bike throw

Sword Fighting For Fic Writers: Chapter 13

You can follow the tag #Swords for Fics if you want to keep up without following me :)

Available Chapters:
1.Dumb Ways to Die  2.May Your Blade Be True! 3.On Your Guard!
4. Making the Cut 5.Stick ‘em With the Pointy End 6.It’s Like a Dance
7. The Measure of A Man 8.A Crossing of Blades 9.Like Chess, but with Knives
An Interlude About Story Telling
10.You Can Barely Lift Your Sword 11.Buckle Some Swash 12.Dual Wielding
13.Everything is a Weapon 14.Got Your Sword 

Your Body Everything is a Weapon
Punching, Throwing, and Other Things

Up until now you may have noticed that with one handed swords I draw the free hand tucked in behind the fighter’s back. That wasn’t just me trying to avoid drawing more hands. If you’re not using that arm in a fight, it’s better to keep it back and out of the way rather than making it another target. I’ve also seen it placed on the hip in case it becomes needed, or just waving around in the back. In this chapter we’ll talk about ways that free hand can help. We’ll also be covering throwing the opponent down, and using the pommel of the sword.

Using Your Free Hand:

Most of the time it’s going to be more practical and efficient to use the sword to make an attack. There will be times though when the defender’s sword is restrained and the attacker doesn’t want to kill their opponent that they may go for a punch. Or maybe they just see an opening and say to hell with it. For your narrative, do whatever feels badass. When defending against fist attacks with your own arm, you’re essentially doing the same thing as you do with your sword. Use the “true edge” of your arm to block then counter attack.

It may seem stupid to grab your opponent’s sword by the blade, but it’s a thing. Swords aren’t lightsabers. You can grab them. There are ways to safely do this without cutting yourself. Other times it’ll just be better to take a shallow cut on the hand to finish the fight. Typically grabs will be done against a blade that’s not in motion. You’re not going to catch a swinging blade. Gloves and gauntlets make grabbing even safer. The sword arm is another thing to grab to control their weapon. Grabs can be turned into disarms. More on that in “Got Your Sword!” (chapter coming soon)

Kicking: I myself have not encountered kicking in fights so take this with some salt. If it happens it probably happens mostly in grappling range. Kicking your foot out without the opponent’s sword controlled is sticking a big target out there. If you don’t throw them off balance enough with the move you’ll be vulnerable while you reset. But for narrative purposes, you can stick with the rule of cool: if it’s cool, go or it!

Using the Pommel: Using the pommel to strike is a good method of dealing a non-lethal blow. It’s most easily done after a yield (see “A Crossing of Blades”). Instead of continuing to spin the blade around, the blade stops it’s turn with the sword pointing down, then rams into the opponent’s face with the back end of the sword. There’s also a way to use the hilt to hook the opponent’s weapon into a disarm. More on that in “Got Your Sword”.

Throwing: To throw an opponent first you need to get close to them. Let’s assume that’s been done. Maybe you stepped in during an attack or defense and they didn’t step back. First break their structure to set them off balance by pushing into their face. Pushing up under the chin is especially helpful, lifting them up a bit as well as pushing them back. If you’re pushing with your right arm then your right leg steps behind them, pushing your hip into theirs. Now turn then beg the legs. Turning will push them back over your leg, tripping them. Even a small person can take out a bigger person like this. The key thing to remember is that if you’re set up to throw them, they can turn it around and throw you instead by getting their leg behind your’s. So be quick about unbalancing them.

Here’s just one version of a throw. Another version is done with the opponents facing each other. Another involves lifting the victim’s leg. Some throws involve using your weapon as leverage, pushing the hilt to break their structure. 

Cloaks and Capes: This is another area I’m not personally experienced in and would encourage you to look up if it appeals to you. But so that you know the option is available, capes were often used for defences with things like grabbing swords with the hand protected by the cape, or tangling the opponents sword. Sometimes it was used just as a decoy to cover movements like a matador. Look it up sometime if your fighter wears a cape. They don’t just look cool and keep you warm.

Literally Anything: Think Jackie Chan. Literally anything can be used as a weapon with a little creativity. Swing a bike at people, throw things, kick up dirt, bite, push over bookshelves. Take a look at the environment. Maybe throw a chair in your attacker’s path as you back away making them stumble. Maybe the hero opens the coral of an angry bull the moment they look to be cornered. There’s a low hanging branch to be pulled back and slapped forward. There’s a cliff to corner them on or a wall to push them up against. Carpets can be pulled out from under people’s feet. Hot tea! Pepper! Sink holes! Go nuts!

3-year-old Wingman (Connor Murphy x Reader babysitting fluff)


3-year-old Wingman (Connor Murphy x Reader fluff babysitting AU its fuckin lame)

3000+ words

Ps: im bad at revising

TW: angst, lots of swearing, toddlers, very very brief mentions of depression, anxiety, and suicide

You saw a dim light flicker from the corner of your eye as you played Uno with your young nephew, accompanied by a slight ding signaling you got a text. You knew it was probably Connor.

“You can get your phone, it’s okay.” your nephew told you, sounding wise beyond his years for a 3-and-a-half-year-old. He was the most adorable thing, and you couldn’t get over it.

“Nope, buddy. I need my full concentration for this game. I’m not gonna lose to you again. They can wait a couple of minutes until I demolish you at this Uno.” you replied sternly, lifting your head up high, causing giggles to erupt for the small boy. You couldn’t help but smile back. But your lips fell when your phone started dinging over and over and over again. Your nephew peered up at you with big eyes, silently telling you to just get it. You put up a finger, putting your cards face to use your other hand to reach for your phone. You were right, it was Connor.

7 messages from Connor



what are you up to

i’m bored

my parents aren’t home


you’re my only friend i want to hang out with you dammit

You couldn’t help but to let a smile form on your face. This fucking kid. You couldn’t believe that this was the boy that barely spoke two words to you over a span of a month when you were lab partners. At the start of Junior Year, you had to take a physics class as a prereq for graduating. The class was filled with seniors, leaving you and this mysterious, and super scary Connor Murphy as the only two juniors. So, your teacher paired you up, resentment oozing out of Connor. You basically did the projects by yourself, him helping with data or equations you didn’t understand yourself, but you never actually talked much. You did your work in silence. Until you noticed he was writing some old fall out boy (A/N: I feel like everyone just mutually agreed on Connor liking FOB so I’m just going along with it.)  lyrics on one of his data sheets.

“That’s a good song.” You murmured, peering back at your paper, trying to work through this problem that made zero sense.

“You like fall out boy?” he mumbled, trying to figure out what you were trying to do by making conversation with him.

“Yeah, Pete Wentz was the love of my life for a while. They were actually my first concert back in middle school, when they made a comeback. But they peeked at From Under A Cork Tree.”  Connor smiled at this, agreeing silently with everything you just said. His smile was addictive, so you kept going. Seeing how long you could kept a conversation going and his smile up as well. You mostly talked at first. But his word count each week was increasing exponentially. Until you went a whole class listening to him talk about how The Smiths was easily the best band ever and better than Nirvana and that Nirvana is over-hyped because everyone romanticizes Kurt’s suicide while no one really actually cares about the depressed kid until they are gone. The conversation kind of died after that. Him feeling like he said too much, and you just not knowing what to say. Something told you he wasn’t just talking about Kurt Cobain. So, you kind of squeezed his hand momentarily, which he would never admit, made him blush like a madman and almost pushed him into a panic attack, he was so overwhelmed and caught off guard. Then, the game changed for Connor. It was bound to happen; a crush was going to form. Connor fell victim, falling hard. No one really reached out to him before, unless it was to make fun of him and get in his head. He was the school’s punching bag. Even school nerds like Jared Kleinman picked on him. He always noticed you before. You never laughed at him when other made jokes. But he didn’t realize that not only a friendship was forming, but a crush as well. And when he did, it was too late to abort. This boy was in love with you from the time you spotted those fall out boy lyrics to be honest.

Another ding snapped you out of your reminiscing.

6 messages from Connor:

Are you alive


no that’s ridiculous

of course you are


you never not text me

You texted him back quickly, knowing he was probably thinking of all the ways you just lying on the street dead to your body floating in the river face down. He confessed that this happened a lot to you. He’d just get bad, intrusive thoughts he couldn’t shake away.

im alive and well. Just babysitting my nephew Carter. HES SO CUTE

You snapped a picture of Carter playing Uno and sent it to Connor. Before you could even put down your phone, another familiar ding alerted you.

1 message from Connor:


you’re heartless

4 messages from Connor:

i know

guess i’ll go hang with my other friends


woe is me

shut up nerd

if you want, come babysit

1 message from Connor:

hell fucking no

well i have to go then. i gotta win this game of uno this 3 year old is putting me to shame

2 messages from Connor:

you’re so embarrassing why am i friends with you

i’ll be over in ten

You smiled at the last message. Connor wasn’t the only one with the crush. Yes, yours did develop later in your relationship, but it was definitely equal to Connors admiration for you. Connor didn’t really start opening up after about three months into your friendship. Once he talked about the whole Kurt Cobain thing, he kind of laid low for a little, you having to steer the conversation if you wanted it to live. He was touchy, so you had to handle him with care. You tried to bring it up a few times, to just get immediately shut down. You’d always ask in school, because you weren’t at the point of hanging outside of it yet. But he’d always change topic. It’s not like he didn’t trust you, it was everyone around him. Paranoid they were secretly listening in on your chats. So, you decided to take initiative. It was exactly 3 months of you being friends, so you asked if he wanted to hang.


“What…” he replied, seemingly uninteresting as he doodled along the margin of his already finished calc problems. He was actually a fucking genius. He wasn’t just artistic, but the kid had a brain. But that’s a different topic.

“You know what today is?”

“I ‘donno know,” all his words kind of running together, “Friday?”

“No.” you felt dumb now. “Never mind.”

“No what’s today. I like hearing your weird ass facts. Is it like, Morrissey’s birthday, or like the anniversary of The Queen Is Dead album?”

“You’re gonna find it stupid that I was even going to make a big deal out of it, so, never mind.”

“No, tell me.”




“Fucking god, (Y/N). Just tell me already.”

“It’s our ¼ friendaversary.”

“What? What the fuck is that shit?”

“See. I knew you’d find it dumb.”

