and back to the pictures he was suppose to be focusing more on before handing back the phone. 

And he only has one couch so they both sit on it for the movie but they slowly get closer to each other, with the excuse of reaching the food Bakura made for them to snack on. And Bakura almost ‘blows up’ when they both reach for something in the bowl and their fingers brush (can’t decide what he made). 

And by the end of it all they spend the night just talking about anything they want to and they fall asleep on the couch and I kinda got carried away with this so just gonna stop here. 

And theres another paragraph on a different version of Hiroto and Bakura I wrote with the cafe Au in this post, scroll down a bit if your interested at all

-as I said I just like writing Bakura in a cafe Au-

other odd cafe notes-Bakura loves watching Hiroto tinker on little machinery in the cafe if its quiet he’ll sit watching him happily loving watching him work-Hiroto makes him odd little trinkets to display around the cafe-Bakura goes to hang out at Hiroto’s work on his days off and always brings something good to eat with him

And off topic-kinda, kinda not-basically its not on the cafe topic

But Bakura literally is almost obsessed (in love) with the fact that Hiroto can lift him up and hold him with ease, despite he denies it completely when asked but Hiroto knows better then to listen to what he says, he knows the satisfied/superior smile Bakura gets when he’s being held he just likes to pretend his all big and  strong and all big and strong people don’t get carried around (unless they’ve tried it, in which case Bakura after Hiroto makes it seem like his own idea and Bakura just grins and says ‘if you must’ or ‘if it’ll make you happy’ but he freaking loves it the entire time its so blissful being carried around by his boyfriend)

[theclaravoyant]

from the ashes [platonic fitzdaisy, S1/2]

AN ~ Not for any Bingos, but for a very patient Anon who asked for “Daisy being there for Fitz after Jemma left in S1/2″. I hope you like it!

Angst/Hurt/Comfort. platonic FitzDaisy, with background Bus Kids/FS as was canon compatible at that time. Rated G.

Read on AO3 (~2000wd)

from the ashes

Skye was busy a lot these days: May was a tough S.O., and there was a lot to be done in the wake of the fall of Shield, with hundreds if not thousands of agents in the wind who had to be tracked down, identified, and protected or blacklisted depending on which way they had turned. She had been plunged into the thick of it, but at least now she had the confidence of Coulson, May and the team on her side. Other team members were not faring so well, and especially not Fitz.

When Skye had first found out what had happened, who had done it, she was just about sick with rage. Her instinct had been to barrel after Ward, if not physically, then online. Expose him. Send the full forces of Shield to hunt him down. But there were more important things for them all to be doing and surely one of those things was helping Fitz. He had not died, after all; simply had the life he’d known blown to shrapnel. The problem with that was, though, that nobody knew how to pick up the pieces. Not Fitz himself, certainly not Skye, and not even poor Jemma, who poured her heart and soul into trying to help him and found herself running up against brick wall after brick wall after brick wall. Everything she tried to do seemed to hurt or stress or betray him, and he was so frustrated with everything, including himself, that even if he could figure out how to do it better, he couldn’t articulate it to her. Skye could never have imagined them becoming so broken, and even when they did, she couldn’t imagine Jemma leaving.

Then Jemma did.

This had shattered what was left of Fitz. His life, his friends, his confidence in himself. All of it was awash in a mad storm and Skye knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned by somebody she was sure had loved her, in one way or another. She knew all to well what Fitz must be feeling: after all, Jemma had never given either of them a reason for leaving, had never even said goodbye. Skye had thought – and so had Fitz apparently – that she had just been headed off on a visit home, but then she’d dropped off the radar. Just like that. Fitz had torn himself up over it for weeks, and had come to the conclusion that she had given up on him, or been repulsed, or been scared off: that, for whatever reason, she had abandoned him. Skye had tried and tried to promise him that was not the case, but she couldn’t give him an alternative. If she were being honest, she was feeling quite abandoned too.

Unfortunately, this didn’t really help her reach out to Fitz as much as she might like. He was feeling lower than he’d ever felt, and he was bitter and angry and horrifically depressed and honestly, Skye was worried about him, but if Jemma couldn’t help him, how could she? And it didn’t help that he struggled to communicate back, too. He was different to how he was before, and it unnerved Skye – it unnerved all of them – and though she was more ashamed by the minute to admit it, she knew the team was starting to abandon him too. They ignored him when he got upset, instead of trying to figure out why. They didn’t stop the lab techs from gossiping, or from avoiding Fitz in the hallways. They even started to avoid him themselves. It was cowardly, Skye knew, but what else was there to do? She was busy, she told herself. She was just too busy.

But she loved her friend, and it hurt to see him, hear him, feel him in pain. She just needed a push in the right direction, to help her passion overcome her hesitation, and today was the day she received that push, in the form of a crashing sound. It could have been a mistake, she thought, but then it was followed by another, and a howl of anger and despair.

It was coming from Fitz’s room, of all places, and Skye’s first thought was that he must be in danger so she ran up to his door with her heart in her throat. The smashes and thuds continued in a fairly regular pattern, with the occasional cursing and muttering and wordless screeches in between. Then there was a break. Perhaps he’d run out of things to throw around, but he seemed to be breathing heavily. Running out of momentum? Skye took a deep breath. It was now or never.

She keyed in his code and the door slid open.

Fitz turned to her and for a brief, brief moment she saw his body light up as if he thought that maybe, just maybe, it was Jemma coming home. When he saw that it was Skye, he froze up. There were books and clothes and sheets and instruments and souvenirs scattered about the place, some more broken than others, and he standing amongst it all. Helpless. Distressed. He held a plastic model Tardis in one hand, clenching and unclenching his fingers around it as if waiting for the fury and pain to bubble back up and inspire him to throw it to the ground, but it did not. It hovered below the surface, quelled by that brief moment of hope that all was not lost, and by the fact that Skye hadn’t turned and left him yet.

“I don’t think you want to do that,” Skye offered. “You don’t want to break that, Fitz. Maybe put it down?”

Fitz clenched his fist again, until he could feel the plastic straining against his fingers. Surely nothing would be such a satisfying cure to the tension beneath his skin, than to throw it into his dresser mirror, or similar. It probably wouldn’t break though, and his arm didn’t want to move anyway. Tension was turning to tears, overwhelmed by confusion and frustration and shame.

“It’s okay, Fitz, I’m not going to take it off you,” Skye assured him. “I just… I understand. I understand why you’re so hurt so angry, but this isn’t how you want to deal with it. I promise.”

He nodded. She waited a beat and asked,

“Can I come in?”

Fitz retreated and sat on the side of his bed. Skye stepped through the carnage to join him, and he realised as a bitter taste settled on his tongue, that she was right. Littered across the floor were Academy shirts and jackets and books he and Jemma had once studied together. A little carved monkey on a keychain, a gift she’d bought him from their first trip to the Central Park Zoo. An old copy of the Hobbit, with some of its pages scattered – it hadn’t been faring well before this onslaught, when Jemma had read it to Fitz at his bedside. Seeing it finally broken brought tears to his eyes, and all he could think of was how much Jemma loved that book. What had he done?

Skye inhaled slowly, heavily, as she took in the wreckage of the room. Beside her, Fitz whimpered with regret and heartache and Skye began to feel herself fill with the same. She’d been doing quite well with denying how much she missed Jemma, by hiding in the betrayal of it all just as well as Fitz did sometimes, but the loose ends still stung sometimes. Especially since she’d hoped to be putting those days behind her – which was part of the reason she had come in here. She took Fitz’s hand, the one not still half-heartedly clinging to the Tardis, and intertwined his fingers with hers. She leaned into him, until the warmth and pressure soothed them both.

“I don’t mean, like, you shouldn’t be angry,” she clarified solemnly. “I’m angry too, I get it. I know you loved her a lot and sometimes it feels like it was all some big joke and none of this is worth it anymore, right? It’s just- I’ve been there, and I wish somebody had stopped me.”

“…From what?” Fitz asked, after a moment.

Skye drew a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. More came to take their place, but apparently it was going to be that kind of a moment, so she let them be this time.

“You know how I was… I was in the foster system when I was a kid. Some of the homes, they sucked, but some of them were great. They were really great. But even the great ones kicked me out. Sent me back. I mean, now I know it was Shield making them do it, to keep me safe or whatever, but it still- it still hurt, you know?” She sniffed again, suddenly feeling acutely like that little girl all over again. She squeezed Fitz’s hand and pushed on. It had been so long since she’d thought about this, and felt it all, that now she couldn’t stop.

“One family, they bought me this camera,” she recalled. “Oh, it was beautiful. Way fancier than I knew anything about, so I spent weeks reading the manual and watching these tutorial things, learning everything I could about it. Taking pictures of literally everything. We went on a camping trip, me and them and their son and daughter, and I documented it all on this camera and I was going to scrapbook it and everything. I finally thought I was part of something. But of course…”

“They sent you back.”

“Yeah.” Skye blinked. Closed her eyes for a moment, lost in the bittersweet memory of her last few moments of peace at that house. “As soon as we got home. I didn’t even get to unpack.

“So of course I was furious, and I smashed the camera and ripped the manual all up and everything and it wasn’t until way later, after I’d run away and was living alone in my van feeling sorry for myself one night, that I realised… I’d destroyed everything I had of the people that had loved me. That had taken me into their home, their family. I could have done photography for money, I could have even sold the parts, but that’s not what I missed. It was the photos. It was the whole thing, what it meant. It was gone. Forever. All because I’d been a bit too angry for a few too many seconds.

“I just- I didn’t want that to happen with you and Simmons. That’s all.”

She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, and glanced at Fitz’s other hand – the one around the Tardis. He lifted it from his lap, and put the Tardis down on the bed-sheets beside him, safely away from impulsive hands. In silence, Fitz took a few moments to let Skye’s story sink in, and then squeezed her hand.

“Thank you,” he said. “I think- I think you’re right.”

“I hope I’m right,” Skye added.

“Me too.”

