and goes through a window

Auditory Processing Problems

• *someone says something* “what?” *repeats themselves* “sorry?” *repeats themselves again* “pardon?”

•"hey, y'see the red thing at the top of the shelf, will you get it?“ "Sorry, what?” “On the sh-” “oh yeah sure, I’ll get it.”

•*doesn’t hear teacher because someone’s pen is making a scratchy sound at the back of the room*

•*replays video 10 ten times to figure out what they’re saying*

•teachers asking, “why do you always stop writing in the middle of a sentence, just write down whatever I’m saying,” followed by the response, “I’m just processing it,” rebuked by, “we’ll stop processing it and just write.”

•*gets really focused on staring out the window and goes through four songs without hearing a single on*

Things to think about

-The guitar riff during sincerely me when Ben goes “I also miss our talks”

-The chorus picking up in waving through a window at the end when he goes from “will I ever make a sound” to the chorus again

-“HEY HEY HEY” in sincerely me

-Ben’s vibrato

-Ben’s giggle in For Forever

-The tone of voice when he says “he’s come to get me”

-His awkwardness in if I could tell her when she starts to leave “I’m just trying to remember the best ones”

-“you looked really pretty- uh I mean it looked pretty cool”

-Basically all the emotions in words fail like Jesus christ belt your heart out but be careful of your vocal chords

-The fact they actually had Heidi be a mom in so big/so small cuz she’s singing to him on the couch and holding him, they’re weren’t destroying that link because he’s supposed to be a senior in high school, it just solidifies the fact that he’s vulnerable and he will always be his mom’s son, her little boy who wondered if there was a truck that was gonna take his mom away too

-In words fail when it backs back up into waving through a window Jesus christ that kills me everytime

-Just the “No, I’d rather pretend I’m something better than
These broken parts
Pretend I’m something other than
This mess that I am
‘Cause then I don’t have to look at it
And no one gets to look at it
No, no one can really see” kills me everytime

-When Ben belts out the word face in for forever

-When he sings step into the sun at the end of words fail

-Also when he sings “I know” in a words fail just mmm good

-Ben singing the “Stop it, stop it! Just let me off!” bit in Good For You

-“right there, right there, riiIIIGHT theerree” in words fail, just fills me with emotions

Good stuff

Scion game. We are trying to break in to a building we suspect is run by titanspawn. We decide on a plan to enter from the roof, with our heaviest hitter taking the lead.

Player: “Ok, so I am going to dive off the roof, grab the edge and swing feet first through the window and punch the first thing I see.”

ST: “Now, to be clear, do you mean the first thing that threatens you? Or really the first thing you see?”

Player: “The first thing I see!“ 

The player makes it through the window.

ST: "Ok, uh, make a karma roll. Ok, now roll to attack.”

ST: “Right, so, you crash through the window and punch a toddler. He goes flying down the stairs while his mother screams.”

Things I love about ‘Waving Through A Window’

- How the accompaniment builds up.  Full marks on the orchestrations, Lac.
- Like the additions of more and more chords, even when the dynamic goes down.
- How Ben falsettos ‘waving through a window’ on the first few choruses and belts it later.
- The accompaniment leading into the second verse.
- The little didddlydumdum the strings play in the second verse.
- The little vocal riff on the second pre-chorus.
- How the texture thins right out for ‘when you’re falling in a forest’.
- Ben’s little voice crack on ‘it’s like I never made a sound’.
- Final chord after the unaccompanied riff.

This isnt directly related to Elsewhere U, but imagine a story of a Liminal Space denny’s - where both the Gentry and mortals can go to dine
A dennys on the side of a highway - you can never quite remember which one, but you always find your way to it on the nights when you want to - that’s only open in the evening and night hours, where humans aren’t the only ones who come to dine

A place that, If you try to go during the day, and somehow manage to find your way to it, it’s broken down and abandoned.

