thirteen year old brother

Halloween Pidge Headcanons

-Pidge is one of those people who wholeheartedly believes that the entirety of September, from the very second August ends, is Halloween Eve

-She has halloween-themed clothes at home

-Carving pumpkins was always a massive family tradition before the Kerberos mission, complete with the Holts throwing pumpkin guts at one another

-”Trick-or-treat is for kids” Pidge’s ass, she always went out on Halloween night with Matt

-Subsequently, every time some rando would comment on “how sweet it was that Matt was taking little Katie Trick-or-treating,” she’d kick said rando in the shins

-September and October never failed to dissolve into an all-out, two-month prank war in the Holt household, from hiding rotten eggs in each other’s rooms to putting fake spiders in the community cereal box

-When Pidge learned that there were no plans to celebrate Halloween at the Galaxy Garrison, she about lost her damn mind

-She went on a fifteen minute rant at Iverson about how important Halloween is and how it’s considered cruel and unusual to subject the cadets, herself included, to a lack of festivities; Iverson just kind of stood there and took it because “holy hell why is this child shrieking at me”

-Pidge spent the next several days after that trying in vain to find a pumpkin or something of like appearance to carve, but the Garrison is in the middle of the effing desert so that didn’t go well

-She eventually stole a butternut squash from the Garrison kitchen, hollowed it out (with some difficulty and ample amounts of sheer determination) and carved it into an ultimately very-phallic-looking Jack-O-Lantern

-Lance referred to it as a Dick-O-Lantern for the entirety of the time that it was kept around

-Pidge’s favorite thing to do during the blessed two months of the “Halloween season” was hide in small places where no one else could fit and jump out at other cadets, effectively scaring the living hell out of them

-Iverson chewed her out after he became one of her victims and very nearly peed his pants; Pidge’s defense was that “it’s Halloween–the only two acceptable emotions on Halloween are happiness and fear, and you seem to be incapable of the former.”

-Hunk very quickly became Pidge’s favorite jumpscare victim, mostly because of his over-the-top reactions to being startled

-This new hobby was also how she discovered that Lance screams like a thirteen year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert

-When the Dick-O-Lantern reached the end of its life, Pidge was hesitant to throw it out until Hunk pointed out that it had “become too soft to stand up on its own anymore”

-Hunk did not realize

-Lance did

-The three of them had a small funeral for the Dick-O-Lantern, which was mostly just them gathered around a trash can making dick jokes for ten minutes

-Pidge ended up dissolving into tears by the end of it because it just reminded her so much of something she and Matt would have done together before he disappeared

-Lance and Hunk hugged and comforted her; even though they didn’t understand the full extent of Pidge’s anguish at the time or the reasoning behind it, they knew their friend was hurting and that was reason enough to show her some love

-Hunk suggested they raid the kitchen again for another squash to mutilate in the name of festivity

-Pidge still really loves Halloween

mutantcookieman  asked:

Jeez, a thirteen year old and her brother destroyed a kingdom in a fight? Jeez, I wish I was that awesome at thirteen. (Although she did become totally evil and murdered her brother, soooo...)

I think you’re confusing who amber is.

I don’t blame you tho, I’m very vague about the info I give

A Babies!! On Ice tidbit:

After Koichi and Kyo win their first Junior Worlds, a documentary team makes a short feature called Dynasty: A Figure Skating Story. The film team basically descends on Kyushu for a week to follow around the twins and Yuuri and Viktor.

They’re expecting a super-serious environment where Viktor and Yuuri wake their kids up before dawn and have the twins on the ice before sunrise.

And they do get this, but instead of the almost-solemn tone they were expecting of the family, they get:

- Kyo and Koichi, age thirteen, arguing with their 20-year-old brother about the gender of the word “table” in German loudly across the tatami room;
-Mikhail, who has not slept because he has a Biology test on Monday morning, intermittently flicking sugar cubes at Koichi and Kyo as they argue with him. Every once in awhile, one of the twins will catch one in their mouth–Mikhail congratulates them genuinely on their good catch.
- Viktor spending ten minutes trying to get Yuuri out of bed. At one point, the cameras pick up Yuuri mumbling, “Why did we reproduce.”
- They finally get out the door at eight o'clock. Mikhail and Emma come with so they can get shots of the two of them on the sidelines. They have difficulty getting shots that aren’t Emma laughing at Koichi or Kyo falling–or Mikhail feverishly flipping pages in his book on the bleachers.
- “Could you maybe do part of one of your old programs for us?” the directors ask Viktor, and Viktor says something like, “Not if you want me to keep my ACL! But my husband will do one of his!”
-Every Nikiforov child in the building stopping what they’re doing to watch otosan skate.
- “Is it true that you ended your career because of your pregnancy with your eldest daughter?” They ask Yuuri, and Yuuri just tilts his head back and laughs hysterically.
- Kyo and Koichi go to a local competition where they try to play up the rivalry between Yuuri and his former home team competition Kenjiro Minami, but it’s difficult when Minami hugs Yuuri on sight and introduces him to his own students as “Japan’s Hero.”
- Kyo and Koichi are the picture of professionalism when on the ice, but immediately afterward are arguing in the kiss&cry over who gets to keep the eevee plush someone threw on the ice.
-“We make Katsudon when someone wins!” Viktor says, gleefully cutting up veg while Yuuri breads pork.
“Doesn’t that have a lot of empty calories?”
Every Nikiforov in the room gasps.
- They call Irina before bed and it mostly devolves into Yuri P. loudly demanding when his godbabies will visit him next.
-“Say hi to your sister everybody!”
“SEND ME MORE VODKA,” Mikhail screams over everyone else. “THE GOOD STUFF. YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE.”

Editing the film is very, very hard…but hey, it goes to Sundance?

Operation Pirate Law

So, I answered the call to write a fic for the CSSV for someone who didn’t receive one. Imagine my delight when I discovered that it was for none other than @lenfaz! So, here you are Lena, I hope you enjoy. It may not take place during Valentine, but it does include two meddlesome boys trying to act like cupid! 

Thanks to @emmandhook for letting me be involved and a BIG thank you to @captndevil for being my amazing last minute beta!


All of Liam’s efforts to get his older brother together with the town Deputy are not having the desired effect. Maybe he needs to change tactics and find himself an accomplice? Fortunately, the Deputy’s son has the same idea, and together they put into action – Operation Pirate Law.

Word count: ~7000

Rating: general audiences

Also on Ao3 and

Killian Jones let out a deep sigh as he approached the Storybrooke Sheriff Station. He and his younger brother, Liam, had only been in town a few weeks, and although they’d had a rough few months leading up to this point, Killian thought Liam was past this sort of behavior. He supposes nothing should surprise him anymore.

It wasn’t until five months ago that Killian was even aware that he had a younger brother. His father, Brennan Jones, had passed back in England and the executor had been sent to America to both notify Killian of his father’s passing and to inquire whether or not he would accept guardianship over his half brother, per his father’s wishes. Killian hadn’t seen or heard from his father in nearly twenty-five years, and he wasn’t sure which had been the biggest shock, the news of Brennan’s death, the news that he had a half brother, or the fact that his younger brother shared the same name as his deceased older brother.

At first, Killian’s anger towards the man who had abandoned him, his older brother, and his mother had caused him to refuse taking responsibility of the younger Liam. For a brief few days Killian justified his refusal to uphold his father’s last wish as a way to somehow get back at the man who’d walked out on them and then, apparently, replaced them with another family, but then that voice of reason (which always sounded like his brother, Liam - his older brother, Liam) had prevailed. Within a week, the younger Liam had arrived and Killian found himself in the role of part brother, part parent to a thirteen-year-old boy whose entire world had been turned upside down.