For a few more seconds, they sat in silence together, and then Fitz slid off the bed to the floor and began cleaning up the mess. As he cradled his precious copy of The Hobbit and tried to slip its fallen pages back into place, he had to wonder if – and if so, how – it might ever be the same again. Maybe it wouldn’t, he realised, but at least now, he had Skye kneeling beside him to help pick up the pieces. Perhaps this didn’t need to feel quite so much like an ending after all.

[walkerismychoice]

Body Language (Damien X MC)

Book: Perfect Match

Rating: PG-13 and a small bit of NSFW mentioned that you will miss if you blink

Note: This is the continuation of my canon-ish fic following Damien and MC's relationship development, taking liberties where I can without changing what happens in the actual book. Much of the quoted dialogue comes directly from the actual chapter but there is original dialogue and character/s as well.

Tag List: @simplyaiden-blog, @kamybelen-blog, @butindeed, @lizeboredom,

Word Count: 2498

Master List Damien X MC Series - Find other fics in the series here

Two weeks had passed since Steve disappeared and Nadia was still a wreck. She seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown, spending all her time and energy trying to put the pieces together to figure out what happened. Kai was growing more concerned about her every day. Luckily Damien had come through and was finding some leads. The more information Kai learned, the more things didn’t add up. Steve’s social media accounts were wiped clean; his work had never heard of him. Damien promised to keep working on the case to see what else he could find.

In the meantime, Kai felt guilty that things were going well with Hayden. Nadia was still falling apart, but she couldn’t let that be a reason to put her relationship on hold. Hayden took Kai to the opera and the date was amazing, it really was. Hayden got box seats for them and even showed his rebellious side, sneaking Kai backstage after the show. So why did Kai still feel like something was missing?

Hayden made a comment about feeling sometimes like he was outside of himself, just going through the motions. Kai joked about it, asking Hayden if he was an alien or something, but the truth was, she actually did kind of feel like she was going through the motions with Hayden. When he was going down on her, making her come backstage at the opera house, she should have been in the moment with Hayden. Instead, she was imagining it was Damien. She couldn’t get him out of her head and she had to do something about it.  Exactly what, she wasn’t sure, but she had to start pushing Damien to see if there could be something real between them. She felt bad stringing Hayden along, but he really was a great guy. Maybe once she had an answer either way on the Damien situation, she could make a clear decision about her future with Hayden.

Kai mulled over all of this on the ride to Philadelphia. Damien was cryptic about why they were going, but it had something to do with Steve. Kai wanted to get to the bottom of this for Nadia’s sake, but truthfully she was happy to spend whatever time she could with Damien, and standing on the street watching Damien in intense defective mode was hot. She thought there was no time like the present to start testing the waters with him.

“Damien, it’s cute to see you in full detective mode. All intense and mysterious with your clues and sneaking and–”

Before Kai could finish Damien cut her off. “Get Back!” He held out an arm and pressed Kai against the wall, his chest to her back. He whispered in her ear, his voice quiet but commanding. “Keep quiet and watch.” Probably only seconds passed but it was enough time for inappropriate thoughts to float through Kai’s mind. She knew she should be focusing on whatever they were there to see, but all she could think about was the length of his firm body pressed to hers and his warm lips grazing her ear sending shivers down her spine as he gave directives. Damien then lifted his arm and pointed across the street “There.” Kai looked and couldn’t believe what she saw. It was Steve but he looked nothing like he did just a few weeks ago; now with green hair, piercings, and a leather jacket. What happened to the straight-laced looking Steve that Nadia knew?

 =====

Damien was glad his leads paid off and they had found Steve, but nothing made sense. He changed his looks and truly seemed to not know who they were when he cornered them. Damien would have thought he Steve had an identical twin if the scar from the car accident hadn’t given him away.  All of this added to the fact that Cecile from Eros was in the background of the picture of Steve with his dad in high school pointed to something suspicious. Poor Nadia was devastated all over again because she now had more questions than answers. At least she had taken Damien’s suggestion to take the self-defense class with Kai. Getting some of that aggression out had to help.

Speaking of Kai, Damien was starting to get some more mixed signals from her. She seemed to be going strong with Hayden, but there were little things that he would normally interpret as flirting going on between Kai and himself. He didn’t even have a chance to process or respond when Kai called him cute when they were in Philadelphia looking for Steve. And her telling him he was the Watson to her Sherlock and gushing about how good he was at his job after interrogating Steve. Her nudging him back playfully when he nudged her with his elbow. Like Kai said, he was good at reading body language and analyzing demeanor, but he was second guessing himself with her because he was so scared to get it wrong.

The confusion with Kai coupled with the mystery surrounding Steve led Damien to do something he never thought he would do in a million years. He decided to try and get matched up through Eros. He told himself it was mostly so he could get a look at Eros from the inside, but if Kai was going to be with Hayden, he hoped maybe he could find someone too. He didn’t want to die alone if Kai would never love him back the way he loved her.  Unfortunately he was rejected by Eros. Maybe they were onto him because he asked too many questions, or they figured out what he did for a living, but maybe he just wasn’t good enough, and the thought of this really had him down.  He did have some investigative findings to share with Kai, so he called her up and asked her to meet him in front of Eros.  

Kai met Damien just as he walked outside. He explained what he found: cameras all over the place, security patrolling every floor, key cards for all employees, and a loading dock out back. It was more locked down than a government research facility. Kai did agree that this was strange, but she seemed more interested in Damien’s motives for taking the Eros quiz.

“The Perfect Match Quiz? Why?”

Damien grabbed the back of his neck and groaned. “I don’t know. Curiosity maybe?”

“And?” Kai pressed.

Ugh, he had to say it out loud. “They said, and I quote…I’m ‘ineligible for a perfect match.’

"Damien…They’re idiots, I think you’re great”

“Oh, I know.” As soon as he said it, he felt like an asshole. Kai was being sincere; maybe even insinuating Damien was great in a more than just friends way. He couldn’t just accept the compliment and have a moment with her. He had to deflect with sarcasm to avoid real feelings like he always did.

“Wow, never again am I playing the compassionate human card with you.” Kai had a smile on her face, but there was a hint of disappointment there. “I just don’t understand why they would reject you?”

“Heh, who knows? It seems my skeptical reputation precedes me. I guess I didn’t make the exclusive cut.” Damien laughed and tried to play it off like he wasn’t bothered but he wasn’t sure Kai was buying it. “I’m fine Kai…Yeah, let’s not waste time talking about this. Anyway, I’m about to head to a nearby pub for a drink. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“Don’t tell me…Archer and Hopps? Nadia says that’s where you go for some serious brooding time.”

“Dammit Nadia…” Shit, he didn’t mean to say that loud. “No, I mean yeah. But only come if you want to.

"Do you want me to?” Kai asked expectantly.

“I wouldn’t say yes if it was anyone else, but…Yes, I’d like that. Shall we?” And he truly meant it. There was no one else Damien would rather be with at that moment.

======

Kai looked around at the decor in Archer and Hopps. She didn’t know why she had pictured some dive bar, but this place was actually nice. The bartender Flynn clearly knew Damien well. If he came here to brood, maybe Flynn would be the one person Damien actually opened up to. Kai wondered if she could get anything out of him.

“So…any deep dark secrets about Damien you’re willing to share Flynn?” Kai saw a look of panic cross Damien’s face as his eyes went wide. Flynn had to know things about Kai. What else would Damien be so afraid of?

“Nope, Bartenders code of conduct. Though you’d be more than welcome to pry…if you can beat Damien at the Nazario chug.”

“Why? Why would you bring up the Nazario chug?” Kai sensed Damien was starting to regret brining her here. Flynn brought out a deck of and poured two Dark and Stormys. Basically, the game was just truth or dare with a deck of cards, which meant Damien was bound to have to share some secrets and Kai was all for it. “I’d suggest not playing a game named after me. But seeing you do a few dares would make me feel better.”

Kai was up first and drew a red card which meant truth. Damien went straight for a big one. “How are things going with Hayden?”

Kai had not had enough alcohol yet to answer this truthfully. What was she supposed to say? ‘He’s great but I’d dump him in an instant if you told me you wanted to be with me?’ And she didn’t want to say things were going well and discourage Damien, so she decided to dodge the question and drink.  “Not your business, cheers!”

“Scared you’re going to hurt my feelings?”

“Didn’t think you had any.”

Damien laughed as Kai took her 5 sips per the number on the card. “You won’t Kai, I’ll sort out my love life eventually. On my own terms. My own pace.”

Kai didn’t know what to make of Damien’s reaction. He was the one who brought up his feelings being affected by Kai and Hayden but then he played it off like he didn’t care. What did ‘I’ll sort out my love life eventually’ even mean? Was it possible it really did have something to do with her and he would get around to dealing with it when he was ready? At this rate, Kai and Damien would be dead before Damien got up the courage to say anything.

Damien drew a three of cluns, so Kai came up with an idea to embarrass him by making him yell a list of compliments about her to the whole bar, including how hot she was. If Damien wasn’t going to say what he really felt, she would make him do it, even if it was just for show.

Much to Kai’s surprise, Damien chugged his drink and hopped up on the bar, asking for the whole room’s attention. This is not what she expected from the Damien she knew. “I’d like to take a moment to celebrate my friend who’s here with me tonight. Kai is the most brilliant, funny, and not to mention hottest person in this room. So cheers to Kai, whom I adore very much.” Damien jumped down from the bar with a grin. “Happy?” Kai really was happy. She made Damien smile, but it was also good to hear him say those nice things about her, even if it was forced. He said he adored her, and it felt genuine.

The game went on for a while with Kai and Damien downing nearly three quarters of a bottle of Bacardi between them. Flynn came over to check in and shuffled the deck with a mischievous look on his face. He handed the deck to Damien who drew a queen of hearts. Damien glared at Flynn who had obviously set him up.

“It’s a special draw.” Flynn explained. “Can’t be skipped. And the question must revolve around one’s love life.”

Kai though carefully. She wanted so bad to ask about Damien how he really felt about her, but she still wasn’t feeling brave enough. She asked about his last serious relationship instead.

“Don’t think anyone’s asked me that before...” Damien laughed nervously, averting his eyes and twirling his drink. “She was my partner when I worked at NYPD. Fierce, incredibly smart. Difficult…some would say. We worked together at Interpol overseas, and it was good…for a while. Then our case went south. I was shipped back home, and she had a choice. Me or the job. I…I really though she’s choose me for a second.” Damien moved on to joking about Eros, saying he was glad he got rejected up front rather than facing heartbreak or divorce later, but Kai could tell he was hurting.