A place where you cant see the cooks, and the server’s back is hollow

A place where, If you’re unlucky enough to stay til dawn, you may find that you disappear in the sunlight

A denny’s that bridges the worlds, and serves any hungry soul that comes asking, though whether your soul is being served or fed is up for debate

Crucially, the Denny’s is the only fast food joint inside the rough triangle formed by the two highways and the train tracks that contain Elsewhere U and a good part of the countryside around it. When the sun rises it takes everything in it to…wherever it goes. (Somewhere shimmery, say the people who tried to look through the windows from the parking lot. The ones who were inside never say anything else at all). The change in your pockets turns to wet leaves when the sun rises. But the food is safe, or at least as much as it ever is. And the coffee is very, very strong.

poe dameron causes destruction wherever he goes and yells “put it on my tab!” as he crashes through the window in a dramatic exit

and a week later he shows up with his space checkbook to pay his tab and tip the servo-droids, because he is a Good Space Boy From A Good Space Family

MariChat Head Cannon Dump

• Marinette accidentally lets out some of her ladybug persona while talking to Chat because he’s hopeless

• Like seriously 50% of the time he doesn’t know what’s happening without ladybug dishing him the dirt on enemies

• Marinette’s proud that she talked to her crush once without stuttering like an insane person and basically brags to chat about it

• ChatNoir (God bless his oblivious soul) doesn’t understand she’s basically talking about him, Cheekily asks who the lucky man is and without skipping a beat she says it’s Adrien

• He’s blushing so much and she’s so confused

• He later goes home, jumps in through his bedroom window, de-transforms and falls in bed face first screaming

• Plagg laughs for hours

• The next day at school he decides to flirt with her to see her reaction and he’s the one who ends up blushing the most at the end of the day

This is my first imagine I’m posting on here! I normally post these on my Wattpad (you can message me for the username for there if you want) but I wanted to give Tumblr a try! I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to send me some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Also please tell me if you want more! Enjoy! x



“A bit too tight, Mama,” I wince slightly as she yanks the strings to my corset so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Pain is beauty, Adelaide, and if you need to look absolutely perfect for when the King comes to town tomorrow. The Master can’t see you looking anything less than perfect,” She says as she takes a pin from her mouth and places it near the new, makeshift hem so she can remember to sew there so I won’t trip over my own dress tomorrow.

“I’m scared. He has never come to town. Do you know what he’s coming for?” I whisper as I look out the window to see the tiny faeries glowing brightly as they fly and dance in the moonlight, darting to each and every scarce flower they could find in the chill of winter to find pollen to make their faerie dust. Mama tenses and pauses for a moment before shrugging and continuing her work.

I giggle and wave as one of the faeries flies to the glass and watches in awe as the candle light illuminates my dress that I was to wear for when Master arrived.

The mere thought of him sent chills down my spine. I had never met nor seen him, but I had definitely heard of the cruel, vampire king who ruled over this land. His skin was so pale that it was nearly translucent, every bluish-green vein noticeable, with eyes so red, it was like a fire blazed within them. He had chestnut brown curls that barely grazed his shoulders and his teeth were glistening white with points so sharp that with just a bit of pressure, he could pierce your neck and drain you dry in seconds.

They say he is a sad man, even though he ruled over many, many lands with all the riches of the world. In his thousand year reign, he never found love and, tales say, he searches relentlessly for his mate but to no avail. He knows only two features of his intended mate; fiery, red hair, the color of the very thing he craves the most, and eyes as green as emeralds just as his used to be before his blood lust settled in. They say his eyes have been red for hundreds of years, so long that they were beginning to say his past, gentle, kind nature and viridescent eyes were a myth.

Rumors were now going around that his sadness was developing into fierce, desperate anger, setting fire to every village that lied to him, saying there was a girl there who matches the description of his beloved.

I was used to the stares, the whispers, and pointing over my eighteen years in this world. I was the only redhead on a town of snow blondes and chestnut brunettes; a peculiar sight. I knew I matched the description of the king’s mate and so did everyone else in this tiny town. Sometimes, I dreamed vividly of a man so beautiful that he took my breath away. Even though I never dreamt of him with eyes like fire, only deep green, I knew it was the Master, the king, but I tried not to think much of it. I could never be his beloved.

“Okay, darling. Take it off so I can finish the hemming. I want to be able to get some sleep tonight,” my mother says tiredly as I slip off the beautiful, flowing dress and hand it to her.

