#ghost absolutely in love with her as soon as she flips the safety off

[astrandofgold]

take me as i am

chapter 6: fell in love in the only way i knew

Here it is, the latest chapter! It’s only been….forever? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long because I wasn’t quite sure how to finish it off, but I finally figured it out. This one focuses on the sweet, with some minor suggestive content. The song I referenced is Q&A by Kishi Bashi, and I’m absolutely obsessed with it! Also, is it even a story about Higgs if there isn’t a part where he plays guitar? 😂

___________________________

A well-worn blanket, a pack of beers, and a guitar. That’s what was strapped onto Leo’s back. The guitar was awkward, but she’d be damned if she hadn’t carried worse cargo. And besides, Higgs had promised her, with a chuckle, that he’d play for her if she managed to carry it all the way to their destination, of which, was now within view of the two former porters. Out of the corner of her eye, Leo caught Higgs giving her a side glance, smirking. She rolled her eyes, flipped him off, and grinned, trekking forward.

Higgs had to hand it to Leo, the girl had some real grit. It was one of the many reasons why he was smitten with her. She reminded him of himself, and she carried that spark in her that he had misplaced long ago. Higgs mused to himself, thinking about how she was helping him find that spark again. Life had a funny way of placing into his hands the very thing he never dared to dream would come into his life. He could still see his daddy sneering down at him, telling him all the lies that shattered his young child’s heart. The scars still remained, littering his body like constellations. Each one formed the story of a boy wincing at the sound of a cracking belt, a boy covering his face with his arms as tears silently fell, a boy tending to burn marks in the cover of the night. A boy that grew up believing he was as ugly and worthless as his daddy was.

Despite that, Higgs was starting to come around on the concept that maybe he wasn’t as ugly of a person as he was led to believe. If it were true, then why the hell would Leo be with him? Maybe she was batshit crazy to be with him, the thought had crossed his mind more than a few times. But regardless, he was happy that she chose to stick with him. He remembered the night that he finally revealed his scars to Leo, she held him close, placing gentle kisses on each one, eyelashes glistening with fragments of tears. He didn’t know what she saw in him, but he definitely knew what he saw in her. As Leo coughed, Higgs was brought back to the present moment as he focused his attention and realized that Leo’s orange eyes were peering curiously into his own blues.

“What’re you thinking about, babe? You’ve been staring off like that ever since we passed the hot springs.” Higgs smiled gently in response, then chuckled. “I’m thinking about the fuckin’ food I’ve been carrying on my back for the last half hour. I’m starving!”

Leo scowled at him, teasingly smacking his toned upper arm.

“Dammit, Higgs, didn’t you eat right before we left? Where the hell do you store all that food?”

Higgs turned a mischievous eye to her as he patted her head, the height difference becoming strikingly apparent.

“Well, darlin’, you tell me where you think I store it all.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall.”

“And it’s not mine that you’re adorably short. I’m so glad we’ve had this conversation, but now I’m gonna eat something.”

“No, Higgs, just-just wait a second! Look, that’s the spot right there!”

Leo quickened her pace just a little, walking down the slight hill to a spot next to the riverbank. Small, white flowers grew in the lush grass, giving the area an aura of safety. This portion of the valley hadn’t seen timefall for quite some time, yet had a consistent supply of river water, which led to a unique ecosystem developing. Fauna had begun to return to the valley floor, birds chirped in the taller grass, and small deer ran in the woods where Homo Demens had once declared their base. Higgs still shuttered to think about his time there, as infrequent as it was. Surrounded by men who were just as delusional as he had been, who sought to bring about the same thing he had wanted. As he glanced over to the woods with the ghosts of his past, he let out a sigh of relief knowing that they hadn’t succeeded in their goals. He never would have been here with Leo, watching life return to the mountain base. It almost reflected his own healing, and he wryly smirked at the thought.

____________________

The sun was setting as Leo and Higgs reveled at their picnic spread, the worn Bridges blanket hosting a multitude of food items. Higgs couldn’t even begin to figure out where Leo had sourced it all from. She stood there, hands on hips, grinning at the selection. She was resourceful, and Higgs knew that the local preppers gave her gifts on occasion, but some of the stuff was unheard of. Chocolate? Fresh fruit? Those words alone would have caused Mules to come running from across the region to have a go at claiming it as their own. A wave of satisfaction and pride spread throughout Higgs as he thought about his partner’s success, and the fact that she chose to share it with him. He knew he was one lucky bastard.

The meal consisted of attempts at trying to throw bits of food in each other’s mouths, a few delectable favorites hand fed to the other followed by laughter, and one episode of Leo rolling her eyes when Higgs blew right through an entire loaf of fresh bread that she had procured all the way from the Timefall Farm. The light in the sky changed from yellow to orange, and now bathed the valley in soft shades of lavender as mist slowly filled the basin. Leo gasped as the flicker of a firefly appeared near them, low to the grass, but unmistakable in its glow. One after the other appeared, and soon, Leo and Higgs were surrounded by a field of light. Higgs unwrapped his arms from where he had been holding Leo as they watched the light show, and leaned over to grab the unforgotten guitar from the case. He knew Leo had been waiting for this moment with much patience. Her bright eyes, made even more orange by the fireflies, flickered with anticipation.

“Now don’t get your hopes up. It’s been a long time since I’ve played one of these things, and, well…you never know.” Higgs messed with the tuning, strumming until he seemed satisfied, a peaceful smile washing over his face. Leo, despite his protestations, had always thought Higgs attractive. But now, here in his element, surrounded by the glow of the evening and hair falling over his face, with his blue eyes shining, she thought he was absolutely beautiful.

Higgs broke the silence with a hesitant strum, getting the feel for the strings, forming a melody. It was a full, warm sound, and reverberated in Leo’s heart. Higgs looked up at her as he played, beaming.

“It’s somethin’ I heard on the network the other day. I think you were humming to it, and it kinda reminded me of you.”

He continued playing, and Leo laid on her back, folding her hands underneath her head as she listened. The stars twinkled in the sky, something she would never take for granted after a lifetime of chiralium-filled skies.

“You are the answer to my question

You are my accomplice in a crime…”

Leo sat up and looked over at Higgs, a smile breaking out on her face as she processed that Higgs was singing to her. He was absolutely beaming as he sang, the happiest she had ever seen him.

“You are my wing woman and did I mention

We were together in another life?”

Higgs wasn’t one to vocally voice his emotions, Leo knew that. He showed them through actions, through caring touches, hands on the small of her back, fingers gently moving strands of hair, lips whispering on skin in the dark of the night. Leo was surprised when she felt drops fall on her arms. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Higgs looked up at her, eyes earnestly exploring her own. He held her gaze as he sang the next line.

“…in that dream, you probably were my wife.”

With a final strum, the notes gave way to the quiet noise of the night. Crickets chirped, wind gently caressed the two bodies, and the nearby stream bubbled. Higgs set the guitar down next to him on the blanket, and Leo could see he had a hint of blush on his cheeks. Leaning over, slowly and softly, Higgs reached out and caressed Leo’s face. Thumb running over her cheek, over her lips. He wanted to take in every bit of her that he could. Blue eyes met golden eyes, each hungrily taking the other’s features in. Higgs moved in closer until his nose brushed against hers, lips a breath away. Leo closed the distance, softly kissing him, brushing her fingers against his neck, then running them into his hair. He gave a hum of pleasure at the motion, and broke the kiss, only to rest his forehead against hers.

“Leo, I-I love you…I know I don’t say it much, but I do. I really fuckin’ do. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and…I don’t deserve you. I just don’t—“ Leo cut him off with a finger to his lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Higgs, please….please listen to me. I want you to know that every morning, you’re the first thing I think about. When I open my eyes, you’re the only thing I want to see. At night, I want the feeling of you holding me to be what stays with me as I fall asleep.” Leo couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as she earnestly gazed into his eyes, and she gave a laugh amidst them. “I want to live a thousand lifetimes with you by my side, and….I never want anyone to take your place. Higgs Monaghan, I love you. I fucking love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are my everything.”

The next moment found Higgs and Leo tangled in one another, clothing rapidly abandoned. Tender hands grasping to bring the other closer still, lips writing their own unique love stories on skin. Hands running through hair, hands running down hips, hands staking claim on bodies that willingly offered. Passionate prayers left Higgs’ lips and spread to the sky, prayers offered up at the alter of Leo’s body. Higgs was by no means religious, but at that moment, he found god in the form of the woman gasping his name from underneath him.

___________________________

Lying under the stars with nothing between them and the balmy night air, the two wrapped up in the blanket. Leo rested her head in the crook of Higgs’ shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. The night was peaceful, and Leo had never felt safer than she did in Higgs’ embrace. The rise and fall of his chest, rhythmic and soothing, quickly lulled her to sleep. As he lie there, drowsily watching the stars twinkle and absentmindedly rubbing Leo’s shoulder, he thought about how his life led him to this point. How this woman, making soft sighs as she slept, accepted him and loved him with an incredible fierceness, showing him a facet of life he had never known. In that moment, as night in the valley settled and he drifted off to sleep, Higgs knew that for the first time ever, he had a long life to look forward to.

[loniereads]

cr: Sufficiently Advanced Magic

*spoiler warning*

Chapter 1 - 5

Chapter one

“I was prepared in a thousand different ways that didn’t matter” - Me for every test I’ve ever taken ☺️✨✨

Omg is he gonna go look for his brother 🥺 This book said found family but make it literal - side note, love the name Tristan.

I hope it’s explained as to WHY hundreds of 17 year olds are enduring a judgment to their possible death????

Imagine you’re brother going basically missing, your mom leaving, and then your dad pulling you out of school so you can prepare to possibly ✨die✨

“It could take years to grow strong enough-” 🥺 He’s going to sacrifice years of his life and risk certain death just for a chance to reunite his family is this book gonna make me cry?

I don’t like his name as much as I like his brothers but yanno whatever- how do you even say Corin

I already hate the dad??? Hello? Your first son is gone and your second could follow in his fate and you don’t even see him off?? Fuck you buddy why are book dads such assholes

“I loathed hurting people. I always had.” so i have decided that if anything happens to Corin I will kill everyone in the room and then myself. WHAT A CUTIE SWEET SOUL

If this book forces him to hurt someone I’ll riot-

Oh my gosh he hates fighting but he’s willing to fight for his brother I LOVE HEALTHY BROTHER RELATIONSHIPS they’re so pure

Corin is so nice to try to explain all of this weapon stuff and rune stuff to me like I have any idea wtf he’s talking about- he’s talking and I’m like I’m just happy to be here ☺️

I feel like the fact that he’s paying for everything he takes is important- like maybe other people just take and don’t leave anything? But he’s like here’s a coin for you scary tower~

“It was too cute to die” why do I love Corin so

What a cute ass sweet ass cinnamon roll, my god🥺

HE FELT GUILTY FOR KILLING A SHADOW SNDKDNSK I love him sm what a king

Chapter two

Why does everything he say sound so intelligent

ldmoaha not Corin having a convo with a book

It’s been too long since I read a normal romance book why did my brain just decide to ship Corin and a BOOK

Ok but him taking time to ask about his brother has me so soft

What the flip chapter 2 was so short??? ):

Chapter three

“You shouldn’t have done that” how ominous and amazing and I love it

He so casually was like OH LOOK A DEAD BODY OH LOOKIE PEOPLE

Omg is he gonna find his brother in here- OH MY

OMG HE DID AHHHHH

just... kidding. He did infact not find him.

Oh wait someone younger than him though- so is going into the tower a choice? That would make it a little better. Like you decide when you go in or? I NEED MORE INFO PLS

The word resh is growing on me

He risked his gold key on her 🥺

I love this little merry band of criminals- also just hoping the kid doesn’t yanno....die

omg Keras is out here crushing stones with his bare hands 😏 hellooooo

Wait I’m so conflicted??? I want to trust Keras and Vera but I also want to trust the book alsnsish

Vera is a whole mood I really hope she’s not like evil or just a weird thing in the tower or idk whatever I want her to stay

AWWAIT ☹️☹️☹️ They left Keras behind- that can’t be it. He’s gotta come back right? Like book person is gonna save him? Right!!??

Chapter four

VERA SUCH A BADDDDIE

This ‘kid’ they’re carrying is just making out like a bandit, he’s just getting carried through the tower 😂

WOW FUCK YOU VERA??? UH I HOPE SOMETHING KILLS HER-but not rhe kid 😔

Okay this might be a weird jump- but WHAT IF THE BOOK ENTITY ISSSSS HIS BROTHER??????????? Like the book person seems to really care if Corin lives? so it’s either just like a really caring person, OR HIS BROTHER

Pls let me be right

That would be so cool

The book entity helped him to finish the rest completely? Is this allowed? This feels not allowed

Corin: fighting monsters with criminals in a magical tower, very time sensitive needs to escape quickly

Also Corin: lemme just wrote a little diary entry ✨☺️

So obviously he’s going to get to keep his memories

Also like he got out of the tower so easily? What?

“And don’t let anyone hassle you about your attunement.” HOW VERY OMONIOUS OF YOU TO SAY

Honestly- Fuck Magnus Cadence

REPLACEMENT? What?

His childhood bestfriend is his half sister? I love that???? Instead of making them love interests they’re half siblings that’s cool as hell. We love childhood friends to siblings trope

I will reiterate, FUCK MAGNUS CADENCE

I hope we get to see their friendship bc I’m here for this trope

Chapter five

🥺 he sent the boys glove to his parents I’m so soft

Their relationship makes me so happy?? Like I love this. So they better reunite or I’ll riot

BROTHERLY RELATIONSHIPS ARE THE BESTTT

I miss Keras 🥺

I am so unsure of Sera. I do love the sudden sibling, and I really really hope they end up having a cool relationship and like she helps him find his(their) brother and hdjsjdjs

If anyone gives Corin a hard time for his attunement I’ll throw hands-

Not them earning points at their schools- All I can think about how is “10 points to gryffindor”

I love the word behooves

Can they go back into the tower already 💀 This down time is killing me. I want book entity, Keras and that boy who was unconscious the entire time back.

-side note, I absolutely love how all three of them(Keras, Corin, and Vera) were all so concerned with this unconscious boy and they literally carried him to complete safety. Who is this boy?? Will he come back? I miss him he better not be be dead. Vera can die but not unconscious boy.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to like Sera... but she’s giving me “I’m better than you because I have a better attunement” vibes and I do not like that at all so if Icneed to I will pretend to doesn’t exist.

Aw the schools has like animal representatives decisions?? CUTE UM. - there’s way too many for my brain to keep up with but I love them anyway

Not them assigning kids to basically play pranks on everyone else and tell them if they don’t find the prankster kids they lose points- what a weird ass school

“You and Patrick were practically brothers” GIRL YOU CANT SAY THINGS LIKE THAT TO SOMEONE WHO HAS AN ACTUAL BROTHER WHO IS MISSING AND/OR DEAD

-Also I know Tristen isn’t dead because like then what would be the point huh? HUH? So he’s got to be alive

Or I’ll riot.

“A walking rainstorm” idk why but that is so fucking adorable. I love my new comfort raintorm, Corin.

I can’t wait for them(Corin and Sera) to meet up with their friends and they have to explain that they’re now half siblings.

Them reminding him to not lose his little sigil pin makes me feel like he’s going to lose or forget it ummmm

Imagine getting fucking EXPELLED because you forgot your pin on your other uniform.

I feel like that would be me honestly. Are people not just...forgetful in this universe??

Ngl i would hate to be in the tortoise division

Corins attunement is lamer but his division is called the Phoenix? Like that’s so much cooler than tortoise

The fact that sera is trying to convince me the Spider division isn’t real makes me feel like she’s in it???

I know my babey Corin didn’t mean this as snarky as I would have liked him to but I love this line so much.

SARCASTIC BOYS WITH DADDY ISSUES OWN ME AND IM NOT ASHAMED TO ADMIT IT

Ngl I was hoping they would have roommates- I love a good school roommate dynamic

For the third time I would like to make my opinion to be known; FUCK MAGNUS CADENCE

Why has no one made a playlist for this book on Spotify? I am throughly disappointed

Not Corin being ghosted by his book-

I wish I had half the motivation Corin has? Like it’s my boys first day of school and as soon as he gets into his room he starts studying. I would have taken a nap

Oop jk as soon as he couldn’t find the rune he was looking for he went to lay in bed.

I’m sorry what in the hell is Wyddsday??? Did I miss them explaining to hat this universe has different names for it’s days of the week?? How am I supposed to know when this is Corin? Or what day it even is currently

World building is so intricate and interesting and I absolutely live for it- but it’s literally so frustrating sometimes learning and remembering everything

Okay Sera being less irritated about her studies being interrupted because it’s Corin is cute

Fuck

I still don’t know if I’m supposed to like Sera

Tashday, Fersday, Kyrsday, Tensday, Vasday, and Wyddsday- either I can’t count or they’re missing a day. And what order do they go in? I need a calendar insert pls and thanks

Wait wait did he just run into an ex? What is this sndlsnsin “long-buried emotions”??

Oooo we get a name. Cecily Lambert

I didn’t possibly think I could relate to Corin anymore than I already do but here I am

The dorm chiefs introduce themselves to everyone? How cute and Curtis didn’t seem at all annoyed by Corin asking so many questions I love when upperclassman in books aren’t rude for no reason. It’s such a tiring trait they often have smh

I need his exams to hurry up because I would very much like to get back to the fast paced tower scenes-

I know absolutely nothing about Jin but I love him immensely

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Welcome To The World, LittleBean: A Life Update

Dear Future Husband,

My sister had the baby! And it made me depressed.

I kind of receded from the world for a couple of weeks and stopped talking to people I enjoy talking to, and stopped doing things I enjoy doing, and kind of stayed in my room unless it was absolutely necessary to leave.

Why, might you ask, would I have done such a thing as a response to such a happy event?

Well, for some of the reasons I've written about previously. The emotional weight of the sadness that comes along with seeing a younger sibling live through something you yourself desire but feel you'll never have, is probably the biggest.

But another reason I've been really down is because of my mother.

Dear old MotherLivelyHeart has problems.

I think I've mentioned this previously, but if/when I marry, I will most definitely be marrying INTO a family and as "out" of my own as I possibly can.

MotherLivelyHeart suffers from anxiety and depression. Shocker, I know.

In fact, my inner voice is comprised mainly of her criticism and negativity. Shocker, I know.

Dear old MotherLivelyHeart has never really wanted to be a mother, as far as I can tell. Shocker? ...I dunno.

When I was growing up, my mother used to always say "I only had children for the grandkids" and everyone would laugh. But HAHA! it wasn't a joke. I figured out pretty early on that she was kind of serious with that statement.

But nothing in my life confirmed that until she was on the phone with her machutanim on the day LittleBean was born and repeated that sentiment to them.