“Eros has got stats and science, but they don’t know you, Damien.” Kai reached for Damien’s hand “You’re a good guy…and an even better friend. You’ll find the right person.”

“Thanks, Kai. Means a lot.” Damien gazed into Kai’s eyes briefly but then abruptly stood up. “It’s getting late. But I’m…glad you came with me.”

The look in Damien’s eyes told Kai more than his words had all evening, and for a moment she found the courage to say what was on her mind.  “Me too. But wait, before we go, I need to ask you something. I need to know before things get more serious with Hayden; do you still have feelings for me?”

Damien was taken aback and fumbled for words. “I…uh…why…” Before he could come up with a coherent response, a woman walked into the bar and his attention was focused on her. She walked right up to the two of them. She appeared a bit rough around the edges but she was pretty and about the same age as Damien, maybe a couple years older.

“Hey Damien! How have you been? I was hoping you would call me again after the other night. We had a lot of fun together.” Did this woman have no tact?

The woman was facing Damien and away from Kai. Kai mouthed to Damien. ‘Is that her?’

Damien nodded almost imperceptibly. “Kai this is Amber. Amber this is my best friend Kai.”

Amber turned to face Kai and looked her up and down. “Oh, so this is Kai.”

How did Amber know who she was? Did Damien talk about Kai with everyone except Kai herself? Whatever moment she and Damien were having was now over, and she didn���t feel like playing nice with Amber. “Damien, I’m going to catch a cab home. “

“Wait just a second. I’ll walk out with you.” Damien grabbed his coat.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Stay and hang out with your friend. I’ll talk to you soon.” Damien opened his mouth to object but Kai turned and walked out the door, and he didn’t follow.

[theoutersphere]

A DOZEN SOULS FROM THE SUPERETTE

           Susan Jenkins dropped the receipt on the coffee table and pulled a silver 35mm camera out of a tattered red leather case. It was a single lens reflex, SLR, camera which meant it was able to have the lens interchanged and had a through-the-lens viewfinder. An exceedingly rare trait for a camera supposedly dating back to the first world war.    

Around that time cameras were made with a peep hole in the back that led out through a front window positioned above the lens. What you saw through the peep hole was not exactly what the lens was pointed at unless the photographer was a certain distance away from their subject. Farther away from the subject meant the viewfinder and lens lined up perfectly.  

           This silver camera's technology of through the lens viewing allowed a person to see through the back of the camera and through the lens at what it was pointed at no matter the distance. This was not a commercial technology until sometime after the second world war and not common for photojournalists until around the United States' Vietnam War.

           Holding it steady, she looked at the front of the silver camera and silently read the word "Unicorn" that was displayed across a brass plate above the lens. That is usually where most modern camera brand names are listed, above the lens, familiar brands like Canon, Pentax, or Minolta.

           A thin man with oil-slick black hair, Lieger, sat across from her on the sofa and spoke with a slight German accent, "You like?"

           "Oh, yes," she said excitedly.

           "Did you read the description I posted with it," he asked.

           She glanced up to him, "I must admit I only read the first part." She looked back down to the camera with warmth as if to a puppy, "But then I saw the pictures you posted too, and I just fell in love with its body.”

Lieger followed her warm glance, "It is exquisite is it not."

           "Please, tell me what it said," she implored.

           With the body language of a praying mantis Lieger leaned forward and supported his thin forearms on his knees. He intertwined his fingers as he began telling her, "Before the First World War broke out there was an engineer with a passion for photography. He was commissioned to get visual content for German propaganda. But as the war took its toll on Germany's resources, he was transferred to the fighting front with only a rifle. He had no camera. What was he to do without his passion and only death around him?" Lieger paused for an answer but did not give her time, "Design one, he told himself. According to his journals he spent an hour or so a night before going to sleep hiding in a rat-infested trench coming up with the idea and doing drafts."

           Susan glanced down at the Unicorn camera with deeper appreciation.

           Leaning in and pointing at the camera with a thin white knobby finger he asked, “And do you know how he created the body?”

           She craned her neck up slow as if lifting a heavy load, and her eyes adjusted on his excited gaze.

           “He melted coins. Coins, my dear, were still made of mostly silver. Ninety percent to be exact,” he said proudly of his knowledge.

           “It must be five pounds of it,” she commented. Her pupils enlarged.  

"It’s only a bit over a pound of silver. The rest is copper. Ten percent is copper.”  Not missing a beat, he went on, “I am not selling it for its silver weight, please don’t worry. I want it to be used. Now, let me go on. When the engineer lost a leg because of shelling he was sent back to the rear with other wounded soldiers. That is where he made use of the designs, he had drafted along with the coins that he collected off the dead. He melted them down and tooled them out. A few decades later Hitler heard of this camera. He sent Paul Joseph Goebbels and troopers to the engineer’s home. The camera's engineer was never heard from again."

           Lieger pointed to the silver camera in Susan's hands, "This camera was found undamaged in Hitler's bunker. The lad who found it had been forced into the bunker as a translator for a couple of Russian soldiers when the city was being occupied. The two Russians were intelligence forces, excuse me, were with the intelligence forces, I believe is how you say that. They had orders to investigate rumors of Hitler's death. The Russians went into other rooms and during that time, alone, the translator realized the importance of where he was. He was at the pinnacle of a World War.” Lieger looked to the coffee-table and at his empty teacup.

           Seconds of silence passed, “Would you like some tea?” She asked.

           He spoke quietly and deliberate, "That room in the bunker was especially important he realized. Because not only was Hitler a commander in a World War but a commanding general in the forever war between good and evil. At that very moment, the young translator looked hard and quick around himself in that bunker.” Lieger had raised that white knuckled index finger as he spoke more sternly, “A flickering reflection caught the young translator’s eye. There on a side table, in the corner of the quarters, he saw the silver of the camera echoing back the light from the flickering bulb."  

      Susan was amazed- “Wow. Why do you wanna sell it to me?"

      "It has been hard to sell because of the story. I am sorry. That is not what I mean. I mean it is easy to sell to the kind of people who will not use it. The only people interested are, how do you say?”

           “I don’t understand?” she said with a quizzical expression.

“They are butterfly collector types. They want to jail its beauty. Put it on a wall.” He explained and added, “See it was built to take beautiful pictures and it still can. That is why I am visiting you. To see what kind of person you are."

           Susan tried to quickly assure him of what type of buyer she was, “I will use it I assure- “

           He interrupted, "You would appreciate such craftsmanship a simple butterfly collector could not, I feel." Shaking his finger in a-matter-of-fact fashion he went on, "After you put a bid on it, I researched you. Not being sneaky, mind you, it is all public information. What you, you, have bought from the internet markets and from your posts on social sites, I saw that you collect working cameras, and you use them." He nodded toward the camera, "This camera being from Hitler would certainly have been put on display.”

           Susan suddenly asked, "Oh, what about a flash?"

           "No need," he said with a grin and explained more, "See this ring around the lens near the body, you can turn it down to point-zero-two. A good camera lens will usually go down to one-point-two. This design will allow you to open the aperture wider than normal to take in light from one dancing candle. It will also capture the light from a dying wick. Pure magic."

     Susan took the lens off the camera’s body and placed the camera next to the receipt on the coffee table. She pointed the lens up at the bulb that was socketed in the slow-moving ceiling fan. She turned the aperture ring Lieger mentioned. There were tiny ticks with each turn as the circle in the center of the lens opened wider. She did not hesitate to comment, "Some might say that's impossible mister Lieger; however, I'm going to trust you on that." She picked up the camera body and remounted the lens, "All the mechanics seem to work!"

           "I am glad you approve."

           "Oh, you have no idea," she said with a friendly smile and stood.

      "It will be happy here then. Now I must go before I miss my plane. I could stay and talk about it all evening, but I have a few hours’ drive and the weather is getting worse."

       "I'm eager to start doing test runs myself. The superette down the road still develops film and they close at five." Susan mentioned while walking him to the door.

      "In this day and age?"

      "We may be a small Mississippi town, but we're a college town and liberal art students need a film developer. At least one to do the color negatives," she explained.

      "I see. Well, you are welcome to stay in touch.”

      "I'd like that. And you have a safe trip."

      "Thank you and it was nice meeting you-" Already out the door Lieger gave a haphazard wave. A gust of wind slightly fluttered his oxford shirt that looked to be about two sizes too big.

      She shut the door and checked the time on her cell phone. It read 3:06pm.

            Susan left the camera’s tattered case in the car and shut the car door. She started her trek when a sudden wind brought a mist through the parking lot. Susan cupped the camera under the black pea coat she wore.

           The cold took one last lick of her as she reached the entrance. When the superette’s door opened, she was engulfed with warm air. Before the doors even closed behind her a security guard offered her a cart and she turned it down with a simple shake of the head.

           After a long walk to the back, she turned onto the film aisle and scanned shelves for film.

There was one-hundred speed film for bright days, snowy days or for portrait shots in bright artificial light. The four-hundred speed film is good for your regular run-of-the-mill inside or outside shots, and it's a newspaper film, a good knock around film speed. The sixteen-hundred speed film was mainly for nighttime photos.

           It's the eight-hundred speed film that will be good in the superette, where every 4th florescent bulb is flickering or out. Not nighttime but also not a fully lit environment.

           She picked out a twelve-roll exposure from a display case of assorted film. She read the green cover. It had "800" in large print on it.

From her back pocket came a song with the lyrics, "I can see her lying back in her satin dress. In a room where you do what you don't confess. Sundown, you better take care. If I find you been creeping around my back stairs,” She finally dug out her cell phone and answered, "Hey babe!"

           Her husband was on the other end, "Another one? Where are you?"

           Stress lines appeared between her eyes, "I'm testing film for it right now." There was a loud thump and then some knocking around.

           George replied angrily, "Two-thousand dollars for a camera?"

           “What was that noise, George?” Susan asked sternly.

           “Don’t worry about it!” He replied.

