#dreamy sigh. i wish she was real so i could paint her nails

[danothan]

I FINALLY HAVE GREEN CLAWS OHHH JOY IN THE WORLD!!! 💚💚💚

after months of growing them out and searching for the right polish, i finally have the nails of my dreams,,, YIPPEE!!!

[color: dnd aurora green in gel]

[yandere-wishes]

🕌 A Whole New World // Yandere Kalim Al-Asim x Reader//🕌

Worst thing I’ve ever written 😭  😭 😭 😭 But it’s out before the new chapter so I’m content lol.

 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌 🕌

"Oh my isn't it amazing?" (y/n) hugged the book closer to her chest an excited squeal leaving her lips as she laid down flat on the plush Persian carpet. Kalim crawled over to where she was abandoning his conversation with Jamil and half-eaten sandwich. "What'cha reading," the young prince asked curiously. 

(y/n) lazily cracked open an eye, her bright smile ever-present. "It's the 1001 Arabian nights! The one by that famous storyteller from the Land of Hot Sands! " Her voice held a dreamy tone. Kalim's eyes widen in some sort of foreign comprehension. Nostalgia flashed in his marigold orbs. "Jamil! Do you remember those stories from when we were little?" His head wiped around, eyeing his childhood friend. The black-haired youth-only nodded absentmindedly as he chewed on his sandwich. "Jamil use to read me one of the Arabian night's stories before I went to bed each night!" Jamil just hummed in agreement, he seemed too wrapped up in intentionally ignoring the conversation. 

Kalim flopped on his back, arms pulled back acting as a pillow. His eyes never once left your frame, his piercing gaze was practically glued to your body. "SO~~ Which one is your favorite?" his tone was light and cheerful, he just seemed so oddly happy. Brushing it off you guessed it might have just been the sentimentality talking. Mentioning those old stories must have stirred some childhood reminiscence. Your eyelids fluttered downwards, closing in thought as your mind raced through the countless stories you had consumed throughout the day. But there was one that seemed to shine rather brightly in your head.

"I guess the lovers of Bassorah, there's just a sort of hopeful ring to the whole story...It's hard to explain but it kinda proves that true love isn't just an open pathway. There are numerous difficulties that lovers must face before they can hold each other in their arms." When you finally opened your eyes again, you noticed that Kalim's grin had been replaced with a quizzical look.  His eyes scrunched, traversing between you and Jamil. Signing the older boy, he finally shuffled over to the two of you. He crossed his leg before explaining the story to Kalim. Realization dawned on the white-haired boy, you listened in wondering if Jamil had actually memorized the old folk tale. But as the story progressed there seemed something off about Jamil's retelling, something gritter, grimmer even...It was wrong, so wrong that it sent a flood of shivers up your spin. But a quick glance at Kalim made it obvious that the prince was not only undisturbed by the fables 

The sun had started to die quite some time ago. The sky was painted in bright melting colors that seemed to resemble sugary sweets. Jamil and (y/n) had started packing up the little picnic while Kalim sat and watched. His red eyes followed (y/n) as she nimbly picked up the plates and leftover food. She was so breathtaking, so enchanting, something about the way she moved and talked had poor little Kalim bewitched. He couldn't help the fantasies that kept sprouting in his mind. The longing to hug you close to his chest, to feel your warmth, breath in your scent.  He could imagine them so vividly that they were practically felt real. 

With a heavy sigh Kalim waved good-bye as the young girl walked away to her dorm room, book pressed close to her heart. 

Kalim watched with a  downhearted look as the last rays of sunlight screamed for help before being engulfed by the darkness of the night. Every couple of moments the young prince would tear his gaze from the starry tapestry to throw a childish lovesick complain to his childhood friend -who's body was beginning to tremble with visible annoyance- each nag circulated around the same premiss. "Why doesn't (y/n) love me?" over and over and over again. Really Kalim didn't mean to be a bother he was so wrapped up in his sorrow that he could bother to remember what words had slipped from his lips moments ago. It was well into the late-night when Kalim turned once more to Jamil his shoulders slumped, poster slagging. His mouth opened, but before any words could escape into the large room. Jamil stood up, feet stomping on the rug under him. Angrily Jamil marched over to Kalim his arms swinging before grabbing ahold of Kalim's shoulders. His long nails dug into the royal's shoulders. "Listen Kalim, I'm getting sick of this puppy crush of yours! Can you please just forget--" Jamil stopped mid-sentence, his grey eyes widening as a plan hatched in his mind, slithering around the most devious parts of his brain. A smirk formed on his chapped lips, "Kalim!" His excited tone reverberated off the walls. "Grab the flying carpet! We're going to get you a date!" Jamil ran for the door, picking up the dorm leader staff on his way. Kalim watched his friend race out the room, he remained stunned for a second before he ran after Jamil yelling; "But where do we keep the flying carpets?? Jamil! Help!" 

The cool night air washed over you, as you stood by the window, brush in hand, combing your messy locks. Your eyes carelessly jumped from star to star, soaking in their twinkling brightness. Each star seemed to sparkle a little more vividly when your gaze landed on it. It was almost like they were silently wishing you goodnight....or warning you about the secrets the night was hiding. 

You were shaken from your stargazing by the sound of a slamming door. You didn't think much of it, brushing it off as just being one your friends sneaking in for a late-night chat. Casually you turned around, only to be stricken by a wave of fear, slither across your lavish dorm room, was something out of a nightmare. A larger then life serpent was bolting for you, it's scales glittered in the chandelier light, flashing between shades of gold and ruby sometimes even turning as pitch black as a starless midnight. Its tongue flickered out sniffing the air then crashing back between its lips. For a fraction of a second, your eyes met, the monstrous snakes grey orbs seemed to be mocking you. You were sure that if he was able the monster would have been laughing at your distress. 

With each step you took in retaliation, the snake slithers forward, it's towering body was constantly looming over your petit frame. You were pushed up against the open window, no place left to hide. The snake was far to close, it's tongue grazed your cheek each time it darted outwards. You were finished, hopelessness was to the only feeling that floated through your body. You closed your eyes, ready to accept your fate. That was until a gust of cold wind blew across your face, carrying with it the sound of your name. At first, you kept your eyes closed, blaming it on your subconscious. But the noise of your name kept coming back to your ears. Finally, in a desperate attempt, you dared to turn away from the snake and spare a glance outside. Your eyes widen, hope bubbled in your gut. Standing outside your window floating on one of the infamous flying carpets was nonother than the dorm leader of Scarabia. 

"(y/n)!" his voice was like a god sent, pure melody to your ears. "Do you trust me?" His hand was extended palm awaiting your own hand. You didn't think for a moment, instantly you reached out and grabbed his arm, permitting yourself to be dragged out the glass-less window. Your knees hit the concrete of the outer wall as you tumbled onto the flying carpet. The carpet didn't miss a beat, the second your flesh hit the rug, it was off soaring into the dark night. 

The icy wind blew across your face, your body was pressed suffocatingly close to Kalim's as he navigated the flying tool across the clouds. Your heart was still pounding in fear, each beat reverberated through your bones adding an additional layer of panic. The hight and constant maneuvering of the carpet did little to ease your stress. Nether you nor Kalim had spoken since the journey began. You bite your lip waiting for him to make the first move. To say something, anything! However, what ended up breaking the silence was rather unexpected joyous laughter coming from your companion. "That was a pretty convincing show that Jamil put on wasn't it (y/n)?" there was no malice in his tone if anything it came off more as if this was all a game. A young child laughing after a good game of hiding and seek.

You turned to Kalim with a shock written all over your face. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT! I JUST GOT ATTACKED..." Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs where heaving trying to pull in more oxygen to no avail. It only now began to dawn on you just how high up the two of you had gotten. Kalim must have also been facing the same problem as the leaned his weight to the front of the carpet, causing it to accelerate downwards. You let out a shrike of terror, arms wrapping around the white-haired youth. "that’s overexaggerated, it’s really isn’t that big of a deal”

Your eyes widened how could he not think that this was a big deal. It didn't matter wither that snake was really Jamil or not, the shock was real, the fear was real. "Is this some sort of cruel joke!" you yelled. Kalim shot you a confused look, one of his hands reached up to entwine his fingers in your flowing locks. “But I thought you said this kinda thing was hot!“ Kalim genuinely sounded both hurt and confused. His eyes were pooled with deep sadness. You gulped "What are you--" your memory flashed back to the stories the two of you had discussed earlier that morning. In each story, the protagonist had to stage some sort of clever catastrophe to earn their lover's affection. In multiple stories, the hero always lore their lover into some sort of danger then swoop in and save them. That was had happened, Kalim had tried to show you that he loved you by both putting your life in danger and saving it. "Kamil look I--" He pushed a finger to your lips, shushing you wordlessly " Stop pretending you don't want this, you and I, we're meant to be so just for tonight let's pretend we’re the only people in the world". For the second time, that night uneasiness overflooded your sense, but in an impulsive fit of bravery and longing, you waved it off. Nodding as you wrapped your arms tighter around Kalim's waist, enjoying the scenery of the sand dons and the sweet flowery scent that came from Kalim. 

