#they can threaten and yell and scream and call u everything in the book but... they cant silence u

[yooniesim]

A few more hours to vote 😈 I'll add one "yes" at the end result for bewb.

More seriously though, I know it's hard to tell sometimes with some people, but atp I can always clock a racist. And they will always go mask-off the minute you tick them off. Because idc how many pro-blm posts you reblog- if you're a white person and you directly say, "I've been to a BLM protest, what have YOU done" *to a black person*, that is racist. It shows a mentality that they think you are below them and you should be *thanking* them for bothering to give you any support when they didn't have to. And that they think there's no way anything you've done in your community, as a lowly black person, could compare to them being Present While White. They're offended that you dared to criticize them when they... voted for a black woman and went to a protest years ago. Supporting BLM has become some weird claim of activism that white people can suddenly use as a get-out-of-antiblackness-free card, and it's weird. Meanwhile, said white people can rant about you for weeks or months, but when you dare talk back, you're suddenly "hostile", "mean", "crazy", "mentally unwell", and "unstable". You're the wrong one, you should be quiet, you should "move on" bc they're supposedly done with the subject and their word is law. (They'll keep talking about it tho, they just want you to be quiet because they said so!) They think you should kill yourself for opening your mouth & will tell you to do so. They can thrive on microaggressions and associate with people that think it's fine to call you slurs, but it's okay- they want to defund the police! That's why I don't believe anyone on here that constantly has to state they're non-bigoted & reblogs as many posts as they can to seem like such a good person. If you were so sweet, if you were so kind, you wouldn't have to tell anyone. You wouldn't be telling people to kill themselves at age 35 or whatever. And you'd listen when multiple black ppl are telling you "hey this is fucked up" instead of doubling down. But man... they always just double down.

stupidity below the cut! 😂

[c00pswhore]

South Park headcanons

these are my personal takes pls dont burn me with a torch <3

edit: was written and posted before s26 ep 5

Main 4 and Butters!

Stan is “the boy next door” trope and that is one of the millions of reasons he hates living on the farm

SPECIFICALLY: because it makes him the stereotypical redneck that lives in a small town and happens to live on a farm.

Wendy is the one who introduced him to the trope in the first place because she was "the girl next door and my boyfriend is the boy next door!!"

He wasn't really big on books and took Wendy literally hence moving away from Wendy totally convinced him they were over.

He cried about it until Wendy showed up for game night (board games) and she was gushing about the boy next door moving "fit perfectly" for their relationship.

Then they broke up over a game of monopoly (they usually get back together over the weekend)

Shelly found out about his hidden alcohol and then immediately showed him her stash. She still threatened to snitch because he was too young to be drinking.

He and Shelly have a game where they take a shot every time Randy says something about weed.

Randy's middle initial is S, I like to believe that his middle name is Stanley, and Stan is named after him :P

Stan’s middle name is Francis because that was Sharon's first option but Randy thought it would be hilarious if all of them had S in their names.

Eric "Theodore" Cartman makes fun of Stan for his middle name because "Fuck kind of name is Francis??"

Kyle has refused to utter his middle name to anyone. Not even Stan. Apparently it starts with a U.

The boys only know this because once when they were playing over at Kyle's house and his cousin Kyle's family came to visit and Sheila was calling for Kyle to get his cousin to join them.

Kyle didn't answer the first few times so when Shelia burst into his room and started yelling "Kyle U-" Broflovski screamed and followed her to the living room, leaving the other 3 in absolute bewilderment.

Kyle's middle name is Uziah. His parents call him that ONLY when family comes to visit because of his cousin Kyle S. or when he's in HUGE trouble.

Whenever his cousin first came to visit, he begged his mom not to call him by his middle name because

1. Cartman 2. Cartman and 3. Cartman

So Kyle 2 was settled that fateful day.

Kyle plays knight's in training with his knighted brother because he secretly thinks it's so cool.

Like he sat and read up on everything he could learn about Canadian knight's for Ike just to make their play more accurate. And he will never admit it to anyone.

Kenny's middle name is Logan. Cartman claims that his middle name is the most common name for poor people.

Kenny got his first phone (iPhone 7) from Kyle and all of his usernames use his middle name

Logang.McC1 is his main iteration and he absolutely cyberbullies anyone who interacts from the Logan Paul side of the internet

Also laughs at Cartman for getting pissed off that Kenny doesn't care if his middle name is for poor people because again, Logan Paul is living proof it isn't.

Kenny knows sign language and is fluent. He has selective mutism due to trauma (negligent parents, immortal, foster care) and uses it to talk.

Sometimes he just doesn't wanna talk and he'll just start signing and nobody knows what he said. Ironically.

Taught Butters sign language to solely shit talk Cartman with him.

Cartman swears that he can feel them talking about him, but doesn't care enough to learn to find out.

Kyle and Stan know some basic communication signs and they use it sparingly. Otherwise they'll just text him.

Kenny and Karen have a secret language that they speak to each other in.

It started whenever their parents would get drunk/high and start to fight, which scared Karen, so Kenny invented their secret language to make her laugh without drawing too much attention to them.

Kenny loves playing tea time and princesses with Karen (hence why he loves being Princess Kenny) even though they don't have all the materials

The reason the other boys don't laugh at Kenny for being into "girly" things is because Clyde made the mistake of laughing at him, after going to get him to play superhero's and 15 ish mins later in Cartman's basement Mysterion showed up and beat the actual shit out of Mosquito.

Cartman is currently attempting to convince Liane to get their house open and going for extra money to move out.

Liane told him to make a unique hot dog and maybe she would consider it.

Cartman determined to revive Cartman Burgers (R.I.P) came up with his world "famous" chili dog recipe.

Liane was mortified that Cartman even considered using chili and told him never mind.

He was pissed off for weeks.

Cartman is surprisingly good at cooking, and before his untimely demise, he used to cook for Clyde Frog.

When he isn't being a complete psychopath, Cartman streams and records on Twitch for money, using his hotdog house as guilt bait.

The only people who watch are the Boys and they all make fun of him in the chat. He always reads them out loud and cusses them out.

Cartman uploads clips of his twitch streams to TikTok, as a joke to make fun of Kyle, and they blew up.

The reason? Fat kid screaming at chat for bullying him and uses racist remarks as a comeback. Perfect gamer material.

His Twitch channel now has 1,000 subs and a dedicated subreddit.

The boys were initially jealous, but laugh whenever they find out Cartman started the subreddit.

Cartman's dream job at one point was to be a sniper.

Butters loves Kyle's afro because his parents only let him have shaved sides.

Butters hair naturally is sorta wavy so he harasses Kyle about his hair routine. Kyle told Butters he had one more time before he would karate chop the shit out of him. (Kyle ended up spilling his 35 step care routine though)

Butters and Stan both have honorary access to the girls board game club and Butters only goes to offer Stan moral support

Butters, Kyle and Stan all stay after school for football and soccer practice and he usually invites the two boys over to his house to watch Terrance and Phillip.

Butters got his nickname because his hair is the color of Butter.

JK: In preschool he brought a stick of butter for show and tell and tried to explain that it was his pet butterfly, because earlier that week his father told him the butter flies joke.

Butters joins Kenny and Karen sometimes for princesses and tea but he dresses up as a pretty ballerina.

That's all I got really. :P

[skitteringjunbug]

Oh Teeny. You had to know this was coming as soon as you rebloged that fluff ask...

But A-Z for Mixer!!

Give me that sweet sweet Mixer fluff!!!!

That is all. Thank you.

Flats it all Kert! FINE! (pulls out book of Mixer info)

hehe teasing. ok, lets get this starting. *pops knuckles*

(this is nightsongtale cannon, not private cannon info)

A-Affection. In Song City partner ships with monsters and humans are still a bit frowned on. While in unsafe spots he gives space and walks behind but their partner can feel his protective aura. In more private, one likely be able to walk more then a step or two with out him holding or touching them. He loves being able to hear their soul song as close as he can.

B- Best Memory. When Suave gave him his custom laptop and figuring out how to make his own songs. He now was able to use his magic that he wasnt really allowed to while in their underground and it was like opening a blocked cell. Suddenly he had wide open accuse.

C-Cat or Dog. He actually doesnt like ether. They have no respect for music or his tech setup! There was a temmi in his wires and they completely chewed throw them all! Weeks to get everything back up and running!

D-Dreams. He wants to be the first monster to get a gold vinyl. He himself doesnt want to be famous but he wants his music to be heard by everyone.

E-Evenings. Evenings are normally when the club is open and he is DJ-ing. When he isnt working, (he does get days off) he will be at the local record store finding old vinyl's and cds seeing if he can bring songs no one wants to hear anymore into something pleasing.

F- (already answered)

G- Giggle. Like a traditional Papyrus he has that neyheh laugh with a bit of a tenor and musical play. like moving up the scale laugh. He likes good music puns but he will never admit it.

H-Hugs. He loves hugs! He will be more then happy to have a partner sitting in his lap hugging on them while he works on a piece in his room. Contact and care. Once again, he knows how big he is and is not afraid to use that to his advantage and 'cage' in his partner.

I-Instrument. Technically he would call his turn tables an instrument but he does play the drums. Something about the vibrations makes him happy.

J- (already answered)

K- (already answered)

L-Love. Playlists. So many sharing audio songs and sharing links to youtube videos. He would make sure that their name shows up atleast twice in every playlist in the songs. When at the club he would even be humming the songs as he thinks of his love interest.

M-Memory. Opening night at the club and seeing humans and monsters opening dancing and having fun. sharing in simple pleasure of music and he didnt have to use his noise canceling headphones once that night.

N- No. He cant stand being yelled at. He is big and knows when he feels like hes threatened he can cause damage. While he wasnt on the front lines of the war, he was close enough to hear screams and yelling. Angry music, like heavy heavy metal throws him off unless the intent of the song doesnt match.

O- Occupation- He would love to be work making songs for Pop Stars and J-pop groups.

P- (already answered)

Q-Questions. Unsure how to really answer this one. He...kinda is a monster. He knows ghosts are real. OH! He believe 'worms' in the songs are real and will wiggle into ones soul song! Suave used to tell him that a wiggle worm when you had the same song playing over and over again was a punishment.

R-Romantic. This skeleton takes love ballads to help set his dates and how to treat his partner. Mostly over the top county love songs.

S-Smile. Watching someone dancing and happy when a song he made. The magic he put into it. Enjoying the freedom to just...dance.

T-Together. He is hard to remember times and places to be so he may forget to spend time but the moment a partner is within his hearing he will cling as long as they let him.

U-Unbearable. Hmm. He will forget to eat and sleep if he gets into a song that doesnt want to proper form and will put his headphones on to ignore everything, even his own brother if something is bothering him. He hides to much sometimes and doesnt want to share and make anyone else sad.

V- Videos. Not really. He does record them singing but over all he doesnt like carrying a phone on him. It gives off a weird sound when to close to his soul song.

W- Wedding. Small with close people unless his partner wants more. He cant handle large gathering. He can only do it at the club because he has his own booth away from people.

(you have to wait on x,y,and z)

[bibbykins]

can u give us a glimpse into what arguing w/ the princes would be like? love ur work btw!!

You bet! I actually had something written about this ages ago but never finished it so I’ll paste it here and add some more!

Warnings: 18+ (just like my whole page and all my works are)This is where the toxicity and unhealthiness of these relationships show, manipulation, yelling, lying, mentions of sex, mentions of rough sex, mentions of various sexual acts (cunnilingus, fellatio, exhibition) I beg of you to not put up with any of this shit irl let fiction stay in the fictional world yknow? I always ramble in my fics about this but I figured I should add it here for good measure

Jin:

Where the other boys rarely ever just “argue” and it is either a fight or nothing, you guys just argue sometimes, never rlly fight

This ties back to the fierce honesty policy you have between each other, but you both are so stubborn so arguing does happen

You both usually start by saying snarky things until one of you breaks and says what is really bothering them, which doesn’t take long at all

If you cry, congrats, you automatically won bc Jin not only does not know how to deal with a woman’s tears, he cannot fathom his one true love crying

Although you usually try to continue explaining your reasoning bc you don’t wanna win by crying, you wanna win bc you’re right

Jin, similar to Jimin, respects you a lot, so the other girls seldom ever catch him acting like a clown’

His downfall is just being bad at expressing his feelings bc he thinks you just know, like you read minds or something

Jin usually apologizes by asking what you want after he forfeits his pride so if it’s a gift, he’s on it, sex? say less. 

He usually prefers to pamper you for a night, not even cumming during sex unless you tell him to

You’re the one who threatens the other fellas when they’re disrespecting their s/o, intentionally or not, and boy are they frightened. You rlly have a way with insults

Yoongi:

Bickers with you, but doesn't fight and everyone does not understand how bc he’s so standoffish to everyone else

Bc your relationship has the most public eyes on it, gossip columns are floored when they cannot find flaws or rumors of fights, and most are too intimidated by Yoongi to just make them up

You both read each other like a book, so the only time anything comes up is if you don’t like what you’re reading at that moment and vice versa, then a fight might start but it is shockingly rare

If he makes you cry, the fight is over, he lost. Yes, this is a running theme among the guys bc they are all whipped dummies

Very perceptive of your feelings, so never really worries about fighting with you or you hiding anything from him

You know how to get him to fess up so it's not the worst system of communication (still not healthy in the slightest but that’s the yandere life here)

He doesn't really try to lie to you or hide anything since you're also pretty bonkers so if he destroyed someone’s career bc he thought they looked at funny, you just roll your eyes and tell him he’s silly

You are the one that Jungkook and Taehyung are terrified of (It’s just about all the hyungline gf’s they are rlly scared of)

You’re usually so bubbly and energetic, but if you get pissed off, you’re as frightening if not more frightening than Yoongi

I should add Yoongi prefers to make up by marathon eating you out, at some point, it feels like he’s getting a kick out of it, but you’re in no place to complain tbh

Hoseok:

Not a lot of fighting here tbh bc you are still healing and your talent is in deescalating situations and telling people’s feeling

Your job is literally a behavior analyst so you will just deadass be like, “I can tell you’re getting frustrated to a point where effective communication won’t be possible, so how can I help calm you down?”

Makes him go silent real quick and reevaluate everything he has ever thought or done

For this reason, he just sighs and apologizes, genuinely bc you can absolutely tell when he’s just saying it to shut you up

He is the only one that will allow you to leave (the room, not the house) not that you want to leave the building considering the dangers you know are out there

Once you both cool off, you’ll have him state what he thought about and vice versa

You give advice to all the girls on how to do this, but not all of them are brave enough to try

So you go full mama bear mediator and step in when you feel the need

You genuinely frighten these guys bc you have this innate ability to make them feel dumb as fuck

Namjoon:

No fights rlly but misunderstandings happen that makes Joon go manic

You get frustrated bc he does this instead of just talking to you, but he’s learning little by little

The moment you aren’t smiling or trying to make a light joke with him, fight over, you won, he is worried

Bc he knows if you’re not smiling, you’re almost definitely going to cry and when you cry, he cries

You actually implement Angel’s tips and see some improvement with communication as time goes on

Namjoon’s love language in making up is grand gestures, so he’ll rent out a whole restaurant, or take you on a shopping spree to an art supply store, anything that will bring a smile to your face

You intimidate the other guys when they fight with their darlings bc you keep a smile the whole time you are threatening them and holy fuck is it eerie. You usually try to distract the upset girls post-argument with a craft or fun art facts

Jimin:

What makes the relationship work are your selfish tendencies working in tandem with his more sinister ones, but it can’t always work that way

You both test each other all the time despite agreeing on almost everything because the relationship is not a fight for dominance, but control-control you usually win 

The closest you get to real fighting is rough sex, most of the time you have disagreements that you resolve with conversation

It's the most “healthy” (it’s not all that healthy tbh) thing about the relationship and it blows everyone's minds, but it only happens bc Jimin has always respected you, and he genuinely knows that you don’t need him as much as he needs you

But on the extremely rare occasion there is a fight it is never in front of anyone and all hell breaks loose: screaming, yelling, slamming doors, it all seems like endless hell bc you both are too stubborn to say when you’re wrong

Until you cry

He really can't stand the sight of you crying, bc you rarely ever cry. He sees you as really tough and his whole perception of the world shatters once he realizes he’s the cause of your tears

Making up includes, you guessed it, sex. Like calling into work bc you can’t walk sex (Jimin cries during this sex bc he feels undeserving but by round 2 he stops)

The girls come to you post-argument to rant bc you live to talk shit with them to vent

Taehyung:

Rarely ever fights with you, because he absolutely despises doing so and you typically do what he says without question

But when you do fight, it always ends with both of you crying and hugging

During the argument though, he can say some seriously out of pocket shit, bc he lacks impulse control and you take that shit to hear bc who wouldn’t 

The fights are nightmarish and hard to watch bc at some point it just becomes Taehyung losing his mind while you cower until he realizes how much of an asshole he’s being or until you try to leave mid convo

Bless him if he were to ever make you cry in front of the other MC’s, my guy would be ripped to shreds bc the other girls do not fuck around

Hates to ever be the cause of your tears so you both are very quick to makeup and he can spend up to weeks making up for it

I’m talking gifts, money, food, dates, clothes, he is basically your personal assistant that pays you when he feels bad

The girl’s come to you after an argument for quiet time or some cute embroidery time

Jungkook:

You don't fight often, but when you do it's disastrous bc he is wildly paranoid and you are wildly insecure

You almost always go into a panic attack, fearing he'll leave you and he immediately loses all fight in him and feels like shit

And he is absolutely crushed seeing you hyperventilate or clutch your chest while he's yelling so he just stops like mid yell will just close his mouth and take a deep breath before going to you 

Immediately apologizes when it happens

Usually cries with you while he holds you

Another fella that will get torn to shreds by the other girls if they even catch a whiff of him being anything other than sunshine and rainbows to you rip jungkook tbh

He makes it up to you the same way Taehyung makes it up, by shutting his mouth and doing whatever you want, and giving you whatever you want

When the other girls get into an argument with their guy, they come to you for a hug and some quality time distraction

[babybottlepop96]

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story. 

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them. 

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-" 

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!" 

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings. 