So, all my life, she's struggled with being the parent she never wanted to be in order for us to have offspring that she could love and adore and spoil and then send home to their parents without having to parent herself.

THIS is the "home" I came from.

THIS is the parenting I received.

It's absolutely no wonder I'm so screwed up.

My mother has been overbearing my entire life. And a lot of it comes from her own insecurities and anxieties and lack of the world living up to her expectations. Which is kind of understandable.

The problem comes when those expectations come at the cost of other peoples' comfort and safety.

LilSis had a c-section. The baby wasn't exactly breached, but was flipped at a weird angle and stuck. The baby was also a meconium baby, so while it was already over a week past the due date, LilSis thought she still had time. But as it turned out there wasn't any time because when she went for what she thought was a routine check up, they induced her and after two days of labor and nothing happening, they did the c-section.

Now, LilSis made it clear earlier this year that she didn't want anyone at the hospital with her aside from her doula and husband. No visitors, family included. The rest of us seemed to accept this, but MotherLivelyHeart just kind of smirked and went, "yeah, ok, we'll see about that."

And I get that LilSis is her baby.

I get that it's not easy to see your child suffer.

I get that she's been waiting her whole life to be a grandmother.

I get that she's had expectations about what it would be like to meet her grandchildren, especially her first grandchild.

I. GET. IT.

But when LilSis facetimed and showed us the baby and B"H the baby looked fine but LilSis was clearly too pale and weak and dizzy and needed to get off the phone, but again repeated that she didn't want anyone coming to the hospital, dear old MotherLivelyHeart's response was that she wanted to "surprise" them at the hospital.

"I don't need to ask permission."

"I'm not a 'visitor', I'm her MOTHER."

"I don't need permission to see my own daughter."

"I know what she needs, I'll just drop it off, give her a hug and leave."

"I don't need to see her, I just want to see the baby."

UHM, NOOOOOOOOO.

Your daughter is almost 30.

She's been married for over half a decade.

She has a right to her space and her boundaries for her little nuclear family and YOU ARE CROSSING THEM by even THINKING that would be acceptable.

And the next day, my mother called LilSis and asked her about something she wanted to bring with her. LilSis made it clear that she didn't want anyone to come. When my mother didn't seem to get this, my brother in law texted her a kind "now isn't a good time" message and my mother felt "ganged up on".

She went into a tailspin.

"They don't like me."

"What did I ever do to them that they hate me so much?"

"I've been dissed and dismissed."

"They've cut me out of their lives."

And sooooooo many other thoughts along those lines.

There isn't even enough space here to describe all the insane things she did as a response to this "rejection" she was experiencing.

She was 100000000000% projecting her own thoughts, expectations, and experiences with her own c-section onto LilSis and the whole situation was absurd.

Then LittleBean ended up back in the hospital because of some complications and LilSis and her husband still wanted space.

Now, what MotherLivelyHeart doesn't know, because I will never tell her, is that I saw LittleBean before she did.

Because I'm actually supportive and respectful of boundaries, when they got home LilSis and her husband allowed me to come by and drop stuff off, and run some errands for them (while they were still keeping overbearing MotherLivelyHeart at arms length). So I met LittleBean like 3 or 4 times. And the babes is absolutely precious. <3

LilSis and her husband finally let MotherLivelyHeart over this past week to meet LittleBean and help out and it's like a switch was flipped. Suddenly everything for MotherLivelyHeart is sunshine and rainbows and I legit can't handle the mood swings.

But I digress....

One night last week I drove around and cried and screamed for an hour.

It absolutely sucks when you have no one to talk to.

Which brings me to the next part of my life update:

I finally spoke to a therapist.

So, I thought I was ghosted by the therapist I wanted to speak to. It took a few days, but he finally responded there was an issue with his online scheduler and he needed me to reschedule.

Fine, whatever.

I rescheduled for two weeks from that date (which had already been rescheduled from two weeks prior). So, now it's been a month and a half.

Fine, whatever.

Well, my meeting with him ended up being earlier this week. As it turns out, this therapist I wanted to speak to isn't taking on new clients at the moment, so he was acting more as triage for his practice and had a 15 minute zoom call with me before picking a therapist from his practice he thought I'd connect with.

So the next night I had an hour and a half zoom call with her and she's absolutely lovely and has experience working with children and adults who have experienced similar situations to the one I'm in.

For $120 I had my thought processes and experiences validated.

But that's pretty much it.

She told me I sound pretty level headed and understand what's healthy and what's not healthy in my life and in my past (which is one of the problems with being an overthinker, overanalyzer, and having done extensive research to try and figure out WTF is wrong with me), and she told me there are some exercises to try and reduce stress because it's clear that I'm overstressed and have been since I was a child, and even possibly since birth.

But these are all things I knew already. These are all things I've validated for myself. Yes, it's nice to hear a specialist say the same things, but for $120!?

I literally had to use unemployment money to pay for that. Unemployment that I'm going to have to end pretty soon.

How on EARTH am I supposed to be able to afford continued therapy when it costs so bloody much!?

It's absolutely awful that the people who need therapy the most are the ones who can't afford it.

And I found an organization that claims to help anyone who asks without needing an explanation, so I messaged them a brief "my life is a mess and I need to talk to a therapist. I found someone I think I can connect with, but it costs $120." and they sent me $10.

They said they help anyone who asks without an explanation.

I gave a valid explanation with a specific amount requested.

And they sent me $10.

It just so often feels like I'm banging my head against a wall.

Like I'm a joke to Hashem.

This random organization was like a beacon in the dark. A sign from Hashem that if I reach out for help, I can receive it.

He put this organization into my path and awareness just at the time that I needed it.

All so that He could mock me.

OF COURSE the therapy practice I chose doesn't take insurance.

Not that it would help, because my OBAMAdoesntCARE has been PENDING SINCE OCTOBER.

So OF COURSE I have to pay out of pocket.

And OF COURSE it costs so damn much.

And OF COURSE when I reach out for help I get laughed at.

What did they think I was supposed to do with the $10?

That's literally 1/12 of what I needed.

Even the Torah has us give more than that in maaser.

I legitimately don't understand.

Where do I have to go and what do I have to do to get a sugar daddy to pay for this so I can get my goddamn life in order!?

I'm literally drowning out here and God is throwing me half-deflated pool floaties.

On the bright side, I keep making amazing non-Jewish internet friends.

Do you know how much that sucks?

That I'm literally getting more support from non-Jewish internet friends that live halfway across the world than I am from my own community?

And it sucks even more to know that Hashem put those people into my path too!!

He literally keeps giving me things that He knows will make me feel worse because they make me feel better but also disconnected from the Jewish community, and not giving me things that would make me feel better and closer to Him and the Jewish community.

What am I supposed to do with that knowledge!?

I've often wondered if maybe I just wasn't meant to be Jewish. Like maybe there was some mistake and my mother isn't really Jewish and therefore I'm not Jewish and this is Hashem's way of telling me that I just need to separate myself from the Jewish world and go seek a secular life because that's truly who I'm supposed to be.

Except that my parents were married by a really chashuv community rav who did his research and would not have married my parents if there'd been even one safek as to her Jewishness.

And so, I'm stuck.

I'm stuck feeling constantly disconnected from the community that's supposed to be my rock and support. By the God who's supposed to be merciful and kind.

It's exhausting.

Are you out there? Do you feel the same? Are you a BT or ger or someone else who has lived both lives and can explain to me why yiddishkeit is better?

I have too much Jewish guilt to walk away from any of this, but I have too much mental stress to keep striving to be a part of it.

It's utterly exhausting to be stuck in the middle.

I hope you're doing better than I am.

-LivelyHeart

[yetremains]

♡ + both blurred lines & fire-threaded please =DD

SEND ME ♡ + A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…

This will be long So I am putting it under a read more! You get both as you wished~

BLURRED LINES

Who is the most affectionate? They are both affectionate when given the chance, and I can see this switching between who is more so depending on the situation. But there is no denying that Yang and Hanzo will take the chances they can to give little ghosts of touches or kisses through out the day.

Who initiates the handholding? Yang more than likely would most times, reach over and thread her fingers with Hanzo's. But on the flip side he would be the one to pull her in closer and enjoy her warmth and feeling her pulse beat.

Who worries more for the other? While Yang will always worry about Commander Hanzo, knowing what he has gone through, she wants nothing more than to help him be safe and feel content, it is most likely Hanzo that worries the hardest. He has already lost far too much, and will not loose another. Soldiers for war or not, he's going to worry and hate circumstance.

Who is more likely to ask for help? Being still eager and gungho, yet wise enough to recognize when she is in need, Yang can definitely ask for help more often than Hanzo. He is quite stubborn, and she has learned to recognize through body language, his shifts in gaze, and the small tells to inform her when he needs help and support.

Who is the one always losing the keys? Both of them wouldn't be loosing much of anything. Being hard trained as they both are and always aware of their important items, loosing keys is a very low likely hood on either side.

Who leaves little love notes for the other? Hanzo no doubt starts it. I feel this would turn into exchanging love notes back and forth here and there. But in the end, Yang might write more little notes. While Hanzo would respond verbally in kind or with his actions

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there? Sleep isn't easy for either of them and no doubt wouldn't sleep well without one or the other there. When being able to be together, it's so much easier to sleep peacefully, because waking up with nightmares means there is an immediate hold of warm arms and comfort waiting, safety.

Who is more likely to propose to the other? Being in a very unknown state of danger since they are Special Forces, it might not entirely come up as a priority thought. But seeing as Yang was engaged before, and Hanzo actually married, they might both end up talking about it some day down the line.

Who introduced the other to their family first? HAH, WHAT FAMILY? If you count close friends and other protectors, then I feel this has been Hanzo, considering the joint training with Lin Kuei and Kuai Liang.

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair? I'm going to say Yang, since she has already helped Hanzo with his before and does quite enjoy playing with his hair more often. This is just a fact, Yang likes running her fingers through her partners hair.

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated? Please take better care of yourself Hanzo, Yang is going to worry more, staying up late is bad enough. While Hanzo cooks special meals for the others, Yang would make sure to always check and double check that he is at least hydrated.

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other? Oh the both of them. Nothing is going to get in their way of the other if one is in peril, two very feral fighters that go the extra mile above and beyond what should be deemed sane. But in the end, Hanzo would probably take far more steps to ensure this.

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other? Considering both of their personalities, there would no doubt be surprised from either for one another. Both extremely heart felt and carefully thought out.

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things? While Yang has been through a lot already and lost much, there is still that bright eyed hope and eagerness. Which can sometimes become her having Hanzo pinky promise to take more careful choices when on a mission to protect their world. On the turn around, it would be Hanzo to make Yang promise not to take unnecessary risks.

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch? Taking into account how the two of them can not sleep very well alone, this would be rare. But in the end, on the rare blue moon, I can see that it would be Hanzo to potentially fall asleep on the couch being a workaholic, and Yang putting the blanket over him. Followed by sitting next to the couch to lean against it and nap too. Hanzo waking to see her curled up next too him peacefully.

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FIRE-THREADED

Who is the most affectionate? Once the love is known and accepted as it is now, there was gently touches, desperate holds and embraces, lots of soft kisses that can easily turn passionate. The affectionate damages hearts need an outlet and have found a hearth in each other. There is no 'most' here, just need and more. And when cuddling, it is very tight holds and Scorpion will bury his head into Yang's neck, while hers in his shoulder, height difference.

Who initiates the handholding? If it is not a hug or embrace, then holding hands is the next wanted thing. Yang would probably reach over more often to entwine their fingers, but Hanzo would be the one with the tighter hold and to keep the hands close too him.

Who worries more for the other? There is no more, there is only Worry and Concern, because the two of them are absolutely risk taking fools that do not know the meaning of back down. However, seeing as Hanzo is at an advantage of surviving seeing as he is an undead of a sort, his worry would burn far more for Yang who is very mortal, despite not aging at all.

Who is more likely to ask for help? In this particular verse, it would be very tense when one or the other asks for help. And when it comes down too it, both of them would be reaching for each other when finally cracking to ask. Yet again here, with how empathetic Yang can be and her understanding, she can see when Scorpion/Hanzo needs something, and will always ask what she can do for him. On the flip side, Yang tries to keep it together so hard to be his support and pillar- but when shaken he can tell fairly quickly when she needs him. And will ask for help when approached, even if just for an embrace.

Who is the one always losing the keys? More than likely Scorpion, since Yang would have many keys too different locations all over. Since she has quite a bit of sway. Then again, when the hell does he need keys when he can teleport directly? This is partially just to see Yang's expression when spooked, as well as exasperated.

Who leaves little love notes for the other? Hanzo without a doubt hands down. But eventually Yang would start composing small lyrical poems or short songs to write back in return for those love notes.

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there? With absolutely terrible sleeping habits they both have, and Hanzo/Scorpion being as he is, it's him that sleeps less. While Yang does go for long periods with maybe a small nap, she manages a more peaceful sleep for longer with he's present. Yet still he doesn't sleep as normally as her, staying up to watch her sleep sometimes.

Who is more likely to propose to the other? When I think about it and how they both can be, perhaps one day this may happen down the line. It's far too soon just yet. But between the two of them it would most likely be him to do so. Engaged or no, Yang is the type to play everything very close too her chest in personal matters, and over think for ages. Often locking herself in a mental loop.

Who introduced the other to their family first? I think that between the many people both of them have met, it is a mutual introduction too the friends found family, and in Scorpion's case, his actual family and descendants. Just happening as they forge their relationship closer and continue to strive to better not just the world but them selves.

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair? This is possibly a flip of the coin that changes, who does this more. Sometimes it is Yang who plays with Scorpion's hair, or it is him that strokes his fingers through hers.

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated? As much as the cooking is an enjoyment from Yang, considering she is mortal and has a higher than normal metabolism, I feel Scorpion would be the one making sure most often. But Yang will continue to go out of her way to cook meals and tea from his ancient era, just for him.

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other? So not sure if you know this but there is a thing called 'self control' and another called 'feral'. If one or the other is in danger or needs help, then the feral switch is turned all the way up with the knob broken off. Hanzo will take the more dangerous route every time without a doubt, as incredibly protective as he is, but Yang does not have a bitch pedal either if she has to throw down.

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other? SCORPION. While gifts left out for him or offered freely are common, the true surprise happens when he just suddenly warps in and appears from no where while Yang is relaxing or doing something quietly. Even reading, or reviewing maps and notes. He will surprise her by just appearing and making her jump three feet in the air and yelp with a shriek. There goes the pencil across the room.

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things? Both of them do more than likely, in their own ways. Having come across horrifying events of loved ones and knowing that each other will walk headlong into the worst of dangers. Promise not to leave the other alone in the end.

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch? While the sleeping habits are complete garbage, it can not be helped that more likely it is Yang that falls asleep on the couch even if she tries to maintain awakeness. So it'd be Scorpion/Hanzo to put the blanket over her and make sure she stays warm.

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 6)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone – so I will start this chapter by saying we have quite a bit of intrigue happening here. Some of you may not be thrilled with where I am leaving things, fair warning it is not the fluffiest of places, and some may even call it a dreaded cliff hanger, BUT I promise that the next chapter for this story is already prepped and will be ready for posting next weekend. You will all be way happier with me in the next few chapters, but in the meantime,  I hope you still enjoy the fic and I can’t wait to hear what you all think!

How the fuck did it come to this?

The question had been plaguing him since the moment he left Emma’s side yesterday afternoon and landed in the middle of a political minefield, and he was no closer to an answer about how to get out of this giant mess.

Of course, he knew the facts: yesterday his brother had called him to parliament, a place where Killian very rarely played a role. He hadn’t been there in years, and even then, it was only a formality, but this time he was summoned through some antiquated process no one had ever heard of. What ensued thereafter was nothing short of a disaster. His mandated presence was initially thought to be merely a stall tactic, but then everything flipped and suddenly his brother lost control of what was supposed to be a historic day for the passing of landmark legislation.

Since taking the throne, Liam had been working diligently to change the very system of governing in Montenarro. He wanted more representation for the people, and to have more democratic processes in spite of the presence of the monarchy. He’d worked tirelessly for years to endear his cause to a largely unresponsive parliament, and finally he believed he had enough votes to make a bold and substantial change. He’d even made sure to cover his tracks, getting every signed-on lord to publicly state their support of the bill, but it turned out there were traitors in their midst, and when Killian arrived it became a full-blown spectacle filled with anger and hostility and nonsense.

For nearly an hour Killian bore witness to the political betrayal and the humiliation that followed. A group of usurpers, led by a Viscount with a long held vendetta, proceeded to fill the hallowed halls of parliament with lies and slander and speculation. Most of it actually centered around Killian, and all of it was completely preposterous. These lords were ‘suspicious’ of his absence from public life since being discharged from the navy, of his hesitancy to return to his role as Prince, and of his lack of ‘direction.’ The men went on and on about what kind of message it sent to the people when leaders failed to lead and represent the interests of the citizenry. It was absolutely ridiculous and infuriating. He’d been out of the military for one month – one month! – and apparently failing to return to center stage in that time made him untrustworthy and ‘wayward.’ There was absolutely no consideration for what he’d gone through in serving at all. In the end it didn’t matter – he was always a prince before he was a man, and expectations didn’t waiver, no matter what he’d given to this country or its people.

Liam, to his credit, was absolutely furious, and he’d made sure to lambast the men who criticized Killian, pointing out their dishonor and their disrespect for men and women in uniform. He reminded them all of how out of touch one must be to assume that a man or woman who’d been on active deployment and been party to war would want to just jump back into the fray with no caution or hesitations. Every soldier was different, and every single one of them deserved respect when they’d fought valiantly and enduringly for the country’s safety and interests. It helped Killian to hear his brother’s candid disdain for these men and their actions, and though they had never really discussed the ghosts of Killian’s service, it reminded Killian that Liam understood and that he valued the sacrifice he made all these years. But still it all came to nothing. The lords did not bow to any call for decency, the bill never was presented, the motion was halted, and despite how ridiculous it all was, a nefarious dialogue had been started. Now some people were curious about where Killian was and what he was doing, putting Liam in an incredibly uncomfortable place. In fact, it was so bad a situation that he’d done something he had never done before – he’d gone back on a promise he made to Killian.

That reneging of his word was the ultimate show of dishonor in Liam’s eyes, but it didn’t help Killian that his brother was sick over this choice. Killian was still being sacrificed in a way for the sake of saving face, and the way it would be done meant that Killian was, for lack of a better phrasing, royally screwed. He was totally and completely fucked, because right now, within the next, oh ten minutes or so, he’d be leaving with his family in the royal precession headed for the capital. It was one of the nation’s most cherished holidays, a celebration of independence and military success, but Killian had missed it for years and intended to miss it this year as well. He hadn’t felt ready for such a moment, loud, rambunctious, and public as it was. He’d been nowhere near crowds like this in many years, and the sound of fireworks and sparklers might trigger something in him, along with the high intensity of the crowd itself. But when Liam requested this, Killian kept those fears quiet. He was ashamed to admit that weakness, and now he was making a huge public appearance, one of the largest of the year. Still in spite of all the anxiety that would come just from the processions, it wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was that – through the agonizing stupidity of his own choices – he still had not told Emma the truth.

