#fuck nai is such a drama queen though

[criscura]

reading ur knives tags like the morning paper i LOVE reading ur thoughts so true im nodding and shaking ur hand

IT'S A LOT there was a fuckin LOT going on in that scene and just. I mean knives was.,.... After his intro it was very hard to stop seeing him as the phantom of the opera, which made it tough to consider him truly intimidating for obvious reasons ((but DAMN if that doesn't also fit the narrative a little ;;))

Anywho I never thought he was really happy, even WHEN he had Vash, except for when they were kids

In The Watchers the main villain is this chimera made as an experimental weapon, and it was raised in a government lab alongside a really smart golden retriever intended to gather intel, before they both escape. You're following the guy who took in the dog while the creature (the outsider) hunts it down, cause it hates it. The outsider has this thing with people's eyes and it'll scratch them out every time it runs into someone, even if it's just a picture, which you find out when they find one of its little nests full of wrecked magazines and newspapers. In there are also pretty baubles it stole off lawns and from houses after it killed the people inside. You find out that, even though they were made in the same lab, everyone loved the golden since it was so cute but they were terrified of the outsider cause it was scary and ugly. It hated the golden and wanted to kill it out of jealousy, and scratches out everyone's eyes now so they can't see what it looks like anymore. You also find out that the only time they were both happy together was when they were watching Mickey Mouse cartoons. One of the baubles kept in its nest was a little Mickey toy, because it was the only happy memory it had when it was being raised.

Nai feels like that--he's not happy, he's never going to be happy again, and no one will ever love him the way they (and he) love Vash, not even Vash himself--but he's chasing the ghost of happiness by absolutely fucking insisting on the realization of the dream he made as a kid *when* he was happy because that's the best chance at an approximation of future happiness he's got. And anyway, if he can get Vash in on it, it's almost like that's confirming nai's belief that they were happy together and loved each other, because it's validating the vision of the much younger version of himself that he still wants to cling to

#there was some stuff about the newer season i didn't like #but MAN did it make vash and knives way more interesting and sympathetic than they came off before #and that was one of the only things i had trouble with for the other versions ;; #fuck nai is such a drama queen though #the cape? the SUIT???? #that's camp #the fucking organ #gosh #how much of this could we have avoided if they just got him involved in a drama club and taught him what D&D was #he needs an outlet and murder like #obviously isn't working out so great for him #Trigun

[iliaclwrites]

*bangs fist on desk* EDDIE AND CHEERLEADER ORIGIN STORY !!! please

here it is, kids! the first chapter of the eddie x cheerleader saga!!!

Eddie hated assigned readings. The drama kids always did too much, they always dragged out the sentences like they were fuckin' Larry Olivier, and expected applause after every word. The sports kids, on the other hand, barely spat the lines out from their troglodyte mouths. The popular kids delivered everything in monotone and willed it to be over so they could get back to giggling with their friends. The nerdy kids stuttered so much Eddie wasn't sure the lines were in iambic pentameter anymore. All in all, he had very little faith in the acting careers of any of the kids in this classroom. 

So when he'd seen who he'd been tossed together with as the rest of the Montague gang, he wasn't exactly foaming at the mouth. He had no idea why he'd been thrown into Romeo, but he wasn't going to question it, he had fun. He had about the same amount of chemistry with the Montague boys as he would've had with a wet fish wearing his grandma's panties, so when it came to his lines with Mercutio (you, some cheerleader girl with hair in space buns, mom jeans, a lace tank and a letterman thrown over your shoulders), he was practically bowled over. 

“Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy, I will bear the light,” Eddie said, raising his hand into the air. 

You let out a tinkling laugh, and leaned back in your chair, grinning at him. “Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance!” You gestured out into the room with outstretched hands, and smirked wolfishly when he replied with the next line. 

Eddie almost didn’t feel the next few lines go by, it felt so natural. You were laughing at his words as though they were genuinely funny, and pressing your chin into you hands while he spoke, as though you were actually considering his lines. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

He told it to fuck off.

When it came to the Queen Mab speech, Eddie nearly fell out of his seat when you hopped onto the chair, swinging your letterman jacket around her shoulders like a cape. “O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you!” you crowed, pointing at him with one perfectly-manicured fingernail. He was frozen. The speech washed over him as he stared at you, some freakish cheerleading acting angel, haloed by halogen school lights. 

“And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,” you whispered, brandishing a highlighter like a sword. “Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, of healths five-fathom deep–” You stalked toward him, and Eddie had to school his face into a bemused, Romeo-esque expression, smiling up at you nervously as you finally came up to him. “This is she—” 

“Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! Thou talk'st of nothing!” Eddie sputtered out, holding a hand to keep you at bay. 

You pivoted perfectly, your letterman fluttering behind her. “True. I talk of dreams.” You grinned at him ferally, and Eddie could see his poor, rabbit heart getting crushed between those perfect teeth. 

Mr. Tracey called for a halt for the reading, to analyse the Queen Mab speech, and you dropped Eddie a quick curtsy before traipsing back to your seat. Oh, he was so fucked. So entirely fucked. 

– 

It had exploded into a fully blown pantomime performance. Eddie was crouched by Mr. Tracey’s desk, cradling your head in his arms as you hacked a dramatic death-rattle into the air. 

“Where is my page?” you demanded, looking around for the nerd boy who played the page. He blinked, looking up from behind Coke-bottle glasses. “Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.” 

Eddie huffed a laugh, and smiled down at you wanly. “Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much,” he insisted, and you reached a hand up to his face, the scratch of your baby pink nails featherlike against his cheek as you gave your next few lines. 

“They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, and soundly too: your houses!” you managed, and fell back into Eddie’s arms. He smelled of leather and ash. You smelled of caramel and hairspray. He stared down at you, despondent, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and cradling your head as he stared up at the sky. 

“I believe,” intoned Mr. Tracey from behind his desk, “Mercutio exits with Benvolio.” 

“But it’s so much more interesting this way, Mr. T,” you complained, before banging your head on Eddie’s chin as you tried to get up. “Ow!” 

“Shit, sorry,” Eddie muttered, scrambling away from you. “Doesn’t this give Romeo more impetus to be mad, though?” he asked, turning to face the teacher. “Like, if someone killed my best friend, I’d be more likely to kill their friend.” 

“Yeah!” you agreed by his side, and Eddie’s fingers itched to reach out for you. “The way I see it, this is the perfect reason for Romeo to go apeshi– crazy,” you amended, “and start killing people.” 

“That’s not how the Bard wrote it,” Mr. Tracey said, and you shrugged, returning to your seat. Eddie still had a few more scenes to go, but even when he was talking to his Juliet (a theatre kid that seemed to have an endless collection of hats, seriously this girl wore a different hat every day, Eddie just respected the hustle at this point) he found his eyes drifting over to you. 

At the end of the class, once everyone had packed up, Eddie loitered by the doorway and swung over to you when you were leaving. He took you in again – hair tied up today, cheer uniform already on for when you’d have practice later in the afternoon. “Hey,” he said lamely. 

You paused, looking at him up and down. “...Hey.” 

He held out a hand. “Eddie.” 

You shook it, and introduced yourself. You didn’t let go. “Palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss,” you teased, and then dropped his grip, wiggling your fingers at him in a wave. 

You both stood there in the silent room. You cleared your throat. He started at the sound. “Right. Uh. I just wanted to say it’s a shame you’re dead, pom poms,” he said lamely. “Like, that was fun.” 

You smiled at him slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.” You slung your bag over your shoulder and looked up at him from under your eyelashes, extending a hand to him again. He was too polite to comment on the fact it was shaking, ever so slightly. “Give me my sin again?” 

He slotted his fingers into yours, briefly. “You kiss by the book.”

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," you shot back, and headed for the door. His breath caught when you stopped, and turned back to him, expression unsure. "Practice ends at six," you tell him, and nearly sigh with relief when his eyes light up. "I'll be the one in the cheer uniform."

"I'll be the one by the van," he said, weakly. What the fuck. Holy shit. This was not his life. "Anything in particular you want to do?"

"Oh, you know," you said, leaning against the doorframe and inspecting your nails. "Let's say we get into a messy, sloppy relationship that causes our respective houses to end a lifelong feud and learn the meaning of true love."

Eddie tapped a finger to his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought. "I dunno," he said, and his heart faltered when he saw how totally nervous you looked. "Will there be a weird apothecary to sell us a potion that's gonna make us look asleep?"

"Uh, duh."

"Then it's a date, pom poms."

#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #i should probably make a tag for this series ig #s: two households

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine you are the good girl Aemond Targaryen needs.(III)

Warnings: sexual tension/drama/fluff

***

You are found in the gardens, hair tied according to the fashion of the court. Today, you are dressing in another shade of pink with details in red, white and always green. As Queen Helaena is playing with her twins and one of her favourite ladies, you stay in a careful distance, watching the scene with a smile in your lips.

But the rare moment you are not spending it thinking why would a prince of the blood offend your honor and dignity by asking if you are a witch--a question that got you restless for two nights, since your mind has also been troubled by the desires of your heart; perhaps he is misunderstood, there might be good in him, I can feel within...-- goes to waste when he shows up.

You gasp discreetly. You assumed--or rather lied to yourself--that you would not see the prince again since not only you were offended, but he came to see you are not like his former paramours and therefore unworthy of his time.

How foolish of me for thinking so. He is the king and the queen's brother. Goodness me, Y/N. Where did you get your head into?

Yet, after the prince played with the children and greeted his sister warmly, his eyes turn at you. Oh, if only you knew! Aemond knows he underestimated you, a mistake he does not intend to make again. But not only that, his mind has been plagued with guilt for letting you go this easily, for allowing you to leave the room offended.

Nay. The prince should know better how to be dignified of you. If you could read his thoughts, you'd find them to be a whirlwind of words in a tormented mind and a vicious heart.