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

[studiopoprocks]

Can you do fluff alphabet for Bakugou with a chubby s/o

Bakugo Katsuki Fluff Alphabet

I was a little confused on how I could add body type into the alphabet. So I tried my best to do your request, I hope it’s okay! @ash-the-lover

A - Affection (How do they show how much they care in their day to day lives)

Yes Kastsuki can be affectionate, big surprise. He’s pretty bad with words (unless written) so he tries his best to show how much he cares. He’ll always be right beside you despite how big the room may be, or even pat your head in public with a rare smile on his face. He’s trying his best, he just needs a little more practice.

B - Before (How did they act before the relationship/ what was the relationship like?)

He wasn’t the best with dealing with the fact he had a crush on you. He would yell at you more, but none of his words contained any venom. You kinda just stuck around him anyways. Even before you started dating, he was very VERY protective. Heaven forbit any ass hole degrade your amazing beautiful body, it was lucky recovery girl was there.

C - Comfort (How they act when their S/O is sad)

He instantly turns soft the moment he realized you’re upset. If it’s something another person did, he’ll offer to kill them, then proceed to explain why you’re so much better, and don’t need to even think about them. But if it’s insecurities, his heart breaks. He believes you are perfect, and even out of his league. He tries his best by pulling you into his chest, and saying ‘this heart beats for you stupid’ he’ll make sure to show you how much you mean to him more often.

D - Dawn (What are mornings like?)

This boy goes to be at 9pm, so you know he’s getting up at 4:30am. He’s actually very quite, almost never waking you up as he’s getting ready. On the off chance that he does, he’ll kiss your forehead and tell you to go back to sleep. Although you wake up alone, there is always a warm plate of breakfast on the kitchen table, and a good morning note from Bakugo

E - Embarrassed (How does their S/O make them flustered? How do they return the favour?)

Kiss him on the cheek and he’s out. Bakugo could be screaming, or in the middle of sparing and instantly freeze up if you somehow kiss him. Error Boyfriend has Stopped Working. He kinda just stands there as his face gets redder, then screams ‘OI What the hell was that for!’ But you know he secretly enjoys it, plus he’ll get you back by slapping your ass. Bakugo is a perv, what more can I say.

F - First date (Were did you go and what did you do for your first date together)

This boy did his research. You two would meet up at a nearby park, walking around a little bit before heading to a very expensive restaurant. He’d convince you to split a dessert with him, and you best believe he’s paying for the whole thing. Don’t even attempt, trust me it won’t be pretty. Afterwards you would go see a movie, at one of those expensive theatres that has an arcade inside. It may have taken him 27 tries, but he did get you that plushy you wanted from the claw machine before the movie started. And at the end of the night, he would give you a quick goodbye kiss as he dropped you off.

G - Gentle (How Gentle are they with their S/O? Or do they like to rough house with them?)

Bakugo will be rough. If your his girlfriend, one of the reasons he loves you is because you’re strong, otherwise you’d be too scared of him. It’s usually just rough language, swearing, screaming, just normal Katsuki. He also prefers to spar with you, and you better not expect him to hold back. If he does end up hurting you, he’ll give you one of his famous massages to make up for it.

H - Habit (What do they repeatally do in the relationship?)

His hands like to wander... he says he can’t help it, that you’re just too beautiful, but you know it has to do with him being a bit possessive. It’s not even pervertive most of the time. Often running his hands down your sides, or petting your hair. He won’t admit to doing it, but the playfulness tells a whole nother story.

I - Intreating (What do they find fascinating about their S/O? And vise versa?)

He’s astonished that you deal with him so well. The first time you were able to calm him down, played on repeat over and over in his mind. He doesn’t understand how! It kinda pissed him off because he felt weak, but now he goes to You whenever he needs to de stress.

J - Jealousy (How easily do they get jealous, and how do they deal with it)

He doesn’t want to get jealous, but it just comes with his personality. He feels kinda bad after he basically threatens to kill some guy hitting on you. Not for the fact that he planned on murdering the poor dude, but because he knows you can take care of yourself, and don’t need him butting in. He’s gotten a lot better after the first couple incidents, and often will just glare at the pervs while putting his arm around you.

K - Knick Knack (A random momento they still have from their S/O)

Just like Uraraka and Midoriya, you actually gave Bakugo his hero name ‘ground zero’. You had drawn a funny little doodle of your boyfriend in his hero costume, during class. Three thing were written: ‘Boom boom McSpolde man’ ‘Ground Zero’ and ‘love uwu’. He had taken it from you to look up, but never gave it back. He currently has it on the top of his nightstand, where it’s been since he got it.

L - Location (Favourite place to go on dates)

Arcade or amusement park. Honestly any adrenaline inducing thing he loves. He gets really competitive at the arcade, but will always try to win you something! (Even if it takes 14 tries). He doesn’t like how many people there are at the amusement parks, by he loves having you cling to him on rollercoserts. He will drag you on the scariest one, just so he can ‘protect’ you.

M - Movie (What cliché movie trope has actually happened in the relationship?)

That whole yelling in the rain then someone accidentally confesses, was how you two got together. You honestly didn’t know what was going on with him, and you two started arguing on your way back to the dorms after sparing. ‘All I want is for you to tell me what I did wrong Katsu!’ ‘You did nothing wrong!’ ‘Well something’s wrong!’ Fast forward a bit and he actually ends up saying ‘for some reason I fucking like you a lot!’ Arguing in the rain + confession = kisses!

N - Nickname (What do they call their S/O?)

What he calls his S/O:

‘My idiot’ a term of endearment kinda

‘Babe’ never used at school

‘Fucking perfection’ he’s trying

What you call him:

‘Baku-babe’ in response to him calling you babe

‘Jerk face’ another term of endearment trust me

‘My hero’ yes he almost cried when you first called him that

O - On Cloud Nine (How they act when they are in love/ Is it obvious to everyone around them?)

He’s only obviously about it when he’s actually with you. His full attention with be on you, and the anger in his face has melted away. He looks really civil and it kinda freaks people out when they first see it. Neither of you notice, but he’s always in a protective stance around you. It’s very obvious you’re dating the hot head.

P - PDA (Do they like showing off their s/o, or are a little shy to kiss in public)

It’s either full on makeout session, or no touching what so ever. At school he’s not very affectionate because he wants to focus on being a top hero, and he knows if he even thinks of you for too long, it’s going to distract him for the rest of the week. In the dorms though, almost anything goes. He doesn’t want to talk to someone? He’ll start cuddling up to you, blaintly ignoring them. Deku is pissing him off? Makeout session outside your door.

Q - Quirk (A random ability they have, that’s helpful in a relationship)

Even though he isn’t very good with words, Bakugo will never lie about what he’s saying. He’s so blunt that everything he says is genuine, and 110% his option. Maybe he doesn’t say it in the most classy way, but he means well. Having him be like this prevents insecurities, and trust issues.

R - Rearly (Something they love to do, but it doesn’t happen often)

He loves cloths shopping with you. Hear me out; his parents are fashion designers, so you best believe he’s going to have their skills when it comes to looking good. He loves to dress you up like his own personal manikin, he thinks you have the perfect body for any outfit, and can rock anything he decides to throw your way.

S - Special (Something that only them and their S/O do together)

Horror movie nights. He absolutely hates watching movies with the squad, usually because they talk so dam loud, and they have to pause the movie every 10 minutes! So he’ll only watch with you. He absolutely loves it when you get scared and cuddle into him. He feels like your his missing peice, and you both fot together like a puzzle. He’ll feel bad if you have a nightmare afterwards, but how can he be stop when every time you come to him for more cuddles!?

T - Together (How often do they spend time with their S/O?)

He never thought about having a relationship, so he’s really booked up with becoming a hero. Although you don’t spend much time together, you spend enough time in the same room. Most weeks it’s just lunch, and walking to the dorms together. It’s not a lot of time, but it makes you both cherish the time you do spend together.

U - United (In which way does the relationship become a whole? Marriage?)

Once you start working together, and get into a flow. It would happen close to when he would propose. You both just start to understand eachother, and work well together even in your day jobs. You can communicate without words, making you both successful in whatever you put your mind to. Bakugo may not be the number 1 hero, but you do hold the title of best hero couple.

V - Value (What do they treasure the most in their relationship?)

He treasures the quiet moments you share. He’s so go go go, and always working towards something, that when he gets a break alone with you, he wants to just sit and enjoy you being there. When it’s quite, he feels like he can detach from the world and just exist without expectations. He’d never have these quite moments until he met you, and he’s so so thankful for them, and you.

W - Wish (What do they hope will come from the relationship?)

Honestly he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he wants to be by your side no matter what. He has so many goals for himself, he doesn’t want to put any stress on you or your relationship. So he’s ready to go with whatever you want, because he’s content on just being with you, and being there for you.

X - XOXO (Favourite types of kisses and hugs)

After a long and stressful day so everyday, katsuki will just want to smother you into his chest and stay like that. Having you between his arms grounds him, and he won’t admit it but he loves the smell of your shampoo. He much prefers to do the kissing, just so it doesn’t catch him off guard. So he’ll usually just come up to you and start a full out makeout session to relive any negative energy he has.

Y - Yearning (How do they cope when they're missing their partner?)

Katsuki is a big baby. So if you’re not with him, you best believe he will snap at anyone in a 50ft radius of him. You always calm him down, so being without you puts him into demon overdrive. If you’re gone for a long time, he’ll end up pacing the house, glaring longingly at the spots you spend the most time in. The only thing that helps him get by is the adorable pictures he has of you as his phone screen.

Z - Zeal (Will they go great lengths for the sake of the relationship? What kind?)

Although he won’t turn villain for you, he will kill someone. We all know his threats are empty, but it something were to happen to you... whoever did it would be dead. If he wasn’t able to kill then for some reason, then he would make their life a living hell. He loves you, and no one will ever take that away from him.

[robinskey]

Don’t Touch My Family

Request: Would you be willing to make an imagine of dad!billy were after graduation u nd billy leave town bc u get pregnant w/out telling anybody but after a few years u have a son & daughter Neil finds out n come by the house hella pissed while billy isnt home, tries to hurt u nd the kids but billy comes home n just beats the hell out him for trying to hurt his family? just the thought of billy goin after the only person hes terrified of for HIS family makes him THE father he never had makes me melt ❤

A/N: This is a little bit darker than my typical fluffy sunshine fanfic, but I really liked the request, so I decided to do it anyway. :) Sorry if you wanted something shorter, anon-this turned into more of a drabble/one-shot than an imagine. Thanks for requesting!

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, descriptions of violence, implied abuse, language

You find out you’re pregnant halfway through the last semester of senior year. 

When you tell Billy, you expect him to freak out. He doesn’t, though-at least, not on the outside. On the inside, he’s absolutely panicking. But he can see how upset you are, so he just pulls you close. He whispers into your hair that he’ll support you in whatever you want to do.

After a few days of contemplation, decide you want to have the baby. You and Billy agree that it’s best to keep your pregnancy a secret-for now, at least. If your parents found out, your father would probably actually fire that shotgun he’s always threatening to use on “that deadbeat boyfriend of yours.”

And Billy...well, he has no idea how his father would react. But he has no intentions of finding out.

Thus, Billy offers to run away with you right there on the spot. However, you ultimately decide that it would be better to finish high school. Maybe you'll even be able to save up a little bit of money before the two of you start a new life together.

So, for the next few months, you wear baggy clothes to hide your growing midsection. Billy picks you up for “dates” that are actually doctor’s appointments. Thanks to your valiant efforts, no one suspects a thing.

Eventually, graduation rolls around. Your family hosts a small get-together after the ceremony. Distant relatives congratulate you on your achievements and ask if you’re excited to start this “new chapter in your life.” You smile and nod.

You have no idea.

Later that night, you stuff everything you can fit into a small tote bag. You leave an apology note to your parents on the kitchen counter and sneak out of your house.

Billy’s waiting for you outside in the Camaro. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead and holds the door open as you climb into the passenger seat. As he drives away, you watch your childhood home shrink into the distance, saying a silent goodbye to the only home you’ve ever known.

***

Five years later, you and Billy share a two-bedroom house on the West Coast. You have two kids-a son and a daughter. Billy works as a mechanic at an auto repair shop, while you write for the local newspaper. Neither of you make much money, but it doesn’t matter. You’re both happy-genuinely happy-for the first time in your lives.

Billy gets home around 5:30 every day, so, when the doorbell rings at 5:15, you figure he just got off early.

“I’m coming, honey!” you yell, bouncing your infant daughter on your hip.

But when you peek into the peephole, you discover not your husband standing on your doorstep but a scruffy older man in tattered clothing. His face is scrunched up, and he squints in the sun. You freeze, clutching your baby to your chest.

Neil Hargrove is standing on your porch.

“I know someone’s home. I heard you,” he barks. “Come on. Open up. I just want to talk.”

He raises a dirty fist and raps on the wood. The noise scares your daughter, who starts to whimper. You’re too busy shushing her to notice your son appear at your side.

“Mama, who’s that?”

You clamp a hand over his mouth and suck in your breath. Maybe, if you’re quiet enough, you can cancel out the noise made by your clueless four-year-old.

“Is that my grandson?”

For a split second, his volume dips below its typical scream-level. It’s the most gentle you’ve ever heard him speak.

But then he has to ruin it by pounding once more on the door.

“Come on, you coward, open the damn door!” He rattles the doorknob so violently that you think it might fall off.

This time, you can’t prevent your daughter from letting out a wail. Beside you, your son sniffles.

You muster every last fiber of courage in your being. “Get the hell out of here, Neil,” you growl, trying to sound as menacing as possible.

“Y/N? Is that you?” he asks. There’s a soft thud, almost like he’s just leaned his forehead against the wood.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought it was Billy in there,” Neil says.

“Billy-Billy is here,” you stutter.

“No, he’s not. I don’t see the Camaro anywhere, and I know my son takes that damn car everywhere,” Neil says.

Your son wraps his arms around your calf and clings to it. You hope he isn’t able to absorb the panic pulsing through every part of your body

“I’m warning you, Neil, to walk out of here while you still can. I…” 

You scan the messy living room, littered with toys. Your gaze falls on a plastic pistol laying on the sofa.

“I have a gun. And I’m not afraid to use it,” you threaten.

The wall between you slightly muffles his ominous chuckle, but it still reaches your ears.

“I’m sure you do, sweetie. But there’s no need to get violent on an old man who just wants to see his grandkids. Why don’t you just open the door, Y/N?”

“Why don’t you just go to hell, Neil?” 

The silence drags on long enough for you to almost convince yourself that he’s walked away.

Almost.

And then, just loud enough for it to be audible: “If that’s how you want to play it.”

You jump out of the way as the door falls inward with a thud.

Neil Hargrove slowly lowers the foot he used to kick it down, glaring at you with bloodshot eyes.

You push your son behind you, wrap your arms tighter around your daughter, and take cautious steps backwards.

“Did you really think you could hide from me forever?” he asks. He advances deeper into your home-your sanctuary-with every word.

“What do you want from me?” you demand. Your backside collides with a wall; Neil’s backed you into a corner.

“I just want what you and my son stole from me by skipping town five years ago,” Neil says. “A chance to connect with my family.”

He draws close enough that you can count every crater left by untreated acne on his creased face and smell the stale whiskey on his breath. “I knew you had one child,” he says, peeking around you at the little boy cowering in the corner, “but two? What a pleasant surprise. This little one-let me see her face.”

Neil extends a wrinkled hand to peel back the blanket covering the baby. You’re too stunned to react until his filthy finger is only inches from her face. That’s when you raise a knee and jam it into his groin. He doubles over with a grunt.

“Go!” You practically shove your son into his room and set the baby next to him. Then, a hand wraps around your ponytail, yanking you backwards. Tears stream down your face as you scream at your kids to shut the door and lock it. There’s a slam and a click, then the word “bitch” yelled into your ear. Neil spits into your ear canal as he calls you every name in the book. You claw and kick and punch, but Neil’s got a death grip on your hair. He drags you across the living room floor, promising that he’s “going to make you pay.” He finally tosses you onto the couch. Your back aches as the barrel of the fake gun juts into your spinal cord.

Between your shrieks and Neil’s name-calling, you don’t hear the roar of the engine as the Camaro pulls onto your street, nor the squeal of the brakes as Billy pulls up next to the beat-up pick-up truck he’d recognize anywhere. You don’t hear your husband’s thundering footsteps as he sprints up the sidewalk. No, you don’t notice any of that; you’re too preoccupied flailing around as Neil tries to pin you to the sofa. 

But even though you don’t see him, Billy appears in the doorway, still wearing his navy mechanic jumpsuit. He’s covered in grease stains and flushed skin. And, for the first time in his life, he raises his voice at his father without an inkling of fear of the consequences.

“Get your hands off my wife!”

He charges at his father, who’s caught completely off-guard. The two of them crash onto the coffee table, snapping it in two. They only wrestle for a minute before Billy comes out on top. He raises his fist and brings it down on his father’s face until it’s nothing more than a bloody pulp. Billy continues landing blows long after Neil passes out. And, while Neil Hargrove certainly deserves it, you’d rather not have Billy kill someone in your house with your kids in the literal next room. So, eventually, you walk up to your scratched-up, bruised husband and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Baby,” you say softly. 

He gazes up at you, the pain and torment of eighteen years of abuse bubbling to the surface once again. Once his eyes meet yours, they immediately soften. He raises himself to his feet and pulls you into a tight embrace. He squeezes you so tightly that you wince, sore from Neil throwing you around like a ragdoll. Billy apologizes profusely and holds you out at arm’s length. His eyes flicker over your features.

“Are you all right?”

“No,” you say honestly. Your hands are shaking profusely, your heart rate is still elevated well above normal levels, and you’re pretty sure you’ll have nightmares about this encounter for the rest of your life. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“A little. But it could have been so much worse, if you hadn’t…” 

A single tear trails down your cheek. Billy wipes it away with his thumb.

“You don’t have to go there, Y/N. Don’t go there,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Your eyelids flutter shut. “You’re right. We’re safe now-me, the kids-”

“The kids!” you both exclaim at the same time. You run to their bedroom and knock on the door. It swings open, and two small children stare up at you. They both burst into tears, and you and Billy gather them into your arms.

The police arrive a few minutes later, just as Neil starts to regain consciousness. (Having nosy neighbors pays off when you need someone to call 9-1-1 without being asked.) As the officers escort Neil out of the house in handcuffs, Billy warns him to never come near his family again.

And for the first time in his life, his father actually listens.

Taglist: @novaddictx @anabundance0ffand0ms @rexorangecouny  @sweetboibilly @scarrasco1325  @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

[tenpin-boleyn]

Rebellious Parr at School!

