the notebook of doom

Inspired by this post and the original designs are here.

The Muse of Doom and the Prince of Time

I was gonna make this really special but then I gave up just after the sketch and just slapped on lines and colors on it because people need to see the dismay of the muse about her godtier’s color.

Swans, Toy Trains and Other Treasures

25 Days Christmas Romance Challenge || Day 4

Character A is desperate to find a particular item (book/toy/etc.) as a present for someone, but it’s been sold out everywhere. Character B helps.

A prequel of sorts to Tea, Vaccines and Other Necessities which I wrote about a year ago also for Christmas :)

Swan, Toy Trains and Other Treasures; ~ 2, 000 words; FF.NET || AO3

“Bloody America!”

Emma groans. Perhaps a bit too loudly, considering the look David throws her way.

She doesn’t care. Emma has been listening to Killian Jones moan and groan and mutter under his breath about “Bloody America” and “centre of commercialism, HA” and “disorganized Yanks” for the last week.

Disorganized? Really, Jones? Really? He’s one to talk.

She is at the end of her tether and yet… If she asks, she shows interest and showing even the barest interest in Killian Jones is what Emma Swan has been solely focused on avoiding since he joined the Creative Department 8 months ago.

But, if those 8 months have thought her anything, it is that she cannot watch Killian Jones struggle. It gnaws at her, bothers her in ways few things do, does something irritating as all hell to her heart strings and generally doesn’t leave her be until he is back to his naturally lost and (not ‘impending doom’ lost) state.

And he sure is good at struggling.

In less than a month Emma was convinced that Jones was a brilliant designer, a royal pain in the ass and the kind of friend that can save your life.

But in less than a week she was convinced that Jones was the most disorganized person she had ever come across and the creature with worst self-preservation skills on the planet.

No, seriously, it was like observing a whole new kind of species. There are only so many times you can watch someone almost staple their hand by accident. How he still has both of those is a mystery to her.

So, knowing her wrist (that particular spot that seems to be a ‘Killian Jones is in trouble button) was going itch all day and probably well into the night again, if she didn’t try to help him, Emma decides to just bite the bullet. Nonchalantly, of course.

“What has the country that took you in and gave you a job done wrong this time, Jones?”

“I’ll have you know, lass, I can go back and get the same job on the other side of the planet.”

Which will probably make her life a lot easier and calmer and quieter and, generally, will suck. But Emma chooses to banter instead of dwell on that thought.

“And yet here you are. So what have we “Yanks” done to offend your Irish sensibilities again?”

“For a country that prides itself on having completely dehumanized and commercialized the Christmas holiday, you sure do make it difficult for a man to do a spot of Christmas shopping,” he sighs, and after a few more angry hits at his keyboard, pushes his chair away from his desk and leans his head back with a groan of defeat.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi, for back to school, can you do more headcannons for the gang as students? Thanks :)

Back-to-school headcanon sale, excellent!  Now you’ve got your pencils, notebooks, sense of impending doom, and the knowledge of what Jehan’s war on math looks like, you’re set for the new year!

Though he won’t admit it to many, Enjolras always takes a lot of time the night before the first day of school deciding on an outfit for the next day.  Even better is if he bought a new outfit.  He doesn’t like feeling vain or overly focused on material things when there are so many more important issues to focus on and so many people that can’t afford the luxury of just getting new clothes for frivolous reason like that, but he can’t bring himself to stop.  When he was little his parents always took him back-to-school shopping and that always included a new outfit and it’s stuck.  He feels like he’s putting on battle armour when he wakes up that first day and is able to put on a carefully chosen outfit, like he’s ready to get all his supplies and head off and kick the world’s ass.  (He told this to Combeferre once on the first day of grade ten.  When they were sitting in the principal’s office.  Because their new History teacher had made a vaguely transphobic remarks and Enjolras had argued it and the teacher had gotten angry and, well, Combeferre couldn’t just leave Enjolras out to dry so he jumped into the fray and it just all escalated until Enjolras was standing on his desk, making an impassioned speech to a bemused, sleepy gaggle of teenagers and finally getting his ass hauled down to the office.  Combeferre gently suggested that perhaps Enjolras should just wear any old thing next year, if this is what it lead to.)