But because you cannot read his masked face or his composed manners, you don't know how pained his soul is.

"Lady Y/N", Aemond finally comes at you. Slowly and in no rush, despite the impatient boiling in his blood and the desperation in his heart. "May I have a word with you?"

"I must not stay in private with a man unaccompanied", you tell him gently, though you don't like how cold these words may sound.

"I do not intend to steal you away from my sister's retinue", Aemond snaps back with a side smirk that makes you mirror it in your lips, however unwilligly.

He offers you his arm and as you take it, the two of you start a stroll around the green walls of white roses and yellow flowers that are located nearby trees and pomerades.

"My behavior last time we met was not very appropriated to a lady of your station", so he whispers. Aemond refuses to meet your gaze, aware there is surprise in your y/c eyes. "I am thus forced to acknowledge that I was not the best of the men you deserve."

You place your hand over his wrist and caress it, making him look at you. How strange to receive gentleness from you. The perplexity in his eyes tells you that Aemond is not accostumed to such gestures. Or to apologize at all.

"Did you think I would not forgive you, prince? Is that why you are looking at me like that?"

Aemond chuckles.

"By the maker, little wonder why you and my sister get along well. I thought purity and kindness only existed in one spirit and that would be Helaena's." His eyes linger in the way they beseech yours. "I am cruel, Lady Y/N. I had mistresses. I killed my own nephew. I started a fucking war. And yet, here I am. On my knees, praying that you take me as I am or send me away to suffer endlessly in the torments of the seven hells."

You chuckle at his words, though parting the gaze away in the moment where Aemond hopes to read either hope or damnation in you.

"I admit I have little experience in the world", you tell him. "Or any at all to judge the doings of anyone at all. But I know you are hurt because no one listens to you, my prince. Who am I to judge you for what you've done? Maybe you were reckless, maybe you did not take in consideration where your actions would lead you. Nonetheless, you are not your past. I am not your mistresses either. I am merely me."

Aemond is astonished by the softness in your words, the serenity with which you speak them. But when you look back into his eyes, you know you are lost. For good. Because you find yourself in them. In him.

***

There is another feast again. This time for the court only. You are attending it as a maid to Queen Helaena. The king seems to have noticed you--as well as other men present--much to the annoyance of Aemond. It is when he stands abruptly and moves right to where you are.

"My fair lady Y/N Y/LN", he says in a tone louder than he usually uses. His mother, the dowager queen, holds her breath: last time Aemond decided to be this imprudent, it ended very, very bad.

It seems most of the presents--except you and Helaena--are sharing this thought. Aegon's eyebrows are epically raised. In his eyes, lies the unposed question: what do you want now, Aemond?

"I would like to courtship you."

Aegon, naturally, would not waste the opportunity to tease his brother.

"What about Mistress Rivers, Aemond? Is she aware of the change of your...uh...affections?"

You blush and part the gaze you have been sharing with Aemond upon the mention of...her. It is no surprising to hear of his former paramour's name, but this time it makes your gentle and sweet heart experience a different insecurity that you detest to feel: jealousy.

"She is where she ought to be", Aemond snaps rather rispidly. "I am not here for her. I am here for Lady Y/N."

Every eye turns at you and at him. You pretend to busy yourself with your fingers. Must the prince be so…indiscreet? Your chest seems heavier, your face is bright as pink.

In the meantime, the dowager queen watches the events roll right under her nose quite shocked. It is partly a relief that Aemond is not with that woman anymore, but on the other hand, not to be told of his intentions makes the situation more embarrassing.

“I had no idea you were up to make some fuss over a mistress, but if you want my permission…” The king sighs dramatically. “Well, I shall give it.”

“Husband”, Helaena whispers. “Lady Y/N is a decent woman. She must not be turned into a mistress.”

Although you are very thankful for Helaena standing for you, which makes your eyes go slightly teary for this demonstration of loyalty, you fear that Aegon might not take this well.

But you are rather surprised by Aegon’s sly smirk.

Oh, no. What does His Grace have in mind?

“I have a better plan, brother”, Aegon beams.

The dowager queen sighs heavily, your father pales and Aemond furrows his eyebrows.

“Speak your terms, Your Grace.”

“Since you are so willingly to court Lady Y/N Y/LN, why don’t you marry her instead? It’s more than time for you to settle down.”

“Aegon…”

“It’s either that or I will make her my mistress. What’s going to be?”

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Aemond knows he would rather suffer a thousand deaths before letting you be ruined by the king. For your surprise, however, the prince does not take long before saying firmly:

“I will make Lady Y/N my wife. And I demand you give us Dragonstone… Your Grace”, he side smirks.

Aegon pretends to roll his eyes before smiling widely.

“So it shall be done.”

Before you know, breathing becomes too difficult and you pass out.

(To be continue)

#ewan mitchell #Aemond Targaryen #Aemond #house targaryen #fire and blood #house of the dragon #Aemond x female reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fic

[uweiy]

I'm intrigued by Love is Science? but know nothing about it. Can you give me a run down on what kind of thing to expect and who it might appeal to? Thank you!! 😁

Ooooo boi *gremlin smile* I'm glad you asked. You've entered the dragon's den, broken the dam and thus this post turned out to be a monster so I'm gonna link here another post from @accidentallyadramablog which imo gives a nice (and short) overview.

That said let's get into

Love is Science?

Summary :

Yan Fei is a the CEO of the Love is Science marriage agency, that matches people based on scientific data. Hsuan Yu, 8 years younger than her, is a promising young hairstylist who has been in love with her thoughout their entire childhood when she has only ever seen him like a little brother.

Unexpectedly they meet again. Between the way they've each built their lives and how Yong Yan Fei's ex husband still looms over Yan Fei's life, how will their relationship develop this time around ?

Now,

just reading that summary I know what you're thinking.

Indeed, if you have some experience with dramas, you might recognize some TYPICAL TYPICAL tropes – let's get them out of the way :

love triangle (though we all know who she is going to end up with don't we)

childhood friends

'noona romance'

And they are every bit as present and as trope-ey as you would expect.

However, as they say, the devil is in the details.

And particularly, in the side characters. Let me give you a quick rundown of the lot of them :

As such, we follow the stories of multiple relationships that develop parallel to one another.

The relationships

• Yan Fei/ Hsuan Yu : Not much needs to be added I think. Their storyline might be the most predictable but they are pretty sweet and heartwarming. pining for like 12 years though poor Hsuan Yu. Anyway you can enjoy it or find it boring or but you can't hate it.

• Mark/Ouwen : Noooow we're getting to it. Their dynamic is so... Refreshing and unique. Confident gay with a soft heart and dumb disaster bisexual I mean *chef kiss*👌delicious

After the disasters of their first meetings, it's a cat and dog relationship where Ouwen is the hsssssss don't touch me– cat and Mark is the golden retriever trailing after him not really realizing the rampage he's creating in Ouwen's heart. while Ouwen is like "Remind me why the FUCK I caught feelings again ?".

IDK it just has everything 'Enemies' to friends to lovers, (not actually) unrequited love, pining, sweet moments, jealousy, feelings realization, snarky banter... What more could one want.

• Cho Nai Hui / You Fu : they are. So. So sweet. Both are older and have experience, and as such they are not so naive or stupid as the youngsters. Them sharing their life experiences and going on dates like typically teenagers (in movies or TV shows anyway) would is refreshing to see and really really heartwarming.

• Liu Sheng Ying/ ??? Her ex ? : The show hinted at a wlw storyline and this arc seems to have JUST begun. Basically Sheng Ying's ex comes to Love is Science as a client and requests Sheng Ying as an advisor, while Sheng Ying still seems heartbroken over her. I can't WAIT to see how it develops.

The friendships :

Something I greatly appreciate is that both the romantic relationships AND the friendships have a great importance in the drama.

• Joanna and Yan Fei : Jo, queen Jo 👑. She's just here to gossip, get all the gossip and be the voice of reason and we love her for it. You can see how comfortable they are around each other and how they were there for each other during tough times and still are. Kudos to the actresses because I believed the characters were besties in a heartbeat.

• Hsuan Yu and Mark : they are honestly... Such polar opposites you kinda wonder how they became friends but they are and it works perfectly.

Hsuan Yu still hasn't gotten he maybe shouldn't take Mark's advice, and Mark still hasn't gotten that he, definitely should take Hsuan Yu's. It also enables to develop a more playful and mischievous side to Hsuan Yu, giving him more depth?

• Ouwen and Sheng Ying: rivalry to reluctant solidarity to friends-but-i-will-deny-it-if-asked to just friends. IT'S GREAT

I also ejoy the fact that these multiple storylines are allowed to coexist. The romantic ones, the friendships, older, younger, m/f m/m and f/f like take your pick !! And tbh a WLW storyline ?????? These are so scarce I will take anything.

The recurring themes :

The show more or less subtly touches on some topics/issues, to which the dating aspect contributes to.

A non exhaustive list would be

Divorce, and how divorced women can be viewed as failures for some reason

How successful men over 30 are sought after but successful women after 30 are somehow deemed undatable

Preconceived notions and homophobia

And beyond the topics, there's just things like... Joanna not being interested in long term relationships nor wanting to get married, reporting sexual harassment, older people going on dates.... I'm not saying it's a groundbreaking activist drama –which is not really what I was looking for– I just appreciate the fact that it is a pretty mainstream drama and that these things are there.

Mad respect if you've made it up to here ! but we're not quite done yet.

The cast and crew :

The other element that made this drama stand out for me besides the side characters is the cast.

It might be weird that such a meta thing impacts the appreciation of the show but it did, for me at least.

📣📣TMI WARNING 📣📣

For me what happened is I stumbled onto Mark and Ouwen cuts on YouTube, then somehow onto the behind the scenes. They weren't subbed at the time so I could barely understand a word of what they were saying, thus I'm not sure what but something about how the rest of the actors, the director and the crew were interacting just told me it was a show worth watching or at least checking out.