This lack of disclosure did not come from lack of trying. He’d been forced to remain in chambers in Parliament without his phone until almost midnight, and by then it was too late to call her or go and see her face to face. Emma was asleep for the night and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her in a voicemail. He’d then decided to go to her this morning, but there was physically no way for him to do so. Every route, and he did mean every route, from the palace to her house was blocked off for the processions or being monitored by the media. It was truly nightmarish. As such, he’d done the only thing he could think to do. He wrote out his feelings to her, his worries and his confession. It was long, it was ugly, but it was real. In the letter he apologized profusely for never telling her the truth. He acknowledged that any pain she would feel was his fault and his alone, and he practically begged her to give him another chance. As soon as it was written he entrusted it to one of Jefferson’s team and he waited twenty minutes for confirmation that it was delivered to her home.

The seconds ticked by while he waited for her reply, slowly and terribly, and finally he caved and sent her a text. It said he was thinking of her, and reiterated his intention to talk to her more tonight. Now here he was, hours later, and he’d still heard nothing. He was in excruciating pain, and the only thing worse than not knowing where Emma stood was that he was forced into the customs and practices of this holiday. He was made to go along with a song and dance he hated, and now he was wearing his royal regalia, feeling a fool and a sham and a downright wretch.

“That collar is not going to get any more comfortable for fidgeting with it,” his grandmother’s voice said, drawing his attention back to where he was, outside waiting for the procession to begin from the castle grounds.

His mother and grandmother were set to ride in the coach as he and Liam rode behind them on horseback, but his grandmother wasn’t interested in complying with the order to sit patiently and wait until the very last minute. Instead she ushered him towards her, and began straightening his royal suit. She tidied all his medals and the pins of his military service, and made sure each line of his jacket was crisp and clean. It was clearly something she’d been doing for many years, and the action came naturally to her, so much more so than for Killian.

“For someone who detests the charade of royal life, you really do look so handsome.”

“Thank you, Gran,” he said, but he didn’t mean it. The words were kindly given, but impossible to value when there was so much else he was desperate to engage with.

“But there’s something more, isn’t there? You’re worried about this. Why? Because it’s been a while?” He shook his head. “Is there somewhere you’d rather be?”

He bit back the retort that there were about a million places he would rather be, but she knew his feelings. “There’s a woman isn’t there?” Bloody hell, how had she figured that out?

“Aye,” Killian admitted after a moment’s hesitation. It was no use hiding from his Gran. The old woman was like a blood hound, drawn into the smallest scent and hell bent on tracking until the truth was out.

“And you’re missing her now, are you?” his grandmother said with a nod. “Good. Real loves never bloom for the faint of heart. A good dose of yearning, and a little bit of missing your fair maiden won’t kill anyone. It’s just one day, dear.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Gran.”

“Things usually are. I’m assuming she’s not from any of the royal circles. If she were there’d be far more chatter afoot. Not a one of those ladies of court can keep a secret. It’s positively ludicrous.”

“She has nothing to do with this world,” Killian agreed, woeful at the fact that she might reject it, but so glad Emma was not like those other women. She was so much more wonderful for being real and genuine. He would never change a thing about her. It was everyone else who should change as far as he was concerned.

“She’s uneasy with you being a prince, isn’t she?”

“She will be.”

“Will be?” his grandmother asked, her brows furrowing together in a look of actual concern. “I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t understand.”

“She didn’t know, Gran. She’s not from here. She’s a woman I met at the Institute. Her name is Emma.”

“Emma,” his grandmother said, nodding, like this announcement of his affection for a stranger who worked at their family’s charity was the most natural thing he’d ever said to her, despite the fact that he’d never mentioned to any of his family how much Emma meant to him. “But what do you mean she didn’t know? You mean about the holiday service?”

“About any of it. She didn’t realize I’m a prince. I’ve only just told her this morning in a letter.”

“That’s not possible,” his grandmother said and then her hand came up to cover her mouth in what could only be described as horror. “Oh my word. You’re serious. This morning? A letter?! Killian, what were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair in distress. His grandmother’s agitation only added to his own. “I’ve gone about things all wrong, Gran. I know that.”

“Explain it to me, Killian. Make me understand. How did it come to this?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. At first I thought she knew who I was, and then she didn’t and it was selfish of me not to tell her-,”

“You can say that again,” his grandmother quipped, seemingly annoyed on Emma’s behalf though she didn’t even know her. “Foolishness. Pure foolishness.”

“I know I’ve messed up. I’ve known it all along, but if you knew her, you’d understand. I didn’t want to risk it. Emma defies explanation. Special isn’t the term, for she’s so much more than that. I know it was wrong not to tell her front the start, but I just wanted…” He trailed off, knowing it was useless trying to explain.

“You wanted to be yourself, without the title and the attention,” his grandmother said with a sadness in her voice. She knew his heart in this, and she felt for him, but tragically it changed nothing. “Oh my boy, my dear, sweet Killy, this is quite a mess to be in.”

They were both quiet for a moment, thinking to themselves, and Killian felt sick to his stomach at all that he’d done. This was truly all his fault and the guilt was beginning to unravel him. His grandmother though, was not yet done figuring this out. “So what did she say about it all? How did she take the letter?”

“She hasn’t responded,” Killian said hopelessly, bringing his phone up to check again. Yet again, nothing. Silence from his Swan.

“She probably needs time,” his grandmother said sympathetically. “And you’ll give her just as much time as this procession lasts before seeing her.”

“But the events after -,”

“Are not your concern,” his grandmother said vehemently. “You are hereby excused from those.”

“Gran, it’s not that simple. Viscount Mabrey -,”

“Viscount Mabrey can hang,” his grandmother said with a viciousness he’d never witnessed. It wasn’t refined but it was real, and he agreed with the assessment entirely. As the man who was leading this circus of speculation about his life, Mabrey was Killian’s worst enemy at the moment. “And I don’t care what Liam says. You shouldn’t even be here. Making you choose between Emma and the family… It’s just cruel, never mind undignified and unfeeling.”

“He doesn’t know about her,” Killian said and Gran laughed. She actually laughed and shot him a look like he was foolish.

“Are we speaking of the same Liam, your elder brother? The King of this country and sovereign of this crown, not knowing every last detail at play in his kingdom? Unlikely. No, he knows about her. Jefferson will have told him,” Gran said, prompting discomfort in Killian’s gut. Then she appeared to look a bit more forgiving as she weighed the possibilities. “Though perhaps no one has realized her ignorance on your origins. I certainly didn’t know.”

Killian’s brow furrowed at her comment, but his confusion was distracted by another question from her. “Did you ask her to come here at all? To see you? What are we to expect?”

“She was never planning to watch the procession, and I can’t imagine she’d want to now,” Killian confirmed, reiterating what Emma had told him previously. “She and her son were planning to go to the beach for the day, and no matter what state she may be in,” his throat closed up at admitting that she’d be hurting because of him. “Emma would never break a promise to her boy. They’ll likely miss the whole thing.”

“Mmm,” his grandmother replied. The hum was so noncommittal it only added to Killian’s agitation. But then she turned to him and looked serious. “Well you answer me this, Killian, and be warned if you lie not even the Gods of old can help you, do you truly care for the girl?”

“Yes.” In fact, caring for Emma was an understatement. His feelings, new as they were, went so much deeper than that.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” he admitted, knowing that this bond he felt to her was not a fleeting sort of fancy. He did love Emma, for all her many pieces. The way she loved helping people, the nurturing way she always had, the light in her eyes, the lilt of her laugh. She was perfect and good and true, and he never had any hope of deserving her, but damn did he want to. So badly it left an ache in his chest.

“And is there anything you won’t do to make this up to her?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied firmly, knowing that promise was absolute.

That was part of what was killing him now. He wanted to go this instant and beg forgiveness like a man. To look her in her eyes and explain to her how this had all come to be. Yet he couldn’t even give that to her. He was bound by a duty to his family, and he had never resented that duty more in his life. Even now he considered the merits of being here. He could go, show her how much she meant to him, and how she’d always come first from now on. But doing that would only humiliate his family. It would add flames to the fire and mean giving up the loyalty he’d always had for the people he was closest to.

“Good.” She answered, nodding her head and clapping her hands together in a matter-of-fact manner. “Well, dear, sometimes people make bad choices, and when they do, they must make amends. That’s all that can be done. You must do everything you can to make this right. It’s as simple as that,”

“That’s it? No sage counsel or particular detail on how to go about it?” Killian asked. He was desperate for guidance here. Should he call her? Should he wait? Should he go to her? What was he meant to do? What could be done at this point?

“My dear, the mistakes of men are frequent and seemingly unending. A queen does herself no favors getting mired down in them,” she said with a sigh, not helping him with the reminder that he was among those mistaken men. But she shook her head and then affectionately patted his arm in a sign of support. “Just remember this: your heart always knows which way to go. You’ll make this right, and when you do, I’d like to officially meet this young woman. All right?”

“Okay, Gran.”

With a quick pat to his cheek, his grandmother turned and entered the carriage with his mother who was watching curiously. The two of them shared a few words, but Killian didn’t pay much mind, for at the same moment Liam descended from the palace and things began moving rather quickly. It was time for them all to depart, and Killian could only gear himself up for what would be a painful few hours and hope that everything would somehow be okay.

…………………….

Waking up this morning, Emma had to admit to herself that she was really and honestly happy. The feeling was somewhat new for her, certainly in such a bold and front and center way, but after yesterday with Killian it was impossible to feel otherwise. The hope that he’d inspired in her and the heat that she still felt all these hours later, all prompted a smile she let loose as soon as she woke, and that had stayed with her all morning. To know that this man who had her tied up in knots felt the same way made her feel like a kid with their first crush. But despite the strange fluttering in her chest that came and went, and the constant distraction that her mind seemed plagued with these days, she didn’t actually hate it. If anything, Emma craved this feeling, loving that for the first time in so many years she felt eager to take a chance on something and someone other than herself and her son.

She’d been ready to take that step a while ago, feeling the draw to Killian for some time now, but after yesterday and that kiss, she was totally lost. She may be guarded, but Emma Swan was no fool. She could admit defeat when beaten, and right now her interest and her hope that this might be something real and true had won out. Hours later she could still taste him on her tongue. She felt the silky strands of his hair on her fingertips and the hard lines of his body pressed against her. The heat and the spark between them was all consuming, and the look in his eyes when they broke apart and he promised he’d see her soon -

“Mom, do you think I should bring my snorkeling mask or my regular goggles?”

Emma jumped at Henry’s question, which forced her out of her daydream so quickly she had whiplash. She shook her head, reminding herself that this was not the time or place. She was on Mom duty right now and she was supposed to be packing their lunch and snacks for the beach. But last night, when she was alone and all her responsibilities were met for the day, she’d allowed herself to imagine what could have happened if things were different. Would the moment have lasted longer? Would it have ended at the preserve?

“Mom?” Henry asked, his brow furrowed in confusion at her continued distractedness.

“Sorry, kid. Let’s go with snorkeling. It’s been hard for you to find the space to do that to this point, but I think today you’ll have the room to try.”

Henry agreed with her thinking and raced back to his room to grab his things while Emma chastised herself for her wayward thoughts. Now was totally not the time to be caught up in thoughts of Killian, hard as it might be to resist. She and her kid were spending the day together and she needed to focus on that. Henry and her had planned this outing all week, and she wanted to be present with him, even if a niggling though in the back of her mind wondered what it would be like if Killian was coming too. She already knew that Henry and he would get along. Killian had a way of making every kid he met love him, and her son was smart. He read people even better than she did, and Henry loved a good story, which Killian had plenty of.

“Someday maybe,” Emma whispered aloud as she packed the sandwiches in their temperature-controlled bag, but she knew there was no maybe. If things headed where she hoped they would, Killian and Henry meeting would come to pass, and probably soon. But for now, she’d soak in these precious moments with her kid and enjoy a little R and R down at the seaside.

Placing all of their picnic supplies in one bag and double checking that her tote had sunscreen, books, and other things they’d need down by the water, Emma stayed focused on her task. She took comfort in the mental checklist she had going, and when she was confident that they had everything, Henry appeared, carrying his snorkeling gear and smiling a megawatt smile that made her heart so happy.

“You have everything you’ll want for the day?” Emma asked and when Henry nodded she gave him another chance to double check. “Remember we won’t be home until late.”

“I know, Mom. We’re still going to the Center for a visit right? Cook said she’s making that fancy chocolate cake again!” Henry said, nearly as excited by the prospect of this dessert as he was for their beach day.

“Yup. I already told Marco to expect us. Dinner will be served at six thirty.”

Henry threw his fist into the air in some kind of celebratory move and Emma laughed at his antics, shaking her head and looking to all the stuff they had to get out the door and to the coastline. “And you’re totally sure you don’t need to see the parade? It may be fun,” Emma suggested, but she secretly hoped Henry would want to stick to their original plan.

“No way! Beach beats parade every day of the week. Especially this beach. It’s the best!”

Emma appreciated her son’s dedication to sunshine and the seaside. Truth be told, she and Henry had been burned by enough New York parades to be a little jaded. They always sounded like a whole lot of fun in theory, but there was a huge crowd of people which Emma never loved, and at every event there were people who just wanted to get wasted. It was pretty stressful as a parent, and Henry never really liked the noise. He was a quieter kid and preferred more peaceful moments, which were rare when living in the city. As such, they tended to avoid big events like this and made a habit of being wherever the masses weren’t. Today they’d decided the beach might be a good option. They’d managed to go a few times since arriving, and it was always fun but busy. Today they may have more space to themselves, and both she and Henry loved the idea of a beach to themselves.

It was still wild to Emma that they lived in a city with such easy access to a coastline, and not some questionable harbor view, but glorious, magazine worthy beaches. Everyone who lived here acknowledged that they were a hidden gem, and Emma knew if the world ever got wind of what they were missing in this tiny country then flocks of people would descend. She hated to imagine that though, since most of the charm of this country came from its authenticity. There were no touristy gimmicks or ploys. People here were just people, welcoming and friendly, not driven by a dollar. It was totally refreshing and deserved to be preserved and protected. It also made Emma think all the time that maybe she was doing Henry a disservice living in New York. Montenarro wasn’t really a viable option forever, at least she couldn’t bring herself to hope they’d be that lucky, but there must be other places in the US where she could find a job that had more of these things they loved. They’d miss Mrs. and Mr. H, but they were retired now and always talked about their want to travel. Who knew, maybe something could work out?

“Okay Mom, I’m ready to go. We better get a move on.”

Emma took in Henry all decked out in his beach gear and ready to trek across the city and she bit back another hearty laugh. Her boy was an adventurer through and through. He loved anything that felt like a quest and right now he was harnessing all the energy of kids in the throes of some magical imaginary universe. She loved his propensity for this kind of excitement, so she attempted to match it, gathering her things and saluting him as their leader as the left the apartment and locked the door behind them.

As they headed out, Emma couldn’t help thinking that she hoped the kids at the institute were having a good start to their day. This year none of the children would be attending the parade. Apparently there were some issues in years past with some older kids running off to meet friends and younger kids getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the festivities. It turned out to be a logistical nightmare for the staff, and so they decided they’d have their own celebration at the same coves along the cost that the older kids had driven to weeks back. Almost everyone, save the very little babies, would be going, and Emma and Henry had been invited as well. She’d come so close to saying yes, especially when she thought about seeing Cecelia and the others enjoying their day at the beach, but she knew there was a lot of time left to share such memories with them all and that tonight they’d join everyone for dinner and some fun and games. For now, she wanted to make sure her son felt special and supported. He was such a good sport about being in camp all the time while she worked and went to school. She didn’t think that he resented it even a little, but she felt like her first duty was to be a good mom and to give Henry the attention and affection he so rightly deserved.

“Excuse me, Miss?” a woman with bright red hair asked just by their front door. Emma recognized her peripherally. She’d definitely seen her in the neighborhood before. “Are you Emma Swan?”

“I am,” Emma said, and the woman let out a relieved breath. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. My name is Merida. I live just there,” she pointed to the other house out here on the side street. “We received this this morning – or well my daughter did. I love the girl but if you catch her half asleep, she’ll say anything to shut you up and head on back to bed. Anyway, a royal courier came to deliver this earlier, asking for an Emma Swan, and she swore that’s who she was, took it, and then promptly fell asleep. I’m so sorry for the delay, I only just saw the thing in her room. But I promise it was never opened. As you can see the seal is still very much intact.”

“It’s no problem,” Emma said accepting the letter which was addressed in beautiful script. It had her name on it and a seal on the back with the same lettering as the foundation. She smiled, thinking it must be from the kids. They were so excited for their celebration today that she could totally see them making fancy invites and using an institute seal for adornment. She also didn’t think anything of a ‘royal courier.’ That was a thing in Britain too, right? It was the queen’s post or something. Countries with monarchies were just cute like that.

“Oh good, hopefully it’s nothing too timely,” Merida said with relief. “But either way you best believe my Iona received a stern talking to this morning.” Just then a bang came from Merida’s house and they all looked over there. Emma and Henry were concerned, but Merida only sighed and shook her head. “Those blasted boys of mine will be at it again. Dead set on turning every last hair on my head gray. Anyway, apologies again, and perhaps we can have you two over some time. I’ll do my best to wrangle this motley bunch before you do, aye?”

Merida made the offer even while jogging back into her house and Emma and Henry barely had time to say sure before she was back inside. They turned to each other and just shrugged, laughing. Then Henry pointed to the letter. “What do you think it is?”

“Probably something from the institute. But nothing that can’t wait for the beach,” Emma replied, and Henry smiled, following her down the lane in the direction of their plans.

Slowly but surely they made their way down the roads, but the more they walked, the more the patterns of foot traffic began to change. When they started, there were very few people along the street, but the further they went the fuller the streets became. Soon they were overrun with people, and admittedly all of them seemed to be having a great time without any kind of discernable drunkenness or issues.

“Wow, today must be a bigger deal than we realized,” Henry said, his eyes taking in the same sight as her, which was their increasingly familiar neighborhood flooded with happy parade goers.

“No kidding. Are we sure this isn’t the berry fest you read about?”

“They’re called montecaris, Mom. And no, that’s in August. It lasts a whole week. Today’s about a battle that happened a long time ago or something.”

“Must have been some battle,” Emma said. Looking back at Henry, she was struck with worry that he might feel like they were missing something big, especially when confronted with the throngs of people out here celebrating. “We could probably put the beach off a bit if you wanted to watch…”

“No way! I’ve got a full day planned and we’re already late. We gotta get going.”