These were thought up by @wolfies-chew-toy and I- mostly MB- because Cathy going through teenage rebellion is I C O N I C

There are some teenage Anne in here too but mostly our girl Cathy P 🖤

Also I’m sorry about the length- I’m on mobile so I can’t add a read more :)

•Anne got her heelys confiscated, so she decided to sandpaper the bottom of her shoes so she can slide around like a penguin. No wheels? No problem.

•Catherine being the feminist icon that all teachers fear:

“NO I AM NOT READING ROMEO AND JULIET AS ITS A DEROGATORY REPRESENTATION OF WOMEN AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH”

Then Catherine promptly gets removed from the class.

“Catherine don’t you have English right now?”

“Don’t you have your funeral!!.... oh my god Mrs lynn I’m so sorry” because Cathy is a badass but she still has feelings

•Confusing the teachers on a daily basis:

"Hitler is kinda like Kim Jong Un dont you think?"

"Miss Parr and Miss Seymour what are you talking about?"

"Miss, isn't Kim Jong Un rather like Hitler?"

"Please stop discussing your Kpop idols in my class."

•The school has different colors led name tags for the different years, eg. Seventh year, yellow, eighth year green etc.

You can bet your ass Parr has a name tag in each colour and wears them all at once. It ranges from her actual name to Catradora. She has a name tag that just says CatParr420 and wears it everywhere.

And 90% of the time she wears a blank one and carries around a marker

“Umm excuse me what’s your name?”

Which prompts Cathy to draw on a fake name.

“Anita Willtolive”!

•She draws penises on all the whiteboards of every class she enters in permanent marker.

•One time the school used a drone to film the morning assembly and the noise annoyed Cathy so much she picked her book from morning reading up and h u r l e d it at the drone.

All you can hear before the recording stops is “YEET”

Did she get detention? Yes

Was it worth it? HELL YES

•You can bet your bottom dollar that Anne is in that detention too.

Anne's reasons for detention range from stuff like chatting to general shenaniganery but Cathy is just oPEN DEFIANCE

•She only is nice to her classmates

•And selected teachers

•She's a dick to everyone else

•But if she sees a kid on their own she’ll go out of her way to be lovely to them and to that one annoying teacher she hates, she’s a hell raiser

•She once moved the empty table next to her desk away to the other end of the class to stop teachers from sitting next to her- whilst the teacher was trying to sit at said desk.

•Catherine openly questioning EVERYTHING

“But if everyone is only nice to get into heaven surely that defeats the purpose and they’re being fake”

•She would fall asleep in front of the teacher

She'd just yell goodnight really loudly and knock out on her desk

•Honestly it’s a wonder she hasn’t been kicked out, but Jane thinks it’s because her grades bring up the school average

•She does her homework the moment she gets it and is finished by the end of the day

•Anne just puts in her file and lets it rot

•Parr gets in trouble for handing in Anne’s homework that Parr did but Anne has no idea. Cathy just wanted to make sure she didn’t fail

•Anne teaches Parr how to get discounts in the cafeteria, because Parr needs free cookies.

•Parr is Anne's defender when it comes to detentions

•She gives the teacher her Stare™️ and they instantly clam up

•Their detention desks are side by side and they have like those partners in crime necklaces but instead of two halves on their necklaces they’re carved into the tables

They they put them together they just line up

“Parr scares all the teachers except the German teacher who is literally Satan.

•Anne looks scary but she is basically harmless

•Parr looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly but given the chance she would 100% bite her teacher's hand off

•Anne has like five piercings and the messiest uniform in existence while Parr has only one piercing in each ear and the neatest uniform in existence but the moment Parr opens her mouth you better run

•She once bit a first year because they got in her way

•Cross any of Parr's friends or Parr herself and you might as well drop out because you'll be on a hit list for your whole education career

•She’s got a little black book of people that’s annoyed her because eventually she forgets but she’s too petty to let her memory get the better of her

•Anne has been on it at least once but Parr always strikes her name out

•She once kicked Parr in the stomach trying to show off her sandpapered shoes

•The shoe flew off and hit Parr in the stomach

She would have screamed at Anne but Anne’s puppy dog eyes are irresistible

Especially at 12 years old because she’s literally a baby

Like not even in a sexual way, you just can’t say no to those eyes

•Seymour has also been on the list once

But Parr got her revenge

What did Seymour do? She keeps taking Parrs highlighters

So Parr makes her pay money for every time she uses her highlighters

And one day a teacher sees and thinks it’s a drug deal

Every late payment is + 1 quid

Jane knows better than to accumulate late payments because Parr is ruthless when it comes to money

•When a classmate lost Parrs calculator and didn't pay her back, Parr literally carved owe money pay money onto her desk and got that person's friends to remind them daily till they paid her back

•Every time that person saw Parr in the hallways they'd turn around and head the other direction

•Tardies don't matter when the most trigger-happy person in school is out for your blood

•The day that she’s sat next to Parr in the seating plan is the day she moves schools

•Even then Parr still tracks her down

•She waits for them at the school gate with the most murderous smile on her face

•You just see Anne behind her chewing gum, snapping her fingers and doing jazz hands

•And the person is rapidly dialing their parents while screaming MOM COME PICK ME UP I'M SCARED

•Suddenly Aragon pulls up with the others and shouts at the pair “get in losers we’re going shopping”

"How the hell did you even find them Cathy?"

"I just followed the smell of crippling debt and it led me here."

“No seriously how?”

“Anne never turns her snapmaps off”

•Also Parr made the PE teacher cry more than once. More than twice. Okay it was 27 times.

•Parr has a pen knife and people try to confiscate it but she just brings out a printed sheet of paper that says that “a knife may be carried as a self defence weapon if it is under 9 inches and is retractable”

•She made the history teacher quit.

•One time she threatened to give someone salmonella because they were giving Anne and Kat a hard time

•Both Anne and Kat are in special ed and someone thought it'd be funny to bully them cuz of it

•She was skipping class in the toilets and two girls walk in and start bad mouthing Anne and Kitty so she kicks open her door and looks at them whilst sucking a lolly pop “hello bitches say goodbye to ur eyebrows”

•Parr is super defensive of the two of them

•She teases them sure but if anyone else tries, they have to sleep with one eye open

•Anne and Kat don't understand why people keep coming up and apologizing to them

•When they ask Parr, she just shrugs and smiles

•Parr used to be super motivated back in year seven. When year eleven rolled around, she became a little more rebellious, first the name tags, then the mouthing off. Then it escalated further and further. No one else but Parr and Anne knows what happened to cause this change

•Parr is soft for Anne and Kat and Anne and Kat alone

•She roughs up Aragon, Seymour and Cleves bc she knows they can take it. She's soft when she needs to be and not many people see that side of her

•Her favourite teachers rarely see that side either. Only during teacher's day when she sneaks into the staffroom to give them homemade cookies

•Parr wears leather jackets to class and no one dares question her.

•Anne learnt Chinese and how to play the guitar during detention so that she could sing for Parr the next time they had a session together

•Anne singing Unchained Melody exactly like in ghost the musical, and does the little elvis riff too

•Parr and Anne facetime and do Kahoots together because they need to study aka theyre competitive as shit

•Cathy gets excited in class and stands on her chair and yells "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK. U COMING TO KILL ME???" And promptly gets removed from the class.

•Parr gets a "Little Miss Adventurous" award for having the most travelled converstation.

BONUS:

•The queens doing that egg project where they have to bring an egg home and keep it for a week

•Anne calls hers Eggward Eggburt.

•Aragon drops it the moment she gets it

•Anne brings the egg home and makes it into an omelette

•Jane does well till the sixth day where she goes fuck it and uses it to bake cookies.

•Cleves breaks it during lunch after Anne called her a name and she threw it at her

•Kat gives hers to Jane and it's baked into chocolate chip cookies

•Parr shuts hers in the fridge for a week and takes it out at the end of the week

•Anne gets asked where her egg is and she pats her stomach which results in Kitty yelling “YOURE PREGNANT?!”

•Jane gets asked where her egg is and she holds up this cookie jar and offers the teacher one

•Parr is praised for being the only one in class for having an intact egg and then she grabs the egg and breaks it on the teacher's head cuz she 'needed to shut up'

[killjoy-loveit]

Solar World- Part Two

A/N: I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. Also, this is a story I had started writing but completely forgot about and thought I could convert it to fanfic so that I might actually finish it, lol :) This series has an unknown finish date, as I’m still trying to set up the layout of the series. I’m going to try doing something different, I’ll be including links to the other parts in the notes by a reblog (to access the links I think you might need to click on the reblog itself)

Summary: Sunni and her team have learned Valis Havens did not hold the last of humanity as they thought.

Word Count: 2,170

Genre: Post-Apocalyptic AU

Introduction | Part One | Part Two

    Sunlight twists through the branches of trees towering above- at maybe a hundred feet, if I had to guess. The plant life in the area surrounding the hatch seems healthy upon a brief glance, the vibrant foliage leading me to this assumption. It’s so much more beautiful than I imagined, or than anything we have in Valis Haven to give us an idea of what the surface looked like. Nothing could properly give it justice in a mere reproduction, not when it looks like this. I’m even a little short of breath just taking everything in, not because the air is bad but rather my excitement is making it difficult for me to take a deep breath.

      It appears as if the hatch opened up in the middle of a forest, one that wasn’t present three hundred and fifty years ago. As my team climb out of the clean room through the hatch one by one, I have a tough time trying to focus on the questions they’re asking. But it’s apparent I’m not the only one enamored with the environment around us. A breeze rustles the leaves resulting in everyone jumping slightly. Reminding us that while this is an exciting experience, we must be cautious and not let our guard down.

     “Sunni, it’s… It’s beautiful.” Jae murmured beside me.

     His words break me free from the trance I’d been in, and I nod in response. “Yes, it most definitely is beautiful... We can’t just stand around here though, we need to look for a place to set up camp.”

     “Sure thing, Sunni. Just lead the way.” Gil replies giddily, his feet bouncing with energy.

     I step off the platform that leads to the hatch after sliding it closed. Twigs snap under my feet as I move forward, determining which direction we should go. Based off the fact that a forest wasn’t present before, I’m going to assume that the maps I studied are inaccurate and useless now. Our camp should be near a water source, and if we can find animal tracks they could lead us to the closest body of water.

      “Look for animal tracks, shout if you find anything.” I say calmly, wandering farther from the group.

     At this we split up, some going in pairs or solo, like myself. I walked to the left of the hatch, going past a few trees to look for tracks. As I searched the ground something in the dirt seemed odd, I crouched to get a better look at it. It was a track, that much I was aware of, but it was unlike any animal I’ve studied. Instead, as I moved leaves to the side to analyze it, the track appeared human. But that can’t be, nobody could have survived those disasters. Could they? I mean, is it possible that somehow people managed to survive and their descendants have been roaming the surface while we’ve been stuck underground?

     Shooting to my feet from my crouched position, I move to yell out for the team but a movement in the corner of my eye makes me freeze. It was fleeting, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to bring me pause. Breath frozen in my lungs, I turn my head to where I saw the movement. I scan the trees carefully, and to my disappointment or relief I’m not sure, nothing’s there. Shaking my head to rid myself of intrusive thoughts screaming that I’m not alone, rather, we’re not alone.

      These thoughts are proved correct though as a body presses into me from behind, an arm wrapping around my waist to restrain me and a hand moving to cover my mouth. Even knowing it won’t be of much use I try to scream, and as expected the sound is muffled by my assailant’s hand. Twisting and yanking my body in a futile attempt to free myself only results in being held tighter, the arm constricting painfully around my waist. Hot tears start to build in my eyes, threatening to burn their way down my cheeks. I’ve only just made it to the surface and now I’m probably going to be killed by someone we had no clue existed.

     Words were spoken into my ear by a low voice in a language I didn’t recognize and the hand was removed from my mouth. A minute passed in silence as the person waited, I assumed it was a male at this point based off the voice. Maybe he was waiting for me to respond. I chew at my lip trying to determine if it’d matter if I told him that I didn’t understand him if he couldn’t understand me either. Screw it, it’s worth a shot.

     “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” I whisper softly.

     A huff of breath hits my neck, sending chills down my spine. “Do you understand me now?” My eyes go wide at his words and I nod frantically. “Good. Where did you come from? Why are you here? What are your plans?”

     “U-Um, well, I’m from Valis Havens. I’ve been sent up here with a small team to solve a problem. The plan is to find the problem and a solution.”

      “What is Valis Havens?”

     “It’s an underground facility that houses what we thought was the last of humanity.”

     “You said you have a team? All of you are unknown threats on our land, I have to take you to the Superior.”

     “Superior? Will-will we be killed?” I stutter out, heart pounding.

     “Only if you’re deemed a threat.”

     Surely that shouldn’t have comforted me, but for some peculiar reason it did. While, yes, there were those on my team that could pose significant threat for the people that lived here, none of them would do anything unless I gave the go ahead. I wasn’t about to give permission to go to war with people we had no clue existed until now.

      “Call your people here.” He demanded.

     “Are you sure?” I question. “If I call them here with you holding me hostage, they won’t listen first, they’ll attack. I promise I won’t try to escape, it’s no use when I know nothing about the terrain.”

     “Fine.”

      With that single word the arms holding me in place released me. Before calling out to my team, I figured I deserved to see the face of the man that had been holding me as leverage. What I saw was not what I was expecting. Although, I’m not really sure what I was expecting, just that this was not it. The man standing before me is handsome, with a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and rounded lips. His tanned skin shone in the sunlight, and his dark almond shaped eyes held a dimmed fire within them.

      “Call them, now.” He ordered, eyes narrowing.

     I pause a second longer to regain my composure. “Guys! I need you to come over here.”

     In the following minute countless shouts ring out into the air, confirming they’re moving my way, joined by sounds of leaves crunching underfoot. Gil and Nia appear first, followed shortly by Bo and Bren, next comes Jae and Vera, then finally Ves shows up. As each group finds me, they pause in place upon seeing the man standing beside me. Bo’s mouth keeps opening and closing, giving him the appearance of a dumbfounded fish. Ves is the only one to speak up amidst the dead silence surrounding my team.

     “There were survivors. Interesting.” She murmurs, a calculating look taking form on her face.

     “Yes, and apparently we’re on their territory.” I sigh lightly, glancing at the man beside me. “Now we have to go with him to meet his Superior.”

     “Sunni…” Vera draws my name out, her tone showing that she’s uncomfortable with the situation.

     I grit my teeth. “We don’t have another option, either we go with him or we start a war. I would prefer not to go to war.”

     With these words, any protests that my team had been forming died on their lips. It was evident in their eyes, how they widened in realization and fear, that initiating a war was to be avoided at all costs. None of us had ever lived through anything similar to that, the only wars we knew of were in history books. Each war in those books was devastating, with body counts higher than our population, it was difficult to imagine being okay with such loss.

      “We must move out now, so that we aren’t out when the sun sets.” The man beside me spoke up.

     A quick head count and we were on our way, following the mysterious guy through the forest. He never really spoke, except for telling us to avoid certain plants. One plant in question being a deep purple, almost black color, with large heart shaped leaves harboring small spikes that contained a deadly poison. If I’m being honest, I truly wanted to take a sample of one and examine it, potentially run a few tests. Maybe if I could figure out it’s genetic makeup, an antidote could be made for the poison, if one already hasn’t been developed that is.

     Though it wasn’t just the plant life I was curious of. I mean, how could anybody possibly survive the massive solar flares and tsunamis that happened three hundred and fifty years ago? There’s the potential that maybe if they had a bunker people could survive for a few years before facing the surface again. Except I don’t understand how the radiation wouldn’t have killed them upon surfacing, it certainly should have been deadly at that point. Everything I’ve been taught goes to say that nobody should have been able to survive. Thus, it’s mystifying to find out that people somehow managed to make it through the calamity.

     Surely the Earth would have been a mixture of scorched grounds and raised sea levels, which makes it even harder for my brain to comprehend. Quite honestly I would love to learn of their history, what they’ve been taught and how they’ve progressed. Has their society regressed in terms of development? Or has it gone beyond any expectations we may have down in Valis Havens? While I have one member of the society leading us, he is remaining quiet and elusive regarding sharing any information. I do know one thing, they must speak multiple languages, seeing as how he didn’t speak English to me at first. Scratch that, make it two things, because I am certain that the language he spoke first is new or a derivative at the least.

      Granted, I am not well versed in linguistics, I only ever managed to learn two other languages fluently. Though I do know basics of a few others, most of which were spread out regionally. Ves and Nia are the best with languages in the team, both speaking upwards of five different languages, not including English. One of them could potentially identify the origins of the language he spoke, if it was a derivative that is. It wouldn’t be surprising if Ves was the one who could identify it, seeing as she is a bit of a wild card.

      See, there’s no telling what Ves knows. She’s the type that values secrecy and never shows the world anything but a face of stone. If I’m honest, Ves scares me just a little bit. Not because I feel that she would ever go against the team or harm us, but mainly for the sole fact that you can never guess where her thoughts are. And since she rarely talks, everyone goes quiet when she does.

      Everyone else on the team is a bit easier, well, a lot easier, to read in comparison to Ves. Gil’s emotions are always plain as day on his face, he’s probably most like Ves’ polar opposite in that regard. Most of the others tend to have control over their expressions and body language, though there are times when they have an extreme reaction to something and that control slips.

      Sometimes I get so lost in thought that I lose track of my surroundings, this was one of those times. I slammed right into the back of the guy- I really should learn his name- that was leading us as a result. Yeah, I’m quite aware that I should’ve been paying attention so that incidents, such as this, wouldn’t occur. Well, it’s too late to remedy the situation. He turns slowly to face me, a blank look on his face. All I manage to do is smile sheepishly and whisper a quick apology.

     He shakes head lightly, a small smile appearing briefly. “We have arrived. Stay quiet and try not to attract too much attention. There’s no telling how the others will react, so it’s important to get you to the Superior as quickly as possible.”

     I stop him as he turns back to lead us further. “Wait, what’s your name?”

     “Minho.” And with that he turned on his heel and continued forth.

     At least now I know his name.

[pocket-luv101]

13 kuromahi and 14 lawlicht (pls can hyde comfort licht i'm begging u) if it's possible!! Thank you very much ;;;;;;

LawLicht {14: “Hey, I’m with you, okay?”}

anon, I do plan to write your other reqs but I have other fanfics that I scheduled first. I’ll link it [here] when I finished #13 with KuroMahi.