📣📣END OF TMI📣📣

The cast honestly seems to have a blast and to have, how to say it, come together really well. It seems like most of them have become genuinely friends, or despite differences in personality have truly enjoyed working with one another and with the rest of the crew, and it shows.

Where it's lacking

In my opinion the show does have some aspects where it underperforms.

As previously mentioned, the main plot is kinda tropey, furthermore, in a drama typical fashion when something is about to get resolved, immediately something else happens. Nothing unexpected from a drama though.

The pacing : Some moments of the main plot especially dragged on, so I admit I skipped through some parts.

Because I feel so strongly about all the characters though, I don't really mind the previously mentioned points. I just think it's a shame because I feel like if it had been crafted a little bit better it could have made the show go from an 8/10 good drama to an 11/10 friggin amazing drama easy.

Lastly, there is a pretty unequal time distribution so Yan Fei and Hsuan Yu do tend to occupy the most part of an episode. However some episodes are more centered on some pairings (like ep 11 that will probably have an important Mark/Ouwen part).

Overall

it's a drama that warms my heart, as simple as that. It's not that deep, it's pretty funny, the acting ranges from good to excellent and I have taken a liking to a lot of the characters, which is what I think fuels my interest for the drama.

And I feel like it managed to attract a wide range of audiences because the romances and relationships are so diverse. Whether you watch the show for its entirety or for one aspect/storyline/character is entirely up to you and I feel like the creators of the drama are aware of it as well : and you can easily find subbed compilations about each specific pairing on Settv's official YouTube channel.

Take that aspect that you like–if you find one of course–and enjoy it, that is all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What's left to say besides.... 🎉🎊 Congratulations for making it to the end of this lengthy post !

#I add a tmi warning in the middle as if this entire post wasn't one lengthy tmi lol #long post #love is science? #戀愛是科學 #lian ai shi ke xue #tw drama #taiwan drama #taiwanese drama #honestly thank you for this opportunity to talk about it #it made me happy heh heh heh #oh and if anyone else of the 15 people who like the show want to add stuff share your thoughts or highjack this post go ahead #lis?

[darkcolinodonorgasm]

Arm’d with Hell flames and fury all at once (1/2)

A/N: helloooooo there! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY @kmomof4 !!! My dear, may your day be beautiful and wonderful as you are ♥ This is my @cspupstravaganza contribution, but also my birthday gift for you. Well, part of it, since I also have another event coming up and this thing escalated a biiiiiiiit too much. I still hope you like it :3 (also, sorry, but no Walsh in here hehe)

Big, ginormous shoutout to @awkwardnessandbaseball and @snowbellewells for helping me with this fic - apparently, using not one, but two sets of eyes to go over your fic means you don’t need your glasses anymore. Thank you, dear ladies, you are awesome ♥

Summary: It should’ve been easy: hike up the hill, vanish the ghost, go back home, possibly without being killed or possessed in the meantime. But fighting monsters had never been easy, not even when hunters made it appear so. When hunting, things never go as planned, and sure as hell the girl you like doesn’t bring a puppy along, and you surely aren’t keeping very important secrets from your friends. Too bad said secrets won’t remain such for long, and that the dog hiding in the girl’s backpack isn’t exactly a regular dog.

Loosely based on this prompt.

Read on ao3 - ffnet

«Bloody ley lines.»

Killian looked at the sky. No, he glared at it.

Storybrooke, Maine, an almost deserted town in the middle of nowhere, next to the ocean. Peculiarity of said little town was its location. No, not quite the middle of nowhere, but its longitude and latitude, which corresponded to the intersection of several ley lines. Not just two. Several.

«You say something, Jones?»

Will's voice startled him, and all his gracefulness left him, sending him almost face first on the muddy ground.

At least his reflexes weren't useless, unlike his sixth sense, or whatever one might call his superpower of sorts. The ley lines kept fucking it up, to put it nicely, always messing with his perception of supernatural beings.

Ah, yes. Right. The supernatural beings.

Well, ley lines were important vessels of pure magic, their intersections places where witches and warlocks performed rituals - and sometimes even summoned… things.

Said intersections were also the most common places where to find dangerous creatures.

Perhaps dangerous wasn't the right adjective, though. Or rather, it was, but much like there were evil witches, there were also good ones. And werewolves, too. Vampires… jury was still out on that one.

«Nay, Scarlett, it’s not as if I have any air left in my lungs to even breathe!»

That was a lie, of course. Not only because he’d just formed a sentence, but because of the ley lines as well.

Why he’d stayed in Storybrooke was beyond him. Well, that was another lie.

He looked back, where a blonde young woman was struggling with the steep slope, her palms and fingers red and covered in scratches as she tightened her grip on the lowest branch she could reach.

Killian bit his lower lip, ultimately letting himself slip lower to help her up. When she gave him a grateful smile, Killian felt all the air leave his lungs. So much for still being able to breathe. That happened quite often when Emma Swan was involved. Or was not. Even just a mention of her name was enough to make his heart beat wildly in his chest. And leave him breathless, apparently.

«You are all drama queens.» Will rolled his eyes, resuming the hike.

«Do you think I’d go to hell if I shot him?»

It took Killian a few moments before realizing Emma was speaking to him, too focused on her hand resting on his forearm. When he did, his complexion turned as red as the berries growing in a bush a few feet from them «I-I think they’d make you a Saint instead.»

Smooth, Jones, bloody smooth.

The faint blush colouring the apples of her cheeks made him grin.

«Hey, lovebirds,» Robin shouted from way above them, somewhere beyond the trees in their line of sight, «stop whatever you are doing that’s scaring the squirrels and keep walking!»

Killian choked on air whilst Emma’s face was so red it started to radiate heat.

The two of them being lovebirds was a common joke among their friends, borne out of nowhere - or so they thought, because they totally didn’t yearn or make eyes at each other - and no one ever let the occasion to say something about them slip away. For their part, Emma and Killian just rolled their eyes, flushing red, of course, but dismissed those jokes with a shrug or a wave of the hand.

«You think in Heaven they’ll have space for two Saints if we kill them both?» Emma muttered, adjusting the strap of the admittedly huge backpack she was carrying. It wasn’t like her to carry such bulky baggage. Usually, in fact, all she required were several daggers hidden all over her body - and Killian definitely had never dreamt of searching for those daggers himself, ever - and the occasional wooden stick to stab vampires with. And her trusted gun with magazines of silver bullets. She couldn't possibly be carrying a crossbow in there. Besides, there was something about it that didn't sit quite right with him, now that he looked at it more closely.

His attention snapped back to Emma herself when she moved forward, using him as a support. Why couldn't they go find haunted houses near the sea? Or take the actual road to get there? It wasn't as if ghosts could escape the confines of the property they haunted.

But no, Robin had suggested they take the unmarked trail through the woods, never mentioning the climb to get to the tumbledown house.

«We'd better go now. Neither of us is as good at tracking as those two.»

Killian quirked a brow at Emma's words. «Speak for yourself, love. I am indeed very good at navigating the sea, whether it be made of water or wood.»

Emma looked at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement. She opened her mouth to say something surely cutting but was interrupted by a piercing whistle.

«If I'm sent to Hell, Jones, I'll drag you down with me.»

With that, Emma left a gulping and an alarmingly pale Killian behind.

 -/-

 The house was exactly the one a brochure would assure you was haunted. Which, by the way, it was, but whenever real estate agents claimed a ghost wandered through the halls, all they meant was the abundance of whispers the wind generated and the sinister creaking sounds created by whatever phenomenon had the almost rotten wooden floorboards emit said noise. And they never talked about the cottage deep inside the forest nearby, into which a couple had just moved in with their newborn child and the crying sound one could hear was not some kind of ghost of a child.

However, the houses listed as haunted, were never actually so. This one, instead, was. What was worse, was that it wasn’t haunted by a mere spirit, it was haunted by a bloody witch.

Killian could feel it, he could feel her and her power. It was a welcome side effect of his nature, to be able to sense supernatural beings. In the case of Emma Swan, it was a curse. He should’ve told her. He should’ve told her many things, first of all that she was a witch, or half-witch, he had no idea who her parents were, much like she didn’t.

But, of course, he hadn’t, and now it was too late.

The moment they’d settled their eyes on the house, they all knew something was wrong, really wrong. Whilst neither Robin or Will were in possession of any kind of powers, they both were seasoned hunters, and whereas their skills were more indicated to hunt down wendigos or woodland creatures, they were deadly against most of all the other beings. They still hunted down werewolves, if they needed to, but Robin’s men had stipulated a truce with those creatures after his son, Roland, was bitten, turning into a were himself. It wasn’t easy, but everyone was making an effort in the name of their love for Roland.

Emma and Killian weren’t exactly part of Robin’s men, they were loners - in more ways than one. Given their young age, both of them not even being twenty-five years old yet, Robin had taken them in. Sort of. They still lived their separate lives, but they hunted together, giving Killian and Emma a purpose.

All around them, the place was quiet, too quiet, too still, unnaturally so.

Therefore, when Emma’s backpack started to whine, three pair of eyes glared at her - in Killian’s case, stared; he wasn’t able to glare at her, unless he was extremely pissed off. It didn't happen often, not with Emma, at least.

Her usually pale complexion turned a bright pink; for the first time, Killian witnessed Emma Swan being truly and utterly embarrassed, so much so that her blush had reached her hairline.

«What the bloody buggerin' hell do you have in that bloody backpack?» Will hissed, moving to stand next to her, wrenching one of the straps from her shoulder.

Emma hissed, clearly both in pain and anger, her eyes reducing to two slits. «What the fuck, Scarlett?»

Her protest fell on deaf ears because the backpack was literally torn open and something black fell on the ground in a heap of four… five legs? No, no, there were four of those, and a tail. A long one. A, black, fluffy one. It wasn’t the only fluffy thing, though, everything of that creature was black and fluffy and-

«Why the bloody hell did you bring that bloody thing here of all the bloody places on this bloody buggering earth?»