Emma agreed and stuck her hand out for her son, more as precaution than anything else. With the crowds growing so dense she didn’t want to get separated from him. Henry understood and stuck close to her, but Emma noticed that the people congregated out here today for the celebrations were so much kinder and less intrusive than people back home. This might be a big party for people, but it wasn’t at the expense of families and non-celebrators. No one was taking things too far, and it made maneuvering through the streets much easier than expected, which Emma appreciated. They actually made great time, all things considered, but towards the end of their journey they hit a roadblock, quite literally.

“The road’s closed, but how will we get to the beach?” Henry said with a sad effect that reminded Emma of when he was younger. He never whined, her son, but he did get a teensy bit dramatic. It had much more impact in her opinion, and the pang of sympathy she felt at his disappointment had her rethinking this strategy.

“Excuse me, miss?” Emma asked a woman who looked to be walking with her own young children. “Do you have any idea how we could get to the beach?”

“The footbridge is still open,” the woman offered. She pointed them in the right direction and Emma remembered seeing it a few times while coming in and out of the city. It wasn’t far from here, and she and Henry were grateful for the insight. They made their way in that direction, and by chance they had to walk the parade route to get there. As such they were seeing so much of the parade while still heading to the beach.

“Kind of feels like the best of both worlds, huh Mom?” Henry asked and Emma nodded. It was really something to be sure, and as they walked they saw all sorts of processions. People in traditional dress dancing, musicians, acrobats. There were soldiers dressed up in old regalia and veterans from wars long past, but it didn’t seem like anything out of the common way. Only when the footbridge was in sight did the air seem to change around them and the whispers all began.

“They’ll be out soon, Mama,” a little boy said jumping up and down. “King Liam and his horse!”

“Yes, darling. They’ll be here any moment. Look, here they come.”

Henry was the one to stop moving at this point, drawn into the promise of seeing actual royalty in the flesh. Emma stopped with him and looked out into the street, feeling a flutter of intrigue as she did. Watching the procession at this stage felt like stepping into a movie. There were guards in their stately dress and horses with people she assumed must be some kind of current soldiers. All of the steeds they rode in on were darker, but behind them were white stallions drawing a carriage. Wow, she thought those were a figment of imagination. People really rode in those? Emma supposed they must, and then she got a good look at the women in the cart and she was convinced they must be royalty.

The way these two women were dressed was pristine and beautiful, and both women wore tiaras in their hair that reflected the light so beautifully in the summer sun. From what she could tell, both of them were older, though one was raven haired and the other had shifted to a silky silver. Emma wracked her brain trying to remember what she’d heard in passing about the royals. She knew there was a reigning Queen before who was much older, and apparently good friends with the Queen in England. She’d stepped down from her post years back, however, and now there was a King. She’d seen him, King Liam, on magazine covers in the grocery store. He was young, but always looked so serious, and Emma imagined he must be somewhere here too.

Sure enough, when the carriage passed there were two black horses, both giant, like Clydesdales. Both had royal riders as well, and Emma knew the first one was King Liam. He looked just as serious now as he had in the photos, and Emma wondered if it was hard to be King. It must be all-consuming, but still, a smile wouldn’t kill anyone, would it?

“Wait, Mom, that’s the King!” Henry said, his attempt at a whisper coming out comically loud. “He’s so big. I bet he’s super strong.”

Emma couldn’t argue with the assessment, and the stateliness of the man looked even more imposing in his formal regalia astride a horse. But there was something about him that was familiar. The darkness of his hair under his crown and the square of his jaw evoked something in her, and so, she realized, did the particular shade of blue of his eyes. She had trouble placing it before, but now she knew they looked like Killian’s. How strange that she should think that. She was only reminiscing the other day that she’d never seen eyes like his anywhere before.

Intriguing as the connection was, Emma didn’t think much of it. Instead her eyes moved to the other horse, and immediately her heart lurched. Was that? Oh my God, that was Killian! Her Killian, and he was…

“Prince Killian’s here this year!” a young girl said on the street beside them with awe. “Wow he really is handsome, just as handsome as King Liam, don’t you think, Mama?”

“Undoubtedly, dear,” the mother said but Emma barely heard them. She was stuck with the glaring and absolutely crazy realization that the man she’d been circling around for weeks, the man who’d kissed her senseless only yesterday, was a Prince. Like an actual, full-blown, royal. She was stunned and shocked, so thrown by this twist she hardly knew which way was up. All she could do was take this in and try to make sense of it all.

From where she stood in the crowd, Emma could see that Killian was dressed in the same uniform as his brother. Medals of valor covering his coat to a much higher degree than the King, so much so they almost didn’t fit. Despite being astride a horse, everything about him looked impeccable. The lines of his clothes were crisp and unforgiving, and his form on the stallion spoke to extensive experience. Still, she couldn’t say he looked comfortable up there. His expression was not nearly so serious as Liam’s, but Emma could see his uneasiness, even if it was subtle. Many others may not realize, but Emma saw pain in his eyes. Even now, when thrust into confusion and disarray, Emma felt like she could read him. He was uncomfortable up there, being ogled at by so many people and hearing all the noise and celebration. Still he was gorgeous, looking gallant and regal and all too good to look away from.

Seeing him this way filled her with a chaotic sense of conflictedness – on the one hand she still saw the same man she felt herself falling for, but on the other hand he’d shielded the truth from her. He was a prince, a freaking prince! And she was… well just Emma. It made her sick to her stomach to think about how much must separate them. She’d already felt the pressure of that just thinking he was rich and foreign, but throw royalty into the mix and she felt unbelievably foolish. This could never work. She was delusional if she thought that the two of them could amount to anything more than a mere flirtation given everything, and a wave of dread and despair crashed over her. She felt feint from the mix of sadness and betrayal and her heart was pounding in her chest. Panic began flowing. She had to get out of here.

As if her distress called to him in some way, Killian’s attention diverted from the procession and he looked into the crowd. In a matter of seconds his gaze found her, and she saw the look on his face, feeling the impact too acutely. He was surprised by her being there, and then looked pained himself. She was too stunned to move, but he didn’t feel the same. He stopped his horse, and looked about to climb down when a voice called out to him.

“Killian!” It came from the King, Emma and Killian both looked to him and Liam looked to Emma before turning back to Killian and shaking his head. “Not now.”

Emma didn’t know how to take that. Was he saying not now as in ‘not now, we’re in the middle of a parade here’ or as in ‘not now with your inappropriate and unacceptable life choices’? The former made sense to Emma, but the latter was what she was afraid of. Here she was, a totally normal person, a single Mom from another place with no freaking clue he was even a prince. What was Killian even thinking when it came to her? She was dying to know but also too afraid to face it. Killian, meanwhile, looked liable to go against his brother but he ultimately looked to her and she read the greatest wish of his heart as clear as day.

I know I fucked up, Emma. I know this is crazy, but please let me explain. She even watched his lips move and she read his words “please, Emma.” Her heart clutched in her chest. She closed her eyes unsure of what to do and then Henry pulled at her hand. Emma broke her attention away from this earth-shaking revelation and looked to her boy.

“You okay, Mom? You look a little funny.”

“Uh, yeah, Henry, I’m fine. Just a lot of people,” she offered emptily. She hated to lie to her son, but what could she say? Something like, don’t worry kid, I just think I have a date set with the Prince and even though it’s completely insane and he hid this from me, I can’t bring myself to hate him? Or maybe, to be honest I was actually falling for this man, like really falling, and I don’t know if I can stop even though I have to because we live in different worlds and I feel like my heart is breaking in my chest? No that wouldn’t work either, so a lie it was.

“You want to go home?” He asked and Emma shook her head, knowing that home was just about the last place she wanted to be. She needed distraction from whatever the hell this was, and if she added disappointing Henry to the list of things she’d done today, she’d never get past this.

“No way.”

“Okay! Last one to the footbridge is a rotten egg!” Henry said, taking off, and Emma spared one last look at Killian before she left.

In his eyes she saw everything, grief, sorrow, an attempt at about a million apologies. This was wrong. He had really messed up and she was hurt by his choices, but despite it all a small voice in her heart told her not to run. She should give him a chance to explain, as hard as that might be. She deserved those answers, even if he didn’t. With her mind made up, she wanted to convey to him that this wasn’t totally over but only then did she realize that the parade had stopped. Everyone was distracted by something in the main carriage, but it wasn’t emergent. In fact, the people were laughing, but Emma had clearly missed the joke. She looked back to Killian, whose eyes were trained only on her, and without any more delay she nodded, a silent show that she would listen even if she was hurt and confused. She only saw the beginning of his relief take form, before heading back to her kid, and though it was incredibly hard not to look back, she pushed forward, knowing that right now she couldn’t engage with whatever was happening. It was just too much to contemplate and too overwhelming to consider without knowing the whole truth.

……………………………..

Oh, Dear Lord in Heaven, what a day it had been.

Public outings were always tiring to Queen Eleanor, despite her lifetime of participating in them. But today was especially energetic, and that was putting it kindly.

She still could not fathom how in the world her grandson had been so thoughtless. How could Killian think that keeping the truth for this long would be okay? Surely, he realized that the longer he waited to tell Emma who he was the worse it would be. And then today, seeing the moment where Killian and Emma noticed each other out there in the precession, was like witnessing a car wreck before her very eyes.

The fright she’d had was instant, and she gripped onto Meera’s arm so quickly her daughter-in-law had thought her ill. Then Meera looked to the crowd and saw Emma too and she herself was tense and worried. It was all so terrible. The shock on the poor girl’s face, the hurt in her eyes, but there was more too. There was strength there, and feelings under that hurt that did give Eleanor a bit of hope. Everything wasn’t lost, but it was getting damn close. Killian tried to go to her, as he damn well should, but then Liam scolded him, keeping him there. It took everything in Eleanor not to snap at her eldest grandson for interfering.

“It’s not safe, your majesty,” Jefferson whispered to her from his position close by, reading her frustration. “She’d be a target if the public takes notice.”

“Oh – oh - oh barnacles!” she said with frustration, before inspiration struck. “Stop the carriage!” she cried to the attendant and immediately he did.

“What are you doing?” Meera whispered, alarmed at the break in protocol, but hoping for a good explanation.

“Buying them some time. Keep watch of them. Be discrete but don’t miss anything. We need every detail we can get,” she whispered, before turning to the street and waving her hand to a nearby man. “Excuse me, sir, I just wanted to say your cap is absolutely delightful.”

The man was stunned at her comments, and he should be. This was absolutely untoward. Royalty never did anything like this, but damn the customs. This was her grandson’s life, his future, and she’d do anything she could to see it aided and improved. When the man on the side of the road collected himself, he smiled and blushed, an uncommon sight for a man of at least 65 years of age.

“Please, your majesty. Take it.”

“Oh I don’t think I -,”

“It would be an honor,” he said.

“Are they good?” she asked Meera quietly.

“Just a bit more time. Her son’s perked up now. What a beautiful boy. Reminds me of Killian at that age.”

“Focus, Meera.”

Eleanor nodded to the security team and the man came forward. Offering her the hat. She smiled at it, taking in the tacky mess of patriotic color and appreciating it for what it was – a colorful distraction from the moment. She made up her mind to commit to this idea, and the crowd gasped as she put it on her head and then laughed happily. Some people even cheered at her attire, praising the new look that must make her look positively ridiculous.

“Okay, we’re good,” Meera said and Eleanor smiled graciously to the man who’d provided this opportunity to distract.

“Thank you very much, sir. A happy holiday to you and yours,” she waved pleasantly before telling the footman to drive on.

She’d then proceeded to commit to this charade for the rest of the outing, taking different gifts from parade watchers across the city. Even Meera engaged, accepting some colorful beads and a flag from some children who brought them forth along the way. She didn’t dare look at Liam the entire time, but she knew, even if it was unusual, that this would be a win for the king in the long term. The people had responded marvelously, and she’d managed to help both her grandsons in their quests at the same time, thank the Gods.

As soon as they arrived back at the palace, Killian was off like a shot, readying himself to go see Emma. They spoke with him briefly inside the palace before his departure, but she didn’t dwell on those important words now. Eleanor still didn’t know where he’d eventually find her or if he already had, but she hoped he would. Now though, hours later, Queen Eleanor was hiding out, trying to avoid another conversation that must eventually come.

“So are you going to tell me what that was all about today?” Liam asked, causing her to jump from where she was in the quiet of the library. Her hand came over her heart instinctively and she scowled at him.

“You take great liberty, my dear, scaring an old woman like that.”

“I take liberties?” he asked with a laugh. “Gran if this is another of your jokes, I’ll tell you now I don’t understand it and I’m not amused.”

“I know, my dear, but I just had to do it. Killian and Emma needed time.”

“You know about her?”

“Know about her, who do you think found her in the first place -,” Oh blast it! She wasn’t supposed to say that. Rats, now she had to tell him everything. This was not what she’d wanted at all.

“So you and Mum, you’ve been planning this,” Liam said some time later when the truth was revealed. “You’re matchmaking. Does Killian know?”

“No, he most certainly does not.”

“He’ll be furious when he finds out.”

“The moment she forgives him he’ll be nothing short of ecstatic.”

“And so that’s when you’ll tell him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Gran.”

“Liam,” she parroted, knowing she sounded like a child but not caring.

“Bloody hell, Gran, I don’t know how you manage it,” Liam said, shaking his head as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

“I manage this family with the wisdom, grace, and know-how of a professional, Liam. You’d do well to remember that.”

He muttered to himself some things she couldn’t hear, but then he squared his shoulders and grew serious. “Look, Gran, as long as you promise not to interfere anymore, I will keep your secret.”

“When you say interfere -,”

“Gran, leave this to Killian. He needs to do this himself. Please.”

“All right dear, I will leave it alone.”

“Good. And you and Mum better not be planning anything like this for me.”

“You really think there’s just another woman who happens to be at the institute who would also be perfect for you?”

“No,” Liam laughed, forgetting the promise he asked for in the face of what he saw as a lunatic notion. Little did he know there was such a woman, and the ball was already in motion on that front as well. Still Eleanor did everything she could to shield that from him, attempting to appear the frazzled grandmother instead of a scheming assistant to cupid. Before he could press her further, a knock sounded at the door, Jefferson appeared, and Liam was called away. “We’ll finish this discussion later.”

“Not bloody likely,” she whispered under her breath and Liam raised a brow.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, dear. Nothing at all.”

Post-Note: Okay so there we have it. I keep making these chapters so much longer than I think I will, but there’s just so much I want to accomplish. I know it would have been better for everyone’s anxiety levels if I had Killian and Emma talk things out in this chapter but there simply was not time. Not to worry though, next week’s installment will definitely have that and I think you’ll all forgive me for my slight cliff hanger when you read the next chapter. Anyway, I would love to hear what you all are thinking and I appreciate every comment and review and message you guys have sent the past few weeks. It’s so awesome to have you all with me in this and I genuinely hope you’ll stick around to see what’s coming next. Anyway thanks so much for reading and have a great rest of your weekend! -Emily

[secret-engima]

You've got so much sad stuff for the Stand Strong AU, do you have any positive headcannons for it?

YES OF COURSE. Just- angst comes easily to me.

-Prompto has the entirety of the Kingsglaive as his doting older siblings. They love him. Would happily murder for him. They take great pleasure spending their days off playing with him and teaching him Cool Things (Luche made the mistake of teaching Prompto the art of Paintball Wars, now the teams fight over who gets the Prodigy Bby Sniper on their team because he’s basically a guaranteed win).

-Prompto also has a posse of little Galahdian kiddos in Little Galahd that he plays with, they are more than happy to include Noctis in their Pack and games after Prompto befriends the prince and drags him down there to play.

-Amissa adopts Prompto. Straight up adopts him. With Cor’s help because nobody is going to sneer at the Marshal’s new choice of parent for this poor bby.

-Everybody picture one of Noctis’s first Heats after he Matures. He is tired, and achy, and still not used this Heat thing, and MISERABLE, and for whatever reason he’s not in his quarters huddled up with Ignis. Gladiolus also isn’t there for whatever reason. Titus finds him. Titus’s brain instantly kicks into “bby. Distressed Bby. MY DISTRESSED BBY NOW HUSH BBY I WILL PROTECC YOU” and he scoops up the princeling and carries him around looking for Regis (because what is he doing his kingly duties can wait the PUP IS DISTRESSED HERE). Titus purrs gently and lets his scent out JUST A TEENY BIT, just so Noctis can relax at having a big, gentle alpha to cuddle with.

-Everybody picture the looks on the Citadel people’s faces when they spot Titus  piggybacking Noctis around, the little Omega purring up a storm and nuzzling a stoic-faced Titus every few seconds, then hissing in that way kittens do when they’re trying to be fierce but are actually tooth-rottingly adorable whenever someone other than his dad tries to take him away from Titus (Titus’s bass growl is considerably less cute and far more effective).

-Titus interrupts a council meeting to stride in with Noctis and gently plop the pup on his father’s lap, turns to leave and visibly FREEZES when Noctis whimpers for him and grabs his sleeve.

-Spends the rest of the very awkward meeting standing RIGHT by Regis’s chair, staring at the wall with a blank expression as if that will hide the fact that Noctis is happily sleeping in his dad’s lap and using Titus’s hand as a cuddle toy. Or that the deep, bass purr filling the room is NOT coming from any of the non-Galahdians in the room.

-All hail Amissa’s Momming habits. She uses her job as janitor to smuggle Proper Galahdian Food to the glaives. She also takes to leaving Cor snacks on his desk. Cor would appreciate the gesture more if she didn't somehow keep doing it while he’s there and yet completely escape his notice until he looks up and there’s the snack/sandwich/whatever.

-Everybody picture Noctis learning traditional Galahdian songs from the glaives after he gets the chance to know them. Everybody picture an off-duty lounge room filled with hardened, scentless soldiers all plopped down on the floor happily teaching a little Pup how to Properly Sing and getting into play fights over who gets to teach him the next one.

-Ignis learning to cook Proper Galahdian Food everybody. He has way too much fun with the spices, and the Galahdians only encourage him (RIP the tongues of anyone not of Galahdian blood, Cor Leonis crazy, or Galahdian-adopted).

-Gladiolus and Tredd have a hugely competitive Big Bro-Little Bro relationship. Gladiolus will constantly come looking for a spar, Tredd will happily indulge him and then mock him for “losing to an omega” every time Tredd flips Gladio on his back.

-Axis Arra is the Well Meaning Ghost of the glaives. Scary stealthy 80% unintentionally, he’s just that quiet and took to Amissa’s stealth lessons a little too well. Once the glaives and Regis come to a Proper Understanding, Regis likes to have Axis as his second guard during official functions because the man can alternate between Complete Invisibility and Scaring The Pants off annoying nobles by “appearing” at random.