Courfeyrac was one of the first really openly queer kids in their school.  I mean he, along with most other people because he is not a subtle kid, knew he wasn’t straight since middle school at the latest but he never really felt like it was anyone’s business and he was having too much fun being friends with everyone to want to rock the boat too much.  But then he was chatting with Marius one day and Marius admitted that he didn’t think he just liked girls and it was killing him because he felt like it was this awful secret that he couldn’t tell anyone and he didn’t know what to do.  So, on a crusade to make Marius feel better, one lunch Courfeyrac got up on a table in the middle of the quad, the busiest part of the school, threw an enormous armload of rainbow confetti, and screamed “I’M BI, BITCHES!” while Joly and Grantaire stood behind him solemnly waving crudely made bisexual flags.  It was glorious.  All three of them got detention.  Marius never did come out during high school but it made him feel so much better that it didn’t even matter, Courf was thrilled.

Combeferre actually gets in trouble with the teachers more often than Enjolras does.  Mind, when Enjolras does he does so in a big way, but Combeferre is much more consistently in trouble.  “He’s in for the long haul, he knows how to pace himself, bless his deviant little soul,” as Courfeyrac puts it.  The reason for this?  He will not put his fucking book away.  He’s that kid that sits in the back of the room and has some novel or another spread open on his lap and he starts reading it whenever the teacher is getting repetitive, uninteresting, or has gone completely off-topic (non-interesting off-topic that is – Combeferre is the champion at somehow sending the teacher into tangents that last the entire class if they’re interesting).  Seriously, his backpack feels like it’s been filled with bricks because he normally carries at least three back up books with him since he’s more or less come to accept that at least one is probably going to be confiscated before the day’s over.

Joly has on-going anonymous conversations with multiple different people. Whenever he finds some little note scratched into a desk, or written in a library book, or scrawled in a toilet stall he has the compulsive need to respond in some way.  There’s one conversation in the farthest toilet stall of the second floor bathroom that’s went on for almost an entire year, curling all over the walls, before Joly and the mysterious other person who kept responding accidentally ran into each other when they both went to see if their pen pal had responded.  That was how Joly and Bossuet met.  Besides for that, there’s a freshman girl he’s been giving advice to through a loaner math text book, someone in a Shel Silverstein library book who responds entirely through doodles, someone he’s been arguing Star Trek TOS vs Voyager with through notes left under a science lab desk among others.  Musichetta’s getting worried about this strange human collecting.

Bossuet has his very own bed in the nurse’s office.  I mean sure, sometimes it’s used by other people, but if possible she tries to leave it free for him.  It gets the nice striped sheets and has the office’s one-eyed stuffed bear (Stitches) sitting next to it and has a nice view of the window; Bossuet is very partial to it, especially after spending as much time there has he has.  If he’s ever down there and finds it’s filled he just stares at the nurse with this look of complete betrayal and she just has to shrug apologetically and give him a lollipop (a purple one, he always takes the purple ones).  He also always chooses whatever type of “fun” bandage they happen to have that day as opposed the bland “skin tone” option.  If you’re going to give yourself a paper cut that nearly lops your finger off, you have earned a Sailor Moon band-aid, thank you.