The amount of “bloody” Will managed to insert in that sentence was nothing compared to whatever bloody that creature could do. Killian’s eyes widened when he realized what it was, something he’d never seen but knew about. And the stories he’d heard did not have a happy ending.

«Fenrir is a dog, as you can clearly see, Scarlett. Do I need to tell Whale to check your eyes?» Emma snapped, staring daggers at the man as she knelt down to check on the pup, who was wagging his tail. When he started to lick Emma’s fingers, Killian sucked in a breath. Everything he was seeing was making all his beliefs on the matter crumble.

«Swan,» he tried, stepping closer. He needed to warn her, he needed to-

The dog turned his head, his whole body going still the moment his golden brown eyes fell on Killian. It was as if he’d suddenly heard his master’s words.

An odd and chilling sensation settled deep inside Killian’s bones.

And then, the dog’s eyes began to glow a deep, dark red.

«What-»

«Bloody hell!»

«Fuck.»

Killian couldn’t even find it in himself to sigh, too worried about what would happen now.

«What the hell is that?» Robin finally decided to intervene, the grip on his bow getting firmer, the fingers of his free hand twitching, clearly desiring to notch an arrow and shoot the creature.

«That, Robin, is a hellhound.»

Everyone stared at Killian, jaws dropping in disbelief. «He’s a what?» Emma asked, pulling her hand away and standing. When she stepped away from the dog, something inside of Killian died a bit. If this was her reaction to a simple dog, she would cut him out completely once she knew about his true nature.

«How do you know that?»

«Yes, darling, how do you know?»

Killian whirled around, dread tightening its icy fingers around him like a vice, making him feel as if he'd been drowning and the water had frozen over all around him, encasing him in its deadly embrace.

He knew that voice, and he should've thought about it before embarking on this let's-hunt-a-ghost adventure.

His brother's voice was damning him in seven different languages from the ether for forgetting about the woman who'd killed him and their mother. The woman Killian had killed.

«Eloise,» he spat, unconsciously moving in front of Emma. They didn't know what Eloise was capable of; they didn't know how dangerous she was. There was an absurd lack of knowledge lately, it might have been better if they'd just forgotten all about monsters and whatnot for the rest of their lives, especially since said lives seemed to shorten by the minute.

The fluctuating ghost squinted, glaring at Killian as her upper lip curled in a light snarl. Killian's mouth quirked, almost betraying a smile. Oh, she still hated to be called with the pseudonym she'd used to infiltrate his family's life.

There was always a drop of contentment when you managed to succeed in irritating your adversary when facing certain death.

«Jones,» Robin cut in, fingers brushing the feathers at the back of the arrow he’d grabbed, «how?»

Killian knew he wasn’t asking him how he knew Eloise, not now: he was asking him how to take her down, if he knew where her bones were buried or if he knew another way to defeat her.

The ghost tilted her head, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. «Yes, Jones, do you know how to banish the ghost of the woman you killed?»

Between the four of them, they’d killed their fair share of creatures, some more dangerous than others, therefore being accused of another death wasn’t strange. It was, however, when said accusation came straight from the victim.

Killian growled low in his throat. «I only wish I had considered you’d find a way to come back and torment me after killing my family.»

Eloise laughed, a deafening sound that still filled his nightmares. «Oh, Killian, you still are the same naïve young man you were years ago,» she patronized him, fluctuating closer and extending her right arm to take his chin between her thumb and forefinger. Even if she couldn’t touch him, his nature allowed him to sense her as if she was still alive. «There is no way a witch as powerful as your mother could care for someone, not even the fruits of her own womb.» She pulled away, laughing quietly to herself. «Especially when they are the spawn of the demon who broke her heart.»

A massive shadow flew past Killian. It would’ve hit the witch straight in the chest if she’d been human. The hellhound, now looking more like a huge black wolf instead of a pup, got back on his legs, face low as if ready to attack her again, ready to protect his Master.

It wasn’t a coincidence the hellhound had showed up today, not the day she had showed up again, haunting him so to finish what she’d started five years ago. At the time, he’d been just a lad of seventeen, the magic from his mother’s side reacting to his raging hormones and his father’s inheritance presenting just then, threatening to corrupt his soul.

A loud laugh echoed through the open space of what used to be a beautiful garden, Killian was sure of that. It reminded him-

«Bloody bastard,» he seethed, recognizing this place as his childhood home. He was certain it wasn’t the same place, not when that was in the outskirts of London and was kept by a nice butler named Smee. No, this was an illusion, an admirable one, especially for a dead witch.

Bloody fuck.

«We’re not alone,» Killian realized in a whisper, warning his friends at the same time.

As if summoned, cloaked figures emerged from the shadows cast by the trees.

«A coven,» Robin breathed, clearly scared. There was little that scared the man like a witch did, his beloved wife had died by the hand of one of the most cruel ones, whose half-sister bewitched him during a full moon night and conceived a daughter. Said daughter was now part of the Merry Men, had no ounce of magic flowing through her veins, and was a good archer herself. Robin’s hatred for witches was another reason why Killian had stayed silent about Emma and himself. Funny how now he wished he’d let her cultivate her magic. It would’ve made it easier.

The scenery around them changed drastically, more ruins scattered all over the place, the area like a green desert devoured by poison ivy and briars erupting from the center of the earth. A quick glance was all Killian needed to recognize that plant, that magical remedy Eloise had claimed would cure Liam’s poisoned heart, a heart she’d poisoned herself to keep Killian away from him, to make him go against his mother’s wishes and ask Eloise for help. He’d been partially responsible for his family’s death, but had thought he’d avenged them. What a fool.

Killian’s jaw was clenched so tightly, it felt like it would disintegrate in a fraction of a second. «Do not touch that plant,» he warned his friends, hoping he could still call them ‘friends’ and that they would listen to him. At least about the dreamshade.

Warm fingers laced through his. Looking down, Killian found himself shocked to realize the hand holding his belonged to Emma. That shouldn’t be happening, she should’ve been scared, ready to kill him and pissed because he’d not told her the truth about his nature.

Instead, Emma just smiled, reassuring. «Let’s end this bitch and make sure there’ll be a later in which you’ll reply to all my questions, alright?»

Killian almost laughed. That was his Swan, the woman who’d bewitched him. What a relief it was that she’d not done that literally. He found himself nodding, squeezing her hand in return. She was real, she was alive. «There’s something you need to know, love,» Killian murmured in a hurry, knowing that Eloise was watching, listening, waiting for the right moment.

As if she was dying to prove just that, Eloise laughed. «Oh, my, Killian, you haven’t told her?» A tsk left her lips, head shaking; the way her many braids moved made her mane look like Medusa’s, evil snakes ready to end a life. Even if she was a ghost, the witch was powerful, Killian had known then and he knew it now, standing once more in front of her. She was crueler than most, and Killian had known his fair share of evil creatures. It was surprising, even with the past he had with her, that she’d managed to create a coven of witches clearly ready to reach her even in the land of the dead.

A thought shot through his mind, but was quickly cast aside when Emma spoke again, her nails digging into the flesh at his wrist. It was all she could do to keep herself in check, to restrain herself from asking Eloise what Killian had hidden from her. Unexpectedly, the hellhound growled. Killian cast him a quick glance, wondering. The hound snapped his head towards him, red eyes glowing in understanding. A thrill ran down Killian’s spine, excitement and terror mingling together.

«Oh, I don’t think so,» Eloise said, snapping Killian out of his thoughts. «Gretel,» she called, and the hound was enveloped in briars of nightshade, the thorns magically elongated to penetrate through his thick fur and pierce the skin.

The hound howled in despair, a blood-curdling sound which shot painfully through Killian’s heart. There were legends about hellhounds, that they were born with a demon and would stand by them for eternity, and even if they weren’t linked from birth, they could serve under only one demon forever, becoming their companion.

As far as he knew, Killian had never seen the dog before, but in that moment he couldn’t deny it: they were bonded, somehow.

And, somehow, they had to find a way to free him. The poison wouldn’t kill him, but it would make him weak, and the tight grip the briars had on him made it impossible for the hound to move.

He was their only chance to destroy Eloise for good.

Unless, of course, a miracle happened, but “up there”, they had never been much for helping.

A choked scream and the dull sound of a body falling to the leaves-covered ground made Killian look towards the treeline, where a cloak was gathered in a heap, its hood not revealing the face beneath. It wasn’t the body itself that caught the attention, but the arrow stuck in the woman’s chest, emerging proudly from it.

He couldn’t help but look back, disbelieving eyes settling on a quite smug Robin.

The man just shrugged, totally looking like one of those western characters that would’ve blown the steam away from a Colt after a perfect shot. «Zelena was a bit helpful,» he said, grabbing another arrow, arrow that was apparently capable to penetrate through some magical shield and that the witches couldn’t just push away with a wave of their hand.

He didn’t want to think about it much.

Eloise looked enraged.

«As you can see, Eloise-»

«It’s Mother Gothel,» she screeched like a banshee. In less than a second, a clap of thunder pierced the air and their ears.

She wasn’t supposed to have powers. She was also supposed to be dead, Killian hissed to himself. But no, it wasn’t her magic, it was her coven’s. How she could master it, however, was a mystery he didn’t care to uncover, too afraid it would corrupt him irredeemably. All his life, Killian had walked a thin line, like a funambulist balancing on a tightrope, trying not to succumb to the darkness inside him calling, tempting him. And oh, was he so tempted right now. But he couldn’t: he had too much at stake.

For the right cause, though, he might.

«Funny,» Killian ground through his teeth, «you’ve entered my life as Eloise, and left it as such. I know no Gothel, and you certainly are no mother.»