You weren't sure when it had happened but at some point, the melody of the breeze along with the peaceful silence had lulled you into a tranquil slumber. You were stirred from your sleep by the rays of the rising sun. Slowly you pushed yourself up, there was something off about the bed you where laying on, somehow it felt much plusher than your own bed. As you attempted to turn you felt a sharp pain pulling you back onto the mattress. You moved around tugging your arms forward only to see the metal cuffs, orienting your wrists... something had happened during that carpet ride, what it was exactly you weren't sure. But you knew that you would soon get your explanation once Kalim returned. 

In one of the rooms in  Scarabia, a bloodcurdling scream could be heard. Blood trickled down Kalim's arm. dripping onto the carpets and oozing into the seems. Joyfully Kalim spun around, droplets of the crimson liquid flying off in all directions. Jamil sighed as he began dragging the body. "stop making a mess Kalim. Don't you think it was wrong to kill the boy? He was just a friend of (y/n)'s, nothing more." The white-haired royal stopped to look at his friend, a bright smile plastered across his face. “Nothing we do will ever be wrong if it's for (y/n)! She can't have anyone else but us in her life! They'll just be distractions!" Jamil rolled his eyes as he continued pulling the lifeless corps out into the balcony to be turned to dust. All the while Kalim skipped behind him joyfully humming some old tune and dreaming about his awaiting darling. 

[tenroseforeverandever]

Double Blind

Characters: Rose Tyler; Tenth Doctor; Reinette; Adam Mitchell

Tags: AU - human; blind date; fluff; romance; humour

Summary: Rose Tyler has been set up on a blind date with a bloke she’s having a lot of misgivings about, but when he arrives, she finds he isn’t anything like she expected him to be.

Notes: This was written as part of a Classic Trope challenge on the Doctor x Rose Discord group. I got “Blind Date”. The story was actually inspired by one of the cute little stories on my French course on DuoLingo! To my brilliant beta team, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci, my undying gratitude, as always. You got me on the right track more than a few times, and with the amazing @aintfraidanoghosts, you helped me plan out the rough patches. My love to you all! 

Read also at: AO3; FF.net; TSP

Double Blind

Rose Tyler shifted in her seat and straightened the pale blue rose on the white table linens for the umpteenth time. She glanced covertly at the other tables around her: men and women dressed in nice suits and fine fabrics, eating meticulously presented food from china plates. Rose wriggled again, brushing invisible motes of lint from the cuffs of her white blouse, hoping she looked presentable. She told herself she couldn’t look too terribly out of place; the maître ’d hadn’t blinked an eye. 

She had never set foot inside a restaurant this upscale before. They didn’t have posh spots like this near the Powell Estate. But the French restaurant, Révélations, was where her date had insisted they meet. He’d texted her instructions to place a blue rose on the table in front of her so he could identify her when he arrived. The idea of the rose was obvious (her name) and the blue was, according to him, for hope that their date would be “just the first of many”. He hadn’t liked the idea of exchanging photos, which would have made identifying each other simple. He’d informed her that “a blind date is a blind date” and he wanted “to meet without any preconceived notions” or some rubbish like that. But Rose already had preconceived the notion that this bloke was a bit too sure of himself. It was just a bloody first date, after all, blind or not. He sounded like he was already practically planning their wedding.

She sighed, not for the first time over the last few days. Her friend, Shareen… actually Shareen’s new boyfriend whom Rose had never even met… had arranged this date: a bloke, named Adam Mitchell, whom he knew from the research labs at the Uni. The bloke had allegedly returned from college in the United States to do Post-Doctoral research on some hopelessly science-y subject Rose could barely even pronounce the name of. Why Shareen (or, more to the point, Shareen’s mysterious boyfriend…) had ever thought he would be a good match for her, Rose didn’t understand. She didn’t even have any A-levels to her name, and she worked in a shop, for God’s sake.

On top of that, if she was being honest, Adam had rubbed her a bit the wrong way with the dictatorial tone of his texts to her. It wasn’t an auspicious beginning.

“The last thing I need in my life right now,” she’d told Shareen in no uncertain terms, “is another condescending, controlling… shite boyfriend. Besides, I only just got rid of Jimmy. I really don’t think I’m ready for any sort of boyfriend.”

Shareen had scoffed. “But this isn’t Jimmy. This one actually has a real, functioning brain, and he has a proper career lined up. He has money, babe; he can look after you.”

“What? I’m supposed to be some kept woman? You sound like my flippin’ mum.”

It had taken some convincing, but eventually, Rose had tired of Shareen’s whinging, and capitulated, agreeing to go on this bloody date, despite her misgivings.

And here she sat, waiting for Adam to arrive, incessantly rearranging her stupid blue rose and terrified to order anything more than a glass of still water lest it bankrupt her. She felt like she’d been waiting forever but when she glanced at the time on her mobile, wondering if she’d been stood up, it turned out he wasn’t late… yet. Rose couldn’t decide if she should be relieved or disappointed.

After another five minutes of jittering her leg under the table linens and trying desperately not to bite her nails, she decided to pack it in. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want… this. She gathered her handbag from the floor by her feet, and made to stand, but stopped half-way. From the lobby, with the maître d’ standing next to him, appeared a tall, slender man a few years older than her. She observed him carefully for signs that he might be Adam: he had brown hair and eyes (check) and was wearing a suit and a tie adorned with blue flowers (check, again.)

So far so good.

Although, she had to admit, the overall image wasn’t quite what she’d expected from Adam, based on the tone of his texts to her. Somehow, she’d been expecting the brown hair to be carefully combed into place, not a delicious, expertly tousled mop that practically invited her to run her fingers through it. And the suit was a bit more casual than the “business casual” she’d been anticipating: rumpled brown with pinstripes; tie carelessly loosened from the confines of his collar; and a pair of battered, cream-coloured Converse on his feet, in place of dress shoes. Based on his tone, she’d thought Adam would have been more… put-together and formal.

Her heart dropped. It couldn’t be him. Loads of people had brown hair and eyes, and the tie… easily a coincidence. Besides, while she’d been told Adam was good-looking, this bloke was positively fit!

She watched with bated breath as he glanced around the restaurant. Her heart did a little flip when his eyes settled on the rose in front of her. Then his gaze lifted to hers and his face erupted into a wide, toothy grin. Rose’s breath caught and she immediately plonked back down into her seat.

She amended her first assessment: he wasn’t just fit; he was drop-dead, bloody gorgeous.

The man waved off the maître d’, who remained hovering behind him, and stepped toward Rose’s table. “Hello.” He continued to beam stupidly at her.

She figured her expression was equally ridiculous as she grinned back in a dreamy haze. “Hello.”

“The blue flower…” He nodded toward the rose in a soft Estuary accent that made her feel all gooey inside.

“Yeah. And the, erm… the tie,” she managed.

“The tie? Oh… yes, it’s one of my favourites. Love the tie. Erm…” he gestured to the empty chair across from her, “…may I?”

“Oh, God, sorry! Of course.”

He sat down and put his elbows on the table and leaned toward her. “So…”

“So…” Rose giggled (blimey, she wasn’t normally the giggly sort…), then pulled herself together. “So, you’re doing post-doctoral work at the Uni, yeah? On what was it, again?”

“Quantum and Temporal Physics.”

