#and i really hope he gets a chance to be again to rediscover and grow into himself more and learn he’s always had a lot going for him 😭😭😭

[akkivee]

No wait, please come back and talk about Ichiro and Nemu's perceived lack of sense of self that comes from confidence issues. Or not; I'm not the boss of you.

i am quite literally always down to talking about ichiro and nemu lol

i’ve been looking at it like neither ichiro nor nemu have had the opportunity to explore who they are and grow up as themselves because they really aren’t at a place to do so

for ichiro, he’s crafted himself to being the perfect big bro he thinks his brothers need. like, he’s so focused on not being anything his brother’s don’t need it took nemu unlocking buried childhood memory #896 for him to recall a food he enjoyed enough to call a fav 😭😭😭 in the tdd manga, you see a lot of ichiro’s less than savoury sides of his personality, his hotheadedness, his very brash way of speaking, and a touch of ruthlessness. it’s all facets of himself that helped drive jiro and saburo away so he buried them once he got the chance to be the ‘adult’ figure in his brother’s lives out of a fear he’d drive them away again

nemu, on the other hand, is doing great lol unfortunately, she just got brainwashed just as she was coming into herself. however, because of she views herself as weak, she’s blind to the fact she’s always stood her ground in the face of wrongdoing. her standing up to otome??? her standing up to samatoki’s brand of violence??? her not even flinching when terrorists threatened to kill her??? that strength’s always been in her character but since she had to rely on her brother (and that reliance led to fuel samatoki’s violent lifestyle), she doesn’t see that about herself and only views herself as a damsel

#vee got an ask #bingbong21 #there were a lot of angles i wanted to take for this particular train of thought lol so if it feels jumpy #that’s because the brain was supplying multiple points of interest at once and i couldn’t decide on which one to focus on lol #i can genuinely talk in circles about ichiro’s self issues lol #but this train of thought mostly came from seeing other bb stans wonder about ichiro’s personality like he feels undercooked #but ichiro’s really multifaceted and even he doesn’t know it because he’s focused on being one thing #he’s both that punk kid that’ll tell a btch their bullshit is smeared over their mouths and he’s also that very inspirational big bro #he just plays up certain aspects of himself and the big bro version has him self reliant to a fault and overly critical of himself #i think he was at his most natural self whenever he was around kuukou since kuukou wanted nothing but his company and he just got to BE #and i really hope he gets a chance to be again to rediscover and grow into himself more and learn he’s always had a lot going for him 😭😭😭 #nemu def just needed space from samatoki as much as samatoki Did Not Want That LOL #she just needed the proof she could fend for herself #and like samatoki has also been outnumbered and kidnapped himself she really shouldn’t be so hard on herself lmao #c: ichibro #c: nemu

[crovvpunk]

I wrote an angsty blurb about Jean and Harry so I'm dumping it here. Might turn it into a full fic eventually.

enjoy ↓

"What is this? Some kind of fucking joke?" The man's eyes are dark and cold. He's leaning against the side of his door, arms crossed.

[Empathy] He seems startled to see you on his doorstep- and not overly pleased.

[Perception : Vision] He's wearing ill-fitting trousers and a dark blue shirt with long sleeves. There's something odd about seeing him without his uniform.

[Electrochemistry] It feels intimate.

"No. No jokes. I just... I was hoping we could talk? Over coffee, maybe?"

"Why do you have that?" He pointed to the small pot in your hands.

"Oh!! It's a gift- for you! It's a cute little cactus, with a flower blossom too, look-"

Jean opened his mouth to say something, but you were still going.

"You don't have to worry about watering it all the time, it's prickly-- but cool, and it's very resilient. It reminded me of you."

Jean raises his eyebrows, his lips pressing into a tight line. Silence falls between the two of you.

You feel a crushing weight in your chest. And your palms are sweating.

"Uh-huh.... thanks." There's an edge to his voice as he takes the potted plant and looks it over. His face is hard to read, but it looks like something in him caved. He sighs heavily. "Alright, fine. Come in.”

[Composure] This is going better than you thought it would. Just keep it cool, don't freak out.

[Reaction Speed] RUN before the scary man with the sad eyes makes you feel horrible about yourself again!

[Inland Empire] No. He needs this, just as much as you do.

You follow Jean inside, quietly observing the cosy wooden furniture. A painting of a horse hangs on the wall above a worn leather couch. You take a seat at the tiny dining table, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

Jean is in the kitchen. He sets the cactus on the windowsill in front of the sink and starts preparing a pot of coffee. You can hear the sizzle of the pot as the scent fills the air. He exits and takes a seat at the table across from you.

“What do you want?” His voice is as sharp as his gaze. Anger flares up behind his stoney eyes.

“I wanted to apologise to you, for all the bullshit I've put you through.” Your words are soft.

The man narrows his eyes. “Oh please!” He scoffs, “Do you seriously think I haven't heard this bullshit before?” His shoulders grow rigid.

“But–”

“Yes, I know! You're the sorriest goddamn cop who ever lived. This isn't the first time you've shown up grovelling on my doorstep.” A scowl is written across his face.

“Jean…” Your voice cracks, “I don't… I can't remember what I did to make you feel this way, just that it was horrible.”

“Oh yes. Let me help you, give you a little run-down- maybe?” Before you have a chance to object, Jean continues, “You permanently crippled a man in a fit of blind rage, a month ago. You went undercover to sleep with prostitutes and then arrested them. When a woman accused you of harassing her you tried to get her child taken away. You– you fucking leave a trail of destruction wherever you go, and it's always been my job to clean up after you.” His voice is shaking with rage, his fists clenched on the table in front of him. “I can keep going.”

God… did I really do all of that?

[Half Light] You did. You can still remember the sound of bones cracking.

“You don't need to.” There's a growing pit in your stomach. You start feeling a little ill. “I already know that I've done terrible things, I've spent weeks rediscovering every awful thing I've ever done for myself!” A heavy sigh escapes you. “Listen. I wish I could’ve been a better person, and a better partner to you– but I wasn't. All I can do now is try to move forward and… prove to you that I can be better.”

The words feel familiar and bitter in your mouth.

Jean crosses his arms tight to his body, still scowling. Silent rage radiates from him, but he says nothing.

“I have a fresh set of eyes, a new outlook on life. They say people have to hit rock bottom before they'll change. That was my rock bottom, Jean. I'm a changed man, ready to take accountability for my life.”

Jean shakes his head, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you think I’m a moron? That may have worked on me when we were young men, but not anymore. I've heard it all before. There is nothing left for you to say.” He pauses, briefly, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes. “Guys like you don't change, Harry. You might be able to bewitch this new little partner of yours, lure him in with your honeyed lies and empty promises. But not me. I'm not your emotional dumping ground, go see a fucking psychiatrist.”

#disco elysium #harry du bois #jean vicquemare #disco elysium fanfiction #fanfic

[the-final-sif]

More of Michael and Dream bonding perhaps? 👉👈

no u get c!sam and c!dream instead.

Dream waited on the floor, head kept low with three or four sets of clothing tucked to the side. Michael was in the bathtub, napping for once, which was a relief. The toddler hadn't been sleeping well, and had been getting more and more restless. It wasn't hard to guess why. They'd been here almost a month, and Michael was bored. Dream was trying his best to entertain the piglin, but he could only tell stories for so long before his throat gave out on him. Stories could also only do so much. Michael wanted to play, to move around, to rediscover life now that he was healed over. But the two of them were stuck in a cell, with barely enough room for Michael to run a lap and little more than sheets and clothing. Sure, Dream didn't know much about kids, but he knew they needed toys and stuff. He knew-

His thoughts were interrupted by the tell-tale sound of footsteps down the hall. Right. Okay. He counted the steps, measuring their rhythm. Standard pace. Not too heavy. That was a good sign. Probably.

Nearly a minute passed by, in which the redstone mechanics whirred and clicked, before finally the door opened. The Warden surveyed the cell, taking in the clothing with narrowed eyes.

"What happened this time, prisoner?"

Taking in a deep breath, Dream did his best to keep calm and apologetic.

"The clothing got torn. Michael- his tusks- they're growing out a bit. He's not used to them being this long. They keep catching on things. He's trying his best, but it's hard for him."

The silence from the Warden was deafening. Dream didn't dare look up and risk provoking him. Seconds ticked past, slow and painful until finally-

"I'll take them back for repairs. You can't keep letting this happen though, or there will be consequences."

The Warden's tone was annoyed, but not really upset. Thank god. Dream hesitated, letting the Warden set down their food and gather up the clothing before replying. He kept his tone soft, eyes down, hoping it would be enough to not set the Warden off.

"I'm sorry... but, it's hard. Michael's... He's been healthier, which is good, but it means he's got more energy and he's... bored. I don't- I mean, he's just a kid, and he doesn't have anything to do in here. I know, I know you're busy. But, if he had some toys or picture books or something to do..."

There was an immediate scoff in response, which wasn't a good sign but wasn't terrible.

"I don't have time to make toys, you're supposed to be watching him, you should do a better job of keeping him entertained."

Ugh. This was a risky point to push, but Dream decided to go for it. The Warden didn't seem likely to turn violent tonight, and who knows when he'd get another chance like this.

"I know, I'm trying, but I don't have much to work with." A tiny pause, just long enough for it to be realistic that a thought was occurring to him. "Maybe, if you would allow it, maybe I could I have a sewing needle and some thread? I know how to sew, the basics at least. Then I could fix the clothing, and make him some stuffed toys or something?"

Dreaded silence again. This time only for a bit before the Warden was stalking across the room, hand going straight into Dream's hair to pull it back, forcing him to look up. God, what was even the point of this? His ever present mask kept his face hidden, so it wasn't like the Warden could see anything there. Still, Dream relaxed his body and didn't fight the motion. Remaining as pliant as he could.

"What, and give you a weapon? Something you could use to hurt someone?"

Quickly, Dream rushed to placate the Warden. The man's tone wasn't truly angry, not quite yet. He could still save it.

"It wouldn't- I wouldn't need a big one. Or a sharp one. It doesn't even need to be metal. I've used- I've used bone ones before. They just take a bit more time and break more easily. I could- I wouldn't mind the extra work. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask for something dangerous, I just wanted to be helpful. I know fixing the clothing takes up your time, and I thought I could do it instead. It was only a thought."

As he rambled, Dream squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for a blow. By some miracle, it never came. Instead, the Warden studied Dream for what felt like ages, before finally releasing his hair. Letting him drop his head back down.

"... I guess it is bothersome to be doing these repairs. You are the one that made the problem. It's only fair that you should be the one to fix it..."

Another pause, but a softer one. One that gave Dream hope.

"... I'll bring you some sewing supplies tomorrow so you can be useful, but-"

And just as Dream had started to relax, a hand shot out to grab his chin, the sudden pain made him gasp. He almost screamed. But he avoided it. Just barely.

"If you try anything, and I mean anything, you will regret it."

"I-I understand Si- Warden. I won't- I won't try anythin'."

Several more seconds ticked by, and even though Sam's hand wasn't on his throat for once, Dream still struggled to breathe.

"... Good. As long as you behave, there shouldn't be any issues then."

With that, Dream was released. The Warden pulled back, dropping the clothing back down where it was and turning to leave. Pausing at the door, the Warden offered one final statement.

"I might have some books lying around, I'll see if I can find some for Michael. If not, then you can make some for him. That's why you're alive, isn't it? Writing books? You can use this as practice. Or something."

With that, the Warden left.

Dream took a moment to breathe. Just a moment. His heart was racing, his back was sweaty, his hands were clammy. But it was fine. He was fine. He won. He got what he wanted, what he needed. A needle and thread would do him a lot of good. It meant he could make a backpack, and cobble together some shoes. For when they escaped. Because they were going to escape. They were going to get out of here, and everything was going to be okay.

Despite his victory, Dream still felt on edge. He pushed his nerves down, grit his teeth, and folded up the clothing to be fixed tomorrow. Then after taking a moment longer, he made his way into the bathroom to get Michael. The toddler was still napping, thank prime, that meant he didn't overhear anything. It was safe.

"Hey buddy, time to get up, food's here." Keeping his voice gentle, Dream poked the toddler softly to help rouse him. The baby whined, but stirred as Dream untangled him from the bed sheets filling the tub.

It took almost a minute, but eventually Michael was free and Dream could snag the bedding to return it. He turned the sheet over in his hands and tried to decide if it'd be better to steal some fabric from it or from the clothing. Sam did wash the sheets every week, so he might notice it unless Dream could make the cut clean-

A sharp, distressed whine cut off his train of thought. Michael was properly awake now and reaching up, making grabby hands for Dream.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Dream asked, even as he scooped Michael up into his arms. The toddler was heavy, and his body would be unhappy with him later for this, but Dream would rather be sore than risk Michael getting upset.

The moment the toddler was high enough, little hands went to cup the sides of Dream's face. Right where-

Ah. Shoot. He'd forgotten it'd leave a mark. With the amount of force the Warden used, there'd surely be bruises. Ugh. Michael was getting teary.

"Hey, it's okay buddy, I'm fine. Looks worse than it is. It wasn't- It was an accident. Didn't even hurt."

Michael didn't look that convinced, but as he snuffled around and tilted Dream's face, he couldn't find any other injuries. Reluctantly, the toddler nodded, accepting the statement as it was. Letting Dream put him back down and guide him out into the main room. There, a lucky distraction caught Michael's attention. The food the Warden had brought. Two full loaves of bread, what looked like dried beef, and two apples. The Warden really must've been in a good mood, it was the first time he'd ever brought this much food. Almost all of it was stuff that both him and Michael could eat. The beef could be added to the stash, along with half the bread, and that would be more than enough to keep them going for a week if they needed maybe more.

Michael was equally delighted about the food, racing over to scoop it up and rushing to push the bread into Dream's hands. Tail wagging with excitement. Dream grinned softly in reply, throwing the bedding down so he could pull Michael up onto the bed and divide up the food. His little white lies from before forgotten entirely. God, Dream had forgotten how hungry he was in all of this. It'd been almost two days since he last was able to eat. It felt like it'd been years since he had any fruit. It might've been by now. He wasn't sure.

All things considered, it was a good night. A victory. Something that kept them going.

Dream knew his plan was going to take time, far too much of it for his liking. But he was sure it'd work. He'd get the two of them out of here. Michael would go somewhere where he had lots of toys, room to run around, a proper bastion to look after him, plenty of food, and Dream- well. Dream would be free. He'd be away from here. That was all he really needed. He could keep working on the plan, and he'd get to see Punz again. For the plan. That'd be enough for him.

#c!dream #c!sam #c!awesamdude #dreblr #michael_beloved #michael beloved #dsmp #dream smp #my headcanons #convict childcare au #sif speaks #Anonymous #sif answers #sif writes

[incomingalbatross]

Hey, I hope you're doing well.

So, I was minding my business when I began wondering about Catholic Bat Family again. At what point would Jason go to Lourdes? Would Lourdes be the first step on his journey back to the faith, or would it be the last step with Bruce right beside him?

Also, I feel like the stuff with Jason would get resolved before Damian shows up and before Identity Crisis (aka when Bruce gets stuck in the time stream), so as to wrap up one issue before going forward. Can you imagine Jason becoming the spiritual leader of the Wayne household by keeping an eye on Tim and bringing Dick fully into the faith?

And finally, your idea for Selina fits extremely well with her character.

Again, thanks for everything you do and God bless you!

Hey! I am doing well, thank you for asking. :) Hope you are too.

Good questions! I guess I'd put it somewhere in the middle? I feel that if you're making a trip like that, you've already taken some steps back to the Faith—you know, if you're already secure enough in it to go looking to Mary for healing. On the other hand, I like the idea of this being a personal pilgrimage Jason undertakes. Maybe one last thing which brings him enough wholeness that he feels he can truly, fully rejoin his family when he comes home? But after the reconciliation has begun.