The moment the last word left his mouth, Killian raised his left arm, creating a barrier between them and Eloise’s ghost, keeping the witches on the other side as well.

For a few, interminable seconds, nobody spoke. It was as if time had stopped completely.

«Why the bloody hell didn’t you do that earlier?» Will asked in indignation.

Killian whirled around and looked at him, shock marring his features even if he was quick to school it. «And risk being hit by one of Rob's arrows? Thank you, but no, thank you.»

Will huffed, shaking his head. He was clearly about to say something snarky but a whimper left him speechless. What left Killian speechless, though, was Will striding to the briars and cutting them with impressive accuracy, careful not to touch the thorns. Killian had to bite his tongue not to warn him about them again.

Once free, the hound shook his whole body, black blood leaking from the puncture wounds and darkening the fur. Killian felt his heart ache at the sight, the dog’s pain seeping into his soul as if it was his own.

Still maintaining the barrier up, aware of the numerous spells being cast against it. Storing up his magic for years might have made him weak in certain aspects, but he still had the strength of a demon. Eloise had chosen the wrong hybrid to mess with. Fool me once…

«Shhh,» Killian gently hushed the hound, who leaned his head into Killian’s open palm when he brought it up to brush the soft fur, kneeling on the ground. The dog nosed his palm, leaving a cold wetness behind. He could feel a rush of power between them, their bond serving as a healing spell and so much more: Killian could sense the hound’s wounds remarginate and his pain slowly quench.

It was like the vibrating sound of a music note, the sensation penetrating Killian’s entire body, settling deep inside his bones where it kept humming quietly, still present and impossible to forget about.

The hound opened his mouth, panting, and his tongue lolled out in the resemblance of a smile which Killian reciprocated, a spark of normality - as much as a bond between a hybrid and a hellhound could be - in the very middle of a war.

A moment later, when another spell hit the barrier, the hound moved a few steps back, starting to tremble slightly.

Knowing what was about to happen, Killian rushed back to his feet. «Stay back,» he whispered, hand connecting with Emma’s arm. He didn’t look at her, not wanting to face whatever emotion he would read in her wonderful jade eyes. Anger, disappointment, sadness… he deserved it all.

«Jones?» Will asked in mild panic, eyes almost falling out of his head, watching as the hound slowly grew in height and mass in front of them. A quick glance at Eloise’s raging expression made Killian’s smirk widen.

When the hound stopped trembling, he stretched on his front legs, deadly sharp nails clawing at the ground, his tail curling over his back.

Will blanched visibly once the hound stood in all his magnificence, his withers reaching Killian’s shoulders.

«Bloody hell.»

«Magnificent,» Killian breathed, the demonic beauty of the hound was breathtaking, enchanting, even. The charm of evil.

The blood red eyes of the hound gleamed, breaking Killian out of his reverie. As much as he would’ve loved to take his time to bond with his new friend, time was running out. He turned to Emma, her unintelligible expression a wound to his heart.

«Swan,» he said, almost taking her hands in his before thinking twice about it and curling his fingers into fists, nails biting painfully into his palms. «We need to create a portal to hell.»

«We?» she asked, shock breaking through her emotions like the sun on a cloudy day.

«Hell?»

After all that was sorted out, they would need to check Will’s mental health: all of these new bits of information and emotions were taking their toll on him.

Robin, meanwhile, just rolled his eyes. It was strange, how calm he was about all of this, as if he knew. Or, perhaps, he was just very good at bottling everything up under pressure, which was something to give him credit for.

«Aye, love, we.» Killian took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. «Forgive my bluntness, I wish I’d told you all of this sooner. You have magic, Emma. Someone, a warlock or witch, must have locked it with their magic-»

«Someone put a spell on me?»

A smile threatened to appear on his face. «As a matter of fact, yes. Someone did, and if we had the time, I could try and search for their signature, but we don’t. I can, however, unlock your magic. After this, we need to create a portal to hell to allow my hound to get to my father.» Killian rushed out the last sentence, ashamed of his parentage. No, not quite ashamed of who he was, but of how he would be perceived by Emma. His mother had been an exception, but there was a question that had haunted him for years: who could ever love a demon?

Emma held his gaze, studying him, searching for a lie, a trick, something that had changed in Killian in the last few minutes, and he couldn’t help but hold his breath, hoping the knowledge that he wasn’t completely human wouldn’t break the trust she placed him.

Whatever doubt she had, even the most quiet alarm bell in the back of her mind, meant nothing, was nothing: what Killian was wouldn’t change who he was, not to her eyes.

«Do it.» It was barely a whisper, yet Killian heard it. When disbelief morphed his features, Emma squeezed his hands, pronouncing three words she’d never told anyone: «I trust you.»

Killian’s mouth hung open, her confession clearly unexpected. It shouldn’t have surprised him: everything Emma Swan did was unexpected.

For the briefest moment, he wondered how kissing her would make things turn out. For everyone’s sake, it was best he didn’t. Later, perhaps.

«The barrier won’t hold for much longer,» he said hurriedly, his spell weakening already. Too soon. «Unlocking your magic will drain mine, as will the ritual to open the portal. I’ll need to access your magic, and to do so, I’ll need you to trust me. Completely.»

If he thought he’d see even the barest flicker of doubt in her eyes, Killian found himself pleasantly disappointed by his own assumptions. There was no trace of distrust, and if another spell hadn’t hit the barrier and the hound hadn’t growled in warning, Killian would’ve kissed her.

Forcing himself to look away from Emma, he looked at Robin and a still shell-shocked Will. «The moment the portal closes, the barrier won’t protect you anymore. You have to be ready.»

Robin nodded, readying the arrows. He was scanning his surroundings, clearly going over his own shooting strategy again. «How long until your new… mate comes back?»

Killian sighed. He feared what would happen next. Summoning a Prince of Hell - nay, begging him to come without a proper ritual - would entail destruction, death, some even believed the Apocalypse. Only once had he been summoned, and it had ended up with him falling in love with a witch.

What a coincidence, Killian mused, then shook his head.

«Hopefully, not much.» And he meant it: time in Hell ran differently, it either stretched or sped up depending on which nightmare the devil or a demon torturer wanted their victim to relive. Demons had quite the twisted sense of justice, more leaning towards vengeance. Yet, they would still call it justice, and sometimes Killian found himself wondering when exactly the line was crossed.

Once Robin nodded, slowly, assimilating this new information, Killian nodded back.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Emma, grateful no hesitation could be seen on her face. His heart skipped a beat or two, the faith she was putting in him an unbelievable concept to him. Shaking off any uncertainty he may have, Killian curled his fingers around hers. «Follow my lead. Whatever you do, please, please, don’t let go until it’s over.»

Emma nodded, and whatever fear Killian had finally loosened its grip on him. He might not have practiced much in the last years, but growing up, he’d read his mother’s and ancestors’ grimoire over and over, memorizing spells and potions of all kinds: if there was something Killian Jones knew as the back of his hand, was magic.

Closing his eyes brought darkness, yet he could feel and hear everything that was going on around him, every breath of air, every spell sent their way, the tremors shaking the still-standing barrier between them and certain death.

And then, he sensed it, his magic.

It was neither pure or dark, it was just magic, made to be used whether for bad or good, but never defined by its own nature. It purred like a cat, stretching just like a feline until it was ready to attack, to spread death all around whether he allowed it to.

Not now, he hushed it gently, making it almost pout in disappointment. He chuckled inwardly before settling into a more serious attitude.

As if without any rush, Killian let his magic flow from him to Emma, the enchantment he knew - the one he’d searched for just in case, the one he’d studied night and day and wondered if it would ever be useful - already on his lips.

Words could only describe the blocking spell someone had cast on Emma as such: a plug preventing the water to descend into a drain, a cork forced into a glass bottle, a tightly fastened iron well curb, yet clearly something that wasn’t easily removable.

For Killian, such a spell wasn’t an easy task, and his mother was a clearly better witch, but he wasn’t stupid either. Yet, when his magic touched the block, he recognized it like he would recognize Alice’s embrace when he came home from school, excited to tell her about his days.

It took him all his strength not to open his eyes and let go of Emma’s hands in shock.

Mum, he thought sadly, longingly, wanting to make the moment last a little bit longer when wishing for more time wasn’t an option.

Her warm smile flashed before his closed eyes, and Killian tugged gently at the block as if he were a ribbon on a gift, his mom’s magic dissolving like ripples on the water’s surface when they were too far out of reach, much like Alice Jones was.

Killian had no idea why she’d blocked Emma’s magic, answers could be found later, cried and fought upon, but now there were more pressing matters at hand.

It was as if the block had waited for him to free the magic inside of the loner girl haunting his dreams; if this was destiny or not, Killian hadn’t the faintest idea.

A gasp pierced his focused mind. Emma’s palms were slick with sweat against his, but she didn’t let go, tightening her grip on his hands. Her fingers were holding on so tightly he knew they’d leave faint bruises in their wake.

Stay with me, Killian murmured in her mind, using his own presence and magic to calm her. Through their connection, Killian could sense how she felt, her terror, how she was overwhelmed yet felt complete, and that spark of curiosity would soon become a bonfire, that he knew for sure: when he’d been a child, he’d felt just like that.

Sadness broke through all those emotions, and Killian was surprised and ashamed when he realized Emma, too, could feel him. He had clearly underestimated this connection, far more intimate than he’d thought it would be.

Her magic and Killian’s touched, creating inside them tiny fireworks with the power of a thousand suns. Had it happened during some other moment, a more private, intimate one, they would’ve let it consume them, and it wasn’t the first time Killian fantasized-

Nails dug gently into his skin.

Biting back his smirk, Killian let himself admire Emma’s magic - so unbelievably pure - before focusing on the other spell.

Many were the ways to create a portal between worlds, or realms, as Killian preferred to call them, but only one was the way to summon a portal to Hell, very different than summoning demons, and more dangerous as well.