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@mid0nz wrote:

I’ll just end with this– the greatest missing scene of all. Eurus, Sherlock and Mycroft weren’t born. They were made. HOW? What would she have had to suffer to be that conniving child? What did she see? How did she learn? She learned to speak the language of the sociopaths who raised her. 

I don’t see this.  While I agree about the Holmes parents’ monstrousness (though I don’t think the show meant for us to read them as such), one of my greatest frustrations with the writers’ S3/S4 choices is that they really do seem to think that Sherlock was “made” by a single traumatic event (and, in consequence, that now that he has recovered his memory of the event, he can relatively easily remake himself into a nice, normal person).  I find this crudely reductionist and emotionally unsatisfying, even for a genre show.  Meanwhile, Euros’s childhood sociopathy/whatever malignant mental illness the show thinks she has appears to have arisen solely from her intelligence and its unavoidable concomitant, lack of feeling.  There’s no other explanation even hinted at in the text.  Mycroft…well, who bothered to think this through for Mycroft?  Apparently he’s just another, but lesser, unfeeling-brain-by-nature who merely happened to be in the vicinity when the murder and self-harm and multiple arsons and supposed death by fire of his sister went down.  No trauma involved for him!  (For all that MG infuses Mycroft’s flashbacks with real feeling, there is not a single moment when anyone in the story acts as if Musgrave would have been a horrifying experience for Sherlock’s thirteen-year-old brother, as well.) 

In earlier years, fandom liked to toy with all kinds of Grand Guignol theories about childhood at Holmes Manor.  I never thought the Holmes parents could be Quite Right, but a few of the theories seemed excessive even by the new TFP standard.  So, while I wasn’t thrilled with the Middle-Class McNormalsons reveal of S3, I could begrudgingly bring myself to live with it.  But what the two theories in their more reasonable incarnations had in common was that the Holmes boys, while obviously responding to their environments, shaped themselves.  Neglect, whether benign or malicious, left them to grow up as hothouse flowers, cultivating their own strange characters.  Reducing all their splendid self-willed oddity to “well, Sherlock had one Really Bad Experience as a child” and “Mycroft is smart therefore naturally inhuman” is just so unsatisfying for me.  I’m sure part of this results from the clumsy, inconsistent, preaching-not-showing “S4 is a speedrun of itself” showrunning, but I’ve read enough Moffat interviews to believe that he really thinks that TFP solved the ultimate mystery of Sherlock Holmes (“How can anyone be like that and not be a monster?”) and that the answer was “His childhood friend was murdered.”

(I cannot work out a way to selectively quote long nested texts on Tumblr, so apologies for this formatting.)


elysian: capitolo primo


Nico’s had a pretty shitty life. His best friend, sister, and mother all dead, and an abandoned father all coupled with being sent off to a new country, he isn’t sure if it’s cruel humor or sick coincidence that he got his soulmate mark at the worst of times.

Will’s had a boring life. Living what’s seemingly the same day on repeat, he wants out. He wants excitement.

Here’s the story of how they met.
[read on ao3]

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Darling, What Did You Expect? (Zach Mitchell X Reader)

Fandom: Jurassic World
Pairing: Zach Mitchell X Reader
Word Count: 4,311
Prompt(s): Zach is 18 and the reader is 2 years older and he has a giant crush on her, but she has the kind of mindset that anyone younger than her is still a kid. He tries to prove her wrong. I was thinking there could be awkward parts for laughs and fluff + Maybe a love/hate relationship kind of thing with Zach from Jurassic World? Cause I feel like he’d be really good at antagonizing people haha.
Sorry I didn’t follow them exactly, but I hope you like this, nonnies!!  <333
Author’s Note: I like to imagine that in the film, Gray is like eleven and Zach is like sixteen, and in this, Gray is thirteen and Zach is eighteen!!  (:  Also I have this headcanon that Zach listens to Fall Out Boy??? And also that Gray is 100% a band kid.  ((:

“Your name is Gray, right?” You asked, walking up to the boy and raising an eyebrow.

He nodded as he put away his trombone.

“I just wanted to say that you did a really good job today.” You leaned slightly closer and lowered your voice conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re a lot better than most of the eighth graders I’ve taught.”

Gray chuckled, and you smiled.

“Do you take lessons, or are you just naturally gifted?” You didn’t want to hold the kid back, but band was sixth period and you didn’t think his parent was here to pick him up yet.

“Naturally gifted.” He said sheepishly. You grinned.

“Naturally gifted people are often the best musicians.” You frowned at him after a moment. “Lucky duck. I play violin, and it took me three years to get even kind of good at it. Anyways,” You started, swiping your purse off your desk and slinging it over your shoulder. “I should let you go.” You looked out the window of the band room. “Your parent is probably here.”

Gray shook his head immediately. “My parents are divorced, so I’m staying with my mom right now, but she’s at work and needed my brother to pick me up. I’m pretty sure he’s going to forget.”

You rolled your eyes. “Brothers are the worst. I’ll wait outside with you, if you want?” Gray nodded enthusiastically, and you followed him out of the room, locking the door on your way out.

You sat on the steps leading up to the school, and you chatted more about Gray’s taste in music and what instruments he’d like to play in the future while you waited for his brother to show up.


An hour later, and Gray’s brother still hadn’t shown up. You glanced at your watch and huffed at the time, climbing to your feet.

“Okay, your brother officially sucks.” You said and offered Gray a hand to help him up. “Can I drive you home? I don’t think your brother’s gonna show up anytime soon.”

He seemed to contemplate it for a moment before nodding. “Sure.”

You grinned. “Awesome! I can show you this great band in the car. You ever heard of Fall Out Boy?”

“I think my brother listens to them, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard one of their songs.”

“Your brother has good taste in music, I’ll give him that. No, but seriously, they’re amazing.” You said enthusiastically as you unlocked the doors to a __f/c__, vintage Volkswagen Beetle. You slid into the front seat while Gray climbed into the passenger seat, and before you even buckled up, you fiddled with the CD player that you had gotten installed in your car and pressed play.

Instantly, the sound of Fall Out Boy’s Young Volcanoes filled the air, and you couldn’t help but sing along as you started to drive. Gray wrinkled his eyebrows together in confusion as you drove, and it wasn’t until you pulled up at the grocery store that you realized you hadn’t told him where you were going.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry! I figured you’d be hungry and since your brother is kind of a jerk I wanted to treat you to some ice cream or something. We don’t have to though, I just thought it’d be fun.”

Gray was already getting out of the car, beaming at you excitedly. “That sounds awesome! You are the best substitute teacher ever.”

You grinned back as you pulled the keys out of the ignition and stuffed them in your purse, following Gray into the store.

“Pick out whatever you want, kiddo.”


Thirty minutes and almost fifty dollars later (believe it or not, only fifteen of those were spent on things purposely chosen by Gray, the other thirty five was spent on stuff that you wanted Gray to try and a Fall Out Boy CD so he didn’t need to borrow his brother’s), you were back in your car, both licking ice cream cones that were quickly melting.

“Okay, so, how do I get to your house?” You asked as you started your car while simultaneously trying not to drop your ice cream.

Gray gave you directions, and in no time, you were pulling into the driveway of a cute, suburban house. You parked your car and hopped out, carrying the bag of stuff for Gray and walking up to the front door.

