#mama plink

[silvrash-797]

SURPRISE!!!!! 🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

In the wake of your recent announcement, I gathered some of our mutuals and we all are now throwing you a little tumblr “baby shower”!!

It’s not much, obviously, BUT we did all make you gifts! L

Congratulations, Ashie!!!! I pray that you and your little boy will remain healthy and safe, and I pray that the Lord will hold and protect you both through all your lives. 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

This is for you! May it embody all the fluff and good feels as a hug. :333

I love you, my darling Ashie!!!!! 💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

Mama, I'm STILL crying over this BBHBSNSKF

The colors are so lovely and the family is so precious and safe and warm and 😭😭😭😭🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[milkyplier]

For @skyloftian-nutcase, for being a wonderful writer, friend, nurse, safe space, and person in general. I hope Sky’s smile is infectious and it brings you as much serotonin as drawing it brought me. Thank you, Mama Lofty, for everything that you do!! 💖💖💖

[theecholegend]

I just. Love it so much ;-;

*squeals* I’m happy you’re happy

[theecholegend]

Oh dang I’ve been caught! Thanks Ashie and Plink T-T

My back hurts

[positivelybeastly]

Continued from (x): @gutrage

It's a chilling look that Logan shoots him, all primal animality and vehemence, charged and annoyed, the kind of glare that would have the students running for the hills . . . but Henry P. McCoy is, by now, as much an expert in blithe indifference to those who could kill him as he is in genetics, biophysics, electrical engineering, etcetera, etcetera.

So, off the look plinks into the alien underbrush, deflected by the eccentric genius' knowledge that Logan is merely being his cantankerous self - and the silent assurance that, if it does come down to a scrap, he can more than hold his own.

"In case you needed a reminder, my exacts words were, 'don't be surprised, Logan, if you find something cute and defenceless that attaches itself to you while we're out there. If it happens on Earth as often as it does - and it happens very often - then there's no reason it shouldn't happen out there, in that final frontier.'"

His tone is one of idle amusement and merriment - in the days following Charles' death, smiles have been in very short supply indeed, and while he doubts Logan appreciates him smiling at his discomfort, well, he can't really help it.

The Wolverine simply cannot help but pick up strays. Some things are noted constants, regardless of the planet you happened to be frequenting at the time.

Flicking open his translator, Hank thumbed through all the major galactic languages that he'd downloaded from the S.W.O.R.D database, wondering if he might get a ping for whatever the little tykes were speaking. Galactic Basic, no; High Skrull, more like Highly Unlikely; Debased Kree, perhaps? Shi'ar Prime, definitely not, although? Merchant-Slang Majesdanian . . . he'd leave that one running, just in case. It had come in useful before, after all.

"You may not be mama, but have you considered that you may, in fact, be papa? Not the step-papa, but the papa that stepped up, so to speak?" Hank's entirely too amused at Logan's discomfort with the beasties swarming him, even as he consults his X-PDA to cross-reference their location with the map.

He's capable of multi-tasking, he can laugh and be useful at the same time.

"Besides, it may not have crossed your mind just yet, but does it not occur to you that you're fulfilling the X-Men's mission statement right now? The promotion of mutantkind, the protection of the innocent and the defenceless . . . granted, I don't know if Charles ever thought it would quite look like this." He gestured up at the incredible alien flora and fauna that surrounds them, dearly wishing he had time to conduct a full xenobiological survey and take samples - but, they were on the clock. And they needed a direction in which to head.

"🎶 There's no earthly way of knowing, which direction we are going, there's no knowing where we're rowing, or which way the river's flowing, is it raining, is it snowing . . . 🎶"

He clicked his fingers, pointing east.

"Our destination, Logan. Give or take fifty meters, I'd say."

[3pirouette]

Fic: Give Him My Heart (2/2)

Title: Give Him My Heart

Chapter 2 of In The Bleak Midwinter

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: The surprise part 2 to In the Beak Midwinter. Thesokovianaccords likes Rom Coms, So I needed to give her the Rom Com AU ending we all want. 

A/N: (or, not so much of a surprise if you looked at the AO3…) @thesokovianaccords: I couldn’t leave it bittersweet for you, and knowing how much you like the Rom Coms, I decided it needed a better AU ending. I had hoped to have this done MUCH sooner, but what better excuse than Steggy Week? 