The only way in - and out, for that matter - consisted of pronouncing a simple spell in an archaic language known to demons only, and a demon’s blood.

The moment he changed his hold over her hand and placed it above the other two, a surge of power shot through his right arm. Freeing his hand from Emma’s hold but making sure she wouldn’t let go of him, Killian held out his arm, the sleeve riding up enough to expose his wrist.

He felt confusion coming from Emma, and he squeezed her hand in return, reassuring her everything was alright and getting a squeeze from both her hands in return, but it all disappeared when a stinging pain shot up his forearm.

As gently as he could, the hellhound had pierced his skin, allowing four rivulets of blood to smear Killian’s pale skin. Thick drops of blood fell on the ground. As soon as they touched the earth, it began to shake.

Differently from what many believed, Hell wasn’t located at the center of the earth: much like other realms, it existed in parallel.

The earth shook, but didn’t open, not in a literal way. What appeared next to them was the mouth of a vortex, burgundy and black mingling together as flaming lightning appeared from time to time and Robin and Will’s eyes were dragged towards its center, a dreadful yet hypnotizing sight, much like all things evil.

Killian felt his knees weaken, and he locked them, holding onto Emma to support himself.

Sensing the hound’s hesitation, Killian uttered his strong order: «Go.»

In a matter of seconds, just as Killian felt the tip of the hound’s tail disappear, the portal closed.

The earth stopped shaking and, for a few instants, everything became still.

Until Killian’s knees hit the ground, and the barrier around them shattered.

Tagging: @resident-of-storybrooke @winterbaby89 @objectsatsleepstayatsleep @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @killianjonesownsmyheart1  @wyntereyez @kday426 @therooksshiningknight @sals86 @superchocovian @thejollyroger-writer @heavenlyjoycastle

#cs fanfic #captain swan #cs fic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs au #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #my fic #pupstravaganza #cspupstravaganza

[howblunt]

all the valentines asks

This is the third time someone asked me to do all the ask for a post. I am assuming it is one of my irl friends who follows me on here. Thank you! (if it is my irl friend or if it is a mutual/follower!) These are ALWAYS greatly appreciated. 

do you have a crush on anyone?

Yes! (but it won’t go anywhere lol)

what’s your favorite candy?

anything gummy tbh, or bubble gum if that counts 

favorite love song?

this is so hard because I mostly listen to love songs. But I guess the first one that comes to mind is “Let The Sun In” by Wallows

what was your first kiss like?

It was sweet and quick

what was your last kiss like?

I’m assuming this means romantic. And I don’t really remember. It’s been a while

sexual/romantic orientation?

straight 

do you prefer poems or love letters?

if it is to me, love letters! But I do love poems. 

favorite fanfic trope?

Popular/mean person is soft for dorky/oblivious/sweet person

have you ever been in love?

Not yet

favorite milkshake flavor?

strawberry! and also I’m a big fan of caramel! 

dinner dates or brunch dates?

brunch dates

favorite flowers?

I’m basic, I love roses.

favorite perfume/cologne?

casual: bath and body works anything. 

Fancy: I have four Harajuku perfumes and I love them all

favorite candle scent?

my grandma has one that smells so sweet but idk what scent it is. But that one

what’s your ideal first date?

Movie then dinner–talk about the movie at dinner

favorite love story?

I’m a big sucker for Clueless

what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear?

weirdly enough, a flannel 

chocolate, vanilla, or red velvet?

vanilla for ice cream

chocolate for cake 

snow, rain, or sun?

rain

sweetest romantic memory?

My first boyfriend wrote me the sweetest love letter/poem that ended with asking me to his prom. I was giddy the whole day over how sweet it was

favorite dating sim (and favorite character)?

n/a

fictional crushes?

Charlie Kelly is a big one right now. Ray from Ghostbusters, always. Jason from the Good Place!!!!

what’s your dream wedding like?

I wanna feel like a princess in my dress. And I want the reception to last all night. I don’t wanna leave my husbands side all night (besides for obvi reasons we would need to separate) 

what makes you blush?

literally everything. but especially when someone calls me out for being attracted to someone. That makes my face go red so fast. 

do you believe in love at first sight?

Not really, BUT I think you can tell if things will last long after the first few dates. 

do you believe in soulmates?

Yes

denim jackets, leather jackets, or bomber jackets?

Denim jackets 

what’s your sign?

Capricorn!

are you single?

yeaaaah

do you prefer to charm, or be charmed?

oh man, I don’t think I have ever charmed anyone ever. But I guess I’d prefer to do that. 

guitar or piano?

Piano 

favorite romcom (or any romantic movie)?

Romantic Movie: Forest Gump – his love for Jenny makes me cry the whole time

do you fall in love easily?

kindaaa, like I fall in a silly way like “This boy was nice to me, i can hear the bells” kinda silly, where I know it actually means nothing. 

But to actually stay in love, no

valentine’s decorations: yay or nay?

YAY– though i have none of my own

would you prefer to propose or be proposed to? what’s your dream proposal?

Proposed to! And I actually don’t have a dream proposal,,, i never really fantasized about it

cloud gazing or star gazing?

Star gazing

do you like to dance?

sober? in public? no. 

what’s your OTP?

 Lucy and Schroeder from Peanuts 

kittens or puppies?

Kittens! Though I do love a good puppy–which is all puppies

coffee, hot chocolate, or tea?

hot chocolate for sure

favorite soda?

lemonade if that counts 

do you prefer gazing wistfully out the window or lying dramatically over the sofa?

wistfully out a window! So much day dreaming occurs (tho i am a drama queen, so the sofa is very close)

favorite ABBA song?

I;m a basic gal: Dancing Queen gets me

fuck/marry/kill? (anons name 3 people of your choice)

welp. I’m just gonna go with Charlie, Dennis,and Mac from IASIP. 

Marry Charlie, Fuck Mac (even tho he is gay), and kill Dennis 

favorite pajamas?

This Winnie the Pooh shirt my grandma gave me!

favorite liquor?

Vodka

do you think about love a lot?

YEs!! yes, yes. All the time

a walk in the park or a walk on the beach?

beach, i looove to walk on the shore. The feeling of the water running up to my feet is so amazing 

hand kisses or nose kisses?

nose kisses. Though i haven’t really received either before

what’s your dreamhouse?

Any house with a husband and kids l love. Cheesy but very true. But having a pool would be ideal. 

#thank you so much! #ask #anon #always enjoy these

[celiacandsalty]

Gluten Free Gem

In the first 6 months after finding out I had Celiac disease, approximately 900,000 people were quick to assure me that it’s easy to be gluten free in Portland and then tell me about the one gluten-free bakery they knew of, Back to Eden on Alberta. I know they meant well, but it filled me with rage for many reasons, one of which is that as much as I like cookies, finding gluten-free baked goods was not my primary concern after having a stroke1 and saying goodbye forever to every food I ever loved.

Which reminds me, I have a tip for the unafflicted:  If you know a person with Celiac disease (or a serious gluten allergy) in the year 2019, you can probably safely assume that they know how to google “gluten free [type of food] +[city they live in]” and you do not need to tell them about Back to Eden Bakery on Alberta. However, if you know about some very new and secret speakeasy-style gluten-free establishment, by all means tell them about that and also what the password/secret knock is.

To make things worse, I had actually eaten at Back to Eden a few times, back when I was blissfully unaware of my obnoxious condition which is upsetting on its own, because...what a waste. Even though it almost killed me, I regret every treat I ate prior to September 9, 2018 that was not made entirely of gluten. (Although to be fair, there probably weren’t many.) So I can’t believe I ever elected to eat a gluten-free chocolate pumpkin cake2 when I could have eaten literally any other thing in the world. And for what? Fun? That’s like wearing glasses when you have perfect vision. Or going to an escape room when getting out of rooms gets to be too easy.

Anyways, this post was not supposed to be about my mostly irrational hatred of Back to Eden, or my confusion about escape rooms. I wanted to talk about a superior gluten-free bakery in Portland, Gluten Free Gem.

Despite the name being a lot too on the nose, Gluten Free Gem is really very good. Is it more expensive than a normal bakery? Yes, but don’t blame the Gem! Would I prefer to be able to eat an entire sleeve of Oreos whenever I like? Absolutely, but again, not the Gem’s fault!

Anyways, since I haven’t had an Oreo cookie in almost a year, I decided this week that I wanted, nay DESERVED some treats. I’m not a huge fan of chocolate desserts, which is unfortunate, because another thing people LOVE  to tell me about is “flourless chocolate cake.”’ I tend to gravitate more toward the lemon bars and carrot cakes and cheese danishes3 of the world. 

In general, I’m not one of those people who loses my shit over cupcakes. I mean, yes, I like that they are small cakes and all, but I think everyone got a little too into cupcakes about 10 years ago and we all need to settle down. But now that I can’t have cupcakes, I want them all the more. This lemon curd cupcake from Gluten Free Gem did not disappoint. And the frosting was way better than the frosting at St. Cupcake or Cupcake Jones or Lord of the Cupcakes4, or wherever the fuck your coworker Trish thinks is the best cupcakery in town.

This cinnamon roll was lovely and had TOP-NOTCH frosting. The roll itself was a little on the dry side, If I had to describe it to a normal person, I would say it’s like if you bought a fresh gluten-full cinnamon roll and then left it in a hot car for a day or so before eating it.5 It’s still quite good, but will probably not be confused for normal people food.

Not pictured: Gluten Free Gem also makes a VERY good chocolate chip cookie that could DEFINITELY be confused for normal people food. I’ve also tried their Tiramisu (excellent), some sort of cake (also very good even though I can’t remember what kind it was) and some sort of quiche with a surprisingly good crust.

Gluten Free Gem, 140 NE Broadway St, Portland, OR

I had 3 mini-strokes as a result of severe anemia from undiagnosed Celiac disease, like a real drama queen.

Gross.

