#itwcsmcroon

[oftimeslostlongago]

If there was one thing he hated, it was magic. He honestly thought when he died that would be it, no more bullshit with magic and curses. Except now he seemed to be in modern day London. Maybe some trick his father had played, but what was the point in any of it if he couldn't get back to Storybrooke? His family was there, his son was there. Emma was... standing right there? "Emma?" was this real... or did it mean something had happened to her?

@itwcsmcroon for Emma

[hopeshattered]

closed starter for @itwcsmcroon​ ( rose ! )

     jack wasn’t even sure what the purpose of a valentine’s day gala was, but his roommate convinced him to attend by promising him that he wouldn’t have to actually take part in the romantic part of it. he wasn’t interested in a relationship ; he only cared about finding HER, making sure she was alive, that she hadn’t succumbed to what he had. he entered buckingham palace with a YELLOW band on his wrist, eyes widening instantaneously in amazement at his surroundings. he never imagined he’d step foot inside of the queen’s palace, but then again, he never thought he’d somehow come back from the dead, either. everything and everybody surrounding him was so glamorous that he was left feeling entirely out of place. he was just a broke boy from wisconsin, so what the hell was he doing in a palace ? jack became a little more disoriented the further he walked in, though he offered polite smiles to anybody he made eye contact with. “ excuse me, “ he mumbled as he stepped past a small crowd of people, but as he turned his head to look behind as he passed them, he realized who he’d just wandered past. “ ROSE ? “ he called out, freezing in place as everybody but her seemed to fade into the background. if it wasn’t her, then whatever gods were out there were pulling an incredibly cruel prank on him.

[springbandit]

“What could be worse than hummus?” (Janis & Tim)

"Guacamole hummus." he answered, without even having to give it much thought. "All the disappointment of hummus, with the dirt flavours of guacamole. But, without any of the freshness of pure guacamole." he shook his head. Never again. "The only good part about it? The words. Guacamole especially. What a good word." He looked over at the other and smiled gently. "You really hate it that much? What about asparagus? I think it's worse. Or, beetroot, pretty nasty."

@itwcsmcroon

[ohbambix]

❝ 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕧𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕤 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕞 𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕤𝕝𝕦𝕘 ❞ | @itwcsmcroon

Insults weren't usually something to stick a landing. Maybe it was because life on the Isle permanently would thicken a villain's skin as insults were fed to them like mothers milk. Or maybe it was the fact that he grew up with two sisters, who enjoyed having insult contests over the dinner table and it always felt like a piece of home.

"The thing about slugs, duckling," he purrs, leaning against the nearest solid surface, "is they always leave a noticeable trail behind. Whether it's out of making a positive impression or not, one only has to put the salt away to find out." Somewhere, Gil is proud. "So is that a no to sharing hot cocoa?"

[hhalfdoomed]

closed for kate bishop // @itwcsmcroon​ !

despite already having had some experience with it, wednesday couldn’t tell she explicitly enjoyed having a roommate. it was a logical option, of course, because now, no longer living at home, she needed to deal with things that other, normal people dealt with. such as money, and paying rent, and as it turned out, that bit was easier when you were sharing it with someone. she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about who she would end up sharing an apartment with. thankfully, there was no need to pack her things and walk away aftert the first night due to having to deal with someone unbearable. no, kate bishop turned out to actually be an okay roommate, not too snoopy and not too eager to strike up conversations. still a little too cheery at certain times but that was something wednesday could deal with. in fact, it wasn’t bad at all, so far. it was already dark out by the time she got back into the apartment, keys jingling in the silent hallway as wednesday made her way inside. “ hello, kate, ” she called after taking off her coat, heading towards the kitchen where the lights were on.

[hcpefuldreams]

closed starter for @itwcsmcroon​ // open to anyone

wade looked up from his comic book and raised his brow. he pressed his lips together as he heard someone talking. he sighed softly, setting the thing down, “did you know there’s a whole bunch of comics that are just about me ? i sure as hell didn’t but it’s pretty fuckin cool!” he asked, once again breaking that forth wall. he loved to do that. it was his favorite thing to do.