For Steggy Week 2k23 Day 4: Family and Friends. 

Readers, you can decide if you want this to attach to In the Bleak Midwinter, or if you want it to stand as it’s own AU. Insert your own “Steve didn’t get frozen and all is well in 1946” head canon. 

Title is the last line from “In the Bleak Midwinter” by Christina Rossetti

~*~

It was a raucous mess. It was tight, she could barely slide through the bodies, hands up overhead to try to make her way. Someone was playing piano in the next room, and the every-so-often off-key plinking of holiday music kept ringing in her ear. 

“Looks like the only seat left is Stevie’s lap, Carter!” Bucky winked at her, bringing his mug to his lips. 

“James Buchanan Barnes!” Bucky nearly choked on the mouthful of beer he had, looking up, comically panicked. “You get up and offer that woman a seat like the gentleman I raised you to be!” Mama B’s voice rang out clear over the din of the party. 

Steve started make a joke, but he was cut off by the loud, warm woman as well. “And if you think for one minute, Stephen Grant Rogers, that you’re immune from your manners, well your Mama would be rolling in her grave right now!” 

Steve and Bucky both stood, jumping from their spots on the couch as Mrs. Barnes entered the room, dishtowel in one hand, glass of wine in the other. “Miss Carter, have a seat. Don’t you mind these boys.”

Peggy sat gently, warmed by the welcome of the matriarch. “Oh, I don’t mind them at all. I’ve gotten very well acquainted with their shenanigans.”

Mama B shook her head but smiled, her thick gray hair attempting to escape from her bun. “Well acquainted or not, they’ll behave when they’re here.”

“Yes,  Ma’am,” Steve and Bucky both chorused, as if they’d said it over and over their whole lives. Bucky sat on the arm of the couch, to which his mother raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, as Steve and Peggy sat on the small loveseat, pressed together. 

“Now, isn’t that nicer?” Mama B asked, smirking. She took a long drink of wine as she moved over to Bucky, holding him close to her. “You’re so grown, I remember when you were just a boy, running around at my feet.”

“Ma!” He whined halfheartedly, only faking trying to pull away from her. 

She smiled when he did eventually wrap his arms around her. “If you’re well acquainted with their shenanigans overseas, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear about all the times they were little holy terrors right here in this house.” She smiled at Peggy like she was telling her a secret instead of recounting stories she’d told over dinners for decades. “The messes! The yelling! Oh!” She leaned over, pinching Steve’s cheek, “The fights!” She shook her head. 

“A handful from day one, I see?” Peggy asked, pinching Steve’s other cheek with her free hand much to his dismay. 

“Indeed!” Mama B pulled Away from Bucky, pressing a kiss on his head. “Now, dinner will be ready soon, and James I’ll need your help setting everything out.”

“Course, Ma,” he agreed, smiling. 

Steve had his eyes on Peggy, though, as Bucky and his mother continued to talk about the dinner layout. Her shoulders were tight, even if there was a smile on her face as she watched a group of small children run through the room, party hats askew and Sunday best askew in the way only little kids could do so that it seemed charming. “Peg?”

She hummed as she turned to him, eyes meeting his. 

“You ok?”

“It’s so different,” she replied softly after a second, huffing a laugh through her nose as a smaller child lagged behind, running through the room after all the others had already gone. “We were always so formal, so quiet.”

Steve smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Told ya it was a sight to see.” He paused, setting his mug on the table. “Is it too much?” He asked, suddenly concerned. “Do you want to go?”

“No, no. I-“ Peggy paused, setting her hand on his. “It’s just a little overwhelming.” She sighed, leaning into his shoulder. “Our holidays were… solemn. Quiet. I didn’t so much as look forward to them as endured them. Long, quiet traditions that made me feel like a nuisance for wanting to have fun. This?” She smiled. “I could get used to this.”

“Ya ain’t never gonna get used to this,” Bucky interrupted, patting her on the shoulder. “But you might get used to the food. Ma’s food?” Bucky smiled, standing and kissing his mother’s cheek. “Heaven!” He turned, heading out to the kitchen. “Steve, give me a hand!”

Steve looked at Peggy, but stood and Kissed Mama B on her cheek as well after Peggy nodded for him to go, that she’d be just fine on her own.