Leaning over, she places a small kiss onto my forehead. Pulling back, she gazes at my face with an odd look in her eyes before sighing quietly. “Get some sleep, Adelaide. It could be a big day for us tomorrow,” she says and I immediately know she’s talking about the mate rumors. I nod softly as I pull on a nightgown before climbing into bed.

She walks out of my room, the wooden door eerily creaking shut, and I tug my quilted blanket closer as I hear the winter wind whip against the trees, the snowfall making it difficult to see the faeries glow as they continue to desperately scavenge for a few more hours until barren winter truly begins.

Feeling myself start to drift off, I lean over and with a quick gust of breath, I blow out my candle and my room goes completely dark, moonlight slowly creeping in through the window. Closing my eyes, I wonder if I’m going to dream of Master tonight as sleep overtakes me.


The once boiling water that was now my bath was starting to chill as I soaked absentmindedly. I could hear the villagers clamoring and shouting outside as they ready for the King’s arrival. I couldn’t believe that they believe that I was his mate so much that they sent a messenger to his castle. They put our little village, our home, in danger because of their beliefs. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“Adelaide! Time to get out! The watchers spotted Master Styles about thirty minutes away, my child!” My mother shouts as I wash the rose oil off my body. Standing, I let the water roll and drip off my naked body as I grab my towel and quickly dry off.

Walking out into my bedroom, I gasp at the beauty of the dress my mother had finished making. The tight, corseted bodice was intricately designed with elegant pearls that shown with brilliant luster. My breasts were lightly pushed up and my pale skin looked even more translucent in the white dress. The flowing skirt billowed to my feet and felt soft on my legs. Extra fabric made a cape-like train appearance that just kissed the ground behind me as I walked. It was beautiful.

My hair was down with a few elaborate, delicate braids across the middle. On top of my head, my mother placed a wreath of baby’s breath that showed a stark contrast against my blazing red hair.

Turning to my mother, I open my mouth to speak when a loud horn is blown. The King was here.

My mother quickly grabs my hand and pulls me out of the house. My father and my younger brother stand there in the snow, looking down the beaten, dirt road in awe. For once, the tinkling of small bells was not heard as the faeries hid from the cold winter. Only gasps and whispers were trickling into my ears as I turn to see what all the fuss is about.

Walking further into the road, I stand there as dry leaves crack and crinkle under my feet, the ground cold and damp from the melting snow.

My eyes dart around to see the villagers in their best outfits gazing at me for a quick second before looking back down the road in trembling fear and excitement. Looking forward, I squint slightly only to gasp to myself as I see a small team of steel, black carriages pulled by dark stallions. Their heavy puffs of breath were evident in the cold air and their black manes were flowing behind them as they trotted, tiny, white snowflakes getting caught in the strands.

They slowly come to a halt as I feel my heart beating fast in my chest, my breathing becoming more and more frantic as I see a man hop down from his driving seat and open a carriage door. One dark boot stepping out is all it takes to send my body into overdrive before a masterpiece of a man as beautiful as the legends say fully steps out of the carriage. For someone who has lived over two thousand years, he still looked youthful and perfect.

His face is smug and dark as he looks around with a slight scowl, the commoners and people of the town swarming him instantly. His steps were calculated and determined as he walks to the stage where local news is normally projected. It was amazing to think he could actually run faster than a gust of wind.

I was in awe of him.

“My people,” he starts as something inside of me begins to tingle and a feeling I’ve never felt comes over me. His voice was raspy and smooth like thick, sweet molasses, sending every hair on my body on end.

He inhales deeply, looking like he was in pain and holding himself back but it seemed me and his guards were the only ones who notice. His guards take a step towards him as if they were ready for him to pounce on someone any second.

“As the years go by, your king stays healthy and young, ruling over this country fairly and keeping war at bay. But as I stay young, my servants and my slaves, especially my dear, sweet, generous blood slaves, grow old and frail. When they grow a certain age or get sickly,” he smiles kindly but I could see the maliciousness behind it. “I dispose of them, letting them leave the castle and go to a… a better place.” He says as the townspeople grow curious and anxious at his impending words.

This is not what they thought he was here for. He wasn’t looking for his mate at all when he decided to come to our village. He was looking for slaves, particularly blood slaves!