[timefound]

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 time bucky swore that he was born at the wrong generation, because witnessing a few things here in london has left him... bewildered. in this case, it was the wax figures at the museum. there was something about the accuracy of these figures that was unsettling. he's staring at one for what felt like ten minutes straight, all while noticing another presence by him. " you think these guys come to life at night or something? " he asks aloud, head tilted in curiosity. there were other thoughts that continued to fill his head, but he wanted to keep it to himself. " i could've sworn i saw this one blink a second ago. " (@itwcsmcroon)

[m-mckinnon]

She liked seeing dad so involved with their daughters that when she saw the pair walked in, Jane had to smile a the little girl. She watched the large man ordered for him and his daughter and was surprised when the girl pointed to her. With a smile still on her face, Jane was ready to greet the dad from the distance but soon they were striding towards her and she will be lying if she say that it didn't make her feel a little weird. But soon the duo was in front of her, the tall blonde man looking at him as if he saw a ghost and soon she was hearing her name on the man's lips. "Uhm...yeah?" Jane said puzzled, totally unaware why this dad seem to know her. "I'm....Do I know you?" She asked still looking confused but didn't want to be rude. The doctor watched as the man took a seat and his daughter continued looking at her as well. Jane didn't know what to think, is this some kind of prank, will there be camera crew suddenly appearing out of nowhere and telling her this is all a big joke? Or was she the one not remembering that she actually know this burly man sitting across her.

m-mckinnon​:

OPEN STARTER

There’s something fascinating about people watching that calms her. Seeing all the buzz around her and wondering what all these people are actually thinking about. What makes them tick, what makes them happy, what makes them smile and laugh and cry. Jane was once again in that little corner of the cafe she usually goes to, just relaxing for the afternoon. She had gone and seen a few patients through out the day and thankfully, it’s her time now to just relax and sip some coffee she had deprived herself to have since this morning. Being a therapist can take some toll on some which is why she makes it a priority to always look after her needs as well after all of it. She glanced around once again until she saw a set of eyes trained towards her. Jane smiled at the person wondering if they had been looking at her directly or it was just one of those offbeat chance when two pair of eyes meet at the right time. But being the courteous kind of person, she acknowledged it.

when thor had woken up in this place, it hadn’t taken long for him to know exactly which part of midgard he’d found himself in. he remembered a brief time spent in the city called london, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. he disliked this place and wished to return home to new asgard, but… he’d not been in town for long before he realized just how lucky he actually was. he had his memories of home, he had his pub… and he had love, the child that he’d taken in who had quickly become like a daughter to him.

as they usually did, once the bus had dropped love off at the pub, the pair went down to one of the cafes down the street for thor to get himself a cup of coffee and love one of those boba teas she’d become so fond of lately. he was paying when he felt the girl tugging at his sleeve to get his attention, pointing to someone sitting in the corner and when thor looked where she was pointing, he swore his heart stopped for a moment. it couldn’t be. he remembered it like it was yesterday… dr. jane foster dying in his arms. he dropped the money onto the counter before making his way over to the other, shaking his head in disbelief. “jane? is… is it truly you?” he asked, taking the empty seat. “how? how are you here?”

[demongemz]

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” natasha and ada @itwcsmcroon

Ada sipped her drink for a moment giving way to the pumpkin spice latte phase if only to see what the hype was truly about. “Asking me what my favorite scary movie is huh? Have we really run out of topics at this point Natasha dear?” She teased her friend before thinking for a moment “I suppose I rather like Candyman, something about depicting a righteous killer is an interesting concept to me, What about yourself? I bet your go too will say a lot about you” she mused.

[starrcrxssed]

@itwcsmcroon (For Nat)

So the whispers were true. The rumor that Natasha was alive had reached her to the corner of the world where she had ben residing- but she hadn't believed it. How could such a thing be possible? Yelena had never believed in miracles. They certainly didn't happen to russian orphans who had only known control and violence since a very young age. But now, here she was, standing outside a ballet studio, staring through the window at the ghost of her sister. But it was no ghost, she was alive and breathing. With a deep breath, Yelena let herself into the building, not saying a word, just standing there. Taking in the sight, trying to reconcile her reality.

"Is it really you?" She was certain it was, but she needed to hear Natasha confirm it. She needed to make it real.

@itwcsmcroon

[oftimeslostlongago]

As much as he tried to adjust, all of it was a lot to take in. One thing he could do at least was meditate, keep his connection with the force. He knew he used it more than most, he needed to, especially in such a unknown place and without any of his family around. That was until he felt a presence nearby. For a moment he thought it was Ezra, he could feel the force in them, but it was wrong. Someone else then, that was odd. "Can I help you?" he asked, though he didn't open his eyes. Well there was no point really for him, but he had no desire to reveal his eyes just yet.

