14 parts Ongoing ❝ᴛʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇɴᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ, ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʜᴀʟᴛ❞
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:
Glinda looked at the young man, trying to avoid the intensity of his gaze, and found herself settling on other things: on his blood-ridden jeans, holed shoes, and his bruised knuckles.
He grunts, but sounds rather like a laugh.
"What?" Glinda asks, unable to take the venom out of her voice.
He shrugs, looking around the vast field that they were in. "Nothing... it's just--" he pauses for a moment. "𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄'𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚."
OR
What if Dorothy wasn't the only person to get swept into Oz that faithful day? What if Glinda Upland also had to deal with an idiot from Boston?
(in progress...)
𝙶𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚡 𝙾𝙲