“N-no, I just don’t know what the fuck that is.” Connor genuinely asked.

“We’ve been friends for three months, Connor. That’s what it means. I thought you were good at math?”

“That’s a thing? And people celebrate that? I wasn’t aware that was a milestone.”

“No, people don’t really celebrate it. But we do our own thing.”

“How is it three months?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, how do you figure?”

“Oh… It’s the day we talked about fall out boy. Remember?” You shifted awkwardly in your desk, realizing that knowing the exact date you first bonded was creepy.

“Barely.” he lied. Of course, he fucking did. He wouldn’t stop thinking about you that moment for the rest of that week. Then, he’d just think of you in general from that point on all the time. You consumed his thoughts, both during day and night. You were even in his dreams.

“We should, like, I don’t know… Hang out tonight.”

“We’ve never hung out before. What would we even do.”

“Friend things.” you sneered

“And what does that consist of.” he jabbed back.

“I don’t know, Connor. Like, use that vivid imagination of yours. Pizza and a movie. Pizza and video games. Pizza and anything. Pizza just had to be the foundation.

“Well, do you wanna go out somewhere. Or like hang out at someone’s house?”

“It’s getting cold out so we can hang at one of our houses, if you want?”

“Um, can we go to yours? My parents will be home and I don’t like to ask them things.”

“Sure, they won’t mind you’re going to be over right?”

“Um, I wasn’t going to tell them.”

“Why, are you embarrassed of me.” you joked. Connor didn’t respond right away. “Wait, are you?”

“No, of course not. It’s just…” he paused, pursing his lips, you noticed his prominent cupid’s bow. “It’s complicated.” he grumbled, “What time do you want me over for this stupid celebration.”

“Well if you think it’s stupid-”

Connor started speaking over you, “For this very awesome, cool, great, fan-fucking-tastic celebration. I misspoke.”


“Can’t wait.” he responded sarcastically, rolling his eyes. But you both knew he couldn’t.

That night consisted of pizza, of course. And Connor opted for old NES games, which he beat you at every single time.

“Okay, literally fuck Excitebike! It’s so dumb you can overheat your bike?” I shouted, throwing my controller.

“You’re such a sore loser.”

“I am not! It’s just Excitebike is dumb. Let’s go back to Punch Out!, or Galaga. I’m warmed up now, and I’ll definitely win.”

“You’ve said that after every single game.”

“No, I’m serious now, my game was just off.”


“Plus, I had drawing today, so my hand was already tired.”

“Whatever you say, (Y/N).”

“I think I broke my thumb last week squeezing it between my locker.”

“Of course you did.” he taunted, trying to resist a smile. His eyes were gleaming, he was enamored. He was trying even harder to not kiss you.

“I’m going to beat you next week.”

“Next week?”

“I mean, if you’re free.” you tried to not sound desperate, but failing.

“Do you see all my other friends lining up to hang out with me?” he deadpanned.

“Then, It’s a date.”

“Date?” Connor quickly caught your phrasing, trying to understand your intention.

You froze, “You know, not an actual date. Like, a platonic date, bro.” you tried your hardest to brush it off, but failing. Again. You scolded yourself for using the term ‘bro’. But Connor let it go, though he did feel wounded.

“Got it, bro.” Sourly putting emphasis on the latter word, “Play me again so I can fucking win for the millionth time.” he said, a little too aggressively.

“You good?”

“Dandy. I just want to prove I’m good enough for you.” he accidentally professed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquired.

“God, just play me. That’s what I mean.”

You didn’t want to press him. The tension in the air was at an all-time high. Connor never really got snippy like this with you. I mean, yes, he did sometimes raise his voice or make a rude remark. But he’d habitually curse under his breath and apologize immediately. You always understood, knowing all the pent-up anger inside him. But then Connor seemed to relax again once you started playing Punch Out!, taking his anger out through Little Mac on King Hippo, and then the two of you went back to having fun. In Connor’s head though, he definitely planned to kiss you that night, but the way to swerved the date topic, he lost all his confidence. Taking it as you’d never see him in a romantic light. That was almost 6 months ago, and he still hasn’t made a move.

You came out of your daydream once again when Carter yelled out Uno, well a version of the word.

“Unope!” he added a P in the end for whatever reason. You decided against telling him. How were you losing to a 3-year-old for the seventh time?! He placed down a red 4, excitement in his eyes. He definitely had a red, you could see it in his eyes. You looked at your hand, filled with about a dozen reds from the draw 4s he was hitting you with. So, you decided to take your chance picking up a card from the deck. A yellow 4.

“You aren’t winning today.” you placed the card down, smirking. The 3-year-old squealed out and slapped down a yellow 7.

“Outto!!!” he cheered, the bastard winning again. You couldn’t believe he had a yellow out of everything.

You throw up your cards in a joking manner, “You don’t even know the whole alphabet!” another fit of giggles came from your nephew.

“I least he can win at Uno,” a voice came through the door. “You’re a destined loser. I don’t think you’ve ever won at anything.” Connor trudged through the door in his beat up brown jean jacket and combat boots, his nose red from the cold approaching winter air.

“False!” you yelled out, going up to Connor and giving him a bear hug. He slung an arm around you, bringing him closer to him. He rested his chin on your head, inhaling your scented shampoo. He couldn’t pick out the scent, but you reminded him he needed to wash his hair soon.

“Solitaire doesn’t count. You literally okay that by yourself.”

You pushed him away, “Whatever, shut up. I’m not a sore loser at least.”

“You totally are though?” he remarks back, “You make up excuses. You just told your nephew he doesn’t know the alphabet because you’re angry you lost.”

“I said, whatever! Shut up.” you fake yell like you’re pissed off. “Connor, this is Carter, my favorite nephew. Carter, this is Connor, my least favorite friend.” Connor waved awkwardly at the child before him, Carter got up from his chair and jumped down. He tugged on his skinny jean pant leg that was still too big because he was so lanky. His legs were skinnier than yours.

“It’s touching me.” Connor whispered to you.

“Carter wants you to pick him up. He probably wants to tell you something.”

“How do I pick it up.”

“Connor, why are you an inept alien? Like you aren’t from earth.”

Connor leans down and scoops up Carter, Carter whispering something in his ear.

“Both our names do begin with C. You are correct. Here I thought you didn’t know your alphabet.” Connor repeated what Carter told him aloud, looking over at you and raising his eyebrow. Carter whispered again, cupping his hands around his mouth so you wouldn’t hear.

“You know until L,” he paused, listening more. “Yeah, no I get it, it does get confusing at that point.” Carter continued. You couldn’t help but to burn up at the sight. Your two favorite guys. “Yeah, I’ll stop talking out loud.” you assumed Carter asked him to keep the next thing a secret. Connor starts to turn red and looks at you for a split second. Connor puts Carter down, trickery written on your nephew’s face, bashfulness on Connor’s. Carter ran into your living room, picking up train tracks and started to build.

You squeeze Connor’s thin arm, “What did he tell you?”

Connor smiled lopsidedly, “It’s a secret. I can’t tell you.” he confidently takes your hand and dragged you into the living room. The three of you spend the day playing with trains, then move to watching rug rags, then back to trains, and then finally Carter passed out fast asleep coloring with Connor at the table. You pick Carter up, leaving Connor to keep coloring.

“Is he knocked out?” Connor realizing you left, walking to the bottom of the stairs, watching you walk up them with Carter on your back.

“Yes, finally. I thought we were going to have to play trains again. A girl can only play with Thomas a number of times before she goes a little stir crazy.”

Connor catches up to you on the steps, “I can put him to bed, if you wanna clean up downstairs.” he proposes, you nodded and let Connor take Carter off your back. You watched as Carter curled up in Connor’s chest, having your stomach dropped.

Shit. You really liked Connor.

You realized you were just staring at Connor, making him shift awkwardly under your stare. “Um, I’m, uh, yeah. I’m gonna go do that.” you chuckled awkwardly, going downstairs. Mentally punching yourself in the face for being weird. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought to yourself. You start with the crayons, putting them back in the box. You picked up pictures that Carter drew. You laughed at the stick figures, most of them being Connor, him, and you. Flipping through the pictures, Carter start drawing you and Connor holding hands, then there was one of you two dancing, then the last one displayed you kissing. You smile softly, thinking about the possibility of what Carter told Connor that he blushed so furiously at. You looked over at the end of the table, realizing a turned over paper where Connor was sitting. You glanced at the stairs making sure Connor was still upstairs. You creep over to the paper, turning it over.

It was you. Where you were sitting, coloring, looking down with strands of your hair falling in front of your eyes. Eyes that seemed to sparkle, smile lines that corresponded with an closed smirk, a soft dimple marking your cheek. He made you look so beautiful. It was so…  realistic. And, just amazing.

“Don’t look at that.” Connor hissed, trying taking it out of your hands.

“This is me…” you stated, trailing off.

“It’s nothing. Let it go.” he continued, not sure if he meant the paper or the topic.

“No, I have questions.”

“I’m not playing 20/20 questions. Just forget I drew that. Rip it up.”

“What did Carter tell you.”

“I have to go, (Y/N), it’s getting late.”

“Just tell me, Connor.”

“The secret? The stupid fucking secret some 3 year old told me?”

“I wanna know the secret you’ve been keeping from me for like 6 months.”

“And what the fuck would that be.” He knew what you were getting on about.

“Tell me how you feel about me.”

Connor blushed, “I’m leaving.”

“Stop,” you run in front of the door. Placing a hand on Connor’s chest.

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Then when will you?!” You whisper shout, remembering Carter is still upstairs sleeping,

You two stared at each other, both feeling vulnerable. Connor clenched his jaw.

“Never. You’re too good for me. You’re a thousand times too good for me. I don’t deserve you. I’m a loser, a freak. And you’re, I don’t even fucking know a good word to describe you. You're… just… perfect. And I know deep down you don’t actually like me. Just let me go home. I’ve embarrassed myself enough, don’t you think.

“You’re so dense, Connor.” You grabbed the back of his head, doing what he should’ve 6 months ago. Really, what you should’ve done 9 months ago. Your lips collided together. The kiss itself was flawed: Connor kissed you back to roughly, your noses bumped, and both of you kind of smelled like wax from the crayons. But it was enough. It was more than enough for both of you. It was perfect.