“Those boys,” Mam B muttered, her voice full of happiness. She reached out and took Peggy’s hand to pull her to standing. She set har wine down and took both Peggy’s hands in hers. “It is, truly, so nice to have you here. Steve wrote about you all the time.”

Peggy tried her best not to squirm under the older woman’s earnest gaze. She felt her cheeks going red as she blushed, looking away. “Only the good pieces, I hope.”

She looked like she wanted to joke, like she would have if this hadn’t been their first time meeting, but instead she dropped Peggy’s hands and gently framed her face. “Thank you for bringing my boys home to me. Thank you for keeping them safe.”Before Peggy could stutter out a reply, The older woman’s lips were on her forehead, laying a gentle kiss. “Welcome to the family, dear.”

She turned a left, the serious moment gone as soon as she reached the hall, her voice loud and yelling that the potatoes couldn’t go int he middle of the table because that was for the hams. She left Peggy stunned, heart beating in her chest. Even through the crush of people, she could see the way they bickered, good natured and from love, as Mama B made Steve and Bucky completely reset the table to her desired plan. The children ran through again at her feet, bouncing with the excitement of the impending feast. 

It was, absolutely, a family she wanted to be in, and one she no double would need a little time to get used to, but with all of the love in this house, she was sure it would take no time at all. 

Bucky leaned into the room, body half concealed by the doorway. “Carter- hurry up before-“ He stopped, sentence falling out of his throat before he could finish, shaking his head. “Ma! What’d you do to Peggy’s forehead?”

“Nothing! I welcomed her to the family!” Her voice called fron the kitchen. 

Bucky held out his hand, pulling you through with him towards the dining room and then into the kitchen by the sink where Mama B was starting to pile the dishes. “Yeah, and you gave her a Maybelline tattoo, too!”

She turned, licking her thumb and smiling. “Just a little smudge…”

Bucky turned, pulling the rag from the counter and running it under water. “Ma, she’s not your kid, you can’t take it off with spit.”

“She’s my kid now just as much as Steve is,” she smiled, running her thumb over Peggy’s forehead. 

Peggy, shocked and charmed, didn’t move even as Bucky pulled her from his Mother’s hands, running the wet dishcloth over the spot. “Still,” he sighed. “Let her get to know you before you’re putting spit on her face.”

“Who spit in Peg’s face?” Steve asked, coming in the kitchen, only half hearing the conversation over the din. 

“No no,” Mama B muttered, pressing her hand to Steve’s chest to placate him. “Just a little leftover love on her forehead is all.” She leaned up and kissed Steve’s cheek before moving past him, picking up another dish and hurrying it out to the table. 

“Not him too, Ma!” Bucky called out, moving over to Steve’s face, pulling the dishcloth over the red lipstick left there. “She’s gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, pressing his lips together. “No one would blame you if you left, never to be seen again, Carter.”

Peggy leaned into Steve, smiling up at him. His thumb ran over her forehead, wiping away the last bit of lipstick. “Oh, I think I’ll stick around.”

Bucky tossed the rag back on the counter, tipping his head towards the dining table full of steaming dishes. “Well then, grab a plate. The whole place is gonna be worse than the Mess Hall in a bout 5 minutes and you're gonna have to fight for every spoonful.”

Peggy followed Steve, holding his hand tight as they took their place in the noisy, messy, barely organized line to plate themselves Christmas Dinner. Her heart was full in a way she hadn’t been able to anticipate, with mama B’s voice ringing through her head over and over. Welcome to the family, dear. 

Welcome to the family, dear.

[milkyplier]

If you’re still doing the prompt game, how about snow? Hope you’re doing ok ❤️

“Snow, why’d it have to be snow?” Legend complains. He’s immediately pelted in the back of the head by a snowball.

“Stop complaining and live a little!” Wind declares, before the snowball is returned to him with much more intensity than it was delivered.

[hollowwaterfairy]

Me whenever I see Quelaag lol

I don't know what I made

[theecholegend]

Hello!! I heard you were bored :)

How are you? And what is your opinion on bees?

Yay! Mama Plink!