OH HOW I MISS THE CHEESE DANISH FROM GRAND CENTRAL BAKERY. If you can tolerate the gluten, please go eat three for me.

I don’t think that’s a real place, but it probably should be.

Something I am definitely not above doing. 

#sans gluten #gluten free #portland

[thran-duils]

Horror Survey

1. Do you prefer slashers or zombies?

Mhmmmmmm... slashers.

2. Craven or Carpenter?

Craven.

3. Who is your favorite final girl?

Wendy Torrence.

4. Do politics and horror mix?

I suppose. Look at AHS!

5. Favorite Full Moon movie?

Gingerdead Man 2

6. Is gore necessary for a good Horror Film?

Not in the slightest.

7. What is your favorite of Romero’s Dead films?

Day of the Dead

8. Are there any trends in horror you don’ t like?

I am not usually about animal horror movies. Like the giant snakes or killer crocodiles. Although, Anaconda will always hold a special place in my heart because it was one of the first horror movies I watched as a kid and Lake Placid because one of my brothers and I watched the shit out of that.

9. Zombies: fast or slow?

Slow! Let the fatty get away!

10. If you could meet any horror director, who would it be?

James Fucking Wan. I love Craven but, Wan.

11. Favorite film in the Alien Quadrilogy?

Eh. Alien. I’m not a huge fan of the franchise, so I’ve only seen Alien. Still a solid film though.

12. Who is your favorite Dracula?

Gary Oldman in Dracula. Although, I still have the BIGGEST hard on for Richard Roxburgh in Van Helsing.

13. Creepiest scene in any horror movie?

Room 217 in The Shining (1997), the hand clapping in the closet in The Conjuring, the painting scene in The Conjuring 2, staircase scene in The Exorcist, opening scene in Scream, the “shh” scene in Insidious 2, bathroom scene in IT (1990), Sukeena in the kitchen in Rose Red... I could go on.

14. What is your favorite horror movie remake?

The Shining remake was much longer and tapped into more source material. And if I’m gonna be honest, Friday the 13th remake was more enjoyable for me (and I was not even watching Supernatural at the time!)

15. What Horror Film would you like to SEE remade?

I think them trying to remake Tourist Trap would be interesting. Thirteen Ghosts with today's graphics could be good too.

16. Favorite Horror Film you think no one else has ever seen.

Idk, Creep (2004)?

17. Favorite Scream Queen of all time (sorry, only one!)

Fay Wray.

18. What scared you most as a child that SHOULD be a horror movie?

Uh, a lot of the things that scared me as a child are horror movies.

19. What scene in a horror movie makes you a little queasy?

Opening scene of the remake of Dawn of the Dead, the Achilles tendon scene in Hostel... THE WHOLE ENTIRETY OF THE OG EVIL DEAD.

20. Favorite Friday the 13th movie?

Ha! The 2009 remake.

21. Favorite horror parody/satire?

Scary Movie 2, hands down.

22. Jason or Freddy?

Freddy.

23. What is your favorite Troma film?

I had to google this but the only one I’ve seen is Poultrygeist and that is AWFUL.

24. Do you have a horror movie you only remember a scene or image from, but don’t remember the title of? If so, what is it?

No.

25. Favorite Made-for-TV horror movie?

The Shining remake or Rose Red.

26. How long should a horror movie last?

Enough to tell a good story.

27. Do you like comedy in your horror movies?

Sometimes. Get Out, Cabin in the Woods, Krampus, etc. do well with it.

28. Do you mind having CG effects in horror movies?

Depends.

29. What is your favorite “Universal Monster” movie ?

Dracula

30. Scariest cinematic memory from your childhood?

The bathtub scene in The Shining and every time that bitch popped up in The Grudge.

31. Argento or Fulci?

Don’t have an opinion. I’ve only seen Suspiria.

32. Favorite Texas Chainsaw movie?

The original, even though the remake was good!

33. Shockumentaries/Mondo movies: Yay or nay?

Nah.

34. What was your favorite horror movie of the last year?

Shit... I’m gonna have to go with Get Out. It was so well done and had a great balance of horror and comedy and drama. IT was out-fucking-standing but Get Out has a leg up because it was not a remake.

35. Do you mind shot-on-video/digital horror movies?

Eh. Depends. If it’s talking about what I’m thinking it’s asking, REC was good. Cloverfield was garbage.

36. What is your favorite foreign horror movie-producing country?

Korea or Japan.

37. David Hedison or Jeff Goldblum as The Fly?

Never seen it.

38. Is nudity necessary for a good horror movie ?

No.

39. Which remake would you rather suffer through: The Fog, Prom Night, or Shutter?

Shutter.

40. What is you favorite holiday-based horror movie ?

Halloween.

41. What is your favorite horror movie of all time?

The Shining (1980).

#meme #survey

[knbandhqsin]

Tagged

1. Always post the rules.

2. Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you.

3. Write 11 questions on your own.

4. Tag 11 people.

Oh boy. I’ve never done anything like this before, but we’ll give it a try~ Thanks to @fan-girl-queen for tagging me!

1. Favorite eye color? Brown.

2. Can you sing? I’m one of those cases where the saying “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should” applies.

3. Favorite subject? I really like English and foreign languages.

4. Most hated song?  Oh man, there are so many to choose from. Currently, I’m really annoyed with Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You.” 

5. Dress or T-Shirt? Always the T-Shirt.

6. Favorite fruit? Apples, probably, though grapes are a close second.

7. If you had one day where you could do everything you want without consequences, what would you do? Eat a shit ton of junk food without getting fat and... I don’t know... pee on the White House or something.

8. Favorite movie, book, etc. Quote? I am a HUGE Shakespeare buff. My favorite comedy is “The Taming of the Shrew” and this is my favorite dialogue sequence: Katherina: Mov’d! in good time! Let him that mov’d you hither Remove you hence. I knew you at the first You were a moveable.

Petruchio: Why, what’s a moveable?

K: A join’d-stool.

P: Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me.

K: Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

P: Women are made to bear, and so are you.

K: No such jade as you, if me you mean.

P: Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee! For, knowing thee to be but young and light-

K: Too light for such a swain as you to catch; And yet as heavy as my weight should be.

P: Should be! should- buzz!

K: Well ta’en, and like a buzzard.

P: O, slow-wing’d turtle, shall a buzzard take thee?

K: Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.

P: Come, come, you wasp; i’ faith, you are too angry.

K: If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

P: My remedy is then to pluck it out.

K: Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.

P: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.

K: In his tongue.

P: Whose tongue?

K: Yours, if you talk of tales; and so farewell.

P: What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again,  Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

9. What do you love on Tumblr? I love the shitposting. I know a lot of people get annoyed by it, but I think it’s hysterical.

10. What do you hate on Tumblr? People here can be... sensitive... and very judgmental. I’m just here to have a good time; I don’t want any drama.

11. Do you like glasses? I fucking love my glasses. I love glasses on my face, I love glasses on female faces, and male faces, and even dog faces. So short answer: yes. I like glasses.

Okay, here are my eleven questions: 1. Do you have any pets? 2. Jeans or leggings or sweatpants? 3. Favorite anime? 4. Favorite Harry Potter book? 5. Favorite Eeveelution? 6. Left-handed or right-handed? 7. Hot or cold weather? 8. If you could be the leader of any country in the world for one day, which country would you rule over? 9. Would you rather eat undercooked or overcooked vegetables? 10. What is your craziest adventure with a friend? 11. How many hours a day do you spend on Tumblr? (Be honest...)

Alrighty then, let’s tag: @haikyuu-dream @haiykuties @haikyuu-imagines-and-others @kurokonbscenarios @pastelghostbutt @knb-trash-blog @dafthappiness @starry-athxna @j-davies6 @skystar720 @toomanyfandoms666

#tagged #chitchat

[romainticlettuce]

三 For Set, Neph, Anubis, Xavier, Scarlet, Osiris, and Armani.

Set

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

favorite colors are red & purple

fashion & dressing up tbh XD

both are blatantly honest (though mun takes people’s feelings into account more than Set does)

3 facts that make them different!

Set is sociable and outgoing, mun is… 

He acts on impulse, mun will think 1000000x before they act

Set loves physical activities. Mun is couch potato

Neph

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

i guess i don’t

have any similarities

with nephthys :(

independent woman, perhaps? xD

3 facts that make them different!

Neph cares about people. Mun just doesn’t XD

she’s a traditionalist. mun just doesn’t do tradition

How do you wear dresses and heels and stays lady like all day every day

Anubis

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

likes to wear black

DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (it shows)

isn’t like our parents

3 facts that make them different!

Anubis is emo and gloomy. Mun still has shades of rainbow inside them

Mun doesn’t do metal 

or leather

Xavier

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

#socialjustice

contemplates the existence of humanity 

“Can WE JUST GET ALONG???”

3 facts that make them different!

Xavier parties yay. Mun parties nay. (though yay in some conditions)

Xavier actually sympathize with people more than mun does. 

Xavier is a people person. nuff said

Scarlet

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

Drama Queen XDDDDDD

Can be fashion nazi at times

No kids pls

3 facts that make them different!

CONFIDENCE

Scarlet is Victoria’s Secret’s Angel. Mun is Victoria’s Secret’s Demon XDD

She’s Kendall Jenner. Nuff said

Osiris

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

PRestige #1

both are intellectual

both hate people XD

3 facts that make them different!

Osiris uses logic > personal values. Mun uses pers. values > logic

Osiris is highly organized. Mun is a procrastinator

Osiris is a leader. Mun isn’t a leader nor a follower

Armani

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

Both lone wolfs

Scholarships. Mun’s GPA is higher than the requirements but is too late to apply T.T

foooood!! (heh not really)

3 facts that make them different!

Armani: physics yay!!. Mun: physics. bleh!!