“Finally.” a tiny voice said from the top of the stairs, “Took you guys long enough.” You both snapped your heads over, breaking the kiss. It’s the fucking kid.

“Talk to us when you know the alphabet.” Connor called out, kissing you lightly this time like he’d never hurt you, and he never will. Carter trotted back to his room.

“Someone needs to tuck me in again.” Carter yelled. You looked over at Connor.

“Yeah, I got it.” Connor told you, and started for the stairs. “Oh, and if isn’t obvious, I fucking love you, (Y/N).”

You rolled your eyes at his word choice, but your stomach did back flips, “I fucking love you, Murphy.”



News of your disappearance spread like wildfire, your parents didn’t know how to react, they didn’t know how to tell those back at home that you were now missing. But they weren’t the ones to spread the news, sadly the news spread quicker than expected. Headlines blew up the United States, “Young Girl Missing in Europe.”

There was only a picture of the girl, and a small story. Peter had soon read the story, his new friend, Ned, showing him the headline. “That’s-s Y/N… “

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ned quickly handed his phone back to his mom, “do you think they’ll find her?”

“She promised she would be home on August 13.” Peter had been broken from the news he received, he didn’t want to talk about the fact that his best friend was now missing. “Hey Pete, I just heard the news, I’m sorry honey.”

Peter didn’t react, he only sat there, looking at the purple popsicle that sat on his bedside desk. “She’ll come back.”

Aunt May wanted to hug her little nephew but all she did was sit down next to him, putting her arm around his shoulder.

3 months had soon passed, it was now 3 days into the school year, Peter knew you weren’t coming home. Her parents came home from Europe, and Peter wanted to run over to see if his best friend was there, but she wasn’t.

Peter turned to the table, sitting down and now doing his homework, a knock came on the door, May stood up from the sofa, pulling the door open to see Y/N’s mom standing there, a red cup of popsicle sticks in her hands, her cheeks stained red.

“Y/N would want Peter to have these.” Peter stood up, walking towards the door, watching as Y/N’s mom handed him the cup, it was full of the multiple popsicle sticks, each one a different color or some have the same. “Oh.. um.. Thank you..”

She wiped away a tear from her cheek, and turned to look at May, she gave her a hug, and walked out of the room. Peter set the cup on the table, looking at the facts he had given to his best friend, each one better than the last but it was undeniable that his favorite was either about the turtles or that coca cola was originally green.

“Time for school, Peter.” Aunt May placed her hand on Peter’s shoulder and they both prepared to leave for school.



“Time for school, Peter.” Peter nodded, following Aunt May out of the apartment, your mom sat there, reading the mail in her hand. “Good Morning May.”

“Morning, how are you today?” She smiled and put the mail down on her side, “I’m good, almost done packing.”

Ever since Y/N disappeared everything changed in your family, your parents started to fight, blaming each other for you going missing, but they eventually split up, and now your mother is moving out of the apartment. Peter wanted to help every opportunity he got, he would sometimes help her take out the trash or bring her for lunch.

Peter looked down at his phone, today was August 13,more than 3 years since you went missing. “Peter, you gonna come and see me at the new house?”

Peter snapped back into attention, “oh, yah, uh of course.”

“You guys better get going. I’ll have to invite you over some time soon for a housewarming party.” A smile traveled onto her face as she pulled the apartment door open. Peter nodded in agreement and followed Aunt May downstairs as they prepared to leave for school.

“It’s gonna be your first day of school!!! You ready to be back?” Aunt May was more excited that Peter got to get out of the house, and she got to be alone.

They walked out to the car, Peter got in the side and waited for Aunt May to start to drive him, once she was in, she started the car, pulling out of the small parking garage and into the crowded road. “I’ll see you when you get back home, just take the trolley, yeah?”

Peter nodded and jumped out of the car and walked up to the school. He saw his best friend Ned, standing there fiddling with a hat on his head. “Calm down Ned, you look fine.” A smile traveled to the young man’s face, “let’s make this year good.”

“It’ll be great.” Peter’s eyes traveled to see Liz walking into the school, her best friend Michelle at her side, they were giggling along as they walked into the school. Liz looked towards Peter, she moved her hair behind her ear, smiling at him.

“It’s going to be the best year yet.”


Black Widow had control on the large rover, Hawk Eye shooting arrows from the back, they sped through the snowy woods, the same rover following behind them with the enemy in it. One of the enemies came flying up from the side, almost in an Iron Man suit, but instead he only had a jetpack on his shoulders.

Black Widow reacted quickly, pulling the door open and kicking the man in the chest, causing him to fly back in the air. Iron Man came across the front, hitting someone off the rover, and soon Hawk Eye had to do the same, kicking someone off the back of the car. The car drove up to them, Hawk Eye couldn’t react in time, they started to fire an alien gun at the car, Black Widow swerved the car, confused on what was happening.

“Get it under control!” Thor was soon in on the action, jumping on the other car ad destroying the large gun on the top of the car, with his large hammer he soon hit the person in the driver seat, causing them to swerve.

Thor jumped off the car, landing on a watch tower and fighting 4 people. Iron man was doing the same, but circling the area around the car, Captain let out a scream from the back of the car, his motorcycle coming to the side of car.

Cap passed the car and joined Thor on the front lines, grabbing people and dragging them by the car. He soon through him at another one of his comrades, and his shield was thrown at a small base, causing a small explosion. He grabbed his shield from the ground, following behind Thor as he hit his hammer on the end of a vehicle causing it to flying upwards in a explosion.

Black Widow followed closely behind, Hawk eye still firing arrows into the enemy sidelines. Hulk let out a scream from the side as he picked up a vehicle, throwing it into another vehicle. They jumped over a large barrier, causing the avengers to now run into the forest without the car. Tony running ahead, scoping the area for other enemies.
He flew up in the air, looking at a large building plastered to the mountain, he started to locate a weak point where they could enter. He hit the side of the building causing him to bounce off as a blue holographic shield appeared. “SHIT!”

“Hey! Language.” Cap yelled on the other end of the line as he drove into the deep woods. “Jarvis what’s the view from upstairs.”

Jarvis focused on the building, looking at it from a space shuttle, “the central building is protected by somme kind of energy shield.”

The Avengers sighed as they watched Strucker’s men charge at them, “Strucker’s technology is well beyond any hydra base we’ve taken.” Thor started to fight a few of the enemies, “Loki’s scepter must be here. Strucker couldn’t mount this defense without low loss.”

The enemies behind Thor soon disappeared, he caught his hammer and waited to approach more people. The alien guns started to fire at the Avengers, Black widow threw a grenade towards the car of people, they flew up into the air, screams coming from all of them.

“Long last is lasting a little long boys.” Black Widow stated as she looked at the situation around her, Hawk Eye joined her, firing an arrow into a tank, killing the main shooter, “think we lost the element of surprise.”

“Wait a second, no one else is gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said language.” Tony stated from atop the building, “i know..”

Cap let a smirk come onto his face as he drove into the oncoming traffic, he jumped off his bike, throwing it forwards a car that was charging towards him. “Just slipped out..”

“Sir. The city is taking fire” Jarvis spoke lightly, “Well, we know Strucker’s nothing to worry about civilian casualties. Send in the Iron Legion.”

“Sir. There is a enemy causing mass amounts of energy.” Tony acknowledged Jarvis’ comment, “send in Scarlet Witch.”

“Already on it Stark.” Scarlet Witch approached from the side, circling the supernatural energy. She looked closely, it appeared to be a girl, her hair moving in the vicious winds she was creating, eyes glowing a bright blue as she stood in shock.

Her eyes traveled to see Scarlet Witch, she stood and watched the girl. The young girl’s hand flew up, a vehicle now flying towards Scarlet, she ducked quickly, landing in the melting snow. “Stark, she is like me.”

“Hawk go help her.” Tony kept circling for a vulnerable way into the building, but he was still stuck, “wait. She might be the one we are here for.”

Scarlet stood up, looking at the girl once more, her eyes still glowing. “I dont think she knows of her actions.”

“What do you mean?” Cap spoke lighlty, heading towards Scarlet Witch, “I didn’t exactly know what I was doinng. There is no sure way to find out what side is good and what side is bad if you’ve only fought for one.”

“Jarvis measure her vitals.” Jarvis did as Tony said, measuring the young girls vitals, “sir, she appears to have an immense amount of electric voltage coming from her neck.”

Tony flew back towards the radioactive currents, “is it running on a certain time schedule? Shocking at certain intervals.”

Jarvis focused in on the girl’s neck, there were no steady shocks for a certain amount of time, as the girl resisted attack someone, a generated shock was sent through her body. “It appears that when she resists attacking, the shocks are generated.”

“Get the collar off of her Scarlet.” Scarlet looked at the thick lined collar on the girl’s neck, “how am I supposed to do that?”

Jarvis spoke lightly, “there is a vulnerable point at the back of her neck?”

Scarlet Witch reacted quickly, but the young girl was quicker, she looked at the girl and lifted both of her hands up, causing Scarlet to fly in the air. She let out a scream as a swirl of wind started around her. It started slow but it moved faster, the tornado grew in size, ripping the trees from the ground, picking up the white snow fom the ground.

A scream escaped the tornado of whirlwind, panic reacting in Scarlet as she didn’t understand the emmence power coming from the girl. “Jarvis. Identify who she is.”

“On it sir.”

The tornado started to move, picking up a vechile with it, the girl was in a panic, her eyes turned back to their regular color. She looked into the tornado, almost as if she was looking for something, she reached her hand into the whirlpool of wind, her hand latched onto Scarlet’s as she tried to pull her out.

Scarlet looked at her with twrror on her face, her heart racing outside of her chest, “you are okay-y.” She spoke with a cracked voice, “I’m gonna help you out.”

The girl had a reassuring smile on her face, trying to comfort her as she reached for her other hand.. But a loud buzzing came from the collar on her neck, sending a current through her, her eyes shot back to the blue color.

“No.. No..” Scarlet spoke as the girl let go of her once more, throwing her into the swirl of wind and snow. In a moment, everything stopped, the earth slowed down, the tornado disappeared, causing Scarlet to fall from an unbelieveable hieght, Tony catching her.

Behind the girl stood Cap, the collar in his right hand, her eyes slowly fading to their previous color, she started to fall backwards, soon being caught by Cap, “I got you, I got you.”