@itwcsmcroon for Rey

[falsifiedshallowed]

HE STILL wasn't used to it. This body, this state, which was saying something as it had been the very one he had been born in. Well, at least, it appeared to be. Nothing had changed too drastically other then the fact that, when he looked at his reflection in any passing window, puddle or reflective surface, the boy who stared back at him was made of hardened bone and warm flesh that could bleed (he had tested such a thing out himself the moment he came to the realisation that he was truly Fiyero once again, purposely cutting his fingertip on the edge of a newspaper to stare dumbfounded at the sight of the crimson that tapered the edges of the white corner before it it hit him that such an action had...hurt) as opposed to a bundle of straw, fabric and stiches that was unable to feel any pain inflicted upon him. It was all a very odd sensation, as though he couldn't fully register the level of change happening to him simply because it all happened so fast. He'd passed out during the beatings thrown upon him by the Gale Force when he had been held in their capture as, regardless of the fight he put up, the reminder that these men he had once called his co-workers had the upper-hand was an apparent one in these circumstances. When he'd awoken, he had certainly felt...different with this being an umbrella term for the many oddities that plagued him the second Fiyero's vision had unblurred. How was he not dead would have been the first question he would have asked if the first thing the prince had picked up on hadn't been how he couldn't exactly ask himself anything in the now silent realms of his own mind. His first 'thought' was how he couldn't find himself having any, as though his twisted longing for escape from his own unruly mind had come back to haunt him. What should have been freeing felt so mortifying yet his heart was still very much in tact both then and during whatever journey he and the likes of Dorothy from Kansas embarked on and it ached for one person and one alone - Elphaba. She had saved his life, this had to be her doing. Was she okay? Did she know he were alive? That was the very reason he had written her that damn note in the first place, to offer her hope and let any grief she may feel not be permanent whilst also planning some form of escape in the process. Sweet Lurline, where was she now? Was she back there in the outskirts of Oz with him here in this place? He needed to reach her...somehow. And as it felt as though he had just gotten used to his lack of weight in each step, it returned to him in a single, aggressive gust, with both circumstances resulting in Fiyero's body language being far more rigid and clumsy than the norm possessed by those around him.

It wasn't until Fiyero truly focused on the person beneath him that his face seemed to falter from its more smile-orientated exterior for a moment, studying each individual feature on the girl's face as if he were searching for a reason why she seemed so familiar. Perhaps it was the way her voice made his insides feel as though they were melting, turning into butter that began to seep into the face of a warm piece of toast. It was the only thing he had seen lately that allowed him to feel comfortable, as if talking to this stranger (she couldn't be a stranger, could she?) was something more than just embarrassed apologies and scurrying off without a word to follow in hopes they would never interact again. Fiyero...didn't want this lock of eye contact to end. He felt as if he was going through different shelves in his mind, unpacking it and throwing objects aside and opening boxes whilst in the midst of uncovering something greater and he seemed close to lifting the lid of just the right box however, that was put to a halt when the girl was up and on her feet yet even then, Fiyero's gaze didn't falter. His hand hung in the air for a moment more, as if it hadn't quite hit him yet that she had rejected the offer and it was once he noted that instead of being on the ground, this woman was at his level, the boy scurried across the pavement to grasp a few loose papers before the wind took them for their own and rushed back to stand before her, not speaking for a moment with his mouth open just slightly as though he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to - like he had just forgotten how to converse.

❛ F-fine, I'm fine, ❜ it took Fiyero a entire minute of standing motionless and silence before he spoke again, his voice sounding that little more wavered as his act of confidence slipped and his brown eyes averted to the paper once it clocked that he had been staring at this stranger for just a little too long now. He then used this as an excuse to introduce himself, letting his hand out forward once more with the accompanying items before stating that his name was Fiyero in a tone that seemed to reflect just how lost in his thoughts he truly was. At least that offered more confirmation that he wasn't hallucinating the absence of his scarecrow physique , ❛ Sorry, I just...this is going to sound very weird but..have we met before? ❜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

FIYERO wasn't one for deep contemplation. If anything, that was something which the male found himself purposely avoiding amongst most circumstances as, although he was one who seemingly prided himself on an existence of carelessness to the public eye, internally it were a game of 'tag' taking place in the forefront of his mind involving just about every emotion you could imagine - usually negative - chasing him around the labyrinth that was his own cluster of thoughts until it overwhelmed him enough to shut him down. He never told anyone of such, of course but on occasion even he could note that his thoughtless and outgoing nature was an evident façade. The key word here is 'note' as he knew better than anyone that acknowledgment meant facing the problem and he wasn't going to be one to do that anytime soon. Perhaps he could stick to just subconscious awareness. All he had to do was run fast enough, keep himself constantly moving and he would be the winner of this game. That was what he told himself anyway, he refused to accept that a single metaphorical twist of the ankle that could force him to slow down could change things forever. So, had anyone been planning to tell him that the twist of the ankle would have been a girl who he (well, not him, per say but an affiliate of him while he slept comfortably in the back of said carriage) nearly ran over with a Goddamn carriage? But that was a story for another day. And a long one, at that.