-Galahdians will sing at the drop of any hat. It’s like a freaking musical down in Little Galahd, all you have to do is start singing something louder than a whisper and soon you have like twenty people joining in and kids dancing on beat.

-After Amissa and Cor FINALLY get into an official relationship, Amissa is required to attend some official function. Juno, Clarus’s wife, helps her get dressed in something fancy. Amissa finds it insta-worth it when she sees Cor waiting at the bottom of the steps and gets to see him visibly double-take and then lose all his words at the sight of her.

-Cor and Amissa are casual cuddlers. They don’t do it in public and don't make a big deal of it but these two are absolutely two giant cats and will flop on each other, lean on each other, nuzzle each other for literally no reason other than they love each other. It’s not like they intend to be a cuddly couple or are overly sappy, they just- like being near each other, feeling each other’s presence and knowing the other is okay. Thus, casual cuddles.

-Titus has two kids. He adopted them after their mother was killed even though the age gap between them isn’t all that large. He loves them dearly but doesn’t see them often as they currently roam Lucis with HIS adopted dad. This is both for safety reasons and because the daughter of the two has Wanderlust issues and her older brother is Overprotective. Their names are Stella and Virgil. He adores them even though he doesn’t see them for months at a time (don’t worry they’re teenagers, not kiddos, and are old enough to enjoy travel with their adopted grandad).

-Speaking of grandad- Titus and Amissa are adopted! They got adopted when they were teenagers and so were already feral jungle children but that’s okay because their adoptive dad is Just As Bad At Biology as they are. If not more so. He was something of a hermit/wanderer before he met them but stuff happened and he eventually decided that Someone Needed To Dad these two and the only person who was available was him and so even if he’s bad at this he guesses he has two teenagers now.

-What does he do with them how does he Dad. What do you mean you know nothing about Secondary Genders? Oh. Well. He doesn’t know anything either his father never bothered to explain it as a kid and his mother was dead so....

-Oh well it probably doesn’t matter that much who wants to know some tips for killing things with a pointy stick for food and how to make potions from natural ingredients?

-Not gonna say much more on Amissa’s adoptive dad other than that he Travels A Lot and he loves his two adopted kiddos and all the Glaives (who call him either grandad or gruncle) and has probably way too much fun enabling Stella’s Wanderlust. Also the first meeting between him and Cor is gonna be ... interesting. XP

[askbittyerror]

      The little bell above the front entrance gives a small ting as Moose opens it, the box of belongings heavy in his arms. He looks around the shop, pushing the door open the rest of the way and stepping through.

 This... this is finally it, the orca-like monster gulps. It’s his. Zoteara's Bitty Center. Or Moose's now, he supposes.

 Moose sighs, dropping his things by the door and shutting it with a swing of his tail. He flips on the light and walks over to the counter, pulling out the chair behind the register and sitting with his head in his hands.

 Stars, why was he even here? Why couldn't Aunt Anya had picked someone else to run the place after she retired? He was the worst monster for the job! He couldn't be bothered to change out of his pajamas most days, he panicked attacked himself out of college, he still flinched at raised voices, and every plant he'd ever tried to take care of had died! He was an absolute mess! But she still picked him! And he only accepted because-

 The bell rang again and he looks up, a smile on his face.

 That's right.

 Because Mom wanted him to.

 "Hey, sweetie." The white dog monster says, putting the box she carried on top the other one. "How are you holding up? Still nervous?"

 "Yeah..." Moose says, the long, red-tipped fins on his head falling slightly. "How could I not be? I've never done anything like this before."

 "Sure you have." His mother says, coming over to pull his head down and give his forehead a kiss. "You've helped me at the rehabilitation center your whole life."

 "'Helped' is a strong word..." Moose grumbles, pouting when his mother shushes him.

 "Nonsense, dear. You've always been a great help. The bitties love you and you're always so careful with them."

 "I tripped while carrying that Blueberry and fell on my face."

 "But you still kept him safe." She smiles, looking him in the eyes. "You tucked him close to your chest and broke your snout instead. He refused to leave your side until you healed and you two were bound at the hip until he got adopted."

 "And I cried for weeks, just like I always do when someone gets adopted. I'm not gonna be able to help customers without turning into a huge mess!"

 "That's what Huitzi’s for. He'll handle customer service and all you have to do is take care of the bitties." She says, giving him a gentle hug. "You two will make a perfect team."

 "Huitzi hates me!" Moose whines into her fur.

 "No he does not." His mother scowls, pulling back. "He's just bad at showing his emotions and-"

 The bell rings again and Moose tears himself away, relief on his face.

 "Papyrus!" He shouts, tightly hugging the humongous skeleton and tugging him down to whisper in his ear. "She's about to do the Huitzi lecture again, help."

 "Nyeh-heh-heh!" Papyrus whisper-laughs, squinting deviously behind his glasses. "Have no fear my friend, the Great Papyrus will protect you!"

 "Madame Dame!" He says, standing up straight and almost hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. "Might I regale you in my recent adventures in cookery?"

 Dame gives Moose a look of "I know what you're doing and you're not going to get away with it mister" but nevertheless nods.

 "Of course, Sugar." She smiles. "I always love hearing your stories. Why don’t we put Moose's things up and you can tell me all about it."

 Papyrus smiles enthusiastically, the braces on his teeth shining, and picks up both boxes, jogging up the stairs to the apartment without even breaking a sweat.

 Dame gives Moose a pointed look before following.

 "Huitzi will be here soon. Go check on the bitties."

      Moose nods and sprints to the back, not wanting to upset his mother any further.

 He unlocks the door to the backroom and swings it open, flicking on the light to a chorus of tiny groans.

 Moose smiles to himself.

 People? No thank you, people suck.

 But bitties? Bitties he loved.

He slips his bag over his shoulder and drops it on the table in the center of the room, the Tupperware box filled with breakfast thudding inside. There was food here for the bitties sure, but it was his first day on the job! He wanted to make a good impression, even though this was far from the first time he’s been here. And, he was feeling pretty good today, so he made breakfast! The really good kind that was so sweet and fattening that it left you feeling sick afterwards! He really hoped they liked it. He knew he did.

       Moose comes to the first little cubby set into the wall, reaching in and gently rapping his knuckles on the floor. He’s careful to avoid touching any of the strings. He knows what those little blue strands lead back to and he does not want a repeat of what happened the first time he was here. The lacerations and punctures wounds on his hands scarred, and even though the marks are faint against the deep blue of his skin, he doesn’t want to end up with more.

 “Excuse me, Error, Jay? Its eight a.m., time to get up. I brought breakfast.”

 “YAY, FOOD!” A blur of bones and blue feathers shrieks, launching himself at Moose’s face and hugging his snout. “I LOVE YOU NOW FEED ME!”

 Moose giggles, gently prying the bitty off while a pair of mismatched eyes watches him from the darkness.

 “I will, I will!” He says while Jay stares up at him with the cutest look he can muster. “I gotta get everyone else up first!”

 “Aw, come on!” The bitty whines, hugging his thumb. “Pleeeeeeeeeease?”

 Moose laughs again, shaking his head.

 “Go sit at the table, food’ll be served soon, I promise.”

 Jay pouts but jumps from the monster’s hand, spreading his wings and landing on the table with only a few flaps.

 Moose looks back at the cubby.

 “It’s chocolate cake pancakes.” Is all he says to the watcher, but that’s more than enough for the eyes to widen and then vanish.

 A delighted squeal, a tackle and glitchy screeching follow shortly after and Moose grins, moving to the next compartment in line.

       “Sup.”, Luke greets him, leaning casually against cubby’s side with his orange wings closed behind him. “Seems my bro’s excited this morning.”

 “He’s excited every morning.” Moose says back, smiling wider at the Swap Papyrus’ ensuing chuckle.

 “That he is.”, Luke says, glancing over his shoulder when he hears swearing and thuds. He looks back at Moose and shrugs. “Zack’s tryna find his pants. We’ll head to the table once he’s got ‘em.”

 Moose gives him a thumbs up and nods. That Edgy could never find his clothes in the morning. It was frankly concerning how often it happened, but as long as he didn’t have to think about why, he wasn’t too concerned.

       He moves on to the next cubby, grinning at the sight of Paladin pulling on the last arm of his jacket, carefully balancing his snoring brother on his other shoulder.

 “He up late again?” Moose asks, receiving a sigh in return.

 “He was doing something on the internet. Kept watching videos and cackling to himself.”

 “You fear for your safety?”

 “I expect to be pranked as soon as he regains consciousness.” Paladin says with an exasperated but fond look on his face.

 Moose laughs and steps to the side, gesturing behind him.

 “Well, you know where the table is, head on over when you’re ready.”

 “Of course.” Paladin says, dismissing him with a nod.

       On to the next pair then.

 “Hey, taxi’s here.” Moose says, holding out his hands to a very awake Dream bitty and a very not awake Nightmare bitty.

 “FUNK you.” The Nightmare grumbles, rubbing his eye and yawning.

 His brother smacks him upside the head and gives Moose a bright enough smile for both of them.

 “Thank you, but I think I got it today.” He says politely, grabbing one of the now very awake and very angry Nightmare’s tentacles and shortcutting them to the table.

 There’s a whole mess of yelling for a few seconds before it gets silenced by a soft kiss and Moose sighs, shaking his head. Nightshade and Thistle… Were a weird pair to say the least. Nice on Thistle’s part, but still weird.

      He moves on to the next one and-

 “WIGGITY WIGGITY WHATS UP BRAH?” A feathered bitty made of neon and enthusiasm yells, making Moose flinch.

 “Well, dang, sorry brah, I forgot you spook easily.” Fresh grins, both of them well aware that he’s not sorry in the slightest.

 “It’s fine.” Moose sighs, rubbing the bridge of skin between his white eyespots. “Just… Just get Drake and head to-”

 “The table, yeah, I know broski. Same dealio as always.” Fresh says, waving his hand dismissively.

 Moose sighs again and for a brief moment, the bright colors fade away to a more sedate navy blue, the Sans that makes up Fresh’s host giving him a genuinely apologetic smile before being overtaken by the eye melting garishness and infuriating smirk of his passenger.

 Fresh shoots the monster some radical fingerguns before heading back to get his host’s Papyrus and Moose sighs again, deciding to go ahead and move on to the large terrarium sitting against the back wall.

       He gently taps the glass enclosure, making a soft crooning sound and beams as he’s answered in turn, the shy smile of a Dust Lamia Papyrus looking back at him from the undergrowth. Moose picks up the wide scoop hanging off the side of the tank and holds it against a branch, patiently waiting while the bitty slithers up and coils on the plastic.

 “Ready to move, Ghost?” Moose asks, his voice gentle and soft.

 “Please wait f-f-f-for-” Ghost starts to say when his brother flings himself off a rock, Moose catching him easily with his free hand while the purple-tailed lamia cackles.

 Ghost gives his brother a dirty look and Moose just shakes his head, letting Dusty fully coil himself around his arm before taking the pair back to the table. He lays the scoop down so Ghost can get off, trying not to move as Dusty quickly navigates from one arm to the other and climbs down next to his brother. They both give him a smile, although Dusty’s seems more predatory than friendly, and Moose takes the scoop back, hanging it on its hook and letting the plastic tink against the glass.

 Moose just stands there and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Just one more.

 Then after that…

 Him.

       Moose tries not to pick favorites. Easier said than done, because he always likes one bitty over another no matter how hard he tries, but not picking least favorites…

 Now that was pretty much impossible.

 It’s not his fault, not really. That bitty was just so… weird. He was creepy!

 But also…

 He frowns, fins drooping.

 Really, really sad.

       He knew… He knew something had happened, before he came around. There was a period of time that his Ma just wouldn’t tell him about, no one would! He had asked and asked, but from his Aunts to his Uncle to the bitties to everyone-

 No one would say a thing.

 They would just look away and sigh.

 Moose didn’t know what happened.

 But he knew it left them different.

 Changed.

 And none more so than Rogue.

 From what he’d been told, Rogue wasn’t that great to begin with.

 He was dangerous, evil, didn’t care for anyone beyond what he could make them do and was just horrible in every way-

 But now it was like he had been broken.

 He didn’t move, he didn’t talk, he barely even ate-

 He just sat there.

 In this old, battered crate with dented walls and bent bars, painted with rust and filled with the shattered remains of a home.

 He would just sit, his back to the entrance, staring at this old star projector.

 Waiting for it to turn on.

 And when he did move, when he finally seemed alive-

 He was feral. A rabid, corned animal who screamed and thrashed and attacked anyone that came near with teeth and claws and everything he had.

 He would cry and wail and if he couldn’t go after someone else…

 He would go after himself.

 Moose had patched him up countless times after the other bitties had to practically beat him into submission, bandaging Rogue with delicate hands and wrapping where the bone had been clawed at and chipped with extra care.

 The bitty would always watch at him.

 Watch him with those tired, glitch filled eyes.

 And he would sometimes ask, his voice quieter than a whisper,

 “Kill me. Kill me, please.”

 …

 Moose would always call it a day after that.

 Text Papyrus, head over to his place, pun with Sans, watch some MTT, get strong armed into making an emergency therapy appointment.

 And then life would go on.

      “Hey, hey buddy?” A voice shakes him from his thoughts.

 It’s Ink, staring at him from his little dollhouse on the floor, looking at him from the roof with his brows furrowed in faux concern.

 “You alright there, pal?” He asks and Moose sighs, kneeling down and holding out a hand.

 “I’ll be fine.” He says, smiling weakly.

 Its clear Ink doesn’t believe him, but it’s not like he cares either.

 He just climbs aboard and points dramatically with his brush, proclaiming, “Onward!” and Moose drops him off at the table and ignores the looks, the questions of “Are you okay?” and “What’s wrong?”.

 And walks over to the crate.

      It sits on a low table and Moose crouches, balancing on his toes, his elbows on his knees as he looks inside.

 It’s dark.

 It’s dark but he’s there, he can see him.

 And he knows Rogue can see him too.

 He’s… Looking out for once.

 Looking directly at Moose-

 No.

 Looking beyond Moose. Looking at something that isn’t there.

 And he’s grinning.

 Grinning like he won the lottery

 Like he saw something amazing.

 Like all his dreams have finally been achieved.

 Like someone he loved has finally come home.

 Moose doesn’t move.

 Neither does Rogue.

 Error yells from the table.

 “Excuse me, I was promised chocolate cake pancakes! If you don’t introduce me to what exactly that is right the FUNK now I’m flipping this DIGGITY DARN table!”

 And just like that, the spell is broken.

 Moose coughs, his shifting his weight to his heels.

 “W- well, uh…” He says, hands clenching and unclenching, looking anywhere but ahead. “I’ll bring you some pancakes later, okay?”

       He doesn’t wait for an answer and stands, almost running back to the table to dish out food, shivers running down his spine.

 The bitties eagerly dig in and Moose sits, cramming his own portion into his mouth.

But he sees him still, out of the corner of his eye.

 And Rogue’s just there.

 Smiling.

   RP ASKS ARE OPEN

 YOU CAN TALK TO AND INTERACT WITH BITTIES

 YOU CAN TALK TO AND INTERACT WITH DAME

 YOU CAN TALK TO MOOSE. HE CAN NOT SEE OR TOUCH YOU.

 YOU CANNOT INTERACT WITH PAPYRUS

   WELCOME BACK

[iris-somnia]

Catch Up Tag 🌸

Tagged by beautiful angels @yeoldontknow​ to do this catch up tag. Thank you, dear!

1. What do you prefer to be called name-wise?

I use Iris here, but I have other pseudonyms on other profiles in order to protect myself. I never use my real name online.

2. When is your birthday?

Late February.

3. Where do you live?

I’m currently living in a hotel I can’t afford long term. I hope to find permanent shelter soon but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard as hell.

4. Three things you are doing right now?

I’m AFK fishing on Black Desert Online because they’re doing the fishing event that gives free money and if I can’t be rich irl, I can at least be the big cheese with an avatar that looks like an eight-year old forest nymph. I’m also listening to WayV because they’ve consistently held up as a good choice no matter what mood I’m in this year. In about 15 minutes, I’ll resume watching the Crown and doing my sticker book (my guilty pleasure during homelessness).

5. Four fandoms that have peaked your interest?

Honestly, I’ve avoided fandoms this year because people really don’t know how to take a breath and enjoy shit. Most kpop fandoms have a subset of older fans who I enjoy interacting with because they only talk about the music and performances, but there are other wings of fans who are so obsessed with winning and being all-powerful that I don’t even want to listen to the music anymore because it’ll feed the monster.

The accounts/mutuals who I’ve enjoyed the most this year have been Starlights, Insomnia, Sirens (Chloe x Halle), and Warriors & Weirdos (Aurora). I’m seeing some promising reasons to get back into video game fandoms but lord, there’s so much drama in most of the companies that I am holding back.

6. How has the pandemic been treating you?

No one in my immediate family has gotten sick, but I did have to bury my grandmother this spring and many family couldn’t come to her service because of the restrictions. Some of my colleagues have COVID. Many more lost their jobs because of it and most of them who were laid off were done so under false pretenses and I’m still mad.

I’m working remotely, but a budget scare earlier in the year motivated my employer to announce a furlough for many of us, only to rescind it a couple of days before it went live. By then, I had already lost my apartment and had packed all my shit in storage. I’ve been couch surfing and living in hotels since August and it’s cost me thousands of dollars. I’ve learned that when you don’t have a permanent address, people assume you’re a junkie even when you wash your ass. I’ve had a lot of disappointments this year in terms of human behavior, but vices like alcohol and beautiful women keep me level enough to stay out of the deep end. That, and I meditate a lot. 

I have lost all my patience with assholes though, especially ones who puff up at me in public like I’ll be intimidated and fold. Confrontation and avoidance are two sides of the same coin and I keep flipping it like a gambler. I’m either pretending they’re dead or I’m ripping a new asshole in a way that makes those eyes pop like “oh shitttttt.” When I’m no longer in survival mode with my housing, I hope to go back to understanding the nuances of lived experience. Until then, it’s eat or be eaten and I absolutely hate living black & white like that.

7. A song you can’t stop listening to?

Megan Thee Stallion - Realer. 

8. Recommend a movie?

1917 (2019) - It’s a British war film that has some of the best cinematography I’ve seen in many years. I was on the edge of my seat with chest pains but wow.

9. How old are you?

32

10. School, university, occupation, other?

Employed at a non-profit that profits off human suffering. I work there as a form of prostitution because of my student loans but I’m considering going into a different training program so I can leave and work for myself. It’ll take a couple years to save up.

11. Do you prefer heat or cold?

I refer 70 degrees F because my winter coat’s in storage.

12. Name one fact others may not know about you?

I have two history degrees and used to teach civics, U.S. history, and world history for a living. That’s why I’ve taken this year’s politics harder than your average citizen and it’s why my Twitter account is raging against elected officials half the time. Historians don’t shut off.