His phone’s persistent ringingforced Licht to wake up. It was a little past midnight and he was tempted toyell at whoever was calling him so late. He climbed over Hyde’s sleeping bodyto reach his phone sitting on the table. The bed sifted and woke Hyde next tohim. Hyde groaned and tried to pull him back against his side. “Who’s callingthis late? Cuddle me back to sleep, Lichtan.”

Licht rolled his eyes when Hydecontinued to whine. Sometimes, he wondered why he fell in love with someone soclingy and childish. He allowed him to hug his waist as he answered the callthough. “It’s my mom. Keep quiet while I talk to her. Hello? Mom, did youforget that I’m six hours ahead— You’re crying. Did something happen? Mom,you’re talking too fast!”

Hyde felt Licht become tense and satup. His hands were shaking and his phone fell onto the bed between them. Hedidn’t know what they were discussing but he instinctively went to comfortLicht. He started to hug him but he pushed him away. Without a word, Licht flewoff the bed and ran out of their hotel room. He didn’t care about causing adisturbance as he banged on Kranz’s door.

“Kranz, wake up! You need to book mea ticket to France right now. I don’t care how much it costs, just get me theearliest and quickest flight there is!” Licht screamed through the door. Thecommotion woke Kranz quickly enough that he opened the door after only aminute. It still felt like forever to Licht. He rushed to explain the situationto him. “My father’s concert… There was a fire. I need to go see him!”

While Kranz was his manager, theywere more like brothers. He could see how scared and shaken Licht was. Hequickly reassured him, “I’ll call the airports and see what the earliest flightthey have is.”

“I’ll go change. I should be readyin ten minutes— no five.” Licht returned to his room and he turned to dash backto his room but he crashed into Hyde’s hard chest. For a moment, he wantednothing more than to stay in his arms and let him comfort him. Yet he shovedhim away and rushed into their room. He slammed the door behind him. Hyde wasleft confused and he didn’t know what happened. It was rare for Licht to panic.It was rarer for Licht to accept help from others.

Throughout the trip to the airportand the plane ride, Hyde tried to comfort Licht but he would push him away. Therejection stung but it was obvious Licht needed to work through his emotions.He sat next to him and waited for him to be comfortable enough to be vulnerablewith him. They were in a relationship but it was more often that Lichtreassured Hyde rather than the reverse.

Hyde felt useless and hated that hecouldn’t help Licht like he had down for him countless times.

Kranz had already prepared a taxifor them when they landed in France. In his haste, Licht almost left withoutHyde. He transformed into a hedgehog and clung to his shoulder so he wouldn’tbe left behind. Licht would occasionally rub his hedgehog’s head and Hydeleaned into his finger. It was something Licht did without thinking because hewas distracted by his worry.

They reached the hospital and Lichtwent to the front desk. Hyde quickly hid inside his backpack so Licht wouldn’tbe trouble for bringing in an animal. He was able to head Licht say: “What roomis Jekylland Todoroki staying in? I’m his son.”

The nurse nodded and led Licht downthe hall. He spotted his mother at the end and raced past the nurse to him.There were tears in her eyes and Licht knew he was close to crying himself. Hewas able to stop himself from doing so when his mother hugged him. Licht couldbarely understand her through her tears.

“It’s okay, Mom. Your angel is here.Dad’s an angel too so he’ll be fine. Did you talk to the doctor yet?” She shookher head. Licht pointed to a chair and said, “You should sit down and wait herewith Kranz. I’ll talk to the doctor for you. I’m sure he’ll say that dad ismerely resting.”

His voice was even and calm now incontrast to how frantic he was the entire trip to the hospital. The change wasalmost instantaneously and Hyde had to question it. He could hear Lichtspeaking with the doctor. There had been a fire at his father’s recital.Licht’s dad ran back into the fire to help others. As a result, he had a lot ofsmoke inhalation and minor burns.

“Is he awake right now? Can I seehim?” Licht’s voice shook. The doctor led him through the door with the warningthat his father was still weak and he wouldn’t be able to talk much. At themoment, the only thing he wanted was to see his father. He followed the doctorinto the hospital room and his heart sank when he saw his dad. There were wiresattached to him and it didn’t seem like he was awake.

Licht sat next to the hospital bed.He touched his father’s hand and he was relieved that his fingers weren’tdamaged. His family was full of musicians and their hands were their mostvaluable tools. His own hands were shaking. He bit his lip, uncertain aboutwhat he should say first. “… Dad.”

“Licht?” His voice was hoarse. Hisfingers twitched against his palm and that reassured him more than anything.“Don’t cry. I raised you to be strong and strong boys don’t cry. Right now, I’mtired so I want to sleep a little more. I’m sure your mom is outside right now.Make sure you take care of her.”

“But you’re going to take care ofher when you get better, right?” His father nodded and Licht sighed in relief.He looked much more confident as he stood to leave the room. Every few steps,he would stop and look back so Hyde knew that he wanted to stay with hisfather. Yet, he forced himself to walk out of the room.

He stopped in front of his mother.“I’ll go to the cafeteria and get you some tea, Mom. That should help you calmdown.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Licht. Idon’t know what I would do without my angel. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said back toher before he went to the cafeteria.

Licht felt Hyde poke his backthrough his backpack and it quickly irritated him. He took off his backpack andthrew his hedgehog out of his bag. The glare he gave Hyde as he returned to hishuman form. “What the hell, Shit Rat? I don’t need you poking me right now!Can’t you—”

Hyde hugged Licht and held him tightagainst his chest. His hand in his hair stopped him from shouting at him likehe would usually. Licht’s emotions felt tightly strung and threatened to breakthe moment he paused long enough to think of them. Between his pride and howwarm Hyde was, he didn’t know what he should do.

“I need to get my mom tea.” Heburied his face in his chest and he didn’t want to leave his arms even as hewhispered the words. He lifted his hands and clutched Hyde’s shirt in hisfingers. “I need to be a strong angel for my parents. I can’t cry when theyleave. If I worry them, they won’t be able to play as well as they do. But… Idon’t want to be left alone.”

He had very few friends when he wasa child so his family was everything to him. Licht was lonely whenever hisparents left to go on their tours. He would stay with his grandparents inAustria but they were elderly and couldn’t keep up with an energetic child likeLicht was. He often had to entertain himself as a child and quickly becameindependent.

“Even strong angels cry, Licht. It’sokay to rely on your boyfriend. I won’t let you feel alone again. I love you.”Those three words he whispered into his hair made Licht’s knees weak. Hyderubbed his back when he felt him tremble in his arms. He didn’t sob loudly intohis chest but small tears burned his shoulder. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Ipromise I’ll do everything I can to help your father.”

“If you turn my father from an angelto a demon, I’m going to break up with you.” He wiped his eyes with his scarf.Hyde didn’t mind and his hands moved to cup his face.

“I would never do anything likethat. I have a few subclasses who are brilliant doctors. They might be able tohelp your father.” He offered his help and Licht became less tense in his arms.He was surprised by Licht’s next words.

“There you go making me fall in lovewith you again.” Hyde was able to make him smile through both his comfortingwords and his light banter. Yes, sometimes, he was clingy and childish at timesbut how tender he was overshadowed those things. Licht was reminded that hecould rely on Hyde.

I do think Licht is close with his parents even though they went on tours often.

[DrabbleRequest]

[iamvegorott]

Emotions

I had this sudden idea for a story when I was writing Attention with how I wrote Dark's personification of his emotions. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Annoyance. Frustration. Anger. Emotions that Dark understands and can easily work with, but when he starts to learn about the other ones he has, things being to change. 

Emotions

Dark adjusted his tie in the hallway’s full-length mirror. He felt nothing as he did so, he was just on auto-pilot. Dark was used to not feeling anything. That’s who he was. He was a demon. A creature from another dimension with the sole purpose of destroying the ones who have caused him harm, who have put him in this form in the first place. He had no time to deal with emotions. He had work to do.

After straightening his jacket he held his hands behind his back and left the hallway, heading to the kitchen since it was the connection between where he was and the library. He stopped when he saw the Jims on the kitchen floor. The reporter was messing with an Ouija board while the cameraman looked very scared and uncomfortable.

“Demons, Jim!” The reporter shouted as he flailed his body into the air. Dark felt something press into the back of his head as the two stared at him before taking off, leaving the Ouija board behind with salt all over the ground as well. The pressure was still there as he cleaned up the twins’ mess. It was a feeling he was used to with the people he lived with.

Annoyance.

“Hey, Dark! How’s my demon?” Wilford greeted loudly as he slapped at Dark’s back, seeing that the man had his sleeves rolled up as he washed the salt off of his hands.

“We need to inform the Jims, once again, that salt will not make the demon go away. It only annoys him to a severe degree.” Dark growled as he turned off the sink. He nodded thanks as Wilford handed him a towel.

“You know it’s not you that they’re trying to make leave, it’s the ‘ghost’ of the house.” Wilford chuckled, laughing a little more when Dark tossed the towel at him.

“You really need to stop with your pranks on them. It’s a nuisance to everyone in the house.” Dark stated, returning his sleeves back to their proper place.

“I just wanna have some fun with the chums.” Wilford leaned close to Dark and flashed a smile that made the demon feel a little warmth in his stomach. Dark never understood what that feeling was or what to assign the emotion with, he always assumed it was just nothing and he easily ignored the warmth before putting his hand on Wilford’s face and pushing him away.

“You can have fun without causing the Jims to constantly panic,” Dark said as he walked out of the room, the warmth returning a little when he head Wilford’s light-hearted laugh.

Dark sat in the library, casually reading a mystery novel he ended picking up by mistake when he was searching for another. He found himself pulled into the fictional world and was reading a very climactic part when there was a loud ‘thud’ above him as if something was dropped. Dark looked up, sighed and returned to his reading, starting the page over so he could get back into the scene properly. He was about to learn who the killer was when there was another loud ‘thud’. This time Dark lowered the book and glared at the ceiling for a good while before going back to the book again, once again having to start over because he couldn’t just read the killer’s name without the build-up, it ruined the fun. Dark had started learning the killer’s motive when a long string of ‘thuds’ cut him off for the third time. Dark slammed the book shut and stormed out of the library and towards the stairs. There was a tight pinching in his stomach and head as he took the steps two at a time. This was an emotion he also knew very well.

Frustration.

“What are you do-” Dark threw open the door to the room and stopped his yelling when he saw what was causing the sounds. Bim Trimmer was standing on his bed, wearing his white shirt, blazer, and tie, but missing the slacks that went the ensemble, showing off his white and red spotted boxers. The show host was holding a cardboard tube and the stuffed animals lying all around the room told Dark all that he needed to know.

“I-”

“Nope.” Dark didn’t give Bim even a second to explain himself before he shut the door, turning away from it. He could feel his face burning up a little, along with his chest and stomach. This was something he rarely felt.

Embarrassment.

Dark wasn’t embarrassed himself, he felt embarrassment for Bim. He knew how awkward that had to be for the other man. Dark shook his head and headed back to the library. Why was he feeling embarrassed for Bim? Why was he wasting energy on feeling something for someone? He barely allowed himself to have emotions on his own, why have it for others? Wilford referred to it as ‘sympathy’ and Dark stated that it was a ‘waste of time’. Sympathy, empathy, who cares? No one cared for him, he shouldn’t care for others. It was as simple as that.

“Dark! Dark!” Dark turned his head and saw that the Jims were running towards him.

“Don’t you have some news to report or something?” Dark sighed, feeling annoyance come back and taking over what remained of the second-hand embarrassment.

“Wilford left!” Reporter Jim yelled.

“Wilford can leave when he wishes.”

“He took his shooty!”

“He takes his gun everywhere.”

“He was mad!” That statement made Dark stiffen. He knew what it meant when Wilford left angry. Either someone was going to die or someone was going to come very close to it and Wilford had no grasp on the concept of death, he needed someone else there to clean up the mess and make sure he didn’t go insane or at least more insane than what he already was. “You told us to report to you when that happens, right?” Jim’s question was ignored as Dark felt out of his body, slowly stretching further and further away until he found Wilford’s aurora. The strong scent of bubblegum and gunpowder filled his nose before Dark suddenly vanished.

“Hey, buddy. There’s no need to get violent...yet.” Dark heard Wilford chuckle. He found himself at the edge of an empty warehouse.

“How the fuck did you get in here!?” A man screamed.

“Just give me my-”

“Don’t take another step!” Dark turned around and saw that a group of men was standing in front of Wilford, the one in front holding a gun towards Wilford. Pointing his gun at him. Dark didn’t have time to question how that happened before he started heading over to the others.

“Who are you!?” The man was now aiming the gun at Dark. A large smirk played on Dark’s lips, he was excited to see that man’s face when he tore that gun out of his hands. The horror in his eyes as he held him in the air by his neck, cutting off his ability to breathe and forcing him to try to claw Dark’s hand away and kick his legs out in a helpless fight.

“Now, don’t you be pointing that at my friend. That’s-”

Everything stopped when the loud bang of the gun filled the air. Everything went quiet as Wilford fell towards the ground. Everything moved slowly when Wilford landed, blood splattering. A silent scream came out of Dark’s mouth as he sprinted over to Wilford. His heart raced. His chest ached. His head wailed as he felt a strong urge to vomit. What was this? What was this terrible feeling? Why did it hurt so much?

Fear.

Dark was scared. He was terrified. His very soul was crying out as he reached the only person he truly called ‘friend’. Dark fell to his knees, seeing the hole below Wilford’s collarbone. Dark could tell that tears were threatening to fall when Wilford mouthed his name, attempting to lift his hand, but failing. Dark hated this emotion. This emotion hurt. He hated it so much.

Dark quickly pressed his hands on to the wound. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. Wilford did not get hurt. Wilford did not get shot. This isn’t real. It can’t be. This has to be a lie. Dark swallowed thickly before sliding his hands away, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding when he saw that the hole was closed. He had never been so thankful for his magical abilities.

“I shot him! Holy fuck I shot him!” The man’s cries broke Dark away from his fear. Something else began to take over. A strong burning filled his entire body. Boiling in the pit of his stomach and flowing up through his throat and into his head. Dark slowly stood and faced the group of men. This emotion he knew. This emotion he understood. This emotion he was all too glad to work with.

Anger.

“You have made the worst mistake of your lives,” Dark said, voice becoming distorted. His aura began to grow, the red engulfing the blue, stretching out to form its own tendrils. “ANd YoUr LaSt.” Dark didn’t usually like to get his hands dirty but he easily willing to go against that. He was excited to. The red aura started to shadow over the now screaming men. They took off towards the exit, screaming, even more, when Dark was suddenly in front of them, cutting them off. They turned around and ran to only be cut off again, the aura now completely covering them. One tried to push through the aura but cried out when it burned his hand. Dark slowly walked towards the man who fired the gun. He was now sobbing, filled with the fear Dark had just felt. Good.

“No, no!” The man wailed as Dark reached for him. “I don’t wanna die!” He pleaded as he was grabbed by the throat and lifted into the air. Dark felt a rush of adrenaline coursed through him. Dark was getting what he wanted. The man cried and begged for something he was not going to keep. He was going to lose something he could not get back.

“And my friend didn’t want to be shot,” Dark emphasized the last word by punching his hand through the man’s stomach. Dark usually hated the feeling of blood on his hands. He was more of a man of words. He wanted them to control the people, to make them do whatever he wanted and would send others to end them but at the moment. The blood felt lovely on his skin.

“D...Dark.” The weak call of his name snapped Dark out of his craze. He dropped the dying man to the ground. The aurora falling at the same pace as the body. “Dark.”

“Wilford.” Dark rushed over to Wilford, quickly scooping him up into his arms.

“Dark...I-”

“Hush.” Was all Dark said before vanishing, leaving the men trapped in the warehouse since he took the ability to open the door or break the windows away.

Dark landed in the center of their kitchen, scaring Bim enough to make him toss his mug into the air, the shattering glass scaring him even more.

“Dark?”

“Get Dr. Iplier, right now and send him to Wilford’s room,” Dark ordered, sounding calmer than he felt as he walked away from the stunned show host.

“Can we help?” The Jims asked as they followed Dark.

“Water,” Dark stated, hearing the twins repeat the word and run off. Dark used his foot to open Wilford’s door, the bright pink was a startling contrast to the dark hallway, but Dark was used to it at this point and he laid Wilford down on his bed, adjusting the pillows to make sure that the man was comfortable. He gently removed Wilford’s bowtie and sat it on his bedside table before unbuttoning the yellow top, removing it from the man’s body so he could get a better look at the wound. It was still closed. Dark ran a thumb over it to make sure before going down to Wilford’s feet and removing his shoes, setting them neatly together at the end of the bed.

“How is everything?” Dr. Iplier asked as he entered the room, holding a bucket filled with water and multiple rags.

“The wound is closed, but he lost a lot of blood,” Dark answered, stepping back to give the doctor space as he placed his fingers on Wilford’s neck.

“Water!” The Jims yelled, holding five glasses of water each.

“Thank you Jims, set them on the desk please.” Dr. Iplier said after he sat down and dipped one of the rags into the bucket.

“Do you need anything else?” Reporter Jim asked.

“We’re all good here, thank you again.” Dr. Iplier strung out any extra water and began cleaning off the blood while the Jims nodded happily and left. “Eccentric boys, aren’t they?” Dr. Iplier chuckled softly, glancing a look over at Dark, seeing the blood that was starting to dry. “Are you injured as well? Or does that belong to another?”

“I’m fine,” Dark said, voice soft and monotoned.

“Do you need to talk? You sound off.” Dr. Iplier lifted Wilford’s arm, wiping the rag down the man’s side.  

“I’m fine.” Dark repeated in the same tone.

“I might be a terrible doctor, but I’m a great listener.” Dr. Iplier joked, getting a new rag and wetting it as well.

“You’ve improved,” Dark commented.

“I can thank you for that. I think the bruise on my wrist is still there from you.” Dr. Iplier laughed at the memory. “I didn’t expect you to get so angry when is misdiagnosed Wilford with the common cold instead of pneumonia.” Dr. Iplier sat the wet rag down and took a dry one. “It’s almost as if you care for the man.” The doctor teased the demon, giving him a wink.

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah, sure you don’t.” Dr. Iplier clicked his tongue and stood up. “His pulse is even, there’s wasn’t too much blood compared with what has been lost in the past. He’ll be fine. No need to worry.”