You pounded on it with more force than necessary (but seriously, who leaves their thirteen year old brother alone at school for an hour and a half?), and you blinked in surprise several times when a shirtless guy opened the door. He had a towel haphazardly tied around his waist, water dripping from his hair, and a confused tilt to his lips that was kind of adorable.

Basically, he looked like a model for Abercrombie and Fitch and god damn it assholes were not allowed to be hot!

“Do I know you?” Gray’s brother asked, and made no move to adjust the towel that was hanging ridiculously low on his hips.

You shook your head. “You don’t know me, but you do know Gray. You know, your brother? Who you were supposed to pick up? School ended an hour and a half ago.” You gestured at the sandy-blonde haired boy to your left.

He waved, and Gray’s hot brother smacked a hand to his forehead. “Oh my god, Gray, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

Gray shrugged. “It’s fine.” He turned to look at you and grinned before throwing his arms around you, surprising both you and his brother. “Ms. __l/n__ gave me a ride home.”

You smiled at him as he pulled away. “It’s __y/n__, Gray. Ms. __l/n__ makes me feel old.”

“How old are you, exactly?” Gray’s brother chimed in, and you turned to look at him.

“Too old for you.” You answered and ruffled Gray’s hair before walking back to your car. Zach’s mouth had fallen open at your response, and Gray carefully leaned up and shut it.

“Don’t wanna catch flies, do you?” He said, and chuckled to himself at the affronted look on Zach’s face.

“Whose side are you on?”

“The side of the person who gave me a ride home.” Gray said simply, looking down at his bag of new stuff excitedly. You were the coolest teacher ever.

“See you around, Gray.” You called out to the younger Mitchell brother, waving at him as you drove away.

“…Was she listening to Fall Out Boy?” Zach asked, looking at his little brother in surprise.


“Woah.” Zach said.

You were kind of ridiculously awesome (and hot), and Zach found himself hoping that he could see you again.


“You want me to stay?” Your week of being a substitute teacher for Gray’s band class was almost over, but the principal had called you to her office and offered you a full time position. They had been trying, and failing, to locate a full-time band teacher, and all the kids loved you, so they thought they’d at least see if you were interested in the position.

You thought about it for a moment.

You had never really liked being a substitute, most kids were brats, and music was the one thing you were actually trained in. Maybe being a real teacher would be fun.

“Okay.” You said, and the principal grinned.

“Great! We’ll see you on Monday, then.”


“How would you guys feel about doing a play?” You asked, three weeks later. You had decorated your classroom now, and it was filled with posters for bands and musicals and in your opinion, it looked awesome.

“Depends on the type of play, I guess.” A girl with a pixie cut piped up from behind her flute.

“A musical, of course.”

You heard murmurs from your class, and most of them seemed to like the idea.

“I was thinking we could do The Little Mermaid. There’s plenty of roles for everyone, and you guys can totally show off your talents by playing the music. I’d need to teach you a couple of dances, but I think it could be fun.” You said, shrugging.

“I’m in.” Gray, who had become your star pupil, added, and you grinned.

“Awesome! I kind of already approved it with the school, so,” You grabbed a giant notepad from behind your desk and propped it up on a music stand. “I took the liberty of drafting up a list of characters, we can add more, of course, but these are just the main ones, so, yeah. Who wants to be Ariel?”

You were expecting people to be fighting over the role, so you were surprised when no one raised their hand.

“No one, really? She’s so fun to play!” Still, no one volunteered, so you went onto the next role. “The Prince?” A couple people whispered to each other, but no one volunteered for that either.

You went through the rest of the cast list easily, and when everyone that wanted a role got one, you looked back at the notepad and sighed. You still needed an Ariel and a prince. It appeared that none of your students wanted to play the leads (you couldn’t blame them; you had played Sandy in a play in high school and you were shaking pretty much the whole time), so you were going to have to find someone else to do it.


When school got out, you kept Gray behind. “Hey, Gray, are you sure you don’t want to be the prince? I think you could do a really good job with it.”

He shook his head. “I’m really happy with Flounder, actually, sorry.” Gray looked you up and down. “Why don’t you play Ariel?”

“What? No. I can’t! I need to direct the play and conduct you guys during the really intense musical parts.”

“I’m pretty sure you can do that and still play Ariel.” Gray pointed out. “Why not? Your voice is awesome, and you’d probably do the part better than any of us could.”

“I mean, I guess I could. I already know all of the songs but I still need someone to play the prince.”

“Leave that to me.” Gray said, and you did not trust the mischievous smile that stretched across his lips.

“Gray,” You started, but Gray didn’t let you finish.

“I’ve got this! Trust me!” He called out over his shoulder as he bounded out of the room.


“Do you remember my teacher that you’re madly in love with?” Gray asked, stepping into Zach’s room without knocking.

Zach rolled his eyes as he took off his headphones. “I was not madly in love with her.” Zach objected, and Gray shrugged.

“Sure you weren’t. Anyways, we’re doing a concert/play thing for The Little Mermaid in band and she’s going to play Ariel, but she needs a prince.”

“Okay.” Zach said, waiting for Gray to continue.

When Gray said nothing but continued to stare at him, Zach blinked in surprise.

“Me? You think I should be the prince?”

“Yeah! You obviously like her, and you’d get to kiss her for the play.”

Zach narrowed his eyes at Gray. “First off, why are you helping me?”

Gray shrugged. “I think she liked you too. And she’s super awesome, and you’re kind of a jerk sometimes, but you’re pretty awesome too, and you both deserve to date somebody awesome.”

Zach smiled and ruffled Gray’s hair affectionately. “Secondly, I can’t act.”

“It’s a play for a middle school class, none of us are professional actors. Actually,” Gray said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I think __y/n__ might be.”


Gray didn’t respond, but he did climb over Zach, go to YouTube on Zach’s computer, and hastily type in “__y/n__ __l/n__ The Little Mermaid”. It brought up at least a dozen videos, and Gray clicked on one that showed a picture of a slightly younger you on a stage.

You were dressed in a __f/c__ clamshell bra, a __f/c__, sparkly, mermaid tail, and a deep red wig that actually looked pretty amazing on you. You were sitting on a rock, and as soon as Gray clicked play and Zach unhooked his headphones, your voice filled the air.

You were singing Part of Your World, and while Gray was impressed, Zach was mesmerized. If Zach thought he had a crush on you before, it was nothing compared to seeing you looking so at home.

Even though you weren’t smiling, there was a small twinkle in your eyes that let Zach know that you were happy. You were meant to be on stage.

Zach wondered vaguely why you had given up acting, but he didn’t get to voice his thoughts because Gray beat him to it.

“I wonder why she started teaching. She looks so much happier on stage.”

Zach nodded in agreement, and after watching the video for a moment longer, he spoke. “I’m in, by the way. Tell __y/n__ that I’d love to do the play if she lets me.”

Gray grinned. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”


“What?” You asked in disbelief. “You want your brother to play the prince?”

Gray nodded. “Zach’s only a little younger than you, so it’d wouldn’t be illegal or anything for you to kiss him during the kissing scene.” Gray assured you, and you fought the urge to ruffle his hair. Gray was too adorable for words sometimes.

“How old is your brother?”


You gnawed on your lip thoughtfully. You were twenty, almost twenty one, actually, and the idea of kissing a teenager, even one as attractive as Gray’s brother, just felt wrong. You knew it was only two years, but he was still a teenager and you were an adult. It would just be weird.

Your mind flashed back to Gray’s brother’s stupid little smirk when he caught you looking at his abs, and then to his abs. Damn. The sight had practically ingrained itself into your mind.

“Okay.” You said after a moment of silence. “He can play the prince. We’re going to meet after school on Wednesdays and Thursdays for practice, let him know?”