13. Are you shy?

Eh, not really anymore. I trained out of it because shyness kept me from earning money. Now I’m selectively withdrawn because I understand that the more people I interact with, the more likely I’ll need a nap. 

14. Preferred pronouns?

She/her

15. Biggest pet peeves?

1 - People not wearing masks when my region has run out of hospital beds.  2 - Ghosting with no explanation. I would rather be told, “I lied, I hate you,” because it gives closure. Ghosting always means billable therapy hours as I revisit why I’m preparing for a life alone. 3 - Not tipping food service staff. If you don’t tip food service workers, fuck you.

16. What is your favorite ‘dere’ type?

In anime/manga, I enjoy goudere characters for comic relief. 17. How would you rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be?

A solid 5 which will jump to a 7 when I have permanent shelter.

18. What is your main blog?

It’s a reblog of my non-kpop interests: @my-astral-wanderlust​

19. Is there something people need to know about you before they become friends?

Honestly, I probably should consider myself anti-friend or at least perpetually unlucky with my track record.

I go through periods of time where I can’t communicate well for medical reasons and it’s not a reflection on that friend as a person, but rather a challenge I’ve lived with since childhood. It could be walls of text or radio silence depending on how much I trust someone and that’s always to my own peril. Withdrawal from socializing is common during time periods when I know I’m likely to hurt someone’s feelings, especially if I love them and care about their emotional safety. I struggle a lot sharing vulnerabilities and true feelings to friends because I have many memories and experiences of people telling me they loved me and then using those vulnerabilities as ammunition to hurt me later. I’ve had many ex-friends lie about the kind of person I am when talking to friends/family, on everything from sexuality to appearance to interests to how we know each other. That, and many who claim to be my friend ditch me the moment I call out shitty behavior like lying to me or not keeping promises. 

With that kind of track record, I’ll take a nice dog. Trusting people is almost unattainable and while it’s a sad state of affairs, I’d rather not get actively hurt constantly.

tagging: ...I think a lot of my mutuals have already been tagged here but my memory isn’t good right now. Sooo if you want to be tagged, consider yourself tagged!

[writingmilo]

F̶a̶m̶i̶l̶y̶ ̶R̶e̶u̶n̶i̶o̶n̶ Maya: Chapter 13

Part 3 of Flipped AU

Masterpost

TRIGGER WARNINGS: GUN VIOLENCE, MANIPULATION, HOSPITAL SCENES, DRUG MENTIONS

Surely the emergency line couldn't be this full, Kenna thought as she waited for an operator to pick up the call.

By the time she returned to the kitchen, nothing seemed to have changed. Maya’s uncles were still attacking Anti on the floor, and Maya was still twitching as she started to wake. Nobody even noticed when Kenna crossed the room to hold Maya, petting her hair and covering her ears so she didn’t have to hear Anti’s pleas and cries.

Maya slowly started to regain her senses, but Kenna kept her hands covering her ears, preventing her from turning her head to see what was going on. But that couldn’t last forever, and when Maya started glitching Kenna let go.

Everyone was so concentrated on attacking Anti that they didn’t notice her regaining consciousness. Maya knew this, and she knew there was a way that this could be stopped.

“Kenna,” she whispered, “In Chase’s recording studio, there’s a fake panel, two in from the door hinges.” Maya fell back on the floor, as if she had never woken up, and Kenna left to the dining room, knowing she would be safer that way.

She ran through the corridor; luckily Maya had given her a half-tour, showing her the library and important rooms to avoid. Chase’s recording studio was one of the latter.

In the room, she counted the panels and tried pulling them off. On the fourth attempt, she found the right one, and there was a small hole inside the wall. Reaching inside it, her hand touched something cold, and as she pulled it out, she saw what it was.

A gun.

She hid it inside her jacket and ran back the way she came, meeting Maya in the dining room.

“How did you know about this?” Kenna questioned as she handed the gun to Maya.

“I-I don’t know, it’s just something I knew. I never knew about it before though, nobody ever told me.” Maya was glitching as she held the gun. Anti had taught her how to use one, knowing that his brothers would always be around and dangerous, but in the heat of the moment Maya was struggling to remember. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, she had it, and she unclicked the safety. 

As calmly as she could manage, she walked out back into the kitchen, and holding the gun in both hands, she screamed, “Stop! Everyone stop it!”

They all turned to look at her, laying off Anti as they realised what was happening.

“You don’t know how to use that Little Duck, put it down before somebody gets hurt.” Maya shook and glitched, but the shaking of her head was an obvious no.

“Don-” Anti coughed and spluttered, “Don’t be so… so sure… I taught her a lot...”

Chase tried a different approach to Jackie, hoping that their hold on her was still strong.

“Now Little Duck, what have we told you about glitching?” She turned, pointing the gun at Chase as he spoke, but it was clear she was conflicted.

“No, you lied to me… you lied to me...” her voice was soft, her mind trying to find fault, who was wrong. Everything was so wrong.

Whilst everyone was frozen, Anti managed to climb to his feet. Having basically lived with Kenna for the past few years he understood as she signed “police” over her stomach.

“Together?” He replied, keeping his hands low and his movements small. Kenna nodded.

“May,” Kenna took a step towards Maya, and placed her hand on her shoulder. Maya glitched in shock as she felt the touch, enveloping Kenna’s hand in her static for a split second.

Kenna understood how scared she was, and gently took her shaking wrists, pushing her arms towards the floor. 

“Pumpkin,” Maya didn’t respond to her pet name, shattering Anti’s heart.

“Maya, it’s Anti, it’s papa. Everything is okay now,” he took a step towards her, glitching through the crowd of enemies. “I’ll protect you.” More steps, each time whispering words of comfort. All he had to do was get to her before the police showed up. That was all.

As the sirens sounded down the street, he was a pace away, but he managed to grab the gun from her hands and point it back at his brothers before they could start to move.

The brothers, once again held at gunpoint, started swearing, and continued to try and coerce Maya into returning to them.

“Little Duck, we can protect you, we can protect you from everything.” Jackie started, knowing what was about to come.

“We know where you live Little Duck, you’ll never be safe unless you’re with us.” Marvin continued.

“Think about all the questions you’re going to have to answer, they’ll think you’re lying Maya.” Maya looked up at Chase’s final blow.

“I… I’m not… I’m not lying… You lied, you all lied...” Slowly she started glitching, stronger and stronger. Slowly she became less tangible, a flickering ghost. Slowly she moved, becoming stronger inside the circle of her uncles. And as she calmed, she became human again, this time with the gun held loosely in her hand.

It was perfect. Jameson took the gun from her hand, as Chase hugged her. “You see? That wasn’t so hard was it?” Maya shook her head as he let go. “And this is what you get for it.” Jameson passed the gun to Chase, who shoved it into the side of her head.

Before anything else could happen, the door burst down, and police swarmed in.

“Police, put your hands where I can see them!” Six pairs of hands went up, Chase holding Maya still as he kept the gun pressed against her head. Shielded by the others, the police officer couldn’t see the danger Maya was in.

“I said hands where I can see them!”

“Like this then?” Chase turned the two of them around, showing the officer the gun and hostage.

“Sir, put the gun down.” The police officer tried to reason with Chase. “Let the child go.”

“Hmmm, I’d rather not. My life ends either way, why not ruin some others?” He gestured with the gun as he spoke, forcing it further into Maya’s head as he finished, causing her to whimper.

“Please Uncle Chase...” Maya pleaded. It was the first time she had ever referred to any of them as her uncle, and it took Chase by surprise. “I forgive you.”

“Forgive me? I’ve done nothing wrong little duck! You must be confused! Isn’t she, she’s confused!”

“Okay then, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t the niece you wanted me to be when you kidnapped me. After all of this we can fix that.” Chase didn’t know that the house was now surrounded by armed police.

“Really?” He loosened his grip on Maya, turning her to face him. She nodded, and he pulled her in for a hug. Anti turned to Kenna, utterly confused, but turned back at the strangled cry of Chase, who’s stomach had just met Maya’s knee.

“You little shit!” He doubled over, and Maya pushed through the other’s racing for Anti. Before she reached him, Chase had grabbed the gun and shot it. 

“Maya!” Anti closed the final few steps, cradling Maya as Kenna grabbed a towel to press on the wound. The bullet had entered her chest, but they didn’t know if it had hit anything. Armed police raced in after the gunshot, tackling Chase to the ground and putting him in handcuffs. Next came the paramedics, needing to get to Maya. All the while, the uncles stood in silence, while Anti and Kenna huddled together, watching the paramedics placing Maya on a stretcher and moving her out of the room.

After that came the rest of the police, coming to question the witnesses and secure the scene.

Anti cared about none of that, he only cared that the second he had got Maya back his brothers took her away again.

Anti and Kenna were taken to the hospital after their statements were taken. When they arrived, there was no Maya to see though, for she was in surgery as they tried to remove the bullet.

As they waited, a  nurse came out to speak to them. “You must be Miss Williams’ family?” They nodded. “Okay, would you like to come with me.” She led them to a small room. “Maya is in theatre for her gunshot wound. The bullet entered just above the heart, but went straight through her left lung. It then rebounded off her rib and got stuck in her collar bone after shattering some of it. The bones won’t be too hard to fix and should have few repercussions into the future, however the lung, whilst not being fatal, will take more time to heal.” Anti nodded.

“Okay, but that’s it? That’s not too bad.”

“No, considering where the bullet was aimed she has been very lucky. However, there are some other things we need to inform you off.” Anti knew that this was going to be the list of damage caused by his brothers. “Well, firstly, she has a build up of scar tissue around many of her vital organs, without having any visibly scarring on the surface. She also has a small fracture in her skull, and bruising on the muscle and flesh of the head. As well, she has traces of flunitrazepam, a common date rape drug, and phenothiazine, a drug used for psychosis. Do you have any idea why she might have these in her system?”

“It will have been my brothers. They kidnapped her. Does the psychosis drug have sedative properties?” The nurse nodded. “They’ll have given them to her.”

“Mr Williams—”

“Murphy, Mr Murphy, please.”

“Of course, Mr Murphy, you understand that we will have to report this to the police?”

“I would hope so, it was one of them that shot her.” He stood up. “Is that all?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” The nurse was still struggling to get over the shock of what he had just told her.

“Then I would like it if we could return to the waiting room to wait for Maya.” Anti placed his hand on Kenna’s shoulder and guided her out.

...

So... that ending huh? There will be an epilogue coming out soon, but this is the final chapter. This is the first big project I’ve ever completed and since coming up with the idea I have absolutely fallen in love with all the characters, as well as you guys who share your reactions with me. Vanessa and Sam, I adore seeing what you put in the tags, and Kate, I love seeing what you say outside of the tags. Just thank you, thank you thank you thank you so so so much. ~A. Xx

@kate807 @bloodygoldensam @unsuredoodles @septicuniverse @the-yandere-kitsune @atomicsepticeye @maybekatie @simsepticfan @theluckoftheclaws @thelunarmasquerade @friezzzboiii @widdendream5 @honestlyitsjustkenna @goldenoceanaart @septicart-appreciation @the-rampaige @a-faithful-fanartist @galiacolanna @novelistgeek

[hollybriars-blog]

hello !! my name is parker && i’m 19 years old.  i’m kinda shy , so i rarely reach out to anyone first . however , the way to my heart is dogs && ghosts. which , while a weird combination ... they make my heart go uwu . 

okay so this bio is kinda  ... not good . but i wanted to get it out so i can write !!!! so here you go , under the cut is a rather lengthy bio for my lil brat . i hope u guys like her ! 

GENERAL. NAME.    holly ann briars. NICKNAME.    her mother always called her pumpkin , because of a childhood fascination with pumpkins. AGE.    twenty - two. BIRTHDATE.    may 17th , 1997. ORIENTATION.   pansexual . OCCUPATION.     student .

PHYSICAL. HEIGHT.    5'7" WEIGHT.   52kg.   EYES.    blue . HAIR.     longer , a medium brown shade. straight — with light waves , depending on the humidity. TATTOOS.   n/a.   SCENT.      she has a very flowery scent , with a light clean undertone . she loves vanilla , and will often be found wearing a nice vanilla perfume.    SKIN TEXTURE.   very soft . she's absolutely obsessed with lotion & skincare , so hear skin is healthy as can be . CLOTHING STYLE.    it's very versatile . holly loves long flowy shirts and skirts . with the occasional dress thrown in — but she also has a thing for sharp , edgy jackets and boots that reach her knees. it's just whatever mood you catch her in . POSITIVE TRAITS.    she is so positive , her entire outlook on life is very optimistic. under that , she has a kind streak that she likes to keep hidden. she's very generous , and very reliable . she's charming , and knows how to work her way through a conversation.

NEGATIVE TRAITS.      on the flip side though , she is very reckless. she cares little for her own physical safety. she's got a sharp tongue, and will spit negativity if given the chance. she borders on having a narcissistic personality , and is very vain .

NOTES ON PERSONALITY.   a lot of how she acts is a direct correlation of what happened with her brother . she carries a lot of guilt on her shoulders over it. she suffers from post traumatic stress disorder. her panic attacks are typically triggered by bodies of water , and or being exposed to anything swimming related .

BAD HABITS.   she tends to tug her hair out when stressed , and is often wearing extensions to hide the spots that she's tugged out. she bites the inside of her mouth until it bleeds.  

DISTINGUISHABLE FEATURES.

EYES.   her eyes , a deep oceanic blue , flow just like water . they sparkle in the sunlight & will certainly capture your heart with one glance. she's gotten fairly good at doing her eye makeup to accentuate the color of her hues. she has thick bottom lashes , with matching upper ones.

HAIR.   long , landing just below the middle of her back. though it's quite straight , it has it's days where it will get a light wave to it. she enjoys those days , as she's not entirely fond of the stick - straight look that she typically has going on . a medium brown , with some lighter highlights flowing through .

FAMILY.   

MOTHER.   abigail rose briars , alive . childhood : as a child , abigail was a very good mother. she was a single mother , working two jobs . doing her best to keep food on the table for her little girl. she did her best to bond with holly, through everything. elder childhood : they only got closer as she got older , that is , until her little brother florian was born . after he came into the world holly felt replaced . she felt as though her mother didn't care for her and there was a lot of jealousy . however , abigail tried to get through to her daughter . begged her to understand .pre - teens : after florian died , her mother withdrew herself from holly. which , while understandable from an outsider's perspective . . . it was very traumatizing for a girl who was already carrying so much guilt . teens : her mother , utterly withdrawn from her , kicked her out of her home at 17. she has not spoken to her since.

FATHER.   declan michael mathers , deceased . holly never knew her father .

BROTHER.   florian alexander briars , deceased . she never wanted her brother , after his birth , she grew very resentful towards him because of how much attention it took away from her. however, she grew to like him. she even loved him , eventually .

OVERVIEW.

she was born at exactly 9:30 in the morning. her mother had a c - section . her grandmother was stood at her daughter's side , since her father wasn't in the picture.

her entire family was in the waiting room — anxiously waiting to hear the gender. they erupted in applause as soon as she was announced.

without her grandmother , eliza , they wouldn't have made it. eliza watched holly a lot growing up and took her to all of her school functions and made sure that she had things to do after school.

holly's mother adored her and tried to be around as much as she could — but she was doing everything possible to keep a roof over their heads + food in their bellies.

she worked two jobs throughout the entirety of holly's childhood.

when holly was nine, her mother fell pregnant with a little boy.

holly was excited, right up until florian was born. his birth took the attention away from her , and she grew very frustrated with him.

it took her a good year and a half of constant contact with him before she got even remotely comfortable with him. around two, she had even grown to love him.

he died when he was three. she was getting ready to turn thirteen. abigail had left them alone for thirty minutes. so she could shower & stuff while they were playing in the medium - sized pool they had in the yard.

it had been entirely accidental. really , it had.

holly was just a kid. she was playing with him — tossing him around as she'd seen her mother do countless times. they were having a blast.

her mom's phone rang , and she left him on his floaty to go answer it .

in the two minutes that she was out of the pool , her brother fell into the water. he'd inhaled so much water that even after she jerked him from the bottom … he was unconscious.

she panicked — believing that he was dead and she took off .

when the police finally picked her up , she was questioned thoroughly. they believed her story , which was the truth.

her mother , distraught , utterly withdrew from her. underneath it all , she truly believed that her daughter had killed her brother out of jealousy.

she tried to gather evidence against her daughter on the downlow — but there wasn't any. everything that holly had said lined up. eventually holly stopped trying.

they coexisted until finally , holly found out about her mother's beliefs when she was seventeen.

her mother finally exploded and kicked her out — telling her that she did believe that she killed florian on purpose.

she lived with her grandmother , eliza , until she graduated high-school. soon after that eliza died .

she left her granddaughter everything she had in the will.

which is how holly lives the rather lavish life that she does .

( full bio coming soon on my blog .. )

[alicat-gotyourtongue]

Wrote this a while ago and I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it...Someone please DM me if they would like to continue it. I have some ideas...

The comforting affirmations about how, with enough determination and sheer will, you can bury the past deep down, never to resurface– is bullshit.

Absolute bullshit.

There is no incantation you can utter under your breath in rapid tongue to appease the skeletons from spilling out of your closet once they’ve been beckoned forward.  Their brittle bones will march across the stark white of your bedroom carpet, leaving wretched stains from their mud and blood-caked limbs.  

The monster under your bed can not be cajoled into remaining in the shadows.  It will unleash, and drag its distorted form into the light, toward your tortured screams.  There is no stopping it. It will come for you. It will come for your family. And worst of all - the beast you’ve tried so hard to pacify, to keep at bay in some vain attempt to protect the ones you love the most…is you.

-----

Present Day  

Jughead can’t focus on the clean cut police officer in front of him, sputtering off a list of questions from the notepad in his hand and jotting down answers in sloppy handwriting. The gnawing sensation that this is his fault sits heavy in his stomach like a cinder block to a waterlogged corpse, and he can barely swallow the acid sloshing up and down at the base of his throat.

“When was the last time you saw your wife?”  

Shifting his elbows slightly on his knees, he releases a deep exhale. A deafening whirr pounds heavily in his eardrums and the words sound far away, muffled and foreign to his senses. They are, however, clear enough for him to distinguish the accusation laced between their syllables.

Cops, he thinks. Malice puncturing the word with two sharp holes and seeping venom into its every intention within this world – safety, justice, protection.

When a beat of silence stretches too long between them, the officer turns his attention toward the brunette standing beside the bed, bouncing a baby with a dark puff of hair and bright green eyes on her hip.

Veronica shifts her weight, moving the infant from one side to the other as the officer clears his throat, “Ma’am, Can you tell us anything about this morning? When was the last time you spoke to the-” he pauses and swallows, gesturing to the smiling photograph on the nightstand in lieu of finishing his sentence.