           “You kicked the coffee table didn’t you.” She answered.

           “Baby come on; you can’t just go spending willy-nilly.”

           "Hitler owned it."

           George’s voice spilled through the phone in an insulting manner, "Hitler owned it? Come on, I didn’t marry that big of a sucker, did I?"

           “It doesn’t matter what I believe. That same story will get me more than I paid, especially if it works.” She said firmly and ended the call abruptly putting the phone in her back pocket. She formed a smile and approached the photo department's long-haired cashier who walked up to the counter when she saw Susan approach.

           Lieger parked his dark blue BMW in the superette's lot about three cars closer to the store than Susan's. He turned off his phone's GPS with the superette’s directions on it and put it in his pocket. He exited the car.

Untroubled by the cold wet wind he popped the trunk. Filling his trunk were five-gallon buckets with black lids. He pulled the handle up on a few and grimaced each time then let go of them. Rain dripped from his nose as he found a lighter bucket and removed it. He shut the trunk with his other hand. He returned to the driver's side.

He leaned over and sat the bucket down in the passenger's seat just before he got into the driver’s seat and shut the car’s door. After shaking rain off his greasy hair, he puckered his lips and blew a drip of water off the tip of his nose.

           She flipped open the back of the silver Unicorn camera and immediately began loading the newly purchased film into it. She made sure not to expose any film from the canister, besides the normal first few lead frames that hook into the camera’s back spool. Once she had the spool looped with film Susan turned the spool’s lever. It tightened the film across the guide rails. She closed the back cover that held the pressure plate against the film inside.

She took the tail of her brown blouse from under her coat and wiped the lens clean, but a couple of threads from her shirt stayed on the lens. She held the lens up close to her mouth and gave a few blows of air. The lint disappeared in the first swoosh of breath.

           She lifted the camera pressing the small square viewfinder on the back to her eye. She sat the aperture to five. She put the shutter on one-sixtieth of a second and pointed the camera at the long-haired clerk that leaned over a printing machine checking prints. "Hey," Susan called out.

           The clerk jerked a look toward Susan, "Wait!"

           Susan snapped the picture. In that sixtieth of a second a sliver of a needle poked Susan in the corner of her eye and slipped back into the camera’s viewfinder unnoticed by anyone. Susan did not feel it, like one does not feel a paper cut right away.

           "It's okay. They're tests," Susan said to the clerk.  

           "Don't go sharing them!"

           Susan smiled, "Don’t worry, just tests."

Ready to take another shot, she moved through a nearby an aisle of digital storage devices and computer monitors still in brand new flashy boxes. Her eyes scanned the shoppers littered about. “This is going to take no time,” she whispered to herself.

           With his car running and the heat on low Lieger wiped condensation from the interior driver's side window. He peeled the lid off the empty bucket and put them both in the back seat within reach. He cracked a grin as he swiped a glance toward Susan's car then to the store front. He noticed that a security guard had come out and was lighting a cigarette. Lieger lost his grin and his eyes narrowed.  

           Susan stood below a "Shoe Department" sign. She let the camera hang from her neck and took a deep breath then looked at her palms. They glistened with moisture under the flickering fluorescent. She put her hands under her peacoat and wiped them on her dry blouse. Seeing a woman inspecting shoes Susan pulled her hands out and snapped a photo quickly. The needle from the viewfinder did what it does, in and out of her eye at the instant of the snap. No pain and she did not see it.

           The lady in the shoe department immediately doubled over. She reached for the arm of a nearby chair and finally clutched it after two attempts. She used the chair for support as she stammered closer to it and plumped down. She slouched forward and rested her head in hands. She took deep breaths.

           Seeing this Susan went back to the photo department and found the long-haired clerk loading paper into the printer. “Excuse me, mam.” Susan announced.

           “Hold on,” replied the clerk and finished loading the paper and stood up. “What can I help you with?”

           “I think its an emergency. I was over in the shoe department testing the camera and saw a lady collapse. Well, she almost did. Hs may need help.”

           The clerk started walking toward the shoe department and asked “Was she in it or near the department?”

           “She was in it, sitting in one of them chairs.”

           “Okay thanks,” the clerk replied.

           Susan, with the silver camera, pivoted and marched to the hunting and fishing department where she stopped behind a life-size deer decoy. She held the camera chest high while watching a customer at the cash register. He was brawny with biceps that bulged beneath his short-sleeved camo shirt. He was intent in his inspection of a scoped rifle.

           She stepped out from behind the decoy’s antlers and moved slowly towards the bearded man. She stopped about ten feet from him.

           As he faced the counter, he raised the rifle up above his black beard and rosy cheeks putting the scope to his right eye. In front of him was the hunting department's sales counter and behind it was a display of more rifles and some shotguns. He turned to check the scope’s long-range focus. Susan's peacoat, only ten feet away, filled the scope’s viewfinder.

           Click.

           The thin needle did the same thing, in and out of her eye in the instant of the shutter’s click. No pain grimaced across Susan’s face and her eyes never darted to the needle’s microscopic orifice.

           The hunter lowered the rifle and apologized for pointing it towards her, "I'm sorry mam, didn't see you. I was just checking the scope."

Susan attempted to wind the mechanical lever so that another empty frame would take its spot behind the lens for exposure, but it would not wind. She tried three times. She looked at the picture count indicator on top. It read "12." She recounted each photo she had taken while whispering, "The photo department, men's department, this picture in the hunting department."

           "You're f- 'n crazy lady," yelled the bearded man from behind her.

           Susan, in her own world, continued mumbling, "Arts and crafts department, toy department, the couple in lawn and garden, the mother in the baby department, a picture in the electronics department, shoe department, fabric department." She began the left hand again, "kitchenware and lady's department."  She looked at her last fingers she unfolded for the count, "That's twelve."

           She froze and tilted her head slanting her gaze inward. The pulse of blood flowing through her ear drums amplified outward and the blood in her neck bulged the length of worms and squirmed judiciously down her jugular in segments.

 She hurried back to the photo department rewinding the film. At the photo counter she took the full roll out of the Unicorn camera and handed it to the approaching long-haired clerk.

           "How fast can you get these developed?" asked Susan.

           The long-haired clerk looked up at the clock behind her on the wall and smartly said, "Come back in an hour. Oh wait, we'll be closed. Come back in the morning around nine."

           Susan, in her haste, let the smart remark go over her head and pleaded, "Is there any extra attention you can give regular customers?"

      "Let me call the manager."

           "Wait!" Susan dug in the black peacoat pocket and pulled out a damp fifty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."

           The clerk palmed the bribe, "Give me around twelve minutes.”

           “Thank you,” Susan said.

Stopping short, the clerk turned back to Susan and returned the bribe, “You know, don’t worry about it. That lady was having a heart attack. An ambulance is on the way.”

           “Oh good, I mean good an ambulance is coming.”

           “I know what you meant. Just give me a few minutes and we’ll have your pictures right out.”

“Thank you again,” Susan said with glee as the clerk walked away with the film canister.

           Lieger took a last puff from a cigarillo and thumped it out of his driver’s side window into the cold day. He raised the window as he watched the superette's entrance. Still no Susan he grunted and exited the car.  

           With eyes closed, Susan held two fingers to her neck as she checked her pulse.

           "I'm sorry, but there's a ghosting."

           Susan opened her eyes, "A ghosting?"

           The long-haired clerk chunked an envelope on the counter.

           Susan fanned out the pictures and spotted a cloud of some sort in front of her subjects. It was on each picture. She stopped at the bearded man's picture and brought it quickly up for closer inspection. In it, there was a white transparent globe in front of him. Though transparent, what it covered was out of focus, slightly blurry. Where his beard was there was only the shape and no sharp outline of it. Where the rifle was in the picture, that he had pointed at her when she snapped it, was only a dark area in the fuzzy shape of a rifle. It mixed with the earth tones of his camouflage shirt. She sat that picture aside.

Shuffling back through the photos she noticed the white stuff was all about the same size in each photo and they too were as transparent. Each exploded out of the person’s mouth in a billowing fog.

      Susan looked at the lens on her camera, "I don't see any smudges. Maybe it's your machine?"

       The clerk looked to her from the printer, "It's on your negatives too and I checked the processor. It's something with your camera. Maybe there's a smudge on that mirror inside that flips up and down when you click it."

      Looking at the clerk's name tag Susan asked, "It's Martha, right? I'm sorry I forgot your name. I'll look in-" Her speech was interrupted as she buckled over in pain. She dry-heaved then said, "I feel sick." She swooped up the envelope and photos then hurried away cupping the camera against her stomach.

Looking through the front windows of the superette, Lieger's large dull eyes, in dark socket, sparked to life as he saw a hunched over, Susan coming toward him.  She walked quickly toward the front door where he stood in wait on the other side. Oblivious to him, she finished stuffing the pictures and negatives back into the envelope as she hustled forward.

Ripping his gaze off Susan, Lieger ducked his head and pivoted slightly away from the window where he had stood.

Just as quickly as she had opened the door, she darted her gaze back down to the envelope of photos and stuffed the last one inside. Before the door closed behind her Lieger bumped into her. She dropped the envelope.

"Oh dear! I'm sorry," Lieger said.

           Off balance Susan grabbed her stomach and tried bending forward to recover the spilled contents of the envelope. Instead, Lieger picked the pictures up. "You do not look well." He said.

           "I think... I'm about to throw up."

           He put an arm around her in a seemingly comforting manner and he steered Susan in the direction of his parked car, "Let me drive you home."

      The security guard stepped out and loudly asked, "Can I help ya’ll?"

      Lieger slowed their pace and glanced back, "It’s okay sir, I'm her friend."

     The guard asked, "Ma'am, is it Okay?"

Susan tried to give a friendly wave to the guard, but her arm fell short, "It's okay." She glanced slightly up to Lieger who was steering her along with his arm, “I don’t want to puke in your car.”

           "We can roll the window down,” replied Lieger.

           She struggled the words out. "And your flight?"

      "It was delayed, and I remembered this store."

      Susan didn’t say anything else as she was helped into the car. A sharp pain shot through her abdomen when she tried to buckle her seat belt. She tried to buckle it again but doubled over and dry-heaved. Moisture formed around the edges of her mouth with each heave of her stomach. More and more until a white ooze dripped out of the corners. She wiped her mouth between heaves.