Rose gulped, really wishing she’d never let Jimmy-bloody-Stone manipulate her into dropping out of high school. Not that A-level anything would help her much in this situation, but at least she might have stood a chance. “Yeah, I thought it was something like that…”

“Fascinating field, really. My research is based on the premise that space and time are fundamentally linked at quantum level and that if we can travel on any trajectory through one, we should also be able to travel on any trajectory through the other. It’s just a matter of applying…” he rattled on, gesticulating with his hands. (He had lovely, long fingers, Rose mused dreamily, quite happy to listen to the cadence of his voice and imagine all the things those fingers could do.) “…and realigning the quantum matrices. You see, people assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint…” He trailed off. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”

“Just a bit, yeah.” She chuckled but her cheeks burned. “My brain checked out somewhere back around when you said, ‘space and time’.”

He cast her an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry. I do this all the time. Donna, that’s my cousin, she calls me a great, big outer space dunce. I keep forgetting that not everyone is a genius, like me.” He sniffed and straightened his tie.

Rose arched her eyebrow at him. Okay, now this was more the Adam Mitchell she’d been expecting: a bit of a pretentious git.

“Oh, no! Sorry, so sorry! I’ve mucked it up again. I just meant… weeell, I am very clever, but I don’t mean that I think I’m better than other people… I just know things, I suppose. And I get excited and like to talk about them because I want to share my knowledge… and as Donna pointed out, I’m also a dunce.”

Rose’s heart swelled with sudden affection. He wasn’t being pretentious after all; he was just being… forthright, sweet.

“And getting back to what I really meant to say, earlier,” he blurted, “all that gobbledygook about time… it’s really just a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey… stuff.” 

Rose laughed. “Now that’s some science I can get my head around!”

He beamed at her again, his relief evident. “So, what do you do?”

Rose’s cheeks heated again. “Oh, me?” She averted her eyes, dreading the disappointment she would surely see settle on his face, but she supposed it was better she was upfront about it. “I’m just working in a shop… Henrick’s.”

“Oooooh, posh.” He waggled his eyebrows, setting her off giggling again. “I commend you. Not just anyone can handle rude customers all day. I bet you get some doozies in there!”

Bemused, Rose could only nod in agreement.

“I’d end up shouting at them and get fired the same day.”

“I feel like that too, sometimes, but I’ve learned to handle it, I guess. I’m top sales, every month.”

“Oh, well done! Brilliant!” He seemed genuinely proud of her achievement. There was no sarcasm in his tone or delivery, just open enthusiasm.

“But I really want to go back and get my A-levels,” she insisted, feeling she had to defend herself. “I was good at English and French back in school… and Art! I used to love painting!”

“I reiterate: brilliant! You should do just that if it’s what you want. What sort of things–”

The waiter stepped up to their table at that moment to offer them menus and tell them about the specials of the day. Rose listened intently. The food all sounded very opulent, and was probably delicious, but she didn’t have a clue what half of it was. She did her best to keep up, nodding politely and making interested noises at appropriate points.

“May I offer you something to drink while you peruse the menu?” the waiter offered.

“Oh, erm…” Rose stammered. What she really wanted was to order a pint, but she didn’t think that would go over too well at Révélations. And she didn’t want to order anything too expensive…  “I’d love a glass of red wine.”

“We have a lovely selection of fine house wines for you to choose from.” The waiter opened the wine menu and pointed to the appropriate section.

Rose bit her lower lip, the words swimming before her eyes, and her heart somersaulting around her chest. “I… erm…” She glanced over to Adam, who was watching her with slightly narrowed eyes. She couldn’t help thinking he was sizing her up… and she was failing. Then his expression softened, and he offered her a compassionate smile.

“Oooh, a glass of red sounds good. How about we just order a bottle?”

Rose nodded fervently.

“What do you recommend?” he asked the waiter.

When the wine was selected and the waiter had finally left, Rose opened her menu and pretended to read over the selections. She glanced shyly up at Adam from beneath her fringe. He too, was engrossed in the menu. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t thank me yet.” His eyes met hers, sparkling with amusement. “We can only hope our waiter chose a nice wine for us. Aaand, speak of the devil…”

The waiter reappeared, opened the wine, and poured a little into each of their glasses to taste. Rose held the glass to her lips, hesitantly taking a small sip. She hummed her appreciation as the fruity flavour exploded over her tongue.

Adam was decidedly less reserved in his approach. With a flourish of his eyebrows at Rose and a quirk of a smile, he swirled the liquid around his glass, and sniffed it intently. (The show-off!) “Ahhh… that’s lovely. And do I detect… NO! It can’t be? Is that an overtone of... bananas?” He winked at Rose.

“Bananas, sir?” The waiter goggled at him. “I… erm… bananas?”

Rose clapped her hand over her mouth to hold back the bark of laughter building in her throat.

“Oh, I love bananas!” Adam cheered. “Always bring a banana to a party. And if you can’t do that, find a brilliant wine with overtones of bananas! This is lovely, don’t you think?” he addressed Rose.

“Lovely, yeah,” she agreed.

“Pour away, my good man!”

As the poor, perplexed waiter filled their glasses, he asked: “Have you had a chance to view the menu?”

Rose met Adam’s eyes and gave a little shake of her head. He turned to the waiter. “A few more minutes, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ll come back in a little while.”

As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, Rose couldn’t contain herself any longer: “Oh my God! Bananas?!”

“Oh, I thought he needed to lighten up a bit. This place is all a bit hoity-toity, in my opinion.” His eyes suddenly widened. “I hope you don’t mind…”

“Are you kidding? That was the best thing I’ve heard all week. The look on his face!”

“I know!”

They did nothing but grin stupidly at each other over sips of their wine for a few minutes, breaking into hopeless giggles every so often.

Adam took a deep breath and a gulp of wine. “So,” he asked, returning the subject to their earlier conversation, “back to school, eh? Is that something you’d want to do?”

“I think so, yeah. I want to at least be able to say I got my A-levels. I let a boy convince me I didn’t need them, and it was the worst decision I’ve ever made. I feel like… I dunno, it would be like taking my life back.”

He offered her a warm smile. “Well, good for you! And then… uni?”

“Maybe… who knows? Would that matter?” She worried the corner of her lower lip between her teeth. Despite her hesitancy to come on this date, she was really liking this bloke. She could see herself spending more time with him… if he were amenable. ‘Course she wouldn’t let on to Shareen. Shareen would be insufferable.

“What? No! Of course not! Uni is not the be-all and end-all. There are so many other avenues to pursue if that’s what you want. It was right for me, obviously, but…weeell…” he tugged on his ear, “you certainly don’t need my approval.”

Rose offered him a grateful little smile and ducked her head. She sighed happily. “What I’d really love to do, first, is take a year or so and just travel. Explore the world.”

“Oh, I’d love to travel too! I’ve spent so long at school. I mean I’ve studied in the States, but I never really had much chance to look around, to explore. I love to explore!”

“Me too! I’ve never been anywhere ‘cept when me and mum used to cram into Cousin Mo’s old car and drive to a beach in Dorset for a few days on the summer hols. Mum must have gotten sick of my whinging. She finally left me behind when I was fourteen. Blimey, she and Mo must have had a grand ol’ time without me taggin’ along.”

They both laughed.

“Where would you go,” she asked, “if you could choose?”

“Oh, I rather like the idea of blindfolding myself and throwing a dart at a map of the world. Seeing where the wind takes me.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect! But, on your own?” Rose blurted out the words, not thinking through how they would sound. He would probably think she was inviting herself along on this imaginary trip they were planning. Bloody hell, she’d not known him for more than twenty minutes.

He shrugged, his cheerful expression crumbling a bit around the edges. “There is no one else… not really…” His fringe fell over his face as he pointedly turned his eyes to the menu.

There was history there, and Rose wanted to learn more, but in this moment she just wanted to be there for him. She found herself dismissing any worries about being too forward, and impulsively, she reached across the table and rested her hand over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “There’s me.” She licked her lips as his hand twitched under hers, sure he was going to pull it away.

Instead, he flipped his over so their palms were touching. A zing of something bloody brilliant coursed through her, and as their eyes met, she knew he felt it too, a shared energy. It felt so right. She swore she could feel the turn of the Earth, the ground under her feet spinning at a thousand miles an hour, like she was falling through space.

Stunned by the feelings exploding inside her, she opened her menu to divert her mind. Glancing up she saw Adam was doing the same.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed, their hands still touching; it seemed neither of them was willing to break the link between them. Finally, Adam spoke, gesturing to the menu, “So, what do you like, Reinette? It’s my first time here; I was hoping you could tell me what’s good.”