Gray’s grin was infectious. “I will.”


“You’re late, Mr. Mitchell.” You chastised, tapping your watch as he walked onto the stage and took a seat next to Gray.

“Sorry, __y/n__, it won’t happen again.”

“It had better not. And it’s Ms. __l/n__ to you.” You responded, and you could hear a light “Ooooh” spread throughout your students. You always encouraged everyone to call you __y/n__, so it was odd to hear you asking someone to call you by your last name.

“Yes, ma'am.” Zach said easily, leaning back on his hands and looking up at you as you ran through your notes for the practice. He didn’t think he was imagining the slight blush that dusted your cheeks for the first five minutes of the meeting.


A month later, and Zach was just as unbearably attractive as before.

You, Gray, and Zach were the only ones who had showed up for practice on this particular Wednesday (you thought Gray might’ve had something to do with it as he had mysteriously disappeared to the bathroom twenty minutes ago), and Zach was becoming way too good of an actor. You were in the middle of practicing the Kiss the Girl scene (you had to play the song off your phone since no one had showed up, traitors), and it was awful.

It involved a lot of Zach looking at you longingly and you pretending not to notice, and you knew he was too young for you but you were finding it seriously hard not to kiss him.

The music swelled in the air, and you fiddled with your hair and looked over at Zach, and you had to pretend to be surprised to find him staring at you. You straightened up and smiled at him, and you both leaned in, before Zach leaned back away and pretended to focus on his rowing. You forced a pout onto your face, and after a moment of just letting the music play, Zach as Prince Eric spoke.

“I feel really bad not knowing your name,” He said and smiled at you, and god why did your heart feel like it was going to pound right out of your chest??? “Maybe I can guess.”

You nodded at him hopefully.

“Is it, ah, Mildred?” You made a face and shook your head. Zach chuckled, and fucking hell why did he have such a cute laugh? “Okay, no. How about Dianna?” You shook your head again. “Rachel?”

“Ariel, her name is Ariel.” Sebastian’s voice came floating out of your phone, and Zach pretended to contemplate that for a moment.

“Ariel?” He tried again, and you nodded, grabbing his hand excitedly. “That’s kinda pretty. Okay. Ariel.” Zach said and smiled at you.

Your hands were locked together now (you couldn’t help but notice just how nice it felt to hold his hands), and the music increased in volume as you and Zach pretended to float on a boat.

You and Zach both leaned towards each other, slowly letting your faces get closer. You both puckered your lips, and you watched Zach’s eyes slip closed. You knew you were supposed to do the same thing, but as you leaned forward and the music continued to play, you just couldn’t do it. There was nothing to stop you from kissing; at this part in the play, someone was supposed to be rocking your boat but A) you hadn’t finished making the boat yet and B) there was no one there to rock the boat. You could kiss Zach, no one would know, but instead, when Zach’s face was only centimeters from yours, you turned your head to the side.

Zach’s lips brushed your cheek, and his eyes flicked open, revealing the hurt in them. You looked away immediately, grabbed your phone, and climbed to your feet. You paused the music and stuffed it in the pocket of your sweater, frowning at the confused expression on Zach’s face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, waving at him and dashing from the room.

The moment you were gone, Zach groaned and pressed his face into his hands. He should’ve known that Gray’s plan wouldn’t work. You were mature and beautiful and you had a job, and Zach was just an unemployed kid who still lived with his parents.

Zach’s crush on you had only grown in the month that he had really gotten to know you, and he wanted to kiss you more than he had wanted anything in his life.  

“How’d it go?” Gray asked, stepping into the room and frowning when he saw the melancholy expression on his older brother’s face. “Dang. I really thought that would work.”

“Thanks for trying, little bro, but I don’t think she likes me.” Zach sighed. “I’ll just…” Zach groaned again, burying his face into his knees. How could he show his face around you now? If you hadn’t known before that he liked you, you did now. And you would almost certainly start treating him like the child you thought he was and fuck just thinking about it made his heart ache.

“She does.” Gray insisted, rubbing his brother’s shoulder comfortingly. “I just need to get her to admit it.”


The next month of practices were brutal. An awkward sort of tension had blossomed between you and Zach, and, of course, your students noticed. They didn’t comment on it, but you knew that they felt it.

Hell, you were pretty sure that the janitor who had wandered into the band room to clean one Thursday had felt it.

And it was killing you. You and Zach had developed a sort of love/hate relationship. He’d tease you, and you’d sass him right back, but now, Zach rarely spoke during practice unless he had a line. Even then, he could rarely look you in the eye.

You held him back one day after practice to try and figure out what had happened. You knew it had something to do with the Kiss the Girl incident, but you thought that he had understood why you couldn’t kiss him.

“What’s wrong, Zach?” You asked, genuine concern bleeding through your tone. You were worried. Zach had lost all of the passion he had developed for acting.

He shook his head, ducking his face away from your gaze. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” You rarely swore, so the sudden curse made him tilt his head up to look at you in surprise. “You hate me for not kissing you, don’t you? I’m sorry. I can’t kiss you. If I kiss you, I’m not going to be able to stop and you’re still just a teenager and you’re just too young for me and-”

Zach interrupted your rambling by pressing a finger to your lips. “Go back for a minute, please?” There was a ghost of the smile that you had loved and missed so much resting on his face, and it made your heart somersault.

 "I can’t kiss you before the play starts or I’ll never want to stop. I like you, okay? But I’m almost three years older than you and normally that wouldn’t bother me but you’re still a teenager, damn it, and I teach teenagers, Zach! What do you want me to do?“

Zach’s face was suddenly right near yours, and his brown eyes were staring into your __e/c__ ones with an intensity that surprised you. "I want you to kiss me.”

You gaped at him for a moment. “Zach, I literally just told you why I can’t do that.”

Please.” The way he said please made you feel like someone had just ripped your heart in two, so without thinking about the consequences, you surged forwards and crashed your lips onto his. He responded immediately, his hands flying up to cup your cheeks as he kissed you back eagerly.

He backed you up into a wall, taking control of the kiss, and you gave it to him willingly. Zach nibbled gently on your lower lip, and you opened your mouth obediently, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue fight with yours and fisted your hands in his hair, tugging him closer to you. You needed to feel his body against yours.

He came willingly, his body molding and bending against yours as he kissed you deeply. He pulled away after a moment, and you could hear his labored breathing, so similar to your own. You opened your mouth to speak, you didn’t know what you were going to say yet but you were going to come up with something, when his lips attached themselves to your neck. You let out a squeak in surprise before relaxing into the sensation of him licking and nipping and sucking on your throat.

“Zach,” You groaned, reluctantly pulling him away from your skin. “The show is in two days, I can’t have marks.”

Zach smiled at you sheepishly. “Too late.”

“You asshole,” You whined, turning your head to the side and poking lightly at the pale purple flesh. That was going to darken ridiculously, you could tell.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” He said and pressed another quick kiss to your lips in apology.


The final two rehearsals for the show went swimmingly (pun completely intended) now that the tension between you and Zach had dissipated. Everyone had cheered when you and Zach showed up to rehearsal together, your hands linked and your smiles soft and shy (no one had cheered louder than Gray, though).

Finally, it was opening night for the show, and you were way more nervous than you expected.

“I’m nervous. Why am I nervous?” You asked, obsessively smoothing out your tail. Zach caught your hands in his and brought you into a soothing kiss.

“I don’t know. Why are you nervous? You’ve done this play like a dozen times.”