Tony set Scarlet down, all of them soon staring at the girl, each one of them shocked. “I’ve identified her.”

“Who is this girl?” Cap looked up at Tony as Jarvis displayed a file of the girl on Tony’s screen, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She went missing from London around 3 years ago.”

“Where is she from?” Cap stated as she stared at the girl, hoping he could soon return her to her proper home. The young girl stirred a little, her eyes slowly coming open as she mumbled a word, “Queens.”

Who is ready for a reunion in part 3????

Tags: @interstellarirwin @purplekitten30 @onceuponateenpanwolfian @marbles-main @saysay125 @thiscuriouslymiss @boringrayofsunshine @peter-pan-hoe @quackson-clackson

Number one//Chibs Telford

Info: Trying to announce to the club that you’re pregnant, but no one will let her finish her sentence. Eventually she just blurts it out.

Warnings: swearing

Originally posted by hauntedduckdefendor

Y/n always watched Chibs with Jax’s kids, it warmed her heart. What made her even happier was knowing she was pregnant and knowing that one day, he’d have his own kid to play with and love. Chibs had one daughter, but she was an ocean away, but having one here with him could be good. Y/n and Chibs hadn’t had much talk about children but she assumed he’d be happy.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You said in a comment on your book that Cinderella Boy was based on your story. Can you tell me what you mean? Like did that stuff happen to you or did you mean a romantic story?

*cue the music from Princess Bride*

Alright kids, settle in…Let Anti-Kris (what my niece calls me) tell you a story…It’s a story of love, of adventure, of personal discovery…It might be long, but I hope it will be worth it.

I’ve known for much of my life that I was not “normal”. When I was a little girl, I hated when people called me a girl, and little boys on the playground often like to say “You are a girl”, to exclude or to discuss, either way. Any time someone said it to me, I felt a kind of rage. When I was five, I told my my mother I never wanted to wear a dress again, and when she tried to put me in one for picture day, I threw such a tantrum that she had to buy me off with ice cream. She never made me wear a dress again.

I had my first crush in first grade, and it was on a girl named Tara. I thought Tara was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She had these turquoise eyes and this soft curly hair in a bob. She had freckles. Freckles for fuck’s sake. And she was tiny and sweet and she smiled at me in an amazing way, and held my hand when we went on Girl Scout trips. In our innocence we did not know what it was, just that it felt wonderful and huge and completely incomprehensible. She told me “I wish you were a boy, so I could kiss you.” And all I remember thinking is, “Why does that matter?” I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach, because if she needed me to be a boy, it meant I’d never get to kiss her.

A few weeks later she left the troop and told me her mother didn’t want us to be friends anymore. Several years later, in sixth grade, I was on a volleyball team, and we traveled to a game nearby. I saw Tara with some of her friends and nearly died. I smiled and waved to her. She gave me a dirty look and walked away. I never knew why. I have my ideas. They all feature social conditioning by her mother…

I was picked on a lot as a kid. I read a lot of books, really mature books. I read “Johnathan Livingston Seagull” when I was four. Crack it open some time. See what that shit is about. I read “Interview with the Vampire” at six. Didn’t really like it, because I found the Christian ideology forced and unnecessary to the narrative. Read all the Sherlock Holmes books by 8. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I felt caged, because whenever I’d try to tell the kids around me that it was fine to be gay, or straight, or whatever I was, any time I made a case for those who were different based on my reading, they would make fun of me for my evidence. Books and knowledge were evil, and I was evil for knowing things they didn’t. For having reached conclusions that did not make sense to them, for identifying as something I couldn’t quite name, I was tormented. If I tried to be masculine, I was beaten up by boys. When I tried to be feminine I was teased to the point of tears by the girls. One of my neighbors, who was popular, came to my house one day with her sister and asked me if I wanted to go on a bike ride. I said yes, because…friends! They helped me cross a plank bridge over a canal. Then they left me there, with my training wheels stuck in the dirt. I had to throw my bike into the canal, wade into it, drag the bike across, and up the soft landslide on the other side. When I came home, I was covered in mud and disgusting muck from the top of my head to the bottom of my bare feet (my shoes stuck in the canal and I couldn’t pull the bike up the other side, So I took them off, thinking any moment, I could die.) and my mother flew into a rage. She walked to the neighbor’s house and confronted the parents. Demanded to know why they had done such a mean and dangerous thing. I never found out the answer. When my mother came back she said she didn’t want to repeat the filth they had said. I intimated it had something to do with me as a person, and so knew that there must be something very wrong with me.

I didn’t talk about myself with anyone after that.

When I was ten, we were involved in a major traffic accident. A drunk woman in a Volkswagen was exiting a parking lot, turning left, while fastening her seat belt. She misjudged her turn, jumped the center divider, and slammed into us head on. My sister wasn’t wearing a seat belt. She flew into the dash. The entire front end of our van was flattened, and the slug bug was like one of those cars you see in semi pileups. As our car rolled past, I looked out the window and saw the entire front of it had been ripped away. The driver was on the opposite side of her car, covered from head to toe in blood. I don’t remember much except screaming “She’s dead! We killed her!” My sister was so badly hurt that my mother had to accompany her in the ambulance. I couldn’t fit. My mother left me in the garden department at Walmart, our car smoking in front of the door. The staff took me inside, sat me at one of the patio furniture displays, gave me some gum. A man came up to me and saw I was shaking. He took off his flannel shirt (this was during the beginning of “Grunge”) and gave it to me to wear. I just remember thinking, “This shirt is soft. I’m very cold. I like this man.” And he sat with me until my mother’s boyfriend could escape work and come pick me up.

That flannel became like a good luck charm for me.

The insurance settlement was for $12,000. It was enough to put a down payment on a house in the city, rather than our farm out in the country. When I found out we were moving from that shitty place, with all its shitty religious white asshole fuckwads, I was so happy, I thought I would die. I told my mother I didn’t want to be “that kid” anymore. I was going to be the kid I wanted to be. I don’t think she knew what I meant, but i told her. I bought baggy jeans, workman’s boots, more flannel shirts. I bought long sleeves and a sports bra and felt amazing. I went to the new school, which had an honors program, unlike my old school, and I told myself I was going to stand my ground and declare myself. I wasn’t sure what I would declare, but god damnit, I was me, and I wasn’t going to be anything but me.

Luckily, what I was, fit nicely into the new group. On the very first day, I made friends. People asked me questions. I told them about my life up to that point, about being picked on, about being mocked, but nothing about how I felt about me. After I finished talking, the two boys I was sitting with said, “You need to meet Ben. You’d like Ben. He’s not here today.”

“Is he sick?”

“No, he skips days to go to college.”

“Yeah, he’s like a genius or something.”

And I thought………. “I have good luck with intelligent people. The smarter they are, the easier they accept me. Maybe I do need to know this kid.”

He appeared two days later. I met him in art class, because it turned out I was at his table. When I met him, it was like the first time I had ever found a boy attractive. Not in the “Ohhhhh damn he’s hawt” way that other people seem to feel, but in the “Wow, he is really smart, and his personality is kicking, and omg he has something behind his eyes that I love.” It was the first time I met someone I felt like I could talk to, not because he was a genius or anything, but because he was smart enough in the right ways.

We dated for a week after knowing each other for a few months, but he dumped me because he “didn’t like my friends” which to me was really weird, because we had all the same friends. But I’ll get back to that.

He vanished a few weeks after dumping me and never came back. One of our friends said he’d gone to college full time. I was really disappointed. Felt like I had been abandoned or missed out on something amazing. But oh well, that’s life.

I was reasonably popular in Junior High, and High school was even better. I had the AP classes and the NJROTC and I was in a bunch of clubs. I had a group of friends and a niche and things to do that allowed me to sort of be in the middle in a way that worked, even if I didn’t tell everyone what I was. But it wasn’t all fun and games.

My mom was married to a conservative minister who is an amazing guy, but at the time was not so down with “alternative lifestyles”, so I was still hostage in my own house. I wasn’t on speaking terms with my biological dad, and had lots of tough feelings with regards to that. And in freshman year, just as I got the lay of the land and found my place…I got sick and lost my eyesight. I’m not going to talk about that here, because I have in a previous post, but it is important to mention, and you’ll see why soon.

When I was 16, I went to a Renaissance fair in my town; it’s kind of a big deal there. I remember wondering if I’d see Ben. I was looking for him, because he was so much a fan of it. I had had a few boyfriends and secret girlfriends since he and I met, but I just didn’t really click with them. I was dating a really amazing boy named Billy, who was really smart, but I still didn’t feel myself with him. Not completely. And we’d been together in a comfortable way for almost two years. Then there was Ben, standing in front of me.

He said, “Hi Kris!”

And I said…”Ben?” Because remember…I’m blind and can’t really see him anymore. Plus he was taller. We talked for a bit. I was kind of stunned I’d actually bumped into him.

Two days later, I got a phone call. It was Ben.

“How did you get my phone number?”

“I never forgot it.”

We talked and talked. I told him about my eyes and how sick I had been. I told him about the problems I was having at home - not about how caged I felt, because I had never told Ben about my sexuality or identity. I still didn’t even have words for that and was deeply ashamed of it. Instead, I framed it all as religious oppression of my personality or my atheism or whatever. I broke up with my boyfriend and we started dating. I’m not gonna lie, it was not great. Ben was a genius, he was dynamic and charismatic, and forceful and arrogant, and a complete jerk when he wanted to be. He wasn’t very grounded, and there was something weird about the way we interacted; I couldn’t quite explain it, but it seemed like he constantly misunderstood me. I’d make an offhand comment about something and suddenly, he’d go silent. I felt like maybe he was seeing my secret. I got defensive. We started bickering, and we broke up.

Then he dated my best friend.

So…I was kind of annoyed. But really, I still thought it had a lot to do with me. I knew I hadn’t been completely honest with him. I hadn’t told him about how I felt inside because I was sure it was bad, or weird. I was pretty sure that if he knew I didn’t feel like I was a girl, he’d mock me or something and I couldn’t handle it. I just couldn’t take that from someone I thought of as kind of a kindred spirit. I knew he wouldn’t love me. How could he? I didn’t love me very much.

I didn’t date anyone else for the rest of high school. I told myself that when I could get out of my house (a not so great environment) I would again become the person I wanted to be and stand my ground, and it would only get better.

