Hey everybody! Badficniverse will be two years old on Monday!! And to celebrate I will be doing an AMA (Ask me about…) for the blog and all the mods. So basically please send us questions over the weekend about what you want to know about the blog and I’ll post all the answers on Monday! Thanks again to everybody who has followed us for two years! We couldn’t have been here without you!
Also for those interested, the next stream will be on the 19th! The theme will be anime! Is there an anime you want to nominate as a choice for the stream? Then hit us up for your nomination!
Summary- After moving away, you return to Derry, Maine, and reunite with your old friends.
A/n; This came to me and I would’ve been mad if I didn’t write it so enjoy x
Requested; Nope, just an idea I had!
6 years ago…
“Shit!” “Richie! That’s a bad word!” 7-year-old you scolded. “Y-yeah Richie!” A young Bill frowned. “LALALA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Eddie cried, hands clamped over his ears dramatically. “Ugh, you all suck!” Richie cried, pouting. “You love us.” You winked, Richie opening his mouth to protest. “Yeah, we’re the only ones who actually don’t mind you.” Stan chimed in, making Richie pout even more. “Group hug!” You cried, squishing your friends in a group hug. Everything was great. Until you got home that day, when your parents suddenly had you pack up everything, very rushed, and leave the town the next morning.
You didn’t even get to say goodbye to your best friends.
Little did you know how much it hurt them to visit your house, and see it abandoned. They asked around town, and everyone simply said you had to go away. It was confusing for the 7 year old group of boys, and it broke their hearts to see one of their best friends go. Over the years, they made a silent agreement that they wouldn’t bring you up; the memories hurt them too much.
A lot had changed since that day. You’d grown out your hair; it used to be boy-cut (to match with the boys, you felt left out), now it fell past your shoulders, in loose Y/H/C curls. You wore makeup these days, even though you were only 13. You grew up in NYC, where you learned to fend for yourself and you didn’t take shit from anyone. You’d gained much more confidence; going from the little, innocent girl from down the road to the baddest bitch in town.
Now, driving past the sign ‘Welcome to Derry, Maine’, that confidence began to slip. You were nervous about coming home; it was no secret. You didn’t really want to come back, if you were being honest. You’d just moved on, forgotten the feeling to miss all your best friends, and made new ones. You finally felt at home in New York, after 6 years, and just your luck, your parents decided it was time to go back. You never did know why you moved, but you never really thought about it.
Now, as you saw the many buildings you used to bike past with your friends, you gulped. Your friends. You wondered how they were. You lost contact as soon as you left, and you hadn’t spoken to any of them since. It hurt, they were all like your brothers. Were they still friends? Would they even recognize you? 6 years was a long time, and not only your appearance, but your personality had changed drastically.
You were excited to see them; you hoped they were all still here, and still friends. Another feeling was locked in your mind, though; what if they didn’t remember you? You remembered all of them vividly; Eddie, the nervous boy with the inhaler, and the crazy mother, Richie, the boy who never shut up and had a potty mouth (as 7-year-old you recalled), Bill, the stuttering leader of your friends group, and Stanley; the smart brainiac who drove you all mad, but you loved him. You loved all of them. You missed all of them. You could only hope they missed you too.
Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath as a wave of nostalgia filled you. Your parents never sold your house; again, another thing you didn’t bother questioning. You had asked time and time again while in New York to come back to visit, and now you were here, and ready to leave again. You glanced down the road, knowing Bill’s house was down the block. If he still lived there, anyway.
“Mother?” You asked, nervously. “Yes, you can go.” She immediately said, waving you off. “Bike?” She questioned, and you shook your head. “No thank you!” You called, running down the road. It felt odd, you never really rode it in New York. Not only was there nowhere to ride it, it just felt unusual, because you weren’t with the boys. Sighing, you went for a walk around town, taking in your old home.
Beverly was walking along the streets, smiling happily. She’d just been invited to the Quarry with the ‘Loser’s Club’ and she couldn’t have been happier. Not paying attention, she walked right into someone, slamming into them. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” She said, helping the girl up. Confusedly, she looked the girl up and down. “Have we met before?” She frowned, the girl looked so familiar, yet so different.