(Though there is something to be said for Lourdes as Jason's first step—if you imagine him so desperate and tired of his anger/confusion/suffering that he's grasping at the straws of faith he has, running to the only chance he can see... That is also compelling.)

This might say something about the place the fandom was in when I started reading Batfam fic (I'm really not sure :P), but I personally like Bruce's "death" as a pile-up of maximum dysfunction for the whole family. So I personally wouldn't resolve Jason's issues before that? But that's my preference, you're free to construct your own scenario!!

I like putting Dick's conversion during Bruce's "death" as a fruit of his grief, because with his rock suddenly gone from his world he has to find a new rock... and he ends up finally discovering for himself the one Bruce built his own life on. And then Damian can go to RCIA with Dick and be drawn in by both Bruce's absent example and Dick's present one—they can grow together, just like they do as Batman and Robin!

I'm not sure what Jason's spiritual state is during this period (I mean, canonically I'm pretty sure it's Bad, but in THIS retelling :P), but I think it would make sense for him to hit a crisis point during or soon after this that starts pushing him back toward the Faith. I personally like Dick leading the way for the family's various conversions/reconciliations, BUT I am all for Jason outstripping him at some point as he regains his faith and is able to add another cradle-Catholic perspective to the household! (AND rediscovers his vocation!)

...I still haven't decided what's up with Tim. I think he might be the hardest nut to crack in this whole family. :P

And I'm really glad you liked my Selina thoughts!

Thank you again for your asks! God bless!

#asks #francisofgotham1 #catholic batfamily

[darkandstormyart]

Xicheng fic recs

(figured i might make a list of my own)

(to be expanded as i dig out more treasure/remember stuff)

in no particular order:

Deep as the Yearning Night by FreckledStarKnight

“At first, it was pure chance. The second time was accidental. And the third time? Well, they say the third time’s the charm, after all. Lan Xichen discovers that Jiang Wanyin sings beautifully and is immediately enamored by it. His pursuit of Jiang Wanyin’s secret talent leads to a discovery and a series of events that he did not anticipate at all. Not that he’s complaining, of course. He got what he came for and more. Or, how two sect leaders get together through the song called love. CQL-verse.“

post-seclusion lxc

trying to get jc to sing

bonus lxc & jin ling feels i hadn’t considered before

cute

Always use protection by hesselives

“In which Lan Wangji attempts to hire a new bodyguard for his older brother, a well-known traveling exorcist. Jiang Wanyin doesn’t even make his carefully considered list of Top Ten Candidates, and yet here he is.

Lots of wandering in the countryside, distant yelling, and mildly inconvenient spirits.”

bodyguard au

honestly just really intersting worldbuilding

Rewrite the stars by Arashii

“Five great kingdoms have been fighting for years and when the kingdom of Yunmeng is destroyed, the Crown Prince Jiang Cheng vanishes.In Gusu, Lan Xichen makes an offer impossible for Jiang Cheng to refuse. His life or revenge? There’s only one option and Jiang Cheng swears loyalty to the man he hated the most his whole life, the Crown Prince of Gusu, Lan Xichen himself.Written for XiChengFest2020 - Day 4“

ROYALTY AU ROYALTY AU

enemies to lovers!

flashbacks! i love flashbacks so much ohmygod

No paths are bound by Arashii

“In seclusion, Lan Huan has the support of a ghost no one has seen since the massacre of Yunmeng Jiang. His feelings start changing with the often visits and conversations they share. Before Lan Huan can confess though, he ascends, leaving everything and everyone behind him.

Two hundred years later, back to the Human Realm and without powers, the Martial God Zewu-Jun has a mission to uphold. His Heavenly Calamity started. The clues are little and the support comes in the most unexpected form, the current Ghost King: Sandu Shengshou. Now they need to stick together to contain a menace that is slowly growing.“

TGCF AU TGCF AU

ghost king jiang cheng come on

doesn’t follow tgcf plot, just the setup so no spoilers

jiang cheng gets the dogs and the xichen he deserves

once upon a dream by cafedeolla

“Xicheng soulmate AU

An au where your dreams are small snippets of your soulmate’s day. They’d show small things like buying coffee, reading a book, or hanging out with people from their perspective.

The problem was that people always have expectations and Jiang Cheng knows he always falls short of them. Time and time again.“

soulmate au, but being soulmates is more a problem than a solution

misunderstandingssss all over the place

now with a squel (in progress?)

Lan Furen series by jagaimocchi

“Jiang Cheng leaves Lotus Pier before the Wen Internment Camp and before the destruction of his home. When he meets Lan Xichen on the run from the Wens after the burning of Cloud Recesses, his plan to live a peaceful life away from cultivation sects is quickly derailed. Now, free to make his own choices, he cannot find it in himself to leave the other man's side.

With love, patience and time, Jiang Cheng finds his own happiness and peace with his past.“

have you ever wanted a fic where jiang cheng peaces out from home in search for a better life, bc he’s Had Enough??? jags got you covered

adorable xicheng

good uncle-dad-figure Lan Qiren

ongoing <3

Just around the riverbend by JungleJelly

“One day.

Jiang Cheng just wanted one day of peace and quiet, away from home, away from his responsibilities, away from his idiot brother and his nutcases of a mother and father. Just a few hours alone — him and a boat and nothing else.

Clearly, that was too much to ask for.”

now with a new story in the series which is adorable too!!!

mermaid!lxc need i say more?

Bad ideas (where they lead) by JungleJelly

“Jiang Cheng is a busy man. Fortunately, he is also a huge pushover when it comes to his sister, so when she recommends that he start doing yoga, he agrees pretty easily.Featuring Lan Xichen in yoga pants, Jiang Cheng’s inability to handle a crush, and, perhaps most importantly, a big fluffy dog.“

done for 2020 MXTX MiniBang

yoga instructor Lan Xichen

Jiang Cheng is: struggling with a crush on the yoga guy from youtube & very angry about that

If there’s a price for rotten judgement by TheWanderingHeart

“All Jiang Cheng wants to do is, well... his job, really. Other than that? Keep the city safe, keep his nephew alive, keep his sanity intact (if possible).

So when his brother calls with unexpected news, he knows all of that is about to fly out of the window.

***

[Every instinct is telling him don’t ask, you don’t want to know. By this point, Nie HuaiSang has scooted closer to listen. Jiang Cheng takes a steadying breath and pulls out his antacids. “What did you do?”]”

superhero au, come on

jc just trying to do his job in peace

(he can’t)

i love it so much oh my god *sobs*

The Form of Boneless Ice by TheWanderingHeart

“Mythical beasts have long ago been driven to extinction by the gentry — hunted for sport, but more importantly for their magical cores. Since then, there remains only one creature that has never been caught. The Jiang’s retreated a long time ago. Abandoning land altogether, they sought safety where the humans could not reach.It all comes to a head though, purely by chance. (Or is it by fate that a spontaneous decision allows for them to meet? If fate were a rock!) Jiang Cheng suddenly finds his whole life balanced on the head of a pin — on the flimsy promise of a human boy. In his opinion, things cannot possibly get worse!(But then they do when the Wens decide it’s finally time to search for the elusive merpeople, and suddenly nowhere is safe.)“

there she goes again, with another beautiful xicheng story full of awwww and mythology

actually one of the first xicheng fics i read

i chose it because there were mermaids

painfully accurate takes on Jiang family dynamics

kids! lots of kids!

Let me Slytherin to Your Heart by TheWanderingHeart

“Jiang Cheng never thought he'd return to Hogwarts, but in hindsight, he probably should have known that someday he would.With his nephew about to start school, he reluctantly takes his good friend's bad parenting? career? advice and ends up tumbling head-first back into the madness that he hoped he'd left behind... and rediscovering some feelings he thought he'd left behind too.“

Harry Potter au!

just really fecking cute

lots of snakes

[I am not going to link all of Jo’s fics, though I probably could, just my 3 favourites. UOSB is there by default]

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

“Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.“

done for 2019 MXTX Big Bang

uuuuuuuuuuh i might have cried maybe

heartwarming? painful at times? lots of family love?

slowburn xicheng being lovely

The Provenence of Hope series by velithya

“A chance meeting on a night hunt sets a course of events into motion that will change everything. Featuring Xicheng getting together, recovery for Lan Xichen, healing for Jiang Cheng, and always, always, hope.“

got everything. feels. hope. love. ~~healing~~

A Small Measure of Peace by Sandstone112

“With his brother in seclusion, Lan Xichen finds himself in temporary custody of his nephew with little to no expertise in the child-raising department. Uncertain and alone, Zewu-Jun is willing to do everything to be the person Yuan needs—even if it means inviting Sandu Shengshou to a playdate.“

a loooot of adorable family times with jc and lxc taking care of their nephews

good grandpa lqr!

canon but fixed and less painful

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋if you wish to avoid scurvy:🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Some day I’m gonna make you mine series by locketofyourhair

xicheng getting together through the years

friends with benefits but the real benefits are the friends we made along the way

Take me over (take me tonight) by velithya

jiang cheng has a tattoo and lan xichen doesn’t stand a chance

i'd be the sweet feeling of release (mankind now dreams of) by piyo13

two bros, chilling in a cave, no feet apart because they don’t want to lose their cultivation powers what are you gonna do

haven’t read yet and shame on me, but AM GONNA:

Upon Our Silver Bridge by TheWanderingHeart obviously

““When the path ignites a soul, there's no remaining in place. The foot touches ground, but not for long.” ― Hakim Sanai

**

Lan Xichen's sorrows have caught the attention of something. Unlike the adventures and foes they have faced before, there is no obvious enemy here to defeat. If this is the same thing they thought had taken Nie Mingjue's life, then he believes it is fated for him to die as well. Nothing can stop the black fire when it wants to burn.Jiang Cheng is sure his part in this is over. Wei Wuxian is back, his grand adventure concluded, and he'd never been at the centre of it anyway. So what does it matter what happens to him in the end? Slowly, he will come to realise that there will always be a battle to fight, a story to tell, a choice to make, and there is no such thing as an end to anything.“

it was difficult to do things in 2020 and few i regret not doing more than not reading uosb yet :’(

i will tho

Emergency Help Wanted by piyo13

“EMERGENCY HELP WANTED I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.“

Running Our Hands Through Embers by MarvelousMar

“If asked, Jiang Cheng would compare falling in love with Lan Xichen to a moth inevitably drawn to a flame.It burned.***In which Jiang Cheng discovers that even death can't help him escape from his trauma, so he embarks on a quest to save the people he loves, fix what he can, make the love of his life fall for him, and maybe, somewhere along the way, do a little bit of healing.”

The Beginner’s Guide to Moving On by InvincibleMel

gone from ao3, but i think there’s a link with a pdf going around

#xicheng #fic rec #Jiang Cheng #lan xichen #mdzs #the untamed #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mo dao zu shi

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

#ten scenarios #ten imagines #ten smut #ten fic #wayv imagines #wayv smut #wayv fic #wayv scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct fic #ambw scenarios #kpop ambw #ambw fic #ambw imagines #ambw smut #nct ambw #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct angst #wayv angst #ambw fluff #ambw angst #ambw

[theyaskedmeto]

A Rainy Late Afternoon in the Bakery

pairing: kurt x blaine

summary: Icing cakes can be hard, and even more of a hurdle when there's a handsome stranger standing by the counter.

notes: This little oneshot is set in Arundel, a place I have actually been!! It's this little historic town with a big ass castle and cathedral and loads of charity shops. If you ever get the chance to go, give it a visit :)

Hope you enjoy this small thing I've finally written!

meet!cute, bakery!au

Read on AO3

-----

Cake decorating takes a lot of time and precision, which was something Kurt Hummel had discovered over the years through his passion and love for baking - cake being the primary contender for that passion.

He was reminded of that very fact just twenty minutes to closing time on a rainy Thursday afternoon, very close to tears as he hastily continued to mix the icing sugar into the buttercream, setting his Kenwood mixer to the highest speed. The icing was still much too runny to be used as a reliable implement to decorate his newly baked raspberry and white chocolate sponge, and he already knew he’d be staying up late to finish it for tomorrow’s selection of freshly baked cakes and other sweet goods.

It wasn’t Kurt’s original plan of action to move to England and start a little bakery in a small but incredibly tasteful village in the South East, but after realizing the pressure of college was too much for him in New York, he turned to a completely fresh start, and an apprenticeship in baking in the UK seemed like the perfect answer (as dramatic as it felt at the time).

It certainly wasn’t his original dream, either. Growing up, he envisioned himself as a famous designer, ordering models to change into outfit after outfit - in clothes that he designed, at that - but his dreams changed quite drastically after finally realising the realities of adult life. College was hard - the stress was too much, and he never really fitted in the way his younger self had always imagined he would have done - and through the pitiful emotions, he rediscovered baking - something that his now late mother had taught him many years ago. It was something he could control, and, although it was deflating when the design of one of his cakes he’d imagined didn’t turn out the way he’d wanted it to, it was another form of art he was able to master. Finding recipes, discovering new techniques - all of it was inspiring, bringing him ideas in a way that fashion design did not.

So he gave the fashion dream up and moved abroad. It was a big change, but he needed it greatly, devoid of the deep feeling of missing his father that washed over him with every passing day.

It was okay, though. Kurt and Burt stayed in touch regularly, and Kurt was happily able to lose himself in cake decorating rather than wallowing in his pity.

Although, it didn’t help that sometimes his career did bring him pity, as it did in a final moment of understanding after tasting his buttercream, that he was going to have to start again. Letting out a defeated groan, Kurt threw his head into his hands with his elbows leaning on the counter. Today was not his day. Far from it, in fact. Only a few customers, running low on icing sugar and then making some buttercream that was far too sweet for even the greatest sugar enthusiast to enjoy. In that moment, Kurt wished it was tomorrow. Or a few weeks later, at most.

Ten minutes till closing time. He was going to have to leave the back room and embrace the weather in all its rainy glory soon, walking through the winding streets to his house near the Wey and Arun canal. It was impractical to drive such a short distance, so before his departure to work in the morning, he was sure to bring all the necessary waterproof equipment - a precaution he wasn’t prepared to take in his first few months of living in England, because it was cold, even when he didn’t realise how much of an impact the weather would have on him here.

Just as Kurt was about to resort to adding another half a teaspoon of vanilla bean paste to his mixture, he heard the tell-tale sound of the bell ringing as a customer entered, and Kurt could even recognise the hasty movements of said customer before he witnessed them.

Walking around to the front of the bakery, through the back room and behind the counter, dusting off the remains of icing sugar powder from his artisan denim apron, Kurt finally examined the (rather wet) customer peering at the array of cakes in the small display cabinet next to the counter.

He examined his eyes first, the way the man’s lashes fanned down perfectly onto his cheeks as he looked at the cabinet. Kurt found himself slightly starstruck as he realised the beauty of the person standing in front of him - the man’s strong shoulders, his simple smile, inquisitive eyes (Kurt saw them as the customer looked up to meet the eyes of his) - he bore a kind face.

Just as the man looked up, Kurt heard a sombre rumble of thunder outside the window as the rain pelted down relentlessly. Tightening his lips and smiling sourly, he looked again at the customer, before realising they were already speaking, and pointing at a cupcake inside the cabinet.

“Are those red velvet?”

Now shaken out of his reverie, Kurt responded: “Oh! Yes. They’re… not really my favourite, if I’m honest.”

It was a little awkward, the quietness of the little shop with the rain falling outside, Kurt just standing there as the man continued to examine the cake cabinet. Thunder continued to shake outside, the sound of it alarming the man in front of the counter who turned to look at the window and the small view of the war memorial on the high street, now tremendously covered in water, seemingly majestic with the quality of light shining on it.

Turning back, the customer let out a small hum and asked, “So you wouldn’t recommend buying them…?”