I feel like I need to talk a little bit about my home life. I want to make it clear that I get along fine with all my parents now, as they’ve learned and evolved because of the honesty we’ve embraced with each other, but it’s important. My biological dad was a cop and he was also very abusive in a specific way. I was terrified of him. He was the one always saying things about how “Ladies don’t climb trees” but at the same time, he’d always wanted a son, and so I was taught to shoot and climb. It was very contradictory and it scared me. He was also angry all the time and believed in physical punishment. My step dad was a very serious minister. At the time he had some very constrained beliefs about sexuality. Very negative prejudices that he wasn’t shy about vocalizing. He was kind to gay people, but there was definite disgust there and the certainty that gayness was a sin and could be corrected. When I was getting ready to fill out college applications, we were talking about it, and he said “You’re going to go to college and come home with a hole in your face.” He meant a nose piercing, because I’d always wanted one and he forbid it. I said “Oh yeah, dad, I’m gonna dye my hair blue and become a lesbian.” It was ironic, because actually those were my first plans - to dye my hair blue and join the Queer Student Union. He stopped in his tracks and looked me in the face. I will never forget his voice when he said, “If you did that, I’d be very disappointed in you.”

How could I tell him that I’d already had girlfriends? How could I be honest with him or trust him after that?

One night we got a phone call close to 9pm, which was our hard line for phone calls from friends. It was a boy I knew. He wanted to talk to me and said it was an emergency. He was crying. I took the phone into my room. He told me he wanted to kill himself. He didn’t know what he was going to do. His mother was a devout catholic and he knew she would hate him forever. I asked why. I mean why would your own mother hate you? But I could imagine…because well…if my mom knew about me, she’d probably hate me. He changed the subject. Said he wanted to ask me questions. He gave me like, this survey. What would you do if a friend of yours was a, or b or c…or gay? I told him I didn’t care. He told me he was gay.

He wanted to kill himself because he was gay and he thought his mother would hate him. The person who made him. The person who brought him into this world, just as he is. He wanted to die, because she wouldn’t love him.

I was like… I didn’t know what else to do. I had to let him know that he wasn’t alone. I broke my code. I told him some of my secrets, about some of the girls I knew, how I didn’t feel quite right. I told him anything I could think of so that I wouldn’t be hanging up on his life. My mom stuck her head in and told me to get off the phone. I told her it was an emergency. She asked what could possibly be so important. I told her my friend (I didn’t give his name) was telling me he wanted to kill himself because he is gay. I thought it would shut her up. She stared at me.

“Tell him you’re very sorry, but you don’t condone his lifestyle and hang up.”

No. No I will not hang up. No I will not. NO.

No I will not let you tell me that you hate me because of what I am.

There wasn’t anywhere for people like us to go. Our high school gay club had very strict instructions. We weren’t allowed many of the other privileges. We couldn’t have trips. We couldn’t have school resources because we were on the same level as the “Pray around the flag pole” people. And yes…our administration banned gay couples from junior prom. Namely my friend who was a lesbian. Senior prom they were told they weren’t allowed to dance together or take pictures together. It was a tiny kerfuffle, because no one gave a shit. The only kids who cared were people like me, and in those days, it wasn’t the talking point it is now. There wasn’t as much awareness. Queer was still a slur.

There was a boy who was out, a couple years older than me. His name was David. He was a Junior when I was a freshman. He was treated so badly…people calling him names, people spreading all sorts of rumors about him - that he was a gay prostitute, that he was on drugs, that he had AIDS. It was horrifying. I hated it. I hated hiding and feeling unsafe. I really couldn’t take it.

One day, in a home ec class, of all places, I was being sort of sexually harassed by an older kid, someone who was popular and a jock. I told him I was not interested, and I would rather date a woman. He was so surprised that he looked like he was going to vomit. And from there on out I was harassed in a different way - asked all kinds of questions about what I liked about girls, what I would do with them, if I minded being called a “Taco muncher”.

Yeah, I fucking minded, but how could I tell him that? If being a “taco muncher” made me a good anomaly rather than a bad one…if it made me amusing instead of the subject of disgusting slander like the bullshit David endured…I didn’t have a choice. I had to take it.

But I couldn’t take it. One day I nearly knifed this kid. I just exploded at him. I told him that if he made one more fucking comment about my sexuality, I was going to cut off his pecker. I told him I wasn’t a joke. Who I am is not a clown that exists for his amusement. I am not a fucking taco muncher. I like girls, I like guys, I like whatever the fuck I like. I’m not a girl, I’m not a boy. I’m me.

I think I really made an impression. He apologized and never made fun of me or asked me another question.

Anyway, I went to college. I got a hole in my face. I dyed my hair blue. I dated a girl. I joined the Queer Student Union. I did gay things. I went to gay parties. I dressed in black. I listened to loud music. I rebelled in all the best ways, taking care of myself and being responsible, because rebellion wasn’t about doing everything the opposite of the way my parents raised me…it was about being myself for the first time.

Ben and I had another go of it my sophomore year. It was even weirder than the first time, because I felt so awkward trying to be the person I was at college around this kid who’d known my since i was 11. I didn’t know how to talk to him. He told me that whole breaking up with my in Junior High because he “didn’t like my friends” thing was bullshit. He told me that all the times we’d had awkward moments as kids were because he was just trying really hard to figure me out and that he didn’t feel like his upbringing had prepared him to meet me or understand me. He told me he left junior high because of me. That somehow I’d made it clear to him that he needed to stop wasting his time, and just go for it.

That was flattering, but what “it” was, didn’t quite make sense to me.

It didn’t work. I was still too scared. He seemed to like me with an intensity I could not quite deal with because..what if he found out? What if while we were making out I told him I didn’t want to be submissive? What if i told him I like girls? What then?

I went abroad. Living in England, I made a friend named Jaime. She was so fucking cool, like a queer ally of the most laid back sort. On Valentines day, Jaime, my friend Nick, and I were the only ones without dates. We got hella drunk and sat in my dorm room talking about shit. I was so messed up I finally just let fly. I told both of them all the things I’d been wanting to tell someone, that I’d come to think about myself. I talked about all the new things I was hearing people say, like “transgender” “gender fluid”, all that stuff. And then I brought up Ben.

“I never told him. It was the best and most honest relationship I’ve ever had, with the coolest person and like the most potential, and I never fucking told him about this shit. I just let it fail.”

Jaime was sitting on my floor and staring up at me. “Why the fuck?”

“I was too scared! Like what if he hated me? What if he said it was gross?”

“Do you think it’s gross?”

“No. I think it’s me.”

“You said he likes you. So why wouldn’t he like that too?”

“I don’t know Jaime! We grew up in a shitty town and he was a weird kid and I felt like nothing between us made any fucking sense.”

“But you like him?”

“I like……what he promised to be.”

“Don’t you want to know what that ended up being?”

Nick was a quiet kid, a total cis/hetero male, but in the best possible way: kind, friendly, gentle, and just a fun dude to hang with. Never made me or Jaime uncomfortable.

He made a face. “Can I just say…I’ve been listening to all this, and I don’t get anything of what you feel, but that’s fine. You’re you. And I think whatever makes you you is awesome, even if I can’t even imagine ever feeling that way. Like I love girls. I get why other people like girls. They’re fucking fit. So whatever. And if you’re not a girl, or a boy, or whatever…that’s really complicated, and seems like it would be really hard for you, but I’m your friend, and I’d want you to be safe and stuff. What I mean is, if he likes you and you’re his friend, he would feel the same. I mean, maybe he doesn’t love you for it, but that’s fine. If you don’t fit you don’t fit.”

Jamie nodded. “But you can’t judge him till you give him a chance. If you like him enough to try being with him again, then you need to tell him and see what kind of person he is.”

They worked on me for hours. Finally, I made a decision. I wrote a blog post…yeah, blogs existed back then, for about three years, anyway. I wrote out an entire confession of who I am in my gender identity (we didn’t have those words then) and my sexuality. I posted it and I sent a link for it to Ben.

He called me the next day.

I asked him if he read the post and if that was why he was calling. He said yes. He told me to go to the book store, and to buy a book called Imajica, by Clive Barker. He told me to read it and to look for Gentle and Pie’oh’pah. So I did. And I read the book. And I called him back.

Pie’oh’pah is a genderless being, an alien. I can’t really talk about them at all, because it spoils the plot, but Gentle is a main character, a man’s man sort, who ends up becoming completely entwined with Pie’oh’pah. Their romance is the core of the book.

Ben told me that if I was Pie’oh’pah, then he didn’t care. If I wanted to become a man, or stay a female, or whatever, he didn’t care. We wracked up hundreds in phone bills because the free calling stuff didn’t really exist back then. But the main takeaway was this comment:

“If we got married…and you became a man…We could have the marriage license embedded in a ceramic sword…and cut off the heads of the conservative assholes who get in our way.”

Yeah…I like this guy. And it’s a double win, because we happen to be genetically compatible in the creation of children. He’s got the boy bits. I have the girl bits. We made a baby. She’s fucking rad.

But there’s more. When this conversation happened, I was a Junior in college. Ben was already into his doctorate. In genetics. Because he wanted to fix my eyes. And hey…that’s how it had to be done. So he changed his focus. Without telling me. Without me even knowing.

See, he was as scared of me as I was of him. He was just terrified of me, because I was to him, what he was to me - that one person who gets it, and who might see the truth and that is fucking scary - so he ran away. 

It hasn’t all been perfect. We’re both very big people and we both have ambition. We still bicker, but we do it differently. We know each other. All those things we have been through, we know. He doesn’t confine me. He let’s me dress how I want. He thinks I’m sexy when I feel sexy. I think his brain is hot.

What is the point of all of this?

Love is not one thing in one form, like a heart-shaped cookie. It is a super faceted and amazing thing, and it changes depending upon the light that hits it, or how it’s framed. Love is having someone who knows you completely and is totally down with that. They don’t confine you. They want you to be the best you. They want you to succeed however you feel is a healthy success. They’re not competing with you. They’re pushing you to keep moving. Sex is just a thing that happens if you want it to, but it has to make you feel comfortable and strong. Romance is that amazing feeling when you know that person with you wants you to be there, wants to know what you’re thinking, always, and cares about what you care about, because you care about it. There are so many things my husband loves that I don’t really seek out on my own, but I enjoy them through him, and I’m better for it.