Victim. The absence of the word itself slices a knife straight through Jughead’s lungs and he chokes out a gust of air just to insure he’s still breathing. Beside him, Veronica releases a ragged breath, blowing the little girl’s baby fine hair away as she continues to bob up and down on her heels.   

“I spoke to her this morning.  She- she was taking Amy to the doctor for a check up, and we were supposed to meet for lunch at Cafe L’amore on 10th around one o’clock.” Hot tears are streaming down her face and she makes no move to swipe them away as a tiny hand grabs at the string of pearls around her neck.

“She never showed up,” Veronica finishes, soft and helpless to the point where it squeezes his insides. It’s disorienting hearing his wife’s best friend and his best friend’s wife sound so small, and the situation as a whole is so unfathomable that a rush of dizziness threatens to overtake him.

Blue lights distractedly flash across the white carpet of his bedroom floor in intermittent pulses, illuminating the blood splattered in its fibers, and he briefly recalls two weeks ago, watching Fourth of July Fireworks light up the sky from their bedroom window. He feels the ghost of her sidle in beside him and snuggle into the crook of his frame like a puzzle piece. Her heat presses into his side and the tickle of her voice ignites against his neck as she whispers, “look how bright the lights are from here, Juggie.”   

The memory quickly fades into an image of Betty, on her hands and knees, violently scrubbing at the stains speckling the floor. “Why won’t this come out, Jug?!” The phantom smell of bleach is so furiously potent it almost masks the ever present aroma of apple cinnamon wafting in the air.

Apple cinnamon - the comforting smell of the life he’s built – away from violence and drugs. A far cry from the smell of stale beer and musty carpet that he thought would always surround him.

The officer turns back to Jughead and prompts another standard question, pen poised on paper. For some reason the formality of his tone digs a scorching poker under Jughead’s skin and scalds his nerve endings, causing a knee-jerk reaction of anger to bubble below the surface.   

“Mr. Jones – I said, when was the last time you saw your wife?”

Letting out a strangled sigh, he loosens the navy blue tie around his neck. A fucking tie. He suddenly wants to lash out and shred it with the switchblade hidden in the bottom drawer of his office desk, under the picture he keeps of his wife and daughter. The visceral response slightly stirs up a version of himself that he’s tried for eight years to bury.

“I already told you,” he responds through gritted teeth, resisting the compulsive urge to smash his fist into flesh, bone, drywall – any nearby surface, “I saw her this morning before I left to see my editor. She was taking our daughter to the doctor for her 6 month check-up, like Veronica said.”

Silence hangs on a tightrope, balancing precariously between them as men and woman dressed in various levels of official uniforms begin to move around them and pilfer through his and Betty’s belongings. Dresser drawers and clothes lay strewn across what was, just that morning, an immaculate canvas of purity. Twelve hours ago he lived in a Norman Rockwell painting – a house with a picture perfect family painted in gentle strokes, on a street where the word danger didn’t even exist.   

He knew better – knew better than to become comfortable.

The sound of glass cracking against raw wood snaps his attention.  

“HEY-“

A lady in a deep blue blazer bristles at his sharp tone as she lifts the broken picture frame, their wedding photo, careful not to cut herself on the glass, from the nightstand on his side of the bed.

Yanking the frame from her grasp with much more force than he means to, he spits out, “This stays.”

This stays out of the clear plastic bag labeled ‘evidence’ is what he means without explicitly saying the words. This is mine. She is mine. He strokes his fingers down the glossy picture, careful not to get fingerprints on her unblemished skin.

“It says here you were involved in a gang in your teens and early twenties.” Officer Maxwell prompts, flipping a few pages on his pad and scanning the written words like they’re the answering puzzle pieces to complicated riddle.

“I don’t see how that’s of any consequence.”

“It just seems a little, coincidental. Don’t you think?”

Jughead looks around. Looks around at the perfectly pressed blazers, at the strangers, at the plastic bags and sterile gloves. At the streaks of black on Veronica’s cheeks. At the blood in the carpet that his wife will want to clean as soon as she gets home. Because she will come home. If he has to burn down this town and everyone in it, she will come home. At the wide green eyes of his newborn daughter wondering where her mother is and knowing that he has no way to tell her, but that mommy will be with us soon, my darling.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he growls.

The officer snaps his notebook closed.

[fountainpenguin]

My sister's psychology textbook lists four kinds of parents: authoritative (demanding but responsive), authoritarian (demanding and not responsive), permissive (responsive and not demanding) and neglectful (neither responsive not demanding). What type of parent is H.P.? Cosmo and Wanda? The Turners? The Carmichaels? Vicky's parents? The Fentons? The Mansons? The Foleys? What sort of parents would the child characters become? Timmy? Chloe? Vicky? Tootie? Danny? Sam? Tucker? Jazz? Valerie? etc.

Rather than sort everyone out, I’ll give you definitions and examples and you can decide for yourself. Because I’m afraid, “It depends”.

Authoritative: Considered the best kind of parent psychologically. These are the parents who give rules and explain why the rules are in place. These parents may be willing to change the rules if they and the child are in agreement that improvements can be made that will satisfy everyone.

The majority of parents up there will fall into this category- especially Jazz (though she’ll likely be a pretty nosy parent). All the Fentons show authoritative behaviors, actually. Jack and Maddie have clear house rules and hold their children accountable for breaking them.

Authoritarian: These are the “Do it because I said so” parents. Tend to want things done a certain way, don’t like to budge or change rules much. Prone to clashing with their children when tempers flare. Might ground children or physically hit them when even small conflict arises. Generally very prideful.

Surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly, Chloe’s parents lean this way (though they also border on neglectful). They set strict rules with her and express disapproval when she doesn’t act perfectly, causing her to go into those paralyzed mental breakdowns we saw in episodes like “Booby Trap”. 

You could make an argument that the ends justify the means and that this style of parenting created a very good child. But I would counter that with, “But is that healthy for her?” She has panic attacks and breakdowns. So, um… No.

Plus, I mean, during Season 10, Chloe started as a “perfect” child who would be horrified to do anything bad, but by the end of the series, in “Fancy Schmancy”, she has absolutely no problems about sneaking into Crocker’s house in the middle of the night to pull pranks. Not exactly the poster good child there.

Chloe also became an authoritarian “parent” when she became the obsessive hall monitor in “Chloe Rules”.

Permissive: Parents who usually want their kids to like them so much that they bend to their child’s will, backing off from conflict and letting them get away with doing whatever they want, like staying up late or eating in their room instead of at the dinner table with the family, and recoiling when children argue. These are the parents who let their kids walk all over them and don’t enforce rules.

Vicky’s parents would be the best example for this category. See also, “Timmy’s 2D House of Horror”, when her parents tried to leave the Turner household because they were convinced the Turners were cannibals, but Vicky scared them back and they ended up rushing to the Turners for safety - and placing not just themselves but their other daughter in the Turners’ care too - instead. That’s one of my absolute favorite scenes in the entire series.

Chloe in “Dimmsdale Daze” would be another excellent example of a permissive parent. Chloe was so obsessed with being the “fun mom” that she let her parents (kids) do absolutely whatever they wanted at the fair, even though it wasn’t healthy for them. And the fact that her parenting resulted in them getting godparents… Jeepers, Chloe, you messed up.

Unfortunately, many godparents are like this. After all, they want children to be happy. They often attempt to leave the “parenting” to parents (who normally aren’t very good anyway, hence why the kid got godparents) and just play with kids to make them happy, and give them anything they want

I previously described Juandissimo’s and Remy’s relationship. Juandissimo is mostly a permissive godparent who lets Remy do anything he wants, like stay up all night and eat candy, even if it’s not good for him. He sees himself more as Remy’s friend than someone who ought to prepare him for life in the real world as a mature, disciplined adult. I just wanted to point this out because permissive parenting doesn’t have to involve parents cowering in fear of their child like Vicky’s parents. Juandissimo totally loves hanging out with Remy and making him happy. That’s still permissive parenting, even if they both enjoy it.

I also see Anti-Cosmo as often falling into this category. In “Anti-Poof”, he appears to be all bark and no bite. He tried to instate rules over Foop, but when Foop lashed out, Anti-Cosmo backed down, and made no known effort to retrieve or stop him in any way until Timmy took command and suggested everyone sing a lullaby to lull him to sleep. However, “Revenge of the L.O.S.E.R.S.” told us that Anti-Cosmo did put Foop in time-out for putting spiders in his spaghetti, so he’s made some progress.

Timmy’s parents, I would place somewhere between authoritative and permissive. They do set some rules, but they’re very basic, cookie-cutter rules not tailored specifically to him and his abilities / needs, and they often let him get away with doing crazy stuff.

Neglectful: These are the parents who just don’t care. If the child comes wandering in at four in the morning smelling like drugs and alcohol, the parent probably won’t acknowledge their presence much more than telling them to close the front door behind them. 

Think Timmy’s parents in “Ruled Out”. Seriously, it’s literally an entire episode about neglectful parenting. Jack and Maddie may get distracted and spend lots of time enthusing over ghosts, but they’re hardly neglectful by the psychological definition. After all, they feed, clothe, interact with, and discipline their kids on a regular basis. They’re authoritative. Timmy’s parents in “Ruled Out” are the only example I would cite for the neglectful parenting style.

Otherwise, I think Foop is the closest to being raised neglectfully, as between “Anti-Poof” and “Play Date of Doom”, he not only was raised in solitary confinement, but his mind was put under so much stress that he developed a second personality. He falls somewhere between being raised in a neglectful environment and an abusive one as a small child.

H.P., who has 503 kids, is an outlier. I actually have to scratch my head about where I’d put him. He reacts differently depending on the kid, and of course, being a parent for over 250,000 years. He changes. He’s experienced every style. And that’s the thing about these. They’re styles. You can attribute these words to the relationship a parent and child have, but they’re not personalities.

H.P.’s dad Ambrosine is usually a very authoritative parent, and I hope you can recognize examples of that in Origin of the Pixies. He sets certain rules, but is always very patient and willing to explain why rules are the way they are. However, I… don’t think… he has ever changed his mind on a rule when H.P. disagreed with him. Ambrosine is incredibly stubborn and does not change rules if an outside force doesn’t make him, and he’s known for pushing H.P. into doing things he didn’t want regardless of H.P.’s protests, generally explaining why he thought those things would be good for him (authoritative) but refusing to budge even when H.P. was severely uncomfortable and unhappy (authoritarian). Not the best role model, but it makes him a great antagonist for our story even though he’s a nice guy and not per se a villain.

H.P. is the flip of Ambrosine. He sets rules for the entire “household” so to speak, but if you approach him gently (and probably with flattery), he might be willing to bend a few of them for a few kids. That would be authoritative. Longwood, being the gentle type, can usually get him to adjust rules. But kids like Sanderson who storm in all prickly demanding he change his mind when they think rules are unfair will trigger his stubborn authoritarian mindset by making him angry, and he’ll pull the Head Pixie and “You do that and you’re fired” cards to put them in their place. He’s trying to run a business, after all.

However, remember that H.P. cannot handle extinction bursts. He doesn’t like to change systems that seem to work “good enough” because he can’t handle kids throwing tantrums, and will give them something they want if it calms them down. That’s more of a permissive thing. And a very short-term solution. I have this image of A.C. grabbing the phone one day when Foop acts up and frantically asking H.P., “Well, what do you do when your pixies have extinction bursts?” to which H.P., handing them stacks of cash on the other side of the line to quiet them down, grunts back, “What the heck is an extinction burst?” 

He doesn’t like to let it get that far and will usually cave in pretty quickly unless he has strong feelings that urge him to resist (as is the case with retinue duties).

It’s like this: Shouting and arguing hurts his pride and triggers his authoritarian reaction. Whining and screaming makes him panic, triggering permissiveness.

However, he did go through a phase in his life where he was just an absolutely neglectful parent completely. You’ll get to see him that way in Origin soon enough. Not a good time in his life.

Mmhm. Like I said, it really just depends on the situation. These are labels for parenting styles, but shouldn’t be attributed to a parent’s whole personality.

[outlawqueenbey]

DOQ Week - Day 2 - Family

Titled - Look Both Ways

Today is one of those days where the sun seems to be shining just a bit brighter, the sky just that much bluer, even the chirping of birds just a little more harmonious. Today is one of those days that nothing, absolutely nothing could possibly wreck. The domestic life is something she hadn’t really planned on enjoying this much, the entire thought of having a family surrounding her was a dream let go decades back.

Yet here she is, sitting on a soft cream couch, thumbing through a national geographic magazine (the one she’s been waiting what feels to be an eternity for just because there is an elephant highlight in it), sipping on a glass of red wine waiting for her family to come home for dinner, a dinner she’s made.

No, Maleficent had never thought this would be her life, swapping solitude for society. It’s had it’s moments. Where the claustrophobic tightness of the town has had the fire inside raging and rumbling to burst as though she’s about to burn the entire town to the ground. Fortunately, only a few acres of trees have been torched. Robin (another interesting adjustment in her world) had been kind enough to find her a large piece of the forest where not a soul resided, and she could simply sit in her much needed self-silence whenever her anxiety peaked. It used to happen more often, but she is learning that maybe being slightly suffocated by love isn’t such a terrible thing.

In the beginning, she wanted Regina, was happy to steal the woman away from the pain this place seemed to continually cause her. A soulmate had left, a surrogate child gone with him, and Regina had sought the comfort of her old friend, had rekindled this strange harboured love once more. But the thief had come back, and Maleficent hadn’t exactly been thrilled. She loved Regina, and Regina loved her back, but she also loved this outlaw and his messy though rather adorable offspring. They’d talked about it at length, Mal and Regina, what this meant for them, Robin returning from New York, and after a few months apart and some serious discussion they had all decided that if it made Regina happy, regardless of how Robin and Mal felt towards each other initially, that they would make it work.

And it’s beyond what Mal could have ever anticipated. She loves Regina. She is rather fond of Robin, dotes on Henry, but Roland, the chocolate button eyed, unruly, soft curls and pink chubby, dimple dented cheeks have been her entire downfall. They tease her about it. Her obsessive affection for the youngest, and whilst she still scoffs and barks back a threat about toasting their skin, her smile is brighter than the sun when she hears his voice. They can all go to hell for calling her a soft marshmallow for the boy, if he wants a Dragon teddy bear, well then he is going to have the best bloody snuggle buddy in the entire world.

And for as taken with Roland as Maleficent is, the affection is reciprocated in full. She is his guardian, his movie picking partner, spaghetti fork twirler, bathtime bubble maker, mischievous partner in crime, cookie stealing accomplice, and the place he goes when he wishes to be extra affectionate. He says she purrs, that her heart rumbles in her chest when he sleeps on her, that she is warm and soft, and keeps all the bad guys out of his dreams.

She waits everyday for him to come home from school. Impatiently, with her eyes checking the clock until it strikes twelve minutes after three, which means the god awfully colored long transportation car (Regina calls it a bus….) will be turning the corner in exactly two minutes, and she will be standing outside on the sidewalk in 90 seconds. It’s one of the best parts of her day, hearing his tiny scream of excitement as he flings himself into her awaiting arms from the second to last step on the bus. The babble of nonsense that quickly follows, and the smugness in her heart when he begs her to dragon for him, which simply entails she let out a puff of silver smooth smoke out into whatever shape he desires, usually it’s a lion, but she’s been trying elephant shapes… and he still squeals and burrows his head into her chest happily as they turn back to the house.

And so here she is, flipping through magazine pages whilst flicking her gaze to the clock, and it’s nice enough outside that she can afford to wait a few extra minutes out in the sunshine. Robin is in the kitchen humming far too loudly which probably means he’s sneaking in a few bites of dinner before it’s ready. Bloody thief. As if his ears were burning, he walks into the living room, stopping mid bite as he realizes Maleficent’s eyes glinting at him from the sofa, apparently unaware that she was still here and not already outside waiting for Roland. He gulps hard, swallowing painfully against the lodge of stolen food stuffed into his cheeks and does his best to smile at Mal, who simply arches her eyebrow at him.

“Shower sex for the whole week if we keep this between us.”

She laughs at his poor bargaining skills, but nods anyway and reaches for the glass of lemonade in his hand. Roland likes lemonade, her puff of purple magic adds a few plump sliced strawberries into the yellow sugary liquid and she is out the door before Robin can question the thievery of his drink.

It’s gorgeous outside too as she pads down the stone walkway, noting the fact Robin should probably cut the grass soon. The blades are tipping over, and she is more than accepting to the idea of watching him sweat shirtless in the sun whilst she and Regina watch from the patio chairs, admiring the view. She hits the iron gate at the same time her brunette love rolls into the driveway, her dainty little fingers waggling behind the window. The engine cuts off and Mal leans over the gate, appreciating the low cut in Regina’s silk red wine blouse, heating at the tightness of her dark skirt contrasting the olive of her toned calves shaped down into tall snake skinned pumps. She looks good enough to eat… perhaps later. It’s a grinned “Hello,” a happy squeeze of a hand, followed by a gentle kiss to Mal’s cheek. All very damn domestic, and Mal loves it, kissing a lover whilst waiting for her tadpole to come home. And the timing is perfect, as Regina leaves her with a pat on the bum and the cheesewagon turns the corner. Her heart skips joyously and she closes the gate behind her.

The bus comes to a stop on the other side of the road which is different… irritating, and has her brows cinching together as she waits, arching a touch to the right to try and catch a glimpse of a mop of curly brown hair. Why it’s on the other side is beyond her, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. The ghosting sound of Regina’s voice mentioning that there was a new guy driving the school bus, a lanky half wit of a man, Horace something… or perhaps it was Jasper, the name escaping Maleficent in its non-importance to her.

Still, it’s taking Roland longer to come off the bus, and patience isn’t the Dragon’s strongest suit. More so when it comes to being reunited with her tyke. They have oatmeal chocolate chip cookies to eat, and another chapter of Pete’s Dragon to read before bathtime.

The sound of a rumbling engine breaks up the serene sway of the wind. Far too loud and violently roaring as it turns the corner, a god awful electric green color speeding into sight. She hates these magical moving steel boxes and all the noises and jilting they cause. Walking is nice, horse back even better, there is no need for these metal boxes. Mal’s eyes frown as she watches the heavy vehicle accelerate, thundering revving of it’s engine, bulky tires rotating wildly as it slices the distance of the road in half, and why the hell aren’t they slowing down?

Red flashing lights begin to blink from the bus, a stop sign slapping out from it’s yellow side, and still the green car doesn’t slow, jerks slightly left before evening out, and she sees the first few children clambering out of the bus and straight into the road, the green beanie of Roland’s finally bouncing into view. There are children in the crossing, the bus is halted, the caution lights are flashing, the car will stop. She’s been trying to use less magic and learn to trust the workings of mechanical life here, she won’t freeze the car unless it’s absolutely necessary.

