hope you guys get it

Brink, 3/?


But this woman was neither mermaid nor Brave, radiant but fierce — and the cool touch of steel to his skin reminded him of the sword she had pointed at his throat.

“My name is Emma Swan,” she said, in answer to the question he had yet to give voice to, “and I’m here for my son.”

Season 2 Canon Divergence; Hook never escaped Neverland, and once the curse breaks Pan comes to collect the loneliest lost boy of them all - the one in possession of the Heart of the Truest Believer.

A/N: chapter three! again, a longer time coming than I’d hoped, but it’s definitely shaped the way I wanted. thanks so much to everyone following this story, I’d love to hear what you thought! 
Rating: T
ao3 || one || two

If Emma had thought the heat would lessen the nearer Neverland drew to dusk, she was sorely mistaken. As the sun crawled across the sky and the pair of them continued to trudge through the jungle, the humidity levels seemed only to increase, making her head feel stuffy and her mood increasingly irritated the farther they walked. To make matters worse, the cacophony of ominous noises only grew louder as the day wore on, and left a lead weight of unease in the pit of her stomach. Her entire life she had only ever lived in cities, the patter and snaps of street rats the closest she’d gotten to wildlife until that goddamn wolf had run her off the road at the edge of Storybrooke so many months ago. Here, though, the forest had a life of its own. It practically chattered, anything from the muted and melodious to the sharp screeches of creatures she hoped were prowling miles away from where they were.

The entire island hummed with energy — with magic, although it still chagrined her to admit it. A modicum of the courage she usually took from her firm grasp of the hilt of David’s sword had slipped away with the dancing orange of early sunset across the sky, the weight of it finally beginning to settle and make her arms ache from the effort of keeping it aloft. Hook, irritatingly adapted to the island, carried his in a handy scabbard at his side. In her rush to get to Neverland, Emma hadn’t thought to bring one herself.

The only mercy was that for the last hour or so, Hook had grown silent. On the few occasions she had stolen a sideways glance at him he appeared deep in thought, dark eyes scouring the jungle shrewd and alert. Like an animal ready to pounce at any moment. Although their tentative peace lay between them, it still set her on edge to see him like that. His hook gleamed awfully at his side.

After forming their cautious alliance, he had suggested they return to his ship to regroup and find out if his crew had made any recent observations of Pan’s newest recruits. Emma had refused — she’d already lost most of the day, and she couldn’t think of a worse idea than following Hook into what, for all she knew, could be little more than a lion’s den. Her decision had irritated him, but he’d agreed to show her the last place Pan and his troop had been sighted. So far, it was the best lead they had.

“So,” Hook began loudly, snapping the silence between them like loosening an arrow. Apparently, her time for small mercies was up. “Tell me about this magic you possess. How did you come to be in Neverland?” His choice of conversation topic didn’t exactly thrill her, especially since she’d straight up lied to him about having an exit strategy sorted out. Jefferson’s hat had disappeared with Regina, and fuck knew where she was now. “A magic bean, perhaps?”

“A what?” Emma couldn’t hold back her snort of laughter, the suggestion so outlandish to her she figured he must have been joking. Hook only stared back at her evenly, eyebrow arched and looking far less amused. She supposed in a world with magic, something as crazy as a magic bean wasn’t so crazy at all. “No, not a — a bean,” she continued. “It’s a hat, it makes this, uh, purple vortex… thing,” she swallowed as Hook’s eyebrow inched closer to his hairline, “and you jump through.”

Hook left her sentence to mince in the air for long enough for her ears to redden, before merely turning his eyes skyward.

“You’re right, that’s far less ludicrous than a magic bean.”

Emma grimaced. “Shut up.”

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“i’d finally broken through to something real.
about my life and what i should be trying to do with it.

this wasn’t requested, but i just wanted to make it. i hope that’s cool with you guys. i’ll get to your requests, i promise. but at the time of queueing this, i have a documentary project, an animation arts project, and a sciences test to study for so, that’s gonna have to take priority for now. i’ll write theories if i have time later.

if you have any more requests, for aesthetics or theories, then feel free to send me an ask or a message!

xoxo, v

okay so there are a lot of super specific asks for fics that i cannot for the life of me find, so just fair warning, im going to spam post about 6 of them just to get a few out. hope you guys dont mind and if you know of them don’t hesitate to let us know!

fighting fish


NEW VIDEO: “Backstage with Hillary Clinton- what a dream. she was kind, present, warm, attentive, and so much fun while filming together. reblog if you love it! get involved here: http://hillaryclinton.com/start or text “PLAN” to 47246 to find out where your polling place is <3

long mornings and longer thoughts

anonymous asked:


IT IS OFFICIALLY MY SEMESTER BREAK!!!!!! ajfhdajkhfdajh this is the best prompt EVER let me have this self-indulgent headcanon