Find that.

Sometimes you get lucky, but luck is just a door opening. You have to have the self-awareness, the fortitude, and the ownership to walk through that door. If that door opens…walk through. And if you part ways, part ways. It isn’t a waste of your time. It teaches you who you are. It helps you find something slightly better for you, the next time around. And if you meet someone special, who sticks in your craw and won’t be budged, don’t let that go. Figure it out. Solve the puzzle. The puzzle of you, the puzzle of them. The puzzle of the two of you as a unit.

On the surface, Ben and I look like your typical young cis couple. I’m a girl, he’s a boy. We have a daughter. I mean, I have weird hair as a general rule, but meh…But Ben loves fashion and perfume. He loves shoes and art. He has discerning taste. He listens to the poppiest pop music you have ever heard. He does all the cooking. Me? I have power tools and big boots and I wear a leather jacket. I cuss, I shit-talk. I drink beer and whiskey and he drinks white wine (and yes it makes me fucking angry when my waiter brings me the wine and him the beer). I teach my daughter how to climb trees. He buys her pretty dresses. He reads every word I write and cries like a baby. I edit all his grants and tell him to speak up for himself. He knows what my eyes are doing instinctively and doesn’t need to be asked to read me a menu. I know about the things that enrage him and hold his hand when he’s furious.

You can have that. You can find that. No matter who you are or what form that takes. It will hurt. Everything hurts. If it hurts, it means you care about it, and if you care about it, it’s worth doing. Be strong. Stand your ground. Be you. The person who will love you will love you, not that thing you pretend to be.

That is what Cinderella Boy was meant to be. Me celebrating that. And yes, Carter is Ben, or who Ben would have been if he’d gone to High School. He’s a Kirk. I’m a Picard. Well… I’m like a Picard-Sisco hybrid.

It’s never simple.

soa-brothers  asked:

* Can I request an imagine where your happy's daughter and your just like him and the boys meet you for the first time when you come to the tm on your motorcycle and tig starts flirting with you and eventually you have to leave to go get your girlfriend a nurse that takes e care of grandmother and you go back to the tm to the party later that night with her and to see everyone's reaction to see you dating a girl (also your dad is okay with it and knows about it)

Originally posted by rocknhell

A/N: Hope you like it!

Little Shit:

Paring: Reader X Charming Charter Friendship 

Reader X Father Happy

Warning: Cursing, but I mean this is SOA we’re talkin’ about 🤷🏻‍♀️

The hit wind was blowing through your hair and you steadily rode your beautiful Harley. Nothing in the world felt more perfect than your bike, you and the open road in front of you, unfolding to reveal “Charming” you snicker “Dad, you sure know how to fucking pick em’” you scoffed at you followed your father’s previous directions leading you to Teller-Morrow auto shop. You pulled the breaks on your bike resting her next to your fathers back taking off your helmet shaking your hair around trying to settle your helmet hair before you walked into the bar portion of the auto shop. You said a kid behind the bar, as he turned around you had a feeling this kid was Chucky.

“Yo! Kid? You chucky?” You asked watching the kid tense up before he even turned “Yeah..” he said turning around to face your expressionless face “You seen Happy anywhere?” You asked cigarette between your lips relaxing “Now why would a beautiful girl as yourself be looking for such a mean guy, I’m sure you could use a nice to fulfill your needs.” A guy with electric blue eyes said sliding onto the bar stool next to you “Is that so?” You asked repulsed at the thought that ran through this guy’s mind. “And you might be?” You asked the guy grabbing the beer Chucky had left for you per your father’s request.

“I darlin am Tig, and I’m at your service.” He said holding out his hand “That’s great and all, now let’s make you really helpful.” You said leaning forward as if to tell him a secret “Find me my father. Happy Lowman. Cause I came looking for him.” You said coldly and watched Tigs expression changed once he heard a low throats being cleared behind them, you moved back to see your father moving the toothpick between his mouth.

“Fuck is this?” He asked nodding his head in your direction looking at you “Oh I couldn’t find you, thought if I sent one of your bitch boys you’d come faster.” You said taking the cigarette out of your mouth as you looked at your father “Whoa. Who would this pretty lady be?” You heard another guy with a beer belly say as he slapped Tigs back “Gang, this little shit is my daughter.” Happy said staring at you “Yup, that’s me. The little shit daughter. Oh, Tig you said something about me not being fulfilled earlier, I think I’m pretty full now.” You said no emotion behind your statement.

Tigs eyes went wider that you thought they would just pop out of his eyes “Honey, I honestly doubt that.” He said taking another hit of his beer, looking at the guys then running his eyes over your body once again, but he was cautious about it now that Good Ol’ dad was there. “How’s ma?” Dad said placing his hand on your shoulder “She’s fine, she has the best nurse ever dad.” You said winking at your dad, as he gave you a small smirk “I’m sure she does.” He said lowly.

“So is her nurse your mother or something?” The blonde one said this time “(Y/N) mother was a raving bitch, so no it’s not her.” Your father said causing you to shrug because he wasn’t wrong, but neither of you had to worry about that, Happy wasn’t the father who knew everything but what he did know helped you survived for so long on your own and to take care of your grandmother who you loved dearly.

“I’m Clay, Chibs, Jax, Tig, Bobby, Juice, Korzick, Opie, and the lady right there, that’s my old lady Gemma, she’s one scary bitch. But anyway, got any smiley faces of your own kid?” The old man with gray hair said pointing to everyone around causing you to raise your eyebrow at him accusingly.

“Well Clay. What I got and don’t got ain’t your concern.” You sneered lifting your sleeve revealing a vine with 14 thorns, your father looked down “When I last saw you there was only 10.” He said showing you his smiley collection “And last time I saw you it was only 13.” You said looking at his smirk.

“You seriously are related.” Clay said backing up slowly as Tig moved in closer to see your thorns “You put the name of your victims on the thorns? That’s sick.” He said running his hand over your arm softly “You grabbed his wrist tightly “Don’t. Touch. Them.” You said slowly staring at him harshly, you were very attached to your thorns, they were special to you, not the people obviously but the memory of the killing. Yet after the 13th you’d made a promise to stop.

“Sorry babe, you can let go of my hand now.” He said looking at you “I’m not your fucking babe. You want a babe, croweaters are all over honey.” You said throwing his wrist roughly back to his body. He smirked at you, licking his lips causing you to shudder in disgust “Keep dreaming Tiggy.” You said checking your watch noticing you were late “Fuck. I’m dead.” You said hopping off the bar stool.

“Hey! We’re having a party later! I better see you here!” You father yelled as you raced to your bike throwing up your hand showing him your thumb being up for the party, as you climbed on the bike you rushed out the lot and to your grandmother’s house. The ride was long but you managed to make it just in time where it was near sunset, not that it made it any better.

You parked the motorcycle still seeing her car in the driveway, you opened the door to see your grandmother in the living room “Abuela.” You said kissing her forehead “Mijita, you’re going to get it.” She said laughing.

“(Y/N)! Where the hell have you been! You’re late! Again!” You heard your girlfriend yell from behind you causing you to slowly turn around, walking towards her grabbing her hips “I’m sorry baby, I know I was late but you know I haven’t seen my dad in so long baby, come on, give me a kiss.” You said dipping her gently placing a soft kiss on her lips and as you brought her up your heard a soft awe from your grandmother’s lips.

“Dad invited me to a party, so go change.” You said slapping her ass pushing her softly up the stairs, she groaned and walked up slowly swaying her hips as you watched her, she looked back sending you a wink before she went upstairs to change.

“To think with the person you are, you ended up with that sweet nurse.” You grandmother said smiling, she loved your girlfriend more than anything “I know grandma, it surprises me every damn day I wake up to her.” You said looking at the empty stairs “You and her are exactly what each other needs.” Your grandmother said looking at the TV.

“You’ll be alright with Lucinda, abuela? You promise if anything you’ll call me right?” Your girlfriend said walking past you in a nice blue dress, kissing your grandmother on her forehead “Of course, please have fun and tell your father that I better see him soon.” She said looking at you as you kissed her forehead nodding, you wrapped an arm around your girlfriend “Ready?” You said as she leaned into your body nodding at you. Lucinda walked in as soon as you and your girlfriend were about to hop on your bike wishing you both a good night.

“Hold tight baby.” You said to your girlfriend feeling her tighten her legs and arms around you. The drive back to TM was longer than driving to your grandmother’s house, but once you arrived you noticed the full clubhouse with croweaters and bikers everywhere, a few of them whistling in your girls direction causing you to growl lowly wrapping an arm around her tightly causing her to laugh.

“I love when you get like this baby.” She said whispering to you kissing you as if that would’ve calmed you down, you pulled away not sure if you would be able to focus on tonight “Come on, let’s see my father before I end up taking you to the closet corner.” You growled as you and her made your way through the crowd until you found your father and the rest of the Charming charter. Your girlfriend ran over to your father hugging him tightly as he wrapped an arm around her “You brought my favorite girl.” He said smirking.

“Watch yourself. You may be my father, you may have taught me everything I know, but I will not hesitate to slit your throats where you stand.” You said grabbing your girl pulling her closer to you, your father nodded in approval.

“Your girl?” Clay said with his old lady at his arm “Yeah, hi I’m (Y/G/N), (Y/N) girlfriend.” Your girlfriend said smiling holding out her hand to Clay and in that moment everyone around had their mouths wide open.

“You’re gay?” Tig said eyes wide open mouth “Yup, this dangerous girl right here changed my life.” You said kissing your girlfriend’s neck causing her to swat you away but you’re grabbed her hand to stop her. “Never had a gay couple in Charming.” Jax said bringing the beer to his lips taking a swing.

“And that’s why Charming fucking sucks.” You spit out causing all the boys to laugh “No worries though, that’s why we’re here to spice things up, ain’t that right baby?” You said softly in your girlfriend’s ear as she smiled and nodded turning around giving you that single look that told you everything you need to know.

“Alright, it’s time for us to head out, I’m tired from the drive and want to let Lucinda go home on time tonight.” You said waving to the guys as your girlfriend walked ahead of your dragging you to the door “Oh! Before I forget Abuela said you better take your ass to see her!” You yelled seeing your father raise his beer bottle as a form of ‘Okay’. You were now hopping on your bike with your girlfriend wrapped around you.