“Well. It’s not that I’d not recommend buying them, it’s just…” Kurt broke off his sentence slightly as he considered the lack of customers he’d had today - not enough, for sure - he shouldn’t be putting people off sales, that’s something his dad always told him. Making a compromise, he pointed at the selection of gingerbread men closest to him.

“I can recommend these, though.”

The customer pressed his lips together slightly and tilted his head. “Okay. Four gingerbreads then please?”

Kurt was a little intrigued by the way the man asked like it was a question, but promptly fetched a small paper bag (the logo decorated on it, of course) and gave the gingerbread man to the customer after rattling out the total. He thought a little about the man’s voice. It was nice. He’d never get tired of the British accent. Or, more specifically, British men with kind accents. When he first moved to England, he felt as if he was caught up in some incredibly middle-class romantic comedy twenty-four seven.

“Thank you.” The customer said after the baked goods were handed to him, and then quickly, just before he turned to leave, “Hey, if you ever want to discuss red velvet cake again I could maybe… get your number?”

For a moment, Kurt was minutely overcome with a flush of embarrassment that this person would ask him, but tried to push the feeling back. Even though he’d had a fair share of romantic experiences in college, it was still a thrill to realise someone was hitting on him.

“Oh! Sure… I’ll just grab my phone.”

As he spoke, he was already walking around the back to where he’d left his phone, hanging up in his coat pocket, and when he passed the mess of icing sugar bags and butter left out, his side jostled an open box slightly, resulting in him being covered completely in icing sugar powder.

There was now icing sugar all over his new denim apron. Cursing under his breath slightly, he made it to his phone, and unlocked it as he walked back behind the counter.

Returning to see the man still patiently waiting, fingers clasped together in front of himself with a contented smile on his face (although Kurt could had an inkling that that smile was just plastered on for politeness, which did intrigue him slightly), Kurt hastily handed him his phone, now considerably more messy than he previously was when he went to fetch it. For a moment, there was a slight sense of awkwardness where neither said anything, and Kurt only heard a quiet ‘okay…’ from the man in front of him as he entered his number into the contacts app.

Kurt found himself pressing his lips together awkwardly once again, still aware of the silence of the room in contrast to the harsh rain outside.

The sense of awkwardness and silence was quickly over, however, when the customer (Blaine was his name, Kurt noticed as he looked at the contact in his phone) handed Kurt his phone back - “All done. Great!” was what Blaine said, to which Kurt responded with a quick “I’ll… text you.” - Kurt already felt himself being surrounded by an eased aura, which wasn’t something he had really felt before.

“Cool. Send me a message.” Blaine was already speaking, and already reaching for the door as he did so. “Maybe we could meet sometime? LG cafe, maybe?”

“Of course.”

With another one of those quick smiles Blaine The Stranger opened the bakery door with nothing so much as an “Alright then,” expressed slightly softly, and soon he was leaving, out into the rain once more, the heavy door banging closed with its own weight and the bell ringing its sound, the sound Kurt recognised so clearly now as just another customer leaving his little shop.

But maybe this wasn’t just another customer.

#bakery au #kurt x blaine #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #glee #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #english!blaine #meet cute #klaine

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 1

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one. 

Writer’s Note: Hi!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,” he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

[californiannostalgia]

Tangled the Series Character Analysis: Childhood Trauma POV

I can't believe Tangled the Series really created two incredible antivillains and threw them in direct contrast with the pre-existing golden couple. I love what the showrunners did with the main quartet, so I made a very subjective analysis post about it from a Childhood Trauma POV. (Spoilers, obviously.)

The Boys

The series' focus is on Rapunzel, and by association her direct opposite, Cassandra, so the boys get comparatively less screen time. But it doesn't take long to figure out that Varian is meant to be a parallel for Eugene—these are two people dealing with the absence of parental guardians, struggling to reconcile the lives they previously had with their changing ideals in relation to a less-than-perfect Father Figure.

They both respond to the helpless state of being young, alone, and powerless by trying to take back power in any way they can. Eugene reinvented himself and buried his desires for a family. Varian throws in everything he has into recovering what he lost, because he's a child and the best solution he can think of is to return to the familiar safety of his father's presence. A significant portion of his desperation is fueled by fear of his father’s disapproval, because as much as Quirin loves Varian, he wasn’t the dependable voice of support. Varian needs approval from outside sources, which was also Flynn Rider’s purpose in life, once upon a time. (Again, parallels.) 

Throughout the series, the boys' relationship with each other transforms from exasperated incomprehension to easy understanding. The process is hastened as Eugene lets himself realize he cares a lot about troubled kids who remind him of himself. He becomes aware that children should not be required to survive on their own like he and Lance had. Spurred on by his significant other's love and encouragement, Eugene is able to acknowledge the adverse affects of his childhood on his life and start moving on. His extending a ready hand to Varian is his process of healing. Though Eugene's first priority will always be Rapunzel, he truly wants to save Varian from the uncontrollable volatility of risky decisions because he knows that downward spiral intimately.

Of course, there is a difference between thieving from the rich and planning the destruction of a kingdom. We'll get to that later.

The Girls

Rapunzel and Cassandra are the biggest driving forces of narrative power in the show, and they are survivors of child abuse. Every one of the main quartet has Parent Issues, but Rapunzel takes the crown (figuratively speaking) with this one. She was kidnapped and groomed into a life-giving doll, and she was only able to escape her abusive adoptive mother through incredibly traumatizing means. For Cassandra, it was neglect, and even her loving adoptive father couldn't leviate the scars left on her childhood mind.

They're a classic case of Golden Child vs. Scapegoat, which is a common case seen in siblings raised by Narcissistic parents. When one child is "favored" more than the other, the kids experience vastly different childhoods, resulting in resentment that stems from their inability to understand each other. Rapunzel and Cassandra are both jealous of what the other had—Rapunzel wants Cassandra's casual, practiced ease with freedom and personal agency, while Cassandra wants the attention and respect that Rapunzel is given by the status of her birth. Because they're unwilling to speak candidly about the unique hardships of their childhood, what results is a series of miscommunications that put a strain on their friendship.

Cassandra and Rapunzel both want the other in their lives, but how they attempt to make that connection is very different. Cassandra wants to be a helpful, essential force in Rapunzel's life. Unfortunately, Rapunzel has been raised on the idea that when push comes to shove, no one will help her survive. Cassandra interprets Rapunzel's desire for independence as Rapunzel scorning the connection that Cassandra is attempting to create. Add in some manipulation from an ancient evil, and Cassandra decides she is done exhausting her emotions for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel, on the other hand, wants absolute honesty in her relationships. Gothel raised her on lies, so she spurns deception. But Cassandra knows the merits of protecting herself by holding her opinions in, which is where the misunderstandings occur. Rapunzel cannot trust someone who isn't completely forthright with her. She's tired of dealing with liars, and she grows afraid that Cassandra will cause her the same pain as Gothel did. But the thing is, Cassandra is not Gothel, and Rapunzel loved Gothel. She couldn't save Gothel, but maybe she can save Cassandra. It's not too late.

Rapunzel doesn't know when to give up on Cassandra because she is aware that she and Cassandra are similar people. Giving up on Cassandra would feel too much like giving up on her own hopes for a happy life. Rapunzel can't let Cassandra be unhappy. This princess cares too much, loves too hard. She never learned how to write people off because you can't survive a childhood like hers with that much cheer if you don't hang onto your optimism like a goddamn lifeline.

This is Rapunzel’s method of taking back power for herself: saving others. Rapunzel could have been Cassandra. Rapunzel is trying to believe she herself is worth saving—therefore, Cassandra must be worth saving as well. Rapunzel's significant other is giving her a stable source of love and support, but without a proper resolution to Cassandra's struggles—a final proof that despite Gothel's influence, they can both be happy—Rapunzel would feel incomplete.

The Golden Couple

At the end of the day, Rapunzel and Eugene are fundamentally good people. If it comes down to it, they would be unable to sacrifice the world for their own desires. (Eugene's thievery doesn't count as an expression of true desire because it was literally his method of survival. An expression of true, selfish desire for him might've been something like manipulation and abduction for the purposes of making people stay, but Eugene is not Gothel and he would never do that to anyone in a million years.) (On a side note, Rapunzel's selfish desire might've manifested in the abandonment of all duties and personal connections in favor of eternal exploration, or revenge towards a kingdom that failed to save her, or a thorough destruction of authority figures—but she loves people too much and would never be able to forsake her family.)

Life threw a lot of rocks at them, but these two came through it marginally well-adjusted. They affirmed their love for each other in a violent, unforgettable manner, which makes it easier for them to trust in each other's affection. Eugene would've been okay with never finding his biological father, just as Rapunzel had been okay with her biological parents' inability to protect her. They have no wish to punish the world for what they suffered. They’re content with who they are. They're just glad they made it, that they're finally allowed to love someone without being afraid. They're each other's saving grace.

The Antivillains

This is the difference between Hero and Antivillain: Cassandra and Varian are willing to punish the world for what happened to them. There’s a very faint line between justified retaliation and venting. In their desperation and anger, they cross the line, and they’re unable to stop themselves once they get going. Unlike the Golden Couple, Cassandra and Varian refuse to settle. They want what is owed. 

Also, they really, really hate themselves. (This is important.)

Varian believes Quirin is the ultimate source of affirmation. The fact that he lost his father by way of his own dangerous experiment, coupled with the fact that no one prioritizes his call for help in the face of national disaster, is enough to make him feel isolated from the world. Though he is burdened with a growing sense of remorse for his deeds, he doesn’t stop resorting to drastic, harmful measures to get his father back until he is forcefully stopped by betrayal from his allies. He finally makes the full transition from “antagonist” to “protagonist” when Rapunzel risks herself to save Quirin from the rocks. If Quirin could not be saved, there’s a possibility Varian might have stayed an antagonist, unenthusiastic though he may have been in his villainous role. As long as Quirin is trapped in those rocks, Varian remains the villain who put him there.

With Quirin safe, Varian allows himself to take huge steps in healing. He slowly rediscovers his self-worth, one that is separate from Quirin’s approval. Rapunzel—and by extension, Eugene—play the friendly, supportive role to Varian’s ingenuity, helping him along in his quest for self-acceptance. Varian still has trouble working through the heavily ingrained self-hatred, but he recovers enough confidence in his own judgment that he takes Eugene’s warning to heart and is able to install a safety device in his father’s helmet, just in case.

This is the Varian who meets Cassandra in the Tower that once belonged to Gothel. At this point in time, Cassandra has been manipulated into thinking of herself as weak and unimportant in comparison to Rapunzel. Her adoptive father, much like Quirin, was too gruff to be vocal with approvals. Her efforts have not been met with successes. She feels like a failure, and she hates feeling like a failure. This is Cassandra’s method of taking back power: by turning herself into someone unforgettable. If she can make something of herself, she’ll finally be able to prove Gothel wrong. She can be just as special as Rapunzel, if she’s given the chance. She wants that chance.

Similar to Varian, Cassandra doesn’t stop her downward spiral until her supposed ally and mentor betrays her and forcefully takes her power away. Only when there are no options left does she allow herself to admit that she was wrong. She is then rewarded for her honesty with Rapunzel’s love and trust. Armed with a new confidence, the sisters vanquish the evil together in an epic showdown that will long be remembered. Cassandra finally gets her dramatic hero’s tale.

Rapunzel and Eugene have an internal compass that lets them make snap decisions. They don’t have the healthiest self-esteem, but they can at least stand by what they think is right. Comparatively speaking, Cassandra and Varian have terrible self-esteem. They don’t trust their own judgment and are heavily influenced by outside forces. Without the constant barrage of trust and affection from Rapunzel, who is akin to a blazing sun when it comes to personal loyalty, these antivillains might never have reached their redemptive ending. They wouldn’t have been able to let go of their twisted priorities without outside influence. Can’t blame them for it, though.

It’s no surprise that Cassandra and Varian are relatable to many people. Who wouldn’t want to reclaim what was taken from them during childhood? (Of course, the problem occurs when you start hurting others to reclaim what you lost.) Their journey is a different kind of vulnerable from Rapunzel and Eugene’s journey, and it’s extraordinary in its detail. This show is essentially a long exploration of the various ways a parent can mess you up and the coping methods of kids who want to become more than their past, which is totally up my alley of expertise. I’m grateful I got to watch them grow taller than their trauma.

Finally, here’s a parting gif of Lance, because I love him and he’s a well-adjusted ray of sunshine. We all wish we could be as mentally stable as Lance—the main quartet included.

#tangled the series #rapunzel #cassandra #varian #eugene fitzherbert #character analysis #my thoughts #child abuse #trauma recovery #when the villain origin story is self-hatred

[curiousconstellations]

The Price of a Bean and the Cost of Love

Summary: With no clue how to defeat a villain the town can’t remember, Hook and Emma venture to the Enchanted Forest to retrieve some magical items from the Evil Queen’s castle. Along the way, they rediscover the connection they shared before they were separated by worlds a year ago. 3B canon divergence, Rated T, 8k, also on AO3 here

A/N: Happy Holidays @phiralovesloki​ I’m your CS Secret Santa! I hope this little fic will bring you some cheer to this wild year :) Honestly I had so many ideas after revisiting season 3 that I’m definitely down to write more S3 renaissance/divergence fics from now on!

Thank you @cssecretsanta2020​ for another great event!

-/-

The more frequently they host these hushed conversations by the fireplace, the more Emma grows to despise the décor of Granny’s B&B, however cozy it may be. It’s difficult to keep Henry safe whilst also keeping him away from these discussions of the Enchanted Forest and curses and magic, so the common area of the B&B is the best option when she knows he is tucked away asleep upstairs.

Her parents and Regina are going back and forth at each other while Hook stands by the fire, raising an eyebrow every time Regina fires an insult or her mother shoots down Regina’s suggestions with judgement.

“Well, even if we could figure out who did this, they’ve done a spectacular job of making sure I can’t fight back by stripping my entire vault of anything magical that could help. I bet it’s all just sitting back at the castle, wilting away like this damn town will under this curse.” Regina bites out angrily.

They all silently reflect on her words and Emma can’t help but wish she were back in New York right now. At least then her issues would be about prying Henry away from his video games long enough to sleep and do homework, not trying to protect him from some unknown fairy tale villain who had cursed their family and friends and was turning people into flying monkeys. God, what is her life?

“What if we could retrieve some things from your castle?” Hook asks, everyone swinging their heads up to look at him curiously.

“What the hell do you mean, pirate?” Regina demands. Hook sighs and pinches his nose; a gesture Emma finds herself sympathizing with when dealing with Regina.

“I mean that I have a way of returning to the Enchanted Forest. I can use it to fetch your magical goods and then you can do your thing with your little bottles and jars and we can resolve all of this.”

“And how exactly do you have a way of getting back there?” David asks suspiciously. Hook fishes in his jacket pocket and reveals a magic bean, rolling it between his fingers slowly.

“I procured two beans, the first I used to get to Emma in New York. The second, well let’s just say I had it saved for a rainy day. Now, this cursed business is really only a slight drizzle for me, but if it will help, the offer stands.” The offer had mostly been made to Regina, but Emma finds Hook’s gaze on her. She’s pretty sure he was not offering this bean for Regina’s sake.

“Well, I don’t trust you to go alone.” Regina shrugs. Hooks rolls his eyes upward in frustration and Emma’s lips twitch a little. The man is not particularly good at hiding his emotions.

“I’ll go too.”

Her words are met with immediate disagreement from her parents, but she patiently waits for them to finish their complaints before speaking.

“Look, you’re all cursed. As far as we know, you can’t leave town let alone jump through a portal. Hook and I are the only people not affected by the curse. He brought me here to help, so this is something I can help with. I’m the saviour after all.” Emma sighs, glaring at her parents until they surrender.