Rose let his words sink in. What was he on about? Hadn’t he selected this restaurant? Was this some sort of test? Frowning, she slid her hand from his. “It’s my first time here, too… Wait!” She pursed her lips as she processed his words. “Did you just call me… Reinette?”

His eyes bulged, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe. “Oh, blimey! You aren’t…?” He ran a desperate hand through his hair. “I take it you’re not Reinette, then?”

Rose chuckled, shaking her head. “Never heard of her. And I’ll wager your name’s not Adam?”

“Adam?” He frantically ruffled his hair again. “Blimey! No, I go by Jonathan Noble.”

“Nice to meet ya, Jonathan Noble. Rose Tyler.”

“Rose Tyler, eh? Roooose Tyler. I have to admit, I like the sound of that. It suits you much better than Reinette. Aaaand, it goes a long way to explaining why you weren’t quite what I was expecting… Turns out, I wasn’t expecting you at all. I was expecting… well, Reinette, who I have to admit,” his voice dropped to a confidential whisper as he leaned across the table toward Rose, “seemed a little full of herself… a bit la-di-da, if you know what I mean?”

“Don’t I just,” she whispered back. “I got the same vibes from Adam. And then you… you seemed so…” she chewed on the corner of her finger, “…so… I dunno. We just seemed to click, yeah?”

He beamed. “Oh, yes! You know, looking back, now… I was a little surprised when you didn’t know what wine to order. I assumed Reinette was the sort that would be able to rattle on about fine wines until she was blue in the face.”

“I know! I kinda had the same experience with you… just the way you were dressed, yeah. I was expecting something a little more… proper, I guess.” His smile faltered and she felt a little rush of panic. “Oh, God! No, no! I didn’t mean…  I love this, what you’re wearing. It’s comfortable and, erm… approachable. It really suits you.”

“You think?” He flushed and tugged on his ear, his eyes filling with hope.

“Oh, yeah! And the Chucks… inspired!”

Rose glanced up past Jonathan’s shoulder, distracted by a woman who had just arrived and was putting up a bit of a fuss to the maître d’. “Erm, Jonathan…” she asked, trying to come off as casual, “…what made you think I was this Reinette-person?”

“Well, I was told to look for a beautiful blonde. And she told me she would have a blue flower… a lily! She’s originally from France. A blue lily! Oh…” He glanced down at Rose’s flower, lying beside her napkin, his mouth dropping open.  “Erm… you have a… a rose. Some genius I am, eh?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, easy mistake to make. I mean, what are the odds: specifically a blue flower? But...” she grimaced, nodding toward the reception area, “I’m afraid the real Reinette might have just arrived.”

Jonathan spun around in his chair and Rose followed the path of his eyes. The woman sniping at the maître d’ was a striking blonde, dressed in a chic, expensive-looking pantsuit. She was holding a blue lily and peering around the dining room.

Rose’s heart plummeted. She would never be able to compete with such a beautiful, sophisticated woman. What would a genius like Jonathan Noble ever want with a chav from an estate in Peckham, when he could have the likes of Reinette? She picked up her handbag and swept her blue rose into it. “Thanks for being so nice, Jonathan, but it seems your date has arrived.” She offered him a tight smile as she stood to leave.

“What? What? No, no, no! Please stay… Rose Tyler.” Her name rolled deliciously off his tongue again and he begged her with big, sad, puppy-dog eyes. And then there was his delectable, pouting lower lip… oh, wouldn’t she just love to kiss that lip?

“I… I can’t. It’s not right. I mean she’s so… you know… and I’m not...”

“Please? Rose? I was enjoying talking to you; really, properly enjoying it!”

“Yeah?”

“Yup,” he assured her with a little impatient nod. “Sit, please.”

Rose hesitated.

“Please.”

“Oh, all right!” If this lovely man wanted to finish this date with her, who was she to argue. They really had been getting along very well, after all. That energy between them when they’d held hands… she’d felt a connection with him like nothing she’d never experienced  before. A delightful shiver ran down her spine at the memory.

“By the way,” Jonathan asked as she settled herself again, “what made you think I was Adam? Was it the tie?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s just you mentioned it when I first arrived.”

“Oh, right,” Rose laughed. “Well, you obviously were looking for the flower too… but you – I mean he – told me he’d be wearing a tie with blue flowers on it. And there you were: tie with blue flowers. The two clues together…”

“Pure coincidence.” He winked. “I’d even venture to call it serendipitous, and I don’t generally believe in luck.”

“Oh, you don’t even know me yet.” Rose flashed him a toothy grin. “I could bring you nothing but misfortune, you never know.”

He dragged his gaze up from where the tip of her tongue teased him from the corner of her smile to meet her eyes. “Oh no, Rose Tyler, you have already saved me from a fate worse than death.” He nodded to Reinette who was currently flouncing through the restaurant, probably looking for him.

Rose bit her lip, stifling yet another giggle. “I haven’t saved you yet. Look out! She’s headed this way.”

“Oh, if I believe in one thing, I believe in you.” He reached over the table to squeeze her hand. “You’ll save me. You are my lucky pants.”

“Your what?” Unable to contain herself any longer, she burst into a full belly-laugh, but she gulped it back quickly as Reinette swept up to their table.

“Excuse me?” Reinette spoke with a light but haughty French accent and gave Rose a critical once-over before turning her attention to Jonathan. “Are you Jonathan Noble?”

Jonathan offered the woman a perplexed frown. “You must be mistaken. My name is… erm…” he scrubbed at the back of his neck, “…Adam.”

Reinette pursed her lips, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “So, this means nothing to you, then?” With a flourish she showed him the lily.

“Oh, weeell, it’s a lovely flower… but, no…”

Reinette’s narrowed gaze flicked between the two of them, and Rose offered her a polite smile. With a harrumph, she moved away from their table to continue her search.

“Dodged that bullet!” Jonathan told Rose.

“Well, at least you didn’t get stood up.” Rose rolled her eyes, wondering what had happened to the real Adam.

“His loss. And my good fortune! See? You are my lucky pants.”

She shook her head. “You’re daft, you are! I guess we should take a look at these menus, yeah?”

He spent a few seconds flipping through the pages of the menu, then he sighed. “Actually… I know the wine is lovely – overtones of bananas and all – but since neither of us chose this restaurant, what do you say we pay for the wine and find somewhere else to eat. That is, if you want?”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. “I know a really great pub not far from here that’s a little more my scene. They brew their own and they make the best fish and chips. I want chips.”

“Me too! Sounds brilliant. Shall we?”

Standing, she nodded fervently, and he threw some bills on the table to cover the cost of the wine, then offered her his elbow. She blushed, accepting his arm.

“Allons-y!” he chirped.

As they made their way to the maître d’ to offer their apologies, Reinette stormed up to them. “You lied to me! You are Jonathan Noble.” Her beautiful face was contorted in fury and she pointed adamantly at his shoes. “You told me you’d be wearing Converse with your… ahem…” she curled her lip, “...suit.”

“Weeell…” Jonathan’s shoulders tensed, and Rose could only hold her breath, waiting to see how he would respond. He flourished the arm that wasn’t linked with hers. “You got me! I admit. I lied. It seems there was a case of mistaken identity, two blind dates that got muddled up, and weeeell… Rose and I rather hit it off.” He was going for the honest approach, and Rose was quietly relieved.

Reinette, however, was livid! “Ridiculous!”

“I’m sorry,” Rose added, feeling the need to back Jonathan up. “He really did think I was you. We both had a blue flower, you see…”

Reinette snarled at Rose, then whipped around to face Jonathan. “I do not get… stood up! I insist you have dinner with me!”

Rose was distracted from Jonathan’s terse response by the insistent buzzing of her mobile with multiple incoming texts. She dropped his arm and scrambled in her handbag, finally finding the phone at the very bottom. The screen was lit up with no fewer than five notifications from Adam. It seemed he was running rather late, but told Rose, in no uncertain terms, that he expected her to wait for him.

“I’m worth the wait,” read his final text, followed by winky and aubergine emojis.

Rose rolled her eyes and fought her gag reflex. There was no bloody way she was going to wait for that tosser. And she was going to be having a few sharp words with Shareen about her (and her boyfriend’s) concept of what her ideal date looked like.

As it turned out, Rose thought as her eyes settled fondly on Jonathan, she had a pretty good picture of exactly what her ideal date looked like. And unfortunately, right now, he wasn’t faring well in his battle with Reinette. It was time for her to rescue him one more time.