      After getting into the driver’s side seat, Lieger put the keys into the ignition and cranked the car.

      "Put the window all the way down," she struggled out.

      "I do not think so," he calmly said and hit the switch that locked her door.

      Susan doubled over in pain again as he put her Unicorn camera in the back seat. He took the envelope from her lap and gathered the pictures from it. With them neatly in his hand he started going through them, "They are beautiful."

           Susan grunted out, "What?"

           When he thumbed through to the last photo his thin-lipped smile widened, "Perfect."

           "Please lower it," she cried with her head resting against the window. She breathed like a fish out of water as windblown rain spat against the window.

           Lieger looked away from the pictures and said to Susan as she contorted again from pain, "The needle is so tiny and thinner than the edge of the sharpest razor." He reached into the back seat and grabbed the empty black bucket, "You used a twelve-roll exposure film. Then we should need only one bucket." He put it on the floorboard between her knees, "Put your head over this."

           She did so.

           Lieger talked calmly and pat the back of her soaked head, "You are so pale Susan. Like ivory. What a sweet analogy.” He continued to pat her head and grinned while doing so, “In my country, when I was young, my grandmother had ivory vases that she kept many different flowers in.” He paused, looked at her with care, his eyes had warmth, as if the sheen of indifference that covered his pupils since leaving her house had rolled back in his head. “Susan, I lied to you. The camera he designed and made was to steal enemy souls. He never wanted Germany to lose a life in war again. But the first war was over by the time it was built. When Hitler discovered the camera, it was through the eyes of his maddening mind, and I do not think people around him truly believed the camera was able take souls. He seemed even madder to them when he spoke of it.” Lieger paused and was looking beyond the parking lot and world around him when he continued, “See, there was no translator that discovered it, Susan. Hitler assigned my great grandfather to be its caretaker." He looked from the rain that whipped against the windshield, "How can good triumph with all its souls stolen? It cannot." He tightly gripped Susan’s dripping black hair and lifted it back out of the way of her face she held over the opened bucket.

           Liger described her ordeal she was suffering, “That ooze coming out of your mouth is your body’s normal defense mechanism. It is a lubricant for anything that you reject. It makes it easier to expel things, so they do not lodge in your throat and cause you to suffocate. But don’t worry, what you are about to dispel is of no solid matter. Your body does not know that though. So do not be alarmed.”

           Susan jerked forward then back.

           “The inside of your mouth is drawing up into itself as the contents of your stomach climb and grapple up the walls of your insides.”

           He leaned forward and when he got to her level he could see her face, “I pulled the hair from your face not so it would get anything on it, but so I could see your expression. Well, and to make sure all the contents get into the bucket too, I do suppose.” He stared at her as her mouth opened like a scream. White foam dripped out in knots. She would close it to swallow then open it again like she was about to throw up. Unlike when she was dry heaving there were no painful grimaces or doubling over. She just held her head there and opened her mouth each time.

           “Let me get your mind off it for a minute. If it comes while I talk, I will stop rambling so we can concentrate on the matter at hand. Shall I begin?”

           Susan replied with nothing, it was as if Lieger was not there. Her mouth only opened again for vile matter to be tossed forth out of it, but nothing came. Just a slow drip of white foam. She closed her mouth and swallowed.

           “I will tell you something Susan, at your house, I learned where and when you would be testing the camera. And even after knowing all that information I went into auto mode and said to keep in touch. Why would I have to set up a correspondence when you already told me everything I needed to intercept you. Well, it is good practice cause in the end something might have interfered with your plans. For example, a neighbor could have visited and stayed too long. If that had happened without setting up some sort of communications, it might take me another day or three to figure out a way to peacefully intercept you and get what I need. Plus, A hotel room for three days is more expensive than not one at all. And I had no flight planned but I do now. I’m going to book one for tonight. I’m having warm thoughts of Berlin while you sit there growing paler like death has taken you and decay has set in.” He studied her after saying all that. She had the same open mouth expression as she had when he started. He leaned in even closer and said angrily through grit teeth, “I’m thinking of sitting by the fire smoking a fat cigar and sipping scotch. What are you thinking of right now?”    

She screamed twelve liquid souls into the black bucket between her legs. They splattered like thick clumps of sour milk and a warm fog rose over the bucket’s edge.

           No more comes out of her.  

           He snatched up her weak head by the hair and put the lid onto the full bucket. He hit a button on his door and unlocked Susan's. Reaching over her back he opened the passenger's door. He twisted his body in his seat and brought up his long thin right leg. He gave it a kick pushed her out. He reached over and shut her door.

           Lieger’s tires streamed rain in an arch as he drove his dark blue BMW away, with his bucket of souls, as Susan struggled to her feet.

           A distant pop came.

Concrete chipped up beside her feet.

Then another couple of pops came muffled by the damp air.

           Drenched, Susan turned to the front of the store and saw the bearded man through the rain. He had the rifle up to his eye.      

            She wobbled weakly, left to right, like a dead reed of wheat. She tightly closed her pale eyes being thumped by heavy drops fell from the sky. Moments later, when she had opened them the security guard had tackled the bearded rifleman and they wrestled at the Superette’s front door. She shrank into herself and sat in the parking lot just the sound of an ambulance siren grew louder as it neared.

[stone-man-warrior]

December 11, 2020: 4:24 pm:

https://www.google.com/search?q=all+fours+push+over&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwi82JS7lsftAhXEgZ4KHTSjBBsQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=all+fours+push+over&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzIECCMQJ1CKKliZMWDDNGgAcAB4AIABf4gBsAWSAQMwLjaYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZ8ABAQ&sclient=img&ei=Qw3UX_yqJsSD-gS0xpLYAQ&bih=671&biw=1472&client=firefox-b-1-d

The “All Fours Push-Over Prank” brought to you by Salvation Army at Bell Ring Store Front near you.

Same photo angle, different photos.

That’s Stevie Bell Terror cell at 445 Jackpine getting ready to do an attack at my house. They need to do all kinds of drama in advance to make the scenario work in their favor. The way it is now, and has been, in some pf the lies that are told, Stevie Bell is said to be my son, and that we don‘t get along very well, and he lives across the street right there. That lie has been perpetuated for about eight years, I have no control over it, the county courts are in charge of that lie, and use that as a way to lure US Federal Officers, so that the local authority terror cells can kill the federal officers. That is done so that national Sheriff Association can make recommendation for replacement terror associated officers later on, after the wake is over at the federal building.

What you see there is a 24 foot U-Haul Moving Truck in the driveway, and the Lindsey Bell black nissan w/shiny trim is there that I explain about sometimes, and that other black truck is a USPS Goonz Squad terror operative, maybe from Portland Oregon, is associated with United States Postal Service terror cell called “The Stork”.

They have done the exact same scenario countless times, enough that I know it’s bullshit, and the black truck is a USPS assassin who is here to kill me, and cart away my belongings in the U-Haul, while Stevie Bell plays the innocent grieving son who wishes he had spent more time with his dad, who died of COVID, because that black truck from USPS Goonze Squad, is COVID, an assassin.

That link to the Google search is a distant relative of what is happening at Bell’s across the street. A terror attack at the Walmart, also happening now.

I just returned from shopping in Socio-Terrific Dystopia, Grants Pass. where conditions are 100% terror controlled for slaughter, is ongoing, Dystopian terror in a place that looks almost perfect.

I don‘t understand who the victims are though. All of the citizens were already killed and replaced long ago, so, unless there are some out of town groups of people who were drawn here to Josephine County, then, there is no one left to do the attack on.

They are not going to attack their own families who visit for holidays, unless the German side, and the British sides are clashing. That, is a possibility.

The “All Fours Push Over Prank” is a basis for some of the attack.

Example: A small child wants to prank a bigger sibling, gets down on the floor behind that person, and either that person falls over backwards on their own tripping, or, is pushed, and falls over backwards while tripping over the small child who is on all fours on the ground, ready to prank.

The Salvation Army is at the Walmart. Dressed in official looking uniform, looks very “US navy Officers Uniform”. They have their bucket, bell, some signs, a friendly and hearty “Hellooo! and Merry Christmas!” as you enter and exit the Walmart.

The whole fucking world is on lock down, Corona Virus everywhere. We are told that so many people around the world are dropping dead that no one is allowed to go anywhere, do anything, can’t go to work unless your job is listed as one that is absolutely necessary.... but these assholes can come and do their British Charade while dressed in US navy Chinese Knock-Off Officer Uniforms.

It’s a Pirate Tug Boat.

They Tug at your heart strings because all you can think about is Ebenezer Scrooge and how Tiny Tim was treated on a MOVIE!

I am certain that there are some crutches nearby the front of the Walmart somewhere, if not crutches, then some other thing that looks like crutches is nearby, and is in the backs of trucks in the parking, planted for your Tiny Tim thoughts at the Walmart Christmas Adventure.

It was “Nightmare Before Elm Street” at the Walmart today.

The Elmer’s Restaurant across the street, desolate, no body there, only two cars in the parking, one was a SUV says “ELMERS” in big graphics on the side. The other car was a Red SUV. “Blood Sports” at the Walmart, noted at the Elmer’s, which is about like a fancy Denny’s.

The “All Fours Push Over” was advertised as it is every year out front of the Walmart with some signage. The sign is a big green board that was put there by Salvation Army at the front entrance, it is partially blocking the store entrance, and that fact is part of the message. There is a yellow box that is about the size of a three year old child on their hands and knees, it’s just a box, is yellow, is supporting that other green sign... push the green sign a little, and it falls over the yellow box. It’s “Green Jello terror cell, the SDA Salvation Army Chapter, at the Walmart. They also will incorporate that the fall that happens will lead to at least one lawsuit at the Walmart, for the “Insult to Injury” part of the terror. The local court gets involved, a SDA SAG Lawyer is involved. someone falls, and sues, Walmart settles out of court, some money changes hands, and if there were witnesses to any of the terrorism murders that will be going on, those reports will be discounted by the local authorities as just someone who must have seen that person who sued the Walmart when they fell down that day.