“I know, but-wait, how’d you know that?” You looked at your boyfriend in confusion. “I didn’t tell you about that yet.”

“Gray figured it out and he showed me one of the videos. You were amazing, by the way. But I bet you’re gonna do even better tonight.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because I’m your prince and sparks fly whenever we’re around each other.”

You snorted. “That was cheesy as hell.”

Zach grinned. “I know. But you’re not freaking out anymore, so I must’ve done something right.”

You seemed to contemplate it for a moment before leaning up and kissing him sweetly. “You’ve done everything right.” You looked at your neck to make sure that the mark Zach had left on you was completely covered up with makeup. You didn’t need the parents of your students to see your hickey.

“It’s covered, don’t worry.” Zach said, and you knew he was bummed out about it. He liked seeing the mark on you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, catching him in a quick embrace that surprised him until you spoke, your voice a low whisper in his ear. “I’ll let you leave as many marks as you want once the show’s over, okay?”

Zach smiled. “Can’t wait.”


The show went amazingly, all your band kids nailed their musical numbers and all your actors were incredible. Ticket sales were so high that the principal requested you do one more week of performances, which all your students happily agreed to (Zach was not so enthusiastic about that).

When the final performance ended, Zach dragged you into your makeshift dressing room and pinned you to the wall before everyone had even vacated the auditorium.

Needless to say, by the time you drove to your apartment, there were half a dozen fresh love bites littering your neck.

End.  <3

For me personally, the most important part of IT 2017 was Billy’s love for his baby brother. I loved the clown as a character when I say love I don’t mean “love” I still wanted the freaking clown to die. I just meant that I appreciated what he brought to the movie plot. But Billy’s love for Georgie was so much more important to me.

Billy a thirteen-year-old CHILD was was willing to go into a house with a demonic monster, ALONE, in the hopes that Georgie might still be alive/kill the clown. It’s great that his friends came to help him and all. But that doesn’t invalidate that he would have gone alone if his friends hadn’t come.

Billy a thirteen-year-old CHILD decided that going into a house with a demonic monster was better than seeing that his baby brother wasn’t home.

Billy a thirteen-year-old CHILD ran after the monster rather than away from it for Georgie’s sake.

Billy a thirteen-year-old CHILD was willing to get eaten by the clown so his friends could escape. And I have no doubt that if he could have sacrificed himself to save, Georgie, he would have done it in a heartbeat. 

When Georgie was dragged into the sewers the name he screamed out was Billy. Not mommy. Not daddy. Billy. I know from personal experience that when something bad is about to happen to you, you call out the name of the person you rely on the most. That you trust to protect you the best. Billy must have been one great brother for Georgie to call out to him for help rather than his mom or dad.

It was Billy’s love for Georgie that gave him the strength to overcome his fears. 

I know the movie wasn’t as scary as it could have been. But how is Bill’s selfless and fearless love for his baby brother, not worth watching?

Stax Attax

In honor of Stranger Things’ one year anniversary, @elevenknope and I are proud to present the first chapter of Stax Attax, a slice-of-life series about everyone’s favorite fanon ‘siblings’, Steve and Max.

Stax Trax: “We Got the Beat”


Max’s family moves to Hawkins from Indianapolis in June, amid her protests against ending up in a middle-of-nowhere dump where people probably marry their own cousins. She misses the anonymity of the city; slipping out of the family’s run-down apartment building and skateboarding down barely-used alleys and through abandoned parking lots. She feels like everyone in Hawkins knows about her and she’d rather not have anyone in her business.

She spends her first two weeks in the town alone, leaving her house early in the mornings with a messy peanut butter sandwich in her threadbare backpack and her skateboard slung under her arm. Quickly she finds that what Hawkins lacks in abandoned parking lots it more than makes up for in quiet, dense forest. It’s on one of her Saturday morning ventures that she stumbles upon a small boy in a strange fort in the woods.

Keep reading

tantalum-cobalt  asked:

Are you still taking family prompts? If so, I'd love to read something for “Here, I’ll zip you up.” with Tim and Damian :) Love your writing and your blog!!

I’m always taking prompts :D And thank you very much, I had a lot of fun writing this and I really hope you like it!

Read on AO3

It’s one of those weeks - you know the ones.

It starts with three WE accountants turning rogue. It’s honestly more annoying than surprising, since it’s almost Christmas and there are a lot of year-end financial statements to be done. And, still in the name of honesty, Tim’s already done enough of them to understand how someone could think that turning to crime would be a better life choice. By thursday the head of HR starts her own crime empire, and when they schedule a meeting about it everybody in the department claims that they knew she’d end up doing something like that, what with all the pictures of the Joker on her desk, and Tim has to make a tremendous effort not to point out that maybe, maybe, that issue should’ve been brought up before their boss started robbing banks.

Today is - thankgodforsmallmercies - friday, and in the morning someone in the technical department decided it was a good day to bring their expertise to Two Face’s business. Tim didn’t even ask about details, just marched into his own office, shut the door behind him, and let the police deal with it. In a few hours he’ll go home, put on the Red Robin costume and go help them anyway. “Don’t you check these people background before hiring them?” Damian asks, sitting at Tim’s desk, surrounded by piles of books taller than him. He looks like a baby accountant from hell, what with the suit and the scowl and his feet not reaching the floor and the embezzlement of everything Tim owns, but the desk and the computer and the pens really are a small price to pay for his help, as much as Tim hates to admit it.

And it’s not like he didn’t ask literally anyone else before deciding to put away both his pride and his survival instinct and recruit Damian to help him with this mess, but Bruce is in Hong Kong with Alfred and Cass, and Dick had smiled apologetically at him and said something like “sorry, I’m not so good with numbers, little bird” - and well, Tim knows it’s not really true but also true enough not to push. Jason could help - Tim knows he could, because as much as the bastard likes to play dumb they both know he’s really not - but when asked he just laughed to his face. Barbara didn’t laugh but was already overwhelmed with her work, and Stephanie had blatantly thrown a piece of her waffle at him.

So yeah, his thirteen year old ex-assassin little brother was basically the most qualified and experienced of them, and the only one that actually agreed to help - although not without a little convincing and blackmailing, but yeah, Tim was borderline desperate there.

Keep reading

Does anyone else question King Aleron’s parenting techniques? Yes, I’ll take both my heirs to the battlefield even though the second is only thirteen and it would make much more political sense for me to keep him in Arles if, for some strange and entirely unlikely to happen reason both me and Auguste die. Afterall, I have no doubt that if King Theomedes finds out that my entire line are here, he will absolutely respect the rules of war and will not, under any circumstances, go beyond the front to where said thirteen year old heir - and my most loyal brother for that matter - are and wipe out my line completely, ensuring a swift and easy annexation of my kingdom. No, I will competely and utterly ignore the possibility of that happening.

Not to mention if, in the unlikely even that both I and my heir are killed in battle, my thirteen-year-old son will in no way be completely traumatised by seeing battle at such a young age. Yes, keeping him as close to the battle as humanly possible is much preferable to keeping him in Arles.

Five graphic novels we’re reading this weekend


In a fantastical post-industrial desert, fifteen-year-old Boetema suddenly develops the ability to astral project to other planets while she sleeps. When she accidentally gets a young man hurt on a planet light-years away, she must figure out a way to project back to save him. On her own world, Boetema’s two parents have temporarily left her and her thirteen-year-old brother, Inotu, to make a living as salt shepherds. Left to their own devices, the two siblings must flee across a dangerous desert when Inotu gets into trouble with a threatening cyborg bodyguard. As Boetema visits amazing planets and encounters vibrant cultures, she must confront her mistakes and learn to trust in Inotu as she navigates her newfound abilities.