“Tell ya what, Reinette,” she cut into the other woman’s rant, “a young man named Adam Mitchell is on his way here… right now. He’ll be wearing a tie with blue flowers and he’ll be expecting his date to have one of these...” She pulled the blue rose from her handbag and thrust it at the stunned Reinette. “Oh, and I don’t think he believes anyone could ever stand him up either, so you should get along famously.” 

With that, she slipped her hand into Jonathan’s, and as one, they turned toward the door and pushed it open. As they burst onto the pavement, they nearly knocked over a dark-haired young man, wearing a tie with gaudy blue flowers all over it.

“Oi!” he barked as they sputtered half-hearted apologies and hurried along the pavement.

“Was that…?” Jonathan started.

“Adam?” Rose finished for him. “Yeah, I think it must have been.” Their eyes met and they erupted into laughter and looked back over their shoulders to find Reinette and (presumably) Adam fuming in the doorway of the restaurant.

Gripping Jonathan’s hand tighter, Rose grinned up at him. “Run!” she shouted.

“Oh, yes!” he cheered as they took off at a sprint.

As she ran hand in hand with Jonathan, Rose felt as though she had something to look forward to for the first time in a long time. She had walked into Révélations dreading the evening ahead, but a simple mix-up had turned her blind date into a matter of pure blind luck. Now she was running toward a future full of promise and opportunity, a future she rather suspected Jonathan Noble would be a significant part of. 

She grinned. It was going to be fantastic.

[emikvs]

SIDE EFFECTS MAY VARY. PLEASE CONSULT A DOCTOR BEFORE TAKING ANY MEDICATION....

                    september 14th, 2018    10:55 p.m.    los angeles, california    ocean view recovery center

                             journal entry #1. apparently i have to write these everyday, can you believe that? literally who am i talking to. dear therapist reading this, i think you’re stinky and a nosy piece of shit. ok that was mean. not a piece of shit, but the tie you wear kinda makes you look like an asshole. you kinda look like the old dudes that hang around my dad at political fundraisers. guess that’s why he picked this place, huh? but for real, i hope you don’t wear that tie again. it upsets me. you guys are supposed to care about that stuff right? if i’m upset? well i have some more to complain about. dinner today was okay. i give it a 6/10 stars. okay, maybe it would have gotten a 7 if you didn’t give me green jello. not even red jello.....but green. i can’t even begin to describe how much that upsets me. even the hospitals know better. fuck. i really wish i was high. 

                         october 29th, 2018    10:13 a.m.    los angeles, california    ocean view recovery center

                             journal entry #45. some of the people here are really weird. i can’t tell if they’re celebrities or not when everyone starts whispering around them, or if they’re just really fucking weird and that’s why everyone is whispering.  i will get to the bottom of this. also, i just want to say i think it’s very unfair you keep asking me about my dad when i know he did some not so legal stuff to get me here and out of school without penalty. doesn’t that make this center an accomplice? i’m not sure how it works, but what i’m trying to say is it seems a bit unfair on my end for you to be trying to act all professional and stuff when i know you aren’t. ask me about anything else. maybe drugs? isn’t that why i’m in rehab? whatever. there were oranges at breakfast today. i liked that. 

                        december 25th, 2018    8:05 p.m.    los angeles, california    ocean view recovery center

                            journal entry #102. merry christmas! i think i’m finally remembering just how miserable it is to be sober. i know, not what you wanna hear, but for the sake of honesty i’ll go on. it’s not that i miss the drugs, exactly. i just miss being happy. that warm fuzzy kind of happy where i can’t feel anything. my brain doesn’t know how to do that without drugs. i don’t think it ever did. wanna know a fun fact? i never liked christmas very much as a kid. i though santa was a real asshole. all my life my parents would warn us about bad men that break into homes and how they were dirty criminals, but this red suit motherfucker gets a free pass because he leaves us presents? i didn’t get it. i thought santa was a bad guy. so one christmas, i think i was six, i stayed up. i waited for my sister to go to sleep and then i snuck out of our room to use the phone in the kitchen and i called 911. i told them someone was breaking into my house. naturally the cops showed up. i mean, you get a 911 call from a kid i guess you assume their parents are being held at gunpoint or something, i don’t know. but they took it seriously because they showed up to our house even though it was christmas and it was snowing. and i remember being so furious that santa hadn’t shown up. i was throwing a fit, crying and stuff. and my mom must have thought i was sad because there were no presents under the tree because all of a sudden she’s telling me that santa isn’t real, that daddy is the one who leaves the presents under the tree. that was my moment, the one people always talk about, when you figure out your parents are just people. that they kinda suck just like everybody else. i wish it was snowing here. i like the snow. it makes things quiet. 

                                   may 7th, 2019    2:34 p.m.    los angeles, california    ocean view recovery center

                           goodbye journal. goodbye ocean view. goodbye nosy (not a piece of shit)  therapist. don’t hate me, but i bought you a tie. it’s got cats on it. nobody will mistake you for an asshole ever again if you’ve got cats on your tie. you can thank me the next time i overdose and have to check back in. (i’m kidding) 

                                  CAUTION. SIDE EFFECTS  MAY INCLUDE...

september 9th, 2019    2:33 a.m.     charlottesville , virginia    university of virginia                           

                          dizzy ––––– she’s dizzy and she wishes she could blame it on the molly she’d stolen from cynthia, the molly she’d swallowed dry when she’d slipped out of sage’s apartment while everyone had been too distracted to notice, but she figures it’s all the other shit that’s got her legs literally shaking. plus it’s been a couple of hours now, and emiko really doesn’t think she’s high anymore. there’s too much noise inside her head. too many thoughts. she’s sweating despite the chill in the air, fall kissing summer as it says goodbye, the breeze blowing strands of dark hair into her face as she walks across a mostly empty campus. for a moment she’s tempted to take her shoes off. not for any particular reason, except maybe the hope that the action of curling her toes into solid ground might be enough to remind her that she was attached to her body still, her mind playing tricks. shadows dancing at the corners of her vision, the wind rustling through the trees sounding like voices ––––– she considers whether or not she’s going crazy before remembering the insane don’t ask those kinds of questions. the realization was more of a disappointment than a sigh relief. perhaps if she was out of her mind, truly out of it, then nothing would matter. every event that had transpired would be nothing but a string of meaningless moments. memories that held no substance, events that carried no weight or power. she’d be free. it’s in that moment that she starts to cry, her tears warm as they slide down her cheeks, the saltiness gathering onto the curve of her lip so she can taste it in her mouth. and then she laughs. if someone saw her now, alone and teary eyed, nails bitten down to bloody stubs, what would they think ? she’d like to imagine whatever narrative an onlooker might place her in, it would be kinder than the one she’s currently living. fuck did she need to be high right now.

                          there was a biology major that owed her a favor. and while neither of them remembered how exactly this debt had been acquired, he’d opened the door when she’d knocked, the scent of marijuana wafting the way someone’s perfume might if you stand too close.  “ ––––– emi ? jesus christ, you look like shit. ”  she didn’t doubt the truth in his statement, because she felt like shit, like every breath she took was filling her lungs with more air than she could handle and she was one second away from choking on it. still, he’d let her in, not asking any questions besides if she wanted water and if she wanted to do a line of coke with his girlfriend and roommate. she’d said yes to the coke. sitting at the edge of the couch after losing count of how much she’d snorted, emi had been counting the tiles on the ceiling before she’d spoken what would be her first sentence in over an hour.  “ have you ever almost died before ? ”  and she’s not talking to any one of them, really, their faces like little paint smudges on a much larger canvas. she can’t even tell if she’d received an answer, the sound of her own voice deafening.  “ there’s nothing there. no light, like in the movies. it’s just fucking empty. ”  she lost track of time after that. at some point she’d ended up in the bathroom, the coldness of the tiled floor a blessing to her fever hot skin. when she gets up, she’s met with her own reflection for the first time all night. her eyes are bloodshot, dark circles beneath them prominent enough to make someone think maybe it’s mascara that’s smudged under there. her bangs were matted into a sweaty mess, slick against her forehead. she smiles, just to see if her reflection does the same. the image didn’t feel real. that’s when she sees the pill bottle next to the sink. 