“Is this even necessary? Regina, I’m sure you can cope without your things for now. We can find another way to figure out who cast the curse and defend ourselves if need be.” Snow says firmly, David backing her up with an affirmative nod and a squeeze of her shoulder.

“Isn’t it better to have and not need, than need and not have?” Hook interjects.

“See? The pirate gets it. He’s willing to give up a bean for this. What would the town say if they find out their royal highnesses didn’t do everything they could to protect them?” Regina says smugly.

“Look, guys, enough. Hook and I will go get Regina’s magical crap from the castle, end of discussion. I don’t like not having all the tools possible to face who or whatever this is.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan.” Regina says, her tone indicating it was more of a dig at her parents than actual gratitude.

“Fine. But how will you get back? You only have one bean.” David asks. Emma looks to Hook for answers, considering this was his plan to begin with. He catches her eye and clears his throat with an awkward scratch of his ear.

“I can get another bean from the same seller. I know where he is.” Emma knows he’s hiding something, and she plans on pushing him on it later, but for now she lets it slide.

“Well, how do you know that he has more, or that you can get one from him? It’s a bit of a precarious plan, especially now my daughter is coming.” David replies roughly.

“I trust that Hook will get us back, okay. We should probably get going soon and I want to say goodbye to Henry first. I know you’ll all take care of him, but he’ll think I’m leaving him with strangers, and I don’t want him to worry.” Emma heads upstairs before more disagreements break out, exhaling with relief at the tiny amount of peace the dark, quiet hallway provides.

She wakes Henry to explain that she needs to go somewhere else for work, but she will be back in no time. He’s sleepy and confused, but he smiles when she says he will be treated to all the ice cream from the mayor he wants and some lovely meals from her friends (yes, the one that was apparently her cellmate). Emma hugs him tightly and says goodnight once again, watching over him for a moment before turning off the light and closing the door.

“You don’t have to come along, Swan.” Hook says softly from behind her as he exits his own room.

“And let you have all the fun trashing Regina’s castle? I don’t think so.” She scoffs. They share a brief look, and, in this moment, she is particularly grateful for this uncanny ability they seemed to have developed of understanding each other with a single glance. It’s simultaneously terrifying and comforting to know Hook can read her so well.

Emma says goodbye to her parents while Hook gets strict rules from Regina about what to do in her castle and he looks like he’d rather switch places with her and be hugging David right now. She’s hoping they will be back pretty soon but and she’s putting all her faith in Hook’s suspiciously vague plan to get them another bean home, but her trust in him grows each time he does something selfless, chipping away at her suspicions with his surprising decency and kindness.

They head out the back behind the B&B, the frosty air nipping at her skin as she shivers. Hook’s breath comes out in clouds when he offers her one last chance to back out, but Emma simply shakes her head, and he tosses the bean on the grass. The portal swirls in front of them and a second later they’re jumping through in a dizzy haze of flashing lights and crackling sounds.

With a rough landing in between some trees and a distinct shift in the atmosphere, Emma knew they had made it to the Enchanted Forest. Well, running back to New York wasn’t exactly an option anymore.

-/-

“I walked around the Enchanted Forest in my normal clothes last time, I don’t see why it’s an issue now.” Emma grumbles, fighting with the heavy material of the skirt they had nabbed from a clothing line. Hook had already explained it to her, but he indulges her complaints nevertheless.

“We don’t know what or who has been left here after the curse. Looking like you’re from another world is a sure-fire way to gain attention, and we want to get in and back as soon as possible, right lass?” He smirks at her grumbled response as they continue down the path in the forest, squinting at the peak of the castle ahead of them. They had been walking for some time; unfortunately, the bean did not let him pick an arrival spot closer to the castle. He had thought that perhaps this time alone with Emma would be pleasant, perhaps even a time for them to reconnect after being separated for a year, but so far Emma appears to be preoccupied with her own thoughts.

“Did you miss going on adventures with me while you were in New York?” He asks teasingly, glancing over at Emma as she scoffs.

“You bet. The Big Apple had nothing on trekking through trees and beanstalks in strange lands with a pirate.” She replies humorously.

“The Big Apple?”

“It’s a nickname for New York.”

“Your land never ceases to confuse me, Swan.”

“Yeah, well, staying in New York would have meant not having to deal with the confusion of curses and villains.” He can sense the shift in Emma’s attitude with her bitter words and he sighs.

“So, you would have preferred it if I had left you alone in your new life.”  

“I’m glad you came and gave me my memories back, but you have to understand how hard it’s been for me leaving that life of blissful ignorance to the existence of…all of this.” Emma waves her hands around, gesturing at the land they’re in.

“You act like knowing of the existence of magic and fairy tales is a burden. But don’t you ever think about what it has to offer, what it’s already given you?”

“When magic was the entire reason for me growing up alone? For my parents being cursed twice now? For Neal’s crappy childhood and Regina killing a bunch of people and countless other shitty things? Sorry, I’m just a little preoccupied dealing with all of that that see the beauty in it.” Emma speeds up her steps and Hook strides to match her pace. She’s clearly jaded, and she has every right to be, but he feels like he should be doing more to reason with her. He suspects that her dismissal of magic and this world will cause a chasm soon enough, pulling her further away and back into the noisy streets of the city she seems to love so much.

They continue along the path in relative silence, jumping into the trees when they hear the odd carriage or footsteps ahead as a precaution to avoid potential foes or having to explain who they are. Hook can feel the air cooling as the day progresses and he’s concerned about the few hours of daylight they have left. He hadn’t thought that they could achieve everything in a single day, but Emma’s cold demeanor had put him off broaching the topic of resting come nightfall.

The castle soon becomes visible as the trees thin and the path becomes wider. Hook is surprised that no one is around. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he had wondered if some strays left behind from the curse would ransack it or something. From appearances, it had been left alone, which was a good sign for collecting all of the necessary items Regina requested.

“The way Regina talked about this place I thought it would be beautiful, but honestly it’s kind of ugly.” Emma comments, making eye contact with him for the first time in over an hour. He smirks, nodding in agreement and pleased they can at least mock the architecture together.

“Aye, her taste is indeed questionable.”

“It’s weird to think my grandparents lived here, that my mom grew up here. I feel so disconnected from all of this.” Emma admits as they walk up the stairs to the main entrance. It’s so eerily quiet that Hook is reminded of the curse that hit everyone here, snatching them away to the land without magic. Their trek to the castle and his concerns of Emma’s longing for her old life had almost made him forget why they were here in the first place.

“Perhaps that is something you could discuss with your mother. Maybe hearing stories of her childhood and your grandparents will help you appreciate this part of your life more.”

“So that I won’t want to go back to New York you mean?” Emma asks flatly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that, like you said, you are disconnected from your history here, and maybe understanding it more will help you better accept magic being in your life.” Hook shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalant. Emma hums suspiciously and he realizes he really has no ability to pretend anything other than the truth with her.

“And perhaps I don’t want to say goodbye again.” He adds boldly. Since Emma regained her memories, he’s been dancing around his feelings for her, prioritizing her return to town and figuring out the business of this new curse. After all, she was juggling her cursed parents and her son’s own sheltered memories, she hardly needed him making things more difficult.

“There is a lot of New York you haven’t seen yet. There’s more to the city than the inside of a jail cell.” She jokes, giving him a lopsided smile. They’ve reached the main entrance now, the doors grand and intimidating in their aggressive spikes and bolts as deterrents. Hook pulls on the large handle, the door creaking loudly in the otherwise quiet entrance. The immediate hall inside is empty, no guards or thieves in sight, and they step in apprehensively.

“Are you suggesting I should come to the city with you, if you were to return?” He asks as Emma glances around in wonder.

“Well, I-” She starts, but she suddenly stops and slams into him, knocking them both to the floor as streaks of fire blaze above them. The fire singes the floor right where they had stood, fizzling out after scorching most of the entranceway. Hook looks around frantically, not seeing anyone around to cause balls of fire to hurdle at them. Emma’s heavy skirts and cloak are draped over him, her hair tickling his face as she moves off him with a groan.

“I’m sorry, it just came out of nowhere and I reacted.” She sits up awkwardly, looking around to see if any more fire could come their way as she shifts her cloak back over her bodice correctly and puffing out her now red cheeks.

“No worries, lass. I’m impressed by your quick reaction.” Hook replies as he stands, offering her his hand to help her up.

“I deal with some shifty people at work, I’ve got to be fast.” Emma shrugs. He delicately moves a curl of her hair back in place, catching her eyes as he does so. It’s the softest she’s looked since he found her in New York, a look he hadn’t seen since they said goodbye at the town line a year ago. It lasts only a moment before she looks away, but he’ll hold onto it as a sign that whatever formed between them in the cruel humidity of Neverland still lingered in her soul.

They cautiously proceed through the castle towards Regina’s tower, both on the lookout for other apparent protection spells that were still in effect. He wondered if they would find some hint of what happened before the curse, but everything seemed normal, at least for the castle of the Evil Queen. Once they find her room, they quickly grab bottles and books and trinkets from the vanity, tossing them into a sack he had in his pocket.

“Regina said she has a room where she keeps more things, but it’s sealed with blood magic so this will have to suffice.” Hook tells Emma as she sniffs one of the bottles and grimaces.

“And no doubt she will blame us if this stuff isn’t what she needs.” Emma scoffs. The setting sun reflects off the vanity mirror and Emma’s hair shines in the hazy orange glow. He admires her for a moment before stepping away to stand at the balcony, looking out the stretch of land ahead and the pastel colours of the sunset. Emma soon joins him, and they stand together and watch the changing colours of the sky in silence.

“I don’t know how Regina could stand here and see something so beautiful out there and want to retreat into this cold, dark palace.” Emma says quietly.

“Maybe she was scared of the potential life outside of this, so she retreated to something familiar.” He replies, glancing over at Emma to see his meaning was not lost on her by the way she shakes her head. He thinks she’s ready to launch into another defence of her wanting to go back to New York, but she doesn’t say anything. To his surprise, she shuffles closer and rests her head on his shoulder. They stay like that for a while, until a chill settles over them and Emma sighs wistfully.

“So where is this bean seller?” She asks, pulling her cloak around herself with a shiver.

“He should be down by the water. But we should rest for the night. It’s a bit of a walk to the port, even longer and more hazardous in the dark.” Hook replies, his stomach sinking at the thought of the next part of their quest.

“Okay, but I don’t want to stay here. I’m sure the beds in the guest rooms are nice but this place freaks me out. Is there an inn or something close by? Preferably somewhere we could find some kind of food.” Emma laughs lightly when her stomach rumbles mid-sentence.

“Aye, there’s a tavern in a village close by, if we leave now, perhaps we can make it by the light that’s left of the day. I have no idea if anyone will be there, but there may be something left behind we could salvage to eat.” Hook grabs the sack of magical items and swings it over his shoulder, ushering Emma ahead as they quickly descend from the tower.

He keeps close to Emma as they walk in the dusky light, glancing ahead as the individual trees of the forest become indiscernible and form an ominous tunnel of darkness.

“Why did you have two beans?” Emma asks, her voice breaking the quietness of the night.

“Well, why not?” He evades with a cheeky tone.

“You said you were saving it for a rainy day. I get being prepared for the worst, but it seemed like you had a specific purpose for it.” Hook thinks for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell the truth. He thinks of her head on his shoulder earlier and the way it felt so simple and easy to stand by her side in peace.

“I got a second one in case you wanted me to leave.”

“Leave?” Emma asks incredulously.

“You had a life in Storybrooke with the town and your family, and then again in New York with your boy. I came to bring you back to them, but I never had a place in that life of yours. I have stayed for the possibility that I could, but if you wished that I didn’t, I would return here and never burden you again.” Hook tugs on the sack awkwardly as they walk, almost wishing he could see her face but also relieved to be shielded by the darkness.

Emma is quiet, and the longer she doesn’t speak, the more anxious he becomes. She could easily turn around right now and tell him she does want him to leave her life, and the thought makes his chest ache.

“You’re not a burden, Hook.” She says quietly. He takes that as the smallest of victories and relaxes a little. He thinks she’s about to say more when she suddenly trips, slipping onto the ground with a painful groan.

“Swan!” He tosses the sack down and kneels beside her, widening his eyes in the dark as if that would help him see better.

“I think I hit my…” Emma mumbles. Hook gently touches her face, feeling blood already forming at the cut at her temple. He kicks around and feels a rock on the path just as Emma turns on the ground and retches.

“Concussion.” She mutters, slumping against his chest.

“Aye, that was a nasty hit to the side of your head, lass.” He says softly as he brushes her hair away from the cut. She’s in no state to continue walking, but there’s no way they can stop here for the night; she’ll certainly need food and water to ease her discomfort. He reaches for the sack and loops the string over his hook before scooping her up in his arms, much to her disoriented chagrin.

“Down, I’ve had this loads before.”

“Doesn’t matter how often this happens to you, Swan. I’m not having you wander about in the dark in this state. You’ll end up knocking me out too with your stumbling.” He teases lightly. She grumbles something unintelligible, but he takes her burrowing herself against him as resignation. Hook watches her close her eyes and furrow her brows and he hopes he can reach that damn tavern soon.

-/-

 A wave of nausea hits Emma when she opens her eyes, the image of the room feeling like a puzzle her brain is too slow to piece together. A candle flickers on the other side of the room, the dancing flame making her unsteady vision worse. She slides up the bed she lays in, wincing in discomfort. Looking around the room at the simple décor, she assumes this is the tavern. To her left is another single bed, the sack of Regina’s things sitting on top along with Hook’s jacket. There is a cup and a pitcher of water on the small table in the middle of the beds and she clumsily pours some and takes a slow drink, her dry lips and throat relieved to feel the liquid.

She tentatively reaches up to touch her head, feeling a small bandage across the cut on her temple, her hair damp from what she hopes is the water used to clean the wound and not blood. The door creaks open and Emma is relieved to see Hook.

“Ah good, you’re awake.” He says softly. She notices the plate he’s carrying and practically salivates at the thought of food, but he puts it down on the table and stands beside her bed, gently lifting her chin up with his fingers.

“Your eyes look alert, I’m sure some colour will come back to your cheeks once you’ve eaten.” His fingers are warm against her skin and she feels cold as soon as his hand slips away.

“I was able to bring up some cheese and a small amount of bread, but Sylvia won’t allow any hot food in the rooms. If you are feeling well enough, we can go down a bit later for something more.” Hook explains as he passes her the plate of the ration sized portions of bread and cheese.

“Sylvia?” She asks before tucking in, happy to have a least something to put in her stomach.

“The owner of the tavern. Turns out, the curse left a few people from different villages all over. A lot of them gathered here after the curse hit and made their own sort of village. It’s a lively little place.”

“Does anyone know what happened?”

“Not in any great detail. Some were outside of the boundaries and saw it descend, but they didn’t know why. They said it was a green fog that seemed to appear from Regina’s castle. They’ve all been too scared to go there in case its dangerous, but no one knows who cast it or why.” Hook sits down on the other bed and slides out the flask from his jacket pocket. She watches him take a drink and longs for the pleasantly warm feeling of his rum.

“Have you eaten yet?” She asks, swallowing the last of the bread guiltily.

“I had some bread and cheese downstairs.”

“We should go get some warm food now. I’m still hungry and I bet you are too.” Emma says firmly as she moves off of the bed. Hook jumps up to stop her, his hand gently holding on to her shoulder like she’s going to break.

“Are you well enough?”

“Hook, I’m fine. It was a concussion; I’ve gotten them plenty of times when a skip is rough on the run and I still catch them every time.”

“Aye, but head injuries can be fatal. Just because you feel fine doesn’t mean you are.” He replies with concern. She rolls her eyes and tugs on his arm as she feels her stomach grumble in desire of more food, pulling him towards the door.

“And if I faint it could easily be from hunger. Come on.”