I take a step back as the realization comes over me, hoping no one will notice but the guard beside the king locks eyes with me and smiles demonically, his sharp teeth glistening as I imagine all the blood he has sucked from innocent people. His smile widens when he sees the color of my hair and his intrigue deepens.

“So, my lovely people, you are going to have to make a decision - a sacrifice, if you will - and hand over just a handful, only a handful, of your healthiest. After all, it’s the least you can do for your king,” he smiles once more, surveying the area as the people begin to panic. They didn’t want to be separated from their families!

Shouts of disagreement and outrage fill the small space before he holds his hands up to silence them. “If that’s how you are going to behave…Seize them,” he flicks his wrist, instructing his guards to rush into the crowd and start grabbing our healthiest and best-looking villagers.

I let out a small yelp of fear as I turn on my heel and start to run, gathering my dress up so I don’t trip and fall. Looking back, I see the guard I locked eyes with fighting through the crowd to get to me. Sending a quick prayer, I rush into the dark, nearby woods.

“Sir, there is a lady with red hair! Matching the description of your beloved!” I hear the man say as I run through the trees.

“Where?” The way Master Styles speaks sounded desperate and angry that the guard let me get away. His deadly, demonic tone sends shivers down my spine. By now, tears of fear are rolling down my cheeks as I feel briars and switches cutting into my legs as I run for my life.

“She ran through there!” is all I hear until an inhuman growl pierces the air and strikes terror into my heart. My breathing is harsh and scarce as my corset digs into my ribs and I feel myself becoming lightheaded.

Coming to the edge of the woods, I spot the clearing where our horses are kept. The grass is long and it was dark as it was still early in the morning and the winter clouds covered the sun. I pray the heavy odor of the horses will cover my scent as the wind blows, causing my dress to billow freely behind me.

I become so distracted by my loss of breath and the horses stampeding across the dark plain, I forget the one that is chasing me.

“Let me see your face.”

The voice that belongs to the vampire king sounds hopeless and sad, begging for me to turn and face him. I freeze for a moment, scared out of my wits before something inside of me yearns for me to turn to him.

Slowly, I turn to face him and our eyes lock. Instantly, a feeling I have never felt before takes over me and I suddenly want nothing more than to spend my life loving this man.  In a split second, his deep red eyes instantly turn emerald green as a dimpled, beautiful smile outbreaks on his face. His eyes fill with tears as he takes a step towards me, arms open to embrace me.

“My love, you don’t know how long I have waited for you.” He speaks softly and before I know it, he is within arms reach and gently taking my hand in his. He lightly gasps at the electrifying shock that goes through us and somehow his smile grows wider.

“You’re bleeding.” He states simply, making me look down to see my dress torn and my feet and my shin dripping blood from the briars. Surprisingly, I wasn’t scared as he leans down and places his face in the crook of my neck, even though I could feel his sharp fangs scraping across my vital veins. “Your blood smells so sweet, so delicious.” I tremble at his words, his tone causing tingles to run through me.

I actually wanted him to bite me.

Tiny, curious faeries emerge from the wood and their tiny bell-like rings fill my ears as a few watch us. I mentally say goodbye to them in my mind.

“What is your name, my darling?” He asks as he continues to lightly drag his teeth down my soft, vulnerable neck.

“A-Adelaide, Your Highness,” I whispered shakily, shocking myself as I turn my head to expose even more of my throat.

“Adelaide,” He purrs my name, the tingles now in my most private and secret place. I blush at my thoughts and feelings after just meeting this man, but what he does next shocks me to the core.

“You will never run from me or leave again. You’re mine now, ” He says, his voice turning dark before his sharp teeth sink into my neck and a bloodcurdling scream escapes me as he holds me still. He is ravenous and acts as if he hadn’t drank in years as I feel my body being drained dry. He slowly sinks us to the ground and I feel the soft grass against my skin as I stare up at the sky in shock, my mouth open in a silent scream as I feel myself becoming weaker and weaker. My pure white dress was now covered in my own blood as it drained out of the two puncture wounds in my neck.