                        impaired judgement. emi had always found it funny how that was listed as a side effect for intoxication, as if the judgement of a sober person was automatically assumed to be logical and clear. but that couldn’t be the case. no, impaired judgement was a side effect of being human, of being an imperfect creature with a tendency to self destruct. the pills she’d stolen rattle inside the pocket of her hoodie. emi feels them like a weight, as if every round capsule were made of lead and they were heavy enough to break through the lining and spill across the floor, exposing her for the thief she was. she wouldn’t have taken them if it had been any other normal night. she’d been desperate before but never like this, the urge to keep numbing herself until she slipped into the dreamy confines of unconsciousness stronger than she’s ever felt before. and that image  –––––  the knife plunging into ashley, over and over. she wanted so bad to be rid of that. above all else, that was fucking with her head the most, like a movie she couldn’t figure out how to pause before it had learned to loop. her place is empty when she arrives. she hadn’t been checking her phone all night, but she figures maybe everyone is still at sage’s place. or maybe everyone had parted. or maybe they’d all disappeared like mina had, there one moment, gone the next. mina. the thought squeezes her throat shut, her chest tight with....grief ? or maybe it was panic. fear. hopelessness. she was too high to think about it too hard, to decipher just about anything that had happened since she’d slipped away from the rest of her friends. she takes the pills out of her pocket when she gets to her room, cross-legged on the bed as she realizes she’d swiped somebody’s anxiety medication. xanax. i’m a shit person, emi thinks, fingers going white as she grips the bottle tighter. she’s never missed rehab before, but in that moment she does, misses the way she had someone to talk to when the thought of doing something really fucking stupid crossed her mind. 

ANY ABUSE OF MEDICATION CAN LEAD TO DEATH. PLEASE CONTACT POISON CONTROL IF NECESSARY...   

                        one pill. then another. then another. emiko doesn’t remember much about when she’d overdosed, only how she had felt a little bit before it happened. she’d felt as if she was going to die. and it hadn’t been scary, not really, because she couldn’t feel much at that point. it was like pins and needles all across her body, only her body wasn’t her body, and her head was floating so far up into space she’d imagined saying hi to every single one of jupiter’s moons as she drifted past them. and then she’d woken up in a hospital room. that was the part she didn’t like to think about much. the look on her father’s face. the beeping of machines. the scratchy hospital sheets. one pill. then another. then another. if she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was in space, her vision going black. emi had never asked her parents what exactly it was that they’d told her siblings while she was in rehab. maybe they’d also been fed the study abroad excuse, the poolside pictures she’d posted from the ocean view recovery center enough to fool them the way they’d fooled her friends. all she knew was that they didn’t visit her the seven months she was there. on her worst nights alone in california, emi wondered if maybe they did know the truth. if maybe her father had told the rest of the family, but none of them had cared enough to visit her, so disenchanted with the reckless actions of their youngest sibling. but she knew that probably wasn’t true. her father’s political career depended on her secret being kept. family was no exception. one pill. two pills. she looks down at her hands. half the bottle was missing, her heart skipping a beat at the realization of exactly what she’d just done. fifteen seconds –––––  for a good fifteen seconds, emi considers closing her eyes again and leaning back. she’d never believed old people could really die painlessly in their sleep because of natural causes. maybe this was the next best thing. but then she’s up and on her feet, quick to kneel down in front of her toilet and shove her fingers down her throat until she’s retching, emptying her stomach, the burning sensation almost unbearable. when she’s done, she presses her face against the base of her bathtub, her body sinking down to the floor. she lets her eyes unfocus for a moment, everything blurry and white before she shuts them. snow. it looked like snow.    

[high5nerd]

The Misadventures of Fanty and Pitch Black---Chap. Six

The last thing Pitch wanted was Fanty knowing that he was dying. And it wasn't the type of dying people were so commonly used to. He was just….fading away. He remembered North's words, 'As long as one child believes, we will be able to fight fear.'

As long as they had at least one believer, the Guardians could come back and stay strong.

Since Pitch was no Guardian, it was harder for him. Even if he just had one, he would die. Spirits like him needed more. Even if there would always be fear in the world, it was children that impacted how he survived. As long as they believed in fear and in the Boogeyman, he could still breathe, blink, and do his job.

He wasn't ready to die. Even after thousands of centuries, he just didn't want to.

November finally arrived, and the entire town of Burgess was colored with the leaves of autumn. People were getting ready for a festival at the park, and Fanty was going to be there along with Angel and Drago, helping with the decorations and music. That morning Fanty woke up and was getting ready to go and help, Pitch acted like his usual self, as he wasn't offended and somewhat sad that Man in Moon said he might not live for long. He needed to take in fear, or leave the town.

Was there another solution?

Apparently Man in Moon told everyone else, especially the Guardians. And surprisingly, their reactions were varying.

"Good," Bunny said proudly, "Less of a threat, more peace and hope. Good job, everyone!"

"Bunny, enough." Tooth said disapprovingly, "Even if an enemy is dying, it isn't nice to cheer at their death."

"She's right." North said, sitting in a rocking chair.

"Hold on, you are actually defending him?!" Bunny demanded, looking shocked.

Tooth, North, and Sandy hesitantly nodded. But both Jack and Bunny furrowed their eyebrows in frustration.

"This is Pitch we're talking about. He nearly destroyed us." Jack said, making a very valid point.

"True," Tooth said, fluttering her wings a bit faster, "but does that give us the right to just watch him die? You know what he was like before he became Pitch Black. Pitch may be evil, but there must be a part of him that's still good."

"Manny said something about that, how these teenagers see him." North said, and everyone looked startled.

"Teens?!" Bunny said, slightly disgusted.

"Teens?" Tooth was completely confused.

"Teens?" Jack grinned, fixing his sweatshirt and combing his hair back with his fingers. After three hundred years he could finally flirt again!

"Yes. This girl named Fanty is the ring leader, I think. From what it sounds, she kidnapped Pitch when he was doing his dirty work-"

Bunny, Jack and Sandy burst into howls of laughter-Sandy's silent, of course-and even Tooth giggled like a maniac as she somersaulted in the air from the amount of hilarity that got to them.

"W-wait!" Bunny gasped, wiping a stray tear from his emerald green eye, "This girl, Fanty, just kidnapped him!?"

"She sounds badass!" Jack wildly grinned, looking as if he could celebrate into the air like the excitable boy he was.

Sandy hesitantly nodded, before shaking a finger at Jack's language. Jack stuck out his tongue playfully and glanced at North, who was suffering by trying to hide a grin.

"She set up trap and everything. Very smart girl! Not on nice list for that, however." North shook his head.

"So there's Fanty, and then her five other friends, Xion, Mystic, Angel, Star and Drago? Interesting names."

"Drago's name sounds like she's a dragon rider. I want a name like that!" Jack said, and Tooth grinned and nodded excitedly.

"They even know Bennett children! Angel babysits for them at times. Fanty visits as well." North said, standing up from the rocking chair and strolling over to be closer to the group.

But before a conversation could start, Jack whooshed out of the main room and into the freezing air of the North Pole, eager as ever to meet these six girls. Not only his age, but GIRLS! And they knew Jamie, too. But they're girls!

"I feel sorry for him." Bunny chuckled, and Tooth gave him a curious look.

"Why?"

"He's eternally stuck with unbalanced hormones. It's hilarious!" Bunny snickered, and even North and Sandy chuckled along with him.

Tooth's feathers ruffled in irritation, and she snapped, "Stop it! He's not a floozy!"

That made the three men-if you count a Pooka a man-laugh even harder, and Tooth's feathers started to fluff and her wings hummed faster. "At least he doesn't flirt with water nymphs!"

Bunny gasped, shocked at Tooth's insult. "Take that back!"

"Can't. They're words," Tooth grinned, and did her best evil cackle. It wasn't very convincing, and she couldn't help but cough at the effort. "Blah, I need to work on that."

"No you don't. For Manny's sake, Tooth, you're a Guardian, not a fearling." Bunny rolled his eyes.

"She make good fearling costume, though!" North piped up, and Tooth batted his compliment away with a grin on her face, knowing she had that costume in the bag for Halloween.

Bunny grumbled, "I can't even believe we went to Jackal's Halloween party. The Headless Horseman still owes me twenty bucks."

"From that gambling game?" Tooth gave him a stern look, making even the elves look away in modesty.