“You are dangerous little girl, wanting to leave a party after 5 minutes to be fucked.” You said lowly “(Y/N)! I swear to god! Let’s go!” She yelled causing you to laugh as you darted out of the TM for a more eventful night.


Attention all Psychos (aka fan of the USA series Psych)!! A new reunion movie has just been announced!! In lieu of this development I thought I’d recommend of the whumpy episodes!

Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark (s5 I believe)- Shawn Spencer shot in left shoulder and kidnapped.

Spellingg Bee (s1e2??) -Shawn run of the road by a van while on his motorcycle. Bike flips throwing him off to the side. He suffers some injury to his knee/leg and an injured wrist

Lassie Did a Bad Bad Thing- Shawn punched unconscious by crooked cop, kidnapped, then pistol-whipped.

Let’s Doo-Wop It Again- While singing with an a capella group with his friends, Shawn’s appendix bursts and he collapses on stage. In hospital for the rest of the episode. Nearly killed when baddie ups his (and another character’s) morphine drips attempting to kill them. (Sort of-this was kind of a fake out lol)

Chivalry Is Not Dead…But Someone Is- Shawn “barely” poisoned by the baddie of the week, collapses in front of Gus, shown in the hospital.

Dead Air- Gus pistol whipped (?) (or punched…can’t quite remember).

Lassie Jerky (I think) - Lassie gets shot in the back/shoulder.

Santabarbaratown (I think)- Henry shot in the chest and nearly killed.

The Tao of Gus (I think??)- Shawn and Gus, but mostly Shawn get into some type of altercation at the cult fruit stand and I think Shawn gets a bit beat up? But I can’t really remember lol

– That’s all I can remember right now but there are others.. ENJOY!

Originally posted by detective-hybrid

-_- PS if this is showing as one big blob of text I’m sorry I don’t know why it’s doing that
Unexpected Ride

pairing: Daryl x Reader

fandom: the walking dead

prompt:  You were chased by cops and took me as a hostage but you didn’t realized the cops were after me

warnings: pre-apocalypse

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @is-that-not-something @un-education @bookswillfindyouaway

Sweat ran down your forehead as you ran around the corner and over the street, trying to find a path where cars couldn’t follow you so easily. The sirens kept getting louder in the distance. They were still a bit away, had probably lost sight of you a few times but it wouldn’t stay like that. Getting away from the police successfully was harder than it looked in all the action movies you had seen over the years. Well fuck that you hadn’t bet on getting away anyway.

Halfway across a motorbike stops right in front of you, breaks squeaking as is slithers to a halt. Your first thought was ‘police’ but the man jumps down, takes your arm, drags you over to his bike and throws you onto it before sitting down himself. He hits the gas pedal full force and drives away without further explanation. Not that you wanted one at the moment, you were busy digging your nails into the leather seat to prevent you from falling down.

When you finally leave the city behind you, he slows down and you dare to sit up. Hanging halfway over a way too fast motorbike wasn’t exactly fun even if it looked funny.

After what felt like hours the bike stops at the side of the road and you immediately jump down, the anger that had gathered with time showing itself quite clearly.

“What the hell?!”

No answer. The guy just takes his helmet off, giving you a shrug before turning his attention back to his bike that obviously ran out of gas or he wouldn’t have stopped at all.

“You do that often? Taking people on a ride…forcefully I might add.”

“Not really.”

“Well then could you be a bit more precise as to what the fuck I am doing out here?”

He straightens his back, takes a deep breath and turns around with an annoyed look, “I needed some leverage in case the police caught up.”

You stare at him with a blank expression, really looking at him for the first time today before you start to laugh uncontrollably. It earns you a strange look but you don’t care and ignore it.

“Well buddy I hate to disappoint you but that plan has gone very wrong. I don’t know what you did but those cops were after me.”

His face drops, an expression taking over that’s more than annoyed now.

“Anyway…” You start, walk over and pat him on the back before starting to walk back to the city, “…we better get going, that’s a long ass walk back.”

anonymous asked:

honestly my favorite clay x tony moment was in the garage, when clay is raging and throws his bike around because it's messing up, and then he gets hurt in doing so. and then tony just silently hands him an ice pack and starts fixing his bike like the total gem he is. and when he's done they sit next to each other in silence. like please! that was so cute, im not over it yet.

That was cute!! There was that one moment (you know the one) where I thought they were gonna kiss.


Packing the essential belongings in a backpack. This is your top priority now. Packing and getting the hell out of the Workshop for good. Ever since you figured out you were pregnant you’ve been planning this move and now, almost a week later, you were ready. Of course you thought about not keeping the baby but a part of you suddenly wanted to be a mother.

Telling Francis? Yeah, well, that’s out of the question. He couldn’t find out. Never. The last thing you need is him being around your child. Would he turn the kid into some experiment only to see if he or she inherited his abilities? You aren’t special, you’ve never been a patient here. Not like Francis.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Your entire body froze for a moment and even the shirt you’ve been folding fell out of your hand, right on top of the backpack. He was supposed to be out for the rest of the afternoon, why was he back so soon? This was the first and so far only opportunity you had to escape but he still came back as if he knew what you were planning to do.

“I asked you a question, Y/N,” he said impatiently.

“I know, I heard you.” Very slowly and carefully you turn around and look him in the eye. “And no, I’m not going anywhere. I just hate these clothes so I’ll go and give it to some charity organization or whatever.”

Francis smiles as he closes the gap between you and sneaks an arm around your waist. “You’d better not be planning something stupid like running away,” he whispers coldly, as if you were just one of the experiments.

Well, in a way, you are an experiment. His experiment, not the Workshop’s. You try to make it look like you are perfectly calm, even laughing it off. “Why would I run? Wait, are you telling me there is something to run from?”

“No, there’s nothing,” he says before pulling you into a hug. Sometimes he did things like this; showing signs of tenderness towards you, even kissing the top of your head as if he cared about you. “Are you hungry? I have some time so I thought maybe we should go and eat something.”

“Oh, yes, I’m starving,” reply without missing a beat, this time not even forcing your excitement. You can’t leave tonight, it’s now perfectly clear. You have to wait who knows how long until you can finally give it another shot.


It took you two weeks but now you’re finally free, on your way to be as far from the Workshop as possible. Francis left to meet some client at the airport and, while he was gone, his minions tried to keep everything in order as usual which also gave you the opportunity to leave.

Letting out a sigh of relief you lean the side of your head against the cold window of the bus. It doesn’t even bother you that the old man next to you is currently telling you his entire life story even though you never asked for it.

Several hours later you get off the bus and stretch your arms into the air. It feels so good, so liberating to be so far from him, knowing you can finally begin your own, new life. Sure, you’re going to be a single mother for now but it’s still better than staying with Francis.

Then you hear it; the oh-so-familiar sound of his motorcycle. Somehow you just know it’s not some random bike and your heart immediately starts racing in your chest. You have to run, now, as far as you can. Or maybe it would be enough if you found a crowded place.

Francis stops, gets off his bike and angrily throws his helmet on the pavement as he walks towards you. “Y/N, stop,” he yells, not caring about how much attention he gets from others. But you go on, walking in the opposite direction. “I’m serious, stop right there!”

In the end you realize there’s no point of running from him so you stop and turn around to look at him. “What are you doing here?”

As he laughs and shakes his head, Francis stuffs his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “What do you think, sweetheart? That you can just run away with my child?”

What? No, no, no, there’s no way he knows about it. “What child?” you ask weakly, doing your best to play dumb.

“Come on, I’m not an idiot,” he tells you so calmly that it gives you the chills. “I know perfectly well that you’re pregnant. Is this why you wanted to escape two weeks ago? It’s not nice, Y/N. Why do you want to keep me away from my own blood?”

“Because you’re a monster.”

“I’m not a monster,” he tells you. “I just want to make sure you’re both near me all the time. Even if it means finding you a safe place in the Workshop so you can’t do such stupid things in the future.”

[ Gifs: 1st & 2nd // requested by anon ]

Ways To Say I’m Sorry-Chapter 1

This is the first prompt for #ChloNathWeek2k17. Thanks to @powerdragonmoon for organizing this. 

Chapter [you are here]


Chapter One-Bickering/Flirting

Chloe Bourgeois had a lot of regrets in her life. She regretted leaving Paris during her father’s time of need. She regretted losing the respect of her idol and good friend. She regretted pushing everyone close to her away when she needed them most. But her biggest regret of all was squandering her last Euros on a cheap dye job.

After several long years as mayor, all of her father’s dirty dealings had finally come back to bite him in ass. He was impeached resigned in disgrace and still under investigation with the government.  As soon as the shit hit the fan, Chloe ran off to London with a bag of cash and very little planning. With her lavish spending habits, the money only lasted a month. She soon sold several of her belongings and bought a ticket back to Paris to smooth things over with her father.

Keep reading

Day Two: The Return of Mewberty

There were few things Marco Diaz appreciated less than texts from Janna. For starters, he wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten his number, or how her contact information had mysteriously appeared in his phone. And for every text he received, half were bizarre or unnerving, and the other half were bizarre and unnerving. It was for that reason why, when he’d received a text from her shortly before Karate practice, he’d elected to ignore it for the time being. After all, whatever it was, it could wait until he’d kicked Jeremy Birnbaum’s butt.

Unfortunately for Marco, instead of the normal close-up of a spider or a skeleton, the text had ended up being a mere seven words: “COME TO THE MALL, STAR’S IN TROUBLE”

Huffing and wheezing as he pushed his bike up the last hill, Marco kicked himself again for not checking his phone earlier. Granted, it wasn’t unusual for Star to find herself in some sort of trouble-just the previous week, Marco had been forced to step in after a dire misunderstanding at a hot-dog eating contest. But something about Janna’s text had unnerved him more than usual-that, and the distant sound of sirens and helicopters in the distance.

Finally, Marco reached the top of the hill. Pausing to catch his breath, Marco looked down and saw something strange on the ground. Leaning over, he picked it up and stared.

It was, if he wasn’t mistaken, a tiny purple heart.

Looking back up, Marco was floored at the sight of the Echo Creek Mall in the distance. The shopping center was nearly completely covered in bulbous purple growths, and the entire building was surrounded by emergency vehicles. Above the mall, a half-dozen helicopters circled relentlessly, illuminating the structure with their spotlights.