Hook leads the way down the stairs to the common area of the tavern, the old place dimly lit with candles scattered about, leaving pools of melted wax around them. Emma hears the buzz of chatter from the front room and is surprised to see so many people here. Hook ushers her to the table closest to the fire that was fortunately free and she hums in appreciation at the warmth. She sees him gesture to the woman behind the bar she assumes is Sylvia, who gives her a once over and smiles before leaving through the door behind her.

“The food will be here shortly, Swan.” Hook reassures her as he sits down on the bench beside her. They both soak in the heat of the fire eagerly, Hook holding out his hand in front of the flames for warmth. Emma subtly looks over him, noticing his tired eyes in the gleam of the fire and his tense shoulders. They hadn’t been able to see the light from the tavern before she hit her head, so she assumes they had still been a fair distance from it, which meant that he had walked all that way with her in his arms in the dark. He must have also tended to her wound and made sure she had a soft place to lie down when they got here.

“Hey, um, thanks for making sure I was okay.” She says awkwardly, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze. He seems surprised by her gesture, raising an eyebrow and quickly looking back at the fire.

“Of course, love.”

“And you’re not some stray dog I’m going to get rid of by the way. You’ve helped me and my family out a lot. I said that you could be part of something, and I meant it.” Emma speaks quietly, aware that they had attracted some attention from the other patrons when they came down. Hook nods and puts his hand over hers on his arm with a soft smile.

“Some warm stew for the lovebirds.” Sylvia says loudly as she comes towards them with two steaming bowls and some water. Emma gives Hook a questioning look, but he responds with his own vague expression that tells her to play along. They thank Sylvia and tuck in, Emma too grateful for the warm bowl of food to even care what’s in it. Her body instantly relaxes at the taste of food and she practically inhales the whole bowl, realizing the last warm meal she ate back in Storybrooke felt like days ago. Hook grins at her and asks Sylvia for seconds for both of them. Four bowls of stew later they turn back to the fire, feeling full, warm, and surprisingly relaxed.

“Lovebirds?” Emma murmurs to him, knocking his shoulder with her own teasingly.

“I told her you are my wife. I thought it the easiest way to explain a passed-out woman in my arms that I needed to stay with.” Hook explains sheepishly.

“I’m surprised she gave us a room with two beds then.” She scoffs.

“It was the last room left.” Hook says humorously. Emma hums in understanding but starts gnawing on her lip at the fact that a mild swell of disappointment fills her chest. She hadn’t given much thought to their sleeping arrangements beyond finding a bed outside of Regina’s castle to lie on for the night, but now that they have a room with beds of their own, she thinks about what it might have been like had there only been one. It’s ridiculous and she puts it down to the overwhelming craziness of the past few days making her yearn for some comfort and that is it.

“Disappointed, Swan?” Hook smirks, flashing her the smoldering gaze that obviously gets him a lot of attention.

“Please.” She rolls her eyes; glad her cheeks were already flushed by the fire. The heat of the fire and the tension simmering between them brings her right back to Neverland and she licks her lips at the thought of their kiss. Emma finds herself feeling the same desire to throw caution to the wind and kiss him again. It seems fitting that they are in another world again and away from her home that she can lock these moments away in the compartments of her mind that separate reality and these fantasy experiences.

Loud cheering from across the room breaks the intense gaze between them. Emma exhales and takes a drink of water, watching the group of men begin to play music. They tease each other about their singing voices as they start a song off-key, a couple of the rowdier ones getting up to dance with no coordination. The other patrons clap and cheer them on, some of them joining in with the dancing.

“Go on loves, join in!” Sylvia encourages them with a wink as she clears away their bowls. Hook grins wickedly, taking great pleasure in the way she groans with dread.

“Nope. You can’t get me up there, I have no idea what this jig type thing even is.” She says firmly, watching a couple shake their legs in strange ways as they twirl around.

“Then it’s a good thing you have a partner who knows what he’s doing.” She can’t help but stare wide eyed at Hook as he stands up, offering with his hand with a warm smile. With a wince, she puts her hand in his and lets him lead her to the middle of the room, holding on to him as he positions them for the dance.

“Remember I have a damn concussion, Hook.” Emma grumbles, breathing in sharply when he brings her closer to his chest.

“I’ll go easy on you, love.” He whispers in her ear as his stubble grazes her cheek. He guides her through some basic moves, and she feels laughter bubble up in her chest at the absurdity of the situation. They manage to jump and twist in time to the music a few times, both of them laughing at her lack of coordination despite him practically leading each of her body parts that needed to move. Emma finds herself enjoying it, giggling happily when she eventually starts to pick it up. When the music begins to pick up in tempo she sways into Hook, feeling a little overwhelmed by the fast movements. He responds by holding her waist and tucking her against his shoulder as they sway slightly. They’re no longer moving to the music, but she finds that she doesn’t care that they’re swaying slowly near the rowdy crowd still skipping about.

“How do you know how to dance like that?” Emma murmurs close to his ear.

“The crew and I would frequent taverns like this and picked it up. We even danced on the Jolly some nights, especially in the summer when the air was warm and smelled sweet.” She hears the sadness in his voice, and she realizes she doesn’t know what happened to Hook during the missing year or where his ship was.

“What happened to the Jolly?”

“An illustrious bean seller has her.” Hook says quietly, and Emma leans back to look at him. She searches his eyes, and it dawns on her what he means.

“You traded your ship for me?”

“Aye.”

She’s overwhelmed by this revelation and for the first time stops overthinking and just reacts, her lips finding his with relief. It feels warm and comforting to be in his embrace, and for the first time since leaving New York, she truly feels the spark of her old life reignited. It’s then when she feels the stir of passion and peace swell inside her a wave of exhaustion hits her and she sinks into him weakly.

“As much as I love a woman swooning at my feet Swan, you need to rest now.” Hook teases, kissing her forehead gently. They leave the boisterous fun of the tavern for the quiet chill of their room for the night and Emma practically collapses into bed, her limbs screaming out for rest. She’s already slipping into sleep when she feels Hook kiss her cheek and she dozes off to the burn of desire from the high of their kiss.

-/-

Hook wakes up to a pressure against his right side, twitching his nose at the tickle of hair. It takes him a moment to adjust to the dim light of early morning before realizing it’s Emma, pressed against him and deeply asleep still. She must have climbed into his bed at some point in the night, but he has no memory of being stirred in his sleep (he most certainly would have remembered Emma Swan coming into his bed).

The beds were small and certainly not made for two people, but he’s far from mad to have her body against his in the morning. Their kiss last night had been unexpected to say the least. Hook had been well aware that the truth of his ship’s whereabouts would come to light at some point given that they needed to find the man who had it, but he thought perhaps Emma wouldn’t realize what exactly had transpired. For the sake of their relationship, he was glad she had seemed to know the gravity of it. Hook stays in bed for a while, holding Emma as she sleeps. He dozes in and out until she begins waking up.

“Morning, Swan.” He says warmly, watching as she frowns and takes in her surroundings.

“Um, hi. I’m sorry, I was freezing.” She says all flustered, wriggling out of bed quickly.

“No worries, I was too.” Emma nods apprehensively at him, rubbing her eyes sleepily. They awkwardly dance around each other as they splash water on their faces and shrug on their cloak and jacket, ready to leave as Hook hoists up the sack. Sylvia convinces them to grab breakfast before they leave, shoving bread rolls in their hands as they head out. The port isn’t too far, but it’s another decent walk there and he’s grateful for the sustenance.

This walk feels more comfortable between them than the one to the castle and despite the awkwardness after waking up, Emma seems more relaxed now. He teases her about watching out for rocks on the path, laughing when she playfully shoves him into the grass. He feels these moments from Emma are rare, so he cherishes the sound of her laugh and the curve of her smile. They hadn’t broached the topic of New York again, and Hook thinks it best to leave it until they return to Storybrooke. Perhaps their little quest will help defeat this new foe quickly and Emma can appreciate her exposure to the magical world. Or perhaps she will decide to still go, but he can go with her. The noisy, busy streets of her city would be bearable if it meant still having her in his life.

The brilliant blue of the water rests ahead and before long he recognizes the Jolly, his heart sinking at the thought of his home belonging to another. He had wondered if he would ever see it again, which may have been the less painful scenario than seeing another captain at the helm.

“I’ll do the bargaining, lass. This is personal between Blackbeard and I, so it’s best you stay back.” Hook warns Emma as they reach the ship, still glorious and majestic in comparison to the other ships around her.

“I can hold my own, Hook. This is my bargain too, is it not?” Emma retorts. He shakes his head, wishing she hadn’t taken his words as a dismissal of her strength.

“Aye, but Blackbeard is cruel. If he sees how important this is to you, he will do something vindictive. And quite honestly, I’m concerned he will hurt you if he knows how much you mean to me.” Emma opens and closes her mouth but doesn’t seem to find the words to respond and simply nods.

She hangs back while he walks up the ramp and onto the ship, surveying the small changes made here and there. He did not see a familiar face in the crew, but most of his had been loyal and left when he did, some finding other crews to join and others venturing off elsewhere.

“Hook, as I live and breathe! I did not expect to see your sorry soul standing on this ship ever again.” Blackbeard bellows, an arrogant smile on his face.

“I’m in need of another bean.” Hook says curtly.

“You blew through the two I gave you already? What the hell are you playing at, mate?”

“Do you have another or not?”

“Aye, but the cost…do you even have anything of value left to trade?” Blackbeard inspects him, his eyes landing on the sack of Regina’s things. Hook tosses it to him, watching him catch it with intrigue.

“Take your pick.”

Blackbeard rifles through and snorts obnoxiously.

“Trinkets? Jars? What fool do you take me for? You must be desperate coming to me with this junk in search of a bean. Why do want one so badly?” Blackbeard stares intensely waiting for him to crack. Hook matches his gaze silently, but he sees Blackbeard’s eyes wander to the harbour and with a sinking feeling, Hook knows by the grin on his face that he has seen Emma.

“A woman, of course. The very same woman you needed the first bean for perhaps? She’s a beauty, that’s for sure. Well, in that case, what is she worth to you?” He challenges, smug that he has Hook in such a position.

“Name your price.” Hook grits out.

“Oh, you love her. In that case…your life of servitude for a bean. She gets the bean; I own your soul.”

Hook feels the colour drain from his face. This had been a risky plan all along, but such a bargain was so painfully steep he was taken aback. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been considering he truly does not have anything else to offer beyond his own life. But this was his plan, and he would be damned if Emma suffered because of it.

“Fine. Deal. But I get to give her the bean myself and say goodbye.” Hook says wistfully. Blackbeard actually looks surprised for a moment, but he shrugs and gives Hook the precious bean from a little pouch in his pocket, along with the sack of Regina’s apparently worthless items. He heads back to Emma, trying to keep a neutral face but struggling.

“So, you got it, right? What was the trade?”

“Here it is, Swan. Take it. You’ll be home in no time.” He evades as he curls the bean into her hand, clicking his tongue when Emma glares at him.

“Hook, what did you do to get it?”

“I’ll remain here and work for Blackbeard.”

“Okay…for how long?”

“The rest of my life I suppose.”

“No. Absolutely not, we can find another way to get back.” Emma shakes her head vehemently.

“The town needs you too much. We don’t know what has transpired while we’ve been gone, and you need to get Regina her things and be with your boy.” Hook says softly.

“They need you too.” Emma replies, reaching for his hand when he shakes his head.

“Killian…I need you.” His chest aches at the way she uses his name. Her words both fill his chest with happiness and break his heart; of course she expresses such a sentiment when they must part once more. Her fingers are laced between his and he holds her gentle hand tightly, not ready to let go.

“You don’t, Swan. You did just fine without me the for the past year.” He replies with a short humourless laugh.

“Because I didn’t remember you. If I did…I don’t think I would have started seeing Walsh. Maybe I would have-”

“No use speculating now, lass. It’s in the past, but right now you need to worry about your family and the town. Don’t worry about me.” He makes sure she has the bag of Regina’s things and kisses her cheek softly, smiling sadly when she dips her head and brushes against him.

“Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you.” She whispers.

“Good.” He responds, wishing that perhaps this goodbye will only be temporary like the last turned out to be, but the reality of Blackbeard’s bargain weighs heavily on him and Emma already feels a world away from his damned soul. They linger for a moment longer before separating, Emma exhaling and looking at the bean as she walks away from him and out of the busy docking area, turning back with a wistful smile only once. He waits until he sees her go through the portal in the distance before heading back onto the Jolly, ignoring Blackbeard’s taunts to retreat below deck.

He’s home, but without his freedom and without the woman he loves. A more sensible man would also be without hope, but when he meets the crew, he sees a few familiar faces, and the way they call him captain in hushed tones stirs something in him to fight to get back what he has lost. He’ll bide his time, but after being around the heroes, their penchant for hope has certainly inspired him.

-/-

Things never seem to slow when Emma returns. In the time that she had been gone, Regina had discovered that it had been her sister Zelena who cast the curse and she had been masquerading as Snow’s midwife. She had barely been back a day when they finally found Neal, but she lost him again just as quickly as he had come back. The reasons for returning to New York only grew with every painful and dangerous thing that happened. She even tried working on her magic and learning from Regina, but when Zelena took her newborn sibling in an attempt to cast a ridiculous time travel spell, Emma had had it.

She would be leaving for New York once her parents were settled with her brother, and not a moment later.

But the reported sighting of the Jolly Roger down by the harbour had her pause her exit plans.

Emma had avoided speaking of Hook, simply telling people when she returned that he had decided to remain in the Enchanted Forest. No one seemed convinced, but thankfully didn’t push her on it. In some twisted way she had been pleased to have so much to deal with that she didn’t have time to think about what his absence meant for her, but in quiet moments of respite, she longed for the warmth of his presence in her life.

When she gets the text about the Jolly, she races down to the docks, wishing she had taken her car as she carries Henry’s book with her rather awkwardly. She finally gets close enough to see the little figures of people walking about the deck, and if she squints really hard, she thinks she can see Hook.

It’s unmistakably him when she reaches the ship and she calls his name, smiling at his reaction as his eyes find her. She hurries up the ramp and throws her arms around him so hard the book slams into his back, causing him to chuckle into her hair.

“Hi, Swan.”

“Hi, I’m sorry I just didn’t think I’d ever really see you again. How did you get the ship back from Blackbeard? Did you use another bean to get here? How the hell does he have so many?” She rattles off, tucking the book under her arm after their embrace.

“I’ll explain all later, but more importantly, what happened here? Did you figure out who cast the curse?” He asks with concern, looking over her to make sure she was okay and frowning at the book.

“It was Regina’s sister, the Wicked Witch of the West. It was some sibling rivalry crap, but she wanted my baby brother for a time travel spell and mayhem ensued. We’ve stopped her but…I’ve lost my magic and we lost Neal.” Hook reaches out for her and she leans in to his touch, relieved to feel the spark of comfort she usually feels around him.

“I’m so sorry, Swan.”

“Look, I know how you feel about it, but I just really wanted to go back to New York after all this. Henry gave me his book to remind me of the magic that makes up our family history, and I’ve been trying but I’m just…exhausted.” Emma sighs, sinking into him when he reaches his arm out to embrace her.

“Well, I just got here, you can’t leave now.” Hook jokes softly. Emma is about to respond with a quip of her own when she sees a beam of light flash in the distance.

“What the hell is that?” Emma mutters, trying to figure out where the light was coming from. She has a horrible suspicion that it may be coming from the barn and she groans, tugging on Hook’s jacket sleeve to follow her as she heads over there.

“David left a message, Zelena died and somehow triggered the time portal.” Emma yells over the loud noise of the magic when they reach the barn.

“Emma, perhaps we shouldn’t get too close.”

“We need to close it!”

They swirl around in a magical portal once again, being thrown into another unexpected and unpredictable adventure. But, as always, Hook is by her side, and she’s realizing that despite the pain magic has caused in her life, it has also brought him into her life, and maybe it’s about facing the hardships together.