Fanty just finished setting out the colorful stones at the Fishing booth, and drizzled a bit of blue glitter on top of them as well. She sighed with her work happily, and admired her finished labor. A giant wooden board sat next to the booth stand, painted bright blue with dark green kelp, colorful seashells, grey rocks and painted fish of many colors. Bubbles floated up to the surface, and she even was able to make a rippling effect at the top. Five fishing hooks made for children laid on the ground, and the one hundred and fifty lunch bags of candy neatly hid inside the booth. Another person that was helping out named Richie, started carefully placing the prizes on the booth table, which were round bowls with beta fish, goldfish or hermit crabs in them, complete with pebbles and a decorative anchor.

After being allowed to leave and heading back to the apartment, Fanty was ready to just get a bag of Doritos, plop onto the couch and watch another episode of Honey, Did You Eat the Neighbors? Pitch would probably like it, Fanty wasn't sure if he liked the subject of man-eating aliens. It wasn't scary, it was funny and worth watching.

But when she came home, she was met with the five other friends circling her apartment with wild grins on their faces, and inside two male voices shouted at each other.

"Who's in my apartment besides Pitch?" Fanty asked, starting to get a little worried.

"Well, Pitch kinda said, 'Well, well, well, if it isn't Jack Boogerface Frost' so I think it's Jack Frost." Drago said, and snickered at Xion's dreamy sigh.

"He's so cute! I've never seen anyone so adorable." Xion fanned herself, smiling like a goofball.

"Oh for Pete's sake, are you for real?" Fanty smirked at Xion, and Angel hugged herself, swaying her hips side to side.

"Imagine him keeping you cool in the summer, all those chilly hugs to keep the heat away." Xion gasped, and she and Angel squealed in excitement.

Fanty watched them, and then peeked in to see Jack smirking proudly and standing tall as Pitch glared down at him, knowing very well he was being watched. Nope, Pitch is still cuter. Fanty thought.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. Hmm….Fanty evilly grinned, and chuckled darkly.

"Oh, crap, I know that look." Star gave Fanty a worried look.

But Mystic just grinned along, trying to keep her giggles in. She knew exactly what Fanty was going to do. Drago's eyes widened as Fanty walked in, acting like nothing was going on outside in the hallway.

"Pitch!" Fanty called, and the two spirits looked up to see an older teenager with dark brown hair up in a ponytail stand in the kitchen, her arms folded over her chest. Jack grinned, knowing that must be Fanty.

"Who are you yelling at?" Fanty said, keeping her eyes trained on Pitch.

Jack's smile fell. He looked up at Pitch, who looked confused. "Jack Fro-Oh." Pitch finally got her little trick and grinned evilly at Jack.

"Who's Jack Frost?" Fanty asked, pretending to be curious.

"What?" Jack Frost squeaked, his baby blue eyes widening in horror, "But I'm right here! No!"

"Talking to yourself isn't gonna fix anything. Especially yelling." Fanty said, waving a hand away at the mere idea of such a self-conversation.

Pitch nodded, "I agree. I didn't mean to talk to myself," Pitch cast a spiteful smirk at Jack, who's lower lip began to quiver.

"Please! Pitch, come on! Make her see me!" Jack begged.

"I dunno, Frost. What's it going to take?" Pitch sighed, observing his nails boredly.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows in anger, holding his staff tightly, "I'm not falling to my knees and begging!"

"I say, do you feel a draft?" Fanty said in her best British accent, and the three girls out there, Drago, Star and Mystic, cackled at her little jab. But Xion and Angel grew weary and upset, wishing they could just burst in and tackle Fanty and punch her right in the gut and then kiss Jack's cheeks until they were pink.

Jack fell to his knees, dropping his staff and clutched at Pitch's robe in agony, sobbing hysterically. "PLEAAASE! PLEASE MAKE HER BELIEVE IN ME! AAUUUGHH!"

Pitch finally grinned, and to Jack's surprise, laughed. It wasn't a menacing laugh like he would expect, it was a laugh of complete amusement! It sounded less threatening than his dark laugh. He turned to Fanty, a happy smile on his face, "Did you get it?"

Fanty clicked off her video recorder on her phone, and nodded excitedly. "Got it! Don't worry, Jack, I could see you from the beginning." Fanty smiled at Jack, who was so frozen-heh-in shock, he couldn't even explode with anger (like most Jack Frost fangirls are probably doing right now. The writer sends her apologies).

"You-!? You-!?" Jack stood up abruptly, pointing at her with an accusing finger.

"Me! Me! Me!" Fanty pointed at herself, and laughed more, and the five other girls rushed in to meet Jack Frost.

While Xion gave his arm a hug as everyone else asked questions and flattered him, Pitch came up to Fanty with a proud grin, took her hand and spun her around. "You definitely are evil."

"I'm so classic." Fanty chuckled, and when she looked over at Jack again, couldn't help but smile wider.

Jack was grinning proudly as the girls fluttered around him. He brushed off their compliments and statements as if they were no big deal, but everyone could tell he was joyful at the prospect of not just more believers, but being hassled over like this was like Tooth times five.

"He's gloating." Pitch said flatly.

"Jealous? I could get Mystic to dress like you if you want." Fanty folded her arms as if she were daring him.

"She would look good." Pitch grinned, and Fanty slapped him at his cheeky grin.

After the other five girls left-Xion the last one who was literally floating on Cloud Nine when Jack smiled at her-Jack said casually as he plopped himself onto a chair, "Anyway, I heard Pitch made new friends. Me, thinking they were new enemies, went to check it out. But then I notice Pitch hasn't lost most of his youth, apparently."

"Shut up, Frost." Pitch glared at him, still standing in the kitchen. He refused to sit down until Jack left.

"Who told you?" Fanty asked, raising a brow.

"North, but North was told by Man in Moon."

"The old kid's rhyme where the cow jumped over the moon?" Fanty asked again, genuinely confused.

"That stupid cheeseball! That tattletale!" Pitch hissed, slamming a fist into his open hand.

Jack gave Fanty a weird look, ignoring Pitch completely, "Uh, no-"

"Oh, then that Harry Chapin's song, 'Cat's in the Cradle'?" Fanty beamed, and started singing happily, "Cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon, when ya coming home, son, I don't know when, but we'll be together then!"

Jack gave Fanty a look before looking up at Pitch, who just shook his head and face palmed. "Frost, I've been stuck with her for three weeks."

Jack, being the cheeky teen he was, grinned, "That's a better punishment that being dragged into an abyss by your own army."

"Shut up!" Pitch snapped.

After Jack explained to Fanty who Man in the Moon was, and Fanty's question if Man in Moon was like their version of God (which made Pitch slam his head against a wall), Jack left. Fanty thought maybe her quirkiness chased him off, maybe even her little joke, and immediately felt bad. Pitch merely shook it off, "He's socially awkward."

"You are, too," Fanty looked up at him with a teasing grin, "at least sometimes."

Pitch snarled softly, "Am not."

"Yep. Hey! And I have some great news!" Fanty exclaimed, jumping onto her feet and bouncing up and down on the couch.

"Before, there's something I have to tell you…" Pitch said quietly, not bearing to look into her eyes honestly.

Was he really going to ask her for help? He needed belief in order to live. Fanty's fears, if she gave them to him, would only last for at least two more years, until he would fade away. If that was all that's left for grabs, Pitch would jump for it. Still, a pang was in his heart, a feeling of guilt. Something told him to just tell her that she was a…gulp….friend. Maybe not a friend like he would prefer like the Spirit of Halloween and the Spirit of Misery, but still a friend.

"Us girls are all going shopping tomorrow, and-and-and-and-!" Fanty rushed excitedly, not stopping her jumping at all.

"Fanty, wait, I need to tell you-" Pitch said a little bit louder, but still meekly.

"And you're coming with us!" Fanty clapped excitedly.

Silence rang in Pitch's stunned ears. Fanty watched him, her excited face not falling whatsoever. NONONONONOONO! His mind screamed, dreading the mere idea of shopping with a bunch of pubescent girls with seemingly bottomless pits called 'purses'. This was his worst nightmare.

Yep. Things just got worse.

I made up a Halloween spirit, Jackal. Not sure why I chose that name, but I think it sounds very Halloweeny.

The TV show Honey, Did You Eat the Neighbors is made up. Sorry. (Maybe I'll pitch the idea next time I go to Warner Bros Studios on a field trip...if I can get ahold of the producers)

*grapples Jack Frost fans* Dont leaaave me please! I beg of thee! You'll have your revenge next chapter, I promise by a blood oath!