I’m doing alright. Like I said, bored but alright. And I LOVE bees! They are so adorable especially the big fat ones that can’t even fly straight. I’ve never been stung by anything before so no reason to fear them

[zofiawithaz]

Please Don't Bother Trying To Find Her, She's Not There

TIMING: The Last Days Of November

LOCATION: Abandoned Cabin, somewhere near the Wormwoods. Underground, mostly.

PARTIES: Zofia Kowalska

SUMMARY: Zofia's been held captive since the summer. She's not really herself anymore. But she does manage to escape so at least there's that! :)

CONTENT WARNINGS: Implied Torture, Blurring of reality, Hallucinations, Murder (it's totally deserved. This time.)

Isolation was a peculiar monster. 

It stretched the darkness and silence into all manner of things, distorting them like a fun house mirror- time, memories, emotions. All things tore themselves apart and remade themselves, a warped mockery of what they had once been. 

How long had it been? Months? Years? It couldn’t have been centuries- not unless the occasional faces that floated through, poking and prodding and slicing for information bore a striking resemblance to some long dead relative. But then, perhaps faces were just one more thing that being alone had robbed her of. Perhaps Zofia was damned to see her captors in every face she would ever come across. But damned for what, exactly? The vampire laughed to herself in the dark, the sound of it wrong to her ears. Damned for embracing the gift of life at the cost of the life force of others? Damned for pretending she was not a monster? Damned for daring to dream that she could be happy?

Had it all been a dream? That stretch of time in the little coastal town with creatures like her hiding in plain sight?  With people like the sweet boy Zofia had treated like her own blood. Or the blonde man with kindest eyes she’d seen in years and the heart of a poet. Old faces that had loved her once upon a time flickered through dreams and nightmares whenever pain or exhaustion claimed her. She remembered their names and hers, hanging on to memories by a thread.  But perhaps it had not been kindness or love in those eyes she remembered. Why would they have left her there? Why hadn’t those eyes searched for her here, in the darkness? He had left her once before. He had run- he’d gone far away, hiding from his past and his present. Hiding from her. Perhaps he was hiding from her again. Or perhaps, perhaps he had simply forgotten her. Perhaps he had had enough of her, and decided it was easier to leave her to rot. It was too messy, too complicated, too much- much too much. She hated it. Hated that she could once love so freely and try to protect what she cared for, and that when it counted that same love and protection wouldn’t be afforded to her. She wouldn’t be plucked from this hell she’d found herself in by an old friend or lover. She was simply on her own.

Hours days years moments seconds instants blurred together with the steady plink, plink, plink, of water against a rusty pipe. The noise had been her only constant companion. It was a steady reminder that she was there. It was the only way she could tell dream from reality. And even then, she was never certain.

Time ticked on to the rhythm of the water. 

“Zofia,” a voice whispered to her in the dark, one that had been kind to her once so very long ago. The details of her face blurred as time had nearly robbed her of the memory. Her mother was centuries dead, her body six feet under the dirt a world away. And yet there she stood in the corner of the room,  smiling at her as she had when the vampire had been a far younger and kinder thing. “You have teeth and claws and wits. Why do you let them cage you like a wildcat for them to tame?” Zofia ran a parched tongue over fangs that yearned to bite into flesh, to pull life back into herself and reclaim all that had been lost. “I don’t know, mama.” She sighed to what she knew deep down was just an empty cell. She resigned herself to silence once more. 

Silence and the ever present plink, plink, plink. 

Time stretched and slowed and warped. And paused. 

And then all at once, there it was. 

A curse not so far off. The sharp sweet metallic smell. The sound of papers fluttering to the ground. Her senses honed in on the smell. They gave her sips every now and again- old blood from blood bags. Enough to keep her useful, enough to heal whatever they inflicted. Enough to keep her from turning spawn. But fresh blood was something she hadn’t smelled in so very, very long. If she could free herself, she could find someone and  she could drink her fill, and it would be fixed-all of it. The madness, the water, the pain- maybe it would all go away.

 She twisted herself. Pulling. Straining against her confinements with a newfound resolve. They wouldn’t budge. 