“You don’t have your magic, it’s too dangerous."

"But-"

She’s interrupted by the sheer force of the magic pulling them toward the portal and they cling to each other as they tumble on the ground roughly. They both struggle to avoid falling in, Hook using his appendage to grip onto the ground. Emma holds on to his hand, but she feels herself slipping away and she’s worried he’ll leave her to fall into the unknown hole of time. She meets his eyes, and he lifts his hook to fall in with her.

And so she decides to do just that. When their little adventure in the past comes to an end, after witnessing her parents fall in love, attending a ball, almost losing her mother, and maybe falling in love with Captain Hook along the way, she decides to make Storybrooke her home. There are the occasional foes in town, but it is a place full of family, friends, and love, and they can face anything together.

#cssecretsanta2020 #csss2020 #phiralovesloki #cs ff #captain swan

[thelostnymphaeum]

If there’s some magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone else.

Entry: 009

// Cinema // 

Title: Before Trilogy (Before Sunrise, Before Sunset & Before Midnight)

Director: Richard Linklater

Screenwriters: Richard Linklater

Kim Krizan (Before Sunrise)

Ethan Hawke (Before Sunset & Before Midnight)

Julie Delpy (Before Sunset & Before Midnight)

Year/s: 1995, 2004 & 2013

-----

The first time I saw “Before Sunrise” was when I was still a kid and five minutes into the movie I thought “Wow, this is so boring, do they just talk all throughout?” which prompted me to stop watching it and forget about it. Now that I’m beyond my teenage years, I have decided to give this movie another try, but only because it was on Netflix and the constant popping up of its film screenshots on Tumblr pressured me to do it.

Nevertheless, it did not disappoint me to rediscover this cinematic gem and the two movies that followed. The Before Trilogy is set nearly a decade apart from one another and are sewed together by the conversations of the protagonists: Celine and Jesse. One of the salient points of this series is the very idea that put me off back then – it was a movie of conversations. It revolved around the thoughts of two people and it is what propels the movie to keep on rolling. I specifically admire how the director was able to pull this off without making a movie that looks pretentious, something like Socrates and Plato talking in the agora. But on the other hand, it was so natural, so fluid, so effortless, so raw and deprived of artifice that made me fall in love. It was just about two people connecting and feeling each other, the rest is just background. (Even so, the backgrounds were also picturesque on their own, you could pause at any point in the film and voila – a tumblr worthy post.)

Julie Delpy, the girl who plays Celine, said that the third eye of this movie was “emotion.” As much as I admired the streets of Vienna, the architecture in Paris or the waters of Greece, something that speaks so much louder is the emotional aspect of the characters. I also love how the running time of each film sort of reflects the phase in their life. The second film was the shortest, because it was the most unexpected and tense out of all the three. The final film was the longest, because it was the revelation of their lives after years of being together, hence, there was no pressure, there was only more story to tell.

BEFORE SUNRISE

“It’s not so bad if tonight is our only night. Maybe it makes it really special.”

This is where my age spectrum is right now, hence, this is my favorite among the three (as of now). This was the most dreamlike of them all, this was the start of the magic. Meeting a good-looking stranger on the train, walking around the streets of an old city, visiting a cathedral and rummaging through  a forgotten cemetery whilst having the most wholesome and intellectual conversation with another human being? Where do I pay to experience this fantasy? 

I liked when they talked about how we are never meant to be with our ideal love since it ruins the fantasy, that maybe it is better off to say “nice not knowing you.” This movie is like a time capsule that by and by you come back to relive that one special night with the one person who makes you sing “it would've been fun, if you would've been the one.” What made it an extraordinary experience is the fact that it was never meant to last. They must fight the ticking of the clock as they try to make the best out of this one night before sunrise. The movie finishes with an ambiguous ending, making a promise to see each other again but with no other way of contacting one another while they wait for their planned lovers’ tryst.

“I feel this pressure to be a strong and independent icon of womanhood and not have it look like my life is only revolving around some guy, but the love of a man and returning that love means a lot to me. I always make fun of it and stuff, but isn’t everything we’re doing in life a way to be loved a little more or something?”

BEFORE SUNSET

“You were for me that night Everything I always dreamt of in life But now you're gone You are far gone.”

The frustration I had for the two characters made me have an angina while watching this film. I was glad to see them intertwined again but this time, they were slammed with the reality that they have both moved on with their lives after their thwarted lovers’ tryst. Jesse has married and has a kid while Celine has her own career and a boyfriend. The echo of how things could have been if only Celine showed up during their rendezvous loomed their conversations, but their chemistry was still strong and evident. A certain sense of regret is felt as they try to stretch out this special meeting and tried to stall time as much as they could…almost as if they were still trying to hold on. This film was shorter than the other two and it matches the idea that this was the most overwrought meeting they have ever had since Jesse has to leave before sunset. The movie’s ending is still ambiguous, but a pint of hope is seen.

“The true work of improving things is in the little achievements of the day, and that's what you need to enjoy. Happiness is in doing, not in getting what you want.”

BEFORE MIDNIGHT

“I am giving you my whole life. I got nothing larger to give, I'm not giving it to anybody else.”

This final film was the most emotionally-charged of them all because the fantasy that the previous two films had set up starts to crumble. No more just one night only and no more missed chances – this was it, a life they had built together and the reality of being with someone you love. I liked how the beginning of the movie showed Jesse’s price to pay by choosing to be with Celine, and that was losing the chance to be a consistent presence in his son’s life. I liked how Celine’s pent up resentments in her life as a woman and as a mother was able to splash out the reality that plagues the lives of most women – that we spend a good amount of our youthful years building careers for ourselves but once we get married and have children, we have to give up that career and be an immaculate mother, otherwise society will drag you through the mud. I like how their arguments alluded to Jesse’s unfaithfulness, or Celine’s selfishness. But I also liked how they have formulated their own remedies to these predicaments by learning to forgive and compromise.  It showed how there’s no such thing as a fairytale – that meeting a stranger on a train and being together does not always end up perfect. This final film’s ending was no longer ambiguous, we know that they will hold it out, even after sunrise, after sunset or after midnight. She’ll still be there. He’ll still be there. 

“I am sending you this young man. Yes, young - and he will be your escort. God knows, he has many problems and has struggled his whole life connecting and being present even with those he loves the most. And for that he is deeply sorry - but you are his only hope.”

-----

I’d love to re-watch this series someday because I’m certain that I will feel differently about each of them as I grow older. The first film was deeply rooted in the idea of romance, the second film was more about life choices and careers, while the third film was about building a life together despite the imperfections.

“The first film [Before Sunrise] is about what could be, the second [Before Sunset] is about what should have been. Before Midnight is about what it is.” – Ethan Hawke

#Before Trilogy #Before Sunrise #Before Sunset #Before Midnight #Ethan Hawke #Julie Delpy #Richard Linklater #cinema #movies

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 7

A/N: Dear magical tumblr friends, today I have not much to say but an expression of my gratitude for your comments, hearts and reblogs. I really wasn’t expecting many people to like what I write. So, it does come as a surprise, one that’s very pleasing and leaves a fuzzy feeling inside me :)

Details: 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 2165

Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

Enjoy! 

3 May, 2005

(Y/N) and Draco stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say or do. The muffled sounds of the celebration inside only made their silence heavier. They were in the garden of Ginny and Harry’s new home. Their housewarming party was the first time they met in two years.

Ginny had given birth to their firstborn, James Sirius, in August. With the newest Potter in tow, they decided their little flat in London was not the right place to raise their growing family and moved to a house in Devon. It was closer to the Burrow and had a huge back yard for their mischievous nine-months-old boy. That Tuesday night, (Y/N) had knocked on the door expecting a very adult reunion with her closest friends. She was greeted by a full-blown party. The music was deafening and there was a thick smell of booze in the air.

She greeted her friends, unaware of the grey eyes fixed on her from across the room. Draco was determined not to let another day pass. Two years had gone by since he last saw her and even more since they had truly enjoyed each other’s company. He wanted her back.

“(Y/L/N) is truly like fine wine,” Draco’s gaze shifted to Blaise, his eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“How so?” he asked carefully, guessing he really didn’t want to know the answer to that.

“As years go by, she just gets better and better,” Blaise answered, a sly smile on his face.

Draco gulped. He couldn’t deny that every time he saw (Y/N) she seemed much more beautiful than before. Whenever he had the pleasure of rediscovering her, he’d find something new to…well, love. He hadn’t had that chance in the last two years, so the effect she had on him now, even across the room, was tenfold.

“I can’t believe she’s still single.” That was Draco’s cue to stand up. He didn’t want to listen to anyone talking about his best friend in such terms. Guided by a rush, he walked towards her, interrupting her conversation with Hermione and Neville.

At first, (Y/N) thought she was hallucinating. She looked at him from head to toe, admiring the cool and kind energy that emanated from him. He was a breath of fresh air, one she had been missing for almost five years now. Then, (Y/N) noticed how, standing silently as they were, they attracted people’s attention. Pansy and Hermione looked at them intrigued. Harry was offering them a kind smile. Ron and Ginny were most definitely scoffing. Her friends’ antics made her realize she was not imagining him; Draco was standing right in front of her.

She didn’t doubt for a second when he asked her to talk privately.

That’s how they had gotten there, standing solemnly on the veranda with tears in their eyes. After a few minutes of doubting, (Y/N) inched forward and hugged Draco’s middle, burying her face on his chest. Draco smiled, relieved, and hugged her back. He pressed kisses on the top of her head.

“I missed you so much, Dray,” she said.

“Me too, (Y/N/N). You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he answered, bringing her closer to his chest.

A friendship was reborn.  They sat side by side on the porch, their backs to the house. They allowed themselves to be pulled towards each other, so their bodies were as pressed together as they could possibly be.  

“Don’t you want to let off steam? I’m here, you can roast me, insult me, call me on my behaviour. Really, nothing can possibly be worse than what I’ve said to myself,” even if Draco tried to press a humorous tone in his voice, (Y/N) could feel the regret and shame.

“Dray…for the longest time I thought about barging into Malfoy Manor to give you a piece of my mind. I wanted to insult you. Circe! At times I even thought about hexing you to kingdom come. I am not going to lie, I was hurt,” as she said all of this, she noticed how Draco’s face dropped, “but I’ve forgiven you. I’m not going to pretend like things didn’t happen. But I also prefer not to dwell on them.”

Draco then told her he had been sober for almost two years. He explained that their meeting had been a wakeup call and he decided he didn’t want to be that prick ever again. He told her, excitedly, that he had started healer training and he felt he had finally found his true calling. (Y/N) genuinely rejoiced at this. Draco then described his chance encounter with Harry at a muggle tea shop. They rekindled their friendship almost immediately and met every Wednesday evening for afternoon tea. This fact made her giggle like a lunatic.

He also narrated, just for the pleasure of hearing her laugh again, how Ginny went ballistic when he first set foot on their house.

“Well, it wasn’t undeserved. You were a git,” she teased. Draco nodded, feeling a bit guilty.

“What I’m wondering is,” she added, her dashing smile leaving her face, “why didn’t you reach out to me, Dray.”

Draco squeeze (Y/N)’s hands. “Don’t think I didn’t try, (Y/N/N). I did. Many times, actually. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I know I hurt you for some very stupid reasons. I even asked Harry and Ginny – and Ron and Hermione and everyone else, basically – not to tell you about me because I wanted to contact you myself. And then I just couldn’t…I…”

“It’s okay, Dray,” she consoled him, like many times before, by putting her hands on his cheeks and making him face her. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, they gave each other that look of longing and lust that begs to be ended by a kiss. But before either of them leaned in, Draco reminded himself of the many, many reasons why it was not okay for them to kiss. I’m not that imbecile any more, he told himself.

“So, tell me about you. What have you been doing lately,” he said, ending abruptly their little moment.

(Y/N) blushed and fixed her gaze on the sky. She shared with him something nobody else knew: she was going to publish her first book. Draco was so happy for her – and for the fact that she had told him first – that he almost cried. She then explained how things were going spectacularly at her job. Once again, he hanged onto her every word as she poured so much passion into what she was saying. For some reason, (Y/N) mentioned her breakup with Ernie.

“I figured as much when he arrived holding hands with Cho,” he murmured. He didn’t say that MacMillan hadn’t even returned his greeting and had even glared at him from across the room.

As they spoke, he waited for the right time to tell her a not so little detail of his life, which was nagging at him. He convinced himself to wait another day to tell her, that they had just found each other, that it was better if they eased into their friendship first, when, all of a sudden, the door behind them opened with a bang.

“There you are, baby,” he heard a woman’s voice say.

Draco winced when he saw (Y/N)’s confused expression. She turned around to face the newcomer, a woman with auburn hair, delicate features and a very soft complexion. She was staring at them expectantly, her hands on her hips and her head a bit tilted. Draco stood up and the woman walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him, a soft kiss he responded so reluctantly it reminded (Y/N) of her time with Ernie.

Still, she was startled, baffled even. Draco put his arms around her waist and (Y/N) looked away, feeling like she was intruding.

Draco cleared his throat. “Tori, this is (Y/N),” he said awkwardly signaling between both women, “(Y/N/N), this is Astoria.”

The auburn-haired woman squealed and turned to (Y/N), enveloping her in a hug. “Drakey has told me so so so so much about you! I have a lot to thank you for. You’ve made my job easier,” she joked, hugging (Y/N) tighter, “I’m glad you’ve reconnected and I really hope we can also be friends. You sound like a beautiful person.”

The situation as a whole was asphyxiating, to say the least. But even as Astoria kept talking and violating her physical boundaries (and also despite the fact that she was clearly Draco’s something), (Y/N) couldn’t dislike her. She was...sweet. Draco gave her an apologetic smile. She smiled back, hoping it concealed the sadness and disappointment she felt. Draco noticed that there was something behind her gesture, but out of respect for his girlfriend he didn’t want to name it. Nor admit he was feeling something similar.

“Astoria,” (Y/N) said, trying to be as friendly and good-tempered as possible.

“Tori,” she corrected.

“Tori,” (Y/N) tried again, the nickname still foreign in her tongue, “It was a pleasure to meet you. I really need to get going now, though. I don’t know if Dray–co told you this, but I am a teacher at Hogwarts. Tomorrow is a school day and I need to apparate to the castle first thing in the morning.”

“How interesting! You didn’t mention that, love,” she reproached her boyfriend playfully, “It was a pleasure to meet you too, (Y/N).”

“(Y/N/N),” she corrected her as well. As cringe-y as she found strangers calling her by the nickname only her friends used, she felt like she needed to return the gesture.

“(Y/N/N),” Astoria agreed with a smile.

“It was great to see you again, Draco,” she said before heading back to the party.

(Y/N) said goodbye to all of her friends and picked her coat. She was trying to let go of any feeling of rejection or discouragement. She had her friend back and that alone was enough to make her happy, right? Of course, things were meant to change. That’s what she tried telling herself to avoid the heartache.

If she was completely honest with herself, (Y/N) had to admit she had been waiting for a day in which Draco came back and they could be together. As the years came and went, her hope diminished, but it was never completely gone. It was always there, in the back of her mind, even when she dated other people. Finding him here today, as good as it was, had been a reality check. As much as she felt her heart chattering a bit, she knew it was for the best. (Y/N) needed to move on.

She closed the door behind her, getting ready to apparate back to her apartment. All of a sudden, someone hugged her from behind. She tensed for a second until she recognized Draco. He felt her relax in his arms and then tense up again, which made him a bit sad.

“It’s always like this with us, isn’t it?” he said, trying to humour her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“You’re always leaving and I’m always chasing you,” he answered.

(Y/N) thought that it was the other way around, but laughed anyways, knowing very well that Draco was trying to lighten the mood. He felt satisfied and kissed the top of her head again. Feeling her relax in his arms once again gave him the courage to face her. He didn’t know how to address this. How can you even begin to explain to the woman you’ve loved for such a long time that you’re in a relationship with another woman – who you’re also in love with – but you haven’t entirely moved on?