Drop a review, and I'll drop a hug for ya! :D And maybe I'll get Pitch to D-D-D-D-DROP THE BASS!

[artificialqueens]

Royals (A The Selection AU Fanfic) Chapter Five - TheQuartzMermaid

A/N: If you’re evil and you’re on the rise, you can count on the four Royals fans taking you down. ‘Cause we’re good and evil never beats us, we’ll read the fic and we’ll go out for pizzas! I am TheQuartzMermaid, Adore and Katya are meeting today, and if they don’t get along at first I’m sure they’ll find a way. That’s why the people on this blog believe in: Shadowcat204, whatevertrixya, Tiff, and Vixen! (and all the other people that liked/reblogged previous chapters but their names didn’t fit the parody: ummm3, thedevilstolemyobsession, civonumist, foolishfireworks, avocado-anxiety, marshallisnotinteresting, katyazamothunderfuck, teen8angel, xqueenchristinex, kaceykind3, superredhidinghood315, delano23me, achele-camren-real, shadows21233, roughfriend, snazzyjazzy617, pinkimperfectz, highclassdecadence, awk0beauts, sickening-kokes, Mistress, sdmn-af, zxldabxtch, therealdinkmunson, c-reep-s, and mr/mrs anonymous) THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT, I LOVE U GUYS A/N2: Do you wanna sing with me? Let’s start: I’m walking in like Blondie, a human ball of laundry…

Again, if you’re not familiar with The Selection, I highly recommend you to read the prologue for this fanfic. If you like it enough, you can read the original books by Kiera Cass, they’re amazing.

THE TIME HAS COME, FOR YOU TO READ THIS FIC, FOR… YOUR… LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!

Royals - Chapter Five (or The one in which two worlds collide - there are plenty of musical references in here, huh?)

“How can I say this without hurting your feelings, darling?” The platinum blonde girl who was taking care of Adore’s hair looked disappointed at that mess on her head. “Your hair is terrible.”

“Nevermind. Birds need a nest to hang out, don’t they?” Adore poked the funny bone of the hair stylish. “I believe you can save it, can’t you?”

“Well, it depends on what do you want to do with it. If you wanna be blonde like me or Miss Russia over there, I’d better shave your head and give you a wig.”

“No color change, thanks”, the Sonage Nightingale looked at her reflection in the mirror. Mom was right, Adore was really pretty with those green eyes and deep dark hair. “Actually, don’t change much. I want to keep my hair as dark as the core of my soul and as long as the list of Twos that wish they were me back in Sonage.” She chuckled. “Just make it less 'hi I slept with rats’ and more like 'hi I’m a Five who pretends to be a princess’, please.”

Alaska, the hair stylish, giggled. “You’re funny, Miss Adore. I’m already rooting for you.”

As Alaska started studying what she could do to Adore’s hair, the brunette’s gaze fell on the “Miss Russia” the stylish mentioned not long ago. She was sitting there, all smiles – and what a beautiful smile she had –, talking to a reporter. She recognized the blonde quickly, it was Yekaterina with the complicated last name, from Columbia.

The Five analyzed the girl. She was sit like a lady, wearing beautiful dress and shoes, very princess-like. Despite the royal aura she seemed to emanate, Yekaterina did look like a pleasant person to be around. Last thing Adore could see was she shaking the reporter’s hand before heading to another couch and talk to two girls: one had the smallest waist Adore’s ever seen and the other was a latin girl with a beautiful smile.

Alaska did do a miracle to that hair. Adore felt like she was one of those princesses from the stories Charlie used to tell her in her childhood. Her dark locks were now fluffy, shiny and wavy. Alaska even added little clips with pearls to avoid it from falling on Adore’s face.

“Oh my God, Alaska. Can you believe this shit?” The Selected was pleasantly surprised. The bad word didn’t seem to bother the blonde, who also seemed very proud of her work.

“I know, right, Adore Delano”, she replied. “Your hair looks so good… I love it.”

“I look fucking cool”, Adore said before getting up from her chair and hugging Alaska. “You’re a hero. Like, really. I don’t think there is a word to express how thankful I am.”

“Don’t say nothing, just send me flowers”, Alaska giggled. “Go on, Miss Adore. You still have makeup and nails to be done.”

She muttered another thank you before being led to the next station.

Unlike most of her fellow competitors, Adore payed attention to the names of every single person that crossed her way in this crazy journey. From George, the forms guy, to Bianca Del Rio, the woman that received her. From her fierce style manager, Raja, to the sweet girl who was now painting her nails, Kim. There was a man painting her face, but even though he said his name was Fame, that was not what a pin attached to his shirt’s pocket said. Adore respected that choice, though. If he says he’s Fame, then Fame he is.

“I have to say, your makeup didn’t suck for a Five”, Fame commented as he styled Adore’s eyebrows. “I’m trying to keep that style to what I’m doing.”

The girl just hummed. Mom and her couldn’t afford a makeup artist back in Sonage, so she had to learn how to beat a face by herself. Charlie taught her a few tricks too, but the techniques she used were mostly Adore’s.

After they got her ready, Raja reappeared, taking the Selected to a maze of racks and dresses. While the other girls had at least 6 different clothes, Adore only had one dress to her name. Raja seemed disappointed as she approached the girl.

“I’m deeply sorry, Miss Adore, but we weren’t expecting you until this morning” she didn’t sound condescending, if anything, she was frustrated. “We’ve only got your measures like, four hours ago and the maids only had time to sew one day dress. The queen herself went to buy some more so you can keep up to your competitors.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Thank you, Raja.” Adore flashed a sweet smile at Raja, who also offered her some shoes.

“Well, I think any of these will look fine. And don’t feel bad about your wardrobe, your maids are working on it. And about this dress…” her tone was very dreamy right now, “Prince Casey himself chose the fabric.”

Her heart felt a little warm as she got dressed. Just a look at the mirror and wow, do I really look that expensive? As she already expected, the reporters came to her and asked a bunch of questions on her look, her ideas on the other girls and her overall expectations about The Selection.

***

“Oh, there she is. The Replacement.” Violet rolled her eyes as she saw another black-haired girl come from the dressing rooms.

Katya didn’t even fight the urge to look. Damn, bitch was tall. And her dress was lovely: lilac with a white belt, short sleeves and some pearl details on the top part. She almost looked like royalty.

“What do you mean by replacement?” Violet’s new friend, Pearl, asked.

“A blonde smiley girl was picked from Sonage, but she broke the law and was disqualified”, the tiny-waisted model answered, matter-of-factly. “I heard somebody say the bitch lied on her form, and giving false information is indeed a crime.”

“I heard she was made an Eight and then they got 'The Replacement’ instead”, it was time for Ivy to talk about it.

“Lucky girl.” Pearl sighed.

The girl they were calling “The Replacement” was done with her interview now and chose a seat far away from every other girl in the room. As she passed by Katya’s group, the girl from Columbia could read the name on her pin: Adore.

How could a name fit it’s owner so perfectly? Adore didn’t have to open her mouth or do anything, but Katya was sure she was really adorable. And scared. Katya could sense that, she was really good at reading other people’s body language: Adore stared at the floor, only lifting her gaze to look around. She was really tall, but the way she was sit made her look really small. She looked at her nails and played with her hair. Her expression revealed she was kind of unsure about being there. And then Adore started looking around again, when her eyes met Katya’s.

The girl from Sonage tried to look away, but those blue eyes were kind of magnetic. It was Yekaterina, of course, Miss Russia. Why is she looking at me?, Adore thought. Does she think I’m some kind of aberration?

Suddenly, Adore thought the plant by her side looked extremely fascinating. Of course. The other girls were already talking about her, about how she wasn’t supposed to be here. Yekaterina was one of them, clearly. She was a Three, she had a “higher position” compared to Adore… Or so she thought she had. Adore was now a Three too, since she was one of the Selected. George said something about lower caste girls having some difficulties to go back to their previous lives after The Selection, so anyone below Three received Three status after being chosen. Simple as that.

Katya swears she heard something break when Adore looked away. Did I stare too much? Of course this wasn’t the main question in her head. Despite this feeling, she dared looking at Adore again, only to be interrupted by Bianca. Sadly, she didn’t pay attention to anything the older woman said after the “ladies” calling.

The question was still pulsing in her mind.

Did anyone notice?