BATGIRL Vol. 1: Beyond Burnside

Barbara Gordon’s heart belongs to Burnside, the ultra-hip Gotham City neighborhood. But some threats are bigger than Burnside. And when those threats come calling, Batgirl will answer!

Batgirl’s quest to track down her enemies’ master will take her from Okinawa to Singapore to Seoul to Shanghai. Along the way, she’ll enhance her martial arts skills, and meet legendary heroes.

New York Times best-selling creators Hope Larson (A Wrinkle in Time) and Rafael Albuquerque (AMERICAN VAMPIRE) take one of Gotham’s greatest heroes on a whirlwind world tour in BATGIRL VOL. 1: BEYOND BURNSIDE. Collects BATGIRL #1-6.


In 2008, Ananth Hirsh and Yuko Ota launched the auto-bio webcomic Johnny Wander. Eight years, four cats, and three moves are chronicled in this gorgeous omnibus, which includes a foreword by Raina Telgemeier (Smile, Ghosts). Hirsh and Ota’s charming reverie about new adulthood will appeal to fans of Kate Beaton, Bryan Lee O'Malley, and Jeffrey Brown—along with anyone who’s just winging it.

SAGA Vol. 7

From the worldwide bestselling team of FIONA STAPLES and BRIAN K. VAUGHAN, “The War for Phang” is an epic, self-contained SAGA event! Finally reunited with her ever-expanding family, Hazel travels to a war-torn comet that Wreath and Landfall have been battling over for ages. New friendships are forged and others are lost forever in this action-packed volume about families, combat, and the refugee experience.

SPIDER-MAN: Miles Morales Vol. 2

Miles Morales has only been in the Marvel Universe a short time, and now he’s in the middle of a war! But as Marvel’s heroes are torn apart by CIVIL WAR II, which side will Miles choose? Or can he and his Avengers friends Nova and Ms. Marvel find their own way? Things really get complicated when the future-seeing Inhuman Ulysses has a vision that puts Miles at the top of the most-wanted list! What terrible prediction could change the way the world looks at this young Spider-Man? Miles becomes a target, fighting to survive. Does he have any hope of escaping his pursuers — or his fate? Plus: Discover the untold history of Miles’ father! What was life like for Jefferson Davis before his son was born — back when he was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?! Collects Spider-Man (2016) #6-11.

Justin told me, “I think we’ve always tried to be [inclusive], it’s just early on we didn’t necessarily have the tools or the understanding of how to be that way. I think mainly that’s because we grew up around people like us. So that was our default. But that expanded. ‘People like us’ has gotten a lot broader since we’ve had a much broader audience.”

The turning point was furries. It was around episode 30, not even in response to a listener’s letter, but to a Yahoo Answers question from a thirteen-year-old furry wondering about coming out to his family. The brothers’ comedy comes from escalation, each taking the previous joke farther and to sillier lengths. In this case, the joke—the “joke”—was about how freaked out and disturbed they were by furries.  

The next episode, in the middle of answering another question—from a listener afraid of being made fun of for being in their school play—Justin segued into an apology. “Like, if you look at us. Last week we talked a lot of yay about furries, but to cover up the fact that we are all right now, as we record the show, wearing furry costumes.” Griffin said, “I’m a lynx.” Travis: “I’m a sexy cow.” And Justin? “I’m an apologetic tiger, because I feel bad to our furry friends.” Griffin chimed in, “I feel wicked bad!” He continued, “Let’s put this question on pause, cause we need to address this. I think that hatred comes from fear, and fear comes from misunderstanding.” And the brothers owned up to misunderstanding furries, and thanked the listeners who’d written in to set them straight.

As Justin told me, “Afterwards, we got these tweets from people who were like, ‘Hey, I’m a furry, and I like your show, and that sucked.’ I don’t know who we thought was listening, but we certainly didn’t think furries were, ‘cause we didn’t know any growing up. Once we realized that we hurt these people, we felt like garbage about it. So we were like, let’s make the decision to learn, and talk to these people, and celebrate them and become wildly pro-furry. What we realized is, isn’t it also a lot funnier to be wildly pro-furry. I think it’s funnier to be really into everything, permissive of everything.”

It’s not that they’re pretending to be pro-furry because being pro-furry is silly. The McElroys decided—and the success of MBMBaM proves—that actually being enthusiastic about everything opens the door to better comedy. Justin: “We realized it was a lot funnier than saying no all the time. It dovetails with basic improv rules. So we just started saying yes to fucking everything. You cannot trip us out any more!”

You know what the McElroys remind me of?

There’s a character in Community, Dean Pelton, who is a side/recurring character in the show. He’s rather effeminate, gets great enjoyment out of extravagant costumes and outfits, regularly crossdresses, and eschews the term “gay” because it’s not an expansive enough term. (Pansexual and genderqueer are most apt for him.)

And during an AMA, someone told show creator Dan Harmon that as a genderqueer person, they loved Pelton and how open and positive the character was.

Harmon’s response was gracious, and pointed out that with Pelton, often the joke was not that he was a weirdo or an outcast or anything like that. The joke was… happiness. That this person was performatively queer, and that the joke wasn’t at his expense, but that he was happy and people like that could be happy.

And that feeling is a close relative to what I feel with the McElroy content. It’s the same thing we say about jokes about race or gender or sex; make sure the joke is with the group, not against them. Comedy used to put down the downtrodden is bad; comedy used to uplift is one of the great goods.

I dunno. They just make me happy in a world where, right now, a lot of forces want to hurt me. And that’s important.

MBMBaM is almost never explicitly political, but—sad as this may be—in late 2016, inclusive compassion became a political act.

this is a one time only unpopular opinion (it seems) rant about how unfairly hated daenerys targaryen is and all the reasons why i fucking love her.

okay kids, daenerys is kind of amazing and it baffles me how underrated and unfairly hated she is by a good portion of the fandom. let’s dive right in.

daenerys grew up without both her parents, on the run, with only her abusive older brother and a kindly knight, ser willem darry, by her side to take care of her, but ser willem died when dany was around five years old. she was likely undereducated, having only viserys around to teach her things, even though she grew up in essos she likely only knew what she learned through experience in the free cities. and the only people she knew besides him were those who would take the exiled brother and sister in to use them for their own gain.

with viserys as her only family, dany was not only constantly emotionally and sexually abused, but likely grew up with a warped sense of self, depression, anxiety and ptsd from viserys’ treatment of her and the constant stress of their life on the run. she has never had a real home.

then when the asoiaf series begins, daenerys is literally sold to khal drogo by viserys for his political advancement when she was only thirteen years old - her own brother not caring at all what happens to dany as a result. after their marriage, dany is repeatedly raped by drogo. and now that she living among the dothraki, she has to adapt to and learn an entire new culture and language.

even after dany grows to love drogo and thrives amongst the dothraki, her suffering isn’t over. she is forced to allow the murder of her brother because of his madness and constant cruelty, which even though a wise choice, is still a major loss in daenerys’ life and should not be overlooked. then, dany loses both khal drogo and her unborn child. people always seem to forget the fact that dany lost a child (that she named after her dead brother rhaegar) and just how traumatic and devastating that loss was. not only that, but she finds out she will (probably) never be able to have another child again.

above all, daenerys targaryen is a survivor. she is proof that even those of us who have gone through the worst and most heartbreaking trials can turn their pain into strength and survive it. even though she has been through so much tragedy and cruelty, daenerys does not lose her compassion for others. yes, she shows no mercy to her enemies, but she always protects the ones who need her. dany is constantly protecting and building up other women, the dothraki, and the slaves in the cities she has conquered.