“(Y/N)-”

“Don’t (Y/N) me, Dray,” she said sternly.

“(Y/N/N), I’m sorry”

“Why would you be sorry, Dray?”

“I don’t know. Astoria…”

“Is your girlfriend,” she finished.

“Yes,” he answered, not knowing what else to say.

“Listen, Dray. Today I found one of my closest friends again. He was affectionate as ever. And he’s getting his life back on track, which an absolute relief. If I tell you a secret, he had turned into a bit of a git the last time I saw him. Seeing him like this has made me very happy. So, let me enjoy that,” she said, a kind smile on her face.

Feeling like the luckiest man alive, Draco engulfed her in another hug. Once again in his arms, (Y/N) remembered the words of wisdom he had said all those years ago in Mexico, how he preferred to be her soulmate destined to be best friend than a boyfriend of a couple of months. She realized that maybe that’s what their thing was all about. And even if it was going to take time for her to get used to it, (Y/N) felt content.

tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook @iliketoast23 @winnsmills @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @happycomb @xtrashmouthxtozierx @hopplessdreamer

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy inserts #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfics #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy #draco imagines #draco malfoy reader inserts #draco reader inserts #draco #post war harry potter #draco malfoy deserved better #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader inserts #harry potter inserts

[kingofterrors]

I was tagged in this ask by @inktog - thank you!

I’m not great at tagging other folk, but if you see this and you fancy doing it, consider yourself tagged! Also, by the way, if anyone seeing this really likes being tagged in these kind of things, let me know! I will tag you in future!

This was hard. At first I was like, “I’m not sure I can even name ten relationships I ship”, and then had far too many as soon as I thought about it for more than ten seconds. So here we are. :)

First, list your top 10 ships without reading the questions below.

1.      Luz Noceda / Amity Blight – The Owl House

2.      Harrowhark Nonagesimus / Gideon Nav – The Locked Tomb Series

3.      Sabran / Eadaz du Zāla uq-Nāra – The Priory of the Orange Tree

4.      Caleb Widogast / Essek Theyless – Critical Role Campaign 2

5.      Beauregard Lionett / Jester Lavorre – Critical Role Campaign 2

6.      Harrowhark Nonagesimus / Ianthe Tridentarius – The Locked Tomb Series

7.      Kara Danvers / Lena Luthor – Supergirl

8.      Amity Blight / Boscha – The Owl House

9.      Korra / Asami – The Legend of Korra

10.  Percy / Vexahlia – Critical Role Campaign 1

Then answer the questions.

Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

I’m going to be honest, it was from the very beginning of Harrow the Ninth – the Prologue, where we get that amazing moment of Ianthe kneeling down and taking Harrow by the chin. I’m going to quote, because this scene just marched up to my house, kicked my door down and stole my entire mind.

You were shocked into opening your eyes when you felt the girl opposite cup your chin in her hands – her fingers febrile compared to the chilly shock of her gilded metacarpal – and put her meat thumb at the corner of your jaw. For a moment you assumed that you were hallucinating, but that assumption was startled away by the cool nearness of her, of Ianthe Tridentarius on her knees before you in unmistakable supplication. Her pallid hair fell around her face like a veil, and her stolen eyes looked at you with half-beseeching, half-contemptuous despair: blue eyes with deep splotches of light brown, like agate.

Looking deep into the eyes of the cavalier she murdered, you realised, not for the first time, and not willingly, that Ianthe Tridenatrius was beautiful.

Dude.

Have you ever read a fic about 2?

Yup! More than one! I don’t generally seek out smut for my ships, for whatever reason, but I freely admit that I sought out smut for these two. And found it. Found it with quality in spades. Praise be. Is this a good spot for recs? If so:

Sleepless by pugoata

Like a Lullaby by SweetScentences

Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/profile pic/tumblr?

Nope. I tend not to change my pics very much, and they tend to focus on single characters rather than ships, again for whatever reason.

If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

Yeah… Well of course they’re not together in canon. I ship supercorp foolishly, helplessly, knowing all the while that the chances of it becoming reality are vanishingly small. That said, we don’t ship purely for canon, do we? So if Kara and Lena were together and then were to break up I’d be disappointed, but I suspect they’d find their way back to each other. These two have a history of being separated, then rediscovering their love and coming back together. I give it a couple of weeks. :)

Why is 1 so important?

Man, I don’t know! It snuck up on me! I think there’s something here about firstly, the context for Lumity. Amity’s crush on Luz was just presented as normal, as something fine and good and natural, and that meant so much to me. There’s a softness here that I love so much. I also heavily empathise with Amity – the trying to live up to expectations and feeling that you have to hide yourself behind emotional walls – and the thought of her finding love with someone like Luz who is so open and emotionally giving does my heart good. I want Amity to find acceptance and openness with Luz. I want Luz to find herself seen and valued for exactly who she is by Amity. I want to see them finding strength and security in each other. I just love them, you guys.

There’s a bit in this wonderful YouTube video essay, which I recommend to the moon and back – watch it if you haven’t! (“The Owl House is Great and Here’s Why, by Film Freak”) Where the essayist concludes their section on Lumity by saying: “I don’t know if Disney will chicken out in the future with regards to Lumity or any other queer rep, but for now I’m cautiously optimistic. Maybe I just have rose-tinted goggles for how soft this ship is, but whatever, let me stan just once.”

And… yeah. That.

Which one has the strongest bond?

Wow, tough one. Probably Sabran and Ead. They’ve gone through everything together, and are prepared to wait for each other in the end. Their bond is strong enough to take that and more.

Which ship has lasted the longest?

For me or the ship itself? For me of all of these probably Korra / Asami. Shipped ‘em first time I saw LoK, and haven’t stopped.

How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Have they ever gotten together? If they ever did get together they’d break up every couple of days. These two are a mess, and their relationship is a toxic trainwreck. Still ship ‘em though. Can’t help it. Sometimes ships are just fascinating. If this was real life I’d want them to not come within shouting distance of each other. In fiction I’m riveted.

If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive: 2 or 8?

Definitely Harrow and Gideon. Those two have fought through apocalyptic situations before, and my money would be on them to do it again. Plus they are the quintessential battle couple. Can you imagine Harrow’s bone magic and Gideon’s martial expertise being unleashed on zombies? Those two would save the whole damn world.

Amity and Boscha would put up a good fight, I think, but I can see them disagreeing on key decisions which might hurt their chances.

Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

Given that Kara is a whole secret identity, we could say they are continually hiding their relationship when Kara is out there as Supergirl? I could also see them hiding their relationship at Lena’s insistence to protect Kara from Lex before she realised Kara was actually Supergirl. She might even want to do that afterwards as well, on reflection. Lena is very protective of Kara, ironically enough. :)

Is 4 still together?

Right now? This is another non-canon ship. That said, this is one I’m genuinely hoping for a canon appearance from. Their relationship might be put under strain from the fact that they’re both mages, and mages tend to get selfish and power hungry (or at least these two claim that’s how it goes). I think they’d work through it though. These two talk big about their own selfishness a lot, and then in practice are very caring and protective of others. I can see that extending to each other. Just kiss already.

Is 10 canon?

Yup! My token het ship are still very much together, growing old and having babies.Good for them. :)

If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

This is an invitation to go into huge depth, but my initial feeling is that Harrow and Gideon would again have it hands down. Those two are world-endingly powerful. Although that said, Kara and Lena might give them a run for their money. Pure power ranking? Let’s see…

1.      Harrow / Gideon

2.      Kara / Lena

3.      Korra / Asami

4.      Beau / Jester

5.      Caleb / Essek

6.      Percy / Vex

7.      Harrow / Ianthe

8.      Sabran / Ead

9.      Amity / Luz (no shade, but these guys are literal children. Grown up they’d put up a better showing, I’d bet)

10.  Amity / Boscha

Has anyone ever tried to sabotage 5?

I mean… Fjord? I wonder sometimes what would have happened if Beau had genuinely put in a play for Jester, rather than stepping back to let Fjord make his move. She very obviously decided that Fjord should have a free shot, and I wonder how it would have worked if she actually decided to compete. Would Fjord have stepped back to let Beau make a try for Jester if he was aware of her feelings? I don’t know. A genuine competition would have been heartbreaking but oh so interesting to see.

Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr tag?

Not hours, but I have put some good time into finding fanart for these two. There is some good work out there!

If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all up, which ship would you SINK?

Amity / Boscha. Sorry you two! I wrote myself into shipping Amity and Boscha, when I fell in love with Boscha and decided she could actually be good for Amity in a snarky, take no shit kind of a way. I would still love to see more of them. (Halfway through that one-shot btw.) But if it was them or everyone else? Sorry guys. :(

#ask games #shipping asks #this was fun! #thanks for tagging me! #long post

[danked-piccolo-shit]

Bigby x Reader ( NSFW )

Hey ! Hope you're all fine and happy out there ! 👋 The kinktober stuff made me want to translate this scenario from my computer. Hope you'll enjoy it.

Warning : NSFW ( some masturbation shit are in this post, kid, don't read it ! 🤔 )

The wolf opened his door, almost sma-

Crack

Well... actually smashing the handle accidentally in his action.

Another shitty night for the Fabletown's Sheriff, now thinking how he was going to explain this tomorrow. This was the 3rd time in a week, after all.

He entered the apartment, letting an annoyed sigh to escape from his lips as he cracked the bones of his neck. He picked up the phone, leaving it on the table before entering in the kitchen, this was a kind of ritual he use to do at the end of the day, without even noticing doing so. But after a long day of work, he just wanted to be ... quiet, and embrace the loneliness in which he had plunged for all these years.

Some whiskey would be welcome. If there were any left. A quick visit from Colin wasn't something unusual, after all, and this pig was a real pain in the ass, sometimes. A shy smile slowly came to lift his dark circles as he opened the closet. There were still some left, and plenty by the way ! Even if the sheriff couldn't recall when he went to the grocery store for the last time. The fridge was totally empty, apart from an old bottle of ketchup, and he couldn't rely on the freezer to offer him something to eat either...

The reflection of his cigarette shimmered in a glass now full of the oh so precious alcohol, which gradually became more of a painkiller for Bigby over the years rather than a real source of pleasure or relief.

He then set out to settle on this good old armchair, which will have another taste of the blood of the fable this evening.

2, maybe 3 broken ribs, some bloody phalanges and let's not even talk about his shirt.

Fed up... Bigby was fed up...

"Can I really go on living like this?" whispered the wolf under his breath, before finally grabbing this precious painkiller of his.

The truth was he didn't know himself what to do. He sweared to protect everyone, and he will continue... Until the sweet death finally come to take him, and put an end to his long and painful agony.

He dared to confront his reflection in the half-empty glass, before turning away from it a few seconds later. It might be time to have a shower, he thought out loud. To wash away the blood, and, kinda help with the smell too.

He quickly opened his window, which offered him a scent far more delicate than the one of whiskey on his beard. It seems you have been cooking something recently, but it wasn't the smell of tasty food that has made the wolf close his eyes to sniff more, and which started to make him shiver in ecstasy. It was yours.

Your so precious perfume... So lovable, so tempting ~ God, was he happy to be your neighbor from below. Be able to smell you before he goes to bed, or, at least, tries to... Trace your exact position in your apartment just by earing the sweet sound of your feets, making the wood cracking gently just above from where he was.

If he listened to his instincts, the only thing he wanted to do with you now ...

Was to take you away, far, really far from these rotten apartments, to steal you tonight and never going back, so that you can finally be happy with him, your mate for life. Bigby took only a few moments to get out of his fantasies. It was crazy to think about it, and he knew it ... Unfortunately all too well.

His cigarette ended up in the ashtray, and his half-empty glass will have to wait until his shower was over. Just leaning forward was enough to make the wolf growl in pain, but he got up anyway, now realizing the need to do laundry if he didn't want to start some half-naked investigating tomorrow.

So he went to the bathroom, rediscovering it by the way, before heading to the machine. A sound of water coming from upstairs was enough to dissipate his thoughts just before he presses the start button.

Uncontrollably, Bigby started to focus, surprising himself to be now able to distinct your breathing and even your heartbeat with the constant falling water. The walls truly were paper thin, after all...

Sudden hoarse breathing echoed in his ears, pushing him immediately into alertness. Did something happen to you ?! The pressure on his shoulders vanished the moment he could sense you were uninjured, and not seeming anxious.

False alert, and it was clearly for the best... But...

Why were you panting, then ?

Your heartbeat went madder, just like your breath... That's the moment Bigby realized you weren't actually in the shower. The falling water sound was way to constant...

A clang of clothing was enough to give rise to a hypothesis in his head. "No, no, Bigby, stop, you're disgusting, there is absolutely no chance of that happening..."

That's what he told himself before he started blaming his fatigue for his perverted spirit.

You drove him crazy every day and he knew it. But ... to the point of imagining that ?! God, he was tired.

" Hn ~ ♡ "

Instinctively, he stopped all movements, mentally praying for the first time in his life to have heard well. You were... doing it... like... really ?!

Bigby closed his eyes again, letting his hearing refine itself some more while the growing bulge in his pants already led him to the point of no return. This strange sensation he hadn't felt for years could only assert itself more when a squishy sound resonated in his ears. And that had nothing to do with the water that was still flowing...

" Shit.... "

The wolf took an immediate support against the wall, letting himself slide down to the ground as he cursed the sound of his belt which came to smother another one of your cries.

You were really masturbating, and Bigby was the only one that could hear you...

Without hesitation, he threw his hand into his pants, wedging his breath on yours not to miss the next moan as he started to pleasure himself.

" Aah ~ "

Here it came.

Being able to clearly hear this one was so satisfying for Bigby. And so, so good too. The Sheriff could not help but harden over the seconds as he could now trace each passage of your delicate fingers on your juicy entrance.

These repetitive noises... Your jerky breath... Your soft moans so inaudible that they were even more precious ... You really wanted it so badly ~ ? The wolf didn't knew this side of your personality until now, but he clearly wasn't going to complain. Nevertheless, he was curious to know who you were thinking of when you did this, and the mere assumption that it was him ended all other acceptable answers for Bigby.

" Hmmm ~~ "

He gave himself thoroughly despite his injuries, guided by his imagination and determined to silence the voice that ordered him to go upstairs and help you satisfy your reciprocal urges. To make your skin dance on his, while preventing you from holding back your cries by the simple pressure of his hands on your hips. He could finally kiss you, caress you until dawn...

Horny like he was now, if he really go upstairs, it wouldn't be just the building that would hear you scream in a mix of pleasure and pain, but the whole fucking town. Even his fear to break you in the action excited him more, in theory. His left hand that was resting on his knee threatened to lacerate it as his claws began to come out. Never in his life the wolf wanted to bang someone so badly. You weren't his mate for nothing, after all...

A special rhythm of breathing proved to Bigby that you were reaching your limits. Already? At this point, he could've made you climax twice before starting to reach his own. With a growing smile on his lips, the wolf calculated approximately. 3... maybe 4...

" Ah- Aaah, fuck ~ ♡ "

Definitely 4. He could make you beg for mercy 4 times before he finally liberate you from his grip, and fill your delicious belly with all his semence as you'll let your ultimate moan resonate in the room. He could already see your legs trembling in your succession of orgasms, while his full erect cock will force him to impregnate you like the animal he was, to mark his territory and claim you his for all eternity.

The wolf bit his lip until blood, vainly retaining a grunt to escape. Even if you had already finished, and was finally going to have a shower, Bigby took advantage of the fall of your last clothes to give him the impetus to finish alone. The falling water calmed down as you entered it, making Bigby understand that he'll not have the chance to have a round 2 this night... Or enough alcohol into his veins to dare going upstairs and make your body bend under his touch.