Finally, he pulls away and I stare at his blood covered face as I feel my eyes failing me. Still, I did not fear him for an unknown reason. I trusted him as he whispers and lulls me to close my eyes. “Sleep, sweet Adelaide. We are going home now.”

|| The New Girl ||

{summary: “the other students call Peter ‘Penis’ Parker.”}

this whole story was inspired by a snippet in an ign article that i screencapped and posted yesterday x))))) it was the best prompt for me and i just had to write something short and sweet for it!

this is dedicated to all of my readers out there who have given my stories a chance and followed this blog. i really love you guys and i thank you so much for making this personal blog of mine so much fun to run!

warnings: none

**Please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. reblogs are fine!**


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Their Amy; His Liebling (pt. 3)

After quite a struggle and few choice words, the Host manages to get Mark into the bed, taking off his (horrendous) Crocs gently and placing the cover over him. When Lewis, glowing for the visitor, snuggles up onto the pillow beside Mark’s head, Host sits down in his armchair and rests a hand on Mark’s arm. The touch transports him into Mark’s mind where the sleeping man’s thoughts become visible, even to the blind Ego, and Host begins speaking to him softly.

“Mark does not wake from his sleep. Instead, he feels himself slipping deeper and deeper into slumber.” Host senses Mark’s nightmares beginning to rise and gasps at the sight of them. “The nightmares vanish, drifting away like dust in the breeze.” Inside of Mark’s mind, a breeze whips up, ruffling the Host’s hair, but the nightmares still loom dangerously over Mark.

The Host doesn’t release his hold on Mark’s thoughts. He presses against the night terrors with a battery of soothing words. “Mark thinks of Miss Amy, his Liebling,” Host says softly, blushing at the final word. It seems too meaningful for his lips. “He thinks of her silly laugh that makes his chest swell each time he hears it, and he thinks of all the times she’s given him one of her playful glances.”

The nightmares, however, begin to take shape. The shape they take is easily recognizable as Dark, his hands folded perfectly behind his back and a smile on his face that breeds only terror in Mark’s heart. Host can feel their pulses racing in time together as the Host tries to fight back the image. “Mark must remember that Dark is locked away where he can never hurt anyone again. His power has been taken from him. He cannot speak; cannot manipulate.”

Still the terror grows until it twines with Mark’s memories, bringing both he and the Host back to that fateful day with Dark. The glint of light over Dark’s instruments of horror, the screams of pain and cries for mercy that never came. Host feels his chest tighten. It becomes hard to breathe until Mark breaks from sleep into waking again, jolting upright in bed and throwing off the Host’s touch.

The Host snaps back into reality, a sightless reality, void of color or light. Tears streak down Mark’s cheeks as he gasps for air. Beads of cold sweat cling to his hairline along the back of his neck, and he reaches back to brush them away. “I-I thought,” Mark begins slowly, “that you could help me.”

Host swallows, and Lewis leaps from the bed into his owner’s lap, pushing his head under the Host’s shaking hand so that he will feel the dragon’s smooth skin and soft warmth. Host strokes the little dragon carefully as his thoughts settle once again. “The Host finds that sometimes the hardest thing to combat is fear.”

Mark nods slowly. “I suppose I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be having nightmares, too.”

Host is taken aback by this statement. “The Host never told Mark that he was having nightmares. How did Mark know that?”

“Well, when you look into my thoughts, I can look back, can’t I? A window goes both ways.” Mark runs a hand through his hair, mussing it even worse than it was a moment ago, but at least it’s out of his eyes. “You said that the other Egos come to you when they have nightmares, but who do you go to?”

Lewis feels Host’s nervousness and snaps his tiny jaws at Mark. Host tries to calm the little dragon but can barely contain his own anxious feelings. “The Host did not know that others could see into his thoughts when he looks into theirs.”

“Maybe others can’t,” Mark offers. “Maybe I can because we’re…” He trails off, not wanting to say, “because we’re the same person,” because that isn’t true. “You can read people like books, can’t you?”

Host isn’t shocked by the question. In fact, he’s heard it many times before, but… never as the Host. He’s only ever heard it before as… “As the Author, I was known for telling people all about themselves. It was a-a little party trick I did to impress people.”

Mark notes the change from third to first person but doesn’t mention it for fear of insulting the Host. “Will I ever beat this?” he asks after a moment.

The Host taps the arm of his chair, deep in thought. “You’ve beaten things before. I don’t see why you can’t defeat this inner demon.”