i am so sick and tired of seeing daenerys reduced to a “white savior”. first of all, she had no choice when it came to living in essos, where most people of color in the asoiaf world reside. still, dany never looks down on them, but repeatedly builds them up and protects them, even when she is just a young teen and defends the dothraki from viserys. she frees the slaves in astapor, yunkai and meereen, not because she think she’s better than they are or to control them or take over, but because she cares for them and wants to abolish slavery. without daenerys, all of those people would still be in chains. daenerys sees freedom as the greatest thing in the world because it’s something she never had growing up. the whole “white savior” thing only exists because of george r.r. martin’s decision to make her white, not because of dany’s actual actions - she just wants to free people.

daenerys did face many problems when trying to rule meereen, being so unfamiliar with meereenese customs and traditions - again due to her lack of education she probably knew very little about the slave cities to begin with other than the biased talk she heard while in the free cities. still, daenerys, like she always does, learns through experience. she makes mistakes but always does her best to respect their traditions, even reopening the fighting pits so those men she freed who wished to could fight for honor, even though she was personally against it. all daenerys wants now is to finally go to westeros and take back everything that was stolen from her as a child and find the home she never got to have.

yes, there are things daenerys does that i don’t agree with and are problematic, and i’m not saying that she is perfect. i would just like the fandom to acknowledge all the horror that she has been through in her life and to stop treating her unfairly. people are not perfect, therefore characters can’t be either. a character did something problematic? probably because it was supposed to be a problem, because stories have problems in them. you can love a character and acknowledge their faults at the same time. you can love a character and not condone their choices.

that’s how i feel about daenerys and all of the negatively surrounding her. i love her and i am tired of being made to feel guilty about that. i am so tired of the fandom straight up ignoring her lifetime of abuse and acting like it doesn’t matter, then wondering why she does the things she does as a result of that abuse. daenerys is a survivor. she’s doing the best she can and she is an amazing woman who deserves far better from us.

“this mother of dragons, this breaker of chains, is above all a rescuer.”


anonymous asked:

"Maybe I'm just crazy" Annaleen? 💓💓💓💓💕💕💕💕💖💖💖💖💖💗💗💗💗

What We’re Owed

Pairing: Annaleen

Word Count: 1078

A/N; Sorry this was so late, I hope you enjoy it! 

“Maybe I’m just crazy,” Eileen sighed, stirring her cup of coffee with her spoon as she watched the cream meld with the black liquid, “but shouldn’t children be grateful for their parents bringing them into the world? I could have just as easily gotten rid of the brat, and how does she repay the hell she put me through? Following her heart? What kind of bullshit did that stupid old man fill her head with.”

“I don’t know,” Anna sighed. Eileen’s eye twitched at the annoying sound, fighting the urge to throw the steaming coffee on her friend’s face. Ha, friend. She had been spending too much time with the damn ball of sunshine and teddy bares. Both things that Eileen thought were far too overrated and unnecessary, much like the woman she was comparing them too. “I think Wendy knows what she owes me for taking her in. She’s always leaving me these adorable presents and sweet notes. She’s not my favourite for nothing.”

“And when was the last time you saw Wendy?” Eileen asked, voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness.

“Hmm,” Anna said, leaning back in her chair as she thought. The afternoon sun made her pale blonde hair glint, tip of her ponytail falling over her shoulder, purple icing smudged on her lip from her half eaten cupcake. “A week or two ago, I think? She made dinner for me the night I had that big presentation due!”

“Anna that was two and a half months ago,” Eileen said flatly, rolling her eyes at Anna’s shocked expression. “And didn’t she put lemon in the chicken? You know, the only fruit you’re allergic to?”

“Oh, she didn’t mean to! And the hives went down right away,” Anna smiled. Eileen wished Wendy had shoved an entire lemon down Anna’s throat instead of just spiking the chicken. She had to admit though, the kid could be ruthless when she wanted to be, which was better than her own wasted potential of a child. 

Regardless, they were spending far too much time not talking about Eileen. 

“Can you believe that Erza would rather be a teacher than follow my lead as a lawyer? All that genetic material wasted by that damn conscious of hers,” Eileen’s lip curled at the thought. Why would she ever lower herself to help others? If anything, they should be begging to help her. Just like Erza should, seeing as she failed her original purpose of keeping her father under Eileen’s control. While he was a stupid and cruel man, he had been hers, and Eileen would rather see the thing dead than lose control of what belonged to her. 

“Makarov has always been a strong believer in those things,” Anna admitted. Her nose scrunched like a kitten when she tried to pick all the pink sprinkles off the remaining half of her cupcake. Eileen hated kittens. Ironically, Anna hated pink. Weren’t they such a lovely pair. Eileen scoffed at her own thoughts before speaking. 

“I can’t believe she fell into the one fucking orphanage that won’t sell to Alvarez after the incident at the Tower,” Eileen sighed, stirring her coffee more violently as irritation built under her skin. “I told him mixing ages would lead to those vermin getting ideas but noo, Zeref refuses to listen to counsel as always.”

Legal council,” Anna reminded her, popping the rest of her cupcake into her mouth. Eileen felt her lip curl in a sneer at the emphasis Anna put on the word.

“I have known the man for almost a decade,” Eileen spat.

“And I have known him since he was a child.” Anna said, “helping him search through the orphanages for his lost brother only a few months old when Zeref was already ten or twelve. Or do you think I would take in five children of my own will?”

“Seeing as how you abandoned your actual blood niece I suppose not,” Eileen said dryly, conceding to Anna’s hard glare. Eileen much preferred when the cold steel entered her boring brown eyes than the usual vacant joy. “How long was it until you dropped Natsu off with Igneel anyway?”

“I had him for a few years, but you know boys, so gross and icky as they grow up.” Anna said. Zeref had been very displeased with Anna at giving away his thirteen year-old brother, which meant Eileen had enjoyed the few months of bliss where Anna wasn’t able to do no wrong. Nothing felt better than watching others fail.

“You finally have an empty nest now,” Eileen hummed. Natsu had gone off with Igneel, Gajeel to Metallicana, Sting and Rogue to those disgusting saps  Weisslogia and Skiadrum, and finally Wendy had moved in with Grandine. It was exhausting keeping track on these useless children, but Eileen liked to make sure she knew everything about everyone that interacted with her daughter. 

“Not quite yet,” Anna said, wagging her finger at Eileen. Eileen wanted to break it, but focused on her breathing instead.

“Wendy has moved in with Grandine now that her tours are over in wherever this stupid country is fighting against.” Eileen said sharply. 

“What?” Anna asked, hurt clouding her eyes as she looked at her empty plate. 

“For two and a half months,” Eileen said snidely, a pleasant feeling growing in her chest as she watched Anna finally understand what had happened. Served her right for being so damn naive. “And now what you see what I mean about children being so fucking ungrateful? Look at all we do for them, and this is how they repay us! Leading their own lives as if they don’t owe us those lives.”

Eileen swung her hand out in agitation, spilling the coffee across the table. She sighed standing up and grabbing her case. She was due in court in an hour and half, some stupid reporter putting their nose where it shouldn’t be and trying to ‘expose’ Alvarez production. As if they were any match for Eileen’s tongue. “C’mon,” she said, not looking at the still pouting Anna, “let’s go see if we can convince that little brat how good you were to her.”

Eileen snarled when Anna beamed up at her, grumbling but not shaking Anna off as she slung her arm around Eileen’s elbow. Satisfaction curled in her chest, easing her need to kick something when she saw the waitress hurry to their table with a rag and step in a puddle of the liquid.