“Oh my god.. Y/N L/N?!” Beverly exclaimed, shocked. You looked up, having been knocked over. Your jaw dropped. “Beverly Marsh!?” You gasped, jumping up. You two were quite close while you were younger, (obviously, not as close as you and the boys, but still close) and to say you both changed was an understatement. You tackled her into a hug, her quick to return it. “How have you been?!” Bev exclaimed, and you two chatted for a bit.
“Hey, have you seen the boys yet?” Bev asked, frowning slightly. You told her about what happened; you leaving abruptly, without saying goodbye. “N-no.” You stuttered, “They don’t even know i’m back.” Beverly pondered this for a second, before lighting up like a christmas tree. “Well, tomorrow the boys and I are going to the Quarry, why don’t you come with?! We can surprise them!” She exclaimed, and you thought about it, biting your lip. “Sure, why not?” You said, calmly, but your heart was racing. “Awesome, see you tomorrow!” She said, walking off. “Haha.. yeah, see ya..” You said, nervously. You returned back to your house, and the rest of the day flew by, as you anxiously awaited for tomorrow to come.
You got dressed normally, simple undergarments and a nice dress. You didn’t really style your hair, brushing it out and leaving it down. You smiled as you biked to where Bev told you to meet her. She was already there, and her hair, which was long like yours yesterday, was cut very short. “I like your hair!” You complimented, and she blushed slightly. “Thanks.” The two of you biked up the hill, where all the boys were stood there, shirtless, and ready to jump. Well, they were dressed to jump. They all looked nervous as hell. There was another boy you didn’t recognize; maybe he’d joined onto the group after you left. You were just happy they were all still friends; it was one of your biggest worries returning here.
“Who’s gonna go first?” One of them said, you didn’t catch who. “I’ll go, Sissies!” Beverly called, catching the group’s attention. She quickly stripped off her dress, you following suit. The boys seemed confused, but you didn’t give them time to process it. “Come on, Y/N!” She screamed, grabbing your arm and you both together ran and jumped off the cliff. “What the fuck!?” You assumed Richie called.
Eddie turned to the guys, confused. “Did she say.. Y/N?” He asked, quietly. The loser’s, except Ben, tensed, looking to Eddie slowly. “No, Ed, it couldn’t be..” Stan whispered, looking down at you and Beverly, who were watching them impatiently. “Come on, guys!” You called, waving them down. Richie gulped. “Holy shit.. It is Y/N.” “Whose Y/N?” Ben asked, confused as hell. “A-An old f-friend.” Bill stuttered, shocked. “Seriously, are you coming?!” Bev called, confused. The boys all took a last glance, before jumping off the cliff, screaming and kicking their legs wildly.
You swam over to them, shyly, as they all settled. “So, uh, surprise?” You asked, scared. The boys all glanced at each other, and you sighed. “Look, I can explain-” You started, but Richie cut you off. “No, Y/N! What the hell? You fucking left us! You didn’t even tell us you were leaving!” The group fell silent, you gulping. “I-I didn’t know..” You whispered, knowing you deserved it.
“W-W-What d-do you m-mean y-you didn’t k-know?” Bill asked, confused. “That night we were out, all of a sudden, my parents said we’re going to New York, and to pack everything I owned. We just up and left. I begged and begged to say goodbye. It was like they couldn’t hear me, or they just ignored me.” You said, sadly. They all remained quiet, before Stanley swam over to you, giving you a much-needed hug.
You gladly hugged back, and one by one, the boys swam over, giving you hugs and saying how much they missed you. You were introduced to Ben, who you got along great with. “You know how we got picked on a lot, Y/N?” Stanley asked, as you all were relaxing in the water. “Yeah?” You asked, confused. “W-We gave ourselves a n-name.” Ben added, looking to Eddie. “Welcome back to the Loser’s Club, Y/N.”
So Sean did an interview a while back and they said this at some point:
“He’s worth €2.500.000, not bad for 27-year-old potty mouth!”
Am I the only one that didn’t like that statement? Like, not bad for a potty mouth?
This is in the video so Sean didn’t actually have a problem with that I think. I mean, he has to agree first, right? I know they said it because he swears a lot but I found it kinda offensive, again I mean for HIM and that is just my opinion.
Because these people can’t see the other side of his YouTube career. It’s not always about the money and he doesn’t earn them because he swears all the time. He actually helps people, even if he swears he makes them laugh and that’s what matters, he puts a smile in so many people’s faces.