“STAR!” His fatigue forgotten, Marco hopped back onto his bike and raced down the hill as quickly as he dared. Passing by dozens of stopped vehicles and staring pedestrians, he quickly made his way to the bottom of the valley and made his way to the police cordon at full speed. As he approached, however, a pair of police officers ran towards him, hands in the air.

“Hey! What the heck are you doing, kid?” the first officer shouted, running to block Marco’s path.

Marco quickly slid to a stop, and stood before the two clearly panicked officers. “I have to get in there! There’s something wrong with Star, and I-“

“Oh no, you’re not getting another foot closer.” The second officer said. “This entire area is locked down. And kid, even if you did try to get in there… you wouldn’t come out again, if you know what I’m saying.”

Frustrated, Marco gripped the bridge of his nose. “You don’t understand, I have to get in there! Star’s in trouble, and there’s a good chance I’m the only one who can fix this mess.”

Before either of the officers could respond, the conversation was broken up by the roar of a helicopter passing above. Staring up at the sky, Marco saw the black Police helicopter pass by only a hundred feet above.

Seeing the officers staring upwards as well, Marco knew he had his chance. Throwing his bike aside, he quickly ran past the two shocked officers and slipped past the makeshift barricade in front of him. Running as fast as he could, he slipped over and dodged around a half-dozen parked cars, doing everything in his power to dodge his pursuers.

Then, glancing behind him, he saw the cops hadn’t moved an inch towards him. Instead, they remained behind the barricade, shouting desperately for him to come back.

Looking back towards the mall, Marco was suddenly filled with an intense feeling of foreboding. Slowing down, he gradually began to approach the mall. He was close enough now to see that nearly the entire exterior of the building had been covered in layers of small purple hearts, all clumped together to form warped, pulsating growths.

Marco gulped as memories of Star’s “Mewberty” flashed through his mind. That had been bad enough-but this was completely otherworldly.

Stepping through the first door he could find, Marco found himself on the ground level of a now-abandoned JD Quarter. Discarded bags and clothes covered the floor, and dozens of racks of clothes had been knocked over. Long tendrils of hearts covered the walls and ceiling, and tiny purple flecks gently floated through the air, creating a strange purple haze.

Marco gulped, carefully stepping to avoid the discarded merchandise. For all the chaos, not a single person remained to be seen.

Marco wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Walking out of the clothing store, he gasped as he entered the mall foyer. Dozens of thick purple tendrils reached across the air, and the haze of floating hearts was even thicker here.

“St… Star?” Marco called out hesitantly.

Suddenly, a harsh whisper came from behind him. “Buddy, what the heck are you doing?”

 Marco spun around, his heart racing. Out of nowhere, he spotted a man hiding behind a trash can, desperately trying to stay out of sight. “You keep shouting like that, you’re gonna draw them to us! Get out of here, you nut!”

Throwing up his hands defensively, Marco slowly backed away and began walking deeper into the mall. Constantly glancing back and forth, Marco kept looking and listening for any possible sign of Star-but all he could hear was the echoes of his own feet against the stone floor.

Then, rounding a corner, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.


“Wait! Wait! Don’t leave me!”

Marco, who’d been a half-second from sprinting away, risked a look back. The gun had already lowered, and its owner, a battered and bruised SWAT officer leaning against a concrete pillar, gestured rapidly to Marco to come over.

“What the heck happened to you?” Marco asked nervously.

“We dropped in an hour ago… we were gonna rescue the hostages.” The man whispered rapidly. “But then we got ambushed… they came out of the walls…. We didn’t have a chance, man!”

“Wait, did you see a girl?” Marco asked. “Six arms, wings, probably flying around?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah, she hit us as we came in. Got Eddie, think she dragged him over to the food court. We were in pursuit when those… things showed up!”

“Wait…” Marco said, his heart beginning to race, “What do you mean by those things?”

Without warning, a purple web struck the officer in the chest, and immediately snapped back. Before Marco or the officer could respond, the man was pulled around the corner screaming.


Marco turned around as quickly as he could. “StarraaaaaaHHHH!”

Instead of Star, what stood before him was an insectoid amalgamation of thousands of purple hearts. Perched on six spindly legs, the creature rustled as another gust of air flowed through it.


Leaping instinctively, Marco barely dodged a sudden blast of webbing from the creature’s ‘mouth’. Running for dear life, Marco saw another two creatures burst out from adjacent stores, each one hissing their unearthly cry. Rolling to avoid a shot from the one on his left, Marco leapt up and delivered a solid kick to his closest assailant. The blow sailed right through the creature’s abdomen, exploding it in a shower of fluttering hearts. But, to Marco’s increasing horror, the hearts rapidly began reforming, each one fluttering as the creature emanated its horrific, rustling howl.



Dodging another web attack, Marco ran for the nearest door he could. Swinging past the ruined storefront of a Pointy Picture, Marco spied a fire door and ran through it at full speed. Slamming it shut behind him, his heart leaped in his chest as he felt dual thumps from impacting webs from the other side. But, despite some worrying creaks and groans, the door held.

Creeping down the hallway, Marco tried to reorient himself. He knew he was getting closer to the food court-both from personal experience, and from the fact that the purple haze of hearts was growing thicker by the minute.

Slipping through the back entrance of a SnapEar’s Cow and Cod, Marco gasped as he saw the scene before him. Hundreds of people-men and women-had been tied up and cocooned within the food court, hanging from the walls and ceiling. Nearly every surface was covered in a thick layer of purple hearts, giving the entire space an eerie, organic feeling. It was a scene, Marco reflected, right out of a science-fiction movie.

And, perched on a table in the middle of the room, was Star, in her Mewberty form-all six arms and two gossamer wings of it.

Instinctively, Marco began to stand up to call to her, but then he noticed something was wrong. When Star had gone into Mewberty previously, she’d been two things-utterly silent, and constantly moving. Now, though, she was perched stock still, and, in a shock to Marco, the sound of crying echoed through the room.

And with that, Marco instinctively knew that this time, surviving Mewberty wouldn’t be so easy as waiting it out.

Edging closer as quickly as he dared, Marco slowly made his way into the food court, hiding behind overturned tables and other debris. His mind racing, he looked constantly around the room, trying to find something, anything that could give him an edge.

Then, he spotted it-Star’s cell phone, lying on the floor not ten feet away.

Crawling forward into the open, Marco made his way to the phone as quickly and quietly as he could. Every inch was agonizing-but fortunately, Star didn’t look his way even once. Grabbing the cell phone, Marco immediately rolled back behind a table, allowing himself to finally resume breathing. Flipping the phone over in his hand, he opened it up and stared at the screen.

It was a picture of him.

On a date with Jackie.

“Oh, no.” he breathed.

The crying suddenly stopped. So, for an instant, did Marco’s heartbeat.

Gulping, he stood up and turned around. Without a sound, Star had risen into the air, and her strange, heart-shaped eyes were fixated on Marco. In addition, dozens of heart-creatures had stormed out of vents and from behind debris, each one pointed directly in Marco’s direction.

Dozens of voices rustled at once. “Boooooy-“

Then, Star raised one of her hands, and the chorus ceased instantly.

“Hi… Star.” Marco said, his heart beating loudly in his chest. “It’s, uh, good to see you.”

Star said nothing.

“I, uh, see you’re in Mewberty again! That’s… cool.” Marco faltered.

Star said nothing. Several of the heart-creatures began to inch closer.

Marco closed his eyes, and breathed in deep.

He knew what he had to do.

“Star… I know what this is about.” He said. “I know how you feel, now. And… I’m sorry.”

Star turned her head quizzically.

Marco stepped forward. “You know Star, I spent years and years going after Jackie, a girl I barely knew. A girl that I saw more as an ideal than a person.”

He took another step. “And you were right there beside me, Star. You never stopped pushing me to go out there, to step forward and tell her how I felt. But that whole time… I never stopped to think about how you felt.”

He continued walking forward, until he was a mere foot away from Star. “You’re the coolest person I know, Star. You’re the best friend a guy could have. And…”

Star slowly floated down to the ground, her eyes utterly transfixed on the man in front of her.

Marco took her hand, and smiled. “I love you, Star Butterfly.”

And, without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her.

The entire room exploded in a flurry of wind and purple hearts. As the wind howled around the two, Marco broke the kiss, and held Star in a tight embrace.

And, a second later, he felt two arms around him as well.

Looking up, he saw a stream of purple hearts flicking off Star, revealing her normal self behind them. All around them, the heart-creatures dissolved into nothing, and from the remains of the cocoons a crowd of people slowly emerged, dazed and confused but none the worse for wear.

Star looked up at Marco, her eyes full of tears. “I wanted to tell you for so long, but I tried to bottle it up inside, and… I just couldn’t handle it.”

“It’s not your fault, Star.” Marco replied. “I should’ve known. And I would’ve known, if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in everything else.”

“You can say that again.” Janna said, emerging from the nearest cocoon. “At least you got here before the army showed up.”

Marco glanced nervously in the direction of a staggering SWAT officer. “Uh, yeah! By the way, we should definitely get out of here, right now.”

Together, the three quickly made their way out of the food court, heading straight out of the mall. As they entered the parking lot, dozens of people were running across the parking lot, embracing loved ones and breaking down in tears.

Janna whistled as she watched a news helicopter fly past. “Man, you really did a number on this place, Star.”

Star blushed. “Yeah, well, at least it’s not as bad as when my mom went through Mewberty. Dad said he was trapped in the castle for a week!”

Finally, the trio reached the edge of the parking lot. Janna sighed, and stretched. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’ve gotta get home. Seeya tomorrow, Star.”

Together, Marco and Star watched Janna walk away. A second later, Marco realized that the two were still holding hands.

He blushed. “So, uh, how do you want to get home?”

Star grinned. “Oh, I have an idea.”

Letting go of Marco’s hand, she stepped back, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply. Her cheeks glowed a brilliant white, and before Marco’s eyes a pair of fully-formed Mewberty wings emerged from Star’s back.

Opening her eyes, Star looked back and squeeled happily at the sight. Jumping up and down, she turned to Marco. “Ooooooh I did it! I did it!” Before Marco could react, she grabbed his hand and pulled him tight. “Now, let’s fly!”

And, leaping into the air, the two soared off into the sky, disappearing into the setting sun.

(submitted by aceb133)