Need To Breath- Part Three

@supernotnaturalcas basically organised some drabbles and these lines work perfectly for P3 ^^

Part one
Part two

Prepare yoselfs

You smiled at your brother, your thirteen year old self full of hope for the world. Hope for you two. You loved your brother, more than anyone else in the world. Living in an orphanage wasn’t fun, but when you had a brother everything was slightly better.
You were both there for each other at all times. To hold in the cold and lonely nights, to tease and joke with at the table, to complain to and to laugh with. Family.

You both hunted still. It was a way of honouring your Mother. It was respectful to continue her line of work. You’d been working on a case she was yet to finish before…well…before she was gone.
You’d read over the scraps of newspaper and the notes she’d put together and figured out it was a pack of werewolves not far away.
You took the case.

But…you never finished the case.

There was one you left alone. You came back to the orphanage alone that night. 

Sam let go of Dean and slowly made his way over to you. You were hugging onto your brother as though he’d turn to powder if your grip changed. His limp and lifeless body was coated in deep crimson.

Sam’s heart ached at your shaking body and he sat down next to you, patiently waiting to see what you would do.
“Y/N…” He whispered, leaning forward to look directly into your eyes.

“He was my brother.” You sobbed and turned away from his gaze. But he pulled you into a hug. You didn’t look to see his expression, but you felt his head turn to look at Dean. 

At first you wanted out of his hold, but you stopped yourself and fell back into his arms. You let it out and cried in his embrace.

He held you close, letting you grief.

You weren’t paying attention to time but the room was darker and more silent than it was before. You’d stopped crying, but you hadn’t moved. Sam hadn’t either, he kept his protective hold of you, his shirt stained from the tears.
You glanced up, your eyes sore from crying, but Dean was no longer in the room.

“Come on,” Sam gently spoke “We need to go.” 

You nodded slowly, reluctant to leave. “Where?”

“The bunker?” Sam frowned as though stating the obvious.
“No…I can’t I…”
“I just can’t…”

“Please, sweetheart. At least for tonight, we can give him a proper burial.” Sam begged.
You tried to laugh bitterly but it came out as a choked sob. “He didn’t deserve any of this.” You muttered before standing up and leaving.

Your shirt was crusted from the dried blood, but you couldn’t care less. The Impala’s colour was fitting at this moment. You waited round the corner, knowing full well that Sam would be moving the body to the boot of the car.

“Y/N…” Dean’s voice was sheepish and full of guilt. You hadn’t heard him ever speak like that before.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care.” You sighed.

“i just want you to know that… I did what I had to do.”

“Why is that everyone’s excuse!? That doesn’t make it right!” Your sudden outburst took him back. Instantly your eyes were welling up with tears again.

He nodded “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
You stormed past him  “I’m not doing this. Not now.” 

Dean watched you turn the corner, a tear trickling down his cheek. Aggressively, he wiped it away. He lost your trust. Your love, maybe.
He took a deep breath, ran his hand over his stubble and bit his lip. He was going to make things right. He had to.

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tiny hamilton act 2 details, longer than the first one (with austin smith as burr, seen after groff left) (act 1 here)

  • jefferson shaking an ensemble member’s hand as he starts what did i miss and then wiping it on his shirt (cuz hes a dick)
  • i totally forgot about this in the act 1 post but during nonstop as angelica sings “don’t forget to write”, the turntable carries her away from hamilton and eliza, who is also standing on the turntable, replaces her
  • it’s been said before, but at the end of his part in cabinet battle #1, jefferson dropping his mic and madison catching it. also during cabinet battle #2 jefferson tilting his mic towards madison for “….france”
  • madison and jefferson being best friends basically and jefferson constantly turning to madison to deliver lines or to make :0 faces or to mouth stuff like “whaaaaat” and “holy shiiiiiiiit”.
  • also eliza and angelica seeing each other once she gets back to new york and running at each other from opposite sides of the stage laughing and shrieking. also during the end of that song while ham, eliza, and angelica are all singing different parts, they’re all holding hands
  • ham wrenching his hand away from angelica first on “i have to get this plan through congress” and then away from eliza on “i can’t stop until i get this plan through congress”
  • i went to the show with my thirteen year old brother and i honestly felt like i should have been covering his eyes during say no to this bc jasmine cephas jones and lin-manuel miranda were like 1 centimeter away from just straight up making out onstage
  • during room where it happens (my fav song of act 2) the choreography making parts of the song feel like a flashback in a movie bc blocking and choreography is repeated as burr tries to dissect hamilton’s interactions with mad and tjeffs (they did the same thing in satisfied)
  • after hamilton leaves with washington at the end of cabinet battle #2, burr coming on stage, talking to tjeffs (“it must be nice….it must be niice..”) and jefferson looking around himself then mouthing “are you talking to me”
  • madison only coming onstage in time to say “WHICH I WROTE” in response to the reference to the bill of rights
  • ham and gwash drinking wine during one last time. as washington talks more, hamilton drinks more. i swear he poured himself like 5 glasses of wine and by the end he was knocking them back like shots
  • hamilton signing his stack of anti adams pamphlets and dropping them off the top balcony into a red spotlight
  • tjeffs snatching the james reynolds letter out of burr’s hands to read it for himself. the absolute glee on his fucking face. tjeffs and madison being obviously confused by burr’s “no one else was in the room where it happened” and looking at each other behind his back
  • the lighting in hurricane changing from a pale yellow spotlight to an all-stage blue-green lighting in a split second, showing the ensemble frozen all around ham
  • eliza being conspicuously absent from the balcony during reynolds pamphlet and say no to this, even though she’d been sitting up there for nearly every other song. angelica getting UP IN ALEXANDER’S FACE as she tears him apart
  • eliza’s scream. i can’t articulate the power of that scream. i can’t. it’s impossible to describe. eliza also doesn’t even look at hamilton during it’s quiet uptown, not even when she takes his hand
  • burr’s fist pump after a guy says “like you could share a beer with him”. jefferson’s quick celebratory dab after hamilton endorses him. burr’s face slowly falling out of his confident smile as the news sinks in.
  • the duel letters being passed around the stage from person to person during your obedient servant. hamilton receiving one neatly folded paper from burr and sending back ten individual papers
  • eliza hugging hamilton from behind and resting her head on his shoulder during best of wives and best of women. the way she doesn’t let go of his hand until the last possible second
  • the ensemble repeating all their choreography from the songs hamilton reprises during his final monologue. the ensemble member who represents hamilton’s mother pausing and making eye contact with him on the stairs. the flurry of silent moving eventually shoving eliza into the center of the stage as she stares at hamilton, helpless, before walking away
  • hamilton staying onstage even after he’s been shot and walking, of his own volition, up the stairs to the balcony. hamilton pausing halfway up the stairs and turning backwards to look at burr for the final “the world was wide enough for both hamilton and me” before he finally keeps going
  • hamilton actually coming back onstage during the final song, walking up behind eliza as she turns the other way. the way it seems like they might miss each other completely, before she looks back and sees him and takes his hand
  • eliza’s final gasp and disbelieving, joyful smile as she sees the audience in the final seconds of the show

The ROMANOV Sisters
“On 17 July 1918, four young women walked down twenty-three steps into the cellar of a house in Ekaterinburg. The eldest was twenty-two, the youngest only seventeen. Together with their parents and their thirteen-year-old brother, they were all brutally murdered. Their crime: to be the daughters of the last Tsar and Tsaritsa of All the Russias.”