That’s why I think that statement was a lil “random” I should say.
The thing that kind of rubbed me the wrong way, was the saying “Not bad for a 27 year old potty mouth”
There are tons of words that I can describe Seán with:
Should I continue?!
The words “27 year old potty mouth” isn’t one of those words!
I understand if people only see videos of Jack like this
where he is highly energetic, screaming his head off and cursing! they would see Jack as a “potty mouth” (I really dislike using that phrase)
If people watch videos like this
Where Jack takes time to read our lovely comments, and in hoping so, he would let us spread more happiness and positivity in the community! Unlike most communities, we actually support each other, not tear each other down! Jack doesn’t tell us to “MAKE THIS PERSON HAPPY” we do it out of our free will, and it also feels so good to make someone’s day :)
“Mommy, mommy!” I heard as I stirred out of my sleep. I felt little fingers nudging me.
“Hmm?” I rubbed my eyes open to see it was still dark and my daughter Aiko was in front of me. She’s 3.
“Mama, I made a mistake,” I saw her frown as she played with her little fingers. She was so articulate for a three year old. I will give Dwayne credit for that.
“What did you do, baby?” I sighed as I sat up. I looked at the clock and it was 3:42 am. I looked to my right to see Dwayne fast asleep.
“Umm.. umm..” She couldn’t seem to find the right words.
“Come on, sweetheart, spit it out,” I looked at her, my eyebrows furrowed.
“The bed. It’s wet,” she frowned.
I sighed. She peed the bed. She’s been potty trained for a year but sometimes she has little mistakes. “Okay. Come on,” I got out the bed carefully.
“Shhh, momma, don’t wake up Daddy or DJ,” she said as she wobbled her way to the door in front of me.
I giggled as I shook my head, “I won’t wake up Daddy or DJ.”
DJ is my son. He’s 5 years old, named after his father.
I walked to the kitchen and Aiko noticed. She quickly ran behind me. I gathered baking soda, a spray bottle of water & vinegar, a little bit of detergent, and a rag.
I get into her room and I remove her sheets, before spraying the wet spot of the mattress with the spray bottle solution and putting some baking soda on the spot too. I scrubbed the spot with the rag.
“Now, did you use the bathroom before bed?” I looked at Aiko.
“Umm..” she looked down, “I forgot. I was sleepy.”
“That excuse will work this time. Next time it won’t. Use the bathroom before you go to bed, okay?”
“Well, can you help me remember?” She looked up hopeful.
I laughed, “Yes. I’ll remind you before bed, okay?”
“Okay,” she smiled.
After finishing with her bed, I decided to let it air dry. “Your beds gonna be a little wet, so how about you come sleep with me and Daddy?”
“Okay,” she ran excitedly to me and Dwayne’s bedroom. She’s such a daddy’s girl, and loves whenever she sleeps with us because then she’s able to cuddle up to Dwayne.
I laughed, shaking my head. By the time I got to the bed, she was already cuddled up to Dwayne and he had his arm around her. I smiled as I laid next to them. I would’ve never imagined myself here, but yet here I am.
I can’t believe it’s been six years since I moved to Tokyo, in this 3 bedroom apartment. I know, right? Whitley Gilbert living in an apartment? But I love it. I love us.
“Dr. Reese, your next patient is ready,” my nurse, Wanda, said to me while handing me my patient’s file.
“Oh,” I look at the file, “Adams, got it. Tell her I’ll be with her in 5 minutes please.”
“Okay,” Wanda walked off.
I returned my attention back to the phone, “Spencer, I really shouldn’t on the phone right now.”
“Yes, yes. But I miss you, you know?”
I blushed, “I miss you too, baby, but I have a patient who’s ready for me.”
“Is it critical?”
“No. Just a routine yearly check up. She’s in her 40’s.”
“Well, if it’s not critical, she can wait another 10 minutes.”
“Ten?! Come on, honey. I can see you when we both get home tonight. And how is the hospital not complaining about one of their surgeons playing on the phone?”
He chuckles, “Ever heard of a break? Surgeons get breaks, too. I have about 30 minutes left.”
“Yea, well my break isn’t for another two hours. I love you, okay? I gotta go.”