“I’m not-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dr. Iplier waved his hand as he left, closing the door behind him.

Dark let out a huff before taking the desk’s chair and setting it next to the bed, taking a seat and watching Wilford. Was he worried? Did he really care about Wilford? Dark didn’t care about anyone, that’s how he worked, that’s how he got things done. But to feet fear when he believed Wilford to be gone? To have pure anger in him towards the one who caused Wilford pain? He’s has been known to be protective of Wilford, to go out of his way to make sure the other man was okay. But that was just because of, what others called, their friendship. Dark wasn’t entirely sure what they were. He remembered referring to Wilford as his friend when he got shot but that was most likely just the heat of the moment. Right?

Dark looked at Wilford’s face and saw that a stray hair was on it. Dark unconsciously leaned over and brushed it aside, hand pausing to feel the warmth of Wilford’s cheek. A similar warmth, one that has kept bothering him, formed in his stomach. What was this? What was this strange feeling of something fluttering inside of him? Dark couldn’t prevent a small smile from forming as Wilford hummed softly and shifted his head to it was now being cradled by Dark’s hand.

Joy.

Dark quickly snatched his hand back and fully sat back down in the chair. Why did he get so happy? How did that make any sense? He was not a happy person. He did not get happy. Why did Wilford doing something as simple as that fill him with joy? Dark noticed that his face was heating up. He wasn’t embarrassed. There was no need to. What else could cause a heat to the face?

Wilford’s hand twitching caught his attention. Dark had a sudden urge to hold it and he gave in without much resistance. It was just a hand. It meant nothing. He started off by just resting his fingertips on top of Wilford’s palm, slowly moving them and feeling every line and the smooth and soft texture of it. He then slowly and gently wrapped his finger around the hand, his thumb rubbing against Wilford’s wrist. More heat began building up. But it wasn’t the heat Dark was used to associating with the emotions he’s been able to name. Anger had a heat to it, but that heat was harsh, it burned, it fueled him to act out. This heat was...pleasurable? It felt good to have this heat. He’s had little doses of it before and he just assumed that is was nothing, that it was just his body adjusting to the room’s temperature or something. Why did it only happen when Wilford was around then? That question made several different emotions flow through Dark.

Care.

Affection.

Joy.

Desire.

L-

Dark felt his body become even warmer when he finally realized what emotion that heat was attached to. But it couldn’t be. There was no way that it was that. He could never feel that emotion. Even though he believed those other emotions were impossible for him as well but here he was, feeling all of them at once as he looked at the man next to him. Dark felt the words bubbling up in his throat and they escaped before he could stop them.

“I love you.” Dark froze when he saw Wilford smile.

“I know.”

“Wil!” Dark stood up when the man spoke.

“Hey, buddy.” Wilford greeted, voice a little hoarse. “Took you long enough to admit it.” Wilford swallowed at Dark just stared in shock. “You mind getting me one of those glasses of water?”

“You knew!?” Dark finally snapped now knowing what first-hand embarrassment felt like.

“I mean, sort of.” Wilford cleared his throat. “I had a feeling that you at least liked me a little. Wasn’t expecting you to spill your guts out to me on my deathbed though.” Wilford chuckled weakly. “But seriously, some water would be great.”

“I’m assuming Wilford is awake?” Dr. Iplier asked as he opened the door. “Is everything fine?”

“Yep. Dark’s my boyfriend now and I would really like some water.” Wilford’s statement was answered with sputters from Dark and a laugh from Dr. Iplier as he fetched one of the glasses and handed it to Wilford.

“Thanks.” Wilford downed the entire glass, letting out an ‘ah’ when he finished. Dr. Iplier took the glass, checked Wilford’s pulse again and smiled.

“Call me if you need anything.” Dr. Iplier said before stepping back out.

“So, wanna hear how I ended up there?” Wilford asked and Dark sat back down.

“But-” Dark stopped when Wilford took his hand.

“You’re my demon boyfriend and as my demon boyfriend, you have to listen to my stories.” Dark opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Wilford began telling his tale anyways. He just settled down and listened to his friend...boyfriend talk. The warmth staying in his chest and he no longer questioned it. Knowing what it was and never wanting it to go away.

[johnlarens]

my great comet experience (act ii + stagedoor)

so here’s part two of my great comet experience! and here is part one: (before the show + act i + intermission)

LETTERS: - this song is such a headbanger - during the first couple lines, Pierre is at his desk writing a letter - “for I have been studying the Kabal-” and when he knocks on a book, dust flies everywhere - Mary is so desperate for Natasha to come back and be her friend :-( she just wants a friend - “So alone in here,” Scott and Denée’s duet with this line…….. - when Anatole is begging for Natasha to say yes to his proposal, he’s on his knees directing her gaze to him when she tried to look away - “Just say:: yes” ANSKDBDKDBDK Lucas is hilarious what tbrfuvk!! He held out the “ye-” part forEVER and just quickly ended it with the “s” - and when Natasha finally says ‘yes’ to Anatole’s proposal, Anatole does a ‘yes’ motion with his arm he’s so happy sndkfbflg that little soggy crocodile - towards the end of the song, Natasha has Anatole’s letter in her hand as she’s asleep on the ground, and Sonya comes along and swipes it up

SONYA AND NATASHA - Sonya is hiding Anatole’s letter behind her back and she looks so nervous and guilty like…baby please….. - Sonya’s face reeked with concern and shock when Natasha said that she’d do anything for Anatole - sonya (i feel) beats herself up so much for letting Natasha and Anatole’s relationship get this far - She just wants to protect her cousin from the (potential?) backlash and harm that could come her way for being unfaithful to Andrey - “I hate you, Sonya!”

SONYA ALONE - Brittain Ashford has such a beautiful voice and she nails Sonya tbh - throughout the whole song, Sonya and Natasha are on opposite ends of the stage. The spotlight is shining on Sonya the whole time, but the light bulbs that hang low are just barely illuminating Natasha - also, Sonya never takes her eyes off of Natasha

PREPARATIONS - “Ah, Anatole, where are you off to?” The way Anatole looks at Pierre- with the utmost surprised look- it reminded me of when a child is caught trying to sneak out by their parent - “you will not be seeing me for some time” and Anatole gives the audience the BIGGEST SMIRK - Before he heads off, Anatole changes into a black, short, leather(?) vest and check himself out in the mirror - “Ah, that’s a true sage, living in the moment. What I wouldn’t give to be like him.” - I love Dolokov - When Dolokov is trying to change Anatole’s mind, he’s grabbed him by the back of the neck and hair and pulled him back before letting him go

BALAGA - like I said before….I love Balaga - so I was sitting on the left side of the stage and on my side there were two ensemble men making out - And on the right side Hélène and Marya are making out and my soul ascended, it was amazing - Anatole’s green coat is so glorious

THE ABDUCTION - okay what the FUCJ - they all g SO. FUCKING. HARD. - THEY’RE ALL MOVING AROUND AND JUMPING AND THE LIGHTS ARE AMAZING AND THEY’RE SWINGING AND FUCCH J - I love Anatole’s green coat - SCOTT HE B E L T S HIS “wwWWOOOOOAAAAAHHHhhh”

- he tried to start up again and was like 'nope!’ and giggled and took a few more breaths before starting for real 

- abskdbfkf his face is so red from belting his woah and the next few lines and just from moving around so much - ANSKDBDK AND ANATOLE!!!!!!!!!! when he tells everyone to wait and shut the door AND THAT DOOR SLAMS SHUT - everyone rushes to sit down WHEN Anatole says so, and he squeezes next to this woman who is SO embarrassed!! - and then he starts talking to her (“yes, that’s the way. It’s a Russian custom”) - he stretches and slings his arm around her shoulders; and after he says “alright” he gives her a kiss on the cheek before heading off!! - at least until Dolokov interrupts about the fur cloak - THEN COMES HOMEBOY BALAGA - and oh my. Goddddddd!!!!! When Grace McLean emerges from the door with all that RED AND FUCKING GGOES “you will nOT EN TER MYYY HoOusSSe S C O U NDRELL!!!” - As Anatole is running off Natasha is in the corner looking terrified that she (or Anatole rather??) had been caught trying to elope

IN MY HOUSE - I want Grace McLean to yell at me - I also want her to win a tony - Natasha was covering her ears for a good few lines as Marya scolded her - Marya looks more shocked than angry when Natasha snaps at her - “Let her sleep!” Sonya practically flinches away from Natasha with the world’s most concerned face, as she slowly backed away

A CALL TO PIERRE - so homeboy Pierre looks like he’s passed out drunk, when his servant enters the room - And the servant!!! Oh my god akdbdkd so as he’s presenting the letter to Pierre, he’s rolling his wrist, waving the letter towards Pierre, urging him tit and it - And when he finally does, his face looks so confused?? - When Marya greets Pierre she’s happy to see him (but not under the circumstances) - When she asks where he’s been Pierre tousled his hair (nervously??) when he responds - And oh my oh man oh m a n!!!!!!!!! Pierre’s “what’s” get more and more intense and then after Marya’s “Natasha and aAANA tOLD KKUUURAAGIN” - “WHHAAAT!!!!!” I LOVED SCOTT OKAY HE WAS AN AMAZING PIERRE WHAT THE FUCKING - HE WAS FURIOUS MY GGOD I BUST THE NUTTIES OF NUTS - Marya’s face is so frightened and ANGRY GOD THEY ALL WANT TO BEAT UP SOGGY CROCODILE MAN

FIND ANATOLE - Pierre is searching for Anatole with such FURY and I love him - “Nonsense, nonsense, nothing has happened!” He’s shaking his head and waving his arms in emphasis that all is well he just wants to protect Natasha - “I must see, Natasha, how can I see her?” Anatole is so distraught and panicked - Anatole is draped over Hélène’s lap totally distraught and crying - The tone in Pierre’s voice when he disses Hélène is so raw and full of anger and the look on her face is so surprised and :O - When Pierre demands that he must speak to Anatole, he kinda chases him down the steps of the stage until Anatole follows him to his desk

PIERRE AND ANATOLE - the strings in the first few measures in this song is such a headbanger what the fucking??? - Pierre shoves some papers off his desk and throws a chair to the side - When he grabs and shakes Anatole with his big big hands I bust the BIGGEST nut - Pierre has Anatole pinned to his desk, hand on his throat - “And I don’t know what deprives me of the pleasure of smashing your head in with this!” the paperweight Pierre threatens him with is so BIG??? - When Pierre lets him go, Anatole is so upset and frightened! He’s brushing himself off and fixing his hair and rubbing his throat - Anatole shoves the remaining papers off of Pierre’s desk and ends up fixing his chair so it’s upright - “Amuse yourself with women like my wife, well then you’re within your right!” - “Don’t you understand that’s as cruel as beating an old man or a child!” Anatole’s hands are covering his ears and he looks so !!!!! :-( but that’s what u get! - when Anatole and Pierre are arguing and the electronic noises grow stronger and stronger Natasha poisons herself, and when she does, she screams and Sonya and Marya come running and they rush off stage - “Next day, Anatole left (PAUSE) fOoR PEETEE RrRSsBUUUUuyRRRRRRRRG” I bust a nut

NATASHA VERY ILL - At this point most of the cast (save for Scott and Denée) have sat down so they become part of the audience - Pierre helps Marya sit down on one of the stools on the stage seating and he’s so gentle and caring and I die

ANDREY AND PIERRE - they make fun of each other’s appearances just like friends do and it’s so heartwarming - they’re so happy to see one another - Andrey’s demeanor changes so much within the first few lines to when the two start talking about Natasha - at first he seems open and happy to see Pierre, but then as soon as he asks about Natasha and Anatole, and Pierre responds with “something of that kind” he shuts himself in - “If you wish to be my friend, never speak of that again.” He sounds so….empty and sad. He jabs his finger into Pierre’s chest- who just lets it happen….

PIERRE AND NATASHA 

- aka the song that makes me believe in love - when Pierre see’s Natasha struggling down the stairs she rushes to her, concerned - and then when she doesn’t give him he hand he’s so hurt and confused - “Peter Kirilovich” Pierre shakes his head, and puts his hand on his heart when he responds with just, “Pierre” - Denée’s voice is so quiet in this song, in the cast recording it’s at a regular, normal volume, but at the show, my god it’s so fragile, it’s…..so soft and sad - “but still I’m tormented by the wrongs I’ve done him,” she sounds and looks so disgusted with herself when she delivers this line and my heart broke - “tell him that I beg him to forgive…forgive…forgive me for….everything,” Denée sounded so close to tears at this line and I was so close to crying - “did you love, did you love that bAd man?” Scott is amazing and I love him as Pierre…..he sounded so…..heartbroken - “dOn’t call him bad!” after she snaps at Pierre, she looks so frightened - “She began to cry,” yeah, no, she SOBS! SHE’S BENT OVER WITH SOBS AND PIERRE LOOKS SO DISTRAUGHT MY GOD - in the audience is Hélène, and I noticed that she had her head in her hands and at one point was dabbing her face like she was crying and my god that hurt - “He felt the tears begin to trickle, underneath his spectacles-” his back is turned away from Natasha, and facing towards the audience, he’s so good I love him - he begins making his way towards Natasha, reassuring her that everything is alright and he will be there for her - to which she just shakes her head, saying how she is unworthy of his kindness - and holy shit we’re getting close to the part™ - Pierre is facing away from Natasha as he delivers the ONLY speaking part in the entire musical and,,,,,,,,,,,,mygod - Scott delivers those few lines perfectly, his voice is the right amount of scratchy, nervous, and loving, and my heart burst - “and glancing at Pierre, ooooOOh, Pierre,” …..my heart has never ached so much…Denée’s voice is so beautiful, and it’s THIS line that her voice goes from being so soft and quiet, to bright and happy- like sun shining through a window after a rainy day - The hand thing ™ Natasha does as she’s singing “-I leave the room smiling-” Pierre looks so confused and slowly backs his head away from her hand but once it cupping his cheek, he just accepts it and welcomes it - “-unable to find the sleeves,” Scott is so wonderful! He puts the coat on- just reflex I suppose- and time just seems to stop as we go into the final song

THE GREAT COMET OF 1812 - the girls who sat across the aisle from me was already crying from the previous song but now she was crying harder and that’s the biggest mood of them all - the transition between the last song and this one is so nice - Pierre finally realizes that he can and HAS changed and that he’s a better person and he’s so happy and my god I love him and I want him to have everything good in life - “shIIINES the gREEaAAT cOOOoMeet of 1812” I love the harmonies in this line - the comet i don’t even know how to explain what t looks like - It’s so bright and beautiful - Pierre is sitting down and gazing so longingly at the comet as it and the music get brighter - And the audience went nuts

STAGEDOOR - okay so so many people came out and I was so happy - I asked my mom to hold my playbill and get it signed for me while I took selfies….we had a system going :-p - Brad Giovanine came out and I was so excited!!! - I thanked him again for giving me a dumpling and he was so sweet! He was like, “I usually don’t remember faces, but I remember you!” I was so happy wtf - When Paul Pinto came out and I asked him for a selfie I told him that I loved him as Dolokov and he chuckled and said “I actually played Balaga” and I’ve never wanted to project myself into the dirt more ajdbdkdh! But he was really sweet about it! He teased me about it for a little bit! He was like “I’m the other brown guy!” “Me and Dolokov look pretty similar, especially from the audience!” And I said, “well you were hilarious as Balaga!” And he said, “maybe I was Dolokov? Maybe I will be?” And I was like “in my dreams you’re an amazing Dolokov.” And then as he moved on to sign my playbill I told my mom that I felt bad, and he heard me and was like “ah don’t be! It happens! I tease people about it all the time!” - Then Nick Choski came out and he was so sweet I loved him as Dolokov (I told him that and he smiled really wide and thanked me!) - Pearl Rhein came out and as I was about to gush to her about how much I loved her tattoos, and when she went to sigh my playbill, I noticed she had a treble and bass clef on her wrists and I was so shooketh - All in all it was such an amazing show and the actors were so nice I really hope they all say connected with one another and continue doing great things with music

so that’s it for my great comet experience! if you have any questions, or just want to talk about great comet, PLEASE DO! I love this musical so much

[crayonurchin]

That tooth really should have come out by now.

The mental note to stop wiggling the loose molar was mostly irritating at this point. Every time he caught a reflection of himself in the act, it looked more and more like he was just sucking his thumb.

Which he wasn’t.

Because only babies do that.

Babies and possibly Shaggy Doo when he’s scared.

Did Shaggy have the last name Doo?

The barman had switched the grimy TV back to football before the episode had ended last night. The thought of just WHO the mothman had been kept him up the entire night.

That, and his loose tooth.

The taste of iron was pretty common by this point. It did hurt to keep wiggling the damn tooth but by God what else was there to do? No one walked by at this hour, save drunk couples and drunk singles.

A root snapped.

Ow.

The tooth was looser.

Nice.

He wondered what he’d do with the tooth. Probably just throw it away. The tooth fairy hadn’t come the last three times so it was safe to assume she wouldn’t come a fourth. Perhaps if he found a pillow she’d show up?

Sure would be nice if she did. He reached past the open sketchbook and checked his cup again. No change from the last check. Four quarters and a bottle cap.

Wiping the bloody saliva off his fingers, he counted just one last time to make sure he definitely didn’t have enough for a hot drink. It always did his head in converting the currency. How come England didn’t have quarter measurements in money? Something felt wrong about four coins making a dollar. It’s supposed to be five twenty pences for one pound. At least America had the fifty pe- fifty cent coin right. Just two of those.

“... Isn’t that a musician name?”

Oh it was definitely a slow day if he was thinking about celebrities. Closing up the book and shoving the coins and bottle cap into his pocket (the one WITHOUT the hole) he set about searching for something sheltered.

It really must be getting colder. His legs didn’t usually shake this much.

The town square had a huge clock against the main hall. Though the size did not make the letters swim any less than usual. Cameron usually made a point of just assigning landmarks the arrows pointed to to represent the numbers. It was quicker that way.

Right now, the little arrow was pointed at the crack in the ground that looked like a butt.

Dang, eight already? No wonder this place was a ghost town.

Why did he have to think of ghosts?

The street lamps were only just flickering on, but the light was low enough to make the shadows more… shadowy. Cameron quickened his pace the best he could in his boots. The blisters had finally turned into hard skin so they didn’t hurt NEARLY as much as they used to. That didn’t stop them from still being way too big and clunky.