“Yes, someone was injured at the Walmart, I think Walmart chose to settle though, you have to check with the courts about that, but, there were no murders, Jesus Christ no... Heavens no, nothing like that happened, just a slip and fall is all that happened, that must be what that person saw.” Says the local Josephine County Sheriff when the federal officers come looking around.

Other than Salvation Army Bell Ring at the Front:

I forgot to bring my normal things that I bring to the store. I have been bringing my own reusable bags to the store since the government mandate that says we can‘t use single use plastic. I forgot those today. So, a lot of people were looking at my shopping cart saying all kinds of things about bags,... all kinds of bags and things to say about them to other people on secret communications as they pass by me in the store.

By the way, that thing with the single use bags law, happened here around last October of 2019, was a “Heads up, we are about to begin the COVID Phase” terror comm. The Single Use Plastic Law is no longer a thing, there are bags everywhere again, same as before that mandate.

I was going to purchase a camera today. So, I looked at the six different ones that are available at the Walmart display. Gone are the days of dozens of camera choices, there are only about six different ones in a small glass case that you can look at, through the glass, can‘t touch those, no way. There is a Canon Sterling Model. Small, 720 mpxl, 2.7 inch display, 8x zoom, heavy duty aluminum construction, has no WIFI inside, is good, looks like it could be used for taking some pictures, $129... I want one. Ok.. I go get the friendly Canadian terror Walmart Electronics Sales Associate for that.

“Help me please to get a camera from the display?”

“Yes, I can help with that”

We go there, he opens the pad lock on the very small 36″ x 24“ size cabinet that contains all of the cameras available at the Walmart, there are about maybe two dozen boxed cameras in there, and one of the boxes is empty for each of the ones in the display, so, there are very few cameras in there, at two weeks before Christmas time, and the size of that storage for them is tooooo smaaalll .... something is not right, Tiny Tim.

“Darn, I’m sorry, we don‘t have that Canon Sterling model you were looking at, but there is one of these other ones, that blue one, is also a Canon model... do you want to have a look at that one?” Says Canadian Walmart terror representative.

“no” I said.

“That one has Blue-tooth built in, I don’t want the Blue-tooth in the camera” I said some more.

I thanked him and left, remembering the exact same thing happened about this time last year. You can only get the Blue-Toothe model camera, so that they can spy on you. That is what Blue-Toothe is for, it’s always on. even when it says it’s turned off.

In case there is someone doing the math, it goes like this:

The one you want has 2.7″ inch screen, the one with the Blue-Toothe, has 3″ screen, comes with Blue-Toothe. So, 2.7 + 0.3 = 3 inches, so, that one is the Trinity one. Has 10x zoom, 1080 mpxl resolution. The associate knows what to do by the way the product is made with featured screen size, for SAG rules. He is going to point all of the victims to the Blue-Toothe camera, and say the other one is not available, there is no way to know when it will be available, and the display model is not for sale.

Maybe I’ll say some more later, I also went to AM/PM, so, there is a little to say about that.

5:48 pm (the bastards are still turning off my number pad on my keyboard every five minutes, I have to switch the num-lock button every time I want to type a numeral.)

==

6:25:

More to add is that yesterday and today there are a lot of people wearing the n-95 style hospital masks. Those will get you killed. Unless the terror soldiers are specifically instructed to use those, they are used to mark victims. You need cloth, home made masks. Also, the n-95 model has micron-filter that allows more nitrous molecule, and less fresh air to breathe, it’s double whammy killing COVID mask that way.

I am seeing some people wear these useless clear plastic mouth guard looking thing too. I have no idea how that is supposed to help for COVID protection.

Yesterday at the Walgreen’s, a young man was at the pharmacy boat dock, dropped his prescription paper for philling, the representatives were talking very loud:

“Have you filled here before?” they asked the young man.

“no, I haven’t” he said.

“What kind of insurance do you have?” the boat dock said.

“I don‘t have any..... it’s out of pocket” he replied.

He turns around to walk away after explaining that he is going to wait rather than come back later to pick up his prescription.

“Wow... everyone is wearing masks” he said to someone on a secret communication device.

I was thinking maybe this young man had come from some wonderful faraway place where there is no such thing as Twitter, a place without masks.

========

Other stuff at Walmart today is that the parking was danger city. The place is jam packed, terror soldiers are going out of their way to make you crash in there. They see you are pulling in, or out of a parking space, and them they go right behind your car, and stop there. It was rainy and foggy today too, perfect for low visibility terror at the Walmart. Big giant size four wheel drive truck has to come park right next to me just as I put the car in reverse, now I can only see in one direction, the way the Big Invisible Fog Horn in the Sky wants me to go, towards more dangerous conditions at the Walmart parking. They have it arranged that the parking is all full, but there are a few select parking spaces open, where the conditions surrounding those are highly controlled with other terror vehicles that are all prepared to interfere with someone who chooses to park in the available parking spaces. All of them are rigged, all of them are manned with crews of people who orchestrate conditions that favor the terror army, and are in conflict with safety of those who park there. no matter what happens, they have it rigged so it’s your fault if a collision happens, and there is no shortage of very distractible things that you have to see, pedestrians. dogs. bicycles, rogue runnaway shopping carts...it’s all there while others are targeting you. They put those there to make you crash.

At the AM/PM, same parking hazards are there as are at Walmart. There is a portable carnival food trailer there, at the AM/PM parking lot serving food. The AM/PM serves the same food inside the store as the circus trailer in the parking. So, why does AM/PM allow a competition to be parked there selling food in the parking lot? Because that place inside the trailer has a good viewing angle of the whole AM/PM gas station, and can see both entrances from there and all of the gas pumps, can shoot from there if necessary, a cross-bow, or a gun. Can direct traffic to come and go, to block someone, cause Cluster-Fuck if they need that, and can see all the way down Grants Pass Pkwy in both directions, the Carl’s Jr, Taco Bell, some of Winco Foods parking, and down Terry Lane from that circus food trailer. The thing is a green trailer about 16 feet, says “Mediterranean Food” on it, has a COVID Testing Easy-Up Canopy attached to the side.

Inside the store, I suppose the strangest thing, and something I don’t recall having seen before, was there was a man standing by the ATM in there, he had a small portable wireless receipt printer, and was printing receipts there near the ATM inside the store, as the big giant size man behind the counter was talking with him. It looked a bit less than legit to me, knowing about that all of the banks are hijacked, and purchases and inventory records are all faked in Oregon.

7:12 pm.

====

8:23 pm:

Other thing at Walmart today was Fake Security Officer w/Two Concerned Citizens doing what they call “The Unclean“ activity.

“Unclean“ is when three people, very clean-cut, proper, upstanding looking people are walking around and through someplace, they are all looking around, each one is looking a different way, when one of them turns to look a different way, so do the other two, so that all three, are always looking around in three different directions, constantly moving, turning, looking for something while also being super innocent and “holier than thou” sort of vibe going on. That happened as I entered the Walmart, one of them was “Security” with full vest, black official looking uniform, stuff clipped onto his belt. I don‘t recall a gun, or absence of one.

The thing about the Fake Security, is that he was the ‘Fake, fake security”, so, there is the usual fake security that drives around in the parking w/flashing yellow lights, but that guy was not there, his usual fake security car was there, but this other unusual fake security was there instead of regular fake security.

I don’t have other information about that. It’s fake, everything is fake, and when the fakeness is found out, they bring other, new, different fake falseness, to put in place of the usual fakery that was found. The real fake usual security was probably across the street at the Starbucks having some coffee & donuts while the temporary extra special fake terror actor from SAG fooled other federal investigative people on patrol.

There may have been the guillotine there today, at the front door. All of the usual guillotine sort of distractions were in place near the front of the Walmart.

================

10:14 pm:

Lately, the overwhelming notion that the terror army are pirates, has enlightened me in ways that I find helpful, and I want to help others see the things I am seeing if those things become present, so, “Pirates”, Boats, Barges, Dingy’s, Sloopes, Slips, Catamaran, Sails, Wind, Piers, Ports, Docks, Beaches, Palm Trees, Treasure and Maps to find it, is something that really can be seen if the terror army is around in your town.

All things shipping, complete with oil tankers, can be seen, in order to see the terror army as they are communicating with Pirate Themes in LARGE WAYS. When you are out and about, see if you can find a boats, it could be truck, but when you look at it with a Cracker Jack Secret Decoder Ring attitude, it’s a boat, has a yard arm, has some Trump Supporter Flags for Sails, has some special bumpers so it can get close to the dock, could be some stickers, artwork, printed words that make it more shiplike in some way.

If you don‘t see what I am saying here, that’s good news. Just make sure you have an eye from the crows nest from time to time, just in case the Pirate Circus comes to your town.

The most important part is that there is a strange presence of a Fog Horn like quality to the atmosphere in the town, it’s not a sound that you can hear, it’s more like a lot of people who make conditions which force you to go on your way in the direction that they want you to go, like a fog horn does to keep the captains from crashing onto the rocks, except these people use a reverse fog horn that guides the people into danger.

Traffic conditions, with people who pull out in front of you at the store parking aisles, makes you choose a different aisle, then they guide you with shopping carts and pedestrians, other drivers jockeying around in the way, is like the Fog Horn that guides you, into the specific parking place where they want you to be, for easy victim placement. There are some empty places to park, but you would have to get out to move those shopping carts that they put in them if you want to park there, and, that also is bait, they are waiting for victims to get out to move the shopping carts that block you from parking there.

This is too difficult to be specific. You just have to be willing to see it on your own, conditions can change, the Pirates adapt, they are lead by Screen Actor Guild, and those guys wrote the Movie Screenplay already, for all of the Pirate movies, so, they just switch from Master & Commander, to Hunt For Red October, on the fly.

All of that can then change to Airplane, to make you feel foolish while looking for Pirates at the Airport. Right now it’s all about Pirates where I live, they are easier to spot than when the Jurassic Park themes are in play.

Jumangi terror. Gumby terror, he can walk into any book with his pony pal Poky.

10:46 pm.

==

10:51 pm:

There some themes that don’t ever change. There is always a “Save the Princess” sort of idea that is a basis to support terrorism murders on. Maybe is one person princess, maybe is Grenfeild Tower where the whole building full of people is the princess.

