Ok So Now I Have To Know, What Kind Of Script Did Colin Trevorow Write That Disney Felt The Need To Fire

Ok so now I have to know, what kind of script did Colin Trevorow write that Disney felt the need to fire him and bring on JJ to make this half-baked, depressing piece of shit

The Food of Love - Chapter 9: High Fantastical

“So, what made you take up cello then?” she asked.

“I was encouraged to play an instrument that I chose, not one chosen for me.”

She frowned. “By who?”

“My advisor at Julliard. He’s now my agent.”

She tilted her head at him. “So, he was okay with you dropping out of Julliard?”

“He encouraged it,” Ben said, twisting in his chair. “He knew I had more potential than what Julliard could offer me. They were letting him go at the end of the semester - some administration bullshit - and he told me to come with him.”

Something buzzed in Rey’s mind. It sounded like the advisor got the better deal. Taking away Leia Organa’s prodigy son from Julliard just as they were firing him.

Chapter 9 here  board by @mhcalamas

My Glee/St. Berry phase continues with this gem of a fic and let me say wow, this one is worth a read!

Author Description: My St. Berry “fix” for the Nationals episode. Starts at the unscripted kiss and then veers heavily AU. Smut and fluff warning! *I had so much fun with this, I’m adding more “fixes” and missing scenes, all oneshots.*

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

​oh gods this is everything please PLEASE write the whole story i need this in my life!!! 🥺

Bellarke + Percy Jackson | Happy Valentine’s Day, @pawprinterfanfic!

Happy (maybe belated) Valentine’s Day, love! I may have messed with your ideas a little bit, but a PJO AU demanded to happen; it was going to just be a moodboard, but a ficlet demanded to be written. This was such a fun challenge, and I was so suddenly inspired! If I ever actually write this story down, you’ll be the first to know. I hope you had a wonderful day! @bellarke-valentines​

Bellamy has known the gods were real for as long as he can remember. Just after Octavia was born, the moment the nurses left their hospital room, his mother leaned over to him, tired but stern, and told him that his sister’s father was a god. They weren’t going to be safe anymore, and it would be Bellamy’s responsibility to protect his little sister. Had he been a few years older, he might have thought she was crazy. But he was five, and he spent his evenings enthralled by the Roman myths his mother read to him, and he believed her.

And if he hadn’t been convinced, the monsters that started coming after them soon after Octavia was born would have changed his mind pretty quickly.

He’s kept her safe for twelve years when they discover Camp Half-Blood. It’s a relief, sure, but it’s terrifying wondering when they’re going to kick him out, when they’re going to separate him from her. The director, Chiron, questions him when they arrive—“How did you survive until seventeen?”—and he fumbles through some excuse about being lucky or something. Once they know he’s not a half-blood like Octavia, he won’t be able to protect her anymore.

The second night there, she’s claimed. Ares, of course. The holographic helmet floats blood-red above her head, and she watches it with an dazzled grin before looking over to him across the campfire. He gives her a little smile to reassure her and drops it once she turns away.

As everyone’s leaving the campfire for the night, the head counselor from Hermes gives him a friendly clap on the back. “Your dad’ll claim you soon, dude.”

“Yeah,” he says absently, barely regarding him. Gods, what’s he going to do when they figure out he’s faking it? How’s he gonna keep his sister safe?

And then he’s claimed by Zeus.

Four months later, he’s finally getting into his stride at Camp Half-Blood. As the only Zeus kid at camp—the only Big Three kid at all, apparently—he kind of gets to do what he wants. He starts to learn real combat, trains at the climbing wall, spars with various cabins. He’s finally stopped slipping up and calling all the gods and heroes by their Roman names.

It’s hard, not being able to keep track of O all the time, but he finally feels like somebody his own, not just her protector. And most of the other kids his age already know each other, so it’s hard to really be a part of their community, but he has Raven and Miller now, and nobody seems to actively dislike him, anyway.

Nobody but one, that is.