He sighs, “You owe me then. Tonight when you get home.”
I laughed, “Yes, I owe you.”
“And I love you more, Kimberly Reese-Boyer.”
I smiled, “Okay, babe. I’ll see you tonight.”
I hung up. I looked at my wedding ring and smiled. Three years after Whitley had moved, me and Spencer were finally established enough to get married. The wedding of my dreams, too. At a church, with my closest people at my side. Whitley, Dwayne, & DJ flew all the way back from Japan to be apart of it. And although Whitley was 7 months pregnant with Aiko, she didn’t let that stop her from wearing that maid of honor dress. And best of all, I married the man of my dreams.
This man is loyal to me, in love with me, and will never in his wildest dreams, hurt me. Something that I was scared I may never have. But I got it.
Freddie. Freddie, Freddie, Freddie. This woman triggers me to a whole new level.
“Can you please explain to me why you’re being so difficult about this?” I looked at her. We were sitting on my couch, while our daughter, Luna, watched a movie in her room.
“Because. I don’t need my daughter around Micaela. Her home is broken enough, she doesn’t need to be around daddy’s new piece of meat,” she rolled her eyes.
“Piece of meat?! She’s my girlfriend. Don’t degrade her like that. Secondly, her and Micaela have a great relationship. You’re really limiting the amount of times I get to see my daughter because of my relationship?”
“Yes,” Freddie stared blankly at me.
“And here you are with the peace-maker bullshit persona, but yet look at you now. She has her own room here, her own clothes here, there’s never not any food. She’s taken care of. I don’t want to go to court with you about this.”
She looked away for a second.
“Honestly, is this about you not wanting Luna in an ‘even more broken home’ or is this about me moving on?”
She stays silent.
“Fine! I don’t want her around Micaela because I am hurt, Ron. I risked friendships to be with you! I risked people looking at me different because I loved you! I had a child with you. And this is where it ends up?!”
“Freddie, you didn’t have to risk your friendships for me. You could’ve decided to be a real friend and suppress all feelings for me, but you couldn’t, because you were selfish! Hell, I was selfish, but at least I changed! Look at you. Same old Freddie from six years ago.”
She scoffed, “I’m leaving. You drop Luna off by tomorrow night,” she grabbed her purse and got up.
“There you go again. You play victim and once that doesn’t work, you run away.”
“Bye, Ron,” she walked out of my house.
I sighed, plopping myself into my couch. I can’t wait to tell Dwayne about this one.
Okay, I’ve been seeing sooooo much stuff going around about this interview. While I don’t know what Jack’s take on it is, I was disappointed that the media only chose to show the money and swearing side of things. Jack obviously showed his true humble self in the interview, but the media didn’t focus on that. True, the dude was just doing his job, building a story that he knew people would watch, but there were better ways to go about that than to basically say that Jack is rich and he swears all the time.
He is so much more than that. He is CARING and PASSIONATE and KIND and HUMBLE and COMPASSIONATE and FUNNY and GENUINE and INSPIRATIONAL. He also has an amazing community, who care about and love each other. He interacts with the community often, and always thanks us for what we do.
No, I don’t see Jack as a 27 year old potty mouth worth 2.5 million euro. I see a guy who has saved lives, loves his community, and is passionate about what he does. Thank you for being you Jack. <3 @therealjacksepticeye
i’m very fucking angry at the incompetence of these people that bought a dog from us, im so angry i feel like i’m going to throw up, i want to go home but i work until 5 and i’m trying so hard not to cry.
Summary: A collection of extra glimpses into Emma and Killian’s future from the “I belong to you, you belong to me” universe, featuring Ian, Jackie, and Evelyn “Evie” Jones.
A/N: I discovered that writing the little bits from the future is probably my favorite part of working on “I belong to you, you belong to me”. This is where I’m going to put all the extra scenes that won’t fit reasonably into the story.
It was a cool night in early October, and Emma went to bed
with the windows open. The sighing of the wind through the trees lulled her to
sleep. She felt as if she’d barely closed her eyes, however, when she was awoken
by the mattress dipping behind her as extra weight was added to it. Her first
thought was that Killian had returned from The Crow’s Nest, but then a small
hand brushed her back, and a quiet “Momma,”
was whispered in her ear.
this happened to me a long time ago. I was like… 6? 7? I was in first grade.
one day, I’m sitting in class, learning the alphabet. Or how to write in
cursive. Something like that. But as I’m sitting there at my little desk, I
realize that my feet are really uncomfortable. It was my socks, man. Everything
about them seemed specifically designed to make me suffer. They were tight.