Zofia looked around the space for something. She was not an animal in a cage. The voice was right. She had wits. A mind. That was what separated her from an animal. And despite the fact that her mind treaded dangerously close to shattering to pieces, it could still come up with an idea. “Something sturdy. Something small,” whispered the voice. Something to pick its way out of the lock. Looking out into the dark room, she tried to determine what was really there. A pen that was too far away. A stack of papers bound together with a paperclip, also just out of her reach. A wire hanger lay on the ground nearby a makeshift coat rack. They’d never liked to get their things dirty when they came to play interrogator with her. Her eyes locked on the hanger. Quiet as she could, she stretched a leg out to catch onto the hanger. She dragged it closer, so slowly she thought she might have found a way to slip through the cracks of time and found herself stuck inside a tenth of a second. A low growl rumbled in her throat as she focused, shimmying the hanger toward her hands. She didn’t remember ever picking a lock before. But there was a great deal of things she couldn’t quite recall if she’d ever actually done, so she prayed perhaps her hands would know what to do.

Another eternity or instant later, she heard the soft click of metal releasing. She moved her arms and looked down at the strange hands. Were they hers? She supposed so. She hadn’t seen them in so long, that they could very well be a strangers. Her fascination was pulled from the reappearance of her own hands by the metallic scent that was still drifting through the air. Her eyes darkened. 

Perhaps she was a beast after all. Perhaps she always was the predator that belonged inside the bars of a cage. After all, she prowled with the easy, lethal grace of a wildcat. She surveyed the tray of holy water and cruel knives they’d used on her, plucking one of the blades from it’s place. It would serve as her claws now. As much as she longed to slake her thirst from the blood she could almost hear pumping through their veins, she could faintly recall a time where she’d bit one of their kind. Their blood was all acid and fire. It was their defense mechanism against those that would drink their fill to be free of those that hunted. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

She moved quickly. Quietly. She watched the man. He was far more interested in the pages of the magazine he’d cut his finger on to notice that the ever present energy of the vampire he guarded had grown closer. Striking like a scorpion, Zofia watched the blood cascade down the man’s neck for what felt like hours. Listening with a demented sort of glee as they gasped like a fish in the hook. “You should not have tried to break me.” Even her voice was foreign to her now. It had been so long since it had formed words instead of sobs or screams. She let out a hush, soft words in a foreign tongue tripping through the air as she pretended to soothe the dying hunter, smiling as though she were tucking a small child into bed. The look of horror in their unseeing eyes was a comfort to her. They’d finally gotten what they’d wanted, after all. They’d seen the monster that lurked in the shadows. Even if it had come at the cost of their life. “Dobranoc, draniu.” She cooed, standing up. 

Zofia rolled her shoulders back, and spat on the ground where the dead hunter lay. It was taking all of what little willpower she had left to not stoop and drink the poisonous blood. She made her way up, up, out of the ground.

Out of the old cabin. Out, into the cold night. 

The bastard had friends. She remembered their faces well. Let them come looking for her, she thought with a laugh. She’d sing them a lullaby as she sent them off to unending sleep with their godless bastard of a compatriot. She stalked toward the twinkling lights of town, following her nose toward the promise of food. Toward people she could sink her teeth into. She smiled. Like her friends time, memory, and emotion, she too had been torn asunder and made anew in the darkness of her mind. Soft, gentle Sofie no more. Zofia once again.

[atangledfate]

🔮 (Whisper)

The smell of smoke, it burned into her lungs and permeated her senses. She tried to breath but it was so hard, her little hands clawing at the dirt. She pulled herself along the ground coughing and gasping for air. But the smoke was everywhere inside the little hut. She needed to escape, to find a way out. Where were her mama and papa? where were the others of her tribe? She could feel the flames licking at her tail, and burning the tips of her hair.

She found the edge of the leather that made up the huts wall and wriggled her way under it gasping for air as she pulled herself out into the night sky. The mud and grime under her paws as she stared out into the village before her. The Small pup could barely comprehend what she saw as the tears welled up in her eyes. Strange machines floating about her home, burning the huts and trees to ash. The Warriors of the village tried to fight back, and yet sticks and stones did nothing against such demons.

Her hand reached forward as her Father managed to pry his spear into the eye socket of one of the machines. Giving a vicious growl---only for another to coat him in flame! His screams filling the night as his body was covered in fire! his screams was all she could hear as she stared on in horror! Her father, the chieftain burning alive till only ash and bone remained!