Regardless of such factors, it was getting increasingly more difficult to not let his thoughts get to him when he were wondering around a city that . . . definitely not home even though that term meant a million different things to him as of late but this sure as hell wasn't one of them. It resembled nothing of anything he knew and that alone put him in a state of utter unease regardless of how his feet kept moving him forward. In actuality, a lot wasn't making sense to him right now but I think in these circumstances, we gotta deal with everything one step at a time. This also meant that actually paying attention to those around him wasn't of the utmost priority to him so, when he turned the corner and was seconds away from nearly slamming into another body, Fiyero didn't react until it was clear that walking around them wasn't exactly an option as of right now and jerking himself to the side only meant that it was their shoulders that made contact as opposed to their faces prior to hitting the ground so, maybe that was an improvement? It was astonishing how someone could be so good yet awful on their feet at the same time.

" SORRY, sorry - Going to be honest, I did not see you coming," The boy began as a more light-hearted jab at an apology while he attempted to scramble back up to his feet (it worked after a few good effects) before reaching a hand out in the direction of the latest victim of his own absentmindedness, "I hope I didn't make you break a rib or anything like that." ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(@walstarterblog)

[hopeshattered]

closed starter for @itwcsmcroon​ ( rose ! )

     they’d already experienced one disaster together before, so what was another ? jack couldn’t fully remember what happened in the moment that separated them, but what he was certain of was his dedication to finding her again. knowing that she was here, in london, much less alive, was a miracle in of itself. to say it was difficult to navigate a new century on his own was an understatement, but knowing that rose was not far from him, experiencing the exact same thing ? something inside of him felt revitalized. as soon as things seemed to settle enough, jack set out on finding the woman that kept slipping through his fingers. it didn’t take long to figure out she was starring in a west end show, so on the afternoon of a matinee performance, he took his place at the stage door and waited. crowds had already begun to form around him, but he didn’t care. he wasn’t there for an autograph. he was there to reunite with the woman who came into his life one day and ruined all of his plans in the most amazing way possible. 

     “ rose DAWSON, huh ? “ he asked, waving around a playbill to grab her attention from what she was signing for a fan. “ in my completely unbiased opinion, i think it suits you. i was planning on asking you to change it myself one day, but i’m definitely not disappointed that you took the initiative. “ he half - shouted the words in an effort to speak over the excitement and chatter of the crowd surrounding him.

[springbandit]

“Delaying death is one of my favorite hobbies.” (Morgan & Cosmo)

Cosmo's little furry brows furrowed as she listened to the other's strange choice of hobby. "Cosmo not thinking is hobby. Is more...just..being...alive." She didn't want to discourage them from having hobbies, but, perhaps picking one that was less high stakes might be in their best interest. "Why not instead, be celebrating being alive? Keeping journal or taking picture for scrapbook?"

@itwcsmcroon

[ohbambix]

[ 𝔽𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕀𝕍𝔸𝕃 ] 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝕒 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝. | @itwcsmcroon

Kurt had never experienced a winter carnival before. The one's that popped up around Ohio were usually used as religious propaganda instead of just enjoying winter and a bit of fun, so he had opted out anytime the opportunity had been given. But this? Every cool blue, white, and purple lights that lit up the night, with squeals of glee excitement as other carnival goers took advantage of the many rides and games offered. And the one thing Kurt wanted out of all of this?

"Oh, can we go skating? Maybe get hot cocoa?" It's tradition, an inner voice whispers. "Both? Both. Come on." Although not being touchy feely, he still extends a hand towards his partner, Morgan, not even trying to hide the childish joy bubbling over on his face.

[hhalfdoomed]

closed for natasha romanoff / @itwcsmcroon​ !

usually, he is very good at minding his own business, that is; it’s much easier than getting all tangled up in people’s mess, whatever the kind it may be. maybe that’s the whole attitude thing that brings him down to the fact that he trusts nearly nobody, but marc thinks it’s probably just better that way. shallow friendships were easier to get rid of when necessary, and that’s the kind of ones he maintains. like people he regularly meets at the tavern on in the gym, avoiding the small talk because he is awful at it. same on the street. why on earth would someone want to start a conversation with a stranger just like that, he does not understand. but then he’s walking, there is a gym bag slung over his shoulder, and clearly the person walking before him has had a similar idea because they’ve got a bag on their own, and something slips out of it. it’s nothing scandalous, no illegal weapon or a questionable looking item. just a pair of shoes, the ones that are used for ballet, and it’s more of a subconscious move when he reaches for them, immediately grimacing at the mere idea of someone willingly sticking their toes into this. “sorry, lady, i mean, madam. miss. whatever.” he holds out the object after he taps the stranger’s shoulder to get their attention. “think you dropped these. how you willingly walk in those is beyond me. all good looking and shit, sure, but it must be freaking torture.”