Clarke Griffin is everything he isn’t. Her mother was a daughter of Athena, one of the rare demigods who made it to adulthood, and then she became enamoured by Apollo; when her daughter was born, she left her with Chiron to ensure her safety. Clarke grew up in Camp Half-Blood, a three-quarter demigod protected by the older campers and the camp’s own magical barriers. And she resents him. He doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t think he ever will, but he responds to her with equal vitriol. He’s not the kind of person to back down.

Then Octavia disappears, and with her, everything he knows.

She’s relishing in the pride of a capture-the-flag victory when she vanishes, completely out of nowhere, and the camp is sent into chaos. Chiron calls for a meeting with the head counselors, and he summons the Oracle to give him a prophecy, and suddenly he’s preparing for a quest.

He leaves the meeting at the Big House still in shock, allowing himself just a moment to steady himself against the banister of the porch stairs. Gods. He doesn’t have any idea what to do or where to start, just some dumb cryptic prophecy sending him west.

The floorboards creak behind him, and he turns, expecting Chiron or maybe Miller or Raven, but instead it’s Clarke standing there, determined and a little awkward, her Athenian-gold hair lit by the sunset behind her.

“What do you want?” he asks, too tired to add any bite to it.

“I’m coming with you,” she says plainly.

Bellamy scoffs. “What, you just decided that yourself?”

“Come on,” she says with a half-smirk. “It’s a perilous journey across the continent with the danger of monsters at every turn, risking the wrath of the gods. Somebody’s probably gonna die. You want that to be someone you actually like?”

“I’m not gonna let anybody die, Clarke,” he says, jaw working as he looks out towards the grounds. “Not my friends. And not…”

She finishes his sentence before he can trail off. “Not your sister.”

Her interruption surprises him, and Bellamy turns back to her, expecting the same wry smirk, but it isn’t there. Clarke’s expression is nothing but sympathetic.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice breaks, just a little, before he gives a minute shake of his head to regain his composure. “Look, even if I wanted you to come… the prophecy wouldn’t let you, right? ‘Leading the forges’ daughter and son.’ It has to be Hephaestus kids with me. Raven would be coming anyway, so there’s the daughter, and… I mean, I don’t know who else is coming yet. Wick, I guess.”

Clarke snorts. “Come on. I know you’re not gonna leave your sister’s fate in Wick’s hands.”

“Which ‘forges’ son’ do you think I should take, then?” he says, voice rising.

“I don’t think you need to take a Hephaestus guy at all.”

“Clarke, this isn’t the time to finally break a rule—”

“I’m serious, Bellamy.” He searches her eyes, and they’re full of conviction. “Listen… I know prophecies don’t make sense. But since they’re my dad’s domain… I don’t understand them, but they make a little more sense. And I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t think it’s ‘son,’ like, ‘male child.’ I think it’s ‘sun.’”

For just a moment, his brow furrows, but then he understands. “Leading the forges’ daughter… and leading the sun. A child of Apollo.”

Clarke nods heavily. “I want to help your sister, alright? I know you can do it. But… I know you’d give yourself up for her. With you and me and Raven, together, we can do this. We can find her and stay alive ourselves. I know we can.”

She’s imploring him to let her in, and he holds her gaze, seeking out any way she could be messing with him. Tricking him. But the longer he looks at her, the more he knows that as sardonic and snobbish she may be, she’s serious about this.

“Okay,” he says. “Together.”

Sobbing w happy tears rn 😭😭

tros ending version 2

well seeing as that they came for me after posting version 1 (probably too close to the actual ending) maybe they’ll let version 2 slide bc it’s definitely more manipulated

not beyond repair (4/?)

AO3

September 23rd, 1989.

Dear Diary,

I am the worst person on this planet.

Left alone in the middle of the cafeteria, Veronica looks up at the Heathers, strolling off with their chins in the air like royalty. That’s what they are, of course. People even move aside for them in the halls. The kind of royalty that beheads anyone who disagrees with them. She looks over her shoulder at Martha, who is sitting at her table, the forged note in her hand. In all the time Veronica’s known her, she’s not sure she’s ever seen Martha smile like that. Sort of breathless excitement, like she’s just stepped into fairyland. She’s practically glowing for God’s sake. Like she’s floating on air.

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