There is always a treasure, some money, some riches as bait. The terror is not really interested too much in stealing money, they have that already, but those ideas about money and riches, treasure, other wealth, is used as bait. A purse on the front seat of an unlocked car, or a lot of gold jewelry on a pretty woman, all is bait. A Harley Davidson with keys dangling is a favorite around here, is bait.

You don‘t have to want to steal that stuff, all you have to do is be near it. The terror army does the rest, they have fake police for that, to make fake police report at the real police station about why someone was killed as they tried to steal that motorcycle, rob that jewelry from that woman, or take that purse from the unlocked car at the Walmart parking. All you wanted is some milk and some eggs for breakfast tomorrow.

They use themes though, good cop/bad cop is always there same as the princess and the lure of riches and easy money. There are many themes, there is always a hot chick, a stud, a dog & pony in some way, and there is always someone to feel sorry for while they are scouting you with the “I need some gas & food money” sign w/baby and wheelchair nearby.

It all repeats over and over again, large size princess is a whole busload of people is the bait and need help, small size of the same bait is a child who is being told they can’t have what they want, parent yells at the child. Both are Save the Princess, designed to make you react in some way, a way they already practiced for to mark you.

===

11:30 pm:

For instance, a set-up that is standard procedure at the AM/PM today, happens about half the time I go in there:

It’s simple, as I am there, the only US Citizen anywhere around for 500 miles or more in all directions, everyone else is a Canadian terror soldier, or, a SAG actor from Hollywood, as a leader for the Canadians.

I am in line, want to get some things at the front counter, a girl comes in the store doing the Pee-pee dance, says: “I need the key for the rest room” while interrupting the transaction I am having with the store clerk, who tells her: “There is no key, it’s open if no one is in there”

now, if I go anywhere near where those restrooms are at, inside the store, near the access door to the refrigerated beverages cooler, that is where the victims get dragged into the refrigerated area. If no one sees that someone was hit and taken back there, then the girl in the rest room is not needed for the terror to continue, but if someone does witness the activity of someone being hit and taken into the cooler, then that girl in the restroom is super handy as a princess who was saved, and that is what is said to have been witnessed. The terror soldier murderers, are transformed into heroes that way. So, if I go over there because I was reminded that I want to get something from that area, then they hit me, drag me into the cooler. If someone sees, the girl in the rest room is told to start screaming, looks like I went in there to rape or rob her, but was thwarted by the AM/PM other customer, or staff near the cooler.

Variation of the same thing is a small child is taken into the rest room by the father or mother, it’s the same thing, with slightly different twist so they have some variation, not always exactly the same scenario, the child is in the rest room, either with or without the parent... whatever suits the ongoing theme so that other terror soldiers in the store who know the theme of the day, will know what is going on, and know their spoken lines they need to say.

If you drive a raised truck that can be crawled under, they will do that at the AM/PM, with a screw driver, to crank your starter over too many times, drain your battery as you are distracted with a long line in the store. You come out, truck won‘t start, dead battery. That is when the Mobile Auto Repair just happens to pull in and park next to you, as if you called it in ahead of time. It says right on the mobile repair van that they do jump start service. It gets worse from there. That has happened to me three times there so far, to the extent that I needed a tow truck because the event was primed for at my home with sabotage to the starter motor. Three starters in a short time, because Chartrand comes and uses the screwdriver short circuit method to spin the starter around while I am in the shower. Burns the starters up. Get to AM/PM, and one more short does the trick, need to get a new starter, and Chartrand has the Stingray surveillance unit, so, he knows where I called to get a new starter, after the tow-truck assassin fails, and he is there waiting for me at the auto parts store, three times so far, same thing, dead battery at the AM/PM, Mobile repair is there, just happens to park there, the starter is toast, need a tow truck, then need a starter at the O’Reilly’s Auto parts, where Chartrand is working behind the service counter when I arrive to get a new starter that he ruined for me.

That is how the AM/PM Luke’s Arco does what they do, and lots more.

Richard Chartrand is the terror neighbor I explain about often, he has lived two doors to the north at 376 Jackpine for about 6 or seven years, is one of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who is also a Oregon State Police Officer in disguise. He uses a real Oregon State Police Dodge Charger, a grey one. So, I call for help to stop terrorism, and/or make reports here, or at Twitter to get some national security help, and they send the Canadian terror Oregon State Police to kill me instead of coming to see what the problems are themselves. That happened so many times, that Richard Chartrand was sent to come live on the road as my neighbor, so that he could be like Johnny on the Spot when someone reads what I write here and calls the police or FBI to send some help. Chartrand, of Oregon State Police, is right there, two doors away, always is on call, ready to respond to reports of terrorism I make. He is not going to help, instead he has a lot of terror soldier thugs like Burton Mitchel Dietrick who also lives on Jackpine, Stevie Bell who uses the Chartrand approved terror story that Stevie is my Son and we don‘t get along, but he lives across the street to care for me anyway because I am a disabled man with spinal cord post surgical conditions that, they say, needs a caregiver all of the time. Meanwhile, the sheriff gave them the keys to my house because they arrested me on June 15 and got my keys that way when I went to jail for something that never happened, was just for getting the keys, and to take a few whacks at a disabled spinal cord patient while at the jail. After that, Chartrand had some fresh keys for the lock that I already changed because Fran Taylor was making keys that fit my front door somehow, I don‘t know how, she has key making machine, that’s what I know about that, So, everyone has keys to my front door, the national security people are told that I need special care all of the time, and that is why the Caregivers are coming over here everyday to beat me up with a baseball bat or try to poke me with euthanasia drug for the big sleep. Happens almost everyday, national security won’t send help to a disabled man, they are ok with the current caregiver situation with baseball bat therapy, and the terror doctor who only does phone or video appointments who tells me that I have arthritis, and that is why I hurt so bad, so, he gives enough treatment for someone who has arthritis, is not interested in treating the post surgical spinal cord injury, one that always hurts even without the caregiver and baseball bat beating daily evening therapy that I get regularly, for many years. Then, to add insult to injury, they killed my daughter, but she calls sometimes to tell me that she graduated from medical school, is a doctor now, works at the ER and Intensive care unit as a resident physician at the hospital somewhere.

no one will send help.

I am pretty sure all of the Chartrand’s are dead now, they attacked me too many times. There were five of them to start with:

Richard Chartrand (Rich)

Jennifer Chartrand (Jennifluffer)

Sterling Chartrand (Stir)

Elizabeth Chartrand (Lizzy)

and Richard’s sister, Jay Chartrand (”Watch Dog” he called her)

All are dead, or, too injured and cut to pieces to hurt me anymore. Others are there at 376 Jackpine, so, the terror from there continues with other Royal Canadian Mounted Police who are disguised as Oregon State Police, and are stationed two doors away for ease of access with daily baseball bat therapy.

Part of the problem with the national security is that the insist on always being fooled by the local authorities, who are not real authorities, are terror army soldiers and special operatives who are trained and assigned especially for fooling national security, So, the other problem is that the terror army is so enormous, that if a few nsa officers come to Oregon, they will be killed, and a takeover team sent to the nsa HQ, to take that, and kill & replace all of their family and friends. The nsa needs to bring US Military, but the White House is hijacked by SAG terror leadership, is not going to send US Military to Oregon, Trump is only going to send them to Afghanistan to protect the terror heroin poppy fields there, and, those guys that are sent to Afghanistan are ambushed when the get there by the British “Friendly’s”, are killed, and now they are all replaced with Canadians who are protecting the terror heroin poppy’s in Afghanistan while pretending to be US Military under direction from the White House.

But hey, there is still football to watch on TV on Monday nights, in the rainy season, so, all is ok I suppose, eh?

=======

12-12-2020: 2:21 am:

For anyone who may possibly be watching this account, be advised that today I don‘t think I made any comments at the suspended Twitter account, this past week, I have made only few short, not so lengthy use of the text box there. I try anything to get help, typing in any text box I can find is something I have done to try to get help, so, see if you notice any difference when I refrain from using Google products to type in a text box, starting today... last night 12-11-2020.

I will try to refrain tomorrow, to see if there is some difference by not using the Twitter text suspended account box.

Twitter needs to be taken offline globally, pronto, fast, any and every way possible.... immediately.

2:29 am.

========================================

12-12-2020: 7:32 pm:

Addition lies that are told to other, far away people, nsa, or other Global Security personnel about me, and the circumstances that are lied about the existence of the information presented here on this Tumblr account, and other places online:

The same way that Stephen (Stevie) Bell at 445 Jackpine is said to be my estranged Son, so is Deb Monroe at 434 Jackpine said to be my estranged Daughter, who lives next door in that Offensive Monroe Surveillance Travel Trailer. The same, or similar conditions as with the story that is told about Stevie Bell, are repeated with stories about Deb Monroe, that she is available at that trailer for Caregiver of her Dad, who is said to be the author of this account, a disabled man who needs assistance to dress, cook, shop for food, go to doctor appointments, use a restroom, shower or bathe, and help to feed the cats.

Although I am a disabled man, I don’t need any of that kind of help. I need national security and global world wide security to read this account. I need those people to stop being fooled by the local authorities who are the ones who have crafted up so many lies, including the ones that include Deb Monroe, and Stephen Bell. Those national security people need to stop all contact with the local authorities and do their own research to find the truth.

That is where and when the information here can be helpful. It could be used to stop about 90% of the terrorism on Earth.

That is a lot of terror that would end. Immagine a time when there would be no more Schul Schute’s. That is only the beginning of what could be achieved if nsa would only just do their job, stop relying on others, and stop being fooled.

There is other lies that include Sandy Monroe, I don’t know the extent of those. I suspect that sometimes Sandy Monroe is said to be me, the author of this page, and the person that Deb Monroe is caregiver for, as I am kept captive in my home, out of view from potentially helpful people who are too far away to see what is really happening around here.

Personally, I feel that Deb Monroe is really the daughter of Scott and Karen Liter of 329 Jackpine, and they may have taken over at 325 Jackpine, to pretend to be Dewey and Roberta Gasper, who are terror pirates, and are dead.