  • the foxes, because they like a.) challenges and b.) making money out of these challenges, get the idea to play Andreil Trope Bingo
  • nicky starts it, purely out of boredom, as well as out of the desire to spite kevin for being too exy-focused even if the season’s over
  • he creates a card with things like “andrew buying food for neil” “neil smiling behind andrew’s back” “one talking about the other when the other is not there” “andrew hurting someone for neil” “rooftop date” “andreil going late to practice together”
  • after the whole team making edits to the bingo card, a copy is given to everyone
  • word gets around, but as andrew and neil are two of the most oblivious people in the world, they don’t catch wind of it
  • eventually, everybody (including wymack and bee) gets in on it, because the pot rises to be two grand (can you guys believe? two fucking grand for a couple’s trope bingo)
  • they make it a race of sorts - as andrew and neil aren’t normally affectionate in public (neil being the more touchy of the two, but still severely lacking in comparison to the stereotype of Normal Couples), they all have to be there at certain times of the day
  • dan clearly established the “no fishing rule” at the start but some of them can’t help themselves - they’re just really lucky sometimes
  • renee is the first to check “andrew wearing one of neil’s shirts” after she notices at their weekly sparring session
  • aaron (unluckily enough) gets the first shot at “andreil making out by the lockers” after his shift to tidy up the court
  • nicky is first witness at “one being lowkey possessive over the other” when he catches a glimpse of andrew frowning down someone at the bar for checking out neil
  • at the end of it all, they’re all left with one box blank
  • “andrew calling neil cute”
  • and everybody is just ??????
  • because andrew would never do that. not in a million years
  • only neil seems like the type to do so - but even neil hasn’t said anything of the sort
  • everybody’s panicking because they’re all so close yet so far away
  • fast forward; it’s been a little over a month since everyone’s only got that last box blank, and they’ve all been fishing
  • matt has asked, on multiple occasions, what andrew thought of neil when he smiled
  • allison has pointed out how good neil looked when she gave him her last haircut
  • bee even got ahold of neil’s baby pictures and showed them to andrew on a visit of his
  • wymack, at some point, tried asking if “cute” was really the specific word they all needed to hear (”What if he says ‘adorable’? You know Minyard gets all wordy at some point.”)
  • they all flail around for another week until the foxes’ weekly movie night
  • it happens on a thursday at neil and andrew’s room, because it was their turn
  • everyone is seated around the television, either on armchairs, the sofa, or on beanbags
  • neil coughs and pounds his chest
  • andrew gets up from the sofa so fast and gets neil a glass of water
  • upon getting the glass, neil goes “Ah.That was just a test. Thanks for putting in the effort.”
  • neil is smirking and all, thinking he’s so clever, the cheeky bastard
  • and no one is prepared for andrew’s “Mmm. That’s cute. Move over.”
  • everybody is suddenly scrambling for their cards in their pockets
  • nicky is like “Shit shit shit shit shit shit–”
  • kevin frustratingly goes “Where the fuck is my pen–”
  • bee is like “That’s unfair, I didn’t bring my card!”
  • it’s dan-the-legend-wilds that gets to cross out the box first and she yells (half-drunkenly) “BingobingobingobingoBINGO MOTHERFUCKERS!!”
  • matt’s like “Babe we’re going halfsies on that right–” while allison yells “THAT”S GOING INTO OUR NAIL POLISH FUND!”
  • wymack is in the moment and is like “Dan, you’re sharing with me, or you’re out of the fucking team.”
  • renee is groaning and shaking her head while aaron is just shrugging and texting katelyn he lost
  • in the midst of the chaos and debating-who-got-it-first is andrew and neil, clueless as fuck, staring at them all and at one another
  • neil is blinking in confusion while andrew is stony-faced
  • they go out of the room and leave the madness that is the foxes coming up with another bet and searching for money in their wallets

Claudia and Stiles, June 1998.

Here’s another sneak peek for the final chappy of Home, which I’m aiming to post in June (60 drawings + Lupus = Julie needs extra time) but now it’s 42 paintings down, 18 to go!! Thanks for your unending patience ♥


Sleight of Hand

They’re still staring each other down when the others shuffle into the room, a collective groan going up at the sight of them at each other’s throats once more.

“So,” Raven starts, conversational, “how do we think Clarke is going to murder Bellamy? Discuss.”

“Knife to the gut?” Miller muses, tapping a finger against his chin. “She’d want to draw it out.”

“She’ll push him off a high-rise.” Monty nods. “Messy, but satisfying.”

“I have it on good authority that she’ll disembowel him with nothing but a spoon and sheer willpower,” Clarke cuts in, dry, “but that’s just me.”

“You know, if you really wanted to get up close and personal with my body, all you had to do was ask.” Bellamy remarks, lips curling into a satisfied smirk when that pulls a scowl out of her.

Notorious criminal prodigy Bellamy Blake has been tasked with a seemingly impossible heist. Luckily enough, he just might have the right crew for it.

Read on AO3.