After the last few turns had proven to have way too many shadows, he settled on one lined with windows leading to cozily lit buildings. No shadows tonight!

A quick checklist was cleared before he took a moment to breathe. No open doors leading to establishments, no one else sleeping here, no dead ends and no chains for dogs to be hooked to.

Safe.

…

Had he had his fingers in his mouth this entire time?

Now completely annoyed with how babyish he must’ve looked, he yanked his hand free. A little too forcefully. Another root broke and the sharp edge dug into his gums.

OW.

The tooth was even looser.

….

Who cares?

Suddenly incredibly tired, Cameron found himself slumped against the nearest wall and quickly sliding down it. It was only butt-crack-o-clock, why was he so tired? All he’d done all day was sit by the bank with his sketchbook and cup.

…

GOD DAMN IT HE FORGOT HIS CUP BY THE BANK

There would always be more cups but that was a really good one. It had just been used by someone at Starbucks for a water so no nasty coffee drips left to slowly mold and reek. Hardly any disintegration and it’d been just the right size to fit perfectly under the water fountain so it could fill to the top without touching anything. He’d seen people spit in that fountain. There was no way he WOULDN’T use a cup.

If the place was still empty he could just go grab it, but it seemed unimportant right now. The ground was quite mercifully dry and while frigid, this place was bound to have a newspaper fluttering about. The comics were never funny but they sure were insulating. 

Honestly he wasn’t very cold right now. Things just felt very heavy.

An angry banging and barking startled Cameron awake. All the window lights were off, but luckily there were no shadows. Just an airless, icy darkness.

It must be ugly-window-plant pot in the morning, what on earth was making that noise?

Just as he noticed he was spooning his sketchbook, a bright light blinded him, and there was the sound of scraping and stomping. Propping himself onto his elbow to knuckle his eyes, something hot and foul smelling was suddenly on his face. He removed his fists to see a very white set of fangs embedded in very red gums.

Shrieking, he kicked away from the demon, and successfully slammed his head into the brickwall behind him.

“MAGGIE, SHUT UP YOU STUPID THING, YOU’LL WAKE THE WHOLE TOWN!!” Now there was a harsh smokey scent alongside the foul breathed monster and the voice that threatened to wake the whole town. ‘Maggie’ continued to bark incessantly.

“What’s got you all worked u- Oh for fucks sake Michael I told you to stop sleeping here-” There was now a white light blaring onto him. Cameron was still rubbing the back of his head before the voice suddenly got rather quiet.

“Oh my god..”

That was not a good tone.

Looking up too fast, he squinted in the light of the phone torch and the doorway. He didn’t need to see the features to know this woman was not happy to see him.

Or rather, she wasn’t angry, but she’d just realised that he wasn’t the kind of vagrant you don’t feel guilt in yelling at.

He was the kind you call CPS on.

The aforementioned Maggie took the lack of yelling to mean she had done no wrong and was free to openly ‘dog’. Knocking the wind out of his with a happy pounce, she set about licking a good deal of the dirt off his face, bumping his cheek with her snout.

“Maggie, for the love of- get off!” The woman grabbed the dogs collar and yanked her off. Maggie whined sadly. If his jaw wasn’t currently burning he’d had felt sorry for the daft thing.

“Where- are you parents here? What the hell are you playing at, do you know how cold it is out here? Do you want me to call the police?

Oh God.

Ohhhhh no she was already at 11.

He really hated doing this, it felt so manipulative, but there was no way he was letting her call anyone.

He yanked his cap lower over his face and hair. Hopefully she hadn’t had a proper look at him yet.

“I-”

MISTAKE.

MISTAKE WHY DID HE OPEN HIS MOUTH.

OW OW OW IN THE NAME OF THE LORD OW

WHAT HAD MAGGIE DONE TO HIM WAS HIS JAW BROKEN

WAS HIS FACE BROKEN

HE NEEDED HIS FACE

The tooth slid to the back of his throat and with a sharp cough that rattled more than he expected, it came flying out and onto the ground.

…

Well then.

That didn’t play well in the string of ‘i must’ve got drunk ha ha boys will be boys’ lie he had planned.

At least his face had stopped hurting at last.

“Jesus- here take my hand, let me get you inside kid”

Nope.

He sprung to his feet and twisted to bolt.

Was it really that cold out?

Did legs just really hate cold weather?

He made about three steps before both knees buckled and he got a fresh coat of dirt on his forehead.

His head hurt.

Everything hurt.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

A hand grabbed his wrist.

“You lot are all the same. Come on squirt, on your feet- Maggie behave or I swear to God I’m stewing you. There you go champ, see? You’re alright. Manage a few more steps? Ah- don’t worry, Ol’ Ella’s got you. We’ll get you patched up. S’okay, I won’t call anyone. I get it. But it’s gonna be hypothermic tonight, think you can be brave and come inside? You don’t gotta but we got a couch, and if Maggie decides she doesn’t want to go outside another eighty times it gets nice and warm in there. Sound good?” It did.

God it really did sound good.

This couldn’t be safe.

“The door isn’t locked.”

“You can leave if you want to.”

“Let’s call this selfish. I’ll feel like shit if I don’t at least attempt to play ‘aunt’ to another one of you kids.”

“Heck, I won’t even be mad if you rob us. All we have is my mother's denture cream and Maggie’s dog food so it’d mostly just be weird if you did.”

Even the doorway was warm. Just that fluorescent glow was cutting through the numb icy feel stuck in his bones. Every fiber was screaming at him to go inside. It was harder to kid yourself you were fine when relief was in front of you.

Last chance to make this feel alright.

He reached into his pocket, then remembered which one didn’t have the hole.

“I-I can pay?”

Ol’ Ella seemed well and truly shut up.

Had she still been talking?

Had he interrupted?

Was that rude?

Children should be seen, not heard.

Children like him shouldn’t been seen at all.

He knew his manners he knew how to respect adults he knew how to behave why couldn’t he just behave

“Alright”

An oversized hand took the four quarters and the bottle cap.

“That’ll get yaaaaa… Couch privileges, the shower after me and ma use it tomorrow, and a free cocoa before bed.”

He looked up.

Crap.

His face.

She laughed as he hid it again.

“Ohhh yeah, you kids are exactly the same. Come on, couch is this way. We don’t got cream but we got sugar cubes, that’ll sweeten it up juuuust fine.”

[jujubieberbae]

RIGHT HERE

Request: can u do an imagine wherein y/n is a college student and is having a hard time balancing her studies and having a long distance relationship with Justin and Justin plans a surprise for her and does all these cute stuff to y/n.

Sorry for the wait. Hope It was worth it.

Time. It's either your best friend or your worst nightmare. - A blessing or a curse - A hero or a villain. There are so many scenarios that can play out around the little hands of a mechanical machine that hangs on a dull wall.

In my case, at this second, I honestly could not hate time anymore then right now. It feels like it's purposely teasing me, trying to boil my blood with every agonisingly slow second. I swear I think I can hear the clock laughing at me. Each tick of the hands is a tiny giggle directed only at me.

There is so little time left, yet it feels like an eternity more. Just a few more seconds...

Three...

Two...

One...

RING

Oh thank God! With both hands, I swipe up all my equipment from in front of me and shove them aggressively back into my book bag. Not even letting Mr Martin compete his lecture on political opinions, I rush out the door and away from that nightmare of a class.

On the campus grounds, I'm immediately greeted with rushing students all around, all with the same determined goal and that is to get as far away from this hell hole as possible. Without even sparing a glance in the opposite direction, I'm immediately on the rush towards the girls dormitories.

My dorm room once I had approached it was my number one priority, quickly dashing inside as quick as possible, slamming the door with a sigh behind me. But It wasn’t as if I could just stop, drop and do nothing. I had hours and hours of studying ahead of me, and I was already having trouble keeping my eyes open.

It’s times like this I really wish Justin was here. To calm me down during times of anxiety and stress. I just miss him so much but I don’t have the heart to ask him to come and visit. He’s doing what he loves and I would never make myself a priority during a time made for belieber’s.

Many hours later, my dorm mate had been in out of the room for the last 20 minutes, yelling and laughing about with her friends. This totally threw me off, losing my train of thought somewhere between my books and the noise.

A sigh escaped my lips, fingers applying pressure to my temples in agitation. I can’t do this, not while I’m this distracted. I need my baby boy.  

After rubbing the corners of my eyes of the sleep forming, and removing my glasses from my face, I finally decided on a break and reached for my phone, quickly dialling Justin’s number for a facetime call.

It dialed, and dialled and dialled until....”Yo this is JB. Im probably busy in the studio or performing so just a leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.” 

“Hey Jay baby. I know your probably busy but I really just wanted to call. Schools been really hectic and I just needed to hear your voice. Call me back as soon as you can. Love you.”

“Hey, Y/N! Can you run down to the store and buy us some beer.”

My head shot over to the door of my room, a sigh escaping my lips. It annoys me that my roommate is too late lazy to go out and do it herself, deciding to disturb my study session instead, but then again, a break and something to get Justin off my mind was definitely well needed.

It was still sun up outside, it being only a few past 2 in the afternoon meaning people were more then likely just finishing there own classes for today. Deciding to leave my phone at home, I swiped up my dorm keys and my wallet, and made my way out of the dormitory.

The walk to the local walmart was short and quite enjoyable. The late summer breeze sang around me, swaying my hair slightly as I strolled down the bustling paths. Students surrounded the entirety of the campus grounds, either chatting or finishing off some work. 

But my mind was set firmly on Justin. Oh how I missed him. 2 weeks ago was the last time we had spoken. 3 months since we had seen each other. It was as if he was only seeming to become busier and busier as purpose tour went on.

And the fact that our relationship is very private worries me slightly. Justin could honestly get away with messing around with a girl if he wanted to. Not that I didn’t trust him. But no one knows about us, so it only makes me more anxious about this whole situation.

As the doors of walmart retracted, allowing me access inside, I quickly dashed over to the alcohol section, grabbing ahold of the cheapest and most affordable box I could find. After a bit of struggle, I had managed to make it over to the register to pay for the beer, only to be suddenly interrupted by a loud yell from outside. 

“OH MY GOD!”

It sounded high pitched and more shocked then anything. My eyes darted towards the windows of the store, peering outside at the scene before me. the Young cashier doing the same. 

All I caught sight of was a black SUV surrounded by a mob of girls. Suspicion drew within me, only one person I know that could cause such commotion running through my head. No, that’s ridiculous. He’s in New Zealand right now, half way across the world!

“Ma’am!” The boy called, it sounded as if he had been trying for my attention for a while. My head whipped back to stare at the boy, eyes wide.

“Sorry?”

“That’ll be 19.99.” He repeated, holding his hand out expectantly.

“Oh.” I mumbled, reaching out to hand the boy a twenty dollar note before grabbing a hold of the heavy box and quickly making my way outside. 

Gliding through the mob of girls was hard, and I tried everything to just ignore the scene and attempt to just get this box home as quick as possible, but the shouts of these girls had me drawn further and further in curiousity, one in particular catching me off guard.

“JUSTIN I LOVE YOU!” 

Justin?! I-It can’t be! can it?

My head immediately whipped around, turning to acknowledge the SUV parked rather close to me. My eyes locked on the tinted window supporting the back seat, squinting slightly as if something in me just knew something. And before I knew it, the door was opening. 

Slowly, but it was opening, a figure finding its way out of the car. Screams had enhances, more girls appearing at the realisation of the pop icon in our campus but out of every girl, his eyes seemed to only be on one. Me.

My eyes watered, tears threatening to spill at sight and the box I was holding immediately slipped from my fingers, a small crack sounding as it impacted the floor. “Justin?” I whispered. 

A smile played at his perfectly plump lips, arms spreading slightly as if to say ‘you guessed it!’

At that moment, Mikey stepped out of the front seat, a bouquet of bright red and white roses, and multiple shopping bags from stores such as Pink, Nike, VS, Lou boutin and Pandora In hand. All topped with a large card sticking out the top of the roses reading ‘To My babygirl, Love Jay baby.’

Instantly smiling at the use of my nickname to him, I looked over into his eyes with a grateful and loving smile.

“I’m right here baby girl.” He mumbled but to me, it was the loudest thing i could hear. Instantly, I pressed my body forward, wasting no time but to jump into his arms. Ignoring all the confused and jealous stares emitting from all around, I pressed my lips against his as he supported me by placing his arms under my ass.

Both arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to me to intensify the kiss. 

God, I missed his lips so much.

“You’re here.” I mumbled. 

“I’m here.” he repeated. “Right here.”

[ripplestitchskein]

How to Become a Witch in Ten Easy Lessons - (5/5)-A CS Modern Fantasy AU - COMPLETE!

Rating: T for Teen

Word Count: Approx 7K

Summary:  Emma Swan leads a quiet, solitary life, that is until a tragedy temporarily saddles her with three recently displaced orphans. Three recently displaced orphans who make quick work of discovering one of the reasons for her solitude and threaten to confirm the rumors swirling around town about her, unless she can do something to help them, something that will require the assistance of a mysterious Professor who isn’t quite what he seems either.

Read Part One Here!

Read Part Two Here!

Read Part Three Here!

Read Part Four Here!

On AO3 Here

______

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Emma called down to him from the deck of the ship, the children twined around the railing looking down at him excitedly. He stood knee deep in the water, his long coat floating on the surface, moving with the waves.

“You haven’t known me long,” he called back up to her. “I can assure you it’s not.”

“I really, really don’t like this plan,” she reminded him.

“I’m more than aware, but we have limited time and limited options, so can we please stop yelling and letting the whole bloody realm know what we’re up to?”

Emma sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her rapidly firing nerves, ignore the twisting in her stomach that screamed that this was a terrible, terrible idea.

He smiled up at her reassuringly, giving her a small nod. From his hook dangled the unused oil lamp from the hold below, glinting gold in the sun, looking as if a genie would issue forth from it at any moment. It would honestly be the least weird thing that had happened to them lately.

Emma took another deep steadying breath, holding out her hands, closing her eyes for the words of the spell, holding the picture of what she wanted in her mind. She tried to push all thoughts of him drowning, dying, being eaten by a terrifying sea creature aside and focus on what she needed, the animal she had in mind, no better choice for the man before her.

The sharp spark of power roared through her blood, so much more potent and just more in this realm of magic. It emboldened her slightly, this could really work. No this would work, the alternative wasn’t an option.

Below her Killian closed his eyes, wincing slightly in trepidation as she began to speak the words aloud. An electric shock of energy issued forth, a billowing cloud of white blue smoke enveloping him, and when she blinked down at him again, Killian was no longer there, a huge navy shadow in the water instead, longer than Killian had ever been tall.

A huge, shimmering swordfish, its dorsal fin protruding from the water like a shark, swam in a large arcing circle by the ship where Killian had stood, building up momentum, and then it burst from the water in a shimmering spray, the lamp gleaming as bright as the droplets running down its flank, arcing in a smooth crescent before disappearing back into the bay.

He was telling her he was okay. He was letting her know it had worked. She could feel it, as she watched the massive shape pivot and swim away, out into the sea towards The Sands and The Kraken.

She let out a breath, her hands shaking, feeling sick and anxious as she watched him go. Roland reached up taking her hand in his own.

“He’ll be fine, swordfishes are awesome,” the boy said wisely.

“He’s very brave,” Grace observed, hiding a hand over her eyes to block the sun so she could see the fish better, growing smaller and smaller as the distance increased.

“Yes,” Emma whispered, almost breathless, heart soaring. Doing those gymnastics again.  “Very brave.”

“Dead, is a word I would use,” said a clipped accented voice from behind them.

Emma whirled, shoving the children behind her as Arthur landed with a dull thud of boots on the deck. He was dressed bizarrely, a sickly yellow orange  jumpsuit, covered in straps and copper rivets, obscured his form, a heavy helmet under one arm, a vicious looking harpoon gun under the other.

Behind him heavily armored soldiers began fanning out, swords drawn, surrounding them in a half moon formation that left them no option of escape except to leap over the rail into the sea.

Arthur grinned at her, all charm and white teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Emma swallowed, clutching tightly at Roland’s trembling hand, her other going desperately to her waist, but her sword was in the cabin below, her gun a realm away.

“Take the children,” Arthur ordered, waving his hand almost boredly, still holding the helmet and gun under his arms. The guards moved forward en masse, a wall of plate armor and expressionless faces. Emma braced herself, putting her body between them and the children, ready to fight. But there were far too many, her fists ringing painfully which each blow against the metal, the force vibrating up her leg as she kicked at them.

Grace screamed as one of them grabbed her around the waist, hauling her up bodily, her legs bicycling in terror as she thrashed, trying to get free. Henry threw his book at the face of one of the guards, spinning it like a frisbee and ducked low under a reaching arm, trying to squirm away. There were still more waiting though, and they grabbed him by the ankle, dragging him painfully across the wooden deck back to the mass of soldiers.

One of the guards wrenched her to the side, an iron grip on her arm, and Roland leapt forward pulling away from her clutching hand. Emma tried to drag him back but her arms were yanked painfully behind her, her shoulders screaming in protest.

The tiny boy lurched fiercely forward, his teeth sinking into the flesh and fabric of a nearby leg, hanging on for a moment like a small feral dog. The man howled, trying to simultaneously grab the boy and shake him off. Roland let go, nimbly avoiding the grasping hands, until Arthur reached out, snagging the child by his borrowed vest, the tip of the harpoon dangerously close to his face, and shoved him forcefully into the chest of a waiting soldier. The man clamped his arms around the squirming boy with ease, locking him in place.

“Please, don’t,” Emma could barely breathe terror had seized her so tightly, she pulled against the tight grip of the men holding her, uselessly stamping her foot down on heavy metal clad boots.

“Take them to the beach,” Arthur said impassively. “Await my instructions.” They obeyed, obedient little lapdogs, dragging the children away, hissing and screeching, their feet scraping across the deck. They disappeared over the side with their captors, one after another. Her heart gave a painful snapping lurch with each one.

“Emma!” Henry cried out, his voice breaking with fear.

Emma’s eyes burned, rage and frustration twisting her face as she yanked, pulled and kicked, trying whatever she could to get back to them. There were too many, at least four large men, rock solid and immovable staying behind to hold her down. Arthur stared at her from across the deck, eyes wide and deranged, his lips tilted in an amused smile at her struggles. She wanted to rip his face off, tear him limb from limb, break each of his tooth straight white teeth one by one.