Mark huffs and shakes his head. “It’s not the inner demons I’m worried about,” he bites his lip before continuing, “it’s the one on the outside that scares me.”

more everyday macdennis au’s:

- dennis takes the commuter rail to work now after a small incident during a traffic buildup on the highway where he got out of his car and starting screaming at people to move through their windows. mac is the conductor who goes around and checks everyone’s tickets. he feels super badass because he gets to wear a walkie talkie and the ticket hole-puncher could act as a deadly weapon if needed. dennis gets on at the first stop each morning and sits in the same seat—it’s next to the window that allows the perfect lighting for him to fix up his makeup in his pocket mirror—and always spreads out his bag and items on the seat next to him so no one can sit there. mac always lingers after checking dennis’ tickets, hoping to strike up a conversation before the next stop where it starts to get busy, but dennis barely pays him attention, too busy with scrolling through his Important Work Emails to notice. usually mac would yell at people for taking up two spots, but he lets it slide for dennis.

- dennis joins a gym because he feels like he’s losing his perfect physique from sitting around at work all day. he’s tried not eating anything but he’s still losing his tone. the first time he goes he notices a well-built guy with muscular arms on one of the workout bikes. he’s going pretty fast and sweating hard and dennis wants to laugh because he knows if that were him he’d barely break a sweat given how naturally athletic he is. knowing he can one up Arm Guy, he takes the bike next to him, peering over to see what speed/resistance he’s going at and sets his level even higher. within five minutes he faints, falling off the bike and hitting his head on the floor. he comes to a few minutes later, eyes cracking open, and sees dark, fluffy hair and brown concerned eyes. he feels a wet towel on his head. “you okay, bro?” Arm Guy asks. dennis mumbles something about not eating today and that it had nothing to do with how in shape he was and Arm Guy —mac, he learns—helps him stand up and then buys him a fruit shake at the smoothie bar downstairs.

- dennis gets shared custody of his son brian jr. and moves closer to him and his mother so he can see him more often. his first week taking care of brian, dennis brings him to elementary school before work. he’s never been there before and is less than pleased when the first two people he meets are charlie, the school janitor who smells of cheese and carries rat traps in his pockets, and artemis, the brazen principal who has a tendency for oversharing information about her body and smokes in the halls. he’s about to go rage and scream about the poor health standards and unconscionable behavior when brian jr. happily calls out “mr. mcdonald!” and runs over to a guy with slicked-back hair who’s wearing a tie and a tight, short-sleeved button up that showed off his buff, tattooed arms. the teacher gives brian a high-five as he answers “hey little dude!” he then looks up and notices dennis. his expression changes and he clears his throat as he stands. “you must be brian’s dad,” he smiles with an extended arm. “i’m mac mcdonald, brian’s first grade teacher.” dennis shakes his hand reluctantly, suspiciously eyeing the man. maybe he’d give the place a chance. for now.
and so it goes,
if i write enough for you to know,
for you to see the windows of my soul–
and so it goes,
if i bleed out my words to show
you that snow is just a raindrop roll–
ing around in a blanket of white roses
waiting for you to warm and flow
thoughts back into us, we will grow
from the soil and concrete, we will woah
and awe our way back to where the wind blows–
i am not whole
on my worst days of glow–
there is a sadness with a costly toll,
our woes dressed down into foes
we buried our secrets, we reap what we sow–
or so it goes, or so we’ll know
if our regrets break through the window
as a bird that keeps trying to escape this hell hole,
which way do i go when your eyes keep saying
no, this isn’t rain, this is snow
from a distant memory of when we didn’t grow,
of when we didn’t know,
of when we lost our souls–
my senses may be dull,
but my heart shall be full
some day and if i love you before i wake, go
back to a place when yes means no,
and a couple of misfits mowed
down as pressed daisies with no tomorrow–
if life brings love and romance whispers sorrow,
if my stars broke, if an arrow
pierces my heart, zero
goodbyes shall be said by the hero
to the princess of white, bliss and snow–
and so it goes, and so it goes–
no… this snow? it’s just really, really… ya know…
—  this snow is just really, really pretty rain.
Forgotten Home

request: HI hello :) I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the girl is a young child when she first goes to never land and the lost boys get a long with her. Then she returns years later with the shadow and pans all shocked ect. I love your writing and if you can do this then thank you so much!!

author’s note: thank you so much for requesting! this is a little different from the original request because i’ve read stuff similar to this prompt before, so i hope you still like it! pan may seem a little out of character; i had a hard time writing his character when interacting with a child that he is supposed to be close to. i haven’t edited this, so i apologize for any mistakes xoxo

-8 years old-

“Y/N? Where are you, darling?” I hear my mother’s feet on the creaking staircase. “It’s time for bed.”