She sees his little hand wave from across the street at her, a dimpled, toothy smile beaming as he calls out her name excitedly, waving hard enough to have his hair jostling back and forth beneath his hat.

She goes to tell him to stay there, to wait, she will come to him, but the car’s engine drowns her out, her realization she momentarily forgot about the vehicle sinks in her gut as Roland steps out onto the crosswalk. She panics, her magic sputters and everything freezes in time.

The sound of tires squealing shrieks, stench of burnt rubbing trailing behind with the cloud of white hot smoke as they attempt to brake, but it’s not enough, the wheels lock and skid into the intersection. A horn blares out horrendously, a shrill scream pierces the air, a horrid smack of something onto somewhere, and a Captain America backpack flies into the air. The entire time Maleficent is frozen to the stop, eyes locked onto the green beanie that floats for a half moment in the sky and sways to the ground a few yards away and everything goes deadly silent.

No one moves, stunned for a tense, disbelieving second, scattered about the street, around the green smoking car, air bags deployed and horn still ringing. His name drops terrified from her lips, and all hell breaks loose.

She runs, bellowing out for him, her magic stampeding back into her veins as her feet hit the hot pavement. Stunned pairs of wide eyes follow her between the crowd that has begun to conglomerate around the crumpled hood of the car. Someone is calling out for help, a small girl is crying off to the side, and still there is no Roland leaping out from safety towards her.

Her lungs burn, mouth agape though no air sucks in, eyes wild in her search for him, she just needs to see him, his big brown, button eyes sparkling up at her, the giggling that starts at the base of his belly, she just need to find him. Safe and unharmed.

It’s a chorus of fear and panic, screams and sobs, her dragon enhanced senses being overloaded with the alarming terror swimming in the crowd. It makes her ears ring at their high pitched wailing, nose inhaling the overwhelming burning smell of rubber tires scorched by the pavement. Her usually hot skin chills and prickles with a sense of foreboding dread.  Her irritation flares at the stifling amount of people bashing frantically into her, slowing her progress in finding him. She hauls a few people off to the side, uncaring of their outburst, quickening her pace as the crowd finally parts, revealing the smoking crumpled green car crunched against a tree, still blaring on it’s horn, and she can see the driver slumped into the airbag, squashing the wheel, groaning as he beings to come too.

“Roland?! Roland, where are you?!”

Her heart plays with the fine line of hysteria when he doesn’t answer back.

“He’s under there!”

What the fuck does that mean? Under where? Under what?

“Oh shit! Someone get help!”  

She sees a teenage boy bending at the front of the car, and the entire fire of the dragon inside recoils into an ice block as her eyes finally find what she’s been searching for. Beneath its mechanical belly, a small fist crooks out awkwardly, unmoving and clutching a stuffed red stained elephant, and Maleficent shrieks.

.

..

…

..

.

They heard the squealing of tires, the impact of what could only have been a vehicle hitting something hard and then complete dead silence. Her heart sank the same time Robin’s eyes flared with panic. Mal was outside waiting for Roland, the crunch sounded horribly like a car crash, and Regina’s blood runs cold at the thought, there are children outside. Setting her coffee cup down as gently as possible with the trembling in her hands, she turns on her heel, Robin behind her instantly as they open the front door. It’s chaos that meets Regina’s eyes, an absolute pandemonium of children screaming and crying, parents flooding out into the street, the smell of burnt tar swirling into the dark grey cloud of smoke just beyond the crowd.

Keep calm, Regina, panicking will only make things worse. Breathe and just figure out what happened. They are both okay, it’s going to be okay.

Her mind cycles the mantra, but her gut feels like a hot stone is burning her alive with fear as she and Robin step onto the pavement, and her blood freezes at the torn scream of a voice she knows down to her core. They run as the sound of an ambulance siren blares in the distance, the crowd parting instantly as Regina shoves them aside.

Mal is there, on the ground and for a moment Regina’s heart falters thinking maybe she is hurt, maybe her scream was in pain, but the closer her heels bring her to the carnage the worse her gut wrenches. She is sobbing uncontrollably when they reach the Dragon, and Robin lets out a heavy, “Oh fuck,” when they see what she clawing under the car for.

It’s Roland. His arm is barely visible underneath the crunched, smoking metal, the elephant he carries everywhere with him stained bloody in his limp fist. “Mal! Mal, what happened!” Regina bellows out, kneeling beside the blonde whose hands are ripping at the pavement.

“Oh God. Fucking Christ. Someone get help!”

Mal doesn’t even recognize them beside her, her attention focused on getting her little dragon out from beneath the vehicle. Her eyes burn with tears as she calls over and over again for him, panic overtaking her mind as she slams her shoulder into the door, heaving with as much force through a screeching roar. It doesn’t budge. Not until she feels Robin and Regina on either side of her, pushing and lifting the car with every ounce of force they can muster. It begins to lift slowly, creaking and cracking through the blinding haze of smoke.

His brown jacket comes into view, tattered and torn. The mop of curly hair slumped about his face, hiding him from Mal’s eyes. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond. Laying there horrendously still. Her hands grip around his arm and she tugs gently, but his pants are caught on something and Mal cries out terror stricken. “Roland! My little Dragon, can you hear me? Please say something! Roland!”

The car flips on it’s side and Roland’s little body is unveiled, legs at an awkward angle, blood pooling around his face, matting his hair and the tar road below. Mal slings her arms around his body and hauls him out of the wreckage. He’s limp in her arms.

“Is he breathing?! Mal? Is he… is he alive?” Robin stammers on his fallen knees beside her, running his palm over his son’s pallored face. Tears coat her cheeks as she tries to rouse him, shaking him gently as she whispers into his ear for him to open his eyes, she just needs to see his beautiful brown, chocolate button eyes.

“Roland? Baby? Can you hear us?”

“Roland?”

There is nothing and Mal’s heart shatters into a thousand bleeding pieces as her fingers search for his pulse under his chubby jaw.

“The ambulance is here!” Someone calls out, but they don’t move, Mal doesn’t dare relinquish her grip on her tadpole. He will be fine. He has to be fine. There is no way in hell she is letting him die. Not now. Not ever.

“Come back to me.” She presses a kiss to his forehead and lets her magic flow from her heart and into his broken, bloodied, barely breathing body.

Warmth. Hot stifling electric waves pulse through her body, latching into him, seeping into each broken vein, every shattered bone from the tip of his toes to the lump in his skull. Regina’s hand grabs her own and she feels her own magic thumping into her, vortexing in with the light she holds, and Regina’s thoughts begin to flow into Mal’s mind and magic.

Roland, my little knight. Baby, we need you to come back to us. Breathe for us, baby. I know you can do it.

Together they stitch together the lacerations that bleed. Bind the bones that splinter awkwardly through delicate, soft skin.

Little Dragon, beat that heart of yours for me. We have cookies to eat, I made you oatmeal chocolate chip, your favorite, and you know I can’t eat them all myself. Come on, sweet love, open your eyes for me.

They fill his lungs with air, his heart with love, pouring in every ounce they have for this little outlaw that has stolen their entire souls. Robin’s hand rests on Mal’s lower back, his other brushing back fallen locks of hair as he too whispers for his son to be strong, to be brave, he’s a merry man and they need him.

It takes forever, an eternity that ticks by slow as molasses, and Mal’s eyes begin to water when he still doesn’t move as their magic slowly ebbs away, healing everything they can possibly touch and the hot wet tears fall down onto her cheeks when his eyes still do not crack open for her.

Regina stifles a sob into Mal’s shoulder, whispering out his name, a hand thumbing gently over his ribs. The paramedics are beside them suddenly, kneeling down quietly as they look over the injured boy, opening his coat button by button though Mal still holds him into her lap, combing through his blood soaked matted hair. He’s so small, so unbelievably tiny and precious to her, to all of them.

Silence surrounds them all as they wait, the paramedics slowly cutting away his shirt and placing ecg pads to his little torso. “We need to get him to the hospital.” One of them comments gently, reaching out for him, but Mal is possessive of the little one, her little one. She shakes her head and leans over his body, her tears dropping onto his forehead and both Regina and Robin cradle them all tight together.

“Mellie?” A soft quiet cough breaks the awful silence as little brown eyes flicker behind lashes and finally open.

“Hi, little dragon.” She smiles, cries harder, if that’s possible, but it’s from relief. Robin heaves a heavy breath, cradles his son’s head as he breathes out his name gently, Regina doing the same as they all sigh out a tense, happy breath.

“Can we still have cookies?” He sniffles in Maleficent’s lap.

“Of course we can, you can eat them all.”

“But you like them too.”

“I’ll make us more.”

Six hours later their entire family is curled up on the couch, stuffed shoulder to thigh, squished into the cushions, but space is not needed, not right now, never again as Mal’s soft voice reads out the words to his favorite book, the last words, “And the little dragon family lived happily ever after,” resonating far greater than ever before as Roland finally nods off to sleep, healthy and here with them.

Family after all is the most important thing.

[brettdeadly]

Bizzy Bone - Thugz Cry [Fyah_B RMX] **Explicit** by FYAH_B MUSIC Boom!! ;) Big up the L-Ripsta!! Original Track: https://youtu.be/Zv0mPk34_bg Follow Bizzy Bone: @bizzy-bone-official Lyrics: [Verse 1] Nigga, we represent the planet Get schizophrenic and panic Maybe the past would understand if they get off they ass and mash How do you manage? Paranoid, don't even trust my boys Watch for them plots and deploys, envoys, scopin Like a dope fiend, when I'm smoked in the alleys with these ghetto Guns and erased my funds Watts niggas in Cali take Bullets to the brains, still rowdy Jesus really never died for you crucified mutual suicide Who am I? Loco with vocals, goin' coast to coast Heaven'll move me, right, for sure Deception whether my brethren, but sunny days when I parlay Get killed when I get to steppin' Remember the weapon (come) and the doctor said I need time to myself where ocean those frivilous Thoughts, thug for the Bone, up puttin' this independent stardom Seven relentless evil intentions, nobody knows 'em, I'm even a henchman, warrior Poet, never to mention I love my lady rebel... [Verse 2] We keepin' the lights on at Ruthless and I ain't fuckin' the boss, lookin' at me sexy Take your clothes off, and my dick'll go soft Never mix business with your sickness Enemy see me flippin' in the picnic with your little divide and conquer My sister was ready to bomb her! Get off the dizznik, and up off my voice Me and my boyz give us a choice how could you ever Tell Sony that I was the only one was making noise ain't it a breech of Trust look in the gutter, unh, never judge yo book by its cover Word to the muthafucka I, I didn't studder but what if I Lost it and came in the office and nobody noticed with liquid explosives on top of Versace clothes give up the ghost Krayzie's Picasso Lil' Layzie like Caesar, Stack's like lil' Pesci N Casino and Wish don't give a fuck! O I'm Gambino 'n the walkin dead wake up on the wrong side of the bed Bible of survival triple six rivals, triple six rival Member you said I read but I roll with killas, Niggas That'll bust in the club you don't feel us strapped in the bed Strapped pickin up the kids in the realest, the realest, the realest.. [Verse 3] It'll make your body shake when it's too late soon As you flipped off the safety baby this we all day Don't tell me you crazy, will they sell me? Hell, naw! For reason this weepin' widow be the demon so cheap And at least she peepin' go peep deep dead in yo pockets no sleep Rollin' with my crucifix Lucifer usually uses the rule of these Wicked tricks in the school of these ghetto games And the fool of this bitch's mist I say shame, shame, shame Enemies attacking me actually I'm in the grain ask Mr. Majesty these Casualties well they're passin me by but I hear death Callin' when it's so cold in a room who's stallin' Better come after me, we say fuck y'all... **Absolutely No Copyright Infringement Intended ** **Strictly Non-Profit**

[link-of-asgard]

Do em all loser

Ugh, there's 200 of these200: My crush’s name is: Natalie199: I was born in: 1994/ A Hospital198: I am really: Tired197: My cellphone company is: Samsung196: My eye color is: A greeny Blue with a brown ring around the iris195: My shoe size is: 6194: My ring size is: I dunno man193: My height is: 5′6″192: I am allergic to: Not allergic but Lactose Intolerant191: My 1st car was: One of those little tike ones190: My 1st job was: Awful189: Last book you read: The Haunting of Barry Allen188: My bed is: Soft187: My pet: Beautiful 186: My best friend: Is very nice185: My favorite shampoo is: Coconut184: Xbox or ps3: Both183: Piggy banks are: Dumb182: In my pockets: Hands181: On my calendar: dates180: Marriage is: A ceremony between 2 people who are in love179: Spongebob can: fuck off178: My mom: I have a Mum177: The last three songs I bought were? i buy albums176: Last YouTube video watched: PBG175: How many cousins do you have? I dunno lots174: Do you have any siblings? 2173: Are your parents divorced? No172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes171: Do you play an instrument? No170: What did you do yesterday? Chores[ I Believe In ]169: Love at first sight: No168: Luck: Yes, and I have very bad luck167: Fate: Fate is really just the outcome of not believing that time can be changed and therefore everything that is gonna happen will happen and can’t be changed 166: Yourself: I suck165: Aliens: It’s statistically impossible that they don’t, whether they’ve visited is another story164: Heaven: No163: Hell: No162: God: No161: Horoscopes: I say no yet I read them anyway160: Soul mates: Your soul mate is who you chose159: Ghosts: Maybe, I’m being haunted by George Micheal158: Gay Marriage: Is just marriage157: War: What is it good for?156: Orbs: Zorbs man155: Magic: I wish[ This or That ]154: Hugs or Kisses: I NEED BOTH153: Drunk or High: Neither152: Phone or Online: Haha151: Red heads or Black haired: Red 150: Blondes or Brunettes: Blonde149: Hot or cold: Warm148: Summer or winter: Spring147: Autumn or Spring: Spring146: Chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla145: Night or Day: Day144: Oranges or Apples: Bananas143: Curly or Straight hair: Mid142: McDonalds or Burger King: Burger king is cardboard141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: WHITE140: Mac or PC: Every computer is a PC if it’s your personal one139: Flip flops or high heals: Neither man138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Sweet137: Coke or Pepsi: Cherry coke136: Hillary or Obama: Me135: Burried or cremated: Buried134: Singing or Dancing: Both133: Coach or Chanel: what?132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Who131: Small town or Big city: Small town with a GAME in130: Wal-Mart or Target: I dunno129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Ben Stiller128: Manicure or Pedicure: None127: East Coast or West Coast: What126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Easter125: Chocolate or Flowers: Choc124: Disney or Six Flags: what?123: Yankees or Red Sox: Who?[ Here’s What I Think About ]122: War: Absolutely nothing 121: George Bush:Needs a trim120: Gay Marriage: I already said it’s just marriage119: The presidential election: Both are shite118: Abortion: Not going into this rabbit hole117: MySpace: Dead116: Reality TV: Boring115: Parents: I’m never good enough114: Back stabbers: My back is steel113: Ebay: Rip off merchants112: Facebook: communication111: Work: I’m trying110: My Neighbors: Quiet109: Gas Prices: Like power or petrol?108: Designer Clothes: Wear whatever107: College: It was fun till i was dumped106: Sports: Motor105: My family: Annoying104: The future: Is whatever you make it[ Last time I ]103: Hugged someone: Friday, the rock climbing coach102: Last time you ate: Now, I’ve not stopped since friday101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: Girl called kerry who is a total eh100: Cried in front of someone: No99: Went to a movie theater: Guardians 298: Took a vacation: Ha97: Swam in a pool: No96: Changed a diaper: nappy95: Got my nails done: No94: Went to a wedding: Never93: Broke a bone: never92: Got a peircing: never91: Broke the law: I dunno90: Texted: 1 hour ago[ MISC ]89: Who makes you laugh the most: Me88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: Safety87: The last movie I saw: Predestination86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Wonder Woman with Nat85: The thing im not looking forward to: Death84: People call me: GET OUT OF MY HOUSE83: The most difficult thing to do is: exist82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: No81: My zodiac sign is: Scorpio, year of the Dog80: The first person i talked to today was: My cat79: First time you had a crush:Like year 6, I gave her a valentines and as soon as she found out it was me she burned it, and washing the bathroom washing her hands for ages78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: Me77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: I dunno man76: Right now I am talking to: Kenny75: What are you going to do when you grow up: I am grown up74: I have/will get a job: I will soon73: Tomorrow: Is the future72: Today: Is the past71: Next Summer: It will rain70: Next Weekend: Canadian GP69: I have these pets: 2 CATS A DOG 2 GUINEA PIGS AND A RABBIT 68: The worst sound in the world: The sound of someone rubbing fabric67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Me66: People that make you happy: Me65: Last time I cried: I dunno64: My friends are: Existing63: My computer is: Shit62: My School: was also shit61: My Car: is invisible60: I lose all respect for people who: Ignore you for no reason59: The movie I cried at was: I dunno58: Your hair color is: Between Blonde and Brown57: TV shows you watch: THE FLASH56: Favorite web site: Youtube55: Your dream vacation: Next to the sea54: The worst pain I was ever in was: I once jumped over a 90 degree angle fence and missed and fell right on my ribs which were pushed in53: How do you like your steak cooked: If it’s edible I’ll eat it52: My room is: small51: My favorite celebrity is: Me50: Where would you like to be: Next to the sea49: Do you want children: one day48: Ever been in love: Yes47: Who’s your best friend: Deryn46: More guy friends or girl friends: Girl45: One thing that makes you feel great is: Existing44: One person that you wish you could see right now: Nat43: Do you have a 5 year plan: No42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: No41: Have you pre-named your children: Amy, Kara, Peter40: Last person I got mad at: Me39: I would like to move to: The SEASIDE38: I wish I was a professional: Racing driver[ My Favorites ]37: Candy: YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME36: Vehicle: McLaren MP4 12/C35: President: Quark34: State visited: None33: Cellphone provider: None32: Athlete: Lewis Hamilton31: Actor: Michael J. Fox. 30: Actress: Idk29: Singer: James Dean Bradfield28: Band: Blur27: Clothing store: Any26: Grocery store: Any25: TV show: THE FLASH24: Movie: Back to the Future23: Website: This again22: Animal: Owl21: Theme park: None20: Holiday: None19: Sport to watch: F118: Sport to play: Karting17: Magazine: Autosport/SFX16: Book: The Hitchhikers Guide15: Day of the week: Friday I’m in love14: Beach: Scarborough13: Concert attended: None12: Thing to cook: Chips11: Food: I love ALL FOOD10: Restaurant: Frankie and Bennies9: Radio station: Idk8: Yankee candle scent: Vanilla7: Perfume: no6: Flower: That skunk from bambi5: Color: red4: Talk show host: none3: Comedian: Joe Wilkinson2: Dog breed: Lab1: Did you answer all these truthfully? duh