Lies. Stephen Bell; Deb Monroe, Sandy Monroe... none of them are caregivers.

I don’t have or use or want any caregivers.

That is Sandy Monroe attacking at the laundry room door earlier this year, about February. There are three other people at least also outside, as Sandy was pounding on my door, that door, and the front door, for about two hours that night, she demanded I let her in, said that this is her house, insisted that she lived here. There was a dead body in my woods covered with a sleeping bag, and I think the four people thought I had taken a photo of the dead body, so, this fucking scary shit happened.

There is more to this, It’s all been said before, so, do your own research, I just want to make sure that everyone who needs to know can see that Sandy Monroe is featured there in those photos above.

7:56 pm.

=========

8:21 pm:

You could be looking at those photos and saying: “But that is not the Sandy Monroe that we have detailed in our portfolio profile information, something is wrong, someone is not telling the truth and we could possibly be being fooled here with this person claiming that the photo shows Sandy Monroe”.

That would be a good start to moving closer to the truth.

What you should know:

That is only “The Current Sandy Monroe, and that particular Sandy Monroe is the one that is occupying the front residence at 434 Jackpine Drive. That one is not the first one, as there have been at least three Sandy Monroe’s over a course of about four or five years since the time they moved in there next door.

There have been at least two Jeff Monroe’s there also, neither one of the Jeff Monroe’s have been seen for a few month’s, and the latest Jeff Monroe was there for most of the time... about three and a half years. The original Jeff Monroe had tattoos, big ones, on his shoulder blades, the newer one is much thinner, uses a hoodie to conceal his face, does not take his shirt off, so, tattoos are not visible if present.

There is currently a Jeff Monroe deficit, as there does not seem to be anyone portraying the Jeff Monroe role at the Monroe terror cell next door.

That current Sandy Monroe has dental conditions that mimic the post gunshot dental conditions I suffer from. Very similar teeth arrangement to my own.

8:37 pm.

=========

8:57 pm:

For clarity sake, I think it’s wise to say one more time that the person in those photos is not the author of this account information here, maybe some other account of information but not this one here at StoneMan Warrior on Tumblr.

Also is wise to remind more time that phone lines are all like spaghetti, the ones that are buried in the ground that compose the Centurylink network. All of the phone lines were intentionally put onto the wrong terminals in all of the service boxes that serve the area, maybe the whole state of Oregon, I think the spaghetti phone line method of fooling the nsa has worked pretty good so far, about twenty years or so, and they use the local Josephine County spaghetti phone lines as a model for all of the phone lines of all of the world by now. They just send a van to the main access box, says something American HVAC and Vacuum on it, and those guys switch the wiring around inside the main access terminals in the neighborhood, and then they also switch the wires on the small, individual service access boxes that are out front of all of the houses. But that is only the cover part, only on the surface where it’s easy to see that it’s spaghetti phones, so, they also use the old school PBX switchboards to make super customized terror phone call experience for nsa to get lost and be fooled with. But that is only the old school part, so, they also use the new fangled digital equipment too, helps to play the Pope’s mystery card, so the VOIP systems can change the phone call from land line to digital computer line to then goes to cell-phone tower to make confusion Vatican mystery hokus pokus in places where only should be land line to easily listen to for national security, makes it easy to switch the Pope signal back to land line with use of the PBX again for that. Just need a house with two phone lines incoming and your good to go for Stingray Hijack from hell that way.

It’s not as confusing as it could be though.

They call the PBX “Medusa”. They named it. They get those from the Sheriff Auction. The terror scouts go find them, then, it goes in the auction, listed in the Grants Pass Daily Courier as a item available for biding on. I don‘t know why they do that, put it in the paper, except that when that happens, it makes it easier to capture the nsa when they come around asking questions, and is handy when the Sheriff is in charge with the auction for that. It becomes a place to put a trap real quick before the new “Medusa’s” are put into service. They “Christen“ all of the equipment and weapons like that, before it goes into service.

Spaghetti phone is why nsa might think Sandy Monroe is author of this information.

(also, the complicated part of the spaghetti phones, is, that I am supposed to have two addresses worth of telephone lines. They stole one address worth, and hooked that one up in the spaghetti, Stingray, VOIP, Medusa, Cell Phone/Land line Pope system of modern communication technology they use around here. I am sure there is some Blue-Toothe way to make it more challenging for nsa, but I don‘t know about that, I hate Blue-tooth. So you have to watch out for addresses where there are supposed to be extra phone lines, or, for addresses that were made special to have a lot of phone line. It’s like money, they just scrape a little off the top, in the paperwork. With the phones, just some airplane Vodka applied to the service box at the neighbors house terminal does the trick, POG is bonus. You need one of those special 9/16 box end wrenches (just show your SAG card to the people at Acme Tool & Die, they pass those out when one is requested to those with dues paid in full, card in good standing).

I use tape. That way, you can know if the seal was broken.

=================

This is still on the 12-12-2020 additional information:

Different, unrelated to the above:

10:10 pm:

Very few people understand the nuances surrounding a disability. There are some things about disability that have their own set of terror jargon when commanded with terror orders from White House, Congress, State Governors... etc. The Pointy Hat Clubs have language based on this “secret” knowledge about disability:

In USA, we have Social Security Disability Insurance. We go to work, we pay out of the paycheck a deduction for an insurance premium.

not many people understand that it’s an insurance premium. It’s useful for when you get hurt, can’t work anymore, are broken.

Same idea with Unemployment Insurance, you pay a premium for insurance ahead of time. If everything goes good, you never need to file a claim with the insurance company.

There is other kind of insurance, the employers pay for insurance that protects the employer, and also protects the employees from all kinds of things that can happen. I forget what that insurance is called, but that insurance is the reason sometimes that a person is considered as a disabled person, sort of, in USA. There are certainly medical and health reasons a person is considered as a disabled person, and, when filing a federal disability claim against that insurance that you pay for with your paycheck, the SSDI deduction, there is a ton of doctors, tests, scans, interviews, exorcises, waiting periods, more tests, more doctors, more scans, lots and lots of paperwork, and some spies that come to watch everything you do. It takes about two years minimum to go through all of the tests, scans, doctors, ... repeat, then again, only to be denied, because those are the rules, you have to be denied at least one time. So, those who really are suffering from some serious problems are the ones who have no other choices. They just keep jumping through the hoops as the new hoops are presented for jumping through. Everyone else, gets real hungry, and tired, and they go back to work.

So, the secret communication used by Government terror leaders to say commands about disabled people, as targets, or, to say commands to the terror soldiers who already killed and replaced disabled people, is hidden inside of talk about insurance. 

When congress, or Trump talks about “Pre-Existing Health Conditions” for insurance related subject matter, they are saying some kind of specifics about disabled people, elderly people, maybe small children who are not old enough to go into the work force yet are also pre-existing conditional people.

The reason is that the disabled person may have some conditions, lets say heart condition, where they look OK, can walk the same as everyone, but have some heart condition, maybe had a heart attack already, so, the reason they are not employable is that the insurance company is not going to cover a person who could have a heart attack at the jobsite when the medical record already shows a history of heart-attack, or other circulatory problems.

Right there, is the reason why that person is “Disabled”. Can walk, can even run (but is risky), no walking aid is required, no wheel chair, but could drop dead from heart problem while changing light bulbs on the company Christmas display in the store window, cause a short circuit, makes a fire, someone has to come to drag the person from the burning front store Christmas lights, then that person is electrocuted, the place is on the fifteenth floor of the building, there is no number 13 on the Ottis elevator,and they left it out of the stairwells too because Christians are superstitious, could be a disability I think, mental psychotic ailment, so the fire crew is lost while trying to save the heart-attack light-bulb replacement person, and some of them are hurt, suffer smoke inhalation, could die, and the equipment is ruined too. All of that, and the conditions of fire damage and injury at the employers have not even been considered yet.

That is why the insurance company is not going to insure disabled people who have ailments, or multiple ailments that are listed at the Social Security Administration. Those that are awarded a disability status, and those people who have listed impairments or multiple impairments, that when stacked up together are deemed that which the insurance company won‘t cover, are said to be “Disabled People” and can sign up for a special parking card for convenience at the store parking if they want to, you know, those blue ones with the wheel chair on them, goes on the rear view mirror.

Insurance. The employer is mandated to have it. The Insurance company works close with medical doctors, the doctors go to school for a long, long, long, long, long time, and they also are at the Social Security Administration, where the disabled people, all of them, are denied at least one time, because those are the secret rules. That, and the employers insurance is also the secret rules. Somewhere in all of that are smart people who figured out a way to make a balance between medical records, tests, interviews, with analytic studies, health science, and that people who are fake, will give up, and go back to work. Also, that period of time where you are denied, is often enough time to heal. So, those who do not heal, and have listed impairments, don’t have to change out the company Christmas light bulb display, however, those people, if they can walk, will always suffer greatly, forever, from abuse from the Christian Church, who feels that if you can walk, that is the disability test, no doctors, insurance, social science, medical science, or knowledge of any kind is necessary for becoming a church member. They let anyone in their club.

One thing is for sure about disabled people, that is that the actual health conditions they suffer from are not likely to improve, are likely to become worse over time, and, those conditions will always be obvious with future testing, but mostly, in the medical environment that once existed, is gone now, but the one that is supposed to still be working, where the disabled people enter into with regular checkups, and treatment plans, will always maintain an ongoing record of progress as the person ages. Sometimes medical treatments and advances in technology and medical science can provide remedy to disabled people status, but not often. Even so, the disabled person, once out of the work force for fifteen years, is considered as permanently disabled forever for having become “institutionalized” and that the consensus is that the person, and the social work environment changes so dramatically over that amount of time, that fifteen years out of the work force is considered to be the disabling factor. So, again, smart people figured out a way to make it easier for disabled people to survive in harsh environments where the Church applies so much pressure for so long that the disabled persons, after fifteen years of experience with being a disabled person, can simply tell the invasive church people...

...to “go fuck off somewhere else, this is not my first rodeo, you superstitious offensive terrorist fruitcake”.

Watch for terror comm featuring “Pre-Existing Conditions” to find disability specific terror instructions from government officials.