Fear filled her heart, she wanted to flee to run and yet she was paralyzed! stuck to the spot her breath coming faster and faster as she crawled toward his remains! So many dead bodies littering the ground and screams still echoing through the darkness. She felt her fingers coil about a spear, her eyes lowering and remembering her fathers brave words. ' Protect the Tribe, that is our duty ' it was all she could hear in her ears.

Her fear never left her, yet she found herself picking the spear up and chucking it with all her might at one of those round bots. It plinked off its round body, as it turned toward her. Its red eyes flashed, and she barely had time to scream! Its wicked claw and singular Wheel came ot bare and she felt it slice through her throat in one swipe! Blood filling her throat--- pain filling her body and she fell to the ground. She gurgled on it, and stare as the crimson liquid began to surround her.

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

Back in the present Whisper pushed the Ball away, some memories were to hard for her to face. If only she'd died then, if only that had been the end of her story.

Yet she remained... the lone survivor of her Tribe.

[milkyplier]

Okay so I know I’m really late for this but I did that thing where I saw it the day after it wad posted so I thought it was too late and then overthought it for the next two days so here I am bc I wanna be there for you, too. Even if I am late.

My riding instructor has been something of a second mother to me. She opens her home to me, offers me advice and love, hard work, a place to sleep, three meals a day. Everything I could ever ask out of life. All I have to do is ask, and suddenly she shares everything she’s got with me. I’ll never let go of life because she and the life that she lets me live with her is worth living for.

Every year around thanksgiving, my church gathers up turkeys, boxes of mashed potatoes and stuffing, cans of cranberry sauce and green beans, all the kinds of things that would go in a thanksgiving meal. (All this stuff is donated by members of the church.) One on night, we all gather and we load boxes with the makings of a meal and we put the boxes in the van and we drive them out to folks who need them. We give them to them, and we pray with them, and it is the most wonderful way to spend a night by blessing people. They always smile, they are always kind.

It’s not much but I hope it helps, and again, I’m sorry I’m so late 😅

Hey lovelies. Sorry about this but someone please give me some kind of reminder that there are good people in this world, because I am filled with very angry thoughts and need to wind down.

[littlesparklight]

Imagine if the other Achaean leaders found that out...

[gracie-p8-officialblog]

I finally completed the POTO parody of We Don't Talk About Bruno so here it is to tell you guys I'm NOT dead

Raoul: What if I didn't understand what the note meant?

Piangi: Then you'd better figure it out because it was coming for YOU!

Carlotta: We don't talk about the Phantom of the Opera

We don't talk about the Phantom, but

It was opening night! 

Piangi: It was opening night! 

Carlotta: We were getting ready

And there wasn’t a curse in my sight 

Piangi: No curses allowed in sight!

Carlotta: The Phantom came in with a mischievous grin!

Piangi: THUNDER!

Carlotta: Are you telling this story or am I?

Piangi: I’m sorry, mi Cara, go on

Carlotta: The Phantom said, “Beware! You toad!” 

Piangi: Why did he tell us? 

Carlotta: In doing so, he floods my brain! 

Piangi: Run and hide for cover

Carlotta: Backdrops falling down like rain!

Piangi: She was saved but anyways

Carlotta and Piangi: We don't talk about the Phantom of the Opera

We don't talk about the Phantom! 

Meg Giry: Hey, grew to live in fear of the Phantom stuttering and stumbling

I can always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling

I associate him with the sound of organ notes, plink, plink, plink

It's a heavy lift to be hidden in the shadows

Always left mama and the managers fumbling

Grappling with threats they couldn't understand

Do you understand?

Buquet: Seven Foot FRAME! 

Cape along his back! When he calls your name

It all fades to black! For he will catch you

With his magic lasso! 

Piangi, Meg, Carlotta, Buquet: We Don’t Talk About The Phantom of the Opera/Opera Ghost No, No, No!

We Don’t Talk About The Phantom of the Opera/Opera Ghost No, No, No!

We don’t talk about the Phantom of the Opera/Opera Ghost

Sorelli: He told me my lover would die

The next day, DEAD!

(No, no!) Reyer: He told me I’d mess up my notes

And just like he said! 

(No, no!)

Monsieur Andre: He said that all my hair would disappear

Now, look at my hair!

(No, no!) 

Everyone except Raoul: Your fate is sealed when the Phantom’s notes are read!