So he kept drowning in his fantasies, restraining himself from grunting or breaking the wall that was still his support as he remembered your needy moans.

Bigby's knee was now in blood, and hazard made him reach his limits when you cut off the water.

He desperately tried to sniff your scent when he finally came, much harder than expected, a little bit disappointed that you went to bed this early and were already far asleep. But, hey, he couldn't be mad at you, not when you just saved his evening like this ;)

The first thing he did when he opened his eyes again was to look at his ceiling, smiling wildly at the thought of what happened.

" Good night, (Y/N) "

_________

Hope you enjoyed it so far ! Thanks for reading, and remember that he still hasn't launched his laundry machine yet ! So be careful of shirtless Sheriff from now on ;)

#bigby x reader #bigby wolf #twau bigby #sheriff bigby #the wolf among us

[pluviophile-bookworm]

AWAE 2x1 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

At long last, it’s time to rewatch the first episode of season 2. With a suspenseful open ending, season 1 left us waiting for the continuation of Anne’s story, and here it is now. It’s been literal years since I first saw this episode, so of course I’m going in with very little memory of what happens in it. I can’t wait any more, so let’s dive in.

The episode, and with it the season, opens with a beautiful shot of Anne reaching of her window, and then there are more lovely shots of her in nature. i just love the visuals of this show so much. And Anne talking to trees is just on another level. I actually see things from her perspective for a moment and it’s like nature is talking back, and it’s all so magical. This is one of many reasons why I’m so in love with this show. This is one of those “gold opens”, as I call them. But why do I feel like it won’t be the same after the cold open?

Ok, thankfully it’s not as dark as I’d thought - at least for now. But I’m still on my toes. For the moment, however, Anne’s biggest concern is how little scope for the imagination needlepoint provides. Here’s to hoping it remains so for as long as possible.

A delinquent saying grace, how ironic. And he indulges Anne by saying “Gracious Heavenly Father” at her request. He’s playing his role well, that you’ve got to hand to him.

Ah, and here’s Bash’s first appearance. A tough and grim job, being addressed by his nationality, and just overall hardship is what he’s putting up with for the moment - probably has for most of his life. Thankfully, Gilbert stands for none of that stuff. #blacklivesmatter

Good as Nate may be at keeping up his facade, Anne’s curiosity is not making that any easier for him. I love her curiosity and her desire to learn as much as possible about everything (wait, isn’t that the same as curiosity?) and her fascination with science. This is a woman of the future, that’s for sure. She did nothing to deserve getting her story cut short without a warning. #renewannewithane

Poor Anne, still haunted by her trauma... I guess this kind of stuff never really goes away. 

What is Nate trying to pull with Marilla? That guy creeps me out so much.

Of course, Anne is enchanted by Nate and his science and his books, but Jerry’s got him all figured out. It seems he doesn’t really remember how they first met, otherwise I’m certain he’d tell Anne if not anyone else, but even without the clear memory of what Nate and Dunlop are really like, he just knows it. Memory fails sometimes, but instinct almost never does. Poor Jerry has his own trauma now. My boy does not deserve this.

Ok, I love Anne so much, but she can be awfully insensitive sometimes. I mean, I understand that she’s very young, but still. She seems to often forget that not everyone has the same experience as her. Now she’s forgotten that Jerry can’t even read. Of course, she immediately offers to fix this. It’s heartwarming that she’s teaching him to read, but she managed to sound both too patronising and too complicated, all in one sentence. But hey, she’s not a certified teacher, she’s a kid. I’ll cut her some slack here because her intentions are nothing but good.

Oh there it is, Nate has released the gold bug, and now he’s getting Mr. Barry wrapped around his little finger. I just can’t watch this...

I love the Shirbert parallel of working to the same tune. Even miles away, they’re connected in a way. 

I’m sensing another parallel here - Bash is to Gilbert what Jerry is to Anne: the poorer, less educated honorary brother who is also a member of a minority against which many are bigoted. And just like Jerry does to Anne, Bash reminds Gilbert in no uncertain terms of his white man’s privilege. And both Anne and Gilbert learn along the way to be less insensitive to those less privileged than them, and to fight for this privilege to be evened out. This is beautiful and important, and I love this show for presenting it so eloquently.

Another beautiful visual of Anne in nature, this is a very popular one - at least I’ve seen it going around quite a lot. It’s this one: [image credit: kissthemgoodbye.net]

I too, like Anne, love living in a world where there are Octobers - especially because that is the month I get to go back to uni, and I happen to love it there. What would the world be like without Octobers?

As someone whose hometown is extremely close to the beach, I sort of understand Matthew and Marilla’s lack of thrill at the thought of going there, but also Anne’s fascination and excitement as someone who hasn’t had the chance to go. A friend from the capital (which is almost as far from the sea as my country goes) once told me when she came to visit that she found it weird how people actually live in a city that she and her other friends view as just a holiday destination. I, on the other hand, hadn’t lived anywhere else at that point and was way beyond any fascination with the beach. It’s good to see a different point of view. Someone like Anne can make you rediscover the beauty of every little mundane thing.

Wait, this is Anne’s spot, isn’t it? The spot by the sea where she’d later go when she’s upset, and where Gilbert would pass by on his journey of Anne-memories in season 3? It is, I’m fairly certain of it.

And once again, as Anne looks out into the sea, so does Gilbert. Those two share a brain, don’t they?

I don’t really know what Nate’s deal is. Sure, I know he’s a scoundrel at best, but... can one fake this fascination with gold? Of course, this bit might just be true - he could really be fascinated with gold - with getting it for himself at other people’s expense. That would be in character for the person who gave poor Jerry one extra kick in the face after he was already on the ground. And when Anne asks about it, little detective that she is, his true self shows for an instant. And then the mask is back on and he’s all like “do the right thing” and “moral quandary”... as if he has any morals. This guy disgusts me.

Sweet summer child Ruby is so see-through... Albert, Herbert, Rupert - she reminds me of my younger self. I love her so much.

Oh, great. Just great. Nate’s got into Anne’s head. She has this unfortunate tendency to trust people whether they deserve it or not. And now she’s fallen into a trap.

Oh Jerry, trust me, you do need to know how to read. You do. Although I wonder if his desire to talk and to discuss books wasn’t at the core of his eventual falling out with Diana in season 3 - I mean, the incompatibility between that and her own wishes about their relationship. Either way, reading can’t be a bad thing, can it?

What does Dunlop mean by “She’s just a girl”. What? Does he see her as somehow inferior because she’s a girl? As if I needed more persuading that these two are, to put it very mildly, no good.

Anne is too good for this world, empathising with Dunlop’s sob story (how true is it? I might be falling too) and even offering to be his little sister in her own desperate longing to be someone’s sister. No, Anne, your only brother should be the one Nate is taunting in the barn at this very moment.

Oh gosh, Anne is there, and another memory of her traumatic past is triggered by Nate’s taunting. I can’t watch, I just can’t watch a book being torn up so devilishly, and it seems that this is just the tip of the iceberg. 

Does Jerry remember? I think he might be starting to remember. He’d better speak up soon if he does.

“I’d offer a penny for your thoughts but I haven’t any money.” Wait, does Eliza Barry not own any money at all? Is she that much of a submissive wife? I see now why she raises her daughters the way she does. I feel bad for her, truly. But I wonder what’s eating her husband. Is he thinking of what Nate told him?

Speaking of Nate - how vile of him to make fun of Jerry, calling him a little frog and all that, and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t remember who he and Dunlop are. You know, I’m thinking of a song - Little People from Les Mis, and specifically this line: So never kick a dog because it’s just a pup - you better run for cover when the pup grows up. In other words right now, Nate had better hope Jerry doesn’t remember, because I bet he’s not just going to sit around once he does. Nate’s got everyone fooled - everyone but him. And I don’t want to say Jerry was lucky, but in a way he was - to have met those two before everyone else. 

That’s it - once Anne tells the town gossip, it’s all in the bag. She’ll tell everyone and get their attention for Nate. Sweet summer child Anne has done the con man’s job for him. Now he’s getting up everybody’s hopes just to get their money. I can’t even.

Sure, Anne, write to Gilbert, get him into this disaster waiting to happen, too. As if he hasn’t got enough on his plate right now. At least, being away, he might have missed out on that drama that will lead to no good, but nay, we just have to worry him, don’t we? And thus the bumpy road of Shirbert’s correspondence continues.

To sum up this episode: beautiful, magical scenery; Nate’s smooth acting has got everyone fooled - especially Anne;  gold in Avonlea?; the similarities between Bash and Jerry; Shirbert share a brain; Anne teaches Jerry to read and write; Anne’s spot by the sea; Jerry doesn’t remember Nate and Dunlop - yet; the gold rush begins.

#awae #anne with an e #renew anne with an e #black lives matter #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #diana barry #jerry baynard #ruby gillis #bash lacroix #rachel lynde #marilla cuthbert #matthew cuthbert

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Mary!

You have been accepted for the role of TED TONKS with the faceclaim change of Dev Patel! We really enjoyed your discussion of Ted in relationship to his motivation and family, while also holding that subtle masculinity and sexism of how he feels he should “be the man in the family.” It was really clever and fit his character so well! So excited to see you take on this role! 

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Mary

AGE: 26

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: My activity level is definitely moderate, mostly active on the weekends since that’s when I can dedicate the most time. Though, my work load is slowing down a bit each week and I’ll be done with teaching completely by the beginning of June. Which means full time to rp!

ANYTHING ELSE: Same ones as before!

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Ted Tonks

AGE: 30

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisgender Male, He/Him, Heterosexual.

BLOOD STATUS: Muggleborn (obvs)

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff

ANY CHANGES: Dev Patel as FC <3

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: 

Ted has always been known to be a loyal, hardworking, dedicated young man. It’s hard not to be charmed into his positive outlook. He’s got an adorable smile and a kind, respectful attitude that naturally gravitates people towards him. During his time at Hogwarts, Ted obviously didn’t care for blood status or background, so it wasn’t abnormal to see him mingling and getting along with different groups of people. He was one to empathize easily with any person’s situation and be the shoulder to lean on, if necessary. Becoming a husband and father has only amplified his best traits - pushing him to realize this is what he was meant to do his entire life. He was meant to be a life partner to Andromeda, the woman he loved, and to rediscover hope and new life every day in the eyes of his daughter Nymphadora. Ted has always been good at healing and charms. Becoming a stay-at-home dad has given him reason to perfect these skills, anytime Dora got sick or her young signs of magic would spontaneously appear without notice. Ted has been struggling with keeping the secret of his involvement in the Order from Andromeda. On any given day, Ted is the kind of person to be honest and communicate with his wife. However, with the war going on around them, his whole life is at stake of being taken away from him. Andromeda works hard in the Ministry to provide for the family and Dora grows worried as she hears stories all the way from school, and growing up as someone who was taught to work and sacrifice everything for family, he couldn’t just stay idly by and do nothing. Ted hates feeling underestimated or helpless in any situation, and in times like these, he will tell himself to “be a man” and see this as opportunity to step up for what is right.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

Ted Tonks is the only child of two muggle parents, immigrants who came to the UK from the slums of Delhi, India. His parents yearned for a better life for their child, teaching Ted everything he knows about hard work and sacrifice for the love of family. After moving to Birmingham at the age of 4, Ted learned to live anew in a community where very few people looked and shared a culture like him. Even though he was very likable amongst his childhood friends and their families, Ted knew even in the smallest ways that he was different, an outsider. The deep-rooted prejudices were most noticed in his father and mother’s small shop, and yet, the respect for cultivating a business from the ground up was still tested daily. However, a young Ted never paid too much attention to the way some people mistrusted his family. Even in his family’s most difficult years, getting accustomed to their new life in a new home, Ted found countless moments of simple joys and learned to make the most out of nothing.

OCCUPATION: 

For eleven years, Ted has been a stay-at-home dad. However, once Nymphadora went off to school, Ted began job searching, even with the difficult prejudices he faced being a Muggleborn wizard.  Eventually after a referral, he’s took on working part-time in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It fits him well since he is bridge between both worlds, but in some ways, still wishes he can do more without being judged for his blood line.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER: 

Ted has always been good with healing magic and charms, especially after being a stay-at-home dad for so long. So he’s primarily began helping Emmeline with any tasks she needs assistance with, as well as any potion/charm work that needs to be taken care of. However, if he’s given the chance to go out for a mission, he will jump on the chance to do anything that’s asked of him.

Ted respects the Order of the Phoenix. Not only has it given a chance for him to do more, but he feels that in times like these, being above the law is a necessary evil for the common good. Before all this, Ted might have been the kind of person to back away and watch what happens to the world - but not anymore. He knows that the Order has had some rough patches and yet, that’s what war looks like. With the Order, Ted believes he can work toward making a better world for his daughter.

SURVIVAL: 

I think even if other people look down at their relationship, what is really keeping him alive at this point is Andromeda. Even being married to him, Andromeda with her blood line and ties to the Ministry carry weight in this world. He doesn’t like to admit it, since sometimes, he doesn’t quite understand what she does and he feels as man of the house, he should be providing more for his family. They also try to keep a quiet life in a little cottage by the coast, away from the eyes of the Wizarding community. So when you are secluded and keep your business to yourself, people tend to not pay any attention to you.

RELATIONSHIPS: 

Andromeda is the person closest to Ted, not only for being the love of his life, but also for the reason that once they got married and had Nymphadora, Ted lost touch with many of the people he had friendships with. He still talks to his parents every so often, but in order to keep them far from the dangers of the Wizarding World, he has kept a good distance from them, chugging it up to now living two hours away from his hometown. Ted still deeply cares for all of his estranged friends and even if they haven’t spoken in years, his loyalty to them will always be there. He might not find the same feeling the other way around and Ted wouldn’t blame them for feeling so. Regardless, he has no regrets for the decisions he has made, as he knows he did what’s best for his family.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: Andromeda/Ted for sure. There’s a lot going on there - between their own biases and withholding information about the length of their participation in the Order. But Ted/Chemistry is most important!! In the end, I ship all the things.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE? 

Being a Muggleborn and person of color, Ted would probably grow up with the least amount of privilege or bias towards anyone. Especially after becoming a father, Ted has been a very tolerant and open-minded person, as he truly believes that you should treat others the way you want to be treated. However, that doesn’t excuse the fact that deep down inside, after years and years of prejudice against his kind, Ted still grew an unconscious mistrust for Pureblood kind. Seeing Purebloods like Isla Selwyn-Macmillan, who have family members so vocal about their support for the Dark Lord, being a part of the Order put Ted in an uncomfortable spot. Even his wife still uses the word ‘mudblood’ around him, and she is the woman he loves, how does he trust any Pureblood outside of her? Ted also catches himself with what one can only consider mild forms left of traditional masculinity, whenever he compares his job to Andromeda’s and internally debates whether not telling Andromeda he is a part of the Order is the right thing to do. As open-minded as he is, Ted still remembers his father taking majority of the role as head of the house during his childhood, and sometimes, he asks himself whether that’s an expectation he should have for himself too.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I love this rp!! It brought back the wonderful feeling of being in this community of Harry Potter role-play and I wanted to find a new character that was a bit different than Marlene. I’m just looking forward to finding more ways to have fun here :’)

PLOT DROP IDEAS: Oof, if he’s a muggleborn wizard and they start going after those Muggleborn wix, my angsty soul wants to say that he goes into hiding and before/after he does so, he gets abducted or hurt in some way through that. Maybe they even find out he works for the Order? Also, if something happens at Hogwarts and in turn, something happens to Nymphadora? Or maybe there’s a threat on her life so Andromeda/Ted will try to go after her? Possibilities are endless!!

ANYTHING ELSE? I love you guys and this rp!! I’m so excited <3

#harry potter rp #harry potter rpg #harry potter roleplay #hp roleplay #homenumaccepted