Armani is taaalll T_T (just like other muses) mun is… 

If ONLY I can eat as much as him without gaining any weight

Alkiviadis 

3 facts about the muse & mun that are the same:

PHOTOGRAPHY~~~

Private as fuck

Wears glasses. Or rather, mun wears contacts.

3 facts that make them different!

He still has idyllic romantic fantasies (such as ‘the one’)

He’s innocent

He’s a dutiful son. Mun’s relationship with their parents is rather.. ummmm xD

@darknexsurrounds

#Anonymous #mun

[standingontheedgeinstilettos]

You Souhnd Lahk You’ah From Lahndahn!

Hey Friends,

New Year! New Housewives! New Drama!  And I have a new six month old baby which is why there is a fairly significant lapse in time between now and my last blog.  As usual, let’s move past that quickly.

Ah, Beverly Hills. The 90210.  Ladies, ladies, ladies.  I can’t recall how long it’s been since the Munchausen accusation heard ‘round the world and the subsequent arguments which ensued before our very eyes, but here we are again.  And it feels rather nostalgic, doesn’t it?  I mean we have Lisa Vanderpump and Kyle getting laser beauty treatments on TV while discussing the current state of their vaginas.  

You have your gratuitous Camille Grammar cameo, dropping square footage numbers left and right on her newly smaller Malibu mansion, with her lady-servant plating chicken on the bone.  And Lisa Rinna is still talking about her haircut and Harry Hamlin’s arms circa 1982.  

Oh, but there is newness too.  And newness comes in the form of a doe-eyed moron, whose real name I am quite sure is either Sarah or Jennifer, but we’ll call her “Dorit” if that’s what she needs.  If you’re reading this and you’re standing up, I’m going to need you to sit down.  Take a seat because I’m about to lay something on you so hard.  You guys, Dorit is SO FUCKING WORLDLY.  She has been to other countries.  I’ll give you a minute.  You good?  

So “Dorit” and her husband “PK” (name acronym for what I assume stands for “Pretentious Kook” or “PSugar KDaddy” or the like) are so worldly in fact, that even though “Dorit” is from Connecticut, she sports what may be the worst fake British accent we’ve ever had the misery of witnessing.  She makes Lindsay Lohan sound like Eliza Doolittle at the end of the movie.  She makes Madonna basically the fucking Queen Mother herself.  I’m waiting to see these two on an episode of “America’s Most Wanted” a la the Armstrongs at some point in the near future because I’m telling you right now something ain’t right in the buttermilk.

The only thing we viewers have going for us is that “Dorit” had no idea what she was up against.  She’s TV friends with Lisa Vanderpump so she thought she was safe.  She thought she could get away with just flitting about with her bizarre fake accent, air-kissing Kyle, having dinner parties with the 8 most interesting people in the world, or her world at least, and talking about how Boy George lives with her in every interview.  **If your claim to fame is that Boy George lives with you, I don’t know how to help**  But fortunately for us Erika Girardi resides on our show.  Erika Girardi, who has an accent all her own and is completely fluent in ‘Kunty,’ wasted absolutely zero time in calling out “Dorit” for being from Connecticut.  And thus there has begun a quiet war between them where every battle is to be won by Lieutenant Colonel Erika Jane/Girardi.

I am going to focus on “Dorit” vs Erika through the entire blog entry because I don’t think any of us care about anything else that is happening on this show.  Certainly not about Kyle and her fancy problems, or Lisa V with her TIRED double entendres (for Christ’s sake lady, know any other tricks??) nor Lisa Rinna and her Home Shopping Network grey duster.  

I want, nay- I NEED to start with “PantyGate.”  If you know me even just a little bit, you know that I never wear underwear.  It’s a personal choice.  I have no time for it, I don’t like how it feels, I don’t like lines in clothes, I just don’t like any of it at all.  So when Erika did not wear underwear beneath her designer dress, I empathized.  I mean, look what happened with Kyle.  You could see nearly every inch of her Spanx.  That is a fashion faux pas of the worst kind, and really should have been blamed for this whole incident because had Kyle chosen the correct form of underwear, or no underwear at all, Lisa V wouldn’t have playfully asked Erika to give Kyle her underwear and Erika would never have been forced to tell everyone she wasn’t wearing any so Lisa would cease lifting her skirt at the table. And really, now that I type this, it’s Lisa V’s insistence on shoving her nefarious nature down all of our throats which led us to this moment.  The woman will do anything for a sexual innuendo and to start some shit.

So Erika says she’s not wearing any underwear, as she sits legs together, napkin over legs.  Cut to “Perverted Knucklehead” chuckling coyly while sitting next to his wife, and then leaning over somewhat trying to get a better look! OMG.  OMG, hell no.  Helllllllll no.  I don’t know exactly the proper way for a husband to react to being told the woman sitting across from him isn’t wearing underwear, but that was definitely not it.  I’m trying to think of what my husband would have done.  Run away probably, but he’s afraid of all women who aren’t me so he’s a bad example.  Perhaps jokingly ask to switch seats with “Dorit” so you’re not directly across from Erika? Make a big, “WOAH!  Didn’t need to know that haha, can I get another gin and tonic over here??” awkward joke and move on WITHOUT TRYING TO SEE HER VAGINA FURTHER??

If you haven’t been watching, and you guessed that he kept trying to see what Erika Jane is always slapping in her music videos, you win.

A wise man would never mention this again to his wife.  And if she brought it up, a wise man would say, “I did not, would not look at your new friend’s lady bits at cocktail hour, now pass the peas please.”  But a wise man “Punchy Kookoo” is not.  He’s in the kitchen with “Dorit” and not only admits to looking for/at Erika’s box-o-secrets, but that he REALLY ENJOYED IT and COULD NOT STOP.

In the kitchen he said this. Where the knives are kept.  And “Dorit” is all, “I mean, he’s a man for Pete’s sake, who can blame him??”  And that’s how I know “P Kiddy” is paying this broad a LOT of money to say she’s his wife.

Cut to “Dorit” telling every housewife in history how Erika forced her husband to look up her skirt. She called Quinn and Lydia from Orange County.  She dialed up Adrienne Maloof and left a voicemail.  She drafted a telegram for Jill Zarin.  She sent a Messenger Pigeon to Taylor Armstrong in Aspen, but poor little guy unfortunately chose suicide by flight-into-jet-engine over having anything to do with this lame-ass scandal.

Now alllllll the ‘wives are talking about “PantyGate.”  “Dorit” decides to go as far to manufacture drama, thereby securing her spot on the show since they clearly need the money, as to buy Erika a pair of panties to present at the next event where everyone is there to witness the gifting.  So when they all meet up to do some human puzzle activity, “Dorit” makes a prettttttttty big deal about Erika’s vagina, how everyone saw it, and how she may be best served in covering it up going forward.  It made her husband “Pussy Krazed” super uncomfortable when he was trying really hard to stare at it.

I always say I would be the literal worst on this show.  It’s because I don’t care about any of this shit.  If this crazy lady with her accent made of a thousand accents came at me with that shit, I would be like, “Umm, that’s your incredibly embarrassing problem.” But maybe I actually would be good on this show, because that’s basically exactly what Erika said.  It was awesome. And “Dorit,” God bless her, as she does with everything else in her life- she tried SO HARD.  She really wanted this to be a scandal.  But it just wasn’t.  It was like this: Erika didn’t wear underwear, and “Dorit”’s husband thought that was awesome, tried to see up her skirt, told his wife he couldn’t help but look because it was freaking amazing and “Dorit” blamed Erika for her husband being disgusting.  And it was all so painfully transparent.  So much so that Erika was just like, “Gross, ok.”

Cut to Tuesday night’s dinner party at “Dorit” and “Practically Kitschy”s home where the most interesting people in the world gathered to talk about “The Haves and The Have-Nots” and who really killed JFK.  Dorit wore the world’s shortest red dress and made a point to show her desperation by telling her husband to tell her she looked hot and that, unlike Erika, she was wearing underwear.  Barf, lady. Lisa RInna somehow got invited, which I’m sure ultimately made her feel more punished than honored.  She was given a severe tongue-lashing by “Pernicious Knave” about last season’s fight she had with his dear, fake friend Lisa Vanderpump.  Lisa RInna tried to explain she’s turned over a new leaf and feels differently about life now that she knows people die.  She brought up how Eileen has lost so many people including her mother right before last season’s reunion which Eileen did not tell anyone about as to not garner fake-sympathy that could somehow be used against her.

This did not please “Pro Knickers.”  Not one bit.

“That is unfair!” he spat. “Those women deserved to know that your mother had just died!”

“Oy!” exclaimed “Dorit.” “I complete-lah agrah wit you-ah one hooondred percahnt!”

Eileen finds out about this peculiar stance against her choice to keep her mother’s death on an I-want-you-to-know basis and confronts “Dorit” about it at a one on one meeting between the two of them that I thought was going to take place with each in their own convertibles parked next to each other but ultimately moved to a random picnic table.

“All the other tables get picnics, and I get this?  I wish I could fly into a jet engine.” – Picnic Table

Eileen explains rather clearly the conversation that took place between “Dorit,” “Party Killer” and Lisa Rinna and why it bothers her that they would pass judgement on how she or anyone deals with the loss of a loved one.  And then “Dorit”s just like, “Whaht?  I litahrally have absoloooootily no idir whaht you ah toolking aboot…..”

WTF is this chick on? Seriously, what is it?  Is it some hybrid of Valium and Molly?  Is she the love child of vodka and lithium?  Because if she’s not on anything she is the worst, weirdest liar ever.

We end the latest episode with a bizarre (I know I keep using that word but it is consistently the most appropriate adjective) conversation wherein “Dorit” calls 45 year old Erika a “young girl,” asks how albums are made (isn’t “Poopy Kaka” a music manager or record producer or something?) and tells Eileen to basically “bugga ooff!”

Meanwhile, a sullen Camille Grammer quietly forks around her bone-in chicken breast wondering where she went so wrong.

  �ȣR �