“Now, witch,” Arthur said lowly, slinking closer. “You are going to do everything I say, or one word from me and I’ll shut those little brats up forever.” He had leaned down her level, unfortunately just out of reach of her head, his breath hot and sickly sweet on her face.

“Please,” Emma tried again, a different tact this time, her voice desperate and broken. “Please, don’t hurt them.”

“That depends entirely on your cooperation,” Arthur warned reasonably. He looked speculatively up at the sails, surveying the ship with distaste.

“What do you want?” Emma could still hear the shrieking cries of the children on the beach as they struggled, growing fainter as they were taken further and further away. Panic swelled in her chest.

“Not much,” Arthur said. “I want this ship.”

“You can have it,” Emma said quickly, knowing in her heart Killian wouldn’t object, not really, not if it meant the children were safe. She may not know him well, but she knew that to her very bones, he would readily give up his home to save their lives.

“I’m not finished yet,” Arthur snapped. “And you. I need you to do whatever you did to move it before.”

Emma swallowed.

“Where do you want to go?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Why the same direction as your leather clad lover,” he motioned out into the bay with the harpoon. “I want to see The Beast.”

“But you said,” Emma swallowed some of the terror, straightening up, shoulders back. “You said it couldn’t be defeated.”

“And it can’t,” Arthur said cheerfully. He held up the odd helmet under his arm, a diving bell, the kind in old movies and museums. “But it can be distracted, and destroying this ship should serve well enough for that I think.”

“But why?” Emma shook her head confused. “Killian is getting the Sands right now. He’ll give them to you, I know he will.”

“You expect me to believe that? ‘We can’t let Arthur get his hands on them, no matter what’, “ Arthur echoed, his voice high pitched and mocking.

Emma reeled back at Henry’s words coming verbatim out of his mouth.

“How-?” She let the question trail off. He stepped forward, his hand reaching out, grabbing the seashell necklace around her throat, and pulling down with a hard snap. Her neck burned as it broke, the cord scraping her skin, and she stifled a cry, gritting her teeth.

“A little bit of mermaid magic,” his teeth flashed white as he looked at it. “Very useful, a reluctant gift from some visitors awhile back. Much like this suit. Pity their ship didn’t survive the trip, it would have been quite useful.” He glared at her, his eyes icy. “I heard every word.”

He leaned back into her face, sneering.

“And I know that you know who I am, and I also know that you know what the Sands can do, and I won’t give that thieving pirate scum the opportunity to use them against me.” He spat the words, his face ugly with disdain. Emma reared back trying to put some distance between them.

“But you have hostages,” Emma argued. “You have us right where you want us. He’ll negotiate.”

“And I should what, let you go? Let you turn the rest of my village against me?” He shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.” He pointed up at the sails, all business. “Move the ship.”

“No,” Emma glared at him defiantly, nostrils flaring.

“Move the ship or I will kill your children one by one, right in front of you. I was going to spare them, use the sands to ensure their silence, but if you insist” he said cheerfully and grinned. “We’ll start with the smallest I think, less mess if you change your mind.” He turned, half raising a hand to signal the waiting men on the beach.

“No! Wait!” Emma sagged. “Okay, okay I just need a second.”

“Tick, tock witch. No use stalling for time. I know you expect the pirate to return any moment,” he held up the harpoon gun, the tip glinting dangerously. “I have a little gift for him if he does. So if you want him to live you’ll be quick about it.”

She thought of Killian, vulnerable in his current form, unaware that anything was amiss, believing they had the upper hand, that they still held the element of surprise. The wicked edges of the spear would slice through him with no issue, unprotected and unaware, human or not. She let out a little noise of frustration.

“Fine. Let me go,” she barked at her captors. They looked to the king who nodded his assent and then she was free, four swords pointed squarely at her.

“Get on with it,” he gestured impatiently.

Emma raised a trembling hand, her fingers clenching. She could still hear the kids yelling for her from the beach, broken cries of her name and desperate angry pleas to let them go. She closed her eyes, one tear streaking down her cheek, and began to speak the words.

_____  )

It was less intense this time, her heart not in it, but the golden glow flew from her fingertips regardless, enveloping the ship from top to bottom in a trickle of magic, everything glowing and shimmering. The guards gasped, stepping back a bit in awe and Arthur grinned a manic grin.

The ship creaked and groaned as it slid across the sand, tilting sharply to the side, water crashing around the hull as it plunged from the beach back into the sea. Emma took a breath still chanting, fingers warm and prickling from the intensity of her magic, the ship turning as she willed, pointing out into the ocean once again. Ropes twisted of their own accord, and the sails filled with air, snapping backwards as the wind picked up. The ship moved faster.

One by one the guards leapt from the sides, faces fearful, splashing into the sea with fearful cries, a pre-planned abandon ship before they got to close to the monster. She hoped they drowned.

It was just her and Arthur then, her eyes burning with hate, his with glee as he pointed the harpoon squarely at her chest. She moved to turn her focus, turn her magic on him, the ropes lifting to her command, but he tutted.

“If I do not return my men are under strict orders to kill them,” Arthur yelled casually over the the whipping wind. “Make one move against me Emma and they’re as good as dead.”

He motioned back up to the sails, and Emma kept going, closing her eyes as they came closer and closer to where the crystal clear water became darker, a thin line of gradient blue marking the point of no return.

“Stop! Stop!” Arthur commanded. She lowered her hands, trembling with effort and unchecked anger. She clenched her fists. The sails dropped, hanging limp and useless, the ropes landing with dull thuds on the deck.

The ship rocked and swayed in ominous silence, creaking and groaning on the sea.

Arthur peered over the railing into the black waters below.

They were silent, and still.

Emma’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, marking the seconds of silence, stretching out tense and cold as they bobbed uselessly along.

“Perhaps The Beast is busy enjoying a pirate sized meal,” Arthur speculated cheerfully, donning his helmet, checking the thick rubber tubes from the metal tanks in his back, his eyes never leaving her, the harpoon pointed at her with deadly intent.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the ship gave a massive lurch, pitching them both to the deck. Emma’s hands slapped painfully on the wood. Arthur rolled, barely catching himself, and staggered to his feet.

“Right on time,” she heard him declare in a hollow echo from inside the helmet just as the monster gave a deafening shriek. The sound tore through the air, her stomach jolting in fear, a thousand tiny hairs rising on her neck and arms.

“This is where I leave you, Emma,” Arthur nodded to her as the ship lurched again, his rubber gloved hand grabbing onto the rail just in time to keep him from pitching into the deck. A slick dark tentacle rose into the air, towering above them, at least a hundred feet high. Arthur cried out as it slammed into the deck, just inches from him, wood splintering and spraying.

Emma fell backwards onto her ass, scrambling away as it whipped and probed, writhinglike a giant python. She looked frantically to Arthur. She couldn’t let him escape.

The shipped rocked again as Arthur climbed to his feet, readying himself to climb the rail but Emma was faster, the words coming easily, leaving her lips in a rush, adrenaline shooting through her as she chanted. The ship glowed gold again, tried to move, but the monster was stronger, four more humongous tentacles hugging it close, the wood cracking and snapping under the force of its grip.

A golden hued rope snaked out, lashing itself around Arthur’s leg, holding him in place. He cursed and kicked at it, trying to reach the railing. Emma moved her hand again, another rope surging down, grabbing him by the arm. The harpoon dropped uselessly onto the deck, skittering close. She couldn’t afford to grab it though, she had to keep trying to free the ship, had to stop Arthur. She kept chanting, her teeth chattering as cold sea water rained down on them from above. Another rope lashed him to the rail, holding him in place, yet another coming forward to twine with the first. The ship just knew what to do, even as it broke apart it helped her.  Arthur screamed at her, voice muffled and distorted by the metal helmet, red faced and enraged in the small grated window of the dome.

The Beast shrieked again, that unnatural cry that set her teeth on edge, twisting tentacles swinging wildly. One struck the mast and to her horror it snapped cleanly in two, as easy as breaking a twig. Emma barely got out of the way as the massive column crashed onto the deck, the planks buckling and breaking under the force. Her concentration shattered, the golden glow fading as she stumbled over the words, trying to remain upright, her magic petering out.

She was going to die.

The noise and roar of the breaking ship, the shrieks of the beast, and the raining water was deafening as she tried to reach the rail, if she could get herself overboard, get into the water perhaps she could make it to shore.

It was a long shot but it was her only shot.

She reached out as the world tilted, the deck caving in the middle, a smooth slide straight into the creature’s gaping mouth. She looked down in horror at several rings of teeth and slime rotating below her. She shrieked, her feet scrambling against the deck and braced herself against gravity, her fingers barely grasping a rung of the rail as the ship crumbled and fell apart around her.

Across the deck she could see Arthur’s orange yellow form struggling against the knotted ropes, helmet lost, hair matted to his reddened, terrified face. Emma turned away, pulling herself up with all the strength she possessed, the wood slick, her feet dangling as the deck rose higher and higher, the ship sinking lower and lower as the demon consumed, wood and sail and rope disappearing into its maw, folding the ship in half.

She closed her eyes again, her voice lost in the din as she desperately chanted, focusing her magic inward, her fingers too busy holding on for dear life to focus the spell. She had no idea if it would work, but she tried anyway, speaking faster and faster, stumbling over the syllables as her voice shook with terror, the sharp gnashing teeth getting closer and closer as the deck disappeared one gnash at a time.

She heard Arthur’s desperate terrified screams even over the noise, and blocked it out, speaking faster.

It started slowly, a buzzing in her limbs, a warm glow like trickling water moving over her body. She glowed gold, feeling weightless as she rose, her hands releasing the deck as her body lifted into the air.

It was working. She wanted to scream in delight.

Emma chanted faster, desperately, her body hanging suspended in the air, the ship a mass of unidentifiable blue and yellow boards now, Arthur gone. She closed her eyes and willed herself higher, willed herself closer to shore.

A whipping tentacle lashed out, flying through the air. It struck her squarely in the back, pain lancing through her and Emma fell like a rock, down, down into the water below.  

_____

The sea was icy cold, a million needles jabbing at her skin as she swirled and tumbled in the churn. Her lungs burned, eyes wide in terror as she kicked her legs, trying to find which way was up. Everything was black fog, no light broke through here, and debris swirled in the water around her.

She stretched herself upwards, hands reaching, saying a silent prayer that this was up, that she was just a few moments away from breaking the surface. Red rimmed her eyes, her vision growing narrower and blacker as her mouth opened, body straining against the need to suck in air, knowing she’d only fill her lungs with sea water instead if she did. She made small desperate whimpers, kicking fiercely, fighting against the swirling water.

Something flashed in her periphery and she cried out, her scream nothing more than muted noise and bubbles as something dark and silvery streaked by her. The kraken.

She screamed again desperately, a gurgling cry, her legs working harder, arms flailing, trying to get away as her vision narrowed further, red and black taking over as her oxygen ran out, as her consciousness fled.

Something large and hard struck her side, sharp burning pain glancing across her ribs, but she barely registered it over the pain of not breathing, her senses dulling with each second that passed, and then she was rising, lifting, her arm draped across rough cold flesh and scales.

She surged through the water, the mass propelling her upwards, and then they broke the surface with a spray of salty water, and the shriek of her gasping air back into her burning lungs. She panted, and gulped in more and more precious oxygen, wrenching sobs of terror joining the tears streaking down her cheeks. Her side burned, cloudy muted red blood filling the water.

The shape circled again, pressing into her, gentler this time, still too hard but familiar and beautiful.

“Killian,” she sobbed out, recognizing him.

Across the water the monster shrieked.

The fish that was Killian swam away, turning in a wide arc, and gracelessly rammed into her side again, her arm reaching around to clutch a spiny fin, the scales cutting into her fingers and arm as he pulled her quick as he could through the water.

The monster shrieked, a surge of water as it moved pushing them faster forward, but the land grew closer and closer with every passing second. She glanced behind her, massive tentacles waved in the sky, a giant bulbous head sinking beneath the waves, nothing left of the beautiful ship but debris.

She wanted to apologize, to tell him she was sorry, but she was unsure if he would hear her, unsure if he would even understand as he swam them closer and closer to the shore.

The form under her shifted, seemed to melt away, rough scales shrinking, morphing, becoming warm flesh and leather. She released the fin, kicking herself away in the water, watching fascinated as pale sky blue smoke enveloped the creature, a man breaking the surface of the water with a gasp an instant later.

He clutched the golden lamp to his chest with his hook, legs kicking, his arm treading the water. He looked disoriented and afraid for an instant, hair plastered to his beautiful human face. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob, but there was no time. They had to get to shore, get away from the creature and back to the children.

“Emma?” He looked at her bewildered for a second, reaching out automatically.

“The kids,” she gasped out, straining to keep afloat, her legs moving constantly, treading the icy water. He nodded, teeth chattering and reached out, looping her arm over his shoulder. She wasn’t a weak swimmer, but Killian was better, a life at sea giving him an edge as he helped move them agonizingly slowly to shore.

The bay was silent behind them as they swam, the monster sated for now.

____

They skulked along the shore line, staying close to the line of the brush. Killian’s sword was out, the lamp safely in the pocket of his coat. Emma limped along beside him, a large rock in her hand, the only weapon she could find on such short notice, her other hand pressed to her burning side.

Killian cut his eyes to her, frowning, air hissing between his teeth.

“I’m so sorry love,” he whispered and reached out, his sword hand hovering over the wound. “I couldn’t gauge….” he trailed off, face pinched in anguish that he had hurt her. Emma forced a smile.

“It’s not your fault, you were trying to help me,” she said softly and grabbed his wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You saved me. It’s not very deep, just a scratch.”

He didn’t seem comforted by that, but there was no time to press further.

“There’s at least six of them,” Emma hissed as they crept closer. “Big guys, armor, swords. The whole deal.”

“Won’t be a problem,” his voice was low with murderous rage, teeth clenched. He was seething mad, his eyes glancing every so often to the wound at her side, her limping gait, her body one big bruise. “I’m going to kill him.” He breathed out.

“I think you’re a bit late,” Emma said. “The squid thing kind of ate him.” She thankfully hadn’t seen said eating, but she doubted she would forget the agonized screams over splintering wood any time soon.

“Good.” That pretty much summed up her feelings as well. They moved quickly along the shore, rounding the curve of the island, back to the same shore where the ship had been.

What awaited them was not at all what Emma was expecting. Instead of half a dozen guards and three terrified captive children she was met with the rapidly moving forms of Henry, Grace, and a struggling Roland, running towards them across the sand.

Behind them four men clanked and clanged, giving chase, their heavy armor slowing them down, their faces enraged.

“Emma!” Roland cried desperately, spotting her. He almost tripped and stumbled but Henry and Grace had firm holds on his arms, pulling him along.

Killian roared forward, his sword and hook out, veering around the children to come head on at the approaching guards.

Emma stopped briefly, running her free hand along their hair and faces, resolving to ask what happened later, and then followed him into the fray.

He moved like liquid lightning, his sodden coat billlowing out behind him, his face twisted in rage. His sword clanged, a booted foot kicking one guard into another, firmly planted in the plate armor of his chest. They fell in a tangle of bodies, another guard swinging wide to avenge them. He caught the sword with his hook, twisting his wrist. The sword flew, landing in the sand and Emma grabbed it, holding it before her.

Further up the beach two more guards limped in their direction. She swung the sword wide like a baseball bat, the flat connecting solidly with the metal chest of the fourth, pain vibrating up her arm from the force, her side burned but she pushed it away, focusing on the men before her.

Killian sent the pommel of his sword straight into a waiting guard’s temple, the man’s helmet buried in the sand where he had fallen, ducking just in time to avoid the swinging sword of the other. It was pretty amazing to watch, all grace and speed and confidence, her heart pounded, but there was no time to admire his form, she swung out again, wild uneducated strokes, one of the guards backing away at her crazy unpredictability.

“Emma, your magic!” Henry screamed from behind her.

“My magic,” she breathed, suddenly remembering, her arms feeling weak and rubbery. “Right. I have that.”

She closed her eyes briefly, metal clanging in her ear, panting breaths and angry grunts. Killian roared again. She opened her eyes, the words there again and spoke them in a rush, electricity zipping down her arm.

There was another whirl of smoke, first one than the other, one by one, pinkish red clouds filling the air.

In an instant six chittering chattering monkeys appeared on the sand, one barely dodging the swing of Killian’s sword. He overbalanced at the unexpected change in his assailant, his sword dropping into the sand. He looked at them baffled for a moment as they scrambled away, shrieking down the beach in terror.

He turned to Emma, that ridiculous cheeky expression on his face again.

“Oh, were they cute too?”

Emma smiled weakly at him, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep herself upright.

It felt like all the energy had drained from her body, her side throbbed.

“I just like monkeys, I told you,” she said. Killian’s face dropped into concern, barely getting to her in time to catch her before she fell into the sand. She leaned against him, warm and solid, smelling of sweat and sea water, and breathed him in, not caring for a moment if she should.

“You were amazing,” Killian said softly, shifting to help her stand again, taking on more of her weight.

“So were you,” she smiled up at him, a bit breathlessly, his blue eyes shining. He glanced briefly at her lips, his face flickering with indecision when the kids’ exuberant cries carried up along the beach.

“Emma!”

“Killian!”

“Did you get it!”

“Did it work?”

“That was so cool! They just ran away.” One of them made mocking monkey noises and they skidded to a halt in front of the adults. Emma reluctantly pulled away from the warmth of his arms, steadying herself as the kids crowded around.

Killian shuffled to the side, awkward and unsure in the face of such an exuberant reunion, busying himself scanning for more guards.

One by one they circled them, Roland’s hands clutching her soaked dress, Grace and Henry bouncing around her excitedly.

“Did you get it?” Henry repeated, looking at him expectantly. Killian paused for a moment silent. Henry’s face fell a fraction before Killian withdrew the shining gold lamp from his coat, his face breaking into a grin.

“‘Course I did. Was there ever any doubt?” Before he could say another word three yelling and cheering children were upon him, tackling him bodily to the ground.

“This again,” he grunted from the sand, the lamp held aloft, smiling up at them despite himself.

“You did it, you did it!” Killian laughed, gently batting the children away, rising awkwardly to his feet.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Grace whispered to Emma, her eyes shining. The day was catching up to her Emma could see it on her face. Emma smiled.