           I hold my breath as she knocks on my bedroom door. I cover my mouth with one sweaty hand to keep her from hearing me laugh.

           She doesn’t wait for me to answer her; she pushes the door open and steps into the pink room. “Y/N,” she calls. “Come out now, sweetheart.”

           I stay under my bed, staring at her slippers with anxiety. I try to scoot back further to avoid being seen, but my butt awkwardly hits the mattress above me. My eyes squeeze shut from both the shame and the aggravation of giving away my hiding place.

           My mother’s feet turn towards me and walk to the edge of my bed. “Y/N, love, please.”

           Sighing, I crawl out.

           My mother gives me a sad smile, warm palm cupping my dirty cheek. “What were you doing, Y/N?”

           “I was hiding,” I say quietly.

           “Why were you hiding from me?”

           I frown. “I wasn’t hiding from you.”

           She returns my look, though she appears more confused. “Then who were you hiding from?”

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thisissirius  asked:

16 :)

‘Just tell me what’s wrong! Nothing will get better if you just shut yourself away! I’m hurting when I see you like this, okay?! Just talk to me!’

Aaron is knelt on the floor of the Woolpack toilets, his hands against the door of one of the cubicles. He doesn’t care about the stains on his knees or the possible diseases he might be exposed to right now. None of that has crossed his mind, because Robert is hyperventilating on the other side of the door. It’s a terrifying sound. It makes Aaron feel like there’s a fist clutching his heart, dragging it up through his throat.

‘Robert, please.’

A firework goes up outside the window, howling and popping in and out of existence. Robert gasps, his breathing screeching to a halt for a moment. Aaron gets down low, his face resting against the floor. He can see Robert curled up on the tiles, his back against the wall. It’s an image that drives shards of ice into Aaron’s chest. He reaches under the door, placing his hand over Robert’s. It’s cold, clammy, and reminds Aaron far too much of a corpse.


‘They’re using cheap fireworks,’ Robert says, his voice torn to shreds. ‘I heard Zack and Cain talking. Joking. Said the whole place might go up in flames.’

All of a sudden it makes sense. Aaron squeezes Robert’s hand, hoping the small gesture can express everything he wants to say but can’t find the words for.

‘Open the door,’ He says. ‘We can stay here until the fireworks are finished. Just please, open the door so I can sit with you.’

Robert’s hand slips out from under Aaron’s. A moment later, the lock clicks open.

put a number in my ask and i’ll write a 200(ish) word ficlet
Behind the Yellow Line | Chapter 1  Archive of Our Own
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Dennis isn’t interested in a train conductor, that’s just bizarre. Mac isn’t in love with the curly-haired commuter who sits in the same seat every day. 

I wrote this macdennis au idea a few months ago and decided to make it into an actual story:

dennis takes the commuter rail to work now after a small incident during a traffic buildup on the highway where he got out of his car and starting screaming at people to move through their windows. mac is the conductor who goes around and checks everyone’s tickets. he feels super badass because he gets to wear a walkie talkie and the ticket hole-puncher could act as a deadly weapon if needed. dennis gets on at the first stop each morning and sits in the same seat—it’s next to the window that allows the perfect lighting for him to fix up his makeup in his pocket mirror—and always spreads out his bag and items on the seat next to him so no one can sit there. mac always lingers after checking dennis’ tickets, hoping to strike up a conversation before the next stop where it starts to get busy, but dennis barely pays him attention, too busy with scrolling through his Important Work Emails to notice. usually mac would yell at people for taking up two spots, but he lets it slide for dennis.

I never thought I’d be writing macdennis fanfiction about the commuter rail, but alas…

Thanks in advance for reading and I appreciate any feedback!