They were scratchy, like wool and stiff cotton had a lovechild and slipped it
on my tiny fucking feet. And they were crew cut, so it was a pretty wide,
high-impact zone of child suffering.
I’m trying to pay attention, trying to remember that triangles have three sides
and all that, but I just can’t… concentrate. My socks. My socks, man. They’re
I decide to take action. Without taking my eyes off of the teacher even once, I
bring my feet up one at a time, take off my shoes, and yank those cotton
torture tubes off. Liberation came with a rush of relief. I quickly stuffed my
feet back in my Hush Puppies and shoved my balled-up socks in my desk.
might have told my mom that I hated the socks and asked her to buy new ones. But
she must not have, because my socks just keep on bothering me in class. But
that’s okay. Because now I know the solution to my problem. I came up with it
all on my own. Fucking child prodigy, right here. It’s easy. Pretend to pay
attention to the lecture about addition and subtraction, take off my shoes, rip
off my socks, jam the socks in the desk.
one day, my teacher announces to the class that she’s going to do a desk
inspection. And immediately I know my time has come. I have been sneaking my
socks off of my feet and into my desk for literally WEEKS. And I’m like 6 years
old, so I could never be bothered to try and smuggle the socks into my backpack
to bring home. Writing this now, I don’t think my mom ever noticed that socks
were going missing at an alarmingly steady rate. I must have had a lot of
my teacher must have been a sadist who enjoyed watching kids squirm in their
humiliation, because if she checked a desk and it was messy, she would dump its
contents right out on the floor. The child would have to clean up their desk as
their classmates laughed at their misfortune.
I’m shitting my pants (figurately speaking… I was a potty-trained six-year-old)
with fear here. The teacher’s on to me. Stick a fork in me, because my goose is
fucking cooked. I’m shuffling things around in my desk, trying to clean things
up. Messy papers and broken pencils and socks.
Socks, man. Too many goddamned socks. My teacher is going to see them. She’s
going to see them and she’s going to tip over my desk and I will have to move
to fucking Florida to escape my shame.
teacher gets over to my desk and peeks inside. “Oh! Looks like Miranda’s desk
is going over!” she says.
have only been a few moments in my life where I was so stressed and terrified
that time seemed to slow… D\down. This was one of those moments.
teacher tips my desk over. My mess starts to slide out. The papers. The
pencils. The socks.
stuff my arms into the desk to try and stop the outpouring of filth, and I
swear to god, Anon, I screamed, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
puny child arms are not strong enough to keep the shit in my desk from spilling
out. It lands in a pile at my feet.
room is silent. A piece of chalk rolls out of my desk and plinks against the
that a sock?”
(No. It’s a metric fuck-ton of socks.)
classmates start giggling and whispering to each other about what a fucking
weirdo I am. My teacher looks horrified. Like I had a bunch of dead frogs in my
desk instead of socks.
she loses it.
really tears into me about how unacceptable this is and how she’s going to call
my parents. At this point, I’m bawling my eyes out, the way I bawled my eyes
out when I read the ending of Flowers for
Algernon for the first time. Everyone is laughing at me. I was always a
strange kid. I didn’t have that many friends. But this incident definitely wasn’t
doing me any favors for making new ones.
don’t really remember what happens after that, to be honest. I know the teacher
uses the phone in our classroom to call someone while I’m sobbing on my hands
and knees on the floor, surrounded by notebook paper and socks. Another teacher
sticks her head in and seems equally scandalized.
don’t get in trouble with my parents when I go home. I think they were just…
confused? Like… Miranda??? Why did you do that????
don’t get what was so hard for everyone to understand. My socks were just
really fucking uncomfortable.
So has anyone else noticed the urge to announce that you gotta pee when you need to? Where did this come from? I’m an eighteen year old girl. I should not have this urge. Is this left over from the potty training years? Have we all been trained to announce the need to pee? Have our parents brainwashed us? Someone tell me! It’s not just me right? Other people get this urge too right??