“You too, I was so worried,”’she looked at the three of them her heart swelling, threatening to burst.

The rushed towards her, wrapping tiny arms around her waist, careful to avoid her burning ribs, Roland clutching at her leg. She pulled away slightly, looking down at them with a confused frown.  “How did you guys get away, anyway?”

“The daggers!” Henry exclaimed. “We still had the daggers Killian gave us!”

“Roland hit one of them in the shin with the telescope,” Grace declared proudly.

“I poked one of them in the leg,” Henry said. “And Grace hit her guy in the face with hers.”

“I couldn’t get it out of the thing,” the girl blushed.

“You did great,” Emma said, resting a gentle hand on her head. She hugged them back to her again, three warm bodies filling her chest with something undefinable. When she opened her eyes Killian was grinning at her over their heads.

“Where’s the ship?” Roland asked, looking behind them, searching for it. Emma’s face fell, and she looked to Killian, the delighted smile fading as he remembered. Her heart broke at the expression on his face, pure unadulterated anguish for a brief instant, his eyes shining in the sun. He looked away, his jaw clenching, a muscle fluttering in his cheek.

“Killian,” she untangled herself from the kids, all of them deflating when they realized the implication.

He turned back to her, his face stretched in an unnatural grin, his teeth straining his lips. His eyes were unnaturally wide, red rimmed and unable to completely hide his emotions.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” he said finally after a moment, the sincerity outweighing everything else.

“But your ship,” she said helplessly.

“Is just a ship,” he said firmly.

“But it was your home,” she wanted to bury herself in the sand. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and let him weep against her neck. She wanted to press her hand along his brow, stroke down his jaw, and let him mourn. But he waved it off, turning away again, his back ramrod straight and tense, his eyes stuck hard on the sea.

“We should go,” he said finally, his voice steady but hoarse. “Before more of them come.”

Emma let out a breath and nodded, wanting to cry.

“Henry?” She looked at the boy. “The bean.”

Henry’s face fell further, his eyes going wide with fear.

“Henry?” She tried again. Dread filled her chest.

“It was in my pants,” he motioned down to his borrowed clothes. “My pants were on the ship. I forgot it when I changed.” He looked like he might cry. “Killian told me to keep my dagger but I forgot about the bean.”

“Well we had more,” Emma said. “A whole bag.”

Henry sucked in a breath looking like he was going to cry.

“I hid them in a trunk in the hold,” he whispered. Emma’s stomach sank.

“We can’t get back,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “Without the beans we’re stuck here.”

“No. We’re not.”

Killian reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black pouch, his finger probing inside it for a moment, and then he dropped it into the sand, holding up one shimmering clear bean between his fingers.

“What? How?” Emma’s jaw dropped.

“When I gave you the dagger,” he looked at Henry apologetically. “I took it from your pocket. Pirate.” He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed.

Henry patted his leg as if the bean should still be there, bewildered.

“You had that the whole time?” Emma accused. His face morphed to shame and he nodded, casting his eyes down.

“Aye.”

“You could have left all this time?” She said incredulous. “You didn’t have to do any of this?”

He looked up in shock at her words but Emma was already moving, crossing the beach in quick running strides, ignoring the pain in her back and her side to crash into him. He grunted on impact, his clenched fist going around her waist automatically to steady her, the flat of his hook at her hip as she grabbed into the thick leather lapels of his coat and yanked him into her space, pressing her lips to his.

He gasped into her mouth, shocked and frozen for a brief moment before he was kissing her back, his mouth hot, his arms clutching. She kissed him with all she had, everything that she had pushed below the surface, her fingers moving, snaking around his neck, tangling into damp hair, tongue teasing his bottom lip. He hoisted her up a bit, leaning her back, gathering her to him just as desperately, pressed together from chest to toes. A small moan into her mouth vibrated against her lips, tugged at a place behind her bellybutton, heat trailing down her spine, all that fear and adrenaline surging between them.

“Gross,” Roland said from behind them.

Emma broke the kiss off with a laugh, pressing her face, flushed red with embarrassment into his neck, shaking.

“You could have gone home,” she whispered into his neck, mouth pressing up along his jaw, stubble rough on her lips as she spoke the words. His arms squeezed her tighter.

“No. I couldn’t,” he whispered back, his cheek pressing against her temple, closed fist moving to her hair.

Emma pulled back, looking into his face, his blue eyes blown black, raw and open, barely rimmed in blue.

“Come with us,” she said softly. “Back to Storybrooke.”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” he laughed nervously, leaning back to show her the single bean.

“Stay with us,” she amended, her hand finally getting its chance to smooth along the plane of his jaw, all the sincerity in the world in her eyes. “All of us.”

He swallowed, disbelieving, blinking away the shock, the lust in his eyes replaced with a spark of hope at her words. When he spoke again it was choked and strained with emotion.

“Aye.”

_____

“Are we ready?” Emma looked at gathered children. All of them nodded with excitement, their faces dirt smudged and  exhausted, but happy. She smiled down at them, and looked behind her to the man still kneeling by the shoreline. She frowned, worried.

“Killian?” She motioned for the children to wait, and turned, walking down to join him. “Are you ready?”

“Aye, love.” He forced a smile, and stood up. She looked down to his hand, a wooden disc, roughly the size of a silver dollar flipped between his fingers. A piece of his ship. Several more bits of debris were coming in with the tide, left behind as the waves rolled back out to the sea.

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Do you…need a minute? To say goodbye to her?”

He shook his head, smiling sadly down at the sand.

“No,” he said, his voice hitched a bit and he gulped. He shoved the little disc into his pocket, sucking in a steadying breath. Emma reached out, awkwardly taking his hand in her own, lacing their fingers together.

“She was a beautiful ship,” she said.

“Aye. Best ship in all the realms,” he repeated his description from earlier, looking out over the water.

“I’m so sorry Killian,” Emma whispered.

“Don’t be,” he cast the sad smile to her, his hand squeezing. “Come on, love.” He turned them, swinging their arms slightly as they began the journey back to the waiting children.

“Let’s go home.”

Her heart stuttered at the simple word, so much more now than it had been before.

“Okay.” She took out the bean, looking at the three eager faces, at the man beside her, and smiled as she tossed it onto the sand.

_____

The New Storybrooke Orphanage was the fastest building erected in the history of the state. Possibly the country, no one could be sure.  An anonymous donor swept in and closed the site on a Friday, construction cones and orange and white striped barricades keeping the town far away from grounds.

Permits miraculously were found in files no one had touched, drawn up, approved and signed in record time. An unknown construction crew had descended on the site and completed in days what would have taken weeks or months. It was a town wide miracle. One no one could seem to figure out.

The town buzzed with the news, wondering who the mysterious donor could be, the only new face in town the dashing Professor Jones of postal service infamy, the name from so many odd little packages, here now in the flesh, the rumored long distance boyfriend of the reclusive Sheriff’s deputy, the boyfriend who now inhabited her house though no moving vans had ever been seen.

He certainly didn’t look like any professor they had seen before, dark, brooding and favoring black leather. The timing of his arrival was suspect though, his financial status unknown, so assumptions were made, and Granny refused to take his money in the diner despite his bewildered protests.

The displaced orphans moved into the building on a Thursday, everything new and gleaming. There were mountains of presents on each of their beds, Christmas in July, new clothes in their bureaus, and a celebration in their honor. Mayor Mills cut the ribbon, still unsure how any of it had happened without her office knowing about it, but the paperwork was all in order and she was unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth. New orphanages were good for re-elections.

All of the children returned to their brand new beautiful home, save three, who seemed to be placed in the temporary custody of the same reclusive Sheriff’s Deputy ridiculously easily, no questions asked.

The little blue house with the tower, once so empty and lonely was suddenly filled with noise and life, with love and laughter and cuddles in the morning, scruff on her neck, and warm lips pressed against her hair. Emma Swan was almost as happy as she could ever be.

Almost.

Killian kept the little brown disc in his sock drawer, now filled with brand new socks. He looked at it every morning as he dressed, taking it out, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. Every morning she watched him, heart in her throat, apologetic kisses on his cheek, and every morning he closed the drawer, smiled at her, sometimes tugging her back into bed, and went about his day.

Until one day the little brown disc was missing, four mischievous pairs of eyes looking up at his inquiry at the breakfast table, eights pairs of hands in various sizes pushing and pulling him through the streets of town down to the harbor, one pair wrapped around his eyes.

A kiss pressed to his neck, a small hand tugged on his hook, and when the hands were taken away his ship greeted him, large as life, gleaming and new, bobbing in its brand new slip at the dock. No one in the town thought to wonder where it had come from. Mysteries were commonplace these days.

Everyday Emma placed the same pair of calls.

One to the social worker to update her on the status of the children. The other to a lawyer.

Everyday she smiled at her three charges, her heart aching as the voices on the other end told her the same thing.

Single. Unwed. Criminal record. Mysterious, foreign live-in boyfriend.

“It doesn’t look good Ms. Swan.”

“Three children of those ages is a lot of responsibility Ms. Swan.”

“I’ve never seen such a thing approved before Ms. Swan.”

She had them send the applications anyway.

As she signed her name, the ink still wet she sprinkled a tiny bit of fine red sand into the black scrawl, blowing to make it dry, smiling as she handed the thick packet to gossipy Happy at the post office.

It was the fastest adoption proceedings in the history of the state. Possibly the country, no one could be sure.

FIN

Notes: 

I had such a blast writing this fun little fairy tale. I wanted to both honor @phiralovesloki​ ‘s dream because I love and adore her and also play with a Bedknobs and Broomsticks esque story that didn’t copy the original but took the concept: Three orphaned children on an adventure with a reclusive wanna be witch and the charlatan that sold her magic and put an OUAT spin on it. If you haven’t watched the film I highly recommend it and you might see the nods to the story within.

Thanks to @scapeartist​ and @kat2609​ for the support that got me writing again.

All my love and thanks to Liz @caprelloidea​ who flailed and beta’d and made me feel like this was the greatest story in the world, and HUGE HEAPS OF LOVE to Phira. Like all I have to give. I hope you liked your present, you mean a lot to me and you’ve supported me since my very first little story in this fandom and it has always meant the world.

I finished a multi-chapter fic ya’ll! Now to finish the rest of them…

[beyondforks]

Playing Catch Up! Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver

Playing Catch Up has really been helping me through my ever growing TBR list. I'd like to welcome all other blogs to participate too! If you do, be sure to post your links in the comments section. I'd love to see your Playing Catch U

p Reviews, and I'm sure others would too!! *wink*

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Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver   Genre: Young Adult (Contemporary/Romance) Date Published: October 25, 2010 Publisher: HarperCollins

With this stunning debut novel, New York Times bestselling author Lauren Oliver emerged as one of today's foremost authors of young adult fiction. Like Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why and Gayle Forman's If I Stay, Before I Fall raises thought-provoking questions about love, death, and how one person's life can affect so many others.

For popular high school senior Samantha Kingston, February 12—"Cupid Day"—should be one big party, a day of valentines and roses and the privileges that come with being at the top of the social pyramid. And it is…until she dies in a terrible accident that night.

However, she still wakes up the next morning. In fact, Sam lives the last day of her life seven times, until she realizes that by making even the slightest changes, she may hold more power than she ever imagined.

I'm not sure how I feel about this book, but days later, I'm still thinking about it so that has to mean something, right? I've been meaning to read Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver for a very long time, and it finally took seeing the movie trailer to light a fire under my butt and get it done. It looked like a movie I'd want to see, soooo naturally, I HAD to read the book first. This book was oddly good. I say "oddly" because the characters, especially the main character, aren't people I liked at all. They were selfish, superficial, and self absorbed. I spent so much time annoyed or mad at Sam.. it was crazy. Sam is pretty dense, and it takes her a long time to learn lessons. It's like she has no idea how to be a good person anymore. Her friends are the same, so they were unlikable in every way. With that all being said, if Sam and her friends were good people, we wouldn't have a story. So, if characters like these bother you as much as they do me, just hold on. There is a point to it all or rather a few points, but I'm not going to tell you what they are. Pretty much the only redeeming character was Kent, and I absolutely hate the turn of events that happen for him, and that whole situation taints the entire book for me. In fact, I'm still on the line between love and hate for this book because of him. There's a pattern to each day Sam relives, and like a puzzle, they start to piece together more and more until you get to the ending. I loved it, and I hated it. It was beautiful, and it was ugly. The words "oddly good" come into play again, because that's just the best two words I can think of to describe this book as a whole. There was an epilogue, but it was more of a continuation of the actual ending. I really wish the epilogue would have given us a look at the future of the characters instead, and it wouldn't even have to be far in the future. A week later, a day, even an hour or so... just to see what the characters took away from everything that took place. Was it all worth it? Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, that would have been very a nice(and I feel necessary) thing to know. And just a little personal side note. In what world is riding horses considered uncool? Does one even exist? I'm glad that's not my world. That's all I have to say about that. Anyway, back to my review. I have so many conflicting feelings about this book. I really don't know what else so say. So, I'll just end here by saying... it was oddly good.

They say that just before you die your whole life flashes before your eyes, but that's not how it happened for me. To be honest, I'd always thought the whole final-moment, mental life-scan-thing sounded pretty awful. Some things are better left buried and forgotten, as my mom would say. I'd be happy to forget all of fifth grade, for example (the glasses-and-pink-braces period), and does anybody want to relive the first day of middle school? Add in all of the boring family vacations, pointless algebra classes, period cramps and bad kisses I barely lived through the first time around... The truth is, though, I wouldn't have minded reliving my greatest hits: when Rob Cokran and I first hooked up in the middle of the dance floor at homecoming, so everyone saw and knew we were together; when Lindsay, Elody, Ally and I got drunk and tried to make snow angels in May, leaving person-sized imprints in Ally's lawn; my sweet sixteenth party, when we set out a hundred tea lights and we all danced on the table in the backyard; the time Lindsay and I pranked Clara Seuse on Halloween, got chased down by the cops, and laughed so hard we almost threw up. The things I wanted to remember; the things I wanted to be remembered for. But before I died I didn't think of Rob, or any other guy. I didn't think of all the outrageous things I'd done with my friends. I didn't even think of my family, or the way the morning light turns the walls in my bedroom the color of cream, or the way the azaleas outside of my window smell in July, a mixture of honey and cinnamon. Instead, I thought of Vicky Hallinan. Specifically, I thought of the time in 4th grade when Lindsay announced in front of the whole gym class that she wouldn't have Vicky on her dodgeball team. "She's too fat," Lindsay blurted out. "You could hit her with your eyes closed." I wasn't friends with Lindsay yet, but even then she had this way of saying things that made them hilarious, and I laughed along with everyone else while Vicky's face turned as purple as the wrinkled underside of a storm cloud. That's what I remembered in that before-death instant, when I was supposed to be having some big revelation about my past: the smell of varnish and the squeak of our sneakers on the polished floor; the tightness of my polyester shorts; the laughter echoing around the big empty space like there were way more than twenty-five people in the gym. And Vicky's face. The weird thing is that I hadn't thought about that in forever. It was one of those memories I didn't even know I remembered, if you know what I mean. It's not like Vicky was traumatized or anything. That's just the kind of thing that kids do to each other. It's no big deal. There's always going to be a person laughing and somebody getting laughed at. It happens every day, in every school, in every town in America--probably the world, for all I know. The whole point of growing up is learning to stay on the laughing side. Vicky wasn't very fat to begin with--just some baby weight on her face and stomach--and before high school she'd lost that and grown three inches. She even became friends with Lindsay. They played field hockey together and said hi in the halls. One time Vicky brought it up at a party our freshman year--we were all pretty tipsy--and we laughed and laughed, Vicky most of all, until her face turned almost as purple as it had all those years ago in the gym. That was weird thing number one. Even weirder than that was the fact that we'd all just been talking about it--how it would be just before you died, I mean. I don't remember exactly how it came up except that Elody was complaining that I always get shotgun and refusing to wear her seatbelt and kept leaning forward into the front seat to scroll through Lindsay's iPod, even though I was supposed to have deejay privileges. I was trying to explain my "greatest hits" theory of death and we were all picking out what those would be. Lindsay picked finding out that she got into Princeton, obviously, and Ally--who was complaining of the cold, as usual, and threatening to drop dead right there of pneumonia--participated long enough to say she wished she could relive her first hook-up with Matt Wilde forever, which surprised no one. Lindsay and Elody were smoking, and freezing rain was coming in through the cracked windows. The road was narrow and winding, and on either side of us the dark stripped branches of trees lashed back and forth, like the wind had set them dancing. Elody put on "With or Without You" to piss Ally off, maybe because she was sick of her whining. It was Ally's song with Matt, who had dumped her in September. Ally called her a bitch and unbuckled her seatbelt, leaning forward and trying to grab the iPod. Lindsay complained that someone was elbowing her in the neck. The cigarette dropped from her mouth and landed between her thighs. She started cursing and trying to brush the embers out from the seat cushion and Elody and Ally were still fighting and I was trying to talk over them, reminding them all of the time we'd made snow angels in May. The tires skidded a little on the wet road and the car was full of cigarette smoke, little wisps rising like phantoms in the air.Then all of a sudden there was a flash of white in front of the car. Lindsay yelled something--words I couldn't make out, something like Sit, or Shit, or Sight--and suddenly the car was flipping off of the road and into the black mouth of the woods. I heard a horrible, screeching sound--metal on metal, glass shattering, a car folding in two--and smelled fire. I had time to wonder whether Lindsay had put her cigarette out. Then Vicky Hallinan's face came rising out of the past. I heard laughter echoing and rolling all around me, swelling into a scream. Then nothing.

  Be sure to check out more books by Lauren Oliver!

Lauren Oliver comes from a family of writers and so has always (mistakenly) believed that spending hours in front of the computer every day, mulling over the difference between “chortling” and “chuckling,” is normal. She has always been an avid reader.

She attended the University of Chicago, where she continued to be as impractical as possible by majoring in philosophy and literature. After college, she attended the MFA program at NYU and worked briefly as the world’s worst editorial assistant, and only marginally better assistant editor, at a major publishing house in New York. Her major career contributions during this time were flouting the corporate dress code at every possible turn and repeatedly breaking the printer. Before I Fall is her first published novel.

She is deeply grateful for the chance to continue writing, as she has never been particularly good at anything else.

To learn more about Lauren Oliver and her books, visit her website. You can also find her on Goodreads, Twitter, and Facebook.