Grantaire has mastered the school nap.  It’s actually an art.  A really, really disconcerting art.  He can sleep with his eyes open.  He’s nearly given people heart attacks more than once when they’ve been standing by talking to him only to suddenly hear him snore despite the fact that he’s been making eye contact with them this entire time. Enjolras nearly murdered him once for this – Enjolras had been yelling at him for some remark or another, had been going on for a solid ten minutes, only for Grantaire’s head to slip off his hand and thump on the desk before Enjolras realized he’d been ignored this entire time.  Grantaire was woken up that time by being smacked over the head with The Great Gatsby. He also frequently sleeps through bells (meaning some poor kid that wants to sit in that desk has to prod the strange, sleeping kid awake because most of his teachers have stubbornly given up) as well as sleep standing up – and has been found in many a corner – or tucked in any convenient space.  Jehan once found him in one of the art supply cupboards.  They didn’t wake him up, just covered his face with little painted flowers and insects and closed the cupboard door again.

Bahorel graffitis something on the side of the gym building just before the school year starts.  Every.  Single. Year.  Let it never be said that he is an artistic man, but it’s usually very clear that it’s a comical re-imagining of the faces of various staff members, generally complete with school-wide inside jokes and encouragement for everyone to survive the year.  (Never anything inappropriate because there are wee ones attending the school and he refuses to sully their precious minds, he’s not a monster.)  No one has ever caught him in the act, and no one can technically prove anything but everyone knows it’s him.  Bahorel’s normal school year starts with him going to his homeroom long enough for him get called in attendance before his homeroom adviser nods for him to leave, we all know you’ll be called down in a few seconds, just make sure you find your locker on the way there.  So, sporting a shit-eater’s grin he’ll stroll off down to the office and sit in front of the desk grinning like a little shit while the principal makes a half-hearted effort to get him to confess even though they both know he’s got nothing on him, and then Bahorel’s finally allowed to leave again.  (His masterpiece is usually left up for the first week though, because it does undeniably boost moral – especially the one of vice-principal Javert though he wasn’t particularly pleased with how he was drawn like some sort of dog.) He did finally get nailed at the end of grade twelve though when he did an impromptu piece to ask Feuilly out to prom.

Feuilly helped set up and regularly attends an after-school homework club. It’s for anyone that needs homework help, or wants to give help, or is just stuck hanging around after school waiting for buses or pick-ups and feel like hanging out with a group of students then it’s open.  What with having a pretty unstable home life and not always a very solid support system at home, he’s had some real difficulty with school.  Especially when he was younger and didn’t have much motivation to focus on school, it definitely hindered him.  He has to put a lot of effort into his school work now and has managed to get himself caught up and is even pushing ahead in some subjects because he does love to learn, he just needed to be a circumstance where he could really settle into it.  So this club was to help himself by having a stable, consistent place to work, and to help other people who needed the same, or peer tutoring, or even just the knowledge that they aren’t the only one struggling.  It’s his baby and he loves it (it’s also how Enjolras met Feuilly, he was just so enamoured by the concept and had a bit of a crush on the person who set it up).

Marius always manages to go to the wrong classroom.  Frequently.  Like, not just one the first day (though lord knows he never manages to get to any of his classes both a) on time and b) in the right room) but on various days through out the year.  He always seems to either forget his schedule, or get confused about which bell has gone, or which day it is, or just be flipping through a German textbook and not be thinking about it until he suddenly realizes he needs to be out in the portable, not upstairs in Philosophy.  He’s walked into his math classrooom before lunch instead of after lunch so often that his math teacher doesn’t even look up anymore, just remarks “A little eager, are we, Pontmercy?” and leaves Marius to sprint down the hall to English.

Jehan passionately scorns math class.  Like Grantaire hates math, but Jehan scorns it.  It is a very active antagonism between them and math.  The cold, rigidness of inflexible, unimaginative numbers hurt their soul, according to them. They have told their math teacher this.  Their math teacher told them to sit down and fill in their workpage with actual numbers, not little pictures of crudely drawn, frowning daisies.  In order to protest this disgusting treatment of an artist, for one, and a human being for second (because no human should ever be forced though the torture that is probability in anything but an existential dread sense) they takes to writing his answer completely in long-winded poetry.  Their teacher can’t technically get mad because the answer is there it’s just takes a little bit more work to get to.