Christine: Father told me that an angel of music 

Would be promised and someday come to me… 

He told me that my voice would soar

Like the angels descending from heaven

Madame Giry: Start warming up, girls

Meg: He told me that the life of my dreams

Would be just out of reach 

Given to another

Christine and Meg: It’s like I hear him now…

Carlotta: Dear Vicomte

I want not a sound out of you

Christine: And I can hear him now!

Raoul: Umm, The Phantom

Well, about the Phantom

I really need to know about the Phantom! 

Give me the truth and the whole truth, Phantom!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Buquet: Madame Giry, everyone’s here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Madame Giry and opera staff: Take your places

(Repeat everything while Christine sings “And I’m fine”)

Everyone but Raoul: He’s here! The Phantom of the opera

Raoul: Why did I talk about the Phantom? Everyone but Raoul: Don’t talk about the Phantom! Raoul: I never should have brought up the Phantom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[silvrash-797]

I knew the family was big, now I'm learning just HOW big. Love meeting all my new relations!

New Hurricane Family Tree

Hi everyone! I'd like to make a new current Hurricane family tree. If you're in the Hurricane Family, please reblog/reply to this post or send me an ask/dm and let me know who you're related to--i.e. who your HF auncles/parents/siblings/cousins/kids are (or if you are some other relation like a pallweople, a ghost that haunts the house, or a pet) or if you don't know your position that's cool too, just let me know you're in the fam and who schlorped you. I'll also include everyone's pronouns so if they're not in your bio or pinned post, let me know those too please.

[isabellayourboyfriendshere]

*plink*

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*CRACK*

Pepa woke with a start, a shock of lightning zapping her as she heard her window crack.

Cursing she checked the clock and looked twice to make sure it was the right time. Just after midnight. Who would be wanting her after midnight?

Unless...

"Mi vida, mi corazon, let down your hair" she heard Felix shout. Immediately she opened her window, getting his attention.

"You're not meant to be here, my mother will find out" she hissed, finding herself wringing her hands together, a cloud forming above her head. She hated clouds, knowing that people would point and stare making her more self conscious thus more clouds, eventually turning to rain or thunder.

"But amor we've been courting for six months! Surely you can let your Principe up for one night?" Felix asked hopefully.

Unlikely.

Alma was firm when it came to their courtship, Felix couldn't sleep in the same room or bed as Pepa until they were married. Pepa protested bitterly but was met with a warning of not seeing Felix again. She kept her mouth quiet afterwards.

Felix on the other hand was keen to keep on Alma's good side. He and Pepa had met in the market and with Felix being new in town, Alma suggested that Pepa take him on a tour. The tour lasted for over six hours and by the end Felix was head over heels for his beloved. It took a while for Pepa to fall for his charms but when she did she found herself falling hard.

Now six months down the line here they were with Felix trying to sneak in.

Pepa weakened, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. Nope. "Cassita, help me out here?" She asked the house. Cassita gave a rumble, turning bricks into steps. Pepa gave a nod of thanks, watching as Felix climbed.

Even though he wasn't the most slimmest of men, he was definitely light on his feet. And with his words as well. Mi vida, la Liz de mi vida, mi corazon, all of these made Pepa swoon and forget everything. After a bad day in the fields Felix would walk her back home, her thunders turning sunny by the time they reached Casita.

"Come on, before anyone..." "Sees?" Pepa felt herself turn cold, a light snow shower starting. She turned around to find her sister in the doorway of her bedroom. Julietta pursed her lips and pointed them at Felix, raising her eyebrows accusingly.

"Hermana, what do you think you're doing? You do know Mama is going to find him!" Julietta argued. Pepa rolled her eyes dismissing her with a wave "Mama is not going to find out unless you tell her" she insisted, the snow flurry being replaced with more clouds.

Julietta kept quiet. She knew Mama would disapprove she just KNEW. But why shouldn't she allow her sister this little bit of happiness? Pepa often bore the brunt of Alma's moods, stern looks and being told to calm down, clear skies whenever she got too much which according to Pepa felt like ALL the time!

She was about to open her mouth before deciding against it "I didn't see anything" she said, closing the door behind her.

And that was the way it was till they married. Bruno caught them one time but was sworn to complete secrecy with threats of feeding him to the rats...

It was simple, Felix adored Pepa and Pepa adored Felix.